#inspiration from the tannies

[sleepingorshifting]

Picture of me

pinkmermaid!reader x soft!rafe

plot : reader gets a digital camera and is now constantly asking Rafe to take pictures of her

warnings : none - just pure fluff

word count : 475

authors note : just got a digicam so thats what inspired this if you couldn't tell

"Rafey look what finally arrived!" you squealed, pulling a brand new digital camera out of a small box. "Ahh! Look how cute it is!" you continued, overjoyed the camera finally came.

You had been waiting on this camera for weeks now, and honestly you had been growing closer to emailing the company asking where they were hiding your camera. But finally, after a long week it had arrived.

"A camera? Baby you have an amazing phone with a camera, you don't need a camera" he chuckled. "Here, let me see that thing" he said, lifting the camera out of your hands.

He twisted it around in his hands, admiring the fine leather that surrounded it. "I'm assuming I paid for this?" he asks, raising an eyebrow towards you.

"Duh" you giggled, saying it as if was the most obvious thing ever.

"Here, pose by the balcony" he says, nodding towards the balcony.

"Okay" you nodded, skipping over to the balcony. As you put your hands on the balcony behind you and looked into the camera, Rafe clicked the small button, a small flash attacking you.

"Ooh it flashes" you said, rubbing your eyes.

"Of course it does babe" Rafe laughs. "Wanna retake that one? And this time be prepared for the flash." he says, propping up the camera again.

"Okay, I'm ready" you say, smiling directly at the camera and Rafe behind it.

As Rafe takes the camera down away from his eye, you nervously wait for him to tell you if it came out good or not.

"Well? Is it nice?" You ask, squirming impatiently, slowly walking over towards him.

"Very nice" he says, turning the camera around to show you.

You gasp as you see the pictures. "Oh em gee, look at the quality! And Rafe, that sky compliments me so well!! I mean it's pink- you can't go wrong with that!" You laugh, estatic that the pictures turned out so well.

"Pink is very much your colour babe" he reassures, taking the camera back to look at his girl again.

And ever since that damn camera arrived at Tanny hill, Rafe has not stopped hearing "Rafey take a picture of me!". Every day at the beach, in front of random flower bushes on the street and of course with all the sea animals waiting at her house.

By the time the 1 month mark had rolled around, the cameras storage was already full, leading Rafe to have to make another purchase to the camera company.

"Thank you Rafey!!" you cooed as you saw the order go through.

"S'alright" he sighed. "This is going to become a regular thing isn't it. Me takin pictures of you and ordering more memory sticks every month"

"Maybe" you shrugged while giggling. "But something that I'm sure of is that there is no better photographer than you."

[blackswan0613]

Of Salt & Shadow | myg

yoongi has always been the embodiment of salt and shadow—a creature of the deep, shaped by the weight of tides and secrets, masking his wounds behind icy detachment and a stoic facade. But then there’s you, a flicker of warmth in his endless gray. You stay when others drift away, your words like whispers of sunlight breaking through his storm. Slowly, you unravel the delicate threads of his pain, exposing the fragile heart beneath his hardened exterior. Yet, the question lingers like a distant tide: can he rise above the currents of his past, or is he destined to drown in the cycle of his own making?

→ Pairing: yoongi x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: strangers to lovers → Genres: fluff, smut, ANGST, drama → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 9.6k → Warnings (general) + triggers: mention of childhood trauma, FEELINGS, ANGST, brokenness, love, hope, healing, yoongi has a fuckboy attitude, and he really just needs a hug, insecurities, abandonment issues, mention of past suicide (it’s a very minor characher, not one of the tannies), emotions. → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, mention of multiple orgasms, oral, creampie, it’s just very light, poetic and sweet. →  Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note: 🫣🫣🫣 Yes, it’s me—Lissa (formerly known as kingofbodyrolls, may it rest in peace 😭). This story is for all of you I had to leave behind, not because I wanted to, but because I needed to. To every one of you who reached out, checking in on me, making sure I was still breathing and dreaming—I’m doing okay. Not amazing, not terrible—just somewhere in between, like a song stuck on a bittersweet chord. I’ve been on a break from Tumblr (RIP again, kingofbodyrolls) and writing fanfiction, but then it happened—one ordinary day at work, inspiration hit me like lightning. The final piece of this story clicked into place, and I knew exactly how to make it ache. Sad and raw, angsty enough to sting, but with the kind of happy ending you’ve all been hoping for. This one’s for you—for caring, for asking, for being such breathtakingly kind humans. I love you. I adore you. I hope this story brings you something—a spark, a feeling, a tear, or maybe even a little healing. Fair warning: it’ll probably make you cry, but I promise, it’s beautiful. The smut? Oh, it’s feather-light, soft and poetic, just what my heart wanted to write right now. And please, when you meet this Yoongi in the story, wrap him in the biggest, warmest hug you’ve got, okay? He needs it 🥹

[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 🤭

Life feels like a washed-out canvas, smeared with ash and shadow, even as the bass thrums through his veins, loud enough to shatter silence but not the emptiness. The cup in his hand is an elixir of forgetting, filled with fire meant to scorch his senses and cauterize the wounds of what he’s about to do tonight. Again.

He exhales, the weight of the world dragging him down like chains, his shoulders curving inward as he sinks against the cold, indifferent embrace of the bar stool. His eyes sweep the crowd—a kaleidoscope of strangers: glittering, laughing, unknowing. The usual suspects. Painted lips, swaying bodies, secrets exchanged between half-hidden smiles. But then there’s you.

He sees you. And then he doesn’t. He forces himself to look past you as if you’re a ghost, a memory he refuses to resurrect. But your presence has a gravity of its own, pulling at him like the moon calls the tide. Against his better judgment, his gaze drifts back, and when it lands on you, he feels the punch of it, sharp and breathless.

Your eyes—damn them—look so raw, so fractured, as if you’ve been waiting for him to glue the pieces together. Don’t look at me like that, he thinks, biting down on his bottom lip until the metallic tang of blood blooms on his tongue. The taste is grounding. It reminds him of who he is, of the rules he’s made for himself.

He takes another slow drag of his drink, the burn a welcome distraction from the ache clawing at his chest. He tells himself not to care, not to notice how you linger, how your fingers tighten around your glass like it’s the only thing tethering you to the room.

Why can’t you see it? The warning etched into every move he makes? He’s a tempest—beautiful to watch, but fatal if you step too close.

No. He can’t do this. Not again.

The decision is made before the thought fully forms. He drains the rest of his drink in one defiant gulp, the liquid fire smothering whatever ember of guilt still glows within him. His eyes catch a flash of gold in the crowd—a blonde, smiling, unaware—and he latches onto her like a lifeline.

He moves to her with practiced ease, whispers into her ear words he doesn’t mean, words that make her laugh as if they’re true. Her hand slips into his, and together they disappear through the pulsing haze of neon light.

He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t have to. He knows you’re still there, still watching. He knows your expression, the same way he knows the sting of regret that waits for him in the quiet hours of the night. But regret is a demon he’s learned to live with, and tonight, it won’t be you who haunts him.

“Hyung!” Jimin’s voice cuts through the shimmering expanse of water, desperate and unyielding as he surges forward, his limbs slicing through the waves with frantic determination. The ocean is a mirror of emotions—ripples distorting the light above, casting fleeting patterns over the seafloor.

Yoongi slows, his movements fluid and effortless, a predator at ease in his domain. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t speak, simply lets his younger friend close the gap between them. Silence is his armor, but it also leaves room for the currents to carry truths neither of them want to face.

“I’m sorry for what Tae said,” Jimin gasps, his voice heavy with guilt as he treads water beside him. His eyes glisten—not with the saltwater, but with something far more fragile.

Yoongi huffs, the sound rough, like the grind of a stone against the seabed. “Don’t apologize for someone else,” he mutters, the words carrying the sharp tang of dismissal.

Jimin’s lips curve into a wry smile, but there’s no humor behind it. “Fine,” he says, exhaling. “But you’ve got to see it from his point of view too.” His tone is coaxing, like someone trying to tame a storm, but Yoongi doesn’t want to be tamed. He doesn’t want to see anything. Not now.

The accusation still clings to him, stinging like brine in an open wound. Fuckboy. The word slithers into his thoughts, unwanted and cruel. Yes, he sleeps around—he won’t deny that. But somehow, hearing it aloud, weaponized, leaves him hollow.

“I don’t want to explain myself,” Yoongi says, his voice dropping into something quieter, something broken. “I don’t need to.”

“I know,” Jimin says softly, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “He didn’t mean it.”

But as if summoned by the apology, Taehyung swims into view, his silhouette framed by the flickering sunlight above. His arms are crossed, his expression thunderous.

“Oh, I meant it,” he spits, his voice cutting through the water like a blade. “Yoongi just likes to get his dick wet and doesn’t give a damn about the girls he leaves behind. It’s pathetic.”

The words hit their mark. Yoongi flinches, his composure faltering for a fraction of a second before he tightens it again, a coil wound too tight. Anger blooms like ink in water, dark and suffocating.

Jimin, ever the peacekeeper, senses the shift. He moves quickly, placing himself between them, his hands raised as if to hold back a brewing storm. “Tae, stop—”

But Taehyung isn’t done. “Hobi told me everything,” he presses, his voice relentless. “How every night it’s a new girl. Don’t you ever feel it? The emptiness? The loneliness?”

Yoongi’s blood surges hot, his patience snapping like a frayed rope. He surges forward, his presence suddenly immense, like a shadow swallowing the light. Their faces are inches apart now, the tension crackling like lightning.

“Listen to me,” Yoongi growls, his voice a deadly whisper, his teeth bared. “I don’t owe you, or anyone, an explanation. We’re friends, Tae, but if you don’t shut the fuck up, I swear—” He gestures sharply toward a jagged underwater cave in the distance, its dark maw gaping like a warning. “I’ll make you regret it.”

The threat lingers, cold and sharp. Taehyung swallows hard, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Yoongi’s glare. “Fine,” he mutters, backpedaling. “I’ll go. Whatever.” He turns and swims away, his retreat quick and graceless.

The silence that follows is heavy, the ocean itself seeming to hold its breath. Yoongi exhales, his chest tight with anger, frustration, and something he can’t name.

“Yoongi…” Jimin’s voice is quiet now, careful, as if speaking too loudly might shatter what remains of his friend’s resolve. He stays close, his presence a tether to reality. Yoongi wishes he wouldn’t—wishes Jimin would let him drown in his own anger, his own choices.

“We just want you to be happy,” Jimin says, his hand finding Yoongi’s shoulder. His touch is grounding, warm.

Yoongi laughs, but it’s a hollow, bitter sound that leaves a sour taste in the air. “Sleeping around makes me happy,” he says, trying to sound convincing. But the words betray him, falling flat, stripped of all conviction. Even he doesn’t believe them.

Jimin doesn’t push. He simply pulls Yoongi into a brief hug, a silent reassurance, before swimming back toward the others.

Alone, Yoongi sinks lower, his tail brushing the sand. The seafloor stretches endlessly before him, littered with clams, kelp, and scattered stones. Tiny crabs scuttle past, fish darting in pairs—happy, connected, alive.

He stares at them, his chest tight with the crushing weight of solitude. He is surrounded by life, by warmth and light, yet it all feels so distant. He is an island, untouchable, unreachable. And though he tells himself it’s by choice, deep down, he knows the truth:

He has nothing. And no one.

You’re back at the bar again, the air thick with smoke and music that throbs like a heartbeat, and there he is—Yoongi. The man with skin pale as moonlight and hair dark as obsidian, a creature carved from the night itself. His presence is magnetic, an otherworldly pull you can’t resist. Yoongi. His name echoes in your mind, a soft whisper that lingers like a spell cast two weeks ago, when you let him into your bed and, briefly, your soul. He told you then that he doesn’t do relationships, his voice cold, his eyes distant.

And yet, here you are, back at the club every night, hoping for a fleeting glance, a flicker of acknowledgment. But Yoongi doesn’t see you—not anymore. He lets other women take him home instead, their faces blurring together in the low, shifting lights of the club. His detachment should disgust you, but instead, it hurts. Not because you love him—you don’t. Or at least you tell yourself you don’t. But there’s something about him, an unspoken ache that calls to you, as if you were meant to carry part of his burden.

He seems so lonely. So unbearably sad. His face, stoic and cold, masks something deeper—a raw, unhealed wound buried beneath layers of indifference. It makes your heart ache, not because of his beauty or the ghost of his touch, but because he looks like a kicked puppy, or a man drowning in an ocean of his own making. You see through the cracks in his armor. You feel it in the way he avoids your gaze, in the heaviness of his sighs when he thinks no one’s watching.

There’s more to Yoongi; you know it as surely as you know your own name. And you’ve made up your mind—you’re going to find out what lies beneath. It doesn’t matter how many girls he lets lead him away into the night. This isn’t about jealousy. It’s about the way his sadness haunts you, the way you can’t help but want to see him smile, even just once.

A few days later, you’re back at the club. The air feels heavier tonight, almost electric, and your eyes immediately find him—Yoongi. But this time, he’s not alone. A man with fiery red hair sits beside him, his smile warm and radiant, a stark contrast to Yoongi’s storm-cloud demeanor. If Yoongi is the night, this man is the sun, shining unapologetically.

For weeks, Yoongi hasn’t looked at you, hasn’t acknowledged your presence. But tonight, you’re done waiting. With determination in your step, you weave through the crowd, your heart pounding with every beat of the bass, until you’re standing at his table. Without hesitation, you pull out the chair across from him and sit down.

Yoongi’s eyes snap to yours, startled and—yes—a little annoyed. His lips press into a thin line, while his friend looks at you with an amused grin.

“Hi, Yoongi,” you say softly, offering a smile that doesn’t waver under his glare.

He grunts in response, his gaze flicking away from you.

The red-haired man leans forward, his grin widening. “Hi, I’m Hoseok,” he says, his voice bright and inviting.

“Yoongi told me about you,” Hoseok adds, laughter dancing in his tone when Yoongi rolls his eyes dramatically.

You blink, surprise coloring your expression. “He did?”

“Not in detail, or many words,” Hoseok chuckles. “But yeah.”

Your lips curve into a small, almost shy smile. “I know Yoongi’s a man of few words,” you tease, leaning forward slightly. “You’re more the listening type, right?”

For a fraction of a second, Yoongi flinches—barely noticeable—but you catch it. He recovers quickly, his expression hardening. Another grunt escapes him, which only makes you and Hoseok laugh.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” you say lightly, though your voice softens as you add, “But I’d love to hear more about you.”

“There’s nothing to learn,” Yoongi replies, his tone flat and unyielding. “I told you before—I don’t do relationships.”

The words sting, but you push the feeling aside. You lift your chin, meeting his cold gaze with calm resolve. “Who said I wanted a relationship?”

Yoongi scoffs, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t sleep with the same person more than once.”

“Who said I wanted sex?” you counter, your smile unwavering. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hoseok hiding a laugh behind his hand.

Yoongi freezes, his expression momentarily slipping into something vulnerable, like a crack in ice. He looks at you as if he can’t decide whether to be insulted or intrigued.

Taking your chance, you lean closer, your voice lowering just enough to draw him in. “Listen, I won’t deny that you were amazing in bed. But this isn’t about that.” You pause, your gaze softening. “You seem… broken.”

The word lingers in the air between you, heavy and raw. Yoongi’s reaction is immediate—he stiffens, his eyes widening like a cornered animal. For a moment, you think he might run. You reach out, gently placing your hand over his, grounding him.

“I know it’s not my business,” you say softly, “but you can tell me. I can be your friend.”

His hand retreats from yours, his movements abrupt, his walls slamming back into place. “It’s not your business,” he says, his voice colder than ever. Then he stands, turning away from you without another word.

You watch his shadow retreat, your heart sinking as you lean back in your chair with a sigh. Beside you, Hoseok lets out a chuckle, his eyes sparkling with something between pity and admiration.

“If it’s any consolation,” Hoseok says, “that’s exactly how he treats his friends.”

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head.

“But,” Hoseok continues, his voice more serious, “you should try again. Yoongi’s got a hard shell, but sometimes, the ones who seem the most unreachable are the ones who need someone the most.”

He slides a drink toward you, his smile kind, and you take it with a grateful nod. As you sip, your thoughts linger on Yoongi, on the mystery of him, and on the ways you might find the cracks in his walls.

Yoongi is trying to fill the void again—just like every day. The club, with its pulsing music and flickering neon lights, has always been his preferred poison, a place where the noise drowns out the silence inside him. But lately, it’s been harder. Harder to find someone, harder to slip into his usual rhythm.

Because of you.

You’re always there now, sliding into the booth across from him with a brightness that’s almost jarring in the shadowy haze of his world. You talk—about everything. Your life, your friends, your work, your family. At first, it was all surface-level chatter, the kind of words people throw out to fill silence. But over the days that stretched into weeks, the conversation deepened. You’ve started sharing your dreams, your struggles, your quiet hopes for the future. And still, Yoongi listens in silence.

He doesn’t mind. In fact, he hears every word, even if his eyes occasionally drift to the dancefloor, to the swirl of bodies moving to the beat. But something has changed—his heart feels heavier, more unsettled, every time you speak. It’s as if your words are planting seeds he doesn’t know how to nurture. And he doesn’t understand.

Why do you keep talking to him, when he offers you nothing in return? When every night ends the same, with him slipping away, letting someone else take him home? He can see the flicker of hurt in your eyes, the way you mask it with a soft smile, as if you’ve already accepted his nature. But Yoongi isn’t blind—he knows he’s hurting you.

And yet, you stay.

You should run, he thinks to himself, over and over. But you don’t.

And he doesn’t understand.

He’s not special. He’s nobody. Just a hollow shell drifting through life, alone.

“Yoongi?” your voice cuts through his thoughts like a bell, and he blinks, realizing he’s blanked out again. The sound of his name on your lips pulls him back into the present, and he takes a sip of his drink, stalling for time.

“That’s why you’re like this, right?” you ask softly, your eyes searching his face with an intensity that unnerves him. Yoongi stares at you, his mind scrambling to piece together what you said before. He feels his pulse quicken, feels the weight of your question pressing on him like a heavy stone.

“Someone hurt you?” you ask again, your tone quieter this time, sadder.

He huffs a laugh, low and bitter. “Nah, darling. No one hurt me,” he lies, his voice rough and strained, as if the words have clawed their way out of his throat.

You tilt your head, your gaze piercing, and he feels like you can see straight through the facade he’s spent years perfecting. “You and I both know that’s a big, fat lie,” you say with a knowing smile, taking a sip of your drink. “But okay.”

Yoongi blinks, caught off guard. How do you know? How can you see the pieces of him he thought he’d hidden so well?

As if reading his mind, you add with a grin, “Don’t worry, I can’t read your thoughts. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so… cold.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, leaning across the table with a gentleness that takes his breath away.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “You don’t have to tell me. Not until you’re ready. I don’t want to force you.” And then, without hesitation, you reach across the table and take his hand.

The touch is soft, grounding, and yet it sends something blazing through his veins—something foreign and unnameable.

Since that moment, things have shifted. Yoongi still shows up at the club every night, but now, he doesn’t leave with someone else. He stays. He lingers. He sits with you, and for the first time, he talks.

At first, the words come slow, halting. But as the nights go on, he finds himself sharing bits and pieces of himself, fragments of the person he’s hidden away.

“My friends wouldn’t believe me if I told them I’m actually talking to you,” he says one night, a faint chuckle escaping his lips.

“Why?” you ask, leaning closer, as if the world beyond the booth has faded away.

“Because,” he replies, his voice tinged with self-deprecation, “like you said all those weeks ago, I’m more the listening type. Actually, I’m not really a ‘people’ type of guy.”

You stare at him for a moment, your gaze steady and understanding, before nodding.

After a beat of silence, you speak again, your voice softer now. “Do you want to meet me at the pier tomorrow?” you ask, a shy smile gracing your lips. “Maybe we could hang out somewhere else for a change. Somewhere… quieter?”

Yoongi leans back, his lips curving into a small smirk. You’re right—the club is loud, chaotic. How the two of you have managed to hold any kind of conversation here is a mystery. “Sure,” he says, the word slipping out before he can overthink it.

The smile that lights up your face sends something bubbling in his chest, something he doesn’t have a name for yet. And though he tries to push it down, to keep the walls around his heart intact, he can feel them beginning to crack.

Yoongi awakens to yet another day, the soft, golden sunlight filtering through the water, its gentle rays cascading down to the room he shares with his younger brother, Jimin. The light dances across the rippling surface above, a delicate ballet that makes their underwater world shimmer like a dream. Yoongi stretches, his body arching fluidly like the waves outside their window.

Beside him, Jimin stirs, his sleepy voice breaking the tranquil silence. “Do you have that date thingy today? With that human girl you’ve been talking to for weeks?”

Yoongi freezes for a moment, the question catching him off guard. He almost blushes—how ridiculous. Him, blushing? And in front of Jimin of all people? There’s no point in trying to look tough. Jimin sees through him anyway.

“Yeah,” he stammers, his voice barely audible. He feels his skin grow warm—uncomfortably so, like the temperature in their room had suddenly risen.

Jimin’s lips curl into a soft, knowing smile. “I hope it goes well.”

Yoongi just grunts in response, his tail flicking in irritation. He doesn’t want to say he hopes so too—doesn’t want to jinx it. But Jimin already knows. He always knows.

With a slow sway of his tail, Yoongi swims to prepare himself. He’s never put this much effort into anything before—not like this. He’s never even had a date before, if this can even be called that. You didn’t call it a date, after all, but to Yoongi, it feels like one. Just the two of you, meeting under the open sky in the middle of the day. Why, then, is his heart pounding like this? The unfamiliar sensation makes him clench his fists, trying to will it away.

Languidly, Yoongi swims toward the surface, the sunlight growing brighter and warmer as he ascends. When he reaches the shore, he finds a hidden spot, the transformation from tail to legs smooth and practiced. Behind an ancient tree, he retrieves the clothes he’d stashed away: simple sneakers, faded jeans, and a hoodie to ward off the sea breeze.

The pier stretches out before him like a bridge to another world. Small boats bob gently in the water, seagulls wheel lazily above, their cries sharp yet soothing. Yoongi sits on a weathered bench, his gaze tilting upward to the endless expanse of sky.

How free they are, he thinks, watching the gulls soar effortlessly. Free to roam wherever the wind takes them. Are they happy? He wonders. He is as free as they are—free to swim the vast, sprawling kingdom of Naraeum. Yet, for all its beauty, it cannot take him to the place he truly craves.

His throat tightens as unwelcome memories rise like shadows from the depths. He tries to push them back, clenching his hands against the swell of emotions threatening to drown him. Not now. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about them. About what they did. About what you lost.

“Yoongi… Are you crying?”

The soft voice pulls him back to the present, and his head snaps down from the clouds. There you are, standing before him, radiant in a summer dress that flutters gently in the breeze. The sunlight catches in your hair, and for a fleeting moment, you look like something out of a dream. Your smile is warm, but your eyes are filled with concern as you step closer.

Before he can respond, you sit beside him, your arms wrapping around him in a gentle, unexpected hug. He stiffens, caught off guard, but doesn’t pull away. He can’t. He doesn’t know how.

He says nothing. He doesn’t think he can.

The tears he tried so desperately to hold back slip free, falling silently onto the strap of your dress. And still, you hold him, your voice soft and steady. “It’s okay, Yoongi. Crying isn’t bad.”

He scoffs, a bitter, self-deprecating sound. “I don’t like to cry,” he murmurs, his voice so quiet it’s almost lost to the wind.

You hear him anyway. “I think it’s a sign of strength,” you say thoughtfully. Then, after a pause, you add, “Or maybe… maybe you’ve been strong for so long, you’re finally breaking.”

The words hit him like a tidal wave. Time seems to freeze. How? How can you see him so clearly when everyone else only ever looked through him?

You smile, a little awkwardly, and say, “Or, you know, maybe the wind just hit your face too hard.” You laugh softly, but Yoongi doesn’t. As much as it stings, he prefers the moments when you’re real, when you say the things that cut to the core.

“Maybe I am breaking…” he whispers, the words so soft they feel like a secret shared only with the breeze.

Without warning, you shift the conversation, your voice light and curious. “Have you slept with anyone lately?”

The abruptness catches him off guard, his head snapping toward you. “No,” he says, his brows furrowing. What does that have to do with anything?

But when he sees the way your lips curve into a gentle smile, he realizes. He hasn’t sought out anyone else’s touch since he started spending time with you. He hasn’t tried to fill the emptiness with fleeting nights and hollow embraces. He hasn’t needed to.

You rest your hand on his knee, your touch grounding him. “Maybe you’re healing,” you say simply.

Healing. The word lodges itself in his chest, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. Could it be true? Could you—you—be the reason he’s beginning to feel something other than the ache of emptiness?

He wants to tell you this, to share the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind, but before he can, you speak again, your tone soft and hesitant. “I actually wanted to tell you something.”

He turns to you fully now, his eyes locking onto yours. “What is it?”

You look up to the sky, your eyes tracing the same infinite blue Yoongi gazed at just moments before. The breeze tugs at your hair, a playful reminder of the world’s ceaseless motion. You inhale deeply, as though trying to draw courage from the air itself, and then your gaze lowers, heavy with hesitation.

Yoongi’s sharp eyes catch the way your fingers curl around the hem of your dress, twisting the fabric like you’re wringing out your thoughts. He wonders what storm you’re holding back, what truth is weighing you down, and if he’s ready to hear it.

“I don’t have many friends,” you begin, your voice quiet, fragile—like a single note trembling in a vast, empty room. You turn to face him fully now, and Yoongi watches the weight of the words settle in your expression. “Actually… I don’t have any friends,” you continue, your voice cracking under the strain. “Not since my best friend… took his own life.”

Yoongi feels the breath hitch in his chest. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t move. He knows what it’s like to tread these waters, the ones that pull you under no matter how hard you swim.

“I guess…” you pause, looking down at your hands as you push a strand of hair behind your ear, “maybe I saw some sadness in you, and it scared me. I wanted to be there for you, even though I didn’t really know you. Maybe I still don’t.” Your voice dips into something softer, more uncertain. “But…” you trail off, running a hand through your hair in frustration. Yoongi notices the way your cheeks flush slightly, and somehow, he finds it endearing. You’re endearing.

You exhale shakily. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess.”

He surprises himself by laughing—low and soft at first, then louder as he fails to hold it back. You stare at him, bewildered, your expression a mix of confusion and irritation.

“Sorry,” he says, trying to smother the sound with a cough. “But if anyone’s a mess here, darling, it’s me.”

You blink at him, and your lips curve into a tentative smile. “I just wanted to tell you… you matter to me. Since that day we—” You hesitate, the memory flickering in your eyes before you look away. “Since that day we slept together. I know it didn’t mean the same to you, and that’s okay.” You shrug, but Yoongi sees through it. The slight tremble in your shoulders, the way you avert your gaze—it’s all there, laid bare for him to see.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice quieter now. “But you shouldn’t care about me so much.” His words are a shield, one he raises instinctively, though he knows it won’t stop you. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Why?” you press, leaning forward, the intensity of your gaze almost unbearable.

“I just don’t,” he says flatly, crossing his arms over his chest like a child refusing to admit they’re wrong.

“But why don’t you think you deserve friendship, or love?” you ask again, your voice softer now, the sadness in your eyes like a dagger to his heart.

Yoongi says nothing. He stares at the ground, his jaw tightening as memories rise unbidden to the surface—memories he’s spent years burying beneath layers of denial and indifference.

“I just don’t,” he repeats, his voice weaker this time, like the weight of his words is dragging him down.

You take a deep breath, your next question as gentle as a whisper. “Because you lost someone?”

His body stiffens, his tailbone aching with the ghost of a movement—the urge to run, to dive back into the water and escape.

“A sibling?” you ask. “A friend?”

The ice in his chest spreads, freezing him in place. The world feels too bright, too loud, and too heavy all at once. But for some reason, he doesn’t run.

“My parents,” he says finally, the words breaking free like stones tumbling off a cliff. His hands are trembling now, damp with sweat—or are they wet from something else?

“Oh, Yoongi,” you breathe, and before he can react, your arms are around him. He freezes at first, but then he feels the warmth of your embrace, the way it softens the edges of his pain.

The tears come without warning, spilling down his cheeks and onto your shoulder. “They left me to die,” he chokes out, the words raw and jagged. “They didn’t want me. They didn’t love me.”

Your hand moves in slow circles across his back, and though you don’t say anything at first, your presence speaks volumes. For the first time, he lets himself feel the depth of his loss.

“I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. And that’s when he realizes—you’re crying too.

“Please don’t cry,” he says softly, the sound barely audible over his own sobs.

“It’s okay,” you reply, dabbing at your tears with the back of your hand. “I feel sad for you. And it’s just feelings. It’s okay.”

He nods slowly, his tears ebbing like a tide retreating from the shore.

“Thank you for telling me, Yoongi,” you say, your voice steady now, though your eyes still glisten.

He looks at you, his heart aching with something unfamiliar—gratitude? Hope? “I’ve never told anyone before,” he admits. Then, after a pause, he adds softly, “And… I’m sorry about your friend.”

You smile, though it’s bittersweet. “I always feel like I didn’t do enough for him…”

Yoongi shakes his head gently. “I’m sure you did everything you could. You’re doing it now—for me. And you don’t even have to.”

You huff, crossing your arms in frustration. “Will you stop thinking so low of yourself? I do care about you, and before you try to argue, let me just say this: You are a lovable person, okay? Got it?”

The sheer conviction in your voice startles him, and he can’t help but smile. It grows into laughter, and soon, you’re both laughing—soft, genuine, and unrestrained.

“Do you want to come back to my place?” you ask through your laughter. “To hang out, nothing else,” you quickly clarify, your cheeks turning pink.

Yoongi feels his own face warm at the memory of the last time he was there, but he pushes it aside, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide his sweaty palms.

“Sure,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, though his heart is racing again.

It’s been weeks, and Yoongi feels it—feels the shift in his chest every time he looks at you. It’s in the way his breath hitches when you laugh, how his heart steadies when you sit close, and the way his walls crumble entirely when he’s tangled with you in the quiet sanctuary of your bed. You both promised this wasn’t what your friendship was about—something deeper, something purer—but somewhere along the way, it happened. Your body became his solace, your presence a balm to wounds he thought would never heal.

He wonders if this is what love feels like: to be seen—not for what he can give, not for his strength or his silence—but for the person beneath it all. The boy who’s carried too much for too long. With you, he’s slowly unraveling the stoic mask he built to shield himself. You’ve coaxed out the softness he buried long ago, showing him that vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s courage.

You’re the good kind of different, the kind he never believed could exist. His friends tease him mercilessly for it, saying he’s “whipped,” calling him “domestic,” but he doesn’t care. Not when being with you feels like this—like the world could break apart, but so long as you’re with him, he’d survive it.

He’s always treated intimacy like a bandage for his fractured soul, a fleeting comfort to dull the ache. But with you, he’s learned it’s more than that. You’ve shown him that the most profound intimacy doesn’t lie in physical connection alone but in baring the parts of himself he once kept hidden—the pain, the doubt, the fragile hope. You let him shatter in your arms without judgment, kiss the tears from his face, and remind him, again and again, that he’s strong. Strong for carrying his burdens for so long, but stronger still for letting them go.

And to Yoongi, there’s nothing sexier than the way you cradle his fragility, whispering that it’s okay to break, to be human. It’s a new kind of addiction, this trust you’ve built together, and one he never wants to let go of.

On a warm summer morning, the world outside hums with life—birds singing, the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze—but Yoongi’s world is here, with you. The sunlight filters through your window, casting golden streaks across your skin, and he’s utterly mesmerized. His lips trail down your body, worshiping every curve, every scar, every piece of you, until he’s between your legs, breathing in your scent like it’s air itself.

“Yoongi, oh—right there,” you gasp, your voice raw and unrestrained, fingers threading through his hair like you’re anchoring yourself to him. He grips your thighs, spreading you open as his tongue moves with deliberate purpose, savoring every sweet taste of you. The way your body arches, the sounds spilling from your lips—it’s a symphony, one he never tires of hearing.

“I’m close,” you pant, your voice trembling, and Yoongi hums against you, the vibration making your whole body shudder. He doesn’t stop. His tongue traces the places he knows will drive you over the edge, lapping and sucking with a devotion that borders on reverence. He’s not in a rush. This is about you, about giving you the pleasure he’s memorized in his mind like scripture.

When you finally shatter, your body trembling, a soft cry slipping past your lips, Yoongi feels the heat of your release like a wildfire burning through him. He watches as your chest rises and falls, your face glowing with the aftershock of bliss. It’s beautiful, and it’s enough to make his own need surge to the forefront. But he holds back, his focus still entirely on you.

He doesn’t say it—not yet—but in the quiet moments after, as he rests his head against your thigh and listens to the rhythm of your breathing, he knows the truth: he’s falling for you. He’s already fallen. And for the first time in years, he doesn’t feel afraid of what that might mean.

“Yoongi…” You moan his name like a hymn, your trembling hands caressing his cheeks, now slick with your essence. His dark eyes meet yours, and in their depths, you see something raw, something reverent. Your own gaze is weary yet soft, radiating warmth, like the flicker of a hearthfire on a cold night. He licks his lips, leaning in to taste you once more, but you halt him, your thighs squeezing gently around his head, urging him to pause. You sit up, your skin glowing with a sheen of sweat, and the words that leave your lips are unguarded, crystalline in their sincerity.

“You’re incredible with that tongue of yours,” you murmur, voice tinged with a teasing smile, “but I want you inside me. You must be so hard, Yoongi. Why don’t you fuck me real good?”

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, and he sits up, pulling his sweatpants down with one swift motion. His cock springs free, thick and aching, slapping against his abdomen, and for a moment, his breath stutters as he strokes himself, a groan spilling from his lips like honey. You recline again, spreading your legs, inviting him in, and he aligns himself with your entrance. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pushes inside, your walls clenching around him, drawing a strangled moan from his throat.

“Shit,” he breathes, his hands gripping your hips as if to anchor himself. Your moans spill into the air like a prayer, and the tightness of you has his mind spiraling, clouded with a pleasure so consuming it feels otherworldly. He begins to move, his thrusts growing deeper, harder, until your bodies find a rhythm, a harmony that feels eternal.

Yoongi has never been one for positions like this—too vulnerable, too raw—but with you, it’s different. Everything about you makes him different. Your chest heaves, your breasts bounce with every snap of his hips, and you’re radiant, glowing in a way that makes his heart ache. You’re unafraid, unapologetic, giving him all of yourself, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever felt more alive.

“Shit,” he gasps, his pace faltering. “I’m not gonna last long.”

You chuckle, even as your breaths come short. “Come inside me, Yoon,” you whisper, your voice like velvet, and it’s all he needs. His thrusts grow erratic, and with a deep, guttural moan of your name, he spills into you, his entire body trembling as he finds his release.

“You didn’t come,” Yoongi pants, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath.

You smile, stroking his flushed cheek. “I don’t have to. You already made me come three times. And feeling you come inside me is the best feeling ever.”

His cheeks flush a deep crimson, and he averts his gaze, embarrassed but touched. Slowly, he pulls out, his softened cock glistening, and a mixture of your shared pleasure trails down your thighs.

“Maybe we should take a shower,” he murmurs, chuckling softly as he admires the beautiful mess you’ve become.

Flustered, you laugh. “You go fill the tub. Add some bath salts if you want.”

“And you?” He leans down, stealing a soft kiss, his lips lingering against yours.

“I’m cleaning up. The sheets are a disaster,” you tease, shoving him lightly toward the bathroom.

He grumbles in mock protest but obeys, making his way to the bathroom. Inside, he turns the faucet, steam curling up as water fills the tub. He finds a jar of lavender and chamomile salts, sprinkling some into the water. The scent fills the air, calming and warm, and for a moment, Yoongi pauses, catching sight of his reflection in the mirror.

He looks… happy. Happier than he’s ever seen himself. There’s no trace of the shadows that once haunted him, no lingering ghost of his past. Just him—content, smiling. He enters the tub and soaks in the water that wraps around him like a familiar blanket, warm and soft, and he sighs, relaxing into it. But his smile falters as a familiar, unsettling sensation ripples through him.

“Babe!” he shouts suddenly, splashing water as panic creeps into his voice.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” Your voice comes from the bedroom, growing closer.

“Nothing!” His voice cracks, betraying his discomfort. “But… uh… was there sea salt in those bath salts?”

“Yeah, why? Don’t you like it?”

Before he can respond, you enter the bathroom, naked and holding fresh clothes that tumble to the floor as your gaze locks onto him. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes widen, taking in the sight of him in his true form.

“Yoongi…” You say his name softly, stepping closer to the tub. Your gaze is transfixed on his tail—glossy black scales that shimmer like obsidian, the translucent fins catching the light. It’s otherworldly, beautiful.

He flicks his tail nervously, water spilling over the edge of the tub. “I… I should’ve told you sooner,” he murmurs, his voice thick with uncertainty.

“Can I touch it?” you ask, your voice quiet but filled with wonder.

He nods hesitantly, watching as you kneel by the tub and run your fingers along the smooth, cool scales. His eyes flutter closed at the gentle touch, and for the first time, he lets himself relax.

“Aren’t you afraid?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Why would I be?” You meet his gaze, smiling. “You’re still Yoongi. That’s all that matters.”

Your words make his chest ache in the best way. When you tell him to scoot over and climb into the tub beside him, he’s stunned. No one has ever stayed—not like this. Not when they’ve seen the truth of what he is. Not that a human has ever seen his true form, but as soon as he’d shown how fragile he really is, people tend to leave.

“So, you’re… a merman?” you ask, your voice soft, curious, like a whisper carried by the tide.

He nods, a faint smile curling at the edges of his lips, though his eyes glimmer with something unspoken, a secret weighed down by the ocean’s depths.

“And your parents… they’re merpeople?” you venture cautiously. But the flicker of pain in his gaze stills you, and your words falter. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about them if it hurts.”

He exhales a sigh, long and heavy, like the pull of a distant current. “It’s okay,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with bittersweet acceptance. “Yes, they are merpeople.”

Silence stretches between you, a pause as vast as the open sea. You hesitate, unsure if you should ask the question weighing on your mind, but finally, you gather your courage.

“Are they still alive?”

Another sigh escapes him, deeper this time, carrying the ache of a wound long scabbed over but never truly healed. “I think so,” he murmurs. “I don’t really know. They left me when I was three years old.”

The words fall like stones into the still waters of your heart, rippling outward. He takes a steadying breath, his gaze drifting as if he can see it all again, playing out before him like a dream fading into a nightmare.

“They told me we were going on a trip to another city. I was so happy, so excited—I’d never been away from Naraeum before. That’s the name of the city I’m from,” he adds softly, a faint smile flickering for a moment before it’s swallowed by the tide of his memory. “We swam for hours, far from the coral spires and glowing reefs I knew as home. Eventually, we stopped at this cave to rest, to sleep. But when I woke up, they were gone.”

His voice wavers, and you see the boy he once was—small, scared, alone. “I waited for them. Days turned into nights, and I tried to search, but I wasn’t strong then. I was tired, hungry, terrified. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I just… waited.”

You feel your chest tighten as he pauses, swallowing hard. “One day,” he continues, his voice quieter now, “I heard something outside the cave. I thought it was them, finally coming back for me. I swam out, desperate to see them again, but… it wasn’t them. It was someone else—another pair of merpeople from our cove. They had a baby with them, Jimin.” His lips curl into a faint, bittersweet smile. “They took me in, made me their son. Jimin became my brother. And that’s… that’s how I survived.”

You reach out, your hand trembling as it finds his chest, resting over his heart. Beneath your palm, you feel the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat—proof that he’s here, that he endured.

“You’ve been through so much,” you whisper, your voice breaking with emotion. “And yet, you’re still here. You’re so kind, so gentle, despite everything you’ve suffered. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Your words are a balm to his aching soul, and as you move closer, your arms wrapping around him, he feels something shift inside him—something that feels a little like hope. Your skin presses against his, warm and tender, your embrace like the tide itself—gentle, enveloping, unyielding.

The softness of your chest against his makes his breath hitch, not with desire but with something deeper; a feeling that he is no longer alone, that for the first time in his life, he doesn’t have to tread water to stay afloat. Your warmth seeps into him, filling the cracks he thought could never be healed, and he closes his eyes, letting himself be wrapped in the sanctuary of your love.

“I told you he’s head over fins for this human,” Taehyung says, rolling his eyes in dramatic flair, his tail flicking against the current.

“He’s in love,” Jimin retorts with a huff, crossing his arms. “Don’t judge him.”

Yoongi wonders—not for the first time—why he bothers letting his friends meddle in his life. Don’t they have better things to do than dissect his feelings like fish in a net?

“I think it’s great, hyung,” Namjoon says, his voice warm, his smile kind. “She’s good for you. And now that she knows you’re a merman… maybe it’s time you show her Naraeum? Show her your world.”

The idea lingers in Yoongi’s mind like a whispered tide. Show you Naraeum. The city of his origins, a place of glowing coral spires, shimmering schools of fish, and seas that held as many memories as wounds. It makes sense, doesn’t it? To take you to the other half of his heart—the one that doesn’t belong entirely to you yet. But how? How can he merge these two pieces of his life, these two homes, when they feel as distant as the stars above the waves?

Mark’s voice cuts through his thoughts like a jagged reef. “Don’t you think you’re just going to hurt her? Do what you’ve always done?” His tone is sharp, indifferent, like a hook slicing through flesh.

The words hit Yoongi harder than he expects, making him flinch. His chest tightens, his mind spiraling. Hurt you? Leave you? The thought feels foreign—and yet, uncomfortably familiar. Because once, that was who he was. He’d flee at the first sign of intimacy, drowning in his fear of vulnerability. And if he’s honest with himself, a small part of him is still scared. Scared of you leaving him. Scared of not being enough.

His heart pounds like a storm-tossed sea. The doubt, planted by Mark’s careless remark, takes root. It twists through him, a dark, creeping thing.

“Don’t say that, Mark,” Jimin snaps, his voice sharp as breaking waves. He pushes Mark back with an annoyed flick of his tail.

“Yeah, how can you be so inconsiderate?” Taehyung chimes in, his glare cutting through the water like sunlight through the shallows. Namjoon nods, his silent support steady as a reef.

But their words can’t reach Yoongi, not when his mind is a whirlpool of insecurities. His throat feels tight, like the ocean itself is pressing against him. He wants to believe you love him—you stayed when you found out he wasn’t human. You didn’t run. But what if you’re just tolerating him? What if you think he’s too broken? Too weak? Too… unlovable?

“Hyung,” Jimin says gently, trying to pull him back to shore. “Calm down. Don’t listen to him.”

But Yoongi shakes his head, the weight of his fears pulling him under. “What if he’s right?” he whispers, his voice cracking like fragile glass. “What if she doesn’t really love me? What if she’s going to leave me?” He pauses, his words trembling with raw vulnerability. “I don’t deserve her.”

Jimin’s face twists with frustration. “You’re not making sense, hyung. Of course, you deserve her.”

But Yoongi’s voice drops to a hollow murmur, barely audible over the rushing tide. “I don’t deserve to be happy.”

And with that, he turns, his tail flicking once, twice, before he swims away, leaving his friends behind. Jimin calls after him, but the sound fades as Yoongi dives deeper into the sea.

He doesn’t stop swimming until he reaches the cave—the place where his pain began. It’s here, in the shadows of jagged rocks and the soft hum of the ocean’s lullaby, that he lets himself break.

He screams, the sound raw and guttural, muffled by the water. He cries, tears lost to the sea that surrounds him. The words Mark said play on an endless loop in his mind, each one carving a deeper wound. Is it only a matter of time before he hurts you? Or worse—before you hurt him? Everyone else has. Why would you be any different?

Days pass, and Yoongi is a shadow of himself, a ghost haunting the waters of Naraeum. He avoids you, thinking it’s for the best. But as the days stretch into lonely nights, a part of him stirs. You deserve closure, he thinks. You deserve an explanation. Even if it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done.

That’s how he finds himself at your door, long after the world has fallen silent. His hand trembles as he knocks, the sound soft but resolute.

When you answer the door, your emotions collide—a tempest of fear and relief swirling in your chest. You step aside, letting him in, though his presence feels heavier than the crashing waves of an approaching storm. He enters with a sigh, already cloaked in guilt. Guilt for being away, for the words he’s about to deliver, words that taste bitter even before they leave his lips.

You greet him with a soft, trembling smile, one that doesn’t reach your eyes. Both of you settle onto the couch, the silence between you taut as an unstruck harp string.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your voice gentle but laced with unease. He flinches, your concern cutting through him like shards of glass.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says, the words escaping him in a broken whisper. He can’t meet your gaze—if he does, he knows the dam will break, and the flood of his own emotions will drown him.

Your breath catches, fear rising like a tide threatening to pull you under. “What do you mean?” you ask, voice quiet and fragile, as though afraid the answer might shatter you.

“I can’t be with you anymore,” he says, his hands clenching tightly, his lip trembling as he bites down on it. He tells himself this is the right thing to do—leave before you have the chance to hurt him.

Tears spill down your cheeks, glistening like liquid starlight. “Why?” you choke out.

“I wasn’t looking for love,” he lies, each word a dagger he twists deeper into both your hearts. “I was just looking for some fun. I told you I don’t do relationships.” His voice is sharp, cold as the abyss, but you both know it’s a mask. He clings to it, his last line of defense, because if he lets the truth slip through, he’ll unravel.

“How can you say that?” you cry, your voice raw, your tears falling faster now.

“I don’t love you,” he says, the words tasting like poison.

Your sobs grow louder, shaking your frame, but you press on, your voice breaking with desperation. “How can you say you don’t love me? After everything we’ve been through? After everything we’ve shared?”

His resolve falters for a moment, your words piercing through his armor. Damn it, he does love you. He loves you so much it terrifies him. But he’s too afraid—afraid of the pain you might bring, afraid of the inevitable heartbreak he’s convinced himself will come. To survive, he has to end this now, even if it means destroying himself in the process.

“You were just a good fuck, that’s all,” he says, forcing himself to look up. The moment he sees the agony on your face, he feels his heart crack, fissures spreading deep within him. You believe him now, and it’s killing him.

You’re crying so hard it’s difficult to breathe. “I’m not crying because you don’t love me,” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling with pain. “I’m crying because I still love you, even though you don’t love me.”

The weight of your words crushes him. He feels like a monster, a wretched creature unworthy of the love you so freely offer. He can’t take the words back now. He’s too far gone. He feels hollow, a shell of himself, and every beat of his heart screams that he’s made the worst mistake of his life.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice breaking under the weight of his regret. “I told you I wasn’t good for you.”

You sob into your hands, and he watches, helpless, broken. Slowly, he rises from the couch. He knows he can’t stay, can’t bear to see the pain he’s caused you. He’s fractured, and now he’s fractured you, and he tells himself it’s for the best.

Through your tears, you cry out, “Why do I always fall in love with people who want nothing to do with me?”

He freezes, your words slicing through him like a harpoon. He knew you carried your own wounds, scars you never fully revealed, and now he’s only deepened them. He feels like the worst kind of coward. He thought he was protecting himself, but he’s only destroyed something beautiful.

Still, he runs. It’s what he does best. The sound of your cries follows him, haunting him, but his heart is a storm, drowning out everything else. He doesn’t turn back. He doesn’t dare.

When he finally returns home, his body trembling, Jimin wraps him in a firm embrace, whispering, “You’re so stupid, hyung, but you’re loved. You’re loved even when you don’t think you deserve it.”

Seokjin, ever the voice of reason, glares at him. “Go back to her. Apologize. Tell her you were wrong and scared.” His words are sharp, biting, but laced with truth. Yoongi knows he’s right.

But he can’t. Not yet. Not when he feels like he’s drowned in his own guilt. He’s afraid—afraid that you’ll never look at him the same way again. And that fear keeps him paralyzed, even as the longing for you claws at his heart.

It’s been almost a year since Yoongi disappeared—since he ran not only from you but from himself. You’ve replayed those moments endlessly, searching for clarity, clinging to the truth you both felt: what you had was real. It thrummed between you like a shared heartbeat, too raw, too wild to ignore. But fear has a way of stealing even the purest things. You’re certain he left before you could leave him—though you never would.

Not a day has passed without you searching for him. You’ve wandered to the edge of the sea, his home, calling his name to the waves. The ocean, vast and unyielding, has given no answers. It feels cruel, as though it conspires to keep him hidden from you. And now, summer has returned, and with it, the town’s festival.

The streets are alive with lantern light, laughter, and music that spills into the air like the hum of magic. You move through the crowd like a ghost, drifting past merchants hawking trinkets and sweets, their cheerful cries fading to a dull hum in your ears. You don’t belong here—not without him.

Then you see him.

Or you think you do.

A man with raven-black hair stands in the distance, his profile soft beneath the golden glow of festival lights. Your heart stirs to life, pounding wildly against your ribs. Could it be?

Your feet move before your mind catches up, weaving through the crush of people, breath hitching as you near him. You’re running now, every step a prayer whispered into the night. And then, finally, you’re there. Your hand reaches out, trembling, and taps his shoulder.

He turns.

Wide, startled eyes meet yours, and the world stills. Time seems to ripple, folding in on itself, carrying you back to the moment he left, the hollow ache he carved into your soul. But now he’s here, flesh and bone, and you feel as though the universe has just exhaled.

It’s him.

The regret in his gaze hits you like a tidal wave, his anguish laid bare in the depths of his dark, glassy eyes. Your breath catches as you bite your lip. What were you thinking? He left. He doesn’t want you.

This was a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, his voice cracking under the weight of unshed tears. His hands curl into fists at his sides as if bracing to run again, and your heart splinters all over. But just as you’re preparing for the inevitable—the shattering of hope—he moves.

He collides with you, his arms wrapping around you with an urgency that takes your breath away. The softness of your summer dress flutters around you both as his body presses into yours. You feel his heartbeat thundering against your chest, frantic and raw, as if trying to prove he’s real, that this moment is real.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking as he buries his face into your shoulder. His tears warm your skin as his body trembles against yours. You wrap your arms around him instinctively, pulling him closer, your fingers tangling in the soft strands of his black hair.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his own eyes shimmering with vulnerability. “I won’t run anymore,” he says, his voice like a solemn vow, a plea carried on trembling lips. “Do you still want me?”

And in his words, you hear the echo of every moment you spent missing him, every wish cast into the sea for his return. You press your forehead against his, the answer trembling on your lips, carried by the truth you never stopped feeling.

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex @rapmonjoon94 @parkitrighthere

→ Taglist: @allie-in-the-moon @jeonsbabygirlsworld @bangtannie7 @suker4angst

→ Author’s endnote: I don’t really know what I think—just that I’m proud I wrote it, that I finished it. One less mermaid tale to tell, with just one more left swimming in my mind. And yes, I’m going to write that one too—because I owe it to you. I’m sorry for the way I disappeared, like a ghost slipping through a locked door. I’m not back—not really—but something sparked in me, and it felt like a crime to let it fizzle out. So here we are. There are still three stories waiting in the wings, three restless works-in-progress that will meet the page when inspiration decides to knock. Will they be any good? Who knows. My writing feels like a mess, like a tangled net that catches doubt instead of stars. Maybe that’s why I wrote Yoongi this way—because, surprise, I’m Yoongi in this one. Hahaha, the plot twist no one asked for! Trauma makes excellent fuel for fiction, doesn’t it? (For the record, no, my parents didn’t abandon me—this story has truth, but not all of it belongs to me). Anyway, this little corner of Tumblr is my new blog, but I won’t use it much. I’ll post the final mermaid story when it’s done (+ the rest I mentioned above), and after that, the curtain falls. If you’re looking for my old work or want to dive into the rest of the mermaid tales, you’ll find them tucked safely on my AO3. Thank you for reading—for caring enough to stay, even when I didn’t. And hey, in case no one has told you today: you’re extraordinary, you’re seen, and you matter to me🫂

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2025 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it 🥰

[wainwrightjakobshammerlock]

I can't be the only one who feels... Weird about the fact that BL3 basically retcons Tannis's interest in Vault science being her own choice and instead gives the credit to Typhon, who allegedly inspired her. It feels lowkey sexist from a Doylist standpoint.

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

A Little Farewell

With about a week left to go we had our final OT4 weverse live today and it's safe to say, we were not prepared. But I'm very grateful that they did a live all together giving us a last dose of chaos, cuteness and giggles before we'll be left to fend for ourselves for 6 months before Jin returns to us in June 2024.

The live truly was a beautiful gift that kept on giving starting with Tae's new short haircut and JK hiding his now shaved head from us, Namjoon even claiming that JKs hair is shorter than his own (JK supposedly felt inspired to shave his head a little early after he met Usher, who has pretty short hair himself, and went for it), and Jimin practically getting offended by a comment saying they wanted to see him with a buzzcut. To be honest Tae's cute little haircut looks a little like he did it himself in the dead of the night but it also makes him look like we traveled back in time to 2013 or earlier. Adorable. After so long it was really nice to see them together again, and to generally have more than one Tannie in a live together.

Since the first leaks about their military service appeared a few days ago we've seen vminies talk among themselves, and not to mention the near constant fighting that's been going on between the two xkook camps, but seeing vmin being so cute together in this live, it felt reassuring. Whatever questions or worries we might've had, they were washed away. In a way it makes sense that Tae and Jimin didn't go together, even if we all would've loved to see them go together and make use of the buddy system, but that isn't the choice they made for themselves and that's okay. It's easy to see what vmin are doing more than just fine and that's all that matters. Admin 2 really hoped we'd get a vmin handshake or hand holding, and we got two! I mean, look at all this cuteness:

And then also Tae going home in five minutes flat and doing a small solo live which was basically just him being adorable and talking to Jimin, who was immediately in the comments, before leaving again. Love when we get to third wheel them, wow, I truly will miss that a lot.

At one point in the live JK mentioned that he'd wanted to go to the special forces as well, implying that for some reason he couldn't, which makes me wonder why. Was it because of his tattoos? Either way, it's nice that he'll instead get to go with Jimin and supposedly they'll be in the training camp where Seokjin is one of the trainers so that's cute.

Speaking of Seokjin, after so long it was adorable how often Namjoon brought up Seokjin in this live. Just Jin hyung this and Jin hyung that, very cute. And they also mentioned Hobi a bunch, how he's gotten cooler and more manly, which comes as a great reminder to basically all of us that the cute boys we've known until now, well, they'll probably fade away and get replaced by more mature versions of our beloved members in the next months and they'll return to us as a different set of Tannies. And that's okay. They're grown up men so it makes sense that eventually some of that aegyo cuteness will fade away and personally I'm very curious to see how things will turn out and what they'll be like in 2025.

And I'm very curious to see if idiots will respect Namjoon's and Tae's pleas for people not to show up for their entrance ceremonies. Especially since Namjoon asked for it in three languages to make sure everyone understood it. Unfortunately I have my doubts, since we know the maknae line have some of the most unhinged solos but here's hoping.

Now, what does this mean for us now? Well, it'll be quite a while until we'll see the members slowly returning one after the other so we'd like to take this time for a 'official' hiatus as well. Admin 2 is considering a temporary "rebrand" into a BL blog since they've gotten into Thai BLs in the last year, so that's something that might happen. Would any of you be interested in something like that?

But we'll still be ARMY, still love vmin and namjin, and once the guys will return, so will we, so don't worry, we're not leaving BTS any time soon.

Lastly, here's a blurry screenshot of a coconut headed JK running across the screen screaming THIS WAS BTS. A beautifully chaotic ending to this solo era. Let's see what the next months will bring us and what 2025 will be like when chapter 2 will come to a close and a new chapter of BTS and ARMY will open, eventually.

Thank you so much for reading!

[krotiation]

13 + 22 for Rhys tee hee

13. What's a character/ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day?

TANNIS she's one of my absolute favorites in the series but I'm having a hard time coming up with things to draw for her 😔 mainly bc I don't ship her with anyone (yet at least) cause like 80% of what I draw is ship art. Other than her I would also like to draw Zane, Steele, Clay, Angel // Jathena, Clane, Athena/Fiona, Zane/Rhys and Sasha/August

22. Give us headcanons for Rhys

Rhys can't swim cause aside from living in space for a good chunk of his life, his cybernetics also aren't fully waterproof

The Jack hero worship started when he evacuated everyone on helios after dahl invaded, including Rhys

7+ years later, Rhys sometimes still hallucinates Jack and when he gets self-depricating thoughts he hears them in Jack's voice

He gets unbearably lonely a lot after leaving for Promethea and in some ways he was thankful when Katagawa started bugging him cause it distracted him from his loneliness, at least until it entered stalking territory

On what little free time Rhys has after becoming CEO, he nerds out by tinkering with robots and other gadgets, whether it be adding silly upgrades like disco lights or in hopes of having a eureka moment with atlas' designs

He finds it easier to befriend robots as they're not likely to stab you in the back like people on helios and won't suddenly leave like Fiona and Sasha did. His ability to socialize has also taken a turn for the worst since becoming CEO and robots are less likely to judge

When designing his new arm he's made sure that it's easily detachable in case he needs to get it off quickly for... trauma reasons

One of Rhys' inspirations to grow a mustache was because all the other male CEOs have facial hair and he wanted to look the part

[bookscandlesnbts]

2024 Things I’m Looking Forward To

This is not as easy to compile a list for as it might seem. Because while I am excited about some things, I’m still deeply annoyed that BTS is gone (until we get Jin back this year and Hobi too). I miss Jikook terribly, but in the spirit of it being a new year and of me tending to look on the positive side of things, I’m making a list really for myself of things to look forward to this year. I encourage you to make your own or let me know in the comments or DMs if any of these resonate with you 😊

1. Jikook Travel Vlog- I’d be lying if I didn’t put this as my most excited thing for the whole year. Nothing I love more than being comfy cozy on my couch with some snacks, lighting my candles, and witnessing Jikook shenanigans

2. My trip to Tokyo and Seoul with my sister this summer. Crazy that this isn’t number 1, I know, but truthfully I am nervous. I’ve never flown abroad and for such a long flight I’m nervous. Not about the plane itself but for being in such a confined space with strangers for that long is not my jam. But it will be worth it, I’m sure. I’m also pretty bad with time changes and well, 14 hours is something I can’t imagine. But I’m really excited to see all the places that I’ve been watching on my tv screen for the past 3 years.

3. All the new music content we will get from the tannies this year. I love new music in general (I participate in a group that does new music friday where we listen to new music that comes out every Friday) and getting new music from my favorites while they are away is so amazing. I love sharing that joy with people.

4. Bit of a sidetrack away from things BTS related but I’m super super excited for an actually good live action remake 🤞🏻 of my favorite series of all time at such a pivotal age (12) during my childhood. The equivalent of HP for me is Avatar the Last Airbender and from the looks of the sneak peek trailers, I think it might be worth the hype and I’m ever cautiously the optimist. I’m so excited to enter back into a world that I love so much and characters that mean so much to me. Maybe I’ll be inspired to write some crossover fics 😂

5. The return of Jin and J-Hope will definitely be a grounding experience and a source of great comfort to get real time content again from Bangtan.

6. Any other merch or little surprises or communication from our boys (especially Jimin and Jungkook around here you know the deal) I especially need all the magazine covers and content of Jimin in his natural hair color, blond. He could rule the world.

That’s all I can think of off the top of my head, but it’s enough to keep me going. Fighting! 🫰🏻

[a41-i-finally-caved]

So, this is another OBX-centered ask. Just thought I'd put it out there in the first line, so you only read the following text, if and when you're in the mood for it.

I just wanted to say that the writers of the show are absolute and complete nincompoops (Yeah, I said it! And honestly, on top of everything else, it's just a plain dumb idea to kill off the most beloved character in your tv show, but that's not the point right now.)

The point is that reading your fanfics and scrolling through your tumblr, you seem to have so much love and excitement for the characters. I hope you keep your joy for writing in this fandom, and not just because I love to read it (because I do! obviously), but because nincompoops shouldn't have the power to take these things away.

F*** them.

PS. On a very personal note: Thank you for sharing your universes!

I know people who have struggled with childhood abuse. It's not something I've talked to them about a lot for a myriad of reasons, but reading some of your fics, have made me think about it a lot and encouraged me to have more honest and indepth conversations about these things than we have had earlier.

I really want to thank you for that.

I also love your fluffy bits, btw. Because it's really lovely worlds to be in, and that's really important too.

PPS. Supernatural, Teen Wolf - inspired OBX fic? That sounds so fun.

PPPS. This 'ask' is in dire need of some kind of question. I see that. I just don't know how to formulate one right now. You don't have to answer, either.

Thanks for the consideration anon! Very sweet of you <3

So leading up to the Part 2 drop, I had a friend warning me like 'no, this is from an actual source, they're gonna kill JJ' and I was just sitting there like 'okay I hear you but it'd be SO STUPID???' and did not believe them, the more fool me lmao. So I'm with you anon, absolute nincompoops

And of course <3 These fics were definitely written for me first and foremost, but posting 'em is for whoever decides to read. The idea that people I will never meet in my actual life can get something outta what I wrote? That is wild and amazing and also keeps me posting on a (somewhat) consistent schedule lol

Thank you for reaching out; I know say it a lot but I really do love hearing from you guys <3

I know you said this doesn't have a question but "Supernatural, Teen Wolf - inspired OBX fic?" looks like one to me! I've got a very small (sub 2000 words) doc for it that I will probably jump into again this weekend. Because God if it isn't the most ridiculous fun nonsense I've written in a while lmao

JJ is a werewolf who's not very good at the whole werewolf thing. Sure the books say he needs lots of physical contact from his pack, but since his dad's the only family he's got, that's off the table for obvious reasons.

Kiara's got a whole selkie thing going on with her parents locking away her seal skin. Mike and Anna were a forbidden love story so expect lots of extended Carrera family drama there

Pope will probably be the plot driver. He finds a diary from his ancestor: the great alchemist Denmark Tanny, which sends the kids on a wild quest to recreate his transmutation process, the key to wealth, health, and eternal life.

John B has some sort of luck manipulation going on, courtesy of his dad. He also may 1) die 2) come back different and 3) be hopelessly in love with his best friend (because I cannot help myself)

Sarah and Cleo will also be there, I just haven't solidified how yet lol Right now I only have the thinnest threads of plot or cohesion, but I'll see what I cook up :)

[rafecameronsmistress]

Sunday Morning at Tanny Hill

[description] Rafe Cameron & fem reader

[summary] as Rafe Cameron’s girlfriend you aren’t sure wether to laugh or to cry.. to stay or run.. to be scared or to fall more in love..

[cw + tw] 18+ CONTENT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - smut, swearing, angry male character, angst, fear, fem character used s3xu@lly, oral m receiving, rough oral, g_uns used

[authors note] this is my first time writing and posting smut - inspiration came from Outer Banks Season 3 (buzz cut Rafe) - would love feedback and i am open to requests!

Enjoy!

—————

waking up to the sound of birds and a slice of daylight peeking in through the curtains. i check the time 8:04am. i groan, it’s too early. im alone in bed, rafe must have gone to take a shower or grab some food. i roll over on my stomach in hopes of catching more sleep.

i smile big as memories from last nights party pour in. beer, shots, dancing, a few hundred people swarmed tanny hill last night. defintley one for the books and summer has just started.

the cameron family has vacated tanny hill, all but rafe. he and i have been dating for about a year and now tanny hill is ours and only ours, a real dream come true.

just as i’m about to fall back asleep i hear a loud bang and glass shattering. “FUCK” rafe screams at the top of his lungs i immediately sit up with my heart in my throat. i hate to admit that i’m scared of my own boyfriend. i throw on his t shirt that was draped over a chair and tip toe across the room.

“rafe? you okay?” i say very softly as i peer outside of the master bedroom afraid of what i might see. he’s leaning over the railing with his head in his hands rubbing back and forth furiously. “baby?” i call out in hopes to get him out of whatever trance he’s in. he shoots a look my way, his eyes are dark and cold. my heart skips a beat. fight, flight, or freeze. i freeze.

rafe stands up tall and starts laughing and slamming his fist on the railing “you know what’s funny y/n, it’s funny how i do everything for my fucking dad and he gives everything to sarah and treats ME like a fucking child. DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CHILD?” he yells practically spitting at me. this isn’t rhetorical, he seeks reassurance from me when he’s upset. “no baby, you’re not a child. you are an amazing man. sexy, smart, strong.. you’re rafe fucking cameron”

i wasn’t lying. even while terrified i can’t help but be turned on by him. he’s standing there shirtless and in his boxers, nothing else. he puts his hands on top of his head and turns toward me. his muscular arms flexed in all the right ways, his v line just peeking out of the top of his boxers, and the way the sun hits his abdomen through the giant windows.. god i fucking love this man. i can feel myself getting hot between the legs.

he throws his arms in the air “i dont know what to do anymore y/n i really don’t” he says while shaking his head, becoming increasingly more frustrated. “come lay down with me” i said as i hold my hand out praying he’ll take the bait. rafe let’s out a sigh, grabs my hand, and follows me back to bed. he sits down on the bed and i stand in front of him. he lays his head on my chest and i stroke the back of his neck lightly with my fingernails. it gives him goosebumps and he melts into my body. this continues in silence, i enjoy soothing him. his hands trail up the back of my thighs until they reach my bum and he squeezes before smacking my right side hard. he man handles both cheeks again then stands up. he towers over me. rafe is 6 foot 2 and i’m 5 foot. he’s now looking down at me and his eyes are filled with fire. rafe likes rough sex, rafe uses my body when he can’t process his emotions. i don’t mind, i just mentally prepare for what’s about to come.

he kisses my forehead “on your knees” he demands, i comply and drop down. “open your mouth” he seethes. i open as wide as i can and close my eyes preparing for his delicious erection to be shoved down my throat. instead i’m met with cold… hard… unfamiliarity… i open my eyes. rafe is holding his glock 19 in my mouth with no expression on his face. “do you love me?” he asks as he cocks his head to the side. i nod viciously, tears starting to form. confused as to what is going on but not wanting to upset him. i don’t budge, i don’t scream, i don’t take the gun from my mouth and run. “good, now show me how much you love me” he asserts as he replaces the pistol with his cock.

i take all of him into my throat and cradle his sack with my right hand, my left hand on the back of his thigh for support. the tears are flowing at this point out of fear and because i’m giving a blowjob like my life depends on it. i look up at him as i gag, his head is tilted back and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. his hand slithers onto the back of my head and he intertwines his fingers into my hair. he uses my head as leverage to get him off. “fuck” he grunts through gritted teeth “you’re such a good girl.” now both of his hands are on the back of my head as he thrusts himself deeper into my mouth. i drop my arms and allow him to use me. saliva, tears, and rafe cameron’s cum drip down the sides of my face and onto my chest. he slides his now satisfied dick out of my mouth and brings me to my feet lifting me by my chin. he wipes my bottom lip with his thumb and gives me a tap on the cheek. rafe pulls me into his chest hugging my head with his arms and places a kiss on the top of my head. “you always know what i need, thank you, i love you” he says with a deep breath. “i love you too baby” i reassure.

[corvidexoskeleton]

Fuck what the haters and critics say, the borderlands movie might not have been good in the traditional sense, it might not have been an accurate live-action retelling of canon events, but it did a lot of things right, and I honestly don't think it could have properly nailed it nearly as well if they had gone for a more somber, serious tone the way a lot of other live-action adaptions do

The casting decisions were all so fucking inspired. Kevin hart as roland? Genuinely an incredibly good choice, I don't care how many people get mad about him being short or "not accurate to roland's character", even though I fully believe he DID do roland's character justice, as someone who has personally played roland before. Jamie lee curtis and cate blanchett as older versions of tannis and lilith, respectively? Fucking god tier move, I dig it. FLORIAN "BIG NASTY" MUNTEANU AS KRIEG???? TRULY A MAN CAPABLE OF EMBODYING THE SPIRIT OF KRIEG. Not to mention how much heavy lifting Jack fucking black did as claptrap, a role which could very well make-or-break any piece of borderlands media, as we saw with bl3

The movie itself was cheesy and over the top and didn't take itself too seriously, which does more to stay true to the borderlands series than any gritty, edgy retelling ever could. Sure, maybe it could have benefited from some more time to refine it, the props and costumes kinda sucked, and it's quite funny that they *somehow* managed to depict the violence of borderlands, of all things, without a single drop of fake blood, but all in all I genuinely believe that it was about as good of a live-action adaptation as we're likely to get in the current state of the film industry

And I had fun watching it. Which is the most important thing here.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I'm so full. I'm so happy. This is everything that I wanted for the tannies. It's so amazing. Never mind its 144p and I'm still learning the lyrics. I had such a blast! Jimin was so cute. Yoongi was so funny and cute and sexy and awesome and just,,, just,,, JUST!!! Couldn't stop grinning while watching their wlive and burst out laughing as Yoongi ended it so abruptly. lol Love you, Yoongi. Love them. Who's doing it like them? Have you seen the Tiffany crowd? Have you seen the concert crowd?!!?

***

It’s a different sort of high being a fan of BTS, isn’t it?

It’s a different sort of joy seeing them be their remarkable, awe-inspiring and goofy selves. It’s so beautiful to see the love they so clearly have for each other. It feels a little too intimate sometimes, and in my experience, this is a feeling that’s unique to BTS. This group is very special. What they’ve got feels genuine because it is.

Jimin was vibing hard. Yoongi’s performance felt electric from start to finish. They spent time together, [*]riding to the venue and leaving afterwards. Its clear as day that Yoongi is happy Jimin is with him, and Jimin wears the respect and love for his hyung on his face. It’s just so easy with them.

And can I just mention Yoongi’s energy during tonight’s concert?

The way he attacked HUH?!

AGUST D???

Christ.

It’s like he gets stronger, wilder, every concert… lol, like I suspected, he’s already a bit too good at this. I’m gonna need him to calm down before the Cali dates. And now that we know we’re getting Tony Montana at a future date, I think we’re all going to really learn to pace ourselves. This could get crazy before long.

Because we’re only three days in and I’m already hanging on by a thread.

What he’s doing to me with these performances cannot be written on the internet.

He fucks me up so bad y’all.

Let me go on a short tangent here:

STD is an acronym that’s known in Korea to mean what you think it means. Everybody knows it. Language isn’t a barrier in this case. When people in Korea hear “STD”? They know what it’s referring to.

Now, what do you think about the way Yoongi introduced his alternate persona: AGUST D in 2016? The way he enunciates that phrase is sickening and intentional. The very mention of his name in the mouths of his detractors is a sickness they get from him fucking them. Or ‘fat dicking’ them, to quote Yoongi. And on that song he spits one of the sickest bars of his entire career. You’re guaranteed to be fucked just by hearing it. I mean just in his name there’s already triple entendres.

It’s mad.

Yoongi has a very peculiar energy. It’s very catlike, but also serpentine and there’s an undercurrent of barely restrained lunacy deep beneath the surface. Hobi is actually more crude than Yoongi in speech and flow, but Yoongi can be so cruel. And that quality, one he doesn’t shy from turning on himself too, coupled with his pragmatic and caustic delivery… lord. He sets himself apart from every other artist alive. Nobody in BTS cuts to the bullshit faster than Yoongi - he’s lived through the consequences of deluding yourself that you’re okay when you’re not. He’s a man who is constantly examining himself, checking his worst tendencies, but never compromising on what he truly believes.

Ugh.

Times like tonight, I look at BTS and feel so much calm. They are so competent, and I’m certain whatever they make, it will be very good. Yoongi has proven that so far with this tour. Yoongi’s D-DAY concert tour is easily the best solo concerts I’ve been to this decade, and I haven’t even attended one yet. But it’s easily the best one. Easily. And I’ve been to a lot (actually been to them), especially in the last 12 months.

That crowd Jimin pulled for the Tiffany’s event is no joke. We’re now at the point where Western celerities know they’re not the main popularity driver if Jimin is also involved. They know the crowds are there for Jimin. And when he eventually showed up, he looked magnificent. Elegant. Polished. Understated. One of these days I want to see Jimin bejewelled and dressed in all primary colours - something more vibrant and queer. But that Tiffany’s event went for traditional and understated and that’s okay. It worked, because Jimin can work anything.

**

Edit [*]: Typo correction. Should include "after", meaning after arriving at and leaving the concert, Yoongi and Jimin spent time together. They arrived separately and left together, spent time together also before and after.

[daffyjjk]

Just finished watching this amazing interview of tannies and I’m genuinely in awe of the depth Namjoon and Hobi brought to their words. Their reflections were like a journey into the soul, offering profound perspectives that resonate deeply. This video is a gem for anyone seeking thought-provoking insights and beautifully articulated thoughts.

also Koo’s words struck a deep chord within. His mention of being with ‘venom and spirit,’ yet bravely digesting everything despite the discomfort, resonates profoundly. Koo, your resilience is truly admirable. You’re an absolute inspiration, showing incredible strength in facing challenges.

As I eagerly anticipate the upcoming BTS documentary, reflecting on snippets like the above video only amplifies my excitement. Witnessing their journey over the past 10 years, from profound introspection to artistic growth, is truly awe-inspiring. BTS continues to pave the way not just in music but in resilience, wisdom, and relentless dedication. 🥺💜 Here’s to embracing their remarkable journey and eagerly anticipating the deeper insights this documentary will bring!

[flickynightdarkness]

Info about my DC OCs

Benjamin Williams

Ally of Batman

Good

Night Edwards

Ally of Nightwing

Good

Tootsie Jingles

Aids Joker (originally they were gonna be adopted by him)

Inspired by Fizzarolli from Helluva Boss

Clowncore

Neo demon

Evil

Jamie Quinzel

Adopted daughter of Harley Quinn

Younger cousin of Blade Quinzel

Evil

Blossom Isley

Adopted daughter of Poison Ivy

Friends with Jamie Quinzel

Younger sister of Vince Isley

Evil

Ray Nygma

Adopted son of The Riddler

Friends with Trace Dent

Evil

Trace Dent

Adopted daughter of Two Face

Looks exactly like him but she hates when anyone says it to her

Friends with Ray Nygma, Meredith Miranda and Evelyn Wesker

Evil

Kraig Jones

Adopted son of Killer Croc

Very aggressive

Has anger issues, tends to get angered easily

Evil

Shows a soft side to his allies, especially Fangs Langstrom

Allies with Lucian, Kaleb and Fangs

Talon Cobblepot

Adopted son of Penguin

Bird lover

Younger brother of Feather Cobblepot

Evil

Katherine Kyle-Angela

Adopted daughter of Catwoman

Cat lover

Youngest child of Mr Angela and Mrs Angela (formerly)

Younger sister of Katelyn Kyle

Neutral

Katelyn Kyle-Angela

Adopted daughter of Catwoman

Oldest child of Mr Angela and Mrs Angela (formerly)

Older sister of Katherine Kyle

Cat lover

Neutral

Toffee Karlo

Created by Clayface

Clay demon

Evil

Can morph her limbs but unable to shapeshift into others

Berg Fries

Oldest child of Mr Freeze and Nora Fries

Older brother of Snow Fries

Cousin of North

His body was frostbitten when he was sprayed liquid nitrogen

His goggles were given by Mr Freeze to use

Evil

Evelyn "Evie" Wesker

Evil

Adopted daughter of Ventriloquist

Cousin of Michele and Michelle

She is aided along with her ventriloquist dummy Stitcher. The two share a positive to eachother

Stitcher

Ventriloquist dummy

Created by Evie's cousin Michele

Evil

He is shown to have a soft side to Evie

Hallow Crane

Evil

Youngest adopted child of Scarecrow

Younger brother of Lauren and Laurent

Cousin of Craven and Lunar

Is a living scarecrow but was a child at first (he originally was gonna be a human in a scarecrow costume

Friends with Meredith, Echo and Spook

Shade Miranda

Neutral but mostly on the evil

Ally of Scarecrow

Foster mother of Meredith and Myers

Shows respect for the Wayne family but only does it if Scarecrow isn't around with her

Acts as a mentor to Hallow's studies on fear

Wife of Nathaniel

Meredith Miranda

Foster daughter of Shade and Nathaniel

Sister of Myers

Friends with Hallow, Evelyn, Trace, Flakes, Echo and Spook

Evil

Refers to Scarecrow as 'Dr. Crane'

Scotch Tetch

Youngest adopted son of Mad Hatter

Younger brother of Bowie Tetch

Evil

Kaleb Langstrom

Oldest child of Man-Bat and She-Bat

Older brother of Fangs Langstrom

Evil

Became a bat after he had the same serum his father had

Fangs Langstrom

Youngest child of Man-Bat and She-Bat

Younger sister of Kaleb

Neutral but mostly on the evil

Provided as an emotional support companion for Kraig Jones' anger issues

Feather Cobblepot

Adopted daughter of Penguin

Older sister of Talon

Mean towards anyone except her younger brother Talon(she cares for him) and her adopted dad(she is loyal to)

Evil

Coona Walker

Adopted by Killer Moth

Moth

Evil

Torch Lynns

Adopted son of Firefly

Twin brother of Ember

Evil

Spook

"Experiment" of Scarecrow (they were originally was made to be his creation)

Living scarecrow

Mostly hides in his hat

Evil

Friends with Hallow and Meredith

Echo

Evil

Allies with Hallow, Meredith, Spook and Flakes

Adopted by Scream Queen

Tanny

Trans MTF

Adopted by Mrs Manface and Babyface

Evil

Leader Scorch

Inspired by Father from Kids Next Door

Runs an academy for young rogues

Evil

Harrison, Carrie and Misty

Inspired by the Delightful Children From Down The Lane from Kids Next Door

They speak by unison

Claimed by Leader Scorch as his creations

Evil

Betty The Blob Caretaker

Takes care thousands of blob creatures

Female

Good

Lucian Dorrance

Adopted son of Bane

Wears a mask on his face to hide his scars

Speaks in a thick Spanish accent

Evil

Metro

Young ally of Superman

Good

Volt

Young ally of The Flash

Good

Emerald

Young ally of Green Lantern

Good

Blank

Young ally of Question

Good

Bullet

Adopted by Deathstroke

Evil

Allies with Torch and Ember

Topher

Aids Deacon Blackfire

Possesses demon transformation by his rage

Evil

Swirl

Aids Professor Pyg

Italian-American

Evil

Cheryl

Topher's ally/servant

Obeys to what Topher says to her

Neutral but mostly on the evil

Dust Edwards

He is shown to not get along with Hallow, the two would argue on who is a better friend to Meredith

Evil

Friends with Meredith

Colton Snart

Adopted by Captain Cold

Evil

Friends with Berg, Snow and Toffee

Scorch

Aids Heatwave

Evil

Cloudy

Aids Weather Wizard

Really calm

Evil

Has an ability involving their emotions being the weather; sunny - happy, rain - sad and thunder - angry

Stormer

Aids Weather Wizard

Chaotic

Evil

Ability to unleash thunderstorms

[mak3itr7ght]

Pair: Kim Taehyung x fem! Reader

Author's note : I was inspired by "Blue"'s MV~ it was such a vibe and I hope you'll enjoy this small one shot!!🩵

*Message received*

Winter bear ♡: "Shit, Y/n, she cheated on me.."

Winter bear ♡: "I can't do this anymore.."

Y/n felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of those messages. Tae was his best friend, but obviously she had HUGE feelings for him, so reading those messages, made her mood split in two, in a side, she was happy, she felt hope, she felt like she had a chance with him, the other one was a mess, she was scared, of what he was capable to do. She felt guilty for the happiness she was feeling. After a minute of reflection she quickly grabbed her phone and called him. one ring, two rings, three rings..no answers. Y/n was about to faint at the thoughts of something melodramatic was about to happen when finally she heard that voice, that low, husky voice adorned by that veil of sadness and disappointment, that voice still seemed like a love song to her.

'Taehyung!'

Y/n yelled at the phone, after leaving her trance state. She was WORRIED. She knew him well, and she knew that the perfect word to describe that man was UNPREDICTABLE.

'Y/n... I can't-'

Tae's voice was getting muffled, he was about to cry, Y/n knew it for sure.

'Where are you?!'

Y/n could easily hear the wind on the other side of the call along with some car noises. He was driving. He was silent but Y/n was able to hear is breathe. She was imagining him, driving his car, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the open window of the car. She was imagining his long blonde hair being messed up by the wind, which was way more stronger since he was surely accelerating, giving two fucks about the driving rules. There was silence in that call, it seemed lasting an eternity, like they were in a limbo, when suddenly some sobs broke those armoniuos silence.

'Taehyung please.. let's meet at the park. Wait me here. I know you're listening. Be strong until then'

The call ended. She was trusting Tae, he was the only one in which she had faith in. She looked from the other side of her living room, there was a little pillow on which there were a small black furball, Yeontan, Taehyung's puppy. He told her that the doggy had to stay with her for a while because he had some stuff to do and couldn't be able to take care of him and she obviously caught the opportunity, she loved Tannie, Tannie loved her. The little beastie looked up at her, his little ears pointed up and his lively eyes were staring at her, like he knew that something wrong happened.

"Let's go Tannie. TaeTae needs us"

Y/n jumped off the coach, Tannie did the same. She quickly grabbed the leash of the doggy and the two left the apartment, heading to the park which was luckily close to Y/n's place. In the hurry, she went outside only wearing her "home clothing" meaning a cream colored, oversize, sweater, grey sweatpants and her furry slippers. It was a day of november, it was cloudy, the world seemed black and white in some way. Y/n and Tannie reached the park looking for Taehyung. When she spotted him, he was sitting on the swing. He was wearing a black, fancy, leather jacket, there were some studs on the sleeves of it, yeah that was so him, along with black skinny pants, leather boots and a white tee underneath the jacket. Y/n stayed still for a moment, admiring him from afar, like she was admiring a paint, her favorite one. Tannie was getting agitated to jump on his beloved friend more like a brother to him, so Y/n just loose the leash and let the little one sprint towards Tae. Once the boy saw the puppy, he felt like a sort of relief in his soul. He turned behind, standing up from the swing and his eyes met with Y/n's. His eyes where still teary, a bit red but not too much, they were shining because of the tears. Y/n approached him trying to show him a warm smile. She couldn't do more, but express him all the love she was able to give him in that moment. They looked at each other for few seconds when suddenly Tae sprints across Y/n and hugs her tightly. He was starting to sob again, and Y/n felt like someone just stabbed her in the heart. He was so energetic, so lively and now that bitch made him feel all this horrible feelings. He didn't deserve that. Y/N couldn't help but hug him back with the same strength. She closes her eyes feeling some tears slinding down her cheeks, it was like, through that hug, he has been able to transmit her all his frustration. She caressed his hair with an hand, his back with the other, letting him rest his head on her shoulder.

'That's okay'

Those were the only words she was able to say. Suddenly that moment was interrupted by Tannie's whining. Tae did a step back and looked down at the beastie. He smiled.

'you know what.. He never liked her'

His words made Y/n chuckle softly. Tae looked back at her, his gaze was more intense.

'But he loved you from the very beginning'

He said with a more intimate tone, those words made her felt some chills along her spine. She put on an awkward smile.

He just looked at her, his eyes focused first on her left eye, then on her lips, then on her right eye. Then he looked away, regretting what he was thinking, after all that happened. Y/n got what he was doing.

'Tae, listen, she didn't deserve you'

Tae looked down for a bit then his eyes met hers again. She cupped his face with her hands, caressing his cheeks with both her thumbs. She rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes. He did the same.

'If you will let me, I'll take care of you'

She added, still remaining in that position. Tae was the first one to open his eyes and heading back for few centimeters, still looking at her.

'Please'

He said. He needed her in that moment, or maybe he just realized that her true lover has always been there, beside him and he realized that just then, who knows.

She leaned towards him again, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead, then on the tip of his nose and...finally, on his sweet, soft lips. He kissed her back, realizing more and more that his heart already knew that she was the one.

After few seconds they broke the kiss looking at each other and smiling. Tannie then made them jump, starting barking and wagging his tail. He was happy too.

Tae took Y/n's hand, stroking it with his thumb.

'Shall we go home?'

'I think so'

Tannie added his opinion with a single bark. After that the three went back home, at Y/n's place, getting ready to spend a night full of cuddles.

[armynoonas]

Week 36

September 02

Megan Thee Stallion on Twitter - NEVA PLAY

Are You Sure?! SAPPORO ID

Visit Seoul on Twitter - w/Jin

SIMINVEST on Twitter - w/Tae

JUNG KOOK: I AM STILL - Sneak Peek

Joon on Instagram - stories

BTS on Instagram - story, I AM STILL

JUNG KOOK: I AM STILL - Preview 1 - Seven

September 03

Joon on Instagram - RM: Right People, Wrong Place

World Premiere of <RM: Right People, Wrong Place> at the 29th Busan International Film Festival

BTS on Instagram - stories, RM: RPWP & Run Jin

BTS on Twitter - Run Jin photo

[Run Jin] EP.4 | A Dangerous Invitation from Jin 1

Dong Hyun Kim on Instagram - Run Jin

(Stylist) Kim Youngjin on Instagram: Part 1, Part 2- Jin x Gucci

Are You Sure?! - Season Poster (Winter ver.)☃️

JUNG KOOK: I AM STILL - Special Posters

RM: Right People, Wrong Place - Special Trailer

September 04

rpwprpwprpwp on Instagram - RPWP BIFF screening

rprwrpwprpwp on Instagram - stories RPWP BIFF screening

Joon on Instagram - RPWP reel

Joon on Instagram - story RPWP reel

JUNG KOOK: I AM STILL - Special Photos

JIMIN Exhibition The Truth Untold

Sofia Carson on Twitter - Slow Dance 1 billion

BTS on Instagram - stories, I AM STILL, The Truth Untold

September 05

VisitSeoul TV - Episode 2. INSPIRE - feat. Jin

September 06

Neva Play (feat.RM) - Release

Megan thee Stallion on Twitter - NEVA PLAY

Megan Thee Stallion - Neva Play (feat. RM) [Official Video]

Joon on Instagram - stories NEVA PLAY

JUNG KOOK: I AM STILL - Official Photo 2

September 07

Joon on Instagram - stories, NEVA PLAY

Hobi on Instagram - story, NEVA PLAY

September 08

Tae on Weverse - Tannie bday

Tae on Weverse - answering comments

Tae on KakaoTalk GC

Bryan Lee O’Malley on Instagram - NEVA PLAY

[kitsumidori]

Been replaying Pre-Sequal for the past few days (along with Pikmin 4) and decided to do post-BL3 refs for the Pre-Sequal vault hunters, or at least the ones still alive (yes Aurelia is still alive)

Also unrelated, I still need a name for this au. I'm thinking about calling it Siren's Songs but I'm still debating on that.

Athena

Her and Sprigs have been able to live well financially so Athena doesn't do as many odd jobs, but still does the occasional bounty. (better than selling kebobs)

She also works alongside Sprigs at her black market. (mainly to go after people who tried to scam them)

Claptrap

Starting to become worse for where, a lot of his new parts for repairs were from old Claptraps units.

Along with that he's starting to rust in some areas. (nothing but a little paint and some stickers would do the trick)

Has been reunited with his stair climbing wheel and became even more of an annoying menace.

Still refers to himself as General Claptrap.

Timothy

Still doesn't want to do anything involving that casino (or Jack in general) but Moxxi did offer him to work at her bar in Sanctuary lll.

Not as cowardly as before (like because of Jack's DNA) but still kinda pathetic.

(I kinda had fun with this design. Like I was trying to make him look like Jack's doppelganger but not Jack at the same time)

Him and Moxxi are still a thing. It was complicated at first but had gotten better once he started to not look like Jack.

Was finally able to get that bomb disarmed and removed. (thanks to Tannis and Zed)

Aurelia

What Borderlands 3 did to Aurelia should be a crime!!!!!! Like why?!?!?!?!?!?!

Acted as a spy for the Crimson Raiders so she could get intel from the C.O.V.

Troy still has a thing for her, but she's not interested and is creeped out by it. (it's gotten to the point where she straight up told him that she's a lesbian, not sugar coating what's so ever)

After the events of Pre-Sequal, Aurelia doesn't find hunting animals near extinction as fun as it used to be.

Her and Alistair's relationship is........ complicated, but they are starting to tolerate each other, so there's that.......

Still kind of a bitch, but it's mostly for show. (I mean in pre-sequal she says she's evil but even she has standards)

Has suffered frostbite on both fingers and toes, likely due to cryo usage.

Her design (especially the frostbite detail) were inspired by @wainwrightjakobshammerlock post-BL3 Aurelia design.

[elfcollector]

I know you loved being asked about your characters, so who are your DA characters who aren't on the OC page? Aside from Solene.

oh i love you anon. more than there are words for. im just gonna do the da ones for the sake of my sanity

ok so i am gonna take about solene briefly anyway even tho u said aside from solene. very orlesian, loves and adores orlais, thinks fereldan is smelly but is more loyal to the wardens than much else so when they need someone to go take over fereldan's wardens and she's put forward, she accepts the invite. came from a very poor family and watched her father abuse her mother and knew she had nothing to look forward to except marrying a man who'd do the same to her — so when the magic came and she was spirited away to be safe, clothed and fed well, freed of the responsibility of ever marrying, and given extensive chances to study, she loved it. she was a perfect fit for the circle, and had a genuinely positive experience. she doesn't agree intellectually with caging people based on an accident of their birth, but she's got no personal beef and basically considers it a necessary evil. it isn't until she becomes close friends with anders that she begins rethinking that stance. comes to really love fereldan, and the fact that she surreptitiously marries nate is only 30% of why. very pretty, feminine, loves fashion and is always wearing at least a little makeup. oh, also, she knows clarel and has beef with her lmao

the warden that precedes solene, who dies and necessitates an orlesian warden — his name is emmett cousland. he's sort of spoiled; used to getting what he wants, to being the envy of everyone, etc. irresponsible, hedonistic...bit of a bastard. but after becoming the warden he falls for and just adores morrigan more than there are words for, and she combined with his other friends inspires him to actually take his responsibilities to others as a noble seriously and care about more than his own fun. it's this growth that inspires him to sacrifice himself; he performed the dark ritual with morrigan but, the next day, realizes that if morrigan has this old god baby...he knows morrigan. he knows she'll take such good care of the kid. he knows she'll be a wonderful mom, he's sure of that long before morrigan is. but he doesn't want his child to deal with that suffering, and...morrigan worked so hard to free herself from flemeth. but this is just another errand flemeth sent her on, another way flemeth was using her, and he doesn't want that for his love. so he sacrificed himself to ensure that his child could have a normal life and that morrigan could finally be free of flemeth and being used by flemeth. i don't think morrigan ever fully forgives him. i have literally never played his game he purely exists in my head to faciliate to solene but i do love him and do WANT to play thru origins as him eventually, there's just. so many games in the world

i've got a rogue hawke named petra! power hunger trickster, rivalmances sebastian. i never got very far on her game, but she experiences suuuuch intense magic envy...she never felt like she could connect to her father, who she WORSHIPS, because she lacked magic...it caused a lot of resentment

let's see who else...i have two vashoth inkies. one of them is named tanen, but she also goes by tanny; she's very sweet and shy and feminine and sweet, but also strong enough in herself that she doesn't care about outside validation terribly much. josiemancer, they make me cry. her little sister became an abomination, a few years prior to the game, and tanen had to kill her — it haunts her badly, but she does what she can to survive and smile and move one. the epitome of "strength in softness." super feminine, loves tying ribbons to her horns

the other is named sataara, and i never got very far in her game, though i do adore her. she's an escaped saarebas, and was one between the ages of nine and twenty - three, which was fully horrible in the ways you'd expect — the other side of that horrible trauma, though, is that she knows that she's already experienced the worst life has to offer. everything else is just making the most of her life! she's impulsive and joyous and generally pretty content. i never settled on a romance for her...i was bopping between sera or cullen, i think. sera's self-explanatory, but i also think there's something fun and horrible abt the obvious angst inherent in dating cullen as a mage thats exemplified with a qunari, given that cullen has trauma with them, too. sataara vc i escaped the qun because they thought my magic was awful and fell in love with a blond man with magic problems. goddammit