#a beacon of cool ; aesthetic

[kingofbodyrolls]

Deep Dive (m) | knj

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 ✨

[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 🤭

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.

“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?

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.

“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.

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.

→ 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 💜

[deltamb3r]

Your CotL OCs (Narilamb children I guess?) are so cute! I wish I could see them more.

And, yeah! I think I've got an idea! Let them meet their uncles and aunt!

A little late but here you go! I've completely redesigned my NariLamb children! owo (Clothes may change along the way tho)

And while I cannot yet show any children/bishop interaction, lemme tell each one has their bond with them :3

We have:

Mia, the eldest child

She's the little princess of the cult, very well behaved child and a beacon of light for the lives of those around her. She takes both good and bad traits from both her parents. Sometimes she acts a bit spoiled when not in a good mood, but generally she's good at heart. She bonded with Shamura the most.

Ovinnik, the middle child

Ovi for short, he takes his looks mostly from his dad, even though he's a bit of a scaredy cat. He doesn't have lots of self esteem, little by little he's improving his skills both in cult managing and fighting. He tries to act cool sometimes to hide his insecurities, but the cat gets out of the bag very quickly. He wants to become as strong as Baal and Aym someday. He bonded with Kallamar, obviously.

Sole and Luna, the Lamb twins and youngest children

Agents of chaos in the cultgrounds, always trying to elaborate pranks and making their parent's life much difficult. Both their names and Aesthetic is dedicated to Baal and Aym, which they love to play with. Sole looks like a really young Lamb, while Luna takes more from Narinder. They bonded with Leshy and Heket the most, as they enable their prankster behavior a lot, much to their parent's exhaustion.

[tswaney17]

@azrielappreciationweek | Day 1: Cool Quiet

For cool quiet, I wanted to explore the imagery surrounding Azriel. He’s often symbolized as Hades, and he and Elain have been given the Hades/Persephone aesthetic by Sarah. Azriel born of darkness is searching for his light and I just know Elain will be that shining beacon of hope for him. 🦇💙

[junk-story]

Interview Archive 2, 5.1994 - Ongaku to Hito Special Edition

This interview is on pages 62-67 of the magazine. Footnotes can be found at the bottom of the text.

ISSAY – the aesthetic man who “continues to spin round and round in a dead end with nothing to do”, from DER ZIBET, who debuted in ‘85 as “the founders of Japan’s aesthetic-style rock revival”. Sakurai Atsushi – the aesthetic man of “complete self-deprecation, going mad in any case”, from BUCK-TICK, who debuted in ‘87 as “the first aesthetic-style rock band dominating Japan nationwide”. This will be the first interview between these two. Whether you call it visual kei, makeup kei, aesthetic kei, or Japanese-style decadence kei, this movement became dominant in Japan’s current rock scene before we knew it. Although it’s been analyzed from various perspectives, in a nutshell, I wonder if at the center of this movement is “an exceptionally large desire to escape a difficult reality”. Not liking to look at reality, they seek out a place of repose that’s “somewhere that isn’t here”, and they hide thoroughly within themselves. And while Japan is a peaceful country and they were born during this moratorium [on violence], they are “hippies”. Those who have become the beacons of this are, without a doubt, Der Zibet and BUCK-TICK. With that, a meeting of two giants who rely on each other – but it really suits these two.

Ichikawa: I’ve had pending questions for when this interview happened for a long time, since I was working at a certain other music magazine, but now that we can finally do it, somehow I’m still feeling shy.

ISSAY: Hahahahaha.

Ichikawa: First, I’ll start with the perfunctory questions.

ISSAY: The story of BUCK-TICK and DER ZIBET’s formation?

Sakurai: Hahahahaha.

Ichikawa: Hahahaha. I’m tired of hearing that sort of talk already.

ISSAY: Alright then, how we first found music? (laughs)

Ichikawa: (Ignoring him1) Sakurai, around what point did you learn of DER ZIBET?

Sakurai: Around when I was 19 or 20, wasn’t it? I’d come to Tokyo from Gunma, and during the time I was living together with a friend, I borrowed a tape from someone and listened to it.

Ichikawa: Was your first “Violetter Ball (Murasaki no Butoukai)”?

Sakurai: Yeah. I thought it seemed good and listened to it. And then, by chance, I was passing by Eggman in Shibuya...and it was written there, “DER ZIBET LIVE!”. I thought, “I wonder what sort of feel it’ll have, this is my chance” and bought my ticket for that day. That was the first place I watched them…

Ichikawa: Der Zibet are decadence at its finest, aren’t they.

ISSAY: Yeah. We’ve been told by those around us to tone it down. (laughs)

Sakurai: By the way, ISSAY-san, you were singing with a mask on.

ISSAY: Really? ...That’s not great! (laughs)

Ichikawa: (laughs) The first time you saw them it was that sort of live?

ISSAY: ...I think it wasn’t that sort of pantomime pantomiming, at the time at least.

Ichikawa: What hairstyle did he have?

Sakurai: The same as now, I think. Yeah, like that.

ISSAY: Was it black? I think maybe it was red. Red or green, one or the other.

Ichikawa: (laughs) This guy, he was giddy2, wasn’t he?

Sakurai: No...well, I thought he was cool…

ISSAY: I’m glad! (laughs)

Ichikawa: Hahaha. Did you listen to Der Zibet after that too?

Sakurai: I think after that was around the time when I had first started with BUCK-TICK, not yet as the vocalist, but as the drummer.

ISSAY: Oh?! Atsushi, you were the drummer at first?

Sakurai: Yeah.

ISSAY: I had no idea. (laughs)

Sakurai: After that, while we were touring around during our indies era, at Nagoya’s ELL, DER ZIBET’s video was playing. I thought again that they were cool. Then, when we came back from touring, among our few (laughs) fans, there was a kid who loved DER ZIBET, and they gave me that video. I watched it again and again in my room like I was devouring it.

ISSAY: You watched it again and again! (laughs)

Ichikawa: What parts of Der Zibet did you like? Don’t worry; just be honest.

Sakurai: Hmmm, well I’ve performed vocals as well, so that’s where my eyes go, don’t they. ISSAY-san was cool.

ISSAY: (laughs) See~?

Sakurai: It wasn’t just singing...the added value of his performance on the stage was really impressive.

ISSAY: We were trying various things at that time. Like where I’d sit on top of a stepladder and sing, or I’d have an enormous clock.

Ichikawa: Wahahaha. You’d go onto the stage holding candles.

ISSAY: Not candles! A lantern. All four of us wore black coats and appeared on stage holding lanterns.

Ichikawa: You did as much as you could underground, didn’t you.

ISSAY: When I think of it now, I wonder if was Japanese gothic. (laughs)

Sakurai: Hahahahaha.

Ichikawa: Is this guy embarrassed, I wonder?

ISSAY: No no. (laughs) Well, performing something itself isn’t really embarrassing. Just, when it’s said right to your face...that is embarrassing, a bit. (laughs) There’s a kind of embarrassment when someone says, “A long time ago, we all went to this picnic, right?” and they bring out a picture of you from your high school days, right? It’s embarrassing.

Ichikawa: So Sakurai, you felt there were some commonalities with Der Zibet, right?

Sakurai: …...Hmmm…...how can I say this – I felt like they were a young boy’s words. There’s a boy who has his own world and there is a girl who yearns for him in it, like that? Yeah, it may have a girlish perspective to it. Or it could be like a so-called father complex.

Ichikawa: Sakurai, you’ve had a complex about your lack of personal worldview as an artist, on that note.

Sakurai: Because I still can’t express myself in words, I haven’t gotten to that point yet. The person named ISSAY-san who has already achieved it is right before my eyes…

Ichikawa: Then, the heart of a young girl longs for him, and he also ends up a father figure – a person having difficulties, and you are too. (laughs)

Sakurai: (laughs) I envy him, that’s the kind of feeling I have.

Ichikawa: The first time ISSAY saw BUCK-TICK was in London in ‘88, wasn’t it. This was while Der Zibet was recording “GARDEN” and BUCK-TICK “TABOO” respectively, and you performed in a foreign country.

ISSAY: That was my first time seeing them live. However, the first time I met them was at the public TV recording of Meguro’s Rokumeikan.3

Ichikawa: That was the time that SION, Der Zibet and BUCK-TICK all were recording on the same day. When you went to the dressing room, they were there and you became acquainted?

Sakurai: (embarrassed laugh) Yes.

Ichikawa: Was that around the time BUCK-TICK debuted?

Sakurai: Yes, right around the time we debuted.

Ichikawa: When you went to the dressing room, there were these boys with their hair straight up.

ISSAY: That’s right. But they were such good kids. (laughs) Atsushi and Imai were adult-like, but the two on rhythm (Anii and Yuuta) really talked to me a lot. It was just a “We’re BUCK-TICK!”, “Oh, hello” sort of exchange, but. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Sakurai didn’t speak?

ISSAY: He said, “I’ve been to see one of your concerts once.”

Sakurai: (embarrassed laugh) Is that so?

Ichikawa: The Sakurai of that time was a guy that consistently didn’t talk. Right before their debut, when I was doing my first interview with BUCK-TICK, Sakurai and Hoshino, they were a fleet of silence, the two of them, you know? Despite their gaudy hair standing straight up. (laughs)

Sakurai: (laughs) Waah, we were useless guys.

Ichikawa: Well, you were eyewitness to BUCK-TICK’s live in London.

ISSAY: There was a message from Atsushi in my voicemail. “I heard you’re going to London to record around the same time as us, so if you can meet up, let’s meet”, something like that.

Ichikawa: Sakurai, what are you embarrassed about?

Sakurai: Nothing, nothing. (laughs)

Ichikawa: You’re blushing like a schoolgirl, you know. (laughs)

Sakurai: ……...(laughs)

ISSAY: Hahahahahahaha. So, I heard that BUCK-TICK was going to perform live there, so I went to watch them with the other members [of DZ].

Ichikawa: I think I can ask this now, but, performing live in London was tough, wasn’t it?

Sakurai: Yes, it was tough. But, well, it was just a rush of performing and coming back home. I didn’t think I could perform sober, so I don’t remember it, but. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Just drinking up like crazy before the show. (laughs)

Sakurai: Yeah.

Ichikawa: Sounds desperate. (laughs) Were Der Zibet your only Japanese audience members?

Sakurai: It looked like there were a number of exchange students as well.

Ichikawa: Wasn’t it embarrassing with Japanese people being there?

Sakurai: And they were in the front row. (laughs)

ISSAY: Right. I was thinking that they may have come all the way from Japan to see them. I thought, “Wow, BUCK-TICK is awesome.” (laughs)

Ichikawa: Bottom line, what were your impressions from the live?

ISSAY: I thought they were doing their best. (laughs) They had a lot of spirit. I think it was the ending, that was amazing. Like BOOM, BOOM.4 It was like, “ooh, they’re really doing it.” (laughs)

Sakurai: Hey, that’s something you’d say about a sports player. (laughs)

ISSAY: It felt like you guys were like, “Listen to this, you bastards!”

Sakurai: We might have seemed like nasty guys. (laughs)

ISSAY: No, not at all, there wasn’t a feeling of nastiness to it; you were greeting them with smiles and properly did the MC in English.

Ichikawa: MC!!!

ISSAY: In the middle, speaking English got troublesome so he ended up speaking Japanese, but. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Woooooow. (laughs) This guy who can’t even speak for the MC in Japan, there’s no way he could do it over there, right?

ISSAY: Hahahahahahaha.

Sakurai: Right. It was impossible.

Ichikawa: But this is a nostalgic story.

ISSAY: Yeah, nostalgic. But I remember stuff from that time.

Sakurai: Me too. And I was glad you came to our dressing room.

Ichikawa: Thinking about it, both BUCK-TICK and Der Zibet recorded internationally as a one-time thing.

ISSAY: For us, it’s because when we go there, we end up making dark stuff. Like, the dark and extremely heavy “GARDEN” that was so heavily criticized by the people invested in it, when we listened to it in London it seemed normal. You don’t think it’s dark at all.

Sakurai: That’s right. Ichikawa-san also completely disliked our “TABOO”, so. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Well, when you go to London, it suddenly ends up feeling quite frightening, doesn’t it? And artists need to have a strong sense of themselves.

ISSAY: I ended up having the constitution for it, undoubtedly. I had fun, being in London. Wasn’t that the case for you?

Sakurai: Certainly mentally speaking, it was very comfortable.

Ichikawa: But Sakurai, you’ve been on vacation to Hawaii before.5 (laughs)

Sakurai: That place is totally harder. (laughs) There’s this obsession of like, if you don’t go outside you’re missing out...(laughs)

ISSAY: Aah, I get that! (laughs) Well, did you end up going outside?

Sakurai: I did end up going out.

ISSAY: Did you swim in the ocean?

Sakurai: I did. (laughs)

ISSAY: Isn’t that nice~, that you swam in the ocean~? (laughs)

Sakurai: Hahahaha.

ISSAY: Let’s go next time, it’ll be fun. Let’s go, let’s go. (laughs) Last summer, for the first time in 15 years, I also went to the ocean, sooo (laughs)

Sakurai: What sort of fun? (laughs)

Ichikawa: Decadent people going for a swim in the ocean. (laughs)

ISSAY: After that, we’ve met in passing a number of times. Definitely, I think it was when we were coming back from touring in Nagoya or somewhere, but we were refueling our gas in the parking area off the highway and (laughs) these guys with long hair came in. I was thinking, “Huh? I’ve seen these guys before”, and there was the bassist. He went, “It’s BUCK-TICK!” (laughs) And from the back, making an extremely embarrassed looking face about it, came Atsushi. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Wahahahaha.

ISSAY: I was like, “Oh, it’s Atsushi!” (laughs) Besides that, we also met up in front of Nakano Sun Plaza when Peter Murphy had a concert there.

Sakurai: I remember that well.

Ichikawa: Because events like that are few and far between, right. You guys live withered lifestyles like retired old men. (laughs)

ISSAY: Definitely. (laughs) Events that move me are few and far between. But look, I was moved at first when I met up with Atsushi, I was like, “It’s Atsushi~!”

Sakurai: Hahahahahahahaha.

ISSAY: Atsushi, you’re a homebody too, right?

Sakurai: Going by car from a metropolitan area to a suburb is okay, but getting to the point of leaving my room is difficult.

Ichikawa: This guy would probably be happy if you came over to his room to hang out. (laughs) You would just be idling away the time, though.

Sakurai: Well, there are no enemies from the outside there. (laughs)

ISSAY: You get tired of it right, the stuff that comes with going out.

Sakurai: Yeah, it’s tiring. I wonder why that is.

ISSAY: Because people other than you are there. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Wahahahahahaha.

Sakurai: Hahahaha. 100%. (laughs)

ISSAY: Thank you very much.6 (laughs)

Sakurai: For me, even though I’m at this age, I still happen to get embarrassed and scared about it. I want to go to Toukyuu Hands7, but I can’t, things like that. (laughs)

ISSAY: I can’t go either, you know. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Sakurai, what do you want to go to Hands for?

Sakurai: My light bulbs burnt out, so to go buy more. Places like supermarkets don’t sell them, they’re a special kind. In the end, I had someone else buy them and bring them to me. (laughs)

ISSAY: Right? I do that too.

Ichikawa: That’s no good, you guys. (laughs)

ISSAY: For me, there was a time where I wanted a takoyaki set, so I sent the manager to buy it for me.

Sakurai: Ah, I bought that too. The one from Toukyuu Hands, right? (laughs)

ISSAY: Ah, really? Next time, let’s have a takoyaki party, just the two of us. (laughs)

Sakurai: We’ll do it, we’ll do it. (laughs)

ISSAY: A dark, decadent takoyaki party. (laughs)

Ichikawa: While listening to the Sisters of Mercy.

Sakurai: Hahahahahahaha.

Ichikawa: I’m coming too.

ISSAY: Please do. (laughs)

Ichikawa: So, in “Masquerade”, the song you costar on in Der Zibet’s “Shishunki II”, it became a “decadent duet between teacher and student”.

ISSAY: Weren’t you the one who planned that? (laughs) But, that really was extremely fun. (laughs) And the finished product is quite interesting.

Ichikawa: Like the way the qualities of your voices are so similar.

ISSAY: Right? (laughs) Like, there are many parts where you can’t tell if I’m singing or if Atsushi is singing, even for me.

Sakurai: That’s been said a lot.

ISSAY: I was surprised by that. So, if you listen to how Atsushi normally sings, it’s completely different from me, right? But, when we happen to be doing a part in the same artistic style...you know?

Ichikawa: By the way, ISSAY, what do you actually think about the music BUCK-TICK is performing?

ISSAY: I haven’t listened to all of it completely, so I don’t know for sure, but I think it’s interesting. It’s weird, isn’t it? There aren’t guys performing that kind of music on major labels, are there? So I’m really happy about that, and that it’s so well received. I think that’s a really good thing. From the time they came out, I’ve thought, “This went major. That’s great!” (laughs) Even though the things they perform are quite often actually grotesque.8

Ichikawa: I think the people at Victor who gave them the OK are great too. Here are these “amateurs” with incomprehensible lyrics who didn’t know the fundamentals of their instruments, so you get a lot of weird sounds. At an average record label, they would have ended up getting the boot.

ISSAY: Normally, most likely.

Sakurai: I think so too. (laughs)

Ichikawa: If I’m speaking frankly, and I’m still thinking this, but I can’t help wondering why they were sold on BUCK-TICK.

Sakurai: Fufufufu.

ISSAY: Me, I somehow understand. I suppose the melody was easy to follow and that had a lot to do with it. I don’t think it’s necessary at all to persist in that, but as an element of their work that’s easy to accept, I wonder if it wasn’t a big part of it. Although their lyrics seemed muddied, and although their hair was done like it was. I think their melodies were amazingly alive. I wonder if they really felt that.

Ichikawa: Well, if Der Zibet had also debuted four years or so later, maybe they would have sold big.

ISSAY: Hahahaha. I wonder. (laughs)

Ichikawa: But you know, on the point of how what we call aesthetic kei or visual kei’s “weird sounds” movement gained a following in Japan, I think BUCK-TICK’s contribution is huge. Especially when you think about how aesthetic kei is currently flourishing.

ISSAY: I think so. You’re great, Atsushi!

Sakurai: (laughs) Not at all, the me of today wouldn’t be here without ISSAY-san.

Ichikawa: You guys are so creepy. But lately, the number of lovable “aesthetic fools” are getting increasingly scarce, aren’t they?

Sakurai: Because fashion comes first.

Ichikawa: Stylers9 are born on after another, but it’s just the shape of one. In the amateurs, in indies, and on major labels too.

ISSAY: Hahahahahaha. Styler (laughs)

Sakurai: (laughs) What is that exactly, a styler?

Ichikawa: Hm? Someone who personifies STYLE10.

Sakurai: Hahahaha. What a great way to say it.

Ichikawa: In the middle of the ‘80s, there was an underground aesthetic music scene centered in Shinjuku, and it was nothing but fine fools, wasn’t it?

ISSAY: It was, it was. Jean Genet11 was doing well.

Ichikawa: (laughs) There were no bands that I think a major label would be willing to spend production and advertising costs on thinking like, “This will sell!”

ISSAY: That’s right. But it’s because they had power.

Ichikawa: That underground power, it comes from a scene that has a sad history where, regardless of how good they were, their values were different from the above ground, and for this reason alone they were not recognized, right?

ISSAY: But isn’t that how it ends up in the world?

Ichikawa: Der Zibet is also still the odd one out among that group – because even while ISSAY’s “aesthetic of spinning circles in a dead end” stands out, the sounds have also been properly done.

ISSAY: It was still weird though. (laughs) However, we really were criticized for it. At the time we first put music out, it was written about as “kayou rock”.12 If you had slightly melodious lyrics, you’d quickly be branded with that.

Sakurai: We were as well. (laughs)

Ichikawa: But now there are no fools. And that’s regrettable. Because as I see it, rock is pulled along by fools. It improves the expression and the like.

ISSAY: Well, but…

Ichikawa: Guys like us need to keep going, is what I’m saying.

ISSAY: That’s what you meant. (laughs)

Sakurai: Hahahahahaha.

Ichikawa: I’m asking this right at the end, but ISSAY’s solo album production project is actually now going on in secret, but of course, Sakurai Atsushi, I think you must be obligated to participate in it in any case, right?

ISSAY: Hahahahaha. Will you do it?

Sakurai: I’ll do it!

1 This is literally noted in the text, lol. 2 This could also be “restless” or “flippant”, but those fit less well to me. 3 A live house in Tokyo. The internet tells me this show was on January 17th, 1988. 4 Onomatopoeia translation hard. 5 I felt this transition was weird in English, but it’s clear in Japanese at least that he’s implying London shouldn’t have been comfortable compared to Hawaii. 6 This is basically the first time in the whole interview that ISSAY speaks formally, and it’s for exaggerated effect. Very opposite of Sakurai, who has been 100% formal. 7 Now just “Hands” – a home center store for housing and lifestyle products. 8 “Egui” means a lot of things, but it’s apt for B-T’s music: dark topics on emotional things, taboo social subjects. 9 I spent like 5 minutes trying to figure this out before reading on. He made this word up. Sakurai and Issay didn't know what he meant either. Thanks for keeping me on my toes, Ichikawa. 10 “Style” was written in English here. 11 This appears to be a reference to this playwright’s style of work more than he himself. 12 Better Japanese music historians may know more than me, but this seems like the pre-Band Boom name for this kind of music. THE ALFEE, for example, is listed as one of the founding groups of this sound on JP Wikipedia.

[pilot-boi]

Thinking about how Ruby is a Pokemon girl (and Weiss and Jaune), while Yang is a Yu-Gi-Oh/Magic girl (and Neptune)

And take all these with a grain of salt, because I don’t play any of these games

Ruby’s decks all have themes for the specific game she wants to play, but also she just flat out refuses to not use her favourite Pokemon in every game, regardless of if it’s a good match or not. She knows every Pokemon

Weiss gets into Pokemon at Beacon because of Ruby, and is immediately obsessed. Weiss of course immediately sinks millions of lien into getting a whole collection. She keeps them in one of those laminated folders with the individual slots

Jaune has a collection of foil cards that he maintains in perfect condition, but the others in his deck have scuffed edges and bent corners from shoving them in his backpack

Yang, meanwhile, of COURSE plays Yu-Gi-Oh. Just look at her with Remnant:The Board Game, that’s a girl who plays card games with convoluted rules. She probably also plays Magic, let’s be real

Everyone thinks Yang was a jock growing up, sike suckers, she's a huge ass nerd. She’s like my friend, who seems like he was one of the Cool Kids during school, but he actually spent the whole time playing DND. Yang has the jock aesthetic, but not the jock mentality

Slight tangent, but I like thinking about the gang hanging out with people they don’t in canon, because god dammit all of these kids are friends

For instance, Yang definitely plays Magic with Neptune. I also like Neptune being able to drop his cool guy persona with Yang, because he sees that she ALSO has this jokester persona. They’re just filling the roles they think people want them to. But when hanging out together they can just be the geeks they really are

Again, these are all based on vibes. I have never played any of these games lol

[razorblade180]

So you said that if you had theoretically infinite cash, you'd make a full-scales RWBY game. On that note, if you had to pick an already-existing game (standalone or franchise) to have a collab with RWBY, which would it be, why, and how would it work? I've had brainworms on the topic and they've been craving roommates and/or food.

I think this is cheating but a some sort of Dynasty Warrior collab would be cool specially for that gameplay style. Somehow our heroes end up in the time period where the Great War was happening in Remnant; there’s your excuse for new maps and fighting more enemy types than grimm. Have a special mission that’s the fall of Beacon.

This is also cheating but a collab with almost any Tales Of game. I’m biased to Xillia but I’d listen options. Once again, the franchise’s battle system really leans into multiple characters fighting together and using team attacks. Also many of those games have an endgame location that always ends being some realm in between realities where they add characters from their other games, so getting a collab to show up is pretty easy. There are weirder things in that series than walking through a portal that leads to Remnant.

I’m really thinking in terms of gameplay aesthetic and genre. This one kinda doesn’t make sense but Nier x RWBY would be fulfilling to me in the sense that I would very much like to be RWBY characters in a giant open world where I could run, dash, use my abilities, and snappy fighting. Just thinking about going through the amusement park in Automata as Blake or Weiss feels nice to me.

In the same vein, my brain is going “the cast in a BotW world would be wonderful, but I don’t want BotW gameplay” which annoyingly leads me to think “so Genshin Impact” and the last thing I want is farming for them in a gacha. If ZZZ wasn’t a gacha then I wouldn’t hesitate about the idea of putting RWBY in a game with flashy fast paced combat. Honestly as I’m typing this I’ve come to an interesting thought. If you mixed the some of the structure and mechanics of Zenless with Scarlet Nexus, you’d probably end up with pretty good foundation for a RWBY.

[shikantazaart]

From Retro Roots to Modern Marvels: The Rebirth of the Pirate Menu Aesthetic

Ahoy, Nostalgia!

If you were a computer geek in the 80s or 90s, you probably remember the thrill of booting up a freshly acquired piece of software and being greeted by a "pirate menu." These were no ordinary start screens; they were vibrant, animated showcases, often accompanied by chiptune music, that hackers and crackers used to flaunt their digital prowess. These menus were as much a demonstration of skill as they were a distribution method for cracked software and games. It was a unique blend of artistry and rebellion, a way to connect with like-minded individuals in a pre-internet world.

The aesthetics of these pirate menus were distinctive and unforgettable. Neon colors, pixel art, and scrolling text formed the backbone of their visual appeal. They were DIY masterpieces, created in bedrooms and basements, meant to dazzle and entertain. Beyond their flashy exteriors, these menus communicated messages, credits, and even embedded jokes, forming a subculture that was as much about the community as it was about the content.

Shikantaza Art: Reviving the Rebel Spirit

Fast forward to today, and the digital nostalgia is real. Shikantaza Art has tapped into this rich vein of retro coolness, bringing the pirate menu vibe into the modern art world. By blending old-school aesthetics with contemporary design, Shikantaza is crafting pieces that evoke the same sense of wonder and excitement that those old pirate menus did. The work is a fusion of pixel art and modern graphics, often featuring animated elements and interactive components and linking to original works by consent and with collaboration of their creators.

We're not just creating art, and we're not just showcasing art; we're reviving a movement, a culture, and a way of connecting with audiences that feels both fresh and familiar.

THE FAEWAVE MENU Project: An Ode to the Past, A Beacon for the Future

Enter the FAEWAVE MENU project, our latest brainchild aiming to capture the spirit of the pirate menu era. This project is a digital platform that curates art, music, and independent video games, presenting them with the same visual flair and rebellious spirit of the old-school pirate menus. FAEWAVE MENUS are like stepping into a time machine that propels you forward, blending nostalgic aesthetics with cutting-edge content.

The project doesn’t just mimic the look and feel of the past; it harnesses it to create a community-driven space where creators can share their work in a visually engaging way. The menus are interactive, featuring music tracks, games, and art showcases that harken back to the days of floppy disks and CRT monitors. Yet, they are designed for the digital age, accessible from any desktop device with an internet connection.

FAEWAVE MENUS are more than a project; it’s a movement that resonates with both the old guard who lived through the original pirate scene and the new generation discovering its charm for the first time. It’s a testament to the timeless appeal of creative rebellion and the power of digital art to bring people together.

Check out THE FAEWAVE MENUS so far...

If you have work you'd like to feature on a FAEWAVE MENU, get in touch in the comments here, or on X.

[samairuart]

YOUR OCS ARE SO COOL i would love to learn more about them

Aw thank you!!! I have a few out there and many more inside my brain that refuse to make it out on paper 🫣

Not sure if you’re asking about these two!!! But if so, they are Sutara and Hawthorne 🫶🏽

I’m a big fan of light and dark aesthetics. Hawthorne is part of the Night Dynasty, a family of powerful shadow beings that rule and protect the Duskrealm. Hawthorne enters the Dawnrealm undercover to find and assassinate the Sun Warrior, a beacon of strength for the Dawnrealm. He’s very perplexed at finding a girl hidden away in a tower instead 🤷🏾‍♀️ who is she? What is she being kept locked up for?

[tales-of-wocdes]

(This got very long sorry, I just enjoyed the demo a ton but had a lot of questions LOL)

Curious what the rationale behind the protectors wearing their armor all the time is. Armor certainly isn't as cumbersome as some media portrays it, but as everyday wear wouldn't it still get in the way a bit? Is it made something special like mithril so its generally easier to manage?

With these people supposed to be around kids frequently, I'd assume the armor has some precautions like making sure all the edges are rounded so no children cut themselves on it but its still solid metal and I'd assume that would be a bit of a safety hazard? Ironically I can actually understand carrying a weapon more than wearing armor, the weapon can be sheathed and tucked away where kids wont grab it but the armor is constantly present for kids to bump into or get fingers pinched in.

This may involve spoilers but is there a threat that justifies being constantly armored? I would have assumed that there would be some armored gate guards, and maybe some on the wall, but within the orphanage itself the protectors would wear something more practical. (In my head to preserve the aesthetic of silver protectors I picture a lot of white clothing accented with silver bits).

Don't worry about the length, I tend to ramble on and on so I have nothing to complain about :D

Now then, let's see here:

The armors of the Silver Protectors are made from a rare metal (let's call it "like mithril" for now) and enchanted. Also quite custom made. This is supposed to be an elite order founded by the Ancients after all :D So they are not as hard to move in as regular armor, nor as unsafe for the kids. Not that regular armor as far as I understand is that restrictive, there is an old youtube video about mobility.

The rest goes under the line. Talking about why they wear the armor.

Identity: For a new order, untested and unproven, the armor is a part of their identity. They are an elite order found the by the Ancients. There are great expectations on them, and they are proud to have been chosen to serve, and of the faith placed on them.

Symbol: The Silver Protectors are meant to become a beacon of safety and strength. Of Protection. They are meant to become an order that everyone knows and easily recognizes. A gleaming suit of silver armor is something everyone can associate with them. To the kids, who can come from various backgrounds and situations, the fact that their protectors wear armor could be a significant factor of actually feeling safe. Also probably cool.

Routine/discipline: No better way to get used to the armor than wear it all the time until it is just something that they are not bothered by in the least. The Silver Protectors are expected to be among the best.

Preparedness: What use is armor if it is not worn? That one time you would get caught off guard, and you are not wearing the armor and everything goes to shit because of it. Consider it from the Ancients point of view: If the armor is needed once in a 200 years, then that justifies always wearing it in the eyes of beings that time has no meaning to. Is it overkill? Absolutely. Is it something that jaded ancient paranoid beings would enforce. Absolutely.

Does any of this actually justify wearing the armor? Maybe, maybe not. Is it foolproof logic? Of course not.

You are right that perhaps inside the orphanage it could be a hazard. Even if the armor is enchanted to avoid more common issues, the armor is still metal, and I may need to consider that. You do have a good idea with the aesthetic.

Thank you for pointing this out :D If other people have opinions, then do please share.

[invested-in-your-future]

Would you say that Jaune's issues were dealt with better than Ruby's, worse or just different?

I think I talked about it before, but I feel like the writers ended up massively misreading what the issue with Jaune is.

So whichever issues they do try to deal with are fundamentally different from the ones they need to deal with.

And in roundabout way, Jaune gets to "deal" with the things Ruby should.

Jaune gets to angst about Pyrrha, having failed her and so on (in spite of being the ONE character in entire cast to have gotten actual moment of closure with her). Ruby gets to watch him angst about Pyrrha instead of having to deal with what happened as after all she was the one who saw it happen and having idolized her as this definition of what a Huntress should be.

Jaune gets to deliver monologues about leadership and how he never asked for this and how he wants to be better and Ruby doesn't - the moment in V4 where Ruby begins to and the show just has Jaune steal the monologue is SEARED into my brain. It's so emblematic of what's wrong with the character.

Jaune gets to worry about failing his teammates. Ruby gets to watch her teammates get saved by Jaune rather than being allowed to deal with the very obvious self-doubts about her leadership that should have arose after her team went all different ways at the end of V3. Which in turn makes her handling of the whole Atlas situation feel ultra unfounded.

JAUNE gets to give Penny "closure". Now that was needless and redundant in the first place, but Penny's end is with Jaune rather than her actual best friend half of whose issues were built on Penny dying. Instead Ruby dealing with that gets OFFSCREENED.

Most of those...aren't really needed for Jaune.

Jaune's issue never was that he just wasn't good enough protector or that people keep dying around him or that he should "man up (and get a Cardin haircut)".

Somehow, somewhere along the way, the showrunners had decided that the main flaw with Jaune is that he just isn't manly tortured hero enough. The the main issue is that he is "too wimpy" and thus needs to "man up" and get a cool haircut and knight aesthetic and be all tortured hero.

Not the inherently toxic attitude he had originally approached being a Huntsman with, where he seemed to have based it around the notion of "respect" and "fame" rather than duty.

Not his initial lack of accountability or inability to understand boundaries.

Not his misguided self-destructive notion that because he's at Beacon he will now be the protagonist hero and has to protect everyone and live up to "being the hero".

Not his subconscious belief that "because he's the nice guy with a family legacy, he must do it and succeed at it"

Not his insecurities and needless toxic attempts to "prove himself".

Not his absolute inability to let himself be vulnerable.

Not the undercurrent of unintentional misogyny that comes from the way he approaches others, especially women (remember when the show celebrated that he kept bugging Weiss after she had said no to him?)

Not the idea of how character is positioned in a position to challenge gender-stereotypes.

Not the undercurrent of misogyny in the writing of the character.

No. He gets to Adam Jensen around with "I never asked for this", while walking through a trail of dead women.

If my doctor had prescribed laxatives to treat my flu, I sure wouldn't go around congratulating them for having prescribed me something even if entirely wrong.

[hit-tab]

Guess who's back! Yep, it's @insufficientchill's Conall and @ritens' Lane! I took a few too many screenshots, so brace yourself. <3

Yeah, bud, that's the whole point of this party comp. I thought it'd be fun. Don't you worry about it! It'll be fiiine.

I'm sure Conall and Lane only have the best of opinions after seeing me fail this levitation-jump five times in a row because I refused to waste a harpy snare beacon. I mean, it's a jump over the brine so I can try as many times as I want without consequence...except for the rapidly dwindling respect of my pawn's friends.

Speaking of, check out this cool underwater shot I got while getting eaten by the brine. Neat, huh?

Here's a shot of Conall being awesome. Fire suits him so well! Mage vocations have such a cool aesthetic, I swear.

And here's Lane kidnapping a knacker(?) that knocked me down. It always tickles me when pawns do that.

"Lane, was that your arrow?" "'Twas not me." "..."

Guys I know you're very excited to pal around but please look out for monsters.

I think René misses being a warrior...

I managed to get a cool shot of Lane, finally. Look at him! He's so ready to wreck face!

My new favourite hobby...equipping a bow specifically so that I can kick rocky saurians. And maybe also other saurian-type monsters. I'm really not too picky.

The whole team is working together! Look how cool everyone is! It's so rare to get them all in one shot that doesn't look like they're all doing their own, random thing.

Conall helping me out after I got wasted by a goreminotaur...thanks, man. Sorry it wasn't the monster you were after. Where's Lane and René? Just over there? They're high-fiving and/or fist-bumping? Oh... ;-;

I was trying to capture a bunch of little victory poses and Lane was having none of it haha.

I don't think Conall knows how to deal with René's shenanigans, the poor guy. (Also check out Lane hiding in the tall grass like a wild pokemon pft.)

Look at these two and their lining up perfectly and their matchy bows. I forget what they were aiming at...probably a bat.

René, buddy, I'm not sure that's going to work. Max rank and he still isn't quite sure how to be an archer smh. Glitches are fun.

Er...Conall? I'm not sure we needed this spell for one teeny little minotaur that had a sliver of its health left, but at least we completed your quest.

René is way too happy about the meteors.

Camping: miserable and wet edition. The poor pawns sitting in the rain...

I had so much fun with Conall and Lane this past couple of sessions! We all got a little dinged up (no tank no real healer) but that might have also been because I went wandering around the volcano area and everyone kept stepping in lava rip. Nothing a little more resting couldn't solve. Sorry in advance if they complain about their burned feet when I send them back.

I actually did Lane's quest first, but sadly didn't get any pictures of us fighting the golem...s? I think we fought two of them. Yeah, one on the volcanic island and another in mainland Battahl, I'm pretty sure. Something about golems makes me forget to take pics I swear.

Anyway, this party comp is surprisingly viable. I only switched to my magick bow for things like spooky ghosts and dragonkin. Everything else was three bow one sorc baybee! SO much fun.

(I haven't sent them back yet! Will do soon.)

Bonus victory pose I have never seen:

Behold. René's applauding. And because there's an enemy in the distance, he's applauding angrily!

I love it so much?? He just-- looks SO mad haha.

[problematic-rwby-shipping-poll]

A/GE GAP BRACKET - ROUND TWO: IRONYANG VS IRONIKOS

Propaganda is below the cut.

IRONYANG

"Literally James' best ship, the connection they had since vol3, the shared understanding as people with disabilities, the contrasting warm and cool aesthetics, they're beautiful."

IRONIKOS

"Pyrrha's soul power is literally control over metal and most of Ironwood's body is made of metal. If that isn't some kind of metaphor for domination (in a good way) then I don't know what is."

"Imagine a universe where Pyrrha survives Beacon, obtains the other half of Maiden powers and is taken to Atlas for her own safety. There, she becomes one of Ironwood's trusted confidantes on the level of Winter and the Ace Ops and then they fall in love."

[metawatts]

Justice League x RWBY: Super Heroes and Huntsmen Part One

I've been workshopping this review for a week it is 9 fucking pages but anyway: It's dangerous to go alone! Take this!

Table of Contents

#1. Introduction: Not for DC Fans

#2. Starting off: “The Good-

#3. Propping Up RWBY over the Justice League

#4. The Texas Character Massacre

#5. Oh boy lets talk about the writing

#6. Other General Notes: -The Bad, and The Ugly”

#7. Final Scores!!

TL:DR- They better not make the 'part 2'. Let's get into it.

#1. Introduction: Not for DC Fans

Let’s get this out of the way: this is a movie made for RWBY fans. It’s made for people who are familiar with RWBY, with the characters, with the worldbuilding, and it’s made with the idea that the people watching are RWBY fans, with DC fans as the backburner. The first reason why I think this? The DC characters get a lot more exposition on who and what they are, while the RWBY characters get to exist and be ‘cool’.

The second reason? This movie is, lets face it, mean-spirited towards DC. And yeah whatever, a DC comic writer wrote this, but to be fair with the state of comics nowadays that says absolutely nothing about respect given to the characters that are popular and well-known (hint: it’s not RWBY). This movie is drenched in schoolyard meanness. It’s all about pointing and laughing at the DC characters. Our introductory scene to this film involves Superman being systematically humiliated in his first scene (unable to use his powers, having his hero codename be mocked, etc.), and that sets the tone.

Meanwhile, the RWBY characters are introduced with action set pieces and knowing about the world they are in. The DC characters are the ones who are comedic relief, who need to be ‘taken down a peg’, who must struggle and prove themselves to RWBY to get the ‘honour’ of working with them, while RWBY doesn’t have to struggle and instead gets to just be ‘cool’. And that’s detrimental to the RWBY characters as well too, by the way, so don’t think I’m being unfair. No one in this film has a character arc, except Jessica, supposedly, and Batman, unfortunately, and you would think that coming off the back of volume 9, often called the ‘character development’ volume, people would be complaining that RWBY and JNR are quite flat, in how they progress through the film.

Basically: The RWBY characters are set dressing; the Justice League are punching bags. With that as our thesis, let’s review this movie. (warning for spoilers)

#2. Starting Off: “The Good-

Now, I won’t pretend this movie was enjoyable for me by any means, but I’m not unreasonable, it had its positives. Four, specifically.

The first one is obvious: the Spectacle Fight Scenes. This movie had a bunch of fights packed away in it, and the overall quality of them was on the whole, in the higher tier of rwby’s Maya fight scenes. Bar a few bits of wonkiness and the general writing surrounding the fights, they were fun. A particular shout-out to my favourite one at the end, Hacked!Flash vs Everyone, that one was fun and fast and highly enjoyable.

Number 2: Batman’s semblance. I’ll fully admit that I’m pretty sure my enjoyment of this power implementation was purely because I like Batman: Arkham Asylum, and this is literally just ripped right from that down to the aesthetics, but, well- I like Batman: Arkham Asylum, and therefore I like Bruce’s Detective Vision semblance and how it was used pretty creatively compared to most other semblances.

Third times the charm: Superman was my shining light, my beacon of hope in this film. He was kind, he was polite, he was supportive and brave and friendly and also, surprisingly for RWBY, managed to do all this without being spineless, he was willing to stand up for himself when he thought he was being treated unfairly (at least, 80% of the time). I wouldn’t even normally consider myself a massive Superman fan, I like when he’s well-written and I notice when he isn’t, but this movie had me actively rooting for any time where he was on screen, he was my absolute highlight in this film, love him even if his fit is fuckin ATROCIOUS. (and his voice acting was, by and large, one of the strongest performances, beyond Kilg%re and Hacked!Barry, who were just clearly having a delightful time villain monologuing)

Number four: the idea of Grimm absorbing dust. It’s a brilliant idea that really ups the stakes in RWBY fights, considering dust is their go-to offensive weapon and literally powers all their bullets, and, amazingly, it was also a cool idea that was carried throughout most of the film. Every Grimm in this film had the ability, more or less, and they used it often and to great effect. Very nicely implemented.

(Final tiny shout-out: the Justice League’s superhero outfits in their own world, that we regrettably only see in a few flashback images, looked GOOD. I wish they kept them instead of getting the outfits in the film proper)

But alas, this film really did have a lot more negatives than positives, so lets get into the first big flaw, and the one I would consider the movie’s biggest failing:

#3. Propping Up RWBY over the Justice League

I mentioned it in the intro, but this movie is consistent in how it utterly devalues the Justice League characters and does everything in its power to showcase RWBY and JNR as ‘better’ in every way. Now, the argument is that this is intentional, seeing as the villain deliberately nerfed the JL characters into being teenagers to weaken them. To which case I point at probably what is probably the most referenced episode of the Justice League cartoon in regards to this movie, the one where they’re turned into literal children, appropriately named ‘Kid Stuff’, and I’ll also point out the lesser known episode of Justice League Action called ‘Trick or Threat’, which had the added bonus of wiping the JL character’s memories of being superheroes.

Now, why am I bringing these up? Its because both of these episodes had the same villain idea as this movie: de-age the Justice League to weaken them, and both of these episodes also did something that the movie failed to do: keep the characters in-character and acting their age, and treat them with respect. I’ll get to the character issues in the next section, but the idea of treating characters respectfully is not done in this film.

Superman, as stated prior, is nerfed, his name is made fun of, he’s talked down to constantly, he’s insulted, he’s distrusted, and not just by team RWBY. But he is not the only one. Wonder Woman has a mishap when trying to get the hang of her new abilities and Blake and Yang laugh at her. Flash, Vixen, Cyborg, and Green Lantern spar against JNR and despite still maintaining most of their adult memories beyond the immediate, and supposedly their skills minus powers, end up on the defensive. Against JNR, not even against the main team RWBY or against Pyrrha. They are outclassed by the side-character team. Batman, the hand-to-hand specialist, is outclassed by Weiss in close-quarters and then a few random SDC guards, Wonder Woman and Superman mostly escape unscathed, beyond the new drawbacks of their semblances, but it’s telling that most of the fight scenes are more focused on the cool things RWBY and JNR do instead of the JL characters (bar the Big Three). Cyborg’s biggest combat moment that’s given any narrative weight is him powering up Nora. Vixen doesn’t even get a moment, and Flash’s only moments come when he’s being the Villain and not Flash. The JL characters are supporting characters in a movie that’s supposed to be about teamwork.

Second point: they really hype Grimm up as scary, even stating ‘Grimm aren’t like your normal monsters, they’re soulless beings that only care about destroying and killing’. And it’s treated as a big moment of internal revelation and horror for the Justice League. Let me say that again, the fact that monsters only care about destroying things, is played as horrifying. For the Justice League. The guys who faced down, canonically in this film: Vandal Savage, an immortal sadistic genius who literally just wants to destroy the world consistently, and Brainiac, a hyper-intelligent alien android who’s goals range from ‘destroyed krypton in some continuities’ to ‘hobbies include horrifically mind controlling people to do evil and shrinking Actual Cities for his snow-globe collection’.

But yes. Grimm are scary now. These are the same Grimm that basically act as cannon fodder in all of RWBY’s actual run time, bar one-offs, and exist just to give the protagonists something they can guilt-free rip their way through to show off. Those Grimm. Those are the scary ones now, supposedly. Despite this artificial attempt to make RWBY seem more badass then the league for fighting monsters, the Grimm are still cannon fodder, the movie doesn’t stray that far from RWBY’s conventions.

Finally, there’s a consistent running theme that ties into the leadership qualities of Ruby vs Clark, but mostly ends up as ‘the Justice League try to come up with ideas and plans, and team RWBY and JNR yell at them for daring to tell them what to do’. Most particularly, it’s Wonder Woman, Superman, and Batman who actually spark Team RWBY into realising that there’s a problem that needs solving. It’s them that comes up with 90% of the plans, and its them that put their money where their mouth is on being not only a good team and smart heroes, but also as friends (more on that later). But instead, whenever they come up with good ideas, it’s shut down, mostly by Nora, and also Yang, as ‘I’m not going to listen to you/don’t tell us what to do/you’re not the boss of me’.

There’s a very big sense of undeserved ego there, especially since the RWBY characters haven’t actually given a reason why they shouldn’t listen beyond general contrariness. But also, it’s a sentiment that does not work on a battlefield, and it does not work in a movie that tries to have a theme of ‘coming together’. Mostly because in a standard plotline about ‘working together’, the disagreements usually require resolving, or meeting in the middle. There is none of that here. The Justice League just bends the knee and goes with being mistreated by teenagers who have not shown their chops as heroes, but it’s still given the ending of ‘we’re all friends now’. The first of many character assassinations throughout this film.

#4. The Texas Character Massacre

This one’s a doozy. No one escapes. Not even Superman, who is almost entirely spared, even he gets a dose of a ‘RWBY Heroic Speech that is just Empty Token Hero Stuff’ (AKA the thing that’s been plaguing Ruby since vol4). But I’ve used Superman already a lot, and he’s probably the least egregious of what happens here, so let’s get into the meat of this topic.

Everyone and their mom on twitter has been commenting about how Batman does not feel like Batman in this. And it’s true. Batman, the self-admitted ‘I haven’t been a kid since I was eight’, the man who is so obsessed with Gotham City it will one day kill him, the man who, even if in this continuity is not a father of 4-8+ adopted children, still has Alfred who he would die for and would die for him, the man who in the current comics run of RWBY in the DC universe says with his mouth ‘I don’t want this semblance, relying on it is detrimental in the long-term’. This Batman. Wants to ditch Gotham because he has wings and powers now.

‘Batman getting powers’ is not new ground, by the way, but the absolute moping this version of Batman does is not only annoying and actively unlikable, it also makes no sense. In the span of ten seconds, in the same conversation, he goes from ‘I want to go home’ to ‘I want to stay where I have powers’. This isn’t presented as a conflict of interest either, by the way. He just completely switches his mind because Weiss said ‘hey stay here’. There’s no consistency, there’s no internal character motivation, it felt like they just wanted to have one character conflicted about leaving HoloRemnant and decided just to throw a dart at a board without caring who it fit. So yes, Batman? Massacred.

Wonder Woman also got severely screwed over too. I had this in my notes that Wonder Woman only acted in character when she was reuniting with the rest of the Justice League and was allowed to show kindness and compassion. The rest of the time, Wonder Woman, a character defined by her love for the world (and was created to showcase feminine power, btw), is a Strong Female Character, and I do mean that in the Negative Way. She’s literally got a Batman Growl on her voice for 99% of her lines, she talks about how tough she is, about the ‘warrior’s life’, and she’s the first character to get violent in a situation. Yes, even beating out Yang ‘punch first, talk later’ Xiao Long. This feels like a parody of Wonder Woman written by someone who read the Whedon Wonder Woman script and took ‘some crazy strong bitch in a tiara’ as their entire central concept for the character. It’s not a Wonder Woman who believes in anything, she’s just a sidekick for the bees to prop themselves up with as ‘warriors’. I could write a million thinkpieces on what makes Wonder Woman an excellent hero character, but all I’ll say is this film’s Wonder Woman would not count.

Green Lantern will get her own post on how this movie handled her so fucking badly because that would balloon this review to a massive size when it’s already a Longk Boi, but suffice to say: she was whitewashed, her anxiety was mishandled, and fucking HELL I miss Simon Baz, why are we erasing Jessica’s friendship with Simon for some screentime-sucking white boy. (Racism and islamophobia, the answer is racism and islamophobia)

Cyborg, Flash, and Vixen all aren’t really characters in this movie as much as they are there to fill out the cast, but suffice to say, they were handled badly. Flash was at his most interesting when being visibly possessed by the villain because beyond that he was just entirely forgettable to the point that you will not notice he has been written out of a fight scene until Vixen goes ‘where’s Flash’. Vixen herself literally is the most sidelined of all the characters in this film, she doesn’t even get a Cool Action Moment, and has just two character traits: Sassy and Vaguely Animalistic Sometimes, not just because she’s a faunus, but her first scene we’re introduced to her sniffing a paper plane for what is literally the only ‘plot point’ she’s involved in, namely, that Flash ‘smells wrong’. And Cyborg. Man, Cyborg. They literally handed the hacking plotline to Weiss with the excuse of ‘the tech here is weird’ and instead shoved Cyborg into some weird jealousy triangle where he was so disrespected by Ren and Nora that even his goodbye to them is met with disdain. Cyborg and Vixen deserve so much better, guys.

Now, onto team RWBY and JNR. Remember how I said they were flat characters? Yeah, this bit’s gonna be a bit shorter. Ruby had probably the most ‘characterisation’ in the film, in that they literally just took volume 9’s idea of ‘Ruby has self-doubts’, slapped it on her, explored nothing, and then Clark gave her a quick Friendship Speech and she’s all smiley again. Weiss has a bit of flirting with Batman, suddenly gained hacking abilities out of nowhere, and is mainly the ‘nice but snobby’ archetype she’s been in main RWBY for ages. Actually, Weiss, Blake, Yang, and Jaune all mainly exist to serve plot points in some way. Weiss and her little storyline with Batman is just designed to reveal the villain, Jaune is there to push Jessica’s storyline of getting her powers back by Literally Curing Her Panic Attacks, and Blake and Yang? Well, they get Wonder Woman to the places she needs to visit, first Beacon, then Atlas, and then Vale again. Oh, and they have Moments. Your mileage may vary on if that’s good or not, it’s mainly superfluous to the film overall. Ren and Nora don’t actually contribute anything, beyond Ren being jealous of Cyborg and Nora, and Nora getting mad at both of them for being overly protective (I think it’s meant to be pushback against misogyny but. It’s poorly handled).

Actually, I lie. Blake does have at least one big thing of characterisation. But I’m going to put it in the next section, because it’s more of a writing problem. The final other characters in the film are Kilg%re, our villain, who is laughable, and the simulated versions of Glynda, Kali, Jacques, Ozpin/Oscar, and Pyrrha. All of whom are there just to… show that it’s a simulation, or something. They don’t do anything beyond Pyrrha being so obviously a trap for Jaune and Jessica that of course only Jaune ignoring Jessica’s common sense could have made it worse. Now, Onwards!!

#5. Oh boy lets talk about the writing

So. The Faunus racism plotline. Listen. It’s bad. We all know its bad. I’m not going into it because there are a million people smarter then me who already have done elaborate and well-thought analyses on why its bad. Can we just accept the Faunus plotline is horrendous and go from there? Okay? Okay.

So: Blake introduces the concept of faunus by describing her own race as ‘humans with ears or a tail’. As I saw someone else put it when the movie dropped, ‘people don’t describe themselves as a white person with darker skin’. Anyway, the faunus plotline. It’s not really touched on in this film beyond Jacques being racist towards Bruce and Blake being generally weird about it, and the idea that ‘the animal-themed superheroes are faunus now’, but it’s a plotline that RWBY will never escape and therefore must be mentioned as having some impact.

So lets talk about the actual racism in the movie and mention how the black woman is a Sassy Side Character, the two men of colour are shoved into a jealousy plotline over a white girl (again, reiterating: Weiss and Bruce have the hacking plotline), and the Latina girl has a white boy solve her mental illness for her after her character design was whitewashed. While I don’t think it’s intentionally racist, it is a bit of a pattern for all of RWBY’s stuff that characters of colour are either written off, villainised, or sidelined. I also want to mention: Oscar shows up in this literally just to get slammed hard into a pillar by Wonder Woman. They really can’t go five minutes without beating up this kid). This movie is not kind to the characters of colour, whether its by Actively Fucking Whitewashing Them or by just making them non-characters, and it’s just, unfortunately, exactly what was expected from a piece of RWBY media.

The mention of Oscar above reminded me: the simulation characters are… handled oddly. Ozpin is the most obviously fake, even before he starts glitching between his old self and Ozpin. But what’s strange is that out of all the simulations, Jacques of all characters has the most personality of them. Kali was always a side character, Glynda just creates exposition and sets up a fight scene, Ozpin isn’t even given a character he’s just Creepy Hologram, and Pyrrha has about one minute of ‘no wait its totally me’ before she goes The Most Evil (sidenote, they keep bringing Pyrrha back just to be evil, I hope that’s not another pattern). It’s just… strange. The way the whole villain thing in this film works is strange. Which leads me to:

Kilg%re. When I found out who the villain of this film was I went on the mother of all rants on discord. And I will post it here for posterity, just so you know exactly what the gut reaction was.

As for why this reveal sucks: well. I mean, first of all, if you introduce the concept of your surprise villain as a joke earlier in the film, which they did, then it doesn’t really make them feel all that villainous. Sure enough, it gave Kilg%re a chip on the shoulder in his villain monologue, where he was whining about being ‘the one who finally trapped the Justice League’ (bestie they’re a superhero team from comics, they get trapped once a week and twice on Sundays, you’re not special, babe, sorry). And a character desperately yelling at the screen that ‘no I’m really cool trust me’ is not… fun. It’s just sort of awkward. Sorry, Kilg%re, they treated you badly. Also, they didn’t reveal the second villain on Remnant’s side beyond saying ‘he’, even when setting this during the Vol7 Montage, so I guess that’s a mystery for the next movie, if it’s ever made (personally I’m hoping for Dr Merlot, why not).

On the flipside of villains being written badly, this film also has romance written badly. It’s just jealousy and love triangles, jealousy and love triangles. Not even interesting love triangles either, just ‘character A shows interest in character B, which makes character C get really possessive and (in all but one case) mean to B’. The As: Cyborg, Yang, Bruce. The Bs: Nora, Diana, Weiss. The Cs: Ren, Blake, Diana (again). It’s not cute, and it’s especially not cute when it’s repeated three times in the same film. It’s just boring.

Finally: and this is the thing that truly, genuinely, made me want to write this whole thing because of how rage inducing it is, is this monologue given to us by Blake:

"They sound lucky. They've never had to worry they were gonna die just from going to school. To train like your life, or worse, your friends' lives depend on it. To have to live with the fact that there's a real chance you're gonna lose them. They had a childhood."

Lets count it down, people!!

Superman: literally an allegory for illegal immigrants, refugee orphans (an alien who was adopted and raised in America after his home was made unsafe) and in many case Jewish people, what with all the Moses Allegory. Had to hide the fact that he was an alien all his life, starting from childhood.

Batman: watched his parents get gunned down in front of him at age 8. This is so integral an event that it is a fulcrum point not only of his character, but also of most of the main Dc Universe that Bruce’s Parents Die.

Flash: his mother was murdered in front of him by a time-travelling speedster and his father was arrested for it. Barry grew up with the stigma of having a murderer for a father who he is generally seen as visiting constantly in jail.

Cyborg: he is a disabled black man whose father fused him with alien technology to keep him alive after a near-death experience that also completely replaced 90% of his body and meant he had to give up on his dreams of being a sports star. Usually also has a dead mom around there too.

Green Lantern: a Latina woman who had a decent childhood by most accounts in the comics, but had the unfortunate luck of witnessing gangsters hiding a body while out hiking with her friends. Watched her friends get gunned down around her, spent the next four years extremely agoraphobic to the point of never leaving her apartment because of her trauma and the fear that the gangsters would finish the job. Family’s alive, but that was only the start of the ‘Jessica Has A Bad Time’ train.

Vixen: Mari’s backstory is a bit more nebulous as long as the main points of ‘was born in an African village, got the tantu totem, moved to America and became a superhero and usually also a model’ is met, but she also tends to have a dead mom or dead parents floating around too most of the time, whether that’s by poachers, warlords, or some other awful human-caused tragedy.

Wonder Woman: raised on an island that was in comics literally called 'Paradise Island' by her loving mother, trained with all her Amazon family to become a warrior, the island is explicitly protected from all of the evil of Man’s World by magic, and willingly chose to leave to go do good and protect people.

So we have one princess raised on a paradisal island ethnostate with loving, caring parents telling another princess raised on a paradisal island ethnostate with loving caring parents that ‘yeah your friends have horrific backstories, but they were lucky because they didn’t do what we did and WILLINGLY sign up for a job as a monster killer where we get four years of training and preparation and also are paid well for our actions instead of freelance vigilante work for charity, so if you think about it, us RWBY kids are the real victims/warriors here’.

Just in case anyone was wondering why I think Wonder Woman’s OOC in this film.

Oh also this monologue is an allegory for gun violence and school shootings, as confirmed by the writer in this article and I am including the quote for posterity and also so people can’t say I made it up: https://animemojo.com/other/exclusive-interview-with-justice-league-x-rwby-super-heroes-huntsmen-writer-meghan-fitzmartin-a14773#gs.w1iou8

“These kids are warriors and these RWBY kids are a really good look at what we’re putting a lot of kids through today. There’s a statistic I saw recently that said 1-in-5 kids will die in gun violence in America. That sucks. That’s the level of warrior stuff we’re putting our kids through and it’s a good example of what’s happening to this current generation. I wanted to make a point of saying, ‘What does that do to us?’ Looking into the leadership or what these characters go through, it’s interesting to see what they have to give up to give future generations a chance. I think that resonates a lot with kids today.” - Meghan Fitzmartin

Just. In case anyone else wants to be angry about this with me. Hey, RWBY, you can’t have the actual tagline of your show be ‘it’s also a gun’ and then go ‘gun violence is bad tho’ because oh man then your main characters look like real monsters for all the times they pull guns on people (such as all the unarmed civilians or people who they pulled guns on first who then pulled out their own guns in self-defence). Also, if this is one of the themes of the movie, then this is also the only time it’s touched on. The concept of ‘being a warrior’ becomes instantly watered down to mean ‘badass fighter’ and not ‘person carrying constant fear of death by rising gun violence’, so it’s also a really shallow use of an actually serious theme, which is par for the course with RWBY but is also still very annoying when it happens.

#6. Other General Notes: - the Bad, and the Ugly”

The music in this film was very weak. No hate to the composer but it’s barely noticeable and doesn’t really have anything of note. Normally I find a lot of DC stuff has decent music and RWBY in particular is praised for it. This was disappointing, audio-wise

The designs: Listen, RWY and JNR were fine, the Beacon designs are serviceable even if they aren’t my favourites overall. But anyway, lets rank the Justice League, best to worst!

#1. Vixen: even, somehow, in the world that is RWBY modelling, Vixen slays. She simply cannot look bad, ever. The focus on black and orange contrast instead of a million eye-searing colours, the sleekness of the jumpsuit, the fact that it’s not overly complicated, and that she actually has hair with curls in it? If not for the tail and the fact that it is literally just Harriet’s model, top points. You cannot keep a bad bitch down.

#2. Cyborg: Listen. It could have been worse. It could have been. So much worse.

#3. Wonder Woman: girlypop’s gonna cut someone on that chin, and her arm muscles look like braided bread. The ponytail would be passable if not for the way they modelled her hair tendrils, and the outfit… also could have been worse.

#4. Superman: The babyface and the way his hair is plastered to his head does not work, but I like how expressive his eyes are. The outfit is an atrocity to god but they all are from this point so at least his boots are cute and the whole denim jeans and denim jacket would work if they didn’t have that massive gold S on the shirt or the Fake Cape.

#5. Batman: ugly as sin. He has No Hood, Cowl, or Mask, his hair is bad, the scar on the eyebrow is the one cool thing, his outfit is awful, and when it’s folded up it looks like Weiss is swinging around an empty pizza box. Gotta say, at least the ears in the comic were kinda cute, the bat wings are just bland in comparison.

#6. Flash: Sir your zipper is in the shape of a zigzag and it’s very cringefail of you. The one redeeming feature is the visor but like, the hair? No. The scarf? No. The way they placed the colours on his outfit? Yikes. Throw the whole man out, Kilg%re did.

#7. Green Lantern: they put her in a blender with Ben 10 and hit ‘emulsify’ (this is insulting to Ben 10 which I am very sorry for, Ben 10 didn’t deserve this but then again neither did Jess). Her long curly hair is gone, her melanin is gone, her cute jumpsuit is gone, her brown eyes are GONE like I had my issues with the comic designs but at least it was a design and not just Ugly Bad Wrong.  

Final note: they really want us to believe that Batman beat up a guy and stole his tuxedo to blend in but during the entire time he was changing out of his hero costume and into a suit he somehow didn’t notice a pair of big honking WINGS on his back. Yeah right.

#7. Final Scores!!!

Plot: 2/10

Characters: -100/10

Spectacle Fights: 4/10

Themes: 1/10

Overall score, not including the points for ‘characters’: 2.5/10

Do NOT make another fucking movie with this premise. (I will write up Jessica's personal meta in the future, keep an eye out).

[axisdesigners1234]

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[pilot-boi]

So I know that your favorite one is obviously Arkos, but what are your thoughts on the other Jaune ships? The ones I have in mind are Lancaster, White Knight, and Arculus Rift (Jaune/Penny, ik that one's not used much because there's no basis in canon but they're so funky in my head and I think they would have the absolute funniest interactions), but as The Jaune Enjoyer Ever™️ your insights on any ship would be based beyond mention.

Gonna state right off the bat that I’m not much of a shipper. I like characters being in close platonic relationships rather than romantic or sexual ones. That’s just my personal preference

While I’m not a shipper, I’m pretty chill with people shipping to their hearts contents! As long as the characters are made wildly OOC, as can happen ESPECIALLY with my boy. But you seem chill, so it’s all good

So as “The Jaune Enjoyer Ever” I will do my best :]

I do adore Arkos, it’s true. They were perfect and precious and CRWBY why do you have to keep tormenting us

After V9 White Knight has honestly been growing on me. They’ve both come a long way since Beacon, and they’re obviously close friends, so if it progressed from there that would be super cute

I like the whole knight aesthetic they’ve both got going on, and their dynamic is excellent. So yeah I’m on board

Lancaster is cute. It squicks me a bit personally, since they act more like siblings than any other pair of mains other than the LITERAL sisters

Don’t get me wrong, I can see why people ship them. They’re very close and deal with very similar problems. And there’s nothing like shared trauma for bringing a relationship together

But just me personally, I’m not a fan. Strictly platonic for me, thanks

Arculus Rift is a cool name, first and foremost

Secondly, I know it’s a crack ship but I could only see this relationship happening from when Penny comes back in V7 on. Not during Beacon. I’m not sure they even KNEW each other then

They would be adorable though, don’t get me wrong. They’re both such dorks, after all. It would be HELLA angst material though, given that Jaune’s former partner/first girlfriend KILLED Penny

And ya know. The fact that Jaune kills her at the end of V8. That’s some JUICY angst right there

But yeah, those are my thoughts! Hope they were fun to read, if not very insightful lol

[hmmarble]

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One of the highlights of Hmmarbledesign is its commitment to sustainability. Sourcing marble from responsible quarries, they ensure that every piece not only adds beauty to your space but also adheres to environmental standards. The meticulous selection process guarantees that only the finest materials make it to the final product, ensuring longevity and timelessness.

With an array of colors and patterns to choose from, Hmmarbledesign allows homeowners and designers alike to unleash their creativity. Whether you are looking for classic whites, deep blacks, or unique veined patterns, there’s a marble option that can cater to your unique design vision.

Additionally, Hmmarbledesign understands that the installation process is crucial for achieving the perfect look. Their team of skilled artisans is dedicated to delivering impeccable workmanship, ensuring that each piece is flawlessly integrated into your design. This attention to detail is what truly sets Hmmarbledesign apart from the competition.

For those looking to elevate their spaces, Hmmarbledesign provides more than just products; it offers a complete design experience. From consultation to installation, their commitment to customer satisfaction ensures that your vision becomes a reality. With Hmmarbledesign, you are not just investing in marble; you are investing in a lifestyle of luxury and elegance.

Marble Bathroom

When it comes to designing a luxurious and timeless marble bathroom, the use of natural stone can elevate the aesthetic of your space dramatically. The beauty of marble lies in its unique veining and rich textures, providing an elegant backdrop for any style of decor.

A marble bathroom serves as a perfect sanctuary to unwind after a long day. The cool touch and polished finish of marble create a serene atmosphere, making it an ideal choice for bath surrounds, countertops, and flooring. Choosing the right color of marble, whether it be classic white, soft grey, or bold black, can set the mood for the entire room.

One popular trend in modern marble bathroom is the use of large marble slabs for walls and floors, creating a seamless look that feels both contemporary and sophisticated. Pairing marble with wooden accents or matte black fixtures can also help to balance its opulence, giving the space a fresh and inviting feel.

Additionally, it’s essential to consider maintenance when designing your marble bathroom. Natural stone requires sealing to protect against stains and moisture. However, the effort is well worth it when you see the stunning results.

In conclusion, a marble bathroom is a symbol of luxury and style. Whether you opt for a full marble retreat or a few understated elements, incorporating this material will undoubtedly bring an air of elegance into your home.

White Marble Bathroom

A White Marble Bathroom exudes elegance and sophistication, making it a popular choice for homeowners and interior designers alike. The bright, reflective surfaces of white marble can create an airy and open atmosphere, ideal for relaxation and rejuvenation.

One of the primary benefits of choosing a white marble finish for your bathroom is its timeless appeal. Whether your bathroom design leans towards modern minimalism or classic opulence, white marble seamlessly complements any style. Its versatility allows for pairing with various materials, such as sleek chrome fixtures or rustic wooden accents.

In addition to aesthetic appeal, white marble is highly durable and resistant to heat, making it an excellent material for countertops, flooring, and shower walls. However, it is essential to understand that while marble is sturdy, it requires proper care to maintain its pristine appearance. Regular sealing is advised to protect against stains and etching.

Creating a stunning white marble bathroom involves thoughtful design choices. Consider using large slabs of marble for countertops to minimize seams, thus enhancing the material's natural beauty. Floor tiles in varying sizes can add visual interest, while wall-mounted fixtures can help highlight the elegance of the marble.

Another valuable tip is to incorporate lighting effectively in your white marble bathroom. Natural light can accentuate the beautiful veining unique to each slab, while strategically placed artificial lighting can create a warm and inviting ambiance during the evening.

For those looking to enhance their white marble bathroom, accessorizing plays a crucial role. Select decor items in soft colors that harmonize with the cool tones of the marble. Fresh plants, plush towels, and decorative trays can all contribute to a serene and welcoming space.

In summary, a white marble bathroom not only enhances the aesthetic appeal of your home but also offers a luxurious and durable space for relaxation. By integrating thoughtful design elements and proper maintenance, you can enjoy the timeless beauty of marble for years to come.