um this turned out way longer than I thought it would be sodfjosdf like the word count is 4187 osidjfdsf wtf. like literally you're so cool if u manage to read all of this:')

also, this is for @manwols csw2020 challenge! the first prompt is "you occupy my mind constantly." also, you can check out other author's take on this prompt on manwol's dashboard (she listed all the participants!).

anyways, I was inspired by a twitter post that compared jimin and sana to the little mermaid, so I decided to do a darker (?) take of it lol. idk if jimin and sana has ever been written before LMAO like what's their ship name?? jina?? samin?? (lol my sleep deprived brain is laughing rn cause samin sounds like salmon and it lives in the sea and this one shot takes place in the sea sodifjisf)

also, i typed this up at night and my brain is very sluggish rn, so even though I edited it, it might still be rlly choppy and weird osijfds but i'm too lazy to read it again and i really wanted to post it on time so sodijfs(even though i'm like two hours late)

also, i had so much fun laughing at all the names I came up with lmao. pls don't take them seriously. Oh wait one last thing I tried on the action scenes, pls don't ostracize me HAHAH

anyways, i hope you enjoy this one-shot!

btw, here are the pictures:

Even before he's the prince of Kingdom Castea, the captain of Senora, or the second son of Queen Ilena and King Jian, Jimin belongs to the sea.

Jimin grew up with the sea as his faithful partner.

At the age of five, he was sleeping to the lullaby of the waves, lying on the course thread of a cot meant for regular crew members - so unlike the soft cots for captains and chief mates. His mother, who had previously sailed the ocean as a ferocious pirate, always believed that although no one could fully control the ocean, they could always learn to adapt and manipulate the waves. "It shows no mercy, so I also will not be soft," she had explained, giving him some stale bread and preserved dry meat.

At the age of ten, he was learning how to cast a line, choose the correct bait, and reel in the catch without scaring it away. Trained himself to sit still for hours, watching the sun slowly travel across the sky, sometimes disappearing behind clouds and other times baring down on the ocean with an intensity that could roast fresh fish.

At the age of sixteen, he was mastering the language of the sea: the humidity in the atmosphere forcing seabirds to fly at a lower level, the sudden change in the density and omnisity of the clouds, and the halo that appeared either around the sun or the moon. More knowledge meant better preparations, which meant it would be one more score for him and one less for the ocean.

And at the age of twenty, when he was finally an adult, he bought his own ship, small but sufficient, named it Senora after the first sea he ever sailed on, and found his crew. Paid a fortune for his prized ship mascot: a beautiful lady with flippers instead of legs and fangs instead of teeth - a depiction of the famous legend of the sirens that roamed the dark depth of the sea. 

Then, he sailed.

Sana, her sweet, sweet name lingering on his lips, is the sea's guardian angel, but more specifically, Jimin's saviour.

The sea wasn't always nice. It couldn't be, if it wanted to eliminate anyone unworthy of its immense greatness, of anyone too weak to be daring. But one could beat the sea, see the patterns and defeat it in its own game.

And Jimin could recognize all the signs and more.

Like the high, wispy clouds currently running across the sky and the sudden drop of pressure in the atmosphere.

"Namjoon, a storm is coming," Jimin called from the tip of the ship. He squinted his eyes up at the sun. "And pretty soon, too."

The chief mate of Senora squinted up at the sky, too. "'Ring around the sun, rain before day is done.' Let's hope the rain doesn't fall until we finish eating dinner. Ol' Xiumin is cooking the best shellfish, and I want to enjoy his food without worrying about drowning."

Jimin gave him an amused glance. "To this day, I don't understand the appeal of shellfish."

"They're so soft-"

"Slimy."

"-and beautiful."

Eyebrows flying up, Jimin said, "If you crack an egg before it's fully grown, the animal will probably come out looking like a shellfish."

Namjoon rolled his eyes, although true to his carefree nature, he grinned. "You're offending every shellfish in this sea." He turned towards the deck and yelled, voice booming across the horizon, "Jungkook!"

A short moment later, one of the ships' crew members scrambled out of the trapdoor, a gust of wind blowing his hair back and emphasizing the wideness of his eyes. "Yes, sir!"

"Judging all the signs, we don't have time to replace the sails and masts with our heavier ones, so we're stowing everything. You know the correct order, right?"

Jungkook snapped to attention. "Yes, sir! Tackle the sails at the back first, then the lower course ones, and finally, the two left ones."

Namjoon grinned, flashing a crooked thumb. "Perfect. Now, Go!" When Jungkook sprinted off, he roared again, "Taehyung!"

Meanwhile, Jimin studied the sun shining on the mast's pole, narrowing his eyes at his deduction, feeling his heart sink. "Five more minutes," he absently said. "This is probably going to be a quick, but violent storm. Namjoon, hurry up."

Nodding, Namjoon bellowed, "Taehyung, get your ass over here or I'm throwing you over the ship."

The boatswain dashed over, looking frazzled and probably in the middle of a meal. "Yes, sir!"

"Bring over ropes. We're tying ourselves to the ship. And Taehyung, tie yourself next to the wheel, you're making sure the ship moves in an angle against the direction of the storm."

Taehyung nodded, walking away to complete his job.

"It's good we're not near land," Jimin absently commented, walking to the middle of the deck, Namjoon following a foot behind.

"We're definitely blessed," Namjoon agreed.

Before long, Taehyung returned with two handfuls of ropes, some frayed, but others good as new. The rest of the crew members, a total of five people, crowded around Jimin, waiting for their turns to be secured. After they were all in position - Jimin, Namjoon, and Taehyung near the wheel, while the rest of the crew spread out around the deck - Namjoon instructed Taehyung to start stirring.

Jimin glanced at the sky. "Probably another three minutes."

Yet, despite Jimin's best estimate, the sea was unpredictable, sometimes transitioning from calm to turbulent in a blink of an eye, and before long, a tall, dark cloud chased away the smaller ones, so close to the surface he swore he could feel it on his fingertips. The wind picked up, and the smell of rain dominated the air. The undulation of the waves were so choppy and tormentous that most of his crew members started to tremble in fear. They squirmed inside their ropes, exchanging whispers and prayers.

Thunder boomed across the sky, loud and instantly bringing a torrent of rain, as if someone stabbed a hole in a bucket full of water. Immediately, Jimin and the rest of his crew were soaked to the bone, rapidly blinking their eyes, but still not being able to see a single thing. A wave slammed into a boat's side, the loud crack of the contact momentarily filling the air, not only causing water to spill into the interior, but also threw everyone into whatever they were tied to. Jimin, in particular, fell back so hard that his head bounced off the wood. He laid crumpled against the ground for a few moments, confused and dazed.

"Captain!" Namjoon cried.

That snapped him out of his slump. Instead of replying to Namjoon, Jimin heaved himself up, scrambling to Taehyung, ignoring the way his ears were ringing from not only the blow, but also from the water seeping into his eardrums. "Harder," he shouted, coughing on the rainwater going into his mouth. "Let me help!"

Together, they struggled to turn the wheel to the left. The wind was blowing so hard that they could barely stay on their feet, feeling like a weightless piece of leaf. The sky continued to howl, stirring up a wild cyclone of water that threatened to engulf everybody in its path. And the ship groaned and creaked under the stress of the storm.

"This is a curse," Namjoon screamed, joining them in the wheel. "A goddamn curse."

Jimin whirled around, straining against his rope, to scan the rest of his crew, heart jumping to his throat when he saw some of them lying on the deck, unconscious, while others cried for help.

And then another streak of light, another loud crack, and everything became absolute chaos. An enormous wave, with a shape very similar to a monster with a gaping mouth and claws pummeled onto the deck. Jimin barely had time to warn Taehyung and Namjoon before he was swallowed by the monster, rope breaking with a quiet snap, flung over the ship so quickly that he gulped a mouthful of salty water when he submerged.

For a moment, he was immobile, slowly sinking, stunned at the unpleasant feeling of his throat and the heavy weight of his limbs.

Then, he was thrashing, panic flooding his bloodstream, trying to see through the murky water, reaching up for oxygen. Because his lungs were burning. Screaming for air, snapping at his brain to breathe, not knowing it was underwater.

He kicked and kicked, boots weighing a ton on his foot, not knowing if he was making progress or sinking.

But it was no use. Without oxygen, every body part was slowly dying, until he was motionless again. This was the end, but for some reason, he felt serene, accepting the inevitable, because at least, it was the ocean.

The beginning and the end was always going to be the sea.

Suddenly, he heard this melody. So clear and pure, cutting through the wreck of the ship, the distant thunder, and filling the space around him with a soft hum. And his body, which had been dying, suddenly felt revitalized. Swim. Swim. SWIM! He wanted to overcome any obstacles to get to the source. Because nothing was worth more than whatever he'll find in the end, not even a whole lifetime's supply of rubies. Maybe this was an angel saving him from suffering anymore. Blindly flailing around, for a moment, he forgot that his human body was reaching its limit.

"Pretty boy."

Or maybe this was a hallucination.

He was imagining the song, the words, the light pressure against his cheeks. But, nonetheless, he shuddered because the contact was so icy, a type of cold that freezed a person's deepest and warmest heart. Unnatural and permanent. Nobody should survive this.

"Open your eyes."

He couldn't. Physically couldn't. His body parts were dead from the lack of air. However, her voice was so pretty and enthralling, and he felt like a starving person seeing food for the first time, rapid and frothing for more. So, against his will, his eyelids opened.

To see long red hair framing a round face and skin so pale that it was almost transparent. She was glowing, framed by a light that should've been impossible in the dark depth of the ocean. Ethereal and fragile: that was how he would've described her.

And if he could, then he would've slapped himself. Because how could he not realize her? Sirens: beautiful face, but even more beautiful voice.

He opened his mouth to speak, forgetting that he was underwater, made worse by the fact that he couldn't even cough or sputter. She grinned, lips pressed together, and leaned forward, lightly brushing against her lips against his. Then, she whispered, "Breathe."

The first gasp of air was a lifetime's worth of inhales and exhales, a baby's first real gulp of air outside of their mother's stomach. His chest heaved up and down, not even properly getting enough air from the first pump before it wanted another lungful.

His voice was a raspy whisper when he asked, "What's your name?"

Jimin didn't know why that was his first question, especially since there were so many other pressing issues - but being able to call someone by their name made them seem more authentic.

That seemed to freeze the siren's exploration of his body, her hands stopping on his arms, her eyes - a murky grey, bordering on black - darting to him with a flicker of interest. "Name?" she hissed. The word in her mouth sounded raw and guttural, almost as if it was a newly coined.

Forcing his stiff neck to cooperate with him, he nodded.

"What is a name?"

"A word to address you by."

Slowly blinking, long eyelashes framing her eyes, brushing against her cheek, she leaned forward, until they separated by a breath and purred, "Pretty boy, what is your name?"

His reply was fast and sure. "Jimin."

"Ji-" A tongue swiped across her lips. "-min. What is my name?"

"Your parents didn't name you?"

She tilted her head. "Angels and demons do not meddle in mortal affairs." Gently stroking his cheek, she said, "I am asking you." And this time, her voice turned sinister, a low growl that reverberated through his body and activated his flight mode. "What is my name?"

With no time to think, an invisible hand forcing him to obey her command, he answered with the first word that came to mind: "Sana."

She repeated the word multiple times, each time changing the pronunciation, some sounding like soft promises of love, others sounding like a tortuous confession. Finally, she smiled, but it wasn't gentle, not even close. It was the look of gamblers right before they tricked and won all the money on the table, full of mischief and greed. Staking a claim. Boosting their abilities. And defending their rewards with their life.

"Jimin, your heart now belongs to me."

Then, her hand - no, more like claws - shot out, long and sharp, and the last thing Jimin remembered was an intense pain.

He's familiar with the sharpness of a seagull's caw, the roar of a wave's crash, and the shrill whistle of a wind's howl, not the high-pitched notes of a trumpet, the enthusiastic cheers of a crowd, or the whispers of gossiping servants.

Jimin woke up with the sound of the siren's call still ringing in his head.

"You're awake." Hoseok stood at the foot of the cot, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, and mouth turned down. The first prince. The rightful heir to the throne. A man of pride and rules. He really was on the opposite spectrum of Jimin's recklessness and restlessness. 

Panic crashed into him as he scanned his surroundings. He was in the castle's infirmary, a nurse brewing medicine next to him, his cutlass propped against the bed frame. "Where's my crew? Namjoon?"

"They were found on the shore, not without wounds, but alive."

Jimin sagged against his pillows in relief.

"However, that's not important. You made a very irresponsible choice. Out of any other days you could've gone out, you choose today."

Gingerly, Jimin touched the bandages wrapped around his head and torso. He was surprisingly well off, considering the fact that he had just been tossed and whipped around in the ocean like a rag doll. But he was saved by a siren. A bolt of thrill, completely covering the lingering fear, shot through his body, quick and so intense that for a second, he was left gasping for breath.

"What would our kingdom say to Princess Park if you died? What if your body was never found? What-" Hoseok stopped and narrowed his eyes. "You're not listening."

Yes, Jimin wasn't listening, but that was because he had heard this lecture a million times already. Sometimes, he swore the same words rang and rang in his head, to the point that he needed to go out to the sea to drown out their strict lectures. 

Hoseok sighed. "You're planning to go back soon."

"Of course."

"What if I stop you?"

Jimin scowled, shooting up, ignoring the slight twinge of pain in his ribs, and shoving his feet into his boots. "I want you to try."

Hoseok's whole body shifted into defense mode, a hand darting to the sword hanging on his hips, one foot sliding farther out than the other, shoulder twisting a bit to the left for a makeshift shield. "Do you really think I won't try?"

Once upon a time, they had been the best of brothers, clashing wooden swords during their lessons, laughing at Duke Kil's horrible attempts at pronouncing the word "Castea", and sneaking out of the castle to explore all the dark caves along the hidden shores of the ocean. But that was a long time ago, so long that Jimin couldn't be sure that their past wasn't just a reflection of what he wanted. Now, they were separated by the numerous years, their constantly evolving ideals, and the difference in their duties: the only connection left between them being the blood flowing through their veins.

"Only over my dead body," Jimin growled.

For a second, he really thought Hoseok was going to attack, but he fell back and turned around, saying, "I won't stop you, but Father and Mother will."

And like he was chanting a summoning spell, the door opened, revealing the King - chin held high, forehead decorated with permanent wrinkles, and mouth flattened into a grim line - and the Queen - a light smile lighting up her face and brown eyes that seemed to always heal and rejuvenate.

Jimin and Hoseok bowed, a fist against their hearts, greeting at the same time, "His Majesty, the King. Her Majesty, the Queen."

Father stiffly nodded, while Mother softly tsked, beckoning them to stand straight. "What did I tell you about these formalities?"

Hoseok straightened, but kept his hand up. "In private, we should greet you as Mother."

She smiled. "Then, let's do that from now on, shall we?" When Hoseok nodded (although his eyes respectfully stayed on the ground), she turned to Jimin and held out her arms, saying, "Come here, my dear boy. Let me inspect those wounds."

Grinning, Jimin walked to her embrace, soaking in everlasting warmth and gentle touches. It was crazy, really, how about billions of people existed in this world, but she was the only person he felt comfortable with. Almost like sailing on top of a serene ocean: soft waves and glittering blue water.

"I don't think I can call someone who was defeated by the ocean as my son," she teased, lips curling into a devious grin, a remnant of her previous life. "Who saved you?"

He was about to remind her just where he got his genes, hesitating about the siren (because she was his secret and only his) when the King interrupted, "Ilena."

Stepping back and clasping her hands together in front of her waist, she raised a perfect eyebrow. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"Ilena, we've discussed this before." The King turned to Jimin then, accessing his black boots and cutlass with disapproval and disdain. They've always had a complicated relationship. Jimin didn't hate his father, mostly because he understood that the King was performing his proper duties, being the best leader a kingdom could ask for. It was just that Jimin needed freedom, while the King strived to limit it, preferring him to be safe and sheltered in the castle. And that was where all their clashes originated from. "Jimin. You have almost put this whole kingdom in jeopardy."

"Accident," he muttered.

"Accident? What about the princess?"

He shrugged. "I didn't want to almost die, just like how I didn't want to be roped into that marriage."

The King was going to pop an eardrum from the way his neck and face were turning red, swelling. "It's your duty!"

"I've said this so many times before," Jimin snapped. "I don't care about this royal status."

"God doesn't care about your wishes, only that you were born a prince and will always belong to the citizens of this kingdom."

"The kingdom doesn't-"

The King held up his hand. "End of discussion." He turned to the royal guards flanking him, tilting his head towards Jimin. "Lock him up in his room. Unless you have my permission, nobody-" He glared at the Queen, who returned his stern gaze with her own innocent one. "-will release him, or else they'll face severe punishment."

That sweet song, with its tempting melody, alluring beat, is the only thing occupying his mind. Skin burning for her cool touch, lips tingling for another soft brush, and chest hollow with loss. It's a beautiful sickness, consuming him, rendering him incapable of rational thoughts.

Jimin was close to exploding from three weeks of strict surveillance.

He wasn't designed for a tiny space with nothing to do but pace and look out the window. His body yearned for the salty air, for the rocky feeling of the ship, for his crewmates. But most of all, for Sana. It felt like a betrayal to her, to the beautiful siren who saved him, who was probably waiting for him to seek her out. Every day that he spent without her was a strike against his body's health; he needed her to survive.

So, he wasn't going to stay still any longer. His cloak was wrapped tightly around his body, his cutlass was secured on his hip, and one hand was gripping a dagger. He was seriously prepared to storm out, knock the guards unconscious before they could call for help, and escape. Was the plan risky? Yes. But did he have anything other choice? No.

However, before he could do anything, there were two sharp thunks on the other side, before the lock clicked and the door flew open to reveal Mother, nervously glancing around.

"Mother?!"

"Go," she whispered.

His eyebrows slammed down. "What?"

"Go!" she urged, grabbing his arm and pulling him outside the room. "Before they find out."

He stumbled forward, turning around with wide eyes. "What? Why are you doing this, Mother? You know I will never come back again."

"Because I understand. The sea calls to you and once it does, you will never escape its clutches ever again."

His whole body was itching to leave, freedom at last, but there was one more thing bothering him. "But the sea also called to you."

Mother's eyes were warm and nostalgic, hand reaching up to cup his cheeks. "And I'm still regretting my decision to this day. You can still leave, so go!"

His legs involuntarily propelled him forward. Enveloping her in a hug, Jimin whispered, "Thank you for everything." And then, releasing her, not failing to notice her glossy eyes, he ran harder than ever, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. Into a secret tunnel usually used to keep the royal family safe when there were unexpected visitors. Out of the castle. Through the garden, ducking behind bushes of flowers every now and then to avoid guards. And then finally over the castle walls.

A day later, he was sitting in the tavern, finally free, but at the same time, feeling trapped.

One, wanted posters have been put up everywhere, labelling him as a traitor to the crown. An outcast. A reward of 1000 rubies would be given to anyone who finds and brings him back to the castle. He had nowhere to go, no way to start a new life.

Two, there was no feasible way to find Sana. Besides the obvious fact that he couldn't breathe underwater, the sea was so huge, it would take years for him to find her. And that knowledge dragged his spirits down, until he was only a fraction of the man he used to be.

On the third day, blending into the crowd of the same tavern, he was sipping on alcohol when a lady approached him.

"I'm not interested," he said, not even sparing her a glance.

Her voice sounded amused when she asked, "Really?"

"Yes. I already belong to someone."

There was a small moment of silence. Then, she leaned forward and whispered, "A siren got to you first, huh?"

The cup he was holding clattered onto the table, the liquid spilling onto his lap (although he doesn't notice), as he whipped around to finally face her. (Small and petite with wild, curly brown hair that seemed to occupy more space than her.)

"Bullseye." She smiled, crossing her arms. "They're a dangerous breed."

He scowled, feeling a jolt of unexplained indignation. "They're beautiful."

Poking him in the area where his heart used to sit, she smirked. "And they also got your heart. Bummer for you, but great for me."

Frowning, he watched her take out a small vial. Got your heart? What did she mean by that? And why was his mind suddenly so cloudy, like he was drunk, unable to think? But before he could dwell on the topic any longer, she said, "Let's make a trade. I'll give you a tail and the ability to breathe underwater, but you have to give me your voice."

(To any other human, this would've sounded absurd, obviously a trick played by people bored with their lives.)

Jimin eagerly nodded, a smile blooming on his face and spirits rising, too. This was it. The solution to his problem. But he did have one question swimming in the depths of his thoughts; he struggled to pull the individual words out to form a coherent sentence, feeling like he was stuck in quicksand. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because I'm a gambler."

The ice cold water is a refreshing touch, a lover's caress, against his burning skin. There's a distant voice that sounded very familiar to her (or maybe his mind was playing tricks, delusionally painting the picture he wanted to hear.) Drawn to the sound like a moth is drawn to light, he submerges himself into the ocean.

He breathes, a trail of fire left behind, a pain so intense he almost doubles over.

But that's fine.

Because he had always belonged to the sea, and now, Sana.