#treasure hunting and side quests
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dourpeep · 2 years ago
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u know if I could drop everything and not have to worry about money or safety or hygiene or didn't have an underlying but also inexplicable fear of being too close to a horse in unpredictable conditions I'd make like a tree and go on an adventure
like just up and leave bye I'm becoming a nomadic cowboy I already have like half of it down, but not the real important parts
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adhd-merlin · 1 year ago
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fandom ask game: 9 - Funniest character
okay, no one asked but I've been dying to say this:
Arthur is funny. ARTHUR IS FUNNY. Not just in a comic relief kind of way (although Bradley delivers in spades when it comes to making silly faces), I mean he has a delightfully wry sense of humour, and I don't think it's appreciated enough.
I think Gaius is also hilarious, but in a different way (trolling people).
↳ ask me questions from the frankie ask game 💌
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creepyjirachi · 1 year ago
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guess who is attempting to 100% endless ocean and endless ocean 2 :)
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claired3lune · 1 year ago
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I've never put as much effort into a video game as I am with rdr2
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writingwithfolklore · 8 months ago
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5 Tips for Creating Intimidating Antagonists
Antagonists, whether people, the world, an object, or something else are integral to giving your story stakes and enough conflict to challenge your character enough to change them. Today I’m just going to focus on people antagonists because they are the easiest to do this with!
1. Your antagonist is still a character
While sure, antagonists exist in the story to combat your MC and make their lives and quest difficult, they are still characters in the story—they are still people in the world.
Antagonists lacking in this humanity may land flat or uninteresting, and it’s more likely they’ll fall into trope territory.
You should treat your antagonists like any other character. They should have goals, objectives, flaws, backstories, etc. (check out my character creation stuff here). They may even go through their own character arc, even if that doesn’t necessarily lead them to the ‘good’ side.
Really effective antagonists are human enough for us to see ourselves in them—in another universe, we could even be them.
2. They’re… antagonistic
There’s two types of antagonist. Type A and Type B. Type A antagonist’s have a goal that is opposite the MC’s. Type B’s goal is the same as the MC’s, but their objectives contradict each other.
For example, in Type A, your MC wants to win the contest, your antagonist wants them to lose.
In Type B, your MC wants to win the contest, and your antagonist wants to win the same contest. They can’t both win, so the way they get to their goal goes against each other.
A is where you get your Draco Malfoy’s, other school bullies, or President Snow’s (they don’t necessarily want what the MC does, they just don’t want them to have it.)
B is where you get the other Hunger Games contestants, or any adventure movie where the villain wants the secret treasure that the MCs are also hunting down. They want the same thing.
3. They have well-formed motivations
While we as the writers know that your antagonist was conceptualized to get in the way of the MC, they don’t know that. To them, they exist separate from the MC, and have their own reasons for doing what they do.
In Type A antagonists, whatever the MC wants would be bad for them in some way—so they can’t let them have it. For example, your MC wants to destroy Amazon, Jeff Bezos wants them not to do that. Why not? He wants to continue making money. To him, the MC getting what they want would take away something he has.
Other motivations could be: MC’s success would take away an opportunity they want, lose them power or fame or money or love, it could reveal something harmful about them—harming their reputation. It could even, in some cases, cause them physical harm.
This doesn’t necessarily have to be true, but the antagonist has to believe it’s true. Such as, if MC wins the competition, my wife will leave me for them. Maybe she absolutely wouldn’t, but your antagonist isn’t going to take that chance anyway.
In Type B antagonists, they want the same thing as the MC. In this case, their motivations could be literally anything. They want to win the competition to have enough money to save their family farm, or to prove to their family that they can succeed at something, or to bring them fame so that they won’t die a ‘nobody’.
They have a motivation separate from the MC, but that pesky protagonist keeps getting in their way.
4. They have power over the MC
Antagonists that aren’t able to combat the MC very well aren’t very interesting. Their job is to set the MC back, so they should be able to impact their journey and lives. They need some sort of advantage, privilege, or power over the MC.
President Snow has armies and the force of his system to squash Katniss. She’s able to survive through political tension and her own army of rebels, but he looms an incredibly formidable foe.
Your antagonist may be more wealthy, powerful, influential, intelligent, or skilled. They may have more people on their side. They are superior in some way to the protagonist.
5. And sometimes they win
Leading from the last point, your antagonists need wins. They need to get their way sometimes, which means your protagonist has to lose. You can do a bit of a trade off that allows your protagonist to lose enough to make a formidable foe out of their antagonist, but still allows them some progress using Fortunately, Unfortunately.
It goes like… Fortunately, MC gets accepted into the competition. Unfortunately, the antagonist convinces the rest of the competitors to hate them. Fortunately, they make one friend. Unfortunately, their first entry into the competition gets sabotaged. Fortunately, they make it through the first round anyway, etc. etc.
An antagonist that doesn’t do any antagonizing isn’t very interesting, and is completely pointless in their purpose to heighten stakes and create conflict for your protagonist to overcome. We’ll probably be talking about antagonists more soon!
Anything I missed?
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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months ago
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Deep Dive (m) | knj
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You’ve been searching for gemstones deep on the seabed— having found a broken piece of blue aquamarine. Searching for the missing piece and your new rival, you find it and much more with the blue tailed merman Namjoon while on a quest for crystals.
→ Pairing: namjoon x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au, soulmate!au → Trope: strangers to lovers → Genres: fluff, smut, angst + a very small sprinkle of comedy → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 19.8k → Warnings (general) + triggers: not much, honestly it’s all very very fluffy, lovey dovey and cute (you’ll probably get a cavity). There’s also a lot more lore and worldbuilding in this one compared to the others, as this is the first time we’re properly introduced to the seacity🧜It’s also rather existential and philosophical.  → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (please be safe), oral (male and female), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, love making, kissing, breast play (licking, sucking, biting), handjob, fingering, clit play, hair pulling, creampie, very brief cockwarming. → Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note(1): I really don’t know what happened when writing this one; my fingers totally slipped and most of this is just world building 🫣 At least I had a shit ton of fun writing it! I tried to make the smut a bit different than I normally do, because I just feel like what I write is getting very repetitive… So I tried changing the pace of it a bit, but I don't know if it worked or not. Anyway, I really hope you like this one too, and I managed to finish it before Namjoon’s birthday, which means I’ll release it on that day 🥳 Please do let me know what, and if you liked it, and if you’re excited for the rest of the mermaid stories ✨
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[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭
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The boat sways gently with the rhythm of the waves, each crest and trough sending a flutter through your stomach, a tantalizing whisper of the adventure awaiting below. The sea has always been your muse, its vast, enigmatic depths a sanctuary where you’ve carved out your own livelihood. As a freelance scuba diver, you descend into the ocean’s embrace, hunting for hidden treasures—crystals and gems, and occasionally, the rarest of finds. These treasures are not just artifacts; they are fragments of the earth’s ancient soul, preserved in the watery depths.
Hae, your best friend and partner in this aquatic quest, stands beside you, her hands steady as she helps you prepare for the dive. She runs a holistic and spiritual webshop called Soulful, a name that seems to capture the essence of her being—a blend of spirituality, sustainability, and an eye for the aesthetically divine. The gems and crystals you unearth find their way into her shop, where they are revered not just for their beauty, but for the energy they carry. The world has turned its gaze towards the mystical these days, and her shop has become a beacon for those seeking solace and healing in the arms of nature.
With your wetsuit snug against your skin, fins secured, and the weight of the oxygen tanks settling on your back, you feel the familiar thrill course through you. Hae hands you your goggles with a smile, and before placing the mouthpiece between your lips, you flash her a grin. “See you soon,” you say, voice laced with excitement. The small tool bag—your fanny pack of excavation tools—rests comfortably at your side, ready to assist in your quest for nature’s buried wonders.
You take a deep breath and plunge into the ocean, the water swallowing you with a resonant splash. As you breach the surface, your arms stretch forward, parting the water with a smooth, practiced motion. The ocean welcomes you, wrapping you in its cool, serene embrace. Here, beneath the waves, you are home, surrounded by the vibrant tapestry of sea life. Jellyfish drift by, their tendrils trailing like delicate threads of silk, while schools of tiny fish scatter at your approach, shimmering in the filtered sunlight that dances through the water. Deeper you dive, into the world where time slows, and the ocean whispers secrets long forgotten by the surface. The seafloor is a hidden gallery of nature’s artistry, where crystals and gems lie in wait, forged over eons by the earth’s elemental forces. Each one tells a story—of undersea volcanoes, tectonic pressures, and the alchemical dance of minerals. Hae often speaks of these gems as if they are living beings, infused with the spirit of the ocean itself, each one a relic of the deep’s quiet, patient creation.
You smile to yourself, recalling her poetic musings, almost as if you were reading straight from her website. But you know the truth behind the beauty—these crystals, formed through evaporation, precipitation, and the intricate dance of minerals, are more than just pretty stones. They are pieces of the earth’s heart, shaped by the hands of time and nature’s immense power. Sodium, magnesium, calcium, potassium—their chemical symphony plays out in each crystal, each gem a unique testament to the forces that birthed it.
To you, they are not just beautiful—they are a testament to the majesty of the natural world, a tangible link to the planet’s deep, unspoken history. Hae’s customers, too, are drawn to this connection, to the knowledge that each crystal was not mined en masse, but discovered and unearthed by your hands alone. This makes each piece not only ethically sourced but also one-of-a-kind, carrying with it a story that can never be replicated. And then, there’s the healing. The myriad of spiritual properties attributed to these gems opens another world entirely, one that you and Hae have only begun to explore. It’s a world where science and spirituality entwine, where the physical and the metaphysical dance in harmony. But for now, as you dive deeper into the ocean’s embrace, you’re content to simply marvel at nature’s handiwork, knowing that whatever treasures you find will carry a piece of this underwater realm back to the surface.
A glint catches your eye in the distance, a shimmer that pulls you deeper into the ocean’s embrace. You’ve lost track of how far you’ve dived—perhaps just a few meters, or maybe more. Time seems to stretch and compress down here, as fluid as the water around you. A quick glance at your watch reveals that only ten minutes have passed, but you know you must be mindful of the oxygen left in your tank. Still, the ocean’s siren call urges you onward, tempting you with secrets yet to be unveiled.
Something blue sparkles ahead, its brilliance cutting through the murky depths, and you find yourself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Your body moves with the fluidity of the water, each motion a dance of instinct and harmony. Down here, you’re not just an explorer—you’re a part of the ocean itself, swaying gently in time with the currents. The source of the light reveals itself as you approach a small rock formation, where gems of varying shades of blue glisten like forgotten stars scattered across the ocean floor. Aquamarine, calcite, and amazonite—Hae’s voice echoes in your mind, recalling the knowledge she’s shared with you. Aquamarine, the “Sea Water Stone,” born from the cooling magma of the earth’s depths, its color an echo of the ocean’s own hues. It’s a stone that calms the mind, eases stress, and sharpens communication, a talisman of courage and clarity. Blue calcite, a crystal forged from calcium, carbon, and oxygen, soothes like a lullaby, its gentle presence calming nerves and quieting anxieties. It also opens the mind’s eye, enhancing intuition and inner vision. And then there’s amazonite, a gem you’ve always favored. Its cool blue-green tones speak to your soul, a “Stone of Courage” that promotes truth, honor, and positive communication. It balances the masculine and feminine energies within, weaving harmony into the fabric of life. You reach out, your fingers brushing the rough texture of the rock, marveling at the beauty before you.
Carefully, you pull out your tools—a smooth flat file and a soft silicone hammer—and begin to work. The gems yield to your skillful hands, and soon, you’ve gathered a small collection of aquamarine, blue calcite, and amazonite, each piece a perfect reflection of the ocean’s quiet majesty. You tuck them safely into your bag, their weight a comforting presence at your side.
But the ocean isn’t done with you yet. You swim further, your eyes scanning the seabed where kelp and other sea plants sway like ethereal dancers. A small cave catches your attention, its entrance barely large enough to accommodate you, but you’re compelled to explore. You squeeze through the narrow opening, and the sight that greets you steals your breath away.
Before you lies a treasure trove of green crystals, their surfaces shimmering like serpent scales. Serpentine—Hae has spoken of this gem, formed deep within the Earth’s mantle by the transformation of silicate minerals through water. This is your first time finding it, and you can’t help but marvel at its beauty, the green hues reminiscent of a forest hidden beneath the waves. You run your fingers over the rough surface, feeling the ancient energy thrumming within the stone. Carefully, you chip away a few pieces, their weight adding to the growing collection in your bag.
But the bag is heavy now, laden with the ocean’s gifts, and a glance at your watch tells you it’s time to return. With a reluctant sigh, you leave the cave behind, swimming back toward the surface, your heart still lingering in the depths. As you break through the water, the sunlight dazzles your eyes, and Hae is there, her hands reaching out to help you back onto the boat. The weight of your gear is a burden you’re glad to shed, and you push the bag toward her, eager to share your discoveries.
“Wow!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with wonder as she sifts through the gems. “You really found a lot—and serpentine? You’ve never found that before. My customers are going to be over the moon!”
Her excitement is infectious, and you can’t help but smile. “That makes it all worth it,” you say, pulling off your hydro fin shoes with a satisfied sigh. “But I’m keeping one piece of serpentine for myself—it’s too beautiful to part with.”
Hae nods, still mesmerized by the treasures you’ve brought to the surface. The joy in her eyes is a reflection of your own, and you feel a deep contentment settle over you. The ocean has shared its secrets with you once again, and as you breathe in the fresh air, you know that the bond you share with the sea is stronger than ever.
You sail home under the setting sun, the ocean’s breeze carrying with it the scent of salt and adventure. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the boat lulls you into a state of serene satisfaction. Back on land, you join Hae in her cozy apartment, where the warmth of the evening light filters through the windows. Her small photo studio, a creative sanctuary tucked into a corner, is ready for the treasures you’ve unearthed. Together, you arrange the crystals with care, each one glistening like a piece of the ocean’s soul captured in stone. The camera clicks, preserving the gems’ beauty for the world to see, as Hae’s artistic eye transforms them into visions of wonder. The process is swift but meaningful, a quiet ritual that binds your shared passions. Soon, the crystals will grace her webshop, ready to bring a touch of the sea’s magic to those who seek it.
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“This collection is huge, Namjoon,” Hoseok remarks with a warm smile, his gaze sweeping over the shimmering array of gems that adorn the older merman’s room. “There’s so much history embedded in these walls,” he adds, pointing to the meticulously arranged stones, and Namjoon feels a flush of pride rise to his cheeks. He’s poured countless hours into curating this collection, each gem—some calcite, larimar, jasper, peridotite, amazonite, and serpentine—bearing the weight of time and the ocean’s secrets.
Yoongi casts a sidelong glance at Namjoon and his prized collection, murmuring with a wry grin, “It’s impressive... but also incredibly dorky.”
Hoseok bursts into laughter, his joy so radiant that for a moment, Namjoon thinks they don’t need the sun in their underwater world—Hoseok’s light is enough to illuminate the depths.
“I’m not a dork,” Namjoon protests, crossing his arms over his bare torso in an attempt to feign indignation, but his stern expression does little to sway the younger mermen. Their laughter echoes through the water, a melody of friendship that only strengthens the bond between them.
“Nerd, then,” Hoseok offers through another burst of laughter, his voice rippling through the water like bubbles rising to the surface. Yoongi, ever the skeptic, merely rolls his eyes, already weary of the conversation. Namjoon can sense that Yoongi’s thoughts have drifted elsewhere—likely back to his bed, where he longs to sleep away the rest of the day. But Namjoon’s heart beats with a different rhythm, one that craves adventure. He usually embarks on treasure swims with his friend Soo-ah, but she’s preoccupied with her fiancé, Seokjin, as they prepare for their upcoming wedding.
Namjoon casts a glance at his friends, hoping they’ll soon take their leave so he can slip away into the inviting embrace of the sea. The room feels too small for his restless spirit, and the ocean beyond the walls calls to him like a siren’s song. He had initially invited them over for their monthly book club, but the gathering has devolved into something else entirely—Hoseok couldn’t stop laughing at the protagonist’s ridiculous misadventures, and Yoongi, true to form, had forgotten to read the book altogether. The story, plucked from the land above, strikes Hoseok as particularly odd and amusing, especially since he’s never set foot on land himself.
“Book club’s over, right?” Yoongi asks with a resigned sigh, his voice heavy with fatigue, as if the very mention of reading has drained him further.
“Yeah, but do try to read the next book for next month,” Namjoon chides gently, though he knows his words will likely fall on deaf ears. Yoongi merely shrugs, not even bothering to pick up the worn book as he drifts toward the door. Namjoon watches them go, rolling his eyes as Hoseok flashes him a soft smile and a thumbs-up before they swim off to their respective homes.
As their laughter fades into the distance, Namjoon finally feels the freedom to pursue the adventure that has been stirring within him all day. The sea awaits, vast and full of mysteries, and he is eager to explore its depths once more.
Namjoon exhales a deep sigh, the weight of his thoughts momentarily heavy, but he renews his energy by nibbling on some fresh kelp. The taste is crisp and briny, filling him with the vitality he needs for the journey ahead. With a determined glint in his eye, he slings his backpack over his shoulder and sets off on his adventure. The sea has always been his home, its vast expanse a comforting embrace. His parents, both scholars dedicated to preserving the rich history of their underwater city, have instilled in him a love for the past. But while they focus on teaching the young minds of the city, Namjoon’s heart has always been drawn to the secrets hidden within the earth—gems and stones that hold their own silent histories.
He propels himself forward, his baby blue tail cutting through the water with graceful precision. As he gathers speed, the fish scatter in a dazzling display, their scales catching the light as they dart away. The underwater world rushes past in a vibrant blur of color, until something shimmering in the distance catches his eye.
Ahead, perched on a rock formation, are gleaming clusters of calcite and aquamarine, their surfaces dancing with the light that filters through the water. The sun’s rays, fractured by the waves above, cast a spectrum of blues across the gems, making them shimmer like the sky at twilight. Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat, as it always does when faced with such natural beauty. Each gem is a masterpiece of time and pressure, a testament to the earth’s patient artistry. He reaches out, reverently running his fingers over the cool, smooth surfaces, feeling the ancient energy thrumming within them.
He pulls out his tools, careful not to disturb the surrounding environment, and begins to collect a few of the precious stones. As he works, he remembers Soo-ah and selects a particularly radiant piece to bring back to her, a token of their shared love for the ocean’s treasures.
But his heart skips a beat when he notices something unsettling—many of the gems have already been harvested, leaving only a few scattered remnants behind. A frown creases his brow as he wonders who could have beaten him to this spot. None of his friends share his passion for collecting gems. Sure, Taehyung enjoys gathering trinkets and curiosities, but stones have never been his interest. The thought of another collector in these waters feels strangely alien, a mystery that tugs at the edges of his mind.
Who else, he wonders, could be drawn to these underwater treasures with the same fervor that drives him?
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You find yourself submerged once more, the embrace of the ocean welcoming you into its depths as you embark on yet another treasure hunt, eager to unearth new crystals. Your path leads you back to the familiar cave where you previously discovered the serpentine and calcite, their beauty still vivid in your memory. Yet, something feels different this time—there are fewer crystals adorning the rock formation and scattered across the seabed. The ocean’s depths, a canvas for nature’s exquisite artistry, have always been a sanctuary for the many fascinating crystals that dwell there. But you’ve never encountered another diver who collects them as passionately as you do. The realization leaves you momentarily puzzled, until a flicker of purple catches your eye in the distance.
Intrigued, you glide through the water with graceful urgency, approaching the new discovery. As you draw closer, you recognize the delicate gray and rose-hued crystals as lepidolite, known for its ability to enhance astral travel and lucid dreaming. You’ve rarely come across these gems in your dives, and even now, only a few precious stones cling to the rock formation. Carefully, you retrieve your tools and begin to collect the lepidolite, tucking each piece into your bag with a sense of reverence.
Continuing along the seabed, you pass by schools of vibrant fish, their colors a blur of life around you, until something extraordinary catches your attention—massive aquamarine crystals, far larger than any you’ve ever seen before. They seem to pulse with a quiet energy, drawing you in with their mesmerizing blue hue. As you approach with a gentle hand, you feel an inexplicable connection to the gems, as if they are whispering tales of the ocean’s mysteries and the magnificence of the world beneath the waves.
Gingerly, you touch the aquamarines, and a surge of calm washes over you, a tranquility deeper than anything you’ve ever experienced. The sensation is strange, yet profoundly soothing, as if the ocean itself is sharing its serenity with you. 
Taking your time, you inspect the crystals, standing tall on a rocky pedestal surrounded by pink sea bushes and kelp that sways in the water’s current. A few curious fish glide by as you carefully chip away at the base of the crystal, hoping to extract a substantial piece. When you finally succeed, you notice something peculiar—the crystal’s twin, the piece that once stood beside it, is missing. The jagged edge where it was removed is unmistakable. The question lingers in your mind, unsettling and persistent: Who has taken the other piece?
As you wonder who else might be drawn to the allure of these hidden gems, your hands continue their careful work, collecting a few more of the larger pieces, along with several smaller ones. You know that the smaller stones, though modest in size, still carry the same potent energy as their grander counterparts, and some people cherish them all the more for their delicate beauty. Each crystal, whether large or small, holds within it the ocean’s quiet wisdom, waiting to be shared.
Gently, you tuck the treasures into your bag, the weight of them a comforting reminder of the sea’s generosity. With a final, lingering glance at the shimmering aquamarines, you propel yourself upward, your body moving effortlessly through the water’s embrace. As you break through the surface, the world above greets you with a rush of air and sunlight. Hae is there, her arms open wide, her smile as warm as the sun. She helps you back into the boat, her touch gentle and reassuring, as if she understands the wonders you’ve just encountered below.
Once you’re back in the boat, the weight of your gear feels heavier than ever as you remove it, but your heart is light with the excitement of your discoveries. You eagerly reveal your treasures to Hae, each crystal glinting in the sunlight as you lay them before her. With a grin, you hold up the largest aquamarine, its cool blue depths mirroring the ocean below. “This one’s mine,” you declare, the gem feeling like a piece of the sea itself in your hand. But then your tone grows more serious as you add, “I think there’s another diver out there collecting gems. So many were missing from the formation.”
Hae’s eyes widen, her smile fading into a look of concern. You can almost see the wheels turning in her mind, already strategizing, perhaps even considering whether it’s time to move to a new, more secluded spot. The thought of competition makes her uneasy, her gaze drifting over the precious stones as if they might vanish any moment.
Sensing her anxiety, you place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” you say with quiet confidence. “I’ll dig around, find out who it is. We’ve come too far to let this unsettle us.” Your words are meant to calm her, to remind her that together, you’ve weathered challenges before. After all, her webshop, with its unique blend of spirituality and sustainability, has always stood out in a sea of imitators.
Hae exhales softly, her tension easing as she meets your gaze. “Okay, thank you,” she murmurs, her hands gently gathering the remaining crystals, leaving you with your cherished aquamarine. The stone gleams in your palm, a symbol of the bond between you and the sea, and now, a silent vow to protect what you’ve both worked so hard to build.
The pull of the ocean is undeniable, a quiet voice in the depths of your soul that beckons you toward the gem, as if it carries the very essence of the sea within its crystalline heart. You know instantly that this piece belongs by your side, a reminder of the ocean’s mysteries and your bond with its vast, hidden world. The sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the water as you sail back to shore, the quiet lapping of waves a soothing lullaby.
Returning to your apartment, you flick on the light, the familiar space bathed in a soft glow as you carefully place your ocean gift on the nightstand beside your bed. The gem catches the light, its surface shimmering like the sea at dawn. With a contented sigh, you brush your teeth, the routine grounding you after the day’s adventure. But as you lay in bed, your mind drifts back to the ocean, and sleep comes quickly, filled with dreams of underwater realms and the treasures that lie beneath.
Yet, even in sleep, a question nags at you. For days, the mystery has lingered in your thoughts—who could be venturing into the depths to collect gems alongside you? Your research has led you nowhere, each inquiry a dead end. No diver you know is as daring, or perhaps as mad, as you, willing to plunge into the ocean’s deepest reaches. The puzzle gnaws at you, an itch you can’t quite scratch, and the frustration builds like a storm on the horizon. It feels as if the answer is just out of reach, hidden beneath the waves, and the more you dwell on it, the more it drives you to the edge of your patience, a riddle you are desperate to unravel.
Driven by a spark of determination, you’ve hatched a bold plan—to dive back into the depths and catch the mysterious intruder who’s been claiming your precious gems. Hae thinks it’s a dumb idea, but she indulges you, knowing your spirit is as restless as the ocean itself. And so, once again, you find yourself out on the boat, with Hae in the vast expanse of the ocean under the midday sun. The boat sways gently, a rhythmic dance on the water’s surface as you methodically pull on your gear—your oxygen tanks, goggles, and hydro fins. The final touch is your backpack, securely fastened to the tank, ready to hold whatever treasures you might uncover.
With purpose in your heart and a steely resolve, you press your arms together and plunge into the ocean’s embrace. The world above fades away as you descend into the deep, your body slicing through the water with graceful determination. Thoughts of the smaller boats you saw earlier linger in your mind, fueling your hope that this dive will lead you to your elusive rival.
As you dive deeper, the current cradles you, guiding your body as you sway with the ocean’s rhythm, until you reach the seabed. The familiar terrain unfolds before you, a place you’ve visited many times, yet now it feels different, touched by the presence of another. Only a few small gems remain, their glint a reminder of what’s been taken. You scan your surroundings—kelp sways like dancers in the current, fish dart about in a symphony of colors—but no sign of competition yet.
Undeterred, you press on, swimming further along the seabed, following the contours of rocky formations. Your heart quickens as you reach a familiar spot, the place where you once unearthed a magnificent aquamarine. But as you approach, your breath catches—the rock’s surface is nearly barren, the aquamarine all but vanished, save for a few remaining shards that catch the light. Your fingers hover over the stone, tracing the empty space where the gems once gleamed, now a haunting reminder of what’s been lost to unseen hands.
A sudden jolt, like a spark of electricity, tingles through your fingertips, and before you can react, a blur of blue fills your vision, distorting the world around you. You blink rapidly, trying to clear the haze, but it remains—an ethereal presence in the water. Then, you feel a light, almost playful poke against your cheek, and a startled scream escapes into your mouthpiece, sending a cascade of bubbles spiraling upwards.
Instinctively, you jerk backward, heart pounding, as you struggle to comprehend what’s before you. No—this can’t be real. It’s not another diver. It’s not even human.
In front of you, suspended in the water like a living dream, is a merman. His face, heart-shaped and adorned with eyes like dragon-like darkened amber, is framed by short, blue hair that floats gently around his soft cheeks, jawline and pointed chin. Thin soft eyebrows arch over those wide, curious eyes—eyes that seem to hold all the wonder of the deep. His lips, thick and juicy are slightly parted in a soft ‘o,’ convey a mix of curiosity and surprise. Your gaze travels over his tall frame down to his bare chest, lean and strong, and then to the tail—an iridescent baby blue, shimmering with every subtle movement, a perfect extension of the ocean’s beauty. 
A wiggling tail instead of legs.
You blink again, desperate to make sense of the vision before you. A merman… It has to be.
He drifts closer, his tail flicking gracefully as he reaches out to poke your chin once more, his voice resonating through the water with an almost melodic quality. “Are you human?” he asks, his tone gentle yet filled with the wonder of a child discovering something new.
Your mind races, and you nod frantically, unable to speak with the mouthpiece still in your mouth, your feet paddling in the water as you fight to steady yourself. The reality of the moment crashes over you like a wave—this is no fantasy. A merman is right in front of you.
As your gaze falls on the backpack strapped to his shoulders, you notice a subtle shimmer, a gleam of something precious. In that instant, the pieces fall into place—he’s the one. He’s the mysterious collector, your unexpected rival in this underwater hunt for gems.
“I’ve seen humans before,” he continues, his voice carrying an almost casual tone as he swims around you, studying you like a creature from another world, “but I’ve never seen one dressed like you.”
Your heart aches to respond, to ask a million questions, but with the mouthpiece in place, all you can do is let him circle you, his eyes filled with an innocent fascination. The silence between you is heavy with unspoken words, each glance exchanged like a whispered secret between the ocean and the sun.
As you take in the sight before you, your eyes are drawn to a necklace resting against his chest, the small piece of aquamarine nestled between the firm contours of his titties—chest, you mean chest! The gem, cradled in the hollow where his muscles meet, glimmers softly, almost as if it’s alive with the very essence of the sea. You can’t help but stare in awe, the allure of it tugging at something deep within you. Thank heavens for your goggles, masking the blush that would otherwise give away your wandering thoughts.
“You look funny,” he remarks, his voice laced with innocent curiosity as he reaches out to grab one of your hydro fin shoes. The unexpected touch throws you off balance, and for a moment, you find yourself flipping weightlessly in the water, your body twisting like a leaf caught in a gentle current.
“Is this supposed to be like a mermaid’s tail?” he asks, holding your foot aloft as though it were some ancient relic to be deciphered. His brow furrows in concentration, and you can’t help but feel a mix of amusement and bewilderment at the sight.
Instinctively, you jerk your foot back, breaking free from his grasp, and you push against the water with frantic kicks, a glance at your watch reminding you that time is running out. As much as you wish to linger here, captivated by the merman’s presence, the pressing need to return to the surface propels you upward.
“Hey! Where’re you going?” he calls after you, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation, but you’re already too focused on reaching the surface to notice the distress in his expression. The thought of what could happen if you don’t make it in time isn’t one you’re willing to entertain.
Breaking through the water’s surface, you take off the mouthpiece and  gulp in fresh air, scanning the horizon until you spot your boat, a distant speck where Hae waits, the other vessels having long since disappeared. It seems manageable, this swim back to the boat, as long as you stay above water—your oxygen tank now empty, its weight a reminder of how close you cut it.
But before you can begin the swim, something solid collides with you, stopping you in your tracks. “Ow,” you exclaim, startled as you float backward, only to find yourself face to face with a familiar figure, his blue hair dripping wet above the waves.
“Hi,” the merman says with a smile, his dimples appearing like little pools of light in the sun. The simple word carries a warmth that catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re lost in the easy charm of his grin, the ocean around you feeling suddenly smaller, as if it were just the two of you in this vast, endless world.
“Hi,” you greet him with a soft smile, still astonished that he followed you to the surface at all. A swirl of unspoken questions rises in your chest, but they tangle in your throat, leaving you staring at him, wide-eyed and speechless. The world seems to blur, save for the merman before you, his wet blue hair plastered against his forehead, his dragon-like eyes sweeping over you with a curious intensity, as if he’s memorizing every detail.
“What’s all that stuff you’ve got on?” he asks, pointing a slender finger at your goggles and then at the oxygen tanks strapped securely to your back.
“These?” you say, finding your voice as you point to your goggles. “They help me see underwater,” you pause, feeling the weight of the tanks pulling at your shoulders, “And these let me breathe while I dive—they hold the oxygen I need when I’m down there.” You gesture to the tanks behind you, your explanation feeling small in the face of his wide, unblinking curiosity.
He hums thoughtfully, nodding as if piecing together a puzzle. “Makes sense,” he says at last, though his gaze strays past you, catching sight of Hae waving from the boat that rocks gently on the surface, her silhouette framed by the scorching sun.
“I... I have to get back,” you mumble, pointing toward your friend, the words feeling heavy as they leave your lips. You try to steady your thoughts, but they swirl like the currents beneath the sea, a thousand questions dancing just beneath the surface, questions you don’t quite dare to voice.
“Okay,” he says, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—hesitation, perhaps. “But before you go…” His voice halts your movements, drawing you back to him like the pull of the tide. You turn toward him again, heart fluttering in the quiet space between you, as if the ocean itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what comes next.
“What’s your name?” His voice is soft, carrying a gentleness that ripples through the water.
“It’s ___,” you reply, offering him a smile that’s both shy and warm.
“That’s pretty,” he says, and when his lips part into a smile, his dimples carve deep into his cheeks, making him almost impossibly cute, but dangerously so. 
“I’m Namjoon.” 
His name lingers between you like a secret, sweet and mysterious. “Will I see you again?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, his brow raised in curious hope.
You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face, the warmth filling your chest. There’s something about him—this enchanting creature of the deep—that makes you feel drawn in, like the tide itself is pulling you closer. You nod, the joy bubbling up inside you as you answer, “See you later, Namjoon.” There’s more than one reason you want to see him again. The unspoken questions whirl in your mind, but there’s also the thrill—because maybe, just maybe, you want to get your hands on the best crystals before he does.
As you turn and swim back toward Hae, your thoughts a mess of wonder and disbelief, a blush warms your cheeks. Did you just make a date with a merman? The thought sends a tingle of excitement through you. But when you glance back to where he was, Namjoon is already gone, having disappeared beneath the shimmering surface, like a dream fading with the dawn.
You finally make it to the boat, the sun still hanging high, bathing everything in golden light. As Hae helps you out of the water and hands you a towel, her eyes are wide with confusion. “Who was that? And how did he just vanish into the water like that, without any diving gear?”
“A merman,” you pant, peeling off your oxygen tanks and goggles. The words slip out of your mouth so naturally, like it’s something you’d say every day. Not the revelation of a magical creature, but a simple truth.
Hae stares at you, eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. “I’m sorry, what?”
“A merman,” you repeat, more firmly this time.
“A merman?” she echoes, her voice faint and incredulous, as if the very idea is too fantastical to grasp.
“Yes. A goddamn merman,” you say, grinning wide as you meet her disbelieving gaze. “Scaly tail and all.” And then the absurdity of it all hits you, and before you know it, you’re laughing—a bright, bubbling sound that lifts the tension from your chest.
Hae blinks, her mind racing to catch up with the truth you’ve laid before her. When she finally does, her gaze shifts to the shimmering crystals you’ve collected, and without another word, she turns the boat towards home, lost in thought as the ocean waves lap against the sides. And all you can do is sit there, the excitement of your encounter buzzing through your veins, as you wonder about the next time you’ll meet Namjoon beneath the waves.
The next time you set sail, the open sea stretching endlessly before you, a current of giddy anticipation courses through your veins. Thoughts of the blue-haired merman, Namjoon, fill your mind, sparking excitement deep within your chest. Will he be there today, waiting beneath the waves? You wish you could speak with him underwater, to ask him the thousand questions swirling in your heart, but the surface would have to do for now. You can’t help but smile at the thought of seeing him again.
Hae steers the boat through the shimmering water, the horizon vast and infinite. As you slip on your gear and dive beneath the surface, the ocean’s cool embrace pulls you into its depths. You swim purposefully, eyes scanning the underwater world, searching for both gems and a glimpse of Namjoon. 
Suddenly, something blue catches your eye, sparkling in the distance. Your pulse quickens as you think, just for a moment, that it might be him. But as you swim closer, your heart sinks—it’s only a cluster of aquamarine, glittering like pieces of fallen sky. You feel a bit foolish, letting your hopes get the better of you. Shaking off the disappointment, you turn your attention to the task at hand, collecting the gems with careful precision, though your thoughts continue to drift back to the mysterious merman.
You move to a new spot, finding a hidden cave adorned with larimar crystals. The stones are breathtaking—swirls of blue, white, and gray blending like waves crashing upon a shore, smooth and radiant. The sight brings a smile to your face, the beauty of the moment settling into your heart. You gently gather some of the crystals, placing them in your bag with reverence, as if each one carries a secret.
Just as you’re about to leave the cave, a shadow falls across the entrance. Your heart skips a beat, startled by the sudden presence. But then, the familiar voice reaches your ears, warm and apologetic, and you see him—Namjoon, his figure filling the space, his smile soft and full of quiet charm.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his hand nervously scratching the back of his head, his eyes filled with a gentle sincerity.
Relief washes over you, and with a playful wave of your hands, you signal that it’s okay—that he needn’t worry. How you wish you could speak to him down here, let your words float freely in the water like the bubbles escaping from your gear. But for now, your gestures will have to suffice. Your smile says the rest—you’re just glad to see him again.
“You’re collecting crystals, right?” Namjoon asks, his voice cutting through the liquid silence as he gestures toward your already bulging bag. You nod in response, still catching your breath from the weight of the gems you’ve gathered.
“Do you want me to show you a cave with lepidolite?” he mumbles, his tone casual but a bit uncertain. “They’re pretty rare, but I know of a cave that’s full of them.” For a fleeting moment, you wonder if this is the ocean’s version of Netflix and chill, the awkwardness of the offer landing with the charm of a bad pickup line. You can’t help but smile at the thought. 
Still, you nod, knowing that Hae would be thrilled to get her hands on more lepidolite, and besides, you’re curious. You figure underwater Netflix and chill is a bit different from what you’re used to anyway.
Namjoon leads the way, his brilliant blue tail weaving effortlessly through the water, shimmering like sunlight caught in a sapphire. You trail behind him, captivated by the rhythmic sway of his form, the way his muscles ripple across his broad back like waves sculpted by some divine hand. You can’t help but wonder—do they even have gyms down here? The sight of him, so fluid and powerful, is mesmerizing, and before you know it, time seems to slip away, your focus narrowing to the subtle dance of his movements.
“This is the cave,” he suddenly announces, pulling you out of your reverie. You hadn’t realized just how long you’d been swimming, utterly absorbed by the quiet beauty of the journey and him.
You follow him inside, and the sight that greets you takes your breath away—deep violet lepidolite, sparkling in the dim light like stars scattered across a twilight sky. You’re awestruck by the sheer abundance, the rare gems nestled into the cave walls as if nature had painted this secret world just for you.
“Beautiful, right?” Namjoon giggles softly, his voice echoing gently through the cavern as you nod, too taken by the sight to speak. You pull out your tools, carefully beginning to gather the precious stones, all while feeling the warmth of his gaze lingering on you. His silent watchfulness stirs a strange flustered feeling inside, like he’s studying you with the same intensity you’ve used to admire him.
Once your bag is heavy with lepidolite, Namjoon takes you on a quiet tour of other hidden gem spots. Each place he shows you feels like a secret whispered by the ocean itself, and soon your collection grows so large that the weight of it tugs at you, as if the sea itself is trying to pull you back down. When Namjoon offers to carry your bag, you try to refuse at first, clinging to your independence. But as your arms grow heavy, you relent, watching in awe as he effortlessly takes your overloaded bag, slinging it across his broad frame with ease. He carries it as though the weight is nothing, his strength as graceful as the tides themselves.
With a raised arm, you gesture that it’s time to surface—your oxygen running low, the familiar ache of needing air settling into your chest. He seems to understand immediately, and together you ascend, the world around you turning brighter as you rise toward the surface.
Breaking through the water, you gasp in the fresh air, peeling off your goggles and mouthpiece, eager to speak to him in the open air. Namjoon surfaces beside you, droplets clinging to his skin as the sun catches the water in his hair, casting a shimmering halo around his smiling face.
“We should do this again,” he says, his voice warm and full of excitement. “Wasn’t it fun?”
“It really was,” you reply with a smile, your heart still buzzing from the underwater adventure. “Thank you for showing me all those caves. My friend, Hae, is going to be over the moon,” you say, casting a glance toward the boat swaying gently in the distance.
“That’s great to hear,” Namjoon replies, his voice as smooth as the rippling waves.
A flicker of frustration tugs at your chest, and you bite your lip. “I just wish I could talk to you down there,” you admit, your words heavy with a longing that feels both simple and profound.
“It would be nice, yeah,” he muses, his soft smile brightened by the sunlight. “But I don’t mind coming up here to talk. I like the air up here too,” he adds with a gentle chuckle, his gaze warm and steady.
“I have so many questions,” you blurt out, the words escaping you before you can hold them back. There’s too much wonder bottled up inside you, too much curiosity, and it needs to spill over.
Namjoon laughs, a sound so genuine it feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. “Shoot,” he says, his dimples deepening like two small whirlpools at the corners of his mouth.
You pause, your mind swimming with possibilities, before settling on the most obvious. “Are you the only merman, or… are there more of you?” you ask, your voice tinged with awe.
“There are more,” he says with pride, his chest lifting slightly. “There’s a whole city beneath the sea—Naraeum, where we live.” His eyes gleam with the pride of someone who belongs to something ancient and wondrous.
A thrill runs through you at the revelation. An entire city of merfolk hidden beneath the waves. The thought makes your pulse quicken, the realization that you’ve stumbled upon something so extraordinary, so secret, that few on the surface could even imagine it. You feel as if you’ve been let in on the universe’s greatest mystery, and it fills you with a giddy excitement that hums like electricity in your veins. 
“Are there cities or kingdoms beneath the waves? What are they like?” you ask, your voice soft with curiosity, eager to glimpse the world he calls home.
Namjoon’s eyes light up with a quiet pride. “Naraeum is a vast kingdom,” he begins, his words gentle yet full of wonder. “There’s pink coral stretching as far as the eye can see, ancient golden buildings weathered by time, and bright green kelp that sways like dancers in the currents. Dark caves hide beneath the surface, teeming with life—fish, crabs, creatures of every kind. And at night, everything glows with bioluminescent light, turning the ocean into a dreamscape.” A faint blush rises on his cheeks as he adds, “Maybe I can show you one day.”
Your breath catches in your throat, the thought of seeing an underwater kingdom beyond anything you’ve ever imagined. “That sounds unbelievable. I’d love to see Naraeum,” you say, barely able to contain the excitement bubbling within you. The idea of diving so deep, into a world untouched by human hands, feels too surreal to grasp.
“There are other cities too,” Namjoon continues, a smile tugging at his lips. “Some are smaller, some are larger, but Naraeum is like the heart of our region, the capital of sorts,” he adds, the pride in his voice unmistakable.
Your mind whirls with possibilities, questions tumbling out before you can stop them. “Do you have art? Music? Stories? How do you create them underwater?”
Namjoon laughs, a full-bodied sound that echoes across the waves. “We do,” he replies with a sparkle in his eyes. “Human books, for one—we’ve learned to preserve them so they don’t dissolve. Otherwise, we etch our stories on stone, carving our history into the bones of the sea. For music, we use instruments that echo your drums, flutes, and strings, but they’re crafted from merfolk hair, delicate yet strong.”
He pauses, a wistful look crossing his face. “Naraeum is ancient, filled with art and stories older than any of us. But,” he adds, adjusting the heavy bag on his back, “I fear I don’t have enough time to share them all right now. This bag,” he says with a light grin, “is starting to weigh me down.”
“Oh right, the bag!” you exclaim, snapping back to reality as a wave of panic ripples through you. You mentally scold yourself for letting the moment sweep you away, your feet kicking gently against the water as you make your way toward the boat. Namjoon swims by your side, effortlessly graceful, his shimmering tail flickering beneath the surface. 
Hae is there, waiting with a patient smile, and as she pulls you aboard, you reach out to take the heavy bag from Namjoon’s hands. “Thank you so much,” you say, a warm smile spreading across your face despite the unspoken whirlpool of questions still swirling in your mind. You wish you could ask him everything, but those wonders will have to wait.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Namjoon replies, his voice soft like the lull of the ocean. His own smile is tender, a quiet acknowledgment that leaves you feeling light despite the weight of the bag. 
Hae chimes in with a grin, “So, you’re the famous merman,” she teases, still a little wide-eyed as Namjoon flashes his bright blue tail above the surface, the sight leaving her speechless. The tail vanishes just as quickly, a flicker of the magic below.
“I’ll have to go now,” Namjoon says, his voice carrying a gentle farewell as he begins to swim backward, his gaze lingering on yours. “But I’ll see you again soon, ___.”
A blush creeps up your cheeks, and despite yourself, you smile and wave, heart fluttering in a way that’s both exhilarating and unsettling. You watch him dip beneath the waves, his form disappearing into the deep blue, leaving the water still and the air quiet.
Hae turns to you with a knowing look. “You’ve got a crush on the merman, don’t you?”
You can’t deny the warmth spreading through you, but you push the thought aside, the reality of it sinking in. He’s a merman. You’re human. It feels impossible, like something from a dream. But maybe—just maybe—being friends isn’t out of reach. Friends, you think, as if convincing yourself. That can’t hurt... right?
In the following weeks, you find yourself swept into a world beyond imagination—each adventure with Namjoon feels like diving into a storybook of magic and wonder. He takes you to hidden underwater realms where gems glimmer like stars, and schools of fish, dolphins, and whales glide by as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s as though the ocean has opened up just for you, revealing its secrets with every dive. The more time you spend with him, the stronger your heart tugs, pulling you deeper into your feelings. You try, futilely, to convince yourself you’re just friends, but every shared laugh, every meaningful glance, makes that harder to believe. 
Namjoon is an incredible friend, one who listens to your ramblings with genuine interest. His conversation is as vast and deep as the ocean itself, leading you into existential tangents that leave you pondering life and its mysteries long after the talks are over. You wish for more—there’s an ache that grows inside you—but how could that even be possible? He’s a merman, you’re human. It feels like some impossible fairy tale. Yet, you’ve caught him stealing glances, his cheeks tinged with blush, and sometimes he gazes at you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter in ways you can’t ignore. But does that mean anything? How do merfolk even love? You wonder if their hearts beat the same as yours.
One quiet afternoon, as you sit with the sun lazily dipping below the horizon on the boat, you find yourself asking the question that’s been gnawing at your mind. “Are there any consequences if a merman falls in love with a human?” The words tumble out before you can stop them. 
Namjoon, floating beside the boat, nearly chokes on the beer you brought him, his laughter turning into a cough as he searches for air. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, more careful. “There aren’t really... any consequences,” he murmurs, the tips of his ears turning pink. His eyes flicker nervously to your lips, then meet your eyes again, a quiet vulnerability swimming in their depths.
Good to know, you think, your heart skipping a beat. But before the blush overtakes you, you scramble to change the subject, your curiosity pulling you in another direction. “Is there magic in the ocean, like the old legends say? Can you control it?”
He laughs softly, the sound like the ebb and flow of waves. “There is magic, but no, I can’t control it. None of us can. There’s a Sea Witch, though—she’s the only one with that kind of power, as far as I know.” His words are laced with mystery, and your mind spins with possibilities.
“Can merfolk live forever?” you ask, half-dreaming of a life that stretches beyond the boundaries of time.
“Yes and no,” he replies, his voice thoughtful. “We can live for so long it feels like forever, but we’re not truly immortal.” His gaze drifts across the water, as if pondering the weight of time itself. 
“Interesting,” you murmur, your thoughts swirling. “What happens when a merperson dies, then? Is there an afterlife?”
Namjoon’s smile is wistful as he explains, “When a merperson dies, we hold a celebration—a spiritual send-off, really. There’s singing, dancing, it’s more of a party than a funeral. We celebrate their journey into the afterlife.” You must look puzzled because he quickly adds, “In the afterlife, we become ghosts. But if friends and family don’t send you off properly, there’s a chance the spirit might come back to haunt them.” He chuckles lightly, and you gasp, wide-eyed at the thought.
A cool breeze dances over the water, and for a moment, the world feels suspended between reality and the dreamlike expanse of the sea. You sit there, awed by the depth of his world, your heart both heavy with questions and light with wonder. And in that moment, despite the impossible distance between your two worlds, something seems to shift—something delicate and unspoken. You don’t know what the future holds, but maybe, just maybe, there’s magic enough to bridge the divide.
He passes the beer back to you, and you take a gentle sip, letting the taste linger without wanting the haze of drunkenness to settle in. Out here, in the middle of the endless ocean, everything feels both vast and intimate. A small taste is enough.
“Do you ever feel lonely in the vastness of the sea?” you ask, a quiet melancholy softening your voice as you gaze out at the seemingly endless horizon. The sea is breathtaking, yes, but the weight of its endlessness stirs something in you—a humbling reminder of how small one can feel in such a world.
“Sometimes,” Namjoon admits, his head dipping as his gaze finds the water. “There are moments when the ocean feels too big, too quiet.” His voice is soft, vulnerable. “But I have good friends,” he continues with a faint smile, “and I have my books when the solitude feels too heavy.” He looks at you with eyes warm and reassuring, as if to say that the sea might be vast, but he’s found beauty in its stillness.
“Oh, what books do you like?” you chuckle lightly, trying to brighten the mood, though his quiet sincerity tugs at your heart.
“Human books,” he replies with a gentle grin. “I love historical tales, but fiction is my favorite—stories that let me dream of other worlds.”
You smile, curiosity dancing on your lips. “What kind of fiction? Should I bring you some next time?” The words tumble out before you can catch them, your eagerness spilling over into the space between you.
A blush blooms across his cheeks, so deep it even colors the tips of his ears. In a shy, almost bashful voice, he says, “I... I like romance.” His admission is soft, as if he’s unsure of how it will land.
You can’t help but smile, your heart swelling with affection. There’s no shame in it, not to you—if anything, it’s endearing. “I have some romance books I can bring next time, if you’d like,” you offer, your voice gentle, feeling the warmth of your words fill the space between you.
Namjoon’s eyes sparkle, a soft wonder lighting them up as his blush deepens. “I wouldn’t mind that,” he murmurs, his voice as tender as the evening breeze.
The sun has begun to sink lower, casting a golden glow over the water. Namjoon glances at the sky, then back at you with a smile that feels like the closing of a chapter. “It’s getting late. I was thinking... next time, I could show you Naraeum.” His voice is proud, almost glowing with the thought. “If we go at night, the whole kingdom shines,” he adds, a spark of excitement in his eyes as he recalls the bioluminescent beauty he once described to you.
Your heart leaps at the thought. “I’d love that,” you say, feeling the pull of the ocean’s magic once more. “I’ll ask Hae to man the boat, so I’m not alone when it’s time to head back.”
Namjoon nods, his smile softening as the sun dips lower, its light casting golden hues over both the water and his blue hair. “See you soon,” he says, waving as he begins to slip beneath the surface.
You wave back, feeling the warmth of his presence linger, even as you sail toward the shore, the fading sunlight a reminder that the ocean holds many mysteries yet to be uncovered. And with each adventure, your connection to him deepens, like a current pulling you both to something inevitable.
"I’m telling you, you’re totally whipped, man," Yoongi says with a playful eye roll, his voice teasing but laced with truth.
“I’m not,” Namjoon protests, crossing his arms defensively, but deep down, he knows resistance is futile. His friends have been relentless, teasing him ever since you entered his life—how his smile stretches wider, brighter, after spending time with you, how your name slips into conversations that have nothing to do with the human world. It’s like you’ve seeped into his very soul. He knows he’s fallen, and fallen hard, but the weight of his feelings confuses him. He has no idea how to navigate them, unsure of your heart, or if you could even feel the same pull toward him. And how could it ever work between you two? The thought of venturing onto land to be with you dances through his mind like a fragile dream, but there’s a storm of questions swirling beneath the surface—questions he’s too afraid to ask, too scared to drown in all the unknowns.
“Just don’t get your heart broken,” Yoongi mutters, his voice softer now, tinged with caution. Namjoon nods, the words settling heavily in his chest like stones sinking to the ocean floor.
“Hey man, don’t throw your past experiences at Joonie like that!” Jimin chimes in, smacking Yoongi’s shoulder, a little too forcefully judging by Yoongi’s wince. “If he’s in love, he should go for it. Take the dive, see where the current leads him,” the blonde merman insists, eyes sparkling with mischief and optimism, trying to fill Namjoon’s heart with hope, pushing away the shadows Yoongi’s cynicism casts.
Namjoon, though, can only sigh. “I just don’t know…,” he mumbles, fingers trailing along the spines of his beloved books, rearranging them in some futile attempt to quiet the storm inside him. Anything to busy himself, anything to keep thoughts of you from consuming him. But it’s hopeless—why does his mind keep drifting back to you, like the tide, relentless and unyielding?
“It will never work,” Yoongi shrugs with a quiet scoff, his voice carrying the weight of someone who’s seen too many relationships slip away. His words linger in the air, heavy like the deep sea.
Jimin, unphased, shoots him a scolding glare. “You never know that,” he says firmly. “Just because your love life’s been a shipwreck doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone else.” There’s a sharp edge to his words, a flicker of irritation.
“And look at Seokjin and Soo-ah!” Jimin adds, his voice lifting again, the gleam of an idea flickering in his eyes. “Soo-ah was human once too, remember? She turned mermaid for love. Maybe ___ would want to become a mermaid as well? Who knows what fate has in store,” he grins, ever the romantic, eager to plant seeds of possibility in Namjoon’s mind.
Namjoon’s heart stirs at the thought, but even the idea feels like a dream too distant, too fragile to reach. Could you really be part of his world? Could love, like the sea, find a way to bridge the impossible distance between you?
“I would never put that on her. She has a life—one she’s likely content with on land. I couldn’t ask her to leave it behind,” Namjoon says, his voice laced with breathless resignation, as though the weight of his own feelings has left him deflated, crushed beneath the impossibility of it all. 
“She’s a good friend. I’ll just... enjoy what we have for now,” he adds softly, placing the book you’d given him gently on his nightstand, his fingers lingering on the cover. He already treasures it, not for the words it contains, but because it came from you. Though he hasn’t yet reached the end, he finds himself lost in the pages, immersed in the tale of a woman struggling with feelings for her best friend—torn between preserving their friendship or risking everything for love. If Namjoon sees a reflection of his own heart in those pages, he’ll never admit it, not even to himself.
“Love sucks anyway,” Yoongi mutters, his voice sharp and bitter, like a wound still raw and bleeding.
“You’re killing the vibe, Yoon,” Jimin sighs, shaking his head as he swims closer to Namjoon, his energy warm and comforting. 
“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin adds, draping an arm around Namjoon’s broad shoulders, trying to lift the weight that presses down on his friend. “He’s the last person you want advice from when it comes to love. He’s forgotten what it means to believe in it.” Jimin shoots another glare at Yoongi, who merely shrugs, unmoved.
Namjoon lets out a weary sigh. He likes you—no, more than likes you. Perhaps he’s even in love, but he’s still learning to come to terms with that revelation. What if telling you his feelings drives you away? What if, in confessing his heart, he loses the precious friendship you’ve built together? You, who’ve brought laughter and life into his days. He’s never been close to a human before, not like this, and the thought of losing you weighs heavier than the ocean above him. 
It’s not like he hasn’t ventured to land before, tasted fleeting moments with humans—flings that flickered out as quickly as they began. But this, you, feel different. And he’s in deep water now, uncertain of the way forward. It doesn’t matter to him that you’re human. If you were a mermaid, he doubts it would make things easier. What draws him to you isn’t your species, it’s your soul. 
It’s the way your hair dances in the wind, or how it clings to your skin when it’s soaked from the sea. The way your cheeks flush red, that soft blush that dusts even the bridge of your nose. The way bubbles rise and swirl around you when you dive beneath the waves, how your lashes flutter like the wings of a butterfly. The way your presence calms the storm inside him, as though you carry the quiet strength of the sea itself.
Yes, Namjoon thinks, his heart heavy with the undeniable truth. He’s got it bad.
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“Hae, I don’t know what to do,” you sigh, the weight of indecision pressing down on you as you sit at the coffee shop, staring at the steam rising from your untouched cup. You feel like you could pull your hair out, frustration boiling inside as you wait for the coffee to cool, though it’s really your emotions that need calming.
The midday sunlight filters through the window, casting soft golden light over your table, but you can’t appreciate the warmth. Your mind is too restless. What are you supposed to do with these feelings?
“It’s actually quite simple,” Hae says, her tone far too casual for the magnitude of what you’re feeling. She takes a sip of her coffee—how does she drink it so scalding hot?—and you scoff softly, half out of envy, half in disbelief at how calm she seems. “You just have to talk to him.”
You groan, the sound louder than you intended, pulling curious glances from the tables around you. Embarrassed, you lower your voice, but the frustration lingers, tugging at your insides like a tangled knot. 
“It’s not that easy,” you say, pushing your coffee aside. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if I ruin everything between us?” Your voice drops to a whisper as your hands fall to your lap, palms sweaty and clammy. “How would it even work? He’s a merman, Hae. I... I’m just me.”
Hae raises an eyebrow, amused. “Girl—have you seriously not noticed the way he looks at you?”
You blink. “What do you mean? He looks at me... normal.”
She gives you a look that suggests you might be the most oblivious person on the planet. “Nah. He looks at you like he’s ready to drown in your eyes—like you’re his whole world.”
Her words hit you like a sudden wave, stealing your breath for a moment. Could she be right? You’ve never seen Namjoon look at you like that, at least not in a way you could recognize. 
“Really?” you whisper, unsure, heart fluttering with both hope and fear.
“Yes,” she emphasizes, laughing a little as she sets her cup down. “You’re kinda stupid for not noticing.”
You finally take a tentative sip of your now-warm coffee, trying to hide the way her words unravel you. As the warmth settles in your chest, your mind starts racing, replaying all the moments you’ve shared with Namjoon, all the times he’s looked at you, spoken to you with that gentle smile. Had there been something more in those glances? Had you been too blind to see it?
“You should confess your feelings,” Hae says, matter-of-fact, sipping her coffee like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
But it’s not that simple, not for you. The thought of baring your heart feels like standing at the edge of a precipice, with no way of knowing if there’s solid ground beneath you—or a fall. What if she’s wrong? What if you’re wrong? 
You shake your head slowly. “I don’t know if I can. What if I ruin our friendship? What if he doesn’t feel the same?”
Hae gives you a knowing look, but you’re already spiraling, lost in your own thoughts. Maybe... maybe you could watch him a little longer, try to see what she’s seeing, catch more evidence that there’s something there, something more. 
Because the risk of losing him over your feelings—that terrifies you more than anything.
It’s a few nights later, and the sea is a blanket of darkness as you and Hae venture out into its endless expanse. The sky above is nearly pitch black, save for the delicate shimmer of stars scattered like diamonds, casting faint light upon the inky water. The moon hangs low, its pale glow mirrored perfectly on the surface, creating a fragile bridge between the heavens and the sea. You pull Hae into a hug, murmuring your gratitude for her being here, for her unwavering companionship on this strange, otherworldly journey. She laughs softly, her voice breaking the silence of the night, and tells you she wouldn’t let you drown—not when she’s here to keep you safe. Her words bring a smile to your face, easing the quiet tension in your chest as you pull on your gear in the dark.
You slip into the water, the sea swallowing you whole. Beneath the surface, it’s as black as ink, the deep blue fading into a near-impenetrable navy that borders on oblivion. But there is no fear, only the pull of the unknown as you dive deeper, surrendering to the quiet pull of the ocean. Your breath is steady, your heartbeat louder in your ears than the sound of the waves above.
And then, there he is—Namjoon, his gentle smile waiting for you like a beacon in the depths, dimples carving softness into the darkness. His presence is steady, grounding, and for a moment, you forget you can’t speak, forgetting that the words you wish to say—I’m glad I’m here, thank you for this—are trapped behind the mask of your breathing gear.
Suddenly, his hand reaches for yours. The touch surprises you at first, a flicker of warmth against the cold of the sea, sending a soft spark up your arm, a silent current that makes your heart stutter. But then you relax into it, realizing how right it feels—his hand in yours, the silent understanding between you. It’s just a hand, you remind yourself, but even the smallest gesture carries weight in the depths of the sea.
“It’s dark,” he gestures to your joined hands, his voice a whisper through the water. “I’ll guide you.” You notice, even in the dim light, how his eyes shift nervously, and if the ocean weren’t so dark, you’d swear there was a blush creeping across his cheeks.
Together, you swim deeper, your hand still clasped in his as the world around you begins to change. In the distance, something gleams—a glint of gold, faint but unmistakable. As you draw closer, it becomes more defined, taking shape as towering structures rise from the seafloor like monuments from another world. Tall, ancient buildings glitter beneath the water, their surfaces gleaming with gold, adorned in intricate lettering and symbols you can’t begin to decipher. The curves and arches remind you of something familiar, some echo of human architecture, though far grander and more ancient than anything you’ve ever seen. These aren’t just buildings—they’re castles, palaces from a forgotten fairy tale. Everything is bathed in the ethereal glow of bioluminescent light, soft blues and yellows emanating from plants that pulse like stars, making the entire city shimmer as if alive with magic. It’s breathtaking—otherworldly in its beauty—and you feel your breath catch in your throat, mesmerized by the impossible splendor before you. 
How many wonders exist beneath the surface, hidden from the world above? you think, the weight of it all is almost too much to grasp. That such a place could exist, a vast city of gold and light, thriving in the deep—how could you have never known?
“Welcome to Naraeum,” Namjoon says, his voice soft, gesturing toward the city center that teems with life. Merpeople of all shapes, colors, and ages drift through the streets, some lost in their own rhythms, others laughing and chatting, and children darting through the water in playful games. The whole scene is alive, vibrant, and full of warmth, and the sight of it fills you with something indescribable—joy, wonder, perhaps even belonging.
A smile spreads across your face, unbidden, as the reality of this magical place settles over you. For the first time, you feel like you’ve truly discovered something beyond the world you’ve known, something boundless and beautiful. And with Namjoon beside you, it feels like you’ve only just begun to understand its depths.
“This is the city hall,” Namjoon gestures toward the tallest of the castles, its golden spires reaching upward like fingers trying to touch the ocean’s surface. “The royal family lives there too.” His voice is soft, but there’s a weight to his words, something ancient and significant about the building that looms over the city like a silent guardian.
You glance at him, blinking, wishing you could ask more, the curiosity burning inside you. If only you could speak, but the water and the mouthpiece keep your questions trapped behind your lips. The tug of his hand interrupts your thoughts, and once again you’re being gently pulled deeper into the heart of Naraeum, where the city unfolds like a dream in slow motion.
The water sways with life—delicate kale and other greens move in rhythm with the gentle currents, shells glint beneath the sandy floor, and tiny crabs scuttle between the rocks, oblivious to your presence. Shoals of fish—bright yellow, orange, and black—dart past, their quicksilver bodies flashing through the twilight water. And now, the eyes of the merpeople are on you. Their gazes, curious and shimmering, follow you as you move through their world, and for the first time, you feel like a true visitor in a land not your own.
Three merpeople approach, their figures graceful and effortless in the water. One, a striking merman with a pink tail that shimmers like rose quartz in the dim light, looks you over with an intensity that makes you feel seen in a way both comforting and unfamiliar. You notice his hand intertwined with a mermaid beside him, her tail a stunning shade of purple that gleams like amethyst. Together, they are radiant, like a pair of jewels. They look perfect together, you think, a bit in awe of how seamlessly they belong to this world.
“This is ___?” the pink-tailed merman asks, his voice smooth, his eyes darting to Namjoon for confirmation.
Namjoon nods, and the mermaid smiles, her face brightening with warmth. “Pleased to meet you,” she says, her voice light like a melody. “I’m Soo-ah, and this is my fiancé, Seokjin.” You nod in response, acknowledging them with a smile behind your mouthpiece, feeling a sense of camaraderie in their presence.
But before you can speak—or even think of what to say—your eyes catch on the third figure. A dark-haired merman with a tail the color of midnight, streaked with gold that glimmers like starlight. His aura is different—colder, detached. His black eyes flicker over you briefly, then, with a dismissive scoff, he turns away, arms crossed over his chest as if to close himself off from the world. 
Namjoon sighs, his voice edged with irritation, “That’s Yoongi.” The name comes out rough, almost an apology. “He forgot to take the stick out of his ass today.”
You can’t help but chuckle, bubbles escaping from your mouthpiece, rising toward the surface like tiny pieces of joy. Even in this underwater kingdom, humor survives, softening the tension. But Yoongi, unmoved, swims off into the shadows, his figure disappearing into the vastness of the sea. 
“Don’t mind him,” Namjoon mutters, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Come on, I want to show you the rest.”
Soo-ah and Seokjin swim alongside you as Namjoon leads you through the winding streets of the marketplace, stalls lined up like sentinels, though empty now in the quiet of night. The architecture is both foreign and familiar, illuminated by the soft glow of bioluminescent plants. Everything feels untouched by time, and yet alive with history. You pass the grand library next, its shelves filled with tomes both ancient and new, merfolk stories and human books resting side by side. You can almost feel the weight of untold stories and hidden lore that fills the space, waiting to be discovered.
Namjoon’s excitement builds as he takes you to a fitness center unlike anything you’ve ever seen—massive bars with stones at either end, weights crafted from various-sized rocks, and machines clearly designed for strength and agility in the water. It’s a glimpse into the life of these beings, how they build themselves in this weightless world.
After a while, Soo-ah and Seokjin bid you farewell, their presence a quiet comfort as they swim off together, leaving you alone with Namjoon. Your pulse quickens. His hand, still clasped in yours, feels warm even in the cold depths of the sea. The way he glances at you—those fleeting, secretive looks that you’ve caught out of the corner of your eye—makes your heart race even more. Hae’s words echo in your mind, whispering truths you’re not sure you’re ready to admit. 
Could it be? you wonder, as the two of you drift toward his home.
“This is my place,” he says softly, his voice reverberating through the water as he turns on the light—an iridescent seashell hanging from the ceiling that casts a gentle, pearlescent glow throughout the space. His home is carved into the heart of a cave, the walls smooth and cool to the touch, like the sea itself has shaped them over countless years. Your eyes fall on his bed, draped in what looks like a soft, inviting duvet, but as you get closer, you realize it’s woven from delicate strands of kelp, swaying ever so slightly in the currents. It’s an unexpected beauty, intricate and organic, like everything in this underwater world.
The longest wall is dominated by a towering bookshelf, its shelves lined with books, arranged meticulously by color and size. It’s mesmerizing, this ocean of stories he’s collected, and you can’t help but wonder what worlds and lives he’s explored within these pages. You want to tell him, to say how beautiful it all is—his home, his soul, him. But your words are trapped beneath the weight of the sea, tangled with the breathlessness of being in his presence. 
Your fingertips brush the spines of the books, imagining all the narratives they contain, each one another layer of who Namjoon is. You glance down at your joined hands—his fingers laced with yours, and in that quiet moment, you swear you can feel something electric passing between you. A pulse of warmth, a silent exchange of emotions you can’t speak. You want to kiss him, more than anything. The way he’s gazing at you, his eyes soft and full of something unspoken, the gentle curve of his lips hiding a blush you wish you could see more clearly.
But here, in this quiet cavern beneath the sea, there’s nothing you can do. You can’t ask him what you’re dying to know, can’t lean in and feel the warmth of his lips against yours, can’t tell him that you’re falling, deeply, helplessly. All you can do is float here, heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid. 
He clears his throat, nervously scratching the back of his head. His mouth opens as if he’s about to speak, then closes again. There’s something he wants to say, you can feel it, lingering in the air between you. He tries again, and this time his voice, soft and hesitant, finally breaks the silence. 
“Thank you for letting me show you my world.”
You squeeze his hand gently, pouring all the gratitude and affection you can’t voice into that single touch. You hope he feels it—the appreciation, the awe, the quiet longing you carry for him. And in that touch, you wish you could invite him into your world, share everything that you are with him, even though he’s been on land before. But you don’t know if he’d want that. You’ve never asked, never dared to imagine what it might be like to share your lives across these two worlds. You’re afraid to impose, afraid to hope too much.
The moment hangs fragile between you, but like all perfect moments, it begins to fade as reality presses in. You feel the pull of time, the reminder that you need to return to the surface. Namjoon feels it too. His eyes flicker with understanding as he leads you back out into the city, guiding you through the soft glow of bioluminescent lights, past the merpeople still moving gracefully through their midnight routines. 
The silence between you stretches as you swim toward the boat where Hae waits, but it’s not the kind of silence that weighs heavy. It’s filled with possibility, thick with everything you haven’t said. Your heart beats faster as you realize that, once you’re back above the water, you’ll have the chance to speak. To ask. The thought of it sends your pulse racing, a swirl of excitement and terror mixing in your chest. 
What if he doesn’t feel the same? The question spins through your mind, gnawing at the edges of your courage. But the way he looked at you, the way his hand feels in yours, gives you hope. And maybe—just maybe—that will be enough.
As you break the surface of the water, you push your goggles up to rest like a headband, feeling the cool night air kiss your damp skin. It’s crisp, almost electric, filling your lungs with a freshness that makes the world above feel more alive than ever. Namjoon surfaces beside you, offering you a soft smile, but your attention is caught by the subtle blush dusting his cheeks, a faint rose bloom in the moonlight. He seems hesitant, his uncertainty mirroring your own, as if you’re both standing on the edge of something vast and uncharted, too afraid to take that first leap.
For a heartbeat, he swims closer, his presence looming gently in your space. You hold your breath, your pulse quickening with the thought that he might—maybe—kiss you. Instinctively, you close your eyes, ready to surrender to that moment, but instead, his fingers brush your cheek, and he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear with such tenderness it sends a wave of warmth through your body. His touch lingers, delicate and deliberate, and though it wasn’t the kiss you imagined, it makes you blush all the same. The heat rises to your cheeks, flooding you with a mixture of longing and disappointment.
But then something stirs within you—some reckless courage sparked by his closeness—and before you can think it through, you lean in. Your lips find his, a soft, quick kiss, almost like a whisper. It’s gentle, just a peck, but his lips are warm, softer than you ever imagined, like the sea breeze caressing your skin on a summer evening. 
When you pull away, you see the surprise flicker in his eyes for just a moment before his features soften into something tender and full of quiet affection. His ears burn red in the moonlight, and his dimples deepen as he gazes at you with a look that leaves you breathless. His brown eyes—dark and shimmering, like polished amber—glow with something more, something deeper. You think, just for a second, it’s desire, simmering beneath his calm exterior.
“Thank you for tonight,” you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the soft lapping of the waves. You squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth and strength of him, and smile. “It was so beautiful.”
Namjoon doesn’t speak; he simply looks at you, his dragon-like eyes full of quiet intensity, his dimples softening the tension in the air. It’s a look that makes your heart skip, that holds a thousand unsaid words between you. And as you reluctantly pull away, swimming toward the boat, your mind is still spinning from the kiss, from the closeness, from everything left unspoken.
Hae pulls you up into the boat, and as you sit, catching your breath, you catch her sly grin. You know she saw everything—the kiss, the blush, the way Namjoon looked at you—but for now, she stays silent, letting the moment hang in the air. You wave to Namjoon, watching as he offers one last gentle smile before disappearing back into the deep, dark waters, the night swallowing him whole.
And even as the waves settle, your heart still swells, full of the hope and mystery that the night—and Namjoon—left behind.
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The days pass in a blur of anxious thoughts, your heart heavy with doubt. Every dive into the ocean feels colder without a trace of Namjoon, and the silence is deafening. Each time you resurface alone, your mind spirals further into uncertainty. Did you overstep? The kiss lingers on your lips, but now you wonder if it was a mistake. It feels as if he’s vanished into the depths, leaving you adrift. Is he avoiding me? The question gnaws at you, twisting your insides. Maybe this is his way of saying he doesn’t feel the same, that he wants nothing more to do with you.
Hae, ever the caring friend, drags you to a fancy restaurant in an attempt to soothe your restless mind, insisting that you’re worrying yourself to death. You look like a dog that’s been kicked, she had said with a shake of her head, trying to make you laugh. But now, as you sit across from her, poking at the salad you barely have the appetite to eat, the weight of your uncertainty presses down even harder. Your stomach twists with every bite, the anxiety clinging to you like a shadow.
“Maybe he’s just busy, or caught up in merfolk stuff?" Hae suggests, her voice light, trying to pry you from the dark corners of your thoughts. But your mind won’t let you escape. Busy? No, your treacherous thoughts whisper, he’s avoiding you—he’s forgotten you, and the kiss meant nothing.
You say nothing, only stabbing your fork into the salad with a kind of quiet fury, each jab into the leaves an outlet for the storm brewing inside you.
“Uh, ___?” Hae’s voice breaks the tension, but you barely lift your head. She stumbles over her words, clearly uneasy, her tone cautious as she leans in closer. “There’s a man—blue hair—he’s looking at us.”
At her words, something stirs in you, curiosity overriding the anger for just a moment. Blue hair? Your heart skips a beat, and before you can stop yourself, you turn around, almost instinctively, as though drawn by an invisible thread. Your gaze collides with a pair of deep, brown eyes that hold all the mystery of the ocean. Namjoon.
His eyes glisten like the sea at dawn, reflecting both depth and tenderness, swirling with something unspoken—regret, maybe even desire. You swallow hard, feeling the magnetic pull that has always existed between you, but this time, it’s stronger. The air around you thickens as he walks toward the table, his presence unmistakable, sending your pulse into a wild rhythm.
“Hi, Y/N,” he says, his voice soft, laced with an apology that doesn’t need to be spoken yet. The smile he offers is gentle, almost shy, and you can see the guilt in the way his eyes search yours. He knows. He knows he shouldn’t have disappeared without a word.
“Hi, Namjoon,” you manage to reply, the sound of his name on your lips stirring something deep inside you—something that’s a mixture of relief and frustration. You’re a little mad, of course you are. But as your heart races, you know you can’t stay angry with him, not when he’s standing there with that look in his eyes. He’s here now. And that’s enough for your heart to forgive him.
Your eyes travel down to his legs—strong, toned, perfectly human. He’s traded the water for the land, just for you, standing there in beige shorts like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And yet, your mind spins with the impossibility of it all, as if he’s a dream made flesh, and part of you still can’t believe he’s really here.
The air between you is thick with unspoken words, a tension that seems to ripple like the sea itself. Namjoon scratches the back of his head, his eyes shifting with uncertainty. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone,” he begins, his voice low and sincere. “I didn’t mean to disappear like that, but something happened in Naraeum—”
Before he can finish, the weight of your own anxiety breaks through, forcing the words from your chest. “I thought you didn’t like me, or just forgot about me.” The admission tumbles out, raw and trembling, the very fear that has haunted you for days finally taking shape between you. As soon as the words leave your lips, you feel exposed, vulnerable. You brace yourself for his response.
For a moment, he just stares, his expression frozen in disbelief, like your words have knocked the wind out of him. Then, his face softens, eyes wide with something close to shock. “Baby, no,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, the nickname slipping from his lips so naturally that it sends a flutter of warmth through your chest. He steps closer, worry etched in every line of his face as his gaze falls on you, sitting there with your heart in your throat.
Baby?
“I’d never forget about you,” he continues, his voice trembling slightly as he bites his lower lip, as if trying to hold something back. The intimacy of that small gesture makes your breath catch.
Hae clears her throat opposite you, breaking the charged moment. She rises from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor, drawing both your gazes toward her flushed face. “Namjoon, please, take my seat and talk. I’ll go home and shower this tension off,” she says, her tone teasing but kind.
You open your mouth to protest, but then close it, realizing she’s right. The tension is palpable, thick as the ocean depths, and part of you is grateful for the space she’s offering. Even though nerves twist inside you like a storm, you know this is a conversation you need to have.
As Hae leaves, Namjoon sits down across from you, his eyes soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry I worried you, baby,” he murmurs, leaning forward slightly. His hands rest on the table, inching closer to yours, like he’s afraid to cross that final distance too soon.
There’s that word again—baby—and it stirs something deep inside you, butterflies rising in your chest, fluttering wildly, desperate to escape. It’s more than just a nickname; it’s a promise, a reassurance that melts the cold fear that has been gnawing at you for days.
“It’s okay,” you reply, your voice softer now, the storm inside you beginning to calm. “My mind just... got the better of me.” Your gaze flickers to where his fingers hover near yours, and your heart beats wildly at the nearness of him.
Namjoon is here, in front of you, and you realize with a quiet, overwhelming relief—he’s never really been gone.
“I could never not like you,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice dipping lower, softer, as if the truth is too delicate to be spoken aloud. “I think I... love you,” he finishes, the last words barely audible, yet they linger in the air between you like a fragile secret.
Did he just say love? Your heart stumbles, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. “You do?” you ask, your voice trembling with disbelief, your pulse fluttering wildly in your chest. Could it be real? Could he feel the same way?
A flicker of uncertainty dances across your mind, and you can’t help but press further, needing clarity. “Wait—do you think, or do you know?” Your question is gentle, but it carries the weight of hope, a hope that has been simmering beneath the surface for so long.
Namjoon smiles at himself, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “Sorry,” he says, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “I know. I know I love you.”
Time seems to slow, the world slipping into a dreamlike state where everything feels soft, suspended, as if wrapped in the warm glow of your shared confession. The air between you feels charged, but also tender, like the fragile moment before the first petal falls. You can feel it now—he’s there with you, and this love, this real thing, is finally mutual.
You reach out, taking his hands in yours, and lean in closer. “I love you too, Namjoon,” you whisper, the words feeling both daring and true.
For a moment, silence settles between you, but it’s a comfortable silence—one filled with the weight of what’s just been said. His hazel eyes, flecked with warmth and softness, hold yours, and you swear you could drown in them. Drown and never wish to come up for air.
The pull between you is magnetic, and before you can stop yourself, the words slip out, unfiltered and bold. “Do you... want to come see my place?” The second the words leave your mouth, heat rushes to your cheeks. The invitation is brazen, filled with unspoken implications, but you know it’s what you want—all of him, not just this moment, but something more, something deeper.
Namjoon’s breath catches, and he stands, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yes, baby,” he replies in a voice that is almost a whisper, but carries the weight of everything he feels. That one word—baby—sends shivers spiraling down your spine, and you bite your lip, holding back a smile.
Hand in hand, you walk together through the quiet night, the cool air a stark contrast to the warmth building between you. You don’t need words now; the simple contact of his hand in yours is enough, grounding you as you lean into his strong frame. It feels so natural, as if you’ve always been walking beside him, as if this was always meant to happen.
When you reach your apartment, you fumble for the keys, unlocking the door with a nervous flutter in your chest. As the door swings open, you flick on the light, and for a moment, you glance around, hoping he won’t find your space too cluttered or small. You’d cleaned just the day before, but still, anxiety lingers.
Namjoon steps inside, his eyes roaming the space, but he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he looks at you, his gaze heavy with something unspoken, something that makes your heart race. His hand tightens around yours, and you feel yourself being pulled further into his orbit, like gravity drawing you closer.
You look up at him, studying the moles that dot his skin, noticing the way his features are softened by the low light. He’s so close, and in this moment, with his warm eyes on yours and his hand gently holding yours, you think—this is what it means to truly be seen, to truly be wanted. And God, does he look so handsome.
Then, without hesitation, he dives in, his lips crashing into yours with a desperate, urgent need. The moment you let out a soft moan against his mouth, he releases your hand, now free to explore you. Both of his hands cup your cheeks tenderly, yet with a fierceness that pulls you deeper into him. The kiss consumes you, leaving you feeling like water melting in his palms—soft, fluid, and utterly surrendered. His lips tease yours, grazing them in a way that demands more, and when he seeks entrance, you grant it willingly. Your tongues meet in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, moving like waves crashing together under a moonlit sea.
Another moan escapes you, and you feel heat pooling deep inside, a yearning that’s overwhelming. And it’s only a kiss—yet it has you unraveling like a ribbon coming loose.
When he finally pulls away, his gaze locks onto yours, desire simmering in the air between you, thick and electric. “Baby, I want you so bad,” he breathes, his lips curling into a soft pout that makes your heart melt. How does he look both fierce and endearing at once?
You can’t help but smile, your own need burning just as fiercely. “Me too... Please call me ‘baby’ more,” you whisper, fluttering your lashes as you cling to the warmth in his eyes. “I love it.”
He chuckles, the sound like a low rumble of thunder. “Oh, I’ve noticed,” he says, amused. “Every time I call you ‘baby,’ your eyes dilate.”
You didn’t know that, but you feel the truth of it—the way that simple word makes your heart race, how it draws you even closer to him, making you crave more.
“I want you...” You pause, feeling the boldness rise within you, “I want you to fuck me.” Your voice is breathless, your gaze holding his with an unspoken plea.
Namjoon grins, a softness creeping into his eyes. “Oh, baby, I’m going to make love to you,” he whispers, and the words are like honey dripping slow and thick. “Don’t you worry,” he adds, his lips capturing yours again with a hunger that makes your head spin.
Each kiss sends you spiraling further into him, your sanity slipping, but God, you love every second of it. It strikes you then how much of a romantic he is, how the passion in his touch mirrors the stories he loves in his books.
He pulls back, his breath hot against your lips. “Where’s your bedroom?” he asks with a playful chuckle.
You point, and before you can say another word, his strong hands find your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You wrap your legs around him, straddling his hips as he carries you across the room. He opens the bedroom door with a sweep of his foot, not bothering with the light, and gently lowers you onto the bed. Laughter bubbles between you, soft and sweet, as his lips claim yours again in a kiss that is both feverish and tender.
Your fingers tangle in his blue hair, tugging at the strands, and he hisses in pleasure, the sound sending shivers racing down your spine. He grinds against you, his erection pressing firmly against your core, and you feel yourself unraveling again, melting beneath him. God, he feels big, you think, your body aching to know him, to feel him completely.
Your hands move to the hem of his shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin as you tug the fabric upward, longing to see his bare chest again. You know what lies beneath—his broad, muscular frame, every inch of him beautifully sculpted, chest rising and falling with each breath. And you need to touch him, to feel his strength beneath your hands.
In this moment, nothing else matters—just him, you, and the gravity of everything that has led you here.
He pulls away, sensing exactly what you want, and in one fluid motion, grabs the hem of his shirt, peeling it off in a way that feels almost sinful. The sight of him should be illegal—holy hell, the way his muscles flex as he undresses is enough to take your breath away.
Your hands move instinctively, drawn to the expanse of his chest, a perfect blend of softness and strength. The skin beneath your fingers is warm, and the way he feels—solid, yet yielding—is intoxicating.
“Like what you see?” he teases, his voice low and full of that gentle confidence, and you can only gape at him, feeling the warmth of your admiration blossom into something deeper.
“God, Namjoon, you’ve always been beautiful... inside and out,” you murmur, your voice filled with reverence, because while his looks are striking, it’s his soul that captivates you.
His lips curve into a soft smile, his gaze tender as he leans down, brushing light kisses along the curve of your neck. The sensation sends waves of laughter bubbling out of you, light and breathless, as the tickle of his lips spreads joy and heat all at once. He keeps moving lower, trailing kisses down your body like a map only he knows how to navigate.
When he reaches the waistband of your pants, he pauses, eyes flicking up to meet yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Can I?” he asks, his voice both eager and gentle.
“Yes,” you whisper, and as he unbuttons your pants, you arch your back to help him slide them off, heart racing. He pauses again, staring for a moment, captivated by the sight of you, the evidence of your desire already showing.
“You’re so wet, baby,” he says, his voice hushed and full of wonder. “All for me?”
You nod, breath hitching, your body already trembling with need. “Yes, Joon. You make me so damn wet,” you pant, writhing beneath him, desperate for more. “Please, just touch me.”
His gaze darkens with lust as he licks his lips, then dips his head lower, trailing kisses across your stomach, inching closer to where you need him most. Every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you, and you giggle softly, unable to contain the lightness you feel even as desire coils tighter within you. His lips press against the hem of your lace panties, nothing extravagant, yet he looks at you like you’re the most exquisite thing he’s ever seen.
With agonizing slowness, he hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down with deliberate care. The cool air of your apartment contrasts sharply with the warmth between your thighs, and you gasp, aching for him. You feel exposed, vulnerable, but in the most delicious way—his gaze heavy with desire as he takes you in.
“Joonie…” you moan softly, voice trembling, as his eyes linger on your glistening pussy, admiring you. You wonder if he finds you beautiful like this, spread bare before him, and his awestruck expression tells you everything.
“Damn,” he whispers, voice thick with astonishment. “You’re so pretty… already dripping with need.”
Your breath catches as his words wash over you, and when he asks, “Can I taste you? Can I touch you?” you can barely manage a nod as you spread your legs wider, inviting him in.
“Please,” you beg, feeling delirious with want, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation.
His touch is featherlight at first, a single finger brushing over your swollen clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. You flinch, already overly sensitive, a gasp falling from your lips as your body responds immediately.
“More,” you plead, rolling your hips into his hand, urging him to press harder, to give you what you crave.
His fingers glide over you, warm and sure, stroking your slick skin with precision. Every movement sets off another spark, and a moan escapes you—high-pitched, breathy, and filled with need. His touch is both tender and demanding, and with every stroke, you feel yourself unraveling, caught in the storm of pleasure.
His fingers continue their rhythm, rolling over your sensitive clit with perfect precision, each movement making it throb with want. Your body reacts instinctively, hips rising to meet his touch, chasing more—chasing everything. You need all of him, and the craving is almost unbearable.
Namjoon watches you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his eyes filled with both desire and wonder as he works you with his fingers, and then, slowly, his lips find the tender skin of your inner thigh. His kisses are featherlight, but they leave a trail of fire in their wake, and you tremble under his touch. With each kiss, he moves closer, until finally, his mouth finds your pussy, his warm tongue lapping at your slick folds, tasting you with reverence.
He groans, the sound vibrating against your core, and your hands instinctively tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you want him to drown in your pleasure. His tongue flicks over your sensitive nub, teasing, tasting, and the sensation makes your whole body tense in anticipation. His fingers slide to your entrance, probing gently before slipping inside, one at a time. The stretch feels divine, his fingers curling to reach deeper, and soon two, then three fill you, stretching you in the most perfect, delicious way.
Your toes curl, your breath comes in ragged gasps as you feel the wave of your climax building, rising with every flick of his tongue, every stroke of his fingers. “Joon,” you gasp, a warning, but he only sucks harder, his lips and tongue working in tandem as his fingers thrust deeper, hitting that spot inside you that sends you spiraling.
The world tilts, and your back arches as the orgasm crashes through you, white-hot and electric. You thrash beneath him, pulling at his hair as pleasure floods your body, and all you can do is moan his name in a broken, breathless whisper. Even as your body shudders, he doesn’t stop, his mouth still on your clit, drawing out every last wave until you’re trembling with overstimulation. You tap his shoulder weakly, and finally, he pulls back, his face glistening with your slick, eyes dark with satisfaction.
“So pretty,” he murmurs, his hand brushing softly over your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His touch is light, reverent, and though you’re still floating in the bliss of your release, you feel the need to return the favor rise within you.
“Let me take care of you,” you whisper, your voice thick with desire as you shift, pushing him down beside you. He opens his mouth to protest, but the words are swallowed by a low groan as you straddle his lap, feeling the hard bulge of his cock press against your wet core. You grind down on him, teasing him with the friction, and he lets out a ragged moan that makes your pulse quicken.
“I just want to make you feel good,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, tasting yourself on him. “I don’t know how mermen make love, but as humans—I want you to feel good too.”
He chuckles softly, his hands resting on your hips, eyes dark with hunger. “It’s definitely not the same,” he admits, voice low and breathless, and that’s all the encouragement you need. You slide down his lap to the floor, your eyes locked on his, your intentions clear.
Your fingers find the waistband of his shorts, and he helps you pull them down, revealing his muscular thighs. When you see the thick outline of his cock straining against his boxers, your mouth waters, anticipation making your pulse quicken. Tugging down the last barrier, you free him, and his cock springs forward, thick and long, the head flushed red with need. A bead of precum glistens at the tip, and your breath hitches at the sight of him, hunger twisting deep inside you.
You lick your lips, your hands moving with purpose—one resting on his thigh, the other wrapping around the thick base of his shaft, feeling the weight of him in your palm. Slowly, you begin to pump, your fingers sliding over the velvety skin as you build a steady rhythm.
Namjoon groans, the sound so deep it reverberates through your core, and you can feel him tense beneath your touch, his body reacting to every stroke. His groans are like music, deep and sinful, and they make you want to push him further, to hear more of those primal, desperate sounds spill from his lips.
Damn, you need more of him.
You glance up at him, mischief in your eyes as you give a playful wink before taking him into your mouth. The taste is salty, a mix of his precum and something else, something almost elemental, as if the sea still clings to him. It sends a shiver down your spine, urging you to lose yourself in the act. You move with intent, your lips and tongue working in unison, breathing deeply through your nose as you take him deeper, each stroke making his body tremble beneath you.
He gasps your name, his voice barely a whisper, like it’s the only thing tethering him to the moment. His hands find their way to your hair, gentle, not controlling—just resting there as if he’s entranced by the sight of you. He glances down, watching the way your mouth moves over him, and his breath quickens, as if the very air has become too thin.
“Fuck,” he groans, voice strained, “you’re so damn good at this.”
You smirk inwardly, already knowing, but the praise sends a thrill through you. There’s something intoxicating about the way he fills your mouth, the way you feel him pulse against your tongue. It makes you wonder how your pussy will take him, how it’ll feel when he’s buried deep inside you, stretching you wide.
You’re making a mess of him—your saliva slicks his length, dripping down onto the sheets—but you don’t care. Not when he’s like this, writhing beneath you, his muscles taut with need. Your hand moves lower, cupping his balls, rolling them gently in your palm, and you feel them tighten as he draws closer to the edge.
“Damn,” he rasps, voice rough with desire, “you look and feel so fucking amazing.”
The sound of his praise sends another wave of heat rushing through you, making you wetter, a needy ache building low in your belly. You take him deeper, determined, your throat tightening as you try to swallow him down. But your gag reflex protests, and you pull back slightly, not wanting to push too far. Instead, you focus on teasing the head, your tongue circling slowly before flicking across his sensitive frenulum. He groans sharply, his hips jerking, and you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you.
He’s unraveling, his control slipping, and you love it—love the power you hold over him in this moment, love seeing him lost in you.
Suddenly, his hands come to your cheeks, stilling your movements as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. “Baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with both lust and affection, “you’re dangerous with that mouth. If you keep going, I’m going to come right down your throat… and I want to make love and come inside you.”
You release him with a soft pop, a teasing smirk playing on your lips as you lick them slowly, savoring the taste of him. “You can always come down my throat later,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry. Rising to your feet, you peel off your shirt, followed by the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your breasts spill free, and the heat in Namjoon’s gaze intensifies as his hands instinctively find your hips, his grip firm yet tender.
“Is every inch of you just perfect?” he breathes, awe in his voice. The compliment sends a flush of warmth to your cheeks, and you chuckle softly, not answering because his words feel rhetorical, like they’re part of the worship that’s building between you.
Instead, you lean down to kiss him, pouring every bit of your desire into it. His cock twitches beneath you, hard and throbbing against your thighs, but you take your time, savoring the kiss—long, slow, and tender. You straddle him, hovering just above his cock, your body aching to sink down, to feel him inside you. But instead, you pause, letting yourself get lost in the depth of his gaze, his eyes like molten gold, swirling with emotion.
He kisses you again, his lips soft but insistent, and in that moment, you feel weightless. Like you’re floating, caught in a current, drifting between pleasure and affection. You feel cherished, like a treasure he’s unearthed from the depths of the ocean—glimmering, precious, and adored like the gems you’ve been collecting.
He groans, a deep, feral sound vibrating from his chest, and his hands tighten around your hips, the pressure promising bruises that’ll bloom as tender reminders of this moment. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, baby,” he pants, his eyes dark and hooded with lust, as if he’s trying to memorize every curve of your face. His lips search for yours, hungry, desperate to close the space between you again.
“Likewise,” you breathe out, your voice shaky, your pulse racing. One of your hands trails down his body, fingers grazing his taut abdomen before wrapping around the thick length of him. You lift yourself slightly, feeling the heat of him against you. Just as you’re about to guide him inside, his deep voice cuts through the haze of desire.
“Should we use a condom?” he asks, his words momentarily shattering the tension, leaving the air thick but still.
You blink, slightly caught off guard, but quickly recover. “We don’t have to,” you murmur, sensing his hesitation. His brow furrows, so you add, “I have an IUD, and I’m clean. It’s… it’s been a long time for me.” Your words taper off, embarrassment creeping into your cheeks, suddenly feeling vulnerable beneath his gaze.
He studies you for a second, his expression softening before that same, dark hunger returns. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure,” he rumbles, his voice like molten velvet, sending shivers racing down your spine. The sound of him, the depth of his tone, makes your body respond instinctively—your pussy clenches with anticipation, aching for him to fill the emptiness inside you. “It’s been a long time for me, too. So, I’m sorry if I don’t last long…”
You shake your head, silencing his concern with a gaze that speaks louder than words. You need him, now. The heat between you both is unbearable, every second a sweet kind of torture. You guide the head of his cock to your entrance, teasing yourself by gliding him along your folds, feeling his hardness slick against your wetness, sending delicious tremors through your body.
Slowly, you position him at your opening and sink down.
The stretch is exquisite—a burn that ignites every nerve as he fills you inch by glorious inch. He’s thick, and the sensation of him sliding deeper feels like nothing you’ve ever known. Your breath catches in your throat, and you swear you hear him curse under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening as he savors the feel of your walls closing around him.
“Fuck…,” he groans, his voice wrecked, vibrating through you like a shockwave. “So damn tight.”
“Yeah…” you pant, your head spinning, your body adjusting to his size. Inch by agonizing inch, until finally, he’s fully seated inside you. You pause, trembling, your insides fluttering as he twitches deep within. You let out a soft moan, your lips searching for his in a fevered kiss, one that feels more like a collision than anything tender.
When you pull away, your gaze locks with his, your voice barely above a whisper. “You feel so fucking good… like you’ve always belonged there.”
He hums in response, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he traces your body with his hands, unable to take in enough of you. “You’re perfect,” he breathes, the words low and reverent.
Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you lift yourself slowly, your body trembling with anticipation. Then, with a burst of need, you slam down, impaling yourself on his cock, a scream of pleasure ripping from your throat. Namjoon moans, the sound guttural and raw, as you ride him with renewed vigor, losing yourself in the rhythm.
Your breasts bounce with each thrust, catching his attention, and without hesitation, his hands move to cup them. His lips trail down to one nipple, his mouth warm and eager as he takes it between his lips. You gasp at the sensation, a surge of heat flooding your core, and you feel a gush of wetness coat him as your body responds to his touch. You didn’t realize you’d come until the tremors hit, your pussy clenching tightly around him, your body quivering in waves of pleasure.
His tongue circles your nipple, flicking it gently before his teeth graze the sensitive bud, and the sensation sends you spiraling. Your breath stutters as he switches to your other breast, his hands roaming, kneading your skin, every touch heightening the electricity between you. Just as his mouth closes around your other nipple, his teeth accidentally bite down harder than intended, and a sharp cry escapes your lips—his name, ripped from your throat like a plea and a curse all at once.
He freezes, eyes wide, concern flashing across his face. But the look you give him—wild, consumed with lust—tells him everything he needs to know.
“I’m so fucking sorry—,” he gasps, but his words barely register through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. Your gaze softens, your eyes half-lidded with desire, a gentle delirium swirling in their depths.
“No, no, it was good, Joonie,” you whisper, your voice a breathy melody. Your hand drifts to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in the damp strands of his hair, tugging lightly. “I loved it.”
He pauses, a chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest, and you feel the twitch of his cock still buried inside you, a silent promise of more. His lips descend to your chest again, worshipping your skin with slow, languid kisses. His tongue finds your nipple, teasing it with a delicate flick before sucking, nipping just enough to make you moan his name, the sound a song on your lips.
Your body trembles, another orgasm crashing over you like a summer storm, your walls tightening around him in waves of bliss. He groans, a low, primal sound vibrating through your entire being. “Fuck, you—” His voice breaks with need as he rises from the bed, lifting you effortlessly, his body still entwined with yours. In one swift motion, he turns and lays you back down, pressing you into the sheets, his hips surging forward with raw intensity.
“This fucking pussy,” he growls, the words so feral, so laced with hunger that it sends a jolt of heat through you, your toes curling as your body responds to the deep, relentless thrusts. You moan, overwhelmed by the sensation of being pushed up the bed, your fingers gripping the sheets in desperation. Could you come again? Already, your body is teetering on the edge, caught in the rhythm of his passion.
He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “You look so gorgeous, baby,” he rasps, each word dripping with lust as his hips drive into you again, leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as though all the air has been stolen from your lungs.
“Are you gonna come again?” he asks, his voice rough with need. You bite your lip, uncertain if you can, but the fire in your core tells you otherwise. Your hand slips between your bodies, fingers seeking out your clit. Everything is so slick, so impossibly wet, but you manage to find that perfect rhythm, circling the sensitive nub as your breath hitches in your throat.
It’s like the tide pulling you under—a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you with blinding force. Your orgasm overtakes you, your body shaking beneath him as you cry out his name, each syllable a desperate plea, a prayer to the god of ecstasy. You thrash beneath him, lost in the throes of release, and still, he keeps thrusting, deep and deliberate, as your body flutters around him, the aftershocks rippling through you.
“Fuck, that was so hot,” he groans, his voice thick with desire as his cock twitches inside you, on the edge of release. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his warm seed filling you as his orgasm hits him hard, his body trembling with the force of it. His face—god, it’s beautiful in this moment—the way his lips part, how his brow furrows in pleasure, how he keeps moving, riding out the last waves of his climax until he begins to soften inside you.
Both of you are left panting, gasping for air like you’ve surfaced from the depths of the sea. He collapses beside you, pulling you close, your bodies still warm, still trembling. Your chests rise and fall in sync, the silence between you heavy with shared satisfaction.
“That was amazing,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp against your ear.
You chuckle, cheeks flushed and glowing. “Yes… we should definitely do that again.”
He turns on his side, his fingers brushing your arm tenderly as he gazes at you, eyes filled with warmth. “We really should.”
But then, out of nowhere, a ripple of anxiety courses through you, tightening your chest. You turn to him, your heart suddenly heavy. “Can we really make this work?” you ask, your voice small, vulnerable. “You, being a merman… and me, human?”
Namjoon’s expression softens, his gaze tender as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. His hands trace soothing circles along your back, grounding you in the moment. “Yes,” he whispers, his voice filled with quiet certainty. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll make it work. We have to.”
In his arms, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, the world feels possible again.
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→ Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld @bangtannie7 @suker4angst → Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AI— I just want to point that out, to clear the air. I’d normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan 😭 Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the merman— I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the banner— did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that I’m making them myself, I still sometimes use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work (the banners)). → Author’s note(2): Only four mermaid stories left now! 🥳I hope you’ll like the other ones as well, and please let me know what you liked; you’re always welcome to leave me a comment, a reblog or an ask 🥰 Thank you so much for reading, love you 💜
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yandere-wishes · 5 months ago
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⚜ 𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖! 𝕂𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕩 ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤! ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 ⚜
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Been kinda depressed lately so this was all I could come up with.
⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ : "Player of Games" by Grimes
𐙚 Would you still love me? Out on Europa? ~💜
☆★☆★☆★☆
𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽��, whose lust for adventure leads him on a dangerous quest to rescue a poor kidnapped princess from the clutches of a deranged dragon. He's only ever sought out the thrill of the hunt, an adrenalin junkie desperate for the next rush. Fighting beasts and exploring new lands all for the sake of frivolity and adventure. But this time...this time things are different. His heart beats between his teeth when he catches a rogue glimpse of the fair maiden seated by the etched window. From the first look, he knows he'll fight hordes of monsters in her name, bring giants to their knees to gain her favor. From the first look, he knows he's in love...
𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, who kills the dragon and carries the princess home. All the way breathing in her intoxicating scent, he dreams of running his calloused fingers through her silky hair and whispering sweet poems of devotion into her ears. He asks for her hand from the king, practically begging him to let her be his bride. He needs her, more than anything else in this unholy world he needs her.
𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, who still craves adventure even when he's married. Who drives himself crazy on the lost tunes of adventures. Beckoning, beseeching, it's as if demons screech within his cranium. He needs to feel the familiar cool of metal nipping at his flesh. To feel the weight of his sword within his palm once more. So he leaves. if only for a short time. Promising to bring his lover treasures unimaginable. If only it were that simple.
𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, who loses himself to the thrill once more. Fighting for a darling who is locked away again. He promises he's not the dragon, not some monster trying to keep her stowed away. She's back home with the king and queen ruling over a kingdom. It just so happens that her lover is fighting for that kingdom. Traversing new lands and bringing back priceless treasures. He does it all for her because he loves her
Maybe that's why it stings so bad when -on the rare occasion he's back home- his darling tells him, that she's been engaged once more. This time to a prince. The Knight has his fair share of scars, he's been wounded countless times. Yet memories recall no such wound that hurts as much as this one. When his darling informed him of her eagerness to be married off to a proper prince. It takes all his willpower to not strangle her then and there. The love of his life is to be married off to a spoiled brat who knows not of sword fighting and war. A boy seeped in gold and dotted on his whole life. He wouldn't be a good husband, he's too soft, too frail. He'd run once the monsters came. A mere prince can't protect his darling as he can.
𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, whose madness runs deep. He kills the king, the queen, and the prince. Declaring himself overlord. Conquer, conquer, conquer. It's the only way he knows to keep his darling by his side. His darling is a queen now. A queen in shackles and chains, but a queen never the less and one who will forever remain by his side.
𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, who doesn't mind ruling as much as he previously thought. Who enjoys having his darling perched on his iron-clad lap as he proposes plans to capture new beasts for the kingdom's army. Who watches as his -and his darling's- kingdom prospers under their leadership. At night he holds her tightly, intoxicating himself with her sweet perfume once more. His heart races when he recalls how close he was to losing her.
𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, who is left heartbroken and enraged when he finds out his darling has escaped. Who hunts her down through enchanted woods and cursed terrains. When he finally catches her, he can't help but be reminded of chess, a move where the queen is finally captured. He kisses her deeply, wholly, trying to drown her in his love. Has she forgotten the romance they once shared? Has she forgotten the lengths he was gone -and will still go- for her? Oh, how careless he had been...
𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, who will do anything for his precious princess, his darling queen, his beloved. Who will remind her just how emphatic his love truly is...
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styrmwb · 4 months ago
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References to Previous Final Fantasies in Dawntrail
Or, how 9 + 11 + 6 = 14, somehow. (SPOILERS, OBVIOUSLY)
I've played every mainline FF, plus a few others, so one of my favorite things about playing XIV is seeing what they do with previous FFs, and how they incorporate it into the world/story. Dawntrail very very much did this, to the point that I could literally predict plot points before they happened. (THIS IS NOT A COMPLAINT I LOVED THIS)
So I figured I would put down my fanboying in text form, for people to read the insanity of a madman who has played too many JRPGs from a single series.
Note: I have not completed every single side quest, but I have done the entire MSQ, every dungeon, and 3/5 of the role quests. This isn't a complete collection, just what I noticed :)
V
Krile's "real name" is Maya. The original Krile in FFV was Krile Meyer Baldesion. (XIV might also have the middle name but I don't remember! I'm gonna put it here regardless!)
VI
Valigarmanda is the first Esper you encounter in VI, right at the start of the game. Its summon attack is Tri-Disaster. I really liked how they kept it frozen in ice, just like the original, and because Tri-Disaster is a SMN ability, they changed it to Tulidisaster to fit the Tural location.
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Pictomancer was first in VI as well, being Relm's job. She even got to be in XIV as well, being credited as the Archon who created the art (HA). Shoutouts to the Relm reborn joke it needed to happen
IX
One of the two most important games in this expansion. There is A Lot here.
The preorder bonus/deluxe edition had a Wind-Up Zidane and Garnet, the two main protagonists of FFIX.
Alexandria is lifted directly from IX. The name, the style of the buildings, and even the castle with the crystal popping out of the top, shown in the dungeon and in Yesterland in Living Memory.
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(This is the Dissidia NT version, but I wanted a picture that showed the castle and the roof architecture)
Solution Nine is named after one of Zidane's Dyne abilities. While not direct, Living Memory, the final zone, is very reminiscent of Memoria, the final dungeon of IX. I wonder if you can get a special sword by completing the entire MSQ in under 2 hours?
Living Memory also features quite a few locations from IX. The Canal Town looks very similar to Treno, and features a location called the Daguerreo Medical Collection, named after the city as well. Underneath Proto Alexandria in Yesterland, where the data terminal lies, looks very similar to the part of Alexandria Castle where Steiner can grind to level 99 (I don't know how else to describe it if you know you know). In the Windspath Gardens lies the Cleyra Museum of Nature, also named after the IX city.
Some quest text in Living Memory tells you about other locations in the Unlost World. Lindblum, the city that holds hunts and is very technologically advanced; Conde Petie, where the Dwarves are from (mentioned by a Milalla who said he was from there), and the Iifa Tree. There might even be more here, that I either missed or haven't done yet.
Another quest has you go on a treasure hunt for a password. This password? "I Want to Be Your Canary", the play from FFIX.
Solution Nine has a couple buildings with monsters from IX as signs. One building features a Mu (Which is also mentioned in Living Memory), and another building features Yans, both friendly and not friendly.
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Another monster that I noticed a reference to was the Gimme Cat, which is featured on the popcorn in Living Memory. It's also mentioned as an energy drink, but called a "Gimme Bat" instead? I guess it does have bat wings.
While XIV doesn't have any direct plot important characters from IX, the ones we do have are very reminiscent of its cast, and clearly are done like that on purpose.
Otis is Steiner (with maybe a little tiny bit of Beatrix depending on how you look at it). Captain of the Knights of Alexandria, he speaks in an older fashion, similar to Steiner, and is very loyal to his princess.
Sphene is an interesting mix. The most obvious one is Garnet, both being Queens of Alexandria, being named after stones, and loving their people. The other one, which might be argued isn't intended, is Garland.
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(No, not those guys. The other one.)
Garland in IX is an artificial being whose purpose is to continue his world's life. To do this, he would try to fuse Terra (his planet), with Gaia (the main planet), and control Gaian souls for Terra instead. What did Sphene do? Try to fuse her reflection with the Source, to use their souls for her own people. I personally think this is a very clear similarity.
In general, because of this similarity, the latter half of Dawntrail shares very similar themes with IX's plots, dealing with death and souls. I also think it's pretty funny that both start out pretty happy and cartoony, and end fairly depressing and existential.
Another plot point used in the MSQ is the play sequence. While IX's is based off love, and XIV's is the history of Alexandria, both feature a sword fight scene. (99 out of 100 nobles approve).
Finally, several songs from IX are used in Dawntrail. In the above mentioned play, Swords of Fury plays, just like the original. And a few scenes later, Vamo'alla Flamenco (previously used for the DNC quests) plays, though it should have been during the sword fight!! Prima Vista Orchestra and Fleeting Life are used in several scenes, usually involving Sphene. Something to Protect also appears, but in a scene I can't recall. Finally, the Court Jesters' theme gets a remix as the main song in the Strayborough Deadwalk.
X
There is a singular joke in Heritage Found made about dodging lightning bolts right before the flash so they don't hit you. The person who wrote this line wanted to induce PTSD in as many people as they could with only a single line of dialogue.
XI
The other most important game in the expansion. In a way, Dawntrail FEELS like it could have been an XI expansion in another lifetime. I might be looking too much into it, but I feel as though this was foreshadowed back in the first patch of Endwalker, as Dawntrail takes A LOT from the Treasures of Aht Urhgan expansion.
In Endwalker, the Alzadaal's Legacy dungeon was based off of the Alzadaal Underwater Ruins in Aht Urhgan. The dungeon used many models from XI, such as the Rampart, the Xzomit (hell yes!), and the Acrolith. The dungeon had a visual similarity, as well as the areas in the dungeon being named after zones in Aht Urhgan (Bhaflau Thickets, Arrapago Reef, and Mount Zhayolm). I know this is Endwalker and not Dawntrail but trust me it's important for the foreshadowing.
Gulool Ja Ja was a boss in the Besieged mode of ToAU, leading the Mamool Ja Savages to assault Al Zahbi. Both incarnations of this character are VERY different from each other.
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Similarly, Gurfurlur was also a boss in Besieged, leading the Troll Mercenaries. It's very funny to me that both of these warmongers became such nice people in Tural.
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The Yok Huy as a whole are actually Trolls from XI. The different name I assume coming from the fact that Trolls are already an enemy in XIV, in Labyrinthos.
While this isn't direct, and is probably unintentional, the fact that the final boss in Vanguard was a naga/lamia like entity only makes me wonder if it was somehow a callback to Medusa and the Undead Swarm, the last remaining Besieged invaders.
Zoraal Ja is a Notorious Monster in the areas around Aht Urhgan.
To continue on with Mamool Ja facts, Mamook is an area in ToAU. They don't look very similar, but they do both share the title of Autarch as their ruler. Mamool Ja in general come from XI, so it's no surprise that in the expansion that well, expands on them, it uses XI for inspiration.
This next one might be a little insane. The general plot of Treasures of Aht Urhgan, is that after killing Promathia, a god that wishes to end all life, the Adventurer goes to a completely different area to have a relatively calmer adventure. Here, they meet a female member of royalty named Aphmau. Her brother, Razfahd, unable to rule over the country, has a conquering nature, and uses an Automaton body to control Alexander for his goals. This... can't be a coincidence, right?? We kill the Endsinger, who wanted to end all life, go to a completely different area to have a relatively calmer adventure with our female member of royalty, Wuk Lamat, and we fight against Zoraal Ja, her war hungry brother that is unable to rule, so he uses the power of Alexandria (a mech suit) for his goals. You... you see what I'm cooking here right??? RIGHT!?!?!
To piggyback off of this, Wuk Lamat very much fits the role of the XI heroine. A girl who is very clearly the main character of the story, and hangs around you more than anyone else.
Edit: one last thing that I forgot to put down before posting, one of the hunts uses the Magic Pot model from XI. We love Magic Pot.
I THINK that should be everything I found? I know for a fact we're going to get more since the Alliance Raids are based of off XI (I'm so excited)
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XIII
A couple enemy models were used from XIII.
The Silver Lobos in Urqopacha use the XIII model. I'm fairly sure they've never been used in XIV yet, but I could be wrong.
Similarly, the Strayborough Deadwalk uses the Gremlin/Ahriman enemies. I do not think they've been used before this, feel free to yell at me if I'm wrong :)
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Type-0
While not like, direct, the concept of erasing the memories of anyone who has died (especially seen as a blessing) was a major plot point of Type-0's world.
I think that's everything? My memory isn't the greatest, so I'm sure there's something I noticed that I missed, and again; I haven't done everything, so there might be even more out there that I've yet to find!
Please, feel free to comment anything else that you may have noticed, and hopefully you enjoyed reading :)
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ultimablades · 4 months ago
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I’ve been slowly working thru Dawntrail side quests and I did one last night called “once a riddler, now a ruler” in Tuliyollal. And it’s an attendant who gives you a riddle for a treasure hunt that Koana originally wrote for Wuk Lamat when they were kids 😭😭😭
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The clues weren’t hard and at the end of the quest you find this
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And then when you bring it back to the attendant
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Dear reader, I love them 😭
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joanquill · 9 months ago
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Valentine's Day Headcanons
How the Moriarty brothers and Sherlock ask their significant other to be their Valentine's and how they would spend the day with them.
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Albert, William, Louis James Moriarty, and Sherlock Holmes
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Albert James Moriarty
The day Albert was planning to ask you to be his Valentine, you were out on a mission.
Ever the opportunist, he took the chance to surprise you when you came home.
When you entered the manor, the entrance was lit with romantic candlelight, rose petals on the ground, and Albert holding a bouquet of roses as soft music played.
Albert happily showed you what he had prepared for your evening.
The dining room had a table decorated, sporting candles and flowers in the middle. It even had neatly folded napkins, as if you were in a high-end restaurant.
The bathroom even had a bathtub filled with bubbles and scented candles.
By the end of dinner, he asked you to be his Valentine, which you happily agreed to.
He definitely has something grand planned for the occasion.
Unfortunately, some nobles started making their move, making you and Albert work on a mission.
Nothing says romance like hunting down corrupt nobles <3
Luckily, you two finished before the end of the day and had time for Albert's plans for Valentine's.
It might be weird to see you two run towards the train station while laughing, but you both didn't care and were relieved to catch the last train.
The rest of the trip went smooth sailing... if you ignore the fact that you forgot to pack some essentials.
Nothing a shopping trip couldn't fix.
Either way, it was a Valentine's you couldn't forget.
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William James Moriarty
I think William's way of asking would be either of the two, simple and sweet, or a full-on treasure hunt... or both!
He will ask you on a library date inside the manor to unwind and relax for the afternoon.
The only thing is, the book you picked had a note inside.
It was a riddle, and you could tell at first glance it was William's little game.
You looked for him and saw him acting innocent as he read his book in his nook.
You playfully rolled your eyes as you played along to his game, making William hide his smile as he tried to focus on his book.
Each clue was filled with memories and inside jokes only the two of you shared, leading you to the last clue, which only told you to turn around and answer a question.
You did as it said and saw William holding a basket of lilies and your favorite things.
He asked you to be his Valentine's, and you happily said yes.
On the day, you and William visited Durham University and enjoyed the sights and date spots his students happily suggested.
While you two enjoyed the day, you didn't expect avoiding his students to be a side quest.
You also heard some of them joking about catching their professor on a date, hoping he would heed their advice.
Good thing William came prepared with disguises.
As the sun was about to set, William led you to the university, letting you guess what his last surprise was.
While sneaking into Durham University to use the observatory for stargazing was not one of your guesses, it was definitely a delightful experience.
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Louis James Moriarty
He practiced asking you in person countless times in front of the mirror.
How to approach you, making sure he was saying it right, not fumbling in his words, and asking you confidently.
In the morning, he tried to approach you, but he either backed out at the last minute, you two were busy with chores, or someone else was in the room.
He tried to ask again at lunch while you were preparing the food, but Master Jack entered the kitchen, offering a helping hand.
Night came, and Louis was practically defeated.
But he settled in leaving you an extra treat during dinner to ask you instead.
It didn't help his nerves when you sat beside him at the dinner table, though.
As Louis prepared everyone's desserts, you had an extra small plate of elegant chocolate-covered strawberries with chocolate syrup writing: "Will you be my Valentine's?"
In shock, you looked at Louis, who was facing away from you as he gave everyone their dessert.
You smiled as you waited for him to finish.
As Louis gave the last dessert, he hurriedly over to his spot, trying to avoid your gaze as he sat down.
You softly tugged his sleeve and whispered yes, making Louis freeze up as he tried to settle down his burning face.
Fortunately, everyone thought he just had too much to drink that night.
For Valentine's Day, Louis prepared a cozy date for you two to enjoy in the manor. (his brothers made sure no one would bother you two on the day)
Cooking together, making chocolate, trying new recipes, dancing while no one's looking, reading books, snuggling under the covers, and just spending the whole day together sums up your Valentine's.
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Sherlock Holmes
Romance isn't exactly this man's forte.
You were walking to 221B Baker Street as Sherlock asked you, but you were surprised to see no one was there.
You carefully walked up to their flat and saw the surprise on the table.
He will most likely leave a real human heart in a glass container with a card saying: "Will you be my Valentine's?" to ask you.
How is it still beating in there? You will never know.
But hey, at least he's got the spirit!
When you check the card, you see it had instructions to open a specific drawer.
Debating whether to ignore or follow along and be greeted by a human brain, you complied and opened the drawer carefully.
Inside were paper iris flowers, a small teddy bear, chocolates, and a pen with another card written Yes and No on it.
You circled yes.
You found out he, John, and Miss Hudson were hiding nearby, unsure how to face you if you didn't agree (despite already dating)
If there isn't a case during Valentine's, he'll likely have a date all over London. He'll take you to places and spots he saw or visited during investigations and wanted to take you there.
During your date, he'll probably get you the most random stuff he wants to give you, ranging from random flowers to a peculiar antique he'd think you like or wants you to have.
When a case does come up, he'll try to put it on hold. But you could tell he really wanted to take it, so your date became an investigation.
He still tries to make it romantic and fun for both of you, thanking you for letting him work, but you reassured him it was still fun watching him deduce and work on a case.
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dailyadventureprompts · 8 months ago
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Adventure: Along the Road of Nameless Graves
Presiding over a series of forested foothills and mountainous valleys that divide two rival kingdoms, the mist-shrouded barony of Siirvyn has seen more than its share of war over the past generations. Betrayal, invasion, and massacre are all too common motifs in the barony's long history, leaving all sorts of scars on both the landscape and the people who dwell within it.
Adventure Hooks:
Rumours of a treasure draw the party to Siirvyn, apparently concealed in a vault beneath the ruined castle of a long dead baroness Taviaa. Surely it won't be too hard to locate a single ruin in a land frequently beset by war, right?
The party arn't the only one combing across the barony looking for something. A hardluck knight seeks her brother after he vanished on a foolish quest, and might be willing to help the party out of jam if they aid her in search.
Folk of the barony tell of Grimcackle, a great black winged beast that moorlands that's sometimes heard laughing over the desolate battlefields but is only ever seen by the lost and the desperate. To heed the old stories it plunders the old battlefields of it's choicest riches, hoarding the wealth of the dead over centuries of war.
Subquest 1:
The party's hunt for riches gets complicated after arriving in the region to find that there has been no less than eight baroness Taviaas over the past century(backwater fiefdoms do like tradition after all) with five castles between them. Most have been destroyed by disaster, neglect, or siege, leaving the party to trek across the land checking checking out each option (though a clever party might narrow their search by hitting the local archives and cross referencing historical accounts).
Potential ruins include:
The delapidated lair of the local owlbear
Huanted by the ghost of one of the baronesses Taviaa,
The Hideout of a gang of smugglers with far reaching ties
Thoroughly cursed by a battlefield savaging spriggan who deals in cursed weapons.
To make matters even more complicated, one of the castles has been restored by the current baron Arkolo who would likely not take kindly to a band of renegade sellswords pilfering riches from under his nose, forcing the party to avoid it entirely or risk getting thrown in the dungeon if caught.
Subquest 2:
Ser Riley of Breakbridge never expected to inherit the family title, her father favoured her elder brother Rhys far more, and when the old man died in the last war there was no question who his holdings would pass to. Then, a couple of years ago Rhys got it into his head that he needed to reclaim the family's ancestral sword which was lost in the same bloody battle that did their father in, crossing the mountains to scour old battlefields and not being seen since. After righting the mess Rhys caused by his chivalric absence, Riley has come to Siirvyn herself to drag him, or possibly his body back from his foolhardy quest. The party may run into her requesting aid from the Baron, seeking advice from the local shrine to Tyr, or drinking off another unsuccessful trek through the wilderness at the local tavern. She'd welcome their aid in her search, and would gladly pay them back by lending her blade to theirs in their search (or using her influence to spring them from the baron's dungeons, should they have been caught).
Rhys' trail snakes all across the barony (including leaving a journal in one of the ruins the party wanted to search), but terminates in the great barren battlefield that was his father's last stand. While searching these moorlands the party & Ser Riley will run into a band of armed scavengers apparently conducting their own body-hunt for one of their fallen comrades. They served on the opposite side of the war from Riley's family, and if that wasn't bad blood enough, they apparently came to blows with Rhys a little under a year ago and aim to settle the score with his sister.
Regardless of how the standoff plays out (talking the scavengers down and exchanging favours or beating the information out of them) the Next step is to find Grimcackle's nest. By now (especially if you're playing with my affliction system and the party is tired out from all their wandering across the countryside) the party will have realized that the only way to see the great raven is to be nearing the edge of death, whether through actively dying, being poisoned, or just being exhausted to the bone. This is because the great raven is infact a psychopomp, tasked with sorting out the dead from the region's innumerable wars. Once the party find the particular tor the dread raven uses as roost, they'll find him quite chatty in the way of most birds, happy to trade gossip or play show and tell with his many finds. Rhys did indeed come to challenge Grimcackle for the sword, an act of daring rudness that forced the psychopomp to drag the knight's soul to the purgatory it rightfully belonged.
Resigned by the love she bears her brother, Riley insists she must venture into the shadow to save him, leaving the party with the choice of convincing her to abandon her quest, leave her to her fruitless pursuit of honour, or risk it all alongside her for the sake of an idiot who thought he could convince an aspect of death to respect his pedigree.
Subquest 3:
After their harrowing adventure the party return to town to find that Baron Akolo has been assassinated and all of Siivyrn has been thrown into chaos and suspicion. Fingers point and depending who the blame lands on it might spell civil war or invasion for the backwoods barony once again.
Background: Both neighbouring powers wish to control who moves through the region's winding passes, and expend great effort in both war and peace to ensure the barony is favourable to them. While occupying armies and vassalage have been all too common in the past, the region's ostensibly independent ruler Baron Arkolo is a puppet in all but name for the winning side of the most recent war. Little more than a bandit leader during the conflict savaging battlefields and attacking supply lines on both sides, Arkolo saw the way the wind was blowing before anyone else and made himself indispensable to his current patrons before their inevitable victory.
Little more than a strongman at first, the newly elevated baron managed to ingratiate himself to his subjects by leveraging his outlaw status to cast himself as a hero fighting against the great powers rather than ruling on their behalf. All the while the canny old bandit was of course playing both sides, toadying to the victorious kingdom while helping to run the smuggling operation for their rivals.
Clues & Consequences:
The baron had a stormy relationship with his son and prospective heir Kalo, who came up raiding alongside his father. After the war however, the young man felt he'd had enough of violence renounced his possesisons and joined the secluded temple of Tyr as a means of making peace with his bloody past. Arkolo never approved of his son's taking the cloth, refused to name another heir and would frequently make pilgramage to the temple just to argue with him. Despite their years of contention however the had seemed to reconcile in recent months, becoming closer than ever. Kalo is not taking his father's murder well, and has decided to dust off his old bandit skills alongside his newfound connection to a wargod as a means of finding the killer. Like an angered bull, he's liable to charge at whoever draws his attention, a weakness the real culprit might use to direct him onto the party's trail.
Gareth Gosdown, the baron's advisor and castilian is an agent of their patron kingdom, sent to keep the former outlaw in line and the kingdom's garrisons well supplied. In the wake of Arkolo's death, he's less interested in finding the killer than he is reinforcing his masters' hold over the barony in case of a new invasion. Known for butting heads with the Baron's more slapdash ruling style he's the one the common folk are most likely to point to.
Taviaa (ninth of that name) was born to the Baron after he'd claimed the region and married one of the local nobles. Though still young, she has a cutthroat attitude and a mind for politics, which made it all the more frustrating when her father refused to give up on her pious half brother as heir and name her instead. She knows she's the obvious culprit, the case made all the more convincing by the fact that she's recently been paling around with emissaries from the other kingdom.
Art 1
Art 2
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enavstars · 1 year ago
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Some characters in the Cyberpunk au (part 1)
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I tried to make Echo and Zane more robot-like since robots are pretty much treated like people regardless of their appereance. And Garmadon's design is from when the rgb are kids so he's younger (he's not an Oni in this au).
Characters details from within the story:
Echo
Echo is created by a younger Julien (like in his 30s) as a test run for his project to build himself an assistant to deal with his chronic disease, which, despite not being deadly per se, it could still leave him impaired in the long run and therefore he needed some sort of safe net just in case.
But sadly, the prototype's AI ends up being deficient for his purpose as he is not able to process neither human emotions nor their needs, so after much deliberation, Julien decides to set him free rather than letting him collect dust in his storage.
However, Echo could not fit into the city's human society either, as people would not accept his strange speech nor behavior. This eventually culminated in an assault by one of the problematic gangs that sprouted up after the crisis, where they thrashed the helpless robot relentlessly and even managed to damage his voice module. He then was trashed out to the Outside, and from there, mauled and hopeless, he wandered aimlessly and without a purpose in life for a long time.
But at one point through his senseless journey, he stumbled upon a couple of abandoned kids crying in the middle of the woods. Even though he did not understand what their tears meant, he was curious, so from then on he started acting as their guardian.
Thanks to them, slowly but surely he began to learn about human emotions and, as he could only do little beeps to communicate, he also figured out a way to communicate without words. Although sometimes he was still lacking as a caregiver, he worked hard to develop the necessary skills to look after their (newly discovered) basic human needs, like fishing and hunting. He even takes a third kid in after Kai and Nya find another lost boy in the woods and convince him to keep him.
As they grow, he also begins to teach them how to be self-sufficient, because he is painfully aware that he would never be capable of being a better parent due to his poor programming. It is in this context when, years later when Echo finds a potential job opportunity as the ferryman to the city, the RGB urge him to take the chance, knowing that he wants to work to feel more useful and wanting to have more solo adventures.
Even though he was reluctant to leave them behind, he is now the happiest he's ever been and still looks after his children whenever they need him (even going so far as to risk his job) out of his gratitude for granting him another chance in his doomed life.
Ronin
Currently retired, he used to be a renowned mercenary and bounty hunter in his youth. However, he gradually gained more and more enemies and got himself into more and more dangerous trouble (which is why he’s a full cyborg now), until eventually, battered and grown past the age of peak physical strength, he decided to quit to save his ass.
From then on, he started looking after the demon children around the most miserable parts of their struggling segregated neighborhood in exchange for minor treasure hunts; this is why he is now protected from his remaining enemies, as many of them grew up to become members of some of the local gangs (also as an added bonus Garmadon is a pretty ominous legend and people are kind of afraid of hurting demons because of him, but more on that later).
Although he lives rather isolated from the rest of society because of his (extensive) criminal record, he still manages to make ends meet with the treasures he got from all his exploits and the profits of the little side quests he tasks the children in exchange for his care.
No he’s not charity, he’s a wine uncle, but he is an asshole to everyone (especially humans) except the kids. In fact, even though he does not give out help for free, he always ends up rewarding them with his teachings and advice and about life on top of the food and shelter, so almost every child he's taken under his wing ends up becoming pretty competent to face the harsh society they live in.
And in particular, he grows to like the RGB a lot because he recognizes their wit and appreciates how cunning they can be, sometimes even negotiating with him and being capable enough to uno reverse his little tricks on the kids like they are equals (for example, Nya stealing her brother’s bionic eye blueprints to avoid being totally dependant on Ronin for maintenance).
In fact, later on when Nya introduces him to Jay (a human) to be his apprentice as a mechanic, she somehow convinces him despite his hate for his kind.
Bonus: when he meets Jay at first he’s irritated at him because he takes his fear and shyness as racism, but the kid is just intimidated by the sassy cyborg (don't worry, eventually he figures it out and the child grows on him, Jay is too cute).
(I will talk about Jay in my next post dw)
Zane (24NE)
He’s the successful final product of Julien’s project, a kind and refined assistance nindroid knowledgeable in human care. His role is very important to him, so when his father died he lost all purpose in life and, unable to deal with his grief on top of that existential crisis, he became depressed and stagnant, trapped in his own mind inside his creator’s abandoned home and slowly wasting away due to his mental stress and a lack of maintenance now that nobody could look after him.
And he stayed in that sorry state until the RGB found the house and, upon looting it for supplies, Nya stumbled upon the nindroid lying dormant next to Julien’s bed. When she wakes him up, his rusty voice module is damaged and he can’t speak properly (Julien is shit at making those apparently), so she repairs it as best as she can and as a result, he eventually becomes their friend.
Although they were wary at first, they understood his situation, and in the end they decided to help him by introducing him to Doctor Rashid (an oc) to learn more about biology and medicine.
Speaking of, I’ll talk more about Dr. Rashid in another future post but basically he’s an oc of mine I inserted in this au, a friend of Kai and Nya’s and sort of a parental figure.
Garmadon
He is an elusive red-eyed demon, the rarest of his kind, and a criminal brought to legendary status. Now vanished and rarely ever seen amongst the city shadows, he used to be an undefeatable wandering warrior. He would spread chaos everywhere he went and, along the way, he would mercilessly murder anyone opposed to the Demon’s Rights movement.
However, one day he disappeared suddenly from the face of the earth. But his legacy carries on to this day: he is feared universally, considered an antihero by his followers and a bloodthirsty criminal by the rest.
A few months after his disappearance, though, a human woman named Misako gave birth to a demon child with ominous red eyes. Soon, people started making the connection and his mother, who by that point had developed a deep hatred towards demons, was put under such public scrutiny that she ended up abandoning him on the Outside to leave behind the city and her trauma along with it.
Sadly for Garmadon, it was too late when he finally learned that he had a son. He’d left Misako pregnant without either of them knowing, and after he was gone she had been unable to reach him. For that reason, when he came back to the city years later and at last he found out, in the end he decided to let Lloyd be with his new family, as he he realized he had no right to take him in after being absent the entirety of his short life when he already had the two loving siblings looking after him.
After that, he turned back to his wandering, and he was barely ever seen again.
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occasionalsnippets · 6 months ago
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Do you have any new fic recs?
Uhh no notes for this time because i'm busy but fic rec part 2 :)
again mix of stuff, gen, romance, x reader, etc etc. some of the crossovers are in random sections b/c i can't be bothered to have a whole separate thing for each crossover
check back in like 2 years maybe for another list
Mashle
Mashig! [Quotev]
Easton’s Prefect Trio and a Round of Old Maid [AO3]
KNY
Determination [Quotev]
Candid [Quotev]
beware the dust devil. [AO3]
The life and times of Kibutsuji Muzan, Bored Immortal Guy [AO3]
the awakening of the demon king [AO3]
BNHA
An Unexpected Training Trip [AO3] [Naruto crossover]
The Future's Keeper [Quotev]
Record of Ragnorak
Ganymede [Quotev]
Obey Me
The Idiot [Quotev]
One Piece
World-Seeing Eyes [Quotev]
Black Butler
my soul, you know it aches for you [Quotev]
DC
Hush, little baby, don't say a word [AO3]
The Art of Mortal Quests [AO3] [Percy Jackson Crossover]
what goes around [AO3]
Ain't No Compass, Ain't No Map [AO3]
DP x DC
Unable to Forward [AO3]
The Peacock Chronicles [AO3]
Putting the Joy in Joyride [AO3]
Dead Man Walking [AO3]
If You Give a Bat a Burger [AO3]
Danny the Intern [AO3]
Wait, I'm a what? [AO3
Ghost in the Morgue [AO3]
Bus to Nowhere [AO3]
DC x Marvel
Untangling the Web [AO3]
Help Me, I Don't Feel Like Myself Anymore [AO3]
Spider and Bat Friends [AO3]
Dark Matter [AO3]
Undertale
Ghost Hunting With Skeletons [AO3]
Help, I've Fallen Into a Surveillance State and I Can't Get Up! [AO3]
Turn The Page [AO3]
with you here between [AO3]
bon courage [AO3]
JJBA
passione speedrun any percent (world record) [AO3]
Naruto
Healthy Coping Mechanisms [AO3]
Last Resort [AO3] [DC crossover]
complete disarray [AO3]
Morpheme [AO3]
JJK
limited vision [AO3]
obito and jjk is occupying my brain and in this essay i will [AO3] [Naruto crossover]
TWST
Team Building Exercises [AO3]
You Will Understand Now That Yours Is Unique in All the World [AO3]
Isekai as the Side Character Destined for Intoxication [AO3]
the seven habits of highly unfortunate souls: a transmigrator’s guide to the coral sea [AO3]
Debut or Die
I must debut (or die) [AO3]
RESET [AO3]
Vacation [AO3]
Date or Die! [AO3]
Shokugeki no Soma
and only the bitterness remains. [AO3]
SVSSS
The Cultivating Force [AO3] [Star Wars crossover]
Misinformation [AO3]
Master of Dual Cultivation [AO3]
Scum Villain's White Lotus Halo [AO3]
how to avoid love for dummies [AO3]
ORV
bet i made you look [AO3]
The Reborn Villainess Can't Possibly Be This Cute! [AO3]
One Kim Dokja to Rule them All [AO3]
you got me starstruck [AO3]
“You are loved,” said Yoo Jonghyuk. “This is a threat,” said Yoo Jonghyuk. [AO3]
TCF
black dragons and white crowns [AO3]
THE GOD'S SYSTEM [AO3]
What Lies ahead [AO3]
Amaranthine [AO3]
Treasure of the (Vampire) Duke's Family?! [AO3]
The Distress of the Middleman [AO3]
everybody talks [AO3]
0% Love [AO3]
Genshin Impact
𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑 [AO3]
Bleach
living, not breathing [AO3]
The Fourth Seat [AO3]
Indelible Stains [AO3]
半个花瓣 || Petal Fragment [AO3]
Nothing but the Truth [AO3]
Chilled Peaches [AO3]
Not exactly pushing daisies [AO3]
Bait and Switch [AO3]
The Unfought [AO3]
Sight [AO3]
Swinging Pendulum [AO3]
KnB
Ball Is Life, But You Still Need To Pay Rent [AO3]
Tokyo Revengers
all for one [AO3]
if trouble must come (let it come) [AO3]
Marbled Elbows [AO3]
Original
Chain Me Up, Darling [Quotev]
Anomalous [Quotev]
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thewertsearch · 1 year ago
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I love these combination names. Breath/Light is an interesting one, because the 'Mixolydian' implies a musical theme, and I thought Time was the musical Aspect. Maybe it's not that simple.
I'm also wondering if I should read into the prices here. Like, is the expensive Breath/Space combination the strongest? If so, does that mean Breath synergizes particularly well with Space?
I guess there's only so much you can glean from a single menu. For all I know, each shop has a random selection of Fraymotifs, with multiple combinations for each price tier.
I can't wait to see these in action - not least because the presence of combination moves implies the kids are going to start fighting as a team. That's a development which is well overdue.
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The Quest Bed isn't exactly hidden, is it?
I was assuming the god tier mechanics were obscure, since no one's brought them up before. Maybe the Quest Bed has other uses.
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EB: i am not sleepy at all! [...] AG: Would you like me to put you to sleep? [...] EB: you mean, you're asking me this time, instead of just doing it? EB: what happened to you wanting to be responsible for me becoming a hero! AG: John, I am clearly involved in your rise to power now regardless. That can't 8e changed! AG: I am giving you the option, 8ecause at some point a hero has to start making choices. AG: Once you take a 8r8k from hunting treasure and stop getting distracted 8y side quests, you eventually realize that's what this game is all a8out. AG: The choices you make affect the destiny of the universe you cre8te, as well as the type of hero you 8ecome.
Plus, you're modelling him as Better Tavros, so you're trying to make him a little more decisive.
I'm not sure what to make of all this talk about choices. The comic is really emphasizing it, but it really seems to fly in the face of what we know about Paradox Space, which is really all about lack of choice - or at least, lack of meaningful choice.
You can choose 'the type of hero you become', but you can't opt out of being a hero entirely. You can shape your universe however you want, but you never chose to burn your world and light the Forge.
AG: It would have 8een nice if someone was around to explain all this to me, and let me have some control over my own f8. AG: I had to do this a much less pleasant way. I'm sparing you that indignity. AG: 8esides, it's not like you're some loser who doesn't know how to make tough decisions.
And I really don't know what to make of this.
Something obviously happened between Vriska and Tavros - something we keep alluding to, which may or may not have involved her Quest Bed. She can't put herself to sleep, I guess - so did she want Tavros to knock her out? Drug her with Sopor Slime?
Maybe the incident happened after she fell asleep, and started ascending the God Tiers. Perhaps her sleeping body was vulnerable, and Tavros failed to protect it - or maybe he followed her inside the god tier dream, and something went horribly wrong.
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writella · 1 year ago
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I know others have probably said this before, but I just love the idea that Daryl would be the type to give you little things— small treasures— or do things for you— share a sweet moment, or of course, be his heroic self and help you (or really you help each other) out of harms way. I think it’s because one of his love languages obviously has to be acts of service. He may not be a big talker, but the way he fights for his loved ones is nothing sort of fearless, and as I heard Norman Reedus say in an interview, when it comes to Daryl as a person, “it’s about what you do, and what you say, and what you follow up with…” Similarly, I think this is how he would show his sincerity and care for a partner and since he may not be quick with the verbal initiation…
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⋆。˚ this care would first be shown in the things he gives you or does with you like… ⋆。˚
- The way you’d probably have variety of little knickknacks all around your room or ones that you’d keep in your pocket from things Daryl has found for you outside.
- Perhaps he would find cool looking or pretty rocks on the ground from a supply run or from hunting in the forest.
- He’d pick the interesting ones, the ones that glittered or shimmered in the sun, or if he was lucky enough to find it, maybe there’d be a colorful mineral.
- You’d have them specifically placed all around different corners in your room, the collection getting too big to keep in one place.
- Maybe he’d also start a charm collection for you.
- One time in the woods, the two of you tracked a deer, or really Daryl did. You stood behind, taking it as a hunting lesson for yourself.
- When he caught the deer, you both went closer to the body and in the corner of your eye you saw something that shined in the grass.
- Crouching down to pick it up you discovered a tiny charm of the sun. “Look!” You held it to the sky so the sun could shine on it further.
- “We just caught a deer, and you’re lookin at that?”
- “We just caught a deer for the first time in months and this was right by them… it’s good luck, literally a lucky charm.”
- You clipped it onto your necklace so you didn’t loose it.
- There was something about how the charm, and the actual sun, and your eyes shined perfectly together with it, so after that, he wanted to find one with a moon and another with stars to match.
- Then, he’d just start collecting whatever charm or even keychains that had a clasp or jump ring to add to your collection.
- You didn’t even think it was something you’d be interested in starting until he found those other two. It felt special because he gave it to you and it made you become obsessed so much so that you even joined him in the pursuit of finding charms or cool little keychains yourself.
- It became a fun little side quest for the both of you, a-not-actual-competition-competition to find the most interesting and unique ones when you happened to be on runs together.
- You’d both keep an eye out on the ground or whenever you searched vacant neighborhood houses: looking in the kids room for charms or on the key hooks by the front door for keychains that could possibly work.
- If either of you found one you didn’t have, you’d add it to your collection. Or if you found those bigger keychain character figurine ones, you’d both give those to Judith so she could play with it. Unbeknownst to her, you were helping her set up a collection as well.
- You would use them to hopefully make a charm bracelet in the future if you found the right chain for it or if you could find pieces to make one yourself; or you would just switch them off with your necklace chain depending on the day; or have them on your backpack or jeans or belt if you could.
- Now here’s a moment: after a lot of begging and wear down he would finally teach you how to ride his bike.
- You two were a team, and he knew he would probably need you to know how to ride eventually. Maybe it would come in handy when the group is attacked or they are the one doing the attacking. Who knows where he’ll be or where you’ll be in those moments? Or who the bike is closer to in that instance. This way, you have a possible escape plan with that extra skill.
- You’d probably even get a little too comfortable after you got better at riding and try to hop on first, taking the main spot.
- He doesn’t always let you, pushing you to the back so he can get in front, but sometimes… sometimes, he likes letting you take the wheel, because he knows you like it from time to time, and because he likes to see you smile; likes to see you proud of your capability.
- I think he’d also try to find a special knife for you. Something unique like Carol’s or that has a nice sleeve like Beth’s did. Something uniquely your own. Just like he has his bow.
- And with that, if you didn’t have one yet, I also think he might help you find the best weapon for you. Another thing that you could have as your own that you could become very skilled at fighting with.
- One time, he’d even gift you with the action of allowing you to talk a picture of him: Rick’s polaroid would have been in your backpack one day as you take a break from your travels outside of Alexandria. You and Daryl are sitting under a tree near an open grass plain. You would see how the wind made strands of his hair fly, making him look even more effortless in his uniquely strange natural beauty way. You’d take the camera out slowly, knowing he’d protest, and of course he did.
- “Please,” you would plead softly, “we don’t get to do things like this all the time. All we use the camera for is to document the houses, and the community work, or when Rick used it for the Savior war… it would be nice to have a nice picture for once.”
- He would look down impassively for a moment. You couldn’t tell it from his face— sometimes the quiet usually meant no— but he was actually deciding on doing it for you.
- Finally he says, “If I gotta take one, then it’s going to be of both of us.” He looks up at you through his hair, hiding the fact that he wanted to see how excited you were going to get. “Don’t need no one thinking I wanted a picture of just myself.”
- It makes you laugh. This is even better actually. A picture of you and him to have; a piece of you and him that will last forever.
- He would also gift you with one of his rare touches.
- Maybe it would start with allowing you to hold onto him while you’re on the back of his bike just a little closer. Or him pushing his neck back into you just the slightest bit more when you rest your head on his shoulder as he rides.
- Then maybe, the hugs would start increasing. Him not only giving you one after you’ve just escaped death yet again, but after he comes home one day from a run, maybe it happens just because now.
- And finally, this would all lead up to a kiss. Perhaps first on the side of your head, in your hair, as he comes home from a long journey one day, until the time finally comes where you both express all the things that have kept in your head about each other for so long, revealing your love.
- It would all commence to the kiss that you always wished would be placed right on your lips. It might just be the best gift of all. But not just because it’s a kiss, but because you finally get to love him in the way you’ve always desired. As your man, as your partner, as your Daryl.
So… this may or may not be a teaser for the next fic? >:) Stay tuned. ♡
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lendmyboyfriendahand · 11 months ago
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AU where Thingol, not Beren, dies fighting Carcharoth
The Hunting of the Wolf begins similar to canon. Carcharoth has eaten a Silmaril and is mad with pain, destroying the woods near Doriath.
As in canon, Carcharoth leaps from the bushes at Thingol.
Beren, fighting with his off hand, still bleeding from his right wrist, is just a moment too slow.
Beren swings his spear, and wounds Carcharoth, but not before the wolf has attacked the king.
There is a bite taken from Thingol's chest, and a savage scratch in his face. Even with the strength of an ancient elf, the light of Valinor, and the love of a Maia, it is too great a wound to survive.
Beren tries to staunch the blood, but it's too late.
Thingol says to Beren, "Love her, my son." The command is unnecessary, but Thingol dies thinking of his daughter and trusting her choices.
Melian screams, and every twig in Doriath shakes with her grief. She does not leave though, not while her daughter still lives and may need her.
Huan and Carcharoth fight, and die.
Mablung cuts open the wolf's belly and takes out the Silmaril. He places it on Thingol's breast.
No one in Doriath really wants to look at the Silmaril though. This is what tore apart the royal family, what their king died for, what brought the Wolf to ruin the forest.
There is talk of burying the Silmaril with Thingol's body, but Melian refuses to have it rest in her earth. The Silmaril is at once too cursed by Fate and too blessed by the Valar.
Melian can feel the Silmaril sing, and it would bring her in harmony with the first Music if she let it, until she was nothing but an instrument of Eru's first will. She would care only for the harmony of Arda and the good of all within it.
Melian is not willing to give up her passion and grief for her husband, or her love for her daughter, or her realm.
So the Silmaril is put to the side of the royal treasury for a few months, while a funeral and a wedding are planned.
Luthien is crowned Queen, with Beren king beside her. Melian is willing to stay and guard the realm as she has for centuries, but she is less able to hold her elven form without the one who inspired her to take it up, and in truth rarely cared for elven concerns.
Queen Luthien sends announcements of her coronation to the Falas and Nargothrond and Ethel Sirion.
(Maedhros begins recruiting for an attack on Angband. Murmurs in Doriath are that he is driven by shame, with the cowardice of his brothers compared to Luthien now known to all.)
Beren sends a letter to the people of Nargothrond, who have suffered as great a loss as the people of Doriath, with the loss of their king. He does not regret asking Finrod for help, but he grieves with them.
Privately, he tells Luthien that he wishes he had something of his own to offer, some token to remember Finrod, the bravest warrior in all elvendom.
Beren could give back the ring of Barahir, but he would just as soon keep it as his own memento, of promises kept and loyal friends.
Luthien has an idea.
It may be a terrible idea, but she is Queen, and all the treasures of Doriath are hers to with as she pleases. No one stops her.
In truth, no one argues that hard. Luthien and her husband are the ones who went on a dangerous quest, so the prize is theirs to do with as they will. Thingol might have standing to argue, but he's dead.
So Mablung, as the one who cut open the wolf's belly, is sent as emissary to King Orodreth, with a package he touches as little as possible.
Orodreth meets Mablung in a private room, after what a mess allowing an outsider to declare their business in the town square was last time.
(Not that Orodreth puts it that way, of course. But if Beren had mentioned the Ring and the Quest where none beside Finrod could hear, the Feanorians would not have learned until it was too late, and Finrod would have marched on Tol-in-Gaurhoth with a full army. He would have lived, Orodreth is sure of it.)
So there is none but Mablung to see how Orodreth's relaxes for a moment at the first moment of Treelight across his face, then nearly drops the Silmaril when he realizes what he is holding.
Orodreth cannot refuse the gift. It would be terribly insulting to Doriath, and all it would do would be move the looming bloodshed to his sister's home rather than his own.
Passing the Silmaril on would be an insult, even as tribute to King Fingon. And giving it to the sons of Feanor is as good as declaring himself open enemies with Doriath.
Orodreth asks Mablung to tell no one in the city what he has brought, to say only that Beren and Luthien grieve Finrod's death and sent a token. Mablung agrees easily enough, not being in the habit of gossip.
But much of Doriath knows, and though trade with the guarded realm is scarce, it is present. The secret may last for weeks or months, but in a year or two everyone will know that Nargothrond houses a Silmaril.
Including the sons of Feanor.
Orodreth locks the Silmaril in the most secure vault, to which only he has key, and thinks.
After a few days, he summons Celebrimbor before the court.
Orodreth declares Celebrimbor the Steward of the Vaults, responsible not for the daily spending of the kingdom, but for the safety and upkeep of the gems and elaborate ornaments that belong to the king.
Orodreth made the position up just now, but he gives it real responsibility. He doesn't wear the Nauglamir as his brother did, but neither does he want it stolen, and it needs the links oiled and the gems polished.
Celebrimbor is a jewelsmith, and a perfectly reasonable choice for the role.
And in the private audience afterwards, Orodreth emphasizes that Celebrimbor has authority over the vaults second only to his own. If Celebrimbor wishes a piece repaired, or a gem reset, he needs consult no other, even if it's a piece made by Feanor himself and brought from Valinor.
And speaking of things made by Feanor...
Celebrimbor is a bit insulted that he was given the role more due to the family he denounced than due to his skill. But he is not so insulted as to refuse the title, or the chance to closely examine so many masterpieces of jewelcraft.
Neither Celebrimbor or Orodreth are sure if this counts as hiding and hoarding a Silmaril, but it's now under the care of Feanor's kin so the Oath should be satisfied.
Right?
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