#sometimes. i follow people. who don’t like bts

[door-insurance]

So I played Life is Strange 2 for the first time ever

I didn’t wanna play it for a long time not cause it didn’t have Chloe or max (tbh I got sick of their asses around BtS they’re not even my faves)

By that point I was in college and had lost interest in the whole franchise but also I was very apprehensive of white creatives writing racism with no input from the group they’re portraying, they don’t usually do a good job

Sometimes they make it cartoony, sometimes they trivialize it, sometimes they romanticize it

So years later adulthood kicked my ass and I came back crawling to this franchise for some comfort, I finished True colors annnnd I finally started 2 after hesitating annnnd

^sketched this while playing

SPOILERS

I actually liked it

I liked Sean, the drawing segment he does- he was such a likable main guy, deserved better honestly.

I also liked Daniel, he was very adorable and I never got it when people called him annoying like no shit the 9 year old is gonna act like a 9 year old- just don’t be a jerk to him, I know he can be frustrating but that’s what taking care of a kid is like

And lis had always been about realistic complex characters, y’all can’t handle a traumatized nine year?

I have two younger siblings and two nieces plus I’ve been a bratty younger sibling to two older sisters

Maybe I’m just used to it?? But honestly Daniel wasn’t that bad

The racism portrayal in the first few episodes was not all that cartoony and it actually felt real at times, like I can check for American news rn and find stories similar to what you see in episodes 1-3 (minus the telekinesis)

Although the gas station racist hick spouting trump slogans was a bit on the nose, it’s more of dialogue thing

Some people thought the gas station detainment was egregious but it can happen unfortunately, especially to vulnerable people in rural areas and by someone of a higher systematic advantage

One other thing I did not like was the love interests, I thought Finn and Cassidy were alright characters on their own but why do we need romance in this game where the protagonists are always on the run?

I don’t like to compare lis 1 to 2 but when it comes to the romance the former did a better job as it spent more time establishing it, plus max stayed in the same place for the majority of the game- but you know what? Sean doesn’t have to be in a relationship right? It can be a one off thing, that’s fine

Which brings me to my next point

How old are Cassidy and Finn?

Cause Sean is still 16 and no, being on the road didn’t mentally age him- he’s not “mature” for his age

He is still a kid

So for some reason Dontnod never really specified their ages but some articles described them as teens (they look 30 to me) and they can be around 18 right? Their lives are hard stress ages you- it happens, we can with live that, it’s just a two years difference

But teens or not

why did they animate a whole knocking the boots scene???

Of all the games in the series, the only one that gets a sex scene is the one with the much younger protagonist and his ambiguously aged older looking love interest and I think it’s only with Cassidy you get to do it in the tent

Alex Chen was robbed of a on screen booty call from a beanie wearing lesbian with a sexy radio voice or a buff ass Adonis of a man who was Smokey the bear’s regional manager or something

Anyways I’m gonna move on I’m uncomfortable lmao

*im not hating on people who ship Sean with either Finn or Cassidy, I’m not even tagging your ship names- im just stating my personal preferences on my blog

One last thing I did not like about LiS 2 and it was the one thing that kept me from playing it for years

That one scene from episode 4

So at this point Sean Diaz went through the following:

-lost his father, had to abandoned his loved ones, education and home

-was accused of killing a cop

-had to take care of his little brother on his own while on the run, the same brother with telekinesis and none of them know how to control it

-was harassed, beaten then detained by a racist white man

-had to take refuge in an abandoned cabin with little resources

-the dog that they adopted at the gas station eventually gets mauled

-the one time they found solace at their grandparents house they had to leave abruptly cause the police was hot on their trail

-on their way out they can potentially witness the neighbors kid that they befriended get hit by the police car that’s chasing them

-they find shelter at a nomad campground but oh no they get involved with drug trafficking cause they barely have any other options to make money (unfortunately this happens a lot IRL this isnt egregious)

-Sean now has to deal with the trafficking, making sure that Daniel doesn’t get into any trouble with his powers while fake ass giancarlo esposito is breathing down his neck

-and guess what happens next… Daniel gets robbed into pulling a heist on temu gus fring and it goes badly, Sean can potentially lose a love interest/friend in Finn

-Sean gets hurt, Daniel goes so mad that he blows the whole place up; a shard glass flies into Sean’s eye and he ends up losing it

- Sean wakes up from a coma and learns that his brother is missing and he’s about to be taken to jail

- the one thing that consistently brought him joy during this trip was his art and because of the missing eye he can’t even do it the same anymore cause it hurts now

- Sean has to escape the hospital with a hot wired car, little money and has to drive across two states just to get to his brother

-on the way he dreams of his father, he wants him back he wants his old life back but that’s not gonna happen so he has to move forward

Im not listing all this as examples of bad story telling, a lot of these are real life experiences of homeless people. im just painting a picture of the shit that Sean had went through so far

Cause right after the dream sequence, Dontnod didn’t think all that was enough no you had to see Sean get hate crimed by two lifetime movie, sitcom special of the week racists- be made to either sing or suffer a brutal beating

It added nothing to the plot, it didn’t need a choice system either- it’s a hate crime, you’re not asking Joyce for fucking pancakes or eggs n bacon at the whales diner or hosing down Lisa the fckin plant.

This to me went straight to trauma p*rn category, it’s wheelchair Chloe all over again

I hated it then in LiS 1 and I hated now in LiS 2, this is why I don’t dick ride Dontnod that often

They always had this tendency right before the end they single out a particular character and mentally whip them, they become the writing teams punching bag- they think we didn’t get it the first time that this character is going through it, they just hammer it in with the subtlety of a heart attack and I hate it

“Yeah but it’s there to show Sean’s resolve to find Daniel-“

HE ESCAPED FROM THE HOSPITAL AND THE FEDS, HE HOT WIRED A CAR TO DRIVE ACROSS TWO STATES

He’s starving, dehydrated, suffering from chronic pain

That’s enough

Let the character breathe

You ask why not a lot of people wanna play this game and I’m gonna tell you, as much I enjoyed it myself it’s not an easy game to play- it gets brutal, especially right around the end

I’m not against bleakness or extreme conflict, I’m into that but sometimes that doesn’t translate well to any gaming format- especially a choices matter game that’s meant to be replayed

Some people have asinine reasons not to play LiS 2 like it dealing with racism and those people suck, lis had always dealt with progressive themes like calling out objectification, cyberbullying and sl*tshaming

Racism shouldn’t be the exemption

but misuse of racial trauma and not knowing when it’s appropriate to invoke it is a huge turn off and hella triggering to a lot of non white players and I remember when LiS 2 dropped I’ve seen (mostly white) lis fans at the time proclaiming that not wanting to play it meant that you were racist

Like I said there were probably racists who didn’t wanna touch the games cause of the main characters skin but there were people like me who were apprehensive of the “Let’s go to the mosh pit Shaka brah” people handling racism

This is the same studio that had Ms Grant (one of the few black characters from LiS 1) claim that the white settlers peacefully shared the stolen land with the native Americans

I find that shit harder to believe than the time traveling powers

And they were doing alright in the first episodes they covered stuff like unconscious biases slipping through, dog whistles, polite racism from the grandparents segment, police brutality, racial profiling and being targeted/othered- some of these things I went through when I visited western countries

Then they did the bullshit I feared theyd do…

I really don’t blame myself for being hyper vigilant at the time and honestly I was going through a lot then, even if I wanted to I wouldn’t have touched LiS 2 cause it’s a very heavy tasking game to play

I know I kinda made it seem like I didn’t like this game but I did, its the best one in terms of the choice system

It had more weight to it, seeing Daniel internalizing what you say to him or how you act around him was so cool

Also what the second game has over the first one aside from the choices system is the ending selection- I never liked picking the endings for max, I wanted her to pick the ending or her coding/script to do that

Its definitely more fleshed out technically even though LiS 1 has a special place in my heart it’s always gonna be no. 1- but im also glad that I got to experience the 2nd game for the first time, I liked it

Personal lis ranking

1: Lis 1

2: Lis 2

3: True colors

Discount bin: BtS

My personal fave moments from LiS 2:

- beating up the racist bully and giving him a concussion

-mushroom (rip icon)

- victorias letter

-winning that that bear from that claw machine

-gorillaz song that was not feel good inc

-Brody pointing at a fucked up looking arcadia bay yelling “that’s the past!”- that was hilarious

-Sean paying tribute to Arcadia bay in his sketchbook (this fucking kid man, he’s so sweet he deserves the world- what did he do to make DONTNOD mad at him)

- the wolf animation and the story that plays before every chapter

-this was the worst hate crime in the whole game

[agust-dyke]

bisexualhobi is a solo btw

no offense but im not sure what to do with this tbh like. okay. and they r also my beloved mutual on my other blog

[sailoryooons]

Gods of the Dark | Two | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Dream god!Yoongi x f. human!reader

☾ Summary: Don’t ask for help in the dark. It’s an old tale you always heard whispered among the people of your village. But when you find yourself dragged kicking by the man you’re to marry, you have little choice but to beg for help long after the sun has set. The god who answers your pleas promises to save you, but every deal comes with a price. 

☾ Word Count: 21,443

☾ Genre: Fantasy, angst, strangers to lovers, smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Sexist and patriarchal society inspired by medieval europe, a lot of world building and discussion about theories/concept of dreams, discussions of morals and ethics, world building, angst, mentions/light depictions of an abusive family, discussions of gender roles and forced marriages, attempted murder via arson, sexual dream sequences, depictions of oral (f. receiving), exposed bodies (in a brothel), pining, townsfolk essentially bullying reader, intense nightmare sequences, light depictions of PTSD (including memories of almost drowning/being physically attacked), explicit language, idiots who are obviously into one another being idiots, recreational drinking, topics of desire, feelings of shame, depictions of anxiety and fear, slight voyeurism, attempted murder

☾ Published: December 2, 2023

☾ A/N: It's finally here! This chapter took so long to write and I want to apologize for how long it took. The creative process can be so difficult sometimes, and I have been having a very hard year, which reflects in my writing. Thank you for sticking with me - I really hope this chapter is okay. This originally wasn't going to be as slow of a burn as it is, but this is where the story took me naturally, so I hope that's okay with everyone. I am going to be adding an extra chapter to this now to tell the story the way I want, so we will have five total chapters to this. I am already working on chapter three, and my goal is to write just this series until the next three chapters are done! Note: The sections of italics are used to indicate dream sequences for this fic - the way I use these are very specific and with intent... that's the only hint I will give you.

A huge thank you to @here2bbtstrash for being my beta reader - I give them huge beta projects with very little time to do them, and this story would not be nearly as polished or tuned as it is now without them. Also thank you to everyone who has been so encouraging and patient with me - your kind words are not lost on me and I'm thankful for you all!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Eyes in the sky crying geysers How dare I have private desires

-

First is your mother’s screaming. It’s loud enough to make you clap your hands over your ears, wincing as she drops all of the things in her hands. Second is your father storming into the house like a hurricane, an axe clutched in his hand from cutting wood in the yard. When he sees you, he blanches and takes a few steps back, raising the axe. 

“Demon,” he whispers. He reaches for your mother and pulls her behind him. “You are a demon.” 

“No, I-”

Without a warning, your father launches the axe at you. You scream, arms going up to block your face, unable to dodge the attack. There’s a loud crack as the axe hits an invisible barrier. You feel your hand fly to your open mouth, staring at the axe that’s now hewn in two on the floor. 

Silence follows the destruction of the weapon. In that silence, it occurs to you that your father has attempted to kill you, and was only stopped by whatever protection Yoongi promised you. The realization is dizzying and you stumble away from your parents a little, bumping into the wall that separates the kitchen and the entryway. 

No one says anything at first. Your mother clings to your father, trembling violently. Her hair is greyer than you remember and it looks like the last few days haven’t been kind to her. But she has always been soft and weak.

It’s your father who no longer looks the same. Always such an imposing figure in your life, he looks aged. His face is wrinkled, his hair is grey. His presence is so much smaller than you remember, once full of rage and ferocity, now just a terrified man in a doorway. 

You cannot believe this is the man you’ve spent most of your life afraid of. Where once stood a great fear of yours now stands nothing more than a shadow of a man. Weak. Afraid. Vulnerable. 

“You can’t hurt me anymore,” you say in a voice much steadier than you feel. “You can’t marry me off, you can’t make me burn my books, and you can’t hurt me anymore.”

“What kind of demon are you?”

It occurs to you that you could tell him you’re not a demon. You’re just you, with a little added protection. But the realization that they are afraid of you wakes up something ugly inside of you. Something oily, that slithers, something wicked and sharp.

You don’t have to tell them you’re not a demon. You don’t have to tell them that you are. They have come to that conclusion themselves, and it has put them beneath you. Afraid of you. You’re more powerful than you’ve ever been in this home. 

So you let them think you are. “The kind that survived Nathaniel Laudermill beating me in the woods and trying to drown me.” 

Your father straightens. “That wasn’t supposed to happen! You weren’t supposed to run and he- he wasn’t supposed to hurt you.”

“Well, he did. And he paid for it, didn’t he?” 

When you say it, you have a sneaking suspicion that Nathaniel Laudermill is dead. When your father nods feebly at your question, the knowledge slides into place. You don’t feel bad. It almost horrifies you that you don’t, but you think of the burning in your lungs, his nails against your skin, the roaring of the water. 

You’re glad Nathaniel is dead.

“What do you want from us? Money? Our lives?”

“Nothing.” You realize it’s true, suddenly stricken with wondering why you came back at all. “I want you to go about your lives, and let me do what I will.” 

Pushing off the wall, you turn around and head out the front door. You feel their eyes on you as you go, but you don’t look back.

For now, you walk out into the woods. Crickets chirp happily, growing quiet as you walk by and starting once again when you’re a distance from them. Under the shade of the trees, it’s cold. The river isn’t flooded up into the woods anymore, but the ground is soft beneath your feet, mud giving way to your steps.

It feels different when you walk through the woods this time. They aren’t as vibrant. No Tiera is lurking in the boughs of the wisteria. There’s no lake with merfolk peering at you with large, alien eyes. A world that was once so full of life and peace feels unsaturated now. Devoid of color. 

A nasty feeling creeps up on you as you walk. You look for the creatures of the wood, hoping to see their bright colors and little lives. A snake slithers away from you, but it’s just that. A snake with normal scales, in a normal bush. A rabbit rushes by, quick as lightning, a blur of fur.

None of the birds have plumes of purple feathers. There’s no trilling song that sounds like dreams spun into notes, no smell of drifting sweetness on the wind. The air is damp and cold, and it smells like fresh earth and water. But there’s nothing about it that seems as vibrant as before.

By the river, the water rushes as fast as your thoughts. You weren’t sure what to expect when you came home, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t your parents thinking you were a demon, but that isn’t the worst part. 

The worst part is that only after two weeks, your world has lost its magic. It pales in comparison to Yoongi’s world or even your imagination. You stare at the water you used to think rushed with so much promise, the waxy leaves that used to contain so many shades of green. Now they’re just leaves and the river is just water. 

A tingle presses at your neck. You turn, expecting Yoongi to be looming behind you. There’s no one there, but the feeling of awareness doesn’t go away. Frowning, you lean against the tree and stare out into the woods unseeing. 

Clove and cinnamon hang in the air. You close your eyes, inhaling. The tingle at the back of your neck feels familiar. In your mind, you feel it like a phantom touch, sliding from your neck across your shoulder, dragging down the length of your arms until there is a soft twitch in your palm. 

It’s easy to imagine Yoongi this way. But when you open your eyes, Yoongi isn’t there. The feeling doesn’t go away. But you always have that feeling out here, the something of other. Your heart flutters at the thought of the god lurking somewhere that you can’t see. 

A silly thought. You brush it away, trying not to delude yourself into fantasies that Yoongi has any interest in you beyond your deal and beyond that night in the woods where you asked for help. Yoongi’s kindness is just that, and though you dream of him often, you know the difference between your dreams and reality. 

Instead of leaving to go back to the house, you sit down on the ground. Closing your eyes, you imagine a brighter world. A more magical world. It’s easier to do this than to contend with the fact that the woods you loved so dearly are not as you remember them. 

This, at least, is familiar. Sitting in the woods for hours and imagining worlds away from yours. Now, you imagine a specific world, made up of twilight and mountains in the distance. With a wonderful castle full of rooms saturated with candlelight and books you’re learning how to read.

When your stomach growls, you’re forced to stop your imagination and get up. You feel a bit better, knowing that you can at least remember what Yoongi’s dream realm looks like. Two weeks. You have two weeks until you can go back, and until then, Yoongi expects you to study. 

Back at the house, your parents stare in silence when you enter. You hardly look at them, walking to the kitchen as though they are merely ghosts harboring the same space as you. Your movements are methodical as you make yourself lunch. When you reach for the knife to cut cheese, you feel the pointed look of your parents. 

Part of you wants to turn around and scream at them to scare them. Another part of you has divorced the idea of them as your parents already. Yet you do nothing, biting a piece of cheese as you finish plating your meal and go to your room. They say nothing. 

Sitting on your bed, you eat your meal. The world is quiet for the most part, though the muted sound of nature hums beyond your closed window. You realize there is a desk in your room stacked with books, parchment, and inkwells. 

Heart racing, you get up from your bed and cross the room. You wipe your fingers on your shirt as you pick up a note written in Yoongi’s neat scrawl. You chew your lip as you look at the swirls and dips of letters on paper, immediately intimidated at the prospect of making sense of the writing. 

You take the note with you to the bed and begin to parse the letters and sentences apart. It takes all of your concentration, going over the sounds each letter makes in your head to build a word. It’s not fast work and it isn’t easy, but after a while, you work out the first sentence. 

Do not forget to practice every day. 

A smile makes your mouth twitch, both in pride that you managed to work out the sentence and at the thought of Yoongi hunched over his desk writing you a note.  

The second sentence is trickier. Afternoon light pours through your window as you spend another fifteen minutes sounding out the letters, quietly muttering them to yourself until you’ve got full words to build the sentence.

I will be watching, so you better practice as often as you can. 

You bite your lip. It sounds like a playful threat, quietly muttered in one of Yoongi’s teasing moments. You can almost hear the soft rasp of his voice and picture the smirk that would accompany his words. You shiver before reading the final sentence. 

Sleep well, and dream as often as you can.

The desk is a nice touch. You don’t remember seeing it this morning and you wonder how it got there. Remembering Yoongi’s magic is overwhelming. You’re still unsure what the limits of his power are, if there are any at all. 

Hunched over the papers, you begin to trace letters again. It feels good to have the quill in your hand. You’re careful not to spill the ink all over the paper like you do when you’re practicing in the library - you have a limited amount of parchment here, compared to Yoongi’s endless amounts in the House of Dreams. 

It does beg the question whether he’ll drop you off more magical paper if you run out, though. 

By the time your hand is cramping too much to practice more and your head hurts, it’s evening. Your parents are locked away in their room when you come out. You can hear the soft voice of your mother go silent when they hear you enter the kitchen for food before heading out to the porch.

Twilight skies stretch above you. Sitting on the edge of the porch, you watch the world fade from purple to black. The stars begin to dot the sky, the moon making her climb upward. You grin, feeling relieved that maybe not all of your world has lost its magic. 

Perhaps it’s just the light of day you’re no longer interested in. The night is far more mysterious and alluring, calling to you as you finish your last bite of dinner. You set your plate down on the porch and hop down, feeling the soft grass beneath your bare feet.

The last time you entered the woods in the dark, you were almost killed. That memory alone makes you pause at the edge of the woods. Your mouth dries a little bit and though the urge to step into the shadow of the night is strong, the memory of Nathaniel’s hands on your hair is stronger.

You turn around quickly and walk back to the house, picking up the plate along the way. It feels shameful to be afraid of the dark woods, a sour taste in your mouth as you lock yourself in your room and crawl onto the bed. 

Closing your eyes, you try not to think about Nathaniel. His yelling haunts you, the phantom grip of his fingers pulling your hair, the way your mouth filled with water- a hooting owl disturbs your spiraling thoughts. 

You open your eyes, straining your ears, only to find silence. Just as you begin to close your eyes again, you hear the hoot once more. Turning toward the window next to your bed, you sit up and pop the latch, casting open one of the shutters. 

Above the house, the moon is a glowing coin in the sky. Everything her light touches is awash in grey. Sticking your head out of the window, you sweep your gaze back and forth, trying to look for the sound of the hooting.

As though it senses your gaze, the owl hoots again. You see it this time. A great horned owl stares at you from its perch on top of a pile of chopped wood. Its eyes are burnished gold, like two burning beacons in the night. It’s a stunning owl, all browns and whites, feathers luminous under the sheen of the moon. It moves its head in a circle, opening and closing its beak.

Then, the owl surprises you. You flinch and sit backward on your haunches as it takes flight, great wings flapping as it flies to your window and lands on the ledge. You gasp in delight. The creature is far bigger up close, its ochre eyes warm and intelligent. 

The back of your neck tingles familiarly and you smile. 

“Are you supposed to watch over me?” The owl chirps, a much higher-pitched noise than the hoot. “Hmm. I see. Do you have a name?”

The owl bobs its head from side to side in an uncanny movement. Though you’re not sure, you think it means to tell you no. “Well, what if I give you one?” The owl chirps again. “What about… Moony?” 

Fluffing its feathers, the owl shifts back and forth and lets out a hiss. You giggle, covering your mouth as the bird settles, looking at you in a way that certainly feels haughty and bothered. “Alright. What about… Dream?” Another hiss and a bob no. “Okay, well you’re making this quite difficult. What about…”

A dozen names run through your mind. You think of the owl as Yoongi’s way to watch over you at night. It makes you feel warm and far less alone than you were before. It’s nice knowing that you have a protector, someone to warn Yoongi if you’re ever in danger. Or to steer you away from your bad thoughts.

“How about Guardian?” you offer. It blinks two large eyes before chirping and bobbing its head in a circle, pleased at the name. You grin and slowly reach your hand forward. “I like it. Guardian, then.” 

Gently, the owl leans forward and lets you brush its feathers. They are silky under your touch, each plume delicate and wonderful. You can’t help but smile, stroking the owl's chest until it shuffles back and forth and gives a short hoot.

“Go on,” you urge. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ll leave the window open?”

Guardian hoots in affirmation before shuffling its wings and flying off into the night. 

Laying in your back, you stare up through the open window, watching the stars go past. Slowly, you feel sleep pull at your edges, beckoning you to give in. You finally do, drifting asleep under the silver light of the moon and a blanket of stars. 

-

Yoongi sits in front of the fireplace in the library. You blink a few times, a little dazed. You don’t remember how you got here, but you know the smell of this library and you know that shadowy frame better than anything. It suddenly makes you ache to realize how much you miss it already. 

As if sensing your presence, Yoongi turns to look at you. He smirks, showing no sign of surprise at seeing you standing behind him. He gestures to the armchair next to him and you grin, quick to join him. 

Warmth leaps from the fireplace, the logs popping and crackling under the hungry, orange flames. Yoongi is dressed in a simple linen shirt and pants, his necklaces reflecting the burning light. He watches you sit down and fold your feet onto the chair. 

“Am I here? Or am I dreaming?” you ask. 

“Are both not possible?”

You think about it. “Well yes, I suppose they are. I’m dreaming but I can come here because I’m dreaming.”

“Clever girl.” Yoongi’s eyes dance as he looks you up and down. “How was your first day back?”

“Strange. I…” You chew on your lip, wrapping your arms around your legs. Suddenly, you feel more at home than you did earlier that day in the place you were raised. You think about the woods out behind your house, the alien way you felt among trees that should be familiar. “It feels as though the world doesn’t hold as much magic anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like here. It is so vibrant and beyond imagining that now that I’ve gone back… nothing compares.”

Yoongi hums. “I promise you that there is so much magic in your world. There is real magic in living that cannot be found among the imaginary.” 

You rest your chin on your knees and sigh heavily. “If only I could find it.” 

“You will.” 

Silence passes between you. It’s comfortable. You watch the dancing fire, the world fading away. Though you are acutely aware that Yoongi is staring at your side profile, you don’t squirm or feel anxiety. You simply feel peace, happy to be here. Happy to be with him.

That makes your stomach flutter. At least you’re not dreaming of him in ways you shouldn’t tonight. As soon as you think about it, you feel your cheeks heat up hotter than the flames from the fireplace. 

After a little while Yoongi sighs, drawing your attention back to him. “You should sleep.” 

“I thought I was.”

“Sort of. You’re more… dreamwalking right now. You’re not really resting.” 

“Do I have to stay here?” The question is small. You don’t meet his eyes when you ask, suddenly filled with shame that you can’t even last a day in the world you’ve known for over twenty years. “There’s nothing for me here.”

“There is. You just have to find it again.”

“I don’t know how.” 

Yoongi stands up. You look up at him and see that his expression is soft. Kind. Your heart speeds up, tongue heavy in your mouth as he slowly reaches out to you. His hand hesitates for a second, pauses in mid-air like he’s unsure, and then he touches your cheek lightly. “Trust me.” 

Before you can respond, Yoongi is walking away. The skin on your cheek tingles where his fingers were a moment before, a shiver racing up your spine. You lift your hands to touch your cheek where his fingers were moments ago. You can’t help but smile, fondness for him growing. Blooming. 

Leaning back in the chair, you close your eyes and settle into real sleep. 

-

Tap tap tap. 

You twitch your nose and roll your head to the side, sniffing. For a moment, it felt like something had been tapping your nose, almost waking you from sleep. You start to sink back into it, pulling your covers tighter as your thoughts drift… further…

Tap tap tap. 

You frown. Now you’re awake, your thoughts clawing their way to break the surface of sleep. When you finally collect yourself and register that you’re waking up, you open your eyes to reveal a face hovering inches from yours, so close that you cannot make out the features. 

A shriek rips through your room as you scramble away from the face, clutching your blanket. You slam into the wall near the window, heart hammering as you press yourself flat, trying to make yourself small. 

Taehyung falls backwards on his ass, covering his ears and giving you a ghastly expression, as though horrified to be screamed at in such a manner. Your hand clutches your chest as you realize it’s him sitting on your floor and him who had been inches from your face - tapping your nose. 

“What are you doing?” you holler at him, fisting your blankets. You suddenly feel sick, the adrenaline making your stomach turn and your head spin. Groaning, you lay on your side, squeezing your eyes shut. Colors coalesce behind your eyelids as you take deep breaths, hoping it will pass. “Are you insane?”

“Well, that is up for debate.” 

You open your eyes and glare at him. 

Taehyung sits with his long legs out in front of him, leaning back on his palms. His dark hair hangs in his eyes as he grins at you, giddy. He’s dressed in a flowing white shirt with laces at the front that he’s kept open, revealing a tanned chest. His shirt is tucked into brown trousers and you spot a small chain with a charm tied through one of his belt loops.

You think you recognize the charm from one of Yoongi’s necklaces. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Visiting, obviously.”

“You can just… visit?” 

“I do what I want.” 

As the adrenaline rush fades, you slowly sit up, glaring at the man on your floor. “I doubt that. How did you get in here, anyway?” 

“Your window is open.” 

The window in question is still wide open from last night, only now, morning light streams through. The air is cool and smells of rain, the wind rushing through the trees and making them bend and dance under its guidance. A robin flits from bough to bough, singing. 

“So you came through the window?” 

“No, I came through the front door. No one else is home.” 

“Then why did you say you came through the window?”

“I didn’t. I said the window was open.” Taehyung gives you a white, square grin. You clench your teeth and resist the urge to throw a pillow at him. Though you’re pleased to see him, you’re equally as vexed by his teasing. “Anyway, I want you to show me around.”

“Show you around what?” 

He gets up from the floor, clapping his hands together to get rid of the dirt and dust before doing the same to his pants. He shrugs, giving you a cheery smile. “I don’t know. Anything. Everything. I want to see what your life here was like.” 

“It wasn’t very good.”

“That’s okay. I want to see it anyway.” 

Slowly, you get out of bed. He makes room for you, walking over toward the desk where your writing practice sheets are. He flips through them, examining your work as you eye him, stretching. Your joints pop and you groan, eyes fluttering at the release of tension. 

“Why?” you ask. He looks up at you, brows raised in a question. “Why do you want to see?”

Taehyung contemplates his answer. He taps one long finger on top of your tracing. “You’re getting better.” He leans against the desk and crosses his arms, regarding you steadily. “I’ll make you a deal. Show me about your life here. Teach me about you. And I’ll tell you about me.” 

That sparks your interest. You know so little about Taehyung, even in the two weeks that you’ve lived in the House of Dreams. He is a charming mystery, someone who speaks in riddles and likes to goad you and talk about so much that you realize he talks about nothing at all. At least, not anything substantial. 

For the amount of things you know about Taehyung, like how he enjoys cinnamon in his tea or that his favorite color is green like the bottom of the lake, or how his favorite snacks are honey cakes or that music makes him cry, you also know… nothing about him. Where he comes from. Who he was before he was Yoongi’s companion in a big, lonely castle. 

Sighing, you walk up to him and extend your arm. “Deal.”

Taehyung’s hand is warm and tingles when you shake it. He grins at you, happier than ever before he drops your hand and gestures at your clothes. “Well go on,” he says. “Change out of your nighties. Unless of course, you’d like to stay in them.”

“Get out of my room and I will!”

He raises his brows. “Don’t want me to watch? How boring.” 

You don’t take his teasing to heart. You’ve already adapted to Taehyung’s jesting and prodding, learning that it’s a key part to the way that he shows his affections. For the first few days, you’d thought perhaps he didn’t like you much, but after seeing him rib Yoongi for two hours straight in the library, you realized it was good that he was teasing you.

You open the small trunk of clothes and slide on pants and a loose shirt. When you enter the main house, you find Taehyung standing on the porch with his arms crossed over his chest, looking into the woods with a frown. Tucking in your shirt, you step out onto the porch, the wood creaking underneath your weight. 

“What is it?” you ask when Taehyung doesn’t turn to greet you. His eyes are dark and there’s an expression on his face that makes you nervous. “Is there something out there?”

Instead of answering directly, he asks, “Is that where Yoongi found you?” 

Oh. Oh. Taehyung is looking at the woods where you ran off the night that your parents tried to make you marry Nathaniel. You nod and hum, trying not to think much about it as you finish tucking in the shirt and adjusting the material. 

“There’s a bad energy there,” Taehyung observes. He turns away from the woods finally and drops his hands at his side. “You should stay away from that place moving forward.”

“I didn’t exactly go in there on purpose.”

“I know.” Something flashes in his eyes. “Best not to do it again, if you can help it. You can go into the woods, just not there.” 

“Okay…” 

You wait for Taehyung to elaborate, but he doesn’t. A chill settles over your skin, the wind picking up to rustle the trees. He shrugs and grins, the dark expression gone in a flash as he gestures for you to enter back through the house and leave by way of the front door. 

Taheyung follows you, a bounce to his step as he hurries to walk next to you. You say nothing as you lead him out of the yard and toward the main road by your home that leads into town, your stomach fluttering with nervousness as you go. 

If Taehyung is confused as to why you’re not starting the story of your life at home, he doesn’t let on. He tucks his hands into his pockets and walks next to you, his feet crunching the gravel beneath his boots and the wind lifting his hair.

Studying Taehyung’s side profile, you think he looks like something from a dream. He has the kind of beauty that seems purposeful and handcrafted, each one of his features carefully designed to be the wonderful, glowing being that he is. 

You don’t know what he is, really. But you’ve made a deal and you have to deliver on your end first. 

“We live a bit away from town,” you say eventually. “My father inherited the house after his father, who was a very talented wood carver. He used to cut the trees here himself and decide which tree was perfect for what project, which is why we live almost thirty minutes from town.” 

“A wood carver is a nice talent to have.”

You nod. “He was very good. It made a good income. My father had no talent for it, though, and opened up a store instead. He sold my grandfather’s wares and then eventually added items from other folks in town, including my mother's clothes. She’s a seamstress.” 

“You were wearing a dress the night Yoongi brought you home.”

Home. Taehyung says it so easily, like he’s already accepted that the House of Dreams is yours as much as it’s his. A warm feeling blooms through you, and you look up at Taehyung and smile at him despite the looming subject of the doomed wedding dress. He returns your smile just as broadly, even if he doesn’t know the reason for your sudden turn of happiness. 

“Yeah. That was one she made,” you sigh, turning back to the road. “A wedding dress.” 

“It was beautiful, but I did burn it in the fire.” You look at him with your brows raised and he gives you a sheepish shrug. “You were assaulted in that dress. We wanted nothing to do with it.”

“I’m glad that you did. I never want to remember that night again.”

“Good. Memories have a way of haunting us, even when we don’t know it.” 

Taehyung’s tone is ominous. Instead of asking him what he means, you let his weighted silence fall around you, propelling the both of you toward the town. 

As you get closer, houses and other roads begin to pop up. You see the pathways leading up to the homes of your neighbors, pointing out each one to Taehyung along with filling him in on summaries of their family histories and gossip. He listens with a conspiratorial smirk, gasping and asking you scandalous questions as you whisper rumors you’ve long heard from eavesdropping on your parents. 

Gossiping with Taehyung is nice. You feel lighter than you had the day before, nearly skipping as you near the town proper. You start passing people on the road. Normally, you’d greet the ones you know. Now, you hear gasps as people flinch when they see you, making signs with their hands to ward off evil. 

You blink in surprise, glancing at Taehyung for his reaction. He frowns when he sees the second group of people do it. By the third, he pulls a snarling face at them, making a child cry. You jam your finger in his ribs and he hisses in pain, shoving lightly back.

“What?” he demands. “You’re not evil. That sign doesn’t do anything, either. If one of the more malevolent deities wanted to snatch them, they would.”

“Really?”

Taehyung rubs his ribs where you poked him. You pass the bakery owned by the Yen family, heavenly smells wafting out the door. “Of course they would,” he huffs. “Most deities aren’t bound by the rules and logic the mortals try to make to create a sense of safety from them. Many can simply do what they want.”

“Then why don’t they?”

“Because of Eternals, like Yoongi. The gods who are always here, never changing. That’s why they’re called Eternals.” 

“I see. There’s seven of them, right?” Taehyung hums the affirmative. As you pass a music shop, Taehyung slows. His hands are linked behind his back as he eyes the instruments through the window and gestures at them. You nod and follow him indoors, the bell on the door above chiming. “So other deities are afraid of them?”

“Of course they are,” Taehyung muses. He stops to admire a mandolin. “Yoongi, for example, is a being that creates dreams themselves. He manipulates reality. He can create things on a whim. He’s almost as powerful as life.”

“Really?”

“What are dreams if not creation? The difference isn’t all that big, though it drives Seokjin mad to admit it.”

“Who?”

Taehyung plucks the string of another instrument. You don’t know what it is, but the note is sharp, making you cringe. “Life, of course.”

“You know Life? What are you?”

He glances at you sidelong. “We’re supposed to learn about you first. I’m doing a lot of talking.”

“Not like it’s hard to get you going,” you mutter. 

Taeyung shoots you a scowl, but is interrupted by the shop owner coming around the corner. He’s a man in his late thirties, greeting Taehyung politely and wiping his hands on his trousers. He asks Taehyung if he’s looking for anything and just as Taehyung leans out of the way to reveal you standing behind him, the shop owner’s eyes go to you and he gasps, stumbling backward. 

“You’re supposed to be dead,” he whispers, his back bumping into a shelf of items. You feel a shiver slip down your spine as you stare at him, arms tingling. He makes the symbol to ward off evil, the whites of his eyes wild. “Evil. Evil creature, you are a demon. You do not-”

“Another word,” Taehyung cuts in, his voice dark in a tone you’ve never heard. “And I’ll show you what evil is, sir.” 

“G-god of Light spare me.”

“Your God of Light won’t answer.” Taehyung spins on his heel, facing you. His expression is thunder, his gaze dark and eyes wild as he hisses, “Speak their name all you wish. It's not daytime in here, sir.” 

For the two weeks you’ve known Taehyung, you’ve never seen him like this. The room feels oppressive and dark, and you swear the lights have dimmed, shadows pressing up against the wall as Taehyung strides forward and passes you, taking your arm firmly in his hand.

Taehyung escorts you out of the store, walking swiftly. When you hit daylight, the oppressive dark sheds itself immediately. Taehyung’s presence dims with the sun beating down on him and turning his skin copper, black hair shining almost blue in the light.

He lets go of your arm and shoots you a troubled gaze. “Don’t listen to him,” he grunts. “You’re not a demon, nor are you evil.”

“My parents called me the same thing.” He scowls and begins pacing. To keep him moving, you start walking toward the other side of town where the old cemetery and abandoned church is. You don’t know why you go there, but you’re drawn to it. “They called me a demon.” 

“Demons are much nastier. You might be annoying, but certainly not a demon.”

You scowl and he shrugs. “I didn’t realize everyone here thought I died. I thought I would come back and it would be…”

“Normal?” You shrug a shoulder. 

The houses on the edge of town are shabbier than the rest. People hesitate in their doorways, staring at you and the tall, handsome man next to you. You see them do the warding sign as you go, and you squeeze your hands into fists as they do. 

Weeds crawl up the side of the old church. The structure leans heavily to the left, the stairs unusable and the ceiling fallen in. Instead of walking up the hazardous steps and inside the dilapidated building, you lead Taehyung around it, where the grass grows higher than your knees and the sound of grasshoppers buzzing by you follows. 

A dry-rotted fence surrounds what was once a graveyard. You walk toward it, leading Taehyung until he starts slowing down a few paces behind you. You stop and turn over your shoulder to look at him, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun. 

Taehyung looks thoughtful, dark eyes scanning the area. He’s stopped walking entirely, head cocked to the side. “Why’d you bring me here?” 

“I don’t know. I just… walked in this direction. I used to come here for the silence, sometimes.”

Taehyung has a strange look on his face. “Is that so?” 

“Why do you look like that?” 

“How long has this place been here?” 

“The church closed before I could remember. Honestly, they said it was haunted by this graveyard, which has been here a lot longer than the church. Even the oldest families in town don’t have their dead buried here. Rumor has it that it was built long before the town was.” 

Taehyung starts walking normally again. Side by side, you begin to navigate around the graveyard. “And you come here? Why?” 

“It’s quiet. When I was too young to stay at the house alone, my mom would bring me to town while she ran errands. I was allowed to explore, but I liked to come here.”

“Most kids are afraid of places of the dead.” 

You shrug. “It was quiet, and it gave me time to imagine things. I liked to make up fantasies about the old gods here or… what I imagined they might be. Of heroes descended from them, maybe.” 

“And you felt drawn here?” 

You startle when a grasshopper shoots across the grass in front of you. You laugh as it vanishes into the foliage. “Yeah, it just felt… safe.” 

“Strange.” 

“Am I allowed to ask why or are you going to complain you’re talking too much again?”  He snorts and gestures for you to continue. “Why is that strange? Beyond the fact that it’s, you know, a graveyard.” 

Sighing, Taehyung squints up at the line of trees nearby. His hand hovers along the tops of the grass as he runs it over each blade, letting the tips tickle his hands. You’re almost waist high in grass, glancing down to make sure you don’t step into any holes. 

“This place is old. The people of the church felt haunted because they were. Death owns this land.” 

You frown. “Well, the dead are here. The other graveyard doesn’t feel the same.”

“You misunderstand me. Death - the Eternal. His presence is all over. Someone important to him must be buried here.” 

“Oh.” 

You stop and think about that. Turning to look at the unmarked and lime washed tombstones, you scan for any sign of Death. You have no idea what you’re looking for. Ivy and time have taken over most of the concrete slabs, and none of the names or dates are legible by now. They’re just hewn stone, buried in green and grime. 

But you feel something here, a tingling on the back of your neck like the one you felt in the woods by your house. A chill wind blows over the land, sweeping the grass and rattling the trees. You feel the breeze against your neck, cool as fingers trailing down your spine. 

Suddenly, you feel a buzz on your skin. It’s not so different from Yoongi’s presence, and it chills you. 

You look up at Taehyung with wide, fearful eyes. He smiles and shakes his head. “You don’t need to be afraid of Death. Death is neither good nor bad, he just is. He only takes those who are ready.” 

“Have you met - um - Death?” 

Taehyung nods. “He is a man of few words, but Namjoon is unwaveringly kind and wise.”

“Strange that I was drawn to coming here.” You head back toward the town. The sun passes its zenith and makes its way into the early afternoon. “Is this whole place filled with Eternals or what?”

“No, it’s actually a rather unremarkable location. Namjoon lingers in many places. Yoongi was simply drawn here.” 

“By what?” 

Instead of answering the question, Taehyung sticks his hands in his pockets. “Show me more of your town.” 

So you do. Taehyung is a good companion. Where Yoongi would quietly observe and make sounds to indicate that he’s listening and admires the things you’re talking about, Taehyung asks questions. You realize he’s a tactile person as well. He touches things as he walks by them, brushing his fingers on fabric, touching jewelry at vendor stands.

Everywhere you go is a similar reaction to the instrument store. People seem happy to see Taehyung at first before they see you, fear making them lean away and ward you off. You realize you don’t know how much time has passed since you vanished from the woods and returned. 

When you ask Taehyung, he shrugs and explains that time moves differently and inconsistently. It could have been a day, it could have been a week, it could have been five months. By the looks on the faces of those you pass, you think perhaps it’s been a little longer than you anticipated.

Part of you wonders what lie your parents must have told them about your death. You almost want to ask, but you don’t, anxiety stilling your tongue. You probably wouldn’t be able to get close enough to anyone to ask anyway. 

By the time the sun has sunk beyond the horizon and the moon has begun its climb, you and Taehyung stop at the tavern to eat. Your stomach rumbles as you step into the warmth of the room behind Taehyung, and you notice that the place goes quiet.

It’s subtle at first, something you don’t notice as you kick dirt off your shoes, but the hush becomes so intense that you can’t help but look up, gaze sweeping the room as everyone turns to stare at you. 

Behind the counter, the barkeep straightens. His name is Sloan - you’ve known him since you were a little girl - and he looks less than happy at your arrival.

“I know I’m pretty,” Taehyung announces loudly, tossing the hair out his eyes. “But you don’t need to stare.”

“You aren’t welcome here,” Sloan says, voice wavering like he’s unsure if he means it. “Begone, demon. We are men and women of life and light!”

You swallow thickly and look around, feeling prickly heat crawl up your neck. 

Like at the music shop, something happens to Taehyung, except this time, it’s stronger than before. The candles in the chandelier and on the tables flicker in a phantom wind and darkness pulses in the room. You feel energy rolling off of him and you swear Taehyung gets darker as he steps forward, his presence oppressive and threatening. 

There is crying and gasping in the room as he seethes. “We are not demons, and you will not disallow this woman to enter your shops, your homes, or anywhere else she wishes.” 

“Taehyung,” you whisper, throat dry. 

He doesn’t seem to hear you. You swear there is thunder in the distance. Whatever power belonging to Taehyung is tenfold now that the night sky stretches over the tavern. “Refuse her service, and there will be consequences.”

“Taehyung,” you hiss, snatching his sleeve. You pull his attention to you. His eyes are like two obsidian coins. There is something sharp and lupine about his face, sending your heart hammering. “Stop. This is making it worse.” 

“They should not insult you.”

“It’s fine.”

He softens a touch. “It isn’t. You are not… they do not understand you.”

“They never have. Come on, let’s just go.”

For a second, you think he might not. You don’t know what Taehyung is or what he can do. It doesn’t frighten you, though. Because whatever Taehyung is and whatever his intentions are, he’s linked to Yoongi. Yoongi would never put you in harm's way or let Taehyung near you if he was a threat.

Even after such a short period of time, you know this in your heart of hearts.

Taehyung relents and the light returns to the room. No one makes a sound, all eyes on Taehyung as he lets you pull him out of the door and into the night. You immediately feel better outside, the moon washing your skin in light and the stars watching you march into the street. 

“You can’t just threaten everyone who insults me,” you snap, though you’re not really mad at him. “They’re only going to hate me more. And they will think you’re a demon when you do that.”

“I’m far more powerful than a demon,” he sniffs primly. “And they should not insult you. You have the favor of Dream. You are -” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Well, you’re far above their station. They know nothing.”

“Far above their station,” you snort, crushing a rock under the toe of your boot. “I’m a girl who was strange when they knew me before they thought I was dead, and now they think I’m a demon walking around with her scary demon husband. Or perhaps they think you are an evil entity.” 

“Don’t make that joke around Yoongi,” Taehyung mutters, putting his hands on his hips. Before you can ask what that means, he says, “What if I took you somewhere instead, then?”

You raise your brows and look around. “Where?”

“Well not here. Somewhere familiar to me, where they won’t ostracize you.”

“We’re going to travel in the middle of the night.”

Taehyung gives you a square grin that lights up the world. “Time to learn about how we travel.”

-

You almost vomit on Taehyung’s shoes. He squeals and steps out of the way as you bend over, holding your middle as bile burns its way up your throat and splatters onto the gravel beneath you. It feels like your world is spinning and you’ve lost your center of gravity, having been pulled by something sharp in your stomach into a vortex of what felt like twisting and spinning.

It could only have lasted a second, but Taehyung has to hold you up for a moment as you gasp for air, the taste in your mouth sour and gross. You crane your face to look at him, glaring as he winces. He had given you no warning of what his travel was like or how it would feel.

You’re not looking forward to it again.

“What,” you pant, “was that?”

“Teleportation, mostly. I kind of forgot what it feels like when you’re… human. You get a little scrambled.”

The nausea makes your throat clench and unclench again. You dig your fingers into his arm as you dry heave but nothing comes up. “A little?” you rasp. The world slows its spinning and the watering feeling in your mouth that preludes puking fades. “That was awful.”

“Sorry, it’s different than portaling. That’s more stepping through the door while teleportation is like... Jumping.”

“Don’t jump me again any time soon.”

Taehyung pats your back heartily as you stand up straight. The stars swim above you in a spiraling cosmos. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, waiting as the nausea fades away and the world around you bleeds into the forefront of your attention span. 

Noise hums from in front of you. You’re standing in an alleyway, looking up at the side of a building. It looks a bit like an inn, but you can hear the clamor of a crowd and loud voices coming from inside. Each window is curtained, keeping wandering eyes and the moonlight outside. 

Taehyung leads you around to the front of the building. It’s two stories and on the first floor there’s a porch filled with chairs and gambling tables. There are men and women draped over the furniture, smoking sweet-smelling cigars and laughing loudly as they throw dice on the table. 

Women and men in various states of undress sit on the laps of the others. You feel heat crawl up your neck as you avert your eyes, looking up at the sign hanging over the building that says Desert Rose. Nervousness tingles at the back of your neck as Taehyung strolls up the steps to what you’re sure is a brothel and a gambling den, greeting people as he goes.

You’re shocked that Taehyung knows people here. You’re sure that you’re still in… your dimension, as Yoongi calls it. The people here talk with an accent that is different from what you’re used to, but you still understand the language, even while struggling to keep up with the lilt.

Eyes follow you as Taehyung leads you inside. The air is thick with perfume, smoke, and loud voices. Tables are pressed closely together, filled with people. There’s a bar at the back of the room and a small bard and band in a corner, singing a raucous song with the crowd about Lady Trown who gets around and will go down. 

“Where did you bring me?” you ask Taehyung as he guides you through the rowdy room. A woman falls over a card game laughing, her breasts spilling out of her shirt while another woman plants a kiss right on her mouth. “This place is - is -”

There are no words for it. You’ve never been somewhere that is so openly indecent and carnal in your life and yet… the colors and the sounds and the overflowing joy hit you like an arrow to the chest. You can’t help but be drawn to look at the exposed bodies before darting your gaze away, only to be drawn somewhere else out of insatiable curiosity. 

“A haven!” Taehyung offers as he leans on the bar. “Two pints of whatever!” 

You press close against him, hands shooting to his shirt as someone pushes by you. It’s a little overwhelming and you feel hot all over. Taehyung shoves a wooden tankard of amber liquid into your hands and grins, raising another to his lips before taking several swigs, liquid running down his chin and neck. 

He comes away and smacks his lips, giving you a delighted grin. “It’s awful, just the way I like it!”

You take a sip and make a face. The watered-down ale is certainly nothing like the sweet wine Yoongi likes to treat you to over dinner. Taehyung seems to know this, laughing loudly as he leads you through the crowd toward an empty table in the corner. 

Back against the wall, you take a moment to look around the room. There are card and dice games being held at multiple tables, alongside other games with rune-marked stones, cups and trinkets that you don’t recognize.

It’s wildly different from anything back home. You’ve never been to a brothel - at least, you think this place qualifies for one, based on the various states of undress and a few couples doing something that makes you avert your eyes - but this is nice. In its own loud and carnal way.

Taehyung people-watches with you. He feeds you information on the faces that he recognizes, lips curling as he gossips. He looks alive and happy, his golden skin glowing with a radiance that seems a little magical. 

“So is it my turn to ask questions?” you ask, sipping the awful beer as you look over at Taehyung. His gaze reluctantly strays away from watching a card game where you’re pretty sure the woman who is winning is cheating. “Or do I still have to talk about myself?” 

He smirks. “You can ask questions, a deal is a deal.”

“What is this place?” 

“The Desert Rose.” 

You glare. “What is this place to you?” 

Taehyung takes a sip of his ale and grins, winking at you. “A better question. This place is somewhere I used to visit when I wanted to feel alive. When I wanted to feel humanity for its raw intensity.”

“So you’re not human.” He shakes his head. His face grows a little hesitant, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. “What are you?” 

“I’m a dream.” 

You blink once. Twice. You expect Taehyung to start laughing and indicate that he was teasing you, but he doesn’t. He leans back in his chair, watching you evenly with his dark eyes. 

“What?” you finally ask.

“I’m a dream. The second ever, actually.”

You think about what you’ve observed of Taehyung. The way that he seems to draw people in, the animated manner in which he speaks. He seems to contain so many multitudes of the things you know that Yoongi enjoys, and yet so many things that press Yoongi’s buttons and rattle him. 

Taehyung is… beautiful. Enchanting. Both to look at, and to talk to. He has a carefree personality and you know he’s magical, having witnessed it in the House of Dreams in snippets but also today, when he became angry and the darkness seemed to swell around him. Not to mention his awful teleportation to wherever you are in the world now.

He is exactly the kind of person you always imagined being the lead in your fantasies. Brave and charming, handsome and adventurous. He looks like he belongs here, melding to the energy around him, fitting in perfectly.

Suddenly, the thought of Taehyung being a dream makes more sense than anything else. A being of infinite possibilities, one who can shape themselves to anyone and anything, who can sense what people want and become that very thing.

You’re not sure what the complexities of dreams are, but you understand the very basics from Yoongi: most dreams are flexible and full of infinite possibilities. It’s what makes them so real, so strong. 

“That makes a lot of sense,” you murmur. “So you’re old.”

“Very.”

“If you’re the second dream…” you trail off, thinking about how Yoongi explained how he came to existence. How life dreamed and so he was born. “Yoongi is the first. That’s why you say he is Dream - he is the first and the essence of dreams.”

“Very clever.”

“When you said you came here to feel alive, what did you mean by that?”

He sighs heavily. “Yoongi was born because Life dreamed of - well, making life. And when Yoongi was born, he was the very concept of dreaming itself. Imagination, creation, wonder, hope. It’s why creation and dreaming are so close in their nature. But still, there is a difference between lifeforms and dreams.” 

“You wanted to know what it was like to feel life?”

He nods. “Yoongi made me as his first companion. He couldn’t help it, really. He didn’t make me on purpose so much as he thought of someone to spend time with, someone to offset him. To balance him. And then there I was.” 

You chew on your lip. There is a distant look in Taehyung’s gaze. He stares at his ale, not drinking anymore. He picks at splinters in the tankard handle, the noise around the two of you a dull roar. 

“But?” you offer, sensing his hesitance. 

“But,” he agrees, nodding. “When Life created humans, I wondered what the difference was between us. I sort of looked like them and I talked like them, but I wanted to know what it was like to be them. And dreams… They are wonderful. Beautiful. But I was afraid they weren’t real, so I started to visit here. To go places. To see if life was the same as dreams.” 

“Is it?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not better, it’s not worse. It’s just different. But I did learn that dreams are as real as life. Perhaps you cannot always see them and feel them depending on where you are, but anything someone dreams here is real there.” 

“That’s sort of comforting.” 

Taehyung smiles. “It is. Plus, I really enjoy people. They have an edge to them that dreams don’t.” 

Someone catches Taehyung’s attention. He turns in his seat, head craning as though he senses something. You follow his line of sight to where a young man descends the stairs leading up to the second floor. He is unlike anything you’ve ever seen, with dark, silky hair tucked behind his ears, full lips that pull into a smile as someone greets him, and sharp, dark eyes that crinkle when he laughs.

He’s beautiful. Suddenly you think that this might be what a dream truly looks like. Taehyung is all dark and shadows, but the man Taehyung watches is lightness and magic, his face so perfect that you cannot help but imagine it must be the result of someone carefully painting every feature. 

Your eyes flicker back to Taehyung when the man leans on the bar, talking to the barmaid behind the counter. Taehyung doesn’t move. You don’t even think he’s breathing. He sits in his chair, knuckles paling under the grip he has on the back of his seat, his eyes filled with such sudden longing that you have to look away. 

“Who is that?” you ask gently. Taehyung doesn’t seem to hear you. He watches and watches, wanting to look nowhere else but at the bar. “Taehyung?”

“His name is Jimin.” 

“That’s a pretty name.”

Taehyung nods. “He’s like you.”

“Like me?”

“He dreams loud enough for us to hear it. For me to hear it. I’ve been coming to this place long before he existed. A silly coincidence that he exists here, too.” 

“Fate, perhaps?” 

That makes Taehyung turn around. His expression is dark and he’s frowning. “Don’t start talking about Hoseok,” Taehyung mutters. “Lest he show up.”

You didn’t mean Yoongi’s sibling Fate, but you realize that’s who Taehyung is talking about. Your eyes drift back to where Jimin is at the bar, sipping a glass of amber liquid. As though he senses eyes on him, his gaze sweeps the bar until it lands on Taehyung, who straightens immediately. 

Jimin smiles and it’s like watching the first ray of sun break over the horizon. You can’t help but blink at his radiant beauty, completely taken aback by it as Jimin pushes off of the bar and begins heading your direction. 

Taehyung swivels in his chair, taking in a few calming breaths. You giggle and he looks up at you, giving you a pitiful smile. You reach across the table and squeeze his hand quickly. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!”

“You definitely are.”

Before Taehyung can hiss a rebuttal at you, Jimin sidesteps a woman and grins at Taehyung. He drags his gaze to you and startles, as though he had not realized you were there, eyes going round and mouth forming an ‘o’. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with anyone,” Jimin says. His voice is soft and smooth, immediately comforting. “I wanted to come say hello.”

“Hi,” Taehyung breathes, blinking up at Jimin as though he is lost in starlight. Perhaps he is, you think. “Your hair is longer than the last time I saw you.”

Jimin flushes, a hand coming up to touch the ends of his hair gently. “Yeah, I thought I would grow it out.”

“It looks great.” 

For a moment, they stare at one another, Taehyung grinning with his eyes gleaming, and Jimin soft with his eyes scrunched. You look at the table, trying not to disrupt whatever spell they’re under as they peer at one another, but it seems Jimin senses your presence still. His eyes flicker to you and he raises a brow, questioning.

Taehyung fumbles to introduce you, turning and giving you a sheepish grin. You smile and stretch your hand over to shake Jimin’s. His hands are small and delicate but his grip is firm. “It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung wanted to show me this place because he enjoys the people so much - I believe that includes you.” 

Jimin smirks and shrugs a shoulder while Taehyung looks for a chair, yanking it away from someone to give Jimin a place to sit. He does, throwing Taehyung a grateful smile. “Hmm, is that so? Has he said nice things about me?”

“The nicest. In fact, the whole reason we came here is because he wanted to introduce me to the amazing Jimin.” 

Taehyung shoots you a look that tells you to shut up, but you hide your grin in your tankard as Jimin raises a brow, glancing at Taehyung. 

Watching Taehyung and Jimin is comedic and sweet. Taehyung isn’t an entirely different person around Jimin, but he becomes softer at the edges, his smiles gentler and his laughs louder. The longing in Taehyung’s gaze when he thinks Jimin isn’t looking is palpable, and even as a bystander and a friend, you feel a pang watching the two of them dance around one another. 

For his part, Jimin seems equally enthralled. He watches Taehyung with rapt attention, asking questions and touching Taehyung gently everywhere he can - the tops of Taehyung’s hands, his arm, his elbow. When Taehyung turns around to watch the table next to you topple over, you realize he’s unaware that Jimin is looking at him as though begging for Taehyung to see. 

You see. And you want. 

Never before had your parents inspired much desire for love in you. While they worked well together, you still can’t call what they had happy or loving. Functional, sure. Successful, even. But they did not look at one another the way Taehyung and Jimin seem to, and you can’t help but suddenly feel like that is something you want.

Someone to look at you when they think you’re not looking in a way that implies you are their sun and moon. Someone who smiles with such mirth at something you do or say that you can feel the heat of it. 

Jimin gets up to refill the drinks, scooping yours with a grin before vanishing in the crowd. Taehyung watches him go, craning his neck to ensure he has eyes on Jimin as he makes his way to the bar.

“Have you told him you’re in love with him?” 

Taehyung shakes his head, eyes never leaving where Jimin is leaning over the bar to order. “There’s no point.” 

“What? Why not?”

“I’m a dream. He’s a human. We could never be something.” 

“Oh. Surely there’s a way?” 

Taehyung turns to look at you, the joy on his face slipping to be replaced with a soft sadness. He shakes his head again, picking at the splinters on the table. “I would be no good for him. We live in two different worlds… I come and go… He deserves a normal, human life. We could never be something.”

Jimin starts to head back toward the table. Taehyung shakes off the melancholy and smiles just as bright when Jimin returns, as though he wasn’t sad only a moment ago. You accept the refilled drink from Jimin with a weak smile.

Taehyung’s words cycle through your mind as the two men fall into giggling conversation, and all you can think about is a pair of dark cat eyes, a soft raspy voice, and a man who is made of dreams.

We could never be something. 

-

“I was starting to worry, you know?” 

Yoongi’s voice makes you blink. You realize you’re standing among the wisteria, the breeze carrying their sweet scent over your warm skin. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. He’s leaning against a tree, his long hair down and dancing in the breeze. The thin white shirt he wears does little to hide the lines of his stomach and chest today, making you avert your eyes. 

“Why?” you ask, voice steadier than you feel. 

You walk toward a low-hanging vine, bringing your hands up to brush along the purple petals. You feel the tree shiver under your touch. You sense it, like it purrs, a response that is hard to explain but you innately know. 

“It took you longer than usual to fall asleep.”

“Can you not see me when I’m not asleep?”

“I could, but prying is rude. I only see you when you come to me.”

You turn to look at him sharply. He seems a little smug at that, the corners of his full lips twitching like he’s fighting a smirk. Your heart skips a beat for a moment before Taehyung’s words from that night play in your mind. We could never be something. 

And yet Yoongi is implying it’s you who visits him. 

You scowl and turn away from him suddenly. Yoongi makes a sound like a sigh and pushes off of the tree, his footsteps quiet as a whisper. “Have I upset you?” 

“I want to go to sleep.”

He hesitates. You cannot see his expression, but you can picture it perfectly: brows drawn together, mouth pouted slightly, head cocked.  His confusion is evident when he says, “You are asleep.”

“You know what I mean.” 

Silence, for a moment. Then, in that soft, rasping voice that you know so well, he murmurs, “Goodnight, then.” 

-

Silence greets you when you wake up the next morning. Your home is still empty - you have not seen either of your parents since you arrived the night before. Either you’re coming and going at hours they’re not around or they’re avoiding you. The latter is most likely, and you certainly don’t mind. 

Your day goes similarly to the day before. This time, when you walk through the woods, you feel a little more of a spark. You’re sure it has to do with your conversation with Taehyung, his words about dreams and reality being different but equally powerful pouring a little bit of magic back into the woods you loved so dearly.

Still, you miss the other realm and the House of Dreams, even if you’re a little embarrassed by your dream last night, recalling the way you dismissed Yoongi. 

Sitting on the ground with your back pressed against a cypress tree, you let out a heavy sigh and close your eyes, your arms hugging around your middle. You try not to think too hard about the way Yoongi looked leaning against the tree, dark eyes drinking you in. 

Yoongi occupies more than his fair share of thoughts. You hate it, the way your mind strays to him, thinking this is something Yoongi would like or Yoongi would find this funny. Only two weeks and he and Taehyung are suddenly all you know, your experiences with them painting most of your thoughts. 

Thoughts of Taehyung don’t plague you, though. 

The fluttering feeling every time you think of Yoongi has not faded with time or distance. It might be easier if he didn’t visit your dreams every night - or if you didn’t visit him in your dreams, which you don’t know how to do. 

But Taehyung’s forlorn words come drifting back to you, reminding you that there is some distinction between humans and dreams. That even for Taehyung, it cannot work. 

When you return home, your parents still aren’t there. You busy yourself with lunch and then begin practicing your letters, tracing them until your hand is cramping and your head is starting to hurt. You manage to take up most of the afternoon that way, focused solely on your studies and trying to read through your work.

Just as evening falls, Taehyung appears in the yard, hands on his hips as he looks up at your window, whistling to catch your attention. You grin when you see him, happy to have a friend, even if it’s just Taehyung. You don’t ask why Yoongi doesn’t come with him - the Eternal is busy, you’re sure - but you’re pleased to just have Taehyung. 

It becomes a routine. It’s not as thrilling as your life in the House of Dreams, but it isn’t as terrible as you thought it would be. The few times that you do see your parents, they glare at you as though you have become something evil in their house, lurking and stealing their joy. 

You say nothing to them and they stay away from you. 

It’s the same in town. You only visit with Taehyung, otherwise you are too afraid to go on your own. The villagers say nothing when they see the two of you walking around and visiting the old church, but they glare and you catch them doing the signs to ward off evil as you pass by. 

Still, Taehyung makes it worth it. He visits you nightly, whisking you away to the Desert Rose, which has become a refuge for you. You’re no better at teleporting, but you manage not to vomit on his shoes each time you do it. 

Tonight, the energy is thrumming at the Desert Rose. Your gaze lingers longer on those around you and you even introduce yourself to the people that Taehyung is familiar with. Though Taehyung opts to play a game of dice, you do not. You’re content to watch, standing over his shoulder with your arms crossed over your chest.

You feel… alive. Just like Taehyung described when he started coming here. It’s so different from your life before, and after over a week of being around people who seem to spill over with joy without restraint, you feel yourself loosening up. Becoming something a little different. Someone who wants. Someone who wants openly. 

You think about Yoongi. Once he’d told you that he wasn’t just Eternal of dreams. He also has power over desire, and he believes in indulgence. He wants to teach you to indulge more. It suddenly makes all the more sense that Taehyung likes it here. He’s someone who dives in head first to things, taking any bet someone throws his way and snatching drinks off of passing trays. 

Even his desire for Jimin is open and obvious, though you’re sure Taehyung doesn’t know that. 

It’s a lovely night. You feel warm all over, the drink getting to you as you guzzle down the remainder of your cider, which you favor far more than the ale. Jimin clambors onto the table, a cup in hand as he starts yelling the words to the song the band is playing in the corner. 

Taehyung begins to slam his wooden cup on the table in time with the beat, yelling the words and standing up as the room joins in, stamping their feet and slamming on tables. You don’t know the words but you laugh loudly, slamming your palms against the top of the table. They sting with the force of your slap, but it feels good. 

You feel good. Happy. Drunk. A little dizzy as the table wobbles and you dive out of the way as Jimin comes tumbling down. It doesn’t stop you from taking a shower of beer from Jimin’s cup, dousing you in warm liquid as you shriek and laugh. 

Taehyung catches Jimin, of course. They’re a tangled mess of limbs and wet with beer all the same, pointing at you and laughing as you blink through the drink dripping down your face. You flick beer at them with the liquid on your hands, making them howl. 

“Gross! Jimin!”

“I’m so sorry,” he gasps through the laughter, his arms slung tight around Taehyung’s neck as Jimin leans into him. “I slipped!”

“You owe me a new shirt!” 

Jimin nods, grinning so broadly his eyes are crescents as he stands properly and beckons you. “Come on, both of you. I’ll get you new shirts that aren’t soaked. 

Upstairs is a series of private rooms. The hall is lit with flickering sconces and the plush carpet mutes your footsteps. Jimin leads you and Taehyung, giggling, to a door. He thrusts it open and the three of you tip inside, stopping short at the scene in front of you.

Your hands fly to your mouth to mute your gasp, but Taehyung and Jimin collapse into another fit of laughter. If the two people in the bed are bothered by the interruption, they don’t show it. They are a tableau of pleasure, a woman laying back on the bed, arching upward as she lets out a moan. Her skin is slick with sweat, nipples hard as she teases them with one hand, another hand slipping between her legs to cradle the head of someone there.

The shock roots you to the spot. You can’t look away, completely hypnotized by the way the person between the woman’s legs moans, pressing their mouth further into her, the wet smack of their mouth loud over the woman’s trembling moans. 

You’ve never seen such a raw, carnal exchange. As Taehyung apologizes and grabs you and Jimin, pulling you back out into the hallway, you know you’ll never forget that momentary vision. Even as Jimin directs you to the right room to change your shirt in, you replay the scene over and over in your head, thinking of a different detail every single time: the pleasure on the woman’s face, the delicate bow of her back, the soft swells of her breasts, the wet sounds of the mouth between her legs. 

It haunts you. You swallow thickly when you’re done changing, skin still smelling like beer. Your mind wanders to Yoongi, wondering if this is what he was talking about when he spoke of desire. If he also meant physical desire, the indulgence of the erotic variety. 

The thought shames you so thoroughly you’re silent the rest of the night. You’re embarrassed by your immediate curiosity - angry that you even entertained the thought of being in that position with Yoongi, no matter how fleeting the idea was. 

Yoongi certainly did not mean he was going to teach you that - did he?

You shake the thoughts from your head and focus on reality. Of course he didn’t mean that. Taehyung was right when he spoke about the relationships between humans and dreams - it could never be something. 

-

Sweat trickles down your neck slowly. You feel every inch of it, your skin sensitive and over-warm. Your stomach clenches and your hands twist in your sheets as a hot mouth presses against your throat, teeth scraping, tongue licking. 

An inferno grows inside of you as the mouth sinks lower. You hear your heaving breaths, loud and ragged. Your heart beats in your ears, the staccato almost louder than the whimper that leaves your mouth when a wet, messy kiss is placed on your collarbone. 

It’s madness. It’s tortuous. It’s glorious, this feeling thrumming through you, making you twist your head to the side, muscles clenching and letting loose over and over again, your body completely at war with itself.

But it feels so good. 

One of your hands shoots to the silky, dark hair of the person kissing your chest. You card your fingers through soft strands, tugging a little. A deep, throaty moan escapes the lips pressed to your skin, breath hot and warm. 

Dark eyes meet yours, lips parted and swollen, Yoongi’s pupils blown and -

Panic explodes. You realize it’s Yoongi kissing you this way. Yoongi’s hands skimming up your sides, Yoongi’s mouth pressing searing kisses to your flesh, Yoongi’s moan that is falling from his lips, honey sweet. 

“We can’t,” you whisper, though dream-Yoongi just stares at you, eyes fathomless. “We could never be something.”

“Of course we can,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. “You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” 

The weight of his gaze is blazing. You feel your skin burn under the heat of it, you feel like it’s harder to breathe, you feel the sweat run down your spine, your arms, you feel like you’re overheating, it’s hot it’s too-

-

You wake up to something screeching. For a moment, daylight blinds you. You hold your hands in front of your face, shielding your eyes from the light. But the light is an inferno of heat against your hand, making you gasp and choke on thick air as you blink sleep away, trying to make sense of where you are. 

Fire. It isn’t daylight you’ve woken up to, it’s fire. 

Leaping up from bed, you throw your sheets off, scrambling to push yourself against the wall. The flames are already high, licking toward the ceiling and filling your room with thick, grey smoke as the fire eats at the old wood of your house. 

The screech comes again, the shutters on your window rattling. Heart pounding, you slide your hand along the wall, fingers trembling as you press them into the wood, trying to find the metal latch to open them. You cover the lower half of your face with your opposite arm, coughing into it. 

Your fingers slip on the latch, sweaty and shaking. You inch closer to the window, getting a solid grip on the metal and flipping it upward. The latch clacks and the windows swing open, a gust of wind entering the room. It makes matters worse, the oxygen fueling the fire into a rage as it climbs higher and jumps towards your bed. 

You look frantically around your room, realizing you can’t take anything. The writing desk in the corner is aflame, all of the sheets of paper and your hard-earned practice curling into smoke as they’re consumed, your letters from Yoongi turning to ash. 

“No!” you sob, realizing those things are lost forever.

Again, there’s a wild screech. You turn to look out the window to see a large, brown owl - Guardian, you realize - screeching, flapping its great wings, gold eyes fixated on the fire. It yells at you again, as though imploring you to move. 

You take a breath and dive out the window. For a moment as you fall toward the ground, you’re reminded that this is the second time you’re having to use it to escape danger. That thought sinks like a stone in your stomach, going down, down, down until it rests weighty in your gut.

The smack of the ground rattles you. Every part of you hurts, bones jolting as you roll until you’re flat on your back, gasping as the air leaves your lungs momentarily, knocked out of you. Scrambling up despite your limbs protesting in pain, you look up at the fire crawling over your house. 

That’s when you notice it - the noise and the yelling of voices. Inside your home, with the roaring and crackling of the fire, you couldn’t hear the crowd outside. Now, you see them in full. They carry torches and farm tools, some of them with axes and hoes, others with scythes. 

They don’t see you yet, giving you a long moment to stare open-mouthed as the pieces of the puzzle slide together. They’ve set your home on fire because of you - they’ve tried to kill you. Because they think you’re a demon and because they think you’re an evil creature. 

Heart in your throat, you scan the lines of the faces. Toward the edge, you see your parents. A group of women consoles your mother, holding her by the shoulders gently as she stares into the orange flame. Your father stands a few feet away, almost by himself, watching and watching and watching. 

They knew you were asleep. And your window had not been closed before bed - you’d been leaving it open at night so Guardian could come and go as he pleased. 

You sit there on the ground, staring in shock, for too long. Someone notices you and points, screaming something that you cannot hear over the blood rushing in your ears. Panic seizes you and you scramble to your feet, sliding a few times as the crowd runs at you.

There’s no time to see what your parents do. The image of them watching their home burn with the thought of you inside is fresh in your memory, a razor-sharp cut that flays you open as you turn and run. Run toward the woods where Nathaniel chased you on that fateful night. 

Run to the woods you almost died in. Run to the woods where Yoongi swooped in and made a promise to protect you. 

Darkness descends. You think for a moment as you enter the woods that you won’t get lucky a second time, that your luck has run out. It’s the panic that scrambles your thoughts, and the memories of Nathaniel chasing you through these woods make you stumble and fall. 

You don’t make it far. You trip over a tree root and tumble into strong arms. The smell of clove and cinnamon is overpowering as you look up at Yoongi, who pulls you into his chest. You let him, sliding your arms around his middle and pressing your face into his neck as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I’ve got you, little lamb.” His voice is dark as the shadows that wrap around you, cool and soothing to the touch. “They cannot hurt you.” 

As Yoongi whisks you away like that fateful night, you hear the echoing voice scream behind you. Devil! Demon King! The Dark God!

-

“It’s my fault,” Yoongi murmurs, cradling your face to inspect it for the tenth time. He’s crouching in front of you, dark eyes wild as he inspects your face for any damage. You pull your jaw from his grasp - even if his touch tingles pleasantly - and look in the other direction. “I should have known.”

“Yes,” Taehyung snaps behind Yoongi, arms crossed and presence thundering. “You should have.” 

There is no fire going in the library tonight. You have a feeling Yoongi has extinguished it for obvious reasons, but you say nothing. You look over Yoongi’s dark head to where Taehyung is raging, his face pinched with anger. You give him a look and he tosses his hands in the air. 

“What?” he demands. “It’s true.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’m not going to lie to him. He should have known sending you back was an idiotic idea. Thinking anyone would have accepted you was an oversight.”

Yoongi grits his teeth and stands. You watch as he visibly tries to control his frustration, taking a step back from you. Tonight, he’s dressed in all black. His cloak is still on and his necklaces pool at his throat, the silver cold in the dark of the library. His hair is pulled back out of his face and you think he looks like the real Eternal, tonight. 

He turns to Taehyung. “You know why I sent her back.”

“Yes, your fucked up sense of morality and-”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not sitting right here,” you snap. You ball your fists in your lap. You’re still dressed in night clothes and the scent of ash and sweat is heavy on your skin. You stare at your hands. “I want to go to bed.” 

“Alright.” Yoongi’s extended hand appears in front of you. You drag your eyes up to meet his. Gone is the anger and severity, replaced only with a soft, almost fond expression. “I’ll walk you.”

Putting your hand in Yoongi's, you let him pull you out of the chair. 

You could be mad at him if you tried. Perhaps it would be easy to blame Yoongi for sending you back to keep some semblance of normalcy in your life. Maybe you would feel lighter if you got angry with him for promising to protect you, but only being able to physically do so, unable to shield you from the hatred of your community. 

If you tried, perhaps you could blame him for not letting you drown in the first place. For bringing you here with the fantasy that you could exist with one foot in each world. 

You’re not mad at him, though. Unlike Taehyung, you don’t need to wonder why Yoongi wanted you to spend two weeks in the real world. The real world is yours. It’s where you belong. To want some sort of normalcy for you or hope that you’d be able to pick up your life there anew was perhaps shortsighted, but rooted in the desire to do good for you.

So you’re not angry with Yoongi, though you’re not sure you’re pleased either. 

The walk to your room is silent. Yoongi has let go of your hand but he walks close enough that your arms brush, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing, and he seems content to let you keep your thoughts to yourself. 

This isn’t how you wanted to see him for the first time since your two weeks spent in your realm.

The inside of your room is warm, but there’s no fire. You almost ask if he’s doused every flame in the house, and protest that you’re not afraid, but you don’t. He follows you into your room and shuts the door behind him. You walk toward the chaise and sit on it, looking up at where he hovers by the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes finding yours. The emotions there are deep, but unreadable. “It was foolish of me to think they’d accept you as you were. Foolish to think that maybe the relationship with your parents might mend.” 

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I am thousands of years old. Humankind has not changed so much in their ability to fear the unknown and react violently. I do know better, but I…”  You wait for him to explain further, but he doesn’t. Yoongi lets the sentence drift off into the night. Instead of finishing it, he ventures, “Are you sure you’re unharmed?” 

“Yeah, Guardian was screeching at the window.” 

“Guardian?”

“Yeah, the owl. I assumed you sent it to watch over me.” 

Yoongi frowns. “No, that’s what Taehyung was for. I did not…”

“What?” You see the look on his face change, shifting from confused to steel calm. “What is it?” 

“Hoseok,” Yoongi mutters, turning to exit your room. “Try to get some sleep. I have a meddling owl to deal with.” 

As he moves to close the door, you lean forward. “Yoongi?” He looks up, eyes wide, expression soft. He looks like a dark star, just then. The light from the window makes him glow from within, his eyes endless pools, his power ebbing in the room, a constant energy. “Thank you.”

His mouth turns downward. “For what?”

“Saving me. Again.”

His eyes darken. “Your safety will always be paramount to me. I’ll do better.” 

“I think you’re doing the best you are able.” 

“Thank you for saying so.”

Silence hangs between the two of you. It’s heavy, filled with friction that wasn’t there before. You squirm where you sit, suddenly unable to meet the set of eyes pinned to you. You’d  forgotten what his gaze could do to you in person, and now the full force of it is dizzying. 

“Goodnight, little lamb.”

-

A gentle scratch sounds on the other side of the window. You look up from your writing desk to the windows facing the mountains. Beyond the first sprawling peaks, you see the tallest of them all, the dark mountain wreathed in shadow and lightning. 

The thunder rolls, vibrating your bones. You stare at the mountain, feeling the hair at the back of your neck stand on end. You grip the quill tight. 

Beneath the hum of thunder, you hear a scratching on the glass again. You squint, but you see nothing there. Just open air and those ominous mountains in the back, watching you as you scrawl your letters. 

Carefully, you set the quill down and get up. The floor is cold as you walk toward the window, which is strange. The floor is always warm in your room, as are the walls and most of the House of Dreams, fueled by whatever magic lives through Yoongi. 

Near the glass, you almost feel how cold the window is. You frown and lift a hand, pressing a single finger against a pane. It’s freezing to the touch and you yank your hand back, perplexed as you stare at the single fingerprint left by your warm skin. 

The fingerprint fades but the scratching sound does not. A gentle scritch scritch scritch, like a nail on the window. 

“My betrothed,” someone whispers. Your blood runs cold and you whirl around, expecting to find someone standing in your bathroom. “Won’t you open the window for me? It’s so cold outside.” 

Fear turns your stomach into acid. Your hands begin to shake as you stare into the emptiness of your room, suddenly feeling like it’s darker. Did the ceilings get taller? Is your room blurry at the edges? The scratching on the window intensifies, and with trembling lips, you turn to look over your shoulder.

There’s nothing outside, but there’s a shadowy reflection on the glass. A little taller than you. A little wider. 

“Betrothed,” Nathaniel whispers again. “Won’t you let me in to reunite?” 

For a moment, there is silence. The shadow doesn’t move. You don’t dare breathe. The shadow leaps at you and a scream tears through you -

Hands press you into something soft. You kick and scream, lashing out. Sheets tangle your legs and stick to your sweaty skin. Suddenly it feels like you can’t breathe and you thrash wildly, screaming at the top of your lungs as you claw at whatever’s holding you down.

Panic like never before seizes you. Your head smacks into something hard and it knocks you backward, suddenly dizzy as a hand comes up to your head automatically. It hurts where your fingers press into the skin, and you’re momentarily subdued by the way the room spins; the pain morphs your panic into confusion.

Breathing heavily, you blink your eyes rapidly, tears streaming down your face and vision a little blurry as you try and put the pieces together. Finally, you realize Taehyung is sitting on the floor next to your bed with his hand pressed against his forehead, in a similar fashion to your current state. Yoongi stands next to him, hands held up tentatively, as though he is about to grab you or has just let you go. 

Silence hangs in the air, your breathing ragged. Your head - which you can surmise you’ve smacked against Taehyung’s - throbs wildly. As though sensing your discomfort and sticky thoughts, Yoongi’s eyes flicker away from your gaze to your head.

“May I fix that?” he asks slowly, voice gentle. “You smacked heads quite hard. I’m concerned you may be concussed.” 

“Concussed,” you repeat back slowly. The word feels heavy on your tongue. “Right.”

Yoongi’s face colors with concern and he gestures toward you, asking permission again. It takes you another minute to put it together, but you nod dumbly, watching as he steps forward very slowly, dark eyes looking for any sign of protest or panic from you.

When you don’t bolt or swing at him, he takes another step toward you, hands reaching up toward your skull. You flinch when he reaches near and he stops, hands hovering. You can feel the heat of his skin a hair's breadth away, feel the magic skimming along him where he hesitates. 

You look up at Yoongi. His eyes are wide and full of concern, his brows pulled up. His tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously as his eyes shift from your head to your eyes, trying to assess what to do. You smell cinnamon and clove and it calms you a little. 

This is Yoongi. Not Nathaniel. Yoongi, who saved you from the grips of that hateful man and who brought you here. Somewhere that made you happy.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. You feel tired suddenly, like your adrenaline is waning and the aftereffects are bleeding you out. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, pressing his hands gently to your head. You wince, the lump there giving a painful throb as he does. 

“Maybe apologize,” Taehyung mutters from his spot on the floor. “Are you going to give me magic hand, too?”

“Silence, Taehyung.” Yoongi’s voice is cutting. It’s a voice you’ve never heard him use with Taehyung, your eyes shooting up to his in shock. He pays you no mind, focused on his hands. 

Warmth emanates from his palms. Immediately you feel the tingle of magic. It’s soothing, making your eyes flutter as you become dizzy again. You let the warmth wash over you, accompanied by a peculiar array of senses: dark spicy smells; the feeling of velvet against your skin; the taste of cherry wine; a warm breath against your lips.

You shiver, head rolling back a little as it grows heavy and you grow drowsy suddenly, limbs weighted, mind fading. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t know that was a dream.” Yoongi grimaces and says nothing. “Why didn’t that feel like a dream, Yoongi?”

“Sleep,” Yoongi murmurs, and his voice feels very far away. “You’ll be fine, now. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Thank you.”

“An easy fix.” 

Yoongi removes his hand and you catch his wrist gently, eyes opening for a moment. “No,” you slur, speech heavy as the exhaustion pulls at you. “Thank you for saving me.”

You don’t know if you mean before, or when your neighbors came for you, or now. Maybe you mean all of it. Maybe you mean saving you from a life that you hated and bringing you here. You mean it nonetheless, though you’re unsure from where the bravery came to say it.

Dropping Yoongi’s wrist, you fall backward unceremoniously onto your bed. There is no fear of Nathaniel scratching at the glass anymore, your mind mostly empty, save for the smell of cinnamon and clove. 

Yoongi and Taehyung gather to leave your room, and as you fade, you catch the tiniest bit of conversation from Taehyung. “... need to teach her. It’s only going to get worse… spinner.” 

Sleep takes you. 

-

Being back in the House of Dreams feels like home. Though the lingering feeling of hot flame and the look on your parents’ faces as they watch their home burn still haunts you, you feel safer than you have in the last week. 

In the House of Dreams, there's no one to mutter prayers and sign wards against evil as you pass by. There’s no one glaring at you - except Taehyung, who pouts when you steal the last of the honey for your toast at breakfast. It’s just Yoongi and Taehyung, who talk more chipper than usual at breakfast. 

You eye Yoongi carefully. He sits at the head of the table, dressed in a beautiful, jade-colored silk shirt. His hair is pulled back in a bun, earrings dangling as he leads forward and plucks melon from the bowl in front of him. 

Yoongi lifts the fruit to his mouth. You pause chewing your toast, eyes focused on the way he bites into the fruit, lips plush around it, a bead of juice running down his chin. Suddenly you’re thinking about the night at The Desert Rose, a head between legs, a back that’s arched, skin sweaty-

Taehyung clears his throat from across the table and draws your attention. He’s staring at you with thinly veiled amusement, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You scowl and take a large bite of your toast before swallowing what's in your mouth, feeling heat bloom in your cheeks and neck. 

Yoongi is none the wiser, chewing happily on his fruit as he scratches Tiara under her chin. She chirps like a bird and purrs like a cat, letting out small curls of smoke everytime she puffs happily. 

Your mouth twitches in a smile as you look at your plate, happy to be back with them. 

“I want you to come to the Dream Tower with me today,” Yoongi ventures lightly. You snap your gaze up in surprise. He looks casual, as though he’s not offering you to come to the place he works, filled with magic and dreams. “I think you could help me.”

“Me?”

His mouth quirks. “Is there another human prone to trouble around here that I’m not aware of?” 

“I thought you blamed yourself?”

“So I do. But yes - you.” 

“How do you want me to help?”

Yoongi grins as he pops another piece of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You’ll see.” 

Despite your excitement and the promise of a look inside  Yoongi’s lair, even him asking for your help doesn’t earn you a break from daily reading and writing lessons. When Yoongi gestures to the assigned work on your desk, you throw him a severe look followed by a pout. As endeared as he seems, he is unwavering, patting your desk chair as he walks by. 

You’re not really mad. You fall into an easy calm as you sit down and scoot up toward the desk. The fire is low and crackling in the fireplace today and the library smells faintly of cardamom as you work. Tiara flights around the second story of the room, chittering and following Yoongi - who seems to be organizing the shelves. 

Taehyung vanishes to do whatever it is he does during the day. You’re not even sure if it’s day in your world. You hope he will take you to The Desert Rose again to see Jimin and to drink cider. You love the warmth of the crowd and the loud bustle. 

The House of Dreams is quiet. 

Time slips as you work. You lose yourself in swirling letters and short reading passages, so much so that when there is a tingling presence near your shoulder, you flinch, ripping your quill across the page and splattering ink. 

Yoongi tsks and apologizes, grabbing an ink stained cloth to wipe the spilled liquid from the desk. His proximity makes your head spin, the edge of his hips grazing your shoulder as he leans over you to clean the mess you’ve made. 

Mouth drying, you drop the quill and flex your hand, coughing out an apology as you try to organize your thoughts that spill like the ink on the desk at his nearness. 

Being away from him almost made you forget how dizzying his presence could be. Yoongi regards your work in silence, but all you can focus on is the measured sound of his breathing, the warmth radiating from him, the curve of his mouth, the juice running down his-

“Ready?”

“What?” you ask, blinking and looking up at him owlishly. He gazes down at you, cocking a brow. It’s obvious he had asked you a question. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening?” 

“What were you doing?”

“... Staring.”

“At?”

“The wall?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” he questions, his voice laced with teasing. 

You scowl and shove your chair backward into his stomach, knocking him back. He lets out a loud oof and a bit of laughter as you stand and stretch, hyperaware that he’s been in a rather cheeky mood since breakfast. 

Together, you begin your walk to the tower. Tiara comes along, jumping up on Yoongi’s shoulder and curling herself around him like a scarf, her tail wrapped gently around his neck. She regards you with distaste and her tongue flickers out to taste the air, a curl of smoke escaping her nose as she huffs.

Fighting the urge to stick your tongue out at a dragon, you opt to walk in comfortable silence. 

As you do, your thoughts inevitably drift to the night before and the dream that didn’t feel like a dream. For the most part, you feel like you can tell when you’re dreaming. There’s always an opaque feeling to your dreams, something a little off. 

Now, you’re worried that perhaps you can’t tell the difference. You think that maybe you should ask Yoongi if he can help you tell the difference between being awake and dreaming, but your desire to ask is stopped as you reach the foot of stairs you’ve never climbed before. 

Yoongi looks down at you as he begins ascending, giving you a gummy smile that sends your pulse galloping after him. You curse your traitor heart, trying to remember what Taehyung said to you about the relationship between dreams and humans. It could never work. But… you’re here. In Yoongi’s home, and you don’t know how long you’re allowed to stay - if you’re ever supposed to go back again.

Both of you seem to completely ignore that you were brought back to the dream realm ahead of schedule, that maybe going back is no longer an option. 

There are doors leading to rooms as you ascend the stairs. Yoongi ignores all of them in favor of climbing up, up, and up. Your calves burn by the time you make it to the top, pausing to catch your breath and sweep your eyes across the large, circular room. 

It’s stunning. Glancing up, your mouth falls open in surprise when you see that there is no ceiling, but a mass of writhing cosmos and something like a night sky. The nebulous display casts a lavender and blue glow on the room below, the two-tone light shifting and moving. 

There are all manner of things in the room. Tables covered in papers, rich rugs with different designs, chairs and bookshelves and curiosity cabinets and glass cases full of glowing things that you cannot identify. Tiara hops off of Yoongi’s shoulder and floats on small wings toward a pile of blankets, twigs, and leaves that looks like a nest.

What demands your attention most, though, is the massive stone dais in the room, with a stone column about waist high with something that looks like a bowl carved into the top. From where you stand, you can see there’s liquid in the bowl that moves and shimmers with its own glow. Occasionally, a sparkle or wisp of color drifts from the cool surface.

Energy vibrates in the air. You can feel it like a static on your skin and taste it like a buzz on your tongue. You’re drawn to the dais, taking a step forward and halting. It feels like a hum shivers through you. You look at Yoongi, questioning. 

“The dream pool,” he answers, as though you have any idea what that is. 

He walks toward it and looks back at you, hesitating before he offers a hand. Excitement shoots through you as you take his hand and he pulls you toward it. Your hand tingles where you hold his. Even when you reach the dais and he lets go, there’s pins and needles left behind. 

“This is where I help create dreams for those who can’t do it on their own.” 

The liquid in the basin brightens as Yoongi steps up close. You watch as a watercolor of lights splashes across his face. He looks down into the bowl lovingly, a soft smile on his face, and so much adoration in his eyes that you find yourself watching him instead of the magical water in the bowl. 

“This room is full of things that help inspire dreams. I make everything myself but Taehyung likes to help - he likes to decorate and fill the room with items that inspire creativity.”

“Somehow I think dream personified doesn’t need it.”

He shoots you a grin. “You’d be surprised. Come look.”

Tentatively, you step up next to him. You’re aware of how close you stand, his sleeves brushing yours as he places a hand on the basin. It comes up to your stomach and is two feet in diameter. The water looks so much deeper than you thought. You’re unable to see the bottom, an illusion that makes you dizzy.

Like the sky above, the water shimmers and moves with its own set of stars and colors. It feels alive, like whatever power is in the dream pool recognizes you and wakes up, spinning as you look into the glittering surface. 

“I can feel and hear people dream,” Yoongi explains. “It’s like a frequency that I can tap into. I can turn it on and off at a whim. Those who don’t struggle to dream are so much quieter than those who cannot dream. I listen for those who cannot, and I come here and focus on them in my mind’s eye before creating them a dream. I pour in thoughts, feelings, scents, sounds, memories and the like into this bowl. I think it, and so it appears.” 

“How?”

“What you’d call magic. Really it’s just divine power. This is a part of me,” he says, tapping the rim of the basin. “Just like dreams are.”

“How can I help you do… this?” you ask, gesturing wildly to the water.

Yoongi’s smile is angelic. “You have the raw capability of a dreamer. Someone who dreams so powerfully and loudly that it can’t help but catch my attention.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your imagination and your ability to come up with things is more innate than most people. You’re an innovator, a great conjurer of stories and fantasies. It’s a rare gift in humans. Some call you Spinners - you can spin dreams up just as easily as I can, with practice, but you cannot do so without a tool like this basin.” 

“A spinner.” You remember the night before, hearing the word on Taehyung’s lips. “Are there others?” 

He nods. “Under fifty in the entire world. I believe you’ve met another one. He’s the one Taehyung visits.”

“Jimin?” 

“Mhmm. He’s like you. You have no power though, not in your world. Just raw ability.”

“So if I were to use this… pool of dreams, I could give people dreams.”

He nods, smiling. You smile back at him, his happiness infectious. You like the way his eyes crinkle when he grins broadly at you, the way his cheeks tint pink. It is strange to think that this soft man in front of you is also the same dark, powerful god who has swept in to save you, whose voice haunts your dreams and whose phantom touch lingers in all of the places that it shouldn’t. 

Licking his lips and rolling his shoulders, Yoongi takes his stance at the basin. You watch, fascinated as he sweeps a hand over the surface, not touching the water. It ripples an entire rainbow of colors, casting shadows on his face when he peers down into the water as the surface smoothes out like a mirror. 

An opaque image materializes on the surface. You watch as Yoongi concentrates. Slowly, things begin appearing. A cerulean ocean, waves rolling gently against a sandy beach. Foam clings to the sand. Starfish of every color - blue, green, red - begin to dot the beach. A gull cries above, so clear it feels like you’re there. Then you smell it - the salt, the brine. The subtle scent of driftwood. A breeze blows against your face, carrying the cool ocean mist. 

You let out a laugh as Yoongi smiles, his eyes never leaving the images unfolding in the basin. You watch as a dolphin crests a wave, earning a gasp from you. You’ve never seen a dolphin, only heard about them in passing from fishermen from the coast. They spray water high into the air as they break the waves, moving smoothly through glittering waters. 

It feels so real and warm, the dream bright and full of hope. Happiness. Excitement. You feel what Yoongi pours into the basin, your toes curling as though you can feel hot sand beneath your feet. 

“The trick,” Yoongi explains carefully, “Is imagining everything that would make it feel real. It can’t be just what you see. It has to be what you hear, what you feel, what you smell, what emotions you evoke. You have to do all of these things at once - you have to believe in them all at once. Dreams about real things are the easiest. More complex dreams can include anything you can imagine that humans believe to be fake: dragons, brownies, griffons.” 

“How do you know what to give?” 

“You feel it. Place your hand on the side.” 

Carefully, you lift your hand to the side of the dream pool. You hesitate and look up at Yoongi, eyes wide. He gives you an encouraging nod. You place your hand on the bowl, feeling the warm stone. 

A pulse of energy flows through you. You gasp, flinching a little as you feel the basin come alive under your touch. You close your eyes as sensations flood you: hopelessness, stress, exhaustion. Suddenly, Yoongi’s dream makes sense. He instills a sense of peace and serenity at the beach, of hope and wonder with the dolphins, of rest with the cool wind and warm sand. 

“Amazing,” you breathe, eyes still closed. “This is wonderful.” 

“I’ll do some more. Keep your hand where it is. You’ll feel what it is they feel. Try not to think too hard about anything while you’re connected - let me do the work.” 

Watching Yoongi work can happen with your eyes closed, you realize. You lose yourself in time and space. No longer are you in the Dream Tower. Now, Yoongi walks you through the world.

You enter through dreams, feeling sudden sadness or loss, even heartache. Every dream you encounter, there is profound suffering at the beginning. Yoongi gently sends the pain on its way, observes what each dreamer needs, and begins spinning up images. Sounds. Feelings. 

Rain falls on your face as you stand over the tops of a misty forest. It’s gentle and cool to the touch, soothing. You smell pine and damp earth, giving you energy. Your toes feel the wet grass beneath you, grounding you and making you feel more centered than you ever have.

Wheat brushes the tips of your fingers. You look out into a sea of gold, healthy crops bending with the wind. An azure sky stretches mile after mile, not a cloud in sight as the sun heats your skin. You smell fresh air and hear the grasshoppers buzz among the fresh stalks of wheat, feeling the reward of growing healthy grain. 

A dog runs after a ball. The hills are the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen, the dog dashing up the hill and barking loudly. You feel laughter bubble up your throat and unfettered joy as thick clouds float by. The dog grabs the ball and runs back, its tail wagging and coat shiny. You feel nostalgic and happy to be reunited with a friend. 

Fireflies flicker to life in a forest at night. They alight on the tree branches and your arms, casting gold luminescence on your skin. You marvel at them, spinning in a circle as you look at the dark trees. You smell the maple sap and the bark, you hear the crickets.

It’s just like the woods near your house -

Your house. 

A slice of fear goes through you. You remember the darkness of the woods as Nathaniel tried to drown you, the press of his fingers into your skull. The roaring of the flooding water and the burning of your lungs. The fireflies flicker out one by one and the darkness begins to grow. You’re suddenly terrified. Curiosity vanishes and is replaced with deep fear. 

You taste stale water in your mouth. You smell the smoke of your burning house. You feel water rushing up to your ankles and inching higher, you hear the screams of Nathaniel’s vitriol, you feel your lungs start to fill, the air stars to leave, the roots of the trees grab at your feet-

A sharp yank pulls you out of the forest. You gasp for air, falling backward off of the dais and onto the floor. Gentle hands cradle your face and you hear a deep voice calling out to you, speaking your name through the dull roar in your ears. 

Blinking, you look upward to see Yoongi inches away from your face. His eyes are round and gentle, his hands steady. Warm. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips as he leans over you. A strand of dark hair escapes his bun, falling across his forehead and eye. You don’t know why, but you think it looks dashing. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, searching your face. “Are you with me?” 

“Yeah,” you rasp, lungs heaving. “What happened?” 

His thumb brushes back and forth across your cheek as he sighs, but he doesn’t let go of your face. “You thought of the night that I saved you. Your fear was powerful. Raw. As you started to remember things you grew more afraid and you took over the dream.”

You blink once. Twice. Remember the way that the fireflies suddenly flickered out and how the water started to rush in from nowhere. “I did that?” 

“I didn’t expect you to be such a natural. I had a feeling but… you caught me by surprise and shoved me out.”

“I can do that?”

“When I’m caught off guard, yes. You took control of creating the dream and turned it into…”

“A nightmare.”

He nods. “It’s my fault. I didn’t think you would think that forest looked the same, but I was wrong. I keep… having oversights. I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Being human.” 

Silence suspends between you. You’re sprawled on the floor of the Dream Tower with Yoongi hovering over you. His knees are pressed against your hips and his shirt collar is hanging low as he leans, revealing more skin than you’ve ever seen from him. You don’t dare drop your eyes from his, staring at their dark depths.

The space between you is minimal and neither of you move. You hope he cannot hear the way your heart hammers in your chest or sense the way your body crackles like lightning, sparking at his proximity. The nightmare you made is long forgotten, replaced with his touch, his smell, his closeness. 

Yoongi holds your face delicately, like a treasured item. You cannot imagine that he means to hold you so, but the sudden want that licks through you is powerful, your desire for him to hold you like you’re something precious surprising you in its strength. 

“You make me want to get better at it.” His voice is soft, barely even a whisper. 

“At what?”

A gentle laugh. “Being human. It is unfamiliar, but I wish to know more of what it's like. To have more of the instinct.”

“Why?”

He pauses. “Because I’ve lived for thousands of years, and never really had the chance to try.” 

It is a similar sentiment that Taehyung had shared. The thought of Taehyung makes you smile, sitting up suddenly. Yoongi leans back on his haunches quickly, careful not to knock heads. “What?” he asks, noting your sudden excitement. 

“Has Taehyung ever taken you to the Desert Rose?”

“No, I can’t say I’ve been interested. Why?”

You grab his hand. You notice the way he seems surprised, but he doesn’t pull away as you scramble to your feet. “You want to see what it’s like to be human. I know a place.” 

-

Yoongi makes a face as he sips the beer Taehyung has thrust into his hands. You and Taehyung laugh, tossing your heads back with it. Yoongi looks unimpressed but continues to drink nonetheless, his dark eyes scanning the crowded bar. 

He sticks out like a sore thumb. Eyes are immediately drawn to Yoongi wherever he goes. You think everyone must feel the divinity as he walks by them, his power a magnet for attention. Even sitting at the table with you and Taehyung, tucked near the door, people turn in their seats to get a good look at him or pause when they enter the Desert Rose. 

It doesn’t help that he looks beautiful. Air had gotten stuck in your throat when he arrived at the library at the appointed time to meet you and Taehyung to come here. His hair hangs in soft waves around his face, earrings peaking between inky strands when he moves his head. His dark shirt is long-sleeved but unbuttoned at the throat, revealing a strip of pale, smooth skin and his layered necklaces. His eyes are glittering tonight, almost like constellations are held within. 

Yoongi is the night. The black pants and black boots paired with the shirt make him look like a dark prince. Perhaps the son of the moon, even. You notice the way the stares turn from curious to hungry, Yoongi lighting a fire among those around him. 

Jealousy sours your stomach. You hate that it does, but it’s like a second instinct, some sort of possessive monster rearing its head as you avert your gaze when a beautiful man asks Yoongi if he wants to dance. Yoongi shakes his head, giving a polite smile in return before turning away and chugging more of his drink.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous. 

“Thousands of years old and a room full of people scares you,” Taehyung teases, confirming your suspicions. Yoongi’s gaze is thin as a razor. “You should get out more. I’ve been telling you that.”

“Eternals don’t make a habit of walking around the human realm. Our presence disturbs the natural chemistry of the world.”

“Then why did you spend so many days in the wood-”

Yoongi kicks Taehyung under the table. He hollers in pain as Yoongi glowers, making you giggle. Though he’s no natural among the crowd, you can see that he’s trying to fit in. He watches the way people slouch in their chair and he imitates it. Drinks more of his beer, not because of the taste but because it's what people do here. 

Music thrums in the room. There is a crowd of people clapping their hands and dancing, stomping their feet along to the music. You nervously look at Yoongi throughout the night, trying to see if he’s enjoying himself, wondering what he thinks of the place. 

A couple near your table knocks over a pitcher of mead as the man presses the woman into the table in an arduous kiss. You can’t help but watch for a moment, entranced by the way he kisses her as though he’ll die if he doesn’t, as if her lips are the last thing he wants to remember. 

Sensing Yoongi’s gaze on you, you glance at him. He stares at you, drinking you in before his eyes drift to the couple you’d been studying. Embarrassment heats your face as you bring your cup to your lips, hiding behind the tankard as you take large gulps of cider. 

The cider takes the edge off. It makes you feel warm and loose, though you’re still a little nervous with Yoongi’s quiet countenance sitting beside you. 

“Jimin’s here!” you announce excitedly, clapping your hands together when he appears downstairs. Taehyung’s knee bumps into the bottom of the table as he jerks to turn around. “Jimin should meet Yoongi!”

“I would love to.” 

Taehyung groans. “No, please.”

“Why not?” Yoongi demands. “Should I not meet the human that brings my friend here most evenings? Should I not meet the friend of my -” Yoongi looks at you and stumbles over his words. “- my friend?” 

Friend. You’re not sure if the word fits, exactly. But you don’t know what else it is that Yoongi would call you. Friend implies something beyond acquaintances, which you are sure you are. But it fits like an ill-sized dress, hanging crooked on your frame.

“I don’t want you to scare him off!” Taehyung protests. 

Yoongi looks dubious. “Why would I do that?”

“Shut up,” you hiss as Jimin notices you. You lift your hand in an eager wave, beckoning him over. “Yoongi, be nice.”

“I am nice. Do you think I’m not nice?” 

Instead of answering him, you get up to greet Jimin warmly with a chaste kiss on the cheek and a brief hug. When you step back, you see Yoongi’s burning gaze, a tick in his jaw as he stares Jimin down, tonguing his cheek. You hiss at Yoongi and snap your finger to signal for him to drop the severe expression. 

He looks at you and his features smooth out as he rises to his feet lithely, reaching an arm around you. Yoongi startles you when he places his hand on your mid-back as he leans forward to shake Jimin’s, introducing himself. 

The contact is so brief that you wonder if he had done it at all as he sits down. For a moment, you’re the only one standing, staring at Yoongi in confusion as the three men sit. They all look at you expectantly and you plop down suddenly. 

“Are you alright?” Jimin asks, mirth evident in his voice.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, still recovering. It felt like a deliberate touch. Firm, but gentle. Polite, but… something. “How are you?” 

To your pleasure - and Taehyung’s evident relief - Yoongi and Jimin get along fine. If Jimin is put off by Yoongi’s peculiarity, he doesn’t show it. You wonder if he’s used to being around Taehyung, who has his own strange charm and inhuman energy vibrating around him. 

Yoongi says little, but seems comfortable. You watch him as he watches Taehyung, who has stars in his eyes every time he looks at Jimin. He leans closer to Jimin as they mutter about something conspiratorially, giggling behind their hands. Jimin brushes a strand of hair out of Taehyung’s face and the love that blooms in Taehyung’s expression is so evident that you wonder if Jimin knows. He has to know. And he looks like he feels the same. 

When Jimin drags Taehyung up to dance, you encourage them, shooing them off toward the growing crowd of people spinning around the room. Tables are shoved out of the way, chairs scraping to make room for the revelers. You move your chair some as your table is pushed, making the beers tilt dangerously. 

Yoongi grabs the leg of your chair and pulls it roughly toward him. Before you can say something, someone stumbles where your chair just was, toppling into the table next to you. You look at Yoongi with shock and he winks before returning to lounging in his seat, watching the crowd. 

Now that you’re sitting much closer to him, you can smell him. Still, you try to relax, watching as Jimin teaches Taehyung the steps to the dance the crowd is doing. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Yoongi says over the loud voices. “This is nice. I see why Taehyung likes it.”

“You don’t hate it?” He makes a face and you laugh. “Yoongi, you hate it.”

“It’s a bit loud, but I don’t hate it. I like the quiet. I like… solitude. But not always. This is a good break.” 

“So you never just… stroll among the people sometimes?”

“Never had a reason to.”

“But how can you make dreams if you don’t know people?”

“Dreams are inherent to me. They are an instinct. They aren’t born from people. They’re born from something rawer than that. People just happen to dream.” 

You hum, not sure that you follow. Silence lulls between you as the song changes. “This place is so different from anywhere I’ve been,” you tell him. “My mother and father would have hated a place like this where people want so freely and people are so… provocative.”

“Life is provocative. So is nature, and magic. And dreams.” 

“Is that why you’re a god of desire, too?” He nods once, his eyes on you. “Can you… sense what people innately desire? All the time?” 

You don’t ask the real question, which is: Can you tell what I desire when I’m with you? Still, Yoongi shrugs a shoulder. “Snippets. LIke I said, I try not to pry. I don’t think that anyone here needs to be inspired by me to delve into what they want here, that’s for sure.” His eyes darken. “Though perhaps there is one.”

It is not your imagination when he says it. You know that he means you. This you are sure of. You stare at Yoongi, the rest of the room fading away. He stares right back at you, as though willing you to agree, or to deny his claim. Your heart speeds up and you feel the sweat on your neck, the slick on your palms. 

“You said you’d help me indulge.” Your voice shakes when you say it. “How… do I do that?”

Yoongi’s mouth kicks up at the side. He leans forward and offers you a hand. When you just stare at it, he laughs. “Dance with me.”

“Dancing? That is indulging?” 

“You might be surprised.” 

Tension goes taught between you. You feel it sizzling in the air as you stare one another down. Yoongi’s hand remains outstretched, beckoning. Slowly, you put the cup of cider down and slide your hand into his. You’ve done this so many times, letting him lead you somewhere or help you up. 

When Yoongi grips your hand and pulls you to your feet, it feels different than all the times before. The soft, gentle Eternal of dreams has melted away and left something sharper. Darker. Edgier. Your heart flutters butterfly-fast as he leads you to where there are people spinning in tight circles on the floor. 

Yoongi yanks you toward him, pulling you into his chest. One hand loops over his shoulder, your palm cradling the back of his neck, while the other grips his. His hand goes snuggling around your waist, pulling you firmly to him as he ducks his head toward your ear, voice deep and soft as he whispers, “Follow me.” 

You would follow him anywhere, you think. Anywhere at all. 

Dancing is not something you ever recall doing. It wasn’t necessary where you grew up. Most of your festivals in town were a reserved affair and you’d never been to any parties or celebrations. Most weddings were stiff and formal, and not for merriment as much as respect. 

Now, your world turns into a kaleidoscope of color and laughter. Yoongi spins you around the room, his feet smooth and fast. You stumble to keep up at first, but Yoongi is a confident lead, his steps instructing yours, his hands pulling and guiding you as you go. 

Laughter rushes out of you. You cannot help the glee that glitters in your veins. Yoongi’s laughter is like spilled moonlight. You look up at him with a grin, seeing his gummy smile as he dips you suddenly, making you squeal. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You know he won’t drop you but the exhilaration is in your veins as he lifts you back up, crushing you to him. 

Your arms and legs burn with effort as you continue. The song changes and Yoongi lets go and spins you. You go crashing into Taehyung’s arms. He’s a far worse dancer than Yoongi, and the two of you are a mess of tripped feet, trilling laughter and elbows into ribs. He pushes you back to Yoongi’s waiting arms. 

It terrifies you how much it feels like home, like a key sliding into a lock. Your arms go around him as his hands squeeze your waist. You come alive where you touch, looking up at him. He watches you, the shadow of his lashes framing delicate eyes. His mouth is red and soft. 

Yoongi’s eyes dart down to your mouth. Your breath catches and he moves a little closer, pressing his head to yours, noses brushing. The entire world vanishes and it’s just Yoongi, his lips so close you can almost taste them, his fingers digging into your hips. 

Your eyes flutter shut just as someone crashes into you. You scream as you’re knocked hard into Yoongi, the two of you stumbling as he catches you from falling over completely. The crowd goes wild with laughter as a man is sprawled on the ground, laughing and drunk, having lost his balance. 

A breathless laugh escapes you as you and Yoongi straighten, separating a little. The moment between you is shattered, clattering away like pieces of broken glass as you catch your breath and gather your wits. You look around, searching for Taehyung only to see him alone at your table, eyes heavy and gaze lingering across the room. You turn to see Jimin leaning on the bar, smiling at something a woman is whispering in his ear. 

Glancing back at Taehyung, you see him shove away from the table and storm out the door. Yoongi notices this too, but he’s slow on the uptake, his hand still on your hip. You shake off his hold on you and go after Taehyung, shouting his name.

Taehyung is just outside the Desert Rose, head tilted down and shoulders pulled up tight around his ears. When you touch the small of his back, he flinches, gazing at you with tear-stained eyes and a look so crestfallen you feel your heart crack.

He sniffs. “This is why,” he whispers. “This is why I told you we can never be. Humans and dreams - we aren’t. We don’t match.” 

“Taehyung,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say. You open your arms and he leans into you, folding in half as he sobs, breaking down into your shoulder. You hush him gently, holding him tight and squeezing him, trying to pour your love into him. 

Over Taehyung’s shoulder, your gaze settles on Yoongi. He watches the two of you in silence, face impassive. And your heart breaks a little more, realizing the truth of Taehyung’s words. 

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[jeonscatalyst]

Did anything about jikooks (or vminkook if that interests you) dynamic surprise you in are you sure? I think the extent of JK's brattiness and their play-fighting did surprise me a little. I think it's because I haven't been following them beyond the music that much in solo era. Also if I compare vminkooks dynamic from say that joint live in 2021 or the live incl Hobi (in 2022 I think?), I think it's a little bit different from what we're seeing in the show. If I think about it, it does check out in many ways with regards to what they've told us but I don't think it's something we've seen this plainly before

Hey anon,

Nothing about Jikook’ or Vminkook’s dynamic surprised me much, infact I would say the boys haven’t changed at all. Jungkook has always been bratty. Literally all the members have complained about him being bratty and stubborn and as for the play-fighting (I am assuming you are talking about Jikook) that has literally always been their thing. Someone described Jikook’s dynamic as a mix of all the other duo dynamics in BTS and now I really cannot unsee it. They playfight like jinkook, bicker like yoonmin, are soft with each other like Namkook, are besties like taekook and are caring towards each other like Jihope. There is literally a mix of everything in their dynamic and that is one of the reasons why Jikook are so difficult to explain as a duo. I personally don’t have any trouble understanding the other duo dynamics of BTS but Jikook still challenges me sometimes.

It was definitely kinda new to see them bicker so much, I mean we had seen them bicker before but the other members were usually in the mix so just seeing them bicker about parking was kinda new but not really surprising to me.

As for taekook, I didn’t see anything about their dynamic that surprised me at all. They are the duo who know how to have maximum fun when they are together as they have so many things in common when it comes to personal interests so it is extremely easy for them to be in sync but they also have moments where they could come off a bit nonchalant towards each other (but this is very normal) and I have seen so many people say they have a passive aggressive energy about them but I don’t see it personally. I just think that Jungkook sometimes has his moments you know, when he doesn’t really feel like being enthusiastic about anyone (Jimin included) and Tae isn’t like Jimin who will still try to initiate interactions when Jk gets in that mood but instead Tae just kinda ignores as well or throws in some snarky comments and maybe that is why people see some passive aggressiveness but generally I think they have gotten much closer than they were a few years ago and even their emotional bond seems to have deepened a little more than before.

For Vminkook’s dynamic, I think it is pretty much the same to be honest. Like I said before, Jungkook has his bratty and soft moments with both of them and Vmin are still the two hyungs who dote on him but call him out in their own way when he starts going too far. Jungkook has a very different dynamic with both of them and it is seen more when he is with the two of them (or atleast I noticed it more). I had always known but just seeing it in play out in AYS was….interesting. I think with Tae, Jk really enjoys just doing the fun boy stuff. They both look their happiest around each other when they are bringing out the childishness out of each other and I can see why they easily connected when they were rookies. One person starts something and the other very easily goes along with it, no question asked. They are also a good example of dumb and dumber or the blind leading the blind because it seems like between the two of them, no one is the voice of reason and we all crave people who we can just be extremely silly with without overthinking anything and I guess that is what taekook are to each other and that is why Tae can call Jk and ask him to join him in Hawaii and Jk takes a 9 hour flight there, you know just for the fun of it. Unlike what taekookers would like to believe, it isn’t because Jk is in love with tae or none of that. If I had a bestie whom I usually have alot of fun with when we are together and we both like the same things and I had Jungkook money and time, I will do the exact same thing. But, just as I had said before, it just feels like the foundation of their friendship is mostly centered around the fun and shared interests, not much else. They ofcourse really care for each other and are supportive of each other as well. I thought it was extremely sweet how Jungkook immediately climbed that wall to encourage Tae when Tae was scared to jump. Those are some of the moments that show just how they get each other and how much they care about each other. Taekook as bestfriends works so well but I don’t see them working out as romantic partners and I also understand why they don’t seem to be each other’s go to person for comfort. This is because they are way too alike. They both are naturally takers so they need givers for things to balance out. That is why at some point, they both sought out comfort from Jimin who is a a natural giver and not from each other.

Jimin and Jungkook are kinda different here because even though those two also have alot of fun with each other, Jimin is actually very different from Jungkook. He isn’t as spontaneous and he thinks about everything way too much. He also likes to have a schedule or plan things out before he executes them but Jungkook takes everyday as it comes and doesn’t seem to think about things too much so because of this, Jimin is like the voice of reason but sometimes Jungkook doesn’t want a voice of reason, he just wants adventure. A good example of this is that episode from I land where Jungkook stole TXT’s food from the pantry. He was in there with Tae and while he was stealing the food, Tae just went along with it and didn’t say anything but instead just found the whole thing funny but immediately Jk went outside with the food and Jimin saw him, Jimin (as well as the other members) asked him to return the food and they even scolded him (Jimin included lol). This is how Tae and Jk are partners in crime because they both readily go along with each other’s mischief but Jimin is that voice of reason that Jk needs because Jk is very impressionable (he said it himself) so if he doesn’t have some Jimins in his life, he could easily go astray. Even though Jikook are so different, they still are so alike and they click and just get each other so well and I don’t even know how to explain it. It seems to me like they are the definition of opposites attract, ying and yang. Jimin has the light that Jk needs and Jk has the darkness Jimin craves, they balance each other out, they give each other what the other lacks, they complement each other completely. Their bond in my opinion is definitely deeper as the foundation of it much more than the fun they have when they are together. There is an underlying intimacy in their play that isn’t there in taekook’s too. While taekook just play around like 5 year olds without a care in the world, splashing around in pools or shooting at each other with water guns, there is a subtle intimacy and softness in the way Jikook play around and they are definitely more handsy with each other too. This is pretty much everything I already knew about them and it is exactly the same thing I saw so I don’t really think anything was surprising or maybe just how much Jikook can bicker, if I had to pick something lol.

So anon, I have written a ton even though you probably just wanted a shorter answer but I couldn’t help myself lol. I have a problem not expatiating as much as I can. I hope this answers your question though and if u don’t mind, I would love to hear what you thought was different about Vminkook’s dynamic from 2021/2022 and now. I don’t really think we can compare from those moments you mentioned but I’d really love to hear or read your thoughts.

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."

Warning: Intolerance, toxic religion, parental relationship, Jungkook taking off his clothes 😮‍💨🤲 very dumb reader.

A/N: This is my first fanfic on Tumblr and my first BTS one. I know, it's embarrassing. The story isn't that great, and it probably shouldn't be the first one I post here, but the characters took on a life of their own without my consent, and I've been writing this since 2022 (fuck), so here we are. Please keep in mind that English is not my first language and that the reader is extremely annoying. See you on the next chapter! Thank You.

Next Chapter

Chapter 1

I organize the things from the bazaar as I go through the accessories spread out on the table. It's a calm easy task and I've done it more than a thousand times, so even with my eyes closed the job is done masterfully. My mother is next to me, quietly, listening to music on an old radio that she refuses to throw away. It seems that, since it's a radio she got as a teenager, the object has a deep meaning for her and she doesn't even like the thought of exchanging it for something more modern. I hum along too, trying to tune my voice in some parts where the music gets harder and the notes get higher.

Usually on the weekends, every Sunday, my mother and I go to church and the bazaar after the service, to raise money and help the pastor's project. Pastor Leen is a good man and always helps everyone in need, so this semester, during these last months of the year, he has been focusing on the animals that live on the streets. Everyone in the community who goes to church participates and helps in whatever way they can, whether through donations or fundraising, like my mother and I do. That’s why we gathered some clothes and items for the church bazaar, and with the sales, we can do our part. It's exhausting, but rewarding in the end.

During the week, I study at the university in my town and work at the library, so there's not much time for rest, but I like having a busy life. Although I know that, for some people, my idea of a busy life might not seem busy at all. At twenty-one, I’m supposedly supposed to be somewhere else in the world, enjoying my youth and partying with my friends, but strangely, I never wanted that. Whether it’s because of my mother, who always instructed me not to follow that path, or because I’m just introverted, I’ve never gone to parties or had adventures that I could look back on later. The most out-of-the-ordinary thing I've ever done was drink beer when I was eighteen and regret it the next day, feeling guilty for being influenced by a friend.

I’ve never left this town. I’ve never dated. I’ve never been to a party. I haven’t done many memorable things in life. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll regret not having these experiences someday, but I’m so tied to the way I live my life that it’s hard to change, even just a little. Habits are hard to break, whether for better or worse. I’m pulled from my thoughts when the store door opens and Mrs. Jeon walks in with a smile on her face and two heavy bags in her hands. I quickly get up intending to help her, but my mother is faster.

“Good morning, Eunji,” Mrs. Jeon greets my mother, letting out a relieved sigh as the weight of one of the bags is lifted from her hands. “Good morning, Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Jeon. How has your week been?” I ask, taking the other bag from her. I peek inside and notice that it’s full of men’s clothes, judging by the size and the predominantly dark colors.

“Radiant, actually. My son arrived in town last night,” she says, her smile widening. I’m surprised because I didn’t know she had a son. Mrs. Jeon moved to town six years ago, and I don’t recall any son visiting her or her mentioning him. This is the first time she’s spoken about it, at least in front of me.

“Your son, Jungkook?” my mother asks, curious, and our neighbor nods, still beaming. “Doesn’t he live in Seoul?”

“Yes, he does. But he’s been expanding his business, and I invited him to visit, and coincidentally, he decided to open a branch here,” she explains, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. My mother instantly flashes a smile. An interested smile that I know all too well.

Of course, because I’ve never dated, my mother is always trying to set me up with someone. Not that I want her to. I never asked her to make all this effort, much less to convince the church ladies to introduce their sons just because I’m single. It’s embarrassing, as if I’m not capable of finding someone on my own without my mother’s help, but she doesn’t listen, even when I had an honest conversation with her asking her to stop trying to play Cupid.

"What kind of business?" my mother asks, and I try not to roll my eyes. For a woman of God, she worries way too much about money and status. It's a controversial topic that has led to arguments between us in the past.

"He's a tattoo artist. He owns a tattoo studio in Seoul," Mrs. Jeon explains with a proud smile, and my mother's face immediately turns serious. The charm of a potential son-in-law is lost. Of course, no one is ever perfect enough for her—or for me, in her eyes.

I love my mother. She’s strong, and many times I look up to her when making important decisions, but she judges people too harshly. Ever since she joined the church when I was younger, she’s changed. She changed her clothes, the way she speaks, and even her thoughts. I can’t even remember what she was like before, and even though all these changes were a support for her after my father passed away, some aspects of the situation still bothers me. The fact that she believes people are going to hell just for having different opinions and ideas is one of them. Of course, I don’t argue with her about it and rarely express my point of view. If she knew how I really thought, I’d be a princess locked in her room, with no peace and even less freedom than I already have at home.

"He's a tattoo artist?" my neighbor nods, not noticing the bitter tone in my mother's voice. I decide to step in, anticipating some sharp comment from the woman beside me.

"Mrs. Jeon, thank you so much for the clothes and for your help. Just today we had three customers, and the clothes you donated sold very quickly," I interject, changing the subject. The tension in my shoulders eases as my neighbor shifts her focus to the bag in my hands.

"Oh, no need to thank me. I want to do as much as I can to help the animals. I adopted a puppy last week and I’m in love!" she says, placing her hands on her cheeks with joy, and I can’t help but smile. Mrs. Jeon is one of the few older people from the church that I enjoy talking to.

"What’s his name?"

"Gureum. He’s an angel," she says, forming the small size of the puppy with her hands.

"Gureum? Don’t tell me he’s all white," I guess, laughing at the name.

"He is!" she laughs with me, jingling the keys in her hand. "Anyway, I hope we get plenty of donations this month. I can't wait to see the results of our work."

"That’s true, Misuk. This month the winter will be harsher, so we have to act more quickly this year," my mother continues, and the conversation shifts to the church project. I feel more relieved as the minutes pass and Mrs. Jeon leaves. Not because of her, of course, but because of the situation itself. My mother is very straightforward and usually says what she thinks, no matter who it hurts. I don’t want my relationship with our neighbor to be ruined just because my mother doesn’t know how to hold her tongue.

"Did you hear what she said?" Eunji asks, her eyes wide, one hand on her chest as if she’s deeply shocked. "Her son is a tattoo artist! Do you think he has those awful marks all over his body?"

"Probably, Mom," I sigh, trying to focus on the clothes Mrs. Jeon just brought. "And Mom, don’t talk like that. She’s our neighbor."

"Even so! Y/N, that only happens when parents don’t know how to properly guide their children. How can a mother, who goes to church, let her son go down such a horrible path in life?"

"We don’t know how her son lives, and it’s none of our business, Mom!" I try to keep calm as I fold a large black T-shirt, but then I remember that before organizing the items, we have to wash them, and I couldn’t be happier about that.

Usually, the clothes are washed at our house, and my mother still has to stay at the bazaar for a while longer. Honestly, I don’t want to be around her listening to how good of a mother she was just because I go to church and don’t have a tattoo on my arm. It irritates me, and it’s hard not to let her notice, but for the sake of peace, I try my best, nodding and agreeing with all the nonsense she says.

"Mom, I’m going to take all these things home and get everything ready for the bazaar, okay?" I try to force a smile, but my face feels stiff. My head is throbbing, and I can’t wait to get home. I’ve been out of my room all day, and there’s nothing more exhausting than that, at least for me. She murmurs in agreement, probably annoyed that she can't keep talking badly about Mrs. Jeon’s son, but I don’t care and just leave.

I regret it a little halfway home because the bags are heavy, and even though the distance isn’t long, it’s hard to carry all the clothes by myself. I arrive home out of breath. The sky is overcast, with dark gray clouds covering it, but I’m sweating as if I just ran a marathon. I laugh a bit at my lack of fitness, promising myself that I’ll start the morning walks I keep putting off, and I head to the laundry room to start organizing the clothes.

When I open the bag, I’m surprised by the items. Not only are they of good quality, but I’m also certain they don’t belong to Mr. Jeon. He dresses well, but not in this style. I can hardly imagine him wearing black jeans or a heavy jacket. I’m intrigued by who the owner might be, but I don’t waste time pondering it, too tired to unravel mysteries that aren’t even important. I leave the laundry room once everything is organized and head to my room, throwing myself onto the bed.

My room isn’t particularly special or different, but what I love the most about it is the bookshelf filled with books covering almost the entire wall. It was my dream from a young age to get a job and buy every book I was interested in, and luckily, that’s been possible since I started working at the library. It’s the perfect job for me, even if it’s temporary. I’m studying literature to become a teacher, and I can’t wait to start working in my dream job.

I sigh and pull my phone out of my dress pocket, too lazy to take off my clothes and go shower. I groan, placing my hands over my face, knowing there’s no escaping it after being out of the house all day. There’s no way I’m going to bed like this. Reluctantly, I get up and untie my hair, which falls in waves, heavy against my neck.

I bend down to grab the hem of my dress and start pulling it up, feeling even more tired. Today was such a long day. I can’t wait to go to bed and sleep until tomorrow. I take off my socks, lifting one foot behind the other, and as I head to the towel inside the wardrobe next to the bed, I unhook the bra that’s been bothering me all day. The relief is so immense that I let out a sigh, touching my breasts with my fingers and playing with my nipple, hardened by the cold air.

On my way to the bathroom, I stop and look at the window when I notice that the neighbor’s window—the one that had never been opened until now—is, in fact, wide open. I need a few seconds to realize that there’s someone on Mrs. Jeon’s balcony, and worse, it’s not her on the other side. It’s a man. The most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life.

I hide behind the bookshelf in my room, afraid that he might think I’m spying on him, but for some reason, I keep watching him with curiosity, hypnotized by the way he moves around the room and among the furniture. His dark, wavy hair falls over his face when, out of nowhere, he starts pulling his shirt over his back, taking it off lazily while focusing on the phone in his hands. He gives a small smile, almost as if he subconsciously knows the effect he’s having on me. My heart beats hard against my chest, and my breathing quickens; my mind fills with fantasy images of his pink lips and large, seemingly soft hands.

He is... gorgeous. Different. With tattoos all over his body. One of his arms is completely covered in designs, and his chest is adorned with images that I can’t quite make out. My mouth waters as my eyes roam over his strong back and shoulders. His pale skin glows under the dim light of the yellow lamp, and it’s hard to catch my breath. It’s like observing a work of art. A forbidden work of art, I know. It’s wrong. But I can’t convince my mind that I should stop. The man, still a stranger, smiles at his phone as the screen lights up his face. Unlike his body, which exudes sensuality and is intimidating, his smile is sweet and gentle, and the most charming I’ve ever seen. He tosses the phone onto the bed, unbuckling the leather belt around his waist and deftly undoing the buttons of his jeans. That’s when the trance that literally had me delirious breaks. I slam the window shut, desperate at my own madness.

What was I doing? How could I have seen a stranger stripping like a complete pervert? I feel so bad, guilty for having crossed the line and done something as wrong as this. I gulp, covering my face with my hands. I let out a tortured sigh and feel my heart racing uncontrollably. I am sweating, as if I had done a heavy workout, when in fact, I had been standing still the entire time. I peek through the gaps in my window to see the room in Mr. Jeon's house, but I can't see anything anymore and I don't have the courage to open the curtains and try to look at the man again.

It's the first time in many years that I have felt something like this. Could it be desire? I can't remember the last time I felt anything like this. I recall having a small and first crush on a boy at school, something innocent, when I didn't even know what it meant to like someone romantically or as a friend. This was, throughout my life, the only consistent experience in recent years. It scares me that suddenly I feel something different for someone, even if it's minimal. I let out a sigh and cover my face, embarrassed by my own behavior. To make things worse, I'm not even wearing clothes. I rush to the bathroom and close the door, staring at myself in the mirror. I am so dazed that even my cheeks are dark red. I close my eyes tightly and head to the shower, trying to let the water wash away my thoughts. It doesn't work. I spend the whole night gazing at my bedroom window, full of images that I can't forget or erase.

I have a normal day after the almost exhausting night. I study in the morning about different approaches with children on the autism spectrum, which I find completely interesting and complex, and then I work in the afternoon at the college library on campus. This is actually great because I can study even during my work hours with free access to all available books, which has saved my life in recent months. The first semester of classes was tough, but this second one has been terrible, with piled-up assignments and deadlines that are almost impossible to meet, at best. My life has revolved around this routine, and the ordeal of exams hasn't even started. On my way home, I stop at a convenience store to buy something to eat and bike towards my house, which, honestly, isn’t very far but is extremely tiring.

I get home exhausted, collapsing on the sofa almost immediately. My mother appears from the kitchen with a serious face and a tense expression, as if something very grave had happened.

"You won't believe who invited us to dinner." she comments, placing one hand on her hip.

"Who?" I ask, just out of courtesy. Besides not being hungry, I'm not interested in the subject, too stressed with college stuff to pay attention to my mother.

"Misuk."

"And what's the problem, Mom?" I roll my eyes. Until yesterday, my mother had no problem with our neighbor, and now she acts like the woman is forbidden or not good enough to be her friend.

"Did you forget, YN?" she asks, crossing her arms. "Her son, the one from Seoul, will be at the dinner."

I turn pale, my mouth dry. How could I have forgotten this? College has consumed all my thoughts during the day, but I would never forget that man. The man I saw through the window is Mrs. Jeon's son, I suppose. I concluded this after spending the whole night mulling over my thoughts and reliving that body and face, which I can’t even recall without blushing. I’ve already eaten at college and feel satisfied, but the first thing I do when my mother mentions the dinner is smile.

"I’ll go with you." I affirm, unsure. If my heart raced so much from a distance of Mr. Jeon's son, I can't imagine what will happen if I see him up close. But I'm so curious that I can't avoid it. I want to see him. I want to prove that everything I felt last night wasn’t just a product of my imagination tainted by romance novels.

"The truth is, I wanted to cancel the dinner."

"You didn't cancel, did you?" I ask, trying not to sound too desperate. My mother shakes her head, which makes me sigh with relief.

"No, but I'm curious about the guy. I want to see what he's like and make a better judgment about him. I just ask that you don’t get involved with that kind of person. He’s a tattoo artist and lives alone, so young. Who knows what he does alone in a city like Seoul." she says, and I agree with a noise in my throat.

I’m also curious about him, Mom, but not for the same reason as you. I stay silent as I go upstairs to my room. I look for some slightly nicer clothes without much expectation but I don’t have anything different from conservative or old. I feel sad for no reason and convince myself that it doesn’t matter what I choose to wear; a man like the one I saw last night will never be interested in me, no matter what I put on. I quickly shower, then, after my mom calls me from downstairs, I look at myself in the mirror, staring at the dark blue dress that goes down to just below my knees. I roll my eyes and simply go, with little enthusiasm.

My mom has a bowl with a freshly baked cake, and after saying it's for the neighbors, we head out. It’s the house next door, but the short walk feels like an eternity to me. My heart races as we approach, and I let my mom lead the way, walking ahead. She knocks on the door with three taps, and we don’t wait long before Mr. Jeon appears. He’s a man in his fifties, but very handsome and friendly, wearing a long-sleeve shirt and comfortable house slippers. He smiles at both of us, still holding the doorknob and giving us space to enter.

"Good evening, Eunji, good evening, Y/N." he greets us. I nod, a little embarrassed. Unlike Mrs. Jeon, I don’t see him often, as he is very busy with work and doesn’t attend church regularly.

"Good evening, Yejun."

"Good evening, Mr. Jeon. Thank you for having us." I smile, genuinely grateful. I truly like the couple, as every time I see them, they always treat me very well.

"What a polite girl, isn’t she?" he says to my mother in a joking tone, then looks at me kindly. "You don’t need to thank us. We love having you two here. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable."

"I brought a cake for after dinner." my mom says with a smile. "Where is Misuk? I want to give it to her."

"She’s in the kitchen, finishing organizing things. Shall we go there?"

I follow them in silence, having little to do. My mom is more accustomed to the environment, as she comes here a few times for church meetings. I take a few steps toward the kitchen when a noise on the stairs catches my attention. Then he appears, and like magic, everything I felt before resurges, ten thousand times worse. I catch my breath as I see him slowly descending the stairs. He is much taller than me and different from what I imagined, now up close.

His eyes are dark, bright and large, which strangely complements his sharp jawline. His lips are a beautiful pink that makes me run my tongue over my mouth, enchanted by their apparent softness. Pink is now my favorite color. He exudes a powerful aura with his heavy clothes and his body built like a big mountain towering over me, but when he smiles, I am captivated. His smile is sweet, friendly, and inviting, making me want to get closer. However, the thing that catches my attention the most is the eyebrow piercing. My God. What a man.

"Hello, how are you?" he says with a boyish smile, and I blush instantly. I try to maintain a mantra in my mind, repeating several times: calm down, calm down, calm down! "My name is Jungkook, are you my mother’s neighbor?"

"Y-yes." I stammer and almost instinctively close my eyes, frustrated with myself. He smiles even more, squinting his dark eyes as if he finds me amusing.

"Nice to meet you. What’s your name?" he asks with a soft voice, and I feel embarrassed for not having said my name earlier.

"My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you." This time I don’t stammer, but I speak so quietly that I fear he might not have heard me.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. My mom talks a lot about you." he says, confirming that yes, he did hear me.

I open my mouth to try to say something, but suddenly my mother appears. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. I wanted more chances to talk and discover new things about him, but all I was managing to do was look like an idiot who hasn’t left the house in years, completely antisocial. My shoulders slump, and I follow my mother to the dining room in silence, feeling embarrassed. I can almost feel Jungkook’s presence behind me, but I don’t have the courage to turn around and glimpse his expression. I almost automatically remember him taking off his clothes, showing the tattoos that are now hidden, and I flush even more, almost choking on my own saliva.

"Good evening, Y/N!" Mrs. Jeon smiles at me, already seated at the table. I feel guilty for almost drooling over her son earlier but I smile, greeting her in the same way.

"Good evening, Mrs. Jeon. The smell of the food is delicious, as always." I say, seeing the vegetables on the table and the meat next to it that looks divine. If I hadn’t eaten earlier, I’d be attacking the food, with respect, of course.

"Always so sweet, Y/N." she smiles. "Please, have a seat. Jungkook, sit next to her." she requests. I try to not choke again, just nodding, watching the man I am incredibly attracted to sit to my right side.

His parents and my mom engage in a lively conversation, and I try to pay attention in case they ask me something, but the truth is, I can’t follow along at all. Jungkook eats in silence and occasionally answers my mother’s questions, which I’m sure are meant to gather more material for judgment when we get home, but I can’t follow any of the reasoning. Besides being handsome, polite and kind, he also smells good.

With the clothes he wears and the tattoos decorating his body, I would swear his perfume would be woody and strong, but it’s quite the opposite. His scent reminds me of spring, or nature like a field full of flowers. It’s a scent I could absorb all day. Lost in thought while I play with the fork on my plate and the cabbage kimchi I served myself, I don’t notice him coming closer to me and my ear. My whole body shivers with his breath. I try to not make it too obvious, but I think it’s in vain since I hear his soft laugh even closer to my neck.

"Do you want to go to the kitchen, Y/N?" Jungkook asks in a whisper so close that I look around just to make sure no one is watching, especially my mother, who seems to have already formed a prejudiced opinion about him.

"Why?" I ask in a whisper, confused.

"I want to ask you something." he smiles crookedly, which makes me even more disturbed. I nod, still unsure about what I’m agreeing to. He quickly stands up, and I almost instantly follow him. When we get to the kitchen, he turns around quickly, watching me attentively, crossing his arms over his chest.

"W-what do you want to ask me?" I swallow nervously.

"I was thinking whether I should talk to you about this, but after meeting you tonight, I think it’s for the best, anyway." he says with a serious face. His previously relaxed attitude changes completely, as if all the fun from earlier had drained away.

I become worried, my mind filled with questions, until something occurs to me. What if last night, somehow, he realized I was watching him? My body turns to jelly at the thought, and my heart beats faster as I look at his face. I would die, seriously. I would fall to the ground and never wake up again. My hands tremble as I wait for his question.

"Are you and my mother very close?" he asks in a whisper, this time with a weak voice, looking at his own intertwined hands. I nod in agreement, even more confused. Since Mrs. Jeon moved to my city, we’ve become something like friends, despite the significant age difference. I consider her, even if mistakenly, like a mother.

"Yes. I think we have a close relationship. Why the question?" he shifts uncomfortably. He tries to smile but can’t. I am worried but silent, waiting for his answer.

"My mother is sick, Y/N." he says quietly, with a weak voice. My eyes widen at the news. I never imagined this is what he wanted to talk to me about. From his seriousness, it seems to be something very grave. "That’s why I came to the city. She had depression years ago and last month she tried to take her own life for some reason."

"She didn’t tell anyone, I’m sure." I say as much as I can, still shaken and shocked. Mrs. Jeon seems so happy lately that I could never imagine something like this. My eyes fill with tears, but I try to contain the flood of emotions inside me, embarrassed to act this way with a previously unknown person.

"I know. I was shocked when I found out." he explains, running his fingers through his dark hair as if he were tired. "She wants to spare people from the situation, but I wish everyone could know and support her. She shouldn’t be thinking about anyone’s well-being right now, except her own. That’s why I came to Busan, to take care of her."

"I understand." I whisper with a lump in my throat. I want to take his trembling hands and assure him that everything will be okay, but I don’t have that much courage. I wish I were casual and authentic and had the ease to simply say what I’m thinking. It’s the first time that not being this way makes me upset and sad. I wish I could be someone else right now. I wish I could help more.

"I apologize for bringing this up so suddenly. I hope I haven’t ruined your evening. I’m sorry." he smiles awkwardly, puffing his cheeks, and a previously hidden dimple appears. His face turns red and I can’t help but like him even more.

"Don’t worry. Really. Thank you for telling me the truth. I want to help in any way I can. I'll try to keep her company more often."

"Thank you so much, Y/N." he smiles, with his eyes shining. "I knew it was a good idea to tell you the truth. I knew I could count on you."

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

[riphobisbraces]

The Lucky Seven | BTS ot7 x reader

Hybrid/Royal AU

~ chapter 2 ~

[ word count: 3400+ ]

❀ genre: dark royal core, hybrid au, royalty au, hybrids/knights!ot7 x human/princess!reader, afab (she/her) reader, polyamory (mostly ot7 x reader), strangers to lovers, daddy dom, smut and sexual sometimes. tiny bits of horror

❀ warnings: smut, swearing, murder, death (not the reader or ot7 though, I'm not evil), mentions of inbreeding (not between reader or ot7) some unsettling horror depictions, it won't be every chapter though or the whole story, just little bits here and there. (I'm willing to re write chapters for you to read if you can't do horror but still wanna follow along, just ask! 🖤)

——— summary ———

In a world of hybrids and humans, following each other closely to extinction, you are one of the last full humans, Princess y/l/n of the emerald nation. humans are essential for the survival of hybrids so why are assailants hunting you and your family down? because of this, the court has decided it’d be best for you to be guarded at all times by the nations strongest knights, you’ve only ever heard of them but have never seen their faces. What will happen once you come face to face with the infamous “lucky seven”?

[ chapter 2 ]

chapter content warnings: possible emetophobia warning: mentions of needing to throw up (character doesn’t actually throw up though) and unintentional self-harm.

The cold night’s air trickled between Namjoon’s thick fur. Millions of thoughts ran through his mind, faster than the paws carrying him and the princess. What was the princess doing outside? Why did she look so familiar and most of all, are his pack mates okay?

Growling out of frustration whilst running into the night, he shakes those thoughts out. For now he has only one thing he needs to focus on. Getting you to safety and he knows exactly where you’ll be safe.

-

Multiple hurried footsteps and panicked screams filled the room. It was chaos. What was a joyful and merry evening turned into absolute havoc.

The once golden room suddenly having turned cold and blue, its warmth having completely washed away. Hobi quickly ran and tried to push through the crowd looking for any of his pack mates. It seemed impossible with the sea of people engulfing him.

Just as Hobi started to feel hopeless, he found two of his pack members, Jin and Jimin, spotting them from across the room. Hobi used his hands to cup around his face before yelling desperately “JIN! JIMIN-AH! “ The two instantly recognized that voice.

They both quickly snapped their heads into the direction of where it came from, spotting their fellow pack mate trying to make his way through the wave of people. What after seemed like forever, they all finally reached each other, Jin grabbing onto Hoseok’s hands.

“Where are the others” Jin quickly questioned. “I don’t know, you’re the first two that I found” replied Hoseok. Jimin starts glancing around, running his hand through his hair as he pondered.

“Well wherever they are, they can handle themselves. For now we have to neutralize the threat.” Jimin asserts before turning to his fellow knight and pack member, Hoseok. “Hobi, you were the one who alerted that the princess was being attacked, where did the arrow come from?” Questioned the knight.

Hobi doesn’t waste time in answering, “Follow me, I know what direction it came from. Possibly even the shooting location” briskly, Hobi starts making his way to where he suspects it came from, with Jin and Jimin following closely and quickly behind.

-

The temperature around your body is warm. You feel snug and drowsy. Hearing the crackle of fire wood just makes you want to fall back even deeper into your slumber.

The smell of cedar filling your nostrils, comforting you furthermore. Shifting around and moving your legs, you start to feel the softness of blankets underneath, gliding against your skin as you moved. You start to wonder when was the last time you felt this pleasant..

Alas the sudden realization of what had just transpired abruptly started streaming back into your head. Quickly, you sat up, instinctively backing up and grabbing onto whatever was underneath you which happened to be the same blanket that had just brought you so much comfort.

“Your highness, you’re awake” a deep voice suddenly declared, making you shoot your head into the direction it came from. Letting go of the blanket in defense you realized it was the same man from before, the wolf hybrid. He was sitting beside your bedside in a wooden chair.

You didn’t get to have a good look at him before due to the havoc but now that you are, you realized that he’s a gorgeous man. He had tan skin and dark siren-like eyes. His hair was dark, adorned with an undercut.

You found yourself studying his features, they were soft and welcoming. As you sat in silence, taking in the man before you, the same voice suddenly interrupted your admiration. “your highness? are you alright?” his face contorted into worry.

How embarrassing. “y-yes, I am alright.” You answered before quickly looking down to avoid the man you had just been in awe of. Feeling his gaze burn into you, you can’t help but look back up, taking in your surroundings instead, trying to ignore the man obviously examining you with his eyes.

The room was lit with an orange hue from the fire, the room being much smaller than any you’ve ever been in before. Instead of the white walls and golden accents you were accustomed to, you were surrounded by walls of bark.

The walls simply decorated with some little paintings here and there. Looking around some more you noticed this room had no windows, how peculiar you thought to yourself. You noticed some bookshelves hung on the wall above the fireplace across from you, filled with old and torn books much like your own books.

Once you felt you’ve taken in enough of your surroundings and felt more at ease about the man that was studying you, you looked back down. Examining the sheets you were covered in, you realized they were a maroon shade. the colour was dull but you could tell it had been a vivid maroon at some point, or even red.

You decide to finally ask the questions that had been on your mind since you woke up. “Where am I? Are my parents okay?” you asked feebly, ashamed and feeling as though these circumstances were all your fault. Still looking down, you grip onto the sheets once again awaiting his answer.

“You’re at my pack’s den. Kings orders were to get you away from the chaos until it was deemed safe. Unfortunately I don’t know about the well being of your parents but as you might know, your mother didn’t attend the ball, just your father. Last I heard, he was being led to safety.” He replied with a gentle voice, as to not stress you out anymore than you already are. Sighing you let go of your grip to hold your face. covering your eyes, you just sit there, not wanting to cry in front of a stranger especially as princess.

You were to be queen one day and queens cannot show weakness, especially to their subjects. Your heart filled with rue, you decide to let go of your face. Turning to the man once again. “Your name…. It’s sir Namjoon.. right?” you inquired. His eyes widening from the sudden question and the fact that you knew his name.

You must of heard it when Hoseok was talking to him. His face quickly turns from surprise to a gentle smile “yes your highness, my name is Namjoon. Sir Kim Namjoon.” he confirmed.

He then got up from his seat to bow, before gently grabbing your hand with both of his. Softly, he brought it to his lips, you could feel his breath against your hand before he bestowed a kiss of respect upon it, his lips ever so slightly brushing against it. You’re used of servants bobbing you a curtsy or kissing your hand out of respect but this feels different.

You could feel your face start to get hot at the contact, stomach contorting into a ball of what feels like butterflies trying to fight their way out. Taking your hand back, you glance back at the man, met with the same warm smile you had been examining before.

Scratching the back of your neck, you quickly turn your head to face the other way, an attempt at looking at anything but the beautiful man in front of you. You knew your face was probably the colour of crimson so this was as an attempt of hiding that. Glancing around, you remembered how there were no windows, what time was it?

The last thing you remembered was riding away from the palace on top of the wolf hybrid. Had you fallen asleep? You looked for a clock in vain before briskly turning back to face the very man you were just trying to avoid eye contact with. “Ummm… how long was I sleeping for? What time is it?” You questioned, fidgeting with your hands, a bit embarrassed that you had fallen asleep on the hybrid.

“Oh! I apologize, it is the next day. it’s….” he looked down at his watch “09:37” looking back up at you he continued “speaking of, my pack should be back soon, along with your servants and a carriage to escort you back to the palace” he smiled. It’s the next day? You slept for so long, and he had to watch you the whole time.

Your guilt growing, you look down at your hands. Your chest weighing you down, you uttered “I’m… I’m sorry.. I fell asleep on you...” you sniffled. Surprised by your own unexpected moment of weakness, you really didn’t want to cry but you just couldn’t fight the tears.

Oblivious to the man’s sudden worried expression, you continued “and you had to watch me… all night… it’s all my fault, I-I put your pack in d- danger-“ you tried to continue as the lump in your throat fought to take over. But before it could, abruptly, your vision is covered.

Large arms are wrapped around you. They feel warm and comforting. You’re being gently pressed against a broad chest before you realize, he’s hugging you. His scent and warmth instantly calming you down.

Your muscles relaxed and you went loose while you breathed in his scent, closing your eyes. Slowly breathing in and out to calm yourself down, you just sat on the bed, letting yourself be embraced by the man. The embrace is cut short by the realization of what Namjoon had just done.

Gently pulling away, “Y-your highness…” he stammered, clearly embarrassed and quite frankly, scared of what he had just done. Standing up straight, he explained “please forgive me, that was out of line. it’s just… you looked so sad..I felt…” he continued, letting go of your arms to run his hands through his hair but before he could finish, the sound of horses and footsteps cut him off, making the both of you stand up.

-

“thank you once again sir Namjoon, to you and your pack for keeping the princess safe and your services” Your father’s servant said to Namjoon, bowing gratefully to the wolf hybrid. “ it’s really no problem, we are glad to be of service to the king” the hybrid replied, returning the bow.

Your fathers leading officers and servants had come to pick you up from Sir Namjoon’s and his pack’s den. Sitting in the carriage, you stared at the man who had saved you the night before. Pondering of what had transpired just before your father’s men had arrived.

You’ve never been held before by anyone before but your parents and governess. It felt nice. the different body type holding you, way bigger than your parents or governess’ body. It made you feel at ease and protected.

Suddenly your stare is met with his, his head turning to face you. He flashes you a smile before you quickly look down in embarrassment, fiddling with your hands. How rude of you, this man had just saved your life and you repay him by staring?

Footsteps interrupt your mental self beating, realizing they belong to the wolf hybrid that had saved you the night before. He’s coming this way, why do you feel so nervous? “Your highness?” he inquires.

“yes?” You answer with a small smile. “Im very sorry about… what happened in the den. I was out of line and I can only hope you and your father could forgive me for crossing such boundaries” all he did was hug you. You knew it was only a problem because you were the princess but what if you weren’t… would he….

You cut your own thoughts off. You can’t be thinking like that. “oh.. yeah.. please pay it no mind, I really didn’t mind… I actually.. quite enjoyed it.” You admit, mentally slapping yourself as soon as you said so.

A flush quickly took over his face, heart skipping a beat before he started smiling widely. “well.. me too.. you’re highness.” he also admits. You’re both looking at each other, smiling in silence.

Rubbing your hands together nervously, no one’s ever looked at you for this long before and neither have you ever looked at someone for so long. You didn’t want to admit it but for some reason, you wanted to be held by him again, to have his arms around your body, keeping it in a cocoon of safety and maybe… maybe even love-

“WE’RE OFF IN TWO MINUTES” the sound of your fathers men startled you from your thoughts, maybe for good reason too. “well, I guess I’m off.” The hybrid proclaimed with a half smile. “Me too I guess” you responded.

He then reached into the carriage to grab your hand, gently brushing a kiss against it once more just like he did inside, making your heart flutter. He then bowed and said “goodbye Princess. I hope our paths cross again one day” he smiled. You felt your stomach do flips as you looked down.

You uttered a shy “goodbye sir Namjoon… so do I” before looking back up. Looking into each others eyes, you smiled at each other one last time, the hybrid giving you a nod before reluctantly turning away. “MEN, WE’RE OFF” and just like that, the carriage started to move, finding that your eyes never left the man and the direction he was going.

While watching him, you notice his figure was suddenly accompanied by 6 other ones, all walking into the den you had just vacated in. Who were they? Looking back into the front of the carriage, reality started to sink in and your circumstances.

Realizing your parents were waiting for you back home, a sinking feeling settles in. You are in so much trouble.

-

Sitting in the plush chair in your room, you can’t help but think about the men from last night. Hobi, was it? And Namjoon. They were both very attractive yes but truth is, that wasn’t the only reason you kept thinking about them.

Who were they? What were they doing at the ball and why did they seem to know you? Sitting back on the chair, you brought your legs up, holding them against your chest.

Most importantly, how did Hobi know you were the princess? Sure he said you smelt of human but don’t other human hybrids do too? You are a full human though you thought to yourself. Maybe that’s it. You were missing the hybrid scent and perhaps he put two and two together, you and your parents are the last full humans in the nations after all.

Groaning, you slightly swung your head back in frustration. You need to see them again, you thought to yourself. You need answers. Knocking brings you out of your rumination, “your highness?” A voice spoke behind your doors.

“yes?” You replied. “your presence is requested in the courtroom by your Father” Shit. You knew your father would be livid about all of this but the courtroom?

What was he up to? Was he going to send you away? All of these worries ran through your head before you stood up. Turning toward the door, you croaked out a pathetic “I’ll be there in five minutes”.

-

Your steps echoed the hallways, shoes clacking against the marble. Hugging yourself while walking, you can’t help but tighten your grip around your arms the closer you get to the courtroom. Your eyes trailing the passing paintings hung alongside the hallway, a feeble attempt to keep your mind calm.

Alas it’s futile as your thoughts keep running your mind rapid. What if father sends me to a nunnery you think, you’ve never been away from your parents your whole life so this frightens you. Or worse, what if he decides to keep you locked up in one of the dungeons for the rest of your life.

You find your nails starting to dig into your skin, you need to throw up. You stop and kneel. Coughing as you hold on to your stomach. Nothing is coming out.

You can’t throw up but you need to. Tears started beaming through your eyes before you quickly got up. You dusted yourself off and wiped your tears. You need to do this. You need to get it over with.

As you continue your way down. The doors of the courtroom finally come into sight, making your heart drop. ‘This is it’ you think to yourself. You feel as though you’re not in control, you just want to run away but your body is calmly walking toward the doors with no hesitation.

Reaching for the handle, you gently turn it, using your weight to push it open. Why can’t you run, you just want to turn back. Entering the room, the discussion within it instantaneously became quiet. All eyes turned to face you.

A large L shaped table sat in the middle of the room, your Father at the end of the L. The courtroom had high ceilings and tall windows, velvet red curtains draped over them. You cleared your throat, ignoring the eyes on you, you held your head up high and calmly began to make your way to the end of the table, where your father was.

The once clamorous room, was now filled with nothing but the clacking of your shoes against marble. All you could feel were dozens upon dozens of burning gazes, almost making you trip as you walk. Once you made it to the end, you looked at your father.

Meeting eyes with his, his face is filled with sadness but somehow also solace. Without warning, something overtakes you. You thought you could do it but your Fathers’ face had made you weak. You were guilty.

You sank to the floor almost mimicking the way your heart felt. Kneeling down, you placed your forehead to the ground, hands placed side by side. Gasps and muttering quickly filling the courtroom at the spectacle, silencing as fast as they started at the wave of your Father’s hand. His sight never leaving you, “Father…” you weakly whispered.

“Please, forgive me… I can’t-“ you were about to finish when you heard a chair being pushed back. You looked up, your father was walking briskly toward you. You were scared but then you noticed his eyes were glossy.

He quickly picked you up from off the floor, embracing you like he never had before. “Daughter…” you hear your father choke out. your eyes were wide when they suddenly filled with tears at the realization and relief.

Feeling safe, you quickly wrapped your arms around him. Oh how you loved your father. After a few minutes, your father pulls away from the hug, wiping your tears. “a future queen should never cry in public” he reminded you, smiling.

You chuckled at the joke “yes father” looking down as he pushes your hair behind your ears. He was so glad that you were safe, he didn’t even care about the disobedience. One thing was made clear to him though, he could not stop you. So if he couldn’t stop you, you would just have to be protected at all times.

“Daughter, I know I cannot stop your desires to leave the palace, I can see that clearly now..” he admits shamefully while looking down. “and because of last nights threat, you will have to be guarded at all times, even more so than before” your heart began to palpitate in excitement. Wait… does this mean.. you can leave the palace?

Looking into your fathers eyes with anticipation, you spoke up “what are you saying father?”. Your father sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose “you may leave the palace from time to time, but you must be guarded by all seven while doing so.”

all seven? You cocked your head in confusion before your father registered your questioning look, clearing his throat before continuing “because of last nights threat, the court and I have decided you need to be guarded at all times” guarded? Like, a babysitter? “by whom?” You inquired.

Your father snaps his fingers, signalling to one of his servants to bring whoever it is, in. Hurriedly, the servant runs to the other door connecting to the next room, opening it. The men who came waltzing in, made your breath hitch.

It was seven handsome knights, two of them being the same men from the night before, Hobi and Namjoon. After quickly scanning them, your eyes met with Namjoon’s. A smirk appearing on his face. “I bet you didn’t think our paths would cross again so soon, your highness.”

A/N: OOOOOOOO cliffhanger! I know I said we would meet the boys this chapter but I didn’t want to rush things, howeverr I PROMISE we will meet the rest of them in the upcoming chapter :) anyway what did you think of the chapter? Any notes are deeply appreciated, especially comments. It makes me so happy that people are actually reading this, I promise I’ll do my best to deliver! Have a good rest of your day/night everyone, I’m gonna get started on chapter three once I wake up tomorrow ☺️

P.s I was asked about a tag list, so if anyone is interested, just ask! I’ll be putting the tag list on the next chapter xx

Next chapter:

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BPP hope you are doing great. I’m a jikooker but there’s something that’s been bothering me a little bit and i would like to get ur opinion on it. So after Jimin posted that photo of himself and Jk, i saw some people making comments about Jk’s body language and how he kept his elbow out to keep a distance between him and Jimin. I’ve also seen other instances on original content when Jk’s body language with Jimin was kinda off or negative and the barely looked relaxed around him. When u see him with literally anyone else, he looks really relaxed and does not mind sitting really close to them but with Jimin it looks like sometimes Jk wants to intentionally keep a distance. Now I don’t even for one second believe the nonsense tkkrs and antis spew about Jk hating Jimin. Anybody with eyes can see how much Jk cares for and loves Jimin. So why do you think his body language is like that? And is this something you’ve noticed too? I would really like to hear what you think.

***

Rant incoming.

Hi Anon,

I'm going to make an example of your ask to show something I keep repeating from time to time, which is that the majority of the problems, 'discourse', and source of angst in k-pop spaces, is manufactured by k-pop stans themselves and has almost nothing to do with reality or the members.

One of the biggest tells that something is fan-manufactured BS, is if the narrative is riddled with contradictions, because cognitive dissonance can only take one so far.

For reference, to be sure the whole class is all on the same page, here's the picture Anon is referring to:

*

Anon, let's pick apart your ask a little bit.

"So after Jimin posted that photo of himself and Jk, i saw some people making comments about Jk’s body language and how he kept his elbow out to keep a distance between him and Jimin."

Let's first talk about why you're listening to anybody trying to read body language from one still picture showing two Busan Bros and their backs.

The person most able and likely to fully read Jungkook's body language in this scenario, is Jimin. You know, the person who was beside Jungkook, actually with him in person, when the picture was taken. Not some random internet stranger sitting on their sofa looking at a still, pixelated image of jikook's backs.

Following that logic, if Jungkook was in any way uncomfortable with Jimin or wanted to get away from him in this instance, you'd have to first assume Jimin is inconsiderate, oblivious of Jungkook's feelings, or being something of a troll to JK, to then assume he'd go ahead and force JK to take this picture and then post it (assumed by some people to show JK was uncomfortable with Jimin in this case) on Jungkook's birthday.

Which is the end goal of that narrative. It takes an innocuous picture, and forces an end conclusion by first introducing a harmful assumption but one necessary to reach the end conclusion, in this case that assumption is of Jimin's character. So that's how a picture of Jungkook having his hands clasped in front him and likely holding something, which is obvious from the picture and which easily explains his posture, and shows JK actually leaning into Jimin - an obvious contradiction to the end-claim, then becomes fodder for the narrative of 'JK's body language around Jimin is "kinda off or negative and the barely looked relaxed around him."'

Like, that's a whole bunch of words pulled from the ether that have no bearing or relationship to the actual picture we're all looking at. All of those words came from the imagination of someone else who has nothing to do with jikook, and now I'm sitting here in my hotel room having to explain why it's bullshit.

Actually I didn't have to answer this, normally I'd delete it, but you started off your ask nicely and it's a good one to pick apart.

Because it shows the thing that really gets me about the kind of theories that drive discourse in BTS fan spaces. It's that every time, there's far more accessible and simpler explanations to explain what you're seeing, than anything you get from antis, shippers, rival shippers, akgaes, mantis - the usual suspects for this disease of a hyper-active imagination that for some reason always follows the plotline of a Fernando Gaitán telenovela. It's almost like the members are not treated as real people, but as fodder for drama and sensationalist conspiracy theories for that fan's entertainment, self-fulfillment and actualization.

It's what makes fandom such a self-sustaining system. It's that even when there are no problems or drama, you can count on some fan somewhere who will eagerly create them out of thin air, just to get a reaction from other fans who perhaps subconsciously have the primary motivations of the initial fan: treating the members first and foremost as a means to explore unresolved anxieties, insecurities, and boredom.

Now, this doesn't mean that Jungkook can never be uncomfortable around Jimin or want to keep his distance. We know it's possible because Jungkook is a person, and it's human to sometimes want your own space or to want to not always be in physical proximity with people around you, and that this can happen for a whole bunch of reasons. But what you sent me Anon, is an ask that's about a theory where the source of the theory itself (the picture), contradicts the end-claim of the theory, just to feed an underlying fan narrative that's often found in spaces that don't treat either Jimin or Jungkook as real people. The picture doesn't actually show Jungkook pulling away from Jimin. It shows Jungkook with his hands clasped in front of him, leaning into Jimin so Jimin's arm can get around his shoulder, Jimin standing with an upright posture, and both Jimin and Jungkook looking in the same direction.

The only thing possible to infer from this picture, is that jikook are jikooking.

It's possible this is a reality that makes some people so uncomfortable they'd look for any explanation to take away from that fact, including believing theories that are inherently self-contradictory, but there's no reason you need to play along with that BS. It wastes everybody's time and does nothing but dumb down the conversation in fan spaces.

[sageistri]

I think that PJMs being as passionate about Jimin as they are is sort of a double edged sword. It’s like that saying there’s a thin line between love and hate. I just think a lot of PJMs who spend too much time supporting Jimin or in stan spaces can start to feel entitled to certain things from him, and more resentful when he doesn’t deliver. 

I didn’t care for SGMB but I just moved on and lowered my expectations a little for the album. If I hate it, it’s not a big deal. I’ll talk about it with my friends and a little on here, but I’m not going to make long dramatic doom rant posts that feel weirdly resentful or antagonistic towards Jimin as a whole. It’s like they can’t dislike something without being so intensely emotional about it. 

Then there’s the people who have to love EVERYTHING he does, isn’t that tiring too? I think that would also lead towards a lot of resentment. I think it’s a product of stanning and feeling defensive because of other solos and competition, but also protective because the hate he gets is so bad. There are going to be PJMs disappointed if the rest of the album is like SGMB just because it’s not their kind of music, but there’s going to be a big batch of them who are more disappointed because they wanted to use this album to compete with other members and show Jimin’s impact and feel superior. 

I just think a lot of fans would do well to take a step back and touch grass and realize none of this is so serious and examine what exactly they like Jimin for in the first place, and understand it’s okay to unstan if he’s not delivering that. I think a lot are too caught up and care too much about what people are saying online and the whole stanning thing. And then there’s a lot who want to live vicariously through him and his achievements and personality, especially his “cunty” image. 

I’m not trying to criticize PJMs for being passionate and hardworking, I just worry sometimes that if Jimin really ends up not doing the things they want him to do with his solo career instead of just unstanning they’ll turn into the worst kinds of antis (some already are). 

JK probably delivers what his fans want from him so far, he’s good at Y/N content (intentional or not), even his brand deal caters to that boyfriend image, he puts out straight forward pop music, and most importantly he went the big numbers route that a huge portion of his fanbase cares about the most. His solos love that Twitter clout more than the music or anything else because they're all jobless and chronically online.

KTHs probably don’t like TH’s music, but his music goes with his persona and his aesthetic that they’re all crazy about. TH also seems like he’s putting effort into building his brand and image and networking, and his fans are obsessed with followers and IG likes and “most popular” so that BP influencer route is probably exactly what they want. They’re also all visual stans so his photobook and all that work well for them too. And shippers will be happy as long as he doesn't confirm another relationship and feeds them every now and then.

Genuinely, what do Jimin’s fans want from him the most? Music, performance, popularity, bragging rights, specific visuals? Is it something inherently harder to deliver than the rest of the BTS members and what their audiences want from them? I think that what Jimin himself wants out of his solo career is a little less clear than some of the other members too. 

FACE was my favorite album and I know that if I don’t like MUSE Jimin has all the tools to create his next LC when he’s back and that he’ll never stop making music and performing, so there’s always the chance I’ll get my next LC or Filter. I don’t care about the other stuff that much personally, and I only put as much time into streaming as I'm comfortable with. But I just don’t know about the majority of PJMs, sometimes I’m not sure what they’re thinking or wanting from him. (obviously other solos have their major issues too but i dont pay as much attention to them)

Sometimes this reminds me of the way that some boycotters are with BTS now.

.

[juliapark13]

https://www.tumblr.com/juliapark13/738698380775178240/i-love-how-2-groups-of-people-are-pretending

Y'all be like kids istg hjshsjsj💀

Taejoon decided to go together real afffff

Not a tkkr here. Remember that not all ppl who come here as a matter of eye opening to you, is a tkkr. There're many people who aren't shippers. Nor "supporters" bc there's literally nothing to support here. As of now,there's no official couple of bts. Many people don't support headcanons and assumptions. Bc simply it's none of our business and it's really uncertain thing to dedicate time for, wich also, not everyone has this much time for.

May you stay delulu if this keeps you sleep at night. The fact none of armys know anything personal about the members and each of armys look at things in a certain way and see anything as something "eyebrow rising" or a "sign" or whatever while it simply be to fuel shipping propaganda (especially when ml ships are pretty popular In korea and internationally even) and also something not as deep or "romantic" in their life as YOU make it so.

I hate seeing you guys being as toxic as tkks but you're always somehow covered with the fact that you're not actually a tkkr. Since toxicity is only directed to tkks, but this is not actually true. Toxicity exists in jkks and jnkks too. As far as I saw.

I'm actually one of your followers, and many other jkk blogs. That's why I'm writing you here this to express the way I'm sick of y'all. Y'all are grown up right?

Taejoon decided to enlist as companions to be together for whole 18 months too? 😮 I had to miss it anon, my apologies 🤧

…

Sometimes I wonder if you’re this stupid for real, or you just can’t find anything to say anymore, so at the end it only makes you toxic and look like you aren’t grown up.

They don’t have to be official couple for me to believe they are, because it can’t be more obvious they are. They were showing it without actually saying it for years.

I really don’t care if people think they’re only friends unless they don’t downplay everything they do. And you know why they do it?

When we say everyone sees what we see, but it makes them uncomfortable because they are either homophobic or y/ns or ship them with someone else, it’s not a joke. They feel jikook is too real, so they have to downplay their bond every single time.

For example everyone saw the „bite mark” was a hickey and everyone knows what it means. They were shocked and they could never accept it. If they truly believed Jungkook and Jimin are only friends, they wouldn’t have such a huge problem specifically with them.

They don’t even want them to be friends, that’s why they were furious when they found out Jungkook and Jimin are going to enlist together as companions.

Lastly, the only BTS ship pretty popular in Korea is jikook, because koreans aren’t blind and they know their culture.

Happy unfollowing me 👋🏽

[eddiediazismyhusband]

I totally get you with the bait vibes and I am apprehensive about buddie/its timing this season. My only thing is that Oliver has spoken so much in the past over worrying about baiting people with buddie and Ryan has spoken with so much care about these characters together that I just can't see either of them suddenly going all in on baiting with buddie without knowing that there are good things coming for them. Not saying they'll go canon in episode 2 or anything but they likely know the general arc/storyline for the season and knowing how much we and they care about buddie, I don't see Ryan or Oliver toying with the fans for fun and being careless or meanspirited about it unless they felt assured about where things might be going this season

this is why the fact that it’s on the official 911 account worries me. because it’s not just ryan and oliver posting, it’s olvier filming a video he was told to for the official account that ryan was also in, and the conscious decision for that video to be posted was made by someone who knows all the attention buddie brings in. if it was for olvier’s personal instagram then maybe id be a little less concerned about it, but the simple fact that it was for a video on the official 911 account doesn’t give me good vibes

i think often times in fandom we view the actors as having a lot more say in things than they actually do… obviously i don’t know what rules and regulations regarding social media involvement the cast have to follow, but i think the fandom automatically assumes that ryan and oliver get veto rights on things just bc of how involved in the show they are, when that’s often not the case— most of the time in show business, actors have to get things approved before they post them to keep from accidentally spoiling things.

that video wasn’t just ryan and oliver goofing off on set (i mean it was); it was intentionally chosen by someone on the 911 team and approved for the official account. it was chosen and approved bc ryan and oliver together means fandom interaction. it’s the same reason we had so many ryan and oliver interviews before s7 with all this pr talk of “they get closer than ever” and “they have such a strong bond” just for buddie to have very few actual meaningful moments onscreen. it’s textbook baiting, and tim has shown he’s not afraid of that.

i know oliver and ryan both feel strongly about buddie and both want to be careful about not baiting, but they’re not the issue here; the issue is that they are both employed by this production, and that means that sometimes they aren’t allowed to say “no” to how something is promoted.

(small addendum)

in regards to the “general storyline of the season” thing you mentioned (and i do not meant this to come across bitchy or rude at ALL) but tim has also stated that he doesn’t plan out seasons. he may bring up storylines he has ideas for and have an idea of where he might go, but he himself has said he doesn’t plan out full seasons (which is….. kinda what his whole job is supposed to be but i digress) and on top of that, we saw in s7 how quickly he made the decision to completely scrap his original ideas for 7b, scrapping a storyline w abuela that was mentioned, as well as bringing e*y and l*u back for more episodes than they were originally supposed to appear in, and creating that god awful “vertigo” mess…

im sure ryan and oliver are told “oh yeah we’re aiming for buddie canon this season” just like the show tries to do to us with the interviews and bts content, only to change their minds a few episodes in because they intentionally convolute/switch up the plot and say “ohhhh it just didn’t go there naturally :/“ (which is complete bullshit for reasons i shouldn’t have to explain to anyone)

overall i think fandom is too disconnected from how the show works/has worked in the past, and that we often ignore things that have been said in favor of the shiny buddie bait from the production (which is the whole point of the bait to begin with) and all that does is sets us up for disappointment in the long run because we convince ourselves that buddie is happening based on oliver and ryan talking about it, when oliver snd ryan most likely are also being strung along, and don’t have any veto power in that.

[sailoryooons]

Happy August Agust! For the fic request, how about some Yoongi fluff - Fae warrior Yoongi, while out on patrol, finds a human baby alone in the woods

❀ Pairing: Fae!Yoongi (ft. other members)

❀ Summary: Yoongi finds a human child in the most unlikely of places and discovers that perhaps he isn’t the most terrible father figure afterall. 

❀ Word Count: 1,754

❀ Genre: Fantasy, found family, fluff

❀ Rating: SFW 

❀ Warnings: Abandoned child in the woods, a little bit of tough love, Dad Yoongi who is like I’m Not Dad, vague world building, Yoongi teasing his kiddo, unedited!!!! 

❀ Published: August 4, 2023

❀ A/N: Okay this is my first attempt at kid fic and I tried to keep it short and sweet. I really wanted to add the members in like one giant family and like all these uncle vibes and influences and GOSH I think this turned out very cute! Thank you SO much for requesting, I adore you and you always brighten my day with your thoughts and comments!! This is unedited!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask |Hali’s Happy Agust |

Crickets sing their nighttime hymn as Yoongi rides along the road. The moon is a full, silver coin in the sky, painting the world in pale gray light. The evergreens on either side of the road glow blue in the light, their shadows long and stretching in haunting shapes. 

Yoongi does not fear the woods, no matter how dark the spaces between the boughs. He’s patrolled this route hundreds of times and he’ll do it a hundred more. Each night, he rides along the southern border, keeping close to the tree line that separates the fae and human territories. 

For the most part, Yoongi’s nights are boring. He watches packs of direwolves move through the trees and goblins chitter as they run through the bushes. Sometimes, he spots a redcap heading toward the human territory before seeing him and fleeing back into the fae country. 

Rare are the times he sees humans. The humans don’t dare to cross the southern forest that splits the continent in half. Though some villages and cities deep in the human lands no longer believe in the fae, the northerners near the border know that the fae are real and just beyond the trees. 

The time of war against the humans has long passed, but the memory of the fae is enough to haunt human tales and superstition over campfire. 

A soft cry catches Yoongi’s attention. He sits a little straighter in his saddle, tilting his head toward the forest that stretches between the two countries. The back of his neck tingles and just when he thinks it’s nothing more than a distant echo on the when, he hears the distinct sound of crying.

Spurring his horse into a fast-walk, he heads into the tree, following the sound. It sounds distinctly like the cries of a child, worry forming like a pit in the bottom of his stomach. 

It only takes a moment to find a bundle of blankets at the foot of a tree. Sliding from his horse, Yoongi feels his heart thundering in his chest, anxiety setting in as he slowly approaches the bundle. Instinct tells him he’s going to find exactly what he expects. Dread sets in when he looms over the bundle and peers down at the round, tiny face of a crying baby. 

A mess of dark hair sits atop the child's head. It’s swaddled tightly in wool blankets, but the bundle rocks as the baby has a fit. Yoongi crouches down slowly and reaches out gently, swiping the silk-soft hair from the side of the baby’s head. He swears under his breath when he sees small, rounded ears. It is the tiniest of babes, the runt of the litter.

Minutes pass. Yoongi stares down at the child that now cries in earnest, its wails sharp and punctuated with gasps from its mighty little lungs. Looking around, he sees no sign of parents. No footsteps, no horse tracks, nothing. 

A few yards away, Yoongi spots a circular ring of mushrooms and he tightens his fists. He could have spotted the faerie ring right away, but the babe was set down away from it, out of sight. Yoongi knows he’ll have to alert Namjoon immediately that someone has swapped a child with a changeling.

With a heavy heart, Yoongi reaches out and plucks the child from the ground. He bends down slightly and inhales, smelling lilac and milk. He realizes that the baby is a little girl, with plump cheeks. She opens her eyes and looks at him, their dark depths shining with the reflection of the moon.

Yoongi has no idea what to do with the child. But knowing he can’t leave her on the ground to die, he sighs and cradles her to his chest. Immediately, her cries stop. Her heartbeat thrums against his chest as he turns to his horse, careful as he mounts with the child in his arms.

“You’re only staying with me for a night,” he mutters at the babe, who has yet to take her round eyes off him. “You’re going straight to Jin in the morning.”

-

“Nari,” Yoongi sighs heavily, putting his head in his palm. “You have to eat your vegetables. I don’t care if you don’t like them. You can’t be a little runt forever, you have to grow strong.” 

“They smell weird,” she complains, shoving around the greens on her plate. Her wild, black hair is plaited down her back thanks to Jimin’s nimble fingers, and she smells like the lavender and oatmeal soap that Taehyung gifted her. “I don’t want to.”

This is one of the hardest parts of life with Nari, Yoongi things. What turned into housing a babe for a single night transformed into a life that Yoongi doesn’t yet know how to define. 

He remembers that first night. It was awful. The baby had cried all night, screaming with a rage that Yoongi did not know that human children possessed. He’d half-convinced himself by morning that the baby was actually a demon disguised as a human and had every intention of telling Seokjin to take her to a monastery in the human lands.

But then the sun had risen and Yoongi was reminded of a song about the dragonflies and lilies that his father used to sing to him. As the words came back to him, he found himself singing them quietly under his breath and for the first time that night, the baby was silent. Watching him. Curious. 

When Seokjin had finally arrived at the house, Yoongi found himself too enamored by the dark eyes and the blinding smile when he’d sing the baby and bounce, finally unlocking the secret to her silence and joy. 

Now, he doesn’t know how to get her to do anything. Nari is as stubborn as she was when he found her, and now that the five year old has a voice, she can talk back to him. 

“Let’s make a deal,” Yoongi sighs. He doesn’t know where a human picked up such a fae habit, but Nari perks up at the sound of a deal. She does nothing without compromise and is always looking to needle him into a bargain. She’d be a very good trickster, he thinks. “You eat your vegetables every night, and I will let you start training with Jungkook and I in the mornings.”

She narrows her eyes. “And with Uncle Hoseok in archery.”

He rolls his eyes. “And in archery.”

Nari extends her tiny hand over to him. “I, Nari of the Min Household, swear to hold up my end of the bargain by blood and bone.”

“I, Yoongi of the Min household, Sentry of Hala and Shadow of the King, swear to hold up my end of the bargain by blood and bone.”

Leaning over the table, Yoongi shakes her hand. It feels so small and fragile in his, but she grips him tight, squeezing her little fingers as much as she can. When she lets go, she gives a self-satisfied smirk and stabs a piece of broccoli and pops it into her mouth.

“I actually like when you use more salt,” she says around a mouthful. “These are fine, though.”

Only until her happy humming as she eats does Yoongi realize he’s been played.” 

-

“Stop crossing your feet,” Yoongi calls, crossing his arms over his chest. He watches you with laser-like focus, tracking your movements as your right foot circles behind your left. “You’ll get knocked on your ass if you keep doing that. Side-step, but keep your center of gravity wide, Nari.”

“I’ll knock you on your ass,” she mutters, correctly her foot work before bending at the knee and taking her stance again. Jungkook is across from her, wooden sword held up, grin on his face. “Jimin crosses his feet.”

“Jimin is the best swordsman in the kingdom. You are a little runt who can’t disarm Jungkook.”

To anyone else, it might seem mean. Perhaps it is. Yoongi doesn’t know how else to motivate her. Like Jungkook, Nari is a perfectionist with a vicious pride, driven by the need to do everything with the perfect execution. Like Taehyung, though, she is stubborn and hot headed. 

Jungkook leaps forward and the connecting thwack of wood against wood rings out again. The two of them fill the small clearing behind Yoongi’s cottage with clacking. Yoongi keeps his eyes trained on them, ignoring Namjoon and Seokjin who come piling out the house with Hoseok and Jimin behind them. 

Nari doesn’t break her concentration despite her audience. If anything, being under the full weight of her little family makes her swing at Jungkook harder. Yoongi sees the way her movements blend together, keeping a rhythm and flow of motion but no discernable pattern. 

When Nari spins under Jungkook’s wooden blade and uses her small size to her advantage to keep spinning and get to the side of him, bringing her wooden weapon down on his wrist and making him yelp and drop his sword, Yoongi straightens. 

While Jungkook yells about his injured wrist, Nari grins and looks over at the group of men gathered on the steps. Yoongi ignores them all as they cheer, shooting compliments at the beaming child and applauding her for disarming Jungkook.

Taehyung comes in through the gate, brows raised. “What are we cheering for?”

“I disarmed Uncle Jungkook!” 

“Did you? Do it again, I want to see!”

“No way,” Jungkook cries out. “She’s got a demon swing for a twelve year old. That shit hurts!”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi warns, making the younger blush and bow his head. “Language, please.”

“Yeah,” Nari teases as she picks up his dropped weapon and hands it to him. “Language.” 

Jungkook takes the weapon back from her with a scowl and she beams, flashing him perfect rows of teeth as she bows. Yoongi chuckles as Jungkook mutters under his breath, bowing in return before Nari turns and scampers over to Yoongi, her face red with effort and brow sweaty. 

“Did you see that, dad?” she gushes. “I disarmed Jungkook!”

Yoongi’s heart seizes at the word. It’s used so rarely between them. Something unavoidable, perhaps. For so long he had her call him Yoongi until she was finally corrupted by Namjoon and Seokjin to call them by family names. Dad. Uncle. Her family.

“Yeah,” Yoongi hums, opening his arm up as she plops down on his knee, tired. “It was very impressive. He deserved the smack on the wrist, well done.” 

“Aren’t you proud?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi smiles. “I am, Runt.” 

[starryjkoo]

some random chronically online fandom and shipping thoughts #1

I just feel like ARMYs who are very obviously Y/N’s have NO reason to be judging shippers. I think it’s funny how some of them are so genuinely defensive and put off by shipping in a way I can tell is personal lol (it’s giving jealousy!). I totally understand people not liking shipping/shippers but I’ll never accept judgement from a Y/N, sorry! If you’re posting about only ONE member in a really thirsty manner after every AYS trailer and then turning around and saying “ugh, jkkrs are so annoying and delusional, jikook are brothers!” I know what you are! 🫵

slurping up all these AYS teasers like a starving animal but I’m starting to feel like they’re showing us too much now 😩 don’t spoil all the cute parts please BH!

only extremely sad and chronically online losers think that mass liking hate tweets actually means anything in the real world. a lot of these people need to get a life and go touch grass because the obsession with jm is truly weird and sad.

not everyone who wants th to appear in AYS is a tkkr, because it’s normal for ARMYs to want to see as many members as possible, but it’s kind of obvious with the ones who bring it up every chance they get lol, or the first thing they look for in a new AYS teaser, or just the specific way they talk about it. and my god are there a lot of tkkr ARMYs

I’m self aware that I’m pretty heavily biased, but there’s nothing worse than the ARMYs who hide under the OT7 visage but are CLEARLY heavily biased themselves. I simply do not like hypocrites, maybe some of them are in denial about it, idk. ofc there’s nothing worse than the ones who cosplay and try to create havoc in ARMY spaces, but that’s an entirely different thing. with that said, i’m convinced that at least 90% of active ARMYs are heavily biased at this point and we’d all be better off if they could simply just admit it.

perhaps this is my own bias so feel free to disagree, but imo ARMYs very clearly have a different sort of energy for jm antis and I think its partially because his hate has been so damn normalized in this fandom after years of tkkrs, but also because clearly a vast majority of the ARMY sh*oter accounts are diet solos and tkkrs and they always put an extra amount of scrutiny on things related to jm. they're also the first to bring shipper/solo drama into ARMY spaces (but only when it impacts their ship/bias) and they’re very clearly obviously lurking in solo/shipper territory to find it the way they do. the silence right now from certain accounts really does speak volumes.

sort of related, but the best way to gain a big following on ARMY twt is to get involved in whatever current drama is going on, for example MHJ drama, boycott drama, general fanwars. ARMYs will flock and mass follow these accounts, and a lot of them are diets who gain a platform and then spread their diet narratives later. one really good example is that elo person if anyone remembers all that, they literally were moots w/ tkk akgaes & calling them bestie but rebranded after they started gaining a mass following for “doxxing” and they started gaining attention because they were “debunking” the OG taennie icloud leaks (lol ofc they were a tkkr doing that). anyways they were awful and did a lot of harm, but they got that platform bc a lot of ARMYs flock to toxic accounts like that, especially when somethings going on, and then they’re impossible to cancel.

last shipping thought but we all know why tkkrs and y/n’s are jealous and weird towards jkk but sometimes its actually the same case for a lot of the other bts shippers, especially jk x hl shippers (like what's w/ all the j*nkookers lol) & yoonm*n. and there’s a lot of ARMYs who fall into this category actually. even if they don’t believe their ship is real, sometimes they still feel a bit passive aggressive/jealous bc they would prefer whatever content was with their bias/self-insert instead. theres so many jkk moments that have been really badly OT7’d, like I’ve never seen anything like the way almost the entire fandom rewrote history to make that jk binging jm content jk binging bts content (its legit wild to me).

and ill never forget during the disney docu when someone pointed out how jk likely knew jms apartment password and it got ratio’d at over 4k by someone saying “he probably knows all his hyungs passwords!” and it wasn’t even funny or clever lmao, it was very much giving

anyways, i believe this is one of the reasons sometimes ARMYs at large are weird towards jkk bc even outside of just tkkrs there are a LOT of HL shippers who take it pretty personally, especially if they’re the sort that projects onto one of the members in their ship. tbh, even if it’s not shipping, it’s a bias line thing where they want to fight over jm/jk being closer to their bias than they are to each other.

its whatever and just a petty complaint lol, i dont care who ppl ship/bias but i do find it annoying sometimes bc there are always ppl constantly downplaying jkks friendship and picking it apart and trying to OT7-ify it more than any other duo. its like ppl are really obsessed & its tiring. just give jkk their flowers sometimes and move on, you know? you definitely do not need to ship them or see them as romantic, but just respect their bond and the things about it that are unique to them, god

alright was just getting this out of my system because I was focused on positive vibes only for MUSE, will be going back to (mostly) positive vibes for AYS!

[dearweirdme]

Hello! So I just am looking for advice on how to deal with people hating on us taekookers. It's hard sometimes when commenters make it seem like we are extremely irrational in believing they are a couple.

I even saw someone say, "I used to be a taekooker once, but maturing is realizing they are just brothers." That annoyed me, because I'm a grown ass adult with my own life and partner. So when am I supposed to grow out of it? lol Also, the brothers argument is sooooo dumb to me. They aren't brothers.

I think people also assume that taekookers think that Tae and Jungkook are a couple because we WANT them to be. But that is completely false for me and so many others. Idk about yall, but I was just a straight up BTS fan for a while (back in 2015) and I noticed something different between taekook. That's how I started supporting them. After realizing that they were most likely a couple after years of evidence. It wasn't because I'm some weirdo who is fetishizing them or something. People are so dumb for hating on us for that. It's like seeing a pair of people out in society that you don't know and getting just a vibe that they are a couple. You know? It's not creepy to think a pair of people are dating. lol I think it's just stemmed from homophobia.

Anyways, sometimes it's hard to constantly get hate and get gaslit into thinking we are crazy or something.

Hi anon!

It’s shitty right? It’s not likely to stop any time soon either, kinda comes with the territory.

I don’t really let the hate bother me. I know the hate isn’t really pointed at me as a person, but rather at something I stand for. When someone throws hate at you, it’s basically their insecurities wrapped up into something else. We aren’t idiots, or delusional, or fetishizers, or whatever they like to think of us.. we just see signs of deep love between Tae and Jk.. anyone who hates you because of that just has alternative motives for hating you.

What I personally do is curate my dash really well. I only follow accounts that feel nice or positive to me. I don’t visit Twitter much. I block easily. I don’t easily let other opinions form my own. And I am able to vent on here, and to a few people in dm’s if I need to.

We’ll probably forever be the underdogs anon, but that doesn’t mean we are wrong.

I’ve said something like this before, but I really mean it so I’ll say it again: you are the one who sees love, while they are the ones who spend their energy on hate.

[mimikoolover]

More controversial take, but I don’t even think vmins relationship is all that special. It’s based on being same age friends and Jimins babying of Tae but there is no real substance there, at least not on Jimins part. Army hype up the relationship to a ridiculous degree, obsessively so, but take away the affection and what is there? It’s much more obvious they didn’t spend much time together in chapter 2, and I really want people to know that’s okay and it’s normal. People drift and come back together and the love remains, but to me it highlighted how their bond doesn’t extend much outside of work, where as it is so obvious Jikook share life together.

I know the show isn’t a hard launch of Jikooks relationship (whatever it is) but it isn’t not a hard launch. I mean the enlistment should have done that, shocked people to the core but nope, so the show is it. To me it’s them saying we’re close, deal with it, in a way in which we haven’t seen before. Like jkks know they are but Army at large ignore it, and although they still do, they are showing us them. They said that themselves so I know that’s the point. You can see it so clearly it’s impossible to ignore, highlighted even more by Tae’s presence.

Blogger stormy answered an ask earlier about FS in the show and if it’s present, it’s the ot7 mentions. And whilst I don’t think those mentions are forced, that is so true imo. The notion of the ot7 bond is what keeps BTS going, but I think chapter 2 did give them a much needed break, and time apart, again absolutely normal. These are young men, they need space to live their own lives. But the mention of others was sweet, Jimin calling Joon seeing as he was the only huyng not in MS at the time. It’s probably like calling your dad lol. Joon being the only one who turned to see Golden live counts for something in terms of namkooks relationship. Still though, it proves my thoughts and I think Goldy has said this before, that Jimin is the glue that holds them together for the most part. They all love him lots and he’s their centre I think, he tends to do the most ot7 FS (not a negative). It’s no wonder sometimes JK gets hurt in the process (not always on purpose aka the teasing), but man’s got him some alone time with Jimin and book Tae is there. Must have been frustrating. And for him saying it was better with Tae there, he literally followed what Jimin said first. But that’s the ot7, I don’t actually think they were serious, and obviously wanted to be alone, as it was meant to be for the two of them.

I just love the intimacy and domesticity they have, it’s so natural to them, like breathing, I’ve been in a relationship for 8 years and it reminds me of myself and my partner, of when you’re in your own world (we have no kids so have that freedom to be just us), they leave no room for others, and if they do it’s minimal. Although busy chapter 2 will have allowed them time to be them, no group work or content, no members breathing down their throats or trying to separate them. Just time for them, and it shows.

thank you for your thoughts anon and I agree, the show highlighted jikook's 'chemistry' as even the teasers called it😂I thought the same about vmin for a while (few years lol). I don't necessarily trust that when I see people hype something up between members that it's because something is actually there. I think it's more that those people want vmin to be soulmates (forever) so they will keep insisting on that. which I can sympathise with because if after the military jikook were less close, it would hurt me a lot (not afraid to admit that lol) cause I'm invested in their (first of all) close friendship so I would be delulu about it for a while for sure. but in terms of dynamics, I think from around 2016/2017 is when the vminkook dynamic changed and it was when jikook became closer. I do think everyone in bts loves jimin the most though and like you said he is the glue in that respect. jimin always wanted jk tho even just in the sense that some people like having their person (even as just friends, there's two people at my work who def come as a duo of friends and one is a woman married with kids, the other is guy in a long term relationship with his boyfriend, not saying that jikook are this but just saying that as an example that certain people like to have a partner like that and I get this vibe from jikook that they like having a 'partner'). I think for tae and (probably lol) namjoon it's a bit more to come to terms with because they'd like to be jimin's fav (with tae I also get the vibe that he himself wants to be everyone's fav for the sake of that popularity and adoration in addition to him loving jimin). but from 2017 on when jungkook finally started choosing jimin was when the decline between the soulmates started imo (and jk and tae at the same time as well). and since then the situation within the group is that it's jikook + X given member. they come as a duo and the members know it and it is obvious in AYS.

I think ot7 is fanservice but I also think especially jimin and yoongi are very into the concept of ot7 forever so as much as fans are invested in it, I think the members are too (some more than others). it's fanservice sometimes but it's also I think reassurance for them too? but with jungkook in particular he was always ot7, never claiming to choose a fav which I think is bc he's the youngest and he is careful not to hurt any of their feelings. altho he clearly has a fav and it's jimin lol he never really wants the others to feel like he loves them less I think (and that's when we get the 'jimin is not the main model' dramatics even tho he clearly is lol).

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BPP. I have a question running through my mind lately, and I think it’s a little bit stupid, a little bit legit. I read your thoughts and like your opinions. I think you’re one of the best people who could answer, if not the most appropriate one. Sorry if it sounds dumb, tho.

I’ve been into kpop for a while, now. I can’t say i know the way it works, i can’t say i’m a master of it. But i notice things. I notice the big big impact fanservice has in the industry, for example. It’s literally fundamental. There are a few few companies with sex-mixed groups. Put them apart, the majority are same sex groups. Because with opposite genders in the same group there could be problems, unease, relationships etc.

Then they push same sex fantasies with fanservice and amplified skinship (already present in Korea). And until this point, everything is normal. I mean, we know things work this way.

But here i already notice a controversy. Homophobia is present and rooted in Korea and in the industry, but still they push gay narratives/don’t do anything to debunk them. So they try to “feed” everyone, people who like gay scenarios/moments included.

Then i think about girl groups. Twice, black pink. There’s a lot of explicit touching, explicit affirmations (i like you, your body is stunning, let’s go on a date, you make me blush etc). There’s in bts too, the guys did some nasty things too on cameras, i know. But with girl groups, you can easily notice it’s made up for the cameras but it still happens, and unless i’m missing it, i never saw someone hating or heavily hating on members because of it. Because of some easily misunderstanable sentences/acts.

The same goes for boy groups. I’m thinking of ateez. On of the members (i’m not into them so i don’t know his name) loudly read a comment saying “marry (insert another member’s name)”. And he said “you want me to marry *? You know it’s illegal here”. Then i’m thinking of enyphen, again, i’m not into them, but i saw this clip of two members going live and reading comments about them being a couple/being romantically involved. Shipping.

I’m sorry this is gonna be a long one, but before making my point i need to say these things.

Then we have Somi. She explicitly said she has a lot of women flirting with her, and she said she wants to conquer women too. She said she likes Han SoHee and dmed her on insta, but she didn’t reply. She even kissed Hyuna in a video posted on the internet less than a month ago.

Then we have Bibi. She kisses girl fans during her concerts and pictures of it are shared everywhere. She’s still famous, all of these people i’m mentioning are famous, are known, are in the korean spotlight, more or less. And their careers are not fucked up. Sometimes it’s fanservice, some others it’s who they are. Somi really likes women too, imo, and Bibi as well.

I get that for women it might be easier. There’s a group (a big group) of people who prefers gay interactions between women than gay interactions between men. They find it pleasing, and it’s an homophobic, toxic masculinity and women fetishization related preference.

But still, most people are fine with it. Yeah someone probably criticized it, probably hated on them because of these behaviours, but at the end of the day everything is fine for them.

I’m thinking about J-Hope too, who has gay friends and publicly shares pictures with them. He even visited a gay club and, again, probably some people criticized him for it and i’m just not on that side of the internet and the fandom, but at the end of the day his career is not gonna end because of it. Most People are fine with that too. He wears nail polish, tae does too. Can you imagine Jm or Jk doing that publicly? The hate they’d get? Maybe i’m wrong and it wouldn’t be like that; but that’s how i feel.

Then i think about Holland. His coming out had a huge impact on his career, his life. The aggressions he was victim of; his music not being so followed and famous, probably also because of said coming out.

I think about every kpop artist who is closeted and can’t say it. I think about Jikook, about Jimin who had to “play” with colors, lyrics, temporary tattoos and playful interviews (such as the “I think he likes men-> I don’t like you” one) in order to silently whisper that he’s not straight. That there’s more he can’t show.

And then Jikook in general. They could never afford to do what ateez and enhypen did. Never, bpp. We know that. So why?

Why is there this difference, why is it so… difficult for me to get how this works. Why can they do it, but Jikook can’t? But bts can’t? Why is there a limit for some idols, and some others are almost completely free? What am I missing?

I hope my question is clear, bpp. I really do, because i feel like i made a mess here all over the place. I’m sorry about it, thank you for reading this, if you did.

I appreciate you🫶

***

Hi Anon,

Don’t apologize.

So if I’m reading this right, you’re asking why the reaction to jikook showing queer expression is so much more negative than you see it for anyone else / other duos and groups?

Or, maybe quoting you is better:

“And then Jikook in general. They could never afford to do what ateez and enhypen did. Never, bpp. We know that. So why?”

I’m not sure if what I’ll say will make sense, and this might seem silly, but I think one reason jikook/BTS appear to have fewer liberties on things like explicit/overt shows of love/attraction between them, even under the umbrella of ‘fan service’ and compared to other groups, is because BTS is the biggest group in the world. Just by virtue of the group’s prominence, BTS being very closely tied with several government appointments and massive brands in Korea (Samsung and Hyundai)… there’s a greater expectation of conformity for them compared to other groups. There’s just more at stake for them.

I mean, do you recall the lead up to the enlistment news? How people were picking them apart, people who didn’t think they should be exempt where digging into their old footage trying to find anything to turn public opinion against the group. It was kinda crazy. In that sort of environment and in any case, the prudent thing would be to wait till after military service to expect more freedom in expression for a boy group. And perhaps that’s what we’ll see with jikook and BTS in general come 2026.

But also, the thing is, jikook have still been quite loud… in some ways even louder than Somi’s declarations (but certainly not Holland’s and the cost to him and any openly gay artist is apparent to see). GCF in Tokyo is so loud, it couldn’t be louder if JK got a megaphone, climbed to the top of the Eiffel Tower and screamed that he loves Jimin in the four cardinal directions. No matter what anybody says about GCF in Tokyo, that video itself is very clear and it says it all.

Then there’s the gesture of Jimin flying from Paris to Korea just to spend some time with Jungkook on his birthday, and then more recently, flying to NYC to be with JK during Seven debut. There’s the way their families treat them both. There’s that OT7 live where Jimin kept one half of his body literally glued to Jungkook’s on the couch, hooking his arms to keep their thighs together that not even air could pass between them. Then there’s fucking Rosebowl, pardon my French.

Like, even with all the scrutiny, jikook have still been able to say what they actually want about what they each mean to each other. Jimin is usually private and careful with how he speaks in general, he’s not the kind of person to talk the way Somi did about anything, really. So expecting a similar level and style of communication/queer expression, for jikook compared to these other people, really isn’t fair to Jimin or Jungkook to begin with, I think.

It’s totally okay if as a fan you’d like to see more open, simple and consistent expressions of queerness the way we have it in OnlyOneOf, Ateez, Bibi, etc. Those groups are made in some ways precisely to scratch that itch. It’s good the way they talk about queer attraction draws you in or resonates with you, but I’m not sure it’s fair to expect other people, in this case jikook and/or BTS, to express their relationship and queer feelings the same way.

If you’re approaching this solely from the point of concern for jikook, I totally get it. Korea is very homophobic. But within their immediate team, I hope and trust they are surrounded by more good people than bad, people who will aim to protect the queer members. There’s no use worrying about this for long, since they’ll just have to learn to take care of themselves.

I could’ve totally missed your question or what you’re actually asking, Anon. If so let me know. But the above is also what I think.

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

j, m, o and z please Lemon

Thank you D!! I forgot I queued that post 🤭

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

SO MANY!!!!! Oh my gosh. Umm Captive Prince?? Still have no idea what that is. Emmerdale? To be totally honest I’ve been very surprised by the amount of people who are very passionate Taylor Swift fans 😘

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

Marjan Marwani!!!

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

A song about a dreamer who’s searching for roses in a city that’s been paved over? Who runs away because the place he’s in isn’t good for him anymore… hmm TK Strand!!

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

Okay! In light of today’s interview with Brian Michael Smith I shall ramble about Paul. I am hoping he gets some really good plots in season 5! I’m so excited to see how his friendship with Marjan is challenged, and ultimately made stronger! I’m excited to see how things develop with Asha, and how she fits into the story. Brian said she’s become a support system for Paul, does that affect his friendships in any way?

Also I really want to see his mom and sister again! I headcanon that Naomi visits sometimes and she’s obsessed with Tarlos and looks up to Marjan and Nancy like big sisters and they take her bowling and to Marjan’s roller derby matches and out to shows and stuff. And I want to learn more about his father and what his relationship with him was like and how his passing away young affected Paul.

Just! Give me all the Paul content!

Also!!!!! I need need NEED to see Paul get his revenge on Carlos for Puddinggate. That better be who is on the other line in this bts photo, I am so serious. @guardian-angle22 are you with me?

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