#my first mv!!!!! best bts mv!!!!!!!!

[sailoryooons]

Gods of the Dark | One | 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: 21,606

☾ 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, intense fight scenes, mentions/light depictions of an abusive family, discussions of gender roles and forced marriages, attempted murder via drowning, a physical fight between a man and a woman in the middle of a storm, sexual dream sequences featuring making out, biting (light), grinding, reader having flashbacks of trauma, a lot of thoughts about reader's terrible parents, a sort of power imbalance in the sense that reader is in Yoongi's realm as a part of a deal.

☾ Published: July 9, 2023

☾ A/N: It's finally here! This was originally supposed to be two giant chapters, but I cannot manage my time in a way to write to ~40k chapters and also fit all of this in a way that is not overwhelming or feels like it makes sense, so I have chosen to do this in 4 chapters of roughly 20k words! Thank you to everyone who has hyped me up for this idea, helped me work out some ideas, or listened to me struggle to write this because I was so unsure about the chemistry between Yoongi and reader at first. I am really excited to be writing this and have taken this in quite a different direction than the original idea when I had when I watched the Lilith MV, but that's okay. I heavily draw on inspiration from the Lilith MV, the song Possession of a Weapon by Ashnikko, The Sandman by Neil Gaiman, the movie The Witch, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab and the original myth of Hades and Persephone (where I got the deal/living in Yoongi's world idea from).

Special thank you to my amazing beta team who really helped make this fic what it is and make sure it was legible: @theharrowing and @here2bbtstrash

☾ 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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Tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve

Change like a season

-

It begins with rain.

White sheets of it beating against the window in a gentle murmur, a soft leak in the corner of the kitchen dripping into the metal bucket your mother has set out. The storm brings a cool wind with it, blowing in on the back porch where your father rocks back and forth in his chair, watching the deluge. 

Shivering, you throw another log into the fireplace, pulling your shawl closer as orange embers spark and crackle, drifting up the shute. The smell of burning cedar grows and you smile, sitting down in front of the licking flames and holding out your hands to warm your palms. 

Behind you at the kitchen table, your mother pulls a thread and needle through a dress she’s been working on, stitching purple flowers into the sleeves. You wonder if she’s making it for the neighbor's daughter, a girl a few years younger than you to be wed soon. 

Mother makes some of the best stitching in the village, her practiced hands etching artful flowers and vines and designs on the sleeves and skirts of most of the village women. She’s tried for years to pass the craft on to you, but your fingers aren’t nearly as nimble and your eye for art is sorely lacking. 

What you lack in art you make up for in stories, though. Head in the clouds, swimming in worlds, places and things you’ve never seen. Lives and people who only exist in your mind, entire fantasies with more colors and sights and smells than your tiny little world contains. 

You’d write them down if you could. Writing and reading is not a woman’s craft, though, and you know better than to press your father on the subject any further than you have in the past. A terse word from him and your raw knuckles after being forced to do the wash alone for weeks kept you from bringing up the topic of learning to read and write ever again, especially when you remember the sting of his slap when you pushed too far.

Still, you have your mind. You have the ability to dream up worlds and twist fantasies together, to daze off and pretend that you’re somewhere else. That you’re living another life.

You have the days where you finish working at the inn early, sitting in the corner of the room with hard bread and cheese, listening to the town’s storyteller whisper tales and myths to the children of the village.

For now, it will suffice. 

When the rain finally slows in the late afternoon, it’s cloudy and cool outside, the perfect temperature for a walk. Pulling on a pair of linen pants and a tunic, you creep toward the door, hoping to avoid the attention of your parents as they begin to prepare dinner in the kitchen, their movements methodical and silent. 

Carefully, you slide boots on your feet. As you reach for the front door, hidden from the view of the kitchen, you hear your mother call your name. You pause, closing your eyes and grimacing as you call back, “Yes?”

“Where are you going? It’s wet and cold outside.”

“Just for a short walk.”

“You’re going to catch a cold,” she protests. Her steps move near you. You pull the door open and step into the wet air, eager to get away from her. “Come help us with dinner.”

“I’ll see you shortly, the weather is lovely!”

Before your mother can come around the corner and pin you with her disappointed stare, you’re down the slippery steps and sloshing into the yard, mud and grass sucking at your steps as you hurry. You hear your father yell something like dammit, girl but you can’t be sure, the sounds of birds and the bugs swallowing his curses as you rush through the front yard.

The world is covered in a layer of fine mist, tree boughs heavy with rain as they drip drip drip onto the forest floor around you. Thick, gray clouds hide the sun still. Thunder rolls in the distance, promising more rain through the night. You don’t mind, diving into the darkness of the trees on a well-worn path through the woods.

Water floods the path up to the ankle, soaking your boots. You grin and kick your feet as you walk, watching the ripples flow outward. Water mosquitoes dance on top of the surface of the flood and you note little tadpoles swim by, confirming that the river by your house is flooding up over the bank and washing into the mainland. 

This is common most summers. Your house is out of the way from the town, almost a thirty minute walk. This far north, you’re only ten minutes from the edge of the slow-moving river that floods yearly turning the land around your property into a marsh. 

It’s your favorite time of year. A heron startles as you wander through the trees, shaking its white wings and shedding water as it hurries away on long, thin legs. You spot a snake swimming through the reeds, rushing away from you once it senses you sloshing through. 

Closer to the river, you pause. It’s hard to tell where the embankment dips down with it flooded. You can see where the flood moves faster, powered by the depth of the river and the overflow from the lake up north. Leaning against a tree, you look around this world of water. 

It seems alien. Trees block out the sky and are reflected in the surface of the flood, giving the illusion that you stand between two worlds, two dimensions. 

What would that be like, you wonder. 

According to the high priest in town, there are other dimensions. There are the heavens for the gods of light and love, who bless the world with fire and harvest and rain and oceans, who protect the people and who will absolve you of all sin and greed if you pray to them hard enough and accept them as your patrons. Who will love you only if you are devout.

You don’t believe in them for a second. If those gods of love and light do exist, they are not entirely good. They have never answered your prayers, have never saved you from pain or from sorrow. You have begged the gods to give you a new life, to let you leave. To let you go somewhere far away.

They have been silent. They were silent when your father beat you after the first time you rejected a marital match. They didn’t help you when he burned all your materials when you tried to teach yourself the shapes and sounds of letters.

So you stopped praying to them. 

There are other gods, of course. Other places for the wicked, dark gods full of trickery and greed, who seek only to fill the world with sin and deceit, who desire to make humans suffer and lose themselves in hedonism and debauchery. Those gods have a place too, the dark underworld for those who should be punished and reminded what it is to be full of sin. 

You’ve never prayed to them either, too afraid of what it would cost you. But you wonder if they answer or if they too watch the world from a mountain so high that they cannot bother to help those who need it. 

Still, you wonder what it would be like to walk between two worlds. To see one reflected in the other, to fall face first into the cool water only to surface in another place, almost an exact replica of where you’re from. 

It would be nice. Perhaps there you wouldn’t be a disappointing daughter who has turned away every suitor in the village, much to your father’s rage. There, you would be allowed to pursue reading and writing. You’d have the agency to sail the world and see the ocean for the first time, to feel the freezing spray of the seas on your face while you hunt the coast for something lost. 

Always something lost. 

In all of your fantasies, you’re looking for something. Sometimes, you’re not sure what it is you’re looking for, you just know that something needs to be found. Other times, it’s a specific object or a person, something that, deep down, you know represents the thing you desire to find most: freedom. 

A small school of fish swim by your feet. They can’t be any larger than your pinky finger, scurrying along before they’re swept up in the suction of the flowing river. Sighing, you push off the tree and begin to head back home, swatting at your bare arms where gnats bite at your sweaty skin. 

Dark presses in as you walk back. You had stayed in the woods later than you intended, mind drifting far off among the sounds of the world around you. A cool tingle slides down your neck as you walk, water breaking around you. 

You pause. It’s the same feeling that you get whenever you spend far too long in the woods and the sun goes down. It feels like there’s someone there with you, just at your back. Slowly, you turn to look over your shoulder but there’s no one there, just the warm press of something you can’t see. 

When it happened the first time, you’d been so afraid you ran home. Now, though, you smile and look down at the ground as you keep walking. The presence, whether it’s real or something you have made up in your head, is always comforting. Always there, a gentle press of feeling. 

There are candles burning in the windows and an owl hoots in greeting when your house appears. Inside, you kick off your shoes and rush to meet your parents at the silent dinner table. Both of them look up at you, your mother’s mouth pinched, eyes weary. Your father’s gaze is thunderous as he picks up cutlery and begins to cut into his potato in saw-like motions, his knuckles going white.

You sit down without a word, bow your head to pretend to pray. Your mother clears her throat, drawing your attention. “It’s after dark. You missed your prayers.” 

It doesn’t matter. You weren’t going to pray anyway. But the way your parents look at you makes you drop your eyes down to the table, their expressions alarmed. Were you really about to pray after the sunset, when the benevolent gods were no longer listening? The only gods available to you now are dangerous. Violent. Tricky. 

Dinner is dry and too heavily salted. Still, you don’t complain. Somewhere in the world, you’re sure that there are wonderful feasts being held. Plates and platters of honey-glazed meats, roasted pheasant and charred filets. Whipped sweets and colorful confectionaries, dripping fruits and sugary drinks. 

None of those places exist anywhere that you’ve ever seen, but you like to imagine them as you chew your way through an oppressively silent meal. He says nothing, but you can tell your father is angry once again. Just as well, he at least keeps it to himself through the meal and says nothing when you’re done. 

“I’ll do the dishes,” you offer quickly when your parents finish. It’s an olive branch and they know it. They accept anyway, letting you gather plates as the soft hush of rain begins again. 

Rain washes out the night. You can’t see anything beyond the water that runs off the roof over the back porch as you dip your rag into warm water, scrubbing at the plates before setting them to dry in the stack next to you. 

Frogs croak, their loud voices blending together into the roar of the rain. Every now and again, lightning flashes above and thunder shakes the sky. You feel it vibrate through your ribs and you smile, inhaling the charged air. 

“... doesn’t have a choice!” You turn toward the open doorway. You can’t see your parents but the window is open to their room, voices coming in and out of the rain. “... force her! I’ve had… and he’s already agreed.”

You frown, stopping your scrubbing to lean further, straining your ears. “This won’t go well,” your mother says. 

“I don’t give a damn! It’s already done, woman. Enough.”

The rest of the conversation is drowned out by thunder. You frown and turn back to your task, trying to piece together what they’re talking about. You think back to your mother stitching the dress before dinner and think perhaps they’re gossiping about the neighbor again. She wasn’t happy that she was being married off and everyone knew it.

Still, she’s doing it. She’s stronger than you. It’s hard to imagine going through with something you don’t want, to live a life shackled to another person who doesn’t love you. Whose only purpose is to coexist with you and reproduce. To run a household and get through each and every day, the same as last.

It’s hard to say if your parents are in love. They are tender, at times, but you can’t ever point out a moment that your mother or father seem truly happy. Content isn’t the same as happiness. Not really. While they work together well and seem to have struck up a balance after the years, there’s nothing in the way they move through life that seems joyful. 

You had asked your mom if she was happy once. She gave you a funny look and said, I have a roof above my head and food on the table. How could I not be? 

Her response puzzles you still. To live is not to be happy. Being alive is just that - being alive. A bare minimum. But truly being happy is something else. At least, that’s how you understand it. How the heroes and characters in stories and tales live their lives, fighting for happiness. 

Later that night, you forget all about their whispers behind the sheets of rain. You’re tired and the storm is soothing, making you dream of a far away land where there are two armies entrenched in war, battling for their kingdoms and lighting the sky with storm magic. 

Another dream. Another fantasy. 

-

In your dream, a soft mouth meets yours. The kiss is slow, tongue dragging against yours, tasting of something sweet, mouth warm. It smells like clove and cinnamon, and though you don’t open your eyes to see the mouth that slides against yours, you know you are safe. 

-

It ends in darkness.

Dusk has settled around your home like a funeral shroud. Your father has been gone all day, your mother flippant when you ask about his whereabouts. Your mother is a painted picture of anxiety: mouth pinched, darting eyes that fail to meet yours, and hunched shoulders. It makes your palms sweat, the way she avoids you in the house. 

Rain comes down in patterns again, bands of storms floating by and turning the world gray. You don’t have to go to the inn with the road flooded, so you spend the day at the window instead, watching each storm flash by, listening to the frogs and watching the birds pick through bug-filled waters between each deluge. 

When the sun begins to set, you find your mother standing near the window, looking through wet glass as she chews the corner of her lip. She wipes her hands on her dress, not picking up that you’re standing in the doorway watching her.

The gown she has been stitching for the past few days lays on the table. It’s a beautiful thing, bursting with intricate flowers on the sleeves and the skirts. You don’t enjoy dresses - much less the kind for marriage - but you admire the careful needlework. 

“It’s a good dress,” you tell her. She startles from where she stands at the window, whirling around to face you. “One of your best.”

“Yes. I-” something crosses her face that’s unreadable. “Would you try it on for me? I want to make sure I got the sizing right.”

You shrug and pick it up. It’s not the first time she’s used you for sizing and you’re sure it won’t be the last. You just hope that she doesn’t make you stand on a stool for hours to place pins in the skirt, mapping where she needs to take in the seams and make the fabric fold. 

The material is a little scratchy when you put it on. It’s snug across the chest and a little bit long at the wrist, but the material ripples over you like water. Outside of your room, the sound of your father’s voice echoes. He sounds more jovial than usual, laughing loudly - another voice is with him. 

Frowning, you work the buttons on the side of the dress to secure it shut, pulling the fabric into place. It isn’t often that your father has guests over, but you can assume it’s one of his friends he has over for dinner. You make a sour face at the thought that perhaps it’s Mr. Laudermill and his son Nathaniel again, a family your father has tried to pawn you off on before. 

The list of people your father has tried to get you to marry is astounding. It’s become a joke in the town, a game of who will he ask next? At first, there were plenty of families who offered their sons to make the union. Now, after how vehemently you have protested for your right to pick your husband yourself, it’s you who is rejected when your father makes dowry offers.

It seems - much to your advantage - that the men of the town and even the neighboring villages grew tired of the girl who liked to say no. It gives you small satisfaction to know that sheer inconvenience has earned you freedom alongside your mother’s unwillingness to force you. 

Still, the Laudermills are a little persistent. Not your father’s favorite option he has ever brought up, but it was one that didn’t say no. 

You enter the main house with minor trepidation, uneager to spend the evening sighing at Nathaniel’s terrible jokes and attempts to win you over. You wonder if it’s sheer pride that brings him back this time, upset that he cannot beat the town's little conundrum. The unconquerable conquest. You get the feeling that’s why he and his father visit for dinner sometimes, Nathaniel’s pride unwilling to back down from the challenge. 

You’d respect him more if he had more admiration for the word no. 

Nathaniel and his father are in the main room of your home, speaking in laughing tones to your father. Your mother stands near the open back door, hands wringing together. There is another person in your house that you don’t expect, though. The village’s high priest nods his head along with something that your father is saying, wrinkled hands clasped in front of his robes.

Time seems to slow down. You take in the tight expression on your mother’s face, her eyes drifting over to the priest who is dressed in ceremonial purple robes, an air of professional courtesy about him. He’s nodding to Nathaniel who is speaking now, and it’s when you really look at him, dressed in nice linen pants, a long sleeved shirt and an ornate vest, that you put the pieces together. 

Too slowly do you react as your father turns to you. His smile is forced and his gaze is burning with warning when he gestures. “There’s our bride!”

The word sinks in like a blade. Right between the ribs and up, its point poking dangerous at your heart as your blood begins to roar in your ears. You’re frozen to the spot, staring at them from the threshold of your room. You can feel your pulse throbbing in your neck, your hands shaking. 

“You look beautiful,” Nathaniel says, grinning. It’s a genuine smile, a proud one. Something that says finally. “I’m so glad you’re ready, after all this time.”

“I… what?”

In a moment of razor-sharp clarity, you remember the conversation your parents were having last night, soft words whispered under the cover of the storm. You remember something about forcing her and someone having already agreed. 

No. No. Nonononononono. 

You don’t realize you’re speaking out loud as you back up into your room, the horror settling in as the rain begins to tap on the roof. Your mother looks crestfallen but remains silent as your father’s smile tightens and his face reddens. 

When he says your name, it’s full of warning. The back of your legs hit your bed and your weak knees buckle. You sit down with a huff and shake your head. “You can’t do this,” you whisper. You can’t find your voice, can’t work your throat louder. “You cannot make me marry.”

“Of course I can,” your father hisses. His smile drops and in its place is something dangerous. Horrific. The villain of all your dreams and epic fantasies. “I have given you more than enough time to choose. You have not. As the man of this house-”

“No!” you bark back, cutting him off and shooting to your feet. “I am a person-”

“You are a woman!” he roars, making the high priest flinch. “Your purpose is to grow up, get married, mind the household and provide an heir! You are the only fiendish woman in this entire forsaken village who seems to misunderstand this!”

“It is not my purpose!”

“It is, and you will fulfill it!” he hisses. “You will marry this man before the gods, with my blessing and the witness of the priest.” 

Behind you, thunder rolls. The rain comes down harder. Frogs croak loudly, bracketed by the sound of the trees bending with the weight of the wind. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at the people before you. Your mother with tears in her eyes, your father with fury in his face, the priest with disappointment and Nathaniel. Nathaniel with glee. With a grin. With a smirk. 

“I won’t do it,” you whisper. 

Before they can argue, you turn on your heel and leap onto your bed. Your father and Nathaniel rush at the doorway, their steps pounding behind you as you crawl through the window, your ribs slamming on the sill as you lean face forward. Rain soaks you immediately, your hands gripping the sill as you haul your middle half over the edge, intending to just flip down into the mud. 

Hands yank at your legs and you scream, a feral sound ripping through your lungs as you kick backward violently. You’re yanked back toward your room viciously, rib cage aching where you slide on the concrete frame. With another savage kick, you make contact and hear a loud shout before the hands drop from your waist. 

Pushing harshly, you throw yourself the rest of the way through the window, falling the few feet down to land with a splash. Your father is screaming inside the house but you’re already slipping to your feet, whatever he says drowned out in the rain. 

You don’t even think. You run, hands picking up the wet-leaden skirts on your dress as you tear off toward the woods. Water rushes around your ankles as you go and you hear commotion at the window as someone clambers through. You don’t dare turn around as you rush to the line of trees, unafraid of the dark but terrified of the slamming footsteps behind you.

It’s impossible to be fast in the flooded woods. You wince as your feet get cut up on rocks and sharp sticks that you can’t see. You trip over roots and kick solid things as you slog forward, biting back a cry as you try to flee. 

“Get back here, you wretched bitch!” Nathaniel screams behind you. 

It never occurred to you that he could say something so violent. It spurs you forward, mud and water sucking your feet down and making your flight sticky and slow. Rain pelts down between the leaves, the storm lighting up the treetops with purple flashes every now and again. Thunder shakes their branches and rumbles through your feet, the water rushing higher and higher. 

Nathaniel slams into you at the waist. You scream as he takes you down, his weight on top of you. Your scream is cut off as your mouth fills with water. You swallow in a panic, body thrumming with alarm as you choke, nose full of water, eyes burning. You can hear the dull roar of water, the swish of your tangled limbs on the floor. 

Clawing at him, you feel your nails rip down soft flesh and hear a muted yell. He lifts his weight off of you and you sit forward, breaking the surface and gasping for air, retching. Your lungs and nose burn as you gasp for air, fighting to get a breath in. 

Nathaniel is on you again, his hand going for your hair as he digs his fingers in hard, yanking at your scalp. Your hands fly to his wrist and you scream again, pulling at him, trying to free yourself. Tears smart your eyes from the stinging pain as he yanks hard enough that you think he’ll tear you right apart. 

“Fucking ungrateful,” he barks.

Your feet slide in the mud as he uses your buoyancy in the knee deep water to haul you back toward the house. You twist in his grip, mewling in panic and pain as you work to get your feet under you and fight back. You let go of his arm and throw a weak punch at his ribs. He grunts but doesn’t let go, even as you twist, hands shooting to the ground, digging through soaked earth and weeds until you feel the hard, rough shape of a rock. 

Grabbing it, you lift your hand from the water and bring it down hard on Nathaniel’s wrist. He screams and lets go of your hair. Your fingers ache from the blow but you don’t waste precious minutes, scrambling to your feet and sloshing away from him again. He’s already gripping at your dress, fingers ripping at the fabric to get a hold of you. 

Desperation claws at you and you scream for help. You don’t know if anyone else is out here in the dark of the woods but you don’t care. Bleeding, in pain, and terrified, you tear through the water, the rock clutched in your fingers, rushing in the dark as Nathaniel gives chase.

“Please!” you scream at the dark. “Anyone, please!” 

A thread of thought slivers through you about the gods. Praying to the gods has never gotten you anywhere. It didn’t make your father let you read. It didn’t get you out of your town. It didn’t save you from this. The supposed gods who rule with light and love had never heard you and you had long stopped believing in them.

But you’d never prayed to the gods of the dark. The gods who only listen to words whispered after the setting sun. 

“Please,” you beg, turning your head to the dark sky. Lighting flashes and thunder rumbles. Cool wind brushes against your face, wind that feels like it whispers I’m listening. “Please,” you scream again. “Help me, I’ll give you whatever you want. Help me!”

Nathaniel takes you down by the waist again. You gasp for air this time as your face slaps the water with a sting. The current is rushing faster here, pulling at you. Deeper. Colder. You’re close to the river, and you feel the suction of the force of the flow tugging at your body as Nathaniel digs his fingers into the meat of your arms. 

This time, he doesn’t pull you with him. He holds you down, shoving you deeper and deeper until you realize that he’s no longer interested in bringing you back. You kick at him, you tear at him. You slam his wrist with the rock again but his other hand grabs yours, wrenching the weapon away from you. 

Your lungs are screaming and water is rushing into your nose as oxygen escapes you. His grip is firm and you begin to panic. All you can think is help help help help. Please help. 

Bubbles escape your mouth as you’re forced to breathe out again. You’re running out of time and pain starts to build in your chest. You feel the way your lungs squeeze, needing air. You let out more air and press your lips tight, desperately trying not to inhale. 

Breathe in, your instincts scream. Breathe breathe breathe breathe. 

Agony. You’re in agony as you open your mouth in a final cry, unable to form the words. Unable to scream and ask for a higher power that you only believe in at this moment to help you. 

Water fills your mouth. You swallow it whole, feel it go down as you begin to spasm. 

You’re going to die. 

And then Nathaniel’s hands are gone. It takes you a moment to realize that there’s no crushing grip on your arms and in the brief moment of realization, you barely manage to push up. To break the surface and vomit, water coming out of you in a stinging, horrid mess. Your stomach turns and you feel your chest squeeze as you choke.

The storm is still raging around you, water pulling at you and pressing you into the rough bark of a tree. Blinking tears from your eyes, you look around but it’s too dark to see. You can hear Nathaniel looking for you, screaming your name in the dark. 

The back of your neck tingles. There’s a feeling in the air behind you - that sliver of breath that you often sense when you’re out in the woods alone just after dark. Like something or someone is there with you, just behind you. 

“What is it you want?” a deep, dark voice whispers. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end and you feel chilled to the bone. The voice is like none you’ve ever heard, sensual and dizzying. 

“Want?”

“You asked for help.” The voice switches to your other ear and you don’t dare turn around to find the speaker. “What do you want?” 

“What can you give?”

The voice chuckles. The sound makes you shiver, your eyelids fluttering. The voice purrs, “I can give you anything you dream, little lamb. Tell me: what do you want?”

You think about it. Lightning lances through the sky and for a brief moment, the world is a flash of silver. You see Nathaniel in the light, a few feet away from you. He’s bloody and heaving, his eyes snapping to where you hide against the tree.

“Freedom,” you gasp as the world falls to darkness again. “I want freedom.”

“What will you give me?”

“What do you want?” you beg, hearing Nathaniel move toward you.

There’s a soft hum and you feel lightheaded at the sound. “Your time.”

“My time?”

“Your time in exchange for freedom, little lamb. Better hurry, this offer is about to expire.” 

Nathaniel screams in a rage. Sloshes closer to you. Your heartbeat quickens. You can feel it in your chest, hear it in your ears, your pulse throbbing as he nears. 

“Okay,” you whisper, voice coming out shaky. 

“Then tell me you accept.”

You take a deep breath. “I accept.” 

There’s a brush at the nape of your neck, warm and soft. Though you’ve never been kissed before, you think that it’s the press of lips, intimate and barely there. Something inside you flickers to life, like a new instinct that has opened its eyes for the first time. You’re aware of another presence, a soft buzz that presses down on you as it stands up next to you. 

Thunder rolls and you feel someone brush by you.  A hand touches your cheek almost fondly, fingers dragging along the curve of your jaw. Blinking slowly, you lean into the touch, seeking its comfort. You don’t know who it belongs to. All you know is that just the feel of fingers on your skin has your stomach flipping, your toes curling. 

The hand drops from your face and you immediately miss the contact. Opening your eyes, you see another flash of lightning. There’s someone standing in front of you dressed in black, slick with rain. You can’t make out anything much, just the shape of a man in a dark cloak. 

A god. You know he’s a god, whoever this savior is. You know that something has heard your screams in the dark and has come to give you what you wanted. What you begged for. 

“She is no longer available to you,” the god announces to Nathaniel. It’s not the same whisper as a moment ago, but a deep, raspy voice. Dark. Demanding. “She’s mine.” 

“That’s my betrothed,” Nathaniel answers, though it comes out like a question, his voice trembling. “I– she belongs to-”

“Me,” the dark god assures. A loud clap of thunder makes you flinch. “Goodbye, Nathaniel Laudermill.” 

Nathaniel screams. You don’t know what happens. There’s just his shout of terror in the dark and a roll of thunder that shakes the trees and rattles the earth. You feel the vibration in the water from the unearthly thunder before you realize that this sound, this trembling, is the wrath of a god. 

The sound fades and the shaking stops. You feel more than see the god in front of you turn to face you, a sweeping warmth as he bends down. You cannot make out any features, your vision swimming with bursts of color in the lack of light. 

“You’re with me now,” he assures you. “And you should not be afraid.” 

Gentle hands reach out and cradle your face. You’re suddenly tired, every pain in your body weighing you down like stones, pulling at you until you’re closing your eyes and succumbing to the heavy exhaustion.

The last thing you remember is your whispered name on reverent lips. 

-

You’re dreaming. Your eyes are closed in this dream but you feel light and warm. Fingers brush over your cheek, soft and reverent. You hear a gentle, deep humming, a pleasant melody. It smells like clove and cinnamon, making you drift further into the dream. You lean into the hand cupping your face and hear a deep chuckle before drifting off into nothingness. 

-

The first thing you notice is the smell of clove and cinnamon. It’s a soothing scent that sends your heart fluttering as you roll over. The blankets wrapped around you feel divine, soft with a high loft that feels like you’re wrapped in clouds. The mattress is decadent, sucking you in further as you settle in on your side, inhaling deeply.

Then you remember hands tearing at your legs. Ripping you by the hair. Water filling your lungs and throat. The flash of lightning and the cold rain as you were dragged under a flood again and again. 

With a gasp you sit up in bed, heart hammering. You still as you look around, mouth dropping open at the opulent room. The bed is the largest thing you’ve ever seen, on a low platform swimming with charcoal colored sheets and pillows. The headboard looks like polished obsidian, glinting in the low light provided by dozens of flickering candles.

Stone walls make up the room, rough rock with sconces of flickering flames. The room is sprawling with a sitting area a step down from the bed, decorated with chaise lounges, a coffee table and high-backed chairs situated in front of a fireplace. Flames crackle on a log, orange light dancing across the room. On either side of the fireplace are bookshelves that stretch up to the high ceiling.

Across from the bed are open double doors where you can see a magnificent bathroom. From your vantage point, you can just make out sinks carved from a hewn rock and what looks like a trickling waterfall sluicing down the wall. 

Turning to the left, there is a set of glass doors, a balcony just on the other side. It appears to be nighttime outside, thousands of stars glittering through the glass and the largest moon you’ve ever seen suspended in the sky like a lone coin.

Carefully, you peel back the covers. You’re still in the wedding dress your mother made you. It’s stained and tattered and bloodied, making your stomach flip uncomfortably as you look down on it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you place your feet on the stone flooring, expecting it to be cold to the touch. 

It isn’t. Warmth radiates from the floor through the soles of your feet, making you sigh, tension bleeding from your shoulders as you close your eyes for a moment. Though the aches and the pains from being scratched and hit and torn down are gone, you wince as you recall them. 

Your parents were going to force you to marry Nathaniel. You don’t know how you missed the signs before, how you thought that there was any other path. With your elbows pressed to your knees, you hang your head in your hands, pressing your eyes shut and taking another shuddering breath.

This time, a sob slips out. Somehow, you had tricked yourself into thinking that your parents would abide by your wishes to make your own choices. Foolish, you realize. Your father had not grown complacent. He had been biding his time, waiting to strike. 

The smallest viper has the greatest sting.

And your mother was going to let him do it. The woman who had brought you into the world screaming and bloody was going to pass you off to a man, even if it meant that man dragged you kicking and screaming to the altar. 

Disgust curls in your stomach and your hands turn into firsts, pressing against your closed lids and making bursts of colors flash in your eyes. Split down the middle, one part of you mourns the loss of the parents you thought that you had. The other is an open wound, festering with a hateful infection at the very thought of them. 

The sound of the door opening catches your attention. Your heart leaps as you sit up straight, dropping your hands into your lap as a man slips through the large double doors near the sitting area. Your breath catches in your chest as he sweeps into the room, looping his hands behind his back as he sets his dark eyes on you and approaches. 

He’s the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen, you think. Inky hair falls into his enigmatic eyes. His skin is deep gold, a contrast to the all-black blouse that he wears tucked into black pants. You see the open collar of his shirt revealing a patch of tan skin and an elegant throat, but it’s his face that shatters your mind. 

The man - or god, you think - has a square, masculine jaw offset with a delicate mouth the color of rose petals. His nose is straight and wide and would look ridiculous on anyone else. On him, it’s the perfect balance, his cheekbones high and angular, cutting the roundness of his nose. 

“Good to see you’re awake,” he greets. The man stops at the edge of the step that leads to where the bed sits higher than the rest of the room. You stare and stare and stare at him, unable to process words as he grins at you. His voice is dulcet and warm, but not the voice that promised to save you. “How do you feel?”

“I…” you rasp out and you shake your head, unable to think of anything else.

His mouth quirks and he nods. “It sounds like you had a terrible time. How about you take a well-deserved bath and get out of that terrible dress? Sorry to have left you in it, I was under strict instructions not to invade your personal space.”

“Yes, please.” You hesitate. “Where am I? Whose instructions?”

“You’re somewhere safe with someone who wants you to remain safe.” 

“Where is safe?”

He gives you a secretive smile as he nods toward the bathroom before turning on his heel and striding away. On unsteady feet, you follow him. It helps that the floor is warm, giving you the strength you need to make it down the two steps and across the stone toward the bathroom. 

“I don’t think I’m the right person to answer your question,” he admits. “I’m just here to help you get settled. My name is Taehyung, by the way.”

“Taehyung.” You say the word, familiarizing yourself with the shape of it as you enter the room and stop. 

The bathroom is far more luxurious than you realized from afar. There is a waterfall running down the black rockface between two basins, trickling into a little fountain that drains on the floor. To the right side of the bathroom is a large body of steaming water. 

Herbal scents fill the room as you near the edge of the dark surface of the water. It reminds you of hot springs in a cave near the southern villages, a place you’d only heard of but never seen. It’s massive, surrounded by a smooth, stone edge. There is a corner full of what appears to be salts, soaps and herbs alongside flickering candles. 

Opposite the hot spring is a giant glass window that overlooks mountains and lush greenery. From the window, you can see the entire world of wherever you are stretched out in the most dazzling and wonderful display. You can’t help but feel as though you’re somewhere that belongs in the epitome of night.

“How deep is that?” you ask, turning to Taehyung with a wary expression as you gesture to the body of water. 

His expression softens. “Waist high when you stand in the middle. There is a ledge that you can sit on all the way around. It’s incredibly safe and very warm. I can stand just outside the door if anything goes wrong.”

“Okay.” 

Taehyung points to a stack of clothes resting on a stool near a cabinet full of towels and jars of things. “Those are for you to change into. The towels are for you to dry off, of course. Anything in the bathroom is yours to use.” Taehyung must sense your hesitation, because he gives you a soft smile. “You’re safe here. I promise.” 

“I’d feel better if I knew where here was.”

“Bathe. Relax. Then I’ll take you to him.” 

Taehyung does not give you a chance to ask to whom he refers. He strides out of the room and the door swings shut seemingly on its own. You blink a few times at it, standing in the middle of the warm bathroom in a daze.

Spinning, you look around the room and find yourself drawn to the window. Up close, you realize how high up you are. It’s a bit dizzying, and you look  down at the ground only to see that there is a garden bursting with purple and blue, neat rows of flowers that stretch until they meet a line of trees. 

A world of mountains unfolds beyond the window. You’ve never seen mountains but they are larger than you could have ever imagined, snowcaps stark against the night sky. It’s mesmerizing and a little too big, so you turn away from the window and head for the steaming basin of water. 

Peaking over the edge, you can see the bottom. It doesn’t look that deep, but your stomach twists as you pop the buttons on your dress. Your fingers feel stiff and disjointed as you work to undress. You look down at the ripped threads and the dirty fabric and think about how much time your mother spent stitching it.

Suddenly the dress feels suffocating and you pull hard on the garment, popping buttons from the threads and sending them clattering on the floor. You shed the dress and kick it away from you, stripping off your undergarments and lowering yourself to the edge of the water. 

A sigh leaves your mouth as you slide your feet and legs in first. The water is hot, though not scalding like you expected. Closing your eyes, you remain sitting on the edge for a moment, letting your calves soak and muscles unwind, fingers gripping the edge tight. 

Taking a deep breath, you slide forward a little, firmly placing your feet on the ledge Taehyung spoke of. For a moment, your fear spikes. You feel it sharp in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping the edge of the basin. With a few deep breaths, you carefully slide down to the ledge proper, sinking in the hot water to the chest. 

“I’m not going to drown,” you whisper to yourself. The words come out shaky and you’re not entirely sure that you believe them. “I’m not going to drown, I am not going to drown, I am not going to drown.”

You repeat the mantra until you believe it, your fingers grasping the edge of the stone seat as you try to relax and melt into the water. It takes a while, but you finally grow too tired of remaining tense, taking a deep breath and gaining the courage to relax. 

Gently, you rest your head against the edge of the basin. Heat seeps into your skin and you feel the anxiety bleed out of you, your tensed muscles unwinding. You hadn’t realized how clenched up you were until you let go, and your body sags a little bit in the water. 

Time slips away. Thankfully, your body doesn’t hurt the way you anticipated that it would. Frowning, you press your fingers into your skin where there should be bruises and pain. There is no evidence on your skin that Nathaniel laid his hands on you the night before - the day before? You’re unsure how much time has passed, only that there is an eerie absence of your wounds.

Turning your head, you look at your dress discarded on the floor. There’s certainly evidence of a struggle spattered all over the fabric, but it makes you wonder if the god who answered your prayers has healed you.

A god. 

The thought comes to you in a snap and you stare down at the water, eyes unfocusing as you try to recall the details of what happened. You remember screaming for help, the sound of your desperation ripping through your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever screamed like that, terrified and wild. You remember thinking about the gods, begging them to hear you, willing them to listen. 

Water had been filling your lungs. Crushing out air. You remember the rush of the stream around you as it pulled at your fighting body. Nathaniel’s hands gripping you and holding you under viciously, fingers like claws as he tried to drown you. 

Then you surfaced and choked, completely shrouded in darkness…. And you remember that quiet voice made of smoke and shadow. Thinking of it now makes you shiver, despite how hot the water is. The voice had promised you freedom in exchange for time and had taken you to wherever this place was. 

You open your eyes, unsure when you had even closed them. Glancing around the room once more, you decide there is no way that you’re anywhere close to home. You’ve never seen anything like this bathroom before, a feat of what appears to be architecture and maybe magic. 

Soaps and salts line the edges of the bathing pool. When you feel brave enough, you dart across the middle like a minnow, trying not to think about how you nearly crossed death’s bridge in a shallow body of water not long ago. 

Unscrewing lids, you smell each of the glass bottles of liquid, humming in delight. You settle on a hard bar of soap that smells like lavender and mint. It feels good to scrub your skin raw. You imagine that you’re washing away all of the memories of Nathaniel’s fingers on your skin and the scratchy dress your mother made for you.

Fingers and feet pruned and skin feeling stripped of a top layer, you reluctantly exit the bath. The towels are the softest thing you’ve ever felt. You run the fabric between your fingers, tilting your head up at the sky and sighing. Wherever this dark god has taken you doesn’t seem so terrifying, yet it puts you more on edge, these luxuries. 

The clothes Taehyung left out for you fit well enough, though it’s obvious they are not your exact measurements. He’s provided you with soft, black pants and a loose, black tunic with intricate designs that look like clouds on the sleeves and collar. 

You hesitate when you’re ready to leave the bathroom. So far, it seems that whatever bargain you’ve struck with this god has been in your favor. But you know you’ve made a deal in a moment of fear, and you’re not entirely sure what you’ve agreed to.

Time.

Though you’re nervous, you can’t stay hidden in the bathroom forever. Nudging the door open, you peek around the edge, gaze sweeping the room as you look for Taehyung. He’s standing in the sitting area, face toward the flickering fire. He looks both terrifying and beautiful, hands linked behind his back as he watches the flames. 

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” Taehyung calls without turning around. “I mean it when I tell you that you’re safe.”

Slipping through the door, you walk toward him, regarding him warily. “Still,” you answer. “I don’t know where I am. Are you even human?”

He does look over his shoulder then, flashing you a wicked grin. “I’m not.” 

Taehyung’s answer doesn’t put you at ease, but you’re unsure what to do. Wordlessly, he gestures for you to follow him as he heads through the door and out of the room. For a moment, you hesitate. What would happen if you refused to leave the room? Is your deal with the god already in effect? What are its limitations? 

You can answer none of the questions you have, so you follow Taehyung, hoping to find answers soon. Except as soon as you step out of the room, you think you might have even more questions. 

The halls are dark and lit with flickering torches, casting an orange glow up to the cavernous ceilings. Though you’ve never been in a castle or seen one, you have an idea of how grand they are. There is no doubt in your mind that this is a castle, the halls resplendent and sweeping with artwork and fabric and statues. 

In front of you, Taehyung walks jovially with his hands linked behind his back. He hums a tune you don’t know, but it sounds smooth and warm. You follow behind him, casting your gaze around as you walk, trying to remember which turns you take and what paintings you pass. 

You reach a tall, closed set of wooden double doors. Taehyung raps his fingers against the door, looking over his shoulder at you with an excited grin. Your stomach flips and you wipe your palms against the bottom of your tunic. Your hands feel shaky and you twine them into the fabric, willing them to stop. 

Taehyung must hear someone on the other side of the door, because he opens it and steps in and to the side, gesturing for you to enter. You take a deep breath and walk by him into the room, stopping immediately as you look up, your mouth falling open. 

It’s a library grander than you could ever imagine. Your town had quite a small library at the church that belonged to the high priest, but this is something beyond your wildest dreams. The ceiling stretches higher than your imagination, filled with floating lights and stars - the entire night sky is stretched above you in swirling constellations of purple and blue. 

Three floors make up the library, each lined with books and windows that look out into the evening. You can see sprawling gardens beyond the tinted glass, but it’s the shelves of books that catch your attention. Stepping into the room further, you slowly spin, looking at the sheer amount of volumes that line the walls. There are multiple seating areas with rich, velvet blue armchairs and couches, tables full of books and papers and ink bottles and maps. 

Your throat tightens as you look at Taehyung, your mouth wobbling. The urge to burst into tears has never felt greater than this moment. You never imagined that you could stand in a room with so many books, and the desire to pull one off the shelf and delve in is cut short by the single, glaring fact that you don’t know how to read them. 

Distracted by the books upon entry, it takes you a moment to notice another presence in the room. You feel a tingle at the back of your neck, one that draws your eyes toward a long table near the fireplace. It’s the same feeling you had when you were saved from Nathaniel, an awareness that buzzes along your skin.

A man stands in front of the table, watching you with dark, feline eyes. He’s beautiful. Otherworldly, really. His round features remind you of the moon, but it’s the sharp eyes and the careful pout of his mouth that draws you in. He looks both delicate and dangerous, and you notice the quirk on his lips as he watches you watch him. 

He’s in all black. Black pants tucked into black, knee-high boots, and a black, long-sleeved shirt. There’s a layer of necklaces around his neck and you can see shapes and runes that are unfamiliar to you. The same runes and shapes are on the rings on his long, delicate fingers, folded in front of him. 

This is the face of a god. You know it in the way that there’s something ancient in his eyes and in the way he glows from within. His power is tangible, a crackling energy pressing up against every nerve in your body. 

“How are you feeling?” his voice vibrates right to your core. Soft and dark like you remember it, though a little rougher now. Gravelly. He studies you, unmoving. “Hopefully well-rested?”

“I feel…. Better.” Finding the words is hard in his presence, especially under the scrutiny of his gaze. You want to dart out of the room and hide, but you also don’t want to leave the library without exploring. “I think I should thank you?”

It comes out as a question and he smirks a little. Your stomach flutters at the sight; he raises a brow. “You’re welcome. Are you hungry? You’ve been asleep for nearly a day.”

The door shuts behind you and you startle, whirling around to see that Taehyung has left you. Your nerves fray further and you turn back to look at the god watching you. Behind him on the table, you realize it is a feast of sorts. Roasted meats and poultry, platters of fruit, plates of cheese and neatly arranged crackers, steaming pans of vegetables and things you cannot identify. 

He notices. “You must be starving. Come. Eat.” When you don’t move, he sighs. “I didn’t save you just to harm you.” 

It’s true enough. You carefully approach the table, eyeing him as he unclasps his hands and pulls out a chair for you. When you hesitate, he arches a dark brow again and you feel yourself grow warm in the face, muttering your thanks as you hurry over to the chair and sit down. 

The god’s presence is buzzing. He doesn’t touch you, but it’s like you feel him anyway, just an inch away from you. He helps you slide your chair in and gives a deep, contented sigh before he moves toward the opposite end of the table, taking the dull hum of energy with him. 

Across the table, he sits. His gaze finds yours again as you stare at him, finding it difficult to look anywhere else. Even with the smell of a divine meal, your attention on him is a fixed point. If this bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he leans back in his seat, casual and confident. 

“Have what you like,” he offers. “I don’t know what you enjoy and I didn’t want to pry.”

The table is full of options. You chew the inside of your cheek. There is glazed duck and roasted ham, creamy looking potatoes and sauced vegetables. Your stomach growls and twists painfully as you stare at your choices. 

“The duck is good,” he offers gently. You glance up. He nods towards the dish in question. “Sorry, it’s probably overwhelming.”

“A little,” you answer, but take him up on his advice and go for the duck. “Where are we?”

“In between.”

You frown as you plate different foods, fingers sticky as you do. You’re hyper-aware of him watching you and you try not to look up, feeling your hands quake as you add roasted veggies to your plate. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what you think it does. We’re at the in-between of all things. Not a solid place in your sense of understanding. It’s not a physical manifestation of a land mass, but it is a world that contains physical things.” 

“A… dimension?”

“Exactly. This is my domain.”

“And what… are you?”

You look up at him then. His lips twitch at the corners and he tongues the inside of his cheek. “A god. But you already knew that.”

“Wanted to hear you say it.” 

Silence falls between you as you pick up a knife and fork, cutting carefully into your meat. You pop it between your lips, sighing when the duck melts on your tongue with the taste of honey and something else. You sag in the chair, not realizing until now how tense you had been to this point. The food sends a wave of warmth through you and the god watches as you take a few bites, patient as you eat.

“This is fantastic,” you say, glancing at him as you reach for a glass of water. “The flavors are like nothing I’ve ever had.”

“I assure you that all things here are like nothing you’ve ever had.” You hum in agreement, taking another eager bite. You cannot imagine anything in the real world tasting this succulent. You almost wonder if perhaps this is all a dream. “You didn’t pray before you began to eat.”

Your chewing pauses. He’s bemused, giving you a sideways grin with his brows raised. You swallow thickly and say, “Praying never got me anywhere until recently. Why did you help me?”

“Because you asked.”

“You didn’t have to, though.”

It isn’t a question. He answers anyway. “I didn’t.”

“So why did you? The other gods have never helped me.”

“The other gods aren’t me.” His voice is soft and lethal, raising the hair on your arms. “We are not all the same, and you’d do well to not make any further comparisons moving forward.” 

You lower your gaze. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Gods are fickle beings. We are quick to offend and slow to let go. You don’t know any better and are thus forgiven.” 

“What do I call you?”

For a moment, he hesitates. You think he isn’t going to answer just as he says, “Yoongi. You can call me Yoongi.”

“Is that your name?” 

“It’s one of them.” 

“How many names do you have?”

He chuckles. It’s a delightful sound and you smile, watching him lean his head back against his chair, looking up as he shrugs. “How much time do you have?”

Time. 

Suddenly, you remember that you aren’t here on this god - Yoongi’s - good graces. You’re here because you called for someone in a moment of need and he agreed to help you, but at a cost. Your time. He had asked for your time, and a sense of anxiety tiptoes its way up your spine as you think about the ambiguity of his deal. 

Swallowing harshly, you shift back in your seat. The food in your stomach feels a little heavy, far too rich for you to eat more than a few bites. You’ve only ever known your parents’ staples of meat, bread, cheese, and root vegetables. 

“When you saved me,” you begin. “You made a deal with me.”

“I did.”

“My freedom in exchange for my time.”

His eyes are glittering as he watches you, completely still. The fireplace next to you crackles. It makes shadows dance across his face, giving him the appearance of something wild and untamed. Your heartbeat quickens as you watch him, this godly being, as he stares you down. 

“That was the deal,” he finally hums. His head cocks to the side a little. “I don’t usually discuss business over dinner.”

“I’m done eating.”

He huffs but doesn’t seem annoyed. “Perhaps tea, then? It will help settle your stomach.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know that my stomach needs settling?” 

“I know a lot of things.” Yoongi rises and gestures to the chairs directly in front of the fireplace. You stand, following his lead. There’s a quiver of energy in the air and you pause, turning to look back at the table to see it’s completely bare, no trace of anything left. You whip around to look at Yoongi as he sits in a wingback chair. “I can do a lot of things.”

A steaming cup of tea sits on a wooden table next to the chair you sink into. The cushions are soft, swallowing you in and making your muscles melt. The cup is warm when you pick it up, steam curling off the surface. Sniffing, your eyes flutter as you inhale the smell of mint. 

“What are you the god of?” You open your eyes and look at him. Both of his feet are planted flat on the floor, his arms resting on the arms of the chair. He looks a little stiff, more so than he did at dinner. Orange firelight reflects in his inky eyes. “You’re a god of the dark.” 

“There’s no such thing,” he scoffs, and you frown. “Your concept of gods is skewed. There is neither good nor evil, light nor dark. There are just gods.” 

“So it doesn’t matter who you pray to?”

“We don’t need your patronage. If we did, we wouldn’t be gods, would we?” You’d never thought of it that way. You sip your tea, letting the warmth and sharp mint bloom in your mouth. “We’re beyond the simple classification that mortals use to understand and organize what they think our intentions are. I have been classed as both good and evil, light and dark, benevolent and malevolent.”

“But surely there are things that are inherently evil, even among the gods.”

“Of course there isn’t. Evil is a point of view. It is a word used to define the feeling one has when the opposite of their desire occurs.” 

“I… guess that makes sense. But isn’t something like murder wrong?”

“Are you not the villain of the duck you ate today?” You blanch. Yoongi looks smug as he gestures vaguely with his hands. “Are you not evil for calling down the wrath of a god on Nathaniel Laudermill?”

“He was going to kill me.”

“You rejected his hand in marriage. You did the opposite of what he desired. I believe in his eyes, you are the evil. Is Death evil for doing what he was made to do?” 

Yoongi’s words make your head spin. You gulp a mouthful of scalding tea before setting it on the table next to you, your mind reeling. The realization that you’re sitting in a library with a starry ceiling arguing over morals and the concept of evil with a god who has saved you from certain death makes you giggle. 

He seems surprised by your sudden outburst, raising his brows as you cover your mouth, your fingers pressed to your lips as you try to contain your sudden mirth. “Sorry. This seems absolutely insane. I’m arguing over the word ‘evil’ with a god in a realm that is everywhere and nowhere at all. It feels like perhaps I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not. Though your dreams are dizzying and far more colorful than anyone else I know. You should be proud of them.” You furrow your brows. How does he know what you dream of? Before you can ask him to clarify, Yoongi says, “You wanted to discuss the deal.”

“Oh. Right. What did you mean by wanting my time in exchange for my freedom?”

“It’s simple. I want you to spend two weeks each month here.” 

Yoongi’s words sink in as you look at the window behind him. Outside, the world is sinking into what you think might be night. The sky is swimming with stars and constellations, stuck in a perpetual twilight of sorts. You’re reminded that somehow, Yoongi is like the moon and the night itself, especially when you find his dark gaze on you as he waits for your response. 

“Why?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I’m often very alone. It would be nice to have some company.” 

“That’s it? You just want me to hang out in exchange for saving me?” He nods. “That seems too easy.” 

His lips curve upward. “Maybe I’m very annoying.” 

For some reason you think it might not be true. You think of all the things that you’ve heard about the gods. Yoongi tells you that everything you know about them is wrong, but you know that the gods of the dark are tricksters. They are experts in the art of luring mortals in, and you wonder if that’s what he’s doing now. 

“Does it have to be consecutive weeks?” you ask, trying to bide time to collect your thoughts and work out his intentions. “Or can it be a collective?”

“Consecutive.” 

“What… what happens when I go home? With my family.”

Yoongi’s face grows stormy. You shift in your seat. “You’re under my protection,” he says after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll bear a mark that protects you. No one will force their will upon you again.”

“Can you?”

He shakes his head, long hair brushing the tops of his shoulders. He looks haunting in the firelight, but beautiful. You avert your gaze, fixating on the books in the room instead. “You have my word, I will never control you. I promised you freedom, that includes me.” 

“But I have to be here. I can’t escape from that. Is that freedom?”

“You made that decision of your own free will. It’s your words that bind you here, not mine. While you’re here, you are able to do whatever it is you desire. In fact, I encourage it.” 

“Wording is really important to you, isn’t it?”

He chuckles and inclines his head, fingers tapping the arm of his chair. “It is. Consider the first day of your deal already spent. You slept most of it off while you healed.” Yoongi stands, drawing your attention to him. “Sleep more,” he insists gently. “Tomorrow, I’ll give you a tour.”

The thought of a tour - and seeing Yoongi for more days - thrills you. Taehyung appears at the doorway as Yoongi escorts you out. He wishes you goodnight and lets Taehyung take you back to your room, though you feel his gaze and presence as you leave. 

It isn’t until you’re back in your room that you realize you never asked Yoongi how long your deal is supposed to last. It occurs to you that while he has given you a sort of freedom, perhaps he has taken something from you after all. 

-

Tall trees surround you. Above them, you can make out a swirling sky of stars and planets and several moons, so bright that it turns the forest a shade of blue. The woods around you are familiar, and there’s a well-walked path just ahead of you that leads to the river by your home. You’ve walked among these trees and creatures hundreds of times, but never with a sky like this.

Crickets chirp as you walk through the woods now. Grass tickles your bare feet, the earth soft and damp beneath you. It smells like fresh rain, but there’s no flood or mud as you navigate by instinct. 

It’s peaceful out here. How many times have you come here to escape your father’s rage? How many times have you sat, back pressed against a tree, watching the light fade from the world until it was too dark to see where you were going? You always managed to get home safely, even with the lack of light. 

The river rushes a few yards ahead. You pick a spot to sit and watch, beneath the cover of leaves. The sound of running water and the smell of rain on the wind lulls you into a trance and you close your eyes, resting for a while. 

Here is where you find peace. Where you dream. 

Awareness creeps up on you and you open your eyes, looking upward as you sense someone approaching. Yoongi stands next to you, onyx eyes gazing at the river. He’s in black clothes like before, his hands tucked into his pockets. You smell clove and cinnamon, making you dizzy. Power radiates off of him but it feels warm and safe. Like the night air itself comes from his existence. 

“Am I dreaming?” you ask him. He looks down at you, an obsidian strand of hair falling in his face. He nods, giving you a gentle smile. “This is often where I go to dream.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer you. He looks back to the rushing river, his face becoming unreadable. He looks like he’s somewhere far away, lost in his thoughts. Absently, he says, “Your dreams are my favorite.”

“What do you mean?”

“They are bright, full of life and color and sound. You dream the way people create art, the way people create worlds. It is rare to see such magnificence among the sleeping.” 

“I just…” you shrug. “Think of places I would rather be.” 

Yoongi looks at you then and his face is shadowed, full of thunder. “You’ll never be forced to live that life again.” 

“Do you promise?” 

He opens and closes his mouth, narrowing his eyes a little before shaking his head. You feel a smile tug at your mouth, endeared by his microexpressions. “Yes, little lamb. I promise.”

-

You wake with a start, sitting up in bed and looking around. The room spins as your brain tries to catch up with your body, your physical and mental awareness completely out of sync as you swivel your head, drinking in the unfamiliar room and the soft sheets that smell like clove and cinnamon. 

For a moment, you forget where you are, and adrenaline surges through you. Your fingers twist in the sheets as you ground yourself, memories from the day before slotting into place. Letting out a long exhale, you relax, flopping backward in the opulent bed, your heart rate slowing down as your panic bleeds out of you. 

You’re in Yoongi’s home. In a place that is somewhere in between - whatever that means. The god has told you on multiple occasions that you’re safe and have nothing to fear from him and for some reason…. You believe him. Maybe it’s naive, but you can’t erase the feeling that Yoongi is being honest with you, that he has good intentions. 

Perhaps it’ll get you into trouble one day. For now, you cast off doubt and peel yourself out of bed, trailing to the windowed doors that lead to the balcony beyond. You try the handle and are delighted to find them unlocked. Slipping through the doors, you’re met with warm, balmy air. It smells like petrichor, the breeze kissing your skin gently.

Like before, the world seems wrapped in permanent twilight. There is no sun in the sky, but a vast stretch of swimming stars and the largest moon you’ve ever seen. In the distance, dark mountains loom over you, their peaks capped in snow and wreathed in mist. 

Forest stretches out toward them in a vibrant shade of green. There’s a settee on the balcony along with a table and chairs. Leaning on the stone railing, you look down to see colorful gardens and a large pond full of vibrant fish.

All of the radiance makes you smile. You’ve never seen colors so rich, and you’re unable to recall if your world was this vibrant. The garden below is bursting with violet and cerulean, the flowers unfamiliar to you. Their fragrant smell wafts up to the balcony, a hint of sweetness in the air. 

A roll of thunder catches your attention. You look to the east, noticing that one of the mountains in the distance is darker than the others. Lightning crackles in the sky around it and the mist is heavier there. You think the trees are darker too, though you can’t tell if they’re gray or if it’s the shade from the swollen thunderheads drifting over them. 

Behind you, the door to the balcony opens and startles you. Whirling around, you find Taehyung leaning against the frame, mouth curved upwards in a sideways grin. “When you didn’t answer the door I got worried.”

“I thought I was safe here? What is there to be worried about?”

He shrugs. “Maybe you took a dive off of the balcony.”

“What is that place?” you point to the thundering, shrouded mountain. Taehyung looks where you point, his smile dropping as he stares at the looming peak. “By the look on your face, somewhere bad.”

“Bad is a relative term.” 

You scrunch your nose. “You sound like Yoongi.”

“Already familiar, are we? Cute.” He pushes off the door frame and beckons you inside. “Ask Yoongi about it on your tour.”

“Are you not coming along?”

“I have things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Not give tours.”

If it weren’t for Taehyung’s playful tone and glint in his eye when he casts you a glance, you’d think you were bothering him. Instead of getting angry, he drapes himself on one of the couches by the fireplace, long legs dangling off the arm as he lounges.

Today, he’s in charcoal colored pants and a red, billowing shirt that shows off the smooth, tan skin of his chest. A dangling earring catches your attention as he leans his head back, silky hair shifting. If Yoongi is made of moonlight, you think that Taehyung might be made of sunlight: golden skin, warm energy. 

“By all means,” you mutter. “Hang out.” 

“This is my home first, human. I shall do as I please.”

You make a sound at the back of your throat and roll your eyes, walking toward a large, polished wardrobe made from dark wood. It smells like fresh cedar when you pull on the brass handle, opening the door to reveal tunics and dresses, all hung neatly. 

Rich silks, velvets and cottons greet you. You run your hand over the materials, amazed at how soft they feel. They are far better quality than your mother ever had access to. Your heart squeezes when you think of her, and you shake your head a little as if to physically dispel thoughts of your family out of your mind.

Facing them seems like an impossible task. You know that you’ll have to eventually. Two weeks with Yoongi in this strange world seems like a long time, but you’re not sure if it’s nearly long enough to mentally prepare to go back and face them after what’s happened. Will they still be angry? What will they say? Will they have been worried about you all this time?

There’s no way to know the answer. So instead, you pretend none of that exists. For once, you have stumbled into a dream and adventure like you’ve always wanted, and you intend on playing the part. 

An emerald shirt catches your eye. It’s made of a silky material, supple when you rub the sleeve between your fingers. It’s plain, save for the laced string at the throat to cinch and tie it off. You grab a pair of black, cotton pants as well, the fabric just as soft as the sheets in your bed. 

With Taehyung humming on the couch, you let yourself into the bathroom to change. You appreciate that the floor is warm wherever you go barefoot, and you quickly slide out of your clothes from the previous day and into the new ones. The measurements are a little off, but more than manageable as you pull the tie closed at your throat. Glancing into the mirror, you can’t help but smile a little.

You look so different. The shirt belongs to someone adventurous, you think. Perhaps a pirate or a huntress riding atop her horse through the woods. You slide your fingers along the material, its softness inviting and magical. 

Two weeks. You’ll be here for two weeks with Yoongi, a god who has been alive for hundreds of years, if your conversation from the night before was anything to go off of. It feels surreal and you’re a little nervous, but more than that, you’re excited.

Suddenly, the world is full of possibilities. No marriage to tie you down, no power held in your parents’ hands. 

 “Gods you’re slow to get dressed,” Taehyung announces when you enter the room. He sits up, appraising your outfit. “Green looks good on you.”

“How many are there?” he cocks his head at your question, peeling himself from the seat. “Gods and goddesses, I mean.”

“Pfft. Hundreds.”

“Hundreds?” 

“Maybe thousands, I don’t really know. There’s basically an infinite amount of universes. All anyone mostly cares about are the Eternals, the gods who remain the same no matter what name or history mortals assign to them.”

“Eternals?”

“Mhmm.” Taehyung leads you into the hallway. His hands are tucked into his pockets as he strolls leisurely. You follow beside him eagerly, looking up as he seems thoughtful. “Gods are hard to define. They are great beings with massive power. Some gods do the same thing, some don’t. They come from the infinite amount of worlds to which they are native, and somehow make it into mortal history. But the Eternals have always been here, always known. They do not change.”

“Who are the Eternals?”

“Life, death, chaos, time, pathos, dream and fate.” He makes a face then. “Fate and chaos are hard. They work in direct opposition to one another. It drives time insane, naturally.”

Seven Eternals. It makes sense, from a logical standpoint. Every world must have life and death and the passing of time. Where there exists a living thing, there exists a vessel of emotion and dreams. In all worlds there is the potential for chaos disrupting fate. 

“Yoongi is an Eternal?”

Taehyung glances sidelong at you, smug. “Yes, Yoongi is an Eternal.”

“Why do you look at me like that when I say his name?” Taehyung doesn’t answer, instead smirking as if he’s enjoying a private joke. Your fists close and open as you swallow down a demand to tell you what he finds so amusing. “Which one is he?”

“Have you no guesses?”

That makes you think. Recalling the night before, you remember the way Yoongi looks: dark eyes swimming with something magical, a soft and raspy voice, the way he appeared in your dreams. 

Though your dreams are mesmerizing and far more colorful than anyone else I know. You recall what he said about your dreams, the way he leveled his gaze at you, full of meaning that you didn’t understand. 

“Dreams,” you say, certain that you're right. “He’s the Eternal of Dreams?”

“He isn’t of dreams. He is Dream.”

You’re unable to clarify Taehyung’s emphasis on Yoongi being a deity of dreams as he opens the door to the same library as before. This time, he doesn’t knock. When you step inside, you realize it’s because the room is empty. Yoongi is nowhere to be seen, though pale light filters in through the windows. It’s still forever twilight outside, yet a little lighter. It feels like morning, even if it does not entirely appear to be morning. 

Behind you, the door shuts. You turn to see Taehyung has left without another word, leaving you entirely alone in the captivating space. 

Without hesitation, you walk to the nearest shelf housing rows and rows of books. The spines range from muted browns and neutrals to bright reds and rich blues. Velvet books, leather books, canvas, silk. There is no shortage of materials making up each one, letters painted, printed or stitched down the back of them to denote what they are. 

Each one breathes a world of possibility as you drag your finger along the shape of them. You wonder how many worlds and histories are scribbled away in the pages of this room, the very idea of it overwhelming. 

Trinkets and objects you’re unfamiliar with line the shelves as well. Your fingers trace their shape and you wonder what they are. One object in particular catches your eye in the corner of the room. It stands on three metal legs and has large, interlocking rings that spin lazily in some unknown pattern. The rings are hammered metal and appear to have markings engraved on them.

The device slowly spins of its own accord. Upon inspection, there seems to be nothing else responsible for its motion except magic or science that is beyond you. You can see that there are seven metal rings and different markings on each of them, but you cannot guess what the engravings read. 

“It represents the balance of the Eternals. Taehyung mentioned you had a vague starting point as to what I am.”

Yoongi’s deep voice makes you leap and screech, spinning on your heels to face him. Your hand flies to your chest and you can feel your heartbeat rattling wildly. Yoongi stands a few feet away from you, hands linked behind his back and eyebrows raised at your reaction. 

He’s dressed similar to the night before, though a little more casual. His black pants are tucked into knee high boots, and his black shirt is loose fitted with silver stitching around the collar. You notice that it’s in patterns of stars and moons, furthering your confirmation that Yoongi is associated with dreams in some manner. 

Yoongi’s long hair is pulled half out of his face today, tied away in a bun. The rest of his hair brushes the tops of his shoulders as his inky eyes regard you patiently. His curiosity makes you feel warm all over and you drop your hands to your sides, fingers twitching. 

“How so?” you ask. You turn back to the device. “What does it run on?”

“Our energy. Each ring represents a member of my family. The speed at which they turn represents the balance among us. When the speed is off, the balance is off.”

“What causes the balance to be off?” 

Yoongi steps closer to you. You hold your breath as he does it, but you can feel his presence like a buzzing vibration at the back of your neck.

His voice is softer when he answers, “A number of things. Sometimes some of us aren’t always performing the way we should be. Other times, we’re overperforming. Or fighting, really, as siblings are wont to do.”

“I don’t know what that’s like.”

“You’re not missing much. Especially when your siblings are as ancient and never ending as you are.” 

“How… old are you?”

You look at Yoongi to see he’s standing next to you now. He looks at you, face impassive as he lifts a shoulder. “How old is the earth? How old is existence? It’s hard to say.” 

“Where do you come from?”

“Chaos was first. Life and Death were next, twins born of the sudden whims of Chaos. I was next, for Life often dreamed. Time was always there, though no one knows if Time or Chaos came first. Pathos and Fate came later.”

You nod, though you don’t fully understand the scope of how old and fathomless the existence of things like chaos and time and dreams are. It makes your head spin, trying to conceptualize the thing next to you who looks very much like an ordinary man being something so ancient and primordial that he precedes human existence entirely. 

“You’re overwhelmed,” he notes, a bit of amusement in his voice. “I don’t blame you. The best way to understand it is that I am a living concept that can never be destroyed, so long as there exists something to dream about.” 

Crossing his arms in front of him, Yoongi clasps his hands and gives you a slight smile. He has a pretty smile, you realize. Delicate and almost shy. It makes your heart flutter and you mentally chastise yourself for thinking that a being of eternal dreams can possibly be shy. 

“How about a tour? Our deal is that you’ll spend two weeks a month here. I’d love for you to feel like this is a place you can be familiar with, if not something akin to a home.”

“Home?”

His smile grows. “If that word ever seems fitting, sure.”

Home. The word makes you think about what home means to you and suddenly you feel a pit form in the bottom of your stomach. Flashes of a flooded forest, lighting lancing across the sky, hands gripping you tight and shoving you under the water. 

“Um,” you clear your throat. “So a tour.”

Yoongi’s eyes glitter as he grins and turns, using a hand to gesture to the wide library. “This is the main library, but we’ll end our tour here. Let’s go through the gardens first, it’s nice weather.”

Yoongi starts without you, leaving you to stand staring after him as he goes. His gait is smooth and confident. He presses on a pane of glass that you realize is a door. A breeze teases the loose pieces of his hair, carrying the familiar scent of clove and cinnamon toward you. 

For a moment, you stare after him. Yoongi being a deity of dreams makes so much sense in this moment, stepping into the twilight, face tilted upward slightly as though he’s soaking up the sun. He looks radiant. Tranquil. When he turns to look at you expectantly, his rose pink mouth quirks sideways. 

“Right,” you say, hurrying to follow him. “Outside is where we start.” 

When you pass him, you get the sense that Yoongi wants to tease you further. Instead, he says nothing and leads you into the gardens. A cobblestone path leads from the door through wisteria trees, their amethyst leaves swooping down and filling the air with sweet fragrance. 

Up above, the sky is a mix of blue and purple, thousands of stars twinkling. There is a stone bench near one of the windows of the library, but Yoongi leads you away from the palace and down the path under the trees. The air is crisp and pleasant, cooling your anxious, sweat-slick skin. 

Yoongi links his hands behind his back. “This is the library garden,” he informs you, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “It’s mostly wisteria trees, which are my favorite to walk through when I need to think.”

“They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“Much different from the woods outside of your home.”

“You know the woods outside of my home?”

“You called me there, remember?” You blanch at the memory, but if he notices, Yoongi says nothing. “Besides, I’m familiar with the woods that surround your home. Your village pays homage to my brother.”

“Your brother?”

He hums. “Life. Perhaps they don’t know that it’s him they pray to, but they do.”

Taking a left, Yoongi leads you on a looping path through the massive wisteria trees. They’re larger than anything you’ve ever seen, their bows sweeping monoliths of purple, trunks thick as boulders. A strange creature sits on the branches of one of the trees, making you stop and stare. 

A tiny, carnelian creature sits on a bough, bright against the lavender background of the leaves. It has four legs and scaled feet, sharp talons cutting into the bark as it keeps its balance in the tree. Small wings are folded on its back, bony limbs with paper-thin skin between them, a lighter red than the rest of its body. A long tail snakes around the branch, holding the creature in place as its long neck extends, head tilting to look at you curiously.

“Is that a dragon?” you whisper, staring at it.

You’ve only heard them described in stories, but you don’t really know what they look like. It has scales like a lizard and it blinks two large eyes at you, entirely black. There are small horns on its head, and a forked tongue snakes out as it tastes the air. 

“She’s a fey dragon,” Yoongi hums, looking up at the creature with a smile. “And she’s not supposed to be in the trees here, are you?”

A puff of smoke curls from the dragon’s nose as it huffs, making you take a step backward. Yoongi lets out a deep laugh that makes a tingle rattle down your spine and your toes curl. The sound is like smoke and velvet, heady in the air. 

“She won’t hurt you,” Yoongi assures, shaking his head to continue walking under the dragon’s branch. “She’s a pesky little thing, but she is incredibly sweet. Fey dragons are much smaller than their firedrake cousins and less dangerous than their basilisk relatives.”

With your eyes cast upward, you hurry after Yoongi, keeping your gaze on the large lizard as you run under the branch. Her dark eyes follow you, unblinking and fathomless. The hair on your arms stands up and you can’t help but feel that despite the dragon being small and what Yoongi calls harmless, it is incredibly intelligent. 

“There are dragons here?” 

“There is everything here.”

You frown, finally turning away from the dragon as you leave it behind. “That’s confusing. Everything as in…?”

“When you dream, you have limitless potential. You can go anywhere, be anything, see any creature. Dreams even invent things that do not exist in the natural world. Creatures, stories, songs, words, plants. The possibility for creation in a dream is limitless, and this place is the essence of dreams. It is me.”

“So you are this place and the place is you?”

He seems thoughtful before nodding. “More or less. This is a dream realm as much as it is a collection of ideas, thoughts and hopes. Everything that every living creature has ever dreamed about walks these lands.”

“Even nightmares?”

Yoongi pulls up short and whips his head at you. You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to meet his eyes under his severe expression. In the distance, you swear you hear thunder. An apology springs to your lips, but before you can give it, Yoongi nods sharply once and begins walking again.

“Nightmares too. Do not speak of nightmares here, lest they come searching.”

You think about Taehyung telling you that you were safe but being concerned when you didn’t answer the door earlier that morning. A chill seeps into your bones as you rejoin Yoongi on your walk, his pace not as relaxed now. 

“They come searching?” you try, a little curious, a little afraid. 

“Yes. They are different from dreams. Unpredictable in a way I admire and dislike.” He glances sidelong at you. “They have a mind of their own. You are safe with me always, but it’s best practice to not think of them while you’re here. This world has a way of manifesting.”

For a few moments, you walk in silence. You let your questions fall silent as you look around. The two of you exit the wisteria trees to see a large pond. A single, massive wisteria sits on its western edge with a bench underneath it. 

The surface of the pond is dark and smooth, reflecting the swirling stars in the sky. Yoongi leads you around the mirror surface and points out the mountains in the distance that you could see from your windows. 

“Mountains of Sleep,” he tells you. “It is where all beings who are ready for their eternal rest come to dream for the remainder of their existence. They are also called the Mountains of Divinity, for there are hundreds of divine immortals among their peaks.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Not all beings rest here. Some prefer their own planes and resting grounds. But this existed before those places, and has long been used for the tired and the weary who are ready to retire.”

“Are they dead?”

“No. The dead cannot come here.” He hesitates. “When they do, it is because they are not a dream.”

You get the sense that Yoongi is talking about nightmares again and you shiver as he takes you around the pond. “Don’t let anything in that body of water convince you to go swimming. They won’t intentionally hurt you but they don’t understand the concept of human life.”

“They?”

“They don’t have a name. They are water-folk who were dreamt up by someone once. I admire them and they’re beautiful and wicked smart, but they’re a bit cheeky.”

“I’m starting not to feel as safe as you said I was.”

Yoongi stops and frowns. He lifts a hand as though he’s about to touch your arm before he thinks better of it and drops it at his side. You realize you’re disappointed that he did before mentally kicking yourself, feeling a little ashamed to be so affected by a god. You’re sure Yoongi gets it often, but it makes you feel silly nonetheless. 

“You are safe.” He lowers his head a little, catching your gaze. Though his eyes are midnight black, you swear you see the stars above reflected in their dark pools. “But there are rules everywhere. This place has them just the same as your home did. You were relatively safe there, but there were rules.”

“And then I broke them and Nathaniel tried to murder me.”

“Nathaniel was dealt with and will never touch you again.” Thunder rolls in the distance and your heart flutters at the vehemence with which Yoongi says this. “The misdeeds of your family cannot chase you here.”

You don’t press Yoongi on the matter. Instead, you let him proceed with the tour, keeping your questions to a minimum as you wonder what Yoongi meant by Nathaniel being dealt with. You recall the soft, susurrated voice against your ear when Yoongi found you. The gentle brush of something like a kiss to your neck. The rage and power as he stepped in front of you to face Nathaniel when the deal was done.

It does not require much to make an assumption about Yoongi’s meaning. 

The yards of his palace are sprawling and full of color. Gardens with flowers he doesn’t know the name of but said a little girl had dreamed them and he liked them so he made more. Butterflies with colors you didn’t know existed flitting from plant to plant. Fruit orchards with the ripest, reddest apples you’ve ever seen. 

And the palace. It is the only word you have for it. The building is several stories tall, hewn from dark stone with at least five different towers. Starlight glitters in the windows as Yoongi guides you up the stairs toward the massive double doors that lead to the main entrance of the castle. On the door handle are two wrought-iron griffons with proud faces. 

Without a touch, the doors open on Yoongi’s arrival. You wonder if the building responds to his presence as the door swings open for the two of you. Inside, the foyer is as magnificent as the library, a lush purple carpet rolling over stone floors. 

In the center of the room is a massive spiral staircase. Looking up, you see that it goes all the way up the floors of the palace, dizzying circles of floor after floor. Yoongi explains there are other ways to go all the way up to the top throughout the castle but this is the easiest way, though he assures you that by the third floor you’d be out of breath. 

Each room Yoongi shows you is opulent and warm. Rich, deep wooden furniture, paintings with dark splashes of amethyst, scarlet and gold. Rooms for tea, rooms for painting, rooms for music, rooms for dancing. Yoongi has a room for everything, sometimes occupied by strange little creatures that hide when you walk in or curious things that lift their heads when they see him. 

No one else besides Taehyung seems to be there, though. You come across felines, little balls of light that bounce around Yoongi excitedly and light him up like a burst of flame, a little furry thing that you think is a fox but in a shade of shocking sapphire, and a massive wolf with eyes like ice that blink apathetically at you as you walk by. But never once do you see another person. Even Taehyung seems to be amiss. 

“Does no one else live here?” Yoongi takes you through another room empty of people and things. “It’s so empty.” 

He takes his time to answer as you leave the room and move into the hallway. It’s hard to tell which way you’re going, but you think that you’re headed toward the library again. Your legs ache from going up and down the stairs on an endless tour of rooms, and you’re eager to be in the library once more. 

“There used to be,” Yoongi says slowly. “But people don’t tend to do well in places that they don’t belong.”

“So you’re all alone here?”

His smile is sad. “I have Taehyung.” He pauses before he adds, “And now you.”

I’m often very alone. It would be nice to have some company. You think of Yoongi’s words from the night before and suddenly you’re filled with sadness. Sadness for this ancient being, who seems so gentle and quiet. Who lives alone in this giant castle with all of the world’s dreams around him and no one to share them with. 

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “How do you know I belong?”

“Pardon?”

“Do I? Belong, I mean. You wouldn’t… have me here if I wouldn’t do well, right?”

“No one dreams the way you do.” He says this firmly. Confident. Fierce. “I believe there is nothing you wouldn’t be able to find here.”

“Do you always know what I dream about?” 

“No. But you dream… loudly. Colorfully. Sometimes it’s hard to ignore. I don’t like to pry, though.” 

“Can you see everyone’s dreams?”

“Mhmm. I even make some.”

This catches your attention and you reach out and grab his wrist, stopping him. He glances down where your fingers touch his skin, your fingers buzzing where you’re connected. You flush with warmth and drop your hand, clearing your throat at how forward grabbing him was. 

Yoongi is smirking when you ask, “Can you show me?”

“One day, yes. For now, the end of the tour and lunch.”

At the mention of lunch, your stomach rumbles. His grin spreads into a full smile and Yoongi leads you back to the library. Again, the doors open without his touch and as you pass them, you study them for any sign of an auto-opening mechanism but find none. 

Yoongi’s magic appears limitless. You remember the food disappearing from dinner, the swell of power as Yoongi agreed to save you, and his sudden appearance as you were drowning. You know nothing about the god of dreams or what he’s capable of, but you’re awed at how easy it comes to him. 

“This is the main library.” Yoongi turns around to face you, sweeping his arms out on either side of him. “There are two others: one in my room and one located in the dream tower.”

“You didn’t show me the dream tower.”

“I’ll show you when you’re ready.” 

Unsure what ready means to Yoongi, you look around the library. Same as the night before, the shelves are crammed full of books and scrolls, so much paper and ink that it makes you lightheaded with excitement. It still smells of lemon and wax, though as you pass Yoongi to go to a shelf, you’re overcome with clove and cinnamon again. 

Trying to ignore the shiver that merely walking by Yoongi gives you, you brush the spines of books once again, feeling their potential under your fingertips. 

“You always have access to this library. You can read what you like.”

A pang goes through you and you drop your hand. Without looking at him, you mumble, “Thank you, but I can’t read.”

No response comes. You stare unseeing at the books before taking a breath to turn your head and steal a glance at Yoongi. You expect some sort of amusement or perhaps pity, but his face is unreadable, jaw working.

“That’s okay,” he finally says. “We will teach you. After lunch we will make a schedule to help fill your time here. Reading and writing lessons will be a part of that.”

Your heartbeat quickens. “Do you mean that?”

“Do you want to learn?” You nod your head eagerly. He grins gently. “Then we will teach you.” 

-

Yoongi’s eyes are dark as he presses forward. Your breath catches in your chest as you lay back, looking up at him with your lips parted, heart hammering in your chest. He settles his waist against you, the weight of him pressing you into your bed as you lay back. 

He is so beautiful that it puts you in a daze, staring up into his face as he leans over you. His hair is pulled back, but a few dark strands hang loose. His mouth is stained red with wine, making you want to lean forward and taste his lips and feel their softness. 

Tentatively, you reach a hand up and brush the loose strands of hair out of his face, tucking them behind his ear. You don’t stop touching him, though, hand cradling his flushed face. His eyes flutter shut and he leans into your palm as you cup his cheek, thumb sweeping back and forth. 

“Is this what you dream of?” he whispers, eyes remaining closed. “Being under me, like this?”

Dreaming. You realize you’re dreaming. You jolt and suddenly, you’re alone. 

-

“Your handwriting is terrible,” Taehyung admits, looming over your shoulder. You grip the quill tighter, nearly snapping it in two. “But you learn unbelievably fast. How many of these letters do you think you have consistently memorized?” 

Taehyung is in charge of your writing lessons today and you already want to kill him. It’s been five days of your new residency in the House of Dreams, as Yoongi calls it, and you’ve quickly learned that Taehyung is equally charming and playful as he is outright vexing. 

Instead of turning to give him a very harsh poke in the arm with your quill, you scan the shapes in front of you. There are twenty-six of them, all awkwardly slanted and misshapen where you’ve used too much ink or not enough. Using a quill and ink feels alien to your hand and your fingers struggle to remember the proper way to hold it as you draw your letters. 

“I think most of them,” you answer slowly, mentally sounding out each word on the page in your head as you go. “But there are a few of them that confuse me. The lowercase ‘d’ and ‘b’ I find nearly impossible to recall and ‘v’ and ‘u’ are rather frustrating.” 

“Whenever you see a ‘u’, think of it as having a scoop. Sc-uuup.” Taehyung points to a ‘u�� on the page and mimics the scooping motion. “Might be easier to associate the sound scoop with ‘u’ even though the word itself doesn’t have a ‘u’.” 

The desperate look you give him makes him laugh as you struggle to imagine why a word with a ‘u’ sound doesn’t actually contain the letters. You’re saved from Taehyung’s maddening - but helpful - instruction as Yoongi walks into the library. 

“You’d better not be laughing at her again.” 

Taehyung steps away from you and bows his head toward Yoongi. “I’m laughing with her. We’re just sharing amusement over the hypocrisy of letters.”  

“Yeah,” you deadpan. “It’s hilarious.”

Today, Yoongi is in a deep, amethyst colored shirt. It’s laced at the throat with the familiar moon and stars that he has stitched on much of his clothing, and his hair down and long, slicked back and tucked behind his ears. As always, he’s in dark pants and boots today, the sound of them clicking on the stone floor as he nudges Taehyung out of the way to peer over your shoulder. 

You tense. Being around Yoongi for the last five days has been intoxicating. It is bad enough that you get distracted during your lessons by the way his voice rumbles when he speaks and the way he chews his lips when working on his own things while you study. It’s worse that now he invades your dreams, whispering in your ear and hands wandering over your curves, sinful mouth brushing over your skin and leaving you to jolt awake in bed covered in sweat.

The very idea that Yoongi knows what you're dreaming of drives you to the edge of insanity. He’d promised he preferred to avoid your dreams, but you wonder if he knows. Knows that you have developed an insatiable habit of fantasizing about his hands, or about the tone of his voice. 

Gripping your quill tight, you hold your breath when he leans over you. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you feel the heat of him and smell him, cinnamon and clove making your eyes flutter. If you didn’t know he was the god of dreams, you’d mistake him for the god of lust, if that was a thing.

“Why aren’t you breathing?” You peer upward to see Yoongi looking down at you. If you tilted your head back just a fraction more, you’d be pressed against his chest. Even from upside down, his moon-pale face and cosmos eyes make you want to scream. “Are you alright?”

“Nervous that I’m not performing well.”

His face softens. “You’re a quick learner. Don’t worry about progress and pace.”

“But what if I lose it when I go h- back.” 

Home. That’s what you were going to say. But the idea of home is terrifying. You don’t know what waits for you when you go back. You don’t know what splitting time between two worlds means. You don’t know what you’ll do when you have to spend two weeks there before coming back to Yoongi. 

Five days in Yoongi’s realm has been enough to make you feel like this has always been your life. You fit into the daily routines of Yoongi and Taehyung better than you imagined, and though you still sometimes get lost in the House of Dreams, you discover that you’re adapting. 

There’s always something new to discover, an adventure around the corner. You like learning your letters and the sounds that they make. You love studying the maps in the library and tracing the distances between countries you can’t name and have no idea where they are. 

Most of all, you love exploring. Rooms upon rooms of objects both normal and magical. Creatures that roam freely around the palace - including a clever little fox that has taken interest in following you around as you take breaks from studying by walking around the grounds. 

While Yoongi’s home doesn’t feel like it belongs to you, you’re more afraid to go back to your mother and father than you are to go near the pond at the edge of the wisteria garden. 

So you avoid thinking of going back.

“You’ll practice while you’re there,” Yoongi says, as though it’s the easiest answer in the world. “You have to practice every day.”

“My father won’t- he doesn’t…” You shake your head, unable to get the words out. That your father would strike you to the ground if he found you with books again. “I can’t bring anything back with me.”

“Sure you can.” You glance at him to find his expression is firm. “I told you, you’re under my protection. Things will be very different for you when you go back.”

“How?”

“It’s… difficult to say.” 

Yoongi offers nothing else. You become hyper aware of how close he’s standing to you again and you look down at your letter practicing. With a shaky hand, you dip the quill into the ink, lifting it from the inkwell and letting the excess drip before bringing it over to the paper. 

When Yoongi makes no move to leave, you inhale deeply to steel your nerves and continue tracing. He’s content to watch you as you work. If he knows how distracted this makes you, he doesn’t let on. Perhaps he has no idea that as you scrawl a shaky letter ‘k’, it’s Yoongi who consumes your thoughts. 

Even in your waking hours it seems you’re not rid of him. 

Most of your study sessions are like this, Yoongi watching you so closely that it makes your quill bleed too much ink. He is a passive teacher, letting you come to him with questions instead of correcting you constantly like Taehyung does. Even now, when you hesitate on the next letter of the alphabet, Yoongi doesn’t offer his help. Lets you figure it out. 

You dip the quill in ink and continue. 

After you finish the last shaky letter, you set the quill down, flexing your fingers open and closed. Yoongi makes a satisfied noise and steps away. You turn to see him walking toward the table by the fireplace, which is where you have started to take all your meals. Already, there are platters of food and drinks. Taehyung sits in a chair, plucking a grape from a plate and popping it in his mouth.

“I didn’t invite you,” Yoongi grumbles as he takes a seat at the head of the table. You push yourself up from your chair, legs aching from sitting so long. “Who said you can eat my grapes?”

“Ugh, I’m tired of eating alone.” 

“Let him stay, Yoongi.” The god looks at you with a glower, bottom lip jutted out slightly. It’s so cute that you can’t help but burst into laughter, hand flying to your mouth. “Sorry, I think you just pouted.” 

“He did.” Taehyung grins and leans back in his chair. “He wants you to himself.”

Yoongi hisses Taehyung’s name, shutting down the teasing immediately. You glance at Yoongi shyly as you sit down but he doesn’t meet your eyes, choosing to laden his plate with food instead. You can’t imagine why Yoongi would want you to himself, especially when all you do is ply him with questions. 

Still, a little bit of a thrill goes through you as you start loading your plate, your gaze drifting toward the deity again as he bites into a strawberry, the juice running down his chin. Your eyes track the movement as his tongue darts out, catching the drip before it escapes too far. 

Yoongi’s mouth is hypnotizing and it takes you a moment too long to realize he’s watching you stare at him. Quickly, you grab a cup and bring water to your lips, gulping the cool water and glancing up at the ceiling, feeling embarrassment bloom like warm liquid through you. 

When you put the cup down, you swear you see Yoongi smiling. 

-

Hungry lips suck at the tender flesh of your neck. You gasp, feeling your toes curl in pleasure, head spinning. Yoongi’s teeth scrape against the sensitive skin, the drag of his rough tongue soothing over the bites driving you mad. You let out a soft moan, eyes squeezing shut as you writhe under him. 

Yoongi’s large hands pin yours above your head, your fingers tangling in the sheets as he continues to ravish your neck with his hot mouth, tongue and teeth. His hips roll over you and you whine, feeling his hard-on pressing against you. 

Your parents would kill you if they knew you were here like this, trapped under a god of the dark as he sucks on your pulse point, mouth moving upward to nip your ear. Your chest is heaving and you can’t get enough breath, overwhelmed by the scent of cinnamon and clove, by the way his mouth pulls sounds from you so easily. 

Yoongi tears his lips away and looks down at you, eyes so dark and blown out that you think he might devour you, swallow you whole in one bite - 

“You’re dreaming of me again,” he whispers. “I don’t know if you mean to be dreaming of me, like this.” 

You startle, realizing this isn’t real, and the illusion fades. 

-

Twilight skies stretch above you. It’s warm outside, but the night air is cool against your skin, making you shiver as you sit down, folding your legs criss-cross. 

“Are you cold?” Yoongi asks, sitting down on the soft grass next to you. You shake your head, eyes fixed on the low table in front of you that's filled with platters of meats, cheeses and crackers. You eye a glass bottle of red liquid that you think is wine, mouth watering. “Are you sure?”

“Promise, the wind feels nice.” 

He looks doubtful as he sits down next to you, a healthy amount of space between you. 

Tonight, Yoongi has insisted on a late night snack outside under the stars. He seems eager, verging on giddy as he glances up at the sky before reaching for the bottle of red liquid and popping the cork. 

After nearly two weeks in the House of Dreams, you’ve learned that this world is forever twilight, lit up by dreams. Here, day and night don’t exist in their truest forms. There are always millions of people and creatures dreaming at every moment of existence, not limiting Yoongi’s world and power to times of day and night. 

The twilight is beautiful. You’ve grown accustomed to the purple tint to the world, the way that it gets just the barest bit darker outside during certain periods, as though even in a world where night and day don’t exist, there are still two separate halves of time. 

Yoongi passes you a glass. You bring it to your nose and sniff, delighted at the scent of cherries and something else. It’s certainly wine, though you wait for him to pour himself a glass to sip any. 

Earrings dangle in Yoongi’s ears tonight. Each lobe has a small, thin chain with a moon charm on the end that’s studded with sapphires, catching the moonlight as he sets down the bottle and sits back. His hair is pulled half-up, half-down again, leaving his full face in view as he looks at you and gives you a gummy grin that scatters your thoughts. 

“Chaos is moving through the sky tonight,” Yoongi informs you, glancing upward. “When she does, she’s beautiful to see. She doesn’t do it that often, but she’s passing us by on her way to do whatever it is she does somewhere. I wanted you to see.” 

He holds out his drink and you grip yours tight, raising your glass to clink with his like you’ve seen people do at the inn in your village. He turns away from you, bringing his wine to his lips to sip. You follow suit, tentatively tilting your glass.

Sweet cherries bloom on your tongue and you hum in delight. It isn’t just cherries you taste, though. There’s a lush sweetness too, edged with spice, filling your mouth with warmth. You look at Yoongi as you sip and see him watching with a closed-lipped smile, eyes searching your face.

“You like it?” 

You nod and set the glass down. “It’s delicious.” 

“You like sweet things.” 

“And you like salty.” He raises a brow in question. “You’re always going for the salted meats at dinner. And you have salted pork right there,” you point to the meat and cheeseboards. “Do gods get dehydrated?”

“We do not. I didn’t realize you were paying so much attention.” You shrug, picking up your wine to take small sips again. “Anything else you’ve noticed?” 

Everything, you want to say and don’t. You’ve noticed so many things about Yoongi, all of them coming to mind at once. But you don’t want to reveal just how much you’ve watched him over the last two weeks, paying far more attention than is proper. 

You could tell Yoongi how you’ve noticed that he wears seven necklaces exactly, each with a different symbol charm on them that you think corresponds to the seven Eternals. You could tell him that he has the habit of closing his eyes and tilting his face upward, like he’s absorbing moonlight. You know all of his favorite breakfast items, specifically crispy bacon and sugared strawberries. 

And there are other things you could tell him, like in your dreams his lips are soft as sin, his voice low and sultry. You could admit that most nights you feel his grip on your waist and that when you study his hands during your lessons, you can’t help but already know the shape of them. 

Perhaps two weeks back in your village is exactly what you need to get the ridiculous fantasy of this eternal being from your head. You don’t think you could bear the shame of him knowing exactly what living in the in-between realm has done for your imagination in a very unexpected way. 

“You like bacon,” you offer as an answer. “And sugared strawberries. In the evening, whiskey is your favorite. It smells a little bit like honey, but still spicy. And you must work in the dream tower often at night, because the door to the tower smells like clove and cinnamon and you always smell that way.”

Yoongi’s brows shoot up. You hide your expression with your glass of wine, taking a long draught. It hums in your veins, warm and rushing like nothing you’ve ever felt before. When you lower the glass, Yoongi watches you with an intense expression. You meet his gaze, suddenly unable to look away. 

The air feels charged as you stare. His eyes dip down to your mouth a single time, then back up to your eyes. The breeze moves strands of his hair and you smell the hint of clove followed by cinnamon, just as you always do when he’s near. Your heart starts to staccato as the silence presses on. 

A little shriek cuts through the tension like a knife. You flinch and turn around, looking at a red blur of movement burst from the wisteria trees. Tiera lands with a squawk, the fey dragon huffing as grey smoke curls from her lungs. She ignores you entirely as she normally does and skips over to where Yoongi is sitting before she settles next to him, curling like a cat and laying on her tail.

Yoongi laughs. “Hello, Tiera.” The dragon chuffs and lets out another puff of smoke. “Are you not going to say hello to our friend?” 

When the dragon pays no attention to you, you roll your eyes. “She hates me.”

“Dragons are capricious. She’s been with me for over a hundred years.”

“Not very mature then, is she?”

He chuckles again as you pluck cheese from the platter and pop it into your mouth. You’re delighted to find it’s soft and garlicky with a hint of rosemary as well. “She is still a child in dragon years.” 

“And you let her be a glutton.” 

“You could be too.” Your chewing slows and you swallow the cheese hard. You wait to see if he’s teasing you, but Yoongi watches you with a placid expression. “Dreams and desires are intertwined, you know. Desires come from dreams. It is in my nature to be indulgent.” 

“I’ve never really been indulgent in my life.”

“Do you want to be?”

“What?”

His mouth twitches. “Indulgent.”

“I think this is indulgent,” you gesture to the food. “And you’re teaching me to read and write. That is more indulgence than I could ever dream of.”

He hums and it sounds like disapproval. “I think your dreams are far more indulgent than that.” 

He knows. You think he’s going to say something, to ask about the way you dream of him. Instead, he says, “When you return, we’ll work on your indulgence. There is no shame in wanting things, you know?” 

“I don’t know. How could I?”

Light flashes above your head. You break eye contact with him to look up and gasp. The sky is full of shooting stars, hundreds of them, maybe thousands. The world lights up as you see rainbows streaking across the sky, bursts of colors and explosions of brilliance shooting through the sky. 

Your mouth hangs open as you watch, mystified into silence. You’re sure this is what Yoongi meant when he said Chaos was passing by, for the sky becomes a cacophony of color and stars and light. You blink your eyes, stunned by the display. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, your heart hammering with excitement as you watch it, legs crossed, head tilted up.

The stars begin to slow and there are less bursts of color, until finally, there is just a shimmering wake of stardust and pink simmering in the sky. You look at Yoongi, utterly speechless, to find him looking at you. His eyes reflect the night sky, full of constellations and stardust, glittering in the dark depths of his irises. 

Yoongi’s eyes are as wonderful as the display above, but you don’t say that. 

“That was beautiful,” you breathe. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes don’t leave you when he hums softly in agreement. “It was.” 

Tiera shuffles next to Yoongi, drawing your attention. She snakes her long neck out, tongue tasting the air as she eyes the meat on the table. Yoongi hisses at her and taps her nose in chastisement, earning an angry croak as the dragon shuffles back to her napping position. 

The rest of your evening is spent snacking in companionable silence. Yoongi doesn’t talk much unless he’s answering your hundreds of questions, but tonight, you have none. You’re comfortable to just look at the world around you, the wisteria branches dancing in the breeze. 

In the distance, you hear thunder. Your eyes follow the sound to the same dark peak with lightning crackling through the mist. You’ve yet to ask Yoongi about that peak in particular, but you think you know what looms there. You remember Yoongi talking about how there are nightmares in this realm too, and you’re not eager to ask what that thunderous mountain holds. 

Yoongi doesn’t divulge, either. He watches you as you regard the peak and says nothing. Perhaps even the Eternal of dreams is hesitant to speak of that place, which is a good enough reason for you not to press him further on it. 

When your stomach is full and you’ve had another glass of wine, you lay back in the grass. Your limbs feel heavy with drink and your world is tilted on a slow-rotating axis. The buzz in your veins feels pleasant, though your thoughts are a little sticky like honey and they run together, untamed. 

Careful to keep his distance, Yoongi lays back in the grass with you. His face looks up at the sky, but you look at him. His features are so delicate and soft, nose and cheeks so round. His face don’t make sense in your head, so severe and terrifying yet gentle and innocent at the same time. 

“You’re staring,” he says eventually. 

“I’m indulging,” you tease back, loosened up by wine. “You said I can indulge, so let me stare.”

“What is there to indulge in?” 

“Your… earrings.” 

That makes him look at you, a brow quirked. “My earrings.”

“Yes. Very shiny. Very dangly.”

“Shiny and dangly?”

“Is there an echo out here?” you demand, frowning at him. “Yes, I am indulging in your jewelry!” 

“Would you like some earrings?”

“My ears aren’t pierced.”

“Well then we’ll pierce them.”

“Well,” you grump. “Don’t you have the answer for everything?”

He smiles then, that rare gummy smile that makes you shut right up. “I told you. I’m indulgent. Anything you want, all you need is to ask.” 

Rolling your eyes, you bite your lip to hide your smile at his words. It is insane to you that this ancient being is laying in the grass next to you telling you to only ask what you want. You don’t know what you want, but you do know that this feels like a dream. That you’re not really here, and that you’re going to wake up tomorrow and be in your bed at home. 

Dread fills you at the thought of going back to your parents. In a way, you want to see them. They’re your parents and there is… unfamiliarity without the sound of your mothers needle stitching through cloth. You could do without your father entirely. The rage inside of you when you picture his face is difficult to quell and is often followed by terror. 

Yoongi has told you that you will be safe when you return. You believe him. There is no reason not to. But more than anything, you’re terrified about what comes next. Living between two worlds is something you remember dreaming about that one day in the forest, looking at the way the world was reflected back on the mirror-calm surface of the water. 

Now that you have access to two worlds, you don’t know what to do with the other that has brought you nothing but suffering. And yet, you still want to see what is there. You’re not ready to leave it entirely without knowing. 

“Are you afraid to go back?” 

Yoongi’s question is soft. You don’t hesitate to answer, “Yes.” 

“You won’t be alone. All you have to do is dream of me, and I will come.”

You hesitate then ask, “Do you know any time someone dreams of you?”

“It’s like hearing someone call my name, but I never answer. My business is in creating dreams, not invading them. People like you are able to spin up dreams on your own without my assistance. I help those who cannot.” 

“That sounds like a lovely job.”

He hums. “It’s not without its stresses. I talk a lot about the nature of dreams, but there is more to me and to my job than that. Perhaps we will leave that for your next visit, yes?”

You nod. “Okay.” 

“Come on,” Yoongi sighs, heaving himself upward. “It is late and in the morning, you must return.” 

-

“Touch me,” you beg him, straddling Yoongi’s lap. His head rests against the back of the couch and he looks up at you as you run your fingers through his hair. It’s softer than you imagined, sliding like silk between your fingers. “You told me to ask for what I wanted. Touch me.”

“Anything,” Yoongi agrees. His hands skim up your thighs, warm and rough. He squeezes your flesh, making you moan as his hands continue their worship. Yoongi grips your hips tightly, kneading your flesh as he pulls you closer to him. “Anything. Everything. For you.”

-

When you wake up, you’re confused. The roof above your head is wood and thatch. The mattress beneath you is thin and lumpy, sweat sticking the sheets to your legs. Rolling over, your vision blurs until it comes into focus once more, revealing a tiny room with just a bed, a wardrobe and a closed door. 

Your  room. Well, your room in your parents’ house, you realize with a panic. 

You shoot up in bed as terror claws at you. Did you dream it all? Was it not real? Nothing in your room has changed and the windows are open to the cool air. Grey clouds drift in the sky and you can smell the petrichor of oncoming rain in the distance. 

Rushing to your bedroom door, you rip it open, your heart threatening to burst with how hard it’s beating. You don’t know what you’re looking for or what you expect to find, but the idea that you have just woken up from the most vivid, wonderful dream is so maddening that you need anything to tell you it was real. That it wasn’t in your head.

Your mother is sitting at the kitchen table stitching. She looks up when she hears you. She looks different, leaner and narrower than you ever remember, her greasy hair tied low at her neck. Her hands pause their stitching as she stares at you, stricken. 

“What day is it?” you ask her. The day you had been attacked had been a seventh day. You remember that clearly. “Tell me what day it is!”

Instead, your mother screams in sheer terror. 

Masterlist | Ask | Playlist | Series Masterlist | Tag Lists | Next Chapter

#yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #suga fanfic #suga bts #yoongi series #suga smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #minors dni #minors do not interact

[alonetimelover]

pairing: Harry Styles x equestrian!reader

fc: Jessica Springsteen

summary: in which harry needed to learn how to ride a horse for his daylight music video

a/n: thank you to the anon that requested equestrian!reader

masterlist

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 42 101 others

harryupdates HARRY SPOTTED FILMING SOMETHING IN ATLANTA!!!!!!!!

view all 4 201 comments

hArrysbtch NO FUCKING WAY

hArrysbtch WHAT IS HAPPENING

harrysmoustache STOP whatever you're doing, just STOP

harrysmylife King is back

harryshoee this is for daylight, i'm telling you!

⤷ stylesbabie didn't he film sth with james?

⤷ harryshoee i think it was only for the show and not the original music video. at least I hope so!!!

harrybestie phoebe is that you?

harryno1fan he has a strange mind...

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yourinstagram

liked by harryupdates and 24 301 others

yourinstagram Olympics are no more for us, so Don Juan joined a circus!

view all 1 301 comments

hArrysbtch ill recognise that bitch anywhere!!!!

harryshoee ariana what are you doing here?????

harryupdates 👀

user49 hello, why are "Olympics no more"?

⤷ yourinstagram hiii! jumping has been removed from Olympics because of an incident that happened during one of the competitions.

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, stylesbabie and 33 201 others

harrysupdates HARRY FOLLOWED YN YSN ON IG AND TWITTER! he liked all of her photos and commented on the last 10!

view all 4 201 comments

harryupdates YN YSN is equestrian that won silver medal at the 2020 Olympics! she also is rumoured to be involved in harry's daylight music video!!

hArrysbtch nah, that bitch is gone!

harrysmoustache he's taken?!

harrysmylife maaaaan, he in love

stylesbabie oh she so posted a picture of harry on her ig then

harryshoee we're the same. I've done the same to her profile. I love her too

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harrylisbon

liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 67 208 others

harrylisbon WTHAJDKOW GUYS!!!! HARRY JUST PLAYED THIS DURING DAYLIGHT!!!!!

view all 10 401 comments

harryupdates what is going on?????

hArrysbtch what if he drops ot during the final show????

harryshoee im losing my shit rn

stylesbabie im seeing him in Rome, he better played it in the background!!!!

harrysmoustache screaming crying throwing up

harrysfan82 I died dead

harrysfan03 i lost the idgaf war....

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harryupdates

liked by yourinstagram, harryshoee and 58 401 others

harryupdates DAYLIGHT MV 19th JULY 5PM UK

view all 6 402 others

harryupdates guess what? im not sleeping again tonight!

hArrysbtch excuse me, i have heart problems

harrysmoustache yellow bird supremacy!!!!!

yourinstagram 🏇🏻🏇🏻🏇🏻

⤷ hArrysbtch what you mean???????

⤷ harrysmylife yn, tell me you're involved!

⤷ yourinstagram 🤫

harrysmylife he's in his taylor era

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harrystyles

liked by harryupdates, yourinstagram and 8 301 031 others

harrystyles DAYLIGHT MV just for you, H xx yourinstagram

view all 491 301 comments

yourinstagram Don Juan looks magnificent!

⤷ harrystyles what about me?

⤷ yourinstagram we still need to work on your posture

⤷ harrystyles yes, ma'am

⤷ hArrysbtch WTF, he knows how to comment?????

harryupdates that's your best video to date

harrysmylife he can ride??? what can't he do??

annetwist Proud ❤️

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch and 49 302 others

harryupdates "She was the first choice from the moment the idea popped in my head. I couldn't be happier about it. She's the best." HARRY ON WORKING WITH YN IN DAYLIGHT MUSIC VIDEO BTS

view all 5 302 comments

hArrysbtch he in love

harrysmoustache HE BLUSHED SO HARD!!!!!

harryshoee the clips of the laughing together??????

harrysmylife and and and the way he looks at her

harrysfan94 but the clip when yn's doing all the jumping and all??? she's sooo good. couldn't harry just have her starring in the mv?

⤷ yourinstagram yeah, harrystyles?

⤷ harrystyles there is this version...

⤷ hArrysbtch WHAT

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, stylesbabie and 492 301 others

yourinstagram THE Don Juan and some indie singer on their first lesson

view all 49 302 comments

harrystyles the star 🐎

harryupdates the shade???

stylesbabie uhhh, they so together

harryshoee do you give lessons to ordinary people?

⤷ yourinstagram during the summer when there's no competition I'm holding a camp. you can enrol with the link in my bio!

⤷ user92 be careful, it's expensive as hell!

⤷ yourinstagram well, we do not take any money from our pupils. we ask for food or money (however much you want) donation! hope that helps, x

harrysmoustache oh, I'm so in love with them

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harryupdates

liked by harrysmoustache and 49 301 others

harryupdates YN AND HARRY SPOTTED HORSE RIDING OUTSIDE OF LONDON!

view all 7 492 others

hArrysbtch oh so we know what he's going to do during the break

harrysmylife 😭that's😭so😭sweet😭

stylesbabie he looks so cute in his little outfit

harryshoee SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY

harrysmyman unholy thought, unholy

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, hArrysbtch and 830 201 others

yourinstagram ❤️❤️❤️

view all 49 201 comments

harrystyles congratulations, darling.

commemt liked by yourinstagram and 68 302 others

harryupdates the support

hArrysbtch we haven't heard from him in months

⤷ harrysmoustache and we've got a prize today for waiting patiently

stylesbabie everyone say: THANK YOU, YN

harrysmylife and everything started because this man has a mind strange enough to start a circus...

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles instagram #harry styles fake ig #harry styles #equestrian!reader

[cartierre]

SHOOTING STAR | cl16

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU charles leclerc x fem!kpop idol!reader

side note: this lowkey made me want to start a kpop account lmao second side note: this took forever to edit. like, to actually edit because a lot of the posts are custom made. original songs: "shooting star" by xg "motospeed24" and "animal farm" by bibi "best lover" by 88rising and bibi "anywhere but home" by seulgi "impurities" by le sserafim

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, taeyeon_ss, hyoyeon_x_x and 2,749,304 others

yourusername Y/N The 5th Mini Album 'SHOOTING STAR' 🎧2023.02.17 6PM (KST) #당신의 이름 (your name) #Y/N #SHOOTINGSTAR

view all 9,392 comments

user1 omg finally, we've been starved for long enough!

user2 i didn't know charles listened to kpop ⤷ user4 watch them announcing they're dating ⤷ user5 the delusion lmao

user6 y/n and bts collab when

taeyeon_ss my angel is back! comment liked by yourusername ⤷ yourusername 🫶🏻🫶🏻

user7 Y/N LITERALLY NEVER DISAPPOINTS. THE VISUALS OML ⤷ user8 she is the idol of idols

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, yerimiese, real_pcy and 2,103,098 others

yourusername SHOOTING STAR MV Teaser 🎧2023.02.17 6PM (KST) #당신의 이름 (your name) #Y/N #SHOOTINGSTAR

view all 8,302 comments

user9 charles continues being here ⤷ user10 he's entering his kpop phase

user11 mother is motheringggggg

user12 i just know we're gonna have a whole feast!

user13 charles liking all her posts... my two worlds are colliding ⤷ user14 we love it here

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, bumkeyk, taeyeon_ss and 2,938,031 others

yourusername 너무 예뻐요 (so pretty)

view all 9,208 comments

user15 EXCUSE ME THE LAST PICTURE??!! ⤷ user16 i'm GAGGED

user17 first she's dropping soty (song of the year) and now she drops a soft launch? ⤷ user18 fuck the soft launch, i want a hard launch. i need to know who this is

user19 charles stuck in the likes... am i sensing something? ⤷ user20 i mean... it is race week...

user21 laughing, crying, throwing up rn

user22 sorry but y/n is for the girls and the girls only ⤷ user23 whoever this is needs to move his ass away from her fr

user24 everyone's fighting but i'm just glad my girl y/n is getting dicked down

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, zkdlin and 2,938,204 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

yourusername 모두 빨간색 (all red)

view all 10,053 comments

user25 IT'S HAPPENING, I REPEAT, IT IS HAPPENING

user26 y/n dropping a picture of both charles and carlos to make it less obvious that she's dating charles is so funny

charles_leclerc a not so great weekend, but great company! comment liked by yourusername

user27 charles finally got the balls to comment after lurking in her likes for ages ⤷ user28 and she doesn't even reply HAHAHAHA poor charles

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfiction #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction #kpop smau #kpop social media au #kpop instagram au

[ghouloflove]

when worlds collide (pt.2)

[ in other words, the only female member of the biggest korean band in the world goes to formula 1 race in monaco with a friend; only to meet a certain ferrari driver. ]

pairing: charles leclerc x afab!oc/fc (reader is an idol)

note(s): this social media AU has its own race schedule that may not make sense but simply try to enjoy it. “Kim Soyeon” is face claimed by Soyeon from G-IDLE (recommend!). google translated Korean, French, and Italian. i tried my best to remember how certain aspects of the kpop mechanisms but it’s been awhile since I’ve in deep. also giving charles a good season so :)

—enjoy.

part one. part three.

[ instagram ]

s0ye0nnn

• tagged thv & charles_leclerc

liked by thv, charles_leclerc, wi_wi_wi, rkive, and 4,789,654 others

s0ye0nnn a week trip to austria 🇦🇹 with taetae. went to another grand prix but no tae :( but lovely sight to see how ferrari celebrates for P1 :)

view all 2,879,623 comments

thv goal: photo trip

view 104,765 replies

s0ye0nnn 🙃

taehyung101 bro is shakespeare but photography

lilymhe so cool to meet you!! youre so ahh!

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

scuderiaferrari Absolute pleasure having you with us—in our squad of winners 🏆 You must be a lucky charm, hahaa!

charles_leclerc The luckiest charm I have right now 🍀 Should we be expecting you for the next Grand Prix?

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

view 45,763 replies

s0ye0nnn too kind, but no :( i have….projects to work on, hahaa

thefourkimmies “I HAVE” SIR SIR SIR AND SOYEOON NN, PRKJECT????? OMFG IM FAin tting..

f1but16cl ….idk how to feel about this

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[ twitter ]

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[ instagram ]

s0ye0nnn

liked by charles_leclerc, lilyhme, agustd, and 6,764,889 others

s0ye0nnn “PSYCHO” track AND music video is coming out in six weeks time, Thrusday. This is a single for the upcoming movie that your 🐻‍❄️ will be featured in, “Home of Dark Webs” (a Netflix original). Enjoy these stills and on set for the MV for now :)

view all 2,684,873 comments

agustd hair is black or blonde?

view all 346,789 replies

s0ye0nnn 임시 염료 🙂 (translation: temporary dye)

soyeonssloot hes asking the real question 😅

charles_leclerc I suppose this makes up not seeing you for the last two races and you not telling me why, haha! superbe 🤍 (translation: stunning)

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

view all 34,679 replies

s0ye0nnn i’m glad 😆 but i watch dw :) p1 always….

↳ charles_leclerc Always my good charm. 🍀🤍

k.f1.pop wtf is going on.

cl164liverrr ayo ur on main, my boy

danielricciardo I guess not all good luck charms are sane then…

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s0ye0nnn

tagged danielricciardo

liked by charles_leclerc, rkive, wi_wi_wi, and 4,784,980 others

s0ye0nnn i missed Singapore since our tours🇸🇬 was always a good time, this time no different. first grand prix back after missing three, sorry for “starving” you all of my outfits, haha! p.s thanks daniel for the company 😌

and threes weeks time like until “PSYCHO” is out ;)

view all 2,749,743 comments

rkive 재킷? (jacket?)

view 109,742 replies

s0ye0nnn got hot -_-

↳ rkive 🙃

danielricciado Hey, free food and potential snippets? Count me in!

f0rmulaaa101 gtfo

s0yeonnnsloots im loving her Grand Prix “Formula 1” era rn 😗

charles_leclerc Very nice to see you in person again, my lucky charm 🤍

view all 50,738 replies

s0ye0nnn p2, red 🤍

s0yeonnssloot shes flirting on main.

scuderiaferrari Such a great pleasure having you with us again, just make sure not get lost during our two week wait for the next Grand Prix! We’re expecting you, haha 🍀

_________________________________________________

letsgossip_kpop

liked by k.f1.pop, and 864,732 others

letsgossip_kpop [ Your admin 🧝‍♀️ is here TO BRING YOU THE GOSSIP ON THE STREET: Kim Soyeon of BTS and Charles Leclerc, Formula 1 driver for Ferrari, have been caught up in dating rumors! As many may know, Soyeon had attented the Monaco Grand Prix with friend Wi Ha-Jun (actor in Squid Games) four and half months back—first of many obviously. Since then, Soyeon has attended each Grand Prix expect three due to the announcement of her role in “Home of Dark Webs” and shooting for her music video of the single “PSYCHO”. She has made her return to the tracks in Singapore, accompanied by Formula 1 driver, Daniel Ricciardo. Into the juicy gossip, her recent instagram post, a photo dump, has her photographed in what seems to be an act gallery, wearing her leather jacket and the next, not. She commented saying “got hot”, but is that really the case? Charles Leclerc posted to instagram twice—but the last one far more interesting (photo 1); a woman in an art gallery, wearing a seemingly similar jacket to the one Soyeon wore in her post with a caption of “🤍”. To add on, his affectionate comment on her post, “Very nice to see you in person again, my lucky charm 🤍”. Of course, this is not the first time many have speculated they may be dating or been a friendly joke—but this is all too coincidental. Did she get hot simply because of the jacket or because the sexy driver boyfriend behind the camera? Stay tunned! ]

view all 588,733 comments

letsgossip_kpop Enjoy the padlock look of Kim Soyeon in the second photo :) - 🧝‍♀️

k.f1.pop ive been here since the beginning and wowwww i may be delulu but the posts by her and his recent activity surrounding her—thats courting if i ever seen it

view all 32 replies

psychoye0nn courting!?!? FUCK WE IN?? 1700s!?? LOR DOF THE RINGS??? 💀💀

supermaxstappen question 🙋‍♀️ why does she never post herself in the padlock?

view 12 replies

k.f1.pop shes a korean idol, part of the most known groups but also “Queen” of Aces and with the amount of photographers there already and some JUST there for HER….trust we (kpop) get enough by that, and shes know it too so she doesn’t do it cuz its BEEN done

lyannaa4 and?? guys and girls can be friends plus if they were dating, theres a reason they aint talking abt it??v

jh0pieeee ….is the queen of aces really going for a man that goes vroom vroom in circles on the weekends for a living ??? and is part of the most clown team? (f1 fan myself)

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[ twitter ]

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authors final note: i hate tumblrs limit on photos. anyways oooo something is going on between soyeon and charles!! 😅 again in this sm au universe, soyeon is you. you are THAT bitch. or soyeon can be an “original character” if you want :) whatever your heart desires.

for the piano ig story of charles, here is the youtube link to what i was imaging for it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3i_5hiffjCk

check it out, it is so beautiful! might write a short piece on their meeting and this what i will be listening to as i do, haha.

ALSO!! thank you all so so much for the likes, and the reblogs!!! literally thank you so much, i almost did not post the first part but i'm so glad i did! so thank you, its nice to see that people are enjoying my work :) PART THREE IS OUT! SCROLL TO TOP OF THIS POST AND CLICK “PART THREE”—ENJOY!

--and the world is yours, until next time.

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc x oc #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x oc

[nightswithkookmin]

SEVEN BY JUNGKOOK PT1

Disclaimer: this review is from a shipper's perspective and it's objective is to rebut a few misconceptions about 7.

When I first heard the song was gonna be titled seven, I rolled my eyes- like how many times are these boys going to pander to Army with the whole 0T7 agenda right? Here they with yet another song about how much they love eachother like come on! I love BTS, I do but- I mean yall had the tattoos and the cute meet ups, and heart wrenching sappy goodbyes- isn't that enough why yall gotta make yet another song about your bond and friendship WHYYYYYY yall don't have nothing else to talk about? I thought season two was yall on tour grown grown shit- how is this growth if you singing bout the same thing over and over- right? BOY WAS I WRONG ABOUT THAT!

It's a good thing I didn't come out here to rant about that cos that would have been the biggest embarrassment of my life and I would be eating my words right about now while penning several apology letters to Jungkook- anonymously.

Seven thus, to me, is surprisingly good. Not at all what I had thought the song would be about so when I tell yall I was screaming up and down in my living room surprised and amazed clapping and cheering on as if this was the best thing I ever heard- yall wouldn't even understand.

It is why the first thing I love about the song is the title and how creative it is in as much as it doubles as a play on the word and teases out his connection to Bangtan- say whatever you want but I think that was hella genius and creative and reflects Jungkook's personality for someone who has always been creative in this way from his use of color contrasts in his GCFs to tell a story right down to choosing ABCD as his IG handle.

The MV had Jungkook written all over it- playful, goofy fun yet delightfully hot- it's the memes for me.

It was nice to see him be himself in a music video- nothing felt forced and contrived to me nor seemed out of character and that's what gave the song the flair I think it has. Jungkook pulled this off smoothly.

His acting was spot on- I loved the female character in there (in spite of yall saying they didn't gat chemistry) that's just because she's my type so thank you for that Jungkook. Mean cold emotionally unavailable, physically intimidating- yea no, I'm in love with her not gonna lie🤧

And I don't know what it is but she reminds me of Park Jimin too. And I sorta kinda like Jimin soo🥴

Is it the cheek bone?

Or the neck and shoulders

Either way, she invokes the same feelings I get when I look at Park Jimin- strong alpha female😌 may be it's because they both give off masc/fem androgyny energy and I like that shit- eat it up nom

She played her role very well and helped sell the story.

Those saying they lacked chemistry yall never seen BTS around girls huh cos it doesn't get better than this😩😩😩😩😩

Don't know if yall were expecting them to be flirting and shit- at least this female lead played center I'm still trying to find the female lead in JMs MV😭🤣🤣

I'm actually surprised how good Jungkook's acting turned out in this MV. Whatever they were doing in the restaurant- I'm sold.

And I know alot of people aren't too enthused by the plot of the MV- a young man hopelessly in love with their partner to the point of clinginess and obsession- look, may be if I were looking at this concept from an outside in perspective I would find issues there with that narrative too but as some one who has been following these men almost through out their music career and have had the privilege of consuming content beyond the music they do- I kinda find it hilarious 😂

Hilarious because it's everything fans, and BTS accuse Kook of- it's giving me war flashbacks to the perila leaf conversation they had, to all the times he and Jimin have been caught sneaking into each other's hotel rooms because CLINGY, to Jimin complaining he comes into his room at 1am just to sit on the bed and do nothing, to all the theories about Kook being the clingy one in Jikook- hate to say I told ya😆

It's almost as if he's saying we'll folks yall are not wrong I kinda is clingy and I'm not ashamed🤣🤣🤣🤣

He's a hopeless romantic and he hasn't made that a secret at all. To me, what this is is he's owning the narrative- that is if this was a conscious decision and artistic choice by him.

I had to look up the director of the MV and this is the first time in my life I've genuinely cared about the director behind any project for that matter cos how much of a coincidence is this to cast characters who complement each other so well and craft a narrative which is not a narrative at all!

Their website says they blend "youth and pop culture with high concept storytelling." Well they pulled that off. The plot is simple and easy to follow and reflects pop culture. I wouldn't say this is exactly ground breaking though, because it's been done over and over again- but I think Jungkook rejuvenated the concept by adding his own take and personality to it. It was done well and I must give him high praise for this.

If you are a fan of pop culture and pop music this is consumable as fuck. The song is really catchy. And that's just the thing, there is a market for this genre of music whether you like it or not and he doesn't have to cater to everyone's taste all at once. However to me, this is a step in the right direction for his career especially if he is to position himself as a global artist.

People may know BTS but not everyone knows Jeon Jungkook and this right here is him carving a niche out for himself. He is not trying to ride on the success of BTS. He is not trying to be the solo version of BTS. He is trying to be JEON JUNGKOOK.

His music is gonna play in every teens living room, every adults bedroom, in the club on the streets- he's reaching places even BTS struggled to reach and that's the power of his brand.

He's making waves and he's only just begun. And it's about damn time too!

I don't have much to say about Latto other than give that bae some grammy just for the titties😩 the explicit version of the song makes so much sense why she was so freakylicious up on a BTS song😭😭😭😭

First I was like gurl what? Slurp what??? Then I heard the fucking you right version- I said carry on. My mistake chilee. Jungkook ma n*ga you wild.

It's refreshing to see him step into his power and own his image and his brand and control the narratives- if not capitalize on them.

Overall I think this was a great pop song and Jungkook carried it so well. He's gonna go places. It's high from here and nothing less.

While on the subject, let me address some of the remarks people have been making about the song. To anyone complaining this is yet another pop song- with all due respect, he is not Beethoven he is not an Opera singer he is a freakn pop artist 😩

If yall are tired of pop music just say so and go but don't come for a pop artist doing what a pop artist is supposed to do- and don't let a lie slip out of your mouth it's a great pop song that bops. Seven freakn days a week.

No other kpop artist have come this close to breaking into a western market much less come this close to dominating it. And to some of us, this has always been the dream. I have spent so many sleepless nights meditating and praying for BTS particularly Jikook to gain a strong foothold in the western music market, beyond Korea and Asia and when finally they are making attempts and moves towards that goal yall want to tear him down- fuck yall opps HE IS FREE BITCH.

At this point I really don't care whether people like the song or not because we have moved past that stage where their in their progress in their career was contingent on people liking their shit. How are you gonna like a song if you've never even heard it? Now more than ever, what's important is reaching as many listeners as possible and to that end I think they are all on a right truck.

Jungkook is out to make a name for himself and solidify himself as one of the top pop artist in the world and I don't think his language or country should hold him back- asking him to stick to Korean songs is holding him back from his full potential. Faulting him for for branching out and reaching for the stars is equally holding him back and putting him in a box- well burn that box would you.

I really hope seven is the first of many English pop songs he will make because we want to see more of him, all of him and especially what he can contribute to the genre he dabbles in. His best is yet to come.

And for those complaining seven is nothing new- understand IT IS NEW FOR JUNGKOOK. It is new for many of us who are seeing him do this for the FIRST TIME AS A SOLO ARTIST.

His English keeps improving with each new song, his delivery gets better and better- yall just leave him alone please and thank you.

My final thoughts, as the main vocalist of BTS HE SURELY LIVED UP TO HIS REPUTATION WITH SEVEN. HIS PERFORMANCE WAS AMAZING, COSTUME LOOKED GREAT, SET WAS FANTASTIC AND HIS VOCALS WAS FLAWLESS.

If this is the start we are off to a good start.

The MV to me gave him opportunity to showcase more of his goofy personality, to show people he really doesn't take himself too seriously and has a great sense of humor.

As a performer he nailed his role. Definitely understood the assignment. And it's a good thing they casted a strong female lead cos them damsels in distress be getting on my nerves.

Do we need more of this? Yes AND YESS AND HELL YES!!!!

Between Jimin's Angel and this, you guys have no idea how excited I am for their journey. I want to see more collabs, I want to see them take more risks and build their individual brands.

Jungkook should definitely consider acting. A cameo in a popular American series wouldn't hurt his career.

In fact, the entire maknae line should.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

BPP, sorry if you've answered this question before but what is your best song from Face?

***

Hi @tabbypuppykitty

I’ve had a rethink. I think Face-off is now my favourite song on the album.

Set Me Free Pt 2 is still top 3, but Jimin’s enunciation on Face-off brings a smile to my face every time I hear it because that man is too damn sassy for his own good lool.

In the latest Suchwita episode, Hobi revealed that Jimin practiced live singing six hours everyday before and during FACE promotions.

Six hours. Every day.

That made me pause. I started thinking about everything that happened during FACE. I don't talk about this at all here because I won't ever share personal pictures and I know I was incredibly lucky and many other people here likely deserved to see him before I did, but I saw Jimin live during his very first shows for FACE.

He was so happy. The joy on his face and the way he worked the crowd... like a fish in water. He gave some of the best performances of the year during FACE promotions. The whole project and the thoughtful way he went about promoting the album, is noteworthy.

(You should watch this if you haven't already)

*

But then I remembered the BS, the way k-pop stans reacted to the album, to the MVs, to the encore stage, the way BTS akgaes indulged in their sociopathy on his account, how BigHit failed (the anger Jimin biases feel is justified but some of y'all are wallowing in it). I remembered a few of Jimin's Wlives, how so much has been going on for him this year, and then tried to fit 6 hours daily practicing into it...

I have to stop myself when I think about Jimin. He has such latent intensity, like a glamour, a force field around him... it's like a black hole that sucks everything, including you, into him and his world. It scares me.

I know I whine about Jimin biases but y'all amaze me ngl. It takes a special fortitude of heart to bias Jimin. This post already sounds incredibly effusive, but I don't believe I'm exaggerating when I say he's a truly beautiful person. It's almost as though the world does not deserve him. It's impossible to not love him, desire him, care for him... want more sooner for him. I see all that, but I also see that man is stubborn as fuck.

He took his time to start work on his solo album. The middle of the Vegas concerts is when he said he suddenly came to his senses, shook himself out of that trance, and earnestly started putting together the FACE project. He'd written songs before, but FACE was its own thing. The personal stories he chose to communicate, the care in lyricism and production, the quality... Jimin created art in FACE and trusted that those who care for nothing but the best, will love it.

That's sexy, but the way he went about it also betrays a conservatism in him. It's a shadow of the edge in him, that thing about him that causes a tinge of anxiety when you watch him too closely.

I'm not sure if I'm making sense, but what I mean to say is you need a special kind of courage to bias and love Jimin. I recognize that. When I write what I do here, I always remember that. I also have very little respect for solos. And those two sentiments aren't mutually exclusive.

But taking it back to Face-off, my favourite thing about it is Jimin's sense of humour and skill coming through in the song, as well as how he enunciates his words. To really hear the switch in his tone, you need to stream in this order:

Like Crazy > Alone > Set Me Free Pt 2 > Face-off

By the time you get to Face-off, Jimin's voice has already gone through every variation possible, but then he brings out a tone I've heard only one other artist do well (Rihanna), and that tone is disgust.

Pure, refined sass. And he's already got the sauciest voice in k-pop.

The melodic and tonal choices Jimin makes at these timestamps fucks with my head:

1:53 - 2:08;

2:16 - 2:25;

2:41 - 2:56....

(lol, at this rate you might as well just listen to the whole song again.) Jimin is fantastic in the whole thing.

Europe is where Jimin belongs, but America would eat Jimin up too. The country already does if we're being real, America already loves Jimin. But given the right concept, Jimin would devour because he always does, and the world should get to see it. I hope I get to see more of it. As I've said before, if you feel inclined to communicate that to BigHit, I strongly suggest you do.

During Suchwita, Hobi showed how he's planned content for fans almost years in advance. It's possible Jimin does this too, planning music and content for fans to see months later... (So we might not learn why he went to London, for months...)

Yeah... I don't have the strength of heart to bias Jimin. Good luck to y'all.

*

...that was kind of a lot lool. So to calm down, Jimin:

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

Anyway, sorry I rambled. Face-off is a really good song and Jimin did an excellent job on it. The whole project is very good so I can't wait for the next songs we get from him. Shit can't get worse than BB deleting D2C sales so on the bright side, we can only go up from here, and for Jimin who already owns the record as the first soloist in history to debut #1 on the Billboard Hot 100, up will be a good spot to be.

Stream Like Crazy, Seven, All Day, and HUH?!

#jimin #park jimin #jimin face #bts #kpop #bangtan

[thepetesimp]

Hello everyone. I'm currently losing my mind.

BOC released a new teaser for the final episode of DFF, in order to promote their live event for it and it gave me so many thoughts. In case you haven't seen it, it's this one on Instagram (they've also posted it on Twitter).

It's so trippy and cool and it gave us a lot of good shots of all the characters and what haunts them in regards to Non, but I'll focus on Tee and White, because I have my biases and that's so valid of me.

(I'll assume everything in the trailer is symbolic, like in the first trailer they had released and do my analysis with that assumption in mind.)

Long post ahead:

After we get a brief montage of moments we've already seen in the show with some beautiful background music (it's this one, I love it), we see the brothers and then we start seeing everyone's fears. We see Fluke being scared of the police catching him, we see Top being scared of a haunting, bloody Non chasing him in the forest and then,

we see Tee.

Tee is holding Non's knife in his hands, looking arguably disgusted with it (with himself). The scene cuts to three consecutive visuals which you have to pause the teaser to see clearly. I tried my best here, apologies if the quality is bad.

But the real winner is the two images after that.

Tee feels guilt for what happened to Non. I think everyone can understand this by now. He observes the knife in his hands drowning in this feeling, and it creates the image of himself pointing the knife directly onto Non's stomach, who's wearing the T-shirt he wore the day he got drugged and taken away to Tee's uncle. It's very intriguing to me how Non seems to either be trying to stop him or urging Tee to stab him. We'll find out soon enough what's the case.

Because they involve White.

OK first things first, the shot is gorgeous. I love the colors and the framing and everything about it.

They're inside what seems to be a gaming room, which I'll assume is where they probably met, based on the Without Me MV BOC put out a few weeks ago.

(Notice how the color pallette is the same, too)

Tee is wearing his school uniform (stuck in the past, stuck to Non), while White is wearing the clothes from the cabin (in the present, away from Non but not really). They already are in two different timelines, which is also evident by their positions - Tee is a few steps behind White in the visual.

What caught my attention, besides everything else, was those shiny things on the floor. I can't see them very well, but in my opinion, they're condom wrappers. They go all the way back, symbolizing the duration of the relationship between Tee and White.

The interesting thing here, to me, is how they stop just before Tee's body, and then reappear after him, in front of White, with some of them dipped in blood.

A lot of people, me included, think NonWhite is a possibility, which makes this choice here very interesting. I'll grab onto it with two hands and wait to see what will be revealed tomorrow.

Speaking of Non, I think it's fair to assume the blood on the floor is Non's blood, which makes White staring directly into it become another version of Non, narrative wise. Both innocent boys entangled in Tee's life, both suffering because of Tee. My good friend @wretchedamaranth told me it reminded them of this painting of Narcissus by Caravaggio: White is looking at himself, as if the blood has become a mirror.

Which makes the next visual even more telling: blood separated by a thin line (it's almost blurred but it isn't, White becomes Non becomes White in Tee's eyes). On the right, the big amount is Non's, on the left, White's shadow is creeping into the shot.

It's White's blood. White is going to die.

We get zero things on White besides this. Absolutely none. Does this mean White is indeed a bystander in all of this? Should we take the words of Fuaiz here at face value?

(Source: DFF BTS Ep10)

Fuaiz could be talking about the scene we have seen, not what will come after. But he could just as well be talking in general about White as a character.

All I have to say is: Brace yourselves, fellow TeeWhite fans. We're in for a tragedy.

#I missed BOC's incredible trailers without even realizing it #I'm so hyped to see how DFF will end #I can't wait to cry my eyes out about TeeWhite #teewhite #dead friend forever #dff the series #tee dff #white dff

[7ndipity]

Get to know me

Thanks to @bethanysnow for tagging me!

❣ Who is your favorite Kpop group?❣

Bts and Stray Kids! There's several groups that I love, but these two hold a very special place in my heart💜

❣ Which member sparked your interest first?

I don't quite remember for Bts, but I'm pretty sure it was Namjoon. I was really drawn to his general style and aesthetic, as well as his solo work like Mono.

For Skz, it was Hyunjin, bc gifs of him kept popping up in my recommendations after the 'Oh' mv was released and I got curious and checked them out. So it's basically his fault for bringing me into this fandom, lol!

❣ Who was your first bias?

Yoongi and Chan

❣ Who is your current bias?

Yoongi and Chan(lol)

❣ What makes them your bias?

For Yoongi, he's the grandpa to my grandma energy, lol! Fr tho, I think it's bc he's so genuinely himself?? Like I love his dry humor, his writing style, his awkward tsundere energy, despite having such a soft heart🥺. Like, I will never understand how people think he's cold or indifferent, he's such a kind, loving person. I really admire his drive and passion for music, he's one of the people who inspired me to take back up writing. Idk, it's just everything.

For Chan, he's just super sweet and funny, and he clearly cares so much for everyone around him, from his group members to their crew/staff to the fans. He's also just soo relatable, and I really admire his dynamic with the fans, he feels like a best friend. I also really appreciate his honesty on tougher topics like self love and mental health. He's brought me so much comfort on tough days and makes me want to be a better person. Again, Idk, he's just Chris💜

❣ Who is your bias wrecker?

Literally EVERY OTHER MEMBER of both groups, lol! Like it's impossible not to love all of them!

❣ Which member(s) are you currently obsessing over that aren't your bias/bias wrecker?

For Skz, Minho(I blame @bethanysnow for helping fuel this lol) and a bit Han(the new curly hairstyle and the song covers he keeps posting on insta feel like a direct attack on me I swear)

❣ When did you first discover this group?

I'd been vaguely familiar with Bts for a few years, but it wasn't until my sister sent me some of their mvs back in 2020 that I started actively listening to their music.

For Skz, it was the summer of 2021, just after the 'Oh' mv was released, like I mentioned above.

❣ Have you ever been to one of their concerts?

No, but a girl can dream

❣ What are some of your favorite songs by the group?

Bts:

Paradise, The truth untold, Louder than bombs, Blood sweat tears, Zero 'o clock, Blue & gray, Pied piper, Jamais vu,

Skz:

Oh, Gone Away, Sorry I love you, Red lights, Chill, Cover me, Hello stranger, Waiting for us

Tagging @a-gayish-unicorn @crabby-libra @this-must-be-my-tardis and whoever else wants to play!

#7ndipity speaks #tag game

[tokyokookmin]

MY FAVOURITE JIKOOK STAGES

Jikook - power duo/aces of the group / main dancers/axis of the group. Yes, I'm talking about Jikook. The power couple. The duo rocks the stage with their charismatic personality and appearance. Amazing visuals. Sexy body. Powerful moves. Amazing vocals.

I thought of doing this post since we don't really get to talk about their dynamics on stage often. So, here's a post featuring my favourite JIKOOK stages as a unit in live concerts, off-stage dances, MV's and events. Also, keep in mind that I'm not ranking the stages. Whichever moment crops up in my mind first secures the top spot ya :)

Let's get it

BEST OF ME

The most epic part of their choreography. Jikook as a unit with their power moves.

LOTTE FAMILY CONCERT

2. BTS 5TH MUSTER

3. BTS 4TH MUSTER

HONORABLE MENTION

4. 2021 NEW YEAR'S EVE LIVE

5. BEST OF ME BTS COMEBACK SHOW

6. BTS BEST OF ME DANCE PRACTICE #2022FESTA

RUN BTS

BTS YET TO COME BUSAN RUN BTS

FIRST OF ALL. THE SONG. IT'S LITERALLY SUCH A HYPE SONG. SECOND. This is my latest FAV JIKOOK MOMENT ON STAGE - CHOREOGRAPHY WISE. It's a shame we only got one moment. But hey, it's good enough!

DYNAMITE

Let's never forget our QUEEN, DYNAMITE. The best pop song in 2020. BTS's ENGLISH SONG DEBUT. 2020 BTS was delightful!

BTS DYNAMITE DANCE PRACTICE (CUTIE AND LOVELY VER)

2. BTS TIME MAGAZINE DYNAMITE PERFORMANCE 2020

3. BTS SBS GAYO DAEJUN 2020 DYNAMITE PERFORMANCE

HONORABLE MENTIONS

BTS DYNAMITE 2020 GRAMMY AWARDS

BTS DYNAMITE 2020 AGT

BTS DYNAMITE LATE LATE SHOW W JAMES CORDEN 2020

THE TONIGHT SHOW W JIMMY FALLON DYNAMITE BTS 2020

BOY WITH LOVE

Cutesy, Subtle moments.

1. MMA 2019 BWL BTS

2. BWL IHEART MUSIC

3. BTS 5TH MUSTER

COMING OF AGE CEREMONY

1. FESTA 2016 BTS

We only had one performance but it was amazing. Jikooks power moves are splendid. I absolutely adore their efforts to produce a fantastic dance cover for the FESTA 2016 event.

BLACK OR WHITE

BTS PROM PARTY

Again. We only had this performance once though it indeed captured our hearts. An iconic song.

BLACK SWAN

I saved the best for the last. Yes, Black Swan. That one performance went viral in 2020. It amazed everyone. They were the cover of the news and the talk of the town for multiple days. Their immaculate and gracious dance moved all of us, didn't it?

BLACK SWAN MMA 2020

It was beautiful. Mesmerizing. Gracious.

I wanted to put this here as well

It's a wrap. I hope to continue this post soon!

All usage of Twitter links, Article links and Youtube links are provided. You can find them on my Twitter page if needed. I retweet all the tweets I use for my posts as a reference.

I said I'll be more active. Sometimes I just need to put this blog aside to tend more to my personal life.

xx, tokyokookmin.

#jikook #kookmin #jkjm #jk #jm #bts park jimin #bts jeon jungkook #jkkrs #jungkook #jimin #jimin jungkook #i need to sort my feelings out #personal note to myself #why that song #after years?

[ask-serendipity-sky]

A Fan's Perspective

So now that things are calmer, I've been thinking a lot about those people that ship Tae and Jungkook and this whole ordeal.

Also Jimin.

Right now, we were watching Angel's mv and in my recommended videos I had some videos from those people. It's weird because the first and only times I watched those were back when I first got into BTS and they popped up. And they popped up again for no reason.

So we decided to watch some just to see.

At first, I found them comical but as I was explaining all the mistranslations, the editing, the use of only bits of a live or concert and whatever, I started to get upset. The videos stopped being funny.

Then, I got to a short where the narrative was that Jimin was testing Tae's patience because he butted into the "Jungkook marry me" convo from the Busan welive.

Anyone with eyes can see that Tae was unbothered and Jimin wanted to discuss the topic with Jungkook. It's exactly what happened. Jimin never provoked Tae because Tae didn't even care. Tae was laughing along.

At this point, I was legit angry.

And Tae "accidentally" revealing what people with a brain knew wasn't really anything to me anymore.

It was yesterday, but not today.

Because no one is going to undo the damage that has been done to Jimin. The brainless have dragged Jimin, called him vile things, threatened him and his family, changed the way Jimin interacts with the fans, changed Jimin.

Changed Jimin.

All because of a ship that was debunked by Tae but then promoted by Tae and promoted and promoted until everyone could predict his next move.

What is this, really?

We can trend hashtags and demand protection for our artists but the damage comes from the people inside.

The damage keeps getting bigger because nothing is ever confirmed completely so the offending party still gets the best of all the worlds and the brainless who really are like vermin will continue turning others into little vermin because every little nook of the fandom has those hateful vile people.

Even with a "get out of your imagination" and part of that ship sailing with a woman, they are still actively believing and are as alive as ever.

Writhing and growing because of the combination of delusion with hate. Some are gone but there are plenty left.

And why wouldn't they be if they will still be fed with crumbs. Just as they have been all this time.

Sure, Jimin can be set free. But who undoes the damage?

#jikook #kookmin #jimin #vermin

[seoul-bros]

Han So-Hee in her own words.

I started writing this when I heard that Han So-Hee was rumoured to appear in Jungkook's upcoming MV for Seven. I love to explore the intersections between the world of kdrama/kfilm (which I have followed for some considerable time) with the world of music and BTS (which is a much newer love).

I haven't seen her in many roles but what I have seen convinces me she is someone who is working on her craft and constantly looking for ways to improve and deliver more for her audience.

After seeing her first in a supporting role in Abyss (2019), I've seen her with Song Kang in Nevertheless (2021) where she plays a sculpture student in a much more Bohemian world than we generally see in kdramas and then in My Name (2021) where she played a revenge seeking bad ass. She had to do a lot of physical training for the part and said that it was a habit that stayed with her.

"If I get hooked on something, I’m the type to do it no matter what anyone around me says. That’s one of the things I like about myself."

She isn't your average Korean actress. When she published photos of herself with tattoos she received a lot of public criticism in Korea but she has a clear philosophy to life which she is determined to stick to.

"I want to live youthfully while wearing, eating, and expressing what I like. As long as I don’t stray away from what’s ethical and moral, I want to live while expressing myself freely. Instead of being passive, I hope others also find their own spark and color to shine."

She loves and respects other women.

"There are so many cool unnis. I think people who live their life doing what they want are cool. ..........., since you only live one life, I want people to live while doing what they want. These days, I think people like that are the coolest."

She is serious about the people in her life and she is ready to express her love and support publicly. She is close to Song Hye Kyo and they often post for each other on Instagram. When Song Hye Kyo won the Baeksang Arts Best Actress Award for The Glory this year she was quick to post her congratulations on Instagram.

The two were set to star in the The Price of Confession together, that project seems to have been shelved but their relationship is still going strong. Song Hye Kyo recently sent a coffee truck to the set of Han So Hee's latest project Gyeongseong Creature.

Isn't it nice to see women supporting each other perhaps certain parts of the fandom could take a lesson from that.

I've seen people online compare Han So-Hee to Jungkook and having read her words, I don't think they are wrong. Both are unconventional individuals living in a strictly conformist society. Both are proud of what they call their stubbornness which I actually think is more about their being determined to live an authentic life on their own terms. Both seek to express publicly the love and support they have for the important people in their life. As such I think she is a good choice as a co-star for this music video.

It won't be her first time appearing in a Kpop MV. She appeared in SHINee's video for 'Tell me what to do' in 2016......

.....and to be honest if she is appearing in JK's video I hope he gives her more to do. It seems such a waste of a good actress to have her just strike a pose.

Quotes taken from Allure Magazine Interview as reported online.

Post Date: 04/07/2023

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #seven #days a week #han so hee #my name #nevertheless #SHINee #tell me what to do #song hye kyo #The Glory

[andy-wm]

The 3D Teaser: the first four seconds.

Some people never read the prologue of a novel. And that's okay.

It's not vital. It often plays no part in the events that will unfold in the book, and you can skip it knowing you will still enjoy the story. But what it does ... is it gives context to the narrative you are about to read. It could (and usually does) change your prespective on the events in the book. It gives you insight.

And that's what the first four secods of this teaser is.

It's the prologue.

This is where it starts...

Jungkook, in white, ascends the stairs.

The fact that the MV opens with this scene means it's important. Not just for the structure of the story, but for impact. For our experience.

Why the stairs?

Firstly, we've seen the use of stairs in BTS narratives so many times... in the intro VCRs for concerts, for photoshoots, for choreo. It’s a recognised part of BTS's visual storytelling.

So this is very significant, taking that same visual cue and using it for one individual, in a way that clearly echoes of so many BTS photoshoots and videos. It ties JK to BTS through this familiar - almost ceremonial - ascension of the stairs - even down to the measured pace of his steps.

The aesthetic is also very familiar. Styling artists in a single colour right down to their shoes is a hallmark of K-Pop - and BTS,

The blue and white palette in the opening scene is very clearly reminiscent of Yet To Come. Even the style of outfit is the same - loose fitting off-white jacket and trousers... and that's no accident. This insert feels like a reminder that he remains part of the group, and that he (and his solo work) is intrinsically linked to BTS.

It ALSO says 'this where I left off... This is my best is yet to come'. It's a link from the past to the present.

This is his story.

Beyond the BTS link, stairs physically transport you... whether ascending or descending, moving towards a destination or moving away, stairs move you in three dimensions.

Clever, right?

Here's the most import part of this four second prologue:

BTS usually descends the stairs coming towards us physically and metaphorically. In this case JK is climbing OUT of the picture. He's moving away, BEYOND the BTS framework and into a different space.

Its not insignificant that we cannot see what's at the top of those stairs. Where do they lead? How far do they go up?

Unknown.

We don't know if he can see what new plane or platform he's going to be on either.

But he's walking confidently and at a measured pace. He's not running recklessly and he's also not tentative. He is (as expected) sure of himself and his direction.

And it may look like he's walking away from us but he can go steadily forward because he knows,

He’s got ARMY right behind him when he says so.

Are you crying yet?

I am.

But it's ok, because there's one more important thing to remember.

Those stairs? They're not going to disappear.

I am absolutely confident that he will be coming back the exact same way he left. Probably with that trademark Jungkook swagger (maybe with a giggle, maybe with a tear or two, maybe with the blisteringly hot reentry of a space shuttle. Who knows.)

What we DO know is that he will be coming back down those stairs before 2025.

All WE can do, is be behind him when he asks us to.

💜

Oh, one last thing... If he smashes that hydrant and the MV turns into a wet tshirt competition again, please send flowers to my husband because I will expire.

(and MY god I NEED those shoes!!!!!)

#jeon jungguk #jungkook #전정국 #jungkook 3d #jungkook ft. jack harlow #3d single #3d Jungkook

[goldenhickeysandramen]

Wanted

These last few months we have been definitely spoiled... 

From the 1st of February, until the end of April, we've had 15 vlives from Jungkook and 8 vlives from Jimin. In total 23 vlives in 3 months. That's an average of almost 8 vlives per month. LOL

(I know, I know.. some of the JK’s vlives are in the same day... but all together have more than 3 hours total length... that's equivalent to several vlives of the rest of the members. ;))

Now it seems like a dream... 

We are half way through May and....

Let's see…

My positive side is that these two are finally aligned and both working hard. We don't know what Jimin is up to, but I'm optimistic that more music is coming. And of course, JK is totally into JJK1.

(my negative side keeps thinking about that last post of JK asking his stalker to shove the food up her ass. I hope he comes back soon, with his beautiful ponytail and the whole threat thing will be buried)

Before February I used to grieve thinking that there was nothing in the pipeline that would bring jikook back together in content.

After the last few months, I think I've learned that there are always plot twists, unexpected surprises, subtle gifts to their fans….

They know we're here, and while they're still with us, they'll surely come back from time to time.

There are a few months left to enjoy many things. I would advise everyone to try to live this in the best way possible.

Talking to a friend, I told her that BTS will keep putting their fans first, at least until this chapter is over.

Not for nothing Suga himself, who writes challenging lyrics and drinks on stage, and smokes in his MVs (to reflect the reality of his generation/age, not to set an example of anything), just recently said in an interview that they are all like "real brothers" and have been living these last 10 years together LOL…. any curious fans will know that in 2018, when they had some issues, many of them moved out to live on their own.

I mean, we're living, in my opinion, a sort of Chapter 1.5, with them discovering new facets of their independence (I loved NJ's interview for Vogue, and how he acknowledges the limited or isolated life they've lived until last year), but without crossing too many boundaries (and especially not changing too much certaing OT7 dynamics)

Couple this with the lack of ot7 content, this might not be the best of the chapters, imo. Not so for jikook, at least in our eyes. We are certainly far from the golden age of 2019.

But it is what it is… and as I said, better to enjoy it, not think too much about the dark parts of this fandom. Let's learn to respect each one of them and who they hang out with or don't hang out with. What they want to show us or what they want to keep to themselves. We are not in their shoes...

..and wait for whatever, because whatever will come… as Letter came.

#jikook #kookmin #jikook kookmin #mingguk #jikook kookmin jinkook jiminshiii jk #mingukkie #jimin and jungkook #Youtube

[uhgood-girl]

Do you think Jungkook of the past was someone who wanted to become Jimin’s equal in every way and then some? Perhaps a man that he imagines Jimin might lust after? A bit dangerous, with thick muscles, yet killer on the dance floor? A man every bit as dedicated to his craft as Jimin is? To find that hunger for the stage, for improvement, not wanting to settle for status quo and this album is his portfolio of dance styles, working towards the dream of becoming partners, co-choreographers with Jimin and J-hope, possibly Taehung at some point in Chapter 3? For years I have watched them behind the scenes communicating on how best to approach the MV camera angle, improvising, capturing the important details of the choreography and rehearsing while adjusting to abilities and stride and I think how valuable their combined experiences are to the industry, not solely K- pop, THE worldwide industry. Will they still tour and make music as BTS and individually? I believe they will. But is that fulfilling enough for these talented artists, composers, producers, choreographers who have been running in bare feet since the beginning? I wonder.,,

i feel the need to start my answer at the end of your question, which i really love, by the way. it's actually my first official one on this site, thank you for sending it. 💜 however, i apologize now for the can of worms you cracked open, you basically just gave mcdonalds sprite to a loquacious victorian child lol.

but back to the end - fulfillment is an interesting concept, isnt it? this idea that everything you've ever worked towards will hopefully lead to some sort of innate feeling of satisfaction eventually, a dream realized, a list of ambitions played out. is it even possible, really, truly? especially when it comes to being a creative or artist of any sort, bonus points if it's how you make your living. being a professional creative is a bit oxymoronic imo and i say that as someone who does art as their day job. getting paid to bleed your ideas really adds an extra layer of complexity around the whole process.

because i would already equate finding personal fulfillment through art like trying to cling to sand. you can grab huge handfuls of it, maybe pack it with water, even shape it to your desire; you can for sure slow the whole process down long enough to enjoy it but at some point it will slip from your grasp and you will have to reach for more. you become the sisyphus of sand castles, forever betrayed by a strong breeze or a crashing wave or the simple design flaw of your own hands not meant to cradle something so small for too long.

fulfillment through art is fleeting because a true desire to create doesn't have a finish line. (burnout and death aside) i think most artists even when they create their magnum opus (if they're lucky), step back, bask in it for a bit and then immediately feel the ever present creep of what will i do next? can i top this? and when you do it as a career, your boss and/or audience (who is a boss of sorts in itself) walks up next to you and goes yeah! what's next? how are you going to top that? so the snake eats it's own tail ad infinitum.

but i do believe bts to be genuine artists in this sense, ready to chase that fever dream their whole lives because that's the real fulfillment, if any, of it all. just to continue to do it, in any shape, fashion, or form for as long as you can stand it. and i think all people are capable of art (i hope it's clear when i say art i'm encompassing the entire medium, music obviously included) and creativity and i would encourage any and everyone to pursue it, it's definitely worth it, but the desire around it doesn't affect everyone the same. you don't run bare foot through a dark tunnel you can't see the light at the end of unless you feel you have no choice. unless you are compelled.

i think the great news here is that the light is visible now. all of their blood, sweat, and tears (manhi, manhi, manhi) is paying dividends these days plus interest but even beyond the recognition and money, they have the buoyancy of creative freedom. overall, it's something i still think they're trying on and exploring, getting used to the feel of, but i also think all of the solo projects so far have been an incredible show of confidence towards taking risks and i love that for them so much. i love that they feel safe enough at this stage to pursue whatever they want, criticism from the peanut gallery be damned. i'm so excited to see what they will do in chapter 3 after having all of this under their belts. i agree that their combined experience is utterly invaluable.

but about jikook - can you imagine having the park jimin in your life? tbh i could give a rant similar to this about all of the members, but even then, i agree with my bias in that there's just something about jimin in particular that pulls your heartstrings. he's just good in a way that is hard to come by, in a way that seems to transcend his being a celebrity even, something that brings out the worst in so many far too often. and i think wanting to be worthy of him, to try and be his equal would be near subconscious for how naturally i imagine the people in his orbit would be persuaded. and because god knows you aren't sticking around if he finds you wanting. 👀

now imagine all that pjm goodness focused on you, singled out, romantic in flavor and during the height of puberty, no less? i think we and jk are lucky that jk is jk and has never met a challenge he couldn't face head on lol

however, i will raise you one better and say that while i'm sure jimin's type has definitely influenced the jk we see today, i think jimin's type would have been whatever jk grew into. because that's one of the things i've loved most about watching them evolve over the years, how they've done it together. if jimin's overwhelming goodness and exacting nature helped pull the very best out of jungkook, i think vice versa, jk's unconditional support and willingness to both call him on his bullshit (i'm thinking of the dieting incident in particular rn) but still love him through all of his stages has allowed jimin to flourish.

i've said it before, but the natural dichotomy of their personalities and ability to fill in where the other potentially lacks is so special. our sun and moon couple for real. but even in a non-romantic light, to find someone who fits you in such a way is genuinely rare. (the fact that bts as a whole are who they are and have each other is just so *clenches fist* ugh)

i honestly can't wait to see what heights they continue to race each other to.

#jikook #kookmin #uhgood-ask #in this essay i

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

No one can dance as smooth as jimin. No matter if the choreography is hard or simple he makes it look unique and interesting. I can watch him dancing for hours and still won't get bored.

Jimin (and Spring Day lol) was the reason I really got interested in BTS. I don't think I would've gotten into the group at all if he hadn't caught my attention the way he did. And one of the first things I noticed about Jimin and BTS as a whole, was their choreos. I honestly spent more time watching their dance practices and stage performances on repeat, than I did watching any other type of content. I was literally obsessed with their performances.

They all lost a lot of quality to their performances, tho. Both the group as a whole and each one of them. It never would've crossed my mind that some years later I would actually think of Jungkook as a bad dancer and as unimpressive as Taehyung, or as their group performances as lackluster. But here we are (we've been here since 2021).

The only one who didn't lose quality for me, is Jimin. I know he's changed and there's some missing energy that was there before the pandemic, but he was so hardworking even on simple choreos like butter and PTD. Going by FACE tho, I also think he's not really interested in doing "idol" type of dance, and he's been striving for something more complex and nuanced. I personally loved that about smf2 and like crazy. And I think the best part for me, besides his talent, is that he never gets boring. I'd watched smf2 dance practice and MV more than ten times and I was still noticing new things about it. I still don't fully grasp all nuances and ambiguity in like crazy. And I'm just talking about the choreography and his dancing. Like, this is not even taking into account the lyrics or song itself.

Jimin still embodies everything I used to love BTS the group for; dedication, grit, firm convictions, hardwork, sincerity and sensibility. And pure raw talent. No gimmicks or faking.

He really is unique. When you think of the kpop industry and how it's literally a machine mass producing the same type of songs, and choreos, and how they want everybody looking, dancing, singing, and acting the same way, Jimin has managed to set himself out for having a personal, irreplicable dance style and actually excelling at it.

[taekooktimeline]

August 5, 2023 -

Jungkook goes live! Fans ask him to play Taehyung’s “Winter Bear.”

Timestamp 1:26:16

I highly encourage you to watch Jk as he watches it. For the first approximately fourteen seconds, he doesn’t blink, eyes fixed on his screen (when the birds fly and Tae is taking photographs).

Throughout watching the MV, Jk will sometimes stare without blinking for a spell (1:27:41-1:27:54, 1:27:58-1:28:14 are two other examples). His gaze is soft, and sometimes his mouth puckers up (the below are two instances of when his mouth softly purses). It’s really sweet to watch. He hums along before starting to toggle between humming and singing the song.

Snippets - https://twitter.com/taekookalbum/status/1687527626464964608?s=46&t=StSwHjW0_Domk_lHUFMaCg

https://twitter.com/_btsmoments_/status/1687528031257350144?s=46&t=StSwHjW0_Domk_lHUFMaCg

And here is a snippet of him not blinking for a length of time - https://twitter.com/moni_butter/status/1687531893913509888?s=46&t=StSwHjW0_Domk_lHUFMaCg

Mona shared a beautiful splice edit of Jk watching Tae’s “Winter Bear” that I would encourage people to watch - https://twitter.com/_k91230v_/status/1687536880760619008?s=46&t=StSwHjW0_Domk_lHUFMaCg

As a friendly reminder, on July 24, 2019, we got a BB of Taekook laying in bed together, watching Tae’s “Winter Bear” MV.

CTTO

Recap (please note I’m unsure if the dog is Jk’s, but at the time of writing, when two of us worked on this blog, we didn’t disclaim disagreements, so it’s left as a statement we didn’t think it was his dog. But in 2023, I can say I’m actually unsure and open to discussions) - https://www.tumblr.com/taekooktimeline2019/625211404246548480

BB - https://youtu.be/oU_OmKOZtMs

In early August 2019, Jk picks the purple paper, which is revealed to be Tae, who he must award a certificate to. He awards him the poetic and beautiful “I thought you’d be beyond my imagination but then I think again and you’re way beyond my imagination” award, for his work on “Scenery” and “Winter Bear.”

Gifting the award -

Recap (and as has been noted numerous times, utilizing clips and videos doesn’t mean endorsement of the content creator; sometimes, it’s the best I can find to show a moment) - https://www.tumblr.com/taekooktimeline2019/626871253873082368/early-august-2019

On April 9, 2020, Jimin suggests the maknae line sing “Winter Bear” for Festa 2020. No surprise, the subtitles don’t pick it up, but K ARMY said Jk said, “Ahh it’s my song!”

Recap - https://www.tumblr.com/taekooktimeline2020/640123827258589184/bts-sing-karaoke-as-part-of-festa-2020-the-maknae

August 2020, BTS film “Break the Silence” commentary.

As members watch the screen, they speculate what the next clip will be, guessing it’ll be France. To their surprise, it’s London, with solo shots of Tae. Yoongi mentions his guitar teacher was in the city at the same time, before Jk excitedly interjects in recognition that Tae filmed his “Winter Bear” MV here. He says this twice, before the song had even started playing (which I find telling), nudging Tae in his excitement. As it airs, Jk continuously praises his style, softly smiles while watching, and sings along (after, it transitions to Tae’s “Singularity” which also gets Jk excited, and has him rub Tae’s head affectionately by the end of the performance!)

Recap - https://www.tumblr.com/taekooktimeline2020/642468005010407424/august-2020-the-18th-or-a-bit-sooner

Link to Winter Bear on YT - https://youtu.be/pk7ESz6vtyA

As an aside, this has nothing to do with Taekook but I’m obsessed with Jk’s pink microwave😭

CTTO for finding and creating the above collage

#taekook #taekooktimeline #2023 #pink microwaves are precious #closeness #singing #supportive #lives #winter Bear