#and like... things are far more complicated than that?

[alkit832]

Now, here's the big question.

At what point is it enough effort from the human artist? I'd presume reasonably high, but at what point? Genuine question, by the way. I don't have the latent termanology in my brain to phrase the question the way I want, but I will try.

Obviously prompting the AI is literally no effort since it's the bare minimum, so that's out imediately. I'm assuming tracing AI artwork is obviously out since it's just a new coat of paint on AI slop. On the opposite end, using AI as extremely vauge insperation for your starting point is fine, I'd assume. I'm assuming the gray area starts somewhere around using AI for touch-ups, especially if it's for more than just seeing what something might look like givin a certain change before doing it yourself.

And, another potential nuance, what if the beggining isn't the AI? Like, you use your own artwork as a starting point, and AI gets mixed in somehow. I assume that complicates things, depending on how complete the art is, like, using an AI as a quick grammer checker on a story you wrote is fine, right? But if you use it to completely rehaul and redo the entire story, then that's too far, especially if you have the AI do the full rehaul.

And all of these questions hinge on the training data for the AI being collected ethically, which most aren't. If the data isn't collected ethically, then all of this is moot because of the unethical origins of the tool. Ends not justifying means and all that.

Anyway, enough pondering about the phylisophical implications of AI in art for today, I've been up since fucking 1AM and should go take a nap.

i literally dont care what your excuse for using AI is. if you didnt put your own effort into making it im not putting my own effort into interacting with it.

[dyingswanpavlova]

Treasure

Pairing: Hwang In-ho/The Frontman × Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Smut, Age Gap (Reader is 25, In-ho is 54), Usage of Daddy, Mentions of Emotional Abuse in the Past, Low Self-Esteem, Sex as a Business Deal, Edging, Spanking, Overstimulation, Face Slapping, Oral Sex (Both receiving), Gagging, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Minors do not interact!

Author's note: It's mostly bad experiences and smut. Anyone who knows me, knows I can't do wholesome...But, you guys, I'm trying!

It has been quite a while since his wife died and he hasn't gotten over it. But now he found someone who brings out a softer side of him...or makes him feel anything at all. Even if it's just the fact that he doesn't have to dine and sleep alone.

The day of her death was always the worst.

Of course he was always cold. One might even muster up the courage to call it cruel.

He was a complicated man in any sense of the word. While he was as cunning as he was handsome, he was also cool and composed. He didn’t ever lose that tight composure, until he allowed himself to. There were only few situations that allowed him to let loose and unleash the beast that lived within him.

It was rather obvious that there was more to him. The way he carried himself made it seem like he was no more than the stoic business man, but sometimes, sometimes you caught a soft glimpse of whatever was underneath. The way his eyes shone in a certain light.

 His brother was enough.

His wife, of course.

 But you were clever. And your sense of self-preservation forbade you to pry. All you had to do was do your job. And what was your job?

You found yourself applying a drop of perfume to your neck and your wrists, staring at your form in the mirror. The black lace covered most of your intimate parts, but it was just enough to leave him yearning for more. He liked that especially – when he had to use his imagination.

But sometimes, on rare occasions like that night, he needed more. He needed a little, naughty dream, to distract him from the turmoil that raged within him.

He was never cruel to you. He was just cold.

It wasn’t like you minded. So far, you had heard all kinds of things from a few friends of yours. Men could be vile creatures, who performed the most heinous crimes, whenever they felt like it. You were sure you could call yourself lucky, when it came to that.

He was older, that was out of question. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not for you anyway.

You couldn’t tell when that started or what the exact reason was.

Your father had been a fairly good man. He never abused you and never hurt you out of the ordinary. The occasional session of spanking was something that stopped once you got older. Of course a child that steps out of line will get punished. It’s not that dramatic and you were sure, you took no damage after that.

He had been a kind man. Good-hearted. He loved you, your sister and your mother very much.

Until he got drunk.

Of course, he loved you then as well. And he never hit you then, either. Not you.

Your mother, sure. The poor, sweet woman she was. Her broken spirit cracked through the light in which her soul was covered, because she was strong like that. Gentle, but strong.

He wasn’t gentle when he drank. No, all you had to do was say the wrong thing at the wrong time and suddenly he’d explode. The way he yelled out of nowhere was the worst thing. The way he gritted his teeth like a wild animal.

You had flinched more than once during the course of your life, simply because he got so angry.

But after a while, he always calmed down, didn’t he? He came down from his demonic horror trip and suddenly, he was good again.

Of course he was proud. Too proud for anyone’s good. His pride often kept him from apologizing. In most cases, he’d just try and act like nothing changed, like nothing happened, like he didn’t just made the walls crumble with his anger.

But sometimes, when he went really overboard, he managed to swallow his pride and then he would apologize. A hug, a kiss, and everything was back to normal.

You forgave him. Why wouldn’t you? He was your father. He loved you.

But daddy issues? No. He was there, after all. He didn’t abuse you. Didn’t hit you.

You had no issues. Why would you?

Right?

You finished applying the perfume and decided to put on some lip balm. It held the faintest hint of rose-color. He didn’t like too much make-up. He didn’t like anything that felt like you were playing dress-up. The silk on your body, it only made sense if it highlighted your character in a way. Not change it.

The gloss on your lips, the blush on your cheeks. No eyeshadow allowed, unless it were natural colors. Mascara was alright, but no fake lashes.

Blush was okay, contour was not.

Lace was okay, leather was not.

J’adore was okay, Chanel Number 5 was not.

You released a slow breath and took a moment longer to check your appearance.

You were pretty, you knew that. Probably not in the way that made you get voted prom queen. More in the way that made weird men ogle you.

That was a talent of yours you had figured out at some point. Your eyes were expressive. And people loved to eye-fuck you.

Sometimes, you’d indulge. It depended on the man and the situation. It depended on the way his eyes on you made you feel.

Not any man would do. Some were perverts, some were disgusting, some desperate. You didn’t look back, when a man walked beside his oblivious wife and looked at you like he was ready to devour you. You also didn’t look back, when a man stared at you with wide eyes and licked his lip in a way that was too lecherous at once.

A subtle glance.

Not even a smile.

Just a look.

You’d look away and after a while, you’d check again. The feeling that spread in your chest was often the same. One of recognition, of attention. It made you feel pretty and desired. Someone wanted you. They were subtle about it, but not subtle enough to refrain themselves from staring.

In most cases, it didn’t lead to anything.

Sure, you had that messed-up phase, after you turned nineteen. Looking back, you really wished your father had been stricter with you. You were always allowed to do whatever you wanted. Meet who you want, do what you want, unless, of course, it got dark outside. No walking alone in the dark.

But he never checked who you were with, if you were truly where you said you were. Your parents trusted you. Back in the day, when you told them you had already finished your homework, they trusted you. Your bad grades weren’t their fault. They had trusted you to do better.

Back when you were nineteen, when you told them you were at the cinema with a few friends, they trusted you. They didn’t check, if maybe you were getting pounded away by some forty-seven year old man, who came on your face and left you feeling used and humiliated.

Never during. Always after.

You had no idea why you felt like you needed this so badly. Attention of men. Approval of men.

Men.

They were never good to you. They used you in most cases and then they’d just up and leave.

First, you were naïve. You pictured all kinds of things. Your mother’s Italian friend, who’d take you to Rome and buy you gelato. You’d walk some coast and he’d show you the lovely way Italians lived. He’d love you, you were sure.

It didn’t matter than he had a daughter your age or maybe even a few years older.

He’d love you.

But of course, he didn’t. Silly you, you really believed that, didn’t you? And he didn’t even say he would. You just made up that version of him in your head.

Some sweet guy from Oregon, who sang Arctic Monkeys song for you with his guitar. You only spoke online, but why care? You’d go and live the American dream with him. Of course you would. He had those soft, brown eyes and the voice of an angel.

You’d give him as many babies as he wanted.

So, of course you agreed, when he asked you to take your top off. Suck on your fingers, look up at the camera with doe eyes, while you did. You slipped two fingers inside yourself, moaning and gasping. Of course you were pretending. Who got off on this? Not you. All he did was stare at you. You didn’t see his face, while he pulled his pants down. It was either his face or the rest of him. But you were looking at him, while you touched yourself for him. It didn’t take him long to cum. But that was alright. You’d get married, after all. In some cases, long distance worked. This was one of them of course.

Blocked.

You spent months trying to find him again. But no way. He was gone, deleted, lost in the depths of the internet. A lost memory. A shameful one.

Sometimes you asked yourself, why your sister turned out normal. She had a job, a family, a husband who loved her. Or did he?

He did get angry, at times. And those few times when he called her a slut, when they argued. It wasn’t that bad, right?

That one time he left her standing at the sidewalk in the middle of the night, in a foreign city. It wasn’t that bad, right? She had angered him after all.

You felt nauseous, just thinking about it. Your sister was the epitome of life and liveliness. She was so spirited, that sometimes her anger scared you. Her confidence did for sure. She was your father’s daughter after all.

But the bastard she married broke that spirit.

And she didn’t even realize it. She just let it happen. You didn’t understand it.

But what you did understand was that she wasn’t as perfect as you always thought. Things were a little more complicated than you initially thought. But you were still far behind her.

You tried to push the thoughts of your messed-up existence and upbringing aside and focus on the task at hand.

Him.

Mr. Important.

You knew his real name and he knew yours, but names didn’t really matter. All you normally called him was daddy.

But luckily, you weren’t babygirl or little girl. That felt odd, even to you. It wasn’t that he was after that – someone who was remarkably younger than him. You just happened to be.

He was fifty-four, going fifty-five. You were twenty-five, going twenty-six.

Thirty years more or less, who cared about that?

And he didn’t really look his age. You found, he looked a good forty-six, maybe.

But aside from that, he was different. The were two kind of men in the world.

The real ones and the made up ones.

The ones who ogled you, while they were walking beside their wives and the ones who never got over their wife’s death and were looking for a way to distract themselves.

You had seen a picture of her. He didn’t make a secret of it. No, he was proud to having loved her. The thought filled you with something bittersweet. A part of you was jealous. Jealous, that someone got loved so intensely, that she’d never be forgotten, ever.

After all, she died young and pregnant. It made you nauseous.

And another part of you, the far bigger part, the less selfish part, it admired him.

He loved her. He loved her so dearly, that she took a great part of his soul with him, when she left.

God, you wished to be loved like that. To be loved at all.

You remembered the way you first met him. The subtle eye-contact. No smile.

But you didn’t feel like you normally did. Something about him was different. He wasn’t lecherous. He was calm. Almost like he was…lonely.

And he understood your loneliness.

The arrangement came quick and without any fuss. He did pay you, but not with money per say. He paid for your studies, he bought you gifts, sometimes he took you out to places you had never been before.

The theatre. The ballet. The opera, even.

That was what you loved the most. He didn’t just use you and left you feeling empty. He didn’t even fuck you every time you saw him. Sometimes you’d just go out. Have dinner. Talk.

You talked a lot and about everything. Sometimes you felt like you were an old soul, sometimes you felt like you knew nothing at all. He knew things. He looked at you. He listened to you.

Sometimes he could be really funny. On other nights he was rather quiet.

You didn’t care if he absentmindedly played with your hand or hair or if he stared straight ahead. Whatever he did, it always made your heart race.

You understood that you were treading on very thin ice.

Feelings were not a part of the arrangement.

He would never love you. You would never be more to him than treasure.

But when you lay there, your head on his chest and still breathless after you just spent hours doing the most wicked things to each other, you couldn’t help yourself. You craved his warmth. His arms around you and how protected he made you feel.

You couldn’t make a mistake. Nothing you did ever made him yell at you.

And that was rather dangerous.

Because you could picture it so easily. Being his wife. His everything. Having his children. Cooking his dinner. Doing all the things loving people did.

All the things loved people did.

You pushed the thought aside with intense fervor, when you heard his raspy voice call out for you.

“Treasure? Are you alright?”

You nearly gasped when you realized how long you had been in there. With a soft shake of your head and a slow exhale, you pushed down the door handle and stepped out of the bathroom. He stood in front of the fireplace and stared down at the flames, lost in thought. When he heard the door open, he looked up and met your gaze. Something in him stiffened for a moment and his gaze ran down your body slowly. You swallowed thickly and tried to push your nervousness aside.

You wanted to be perfect for him. But you were so far from perfect. Each and every time you feared he would look at you, scoff and shake his head.

“I don’t remember that much skin.”

“You looked younger last time.”

“Where’d that wrinkle come from?”

But of course he never said anything like that. Simply your insecurities, giving you a hard time.

He hummed softly and shifted so that he was fully facing you.

“You look beautiful.” He murmured. “Come here.”

You approached him with slow steps, the sound of your tiptoes the only sound beside the crackling of the fireplace.

You came to a halt before him and he tipped your chin up in a gentle way, slowly tilting your head up and making you look at him. He brushed his lips over yours in the softest way, making you shiver in response.

His hand slowly ran down the side of your neck, until his fingers brushed over the lace that covered your collarbone. His eyes followed the movement and he released a soft sigh.

“You get more and more beautiful every day.”

How did he expect you not to fall in love with him, when he was being like this?

“Thank you.” You whispered in return and swallowed a bit of your nervousness.

His eyes crinkled in a smile that hardly reached his eyes and his hands slowly came down to grip your hips.

“You know what day today is?”

You nodded.

“Good.” He whispered and dropped his hands to his sides. “Then be a good girl for daddy and distract him.”

You licked your lips and slowly pushed him back. He was letting you. Until you reached the armchair and he slowly sat down on it. You stood before him and tipped his chin up, making him look up at you now. The look in his eyes was nothing short of admiration. His breath against your skin sent a pleasant tingle down your spine.

You slowly straddled his lap and rested your knees on the armrests, pressing yourself against him and feeling the hardness in his pants press into you already. But not yet, you thought. Why not tease him a little?

You leaned in as if to kiss him, but the second before your lips met, you slowly pulled your head back, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

A low growl grumbled in his chest. “Stop being a brat.” He murmured.

You bit your lip and leaned back with a grin. “Me? A brat?”

“You’re just asking to be punished.”

That made you chuckle. “Well…”

“Oh, I see.” He tangled a hand in your hair and tugged on it, tilting your head back and making you look up at him. “That’s how you want to play?” He murmured and his hot breath fanned over your lips and neck. “Alright, then. I invented this game, little dove.”

He released his grip on your hair and grabbed you by the hips, standing up and holding you against him. He picked you up like you weighed nothing and strode off to the bed, practically throwing you down onto it. The sudden intensity left you breathless and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He reached for his tie and slowly undid it.

“I thought you were daddy’s good girl. Looks like I was wrong.”

He sounded as calm as ever, not a hint of anger as usual. He was just being himself.

“I am your good girl.”

“I’d prefer you to be bad right now. Because I feel like punishing you.”

You swallowed thickly and bit your lip, like you did every so often when he got you cornered like this.

“How?” You whispered.

He smirked in that delicious way, which lit his whole face up without even trying. Then he slowly pulled the tie off and ran his fingers along the soft material.

“Turn around.”

Within seconds, you were on your knees and facing away from him. His hands were gentle as he reached for your wrists and brought them behind your back to tie them together. You took a slow breath and closed your eyes, while your body surrendered. It wasn’t hard for you. You trusted him. He knew your boundaries.

For whatever reason, with him you had boundaries.

Never in your life before had you ever told anyone to stop or not do something. Was it fear of being rejected? Simply fear? Something else? Whatever it was, it kept you from setting healthy rules to keep your body and mind safe. You were free to use. Anyone just did whatever they wanted.

Sometimes you did protest, but they wouldn’t stop and eventually you gave in.

But not so him.

He had asked not once, not twice, but countless times. Until eventually you had been forced to be honest and tell him what it was that threw you off. And to your surprise, he didn’t get angry, didn’t even move a muscle. He just nodded and accepted it.

There were a few freaky things you were into and you were obviously allowing him to do. But if there was something that you didn’t want, he didn’t do it. Just like that.

How hard it was not to fall for him. Impossible even.

He tied your wrists together fairly tight and made a point of pulling on the tie to make sure it was good enough. You felt his gaze roam along your back silently. He then ran his fingertips up your back, over your shoulder blades and eventually the back of your neck.

“You’re my little brat, aren’t you?” He purred.

When you didn’t respond at first, he made a point of gently tugging on your hair.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“And you’ve been bad, haven’t you?”

When you nodded, he tugged again, slightly harder this time. You gasped and immediately added: “Yes. Yes, I’ve been bad.”

“So, you deserve to be punished. How should I punish you?”

There was only one right answer to that.

“However you wish.”

You heard the way he smirked. “Good girl. You’re learning.”

He hummed and slowly circled you like a predator. Of course you felt rather exposed, kneeling on the bed like that, wearing nothing but that thin piece of lace and nothing to cover the dampness between your legs.

“Look at you.” He murmured. “So open and ready for me. Let’s see how ready, shall we?”

He didn’t hesitate to slide his hand between your legs and run a finger over your wetness. You couldn’t help but inhale sharply. Your body was aching for his touch.

Surprisingly, he knew how to make you cum. Pretty good even. No other man had ever accomplished that. You’d normally count only on yourself for that, but Mr. Important? Fuck, he was skilled.

He circled your clit in the same skilled way, causing you to squirm and gasp under his touch. He began to work his fingers on you more and more quickly, keeping his gaze firmly on your face. Your brows furrowed in a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment, but you didn’t care. You were so close. So close. So-

You whimpered when he sharply withdrew his hand, leaving you aching.

“Please-“ You whined.

“Not yet.” He said calmly. “Open your mouth.”

You obeyed wordlessly, allowing him to slide his slick fingers into your mouth and making you taste yourself on him. The bulge in his pants became more and more obvious and it did things to you. The way he looked at you, while he made you suck on his fingers was enough to make you go dripping wet. After a beat, he slowly pulled his fingers back and dried them against his shirt. You let out a shuddering gasp.

“You still ought to be punished, if I recall correctly.”

“Wasn’t this punishment enough?” You whispered.

He smirked. “Not even close.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently draped you over his lap, stomach down and your rear up in the air. Your cheek was pressed against the sheets and you closed your eyes.

“Ten. You know the rules.” He murmured and you nodded.

His flat hand cracked against your skin, sending a sharp pain through your body. He wasn’t gentle about that. Not at all.

You cried out in pain and tried not to squirm too much. “One. Thank you, daddy.” You gasped out.

He hummed approvingly, before his hand came down a second time, causing you to wince and cry out again. Somehow, every strike seemed to get more and more rough. Your skin felt raw and sensitive, more and more with every hit, but you forced yourself to stay still and count, like a good girl. By the time you reached the seventh hit, the pain was nearly unbearable. But you knew better than to beg and plead. It only turned him on more and he was ready and eager to start anew.

“Nine. Thank you, daddy.”

“One more. Just one more, treasure. You’re almost done.”

He deliberately waited for a few seconds, causing you to go rigid and tense in his grip. The uncertainty of when the next hit would follow was nearly killing you. Just when you expected it and you winced forcefully, he instead ran his palm along your red skin gently. You took a deep breath.

And then it came.

The most painful of them all and you immediately felt tears sting your eyes. Your voice cracked as you cried out: “T-ten. Ten. Thank you. Thank you, daddy.”

He made a soft sound, filled with approval and a hint of pride. “That’s my good girl. You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

His words made you feel warm and fuzzy and suddenly you felt like crying even more. Your feelings for him were more complicated than you thought.

“Thank you.” You whispered, still trying to catch your breath.

“I think you deserve a reward.” He murmured.

You tried to swallow, with your mouth dry and whispered: “I do?”

He ran a gentle hand over your hair and hummed again.

“You do. Let’s see what we can do for you.” He shifted you gently so you lay on the mattress instead, staring up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He ran his knuckles over your cheek and smiled slowly.

“Was it too much?”

You shook your head.

He took a slow breath and nodded. “Good.” He shifted so he was on top of you now and pressed a leg between your own. His knee slowly pressed against your core and you felt your eyes fall shut. You didn’t try to hide your pathetic whimper.

He smirked against your ear and gently nipped at it. “Look at that. Have you been this wet all the time?”

Your face flushed painfully and you swallowed your embarrassment. “Yes.”

He hummed approvingly and ran his lips along your cheek, before they finally met your own. You had no time to understand what was going on, when his tongue already parted your lips and delved into your mouth. He wasn’t sweet about it, instead your tongues met in a messy battle, ready to prod at and devour each other.

“What are you?” He groaned against your lips.

“Your cumslut.” You whispered back.

He groaned again and bit down on your lower lip. “Fuck, yes, my dirty little cumslut. You want daddy’s cum, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.” You moaned out.

“Where do you want it, treasure? Dripping down your chin or deep inside you?”

Your eyes nearly rolled back. “Wherever you want.”

He pulled back just enough to kiss your neck. His kisses made you squirm and shudder, but it only ever got more and more intense. You felt so exposed and helpless, but also cared for.

He slowly moved his lips along your collarbone, before they brushed over the material that covered your breasts. He bit down on it and tore at until you felt the cold air hit your now exposed chest. He growled in response and didn’t hesitate to kiss and suck at the skin of your breast. Your hips involuntarily arched against his knee, which was still working on your core. You gasped breathlessly and rubbed yourself against him, desperate for more friction.

“Please-“

“Patience.”

He licked a wet path down your stomach, causing you to writhe and moan.

He wasn’t one for half things. When his lips reached your core, he wasn’t gentle or careful. No, his mouth enveloped your most sensitive spot and he began to work his tongue on you almost furiously. He sucked and licked, slid his tongue inside you and over your wet folds with an intensity that made you cry out. He then sucked on your clit in a way that was almost too much, but just right to make you cum so good that you felt like everything around you faded into nothingness. You felt warm and good, better than you had ever before. He took his time and made the moment last, riding out your release so intensely that you nearly had to pull away from him when it became to much. He smirked up at you and slowly came back up to face you. He was fighting for air, as were you.

“Oh God, that was-“

He pushed his tongue back inside your mouth, nearly fucking it. At the same time he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them torturously and pumping them against you in a way that brought you close yet again.

“P-Please, I- Ah!” Your release rolled over you again, hard and soft at the same time, with an intensity that was near painful. Your hips arched off the bed and you nearly screamed by the way you couldn’t find it in you to shut your mouth.

You gasped for air and expected him to finally pull back, but he didn’t. He kept curling his fingers against your sweet spot and the feeling quickly became too much. Your body was so sensitive and every new touch he added felt almost painful.

“Stop- Please- St-“ You cried out and pressed your hips against his hand involuntarily. Your release came crashing yet again, this time it was a feeling between heaven and hell. It still felt good, but it felt far too much.

“Please.” You gasped, before the feeling even was gone. “Please. I can’t take any more…”

He smirked against your lips and gently bit down on the lower one, before he slowly withdrew his hand.

“Good girl.”

You were still panting and gasping for air, when he gave your cheek a light slap. “Time for you to get to work.”

You moaned, and with some effort, fought your way to get up. Your hands were still tied, so you carefully slid down to your knees, kneeling in between his legs. He was still in his pants, so you looked up at him with innocent eyes and whispered: “Can you help me?”

He smirked again and gently cupped your cheek in his hand. “So obedient.”

He freed himself from his remaining clothes and you found yourself staring at him. Despite his age, he was so well-built and you were always desperate for every glimpse, every touch and every taste.

“Can I?” You breathed out.

He hummed and nodded. “Get to it.”

Your gaze wandered down, but he quickly caught your chin. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Your insides tingled with newfound desire. You forced yourself to keep looking at him, while your tongue slowly slid down his stomach. You saw the shift in demeanor. He was still dominant and calm, but his breathing sped up and something changed in his eyes.

“No teasing today.” He all but growled. “Let me feel that pretty mouth.”

You didn’t hesitate to obey. You parted your lips and ran your tongue over his tip. His head fell and back and he groaned. He then tangled his hand in your hair and guided your movements. He didn’t give you time to catch your breath, he just pushed you down and forced you to take him in. You were caught off-guard for a moment and felt yourself gag. He loosened his grip the tiniest bit and you began to move in the rhythm and pace that he set for you. He quickly went from calm and collected to a beast which rammed his thick cock into you and began to use your throat to his pleasure.

You felt yourself grow wet yet again as you moaned against his skin. Whenever he seemed to hit the back of your throat, he couldn’t control the low moans and groans that left his lips. Your movements became more and more frantic, determined to make him feel just as good as he had you.

Of course you wanted him to fuck you and he probably would in an hour or two. And again and again and again…But right then, you wanted nothing more than for him to shoot his hot load into your mouth and down your throat.

You sucked and flicked your tongue against him in a way that made his grip tighten more and more until he-

He went still, except for his cock, which was throbbing furiously inside you. He came with a low growl and he filled your mouth with his seed. He held your head in place, until he rode out his release. When he finally caught his breath back, he released a soft sigh and his grip on your hair became gentle again.

“Oh God, that was…” He sighed again. “Fuck.”

You slowly swallowed every drop of his cum, all the while never taking your eyes off him. His eyes instantly darkened again and he ran his thumb over your tongue.

“My good girl. My treasure.” He breathed out. “I’m so proud of you.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. It became increasingly gentle and he slowly cupped your cheek in his hand.

“That was incredible.” He murmured. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He reached behind you and carefully freed your from his tie. Then he slowly rubbed his thumbs over your sore wrists.

“Does it hurt?” He murmured. You shook your head.

He pulled you up onto the bed again and gently laid you down beside him. He stared down at you for a long moment, before he finally rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a full-course meal right now.”

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around him, slowly running your hands down his back. “Isn’t that what you just gave me?”

He smirked and slowly opened his eyes. “You and that wicked mouth of yours.” He murmured.

Your smile softened when he pressed a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“Can I stay for the night?”

He would most likely let you. He never sent you away feeling used or unsatisfied or, God forbid, unwanted. But there was a part of you that needed to be reassured so badly. And he seemed to know.

He raised a brow and his own expression softened.

“Did you expect anything else?”

His coldness melted away whenever you were like this, entangled and breathless.

No matter how many times he said that it didn’t mean anything.

His eyes told a different story.

“No.” You whispered softly and rested your head on his chest. “No, of course not.”

[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: V | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 9,619

—  warnings: sex dream, strong language, mention of sex, a lot of nervousness, mention of death, mention of murder, crying, mention of grief, heartbreak, mention of abortion, swearing, nipple play, nipple sucking, kind of fingering (not sure if it’s the correct word), and some very big tension

—  author’s note: soo this was supposed to be posted tomorrow, but in the end, I have to post it today 🤗 This chapter is honestly quite intense in a lot of levels, but it unveils a lot about oc’s past, and we will finally understand a lot more about what happened to her parents 🫠 hope you’ll enjoy this chapter 💞

Chapter V: unveiling the past

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

You and Jungkook are abruptly pulled out of your sleep, both affected by the very intense and heated dream you inexplicably shared. The dream involved a lot of kissing, his mouth on your nipples, his tongue lapping at your juices, your tongue swirling along his hard shaft, and his manhood inside your wetted core. It was an intense dream that you both enjoyed way too much.

After the full moon, three days ago, you haven’t really seen or talked to each other. There have been some messages here and there, mostly messages where he checks up on you. Things aren’t awkward between you, you’d actually say the opposite. However, you’re actually convinced that next time you’ll see him you won’t be able to resist him.

“Soooo,” Lexi says once you’re in the kitchen.

This night, you’ve slept at Felix’s house with Lexi to spend a little bit of time together. This whole pregnancy and werewolf journey has pushed you a bit far from them, and you don’t want that. They are a big part of you, they’ve been by your side since the beginning. So Lexi literally decided the other day that instead of having dinner all together, it’d be better if you and she slept here. Like old good times.

“You have to tell me how the little monster’s father is,” she almost demands.

“I don’t have any picture,” you instantly answer while putting coffee in a mug.

“I’m not asking for a picture,” she says. “I want you to describe the man for me.”

You roll your eyes, she’s unbelievable. She’s always so nosy, and since she has learned about the ‘I keep the baby and the father comes along’ story, she’s been dead serious to know everything about Jungkook. However, you don’t really know how to explain to her that 1) you’re a werewolf, and 2) he’s a werewolf king.

“He’s just a man,” you answer.

“You’re boring, yn,” she says before taking a sip of coffee.

“Hi girls,” Felix enters the room with the brightest smile on his face.

He leaves a kiss on top of Lexi’s head before pressing one on your cheek. When his lips meet your cheek, you close your eyes to savor this sweet moment with your father. Being on your own is all good and funny, but you always miss his sweet good morning kisses.

“Hi dad,” Lexi says. “Can you tell yn to provide us with more description than ‘man’ for her baby daddy?”

“Well, at least we know he’s a man,” he teasingly says to his daughter.

“Dad,” she moans. “You’re not helping.”

As she’s complaining to her father, you grab a plate that you place on the table with your coffee before sitting down in front of her. You take a toast, put butter on, and eat it. This is delicious. Simple but delicious.

“Okay,” you surrender. “I’ll tell you.”

“Finally!” she exclaims. “It was about damn time!”

You roll your eyes once more. This lady has an incredible personality, but you adore her. She’s literally your sunshine, you couldn’t live without her.

“It’s a tall Korean man with black short hair,” you start saying. “He has dark brown eyes and has a very athletic body.”

“So you’ve gotten to see his body closely,” she plays with her eyebrows while insinuating something sexy.

“No, I didn’t,” you instantly lie.

She furrows her brows, she knows you’re lying. It’s written all over your face.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she snaps back. “Did you already have sex with him?”

Felix chokes on his coffee, Lexi and yourself now looking at him.

“Don’t talk about that around me,” he defends himself.

“Come one, Dad,” she says. “We’re not ten anymore, we’re thirty, and your daughter is pregnant. We know babies don’t fall from the sky.”

Lexi is the type of girl to be straightforward, especially with you and Felix. In this case, she’s not wrong, but it still feels weird to be talking about sex around him. He’s like a father to you, and it’s just awkward. 

“Yeah, but still, I don’t want to know about what you do with guys,” he says.

“In this case,” you say. “We didn’t do anything like that,” you try to find an excuse without mentioning the wolf transformation. “He just spilled wine on his shirt and removed it in front of me.”

Lexi doesn’t buy it, but she pretends she does. She’s very much convinced you had sex with him, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.

“Mmm,” she says. “Is he hot at least?” she asks. “We need to know if yn junior is going to have good genetics from both parents.”

There’s a sudden heat growing under your cheeks. You don’t want to say that he’s obviously so fucking hot and that you’ve been desiring to do wild things with him. But you’re not going to say that.

“He’s not bad,” you answer. “But my kid doesn’t need him to be good-looking, they just need me.”

Now, she’s the one rolling her eyes. It’s hard to not live with her anymore because you love your little bickerings. She’ll forever be the sister the universe gave you, and despite the tragedy of losing your parents, having her and Felix is the biggest blessing of your life.

“With you as their mother, I’m mostly concerned about their ego, not their beauty.”

“You’re just jealous,” you say before taking another bite of your toast.

Before any of you can add something, your phone rings, your eyes looking down at the screen. It’s a message from Jungkook. A smile appears on your face.      

 “It’s your baby daddy, I guess,” her words make you look up at her.

“Maybe,” you say.

You take your phone to see what he wants.

From Jungkook: Hi yn, how are you today? 😊

His message warms your heart. He’s been asking you every morning how you feel, and you can’t help but find this sweet. You know it’s because you’re carrying his child, but it’s still nice of him to do it.

To Jungkook: Hey Jungkook, all good here, and you? 😊  

His answer comes quite rapidly, Lexi looking at you very intrigued.

From Jungkook: I’m good too 😊 are you still up to meet the shadow’s alpha?

Now your heart starts hammering fast in your chest, and you take a deep breath. Meeting people who can help you unveil your parents’ past is exciting yet stressful. You wish nothing more than to meet this alpha, but you’re also scared of what you’ll find out.

“Are you okay?” Felix asks.

Your eyes look up to meet his. Although you absolutely adore him, you don’t want to tell him about this yet. You don’t even know how to tell him that you’re a werewolf. One thing you’re sure of, you want to know a bit more about your parents’ story before telling him anything. You’ll tell him one day, but not just yet.

“Yeah,” you say.   

To Jungkook: yep still good

Then, you agree with him to meet tomorrow at 4 pm. As you don’t want to stress too much over it, you join Lexi and Felix’s conversation.  

Your heart is beating extremely fast, your foot taping nervously on the floor, and your eyes gazing at the city passing before you. People are walking on the busy streets, many cars are moving around you while Jungkook is driving to the house of Mister Song Sungmin.

None of you speaks, his eyes glancing at you from time to time. He’s not sure if he should say something; he’s scared to say something he shouldn’t or that will hurt you. This is such an important moment for you. You’re about to meet someone that might have known your parents, and their true past.

“You okay?” he simply asks after a while.

“Yes,” your eyes leave the city to look at the man driving.

He’s back to wearing a suit which makes him look powerful, as always. You guess that he’s wearing a suit to reinforce his stature as king, projecting authority for the meeting you’re about to have with an Alpha.

This time around, it’s a grey suit with a black shirt underneath it. He’s extremely hot. But your mind doesn’t really dwell on it for long. All you truly think about is this meeting. It’s what truly matters right now.

A couple of minutes later, you arrive in front of a very pretty house. It seems to be the cozy type.

“Before going inside, there are a few things to know,” Jungkook explains. “Song Sungmin is one of the most powerful Alphas of your pack. He’s moved here after meeting his wife, Song Eunji who happens to be the daughter of a Blood. He’s also the uncle of my best friend, Taehyung.”

You nod before taking Jungkook’s hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

He offers you a small smile, a cute little dimple appearing on his face. Every time he smiles at you, you want to touch it.  

“I’d do anything to help you.”

And you’re grateful for everything he has done so far. No matter how things evolve between you, you’ll carry him closely in your heart. For sure, your baby is lucky to have him as their father.

“Let me know when you feel ready,” his thumb soothes your hand.

“We can go,” you tell him. “No need to make this last longer.”

In no time, you’re standing on Mister Song’s porch, waiting for him to open the door. Your heart is strongly hammering in your chest. This is more than scary, but you feel like you’re slowly getting closer to unveiling the truth about your parents. Strangely, it also makes you feel closer to them.

When he opens the door, your entire world freezes. Even your heart stops beating. You know this man. You met him twenty years ago, on the night your parents were killed. He’s the man that protected you from the butchery.

Twenty years ago, you were watching TV with your parents, but around 8 pm, somebody knocked at the door. It was your mother that opened it, and she was discussing with a man before she came to take you.

“Mommy and Daddy need to do something,” she told you in her honey-like voice. “This man is a good friend of mine, and he will take care of you while we’re gone.”

You were only ten so you didn’t question it. You didn’t think much about the fact they had something to do at 8 pm, something definitely unusual. You didn’t question the fact that you had never seen this man before. You didn’t even notice how scared she looked. You didn’t question anything, something you’ve deeply regretted your entire life.

This man took you to an ice cream store, offered you all the ice cream you wanted, and talked to you. Back then, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. It wasn’t every day that an old friend of your parents would come and give you all the ice cream you wanted. Over time, you forgot about the man’s name because, on that tragic night, you lost your parents. This man didn’t matter anymore.  

Jungkook’s glance goes from you to Sungmin, and he doesn’t need to be a genius to understand you both know each other. It’s definitely surprising, but not completely. You’re living in the same city, and you’re part of the same pack.

“You’ve already met, I suppose,” Jungkook breaks the long silence between you.

You and Sungmin nod, your eyes never leaving his.

“Please come inside,” he invites you in.

Before closing the door, he looks around to make sure nobody else is there.

“Would you like something to drink or eat?” he proposes with a smile on his face.

As you look at him, you notice that he hasn’t changed at all, except for the grey hair. He still has a warm and comforting smile on his face. A smile you never forgot.

“No, thank you,” you answer.

Jungkook answers the same, and the older man guides you toward the terrace. His house is pretty modest and filled with pictures everywhere. It might be his children and grandchildren. There are also pictures of him younger and he definitely hasn’t changed in a while. It seems like he always had this compelling posture as if he has always meant to be an Alpha.   

“Please take a seat,” he shows the chairs arranged around the table.

The three of you sit down, your eyes wandering around. This terrace is very beautiful, you hope that one day you’ll have a similar one. But you’ll need to earn a lot more money.

“So this is yn,” Jungkook introduces you. “The woman I talked to you about on the phone.”

“I know who she is,” the older man says, his eyes moving to you. “You’ve grown a lot in twenty years,” he smiles at you. “And you’ve become a wonderful woman.”

“Thanks,” you smile back at him. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Sungmin looks away for a minute as he wants to hide the tears forming in his eyes. You are his biggest secret. Nobody ever knew that, twenty years ago, he offered you as much ice cream as you desired. When he looks back at you and Jungkook, you only feel compassion for this man.

“I knew one day we’d meet again and I’ve been waiting every day, for the past twenty years,” he begins. “I was expecting you to come earlier, but I’m glad you finally came.”

“What happened?” Jungkook asks with curiosity.

Sungmin takes a deep breath, a lump forming in his throat as he remembers the events.

“Twenty years ago, your father the king found her parents. The ones that were running away from the pack for ten years.”

He doesn’t need to say much more. Jungkook knows. On your side, you frown, not sure to understand what he means, but you carefully listen to him.

“When I was informed of it, I ran to their house. I needed to see for myself if their child was still alive. If they really had a child ten years prior. Before I even knocked at the door, I heard that little giggle only a kid can do. It broke my heart,” a tear runs down his face. “And I took the terrible decision to take that child away from the house. I took that child as far away as possible because I was scared they could hear the screams of their parents. I didn’t want that child to grow up with that trauma.”

Then, you start to understand what is going on. You’re not a werewolf, or at least not completely. You’re a hybrid, and your parents were killed because of that. That explains why they never talked about it to you. They didn’t know if one day you’ll manifest any wolf signs. That’s why they also ran away from their hometown, and why your grandparents never approved their love. One of them was a human.

“I lied to everybody, I made them believe I had killed the child. Since nobody saw her face, it was easy to lie,” he looks down at the table. “I knew what I did was wrong, but killing a ten-year-old for a sin she never committed was inhuman. Putting an end to a pregnancy is one thing, but cutting short a child’s life is totally another,” his eyes look back up at you. “I don’t regret what I did, and I will never regret it.”

Shivers run down your spine. So your wolf abilities weren’t really dormant, they were there all along, but they were mixed with human blood. The pregnancy simply awoke that side of you, especially since you’re carrying a wolf’s child. Your baby is the reason why you’re now able to turn, and why your powers have increased. Your baby is the reason why you’re finally digging into your past.

“Since you’re a hybrid, I never knew what to expect. All I expected was for you to find me one day, and you did.”

“So Jung… Mister Jeon’s father is the reason why my parents were killed?” you ask.

Jungkook finds it weird that you call him Mister Jeon, but he can understand it. You’ve always been very respectful and even though you’re pretty close now, you still respect his king stature.

“No,” he shakes his head. “We are.”

Tears start appearing in your eyes, and both men only feel sorry for you.

“Your mother was a werewolf and had fallen in love with a human. She was the rebellious type, she never really followed the rules. Her parents and the pack were repeating that this love story would only end badly, but she didn’t care. Then, she got pregnant and ran away with your father,” Sungmin explains. “Hybrids are forbidden as you might know so we tracked her. For nine years we looked for them, but it was in vain. We then asked for the king’s help because he had better resources than us. In a year, he found you and we did what we had to.”

Now, the tears run down your face as you realize the extent of the situation. Your entire existence is forbidden. You shouldn’t exist, but here you are. And on top of that, you’re pregnant with the king’s child. Another forbidden life.

“How did my mother react when she saw you?” you ask.

“She wasn’t surprised at all, she even thought I was going to kill her, but I told them I wanted to protect the three of you,” he answers. “She told me that the only person she wanted me to protect was you. She was ready to face the consequences of her actions, but she didn’t want you to die for her sins.”

Thinking about her selfless move breaks your heart. You’re trying as hard as possible to not burst into tears in front of this man. Your mother always put you first, she was always making sure you were happy.

“She knew that the pack would kill you first, right in front of her eyes. She didn’t want her last souvenir to be that so I respected her last will—to protect you.”

Jungkook’s hand finds yours to hold it as tight as possible. This mustn’t be easy to hear. It mustn’t be easy to learn that you’re a hybrid. The only living hybrid.

“Who murdered them?” you ask. “My grandparents?”

The older man shakes his head. “They weren’t even present; how could they be? No matter what, she was their daughter. A daughter they deeply loved. It was another Alpha who did it,” he seems obviously very shaken up by this event. “Our pack has never been the same since then. Your grandparents retreated completely, grieving forever a daughter and granddaughter they lost. Each year, we gather together at your grandparents’ place to pay tribute to your mother and you.”

It devastates beyond comprehension to picture it. People have been grieving someone alive all along. People have been thinking about you when they hadn’t even met you.

“Even if you’re a hybrid, you’re part of our pack, and your grandparents always made sure to include you in those heartbreaking moments.”

“So you never revealed to them I was alive?” you ask.

Sungmin shakes his head. “I tried many times, but the words never left my lips.”

Right now, you only want to disappear. You don’t want anybody to see you while this devastating pain eats you alive. Mister Song and your parents protected you from death. They allowed you to live when you shouldn’t have.

Your wish to disappear is granted when you do so due to all the intense emotions you’re feeling right now. Jungkook is then unable to see you, but he can still feel you as his hand remains on yours. His fingers never stop caressing you in an attempt to calm the storm growing inside you.

Sungmin follows you and disappears as well but you’re still able to see him. You still see him like he didn’t blur into his surroundings. It’s so weird.

“I’m so sorry, yn,” his hand reaches out to yours, a hand that you hold.

“It’s not your fault,” you try to reassure him. “You did what my mother wanted; you protected me from a certain death.”

“But I could have insisted, I could have protected them,” he answers.

“You know better than I do that the pack would have never stopped looking for them. The issue would have been the same no matter what.”   

Your parents' end was destined to be tragic, but they chose to love each other. They chose each other despite the bans. They chose to have a child together and protect you as long as they could.

They knew from the beginning that you’d end up growing up without them. And right now, you hate them as much as you love them. They did all this for you, but you still hate them for knowing you’d be alone and without them.

Then Sungmin reappears, his gaze serious and looking at Jungkook, his king. He knows now what will happen to him. He’s a traitor. He helped a forbidden couple, protected a child that shouldn’t exist, and lied to the entire werewolf community.  

“Mister Jeon,” his voice tone is deep. “I’m ready to face the consequences of my acts.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, your eyes now looking at Jungkook. Slowly, you reappear as well. Jungkook has never faced such a situation, and he can’t make a decision in the heat of the moment. He needs to think, and most probably, he’ll have to report this incident to the council. Not only did Sungmin break the rules, but there’s a hybrid walking amongst them. The council will show no mercy to you and Sungmin.

But he can’t lose you, not after all of this.

He has a very strong and deep connection with you, and you’re carrying his child. This isn’t simple anymore.    

“Mister Song,” he says with a very strong tone. “I appreciate your honesty; it has enlightened us about Miss y/l/n’s past. But I can’t decide right now what to do.”

The older man nods, understanding that Jungkook is now deeply involved. He can hear that faint heartbeat in your belly, and above anything else, he can smell that baby’s scent. It’s a unique one. They’re carrying the strong scent that only the child of a king has. He can also see how deeply the king cares about you.

His decision doesn’t just implicate the Alpha. It implicates you, the baby, and him. Whatever he decides, the three of you will be impacted. It isn’t a light decision to make.

“I will be thinking about it and come back to you once I’ve decided.”

The Alpha bows to his king as a sign of respect. It’s really impressive the power Jungkook holds, and how even such an old Alpha submits to his king. This is incredible.

“Thank you, your Majesty,” he says while bowing.

The drive back to your place is done in complete silence. In some way, the car feels heavier, as if the weight of the truth you’ve just learned is pressing down on you. This time, your eyes are red and swollen, and your face is ravaged by the tear you couldn’t hold back anymore. Learning about your past terribly scared you, but knowing it breaks your heart. Now, you know what happened on that tragic night in July. You now understand why your parents were so cruelly murdered—or should you say executed—, and why you were spared.

Jungkook keeps his eyes focused on the road, but you can sense the tension in him. His grip on the wheel is tight, his knuckles turning white, and he constantly glances in your direction. He wants to say something, to comfort you, but nothing seems to come out of his mouth. He isn’t even sure his words will ever be able to comfort you.

Once in front of the apartment complex, he slows the car to a stop. His eyes shift to you fully for the first time. There’s something in his expression that stops your heart. There isn’t only worry, there’s pain as well, as if he’s carrying this burden with you. You’ve never seen that in his gaze; he’s never looked at you this way before, so unguarded, so raw.

The moment your eyes lock with his, the world around you seems to disappear. There’s no sound, no city around you, no heartbeats echoing in your ears. There’s just the two of you. His presence is comforting, it’s like he’s healing your sorrows in a way you can’t explain. How can someone make you feel this way, so understood, so seen?

“Can you stay with me, please?” you finally ask as you try to control your voice. “I don’t want to stay alone today.”

His response is immediate, and his voice is reassuring, “Sure,” he nods. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

The gratitude in your chest is overwhelming, and you manage to offer him a small smile.

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

Jungkook pulls into the nearest parking space before cutting the engine. You sit there for a moment, neither of you speaking. The air is heavy with unspoken emotions. Finally, he steps out of the car and moves around to your side, opening the door and offering you his hand. His touch is warm, and grounding, and you take it without hesitation.

Without removing your hand from his, you both walk to your apartment. Jungkook is very much tempted to intertwine his fingers with yours; to offer you some unspoken reassurance but he doesn’t do anything, too scared of crossing an invisible line. Even inside the elevator, your hands remain locked. Neither of you speaks, but the warmth of his palm against yours feels reassuring. You only separate your hands to open the door.  

When you get inside, you both strip off your coats and shoes. You look at him, and he is lingering near the door, unsure whether he should move further.

“Do you want to drink or eat something?” you ask out of politeness.

“No, thanks,” he shakes his head. His voice is calm, but there’s something in his eyes. There’s concern, guilt, and ache that he doesn’t try to hide.

You nod and move to the living room to sit on the couch. Jungkook hesitates for a moment before joining you, sitting close but not too close. However, you close the distance as you throw yourself in his arms. You don’t hold back any tears, now crying in his arms. You’ve only known him for two months, but nobody has ever made you feel like this. You can undoubtedly trust him.

You rest your head against his chest, tears spilling over. He doesn’t hesitate, wrapping an arm around you, his hand gently rubbing your back. The warmth of his embrace melts some tension inside you, and for the first time today, you feel like you can breathe again.

None of you speaks, Jungkook just rubs your back while you cry in his arms. You deeply miss your parents and discovering what truly happened to them devastates you beyond comprehension. Will you ever be able to overcome this? Will you now be able to finally accept your parents’ death?

You’re not sure, but only time will tell.

However, now the biggest question is what will happen to you? You’re a hybrid. You’re not supposed to exist, let alone the life growing inside you. Will you have to terminate the pregnancy? Will you be executed like your parents were twenty years ago? Jungkook is the only one who can answer you. He’s the one who’ll have to make that decision.

And, then there are your grandparents. They believe that you’re dead, and you’d like to meet them. You’d like to tell them that you’re very much alive, that Mister Song protected you all this time, that he saved your life. You’d like to tell them that they don’t have to honor your memory anymore.  

But you aren’t even sure you can do that. You aren’t even sure that they’ll accept to meet you.

And there’s also your paternal grandparents. You’d also like to meet them. They are human, and their opinion of you might be pretty much different. Unless they know their son married a werewolf. Now that you know the truth, you desperately desire to meet your grandparents. The four of them.

You’d also like to know if you have uncles, aunts, and cousins. There is so much you want to know about your family, but let’s not rush anything. First, you need to digest what Sungmin revealed. There was a lot of information.

Slowly, but surely, your tears stop falling down, and the pain inside your heart seems to be a bit more bearable. But you still hold onto his embrace for a little more. You don’t want to let go of him just yet.

“Thanks a lot for your support,” you say while you put an end to the embrace and clean your face. “You’ve helped me so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smiles. “You were embarked in this by my fault. The least I can do is help you.”

“This was never your fault in the first place,” you shake your head.

Maybe the clinic’s mistake wouldn’t have changed anything. Maybe, no matter who the father was, the pregnancy would have awakened your wolf blood. But, no matter what you have wolf blood in you, and sooner or later, something would have triggered it. The good part is that with the clinic’s mistake, you have Jungkook by your side.   

“But now we’ve discovered I’m a hybrid,” you continue.

Jungkook nods, his hand running through his hair. It’s the first time that he doesn’t know what to do. He’s completely lost because he’s starting to have feelings for you, and because it involves his child too. The rules are clear: hybrids can’t exist. But he never pictured himself falling for one, and having a child with one too. Your baby carries human blood; they aren’t of pure blood. How can such an heir exist? Nobody will ever accept to be ruled by the child of a hybrid.  

On top of that, this child is also the first one who isn’t fully a Blood. They have the blood of the Shadows running down their veins. Jungkook strongly believes that his blood will predominate, but there’s still a chance that they choose to be a Shadow. It will destabilize everything.

The thing with mixed-blood kids is that nature will choose to which pack they’ll belong. Nobody can belong to two packs. For sure, they’ll carry the heritage of both since their parents will be from two different packs. But we can’t know beforehand which pack they’ll be part of. It’ll only be found out at birth because once out of the womb, they’ll have the pack’s eye color for a couple of days.

There are so many unknowns now with this child.  

And he still has to reveal to his family he’s about to become a father. He was waiting to discover a bit more about your past before telling them about this wonderful news. But now, things are again complicated. His mother will tell him to put an end to both yours and the baby’s life. He’s not sure how his siblings might react to this, but he’s not expecting something positive.  

“What will happen to me?” you ask with a shaky voice.

His eyes meet yours, and they are glowing with something that gives you some hope.

“I’ll protect you,” he responds without hesitation. “Nobody is ever going to hurt you. I won’t let anyone touch you,” his tone is firm and assertive.  

Your heart now beats rapidly in your chest. It reassures you that he’ll protect you, and it means a lot since he’s a king. He’s supposed to be the one who leads by example, yet, he’ll be the first one breaking the rules. He’s going to protect a hybrid, a person that shouldn’t exist.

Jungkook gets closer, his hand delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear. This simple gesture sends shivers down your spine. Your eyes get lost in his, and the world seems to disappear around you as his thumb lightly brushes against your cheek, leaving a warmth that spreads through your entire body.   

Time seems to pause, the air between you charged with unspoken desire. His face moves dangerously closer to yours until you feel his hot breath on your skin. Your heart hammers faster and faster in your chest, and for a brief moment, nothing else matters. There is no doubt that he’s about to kiss you, and truthfully, there’s nothing else you want more right now.

You know you wanted your first kiss to be deliberate, free from the chaos of emotions you’ve been swept into. But none of that matters now. The yearning you’ve buried rises to the surface, consuming you. All you care about is to taste his lips against yours. You want to know how they feel on yours. Those wild sex dreams have ignited something inside you, and you terribly desire to bring those dreams to life.  

His nose brushes against yours, the bare touch making you shiver. His proximity is intoxicating, and your lips are a breath away from meeting. When his eyes search yours, you know he’s silently asking for permission. And this time, you don’t pull away. Instead, your lips part slightly, and he sees the answer in your expression.

Then, he finally closes the distance. His lips press against yours with hesitation at first. The kiss is soft, and it feels like you’re discovering a part of yourself you never knew existed. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you while he deepens the kiss.

The world entirely disappears as his lips move against yours, guiding you, consuming you. Your body leans into his instinctively, your hands finding his chest, the fabric of his shirt bunching beneath your fingers. When his tongue brushes your lower lip, your stomach flips, and you let him in.

The sensation is overwhelming and beautiful, a perfect blend of desire and intimacy as your tongues meet in a slow, sensual dance. He tastes like everything you’ve ever craved but never let yourself hope for. The kiss is tender as if he’s pouring all his emotions into this single moment.

When you break the kiss, you’re both breathless, foreheads resting against each other as your eyes meet once again. Jungkook’s fingers softly caress your face, his touch is so soft it almost makes you shiver. You close your eyes to savor this moment. 

It’s a victory—not his, not yours, but yours together. You’ve been fighting this connection, but there’s no denying it anymore. This kiss has unraveled something inside you, and now there’s no going back. Now that you’ve had a taste of him, you know one thing for sure: he’s become impossible to resist.

His lips meet yours once more, but this time, he’s kissing you with a fervent passion. While kissing you, his strong body pushes you, allowing you to lay on the couch, his body hovering over yours. Then, his lips slowly descend to your jaw, your neck, cleavage, and they stop right above your shirt.

His eyes look up to meet yours as if he’s asking permission to keep going down. You nod, giving him free will to do whatever he wants. Without wasting any more time, his hand pushes down your shirt with your bra, exposing your breasts to his hungry eyes. The coldness of the air sends shivers through your body, your nipples hardening instantly. His breathing gets heavier as his eyes are glued to your chest.  

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

Then, without any warning, his warm mouth meets your right nipple to torture it with his tongue and teeth. Instant moans fall out your lips, and your hands find their way to his hair, playing with some strands while he vigorously sucks on your nipple. It feels blissful. You never imagined a simple kiss could lead to this.  

His left hand assaults your other breast, louder moans escape your lips, loving the way he’s giving you pleasure with his mouth and fingers. Your hands slightly pull at his hair while your mind is completely lost in lust. You’re completely unable to think correctly. The man on top of you shows no mercy, torturing you in the most exquisite way possible.

Jungkook definitely knows how to use his fingers and mouth, and damn, it’s even better than any wild dreams you had involving him. You don’t even want to start thinking about how it must feel to have his dick inside you.

“Jungkook…” you whisper as you picture him naked again.

That sweet sound makes his shaft grow harder, the space slowly growing smaller inside his pants. The way you turn him on is unique, nobody holds such a powerful grip on him. His mouth moves then to your left nipple to treat it exactly like your other nipple. The wetness inside your underwear only grows bigger, you can feel it. The amount of pleasure he’s giving you right now is out of mind, and you know you’ll come quickly.   

His right hand snails down on your body, stopping when it reaches the hem of your trousers. Very carefully, he unbuttons and unzips them. The second his fingers brush your core through your panties, a deep guttural sound leaves your lips, and your hand pulls harder into his hair. That action causes him to moan against your nipple.

This is such a blissful torture, but if he keeps touching you like that and moaning against your body, you’ll come undone rapidly.

His fingers slowly rub your pussy through your underwear, making you slowly turn into a moaning mess. Your body is contorting with pleasure under his, and you can feel his half-hard dick brushing against your thighs. The feeling is marvelous as you get to sense how’s feeling about this too.

Then, without further notice, he slips his fingers under your panties. His hand cups your pussy whole, and you both moan at the sensation. Jungkook is instantly welcomed with your wetness on his hot palm. Another moan slips through his mouth which makes you whimper. There’s no way you’ll survive this.  

“You’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs.

Jungkook drags his fingers down your slit, purposely avoiding your clit. You close your eyes in order to feel this all even more profoundly, a deep breath escaping your lips. The coldness of his fingers against your core is electrifying. You’re getting addicted to this man as he gives you more and more pleasure. How have you been living this whole time without his touch?

You lick your lips as he slowly rubs you up and down, spreading your own wetness over your sensitive skin. This feels so good, and it pushes away all the terrible emotions you went through today. His eyes look up at you as he desires to picture your face while being consumed by pleasure.

Your hips twitch against the couch when the tip of his finger brushes on your clit. As he does so, you feel a pleasurable electricity rushing through your body. Jungkook’s mouth stops abusing your nipple, his eyes completely hypnotized on your sweet face. His hand runs up and down your core and he makes sure that his fingertip touches your clit.

“How does it feel?” he finally breaks the silence.

“So…” you try to speak while he never stops his ministrations. “So good,” you whimper.

His fingertip now draws circles into your hardened clit, your back arching off of the couch, and your hips meeting his hand. The friction of his hand against your pussy is beyond delightful, his fingers bringing you straight to heaven.

“Jungkook,” you moan his name on repeat.

Your orgasm is slowly growing inside you, you know you won’t last any longer. It’s just a matter of seconds now. The man above you senses it the second your legs start shaking more and more. His fingers work harder, helping you chase your own pleasure.  

Then, you let go and the wave of pleasure violently washes over you. Jungkook stops his movements when he feels your juices leaking all over his hand. A smirk grows on his face, proud of himself for giving you an orgasm.

Jungkook removes his hand from your panties and buckles back your pants. Your heavy breathing slowly gets back to normal and after a while, you open back your eyes. The man who just gave you an orgasm offers you the brightest smile on earth.

“Hope you like it,” he says.

“It was wooow,” you tell him as you sit back on the couch.

The man presses a soft kiss on your cheek before arranging your messy hair. He can’t help but find you extremely adorable.

“Next time,” he whispers in your ear. “My fingers won’t be the only thing giving you an orgasm,” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine. His tongue licks your ear, a deep moan leaving your mouth.

The two of you know that this is just the beginning of what is going on between you. This connection is only growing stronger, and sooner or later, he’ll be standing between your legs, thrusting deeply inside of you.

And honestly, you can’t wait for that day to happen.

Tonight, Jungkook has arranged a family dinner.

It’s about time he reveals yours and the child’s existence to his family members. He’s pretty much nervous about this, but he has to tell them. A new life will join this family very soon. The next heir is on the way, and he can’t hide this from them any longer.

His mother is the first one to arrive, and she takes him in her arms. Then, a couple of minutes later, his younger brothers Hyunjin and Mingi make their appearances. And finally, Dohee appears with her husband, Namjoon.

It’s been a while since the entire family has been reunited under this roof. Dohee left the house eight years ago when she married Namjoon. His mother, Hyunjin, and Mingi left after the passing of his father. Back then, Yuna was slowly moving in and they wanted to give them the space they needed. After the breakup, they didn’t come back; they felt like it wasn’t their home anymore.

Hyunjin is six years younger than Jungkook, and he’s been in a very serious relationship with Nari for five years. Jungkook is surprised he hasn’t proposed to her yet; she’s his soulmate after all. Then, there’s Mingi, the youngest Jeon. He’s ten years younger and he was the surprise baby; their parents weren’t trying to have a baby at that time. Out of the four of them, Mingi was the most spoiled.

Even though Jungkook is closer to Dohee, the four Jeon’s siblings have a strong bond. The oldest always made sure they’d get along because family is so damn important. Their father’s death brought them even closer, and they’ve always been by their mother’s side to ensure she doesn’t grieve alone.

“So,” Jungkook begins, his eyes looking at the five people around the table. “Thanks for coming,” he smiles at them.

Dohee smiles back at her brother, her hand rubbing her belly. She should soon give birth to her fourth and, most probably, last child.

“There is a new Jeon on the way,” Jungkook’s smile grows bigger as he breaks the news.  

Jisoo, Jungkook’s mother stands up to hold her oldest child in her arms. Jungkook embraces her with the same strength, a tear forming in his eyes as her reaction deeply moves him.

“I’m so happy, Kook,” she says, her cheek pressed against his chest.

While he hugs his mother, he sees his sister’s face. Although she’s smiling and seems happy, something in her expression unsettles him. He knows she’s thinking about the fact that the baby is a hybrid; she was the only one aware of it back then. But, so much has happened since he talked to her, events that she will know now.

His mother sits back in her chair while her hands clean the tears on her face. Another one of her children is about to make her a grandmother again. Dohee is the only one who has been giving her grandchildren, and she’s happy Jungkook is also going to give her another one. She can’t wait to have her house filled with grandchildren.

His siblings and Namjoon congratulate him on the fantastic news. Although their reactions make him happy, he knows this light mood will not last long. They most probably will hate him when he’ll tell them what you truly are.

“Have you already met the surrogate?” his mother asks out of curiosity.

“A surrogate?” Hyunjin asks.

“I sought the help of a fertility clinic to have a child,” Jungkook explains to his brother. “It was getting harder to be waiting to become a father.”

His eyes move back to his mother to answer her question.

“But there’s no surrogate, mom,” he tells her.

Everybody’s reaction is the same. They all widen their eyes, except his sister. She’s known this for a month already, but she’s now worried about why he’s revealing this to the family. He should know nobody will be happy about him being a father to a hybrid, especially their mother.

“Are you with somebody?” she asks. “Or is it Yuna?”

“It’s absolutely not Yuna,” he instantly answers. “And I’m not with anyone, at least, not yet,” he rants.

Jisoo seems to be happy about all of this, but she still wants to understand how on earth he’s about to be a father if there’s no girlfriend and no surrogate. She starts wondering if he slept with someone only to have a child.

“The fertility clinic made a big mistake,” he explains. “A woman was mistakenly impregnated with my material, and at first, I thought she was a human. Obviously, this wasn’t possible since the baby would then be a hybrid,” they all shake their heads.

Jungkook purposely omits that he didn’t convince you to abort; his mother would kill him if she ever found out. Dohee takes a deep breath and shifts on her chair to try to find a comfortable position.

“But then, I found out that she wasn’t human,” he proceeds. “And it changed everything, she could keep the baby.”

Dohee’s expression now fully changes. She wasn’t expecting that, so she’s now very happy for her brother to have a pure-blood kid. Jungkook notices her sincere smile, and it already hurts him to even think about what he’s about to say next.

“However, she didn’t know that she was a werewolf.”

Now, they all frown, confused by this sentence. It clearly doesn’t make any sense.  

“How’s that possible?” Mingi asks.

Jungkook’s heart stammers in his chest. How does he explain now who you truly are? He’s not even sure he wants to do it, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. His family needs to learn from him that you’re a hybrid. Not from someone else.

“Her parents left their hometown, cut ties with their families, never told her about her wolf side, and died when she was still a kid,” he summarizes. “She was then raised by a human and never found out the truth until she got pregnant.”

He hardly swallows before he continues to reveal what has been going on for the past nine weeks. Honestly, those past weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster.

“I’ve been trying to help her discover what happened because as you can imagine, it’s a lot to take in.”

His heart is going crazy in his chest, and he’s barely able to look at his family as he proceeds with the story.

“She’s part of the Shadows, and I reached out to Mister Song to help us unveil her past.”   

They remain in silence, letting Jungkook speak. The man takes then an unreadable expression on his face to protect himself from what is about to come. He hates that he has to do it with his family, but he has to.

“Mister Song told us that thirty years ago, a Shadow woman ran away with a human,” his heart beats faster. His eyes move to his mother, hoping that she recalls that incident.

“Oh yeah, I remember that,” she says. “The Shadows couldn’t find them so they reached out to your father. After ten years, they managed to find them and their child.”

Jungkook bites his lower lip and he’s not sure how to continue with the story. Does he say now that you’re a hybrid? Does he maintain the mystery any longer?

“Well, we found out that the child was never killed,” he explains while avoiding saying that Sungmin spared your life. “And that child is the mother of mine.”

For a moment, the room is filled with a sharping silence. Jungkook doesn’t look away, trying to understand their expressions. They are all speechless, but he can see anger forming in his mother’s eyes. He was expecting it; she has never messed with the rules. He admires her for following the rules, not everybody does it, but this time around, it will be hard for her. He’s not going to abandon you because of your true nature. 

Mingi and Hyunjin are surprised but seem intrigued by all of this. Jungkook can see that curious flicker in their eyes. Dohee seems utterly shocked, but her expression softens when her eyes meet her brother’s. Namjoon seems mind-blown. And Jisoo, the matriarch, looks angry.  

“What?” Namjoon is the first one to break the silence. “A hybrid has been living for thirty years and nobody ever found out.”

Jungkook nods. “Yep.”

“A hybrid?” Mingi says. “That’s cool,” he continues.

“Mingi,” the mother’s harsh voice echoes in the room. “Hybrids are forbidden, there’s absolutely nothing cool about them,” her eyes now move to Jungkook. “And you, my son,” she’s very angry. “You know what you have to do.”

As he hears her words, a strong feeling of protection grows in him. Even if she’s his mother, she can’t tell him what to do, especially when it includes you.  

“No,” his tone is firm. “There won’t be any killing.”

“Neither the baby nor her can exist, son,” she responds.

“Like I said, there won’t be any killing,” his voice is calm, but still very firm.

Dohee, Mingi, Hyunjin, and Namjoon watch in disbelief the scene displaying in front of their eyes. It’s the first time Jungkook is using that tone on their mother, and it’s also the very first time he’s not agreeing with her. It seems like an unrealistic moment.

“She’s a hybrid, for fuck’s sake,” she swears, catching everybody off guard. “She can’t exist! It’s already a miracle she managed to live up until now, but you have to end her life right now before anybody else ever finds out about her.”

“Do you hear yourself, mom?” he says. “You’re talking about killing someone like it’s the same as making a cake. We’re talking about a life. In this case, even about two lives.”

The king runs his fingers through his hair, a sign that he’s extremely nervous. He knew his mother wouldn’t accept any of this, but it’s harder than he imagined. He hates to be standing against her. She has always been by his side, supporting him whenever he needed it.   

“I’m not saying it like that, but the rules are the rules,” she says.

“Then, fuck the rules!” he swears.

Now, everybody is surprised by his words. This isn’t the Jungkook they used to know; he’s been always composed and now, it seems to be losing it.

“Jungkook,” Dohee tries to intervene.

“Don’t Jungkook me,” he says to his sister.

He’s trying to stay calm, but it’s getting harder. Nobody seems to understand what he’s feeling.

“It’s easy for everybody to follow the rules when it doesn’t involve your child,” his voice tone gets higher. “I got attached to that baby even if they’re not born yet. I constantly hear their heartbeat every time I’m around her, and I can’t put an end to their life. It’s a big no,” he’s very firm. “It’s my child we’re talking about.”  

Tears start forming in his eyes, and his mother’s heart breaks as she hears his words. It makes her realize the complexity of the situation. For a moment, she puts herself in his shoes, trying to understand him.

When she found out that she was pregnant with Jungkook, it was the most beautiful day of her life. She desired her entire life to become a mother, and after her marriage, that desire only grew bigger. Hearing her son’s faint heartbeat was such an appeasing sound, and it was the prettiest sound she ever heard.

So, imagining that she needed to terminate the pregnancy because that child is a hybrid breaks her heart. It’s a decision she’s not sure she’ll be able to make. But the rules are the rules. Even if her grandchild will have more wolf blood than human blood, that doesn’t change the fact that the mother is a hybrid. She shouldn’t even exist in the first place.

“And she’s my soulmate,” his voice breaks.

Jungkook has been pushing aside the nature of his feelings for you, but after yesterday’s events, he finally realized it. You’re his soulmate. You’re the person that destiny chose for him. You’re the person with whom he’s supposed to mate. It’s a powerful bond that nobody will ever be able to break.

“I will protect her at all costs,” he adds.

His mother closes her eyes in disbelief.

“There’s nothing we can say, then,” Dohee concludes. “Except for Mingi, we all know how it feels to be around your soulmate, how powerful the love is, how deep the connection is, and what we’ll do to save our soulmates. For sure, she’s not supposed to exist, but destiny bonded her to you, our king. You have all powers, and we all know you’ll put her safety first,” she quickly looks at her husband. “I can’t blame you, Kookie. In your shoes, I would do the same. I’d save and protect Namjoon even if he was a hybrid.”

Jungkook looks at his mother, expecting now a reaction from her. Like Dohee said, she should know how he feels. For sure, his situation is messy as hell, but there’s not much he can do. If he kills you, he’ll forever be dead on the inside. A soulmate is a one-time thing; he doesn’t get to have two soulmates. 

“This is like a movie, but better,” Mingi says with a playful smile on his face. “Our brother, known as the werewolf king, falls in love with a hybrid, a forbidden species in our world, and he got her pregnant.”

“Stop being silly, Ming,” Hyunjin strikes his elbow against Mongi’s. “This is serious.”

“Rooh,” Mingi says. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. I know it’s serious, but as Dohee said, there’s nothing we can do. The hybrid is Jk’s soulmate so we better accept the situation and help him. That’s it.”

Mingi makes everything sound so easy, as he always does. His chill, laid-back, and easygoing nature makes him the most relaxed of all the siblings, and in moments like this, it’s exactly what’s needed.

“The hybrid’s name is yn,” Jungkook says once he realizes he didn’t even say your name.

“Son,” Jisoo says as she opens her eyes. “In between us, we can accept it because we know what she represents for you. But how will the others react when they realize that yn, their possible future queen, is a hybrid, and that the next heir is not of pure blood?”

Hearing his mother say that you’ll probably be the next queen makes him feel weird, but in a good way. The words catch him off guard at first, a mix of surprise and uncertainty flickering through him. But the thought of having you by his side, not just as a partner but as his equal, makes his chest swell with a warmth he didn’t expect. Maybe, just maybe, the idea of you as queen is a future he wouldn’t mind embracing. 

“We all know how they will react,” she pauses for a moment. “They will try to kill her. Soulmate or not.”

“I don’t care,” he honestly replies. “I will protect her from everything and anything.”

No matter what people say, he’ll do whatever he can to keep you safe. He’s a king so he has the resources to protect you, and he also hopes that his authority as king might protect you as well.

“Okay,” the matriarch answers. “Then, if you don’t mind, I’d like to meet her.”

A smile appears on her face. It’s not easy, but she’s ready to make an effort for her son. She’ll try to accept this all because you’re his soulmate. However, she needs to meet you first so she can see what kind of person you are.

“Okay,” he smiles. “I’ll arrange that.”

The tension slowly fades away and the family continues the dinner while talking of other things. Jungkook is aware of the fight waiting for him, and he knows it won’t be easy, but you’re worth it.

[mya-valentine]

February 8th - Kissin' On My Tattoos by August Alsina - Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader

The sound of waves lapping against the hull of the Polar Tang filled the quiet night. Inside the submarine, the hum of the engine was the only other sound. Trafalgar D. Water Law sat in his captain's quarters, his pen lazily tracing across a document. But his golden eyes were unfocused, not paying attention to the report in front of him.

He was thinking about you.

Law cursed under his breath, tossing the pen onto the desk and leaning back in his chair. This wasn’t like him—he wasn’t supposed to get attached, wasn’t supposed to care. But here he was, tangled in something that was far more complicated than just a physical connection.

The arrangement was simple at first: friends with benefits. No strings, no complications, no expectations. You both agreed to it, and for a while, it worked. Law was busy with his duties as a captain, and you had your own life, your own freedom. Neither of you wanted anything serious, or at least, that’s what you told each other.

But lately, things felt different.

Especially tonight.

He hadn’t seen you all day, which was unusual. You usually sought him out when you were on the ship, teasing him, making sly remarks, or just sitting in his room, pretending not to care while secretly craving his attention. But today, you were nowhere to be found.

And then Bepo casually mentioned that you had gone ashore earlier, dressed up more than usual, to meet someone in the nearby town.

Law’s jaw tightened at the memory. The idea of you out there, laughing, smiling, possibly touching someone else—it set his teeth on edge. He hated the way his chest ached at the thought. It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. It couldn’t be.

But deep down, he knew better.

It was late when you returned to the ship, the soft creak of the gangplank alerting Law to your arrival. He didn’t bother waiting; he was already heading toward the main deck by the time you stepped aboard.

You looked surprised to see him, your lips curving into a sly smile as you saw the way his arms were crossed over his chest, his amber eyes narrowing at you.

“Well, if it isn’t Captain Grumpy,” you teased, stepping closer. “Miss me?”

“Where were you?” he asked bluntly, ignoring your attempt at humor.

You arched a brow. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“Are you interrogating me now?” you shot back, crossing your arms to mirror his stance. “I didn’t realize I needed to report my every move to you.”

His jaw clenched. “You don’t. But it’s late, and you’ve been gone all day. The crew was worried.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “The crew, huh? Or just you?”

Law didn’t answer, but the way his gaze bore into yours said enough.

“Relax, Law,” you said, your tone softening. “I just had dinner with someone, that’s all.”

The way you said it—so casually, so effortlessly—made his stomach churn. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the idea of you sitting across from someone else, sharing smiles and laughter that he thought belonged to him, even if he had no right to claim them.

“Was it good?” he asked, his voice tight.

You tilted your head, studying him. “The food? Yeah, it was fine. The company? Eh, I’ve had better.”

Something flickered in his eyes at your words, but he quickly masked it, turning on his heel and heading back inside.

“Law,” you called after him, your footsteps echoing as you followed. “What’s your problem?”

He didn’t stop until he reached his quarters, pushing the door open and stepping inside. You were right behind him, closing the door as he turned to face you.

“My problem,” he began, his voice low and controlled, “is that you act like this doesn’t mean anything. Like it’s just some game.”

Your breath hitched at his words, but you quickly recovered, crossing your arms again. “Isn’t that what we agreed on? No strings, no drama? You’re the one who wanted it that way, remember?”

“Maybe I changed my mind,” he admitted, his voice rough.

You stared at him, caught off guard by his honesty. “Law…”

“I don’t want to share you,” he said, stepping closer. “I don’t want to think about someone else touching you, kissing you, making you laugh.”

Your heart pounded as he closed the distance between you, his tall frame towering over yours. His hand reached out, brushing against your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“I want you to myself,” he murmured, his golden eyes locking onto yours. “Is that so hard to believe?”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you did the only thing you could think of—you kissed him.

His lips crashed against yours, and all the tension, all the unspoken words, melted away in that moment. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

The kiss deepened, and soon you found yourself being guided toward his bed. But this time, it felt different. It wasn’t just about physical desire—it was about something more.

Law pulled away just enough to look at you, his breathing heavy. “You’re not going anywhere tonight,” he said, his voice firm.

You smirked, running your fingers along the tattoos on his chest, tracing the letters inked into his skin. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Your lips followed the path of your fingers, pressing kisses to his tattoos. You could feel his muscles tense under your touch, his breath hitching as you paid special attention to the black letters that spelled out “DEATH” across his fingers.

“You’ve got some interesting marks, Captain,” you teased, your voice soft.

“They’re not just marks,” he replied, his voice low. “They mean something.”

You paused, looking up at him. “And what do they mean?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. “They’re reminders. Of who I am. Of what I’ve lost.”

Your heart ached at his words, and you leaned up to kiss him again, pouring all your emotions into the gesture. You wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone, that he didn’t have to carry the weight of his past by himself.

“Whatever they mean,” you whispered against his lips, “they’re a part of you. And I like all of you, Law.”

The night stretched on, and the two of you remained tangled together, your bodies and souls entwined in a way that went far beyond the physical.

By the time the sun began to rise, you were curled up against him, your head resting on his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, and for once, he seemed at peace.

“You know this changes things, right?” he said softly, breaking the silence.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Yeah. I know.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “No more games. No more pretending this doesn’t matter.”

You smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “No more games,” you agreed.

For the first time in a long time, Trafalgar Law felt like he had something—someone—worth fighting for. And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he could finally let himself be happy.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[lilithofpenandbook]

Discrediting the canon because the author's a bigot is, frankly, rather stupid. You're not making it any less "problematic" by completely changing the characters' personalities, especially if you're still using the characters' names, and making them "queer". And I'd argue it's a very poor, uninteresting version of queerness, especially when you take the canon into account and how much more potential there is to explore those characters as queer.

Sirius Black, hyper-masculine to a serious fault. Aggressive, abusive, everything about his family that he hates but that he's not taken time to unlearn. Why not explore him, in his mid thirties, watching as everyone looks at him with something akin to pity, because poor Sirius, acting like this in such a grown age, poor man is rather pathetic, isn't he, and starting to question why. Why does everyone see him like that, and not how he wants them to see him? And he ends up slowly unlearning his toxic behaviour that way.

Or Sirius, being a trans man. The start of his battle with his mother over his very identity as a boy, not the perfect daughter she wanted. And it's established in his mind very early: womanhood, feminity itself, is bad. And he doesn't unlearn that in Hogwarts. He bullies Snape, who's clearly feminine in his very nature, unable to fathom why someone born a man would ever behave in that way, unable to understand his viewpoints are wrong, skewed by his childhood resentment and trauma.

Remus, he could so easily be queer, and had to hide it to fit in with his friends. Joining in with bullying Snape, as a way to make up for his "wrongness". Heck, even Peter could be queer and still in line with his canon personality.

Severus Snape? He's written like a female character. He is easily the queerest one. Heck, the bullying he faced even lines up with it.

Take those characters with their true flaws and faults, make them queer, and you've got a far more complicated story than the fanon version. Then again, perhaps they're too "flawed" for you. Perhaps they're too real, too human in those flaws.

This fandom is a fun place to do what we want, yes. But if you have to completely remove the characters' personalities, bring people in via the medium of ooc fanfiction, and even hound on people who actually point out the canon personalities of the characters and who want to see said canon, then you're in the wrong fandom. Full stop. And for all JKR's bigoted attitudes, she still wrote the story. You can't take that away just because she's a bad person. That's not how people work. Horrible people can create brilliant things. Bad people can create good stories, good characters. It's childish to immediately view something made by a bad person and ignore everything they made while still using it. You're not "reclaiming" it, or flipping the bird at JKR for creating this ooc fandom in any way.

You can like the series despite the author who wrote it. And if you can't, if you have to change everything to like it, then you don't like the series, and you need let go of the names taken from it. Call it an AU, even.

But don't go acting like there's no canon, and that people are wrong for wanting canonically accurate interpretations, because they fell in love with those characters, despite the author who wrote them

ppl be posting shit like "I miss canon Marauders"

Babes, there is no "canon" Marauders. Most of the shit ya'll think is canon, are just old headcanons that used to be widespread before other (usually queerer) headcanons gained popularity.

There is so little information about the "canon" Marauders - and even the info we have cannot be trusted because it's usually memories, influenced by a character's bias - that trying to make a somewhat comprehensive character out of the given material is impossible, let alone 4 characters.

Everything is fanon. Everything is headcanon. And that's the beauty of this fandom.

(Ofc my favourite part is when something actually is canon via the books or movies, and people reject it as fanon.)

[mimikittysblog]

Poly! Ateez: How You Started Dating

Synopsis: Self explanatory but this is where your relationship truly began!

Genre: Fluff and some angst | Headcanons

A/N: This one is pretty long so bear with me 😭 Also if you have any specific requests or questions about their relationship then please just ask! I’d love to answer them!

Tagging: @stay-tiny-things @jaerisdiction @bee-gremlin @gae-ping-boosay @xh01bri @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @buttercup0024 @bigarinotthelilone @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @heiswan @dalsuwaha @girl-in-love-with-kpop @ateezswonderland @starryjoong-jeongcheollie (Join my Taglist here!)

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

After texting Wooyoung for a bit you finally decided to go out together

Wooyoung sent you the address of this adorable cafe

When you got there though, you didn’t expect Seonghwa, Mingi and San to be there as well

“Oh! Hi everyone!”

“Y/n!!” They practically cheer

Basically what happened was they found out Wooyoung got your number and practically asked you out on a date

So they wanted tagged along

Wooyoung wanted to say no actually

He was scared you’d get overwhelmed

But San made him flustered by kissing him on the cheek

So Wooyoung folded 🤦‍♀️

“Heheh hope you don’t mind they decided to tag along.” Wooyoung said sheepishly

“Oh of course not! The more the merrier is almost always my motto!” You giggle

Oh your smile..

It’s brighter than any star and it makes them so happy

You guys were there and talked for hoursssss! Just having the best of times

You got to learn more about them and vice versa

Each new information you learned really deepened your feelings towards each other

It was exhilarating honestly, albeit a bit scary

It’s just happening so fast and so strong like an oncoming train

None of you would have any other way though.

After a while all of you then agreed to move to a nearby park and have a spontaneous picnic

So Wooyoung along with Mingi and San went to order more pastries while Seonghwa kept you company

While it was just the two of you, you decided to ask Seonghwa something

Throughout the entire day you’ve noticed how close to each other they really are

Like you knew how close kpop groups can be, and how sometimes it’s fanservice but these boys…

It’s just different.

Hanging out with them you can really tell how close they really are

“You guys are really close huh?”

That took Seonghwa aback and he couldnt help but feel a bit worried

“uh y-yeah we are.. we just.. love each other a lot.”

Hearing his answer you knew what he meant

But also hearing how he answered it, you knew it was kind of a sensitive topic so you didn’t want to pry.

So you simply looked up at him and gave him a comforting smile.

“It’s beautiful to see.”

The truth is… none of them are dating yet

Though none of them could deny their feelings and chemistry

But they knew how difficult it would become if they actually confronted it

So they kind of just let it be

The only one who really has a thing going on is Wooyoung and San

But they never really put a label on it

They hooked up one night after all the tension build up and ever since then they just.. became “official” but not

It’s complicated

But their “relationship” also didn’t really stop them from hooking up with the others

Actually most of them have hooked up with each other

Some are a bit afraid to take it that far though

Jongho for example once got caught up in a makeout sesh with Yeosang but he didn’t feel ready or comfortable

It wasn’t Yeosang’s fault!

He’s just never been a touchy guy and he’s just now facing the reality that he has feelings for one of his members

Possibly more…

Yeosang understood so they stopped and just cuddled and talked a bit

Though he was still kinda riled up

So the next day Wooyoung was happy to help him out

Mingi also finally confided in Yunho about his feelings one time

Yunho knew.

Everyone did.

But Yunho didn’t know what to do due to his beliefs and upbringing

So he held back his tears and just gave Mingi a long passionate kiss

Whispered a soft “I’m sorry” and just left it at that

Mingi knew what Yunho meant with that kiss

It’s the best Yunho could give to him (at the time)

It’s Yunho’s way of telling him that he feels the same but he can’t act on it

Mingi of course respected that but he was heartbroken

He confided in Seonghwa soon after and asked him to distract him

Seonghwa was also happy to help

While they were often paired up and at first gravitated towards a certain member

They still found themselves deeply connected with everyone else outside of this natural pairing

Like while Hongjoong had that married vibe with Seonghwa, he couldn’t deny his feelings for Yunho from the first moment they met

Seonghwa also wanted nothing more than to always take care of and love Yeosang

Yunho adored Mingi from childhood but Wooyoung was always able to bring the feeling of comfort to him

Yeosang treasured Jongho but he’d also do anything for Hongjoong

San couldn’t imagine a life without Wooyoung, while he also cherishes Seonghwa like diamonds

Mingi has an incessant need to make sure Jongho is safe from harm all the time

Wooyoung would move heaven and earth for Mingi

And Jongho will forever admire San and everything he does

And whats listed here is just the tip of the iceberg

It goes for everyone and honestly runs deeper than what words can describe

It’s all just a big mess right now

Their jobs and society has made it all too difficult for them

But they all knew what they felt was real.

Even with the unknowingness of it all, they’d still do anything for each other.

…And possibly you.

“..yeah you think so?” Seonghwa asks back

“Of course! Like I said, the more the merrier. I see no reason to put a limit on a beautiful thing such as love.”

Seonghwa was really touched.

“Society has put useless and cruel rules on everything. Especially love. And For what? Power? Money? God knows. It’s frustrating.. but I don’t think it should stop us. It’s what makes us human. And hey!” You say before looking back up at him.

“Some rules are meant to be broken.”

Seonghwa honestly felt his brain chemistry being altered 🤯

And after about a week since your hang out, he still couldn’t get your words out of his head.

He decided that it’s finally time to really confront their feelings.

No matter how complicated.

No matter what consequences it’ll bring

It just has to happen now.

‘Cause he fears that if it doesn’t, it may never.

So he one night sat everyone down and then just confessed.

“It’s no secret. But It’s best I do say it. I love all of you. Romantically. And i think we really need to talk about how we should go about this. I won’t pressure any of you to do things you don’t want or aren’t ready for. But again.. a clear understanding needs to be had. I don’t think any good will come out of side stepping this anymore.”

To say they were surprised that this was what Seonghwa wanted to talk about would be an UNDERSTATEMENT‼️

To put it lightly, they were hesitant to say anything at first

When in fact they were LEGIT TERRIFIED ACTUALLY

One of them probably almost shat their pants, they were that scared.

So the room was silent for a while after Seonghwa first spoke

But then in a blink of an eye, everything came spilling out

Confession after confession filled the room

Followed by wishes of their hearts desires

And burdens being lifted one after the other

They all spoke about their true feelings in this vulnerable moment

All except one.

“..Yunho..?”

At the call of his name he looked up with tears in his eyes.

“..I-I need time..”

He says with a shakiness the boys have never heard from him

“alone.”

And with that he just got up and left.

Leaving the boys absolutely concerned with an indescribably tightness in their hearts.

Belief is a fickle thing that one

What he’s feeling…

What the members are feeling and doing..

It wasn’t what he was taught.

So he’s lost

It wasn’t like he hated the members or anyone for their sexuality

He could never hate them for anything

He was actually more jealous.

He felt jealous that he couldn’t act upon what he was truly feeling

When Mingi confessed to him that night he has never felt more sad and never cried harder

He wanted nothing more to yell out to the world how much he loved Mingi..

How much he loved all of them.

His belief always brought him comfort and it was never something that felt restrictive thankfully

So when this happened..

The first ever time his belief caused him to feel like this..

His mind and heart feels like it’s in tatters.

He needed an answer or some kind of sign!

So now he’s walking to the nearest church

Already praying for his God to tell him what to do

And when he almost arrived, thats when he spotted none other than you

You were just about to enter a small little cafe that was just near the church

She looks beautiful with the moonlight shining on her…

Is this the answer..? The sign?

It couldn’t have been just a coincidence that the one person who also has been shaking his heart and wasn’t there at the dorms happened to be right there in front of him when he was looking for an answer.

So he walked up to you hoping that you were indeed the answer

“Y/n…”

“Yunho..?! Omg Yunho! Hai!”

When you noticed his distressed state you quickly invited him in to sit with you at the cafe

You told him you’ve always wanted to try this cafe out but never had the time

Yet for some reason on this particular night you decided to finally try it out..

“So.. What are you doing here? ..oh! There is a church nearby! Were you going there?”

You asked with such concern and softness that he couldn’t help but let the tears spill

Not just the tears but his feelings as well

He told you everything, what happened with the members, how he feels, and his conflicts within

“I-I.. I just don’t know what to do… I.. I love them.. I do… so much!! But.. can i?”

You’ve followed Ateez for the longest time and yet you’ve never seen this sunshine of a boy so broken

This must be that difficult for him

So you held his hand as gently as you possibly could before speaking just as gently.

“Yunho.. I’ll tell you what I told Seonghwa… Love is a beautiful thing. And it shouldn’t have limits.”

Those words touched Yunho as much as it touched Seonghwa.

However you then went on to explain how you didn’t want this experience to sway his faith

You told him how admirable his dedication to his faith is and how it helped mold him to be the person he is today

Finally you explained how while that was your answer to his question, he still needs to answer this on his own.

“Whatever the answer will be… remember it shouldn’t be hurting you in the long run. Coffee is on me this time Yunho. I hope you find it and get home safe okay?” You tell him softly

You then softly wiped one of his tears that was still flowing, got up, payed and left.

He thinks he found it.

He still decided to stop by the church though

He prayed and confessed one last time about how he truly felt about everything and begged for one last sign.

A sign to tell him that he’s mistaken, that if this truly wasn’t the answer then tell him now.

Yet nothing came.

Well there was one…

But it wasn’t exactly the sign he was asking for

But one he needed.

When he entered the dorms again, Mingi was there waiting for him on the couch.

The boy who he first had feelings for.

“Yunho…”

He knew that this was his answer too.

He wasn’t gonna hold back anymore.

So without hesitation he raced to Mingi, grabbed his face and gave him a passionate kiss where he poured everything into it.

“I won’t hold back anymore. I want to love you all. No limits.” He confesses softly

From there the two went to bed together

And made love actually 🥹💕

Then the next morning he called for another meeting and official confessed how he truly felt.

Asking for all of them to be together

And just like that they made it official 🩷

The next day after that, you received another text from Wooyoung asking to meet up again

Which of course you happily agreed to!

Yet when you arrived this time, all of them were there too.

And they were oh so happy to see you.

Their catalyst.

You all had a wonderful time once again

And by the end of the day, you went from having 0 boyfriends to 8 just like that

You lucky dawg 🤭

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

© mimikittysblog 2025

[xhoess]

ATEEZ COLLEGE SERIES

Hi! Since i am bored out of my mind i am starting a series where all Members get a one-shot in a college setting.

In the making......

Hongjoong – "Midnight Melodies"

Strangers to lovers

By day, he’s the perfect student council president. By night, he’s a rebellious musician with a secret. And now, you’re the only one who knows.

DONE

More under the cut.. AND COMMENT IF YOU WANT IN THE TAGGLISTTTT

Seonghwa – "Sketching Secrets"

Classmates to lovers

They say Seonghwa is quiet because he has something to hide. When you get too close, you learn the truth is far more dangerous than the rumors.

Not started yet...

Yunho – Game Changer

Tutor to lovers

Tutoring the school’s star athlete was supposed to be simple. But when he starts looking at you like you're the only thing more important than winning, things get complicated.

Not started yet...

Mingi – "Rhythm of the Heart"

Tutor to lover

Dancing with Mingi was supposed to help you improve, but now every step makes your heart race for a different reason. Little do you know, he's feeling the same way.

Not started yet...

Yeosang – Academic Rival, Accidental Crush

Enemies to lovers

Yeosang was determined to beat you at everything. Until he realized the only thing he wanted more than victory—was you.

Not started yet...

San – Stage Fright

Co-stars in school play to lovers

He’s the king of flirtation, the school’s biggest heartbreaker. But when it’s just the two of you under the stage lights, you see the one thing he’s truly afraid of—falling for you.

Not started yet...

Wooyoung – More Than Friends, Less Than Strangers

Best friends to lovers

Wooyoung has always been your playful best friend. But lately, his teasing feels different. When did your best friend become your biggest distraction?

Not started yet...

Jongho – Unspoken Notes

Classmates to lovers

Jongho is younger, stronger, and completely out of reach. Or at least, that’s what you thought—until you caught him singing your favorite song when he thought no one was listening.

Not started yet...

[yunholic-jongholic]

Love In a Divorce [Part 3] | C.JH x Reader

SUMMARY | In a strained 10-year marriage, you and your husband decide to get a divorce due to growing tensions. While meeting with your divorce attorney, you unexpectedly develop feelings for him. As the divorce process unfolds, you find yourself in an intimate relationship with the attorney, complicating the situation as you navigate your separation from your ex-husband.

PAIRINGS | Jongho x Fem!Reader

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MINORS DNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | NSFW, SMUT, Explicit Content, Drinking, Unprotected Sex (Don't do that...), Orgasm, Dirty Talk, Creampie (I might miss some... Sorry If I do)

WORD COUNT | 4.3k

AUTHOR NOTE | This is the 3rd part of the story! So far if you haven't read part 1 or 2. Please do so! This is where the chapters get steamy... hehe. Also, there is officially 5 chapters. I am also already working on a 4-chapter Jongho story as this might be posted before the first chapter of that one comes out. But this is officially 3/5 chapters. If you want to join the tag list, please let me know! (either commenting, asking me, etc.)

TAG LIST | @blackandgreenandblue @mingisleftnipple

•

The next morning, you woke up earlier than expected, the soft light of dawn creeping through the blinds. A slight headache lingered from the night before, but nothing too overwhelming. You stretched, feeling the comforting weight of Jongho’s oversized sweatshirt still wrapped around you, its familiar scent grounding you for a moment.

Pushing yourself out of bed, you made your way to the bathroom, splashing cool water on your face, hoping to shake off the remnants of sleep and the haziness from the drinks. The refreshing sensation helped, though your mind remained tangled in lingering thoughts.

You quietly stepped out of the guest room, the house still peaceful and silent. Moving into the living room, you sank into the same spot on the sofa where you’d sat the night before, pulling your knees up slightly as you gazed around. The space felt even cozier in the morning light, with soft shadows dancing across the walls.

Without meaning to, your thoughts drifted aimlessly to Jongho. You imagined what it would be like if this wasn’t just a temporary refuge—if you lived here, not as a guest, but as part of something more. The thought of sharing quiet mornings, the easy comfort of simple routines, and the warmth of companionship crept into your mind. You could picture him casually walking out of his room, ruffling his hair, offering you coffee with that calm, steady presence that always made you feel at ease.

You gave your head a small shake, trying to push the thought away, but it clung to you—warm and persistent, like a flickering ember that refused to burn out. Hoping to distract yourself, you got up and made your way to the kitchen, deciding to cook breakfast. Hopefully, Jongho won’t mind, you thought as you began gathering ingredients, focusing on the simple motions to clear your head.

As the scent of food started to fill the air, you heard soft footsteps coming from the main bedroom. Turning slightly, you saw Jongho emerging, dressed in comfortable sweats, a plain white t-shirt, and slippers. His hair was tousled, fluffy and messy from sleep, giving him a relaxed, effortlessly endearing look.

For a brief second, your heart did that thing again—that quiet flutter you couldn’t quite ignore. But you quickly turned your attention back to the stove, pretending the warmth rising in your chest was just from the heat of cooking.

"Good morning, Y/N," Jongho greeted warmly as he walked closer, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You glanced over your shoulder, returning his smile with one of your own. "Good morning," you replied, feeling that familiar, subtle warmth in your chest.

Jongho paused for a moment, watching you move around the kitchen. "Do you need any help with breakfast?" he offered, his tone light and genuine. You shook your head with a smile. "Nope, I’ve got it covered," you assured him, focusing on flipping something in the pan.

He nodded and moved toward the counter, reaching for the coffee pot. As he filled it with water and prepared to brew, he glanced back at you. "Do you drink coffee?" he asked casually, his voice still carrying that early-morning softness.

"Yes, I do." you replied, your smile brightening a little more. Jongho gave a small, satisfied nod and started making an extra cup just for you, the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee soon blending with the warm scent of breakfast filling the space. The simple, quiet routine felt easy.

"Do you put creamer or sugar in your coffee? Or are you like me and drink it straight?" Jongho asked, handing you a freshly poured cup of coffee. In return, you passed him a plate of breakfast, the easy exchange feeling natural.

You took the cup, grinning as you replied, "You’re crazy for liking it straight up. I prefer both—creamer and sugar," you teased, letting out a soft giggle.

Jongho scrunched his eyebrows and wrinkled his nose dramatically at your response, feigning offense. "You’re the crazy one!" he shot back, his voice playful and light.

The two of you burst into laughter, the warmth of the morning mingling with the scent of coffee and the comfort of simple, effortless banter. It felt easy, like the kind of moment you’d want to tuck away and remember. You felt your heart warm up at the moment you were both sharing wishing this could last forever.

"I need to get to work," Jongho said with a sigh, his voice carrying a hint of exhaustion. "You can stay if you want, but I won’t be home until late tonight. I’ve got to handle some paperwork and file a divorce for a couple this afternoon…" His shoulders slumped slightly, the stress evident in his tone.

You looked up at him, your gaze soft and filled with quiet reassurance. "Hey, cheer up," you said gently, your voice calm and comforting.

Reaching for a sticky note and a pen nearby, you scribbled down your number and handed it to him. "You’ll be okay. And if you need someone to talk to, here—just text or call me anytime."

Jongho took the note, a small, appreciative smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he saved your number into his phone.

"Also," you added, glancing down for a moment, "I’ll probably head out this afternoon. I don’t want to overstay and hoard your space."

But Jongho shook his head firmly, his expression warm and sincere. "You’re not hoarding anything. Stay as long as you want," he insisted, his words carrying more weight than just hospitality. There was something comforting about the way he said it—like he genuinely meant it, like he wanted you there, which made you flustered.

"If you’re okay with it…" you muttered softly under your breath, your fingers lightly brushing the edge of your coffee cup.

Jongho gave a small nod, his expression warm and reassuring before he disappeared down the hall to get dressed for work. You stayed behind, gathering the dishes and tidying up the kitchen, the simple routine helping to settle your thoughts.

Not long after, you heard the sound of his footsteps returning, quicker this time. You turned just in time to see him rushing out, dressed sharply in a well-fitted suit, his tie slightly loosened as if he’d just thrown it on. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air, a clean, crisp fragrance that matched him perfectly.

"Have a good day!" you called after him, your voice soft but sincere as he grabbed his keys and hurried out the door with a quick wave and a grateful smile.

The house grew quiet again, the silence settling around you like a gentle blanket. You made your way to the sofa, grabbing the remote and flipping on the TV, hoping the background noise would distract you from the thoughts swirling in your mind. But even as the screen lit up, your mind wandered back to Jongho—the warmth in his voice, the way his smile reached his eyes, and the unexpected comfort of simply being in his space.

After a while, you picked up your phone, aimlessly scrolling through social media to distract yourself from the lingering thoughts in your mind. But your heart sank the moment you opened your messages—there were new texts from your husband.

Curiosity turned to dread as you opened them, only to be met with photos he had sent. Your belongings—clothes, personal items, even sentimental things—were piled carelessly in the garbage. The sight hit you like a punch to the chest, a hollow ache settling deep in your stomach.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you stared at the images, the harsh reality sinking in. He hadn’t just thrown away your things; he’d sent the photos deliberately, as if to provoke a reaction, to remind you of the control he still thought he had over you.

A mix of emotions flooded through you—shock, sadness, and anger tangled together. The warmth and comfort you’d felt just an hour ago were replaced by a crushing weight. But beneath it all, a small, stubborn flame of determination flickered. This is exactly why I’m doing this, you thought, holding onto that fragile thread of strength as you took a deep, shaky breath. You slammed your phone onto the sofa and went to wash your face again.

"You are stronger than this. Don’t let that man control your life anymore," you whispered to yourself, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and determination. Your fists clenched tightly at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to drown out the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You found yourself pacing in circles in the bathroom, the confined space amplifying the restless energy building inside. Your chest felt tight, your breathing shallow, the urge to collapse onto the cold floor and let the tears fall pressing heavily against you. But you didn’t. You fought it.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you forced yourself out of the bathroom, walking slowly around Jongho’s apartment. Each step felt like a small victory against the weight trying to pull you down. You ran your fingers along the edges of the furniture, grounding yourself in the quiet, unfamiliar space that somehow felt safer than your own home.

Your eyes drifted toward the main bedroom door, your heart pounding harder. The urge to go inside, to seek comfort in the presence of someone who made you feel seen, was strong. You got closer to where you had was over the doorknob. You decided not to open feeling like it was invading privacy. You went back to the guest room to sleep your emotions off.

As the evening stretched on, the soft glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the room, you found yourself glancing at the clock more frequently. It was nearing 8 PM, and you knew Jongho would be home soon. The thought brought an unexpected sense of relief, a comfort you hadn’t realized you’d been craving all day.

Suddenly, you heard the distant sound of a car door shutting. Your heart gave a small, involuntary flutter—you instinctively knew it was Jongho. The familiar noise grounded you, pulling you from the spiral of thoughts that had occupied your mind since the morning.

You shuffled slightly on the sofa, straightening up as if to appear less restless. Your phone was still in your hands, playing funny videos, the sound of laughter from the clips filling the otherwise quiet space. But your focus wasn’t really on the screen anymore.

Footsteps approached the door, steady and familiar. You found yourself holding your breath for a moment, the tension in your chest easing slightly just knowing he was back. Jongho walked in smiling at you seeing you cozied up on the sofa. He took his coat off again glancing softly at you walking towards you sitting down beside you.

"How was work?" you asked, your voice soft but curious as Jongho stepped through the door.

He let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he set a stack of folders down on the coffee table. "Not well. It’s stressful, but that’s the job—helping couples out of strained marriages," he replied, his tone weary yet laced with a sense of quiet acceptance.

You watched him for a moment, noticing the subtle tension in his posture, the weight of the day still clinging to him.

"I’m going to make a drink," he said, heading toward the kitchen with a tired hum. "Do you want anything?" His voice was casual, but there was something comforting in the simplicity of his offer, like he was trying to create a small moment of normalcy after a long, draining day. You shrug telling him to surprise you since you trust him after all.

Jongho returned from the kitchen, carrying two drinks. He handed one to you before settling down beside you on the sofa, the quiet comfort of his presence filling the space. You took a small sip, the coolness of the drink grounding you as you snuck a glance at him. He took a swig of his, his posture slightly relaxed, but his eyes remained sharp, attentive.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his voice low and genuine.

You hesitated for a moment, the words catching in your throat before spilling out in a shaky breath. "Uhmm… I don’t think I can go home anymore," you whispered, hugging your knees to your chest as if trying to make yourself smaller. "My husband threw all my stuff away, and I have no idea what to do in this situation..."

Jongho’s expression shifted immediately, his jaw tightening, the warmth in his eyes replaced by a flicker of anger. You could tell it pissed him off—not just the situation, but the fact that someone had treated you this way.

"Do you have the photos?" he asked, his voice firmer now, layered with a quiet intensity.

You nodded silently, pulling out your phone with trembling fingers. As you scrolled through your messages and handed the phone to him, his eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line as he stared at the images. The tension in the room grew heavier, but this time it wasn’t yours to carry alone. Jongho was right there, holding some of it with you. He got up and you heard his tone change.

"I’m going to settle this between him and me," Jongho muttered, his jaw clenched, fists tightening with visible frustration. The sharp edge in his voice sent a jolt of fear through you, your eyes widening instinctively.

Without thinking, you shot up from the sofa, quickly reaching for his arm, your touch soft but urgent as you tried to anchor him. "No," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly, filled with both fear and pleading.

His tense posture didn’t ease right away, and it made your heart race even more. "This isn’t professional of you, Jongho," you continued, your voice steadying as you tried to regain control of the moment. "Trust me, I’ll be okay. I just… I just need some time to stay here, to figure things out."

You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, afraid of how fierce and unfamiliar he looked in that moment. Your gaze drifted toward the floor, searching for the calm you’d felt earlier.

"Please," you whispered softly, finally finding the courage to meet his gaze again. "Promise me you won’t cause any harm. Just… stay here with me. Support me. Help me get through this divorce. That’s all I need from you right now."

The words hung heavy between you, the tension slowly ebbing as Jongho’s expression softened. His fists loosened, and he took a deep breath, his shoulders dropping slightly. You could see the conflict in his eyes—his desire to protect you battling against the boundaries he needed to keep as your support.

"I promise, Y/N," Jongho whispered softly, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the room moments ago. He reached for his drink, taking a deep gulp, almost as if trying to wash down the lingering frustration.

You watched him, your heart racing—not from fear this time, but something different, something you couldn’t quite explain. Your eyes met his, and for a brief second, the world felt quiet, like the space between you had shifted. His gaze was intense, not with anger now, but with something deeper, something unspoken.

Your cheeks grew warm, the heat spreading slowly, not just from embarrassment but from the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of the room. You felt your heart thudding softly against your chest, the air suddenly heavier.

"I hate my husband..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the weight of those words felt enormous. You weren’t sure if it was the drinks, the vulnerability, or the way Jongho’s eyes held yours like he was seeing right through you—but your body felt like it was on fire, emotions tangled in a way you couldn’t quite untangle.

Jongho remained silent at first, his gaze locked with yours, his expression softening flickered in his eyes—a blend of understanding, sorrow, and perhaps… something more. Without thinking, driven by the heat of the moment, you leaned in and gently pressed your lips to his.

He stiffened slightly, caught off guard, but didn’t pull away. Instead, after a heartbeat’s hesitation, he responded, deepening the kiss with a tenderness that made your heart race. Your arms found their way around each other, holding on as if the world outside didn’t exist.

You could taste the faint bitterness of alcohol on his breath, but it didn’t matter. There was something sweet beneath it—raw, real, and intoxicating in its own way. And you wanted more. Craved it. Needed it. Jongho lifted you up and took you to the main bedroom. You knew this was going to end up the way you imagined it for the last day.

Jongho pressed another feathery kiss on your lips before lifting your(his) sweatshirt up exposing your bare chest. He realizes you aren't wearing a bra, and you hear his breathing hitch unexpected from his own and your actions. Jongho kisses you more this time getting heated and sloppy. You unbutton his shirt sliding it off his arms, caressing them as your pull his sleeves off.

"I need you Jongho.." you whisper almost moaning his name. He immediately takes off his pants and pulls your(his) shorts off of you exposing both of your bare-naked bodies.

"Do you want me to use a condom?" Jongho asks but you immediately respond. "I am on the pill. and I am clean." You respond to him.

He nods and tells you he is also clean, soon you felt his palms grab ahold of your waist as he slowly presses the tip of his cock in between your folds. You look deeply into his eyes immediately throwing your head back in pleasure, moaning as he pushes himself in.

"Fuck!" You moan out. Jongho groans at the feeling of your insides wrapping firmly around his cock. He huffs out cursing a bit. You felt waves of pleasure rush through your insides and stomach as he starts moving. You feel completely dizzy from the over pleasured feeling. Jongho starts moving gripping your waist tightly to hold you still.

"You feel so amazing..." You moan slurring your words already feeling drunk off of sex. He thrusts into you as you grip his arms that are on your waist holding you.

"Jongho!" You cry out as he leans down towards you resting one hand over your neck and the other gripping the sheets as he thrusts in and out of you getting rougher with each move.

"Y/N... Fuck..." he curses looking deeply into your eyes pounding into you. "You drive me crazy... You are so fucking beautiful..." he curses. You had your legs wrapped around his waist letting him fuck you as if you were only there for that reason. But little did you know he wanted you as much as you wanted him. Jongho pressed his lips against yours giving you a passionate make out session as he kept moving.

"I just want you..." you moan helplessly looking softly yet deeply aroused in his eyes. You caressed his arms looking lovingly into his eyes. He smirked at your response kissing you lovingly. You moaned into the kisses he was giving you. You soon felt him thrust into a certain spot that made you completely crazy causing you to moan louder and beg for him to keep going.

Throwing your head into the pillows nearly drooling as your mouth stayed open from your loud moans, Jongho rammed into you harder interlocking your fingers with his pressing them over your head. You were fully driven to the edge, and you heard him beg you to cum alongside with him.

"Cum with me Y/N..." he groaned as you dug one hand deep into his palm and the other one deep into his back. You soon were both a moaning mess as you both came.

You were now panting and whining at the feeling of his hot liquid ooze out of your wet sopping cunt. He pulled out and looked down at you panting. Sweat caused his hair stick to his forehead. It was messy and you saw the sweat glistening on his sculpted arms and body. You were slightly turned on even more but was too tired to do another round.

Jongho gently pulled away, his breathing slightly uneven as he looked into your eyes, a mix of emotions flickering behind his gaze. Without saying a word, he stood up and reached for your hand, helping you to your feet with a tenderness that made your heart ache in the best way.

Silently, he guided you to the bathroom, his touch lingering just enough to send a soft warmth through you. Once inside, he opened a cabinet, pulling out a fresh set of clean clothes—an oversized t-shirt and a pair of comfortable shorts. He placed them neatly on the sink, his fingers brushing against the fabric for a moment before he turned to face you.

"You can take a shower. It’ll help you feel better," he said softly, his voice filled with quiet care.

Then, without lingering, he gave you a small nod and stepped out, gently closing the door behind him to give you privacy. You stood there for a moment, staring at the door, your heart still racing. The bathroom was filled with the faint scent of his cologne, mixed with the warmth of the space.

You turned on the shower, letting the sound of the running water soothe the swirl of thoughts in your mind. As you undressed and stepped under the warm stream, you felt the tension slowly start to melt away, both from your body and your heart. The clean clothes on the sink waited for you like a quiet promise of comfort, wrapped in the simplicity of Jongho’s silent, steady presence.

You got out and got dressed leaving to go to the guest room, but you hear Jongho stop you. "Do you want to sleep with me?" Jongho asks face flustered as he got his own clothes ready to take a shower. You felt your face heat up and accepted the offer by lying down on the bed as he left to the bathroom to take a shower himself. You laid on the bed sinking in immediately as you fell asleep peacefully.

The next morning, you slowly woke up, the soft glow of early sunlight seeping through the curtains. For a moment, you were disoriented, caught between the haze of sleep and the warmth cocooning you. Then you felt it—strong, steady arms wrapped around you, pulling you gently into a secure embrace.

Turning your head slightly, your eyes met the peaceful sight of Jongho, still fast asleep. His face was relaxed, the usual tension from work and life smoothed away, his features softened by the quiet serenity of rest. His breath was slow and even, warm against the back of your neck, grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

His arm rested loosely around your waist, fingers lightly brushing against the fabric of the borrowed shirt you wore. The rise and fall of his chest against your back were soothing, and for a brief moment, everything felt simple—no chaos, no fear, just the comfort of his presence.

You stayed still, not wanting to disturb him, your heart caught somewhere between the warmth of the moment and the weight of everything that had led to it. Despite the uncertainty of what came next, in that quiet morning light, wrapped in Jongho’s arms, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time safe. You knew you had to get up and go to work but you just wanted to stay in bed longer curled up with Jongho.

After a few quiet minutes, you felt Jongho begin to stir. His arm shifted slightly as he woke, lifting it instinctively without realizing he had been holding you. Blinking against the soft morning light, he looked a bit disoriented, his face relaxed with the remnants of sleep.

You turned your head toward him, a gentle smile spreading across your face as your eyes met his.

"Good morning," you whispered softly, your voice filled with warmth and a hint of tenderness.

Jongho’s sleepy eyes met yours, still heavy with sleep. He didn’t say much, just let out a soft hum in response, his lips curling into a faint, sleepy smile. The simplicity of the moment, wrapped in the quiet comfort of just being there with him.

You slowly got up from the bed, careful not to disturb Jongho as he drifted back into a light sleep. The warmth of his presence lingered even after you left his side, wrapping around you like an invisible comfort. You got dressed, going through the familiar motions of your morning routine, though everything felt slightly different—lighter somehow.

As you stepped out the door and headed to work, the usual heaviness settled over you, that familiar dread of facing the day. But today, it wasn’t as overwhelming. Amidst the stress and routine, your mind kept drifting back to Jongho—his sleepy smile, the warmth of his arms around you, and the quiet comfort of just being near him.

For once, it wasn’t the thought of going home that weighed you down. It was the thought of returning to him that pulled you through the day. The idea of walking through his door, seeing his face, hearing his voice—that became the small, bright thread you held onto, hoping it would lead you to something better. Something real.

•

AUTHOR NOTE | Hope you all enjoyed! I will be updating this one a lot since I already have like 4/5 chapters done, just waiting for my editor to go through and make changes :)

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

For any skeletons who play video games, S/O friend encourages them to play a 1-player horror game. Though S/O is willing to try it, they warn the skeletons ahead of time that because the horror game gives you the option to hide if the killer happens to see u S/O will hide and never come out, S/O admits there a scardy cat when it comes to horror games.

It just takes a little encougment to get S/O to leave the room and continue with the game... even though as soon as they see a glimpse of the killer/ hear the killer or the music changes, they immediately go back to hiding... the killer has to be waiting to ambush them as soon as they get out they just know it.

Would skeletons help carry S/O through the game? Are they both getting jumpscared? Would skeletons take over while S/O watches them play? How will it go?

Undertale Sans - He would take over... If watching you having the scare of your life wasn't that funny. Sans is pretty much watching you play with a bucket of popcorn, really entertained right now. He's mostly watching you and not the TV because your reactions are hilarious. He can't get over your face every time you get jumpscared.

Undertale Papyrus - Papyrus is also focused on the game, but despite his best intentions, he's definitely not helping. Papyrus thinks the game is too easy and keeps trying to convince you the puzzles are way harder than what they're supposed to be, which leads to you running in circles again and again instead of pushing a damn lever. You're both getting jumpscare a hundred times, but Papyrus refuses to take the controller as he insists you're the one who needs to solve the puzzle because it's not fun otherwise. He also won't accept you cowarding away as an answer. You just want to curl up and cry.

Underswap Sans - Blue loves horror games, they're really exciting. Unfortunately, he also loves watching you get miserable every time you get jumpscared... And he's jumpscaring you as well. He can't help it. Every time he sees you extremely tense, he lunges at you, making you scream in fear. Bonus point when it happens at the same time as the monster on the screen. He can't get bored of this. You hate him so much right now.

Underswap Papyrus - Honey is even more terrified than you are. When you're not fast enough to hide, he takes the controller from your hands and runs into the nearest closet himself lmao. You're stressing him out. His soul can't take that game for much longer! And damn he was right. At the first jumpscare, he screams at the top of his lungs then passes out on your lap lol. Good luck to move now.

Underfell Sans - He thinks you're exaggerating a lot and that the game is not that scary. That's when you say that if it's such a smartass, he's the one who should play. As usual, Red is all big mouth and everything until he actually has to do the things. Taunting is one thing, playing for real is a second one. Oh, he's going to do it, because he's no chicken, but you can see him get paler and paler by the second. At the first jumpscare, the controller flies through the TV and Red jumps to hide behind the couch, all puffed up like a scared cat. You can't stop laughing. Well. He's pouting now.

Underfell Papyrus - Edge doesn't understand what's the big deal. It's just a game. It's not real? It's not even that scary. He's judging you so hard, wondering what happened in your life to not make the difference between fiction and reality. After an hour, he's tired of watching you struggle, sighs loudly, takes the controller from your hands, and finishes the game in half an hour. See? That's not that complicated. Why are you overreacting like that?

Horrortale Sans - He's no help. Watching your character run away on screen, it's... *yawns* tiring... him... up. After ten minutes you feel a big weight on your shoulder as Oak collapses on you and falls asleep. No jumpscare or scream will wake him up. He's too far gone. You feel so lonely right now.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's frustrated that you keep hiding. He wants to know what's next in the story! You're so slow he's shaking! Please, for the love of Asgore, let him play. He can't stand seeing you hiding every two minutes or so, or passing in front of important objects without seeing them. PLEASE. HE BEGS YOU. FOCUS. You didn't know Willow could be that affected by a video game, that's kind of funny.

Swapfell Sans - Ah, he loves supernatural shit. No, he doesn't! You can see him jump even more than you do every time something scary happens, and that's the second time he almost impale the TV with a bone. He's doing his best to not look affected by what's going on, but that's all a facade. It's actually too much for him after an hour and he leaves to do something else lol. That night, you notice he locked the door of your room and put the wardrobe in front of it, just in case.

Swapfell Papyrus - You swear he's running straight into the killer to see you get jumpscared. Rus is not scared at all, he thinks that's hilarious how scared you are and he can't help but ruin the game for you either by making funny comments during the scary moments or scaring you on purpose when you give him the controller. He loves gaming with you. You two should do that more often.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Wine doesn't want to play because he thinks it's too cliche the monster following you is a monster. That game is making fun of monsters and it's not even realistic. Everyone knows monsters can hear well and so hiding in closets won't save you. To prove it to you, later that day, he jumpscares you by jumping out of a closet, making you scream in terror. ... Wait, you didn't hear him? Are humans stupid??? How did you survive for this long without any survival instinct? That seems ridiculous.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Coffee is playing the same way you are, except that when he gets jumpscared, he drops the controller and refuses to play again before at least two hours lol. That's two days now you're in the same corridor. You can't move on because you have to sneak behind the killer and none of you want to do it. You end up giving up that game and go to play Mario Kart instead lol.

[moeitsu]

The Dark Tide Siren!Arthur Morgan x Reader Modern AU Ch 7 - Bound Beneath a Sirens Song Summary: With a storm looming on the horizon, the air crackles with an undeniable energy—every moment, every touch is charged like lightning waiting to strike. When Arthur invites you to take a swim, how could you possibly refuse? After all, it’s just a swim... what harm could come from that? wc: 11k tw: none! Swim Back! ↞ ﹏𓊝﹏ ↠ Sail Ahead!

AN: Longer chapter, got a little carried away. But reader finally gets to kissy on her fishy :3 (also like 80% of this takes place underwater, so pls don’t read too much into the logic of it)

tag list: @photo1030 @v3lv3tf0x @ireallyhonestlydontcare @shygamergirl01 @cloudywithachanceofcrisis @sevikaspuertoricanwife @abducted-cowz @ilovethatforyousworld @gatodebiquini @onyxlune @bomdada

I was searching for trouble and I knew it

The pull toward him was undeniable, like the tide dragging me into deeper waters, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight it. There were a thousand reasons why I should pack up my things and head home, but none of them were strong enough to make me leave. Every day, his voice echoed in the back of my mind, a secret siren song ringing in my ears, impossible to ignore.

I told myself this was an adventure—something new, something extraordinary. When in my life would I ever experience something like this again? But deep down, I knew it was more than that. He wasn’t just some fascinating creature to be studied, he was a person. A complicated, intriguing, wonderful person who had been through hell and somehow still found the strength to trust. Over the past week, I had watched him transform before my eyes, shedding his fear and anger like an old skin. Seeing that change unfold lit something warm and dangerous in my chest.

I knew I was going down with this ship, but I refused to raise the white flag in surrender. 

Not when he had come so far. Not when I had seen the way his shoulders relaxed when he listened to Mary-Beth ramble about her favorite books, or how he watched Tilly’s hands with quiet fascination as she scribbled down notes and hypotheses, pausing only to tap her pen against her lip in thought. He was still wary of the men, his trust slower to form, but he was trying. And that effort—it meant everything.

Tilly pestered him with inquisitive, practical questions, always seeking to unravel the mysteries of his existence. She wanted to know what he remembered about his mother, about his people, about the depths of the ocean he had never been free to explore. She wanted to see his lights up close, to hear the cadence of his native tongue, to piece together the puzzle of his biology with a scientific curiosity. At first, Arthur was hesitant, his answers clipped, wary. But I was always there with them, and at times, it felt like he looked to me for permission. A gentle smile, a small nod, and his face would soften just slightly, his bioluminescence flickering to life.

It was as if I was telling him, Go ahead. You’re safe to be yourself here.

Mary-Beth, on the other hand, was smitten with his personality. She had a habit of chatting his ear off, switching from one topic to another with the ease of someone who never ran out of things to say. She talked about her love for writing, about her life back at college, and the not-so-secret crush she had on a certain fisherman at the facility. And Arthur—he listened. Really listened. He hung onto every word, his curiosity evident in the way he tilted his head, the way he asked his own questions. It was clear that as much as we were fascinated by him, he was just as eager to understand us.

And for the first time in his life, he was free to learn without the shadow of pain and fear looming over him.

It was the end of the week. The summer sun was sinking low in the sky, bathing the outdoor section of Arthur’s tank in molten gold. The facility had closed to the public not too long ago, and the girls would need to head home soon. The warm eastern wind carried the briny scent of the ocean, filling my lungs with something grounding, something familiar.

I, for one, did not plan on leaving with them.

There was a part of me that longed to dive into the unknown. To explore someone who, in ways I couldn’t yet explain, felt just a little bit like me. Every day, the pull had grown stronger, the ache sharper. I wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or something more—but tonight, I could no longer ignore it.

Mary-Beth was carefully braiding a section of Arthur’s sandy blond hair, her fingers moving with practiced ease as she wove small strands together. Arthur sat comfortably with his elbows resting on the platform, arms crossed as his long tail floated lazily in the water, the gentle sway of it almost hypnotic. Tilly, stretching her legs with a sigh, checked the time before nudging Mary-Beth.

“We better get moving. My mom doesn’t like when I’m late for dinner.”

Mary-Beth groaned dramatically, her lips forming an exaggerated pout. “Oh, come on, Tilly. It’s Friday! We’re young adults—we should be spending our weekends staying out late, having fun! Can’t we stay with Arthur a little longer?”

“Ouch, guess I’m just chopped liver,” I muttered with a laugh, shaking my head. Though, in truth, I didn’t really mind that they preferred Arthur’s company. Because it meant I got to spend time with him too.

Arthur chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through his chest as he gave them a reassuring smile. “It’s not like I’ll be going anywhere,” he said, amusement dancing in his glowing blue eyes. “We can pick up where we left off when you girls come back. Go home, get some rest—study up on those science books so you can teach this old fool some new tricks.” He added a playful wink, making Mary-Beth giggle as she gathered her things.

I stood as they did, walking them to the door, dragging my feet ever so slightly. The anticipation in my chest was a restless thing.

And then, finally—the door shut behind them with a heavy thud. Their footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing softer until they disappeared completely.

And just like that, it was just us.

Arthur and I.

This was what I had been waiting for all week—just a moment alone with him, without the others, without distraction. But now that it was here, now that the opportunity had fallen right into my lap, I wasn’t exactly sure what to do with myself.

I wanted to talk to him, to ask him questions, to know him in ways no one else had. But I had already spent every day listening to his stories, absorbing the pieces of himself he was willing to share with the others. And yet, there were still so many things I desired to know. More personal, more intimate details about his life that I had no business prying into.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I barely registered the way Arthur tilted his head at me, eyes searching mine.

“You alright, darlin’?”

The smooth timbre of his voice pulled me back to the present, washing over me like the tide pulling in.

I blinked, offering a small smile. “Yeah, I was just thinking.” I hesitated for half a second before adding, “Mind if I hang out for a bit?”

His eyes lit up, and it wasn’t just the setting sun catching in the water.

“Sure,” he said, shifting slightly as he regarded me. “This ain’t gonna get you in trouble, though, right?”

He had a point. There was no reason for me to stay after hours. But surely, I wasn’t breaking any rules. Not really.

I smirked. “Only if I get caught.”

Arthur huffed out a laugh, the sound warm and familiar, as if we had known each other for years instead of days. I realized just how much I needed to know him. Not as some scientific marvel, not as a myth brought to life.

But as Arthur.

As I moved toward the edge of the ledge, letting my legs dangle in the water, Arthur followed without hesitation. It was as if we were tethered by some invisible thread, an unspoken pull drawing us together. He stopped just before reaching me, lingering in that space between caution and longing, his hesitation palpable. I could see the gears turning in his mind—how close is too close?

I reached out, offering my hand in a silent invitation. And when he took it, I felt the warmth of his palm against mine despite the coolness of the water. He pressed himself against my legs, his chest firm and solid, his heartbeat strong beneath my skin. Wet arms came to rest on my thighs, soaking through my shorts, but I barely noticed. The moment was too charged, too fragile, as his gills fluttered against my legs, I parted them slightly as if breathing him into my embrace.

He was so close now. Close enough that I could study every detail of his face—the faint scar hidden beneath his short beard, the dimple at the base of his nose, the way his lashes curled like delicate brushstrokes. Freckles dusted his cheeks and shoulders like constellations etched into his skin, mapping stories I would never fully know. His second eyelids, faint but visible, reflected the soft light filtering through the water, a feature evolved to protect his irises, and yet, he still looked at me with such openness. His lips were smooth, and when he parted them, I caught the glint of sharp teeth, a stark contrast to the tenderness in his gaze.

Content had settled over his handsome rugged features. 

“Arthur.” His name slipped from my lips, quiet but sincere. And before I could stop myself, the question that had been lodged in my heart finally surfaced. “Are you happy here?”

I felt him tense, his body stilling against mine. He took a slow, measured breath, but there was no avoidance in his gaze, no flicker of hesitation. Only the truth.

“Happy is... a foreign word to me,” he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of a lifetime of uncertainty. “I like it here, but it’s not exactly what I’d call… home.”

The word sounded strange coming from him, like he was tasting it for the first time, unsure of its meaning. My chest ached.

“It’s a bit lonely when you’re all workin’,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “Quiet. But it’s a nice feelin’, like I can just be.” He shrugged, as if that small solace was enough, as if it didn’t matter.

A sigh escaped my throat before I could swallow it. “I’m sorry, Arthur, I wish there—”

“Don’t,” he cut in, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, sweetheart. You’ve given me more freedom than I’ve ever tasted in my whole miserable life.”

I smiled at that, but it was a poor attempt to mask the tightness in my chest. I wanted to do more for him. I wanted to erase every wound, every scar of his past. Show him true happiness, not just some artificial slice of freedom. 

“Besides,” a slow, knowing grin tugged at his lips, revealing more of those sharp teeth. “If you had never brought me here, I never would’ve met you.”

His hand—webbed, calloused, yet impossibly gentle—lifted to my face, his fingertips tracing the curve of my cheek with aching reverence. Like he was afraid I might dissolve beneath his touch, fade into the air like seafoam.

“And I’m happy when I’m with you.”

The words settled between us, sinking into my bones, heavy and undeniable. I should have said something back. Should have acknowledged what was happening between us.

But I couldn’t. Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to pull myself away.

Arthur held my gaze for what felt like an eternity, a storm of emotions swirling between us like the eye of a cyclone—hot and cold currents colliding, the pressure building, pulling us into a dance neither of us dared to break free from. It was unspoken, this tether between us, but I felt it with every pounding heartbeat, with every inch that closed between our bodies.

“Would you swim with me, my girl?”

My breath caught. The words barely registered, not because I hadn’t heard them, but because of the way he said them.

My girl.

It rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, like it was already a truth neither of us had acknowledged yet. My stomach twisted, and a rush of warmth bloomed across my cheeks under the golden light of the setting sun. Arthur watched me, eyes shimmering with mischief, but there was something else there too—something deeper, something that sent a shiver down my spine.

“S-swim?” I squeaked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Arthur chuckled, the sound low and rich, like I had just recoiled from something ridiculous—like he had asked me to eat a raw sea urchin instead of simply taking a swim. “Yeah. If you can ignore the sharks and stingrays, it’s practically paradise,” he teased, tugging at my hands as if I might just leap in fully clothed without a second thought.

The meaning of his request finally sank in. My pulse kicked up a notch. This wasn’t what I had planned when I stayed behind with him, wasn’t how I thought I’d fill my time. I had imagined more talking, maybe more of those easy laughs he shared with the girls. But this—this was something different. Something thrilling.

I’d be in the water with him. In his natural element.

A voice in the back of my head stirred, whispering a reminder of what Lenny had said about siren courtship. His bioluminescence, the purring, the gift-giving—he’s in mating season.

I shot those thoughts straight to hell.

This wasn’t about that. This was just swimming. Nothing more. Nothing dangerous. What harm could be done?

Right? Right. 

A grin broke across my face, excitement bubbling in my chest as I practically sprang to my feet.

“I’ll go change into my wetsuit.”

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

I bounded down the corridor, my heartbeat matching the quick, eager rhythm of my steps. Excitement thrummed in my veins, bubbling up inside me until it felt like I might burst. This is happening. I could barely contain myself, giddy at the thought of what was to come. To see Arthur as he was meant to be—in the water, in his element. To watch the way the water broke for him, how effortlessly he moved, commanding the space with just the flick of his powerful tail. The thought sent shivers down my spine, a thrill unlike anything I had ever known.

I was so lost in the fantasy that I didn’t notice the electrical closet door swinging open until I nearly barreled straight into a solid chest.

“Woah!”

Hands gripped my shoulders to steady me, and I blinked up to find John staring down at me, brows raised in surprise. “Hey, uhm—didn’t realize you were still here…you going for a swim or something?” His gaze flickered down to my wetsuit, to the towel in my hands, then toward the hallway that led to Arthur’s tank. His expression shifted, concern knitting his features. “Shit, is Arthur alright? Did something happen?”

I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. Just like John to assume the worst. He always played it cool, pretended not to give a shit, but deep down, I knew better. The fool had a heart bigger than his ego—not that he’d ever admit it.

“Arthur’s fine,” I assured him quickly. “I’m just… going for a little swim. That’s all.”

John’s eyebrows shot up, but before he could grill me on why exactly I was voluntarily diving into the water with a half-siren, I cut in.

“What are you still doing here, anyway? You hate working late on Fridays.”

He sighed, exhaustion lacing his tone as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Hosea asked me to check on the generators. Since we got that big storm coming this weekend.”

Right. The hurricane. I had been so wrapped up in Arthur, in my own tangled emotions, that I had almost forgotten.

“Oh, right. Hurricane Eliza.” I rocked back on my heels, clutching the towel to my chest, suddenly feeling exposed. “I heard she’s gonna be a real beast.” I tried not to sound uninterested, but all I really wanted to do was turn back to Arthur. 

John hummed in agreement, but his eyes lingered on me a beat too long, as if he could see straight through my flimsy attempt at nonchalance.

A quiet laugh rumbled from his chest. “Yeah, uh—I guess I’ll leave you to it then.”

He turned, heading back down the hallway, but not before shooting me that look. The one that said he wasn’t buying it.

“John! Uh…” I swallowed hard, nerves creeping back up my spine. Why did I feel like I was a child getting away with something? “Please keep this between us. I-I’m just—” I fumbled for the right words. Just what? Just going for a swim? Then why did it feel like I had been caught sneaking off to do something much more nefarious?

John smirked, dragging a finger across his lips like he was sealing them shut. “Your secret’s safe with me. Have fun with your shark boyfriend.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “He’s not—”

John was already strolling away, ignoring my rebuttal. “If he tries anything, I’ll gut his ass personally,” he called over his shoulder, his voice echoing down the corridor. 

I laughed, shaking my head. “Think I’ll take my chances, Marston. Seeing as you still can’t swim!”

Without turning around, he raised a middle finger in the air.

Grinning to myself, I clutched my towel a little tighter and turned toward the hallway that led to Arthur’s tank. My heart pounded for an entirely different reason now. This was finally happening.

The moment I stepped onto the platform, my heart clenched with a brief flicker of doubt. Would he still be as eager now that I was actually here? But before that worry could take root, the surface of the water broke, and Arthur emerged with effortless grace, resting his arms on the ledge like he had been waiting for me all night.

“Took you long enough,” he teased, his voice a low rumble beneath the gentle crashing of the waves beyond the facility. “Was startin’ to worry you changed your mind.”

I grinned, shaking my head as I tossed my towel onto a plastic chair. “Like I’d pass up this opportunity,” I mused, reaching for my flippers. “Spoke too soon about getting caught. Ran into John in the hallway.”

Arthur hummed in acknowledgment, but his attention was already elsewhere. I followed his gaze down to my feet, watching the way his expression softened with curiosity. Slowly, he reached out, his webbed fingers glistening under the golden light as they ghosted over my ankle.

I stilled as he lifted my foot slightly, his thumb brushing over the sharp ridge of ankle bone before gliding downward in a slow, deliberate motion. When the back of his claw traced up the arch of my foot, I couldn't help the quiet giggle that escaped me, my toes curling instinctively.

Arthur's eyes flicked up at the sound, his lips twitching with amusement before he focused back on my foot, turning it this way and that as if studying an artifact he couldn’t quite make sense of.

“Why do you wear these?” he asked, finally shifting his attention to the flipper I had yet to put on. He tapped the stiff rubber with his claw, brows furrowing.

I chuckled, slipping the other one on. “They’re flippers. I can’t swim like you do. My feet aren’t smooth or streamlined, and I don’t have the muscles like you.”

Arthur’s lips parted slightly as he mouthed the word to himself. “Flippers,” he repeated, testing the sound on his tongue before looking back at me. “So these make you more like me?”

His question sent a strange warmth through my chest. There was something so earnest in the way he asked, his fingers trailing along the length of the fin as if he were trying to understand what it meant for me to move through his world.

“Essentially, yes,” I murmured, a small smile playing at my lips. “They’ll help me keep up with you.”

Arthur let out an exaggerated snort, giving me a pointed look. “Darlin’, that’s a bold statement.”

Grinning, I kicked my foot out of the water, sending a spray into the air. He flinched slightly, watching the droplets rain down before glaring at the stiff black rubber with playful disdain.

“That’s just insulting.”

I laughed, adjusting the strap on my other flipper before sliding a pair of goggles over my forehead. Arthur cocked a brow, tilting his head as he eyed them.

“Ain’t even gonna ask,” he huffed, but then his tone shifted, growing more serious. “How long can you hold your breath?”

The change in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. The playful banter faded, replaced by something quieter—something deeper.

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the edge of the platform. How long could I hold my breath? I was about to dive into his world, a place where he was strong, fast, in control. The thought sent my pulse skittering, but I forced a steady breath, meeting his gaze head-on.

“Less than a minute,” I admitted, though I knew it was probably closer to thirty seconds.

Arthur took in the information with a slow nod, his ocean-blue gaze flickering downward to the depths of the tank. The water reflected against his skin in shifting ribbons of light, making him look even more otherworldly. “Just stay close to me, alright?”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

Pulling my goggles over my eyes and nose, I inhaled deeply, letting my lungs expand before slipping off the ledge. The cool water embraced me instantly, a rush of sensation flooding my senses as the world above blurred into nothingness.

And then, through the clearing bubbles, there he was.

Arthur moved—no, glided—with an effortless grace that no human could ever hope to match. The full arc of his powerful tail cut through the water like a blade, propelling him forward with a strength that sent ripples cascading outward. The bioluminescent blues and purples that traced his scales shimmered like stardust, catching the fractured light that filtered down from above. His tail fin, a broad, elegant half-moon, unfurled behind him with each movement, undulating like the slow, hypnotic pulse of a jellyfish. The way it rippled through the currents, fluid and weightless, was mesmerizing—a dance like the ocean itself was draped in silk.

For the first time, I was seeing him as he was meant to be. Free. Powerful. Impossible. A gateway into a world unknown. He belonged to nobody, and no man. 

His sandy blond hair drifted around his face in feathery strands, framing the rugged lines of his features, softening the sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones. His gills flexed slightly, expelling a faint trail of bubbles as he moved, blending into the swirling currents. And then there was his smile—devastating, knowing, teasing. It was the kind of smile that made the world tilt, that made my stomach tighten with something warm.

He belonged here, in the water, in the vastness. And yet, as his ocean-blue eyes met mine, glowing faintly beneath the surface, I couldn’t help but feel that, somehow, in this moment—he belonged with me, too.

Arthur reached for me, and without hesitation, I took his hand.

Webbed fingers curled around mine, warm even in the cold water, and with the smallest tug, he guided me deeper. The tank transformed before my eyes—the artificial world of rock formations and coral structures now seemed vast and infinite from this new perspective. Schools of fish darted past us in flashes of silver, weaving effortlessly through the currents.

But I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Arthur twisted effortlessly, rolling onto his back so he could watch me, his tail propelling him smoothly as I floated just above him. Watching me with that same toothy, teasing grin. 

I kicked my feet, feeling the resistance of the water as my flippers sliced through it, but it was nothing compared to the sheer power he held in every movement. His tail moved in slow, deliberate strokes, adjusting his speed with fluent precision, allowing me to drift above.

I suddenly wished I had a tail like his—to feel the strength coiling in my muscles, to move through the water with that same primal ease. To command the currents as if they were an extension of myself. But I was clumsy in comparison, merely paddling while he swam with the mastery of something born from the deep. And yet, he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he looked amused, watching me with a quiet adoration, like I was the marvel here—not him.

For the first time in my life, I felt truly weightless. Suspended in the water, drifting between reality and something almost dreamlike, I had never felt so free. Despite the vastness around us, Arthur was the only thing keeping me tethered.

Then my chest tightened. A sharp, familiar burn spread through my lungs. Shit. Has it been a minute already?

With my free hand, I pointed to the surface, signaling to Arthur that I needed air. But instead of guiding me upward, he pulled us deeper. My stomach dropped. A chill slithered down my spine as his grip on my hand remained firm. What is he doing?

I tugged, trying to free myself, but his hold only tightened. Panic began to set in, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. No… No, no, no! My limbs burned, my body screaming for oxygen. The water suddenly felt too thick, too heavy. It was crushing me, swallowing me whole. 

He shook his head.

A bolt of horror shot through me. No? What the fuck do you mean, NO?!

Was this some kind of sick game? Had I been a fool to trust him? My mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each one darker than the last. What if I had just made a terrible mistake? What if everything we shared had been a lie? What if Arthur wasn’t what I thought he was?

Was he going to kill me? Am I going to drown? 

Just as the last ounce of my strength gave way, just as I thought I was about to give in to the burning need to draw breath and fill my lungs with water, Arthur pulled me against his chest. I expected him to kick his tail sending us upward, to break the surface in a powerful burst. He had asked how long I could hold my breath, surely that wasn't to plan my demise in a timely fashion.  

But instead, he did something I never could have anticipated.

His hands came up to cradle my face, his touch gentle even as I writhed against him. His bioluminescent veins pulsed with soft light, a delicate glow between us. His eyes, deep and steady, locked onto mine, silently urging me to trust him. But my mind was blind with panic, lungs burning as they gave out. 

Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine.

A kiss? Now? My mind screamed at me to pull away, to fight, to swim for the surface before it was too late. I felt it crawling under my skin, a desperate need for air or I was going to die!

I gasped but instead of choking, instead of water rushing into my lungs—

I breathed.

A rush of oxygen filled my chest, sharp and startling, like drawing the first breath of life. Arthur's lips parted against mine, his tongue slipping past in a way that was less about hunger and more about necessity. He was giving me his breath, sharing something vital and instinctual, something so intimate it sent a shiver down my spine and ignited each of my nerves in white hot fire.

I inhaled, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I clung to him, taking in the air he offered me in desperate, greedy gulps. My lungs burned, but not from lack of oxygen—it was the lingering ache of panic, the rawness of fear ebbing away, replaced by something deeper. Something calming. 

Relief. Arthur never meant to let me drown. He was never going to harm me. I silently cursed myself for not trusting him. But this was something I never would have expected. 

The rhythm came naturally after a few moments. A slow, controlled exchange. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Arthur matched me, his chest expanding against mine, his gills flaring as he cycled the air between us. Drawing in enough breath for both our lungs. Somewhere in my frantic attempt to survive, my goggles had been pulled off, floating aimlessly somewhere behind me. 

Now, nothing separated us. No barrier, no confusion. Just the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his body as he held me in place. His breath kissing every pore. 

My arms wound around his neck instinctively, fingers tangling in his billowing hair. I could feel the powerful ripple of his muscles as he kept us suspended in the water, his tail moving in slow, effortless sweeps. His veins pulsed softly beneath his skin, casting an ethereal glow between us. It was mesmerizing, hypnotic even. 

I consumed him like a fire that devours, drawing him in deeper. Seizing his lifeforce. Claiming it as my own. Taking. 

The air he breathed into me was unlike anything I had ever tasted. It was liberating, pure—like petrichor. When the earth is warm with rain-soaked soil after a summer storm. Rich and electric and unmistakably him. It filled every aching part of me, chased away the fear, replaced it with something that left me dizzy.

This wasn’t just survival. This was something else entirely.

Arthur wasn’t just giving me air—he was threading himself into the very fabric of my being.

With every inhale, he poured into me like the tide rushing into a hollowed-out cave, filling the spaces I didn’t even realize were empty. A piece of him—vast, ancient, and arcane—flooded through my heart, echoing through its chambers, coursing through my veins in a heady, intoxicating rush. It curled into the hollows of my lungs, wove through the sinew of my muscles, and settled deep into my skin. Clinging to me like the saltwater after it dries.

It wasn’t just breath. It was him.

He invaded me, not with force, but with something far more meaningful—an offering, a communion. A sacrifice. Reaching inside me his presence wrapped around my very cells, touching every inch of me in ways I had never imagined. It was like swallowing starlight, like sinking into the depths of the ocean and becoming part of it, losing myself to something endless and infinite.

I felt the ocean’s pulse, a steady rhythm thrumming through me. It was life, boundless and eternal. And gods above, it was mighty.

With each exhale, he didn’t pull away—he gave as much as I would take. As much as I needed to calm my thundering pulse. Traces of him held me, saturating my body with something more than air. He left himself in the marrow of my bones, in the pulse of my wrists, in the spaces between each heartbeat.

I was no longer just breathing. I was becoming. 

Somewhere in the tangled mess of our situation, I hadn’t noticed Arthur bringing me back to the surface. When we finally broke through, the rush of cool ocean air kissed my cheeks, sending a shudder through me. I felt like I had just stolen something forbidden, something ancient—like I had partaken in a divine secret that was never meant for human hands. As if I had slipped past the gods unnoticed, grasping at eternity, daring to hold onto something beyond biology, beyond comprehension.

And still, despite the overwhelming weight of what had just happened between us, my instincts took over. I gasped for breath, gulping down fresh air, grounding myself in reality—even as I mourned the loss of that impossible intimacy. I pushed myself back onto the platform, slumping onto my back with a heavy huff, my limbs trembling from the lingering adrenaline. I barely registered Arthur rising beside me, his own chest rising and falling in deep, measured breaths.

Poor thing. I really did steal the breath from his lungs. Literally.

The thought sent a dizzy rush through me. Had I gotten too carried away? Had I taken too much? I wasn’t even sure what too much meant in this situation. My mind reeled as I tried to make sense of it, to unravel the impossibility of what we had just shared.

“Holy shit,” I exhaled, still trying to steady my racing heart. “Arthur, why didn’t you tell me you could do that? I thought you were trying to drown me!”

I pushed up onto my elbows, my gaze locking onto his face as he hovered in the water between my legs. He looked just as disoriented as I felt, the glow in his veins pulsing slow and steady, like the aftershocks of something neither of us could fully comprehend. He blinked up at me, his gills fluttering slightly as if he was still catching his breath, too.

“M’sorry,” he murmured, his voice softer now, more careful. “I asked how long you could hold your breath… I—I thought you knew what I was doin’. I never meant to scare ya, sweetheart.”

His eyes held nothing but sincerity, and yet I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?” The words came out sharper than I intended, my emotions still tangled up in the lingering panic.

Arthur flinched—not physically, but I saw the way something in him pulled back, just slightly. The guilt in his expression sent a pang of regret through my chest. He truly hadn’t meant to frighten me.

“I thought humans did it all the time,” he admitted, scratching at the back of his head. “I’ve seen ‘em press their mouths together, sharin’ breath. Never really understood why, though… Since you’ve got plenty of it up here.” He waved a webbed hand through the air as if the concept itself was baffling to him.

This caught my attention. I stared at him, dumbfounded, my heart giving an odd little stutter. Oh, Arthur. I sat up fully now, moving closer to the edge as his words sank in. He’d seen humans do it before? It took a moment for it to click, for realization to dawn over me like the slow crest of a wave. Oh. He’d seen humans kiss.

“Oh, honey, that’s not—” I hesitated, rubbing my temples with a sigh. How the hell do I even explain this to him? “It’s not the same when humans do it,” I tried again, my voice softer now. “We’re not actually sharing breath. Not like that… not like what we just did.”

Arthur tilted his head, his brows knitting together in confusion. He was trying to understand, I could see that much, but I was probably upending his entire perception of human behavior in real-time.

“Then… why do you do it?”

I let out a slow breath, trying to piece it together in a way that made sense. “It’s called kissing. It’s a way humans express affection. Like a silent conversation… a way to say things without words—like ‘I care about you,’ or ‘I want to be close to you.’” My fingers curled against the damp fabric of my wetsuit. “When two people press their mouths together, they’re sharing a connection, and sometimes…” My voice faltered, realization creeping up on me as the words formed on my tongue. Gods above. It hit me that we had just done practically the same thing. “...sometimes even a little piece of their soul.”

Arthur was completely still. His eyes, dark and fathomless, locked onto mine like the pull of the tide, widening ever so slightly as his pupils expanded. A shiver ran through me, the weight of his gaze so intense it felt like he could see straight into my core.

Then, as if drawn by some unseen force, he moved closer.

The water rippled gently around his body, his movements slow, deliberate. He mirrored the way we had sat together earlier, but this time, he braced his hands on either side of me, his arms caging me in a way that sent a deep warmth curling in my stomach. The space between us was nonexistent, the air suddenly thick, charged with something I couldn’t quite name.

“Kissing…” Arthur repeated the word, barely more than a murmur, tasting it on his tongue.

I could almost see the gears turning in his mind, the way he was processing everything I’d just said. And I knew, with startling certainty, that he was thinking the same thing I was.

What we shared underwater… was far deeper, far more intimate than any human kiss could ever be.

“Yes, kissing.” My voice came out softer than I intended, and I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat. Fuck, why did I feel so nervous? He was so close I could taste the salt on his breath, feel the warmth radiating from his skin despite the cool water between us. Those deep, knowing eyes never left mine, watching me like he could read every thought flickering through my mind.

“Th-there’s many different ways to kiss,” I went on, my voice betraying my nerves. Why the hell am I even telling him this? “It’s not always on the lips. You can kiss pretty much anywhere on the body.”

His pupils dilated slightly, the dark pools nearly eclipsing the striking blue of his irises. “Anywhere?” His voice had dropped an octave, rougher, like sea water pulling back before a crashing wave.

I nodded, feeling heat creep up my neck. “And it’s not always between partners. Parents kiss their children, relatives kiss their loved ones, some people kiss their pets.” My fingers fidgeted, he was so close now I could feel the smoothness of his chest as he drew breath. “You can even blow a kiss.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed slightly, his expression shifting from something unreadable to pure confusion. “Why would someone do that?”

A soft giggle bubbled up my throat, his curiosity catching me off guard in the best way. “People do it when they’re beyond each other's reach. A way of sending your affection through the air.”

Feeling emboldened, I reached for his hand—broad, webbed, strong but gentle beneath my touch. His skin was cool and smooth, glistening in the fading light. Slowly, I lifted his arm and guided the back of his hand toward my lips.

“When you blow someone a kiss, you have to bring it to life before letting it go,” I explained, my voice barely above a whisper. Then, without breaking eye contact, I pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the wet space of his palm, exaggerating the smacking sound just enough to tease him.

Arthur went completely still.

I felt the tension coil in his muscles, the way his fingers twitched slightly against my own. When I pulled away, my eyes flickered to his face—and oh. His cheeks were tinted a deeper shade of pink, a faint but undeniable flush creeping along his cheekbones. Was he… blushing?

I bit my lip, suppressing a grin as warmth curled in my chest. I had just made him blush.

Arthur blinked, looking between his hand and my face like he was trying to make sense of what had just happened, like he was trying to feel something beyond the physical sensation lingering on his skin.

“There,” I said proudly, admiring my work as if I had just painted something delicate and unseen across his palm. “Now, you blow it away.”

I gently turned his hand toward the ocean, the sky now fading to a deepening indigo as the sun traded shifts with the moon. The first stars flickered to life above us, their distant glow reflecting in the water, shimmering against Arthur’s iridescent skin. Then, slowly, I blew on his palm, a soft breath carrying the invisible gift away.

Arthur inhaled sharply. His gills flared at the gesture, pulsing with some unspoken emotion.

I released his hand, but instead of pulling away, he brought it to my face. A breath hitched in my throat as the rough pad of his thumb traced over my bottom lip, dragging slowly, reverently. The touch was featherlight, but I felt it everywhere.

His fingers trembled slightly. His eyes burned with something deeper than curiosity now—an insatiable hunger, a deep, aching longing.

I heard him swallow before he spoke, his voice barely rising above the whisper of the roaring waves, rich and weighted, like he was holding himself back. “…and where does the kiss go?”

The words rolled over me, sweeping me into the depth of his need. Arthur’s gaze searched mine, pupils blown wide, his entire body coiled with restrained tension. We were already so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath, hear the tremble in his voice.

“To someone you love.”

It mattered little to me which one of us closed the distance—only that we did. The moment our lips met, the world fell away, as if time itself had paused to bear witness. The moon, ever watchful, seemed to still the tides, holding her breath in quiet admiration, offering her silent blessing.

Arthur kissed me with an aching slowness, as if savoring something precious, something fragile. His lips were warm, firm but yielding, and impossibly gentle. Nothing like before—when he was breathing life into me. No, this was different. This was the slow unraveling of restraint, the surrender to something we had long denied. The intertwining of unspoken desire, of aching need.

The ship was sinking. And I finally raised the white flag.

A shiver ran through me as I brushed my tongue against the fullness of his bottom lip, teasing, testing. He groaned—a deep, guttural sound that sent heat pooling low in my belly—and parted his lips for me.

The first stroke of his tongue against mine was devastating, deliberate, and utterly alien. Silken and warm, but textured—each ridge on the top of it dragged against my own, sending sharp, electric pulses straight down my spine. It was longer than I expected, sinuous and impossibly agile, exploring me with a slow, unrelenting hunger. I gasped into his mouth as he curled it against the roof of mine, the friction sending a deep, aching thrill through my body.

He tasted of salt, like the sea breeze just before a storm, rich and heady with something darker beneath—the faint scent of musk, the wild pull of him. My fingers reached up around his neck, one hand cradling his jaw. Desperate to keep myself tethered as I drowned in the sensation of him, the way he felt—all sharp edges and smooth restraint, barely contained.

Arthur kissed like he knew what his touch did to me, like he had been waiting to unravel me, to steal the breath from my lungs and make it his own. 

And I let him. I let him take me.

The soft bristle of his beard scraped against my skin, leaving a tingling warmth in its wake, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. His fingers skimmed my waist, pressing just enough to anchor me, as if afraid I might slip away. 

All I could taste was him. All I could breathe was him. Arthur, steady and unshakable, yet trembling with want. The only thing that mattered in this moment was us.

I didn’t need to open my eyes to see the glow of his bioluminescence. Its colorful shimmer lit up the space between us, painting the darkness behind my eyelids in swirls of deep indigo, flickering like a living halo. 

The heat of his body pressed against mine, damp and feverish, as he surged forward, rising from the water.

The platform was firm beneath me as he eased me down, his weight settling just enough to trap me beneath him. Then, suddenly, I felt it—before I even heard it. A low, resonant purr, vibrating deep in his chest and pouring into mine, rattling through my ribs like the hum of something ancient, something meant to lure and ensnare.

And like the vibration of his purr I could feel the need exuding off him in waves.

His lips crashed against mine, no longer gentle but desperate, fevered. His tongue, ribbed and serpentine, curled around mine, stroking, caressing, dragging across every sensitive nerve like he wanted to learn me by touch alone. The sensation sent a sharp pulse of need straight to my core. I moaned into his mouth, but he swallowed the sound, pressing closer, devouring me with each frantic kiss.

His bioluminescence pulsed in time with his heartbeat, casting a rhythm of shifting blues and purples against my skin. His fingers, slick with seawater, traced up my sides, leaving a cool trail that burned in contrast to the heat pooling between us. I wrapped my legs around him as strong hands curled against my waist, squeezing the tender soft flesh. 

Powerful hips rutted against mine, the hard press of something unmistakable beneath his scales sent a shudder through me. Mixed with the slick proof of his arousal, the sensation was maddening. And I had no doubt he could smell my own—if not taste it.

The kiss turned messy, wet, tongues tangling in a frantic battle for dominance neither of us cared to win. My nails scraped against his shoulders, feeling the shifting muscles beneath his damp skin, and his purr deepened—a growl mixed with something more animalistic. He nipped at my bottom lip, tugging just enough to make me whimper, then soothed the sting with another slow, dragging stroke of his tongue.

I was drowning in him, in the salt, the heat, the way he tasted like the storm rolling in over the horizon. His hunger was intoxicating, and I met it with my own, chasing every kiss, every desperate movement. 

Breath became an afterthought and the only thing that mattered to me was more.

We lay together like this for what felt like eternity, our breaths mingling in the humid air, bodies still pressed close, reluctant to part. My fingers traced lazy circles over the damp skin of his back, memorizing the ridges and dips of muscle beneath the glow that pulsed gently through his veins. Every flicker of light felt like a whisper, a secret between us.

And then he pulled away. I whimpered softly at the loss, my body instinctively arching toward him, unwilling to break the connection. A shimmering string of saliva still tethered us before he reached up, swiping his thumb over my swollen lips, his touch almost possessive.

His sapphire eyes—drowning in pools of endless black—studied me like I was something holy, something to be worshiped. His pupils had expanded so wide they reflected the moonlight itself, making him look less like a man and more like something wild that had crawled out of the deep to claim me.

He leaned in, breath warm against my ear, voice a low, husky murmur. "Did I do good?"

The words alone were enough to make me tremble, but then he nipped at the shell of my ear, his sharp teeth scraping before soothing the sting with the soft press of his lips.

I could hardly form a thought, let alone a coherent answer. His mouth was relentless, lips dragging over my throat, finding sensitive spots with an infuriating precision, nipping and sucking until I was gasping, grasping at his shoulders like they were the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. My wetsuit suddenly felt suffocating, unbearable. If he didn’t stop, I would shed it and take him right here, consequences be damned. It hardly mattered if our bodies could even fit—all that mattered was the heat, the need, the way he was unraveling me with every touch.

"Good—" I managed, the word rasping from deep in my throat, thick with want. "Doesn’t even begin to describe it. There are no words, Arthur. That was—"

He whispered something against my skin. A soft murmur, thick with devotion.

It made me pause. Whatever he said wasn’t English, and it certainly wasn’t human. The sound was rough, like the shifting of stones against the ocean floor, but it carried a melodic cadence, a fluidity that sent a shiver rolling through me.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my pulse hammering as I searched his face. "What do those words mean?"

Arthur slowly eased himself off me, sliding back into the water with a grace that reminded me he was not just a man. He belonged to the sea, to something vast and untamed, yet here he was, staring at me like I was the only thing anchoring him to this moment.

I followed him to the edge, pausing as my fingers hovered above the water.

He said the words again, softer this time.

"It has a few meanings," Arthur admitted, his gaze sweeping over my face, studying me with the quiet intensity of a painter capturing his muse. His throat tightened around the words, as if it hurt to speak. "My Ma used to say it to me when I was a kid, before I was taken."

I swallowed thickly as he held my gaze, and then he spoke the translation, each word sinking into my chest like a vow, like a promise meant only for me.

"My hearts will follow you to the end. Into every horizon."

Giving me little time to react, Arthur wrapped his strong arms around my waist and pulled me back into the dark waters. The shock of it stole my breath, the sudden cool embrace of the salt water wrapping around me like silk. The only light was his pulsing glow, shifting hues of deep indigo and soft cerulean, casting shimmering patterns against my skin. Above us, the stars blinked in quiet witness, scattered across the sky like tiny echoes of his bioluminescence that flickered beneath the waves.

I looked down, my breath hitching. The water was so dark now I could barely see the tips of my toes. An endless unknown stretched beneath me, and for the first time, I felt the tendrils of fear creeping in. My pulse pounded against my ribs, instinct screaming at me to retreat, to find solid ground.

But then I remembered his words. What they meant. What they implied. There was no turning back. I was being carried on the wind, letting the current take me where I needed to go. All I had to do was trust him.

Tentatively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling the way his body moved against mine—fluid, effortless. It was like he could sense my hesitation, my uncertainty, because before I could voice it, he pulled me closer.

"Arthur…"

His warmth was a stark contrast to the cool water, his broad chest expanding with each measured breath. I could feel the steady exhale from his gills as they brushed against my thighs, sending a strange, almost soothing sensation through me. He held me tight, one strong arm wrapped securely around my waist, keeping me anchored to him, to this moment.

"There’s something I want to show you," he murmured, his voice low and steady, the promise of something unknown lingering in his tone.

"But… I—I can’t—" My throat tightened, the weight of the ocean pressing around us, reminding me of my limits. I wasn’t like him. I couldn’t breathe down there.

Arthur didn’t even let me finish the thought.

"Hush, darlin’," he soothed, his lips grazing the shell of my ear before pressing against my temple. His voice was a whispered vow, a quiet command laced with reassurance. "Let me be your breath."

Before I could protest, he sealed his lips over mine, the kiss deep and consuming, and I felt it—his breath flowing into me, warm and intoxicating. A strange sensation, like the ocean itself had bent to his will, filling my lungs with something alive.

And just like that, the fear ebbed away.

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

It took a few tries to get used to Arthur breathing into my lungs. At first, it felt unnatural, like my body was rejecting the very thing keeping me alive. My nervous heart devoured each breath like a greedy little sea snake, twisting around my chest, tightening, constricting. But Arthur was patient. He never seemed to mind.

I tried to hold it longer, to prove I could endure, but it was as if he could sense my discomfort before I even knew it myself. He never let it reach the point where panic crept in, never let my lungs burn from the inside out. The moment he sensed my struggle, his strong fingers would find my chin, tilting my face toward his. And then, with a quiet kind of reverence, he would seal his lips over mine and breathe life into me.

And, like before, he was never the first to pull away. Arthur let me take as much air as I needed, as many breaths as it took to steady the wild thunder of my pulse. There was no impatience, no frustration—only trust. A trust unlike anything I had ever known.

I was completely and utterly at his mercy.

The water was darker than I had ever seen it. A thick, endless abyss stretching in every direction, swallowing everything beyond the faint glow of the facility’s underwater lights. They cast eerie, shifting beams, just enough for monitoring water levels, but not enough to truly see what lurked in the depths.

And there was so much lurking.

Every creature we passed seemed to materialize from the void, slipping through the water like ghosts from a world I was only beginning to understand. I knew these animals, had studied them, cared for them. But here, under the shroud of darkness, they felt different. Unfamiliar. As if I were a trespasser in their domain.

A particularly curious stingray drifted above us, its broad body gliding effortlessly through the water. I looked up—and nearly choked on my own scream.

The pale, ghoulish underside of its body loomed above me, its strange, human-like mouth and vacant eyes staring down with an uncanny, haunting expression. My body acted before my mind could catch up—I jerked violently, nearly kicking Arthur square in the chest, my limbs flailing in pure, unfiltered panic.

Once again, he calmed me with his breath. His warmth spread through me, steadying the frantic rhythm of my heart, and I felt it—the quiet shake of his chest, the vibration of something light, and effortless. Laughter. It bubbled up his throat, muted by the water, but I felt it, a tingling hum against my lips before we pulled away.

His fingers found my wrist, strong yet careful, guiding my hand upward. With a slow, deliberate touch, he traced his thumb along my palm, unfurling my fingers one by one.

The stingray hovered just above us, its massive wings rippling like silk through the water. And then, with a slow, ghostly glide, it brushed its velvety skin over the tips of my fingers. Like a whisper, like a greeting.

I had touched stingrays before, plenty of times in the shallow touch-tank, where children giggled and splashed, reaching out to feel the slippery softness of their skin. But never like this. Never in their world, where the touch was theirs to give. It wasn’t me reaching out—it was them, exploring me.

He lifted his hand in front of me, and what he did next sent warmth blooming deep in my belly. With deliberate care, he hooked our index fingers together—a silent sign, one I recognized instantly. Friend.

My chest tightened at the realization. Not only had Arthur remembered that fleeting moment we shared when he was bleeding out on the beach, but he had learned the gesture. He had taken it as his own, stored it away like something precious, something worth keeping.

A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down, curling my finger a little tighter around his.

I made a quiet promise to teach him more later.

Arthur pulled me forward, guiding me through a submerged tunnel. The familiar structure clicked in my mind, recognition settling in my bones. We were entering the back section of the tank—the place away from prying eyes, from tourists pressing their faces against glass. This was his sanctuary. Where he spent his time when he wasn’t with me or the girls.

Curiosity sparked in my chest. What does he want to show me down here?

We swam deeper, the water thick with shadow, but I trusted his grip, the steady pull of his hands as he led me forward. And then, nestled within the rock and kelp, I saw it.

A small cave. A hidden space tucked away in the depths of the tank. I wasn’t sure how I knew—but I did. This was where he slept.

Something about it felt lived in, personal. The flattened kelp was arranged in a circular shape, almost like a nest. It wasn’t just a hiding place. It was his. I could picture him here, curled up in the quiet dark, unguarded, safe. For the first time since I had met him, I wondered what it felt like for him to rest. Unguarded, unshackled, away from cold prying eyes. To just be. 

Arthur pulled me inside, his arm wrapping instinctively around my waist as his bioluminescence flared to life. Light bloomed from his skin, illuminating the space in shifting blues and purples, and what I saw nearly stole the breath from my lungs.

The rock-like walls were etched with various drawings, their rough surfaces covered in markings that varied in detail and size. Some depicted the sea life he shared the tank with—familiar outlines of stingrays, sharks, seals and fish. Others were delicate sketches of underwater plants, their flowing tendrils stretching across the stone like living things.

Curiosity tugged at me, pulling me away from Arthur’s side. I swam closer, reaching out to trace my fingers over the carvings. The grooves were deep, uneven, reminding me of ancient cave drawings. He must have used his claws, carefully etching each image into the stone, leaving behind proof of his existence in this lonely place.

Behind me, Arthur was searching for something, his large hands sifting through layers of kelp. He reached beneath the safety of his makeshift bed, pulling out something dark and solid. But my attention was still on the walls, my heart hammering as I took in every detail of his underwater art.

Then, Arthur waved a hand, pulling me from my trance. I turned to him just as he pointed toward the farthest side of the cave.

And I released my breath.

There, among the sketches of fish and plants—was me.

It was a simple drawing, lacking the fine details of his other works, but it didn’t matter. With the rough material he had to work with, it was still a masterpiece. My heart ached at the sight of it, at the thought of him carving me into the walls of his world.

But it was what he did next that truly unraveled me.

Arthur lifted a webbed palm to his lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his skin. Then, with a small smile, he released a stream of bubbles toward the drawing—just like I had taught him. An expression of affection, a gesture so sweet it made my chest tighten.

I could have kissed him right then and there. Well, I tried to.

But this gentle giant, ever concerned for my well-being, misunderstood my intent. The moment our lips met, he must have thought I was seeking air. He held me there for a breath longer, and though I wished I could stay pressed against him forever, he was already wrapping a strong arm around my waist, propelling us forward with effortless strength.

I barely had time to process what had just happened before we were darting out of the cave, leaving the warmth of his sanctuary behind.

Arthur still held something tightly in his other palm, and as he guided me through the darkened waters, I realized we were heading somewhere new.

The temperature dropped, the light fading into near blackness.

The deep sea exhibit.

Once we reached a spot he found satisfactory, we floated in utter stillness. The silence of the deep pressed around us, thick and all-encompassing, making me acutely aware of my own heartbeat thrumming in my ears. The nerves crept up my spine again, cold and slithering.

It was pitch black.

I couldn’t see my own hands in front of me, couldn’t even make out Arthur’s features except for the faintest shimmer of his dimmed bioluminescence. He was holding back, keeping his glow subdued, and I had no idea why.

Why did he bring me here?

Then, all at once, his light flared to life.

The sudden brilliance stunned me, a galaxy of blues and purples bursting from his skin like a supernova in the dark. But it wasn’t just him, his radiance set off a chain reaction.

And the void around us moved.

At first, I thought it was my eyes playing tricks on me, but then I saw them—hundreds of creatures emerging from the abyss, answering his call.

Arthur was a beacon, and the deep-sea life responded to him like moths to a flame. Lanternfish flickered in and out of sight, their tiny lights winking like stars in the midnight ocean. Jellies pulsed with ghostly luminescence, their delicate tendrils undulating as they drifted past. Squid, cuttlefish, sea angels—so many creatures I couldn’t begin to name—came to life before my eyes, weaving in and out of the glow like spirits caught between worlds.

They surrounded us in a slow, mesmerizing dance, silent sentinels bearing witness to whatever was about to unfold.

And at the center of it all was him.

Arthur’s radiance was breathtaking, his skin an ever-shifting nebula of color and light. But it wasn’t just his appearance that captivated me—it was the way the ocean responded to him, how it bent to his presence, how even the wildest, most elusive creatures drifted close as if he were something sacred.

He was neither fully man nor entirely mythical. He was something else entirely.

Something that felt indescribable. And in that moment, in the hush of the deep, I understood this pull toward him for what it truly was.

Love.

The solid object he had brought with him turned out to be a large oyster shell, its rough surface barely catching the faint, shifting glow of his bioluminescence. Holding it steady in one hand, he traced a pointed claw along its lip, prying it open with slow, practiced ease.

I watched him with quiet reverence as his fingers slipped inside, moving carefully, deliberately, as if retrieving something precious. When he finally pulled his hand free, his fingers curled tightly around whatever lay within—his fist closing around it with such purpose that my breath crawled up my throat.

A pearl. It had to be.

The empty shell drifted downward, spiraling slowly to the bottom of the tank, forgotten. Arthur didn’t watch it sink. His full attention was on me.

His hands found mine, and the moment our fingers met, my pulse thundered. Heat raced through my veins, my entire body suddenly hyper aware of the weight of the moment, of the way the water seemed charged around us. Before I could even find the words to ask what he was doing, his hand rose, his palm pressing gently against the curve of my neck.

Then, he breathed into me. Warmth spread through my lungs, steadying me, grounding me, but this time, it felt different. Because when he pulled away, his lips still so close I could feel the lingering press of his breath—his mouth moved.

Arthur was speaking. The realization sent a shiver rolling through me. And then I heard it.

His voice.

It was nothing like the deep, gravelly tone I knew from above water. Here, in his element, it was something else entirely.

A melody.

A song, resonant and fluid, shifting in pitch like the ebb and flow of the tide. It wasn’t just words—it was music, a chorus of sound that wrapped around me, kissed the deepest parts of me. It filled my chest, soaked into my bones, made my skin hum with the rhythm of it.

It was haunting. And heavenly.

Tears pricked at my eyes. I didn’t even understand the words, but I felt them. Like a current pulling me deeper, like a promise whispered between waves. And in that moment, I knew—he wasn’t just speaking.

He was singing to me.

Arthur opened his palm, revealing the pearl nestled against the warm glow of his skin. Its milky-white surface shimmered beneath the shifting blues and purples, catching the light like a tiny piece of the moon itself.

A gift. For me.

My heart thundered, a deep, resounding pulse that seemed to echo through every fiber of my being. My mind raced, recalling everything I had learned about his kind—about the significance of this. Gift-giving was a siren’s way of accepting courtship, of expressing mutual desire, a bond far deeper than mere affection.

Did sirens mate for life? Could they have more than one? Am I his first?

Why, of all creatures, did Arthur choose me?

The questions crashed over me like waves against the shore, relentless and unyielding. But then I looked at him. And every uncertainty melted away.

His gaze, luminous and breathtaking, held nothing but certainty. The sweetest smile tugged at his lips, his blue eyes alive with glowing radiance. There was no hesitation, no doubt in his expression. Only him—only us.

His lips moved again, shaping the words I now recognized, a melody that sent warmth cascading through me.

My hearts will follow you to the end.

Emotion swelled in my chest, thick and all-consuming. I reached for him, wrapping my fingers around his, closing the pearl between our palms—sheltering it, protecting it. Safe from the darkness of the tank, from the weight of the unknown, from all the uncertainties that once held me back. It was ours now, cradled between our touch, a silent vow sealed in the space where our hands met.

Arthur had brought light into my life, breath into my lungs, and adventure into my soul.

And as I pressed my lips to his, I knew—I would follow him too.

Into every horizon.

AN: Listen, lets just ignore the fact that aquarium tanks are absolutely NOT built like this. And we’re also gonna pretend that the reader can see underwater bc I forgot to add the goggles. OH WELL. We're getting creative. With the way everything is going, I'm hoping that the reader gets to fuck her fish man (husband) by chapter 9. YOU GO GIRL!

Also enjoy these inspo pics from that last scene. Utterly gorgeous creatures!! (CR to frida.yolotzin on instagram!)

[until-the-house-shakes]

Slip ups

Wolfstar raising Regulus/ Werewolf! Regulus

Microfic

-

Regulus didn’t mean for this title to become a regular thing. It genuinely started as an accidental slip up, and he was far too embarrassed to correct anyone. Plus, the idea of having others believe that Remus and Sirius were his dads instead of his actual birth parents, didn’t seem that awful to him.

As long as Remus and Sirius never found out. Because if they did, they would be over the top obnoxious about it.

-

The first slip up happened the first night at Hogwarts. Him and his new roommates were sharing small details about their lives. Barty went on about how awful his father was, and how he planned on being a much better Ravenclaw than he ever was. Evan talked about his twin sister and how he was happy they were put in the same house so he can keep an eye on her. Regulus then started to talk about Sirius and Remus, and didn’t even realize the titles he gave them until Barty spoke up.

“Wow, your dads are young. How were they even allowed to adopt you?” It was an innocent enough question, but still made Regulus beyond flustered. “Oh uh… well.. they.. it’s complicated but they’re basically my dads so… enough questions.”

The conversation then took a turn to special interests and Regulus honestly couldn’t remember what else happened that night, but ‘dads’ stuck to him like a parasite.

-

The second slip up was less mortifying, but maybe because it was also much more private than the first. It happened in the hospital wing after an accidental potion mishap. Barty was certain he knew how much fluxweed he needed to add to the polyjuice potion, but in the end, added way too much and the cauldron exploded. Thankfully nothing terrible happened, just a few burns on Regulus’ arm that Madam Pompfrey could easily heal.

“I will have to call your guardians about this. But I’m sure Mr. Lupin already knows.” Madam Pompfrey stated as he wrapped up the last of Regulus’ burns. “Great. More reasons for dad to flip out about my safety. You know he won’t even let me try out for quidditch? How unfair is that!” Regulus was so absorbed in his own pity party he didn’t even catch the title he called Remus.

Quidditch has been an ongoing fight between the three Lupin boys since the second day of school. Sirius and Regulus believe it would be a wonderful thing for Regulus to try out for, seeing as he’s been flying on a broom since last year (and really needed the friends), but Remus is far too concerned about the young werewolf’s safety. Regulus likes that Remus cares about him, makes him feel a type of love that his birth parents never gave him, but he was starting to cross a line of over protective that was annoying Regulus. He just wanted to play quidditch. Where is the harm in that?

“I see where your dad is coming from, love. He was in the hospital wing for your other father and Mr. Potter every other day due to a quidditch injury. It’s a dangerous sport.” Madam Pompfrey laughed, sending out a patronus for the DADA professor.

Regulus didn’t realize what they were calling Remus and Sirius until Promfrey said ‘other father’. Once it was clear, Regulus was bright red and quickly stuttering out “Don’t tell him I called him dad. Please. He’ll be a right prat about it.” The young kid groaned, feeling very embarrassed about their previous conversation.

The medi-witch only giggled and promised to keep their conversation a secret for the time being.

-

Months flew past and soon enough it was winter break, and Regulus only had very few ‘slip ups’ since the day in the medical wing. It wasn’t like Regulus was embarrassed to see Remus and Sirius as his dads, he just knew those two would be over dramatic about it, especially his brother, and he was never in the mood to deal with such theatrics.

Sadly, he definitely had to deal with ‘such theatrics’ soon.

It was the morning after a full, and Regulus woke up in the backyard of Sirius’ house surrounded by his brother’s closest friends. Remus was back to his normal self, but Sirius, James, and Peter were still in their animagus forms. It was pretty entertaining to see Wormy sleeping in the antlers of Prongs, while Padfoot was laid on top of Remus as a blanket.

Regulus tried to get up from the hard ground, but his plans were quickly foiled the second he placed any pressure on his left foot.

“Fuck!” The pained cry woke up all the adults around him, but Regulus didn’t care much about their comfort when his leg felt as if it just snapped in half. Why did it hurt so badly? He never was in this much pain after a full moon. What the fuck happened last night?

“Cub, it’s okay. You’re okay. What happened?” Remus instantly was at Regulus’ side. Carrying the small boy inside to safety. Even though the young werewolf didn’t remember, Remus was all too aware that last night was an awful moon. His cub kept fighting with Padfoot, and then became hyper aware of some scratch on his leg. Despite all the adults trying their hardest to keep the cub from tearing his leg apart, there were still a ton of scratches and a few large bite marks left on his poor cub.

“My leg hurts! I tried.. I tried putting pressure on it.. and I fell. It hurts so bad dad. I can’t.. I can’t” Regulus cried out, burying his head into the safety of Remus’ neck. By this point, all the marauders were shifted back into their human forms, and bustling around the kitchen to help however they can. Peter was making breakfast, James was getting clothes for the two werewolves, and Sirius was getting potions to help fix up their kid.

But everything stopped the second Regulus said ‘Dad’.

They all knew he accidentally called Remus dad every now and again, but he never once called him that in person. Never to his face.

Sirius was trying his hardest to not cry from joy.

“I know it hurts cub. We’re going to fix it okay? I promise we’ll fix it and it won’t hurt anymore.” Remus kissed the top of Regulus’ head before graciously taking his robe from James to cover up. He then helped Regulus into his own robe and started fixing his cub up with the help of Sirius.

-

It has been hours since Regulus called Remus ‘dad’, and none of them have talked since then. Not even James can get Regulus to come out of his room for a few words, and James was by far the kid’s favorite.

“He’s probably embarrassed! It’s like calling your teacher mom. You know all about that Pads.” Peter said, trying his hardest to defuse the tension in the room. He was right. Sirius used to accidentally call Minnie ‘mom’ all the time back in school, but that still felt so much different to Regulus calling Remus ‘dad’.

Remus being called dad wasn’t even an issue! All the boys thought it was an adorable and honoring title, but Regulus seemed far too embarrass to see it like that.

“He’s a kid. Let him be embarrassed by it. I remember being that age, if I did anything embarrassing I instantly had my walls up and ready to hide for days. I’ll give him some time and when he’s ready to talk, we can talk.” Remus shrugged, meaning every word he said. He got embarrassed easily his first few years of Hogwarts, and still does even to this day. While he fully believe Regulus had nothing to be embarrassed about, he understood why his cub wanted to hide away, and wouldn’t judge him for it. He would give him time.

-

Apparently all Regulus needed was a full day by himself, because by nighttime, Sirius and Remus heard the all too familiar patter of their cub’s footsteps heading to their room.

“Reg? Is everything alright?” Sirius asked once he was sure Regulus was fully in the room with them.

“… I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you?” Came the small, broken voice of their kid. Sure, they didn’t birth him, but Regulus was their kid and nothing could change that. Hell he even shared the last name Lupin! He was theirs damnit.

“Of course you can cub.” Remus smiled, patting at the open space between him and Sirius- Regulus’ favorite spot to sleep.

A few minutes of quiet passed while Regulus got settled into bed between the two men. If Sirius didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was asleep, but before that thought could go anywhere he heard a very quiet, “night dads. Love you.”

“Night kiddo. Love you too.” Sirius smiled, allowing his eyes to close for some peaceful sleep.

“Night Cub. Love you the most.”

[becausegraf]

Oh man, I love this analysis :)

Here be some thoughts this prodded out of me, about where Stolas and Blitz are at individually and as a romantic pair~

Spoiler alert:

This chaper of their story is not about their romance at all.

-

I very much appreciate that they're giving these two the time for the shock to settle, knowing that the whole situation is the result of Stolas' hand being forced and not something either of them maneuvered them into on purpose. As much as 'oh how neat we get the chance to get to know each other better and connect now' is the outcome, that's where the circumstances pushed them, and not something they decided they wanted.

Without the whole court debacle and a life-or-death situation they made it through alive but not without consequences, we don't know if they would have re-established contact to give this another shot already, or ever.

-

Ever since The Full Moon, Stolas' feelings have shifted from yearning and adoration for a version of Blitz that simply isn't the real deal, to the conflicted messy pile-up of being hurt and offended and disappointed and full of doubts about himself, while still very much caring a lot about 'this idiot'. He's gotten burned, he's gotten the ice cold shower, and he'll never be able to just go back to the way he used to view and feel about Blitz. He shouldn't, either.

Blitz isn't unchanged, either. He's finally opened his eyes to how his hissy fits and shots-fired do more than just keep people at a distance - he really causes pain to people whose main mistake was to reach over to pet a feral cat, meaning him no harm, and getting the claws. Blitz can act like a massive raging jerkass, and he's eagerly avoided truly registering the fall-out of his actions, but *he doesn't get any joy out of seeing people hurt and upset*. He's been self-absorbed, not sadistic.

-

It felt right to me, that Sinsmas didn't insist on dragging the two of them into a mushy dreamy tale of how fortunate they are to have each other, and how their close connection in and of itself is some kind of salvation.

That's a soap opera. That's oversimplified fiction. That's untethered from the reality that they're two guys with a complicated history and a lot that they don't know or understand about each other, and haven't even made up their mind about where they're at with each other now. Stolas was at a point where he'd withdrawn after Blitz pretty much broke his heart, shattered the illusion, and then yo-yoed rapidly between 'fuck you, I'm pissed off and unwilling to treat you with even basic respect' and 'fuck I take it all back, tis me who is the mess inside and I do want you to be okay'.

Stolas is taking a careful risk in giving Blitz a chance to do things differently, a chance to demonstrate that he can be trusted after all. A friend who occasionally kicks your emotional shit in, no matter what kind of issues cause them to behave that way, *is not a friend*. Stolas got the claws, and now he's, in a sense, 'doing the stupid thing' and allowing this feral beastie to come in close and beg for pets again.

Granted, the choice to try is more easily made given that he has nowhere else to go. He does need support right now, and Blitz and his crew didn't hesitate to offer it. They're making the best out of a bad situation, but Stolas' primary directive is to *simply get through this somehow*. He has other more dire worries. Blitz is fine - his daughter isn't.

His complicated fussy 'ex' is proving himself to be a mostly reliable and supportive friend, and that's far more relevant right now than having the 'are we ~together and in love~ or not' conversation. They'd never even had a regular casual honest open conversation before all this, and they've had their hands full with just stumbling through practical matters without annoying each other.

-

That they can coexist and not make each other miserable is already a huge deal! Plenty of prospective partners and close friends might find that the person they like spending time with isn't that easy to 'dance the dance' of daily life with at all. It takes patience and giving an earnest fuck about trying to accommodate each other without being overly demanding or making yourself uncomfortable. It takes at least somewhat letting your guard down and allowing someone else to see you as the person you are 'when no-one's looking'.

(Granted, Blitz is used to keeping certain aspects of himself pretty self-contained. He's let some of his feelings spill on Loona but he's also lived with her for somewhere North of 5 years if I got the timeline deets correct, *and* with her he's supposed to mind her needs more than she needs to bother herself with his, he's the parent after all.)

-

I guess, in short, I entirely expect Stolas and Blitz to have a pile of hurdles and conflicting emotions and needs to sort through about their relationship right now. They have beef with themselves and with each other that's gonna have to get resolved rather than pushed aside, and so far, they've (understandably) prioritised the basics over troubleshooting themselves and the romance between them.

To have a song skim completely over this not-so-fluffy reality would do the narrative a disservice, and I'm happy that the final version's song acknowledges the exhausting melancholy Stolas is steeped in so gently and compassionately. Our bird's having a real damn hard time of it, and although nobody can wave a wand and fix it for him or tell him what to do, at least he has people around him that stay near and welcome him and are willing to shepherd him around a bit. They're not letting him just drop off the face of the earth and wither, and honestly...

I think that's actually a first for him, too.

-

Whether he realises it or not, the biggest change for him isn't that he 'moved in with his sort-of-boyfriend', it's that he is no longer an isolated father left to raise a daughter without support - he's part of a family where people, despite it all, care a lot and are there for each other when it matters.

It'll sink in eventually, I'm sure. He has no clue what he was missing out on in the first place! Intimacy and romance has been his idea of 'where love happens', and that's what he'd been yearning for.

It's an amusing parallel with Blitz: 'I've never had a friend I didn't want to fuck/date'.

Blitz was his first friend - his first *puppy crush*. His daughter is not someone to bond with on a level of equal emotional give-and-take, a child shouldn't be their parent's emotional support.

His mother? Not a damn clue where she's been. His father? Absent. His caretakers? Subordinate and distanced. Stella's been at best 'around' and at worst an active detriment to be near.

This owl has been *painfully alone*, and that loneliness isn't being soothed by 'being with Blitz' specifically. It's becoming a part of 'Blitz and his family and friends' and being adopted just the way he is, by people that all together will care about him, and that Stolas can care about in turn without risking getting his soul crushed again.

wait, i don't understand, can u please if u want explain why they scrapped the "Stolitz Montage" song?

Yeah, I can explain! I actually have a lot of thoughts about these songs.

For context, at the beginning of Sinsmas, a song called Day By Day plays in the background while Blitz and Stolas run errands. Originally, a different song (untitled, so Sam Haft—the composer—unofficially called it Stolitz Montage) was going to play during these scenes, but they ended up scrapping it. I mentioned in the tags of a different post that I understood why they'd made this decision.

If you don't want to keep reading, my TL;DR is that I believe the tone and mood of Stolitz Montage doesn't fit Stolas' emotional journey in Sinsmas as well as Day By Day does.

If you do want to read my full personal analysis, keep reading below the cut!

-

(Note: I'm going to focus on the songs' lyrics, because I'm not knowledgeable enough about music to analyse the musical aspect of the songs. If anyone else wants to add their thoughts in that regard, be my guest!)

Let's start by taking a look at the lyrics of the scrapped song, Stolitz Montage:

So you're having a bad time

You're stressing and everything all seems much so

You've been having a sad time

And your family probably hates your fucking guts so

The song starts by describing Stolas' situation and emotional state in the days following the trial: he is sad and overwhelmed, everything feels like "too much", and his family probably hates him.

It's pretty clear from the get-go that they wanted a song for this montage that conveyed Stolas' struggle to adapt to life as a commoner, away from everything he's known, and having gone cold turkey on his depression meds (the lack of which is emphasised visually throughout the song).

The song is also in second person: Stolas isn't him, or me, he's you. This is something both songs have in common. It keeps the song at a slight emotional distance from Stolas. Whereas a first-person song would make the feelings too personal—would make Stolas too aware of his own struggle—and a third-person song wound be too distant, the second person allows Stolas to be only passively aware of his emotional state. He's not the one singing; he's the one being sung about. What he's feeling is being pointed out to him by an external, seemingly omniscient voice.

The song continues:

Ooooh-oh oooh ooh

I know you feel it too

You lost your way

And just can't fake it for another day

It's hard to take it

Just pretend you're gonna be okay

Here is where I think the tone of the song starts to deviate from what they wanted to convey in this montage.

At first glance, this is a continuation of the previous verses, and mostly expands on Stolas' emotional state: "it's hard to take it"; "you lost your way".

The key difference is that the lyrical voice now plays an actual role in that emotional state.

First, it states that it shares Stolas' feelings ("I know you feel it too"—implying that Stolas isn't the only one who feels this way). Thus, the lyrical voice starts shifting into an active character within the scene. And not any kind of character—one that can relate to Stolas and, more importantly, one that can offer some comfort.

Then, there's the line "just pretend you're gonna be okay". Now, I see two possible interpretations for this line. It can either be a piece of advice for Stolas (hey, I know it's hard, but just pretend), or another description of his struggle, a continuation of the previous line: "(it's hard to) just pretend you're gonna be okay". Personally, I lean slightly towards the former interpretation, especially because the lyrical voice's intention to offer comfort and advice becomes clearer in the next line of the song:

You're not okay and that's okay

This is where the focus of the song shifts fully towards a hopeful, even optimistic view of Stolas' situation.

Now, I get where they were going with this. "It's okay to not be okay" is a very powerful thing to say to someone who's struggling with mental illness and hard life circumstances, and it's one Stolas badly needs to hear.

In fact, it is a message that is conveyed to Stolas multiple times throughout the episode. By Blitz. Not through words, of course—but through actions. In the montage itself, as well as throughout the rest of the episode, Blitz constantly stands by Stolas' side, offers him company and comfort, meets him where he's at emotionally, doesn't pressure him to be okay, and (especially at the end in their apartment) gives room for Stolas' sadness and grief to exist. He hugs Stolas, puts his hands on Stolas' arms, and opens up emotionally about his own sister, and those are all ways of showing Stolas that it's okay that Stolas isn't okay.

But here's the thing. The knowledge that it's okay to not be okay is Blitz's, not Stolas'. That is Blitz's emotional state, not Stolas'. Stolas doesn't know it's okay to not be okay, and even though Blitz keeps conveying this message to him, he's not able to hear it just yet. Not this early in his descent to rock bottom.

In fact, learning that it's okay to not be okay is a journey that Stolas only begins at the end of the episode. By then, Stolas still isn't okay, but he begins to come to terms with the fact that that's alright. And he does this by allowing Blitz to sit in silence with him, to dance with him, to pry a laugh from him, to hold him without any expectations of being held back. The final scene of the episode is all about them both being okay even though Stolas isn't. We see this in the fact that Stolas lets himself stay in Blitz's arms, going as far as closing his eyes. He's there. He's finally in the moment. He's finally allowing the "not okay" feelings in his body to just be.

The Stolitz Montage song ends with:

You put one foot in front of the other

Then you take it day by day

Knowing you got nothing

You still got each other

Ooooh-oh oooh ooh

Again, most of these lines do match Stolas' emotional state. In fact, the notion of just living life one day at a time, just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, is very representative of what a depressive episode can and does feel like.

But, in the very last line, the song shifts right back to a reassuring tone: "you still got each other".

Now, not only does the hopeful, optimistic sentiment of this line belong—once again—to Blitz's emotional state, it also goes directly against what the emotional arc of the episode aims to achieve.

Sinsmas isn't about them having each other—Sinsmas is about Stolas having Blitz.

It takes him all episode to realise this, too. At the beginning, when the montage takes place, Stolas is just going through the motions. As stated above, he's just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other—he's fully on survival mode. During the fight with Andrealphus, Stolas is shocked that Blitz came to save him, that he risked his life. That is the moment Stolas begins to truly comprehend that he can lean on Blitz. And then, after they get home, he slowly continues to learn it, as explained above. By the end of the episode, he's only just starting to allow himself to lean emotionally on Blitz.

And significantly, Blitz doesn't lean on Stolas. Because he's at a very different part of his own character arc, and he already had his opportunity to lean emotionally on those around him with Millie in Ghostfuckers, and to a lesser extent, with all his employees during their mission on Sinsmas.

Blitz has gone through enough pain, character growth, and healing to both understand exactly where Stolas is at, and be able to meet him there and be a rock for Stolas to lean on.

So the reason that line—that last line, positioned strategically to drive home its message that it's all gonna be okay—doesn't work for the montage is twofold. Firstly, because Stolas isn't ready to see that he has Blitz. Secondly, because it is now Blitz's turn to give comfort without needing to receive it in exchange.

And, if we take a look at the whole song, the reason it doesn't work for the scene is because it doesn't meet Stolas where he's at. The song says, "yes, you're sad, but—" and shifts to optimism. It doesn't fully allow Stolas to simply not be okay. To not be there yet. It doesn't fully allow his depression to just suck. The feelings of sadness and overwhelmingness are shadowed by a positivity and hope that belong to Blitz, and not Stolas.

Let's now take a look at Day By Day, and at which ideas from the original song were kept, which ones were changed, how, and why it works:

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You take it day by day

You got everything that you had thought you wanted

But you still feel so blue

And you don't know what to do

Right off the bat, the lyrics are very similar in tone to the ones at the beginning of Stolitz Montage. Once again, a lyrical voice in the second person describes Stolas' emotional state: he's blue (sad), he's taking it day by day.

But there's already a change. "You have everything you thought you wanted, but you still feel so blue".

The fact that Stolas had always wanted a life with Blitz is something the previous song doesn't touch on whatsoever. And it matters, because "what Stolas thought he wanted" is a central part of his arc in the episode. It comes back during his breakdown at the office: "and I did it for what?! These stupid, foolish fantasies?" And it comes back again when Blitz saves him from Andrealphus, and when Blitz dances with him and their eyes meet afterwards.

As stated above, this is the episode where it dawns on Stolas that he has Blitz. But he isn't there yet at the beginning of the episode, and so he still believes what he and Blitz had was just a fantasy of his. And because he's never had anything with Blitz that wasn't a fantasy, because fantasy is all he knows, he doesn't immediately know what to do with the real thing. With the domesticity, and the errands. He doesn't recognise the signs Blitz is sending his way that he's got Blitz to lean on.

These two lines are also important because they bring forth another aspect of depression that the previous song doesn't: that love doesn't cure depression, or make it magically go away. That going cold turkey on your meds and having a massive depressive episode is going to suck no matter how many good things you have in this life, because depression is a biological process, not a state of mind. Depression takes away your ability to find joy in things that used to bring you it. It takes away your feelings, your energy, your strength.

Notice that Stolas doesn't seem apathetic or hollow inside on the night of the trial and the morning after. Yes, he's had his title and power stripped, he's been physically assaulted in the street, and yes, he's worried about Octavia. Obviously, he shows signs of being dissociated, and he's exhausted. But, emotionally, he's still hanging on. He still thanks Blitz for everything, and he talks to Blitz in the morning, and smiles when Blitz offers to get him rats. Before the effects of going cold turkey on his meds start to kick in, he's grateful to be around Blitz.

It's during the montage, as the days go by, that he starts feeling blue. Because depression is very quickly taking away the joy he found in Blitz's company.

And that's why, even in the first few lines, this song conveys Stolas' state of mind so much better than the previous one. Because while the message in Stolitz Montage was "yes, you're sad, but—", the message in Day By Day is "yes, you should be happy, but."

It lets the sad win over the happy. It lets depression take Stolas down with it, it lets him feel helpless and lost. "You still feel so blue, and you don't know what to do."

The song continues:

You're sitting at the end of the rainbow, but the pain grows

And you can't help let the strain show

'Cause what else are you to do?

These lines emphasise the ideas presented in the previous ones: that Stolas should be happy, but he isn't. That the pain that has planted itself in Stolas is growing. So much so that he can't help but let it show.

Stolas' helplessness, his slow descent into misery, are given the room to exist. Everything around him seems fine, but he's not fine. And he's not told that it's okay to not be fine. Because this is Stolas' emotional state we're exploring, and for him, it's not okay to not be fine right now. He's too busy going through the motions to grant himself that kind of mercy.

The song finishes:

Keep it calm, life goes on, and on, and on

Nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong

So why do I still feel this way?

Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh

You take it day by day

And, much like in the previous song, we get a small hint of what could be interpreted either as advice/reassurance from the lyrical voice, or as Stolas actively telling himself to pretend to be okay. "keep it calm, life goes on, nothing's wrong". In this case, though, I lean towards the latter interpretation for a very simple reason: the next line shifts to first person. "So why do I still feel this way?"

And that's the thing: once again, the hope and calm he's trying to make himself feel are immediately overpowered by his feelings of sadness. Once again, it's the sadness that wins over, and not the happiness. His depression is given room to drag him down, take him slowly towards rock bottom.

And once again, the last line—at least the last one before the chorus is repeated—is used to drive home the message of the song. But this time, the message is that, despite it all, despite having what he wanted, despite sitting at the end of the rainbow, despite trying to convince himself he's okay, he still feels sad. Because that's what depression does. No matter how many good things you have in your life, it drags you down.

And that message, in that last line, is delivered in the form of a question. "Why do I still feel this way?" This matters for two reasons. The first one is that it shows that Stolas isn't (fully) aware of what's happening to him. He obviously knows he needs his meds, he knows he should be taking them. We see him reach out for them. But he is also living his emotions, and not just experiencing them from the outside. And as the emotions take over, he loses perspective of where they come from, too caught up in how they're drowning him.

The second reason this matters is because the song and the lyrical voice don't offer Stolas answers.

In Stolitz Montage, Stolas gets an answer to his struggle: that, ultimately, [Blitz and Stolas] still got each other.

But in Day By Day, all Stolas gets are questions. What else are you to do? Why do I still feel this way?

Day By Day meets Stolas where he's at during the days leading up to Sinsmas after the trial. It allows for these questions to exist without an answer; it lets the answers come later in the episode. It lets his journey through the episode play out, allowing him to learn that he has Blitz, that he needs his meds, and that he has to be okay with the fact that things are not okay.

By the end of the episode, he can acknowledge that he made his choices and has to deal with the consequences. He starts to understand Blitz is by his side, willing to help him through this. That his relationship with Blitz might not feel like he thought it would, because he's too mentally ill and heart-broken to be there—but that they still have each other, they still love each other, and they'll be okay.

But during the montage, he's not there yet, and it wouldn't make sense for the song to be there, either.

So, yes, as cute and optimistic as Stolitz Montage is, and as glad as I am they released it anyways for us to enjoy, I believe the writers made the right decision by scrapping it for the episode.

If you read this far, thank you for your time! Please treat yourself to a glass of water for me, and feel free to share your thoughts ❤️

[aliicent]

Maybe an unpopular opinion, but I don't get why there are so many people saying ser. Criston is Dornish. I mean, technically he is not (?) House Cole serves the house Dondarrion, which is settled at the Stormlands. Okay, so at this point in history, Dorne still resists the Targaryen conquest, so whenever ser. Criston says he fought at the Dornish Marches he actually meant he was fighting against the Dornish!  And I really don't see why would he cherish the Dornish culture as people appear to think he would/should. The only thing he says that may contribute to this idea is that the Sunspear's port deeply well, but even then what he really says is that he was a soldier at the stormlands and that he knows the sunspear's port deeply well. Ok, now regarding his appearance (on the show): Blackhaven is located at the Marches which is a border region (a quite conflicting one), so we can speculate that maybe the people in that region may resemble both the people of Dorne, and the people of Stormsland. Or we may speculate that maybe his mother was Dornish. And we can reflect upon what all of that would mean, but I really don't see why should we face ser. Criston as an attempt to represent the Dornish culture :/

[laniidae-passerine]

don’t get how you can watch iwtv and be a sincere diehard lestat hater. like the world’s biggest lestat hater is louis and that man can’t even commit to it for more than five minutes before literally hallucinating lestat wearing a wedding ring and talking pretty to him. this show is about louis and every road leads back to lestat for that man

[rukafais]

Thinking about the time I saw people getting pissy about "how dare ra salvatore claim he created the drow in forgotten realms! he's being so domineering!" and its like He did though. He literally did. Drizzt Do'urden of House Do'Urden from Menzoberranzan is the progenitor of every other drow in Forgotten Realms literally ever, because that was what they asked him to do as a result of suggesting a drow sidekick who became more popular than the actual protagonist for his novels. All drow lore in Forgotten Realms is quite literally in conversation, or opposition, to him because it's a giant group project and the novels ran alongside the gameline. You get a narrow view of drow worldbuilding from Drizzt's perspective because They Wanted You To Buy The Sourcebooks And The Peripherals. Ed Greenwood's Drow of the Underdark sourcebook explicitly references Drizzt and tells you to look at the Drizzt novels for more stuff because it's all in service to the Dungeons and Dragons brand ahhhhh

[sapphiresaphics]

I’m going to tell you a very important and personal story about my life.

When I was a bratty teenager, my mother slapped me.

Now my mother NEVER disciplined me that way, ever. My family was big on not using violence as a form of punishment. I was never spanked, I was never abused. By all accounts I grew up in a very loving family and got along well with my parents.

But on this particular day, I was not handling things well at all and I was lashing out in ways that were distressing my mom. And suddenly in a moment of absolute frustration at how difficult I was being… she slapped me.

Both of us were stunned by it. My mother had never raised a hand to me ever. I could see the tears in her eyes as she realized what she had done, and she quickly removed herself from the situation while I sat there in silence alone for quite a while.

Neither one of us ever spoke about it. She never apologized to me, and I never apologized to her. It’s always been this one unspoken thing about our relationship.

I tell you this story because I think it’s important to understanding that despite this one moment of violence I experienced from my mother, I still love her and have a great relationship with her to this day. One violent act does not sever me from the people I love. Even if we never speak of it, we both know and understand completely what happened and why. We are capable of forgiving and understanding each other.

So when I watch that scene with Caitlyn and Vi, I can see that Caitlyn is very clearly trying to remove herself from an intense situation where her emotions are running wild and she’s clearly not processing them in a healthy way. And I’m seeing that Vi is actively stopping her from leaving to get a moment to cool down and collect herself. And in that moment of heightened frustration and emotion disregulation I see Caitlyn use the butt of her gun to forcefully remove Vi from holding her back.

Just like my mom when she slapped me when I was making it impossible for her to process things.

And in Caitlyn’s eyes I see the same instant regret and realization that she just did something truly unthinkable that I saw in my mother’s eyes.

My point in all this is that I personally have experienced something like what happened to Vi first hand and I’m able to understand why it happened and know, without words, that everyone involved is regretful of it happening and we’re still able to love each other. Because we’re adults. It doesn’t change that at the time it hurt, but one act isn’t enough to make me forsake my family or my love for my mom.

And Vi, who has the biggest heart in the world, clearly forgives Caitlyn for what happened too. And Caitlyn, for her part, makes amends for it too by letting her anger for Jinx go and lets Vi choose to save her sister. That’s infinitely more than anything I got from my own mother lol

I just feel like people are being WAY too judgmental and quick to write Caitlyn off as an abuser, or a terrible partner, or whatever… when reality is often far more complicated and complex to deal with. And I genuinely DO believe (from firsthand experience) that frequency of the act DOES play a role.

for my own sanity, i try to stay away from caitvi discourse, but it’s truly baffling that some people still actively defend caitlyn hitting vi and are "dumbfounded" that it is enough for people to stop shipping them and voice their discontent about their relationship in s2.

one of the most common and dumb defenses i’ve seen is that caitlyn only hit vi once, as if the frequency of the act changes its nature. even a single instance of violence is still violence. highlighting that it happened only once does not negate its significance. it still happened, and it still matters. really, it's simple ...

but the dumbest attempt to defend this moment is comparing caitvi to other ships in arcane, when no other relationship in the series has a similar dynamic. in other pairings that involve physical conflict, both characters fight back or retaliate in some way, whether it’s jinx and ekko, viktor and jayce, or even vander and silco. but caitlyn hitting vi is entirely one-sided. vi does not hit back, and it is not framed as a fight. this moment is not a confrontation between equals but an instance of caitlyn exerting power over vi, someone who has already been through a lot of trauma (years of imprisonment and being beaten by enforcers), which caitlyn is very aware of.

but that’s if you watch arcane as a whole and not just for the relationship, because caitlyn hitting vi is a moment charged with systemic inequality. caitlyn represents the very institution that destroyed vi’s life. when she strikes her, it's not just an individual betrayal, it echoes the violence of an entire system that has oppressed zaunites for generations. it’s impossible to disregard that the historical and social power imbalance makes the scene feel so disturbing if you actually watch the show with your eyes open.

and it’s a major red flag. for caitlyn to hit vi, knowing what she has been through, is not just an act of violence but one that disregards the weight of vi’s suffering. she fails to see vi fully, not just as somebody willing to help her, a potential partner, or a fighter, but as someone wounded by her past.

also, i take back what i said about the dumbest attempt to defend this scene being comparing caitvi to other ships. the dumbest one is when people minimize caitlyn's action by defending the enforcers in general ... because no, the idea that the backlash against caitlyn hitting vi in arcane is simply a matter of an “american lens” is dumb asf. a lot of what's in the show mirrors the kind of systemic violence seen in many parts of the world, not just in the usa. y'all are not exceptional. class struggles, institutionalized oppression, and the abuse of power by those who hold privilege aren't exclusive to america. please wake up. these are themes that transcend national and cultural boundaries. vi’s trauma from imprisonment is not an american experience alone. the psychological and physical toll of being incarcerated is universal. how dumb do you have to be to actually think otherwise?

anyway, even if i don’t like that arcane didn’t frame caitlyn’s action as a serious issue and that it is treated as just another moment in their relationship, the willingness to ignore or rationalize it says more about the fandom’s biases than the actual content of the show imo ...