#been screeching like a banshee WHAT was this episode | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snackhobi · 5 years ago

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pairing: hoseok x reader / word count: 26.8k / genre: fluff, smut, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, slow burn, technically a buzzfeed unsolved AU but you don’t need to be familiar with BFU at all so dw!

summary: having hoseok as your best friend and co-host for your web series is a dream come true. the only hitch? you’re kind of in love with him, and it’s getting harder to ignore that fact, even if he doesn’t feel the same for you.

warnings: idiots being oblivious, sexually explicit content, oral (f receiving + brief mentions of m receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), body worship + praise (f receiving), a lot of soft emotions and pet names, hoseok treating reader like a pillow princess

a/n: the more I read this the less happy I am with it but after the amount of time I’ve spent on it/how long it’s gotten, I’m calling it finished (even if it’s a lot lighter on paranormal related stuff than I’d initially planned OOPS...) please feel free to let me know what you think AHH x

Jung Hoseok is a lot of things.

Jung Hoseok is: a work-friend-turned-real-friend-turned-best-friend, and one of your favourite people in the world.

Jung Hoseok is: very easily scared, the opposite of a thrillseeker, Not A Fan of big rollercoasters, or haunted houses, or anywhere that involves jump scares or loud noises or anything vaguely dangerous or threatening.

Jung Hoseok is: a man with ridiculous lung capacity who can also screech so loudly that you’re fairly certain he could shatter glass if he wanted to.

“It’s just a bat, hyung,” Jimin says, before the bat comes back round and Hoseok shrieks again.

Jung Hoseok is: clinging to you with a vice-like grip as aforementioned bat flutters above you, squeaking and trilling, and you stroke his hand in an absent, instinctual motion, trying to soothe him.

“I definitely heard footsteps as well,” Hoseok whimpers. “Why are we here?”

Why are you here? Well, because Jung Hoseok is also: your co-host for one of BigHit’s most popular series, BigHit Unsolved.

It’s funny, in a roundabout sort of way, that Hoseok’s general fear of Most Things had been the thing that had cinched him his spot. You’d never expected Unsolved to explode in the way it had, starting off as a short video series with Yoongi beside you to bounce off as you described unsolved crimes, but then Hoseok had starred opposite you and the audience had just eaten it up: the way he got spooked at real life events, the modulation of his voice when it would rise or dip in fear, the way you riffed off each other- you, calm but enthused about your topic, and Hoseok, a quivering jelly of a man when scared.

Not to mention that Hoseok is just great on screen anyway, personable and bright and charming. He makes you laugh and brings out a level of exuberance in you in a way that no one else can, makes you do ridiculous things without even trying- your interactions are good video fodder, basically, and your audience loves how your friendship comes across on the show.

And that’s another funny thing. You’d known Hoseok before Unsolved, of course, because everyone knows Hoseok, because Hoseok is wonderful, a sunshine of a man, loved by all. You, however, hadn't really spoken much to him- when you'd started at BigHit you'd been crushing on Hoseok in kind of a big way and you'd been worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him, so… you'd done the logical thing of avoiding him as much as was possible without being rude or weird. Face your problems and anxieties? In this economy? Haha, you don't think so.

Anyway. Because of this, your interactions had been pretty limited up until you’d asked him to appear in one of your videos. If anyone asked it was because you’d thought he would be a fun, one-off guest star, which was true, but the main reason was that Yoongi had cancelled because he was sick and no one else had been free when you’d been scrabbling around the office for a replacement. Despite not knowing you all too well, and despite being scared easily by true crime (“my mum watched CSI when I was a kid and it gave nightmares,” he’d told you afterwards), Hoseok had heard about your plight and was happy to replace Yoongi for the episode, and you’d found out that- despite your initial worry that you were going to make things weird- you get on really well.

Like, really well. Not just on camera, either. Before they’d started to roll, you’d been frantically making sure everything was in place, that you had all your notes, that all the pre-production was ready- and Hoseok had made you stand still, taking your hands in his, and he’d smiled at you in a way that had been so warm and comforting that all the tension had leaked out of you. After that it had just been so easy. You’d felt relaxed and the episode had come out great, and then Hoseok suggested that you grab lunch together in the cafeteria so you could get to know each other more. Of course you’d agreed- and the rest is history.

It didn’t take long for Hoseok to turn from a nice and funny colleague, to someone you actively looked for at work gatherings, to someone who you decided to ask to be your permanent co-host for the show, to someone who now has a spare key for your flat in case he ever runs out of snacks or just feels like dropping by. Which he feels like doing a lot, apparently, but you have a key for his place too, so it’s all even stevens. (You steal a lot of his face masks whenever you visit him and he never complains.)

Over time your huge crush on Hoseok has ebbed into a deep platonic love, fading and morphing into a comfortable friendship. Okay, sure, you still think he’s the most beautiful person in the universe and you’d immediately accept if he asked you to marry him and you kind of want to kiss him on the mouth sometimes (a lot of the time) or whatever, but that’s because you know how wonderful he is. It’s platonic. Not romantic. Mmhm. (Mostly.) Either way, you're completely comfortable around him despite any lingering feelings you might have, which is something you appreciate more than you can put into words.

So fast forward to now, multiple seasons into your show, and you’re more than used to Hoseok’s fear and touch. It had been startling, at the beginning, when Hoseok had grabbed onto you whenever he was afraid, but now you’re used to navigating places in the dark while Hoseok clings onto you like a particularly oversized backpack or holds your hand like a lost school child. (You’ve lost count of the minutes, nay, hours of footage that exist of Hoseok doing this, like some sort of gangly limpet, but you don’t mind.) Fans love to splice together footage comparing interactions over the seasons and it’s very obvious how wide eyed and stiff you used to go whenever Hoseok seized you, but now? This is your every day, baby.

Hoseok is still cowering behind you as the lone bat flaps above you, high up in the rafters of the old generator building you’re standing in. You and your crew and your guide are the only people at the abandoned gold mine, so Hoseok can’t have heard footsteps, other than your own- which is what you tell him.

“I think it was the building settling, Hobi,” you say. “This mining warehouse is pretty old.”

“Old and full of ghosts.” Hoseok moans. Jimin readjusts the camera and you know that, without a doubt, he’s zooming in on Hoseok’s terrified face. Namjoon’ll have some fun shots to edit later. Jimin is a very capable cameraman, and also unruffled by ghosts/loud noises/etc, but he does love to catch some interesting angles of the two of you. At least Taehyung refrains from doing that, although he does sometimes get too focused on making a shot artistic rather than capturing the abject terror on Hoseok’s face when it would be a good clip for the final video.

“Well, we don’t know that.” You pause. “Maybe we should test it with the spirit box to find out?”

Hoseok’s face twists and you can’t help but laugh.

The supernatural half of the show wouldn’t exist without Hoseok. Your fans enjoyed his eternal suffering and fear whenever anything remotely spooky was mentioned, so they'd bandied about the idea of a paranormal-themed season and you'd taken the idea on board; the juxtaposition between yourself and your co-host was all the more defined when he was banshee shrieking at some innocuous sound while you stayed calm. You’re open to the concept of the supernatural but have yet to come across any evidence that you find compelling enough to make you a believer, while Hoseok is convinced in the existence of ghosts and finds the idea terrifying.

He doesn’t like the spirit box because of this, but you don’t mind it- although you don't really like the loud static it makes when it’s scanning through radio frequencies, trying to pick up if any spirits or ghouls are trying to talk to you. (They’re not, even if Hoseok insists that the random bursts of sound it spits out are definitely coherent words and sentences, rather than a mish-mash of random rubbish that it just happens to pick from normal radio waves.)

The spirit box, of course, is about as interesting as normal: that is to say, not really at all, though you have a good laugh after you ask for any spirits to give you a name and the only response is ‘pineapple pie’, which makes you feel hungry. Hoseok lets you rummage around in his pocket for a cereal bar, which you end up munching on between shots, as Hoseok swats bugs away from your faces. He attempts to karate chop a mosquito but misses by miles and you almost choke on a mouthful of oats as he makes the world’s most incredulous face and you giggle.

“We should make pineapple pie for a video at some point,” you suggest, and Hoseok is briefly distracted from his fear- he’d given up on the bugs and has been shining his torch over your shoulder at some old generator equipment and casting warped shadows on the walls behind it, dark silhouettes that could admittedly be considered a little spooky. “I’ve never had pineapple pie before.”

“There’s a Filipino bakery near our place that sells it!” Taehyung jumps in before Hoseok can respond, turning away from where he and Jimin have been making shadow puppets on the wall with their own torches. “It’s so good, you should definitely do it.”

Hoseok hums. “Jin-hyung would probably be happy to help out,” he says. You finish the cereal bar and tuck the wrapper back into Hoseok’s pocket, making a mental note to get in touch with the Tasty team member to ask him about it. He’ll leap at the opportunity.

There’s a clattering noise somewhere far in the distance, probably rocks shifting or something, and Hoseok squeaks and crowds even closer to you, as impossible as that is with how he’s already wrapped around your back at this point, the harness for his chest-mounted camera digging into your spine. It’s a familiar sensation by this point. “Please can we get out of here now?”

“Sure,” you say indulgently, stroking Hoseok’s arm where it’s wrapped around your collarbones. “We need to drive down to the mining tunnels now anyway.”

Hoseok keeps hold of your hand as your guide drives you to your location, squeezing your fingers every time the car goes over a bump- which is pretty often on the rocky dirt track. Hoseok’s fairly touchy in general, always holding hands or hugging or kissing people, raining little pecks over their faces, and it had been Very Overwhelming when he’d first turned this attention to you. You’re not, like, not touchy, but back in season 1 you were definitely not used to spending time with someone who loves skinship as much as Hoseok does, and it had taken time for you to stop freezing up every time he casually touched or grabbed you.

It says a lot about how used you are to it now that you don’t even bat an eyelid when he wriggles into your twin bed at the hotel later, curling up around you once he’s finished his meticulous skincare routine. “Your bed is over there, Hobi,” you say, although you immediately snuggle back into him, letting him spoon you. He’s always a lot clingier after you finish filming a supernatural episode- as if you can ward off any ghosts that might have decided to hitch a ride back from wherever you’d come from.

“I know,” Hoseok replies. He hitches a leg over yours, sighing happily when you reach an arm down to rub his calves. He always sleeps better if you massage him.

“I can’t wait to get home.” You dig your fingers into a muscle and Hoseok squirms a little. You huff out a laugh. “Arizona is so hot.”

“You look cute in shorts, though,” Hoseok says. He’s been saying the same thing all day.

“You just like shorts.” He’d been wearing shorts too, pretty much matching his clothes to yours; at this point you’re starting to wonder if he looks through your luggage before he packs his own stuff, because your outfits end up being eerily similar a lot of the time. You think he finds it reassuring, maybe, when you’re somewhere unfamiliar. Or maybe it’s because Hoseok’s fashion has influenced your own over the years. You definitely own a lot more bright clothing than you used to, not to mention the matching items you’ve both purchased together anyway.

Now that you think about it, Hoseok really has been a big influence on you, huh.

He falls asleep pretty soon after, going lax and limp as his breaths deepen and he dozes off. He always falls asleep before you do, awake one second and flat out the next; you envy his ability to drop off like that, usually taking a lot longer yourself, but you do find it good that he’s able to sleep so quickly despite his earlier fear. He always crashes at yours after you finish filming an episode when you’re home, too, otherwise he says he’s up all night with the fear- this is all part and parcel of Hoseok being your co-host and partner on the show, and honestly, you don’t mind it at all.

So you're used to this. When Hoseok makes a little noise in his sleep and starts shifting behind you, you lift his hand to your mouth and gently kiss his knuckles, running your thumb down his wrist- he settles immediately, going lax again. You'll chase away any nightmares with soft touches, shuffling around in his grip and holding him tight if you need to, before eventually drifting off yourself, safe and warm in the circle of his arms.

Even though you usually fall asleep after Hoseok, one thing you have over him is the fact you’re a morning person and find it a lot easier to get up with the sun. Despite your late night, you’re awake moments before your phone alarm starts to ring, turning it off before it can rouse Hoseok out of his sleep. When you slide out of the bed he stirs a little, instinctively reaching out for you in his sleep, and you carefully put a pillow in his arms so he can hold onto that instead; he settles down once he has the pillow hugged to his chest, and you take a moment to look at him fondly and gently kiss his forehead before you start to get ready for the day.

You’re pretty much done by the time Hoseok sits up at the sound of his own alarm, blinking blearily in your direction as you turn it off for him. He’s still holding onto the pillow as he sits up.

“Morning, honey,” you chirp. “You want coffee?”

Hoseok stares at you for a second, eyes squinting as he tries to wake up fully. “Morning,” he replies, voice hoarse from sleep, and you smile. “Please.”

When you’d first found out that Hoseok wasn’t a morning person, you’d honestly been gobsmacked. He’s just so bright and energetic that you figured he rolled out of bed like that- it just makes sense- but it actually takes him a surprisingly long time to get fully up to speed with his normal self. He’s a little slower, a little softer, draping himself over your back as you fiddle with the room's coffee machine to try and get some caffeine into him.

“We can always get some more at the airport,” you say conversationally, and Hoseok hums quietly into your hair before dropping a kiss there. “It’s a shame we don’t have time to eat at the breakfast buffet.”

Despite his morning slowness, he’s still ready on time; he’s always punctual, is your Hoseok. You make up for missing breakfast at the hotel by purchasing tons of snacks for the flight to Pennsylvania, munching a pre-wrapped croissant as you read off your phone while Jimin dozes next to you, his head resting against the window. You’re sandwiched between him and Hoseok, who has the aisle seat- he cranes his head at your pastry and you tilt it against his lips so he can take a bite. You end up with a lapful of crumbs, but that’s okay.

“So where are we off to next?” Hoseok asks once he’s done chewing, peering at your phone screen. Across the aisle from you, Taehyung very loudly unwraps a pain au chocolat, much to the irritation of the woman next to him.

“We’re going to an old prison,” you say, and Hoseok meeps. “A penitentiary, to be exact.”

Taehyung shoves the pain au chocolat into his mouth whole so he has his hands free, fumbling for his phone as he starts to film how the colour drains from Hoseok’s face as you give him a brief synopsis of the prison and other places you’ll be going to while in Pennsylvania. This isn’t even for Unsolved; Taehyung just likes to have video evidence and receipts for everything, if his camera reel is anything to go by. Even though you’re vague with your descriptions- you like Hoseok’s reaction on camera to be as unscripted and natural as it can possibly be, when you finally turn up at your locations and then set up so that you can talk about it- once you’re finished, Hoseok is curled up against you, hiding his face in your neck.

“Why can’t we go somewhere nice for once?” He whines, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Budget doesn’t cover it, that’s why we have to sleep at haunted hotels. They’re cheaper.” Hoseok meeps again, and you relent, lifting your hand to cup the back of his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t abandon you,” you say, stroking his hair as you use your free hand to clumsily scroll through your phone, double checking the details of your planned trip.

“I know.” Hoseok is uncharacteristically quiet against your collarbones. Taehyung gives up filming and rips into another pain au chocolat packet, smiling guiltily at his seat neighbour when she tuts at him. “You never do.”

Despite Hoseok’s fear of a lot of things related to the show, and the fact he jumps and screams at pretty much everything, he’s never asked to bow out or avoid doing something. He even agrees to go into areas alone when the two of you try to ‘make contact’ with spirits, even though he’s obviously terrified- but each and every time before you part, you promise that you’re not going anywhere and you’ll be waiting right outside for him. You would never abandon Hoseok (even though ghosts probably aren’t real and he has nothing to worry about), and he knows that, and takes strength from it. It warms you.

He keeps his head nestled against your neck for a beat longer, and then smacks a loud kiss against your skin, which makes you squeal and slap him away while he laughs.

As fun as it is to jet around the country- especially with Hoseok and the other guys- it's also exhausting, and there’s always something nice about coming home. Even though the increased budget that you’ve been allocated as the show’s been growing in popularity means that you can stay at nicer hotels now, your own bed is still the most comfortable place in the world. (Well, tied with Hoseok’s bed, thinking about it. The two are basically interchangeable at this point anyway, if you consider how often Hoseok ends up sleeping at your apartment and squirreling his way under your blankets as you’re trying to sleep.)

On the other hand, though, in spite of a return to your regular creature comforts, coming home still involves work: there are Q&As to be filmed, footage to edit, later episodes to plan, research to be done. As the original progenitor of Unsolved you take the brunt of the last two parts; Hoseok is the one who reacts to the facts you throw out, he’s not the one who investigates the different things you talk about on the show, but he’s always there to support you and talk to you whenever you need it.

(Your audience knows Hoseok as someone who is cute and bright and cheerful, but he’s also quietly thoughtful and surprisingly serious when he has to be. That’s the side of him that you get to see whenever you stay late at the office, your desk lamp the only one left on in the room, hunched over your keyboard as you trawl through conspiracy threads in the deep bowels of the internet that are discussing who D.B. Cooper is. You love loud Hoseok, of course, but you appreciate this hushed part of him, too- the way he'll deliver you a hot chocolate with a kiss to your forehead before quietly sitting beside you and waiting for you to finish so he can take you home.)

Anyway. Coming home means coming back to the office, means putting in shifts at BigHit headquarters, etc, etc, all that jazz, so here you are, sitting on Hoseok’s lap and scrolling through your tablet as he does something of his own on his PC. The first time this had happened, it had raised eyebrows- not because it was considered inappropriate or anything, as BigHit is the kind of place where people can make out in hallways to ‘test the longevity of this 24 hour lipstick’ for a video and no one bats an eyelash, but because up until this point, you’d been renowned for pretty much being glued to your desk while working. But you like Hoseok and his energy, even when he’s not doing anything, and his lap is comfortable, even if he doesn’t exactly have the world’s thickest thighs. You work better when you’re around him.

You’re scrolling through Instagram comments for questions to answer in this week’s Q&A episode when someone clears their throat. Both you and Hoseok look up in tandem to find Seokjin standing there, looking decidedly more grey-haired than he had the last time you’d seen him. He pulls it off effortlessly, of course.

“What’s up, silver fox?” You let your tablet droop into your lap as Hoseok takes his hands off his mouse and keyboard and secures them around your waist instead, so you don’t slide off his legs. His hands are warm where they splay across your stomach and you can feel the bumps and texture of his bracelets through the material of your shirt. “Liking the new look, by the way.”

“You look really good, Jin-hyung,” Hoseok says from over your shoulder, and you nod in agreement.

“I know.” Jin sounds flippant but he seems pleased. He doesn’t say anything more than that, though, and just looks at the two of you expectantly. You both blink back at him.

“So… did you come over just to be complimented, or?” You slowly start to lift your tablet, acting as if you’re about to start reading off your screen again. “Were the thirsty comments on your latest video not enough for you today?”

Jin raises an eyebrow as he pretends to inspect his nails. “No, no, there were plenty of comments, as always,” he says loftily. Unsurprising, considering his unofficial(/basically official) title of Most Handsome Face in the office as well as the leagues of fans he has. He lets his hand drop as he quickly gives up pretending to be aloof. “So when are you planning to fit making pineapple pie into your schedule?”

“Oh!” Hoseok squeezes you in his excitement and you wiggle a little in his lap. “I almost forgot about that! Did Tae mention it to you?”

“Jimin too. They burst into the kitchen while I was filming and they were both holding a piece of Filipino pineapple pie aloft like they were wielding Excalibur, so, yes, you can say that it was mentioned,” Jin says, and you can’t help but wince. Being interrupted while filming is one thing, but the Tasty studio can be hazardous on top of that (y’know, what with the knives and fire and stuff), so you can only hope that Jin wasn’t using a mandolin or something when they had appeared.

“Oof.” You wiggle your hips again and Hoseok immediately catches your drift, turning his chair so the two of you are facing Jin fully rather than having to turn your heads to look at him. Jin makes a weird expression, something you can’t put a name to, but it slips away too fast for you to catch properly- maybe he just had a sudden chill or something, who knows. “Sorry about them. How about I email you our filming schedule and you can see when you’re free as well? We were going to film a 70th episode retrospective soon and the pineapple pie video might be a nice sort of bonus on top of that.”

Jin agrees easily. You use your tablet to open the Google Calendar that you have with Hoseok, which makes Jin pause when he notices. “You share a GCal?”

“Duh?” You flick a look at Jin through your lashes. You and Hoseok have GCal where you input your work schedules to avoid potential clashes when you need to film together, but you also put in other plans the two of you have outside of work, if it’s ever necessary. “Why wouldn’t we? It makes it easier when we need to plan things for Unsolved.”

“Uh-huh.” Jin sounds sceptical, but you decide not to address it. You miss the look he gives Hoseok as you scroll through your calendar, the two men having a silent exchange as you start to draft an email. Somewhere across the office you hear Yoongi shout out an expletive and two sets of cackling laughter that sound suspiciously like Taehyung and Jungkook; you and Hoseok turn at the sound, but you don’t spot anything from where you’re sat. “Alright, I think that’s my cue to leave,” Jin says, and promptly dips before he gets dragged into whatever’s going on.

Whatever shenanigans Jungkook and Taehyung have gotten up to seem to be pinpointed to one area, so you avoid any fall out, and Hoseok eventually excuses himself to go to the toilet. You take over his chair while he’s gone. Asides from yourself, both computers at this desk are entirely abandoned- Yoongi is still absent, nowhere to be seen- and you’re tapping away at your tablet when all of a sudden you have a camera shoved in your face.

For once it’s not Jimin or Taehyung or Jungkook, and instead when you look up you see Irene and Seulgi, the latter girl beaming at you while Irene holds the camera. Seulgi says your name and points at you with a perfectly manicured nail, and you blink at her, completely caught off guard. Irene zooms in on your bewildered expression.

“Um, hey guys,” you say. “What’s up? Need me for something?”

“We wanted to ask if you wanted to guest star in the next Ladylike video!” Seulgi chirps brightly, and you’re immediately on guard. While the offer seems innocent enough on the surface you can’t help but wonder if the next video is one of their wilder ones (you don’t care if the underwear is silver-infused and apparently wicks away smell and moisture, you flat out refuse to wear the same panties for a whole week). Fortunately your fears are assuaged when Seulgi seems to read your mind and answers your question before you have the chance to ask it. “We’re trying to recreate elaborate Instagram makeup looks with dollar store makeup.”

Irene giggles behind the camera when you visibly relax. “I’m in, that sounds fun,” you say, and both girls seem inordinately pleased. “Um, when are you planning to shoot it?”

“Tomorrow! It won’t take long, we promise,” Seulgi says. “You just need to be free for filming, we’ll do all the editing and stuff.”

You finalise the exact time you need to be available by and by the time Hoseok comes back from the toilet both girls have just gone. You stand up so that he can reclaim his seat, eyes glued to your tablet as you open up your Google Calendar so you can put the Ladylike video filming in, but you’re interrupted when Hoseok grabs you. You squeal in surprise when he tugs you back down rather than letting you sit down yourself, tablet getting sandwiched between the two of you as you end up straddling him in a desperate attempt to catch your balance- but before you can resituate yourself he starts to tickle you and you end up laughing uproariously into his face.

“Cute, cute, my Y/n is so cute,” he sing-songs, and you continue to laugh as you try to bat his hands away.

“Stop, oh my God, Hobi!” There are tears of laughter in the corners of your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to get away from his hands but being prevented from doing so by the desk at your back; you’re trapped between it and Hoseok, entirely at his mercy as the two of you giggle at each other.

“You realise other people work here, right?”

Yoongi has finally reappeared. He sounds disgruntled, but you put it down to the fact he has KITTY AVAILABLE FOR ADOPTION and a phone number scrawled across his face in what appears to be permanent marker, rather than at the fact that you and Hoseok are making noise. As Hoseok’s deskmate he’s used to this sort of behaviour by now.

“Hey hyung,” Hoseok says, shameless as his fingers continue to dance up and down your sides, although the touches are light enough now that you can turn your attention away from giggling to appreciate Yoongi’s new look. “Did you have a good nap?”

“A cat nap,” you say, and then giggle at the unimpressed look Yoongi throws your way- it’s hard to find him scary with the multi-coloured letters scribbled over his face.

He grunts as he sits down. “I’ll kill those kids,” he says, but there’s no real heat behind his words, and he slumps into his chair with a resigned sigh. “I kept scrubbing at my face but this shit won’t come off.”

You exchange a look with Hoseok, the two of you thinking about the hand sanitiser you keep in your handbag- the alcoholic gel would probably lift the ink off Yoongi’s face, but neither of you offer up this information. “I’m sure it’ll come off by tomorrow,” you say, and Yoongi makes a hopeful noise at the back of this throat. "Any particular reason why you've decided to act as a walking billboard for abandoned cats?"

"Thing 1 and Thing 2 said they were raising awareness for a local cat shelter and asked if I wanted to help. I said yes." Yoongi sounds rueful.

"I feel very aware of it, hyung, so I'd say they did a good job." Hoseok laughs when Yoongi just flips him off.

Hoseok’s hands have gone still by this point. It’s not until Yoongi starts to tap at his keyboard that you remember the position you’re in, straddling Hoseok in his chair, your hands on his shoulders and his hands on your waist as you lean back against his desk- but as questionable and potentially incriminating as this entire situation seems out of context, literally no one is batting an eyelid. People are used to seeing this sort of thing from you two, both comfortable and not awkward with each other at all.

Hoseok's hands are warm and steady where they wrap around your waist. You're struck again by how large they feel- supportive, as always, when he holds you.

"Mind letting me go, cowboy?" You say. "I should go back to my desk to get some work done."

"You're more of a cowboy in this situation," Hoseok says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Seeing as you're the one that's doing the riding."

"Good lord," Yoongi mutters.

You laugh at the expression on his face before Hoseok wheels you both away from the desk so that you have room to swing your legs off him. "That's dirty, Hobi," you say, but it's said with a smile and wink.

After you've disappeared, waving at the two men, Yoongi raises an eyebrow at Hoseok. "I know you two are basically married at this point, but can you try and rein in the flirting when I'm trying to work?"

"We weren't flirting," Hoseok protests. Yoongi looks unconvinced, his other eyebrow rising to match the first, and just shakes his head before he resumes Googling ways to get the permanent marker off his face.

Irene’s touch is light as she puts the makeup onto your face, surveying her work critically as she does.

“Alright, that’s the foundation done,” she says, once everything seems to have passed whatever rigorous criteria she has. “So we're onto the concealer next.”

There’s something soothing about having someone else do your makeup. Not to mention that you don’t have to worry at all about the production of the video- with your usual projects, your level of investment means that there’s always something to think about, but right now all you have to do is sit there and look pretty. You do listen and react whenever Irene shows you the products and so on, but otherwise, you are literally just sitting there and letting the other woman put stuff on your face; you can relax and unwind and let her take the lead.

Irene has just finished blending the concealer under your eyes when your phone vibrates in your pocket. While she's rummaging for the next product- setting powder- you quickly check your phone to see if it's anything important. It's Hoseok, asking where you are, because he has a coffee and Danish pastry for you and he can't find you; you realise then that you never put the Ladylike video filming into your calendar, distracted by Hoseok grabbing you, and today you'd just disappeared without telling him where you were going. Oops.

You quickly shoot him a reply before Irene starts to brush the powder across your face and you're both surprised at how well it sets. "Your skin is so nice," Irene says with a smile, sweeping the brush over your cheeks. You try not to laugh when the bristles tickles your face, flattered at her comment.

She's just finished doing your brows when you hear the studio door open and you catch sight of Hoseok. He's staying off camera next to Wendy so he doesn't get in the shot, quiet and unobtrusive, but you can't help but perk up when you see him. Although you stay silent so that it doesn’t interrupt the filming, Irene notices how you brighten and pauses in her motions to look over where Hoseok is standing.

"Hi, Hoseok." Much to your surprise, despite the fact that the cameras are rolling, Irene still greets Hoseok. You thought she'd make him wait until you were done. "You're here for Y/n, I presume?"

"I have a coffee for her," Hoseok says, a little sheepish, holding up an iced macchiato and a paper bag that's got a small grease stain spreading on it, a tantalising glimpse of the deliciousness inside. "I just came to drop it off?"

"I don't deserve you, Hobi," you say, beaming, and he smiles back at you.

Irene gestures for Hoseok to come into the frame. There’s a brief moment where you and Hoseok exchange a small, surprised look- Irene is rummaging through eyeshadow palettes and seems like she’s still going through with the video even though Hoseok is about to walk on set- but he acquiesces and steps into the shot. Irene points at the Instagram photo she has open on her iPad, which is propped on the table so she can use it for reference and zoom in if necessary. “We’re doing this look with dollar store products."

“Woah,” Hoseok says, leaning down to peer at the picture, and he sounds suitably awed. “That’s really nice. You’ve chosen one with all of Y/n’s favourite colours.”

“It’s cute, right?” You’re so excited to see the final product, even if it ends up not looking as good as what you can see on the screen, considering the cheapness of the makeup that Irene is using.

“Not as cute as you,” Hoseok says, and you blow him a kiss before looking at the iced macchiato in his hands meaningfully.

“Coffee, coffee?” You sound hopeful but Irene tuts.

“You’ll need to keep your eyes shut while I do your eyeshadow,” she says.

Before you can begin to feel disappointed, Hoseok comes to the rescue. “Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you.”

And so that’s how you end up with Hoseok holding the straw of your iced coffee up to your lips while Irene applies the different shades and shimmers to your eyelids, your eyes shut as she does so; Hoseok makes appropriate ooh-ing noises, bowled over by how she manages to blend the cheap eyeshadows before doing a cut crease- you have to keep your eyes shut the whole time, letting the concealer dry on your lids so that it doesn’t smudge, gauging how it looks based on Hoseok's reactions.

Every so often Hoseok will make a small noise and then you’ll feel the straw press up against your lips, and you’ll take a sip of your drink while Irene is switching colours or brushes; you feel thoroughly pampered today and you’re enjoying it immensely. She’s been describing the different products and their quality to the camera throughout the whole video, but now that Hoseok’s there, he responds to what she’s saying, making her giggle with how enthusiastic he is despite not recognising all the terminology she’s using. Although your eyes are shut you can't help but smile: that's your Hoseok, always lightening the atmosphere and making people laugh.

“Alright, you can open your eyes,” Irene says after what feels like a lifetime. The liquid eyeliner has dried by the time your eyes flutter open, the stark blackness against the expertly blended eyeshadows the first thing you notice when you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Woah, Irene! This is incredible!" You turn your head from side to side, taking in how different your eyes look after the ministrations of Irene's skilled hands. "Hobi, look at those wings! I wish I could get mine that even.” You don’t often wear liquid liner and when you do it takes you eons to get them to match, making each side bigger as you try to match the other- most of the time you just give up.

“You do look incredible,” Hoseok agrees. You look away from the mirror to smile brightly at him and then take another drink of coffee when he lifts it back up to your lips; the straw makes loud slurping noises as you reach the bottom of the cup and you end up sucking up more air than liquid, much to your disappointment. He chuckles at the look on your face but then coos when you pout.

“I’m not done just yet, you know,” Irene says, unperturbed by your interactions. You wonder how this footage is going to turn out after the edit. “We still have lips and cheeks to do.”

Despite the fact your coffee is finished, Hoseok still remains next to you and watches Irene work. She lines your lips and then paints them a pleasant nude colour, before going in with an extra touch to your contour, and blush, and highlight (you’re genuinely in awe at the selection of makeup you can apparently get for a dollar each). There are so many steps involved in the execution of this look and you wonder how long it would take you to try and do this yourself, before deciding there aren’t enough hours in the day, even if Irene makes it look easy, finishing your face with a flourish.

“Alright, done!”

You pick the mirror up to tilt your head at different angles. You catch the way the highlight shimmers on your cheekbones and cupid’s bow, the way your eyes look after they’ve been shaded with colour and glitter, the sharpness of your brows, the fullness of your lips.

“I can’t believe this was all dollar store makeup,” you say, awestruck. “It’s so much like the photo! I look so good.”

“Irene had an already perfect canvas to work with,” Hoseok says, and you end up smiling so widely your eyes almost squeeze shut.

“Flatterer,” you say.

“You two are so cute.” Seulgi sighs wistfully from behind the cameras and Wendy muffles a quiet cough into her palm.

Irene asks for your opinions on the makeup- you, moreso on how it feels on your face, and Hoseok, if he thinks it looks close to the Instagram photo (he does, but he's clearly biased because you're involved, which he doesn't try to hide). Once the cameras have been cut and everything has been wrapped up, Irene says you can go and so you hop off your chair. Before you can get too far, though, Hoseok stops you, touching his fingers gently under your chin.

“Let me have a proper look.”

You immediately relax and let him tip your head slowly from one side to the other, eyes scanning across your makeup, which feels a lot heavier than you’d expected, but you’re still happy with how nice it is.

“Wah, so beautiful,” Hoseok says, a small smile on his face; it’s one of his softer ones, one that doesn’t show his teeth or his dimples, but rather squeezes his eyes into crescents, his gaze warm. Still blinding but in a different way.

“Irene did a really good job, didn’t she?” You say, enthused. Hoseok pauses, but then his teeth show as the smile grows.

“Yeah, she did.”

"Maybe I should get her to give me makeup lessons so I can look prettier more often." You've never been all too great at the more refined parts of makeup- blending eyeshadow or contouring, for example- but maybe you should add it to your repertoire, you muse.

Hoseok's smile dims as he becomes oddly sombre, hand shifting to cup the bottom of your chin so your face is gently cradled in his hand. "You're gorgeous all the time, makeup or not," he says. "Makeup is fun and you do look great but please don't think you need it to be pretty."

A shy smile plays at your lips. You feel bashful but you can't hide from Hoseok's gaze when he's holding onto you like this, but it wouldn’t matter even if you did. Hoseok knows you well enough to read your moods if you attempt to hide them- but because you trust him you don’t try to.

"Ahh, you're too sweet to me, Hoseok," you murmur. He always compliments you, but the thing with Hoseok is that he always means it, and although you should be used to it, it still catches you off guard every time.

"You deserve it." The soft smile has returned to his face and he lets his fingers drop away from your chin to tangle with yours to lead you out of the studio. “Now come on, you still have your pastry to eat.”

“I totally forgot about that! Oh, but I’ll probably smudge my lipstick.” Your sudden excitement about food dips instantly as you realise this. “I mean, I doubt dollar store stuff has much staying power anyway, but it’ll definitely smear onto the pastry, like, immediately.”

“I’ll cut it up into small pieces for you,” Hoseok says, and you make a noise of happiness as the door to the Ladylike studio shuts behind you both.

Seulgi and Wendy and Irene all look at each other, the two of you all but forgetting that they'd been standing there and had thus witnessed that entire exchange in excruciating detail. Wendy and Seulgi both open their mouths but before they can speak Irene holds up a hand. “I know,” she says. “Trust me. I know.”

Around the office, Jin might be renowned for his silliness, propensity towards dad jokes and loud laughter, but on set- while he’s still very much himself- he’s a professional and takes safety in the kitchen Very Seriously.

“If you damage any of my equipment with your clumsy fingers, I will grate so much parmesan down your throat that you die of cheese asphyxiation.”

“Sounds kinky,” Hoseok laughs, but then he jumps behind you when Jin brandishes a decorative pineapple at him as if he’s about to brain the other man.

“Babe, I’m not about to explain to your family that your final words were, and I quote, ‘sounds kinky’, especially if it was before Jin offed you via fermented dairy products,” you say, although you still shield Hoseok with your body- as if there was any chance you’d be able to stop Jin if he was on the warpath. His shoulders are so broad. Still, you’d fight him for Hoseok if you had to.

“My family love you, I think they’d be okay with it,” Hoseok says from behind you. Jin makes a weird expression with his face before he sets the pineapple back down onto the table next to the rest of your equipment, raising his eyebrows at something; before you can ask what’s up, you’re distracted by the sensation of Hoseok’s hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “It’s okay, Jin, Y/n and I cook together all the time. We won’t mess up.”

“Hobi’s really good at cooking,” you pipe up, and Hoseok affectionately nuzzles at the crown of your head. You cook dinner together at least once a week, trying to use different recipes each time- cooking is a great hobby because you get food at the end of it, and cooking with Hoseok is especially great because you get an excuse to break out the candles and fancy tablecloth your mother had gifted you, even if your food is something simple.

(You never thought you’d learn multiple ways to fold a napkin, but Hoseok is always so excited whenever he sees you start to crimp them into shape, so you like to mix things up for him.)

Jin’s face shifts back into that look that you’re starting to think looks like he’s eaten something that he’s not sure if he likes or not- a little disbelieving, perplexed, resigned. You never get a chance to ask why, though: Jin claps his hands and tells you to put on your aprons so you can start filming, and you eagerly pull it over your head before helping Hoseok tie his behind his back. (Jin makes the face again, but you’re too busy tying a cute bow to notice.)

Jin seems genuinely impressed when it turns out that the two of you have been telling the truth. Of course, the Tasty team member is directing you and giving instructions so it’s not as difficult as it might be otherwise, but he ends up surprisingly uninvolved with the physical part of the process; you and Hoseok hand jobs off to each other and work in tandem to prepare the dough and filling, and once the pie is in the oven you even begin to clean everything up unprompted, moving around each other with an unconscious level of ease.

Jin just ends up sitting on a stool and watching you do his ‘minion work’ although you think he just doesn’t want to get in the way. Hoseok hipchecks you gently and then giggles when you pretend to be pushed back by the strength of the motion and flop dramatically over the sink.

“How often do you two cook together?” Although the question is technically directed at the both of you, for some reason you get the feeling that Jin is aiming this more towards Hoseok, who answers him.

“Usually two or three times a week,” Hoseok says.

“Hmm. I see.” Jin looks thoughtful, and you can’t help but feel like there’s something you’re missing in this simple question and answer exchange. Hoseok has an expression on his face that you’ve never seen before- which you’d thought was impossible, because you know Hoseok inside and out, and it’s confusing. You feel surprisingly unsettled by it.

Your best friend seems like he’s trying to cut whatever tension’s in the air by turning his attention back to tidying up, but he fumbles when he goes to shut a drawer and catches his fingers. He’s barely had time to make a small ow noise before you’re there, lifting his hand and inspecting it carefully. “Stop distracting my boy, Jin, let him focus on cleaning up your messy ass kitchen,” you say.

“Excuse you, my kitchen is a temple, it’s only a mess because you’ve been in here,” Jin says primly.

“Sounds like something a messy person would say.” You would roll your eyes but they’re focused on the reddened skin of Hoseok’s fingers. They just look slightly pinched, nothing major, but still. You’re careful when you touch him. You don’t want him to hurt any further. “Are you okay, baby?”

“No.” He sniffles and his lip wobbles dramatically and you laugh. You do what you always do when Hoseok hurts himself in some small, superficial way- you lift his hand to your lips and gently kiss the fingers he’d gotten caught, inflamed skin already fading back to its usual colour, pain clearly already gone.

“There,” you declare. “All better.”

Hoseok’s expression is warm and tender as he looks at you, his fingers still cradled in yours as you look up from your touching hands, and your gazes lock. There’s a brief moment of stillness, a second that starts to crystallise into something more, and you’d swear his face had just started inching forwards when there’s suddenly an almighty clattering noise from behind you and you both jump, the moment broken.

“Oops,” Jin says blithely. You turn around to discover that all the pineapple related knick-knacks and decor on the table are now scattered on the floor around him, a tangle of paper decorations and plastic fruit that’s rolling across the room. “I seem to have slipped.”

“Weren’t you just going on about how messy we were?” You raise an eyebrow at him, but you’ve already turned away from Hoseok to squat down and help Jin tidy up, chasing down an errant pineapple. You don’t see the pointed look that Jin gives Hoseok behind your back, and when you turn around with the over-large pineapple clutched in your arms, both men seem to be acting like normal. “I’m going to pay Namjoon to keep that in the final cut so everyone can see how chaotic you are in the kitchen.”

“Joonie would never betray me like that,” Jin says with completely unearned confidence, just like he does with most things- but the sad thing is, he’s right. Namjoon is too much of a professional to keep unnecessary shots in the video, and besides, Jin seems able to get away with being outrageously chaotic because he’s so charming and pulls it off so well. If the footage of him somehow sending everything to the floor was kept in the video, people would probably love it.

Once the pie is done cooking and has finally cooled enough for Jin to cut it into triangular shapes, you’re so excited to eat it that you’re bouncing up and down on the spot a little. Hoseok is too. Jin humours your excitement with understanding- he loves to eat too- although he raises his eyebrows at the way you and Hoseok lock your arms together before you lean forward to take a bite of the pineapple pie. You let out a muffled little groan into the pastry once it finally touches your tongue, sweet tartness of the pineapple exploding across your tastebuds, pastry buttery and flakey as it melts in your mouth.

“Jin, this is so good,” you say, and Hoseok hums around a mouthful of fruit filling in agreement.

“I think your ghost was onto something,” Jin says. He’s already polished off his slice, while you and Hoseok are barely halfway through your own, disentangling your arms so you can focus on eating properly. Sometimes you wonder if Jin just unhinges his jaw and swallows things whole because you’ve never seen someone who can eat as quickly as he can. “They could see you pining.”

Your face twists in confusion. “What?”

“You know… pining… like a pineapple,” Jin says, before giggling to himself like he’s just told the world’s funniest joke. You raise your eyebrows at Hoseok, but then you take another bite of the pie and immediately forget about Jin’s cryptic nonsense.

“This is so good, isn’t it, Hobi?” You ask.

“It’s so sweet and light and delicious,” Hoseok says. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I thought we were talking about the pie, not me, Hoseok,” Jin says, and then lets out peals of squeaky laughter when you roll your eyes.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I think you can get a cream for that,” Jin continues to laugh, before you throw a paper pineapple at him.

There’s still pie left over the next day. Of course, you’ve saved slices for the rest of your crew. Jimin and Taehyung are snacking on slices of pie as they help each other set up the cameras and mics in the studio, making sure the lighting hits you and Hoseok so that you stand out against the room behind you. Today’s the day you’ve set aside to film the 70th episode, and you’re excited for the chance to do an official retrospective of the show so that you can look back at all the places you’ve been to and the things you’ve discussed, as well as plans for the future.

“Did the two of you coordinate your outfits for the video?” Tae says curiously, and you glance down at your clothes. It’s only then you realise that- although your outfit is darker than his- there are flowers on Hoseok’s bomber jacket and your dress is covered in a floral pattern.

“Huh, I didn’t even notice,” you mutter as you pluck at your dress. “Guess we’re just telepathic.”

Hoseok stays silent, strangely enough, but when you hold your hand up for a high five he responds enthusiastically and continues to grip your hand afterwards, which makes you laugh. “That’s friendship,” he says, and you laugh again, squeezing his hand.

The two of you keep laughing as the cameras start to roll, watching the clips from your most popular episodes so far, between answering commonly asked questions from fans- one of the more frequently asked being ‘why did Hoseok agree to be a co-host when he always seems scared during filming and screams all the time?’

You read this question off your list and Hoseok’s answer is immediate. “Y/n is one of the hardest workers I know,” he says. “So I was excited to be invited on board for a show that she had created. And I wouldn’t say that I’m always screaming-”

“Yeah, when you have to pause to breathe,” you interject, and he laughs.

“Sure,” he says indulgently. “But, honestly, when Y/n is there it’s easy to forget that we’re standing in some terrifying old building or haunted tomb or whatever.” You rest your chin on your hand as you watch him continue to speak. “I would honestly be a lot more scared if she wasn’t there. She’s very good at distracting me if I’m getting too worried. She’s very comforting.”

“That’s a nice way of saying that I’m basically a defence mechanism for you.”

“Basically.” Hoseok grins at you so widely, teeth on show, gorgeous.

Now that he mentions it, it’s true that as your friendship has grown, his fear has ebbed; although he still screams as loudly as before, it happens less often, but because sudden noises and jump scares always startle him, it still happens a lot. If you don’t take the time to reflect it’s kind of easy to forget how your friendship has grown over time, which is why it’s another good reason to have this retrospective- for the sake of the series, sure, but your relationship with Hoseok has grown as the show has, too.

When you flip over the final page to read the final question, you’re surprised to see an extra one tacked onto the end- you’d been the one to select them, after all, and this one has been added after the fact, someone’s messy handwriting scratched across the paper. You don’t recognise the writing. Honestly it kind of looks like someone had written it with their non-dominant hand to avoid detection, almost like a child’s writing from a cartoon, all but missing the backward E’s- but the question is pretty innocuous, so you figure you may as well answer it. You can just ask Namjoon to cut the footage later if you don’t like it.

“Y/n: If Hoseok decided to quit being your co-host, who would you want to replace him?” You squint at the paper as you decipher the scrawl, not seeing how Jimin and Taehyung exchange a sly, down-low high five off camera. “Huh.”

“You started the series with Yoongi, right?” Hoseok pipes up. “Would you bring him back?”

You’d chosen Yoongi as your original co-host for Unsolved because you vibed well and had pretty similar opinions when it came to a lot of things, and you’d worked well together in the past, but the truth is that- “No, I wouldn’t,” you say immediately. Hoseok seems genuinely surprised. “Honestly, if you stopped co-hosting with me, that would be the end of Unsolved. Hoseok and I are a package deal at this point and I would never consider filming the show without him.”

Hoseok looks stunned, but you keep going. “The show wouldn’t exist without Hoseok. Yoongi was great for the videos he was in, but- even if he didn’t have other commitments, he couldn’t take over from Hobi. Unsolved isn’t just a show about the supernatural, or crimes, it’s about us dealing with the supernatural or true crimes,” you continue, and then your nose wrinkles as you realise what you’ve said. “Well, we don’t directly deal with true crimes, fortunately. I’d make a terrible detective. My hand isn’t steady enough to draw one of those chalk outlines, y’know? I’d probably just end up drawing someone who looked suspiciously like Kirby. Anyway, Hoseok is my best friend as well as my co-host; if you get one of us, you get both of us, and if you don’t get both of us, you get neither of us.”

“I love you, Y/n,” Hoseok says. It’s not the first time he’s said this to you, but you think it’s the first time he’s ever said it on camera, and his tone is strangely earnest. He must be getting really nostalgic about the start of the show if it’s making him sound like that.

“Love you too, Hobi.” You beam at him. “I’m really glad we became friends.”

Behind the cameras, Taehyung makes a weird croaking sound and Jimin hits him hard on the arm.

“Uh, normally when someone's choking you hit them on the back, Minnie,” you say.

“I’m not choking, I’m fine,” Taehyung wheezes. Jimin punches him again.

“Uh-huh.” You raise an eyebrow. “Anyway. What was I saying. Oh! Yeah, referring back to the question- while I would never stop him if he thought it was the right thing to do, I certainly hope that Hobi doesn’t want to quit being a co-host.”

“I would never.” Hoseok’s expression is weirdly intense as he says this and you can’t help but laugh.

“Good! I’m glad we’re both in it for the long haul.”

Taehyung still looks kind of constipated once filming is over, but before you can ask him what’s up, Jimin pulls him to the corner of the room and the two men exchange some quiet words. They seem oddly serious and you purse your lips as you try to work out what’s going on, but then Hoseok’s hand slips into yours and your attention is drawn away from them.

“Celebratory 70th episode filming dinner?”

“I thought we were going to have a celebratory dinner with our minions when the episode actually aired,” you say, tilting your head at Taehyung and Jimin. “Didn’t you put it in the GCal?”

“I meant just you and me,” Hoseok says, squeezing your hand gently. “A co-host only dinner.”

“Ooh, we’re in an exclusive club, are we?” You giggle and squeeze his hand back. “Sure, why not. Can we have pizza? I’m feeling like pizza.”

“You can have anything you want, baby,” Hoseok answers, affection written across all his features. You go all wobbly inside, your insides melting into a puddle of goo at how warm and tender he is. You love your best friend so much. “Let’s leave those two to it, it seems like they’re busy.”

You look back over at your cameramen. Jimin has his cheeks puffed out and Taehyung looks chagrined. You purse your lips again, a little unsure if you should leave them if they’re having some sort of disagreement, but then Hoseok slips his hand out of yours and crouches down in a way that you recognise instantly. You make a noise of happiness and leap up, letting him lift you into a piggyback; you lock your arms around his neck and start to giggle as he bounces you a little, getting his hands comfortable under your calves.

“We’re off!” Hoseok announces. Jimin and Taehyung look away from their discussion to the two of you, their expressions both mirrors of each other as their eyebrows rise in unison when they spot how Hoseok is carrying you. “We’ll leave you to tidy the studio.”

“Enjoy the rest of the pie!” You wiggle your fingers at them in a little wave before squealing when Hoseok hitches you up his back again without warning, tightening your grip on him. “Pizza time, Hobi, let’s go.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” Hoseok says, waggling his eyebrows in a way that makes you laugh before you bury your head in his hair, stifling your giggles against his scalp. He smells so nice and soft and lovely, familiar, like home.

“Wow, they’re unbelievable,” Jimin whispers behind you, though you don’t hear him, more focused on not bumping your head in the doorway as Hoseok walks you both out of the studio.

You end up going to your favourite pizzeria, sitting at your usual booth in the corner. You’ve been here so many times with Hoseok that you don’t need to look at the menu and just order your usual half-and-half, feeding each other slices of garlic bread and struggling with the gooey, molten cheese that seems to stretch endlessly from your slices of pizza. You feel warm and comfortable, your feet brushing under the small table whenever you shift your legs, laughing each time Hoseok traps your foot under his before letting you go.

“I can’t believe we’ve done 70 episodes,” you say, leaning back against the smooth leather of the booth seat after you’ve stolen a sip of Hoseok’s Sprite. “I never thought we’d get this far. I honestly thought you’d have died of fright by now,” you tease, swinging your leg gently against his.

“If I die, I’ll haunt you from beyond the grave,” Hoseok says, pulling a face at you that’s clearly meant to be ghoulish, and you laugh.

“I’ll take the spirit box home from work so you can talk to me.” You lean your elbow on the table and rest your chin on your palm, still smiling. “Obviously you’d do the same for me, right?”

“As long as you kept other ghosts away from it,” Hoseok says, shivering. “I don’t want to have to talk to them too.”

“I promise. I’ll be the only thing haunting you, don’t worry.”

Hoseok smiles at you, eyes warm. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

You share a banana split for dessert. You’re pretty full so Hoseok eats the majority of it, which gives you the opportunity to watch him, the way his dimples appear when he chews; you must have watched him eat a thousand times but you’re never any less endeared by the sight.

“I meant what I said, you know,” you say suddenly, and Hoseok looks up, cheeks bulging with ice cream and banana.

“Hmrh?” He makes a noise of questioning around his mouthful of food, and you laugh when you spot a smear of chocolate sauce on his chin. You swipe it away with your thumb before mindlessly sucking it off, too distracted by the sweetness bursting across your tongue to notice how Hoseok stares at the motion with wide eyes. He swallows. “What?”

“When I said that I was glad that we became friends,” you say. “When I first asked you to star in an episode I never thought we’d end up here, you know? But… I’m really happy. And I really do love you a lot, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiles all the time. In fact, you’d say he spends more time smiling than he doesn’t, happiness always radiating from his face like sunlight shining down from the sky, golden and bright- but the smile he gives you right now is softer than that. It’s more like the softness of the sunrise, spilling over you through just-opened curtains, warm and gentle and comforting.

“I love you too, Y/n,” he says. “More than anything.”

You put a hand over your face as you giggle bashfully at the earnest look on his face. “Stop,” you whine. “You’re so cheesy, oh my God.”

“You said it first,” Hoseok points out, but he starts to laugh along with you, before the server comes over to give you your bill and you end up fighting over who pays- Hoseok wins, much to your disappointment, but lets you front the tip as a compromise.

As always he catches the subway with you and holds your hand all the way home, only letting go when you get to the door of your apartment building. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he says, and you glance up from where you’ve been rummaging in your bag for your keys.

“Bright and early as always,” you reply, smiling. “I’ll make sure to bring your casserole dish back tomorrow, it’s still on my counter. I’ll make you some lunch to make up for how long I’ve kept it.”

“Okay.” Hoseok watches as you finally unearth your keys, jingling them triumphantly as you do. “Baby?”

“Hm?” You look up from where you’ve been fitting the keys into the lock. “Yes?”

“I meant it when I said it, too.” He looks oddly sombre, none of the usual levity on his face. “I love you more than anything, Y/n.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, stuttering a little at his tone and his expression. He’s told you that he loves you, sure, and you always say it back, but Hoseok’s never said it like this: like there’s more meaning behind his words than normal. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, frozen in place, key still pressed into the lock- but before you can gather your thoughts Hoseok’s face is morphing into his usual smile before he dips forwards and kisses you on the forehead.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow! Don’t forget the casserole dish!”

And then he’s bouncing down the steps just like he always does, turning momentarily to give you a jaunty wave before walking briskly back in the direction of the subway.

“See you tomorrow,” you echo faintly, feeling off kilter and off balance as you watch him disappear into the distance.

Okay. So. You’ve told yourself on multiple occasions that, nowadays, what you feel for Hoseok is entirely platonic. He’s your best friend, and you love him, and it’s very easy to feel romantically inclined towards your friends sometimes because friendship involves love, and you should be friends with your romantic partners anyway, so there’s a lot of overlap. You may have lingering memories of your crush, yes, but you’re over it.

At least, you could have sworn you were. So why are you projecting onto Hoseok again all of a sudden? When he said he loved you, it wasn’t a romantic confession, despite what your instincts might be telling you. Your brain is screaming at you to look at it logically, and you’re trying your best to tell yourself that, that it Wasn’t Romantic and it was Just Hoseok Being Hoseok, the man who tells all his friends that he loves them on a regular basis, it wasn’t romantic.

“Morning, baby,” Hoseok says, smiling at you, before noticing both the coffees you’re holding. “Ooh, is one of those for me?”

“Hi.” Your voice is weirdly breathless. “Yeah, I got your favourite.”

Hoseok lights up and makes grabby hands at you, and you feel utterly helpless as you hand it over. You feel like Past-Y/n, a previous version of yourself, the one that was still new to BigHit and used to get all in a muddle when Hoseok so much as looked at you. You feel like you’re rediscovering your crush all over again, like some sort of giddy schoolgirl, and you kind of want to slap yourself- but then Hoseok takes a sip of his coffee and makes a little noise of pleasure and all that self-hatred turns to static, replaced with nothing but affection for the man holding the door open for you.

You manage to keep it together pretty well, for the most part, you think. It’s not until you leave your computer to speak to Hoseok about something that you nearly lose it. He sees you coming and smiles widely, instinctively wheeling away his desk and patting his lap in invitation. Your brain goes blank as you panic and you abruptly swerve and act like you were walking over to Jungkook the whole time, missing the way Hoseok’s face drops with disappointment.

You’ve been lurking to one side of Jungkook’s desk for a few minutes before the man acknowledges you, looking away from the video he’s apparently editing to raise an eyebrow at you.

“Are you lost? Hobi-hyung is over there.” Jungkook starts to point but then you grab his hand before anyone notices, pushing it back down against his desk.

“I know where Hobi is,” you say through gritted teeth. Jungkook blinks at you as you continue to trap his hand against his desk, tightening your grip when his fingers twitch. “I am having a small crisis and I would appreciate it if you let me pretend to have a conversation with you about work.”

Jungkook looks baffled but doesn’t argue, clearly a little scared of how tightly you’re grasping his fingers. “Um, okay,” he says, slowly. “Do you need to hold my hand at the same time?”

You look down at where your hands are still connected before you release him. He flexes his fingers with a wince. “Wow, you’re a lot stronger than you look.” He sounds impressed. “Have you been working out?”

“I bench press the weight of my stupidity daily,” you sigh. Jungkook lets your words pass without comment, putting his free hand back onto his mouse and resuming his work. You squint at his screen, intrigued. “What are you working on?”

You end up perching on Jungkook’s desk as he talks you through his most recent project, and how he and Tae have almost finished putting together the cat shelter video- you coo at all the footage of the different cats, small kittens to mangy strays, scruffy and cute. You’re too busy laughing at the unflattering shots they have of Yoongi while he’d been sleeping before they’d written across his face and you don’t notice how Hoseok keeps looking over with a mix of confusion and almost hurt flashing across his features.

He doesn't show any of this when you meet him later, though. You’ve recomposed yourself by the time lunch rolls around and you manage to return Hoseok’s casserole dish without fumbling. Despite your inner turmoil last night you’d still made time to pack lunch for the two of you, using the cute lunchboxes that Hoseok’s family had given you last Christmas- he lights up when he sees the dosirak you’ve packed, fluffy rice and other side dishes, all of his favourites.

“You are a blessing,” he says, and you smile as he eagerly dives in. You tackle your own food more slowly, having to approach the kimbap carefully because of how you’d been overzealous with the filling. “Ooh, can I have some of that?”

“Sure,” you say, gesturing at the bite sized slices in the tub in front of you. Instead of taking one of those, however, Hoseok leans forward for the piece of kimbap you’ve already grabbed. You’re frozen in place as you feel his lips around your fingers, teeth lightly grazing your skin as you instinctively surrender the food to his mouth, a light swipe of his tongue over your fingertips to catch the light sheen of sesame oil there, soft and wet against your touch.

Hoseok leans back and chews like nothing is out of the ordinary- and to be fair, you’ve fed finger foods to him before, it’s not out of the ordinary, but right now you feel like you’re on the verge of a meltdown. Your brain keeps replaying the past few seconds, the softness of his lips around your fingers, the wet of his tongue against them, the way his eyelashes had fanned out against his cheek as he’d glanced down at the food in your hand. You are Very Much Not Okay.

Hoseok is still happily chewing his kimbap, swallowing it down and taking a sip of water before he seems to notice that you’ve gone eerily silent. “Y/n?” He blinks at you. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say. “Um. I just remembered that I. Have a thing? I have to? Go do? You can eat the rest, seeyoulaterBYE.”

You can’t let this crush rear its head like this again and make your friendship awkward. The two of you have shared the same bed more times than you can count, for God’s sake, and you’ve even discussed rooming together- the rent in LA isn’t exactly cheap, and if you pooled your resources you could get a pretty nice place- and that had all been okay! That hadn’t made you feel strange at all! But Hoseok eats food from your hand like he has a thousand times and you’re spiralling out of control like this? Why is this happening now?

Ugh. Ughughughugh. Stupid.

Namjoon finds you hidden away in the Unsolved studio later, where you’ve absconded with your tablet to try your best to get some work done with your limited resources, hidden away from everyone; it’s weird being in here when you’re not filming, without Hoseok in the seat next to you, so you’re not really doing a great job. (You’ve spent more time blankly watching Queer Eye on Netflix than you have being productive.)

“Hey, Y/n.” Namjoon’s gentle voice is like a balm to your soul. Hoseok might be your best friend now, but Namjoon was your friend first and the two of you are still close, both in and out of work. He’d made you feel comfortable and welcome when you’d first joined the team and continues to support all your projects. He’s a really great friend and colleague and an even better person.

You smile at him as he shuts the door. You can tell he’s trying to do it quietly but ends up accidentally slamming it loudly, and you stifle a laugh as you notice the guilt that appears on his face.

“Joonie! Come on in.” You beckon at the seat next to you, scooting away a little so he plenty of room to sit. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just wanted to talk to you about some editing stuff but Hobi said you’d disappeared somewhere for a, um, ‘thing’.” Namjoon doesn’t comment on the fact that you still clearly have Queer Eye open on your tablet, Jonathan’s face a blur on the screen from where you’ve paused it during a transitional shot. Instead he sits carefully down next to you and leans back in the chair, adjusting his glasses; he looks particularly cozy today, with his glasses and jumper and cardigan. He pulls off the Hot Academic look really well. “Any particular reason why you’ve squirreled yourself away here?”

You muffle a sigh, looking down at the notebook you have next to your tablet; what little handwriting is on the page is especially messy and disjointed, reflecting your distracted mind. Namjoon has a naturally reassuring presence anyway but his outfit today seems to accentuate that even further, like you could bury your head into the fuzziness of his jumper and find inner peace.

“Oh, okay, I suppose this is happening,” he says.

Yep, the jumper is just as soft as you’d thought, and it smells nice and soft too. Namjoon doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve smooshed your face into his shoulder and instead he angles himself so you’re both more comfortable, and he starts to pat your back soothingly. It’s nice, of course, but you can’t help but compare his touch to Hoseok’s- Namjoon is more methodical and measured, like he’s thinking about each motion, while Hoseok just seems smoother and more natural because he’s always touching you, second nature by now.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Ughughughughguhguh,” you say articulately into the weave of Namjoon’s clothing. He chuckles warmly.

“Long day?”

Good old Namjoon. A gentle question, open ended, offering you the opportunity to deflect, or tell him the truth. You turn your head to avoid getting jumper lint in your mouth, but stay leaned against him.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s just…” You struggle to put it into words, but Namjoon just waits patiently while he continues to pat your back. “It’s Hobi?”

Namjoon’s hand goes still, though you’re not sure if it’s because of your words themselves or the tone of them, the way you pitched it up at the end like a question, like you weren’t too sure yourself. “Did he do something?”

“No! No. Yes? No,” you settle on. “No, no he didn’t. It’s not him, it’s me,” you say. “Ugh.”

You end up pulling away from Namjoon to scrub tiredly at your face, not noticing his expression, which he quickly reschools when you look back at him. “We were just doing our usual thing, you know,” you say, and Namjoon nods as he listens, even though your description is incredibly vague and could mean any number of things. “But then he said he loved me and like- we’re best friends, we say we love each other a lot, it’s not unusual or anything, but… I guess it got to me this time? Like it felt like something more than just friendship? He didn’t mean it like that, of course, but I guess it’s hard to, uh, shake that feeling now that it’s gotten into my head.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Although Namjoon seems a little perplexed he’s still clearly concerned, and your eyes widen.

“What? No, no, it’s fine! I don’t mind it. It’s more that-” You pause. You’ve never actually voiced your less-than-platonic feelings for Hoseok out loud, though you’re certain it must have been obvious to start with- even though no one had ever mentioned it or teased you about it, so maybe they hadn't noticed.

Either way, it sort of feels like once you put the words out into the world then the truth will linger and be unavoidable in a way that you’ve been desperately avoiding so far. But it’s just you, and Namjoon, and you would trust Namjoon with your life, even if you wouldn’t trust him to hold anything fragile or delicate. “It’s not the idea of Hoseok loving me like that that makes me uncomfortable. I just don’t want things to be weird?” Namjoon continues to look levelly at you, waiting patiently for you to get to the point, and you take in a deep breath. “IhaveacrushonHobi,” you rush out. “And I don’t want to ruin the friendship by reading into things too much because I’m being overly hopeful or something.”

Namjoon pauses. He looks thoughtful as he fixes his gaze on you through his glasses. “Y/n.” He sounds solemn, like he’s discussing something of deep importance, like your tiny breakdown over your best friend requires the same level of gravity as the rapid disappearance of bees, or climate change- like it’s something world changing and heavy and important. He’s not doing what you’ve done over the years, as in, desperately tried to minimise your feelings just so you can stay sane. “You sound unhappy about it.”

“I am unhappy about it,” you say, unhappy. “Hobi is my best friend and I do love him a lot, and I’m happy being friends, and I reallyreallyreally don’t want to make things weird. I should be used to this by now, it’s not like what he and I do is anything I’m not used to.”

“Things change when romantic feelings develop,” Namjoon says, ever patient, and you let out a pained little groan.

“It’s not- these feelings aren’t new, Namjoon.” You sigh, and for the first time since you started this conversation, Namjoon looks surprised. Guess your crush on Hoseok hadn’t been obvious in the beginning, then. “I don’t know if I ever told you that I met Hoseok before I even got a job here, technically?”

You’d come out of your BigHit interview feeling unsure. Off balance. You hadn’t known if you’d come across as desperate and too eager to please, rather than a go-getter team player, but all you’d been able to think about was how getting a job at BigHit would mean that you could finally save up enough to move out of the awful shared room you were in with the mould in the corner that kept coming back no matter how many times you cleaned it. The interview had gone on longer than you thought and you barely had time to get to Starbucks before your shift started- if you got a job at BigHit you could finally quit that place- and you’d hurried to leave the building only to discover that it was raining.

“Oh,” you’d said.

You’d stood in the reception area, staring out of the glass windows at the torrential downpour outside; it had been sunny earlier that day, no indication that the heavens were going to open, and you hadn’t brought a coat or umbrella with you. Your one nice interview outfit was going to get drenched, and it was going to stay wet in your locker at Starbucks while you were working, and basically the entire month had been just terrible and after a potentially wasted interview you just kind of wanted to cry.

Before the tears could start to pool in your eyes, however, Hoseok had appeared. Not that you’d known him or his name at the time, of course, but he’d swept into the building like some burst of sunlight that had cut through the clouds despite the rain, shaking an umbrella off before laughing at Yoongi’s disgruntled face at the scattering water. You’d been stunned by the sudden flare of energy in the room and were still standing there when Hoseok’s eyes fell on you, on your stance, the way you were staring at the grey skies outside and the obvious lack of an umbrella in your hands.

And he’d just- he’d just walked up to you like you were friends, like he knew you, and he’d proffered the still damp umbrella, like it was nothing.

“It’s raining pretty heavily out there,” he’d said, and he’d been smiling, and you’d looked at him in shock, and he’d laughed. “You’ll need this.”

“I- what?”

“You clearly need this more than me,” Hoseok had said, bright smile fading into something a little more gentle, and you’d accepted the umbrella with unsteady hands, unable to say no to this sunshine of a man. “Feel free to give it back whenever.”

“I- I don’t work here,” you’d admitted, shamefaced. “I’m just here for an interview.”

“So you can give it back to me once you get the job.” Hoseok had said it like it was a done deal, like there weren’t other people vying for the position you’d applied for, people who were probably infinitely more qualified and better in interviews. “Okay?”

For the first time that month, you’d felt like someone believed in you- because you certainly didn’t believe in yourself. But Hoseok had been smiling at you, with his heart shaped mouth and his bright eyes, and you’d felt like a flower basking in his rays, turning towards him as your petals unfurled in his light, and you’d said- “Sure. Yes. I will.”

Here, now, in the present, you look down at your hands as you finish telling this story. “I just put the umbrella on his desk when he wasn’t around, after I got the job,” you tell Namjoon. “I didn’t talk to Hobi for ages because I didn’t- I didn’t have the strength to look him in the face without, you know. Without making it obvious that I had a raging schoolgirl crush on him. And he never said anything about it- I don't think he even remembered me at all, he'd just given some person his umbrella because they needed it, you know? And then we became friends and my crush died down and everything was okay, but- I guess the crush never really went away after all. Ugh,” you say. “This sucks, Joon. It sucks.”

The way Namjoon looks at you is compassionate and soft. “I know,” he says. “It’s understandable that you’re worried about this, because your friendship with Hoseok is important to you. But I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about, really.”

“You’re just saying that,” you mumble, and Namjoon chuckles.

“No, I’m not,” he says, gently. “I think you need to be more confident in what you and Hoseok have. Even if you admitted your feelings and he didn’t feel the same, you know he loves you too much to throw your friendship away, and it’s strong enough that it can survive whatever’s thrown at it. But, if you’ll forgive me for speaking out of turn, I would wager you’re not the only one with romantic feelings, Y/n.”

“You’re very sweet, Joonie, but I really don’t think that’s the case.” You let out a little self-pitying sigh. “Hobi’s just so lovely to everyone, it probably seems like that because we’re best friends.”

One of Namjoon’s eyebrows rises. “Is that what you really think?”

“Yes,” you say, a little miserable, looking down as you pick at a loose thread in one of your sleeves. “People mistake us as a couple a lot because we’re so close, you know? But Hoseok doesn’t see me like that.”

“Mm.” Namjoon makes a little noise of understanding, giving you a considering look as you continue to unravel your sleeve. “I see.”

He eventually coaxes you out of the studio, and when he discovers that you never finished your lunch he brings you to the café around the corner that all the BigHit employees love; you pick up an iced coffee for Hoseok, just the way he likes it. You feel better after talking to Namjoon and by the time you leave the café you feel pretty much back to normal. Mostly relaxed. You don’t feel weird when Hoseok lights up when he sees you, because he always does, because you’re his best friend, and this is normal. You can be normal.

“Again? It was my turn to get you coffee,” Hoseok says with a pout and you laugh.

“Don’t worry about it.” When you hand Hoseok his drink and your fingers brush, it’s okay. It’s okay. Your friendship with Hoseok is more important than your other feelings for him, and you’ll just focus on that. You’re not sure that’s what Namjoon was trying to communicate to you, with all his listening and gentle words, but you can bottle up these emotions and keep them on lockdown until the weird feeling passes. It’ll work. You’ll be fine.

A few hours later, you realise that you’re not fine.

“Joonie!” You pounce on Namjoon when you find him alone in the break room, filling a glass at the tap. He jumps and sends water sloshing over his hands when he drops his cup, though it fortunately doesn’t break when it clatters into the sink. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“I’m not going to point out that you snuck up on me from behind without making any noise, but, that’s okay,” Namjoon says, ever tolerant. He very carefully puts the glass upright in the middle of the sink before he turns around. “What’s up?”

“I, um, am maybe panicking a little bit,” you admit in a hushed voice, even though there’s no one else in the tiny kitchen with you. “So you know Unsolved has a bigger budget now that we’re more popular? And I’ve been pushing for us to go abroad somewhere on said bigger budget? And they said we could schedule some episodes for Britain because basically every other building in Britain is haunted?”

“Yes, I am aware,” Namjoon says. “I did help you to draft the emails that you sent management.”

“You did, and I’m still eternally grateful,” you say, truthfully. “But I’ve been so caught up in the 70th episode retrospective and my much more recent, uh, Hoseok related stuff, that I totally forgot how soon it was coming up and we fly to London next week?”

Namjoon blinks at you. “You have plenty of time to pack before next week, why are you panicking?”

You muffle a scream into your hands while Namjoon looks on with concern.

“It’s not packing I’m worried about, Joon,” you say once you’ve pulled your face out of your palms. “It’s just that when we’re abroad I’m not going to be able to get away from Hoseok and I’m worried that I’m going to erupt like a volcano and spew all my emotions over him and then I’m going to have to change my name and drop off the grid forever when he inevitably rejects me, and I was always terrible at camping. I could never get the fire to light.”

Namjoon, for all that his patience seems endless and eternal, gives you a look that borders on weary. Like he’s the father to a child who keeps eating glue even after being told that there’s no nutritional value in it and they should be using it for macaroni art anyway, and also why are they eating the glue when it’d make more sense to eat the pasta that’s right there, even if it’s uncooked?

“First of all, you can be off the grid and still have access to ways of heating that don’t require fire,” he says. “And second of all, why are you panicking so much about London?”

“Because Hobi always gets super clingy when we fly anywhere.” You shuffle from foot to foot, feeling awkward. “And that’s when we’re still in the US. I feel like if we’re in a different country it’ll be compounded? Even if I don’t say anything out loud, I feel like my feelings will be obvious just in the way I act?”

Namjoon pauses before he grips your shoulders. His palms feel so big and warm, a steadying presence. “Would that be so terrible? Think about it, Y/n. If that was the case, then it gives Hobi the opportunity to speak out if he notices. If your friendship is entirely platonic to him, then he won’t notice, right? You’ll be okay.”

You open your mouth to take in a breath and respond, but before you can say anything Seokjin comes sauntering into the cramped break area, entirely indifferent to the weird atmosphere he’s walked into. His eyebrows raise as he spots how you and Namjoon are standing. “Ooh, are we gossiping? Is there tea to be spilled? You both look very serious, let me in on it.”

“I was just asking Namjoon if there was any advice he could give me about travelling to Britain,” you lie.

“She didn’t realise that over there lemonade is like soda.” Namjoon lets his hands drop from your shoulders as he plays along with ruse, and your face twists up in confusion.

“It’s what?” You look at him for a second before realising that Jin is staring at you, and you pretend to laugh. “Ohh, yeah, haha! Yeah, that’s crazy, haha. Um, I should get back to my desk for my notebook, I should write this down before I forget,” you say, before scuttling out of the break room.

Once you’ve disappeared, Seokjin gives Namjoon a long look. “I can’t believe you haven’t broken yet,” he says. “I still personally think we should just lock them both in a room together until one of them confesses, but apparently that’s ‘inappropriate workplace behaviour’.” The air quotes he makes are exaggerated and theatrical, as if the entire thing is a farce.

“It is and I’m not going to take that statement back,” Namjoon responds. Seokjin rolls his eyes dramatically but Namjoon ignores him. “It’s better if they come around to it by themselves. I believe in them. Besides, weren’t you the one who intervened when it looked like Hoseok was going to kiss her? I had to edit that footage, I saw how you pushed all those decorations off the table.”

Jin raises his eyebrows. “Can you imagine the chaos if he’d done that without either of them confessing properly first? They’d both pretend like it never happened. I was doing them a favour.” He casts a sideways look at Namjoon, who nods in reluctant agreement. “You know the rest of the office has a pool on how soon one of those idiots actually confesses? Do you want in on it? If either one of us gets it, we can split it 50/50.”

“That’s also grossly inappropriate,” Namjoon says, before he pauses. “Hm. How much is in the pool?”

Turns out you didn’t need to worry so much.

“Oh my God, look at that!” Hoseok has his face pressed up against the glass of the pod, the London Eye giving you the opportunity to look down at the metropolis of the city sprawling out below you; Hoseok’s pointing at a weirdly shaped skyscraper, panels of glass refracting off alternate shades of blue. “That’s so cool!”

“I think it’s called The Gherkin,” you say and he makes a noise of delight. Beside you, Jimin and Taehyung take a selfie with the panorama of London behind them, and you smile.

It’s true that Hoseok has been clingier than usual. The thing is, though, you’ve been clingier too; you’ve had time between filming to do some sightseeing, and neither of you have been to London before, so everything is exciting and fun and new, and you’ve been holding onto each other throughout the journey, familiarity in an unfamiliar place. You’re too busy taking in the sights and travelling from place to place, you and Hoseok and Jimin and Taehyung cramming close together each time you take the Tube somewhere, or asking people to take photos of you, and you’re having too much fun to worry about anything else.

You even get recognised a few times, which is exciting. You know Unsolved is popular but there’s something gratifying about people an ocean away knowing who you are and enjoying your work- you look on fondly as Hoseok makes your fans laugh, putting the nervous ones at ease, before shuffling together so they can take photos with you. It’s lovely, really, and you’re so glad that you and Hoseok get to experience this together. There’s no one else you’d rather be with.

You’d had a brief moment of panic after filming the first episode, Hoseok sliding into your bed as per usual, but you’d both been so tired and jetlagged that you’d basically fallen asleep the second he’d finished wrapping his arms around you, so it had been okay. You weren’t as jetlagged for the second episode, of course, but there was something soothing about having Hoseok curled around you as he slept; despite how your heart probably should have been racing, it had just gone quiet instead, slipping into a gentle beating rhythm as you’d drifted into sleep.

So on the whole it’s been all been going a lot better than you’d thought. It feels natural to let your head fall onto Hoseok’s shoulder as you both stare out of the train window, watching the fields and villages slip by as you race out of London to your final filming location, only a few days away from jetting home again.

“We should come back,” Hoseok says suddenly, his voice low enough that Jimin and Taehyung aren’t distracted from the card game they’re playing together across the aisle from you.

“For more episodes? We’ll probably have to wait till the next quarter so there’s money in the budget.” You turn away from the view outside to look up at him, chin resting on his shoulder. “We can start looking up other haunted locations when we get home, if you want.”

Hoseok smiles. “I meant we should come back just for a regular holiday,” he says. “So we don’t have to worry about rushing from place to place. I know you’re disappointed we didn’t have time to see the Royal Botanic Gardens. I know how much you love flowers.”

Oh. You keep looking up at Hoseok, the way you have such a perfect view of the round apples of his cheeks, the swoop of his nose, the sharp cut of his jaw- you think about walking hand in hand with him past bursting blooms, through delicate arching greenhouses, surrounded by colour and beauty, and you know you’d still think he was the most beautiful flower there.

“I’d like that,” you say quietly. You’re almost drowned out by how loudly Taehyung yells snap! and the subsequent groan Jimin lets out, but you know Hoseok hears you by the way his mouth lifts into a smile. “Is there anything you wanted to see next time?”

Hoseok shrugs, but only with one shoulder, doing a little jiggle with the one you’re not resting your chin on, which makes you smile. “Nothing specific,” he says. “I’m happy as long as I get to see it with you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he says this, words settling deep in your chest, and you turn your head so that your cheek is resting on his shoulder again, shirt soft against your skin. “Love you, Hobi.”

Hoseok doesn’t respond straight away, but then he turns his head and kisses the crown of your head lightly. “Love you too.”

You arrive in Colchester in the late afternoon, and you don’t film until tomorrow, so after you’ve finished unpacking your stuff at your apparently haunted bed and breakfast, you make the group decision to just chill out for the evening and grab a couple of drinks. There’s a pub near your B&B so you and the boys pile into it, claiming a table in the corner so that you’re not in the way of the regulars, although every so often one of you has to venture up to the bar to order your drinks, trying to follow whatever sort of queuing system seems to be going on. (After the lemonade thing you had actually ended up actually asking Namjoon about Britain and the etiquette over here, and he was very insistent on following queues.)

By the time it’s your turn to grab the drinks it seems like it’s starting to get busy, so it’s taking some time for the bartender to get to you, but that’s okay- you lean against the bar and scroll through your phone, taking the opportunity to double check your schedule for tomorrow, when you feel someone tap your arm and you glance up.

“Hi,” the man says. He’s been waiting nearby, lounging against the bar, similar to you. “Are you waiting for a drink? You can go first, if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, no!” You shake your head and laugh a little. “You were here before me, that’s okay.”

When he hears your accent his eyes light up. “Oh, are you a tourist? I thought I hadn’t seen you around, because I definitely would have remembered you. How long are you over here for?”

“Uh, just a couple of nights.” You smile at him. “I’m guessing you’re a local?”

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you. “I could show you around, if you’d like.”

You startle at the sudden sensation of hands sliding around your waist, but it only takes you a second to recognise the touch and you relax against Hoseok, your back pressed against his chest as you turn away from the man to glance up at your friend. “Hi, baby,” he says. “Did you make a friend?”

“We’ve only just started talking, actually,” you say, turning back to the guy you have yet to introduce yourself properly to. “Sorry, I never caught your name?”

“That’s okay. I think my friends are calling me,” he says, and he pushes himself off the bar before brushing himself down and then walking away, giving both of you a polite little nod as he passes.

“He never even ordered his drinks.” You blink with confusion and then shrug. “Oh well, means we’ll get ours sooner. You can go sit back down, Hobi, I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m already here, I may as well stay with you,” he says, tightening his grip around your waist, and you don’t argue. He keeps hold of you as you wait and then helps you carry your drinks to the table before he pulls you onto his lap, keeping you in place with one hand splayed over your stomach while he uses the other to lift his glass to his mouth.

“Fuck chairs, right?” Jimin says. Taehyung elbows him.

“Don’t be jealous because I have the best seat in the house,” you say, before sticking your tongue out at Jimin.

He gives you a mock affronted gasp and clutches his chest and you laugh before settling back against Hoseok, comfortable on your familiar perch atop his thighs. Hoseok might be the world’s biggest lightweight and easily gets tipsy over a single sip of alcohol- but despite this, his hold on you is firm and steady, even when he’s laughing over your shoulder, keeping you safe in his lap. He keeps stealing sips of your drink, dipping his head forwards to capture your straw whenever you’re not paying attention, but you don’t mind. What’s yours is Hoseok’s. (You’ve been taking sips of his beer, too, even if you make a face at the bitterness each time.)

By the time you shuffle back to your B&B, you’re all pleasantly drunk and keep giggling at each other about dumb and inconsequential things, although you’re careful to keep your voices down so that you don’t disturb anyone, trying to keep your footsteps light as you walk up the stairs. Jimin and Taehyung’s room is a little further up the corridor than yours and you clap your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter when you see Taehyung trying to open the wrong door before Jimin redirects him.

You might not be too much better, but at least you remember which room is yours- you unlock the door on your first try, although it’s a little hard to step inside with how Hoseok is wrapped around your back, trying to time his steps with yours but failing a little with how tipsy he is. You keep laughing whenever he moves his feet forwards at the wrong time, a messy tangle of limbs that keep bumping together as you kick your shoes off, and you end up collapsing onto one of the beds with Hoseok still clinging onto you. He tips over backwards while your back is still pressed to his chest and you let out a little squeal at the sudden falling sensation, but he cushions your fall without complaint and still doesn’t let go, even when you accidentally elbow him in the sternum.

“We should wash up and get in our pyjamas,” you say, but you’re already wriggling into a more comfortable position, turning over so you can look at his face instead of staring up at the ceiling. Hoseok’s head has sunken into one of the fluffy hotel-style pillows, his hair a messy halo around his head, face flushed red from the alcohol. You smile down at him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “I don’t want to move right now.”

“You’re so drunk,” you giggle, but you rest your head on his chest and let your body relax, muscles unwinding as you let out a long, happy sigh. “We can move later, then.”

Even though you’d genuinely meant to get up and do your nightly ritual, you’re so comfortable snuggled with Hoseok in the soft bed that you drift off. For once, you fall asleep before him, eyes fluttering shut as your breaths deepen with sleep; Hoseok keeps stroking a hand down your back, brushing tenderly down the line of your spine with his long fingers in a way he’s done a thousand times. He’s still grateful for the opportunity every time, though- that he gets to see you like this, that he can touch you like this, that you’ve allowed him so deeply into your life and made a home in his, too.

“Goodnight, baby,” Hoseok says, voice barely audible in the quiet of the room. You’re so deeply asleep that you don’t stir, but he’s still careful and gentle when he touches his lips to your forehead with the lightest of pressures, tender. “Sleep well.”

When you wake up the next morning, it takes you a long time to come fully to your senses. You feel warm and heavy, surrounded by the smell of fresh sheets and Hoseok, and you don’t want to wake up just yet; you’re in that soft place between waking and sleeping, drifting in wakeful limbo as you slowly start to regain a sense of who you are and where you are.

Your brain flickers on, starting to pull itself together as the sensation of being a singular warm mass starts to dissolve, drawing up a mental map of how your body is slotted against Hoseok’s, where your limbs start and his end. That’s your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. That’s his arm around your shoulder, keeping you close even in your sleep. That’s your hand, resting on his hip, fingers hooked in his belt. Those are your legs, tangled around his, your toes pressed to his calf, and that’s-

Your eyes fly open. You’re still wearing your clothes from the night before, thicker denim of your jeans rather than the flimsy cotton of your pyjamas, but you know exactly what’s pressed against your hip bone. You’ve slept in the same bed with Hoseok enough times that this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve woken to his morning wood, but you’ve never been this tangled up before; you normally slide out of bed and pretend you haven’t noticed anything, and by the time Hoseok wakes up it’s normally gone, or he subtly shuffles off to the bathroom to deal with it, thinking that you’re none the wiser.

It’s natural, it’s normal, it’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, but right now all you can think of is the hand you have near his hip, how close it is to his arousal, how easy it would be to slip your hand past his belt and jeans and boxers to grasp that hard, heavy heat-

You stiffen. You would never, ever do that, not ever, never take advantage of Hoseok while he was sleeping, and you know it was just a flickering thought in your still sleepy brain, probably still a little drunk, too- but you feel sick. You can’t believe you would even hypothetically consider taking advantage of him like that. If you were more than friends, then, sure, you’d wake Hoseok up with a pleasuring touch- but you’re not. You’re not.

It takes a real feat of slow, drawn out acrobatics, but you manage to extricate yourself from Hoseok’s grasp without waking him. He only wakes up to the sound of the shower rumbling through the wall, blinking as he realises that his arms are empty, even though he should be used to this by now. By the time you walk out of the ensuite, towelling off your hair, Hoseok’s got a cup of tea waiting for you by the kettle, a few scattered milk droplets nearby from the tiny, complimentary pots.

“Morning, baby.” He’s still sleepy and there’s a crease on his cheek from where he’d turned his head into the pillow, hair ruffled, shirt wrinkled after a night of sleeping in it. “Tea?”

You feel a little better after your hot shower, scrubbing all the dirty thoughts off your skin, but when Hoseok looks so soft and homely like this it’s hard not to want to just eat him whole.

“Ooh, how British,” you say, trying to laugh- Hoseok still seems too heavy-eyed to notice how you’re a little bit off right now, thankfully. “Yes, please.”

Unfortunately, you can’t shake your lingering weirdness and feelings of guilt, and when Hoseok wakes fully, he notices. You’re not due to film at Colchester Castle until it’s night time, shooting the episode when it’s going to be dark, so you’ve organised a day trip to the town’s zoo- Colchester Zoo is huge, full of all sorts of animals and exhibits, and Hoseok’s been excited to visit it from the moment he found out about it.

You’d even looked up the map online so that you could plan out the optimum route and ensure you didn’t miss anything, the two of you crowding around your phone screen and pointing excitedly at the names of the different exhibits, ready and raring to go.

So Hoseok is understandably a little stunned when you apparently seem to want to drag your feet and stay with Jimin and Taehyung instead. Both the boys want to just wander around the zoo willy-nilly, separating off from you and taking it slow- but after a brief, silent discussion between the two of them, eyes flicking at each other and then back to you, they agree to come with you on your planned route.

You send up a silent prayer of thanks to anyone who’s listening. You can use the chaotic duo as cushioning and put them between you and Hoseok if you need to.

You know you’re not being especially subtle right now, but every time Hoseok moves closer to you all you can think about is how his choice of outfit today is fraying your already delicate nerves, the loose fabric of his fashionable sweatpants doing nothing to protect the outline of his dick from your wandering gaze. You don’t mean to look, but you can’t help it, even if you’re fairly certain that half the time it’s just a crease in the fabric from how he’s standing and not actually his dick, but-

“I thought it’d be harder than that,” Taehyung says. “It’s so much hairier than I thought it would be.”

You freeze, eyes shooting away from Hoseok’s crotch. Luckily no one seems to be paying you any attention and instead the boys are peering into the armadillo exhibit, watching as the animal snuffles around the ground.

“They don’t call it a large hairy armadillo for nothing,” Jimin giggles. “And it’s still a baby, the armour hasn’t grown in properly yet. It’ll look harder once it’s grown up a bit.”

All the tension rushes out of your body at once. Jesus Christ.

Hoseok notices you slumping a little, glancing up from the map when he hears the sigh of air escape your body. “Are you okay?” He seems concerned.

“Never better,” you lie unconvincingly, giving him a weak smile. “What’s next on the list?”

Hoseok seems concerned about you for the whole day, and even a little hurt when you keep slipping out of his grasp, but the truth is that you need to put some distance between the two of you right now, for the sake of your own heart and sanity. Being desperately head over heels for Hoseok is one thing and you’d just started becoming okay with that again, but this sudden wave of physical yearning (you’re too embarrassed to think of it as horniness) is out of the left field and it’s a lot harder to cover up. You hate seeing sadness on Hoseok’s face, and normally you’d be cooing over him and asking him to tell you what’s wrong- but you know what’s wrong. It’s you.

“Do you think something happened?” Taehyung whispers quietly to Jimin, the two of them watching as you act like you’ve been distracted by the Koi fish and walk away from Hoseok as he’s just about to reach for your hand.

“I think we’re reaching critical mass.” Jimin pretends to read from the zoo map. “We’ve nearly hit the nuclear reaction and one of them is finally going to blow. It might get messy.”

“I hope not,” Taehyung says, watching the way Hoseok stares at the back of your head as you peer into the tank of glittering fish. “I’ve never been good at cleaning up.”

It’s a little easier once the evening finally rolls around and Hoseok replaces those delicious sweatpants with marginally more professional jeans, as ripped as they are. It’s also easier to slip into the natural rhythm and rapport you have when you’re being filmed- it’s not that you’re ever any faker on camera, but it’s just an unthinking response to the sight of them, your body switching from Normal mode to Work mode. Taehyung readjusts the camera rig you have looped around your body while Jimin sorts out Hoseok, night vision lens pointed towards your faces, before letting you go.

“Ready?” You ask, glancing at your co-host. Hoseok seems less enthusiastic than usual, and you internally cringe, contrition shooting through you at how you’ve managed to dampen his mood because you’ve spent the whole day being distant.

“Ready,” Hoseok says, subdued. Your face crumples and you reach out for his hand, squeezing his fingers, trying to communicate a silent apology for something he isn’t even aware of.

“I won’t abandon you, okay?” You keep your fingers tangled with his as you speak and grip them hard. “There’s a lot of scary stuff in this castle and I promise I won’t leave your side.”

Hoseok pauses but then squeezes your hand back, and he seems to brighten, even though he’s still a little dimmed. “I know,” he says. “I know you won’t.”

Even though he says that, he spends less time clinging onto you than normal. It’s probably not noticeable to the average onlooker, and with how most of the footage is going to be cut later, you’re certain your audience won’t notice either- but while Hoseok still screams and jumps at things, he seems to separate from you as soon as the fear has passed. He doesn’t linger or keep hold of you, even when he seems visibly shaken, eyes wide as you ascend the stairs and hear what sounds like singing even though there’s no one else here- it’s probably just wind whistling through the ancient corridors and walls of the castle, but you know that Hoseok is terrified.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” You look over your shoulder and proffer your hand but Hoseok just shakes his head.

“I’m fine.” He’s clinging onto the banister, both hands white knuckled around the metal railing. “I’m fine.”

Even though you’ve been the one who’s been avoiding touching him all day, it hurts when he says that, as hypocritical as you know you’re being. You draw your hand back to your side and don’t offer again after that, although you still pat him soothingly when he instinctively grabs you later, jumping at a clattering noise in the distance. You’re not easily spooked, but Colchester Castle definitely has some weird vibes, so if you’re feeling like this, Hoseok must feel even more scared than normal.

At one point you walk through a spider web and flinch in surprise when you feel it on your face, jumping backwards and swiping at your face. Hoseok is immediately there, eyes wide as he stares at you, immediately protective despite his fear. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Uh, it was just a spider web,” you admit, chagrined. “I overreacted, sorry.”

Hoseok nods and immediately backs off, giving you room as he turns around. You can’t help the hurt that flashes across your face as soon as he looks away.

“Critical mass,” Jimin mutters to Taehyung, who nods sagely.

The worst and weirdest moment of the night actually happens once the episode is over. Hoseok is oddly quiet as you both get ready for bed, not talking to you through the open bathroom door as he meticulously massages cream into his face like he normally does- and once he flicks the light off, plunging the room into blue tinged darkness, you’re stunned as you watch his silhouette slide into his own bed instead of into yours.

He’s never slept in his own bed after a supernatural filming. Even after your first paranormal themed episode together, when you’d still been mostly strangers. He’d been bashful and hesitant despite how obviously scared he was, asking if he could sleep in your bed, and of course you’d said yes, wanting to do anything you could to soothe him and help him feel safe. So the fact he’s not sleeping in your bed now, it’s- it’s- it’s not right.

The only light in the room is from the tiny, faint red numbers of the digital clock, and you watch as time trickles slowly by- you stay awake for what feels like hours, laying on your side as you stare towards Hoseok’s bed. Your eyes adjust to the near darkness, room painted in low-contrast sfumato, and you can see how Hoseok is turned away from you; he’s unnaturally still and silent, and you know he hasn’t fallen asleep either, too scared and wound up to drift off.

Outside, a vehicle rumbles past, and you can see how Hoseok stiffens at the noise of the loose fan belt, a high squeal that’s admittedly startling after the silence of the night. The shine of the headlights through the drawn curtains is muted but still more than enough to throw the room into brief, sharp relief, the tension in Hoseok’s shoulders screaming out to you- you can’t stand it anymore and you slip out from under your blankets so that you can make your way across the dark room.

Hoseok turns when he hears you stumble over something on the floor- you think it’s a pair of socks- and makes a little noise of surprise when you throw back the corner of his duvet so you can slide in next to him.

“Y/n?” He sounds tired, but still fully awake- you were right, he’s been struggling to sleep.

“Hobi,” you say. “Why are you over here, all alone like this?”

You can barely make out the details of his features, as curved towards each other as you are; you can see the faint darkness where his hollows of his eyes are, his pretty mouth nothing more than an undefined line in the muted room.

“I- I didn’t want to disturb you.” His voice is a quiet, unhappy murmur, and you feel your heart break at the dejection in his tone.

“Oh, Hoseok.” You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs back and forth over his cheeks; you can feel the tension in his face, how he must be frowning. You might not be able to see everything all too well, but you’re more than familiar enough with Hoseok’s face to know where the furrow between his brows is, and press a little kiss to it. “My Hobi,” you say, and start to litter kisses over his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids, the tip of his nose. “My baby. My darling.”

You keep touching your lips to his skin, wanting his unhappiness and fear to fade away, whispering pet names between each kiss. You tilt your lips against his chin, and Hoseok makes a little noise before his hands come up to grasp your wrists, pulling them away from where they’re still cupping his jaw. You go still, eyes widening, even if he can’t see it. “Hoseok?”

“Did I- did I do something wrong?” He sounds unsure. “You were avoiding me all day- I thought you didn’t want- I thought you wanted me to leave you alone,” he says, and you can hear guilt in his voice. “I thought I’d scared you off somehow.”

You make a little, unhappy noise. “No, baby, no,” you say. You shake your head, faces still so close from your kisses that your noses brush, but you don’t pull away- you need him to know that it’s not his fault. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t that at all.”

“Then what was it?” His grip slips away from around your wrists to slide his fingers between yours instead, holding your hands. “Tell me.”

You go still. His tone is so imploring: he wants to know what’s wrong, so he can fix it, make it better. “Hoseok.” Your voice is quiet. “You’re my best friend, Hoseok.”

“And you’re mine,” he says, squeezing your hands. Your heart feels small and feeble in your chest, a weak little thing that swells up at Hoseok’s words, but immediately shrinks again in fear. “You can tell me anything.”

“You’re my best friend, Hoseok,” you repeat. Hoseok goes silent. “You’re my best friend, and I-” You take a deep breath, trying to fill your lungs, get some oxygen flowing through your terrified heart, taking bellows to a dying ember, trying to grow it into a flame. “Honestly, I’m just selfish, Hoseok,” you say. “I’m just- being your best friend is already everything to me- but I’m so selfish-”

“Y/n.” Hoseok’s voice is a hush.

“I’m in love with you, Hoseok.”

There. You said it.

You can feel how Hoseok stiffens, how his fingers go utterly still in yours as you continue to speak.

“I’m in love with you, and I was just so scared you’d realise how head over heels I’ve always been for you and you’d end our friendship because everything I feel is just so much, and I just needed space today, I needed space to try and get my head straight and not scare you away by making things weird, and I’m sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I never want to hurt you, Hoseok. I’m sorry. I love you. Please don’t hate me.”

You take in a deep shuddering breath once all the words have spilled out of you, so much air. It’s out in the world, now, and you can’t take it back.

As the seconds tick by, the initial heady rush of terror starts to fade and is instead replaced with resignation, unsurprised at how Hoseok is still frozen against you. He’s deathly silent. He’s probably mentally drafting the nicest way to gently let you down, always so kind and lovely, so wonderful, your Hoseok.

A twinge shoots through your heart as you mentally correct yourself- he’s not yours, and he doesn’t want to be. You should have just kept your mouth shut.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. Your voice is a miserable whisper. “You’re just so easy to love.”

You try to pull your hands out of his so you can slink back to your bed and wallow in your misery, but Hoseok just tightens his grip. You tug again, a little more insistent, and this time he lets go- but before you can roll out of his bed he’s grabbing your face, long, beautiful fingers splaying over your cheeks and jaw, locking you in place as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Y/n.” His voice is uncharacteristically serious, low. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Your eyes widen. “You’re-”

You’re cut off when Hoseok presses his mouth to yours. He’s kissed you before, on your forehead, your cheeks, the bare skin of your shoulder when you wear the sundress he likes so much- but you’ve never felt his heart shaped lips against yours, never felt them soft and warm as they catch your own, and it’s so much. He keeps drawing his mouth across yours, catching your lips between his own, tongue pressing out to swipe across them, and you shiver as the kiss slowly turns slick and wet, even as it stays so tender.

His hands wrap around your waist and he rolls over you, pinning you down with his weight as you keep kissing and kissing and kissing. Your hands are in his hair while his cup your face, holding you like you’re something delicate and precious, palms warm against your skin. You don’t separate to breathe, keeping your lips locked as the kisses turn open-mouthed, Hoseok’s tongue gliding against yours, the lingering taste of your shared toothpaste mingling with his saliva- you shiver underneath him when he nips at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue, and you crane your head forward to press further into his mouth, kisses slow and deep, and by the time you finally separate, you feel dizzy and breathless.

“Hobi,” you breathe out. “Hobi, turn the light on, I want to see you.”

Hoseok leans over you to flick on the bedside lamp, illuminating you both with its bright light- you can see how kiss swollen his gorgeous mouth is, how the sheen of your saliva on his flushed lips glows gold from the lamplight, how his hair is a mess from how you’ve been running your hands through it. He looks like your best friend, and also nothing like that at all, something familiar and unfamiliar all at once. Hoseok, forever changed by the touch of your lips.

“My baby.” He’s smiling at you, all warmth and fondness, and you squirm underneath him, embarrassed by the weight of his affection for you. “Y/n. I love you too.”

You probably shouldn’t be surprised, considering how Hoseok has just kissed you breathless, but you still feel your heart stutter in your chest. You’re staring up at him with your wide eyes as he bends forward again- he mimics what you did earlier, trailing kisses over your forehead and cheekbones and nose before he kisses one corner of your mouth, then the other, then your cupid’s bow, then just under the swell of your bottom lip. “I love you, love you, love you,” he says, punctuating each kiss with the repeated confession, as if each time he says it it’s not punching the air out of your lungs.

“Hoseok?”

“Yes?” He’s still smiling, those warm little creases under his eyes as he looks at you, every inch of him just screaming out happiness. You did that. He’s happy because of you.

“Do you- do you remember when we first met? Years ago?” You don’t want to break the moment, but he’s never mentioned the umbrella thing and you’ve never asked before and you have a burning desire to know if he can recall-

“Do you mean the first time we actually met, or the first time you officially introduced yourself to me? I remember both,” Hoseok says. “I always knew you’d get the job. Besides, if you hadn’t, you would have had to keep the umbrella,” he adds, smile edging into something a little cheeky. “And then there would have been a pretty girl out there thinking about me every time it rained.”

Your eyes widen before you hide your face in your hands, overwhelmed at the idea that Hoseok had thought that you were pretty before he’d even known you; he coos at you and pulls your hands away to reveal your flustered expression, trapping them against the pillow so you can't hide your face again. Hoseok’s smile has faded into something a little more serious, but no less loving, and although you feel open and naked and vulnerable right now, it’s not because you think he’s judging you.

“You never said anything, so I thought you’d forgotten,” you admit. “But from the second you smiled at me as you handed me that umbrella, I knew I was a goner. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Hoseok.”

It’s not often that you see Hoseok look like this, his eyes so serious and deep, but his entire face is still so soft, smiling. “Me, too,” he confesses. “Me too. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to risk our friendship and I love you too much to want to give that up.”

The smile that splits your face is so wide it almost hurts. “I love you,” you say again, for the sheer novelty of hearing it out loud, seeing how Hoseok lights up- the fact you can say it without fear of his reaction, because he loves you, too. He loves you. He’s in love with you. “I love you, Hoseok, I-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing your words of love into his curved mouth, the two of you smiling and laughing as your lips come together again and again- but when he presses his tongue to your lower lip and you part them, he licks into your mouth in a way that’s almost lewd, warm and wet, and you shiver as you think about exactly how long that tongue is.

Hoseok still has his hands around your wrists from before, and you feel how his grip tightens imperceptibly when he feels you tremble underneath him. Your cheeks feel warm when he pulls back and you wonder if your blush is visible, but Hoseok seems intent on other things, dipping his head forward to catch your earlobe between his teeth for a sharp moment, nipping it before licking it with his hot, wet tongue. Your entire body shudders as he starts to kiss down the side of your jaw, and you tilt your head to give him better access, gasping when he draws his tongue over the oversensitive skin of your neck; you can feel how he smiles against your skin before kissing your throat.

“Hobi,” you breathe, and then gasp when he draws the flat of his tongue over the hollow of your neck. Each teasing touch of his tongue and lips is trickling straight to your core, your panties growing wetter and wetter with your arousal. “Hobi, oh.”

“I’m going to worship you the way you deserve to be worshipped, princess,” he murmurs, lips moving against your collarbones as he speaks. “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long." He keeps kissing you between his words, punctuating them with sweeps of his tongue over your skin, and it's so much. "Hold still for me, baby, there you go.”

Hoseok releases your wrists and you flex your fingers but stay in that position, your hands palm up as they rest either side of your head. Hoseok leans back to stare at you underneath him, laid out for his gaze; you’re in an old t-shirt and faded pyjama bottoms, face bare, hair a haphazard mess where it rests against the pillow, but he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Like you’re draped in diamonds and gold and silks. He looks at you with reverence and love, like he wants to cherish you- but there’s also something deeper in those half-lidded eyes of his, like he wants to swallow you whole.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes. You bite your lip, swallowing down a needy noise at the tone of his voice, hands clenching into fists where they rest beside your head.

“Hobi, please,” you say. “I need you.”

“You have me.” He takes one of his hands and slowly pushes the material of your shirt up, dragging his palm over your skin as he reveals the softness of your stomach. He lets the material bunch just under your breasts, ignoring how your nipples have hardened and stand out through the thin cotton of your old tee, running his fingers over your sides; you buck a little underneath him, sucking in a breath at how his touch is almost ticklish. “So sensitive.”

“You haven’t even touched me properly yet,” you say, a little snarky despite your breathlessness, but then you’re cut off when Hobi’s hands slide under the t-shirt to cup your breasts, palms and fingers cool against your overheated skin. Your pussy clenches when he flicks his thumbs over each of your hardened buds, running the pads of his fingertips over them, and you arch into his touch.

“So sensitive,” he says again, a little smile behind his words as he watches how your chest rises and falls under his hands, sucking in air when he pinches your nipples between his fingers. “Do you like that, baby?”

“Like it when you touch me,” you sigh. Hoseok smiles, flashing his teeth at you before leaning forward to kiss you again. He coaxes you to lift up a little so he can pull off your shirt, smoothing your hair when it gets ruffled by the motion, but before you can smile up at him for his tenderness, he lowers the heat of his mouth over one of your nipples and you gasp.

One of your hands flies up to grasp his hair when he circles the bud with his tongue, and you let out a low moan as he continues to lave attention on it, flattening his tongue and dragging it over the sensitive flesh. He alternates between your breasts, using his hands and fingers on whichever he’s not suckling between his lips; goosebumps erupt over your skin, and you keep biting back whines and gasps each time he does something particularly wicked with his mouth.

You feel so, so wet, arousal pooling between your legs, and you need him to touch you there. But he's slow, taking his time until your chest is heaving and your skin is flushed and your nipples are slick from the wetness of his mouth, his fingers just the right side of rough whenever he pinches the hardened peaks, and you mewl beneath him.

You’re just about to beg Hoseok to give you more when he finally lifts his mouth from your nipple, and you go tense as he starts to trail his lips down the valley of your breasts, across the sensitive skin of your stomach, hands roaming over the rest of you; he slides down the bed until he’s resting between your legs, and all you can think about is how close his mouth is to where you want it to be.

You’re so wet that you’ve soaked right through your panties, a touch of dampness clinging to the flimsy material of your pyjama bottoms too, and you shiver at the way Hoseok seems to drink down the sight before he hooks his fingers into the loose elastic waistband, and starts to inch them down. He’s moving torturously slowly, kissing your bare legs as he reveals your skin, touching his lips to your thighs, your calves, your ankles.

He does the same again with your panties, even more slowly; palms sliding up the side of your legs so he can curl his fingers around the fabric of your underwear and peel it off you. You shiver when your pussy is finally revealed, your inner thighs slick with your arousal and cooling from the touch of the air- Hoseok continues to suck and kiss trails across your legs even as he stares at your naked, weeping core, his gaze heavy as he drinks down the sight.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, running his fingers over your bare skin as you tremble beneath him. “So gorgeous and perfect. Look at you, all laid out, just for me. I love you.”

“Hoseok,” you whimper. He’s still entirely clothed while you’re naked and bare, and you feel utterly debauched in comparison to him, the sheen of his saliva still shining over your body, nipples hard, your pussy lips flushed from arousal, every part of you begging for more- meanwhile he’s still got his surprisingly cute matching pyjama set on. The contrast is making your dizzy. He cups your foot in one of his hands, turning his head to press a kiss to your inner ankle, and your toes curl. “Please, baby, I need you.”

“I’ve got you, princess,” he murmurs. He drops one last kiss to your ankle before shifting towards your canting hips; his breath curls out over your core and you shudder, another flood of arousal shooting through you, your cunt clenching as Hoseok stares at it shamelessly. “Look at you,” he says, reverent. “So pretty and wet for me.”

“Hobi,” you whine. You bite back a gasp as he hooks your fingers behind your knees and forces your legs apart, spreading you open, entirely helpless underneath his hungry gaze. You watch in wonder as he lets his tongue curl out of his mouth, looking sinfully dirty as he does- but then you let out a whine when he turns his head away from your pussy and licks the inner seam of your thigh instead. Your hips jump at the sensation, your skin so sensitive from the attention that he’s lavishing on you, but it’s not where you want his mouth to be, even if the lingering kisses he’s giving to your inner thighs feel good. “Hoseok, please.”

He hums indulgently, and you’re about to start begging again when he purses his lips and blows out a puff of air over your flushed lower lips; the sudden chill against your damp folds has you tensing, and before you can gather your wits Hoseok drags his hot, wet tongue up the seam of your pussy to gather the wetness there. You cry out from the sudden explosion of sensation when he repeats the motion but presses past your lower lips to tongue at your slit, lapping up the juices at your entrance before circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, your spine arching as your hips buck. “Oh, God, Hoseok, yes, right there.”

He slides one of his arms over your stomach, trapping you, holding you down as you try to cant your hips towards his mouth. You sob with pleasure as he continues to drink down your juices, leisurely licking at the most sensitive parts of you, in no rush at all. “Hobi, please,” you beg. “Please, I need more.”

Hoseok turns his head to lightly bite your inner thigh, your leg twitching at the sensation, surprised at how pleasurable it is. “Ssh,” he murmurs. “I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time. I want to savour it,” he says, and you let out a whine when he dips his head back down and starts to lap at your clit again, his dark eyes watching each of your reactions, the way you writhe and curl your toes each time he dips back down to your entrance, pressing his tongue inside you. “You taste so good, baby. Your pretty little cunt is so perfect.”

You whine at the praise, writhing when each swipe of his tongue over you is fanning the flames of your arousal higher and higher, and you can feel how the coil inside you is tightening, so close to reaching your peak. Hoseok’s still eating you out, nice and slow, and you’ve never felt an orgasm creep up on you like this- you moan as Hoseok finally buries his face in your pussy, tongue sliding from your slit, to your clit, over and over.

It’s so, so good, and then you watch as he slides one of his long fingers inside you and curls it inside you just right- “I’m gonna cum, Hoseok, I’m- oh!”

The intensity of your orgasm hits you like a freight train, exploding from deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed and your toes curl as you cum and cum and cum, Hoseok keeping his mouth on you the whole time, your entire body shuddering as waves of pleasure wash over you, wetness flooding out of your cunt that he drinks down eagerly.

The build up was slow, and the come down is slow, too, aftershocks rippling through your body for longer than any orgasm you’ve had before, and Hoseok keeps licking and sucking you through it all until you’re almost crying out from the overstimulation and you have to push his head away. The aftershocks are still rippling through your body as Hoseok rises, your pussy clenching each time, and you feel boneless and strung out- but you know Hoseok isn’t done with you yet.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he says. You reach out for him and he comes so easily, fitting himself between your arms. His lips and chin shine with evidence of your arousal and when you pull him in for a kiss you can taste yourself across his tongue, a noise bubbling up at the back of your throat when you feel how slick his lips are against yours.

“Wanna make you cum too,” you say, your voice weak after the strength of that orgasm; you take in a deep breath, willing the oxygen to bring some energy back into your body. “Baby. Hoseok.”

“Mm.” He kisses you again. “You will, baby, don’t worry, you’re always so good for me.”

Your fingers fumble when you try to unbutton his shirt, but when Hoseok laughs, it’s not patronising at all; he just sounds fond. He takes over, deft fingers making quick work of the shirt before he throws it aside, revealing the slim line of his body to you. He’s beautiful and lean, nipples dark, skin golden, with a dark trail of hair that dips down into his pyjama bottoms- your eyes zero in on the way Hoseok’s loose pyjamas do nothing to hide his erection, the hard strain of his cock against the fabric, and you let out a little sigh of happiness that you’re finally getting to see what you’ve been desperately staring at all day. When you reach out for him your fingers barely brush his skin, and you make a greedy little noise, hungry for more.

“Need you,” you say. You want Hobi inside you, splitting you open, as close to each other as you can physically be. “Clothes off now.”

Hobi lets out a loud laugh, and you melt at the utter joy in the sound, how his face is so open and bright.

“God, I love you,” he says, before unceremoniously shedding the offending garments. He wiggles his hips in an entirely unsexy manner, and you end up laughing too when he gets one of his legs caught and has to kick the pyjama bottoms off in an entirely graceless way. You’re still letting out quiet giggles even as Hoseok is finally bare in front of you, beautiful and unabashed in his nakedness, and you love him.

You feel like liquid sunlight, overflowing with happiness; you’ve never laughed like this with anyone before, both naked yet still somehow amused, flipping from all-consuming arousal one second to laughter the next, but it just feels natural. Because it’s Hoseok, and everything feels so easy with him.

“I love you too,” you say, and then, when your eyes drop to his cock, you say: “God, you’re beautiful.”

His cock is gorgeous, curving up towards the ceiling, a drop of precum beaded at the tip; it’s not completely straight, hanging just a little to the left, but it’s Hoseok, so it’s perfect. He wraps his fingers around your hips and you let out a little squeal when he tugs you down the bed towards him so that your legs are dangling off the side and your hips are practically flush; his cock bobs when he moves and you shiver with how close it is to your heated core. Just like the rest of him, it’s long and lean and gorgeous, and you can’t wait to have it inside you. Although-

“Don’t I get to taste you?” You can’t help but say this with a pout, and Hoseok’s face splits into a wide smile.

“Next time, baby,” he promises. “Tonight is for you.”

Next time. The realisation that tonight is just one of many, just the start of an entirely new chapter in your life with Hoseok- that you’ll still be friends, best friends, but also more- settles inside you, warm and soft and safe. Your face creases into a smile and you slide your hands up Hoseok’s body, over his stomach and chest, touching all the skin you can, relishing in the fact that you’ll grow familiar with it all in a way that you never could have dreamed of.

“You’re always so good to me,” you say.

“You deserve it, princess,” he replies. You tilt your hips towards him and you see how his eyes darken at the motion, tenderness swallowed by lust, and your body lights up like a livewire in preparation, ready to feel him push inside you. You’re already loose and wet from your first orgasm, but you don’t protest when Hoseok starts to run his fingers over the seam of your thigh; he presses straight in with two fingers, your body opening up for him so easily, and you gasp at how deep they move inside you, so long and pretty.

“There, Hobi, right there.” He’s clearly not trying to bring you to orgasm again but he still listens to your directions, keeping the motions of his hands the same, fingers rubbing over your inner walls so perfectly.

You can hear it, noises slick and dirty before he pulls them out, and you watch as he uses your arousal to slick up his cock, rubbing your juices over his hard length. It’s lewd, how he does it, pumping himself as he spreads it over his cock, wet noises vulgar and obscene, shooting straight to your core; you don’t think you’ve ever seen or heard anything so arousing in your life, the way Hoseok has his lip caught between his teeth as he looks at you, cock stiff between his legs as he runs his fingers over it.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper. “Hoseok, fuck.”

You arch your back when he grips his cock in one hand, guiding himself towards you- but rather than pressing into your entrance he runs his throbbing length back and forth through your lips, gathering even more of the wetness there, the slide so easy and smooth. It’s the most delicious, glancing pressure against your clit, not enough to satisfy, but enough to have you gasping again, the way you can feel the silken heat of his cock against you.

“Hoseok, please.” You don’t attempt to hide the desperation in your voice. “I need you.”

Hoseok lets out a guttural groan at your words; he drinks in how blown your pupils are, the flush from your orgasm still visible over your chest, the way your fingers are clutching the bedsheets, white cotton tangled in your grasp. “Anything you want, baby,” he says, and finally, finally, he grasps his length and tilts it to your entrance. He rests there for a second, the tip barely touching you, and you see how he steels himself as he grasps your hips, before he starts to sink into you.

“Oh!” He fills you so well, inch by torturous inch, your body opening up for him so easily it’s like his cock was made to fill you; once he bottoms out you can feel how snug he is inside you, cockhead pressed against your cervix, and you shiver. “Oh, yes, Hoseok, so good.”

He stays still for one long, drawn out moment, before his hands slip off your waist and he reaches for yours. You entwine your fingers with his, staring up at him as he leans forward and kisses you; the motion has his cock shifting inside you and you whine a little against his lips, before biting off a gasp when he rocks his hips forwards. The motion is fluid and rolling, and Hoseok sets an unhurried pace, languidly filling you up with his cock, over and over and over.

The pleasure that’s growing in you is slow and relaxed. You’re not chasing your orgasms- you’re revelling in the closeness, the connection, the slip of skin against skin, how Hoseok is filling you up, how you’re drawing him in. You end up staring into each other’s eyes, Hoseok’s forehead pressed to yours so there’s nothing in your vision but him; you only break eye contact when one particularly deep roll of his hips sends a shudder through you, your eyes squeezing shut as you gasp.

“Feel so good, baby,” Hoseok murmurs. “So good for me.”

You make a noise of confusion when he lets go of your fingers and leans back, straightening up, but then he hooks his hands under your knees and you lift your hips; you drape your legs over his shoulders, arched towards him, lower body lifting off the mattress. Hoseok drives forward and you immediately gasp at how he hits your sweet spot straight on, the change of angle forcing the head of his cock to brush the top of your inner walls, each drag of the blunt head sending shocks of pleasure shooting through you.

“Wanna feel you cum around my cock, princess,” Hoseok says, and you shudder. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, Hobi, yes- faster- oh-”

Hoseok starts to ramp up the pace, snapping his hips into yours with the sound of slapping skin, and you can feel how you’re starting to tighten around him, pussy clenching with each thrust of his hot cock inside you. “Gonna cum for you, Hobi,” you say. “So close, fuck.”

He takes one of his hands off your waist and slides three fingers over your clit, and you cry out with pleasure as he starts to rub at your bundle of nerves in tight circles; the added stimulation is just what you need, and you tumble over the edge into your second orgasm of the night. Hoseok moans when he feels how your cunt clenches around him, rippling tightness around his cock, and your eyes fall shut as your mouth falls open and you rock your hips into the sensation, grinding against Hoseok to prolong the pleasure, and he continues to snap his hips forward.

You go lax, almost limp, but Hoseok is still hard inside you, so you try your best to keep your back arched towards him; the fluid roll of his thrusts is starting to fall out of rhythm as he approaches his own peak, and although your pussy is crying out at the oversensitivity, you try to match his pace, canting your hips towards Hoseok each time he drives forward.

“Want your cum all over me, Hobi,” you say. “Want you to cum on my tits-”

Hoseok curses, composure slipping entirely for the first time all night, and you feel how he fumbles his rhythm before he catches himself. His thrusts are fast and choppy before he pulls out and drops your hips to the mattress; you whine at the sudden emptiness, but then he’s shuffling his knees onto the bed and he has his hand wrapped around his slick length, jerking himself hard and fast as you arch your back and push your chest towards him.

“So fucking beautiful,” he says through gritted teeth. “So pretty, baby- fuck!”

He gasps in air before he lets out one long, drawn out moan, and then there’s hot cum splattering across your breasts, whiteness painting itself across your skin. Hoseok continues to pump himself, cock letting out more ropes of cum, and you can’t help but let out a noise of satisfaction at the sight, lifting your hands to run over his hip bones and waist and flexing thighs, watching the way Hoseok’s face draws together as he rides out his own orgasm, until his hand falls away from his cock and he’s slumping forwards over you, panting.

You hum, reaching for him and pulling him down so you can brush your lips against his. “You’re so hot when you cum,” you say. “I could watch you cum all day.”

Hoseok lets out a breathless laugh before he kisses you again, properly this time- you’re content to keep kissing regardless of the cum that’s starting to cool on your chest, but Hoseok is insistent on being a gentleman and excuses himself to the bathroom to get a towel so he can clean you up. When he drags the damp towel over your skin, he’s so soft and gentle, although you still shiver a little when the rough fabric drags over your nipples; he bends down and kisses you in apology.

You feel warm and small and soft, watching as Hoseok walks around the bed, still naked; the paltry lamp light is still more than enough for you to see every line of his beauty, the way each of his muscles shifts under his skin as he walks and moves, bending over to gather some of the discarded clothes from the floor. You sit up and lift your arms so he can help you back into your thin t-shirt, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him with a firm press of your lips, before he shimmies back into his boxers, though you personally don’t think he needs them.

When you finally settle down for the night you both curled up on your bed- because Hoseok’s is rumpled and sweaty from your previous exertions- and nestle up gratefully under the sheets, warm from the weight of the duvet and Hoseok spooning you from behind.

“I love you,” he murmurs, nosing at the side of your neck.

“I love you too,” you reply, and then end up giggling a little, stomach jumping under Hoseok’s hand. “I need to buy Namjoon a thank you slash apology gift when we get home, you know,” you say thoughtfully. “He had to put up with me having a meltdown about you, and it turns out he was right.”

Hoseok brushes his nose over your ear. “Jin kept making pretty blasé comments to me about us,” he tells you. “But he does that about most things, so.”

You hum lightly before pressing back further against Hoseok, who tightens his hold around you in response. “I guess they knew before we did,” you say. “We’ve been acting like a couple for a long time, to be fair.” Thinking back on it, it was pretty obvious, but hindsight is 20/20, as they say.

The next morning, as always, you wake before Hoseok- and this time when you feel the hardness pressed into your ass, you don’t panic. You do what you always do and slide carefully out of Hoseok’s arms, but unlike every other morning, he doesn’t wake up to an empty bed. Instead, he wakes up with a small gasp to the sight of you with your mouth around his cock, your eyes wide and innocent as you stare up at him; you work him up while he’s still half-asleep and slow, swallowing down his cock until he cums down your throat. You litter kisses over his hips and thighs, smiling into his skin as he comes down from his peak, his pupils blown.

“Morning, Hobi,” you say, kissing the divot below his hip bones. “I love you.”

“Come here,” he says, voice still a rasp from his sleep, eyes hungry as he reaches for you.

When the two of you eventually stumble downstairs for breakfast, Jimin and Taehyung are already there; you’re much later than normal but neither of the boys seems to notice anything out of the ordinary, Taehyung asking Hoseok to pass the pepper mill as soon as you’ve sat down.

Taehyung is enthusiastically grinding pepper over his bacon and eggs when Jimin pipes up. “You know, the ghosts in this B&B apparently like to watch the guests while they try to sleep and make noises to keep them up,” he says conversationally. “You didn’t happen to notice anything out of the ordinary in your room, did you? Taehyung and I could have sworn that we heard moaning or something at some point, but I think it must have been a trick of our minds.”

You and Hoseok exchange a quick glance. “Uh, nope, can’t say that we did,” you say, and Hoseok nods emphatically in agreement.

Jimin pauses. He squints at you, before turning to Taehyung and pulling the pepper mill out of his hands to get his attention. “I told you it was going to happen soon,” Jimin says. “They finally hit critical mass and confessed. I knew that moaning wasn’t from ghosts.”

“And there’s no mess to clean up, even if we didn’t win the betting pool.” Taehyung sounds pleased. “Can you pass the salt now please?”

You watch incredulously as both boys continue their business as usual, Taehyung swapping the pepper mill for the salt grinder while Jimin opens a tiny jar of raspberry jam for his toast.

You turn to Hoseok, scandalised at the idea that a) your friends/co-workers heard you last night and b) there’s apparently some sort of office bet about your relationship with Hoseok, only to find that the man in question has a look of alarm on his face.

“Do you think the ghosts were watching us last night?” He has an expression that’s a mix of affronted and also scared. “That’s dirty.”

“No, baby, I don’t think we had ghostly voyeurs in our room,” you say, stroking Hoseok’s hand with reassuring fingers, before you frown and look back at the other two boys. “I hate our friends. You have a betting pool?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty big,” Taehyung says. “I’m not sure who’s won the money, I’d have to check the spreadsheet when we get back home.”

“I bet Jin was the one who came up with it, wasn’t he?” Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look, but neither of them say anything, which is more than enough to answer your question. “I’m going to shove a wedge of parmesan down his throat when we get home and see how he likes it.”

“I love you,” Hoseok says.

“I love you too,” you reply, turning your head to accept the kiss he gives you.

“You’re so cute,” Jimin says.

“Why parmesan?” Taehyung asks, before twisting the salt grinder with enough gusto that he pulls the bottom off and salt goes cascading over his breakfast. “Oh, oops. Do you think they’ll let me have more eggs?”

Your thank you/apology gift to Namjoon is a tin of Scottish shortbread that you find in a cute tourist shop, although when you find out he’s actually the proud winner of 50% of the betting pool, you take the shortbread back for yourself and Hoseok instead.

When Yoongi arrives at his desk to the sight of you sitting in Hoseok’s lap and feeding him between kisses, he just rolls his eyes, mutters ‘finally’, and makes no further comments. You laugh into Hoseok’s mouth and allow Jungkook to steal a piece of shortbread on his way past, too busy kissing your boyfriend to care.

“You can have the last bit of shortbread,” you say, and Hoseok grins up at you.

“You’re just saying that because I ate you out this morning,” he says, and you giggle.

“I can’t believe you just made me listen to that with my own two ears. I’m in hell.” Yoongi sounds so tired. “I think I preferred it when the two of you were dancing around each other. Go back to doing that.”

“No can do, Yoongles,” you sing-song. “I love Hoseok and I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

“I love you too,” Hoseok says, looking up at you with bright eyes, and you giggle before dipping down to kiss him again.

“Everyone else knew before you did,” Yoongi mutters, but neither of you pay him any mind.

#jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts x reader #jhope fluff #hoseok fluff #bts #jhope #jung hoseok #joy.masterlist

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ladyfluffbutt · 4 years ago

Text

Amalgams didn’t start out as monstrous beasts. They start out as every normal troll; as whelps. Each Amalgam had to be raised, thus Gunmar left it to various Gum-Gums he trusted to look after an Amalgam whelp. This would allow a bond to form and allow the Gum-Gum to influence and command the creatures.

Aarghaumont didn’t originally have an Amalgam charge, not that he minded. He’d heard horror stories from those who had been dealing with the creatures. One pair of Gum-Gums had to take care of Amalgam triplets together, otherwise they went into a tantrum and screeched like banshees.

Others spoke of when the creatures went through their mutations and the violent tendencies that came with each episode. A number of whelps died from self-inflicted wounds. Others died from complications of the mutations. One Gum-Gum had actually been killed by one of the larger whelps during an especially volatile episode.

This whelp Gunmar decided to put under Aarghaumont’s care, much to the Krubera’s distress. He of course knew better than to complain and readily accepted his new charge. When he went to collect her though, she wasn’t what he was expecting.

Small, whimpering, and in immense pain. She was one of the larger whelps yet she was tiny compared to him. Tiny, and clearly a Krubera troll like him, but also something else. Kitlar most likely, considering the teeny crystal bumps starting to form on her back.

He’d tried to approach only to nearly be stuck by one of the bolts of lightning that shot out from her body. Well now he knew how she killed her last Caregiver. After her episode subsided he cautiously made his way over to her and laid with her.

She huddled up against him seeking comfort.

Yes Aarghaumont wasn’t originally given an Amalgam charge, but now…well he didn’t mind the idea of having one nearly as much as he once did.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

🦇 Wooo boy I didn’t intend to write nearly as much as I did but when I get on a roll, I tend to word vomit. Yep, that’s little Irizhia. For a bulk of her early life she was raised by the Gum-Gum general. He wasn’t quite sure about it starting out but man did this little bright eyed mutant worm her way into his heart.

Close ups of each below…

#art #inkworks #trollhunters #trollhunters irizhia #irizhia #aaarrrgh #aarrrgh #aarghaumont #aargh

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seraphanangelica · 4 years ago

Note

Can I please have scenarios or headcanons on how bnha characters (any that you like) would handle dealing with a ghost with their s/o who totally believes in the supernatural? Thank you in advance

I absolutely love this idea! As a firm believer of the supernatural myself, there was absolutely no way I could delay this response. So here you go!

How They And Their S/O Would Deal With Ghosts

💥This guy has only seen or heard about ghosts and spirits from horror movies. That’s all he cares about them. If they’re not in a movie, they have no existence. Of course, every time he says something along those lines, you roll your eyes and laugh to yourself at his blatant lack of attention to the supernatural.

💥You’ve tried, many times to prove just how real they were. And every single time it would go like this:

💥”I’m telling you, Katsuki, I’ve had experiences with them. You just don’t think they’re real becuase you haven’t.”

💥”Your experiences are just things you don’t want to give logical explanations to, dumbass.”

💥His point is proved further when nothing happens. And nothing happened for days after the last time you two had the repetitive conversation.

💥One day, as Katsuki woke up before you, he got out of bed and proceeded to go about his completely non-paranormal life. After giving you a light kiss on your forehead, he went downstairs to start preparing breakfast.

💥He stopped mid-stair though, as he heard another pair of feet pattering down the stairs behind him at a much quicker and softer pace. At first he thought it was you that had gotten up earlier than usual to spend more time with him in the mornings. He turned around to greet you with a smirk, his face falling slightly when he saw no one around.

💥Paying it no mind, he finished descending the stairs, and continued into the kitchen.

💥In the middle of sautéing vegetables, Katsuki reached out to grab the bottle of olive oil that sat on the counter to his left. He froze mid reach as he saw the barstool behind him rotate as if someone were sitting there out of the corner of his eye.

💥”Oh hell, no.” He still refused to take into account anything you’ve said about the matter.

💥Twenty minutes later, you were downstairs and eating breakfast, in the barstool next to the one that moved. You watched in curiosity as Katsuki leaned against the counter in front of you, crimson eyes darting from the empty seat then to you, then back again.

💥You were concerned, to say the least. “Katsuki, are you alright? You’re acting weird. Come sit down.”

💥He only shook his head and took a deep breath, looking you in the eyes. “Tell me about everything you know about ghosts. Now.”

💥And so you did. You told him everything you’ve been trying to tell him since you’ve known each other. The only difference was that this time, he was actually listening as if it were real and not a story.

💥When you finished he shook his head. “Look, I still don’t believe in this ‘ghost’ stuff, but-“ crash!

💥You’re heads snapped over to the source of the sound, your eyes settling on the plate that used to be next to Katsuki. It was now shattered on the floor, the pieces spreading out farther than the counter span. You knew Katsuki was freaking out but concealing it on the outside.

💥You couldn’t help but smile at your husband as his eyes still focused on the broken dish. “Don’t belive me now? We both know that dish was no where near the edge.”

💀Dabi would be disbelieving, but open to conversation. People talk about anime, right? It’s not real but makes for great small talk. He’d also be stupid. Very, very stupid.

💀The day he walked into the League of Villain’s hideout with an Ouija board under his arm, you thought he’d finally lost his mind.

💀”Are you crazy? Do you know the kind of stuff that happens when you use one of those things? You don’t know what you’re letting in!” You tried to reason with him, even coming up with ways to dispose of it without his knowledge. Unfortunately for you, he knew what you were up to and hid it.

💀”Oh come on. It’s just a little fun,” he teased you one night when he bagan setting it up in the center of your shared room. “What’s the worst that happen?”

💀”Asking ‘is anybody there’ is the stupidest thing you can do becuase thats inviting anything to come into the space. Secondly, you don’t know how to protect yourself against that kind of thing. The worst that can happen is possession, Dabi.” You scolded, leaning against the wall farthest from the board.

💀”Relax, Doll. I have someone in mind, actually. He didn’t really matter much, but I picked this from his wallet,” he reached into his pocket and tossed an ID card in your general direction. “See? Perfectly fine.”

💀It was not perfectly fine. You reluctantly joined him in the game, placing your fingers on the planchette, cringing with every subtle movement the burnt boy made. Because you didn’t want to do this in the first place, you let Dabi carry out the ‘ritual’.

💀As you would’ve guessed, the moment Dabi’s target was acquired, the planchette began moving, much to your dismay. Slowly, the letters formed a sentence. ‘You killed me.’

💀You shot a glare at your boyfriend. “What the hell did you do? Did you seriously just kill a man to contact him?”

💀He shrugged. “I caught the guy stealing from the convenience store, he had to go.”

💀”YOU STEAL FROM CONVENIENCE STORES!”

💀After you both said ‘goodbye’, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. It practically consumed you as the next hours passed, your eyes always finding themselves back to the abandoned board that still laid on the floor.

💀”WHAT THE FUCK!?” Dabi shouted from the bathroom, his voice one of surprise and confusion. You darted into the small room, expecting a prank left by Twice or blood left by Toga (it happens), and to be pretty honest, you were expecting this too. From the mirror, you could see eight distinct and parallel scratches on his back, too fresh and too deep not to be ignored.

💀Without a word, you bounded over to the closet and wrenched the doors apart with a set purpose. Pushing clothes out of the way, you pulled out an old chest you stored wherever you stayed. Opening the wooden box, you pulled out a match and a bundle of juniper and sage. Lighting the end of the dried herbs, and opening the nearest window, you let the smoke drift to all corners of the room.

💀Dabi watched in confusion and amusement as you walked towards him and started waving the herbs around him, cleansing him as well as the room.

💀”Y/N.”

💀“What, Dabi?”

💀”We should do it in a graveyard next time. This Halloween.”

💀”Fucking Samhain? Are you out of your goddamn mind?!”

💀He believes in ghosts now, so you had that going for ya.

🥦Midoriya would be skeptical about it. As someone who never rules out any possibilities, he has a wide range of knowledge towards that kind of thing. You never knew if someone had a quirk that could control the spirits of the dead.

🥦When you told Izuku that you see dead people, he honestly thought you were quoting The Sixth Sense. You were, in a way. In the same way you were being serious.

🥦You sat on the couch in the living room, remote in hand as you got ready to start a Marvel movie marathon when your fiancé got back from the store downtown. He got called in when someone was murdered just outside, appearing to have been trying to steal some food and magnets. Why someone would try to steal magnets from the convenience store was beyond you.

🥦Sighing, you settled into the cushions, and turned on the TV. Soon you began playing Netflix as you waited. You felt the couch dip next to you. No one was home but you, and you hadn’t heard Izuku get back yet. This was the time she came out.

🥦You faced the girl that sat next to you with a smile. “Looking for Izuku?” She nodded. “He’s not home right now, but you’re welcome to stay with me until he gets back if you like.” She thought for a minute, running a hand through her long hair, then nodded again.

🥦You scrolled through various shows until she pointed at one that sparked her interest. You began playing ‘Supernatural’, watching her reaction to each of the Winchester Brother’s ghostly adventures. “What, it’s not accurate? There’s got to be something that’s right.” You teased.

🥦The girl laughed, the sound never reaching your ears, and shook her head, continuing the show anyway.

🥦A couple episodes later, you heard the sound of keys turning in the lock, signaling your fiancé’s return. You turned to warn the girl, but she was already gone. She liked Izuku, but she was shy; something you learned upon meeting her. “He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, you know.” You told her in a low voice as Izuku stepped into the house.

🥦He gave you a smile. “Hey, sorry for being gone so long,” he held up a plastic bag full of sweets. “They gave this to me as a thank you for helping them, so now we have even more marathon snacks.” Setting the bag on the counter, he wrapped his arms around you, giving you a firm, loving kiss to your forehead.

🥦”It’s fine, Izu. You weren’t gone that long. I had plenty of company.” You returned the hug, your last statement directed to the girl who was now peeking in from the doorway.

🥦The movie marathon was a blast. You nerded out, quoting almost every line from every movie you watched that night. The girl warmed up to Izuku, you noticed, as she sat on the floor in front of him almost as if she were nervous to sit next to him.

🥦”You can sit next to him, kid. He won’t mind.” You told her. Both pairs of eyes snapped up at your speech.

🥦Izuku looked around to see if there were any unknown guests, turning back to you when he saw none. “Uh, Y/N?”

🥦You ignored him and continued. “He’ll be nervous at first, but he’ll warm up to you. Go ahead. You were in this house long before we came here.”

🥦Izuku screeched like a banshee when he felt the couch sink next to him. Like he was a cartoon, he jumped into your arms, clutching you like he was afraid to lose you. The poor panicked boy didn’t know what to do.

🥦So, you began explaining all that you knew about your abilities, or extra quirk as he said. The girl never left, quite amused by the interaction. Izuku never really calmed down. Sure he’s prepared for it in his journals, but he never thought there would be a day.

🥦”I told you ‘I see dead people’.”

🥦”Y-yeah, I guess you did."

#bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha dabi #bnha midoriya #midoriya x reader #bakugo x reader #dabi x reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha #midoriya izuku #bakugo katsuki #dabi #bnha scenarios #bnha headcanons #bnha au #supernatural #bakugo smut #dabi smut #midoriya smut

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enbyonmandalore · 3 years ago

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The Book Of Boba Fett, Episode 5

Hey, hi, hello... I'm back from the dead.

You're getting two reviews today because, frankly, my life has been very stressful and anxiety-driven lately and just I haven't managed to watch Episode 5 until today, so I had a two-for-one kind of day. Without further ado, let's get into the TBOBF review!

SPOILERS!

Okay so I'd be lying of I said I didn't screech like a banshee when Din showed up. This Episode did feel more like illegal The Mandalorian season 3 content than TBOBF, but I'm so so glad we got him back! Din Djarin my beloved! Of course I'm also happy that The Armorer and Vizsla are still alive - seemingly the only other Mandalorians that survived the fight on Nevarro. All the talk about the Darksaber really really reminded me of @kate-komics work with the haunted Darksaber taking control of Din, making him more violent and susceptible to mental damage. Shout out to Kate at this point - go check out her work! But it was really nice to see just what exactly Din has been up to in the meantime, I missed him and I'm sure you did too. Can't wait for the actual season 3 of The Mandalorian now though. Now gimme more Boba Fett in action, please and thank you Mr. Filoni.

All in all, I liked this Episode.

#tbobf #the book of boba fett #das buch von boba fett #tbobf spoilers #the book of boba fett spoilers #star wars #the mandalorian #fennec shand #boba fett #din djarin #din djarin my beloved #din djarin simp #but also boba fett simp

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peigslayers · 4 years ago

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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Major Character Death Characters: Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, John Winchester Additional Tags: Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dead Mary Winchester, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Banshees, Celtic Mythology & Folklore,Fire,Pre-Stanford Era (Supernatural), look fair warning there's a description of mary winchester dying in this fic so keep that in mind!, ghost mary who haunts her family, is something i hold very dear to my heart, also this started as a tumblr post but i have not got the strength to go looking for it on my blog,just know that it was basically just an outline of this, also finally i write something where sam actually gets to feature, bean sí is just the irish for banshee btw its pronounced the same

As the moon at midnight moves through the starry sky Out there in the bog land the Banshee's shrill cry The one seldom heard and that human eyes cannot see Some say the ghost of one who died in agony.

- The Cry Of The Banshee By: Francis Duggan.

For the Prompt: AU on Day 2 of @spnwomenweek

Fire. She is burning and it is pain like she has never felt. Her body is not her own, it is stiff, unable to even react to the agony. Strapped to the ceiling. The smell of her own burning flesh overpowers her. The pain from the wound in her stomach pales in comparison to the feeling of eyeballs boiling in her skull and the skin sloughing off her bones.

She should have known. Hunting is a black hole - an inexorable votex. How could she have ever thought she could escape? Even as her nerve endings fry and her limbs screech in agony, she finds it within herself to hope that at least her family might survive her.

The pain fades away, exceeding the limits of human comprehension. A single-minded purpose takes its place in her consciousness. Her sacrifice will be worth it if it protects her family, if her two beautiful boys never live the life that she has. The deal is done, the demon should have no more business with her family. In her death she can make sure they are safe.

The last thing Mary sees is the horror on John’s face.

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There has always been a ghost in Sam’s life. A woman who exists in the corner of his eyes and flickers when he shakes his head. Her haunting screams are as familiar to him as led zeppelin tapes crackling through the car radio. Together they form the soundtrack of his childhood.

She is pale. Completely washed of colour. Limp grey hair frames her wan face and there’s a suspicious darkness that stains the front of her long white nightgown.

When he was younger he couldn’t understand her erratic and ever changing moods. She seems to flip between disinterested floating to terrified wails between breaths and he can find no rhyme or reason.

Sam would ask his brother if he knew the reason but Dean cannot see her. No one can. He tried to tell Dean - once - after the woman kept him from sleeping for eight hours straight with screams. The response kept him from ever bringing her up again. Shut up Sammy. There’s no one there. You’re imagining things. Don’t tell dad. I mean it Sammy. Keep your mouth shut.

Eventually Sam finds a pattern for himself. His teachers always tell him that he’s clever. She only ever appears when his father is gone on one of his trips.

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When Dean finally caves and tells him about the monsters, Sam finally understands the insistence on keeping the woman a secret from their dad. As a ghost she is a part of the supernatural that his father fights.

And since Sam is the only one that can see her then that means - What does it mean?

As soon as the library opens again after the holidays he’s straight in the door and into the folklore section. He needs to understand what (who) this spectre is. After hours of research, there is only one real conclusion to be made. She must be a banshee. A death omen.

Armed with the truth of his dad’s trips, he makes the inevitable connection. She is a banshee and she screams when Sam’s dad is gone. And yet his dad is not yet dead. She has to be screaming for the monsters at the other end of the knife.

An uncomfortable thought drifts into view. If she screams for monsters and he's the only one who can hear her then does that mean that-? No. He slams the book closed and shoves his pile haphazardly back onto the shelf. Dean is expecting home in an hour.

But even as these fevered thoughts rattle through Sam’s brain on the walk home, he still never connects this woman to the other ghost that haunts their family. Mother Mary. Patron Saint of the Winchesters. The spectre that pushes all of them forward on this reckless self-destructive odyssey of vengeance.

She is so changed after death as to be unrecognisable even to one raised on her legend.

------------------------------------------

Sam is relentless now. He sneaks off to study whenever he gets a minute to himself between hunting, training and research. No time to sleep - he just reads. Textbook after textbook until all he sees are diagrams and his dreams are drafted in legalese. Over dinner he scrawls as many practice essays as he can for his final exams and attempts to ignore the sniping from his dad

It’s a struggle to keep his grades up as he moves from school to school across state lines and curriculums and sometimes it’s all Sam can do not to cry. He knows his dad is annoyed that he hasn’t dropped out yet. Like Dean. That he wants a high-school diploma and not just a GED.

Sam doesn’t care. The banshee appears more often to him now. She stands in his line of sight and blocks his view of his family when they hunt. She screams and screams and drowns out all of his doubts. God only knows how his eardrums remain intact.

He knows more now than he did on that first day in the library. Has been on a million hunts. With enough time and research he could probably find her bones and shut her up for good. Salt and Burn. He never does. She is a reminder of all he wants to escape. An omen his dad cannot tell him to ignore.

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Sam sits on the edge of his bed with his law school acceptance letter in his hands. He’d picked it up from the post office earlier that day. Compulsively, he smoothes the creases over and over again, listening with half an ear to his family clattering around downstairs.

This is a good day. Dad is cheerful. The case had been a simple one - a poltergeist - easy to get rid off. Another suburban home rid of the monster. Dean is happy too. He’s been talking all day about the steaks he’d picked up in the bargain section of the supermarket. Now they can have a small celebration before moving out to a new town.

Sam looks down at the letter and knows that he won’t be going with them.

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The fight is world-ending. Of cataclysmic proportions. Sam’s never seen his dad so angry in his life.

He sits on the lonely greyhound bus to California, his only possessions in the bag he’s clutching to his chest. His lungs are still burning, hours after the argument and he can’t tell whether it’s anger or choked back tears or if it even matters.

But even here, alone on the bus, his clearest memory is that of blessed silence as he walked out the door. The woman standing stock still in his path.

She made no sound.

Instead. For the first and only time that he can remember. She smiled.

#spnwomenweek #spn #fic #mary winchester #wrote this in a fugue state this afternoon #so there may be typos sorry

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askthiscpblog · 4 years ago

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The Joining

'Keep him contained and keep an eye over him. We have questions, and we will get answers.' Slender commands to the rest, looking down at the unconscious male on the cot. So, this single person was keeping Jeff for all this time, with Char helping, and almost killed him. It was shocking to the aberration being the fact he almost succeeded in it. That was until they came in and saved Jeff's poor ass. With a turn, the slender figure leaves the room to let the others watch over the new person and Jeff. When dusk rolled in the male that goes by the name of Jason wakes up in a drowsy state.

“Aaagggu....” Confused about what is going on, he sits up in the bed he was laying in and with a measured motion looks around the room. It was rather cozy looking. The walls were a soft dark color wood with two windows letting the twilight in and a red oak door. The floor with dark marble flooring, so polished it reflected to him. The room had 5 other beds in neat rows from the opposite of one another, all with a nightstand, except for his. He noticed someone else in the room with him. They were underneath the covers of the bed on the opposite corner to his.

Without thinking he tries to get out of bed until he realized his left hand didn't move from the side of a bed. Looking down at it, leather straps cuffed his hand to the side of it.

“What...that?” Even more confused he scratched the top of his head for a moment until something clicked on his mind. He pulls down his arm in front of him looking at it and gripped his hand into a fist. His face went from tired confusion to a wide eye, puckered lip shook.

“...WHAT THE FUCK!?” He screeched out like a banshee.

The door burst open only seconds later, a small woman appeared in the doorway yelling, “Who the fuck is yelling in here!?” She looked over to where the shouting came from. Standing before was a man with black hair that she had not seen around here before. He seemed to be pretty tall, much taller than her. Then again, most people are taller than her. He also was tense and confused.

“Uhhhh, hi?”

Jason was far too distracted at his arm to realize the new presence in the room.

“No cast, no stitches, not even a scar...” he mutters. He then takes off his shirt to examine the wounds Jeff inflicted on him, they are now gone too. Even some that were there before all this from past fights were gone.

“W-What the...?” He's lost for words. Katie watched the man as he examined himself with intense confusion.

“...I’m gonna take a guess, and say you’re new here, huh?” she said as she sat down on one of the beds. “Don’t worry, the first week or so is a bit disorienting but you’ll get used to it.....So, what’s your name bud?”

He catches her at the corner of his eye and, turning to face her, looks at her.

“Um Jason. Also,” he points at the handcuff, “I’m more of a prisoner.”

“Eh same difference.” Katie stared at the handcuffs for a minute before her eyes returned to him. “The name’s Katie by the way.” She said as she stood up and walked a bit closer. She then continued, “So, who’d you piss off here to get cuffed like that?”

“Well, first I would like to know where I’m at. The last thing I remember I was in a fight and....” he responds in one long sigh; it sounds drawn out to be sarcastic. He looks at his arm for a moment, then starts to put his shirt back on. “I take it you’re not a guard?”

"She is. While I'm the doctor.” Says a man who comes into the room. He wore a black hoodie, black clothes, and a blue mask. On the outside of the mask appeared to be some black goo running down from the eyes.

“Well would you look at that, guess I am huh,” Katie said with a small chuckle.

“Hey, Jack.” She greeted the man without looking back. She recognized his voice by now, it was one of the first she heard when she got here.

"Evening Miss Katie. I am here to inspect Jason's arm to make sure it is healing. And to make sure Jeff is still surviving." He puts a bag down and turned to look at them both. "Please continue, I will look at Jeff first." Jason recognized Jack from the Halloween party and if he is here and so is Jeff then that would mean one thing. He does not like it.

“FUCK!” He tries to break free from the cuff in a panic. All it was doing was bruising his wrist and making it bleed, “Not good, not good not good!” Katie watched as he struggled, slight confusion at his sudden panic clear on her face.

“Woah bud calm down, you’re gonna hurt yourself more.” Katie grabbed his left arm to stop him from messing it up further.

He looks up at her then to Jack. “Look! I want nothing to do with you guys. I’m not with them! All I was after was Jeff! I swear!”

"So, you're willing to spill what you know about them?" EJ responds, looking up from checking up on Jeff. So, this was who took that Jeff guy. Katie knew they were looking for him for months and that someone took him but didn’t know much else. She stared at the two confused.

“I don’t know much about them. Was only offered a chance to get Jeff.” He replied to Jack, knowing full well they only kept him alive to be interrogated. “They try to recruit me after the party, but I refused.”

"Well, now you have a choice. Join us or let your family die before you do." Jack didn't look at him as he spoke, looking at the unconscious body of Jeff and checking his vitals.

Jace slaps Katie’s hand off him. His voice rose from the depths of his personal feelings he had about this, “YOU KEEP MY FAMILY OUT IF THIS INKEYE! THEY HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!”

Katie looked at her hand and back at Jason with a deadly glare. Her hand still red from where he smacked it away. Katie had patience, but it always wore thin fast, and she was getting tired of this man’s yelling.

Jack turned and looked at him, a small grin appearing under the mask. Moving forward, he pushed Jace back into the cot. "Kaite, will you help me strap him down please?"

“Yeah, no problem...” she said as grabbed his right arm that wasn’t cuffed to the bed. Jason looked at Katie then back to Jack, not liking the look he is giving him. He struggled and screamed like a mad man giving the woman a hard time keeping hold of his arm. Then his chest fell back into the bed thanks to the doctor pushing him there.

“Stop! Stop! Let go! Let go of me!” The anger in his voice melting to a childlike panic, becoming high and shrill as tears lined his eyes. Jack reached over and cuffed his arm to the bed, then moved down to pin his legs to the bed too.

"Now, the more you struggle the worse it will get. But please, keep doing so. The smell of your blood and seeing your blood fill with panic only makes you taste better." With that EJ leans over Jace, moving the mask aside at the bottom to reveal grey skin. Three long black tongues fall out and slither over themselves above his face. After a bit of a struggle, she finally got his arm down on the bed. Despite still annoyed from the hand slap earlier, she didn’t blame him for panicking. It was a reasonable reaction to the situation at hand. Hell, she would most likely do the same. But still, she kept quiet as she held him down.

Tears start to roll down Jason’s cheeks as the spittle of the monster hands on him. Whimpering on what’s about to happen as he shakes his head from side to side until his eyes landed on Jack. He froze with eyes widening with pure terror because the face changed. Jack’s skin was turning paler and paler to a bleach white. His hair grew long and greasy, oil covering it from root to tip; his smile ripped open from ear to ear. The worst thing that could happen was eyeballs grew in his sockets to an unblinking stare. Before his very eyes, Jack now takes the form of his true monster, Jeff.

As it did the night of his fight with Jeff, Jason’s mind snaps. He screeched as he lunged his head forward and bit down on one of Jack’s tongues. Black blood oozed in his mouth. He then starts to devolve into convulsing as the leather strap on his arm tears, and the wood that held the other end of his cuffed arm cracked.

Feeling the bite, Jack yanked back, screeching a near-deafening, inhuman screech. His mask flew off as he moved forward, mouth closed but oozing black blood as he put a hand around Jace's throat. His brown, black hair messy as he tried to keep his face half-covered. He pushed down tight, looking over to Katie to help keep the guy under control.

"Looks like we have a case of PTSD here. Katie, would you mind getting me something to knock him out?" He asked, keeping a calm voice through it all. Either that will knock him out, or Jack choking him out and cutting off blood flow will. One will do it, all a matter of which will happen first.

“Uh yea no problem...” Katie said as she looked around, “Do you got chloroform and a rag in here?” It was either that or her knocking him out herself, and this guy had been through enough already. But she’d do it if she had too regardless.

"Third door from the right, second shelf on the left," Jack responded, taking his other hand and pinning Jace's torso down. The more force applied down on him, the more violent he becomes. The leather strap finally broke and Jason’s arm slammed the side of Jack’s head with unusual strength. Swinging at everything within his power to get the make-believe Jeff off him to the point of clawing as if he was a raved animal.

Katie grabbed Jason’s arms, holding them both down with all her body weight. At this point, she needed him to calm down from the episode if she wanted this ordeal to end.

“You need to calm down.” She said in a calm and stern of a voice she could. Not getting angry at him and raising her voice.

Seeing what she did, Jack let go of his chokehold and moved to the shelves. Well, there was a drug that could do the trick. With deft hands, he pulls it out with a needle and pulls it up.

"Keep his arms from moving as much as you can." He tells Katie, taking a few long strides over with it. "This should knock him right out."

His eyes were still locked on Jack as he returns, his arms flailing. His left wrist cut deep from the cuffs that it is hitting muscle now and the wood that is holding the other end is starting to splinter. His right arm was shaking Katie up and down like a mechanical bull trying to sting her off. He could hear nothing but a cackling from his memories. He fought to break free and is so close but watch with horror at the knife in the imposter Jeff’s hand. When Jack got to the foot of his bed a word finally shot out of him, “Ja- JAAAANE!!"

"She won't help you here." Well, never said he wasn't an asshole to make it worse. In goes the needle into his vein, even with the struggling, he aimed it right. Shooting it in, he made sure all it got through before it came out.

"It should only take a few seconds for it to work. It's the stuff they use for wisdom teeth extraction." His struggling lost intensity, almost sluggish until he closed his tear-filled eyes. The tension in his body finally released and fell back into the bed, breathing heavy from the exhaustion on his body and mind. Katie held his arms a few moments longer to make sure that he wasn’t going to resist anymore. She let go of his arms with a slight sigh of relief, looking at Jason as took deep breaths.

“I’m no genius, but I’m going to take a guess and say he doesn’t like that Jeff guy...”

"From the looks of it a victim who survived by Jane." Jack put the needle onto the side table and felt his jaw. Man, his fucking tongue hurt where he bit it.

"You know what..." He mumbles, lifting Jace's shirt, he takes a knife and cuts open a place where his kidney is.

Katie grabbed Jack by the wrist, not looking at him as she scolded him, “No. Poor bastards had enough....at least for today.” Her voice was stern again. She had gotten over this whole ordeal, and this guy did not need another reason to flip his shit again once he came too.

"I was just doing to prank him, not take his kidney." Blood was already pouring out of the cut. "Going to stitch it up and make him think I did when he wakes up. Teach him fucking twice for biting my tongue." Jack pulled his wrist away from her and turned, holed eyes looking down. Man, was she always so short to him? Taking a needle and thread, he begins to stitch the skin back together. The skin lined up to one another, making it heal without a scar. "If you care so much, you can stay and keep an eye on him while I go tell Slender and send in some backup." With that, the blue masked demon left the room.

Anon runs and pants, fear clear on their face even though they were wearing a mask.

“Holy crap... what happened here?! I heard a battle going on! Do you guys still need help or is everything alright?”

‘Should’ve kept my mouth closed.’ was all Katie thought as the new person busted through the door.

“Yeah uh...everything’s fine, guy had a PTSD episode or whatever Jack said.” She said while sitting down on one of the other beds with a sigh. She kept a mental note not to be here for the next freak out when he wakes up again.

"Jesus... alright... I'm new... um...hi? What's your name?" Anon looks a bit awkward and uncomfortable. It took Katie a minute to process the question through her slight exhaustion.

“Katie, yours?” How many people were in this place? It seemed like there was a new person here every other day. Or maybe she never noticed them? She didn’t know and was a bit too tired to think about it more.

"Anonymous but most call me Anon..." They whine, walking in, their hands in their pockets still uncomfortable about the sudden burst in.

“Well Anon, it’s good that you’re here....” Katie said as she stretched. “I’m gonna need some help watching over this guy. Or at least for when he wakes up again.” Katie did not want to deal with the guy by herself the next time he flipped his shit, too much of a headache.

“Understandable, I don’t mind helping.” They decide to sit down and seem more confident and comfortable now, knowing that they're needed here.

Hours later Jason wakes up in a groggy state. Not wanting to wake up, but the pain on is his wrist and side aches. He reaches over to his side and can feel fresh stitching in it.

“What that hell?” He groaned as he sits up, struggling to try and not rip the stitches.

“Hello...I see you have woken up?” Anon asks, tilting their head. Looking to the Slender hybrid, he groans,

“Hi.” He shifted in the bed then yelped from pain. He turns his head down to his cuffed wrist. It’s the color of eggplant from bruising and the scabs broke and started to bleed turning the sheets even darker in red. He points at the handcuff.

“Can you...get me out of this. I need to treat this and some whisky with a side of water.” He said as he looked back at her. He was not in a good mood after his blackout. “I have a bad taste in my mouth. Like I took a bite of rotten liver.”

"I don't know if I'm allowed to, but I can at least get some stuff to heal that. It looks pretty sore..." They walk up and sniff at the blood, drooling. "I know what rotten liver is like. It’s not the best."

“I don’t want to know how you know that and I prefer to patch up my wounds. Just unlock me and I promise you I won’t run. I know when I’m outmatched.” Jason explained, exasperated and exhausted. He didn’t try to give a single damn about this situation.

“I don’t have keys but ok.” They reach forward, grab the handcuffs, and break them.

It was at this moment that Slender and EJ enter, looking at the situation before them. It was interesting to see, and kinda amusing to the two. EJ moved over to Jace, grabbing his hands to look down over the wounds. "I will take care of them, not you. You won't do it well enough." With that he let them go and went to check the cabinet.

'Anon, I suppose that he hasn't been giving you trouble. And same with you, Miss Katie?' The eldritch figure looked down at Jace and the rest of them, no eyes giving any sign of emotion. 'You two are welcome to stay if you wish.'

“I came into the room myself a bit ago dad, I’m as confused as her. Also, her name is Katie knows more than I do. I ran in as I heard panic.” Anon reports, turning away afterward as they whisper to themselves on how they’d love a bite. They twitch as they look towards Jace, tempted by the smell of blood and flesh.

'I am not your father, take care to remember that child.'

Jason withdrew his hand from EJ, trying to keep it to himself. “After the stunt you pulled, I don’t think so, also I don’t remember this before I blacked out.” He pointed at the stitching on his body, not paying any mind to the Slenderman.

“What stunt?” Anon tilt their head again, a quizzical look on their face.

"He decided to bite my tongue," EJ responds, looking over his shoulder to Jace before getting the last few things. "You can try to fight me on this and end up worse, or let me do my job."

"Oh... yeah... sorry. It's uncle, right?" Anon is looking embarrassed again, the heat rising to their face. Man, they were thankful for the mask right now.

'Yes.' Slender looked over to Jason, a tendril coming out to force him to look at the eldritch horror. 'Now Jason, we are going to talk.' Anon watches with curiosity on how agile he was with his.

Jason moved the tendril away, looking at Slender dragging each work, “As I told ink eyes I don’t know shit. I was only after the psychopathic slack-jawed over there,” he pointed over to Jeff’s bed, “I don’t want anything to do with you or the super blowjob monster.”

'Well, that isn't going to stop me.' Slender pulled up a chair and sat down on it, crossing one leg over the other. With no warning, he bore through Jason's mind to gather the information needed. 'I can tell you do not know anything. So, I offer you this, you work with us to keep them at bay. In return, it gives you an up-close and personal time to study him,' he tells him, projecting it all to them, pointing towards Jeff, 'and you will work under Jane. If you kill him while working so be it but that doesn't mean, we won't try and save him. He is...useful after all.'

Anon looks somewhat surprised by the comment, ‘-super blowjob monster-‘ as they believe that they meant their father. Still Slender felt more of a father than he did. Deciding to mimic Slender they grab a chair and sits beside him while keeping quiet.

Jason pondered for a moment. “So, Jane is here as well...now what if I still refuse?”

'You put your family in danger. From both us and the opposition. Your cooperation will spare them from us at least.' He knew threatening the family is a risky move with him, but he is dedicated to them at least.

“Ooh... risky... uncle, I wouldn’t mind helping if possible. That’s if you don’t mind?” Anon look up at him, their black eyes with white glowing irises, eager to prove themselves. They then hold their stomach. “Mmf... did I forget to eat today?” They huffed.

Jason, not missing a beat, grabbed his pillow and throws it at Anon’s face. “You touch my family I will make you regret it and that’s a promise.” His pitch dropped, then softened as he continues to speak, “But knowing that Jane is here maybe we can cut a deal, but first my throat hurts. If I can have some scotch on the rocks to soothe it. Then we can talk.”

Slender looked over to Kaite, head tilting down to her to address her. 'Miss Katie can you go get that, and Jane too please.' A stern voice emanated through their heads, but the others it was faint. At that moment EJ came back and put the gauze down that has squeezed out iodine to begin taking care of Jason’s wrist.

"Now this will sting, but you can take it." He nabs one of Jace's bloody wrists and begins to wrap it up, keeping it still so he couldn't pull away. No matter how hard he tried.

Anon grabs it before it hits their face. “I don’t want to...hurt you or your family.” They huff and seem to struggle a bit as their hands grow into claws and the one holding the pillow rips the pillow by accident.

“I’m a good person. I just…have problems.” They mumble to themselves looking around for anything they could eat. The smell of his wounds was strong and still rather inviting to Anon’s other side. But their human side knows it’s wrong to eat friends.

“I shouldn’t be here right now.” They struggle to move as they stare at Jace while drooling a bit which drips behind the mask.

Katie’s head snapped towards Slender. “Uh…yeah sure.” She had zoned out a while ago and hadn’t realized other people arrived, or that Jason was even awake. She walked down to the kitchen, still a bit exhausted from the earlier fiasco.

“Jane, big man needs ya!” She yelled out as she made the drink.

'Then leave and go find some food. Don't come back until you're sated.' Slender demands. 'If you cannot control yourself then leave. Either gain some discipline or act like the animal you are right now.'

Jane meanwhile heard Katie call, and so down she came. "If he needs me, he can c-ack!" She started to say, only to have it interrupted by Slender demanding she come down. His presence overwhelmed her for a second, causing the pain and for her to stagger down the stairs. Passing the kitchen, she looked in at Katie before going to EJ's medic room.

Katie rolled her eyes and followed Jane with the drink, handing it to Jason once she got there. She felt like a damn maid for a second.

'Thank you, Katie.' Slender tells her. 'I might have a mission for you if you're interested. We can talk about it later.'

“Whatever stops me from being stuck here doing nothin' all the time, I’ll take.” She responded with a huff.

Jason grabbed the drink and raised it to Katie, “Thanks.” He then looked over to Jane. A look of guilt washed over his face for a moment then he sighed, sipped the drink, and let the burn of the whisky soothe his throat. Resisted the urge to go hug her, but there are more pressing matters now. After the long pause, he looks back at Slender. Taking the next words in a professional tone, “Alright....I’ll work with you guys until your little war over with. I don’t think I can get out any sooner, but I do have some demands if I’m going to work with you guys.”

With Slender saying that to them, it infuriated them as they bit Slender in the arm. They screeched, "I’m not a monster...YOU ARE!" Their sharp teeth sunk into his arm as they lock on him instead, their mask falling off revealing their human face.

Jason was not expecting this. Not saying a word, he takes a long sip of his drink. ready to see the shit show unfold before him.

If Slender had a proper face, it would show disgust and annoyance with the situation at hand. Lifting his arm, he flings Anon from it and through the wall with the tentacles flying after them. Impaling them through the head and heart, killing them, he didn't once look away from Jason as this happened.

'EJ, fix up Anon and make sure they stay out for a few days.' He orders. EJ all the while was working on Jace's wrists, having them bound uptight and healing from the struggle earlier. Groaning and rolling his nonexistent eyes, he bounds over to pick Anon to revive them on the other side of the room.

'As you can see, death is not the worst thing that can happen here. You are in no position to demand anything, but I will hear of them none the less.'

Jason was silent, realizing this guy was heartless, but damn. With a shaking hand, he finishes his drink and places it down with a little bit of a clatter. Getting off the bed walking to the monster, hearing the ringing of his blood, only feeling his heartbeat race as he gets closer. He stops right at Slender face and looked him where he believes his eyes would be. His mind is racing on what to do and focusing not to run. He takes a shaky breath and then steals himself.

“And I say I have every right to make demands on this ordeal. If you want me to cooperate, I want them fulfilled and in return, I’ll do my best to do what you or Jane wants me to do around here.” His tone was drier than desert sand, trying to hold his ground, but not wanting to be too aggressive. But he failed to realize the trembling of his legs, giving away his false confidence.

Jane looked over to Jace and started, "Jace don't-"

‘Silence.' One word was all it took. Slender looks at this man in front of him, this child, as he tried to make a stand against someone like him. With this he stood up from the chair, inch by inch towering over the killer in front of him. How silly it had to look to everyone else from this, a human trying to stand up to a near god.

'You do not. I am only hearing this out of the graciousness of my hospitality. You have yet to make your demands child. Be quick about it, else I lose my patience with you.'

“Fine.” He holds up his hand and raised his index finger on his first demand. “My family and any extended family are granted immunity from all members and or allied and implied that are on your side. Also, protection from the opposite faction along with 3rd party that is or may be sent by them.” The rest of his fingers raised one after another corresponding to his next demands. “I stick to my ways of killing. I refuse to murder or kidnap anyone that’s under the age of 18 or anyone that would be defenseless that’s not on the opposing faction. Next, I would like privacy. No invading my memories, inner thoughts without or my room permission. That includes anyone that you order, ask, or suggest to. The only time you can do it without my permission is whether you suspect me going rogue or an emergency.” He thinks to himself for a moment then makes his last three demands. “I want all my laptop that I was in the warehouse of the night I faced off Jeff. Exactly how it was before you guys came busting in. I also refused to be used as a puppet so no mind-controlling or puppet mastering either. Finally," he finished, gritting his teeth, “my last demand is don’t let those guys win......” He remembered how his last argument with Skully raged him on how much he didn’t care about the many that lost their lives in the raid of the mansion.

“We have a deal?” He offers his trembling hand to Slender.

The eldritch figure bore his gaze into the killer below him, seeing him hold up his hands making demands. The tremble in his voice, the shaking hand as he attempted to keep up his tough-guy act. How quaint was it that humans needed to put on a show in front of each other? This one is specific in front of those he calls his family, Jane, who was behind him.

'You act tough for someone so weak-willed. Your family will get protection from us, but they will not be guarded by us. They are on their own when it comes to the war. If the other faction decides to involve them, then so be it. We are not guardians. We are killers.' Slender looked down at Jason's extended hand before using a tendril to pick him up by the shirt, forcing him to look him eye to eye. Rather, white face to eye.

'Your ways of killing are fine, do as you please and see fit. If I order you to kill someone or something, you do it. Regardless of it is a babe in a cradle, you will do it. This is for a greater purpose than some heightened sense of honor you have. You are a killer you have no sense of honor and don't deserve it anyway. Privacy from me is not a thing here, you do not get a choice. You get your room however you please, but there is no hiding anything from me. It is my gracious hospitality that I allow you to stay, thus I demand what I please out of you. Besides, it isn't like that will stop any of the others in the house from snooping around as they see fit. ' The last three demands were amusing to the creature, curious on why he wanted those so bad. It was not letting them win that made the abomination chuckle in amusement. 'That is why you are here you are helping us not let them win this fight. The other things are of no issue, but I will do what I must to succeed. Do I make myself clear Jason?'

His eyebrow raised from the comment on the honor comment. “I...I see. Well, we may have a problem with the order. Have me kill whoever you want me to kill, that isn’t going to work out so well, but we will worry about that if it happens. Try to keep your peeping Tom self where I don’t notice it. And my family I’ll figure something out on that, but thanks.” He gives the aberration a quick kiss on his faceless face.

“Now our contract is sealed.” His nerves start to calm down from the shock of Anon’s sudden death.

It was at that moment Slender dropped Jace from his full height, letting him fall the full distance on his own. He did nothing to help or slow him down. 'What the hell is this shit? Where the hell did your fear go?' He demanded, before hearing Katie and looked over to her. Ah yes, he did have a plan for her.

Katie sat quietly as the new guy joined the team. Another face and named that she would have to remember. “Does that mean I don’t have to babysit this guy anymore? I’m getting kind of bored here.” she blurted the question out. She had been sitting around here much more than she would like to and was ready to do anything other than play nanny for a few more hours.

'That is correct. Please, report to my office in 15 minutes. I will give you a mission to go out on.' Slender explains to her. EJ looked up from this, having to revive Anon his top priority. They were stable and breathing again, but out cold for the next day or so.

“Shit! Ow!” He said and he falls on his back and sits up, frantically rubbed the back of his head from the pain. He looks up at the tower know as Slender and responded to his question. Finding it a bit funny that even a....whatever he is was thrown off sometimes.

“Well. You caught me off guard with the sudden fatality done on your relative. So sudden that it discombobulated me. Now that I think about it. I was never good with jump scares.” He gets back on his feet and crossed his arms at the figure. “Besides you ain’t got nothing on my Nana when she is angry. Now that is true terror.” He said with a grin but stops suddenly by a wince with pain.

"Mmf..." This is the only sound Anon made in a while, proving they are alive thanks to EJ’s efforts, even from true fatal blows.

“I’ll be there when you get there,” Katie huffed as she left to go to the office, having nothing else to do beforehand.

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cerberus253 · 4 years ago

Text

Demon Deep Dive (JCA)

Someone asked if I could do headcanons for the Eight Demon Sorcerers from Jackie Chan Adventures, so here it is, and more! Much more oh God...

Canon Stuff

All seven Demon Sorcerers HATE Shendu for his conniving nature and deceptive past towards/with them (Drago just hates him because father issues)

The Demon Sorcerers do not need external objects to perform spells, for it simply comes from their physical being

They are all old fucks

There are plenty more demon sorcerers, but these eight/nine are all those that were ever mentioned

All want to rule the world

Everyone, aside from Shendu, actually somewhat care about each other and agree to rule the world together. Why is that even though they shouldn’t have “social urges“ because of their biology? We’ll discuss that later

Looking back on the very first episode they were all in together, they are fucking in sync as all Hell! They were finishing each others’ sentences, they knew what each one was thinking. Damn, son, they be tight AF; family goals, amiright?

How to start a Demon Sorcerer meeting: Step 1) Find Po Kong, Step 2) Call everyone else over because it would take too long moving her at all

About the individual demons themselves (Most of this is reworded from the Wiki, but confirmed through watching their episodes):

Hsi Wu

Guerilla tactics for the win

Oddly patient, ya know, for someone so kind of childish

Becomes bored easily, so he has the knack to pick on his siblings and humans, with the latter being in more vicious and cruel ways

Aside from Shendu, Hsi Wu is the most bullied by his siblings (it’s because he’s small, isn’t it??)

Although he hates Shendu like the rest of his siblings, he is more “cold and apathetic“ towards him, with occasionally getting along, albeit extremely slight

High pitched noises hurts his ears

“His wings are sharp enough to cut through concrete“

Playful, although in a sadistic way

Simply flies to get where he needs to be

Likes to pester and make fun of Po Kong specifically

He just. Constantly smiles or has this big wide, toothy grin on his face all the time

*gremlin noises* *cat hisses*

Best/Worst Actor Award goes to...

Tso Lan

Sophisticated and more-or-less monotone sounding, he is always on alert with his senses. Despite this, his reaction timing is awful

Seemingly emotionless, his relaxed demeanor breaks when something doesn’t go his way. He does display some sarcasm, though

According to the wiki, he is very hard to please and never compliments anyone. What a stuck-up asshole

Along with Bai Tza and Xiao Fung, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

He apparently is one of the elder siblings

He is one of the most powerful sibling because he can bring the fucking Moon out of fucking orbit like it is nothing

He is Shantae He can control his hair, as well as float and glide gracefully

He can survive in space

He does indeed have legs, for he has been seen walking ONCE and we get to see his boots (Demon World (Part 2))

Shendu (My apologies, but not my regret, about if you are upset with me and my loathing for Shendu)

Selfish asshole who doesn’t like sharing, even with his family

Everybody Hates Shendu and Shendu Hates Everybody, and they all want each other dead, including Drago

Legit, he made a truce with Uncle, the mortal enemy, so he could horribly punish Drago. What a good father, amiright???

Can hold a grudge for, like, ever and hardly ever keep his promises. He also willingly admits he’s a traitorous bastard

Greedy and sophisticated asshole

Like, Jesus Christ, I wanted to give Shendu some slack because I did not want myself to be blinded by hatred for the guy, but my God is he the worst

“Shendu is not only devoid of compassion and sympathy for mortals, but also cares little to nothing for his family-members - this is displayed most markedly by how he left his siblings to rot in the Netherworld so he could rule the Earth himself.“

“Father and son's relationship was so toxic that Shendu even declared when Drago was being sucked into an interdimensional rift that his son deserved no less than to be trapped on the other side for his disloyalty.“

“Despite this, in response to Drago's apology and profuse pleading, Shendu visibly contemplated for a moment and hesitantly decided to try saving Drago from his fate (with a warning that his son must remember he is second to Shendu while they're on Earth), suggesting Shendu might genuinely care about his son to some extent (or at the very least, as close to caring about another being as Shendu is capable of).“ Um, not sure if I agree on the “genuinely care“ part, but totes on board with the “just wants him for a playing chip“ thought

Although he may be one of the most powerful demons of the family, that does not stop his siblings from actively going against him, which surprisingly makes Shendu submissive to them. Hmm...

He legit cares about no one but himself and that is no overstatement. I’m sorry to all those fangirls out there :V

Once ruled all of China

Shendu gets all whiny and high pitched, often stuttering, when expressing fear (which is every single time he gets a family reunion, which reminds me...)

He can be such a cheeky charmer

Although Shendu only cares about himself, he does seem pretty observant with recognizing what others do want, and of course uses that to his advantage. Hm, observant guy; no wonder he has fangirls

Tchang Zu

Not that talkative, even during fights, and rather only speaks when he feels the need to. However, when he does speak, it is rather loud and/or commanding

Hates when he isn’t respected, especially out of fear. He hates it so much he verbally explodes with anger when something personal to him is disrespected

Is willing to get down and dirty when reaching his (and his siblings’) goals

Is most likely the most colorful with his wording and admiring architecture

Really only attacks those he deems worthy (apparently there was a crowd of humans he only bothered scaring away and not attacking, even though they only saw him as entertainment?)

Become Goku Flies on a cloud to get where he needs to be

Oh my God he sits criss-cross-applesauce

Dai Gui

A little under average intelligence, but his brutality and strength make up for it, being an absolute bulldozer with anything that stands in his way

I must reinforce the “a little under average“ part because he does use the word “ludicrous,“ which is no caveman word

Violent and macabre imagery is his verbal forte

A big bully, since he loves throwing his authority around to those under him

Similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui is also willing to do dirty work, but mainly for himself than for others

Absolutely LOATHES “pretty“ things, like flowers

Sometimes talks in third person

Seems to prefer using his raw strength than his magical powers

Laughs at his own jokes

Persistent and dedicated. Nice!

Po Kong

Hungry Hungry Hippo; food is always on the mind, I wouldn’t be surprised if her want to rule the world was second on her list

Although she can and would eat anything, she is still picky

Her favorite flavor is human and salt

She knows French (ah yes, one of the “Love Languages”)

She snores

Po Kong likes to torment Hsi Wu

She can walk on her own

Favorite food: Human

Bai Tza

Hates Shendu the most

Most outspoken and dominating out of all the demons (”verged on superiority complex”)

Tends to deal with situations more realistically, as well as learning from past mistakes

Despite her intelligence, her hubris still gets the best of her

Along with Tso Lan and Xiao Fung, she is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Apparently didn’t have humans living in her palace, which was Atlantis

Can levitate

Bunch of banshee screeches. Yeesh

Xiao Fung

Talkative and slimey diplomat that prefers debating with his siblings rather than arguing and fighting

Enjoys fights to the death between his underlings

Has an interest in drama and being a part of it

Seems to be the most cooperative and decent when working with humans. Cool!

Absolutely despises the Netherworld so much that a human prison is “paradise“ to him

Along with Bai Tza and Tso Lan, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Need to get somewhere? No problem, just jettison your way with wind bellows from your lungs through your mouth

Although he does care for his siblings, it’s apparently not enough to “carry the burden“ of freeing them. Maybe it’s out of pure laziness? He does seem against doing active things (other than blowing wind, which only he can do)

Headcanon Stuff

Why do the Demon Sorcerers (besides Shendu) actually care for one another and agree to share the Earth between each other? I did say they do not possess the inherent-to-parent instinct, but I never said they were not social animals. The demons may not have the need to reproduce or want sexual anything, but they do posses the need/want to have company, which is kind of supported by the fact that canonically and in real life, Chinese demons mainly want to be praised and treated like gods. One cannot be considered a god, nor be praised in general, if one does not have beings beneath or beside them for confirmation

So, in a way, you could say they all desire some sort of reassurance of their importance.

Their relationship with humans is understandable, given from with what I just said, but the relationship between one another is a little more... deep? They obviously consider each other legit family, so they do care about one another (with some rough-play rivalry), but I think it’s less on the biological factor and more of the “fitting in“ factor.

Here’s my theory: Yes they are biologically family, but they did not view each other as such originally. After a while of being with one another, experiencing similarities, they became family-close in the metaphorical sense (in addition to the literal sense). This would explain how Shendu could have lost touch with them intimately while the others did not with each other, all the while still considering each other as family.

So, despite my whole push on the demons having little compassion, they do still harbor it; expressing it through family feelings. However, just like humans, there are always those who posses less compassion than the average person, and that would be Shendu. Shendu is the psychopath of the family-- the Black Sheep, if you will

In addition, theoretically, for all those fangirls and guys out there, they could love you like a precious pet. Just sayin’ (so, like, imagine the Demon Sorcerers having human pets and treating them like we do our own “Look how much of a chonkster my human is!” “Oh yeah? Well mine started getting ready for winter early; look at this massive boy-o!” I call my cats “stupid, stinky babies who I love” and then proceed to cuddle them all the time :V)

Fuck it, they have family movie/theatre nights because I find it endearing even though it may be Out of Character

To begin this next section, I want to state that the Demon Sorcerers are based on The Bagua. However, it is merely their elements that are the inspiration, not anything with the philosophy behind Bagua. However however, I will be looking into it and seeing what the Bagua has that still can reflect on the sorcerers. In other words, instead of basing the demons on the Bagua, I’ll be “basing“ the Bagua on the demons, if that makes sense.

Smol

Hsi Wu’s kingdom was probably located on the eastern coast of the USA

Judging by that teacher’s transformation with some of his chi, he may have “avian tendencies” with flying south for the winter and building nest-like structures

Probably the most convincing one to “befriend“ a human. Not because of his past friendship with Jade, but because people could relate to him of being picked on from size and lack of abilities, in addition to being more approachable because of his size and playfulness

His demeanor is mostly childlike, especially with how cruel children can be

Probably dislikes orchestral music, especially violins, flutes, the triangle, etc

Would most likely become a memester. Maybe.

“How do ya do, fellow kids?“

Likes to listen to music/singing while doing things and stuff. So, maybe he has to be distracted to some degree to be content, or he will be grumpy? (AD(H)D)

Real Talk: At one point in Tale of the Demon Tail (where Jade “befriends” Hsi Wu, or really his persona), Hsi Wu’s persona of being Jade’s friend actually disintegrates. Meaning, that “mask“ he put on to befriend Jade, at one point dissolved into an actual aspect of himself. So, when he answered Jade’s question of ‘are you going to the dance‘ or whatever, his initial response was that of an actual human-child Hsi Wu friend. While yes he was still acting, his initial response was almost unconscious, and then he realized what he was saying and said the other thing. I mean, it could have easily been “Nah, that’s stupid-- oh wait, that’s a good idea to get inside the house, actually,“ but that still follows the unconscious response action. What am I getting at here? Well, the interaction the two had proves that a clump of Hsi Wu’s personality does click with Jade. I’m not saying “I ship it“ or anything, what I’m saying is their personalities attract one another in general and could work between two different characters. As much as they seem to get along, there are other characteristics the two have that oppose one another and definitely shatters that friendship. So, Jade and Hsi Wu Being Friends? No; Some Personality Traits They Have Connect to One Another in General and Could Work Between? Yes.

The ye olde game of Chase is probably his favorite. Ya know, the game where you chase people around? Yeah, any game where he gets to chase/hunt his pray would be his favorite

Very similar to Shendu, Hsi Wu is one of the craftier folk of the family. However, unlike Shendu, creativity is his primary weapon which is, of course, used to make up for his size.

Similar to Xiao Fung, Hsi Wu is also one of the siblings that listens and pays attention the most. Their difference being is the information he learns is more for his selfish advantage than a “getting along” way.

Despite his dishonesty towards Jade, he is the most integral to himself. What I mean is, while yes all the demons follow their demon ethos, I believe Hsi Wu is the most true to himself and wouldn’t back down or reject something he is honestly interested in. However, probably because he knows how others know him, he can use this integrity to fool others into believing him with ease.

Hsi Wu is also probably the most inclined to have faith in others, but this DOES NOT mean he easily trusts people. What I’m saying is he may not easily trust others, but when he does, that faith in them is near unwavering

“The Beauty of Mischief”

“Lord High Lord of the Sky,” or “Lord High Lord of Firmament”

Vamps

Tso Lan’s “kingdom“ was probably located on the Moon

Like all sophisticated assholes, he probably enjoys reading, but only books that deal with the fall of humanity and apocalypse stuff. Maybe even some space stuff, like the movie Interstellar? (Star Wars can kiss his ass, though)

Can posses dark matter? Because of his dark magic bolts and his affinity with gravity?

Doesn’t like being around people. His siblings are fine, but he rather not have company, judging by how he most likely spends his time on the Moon and rarely visits Earth. Antisocial personality disorder much??

Like we have stated earlier, Tso Lan never gives out compliments, for he is oh so difficult to please. He watches intently and is careful with his neutral wording, always sounding cold and cruel. However, despite his emotionless disposition, he does have some ugly colors. For example, he does get angry, especially when he is interrupted. Example two, he does take pleasure in tormenting his enemies. However, the good color of natural tranquility explains his seemingly “lack of emotion.”

If he can ever “give respect” to anyone, it’s probably so difficult to achieve it should be considered impossible. But hey, if you do somehow get his compliments, consider yourself special, home slice! In addition, it’s probably also highly unlikely to get him to laugh. Like, not even a chuckle. Maybe a sarcastic and flat “Ha,“ but nothing too intense.

He may not think of himself as king or an emperor, but he does view himself as some sort of higher metaphysical power, like a pontiff. In addition, he probably sees his position being the highest because of his throne on the Moon and his power over gravity (and maybe dark matter). Being used to this placement, he has distanced himself from just about every living thing, being untainted with normal, petty desires. Oh but being a demon has its drawbacks, for wanting is in the blood. Meaning, there are most likely some things out there that he may desire (Fanfic Writers, assemble!)

You want him him to talk dirty to you? Why yes, you should keep good hygiene and not be smelly. Real Talk, though, because of his lack of emotion words, he probably would have difficulty conveying emotion verbally. But hey, his voice and tones are enough to get anyone aroused :V

Might secretly like dancing, but only simple ones. Like, The Waltz would be the most active he’d like

Might also hum tunes every so often. Despite that, he still prefers silence over noise of any kind.

“The Beauty of Isolation”

“Lord High Lord of the Moon,” or “Lord High Lord of Satellites”

Shit Dad

Probably studies magic the most and has a huge library filled to the brim with spell books and whatnot

Drago may be on his mind a lot, but probably not for any positive reason

Probably had Drago made for that thing in Taoism where two beings can connect one another metaphysically, and if one is in trouble (like they died or something), the other can help out (and resurrect if need be). Or, he wanted someone that wasn’t human on his side because he’s sure as Hell his siblings won’t side with him

While Drago is way more hotheaded than his Dad, it seems Shendu is more likely to let a petty grudge get in the way of his goals

Shendu hates family reunions

Dude’s a mad scientist

Probably regrets having Drago

Oh God, oh fuq, it’s the Big Bad Dragon that wants everything for himself. He must know what his name translates to because oh boy does he feel entitled to his mighty sovereignty. Like, he lusts for power so much that no amount of trickery could mask his clarity of greed, ya know, like a “true” dragon. What he wants, he will obtain, with let nothing obstruct his path… other than a petty grudge. He’s so full of passion and thermal rage he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst his brethren. He would even sink to deep lows to get what he desires, even if it is heavily depending on humans, lying, cheating, and stealing from his own family, doing forbidden things with humans to have a “son” he only wants to use as a playing piece, and even bend reality to his liking.

However, I must say it is impressive and admirable how adaptive he is with every situation he finds himself in. He is rather courageous and would try anything to reach his goal, even if it is siding with the enemy. Shendu speaks in sophistication and eloquence, to which the latter trait he shares with Xiang Zu, despite his childlike outbursts of rage.

He may not be the most elementally powerful sibling, but he is The Best with knowledge about other magics like spells and potions.

He does perform the stereotype of “dragons are beasts of greed” exceptionally well, which, I can admit, is pretty hot, being a monster lover myself

Something I’ve noticed with his face is that he lacks lips, which are replaced with external tooth-like structures. This actually forces the creators to make him expressive through other means, like his eyes. So, he’s expressive, and he fits the draconic poem I read in a book somewhere “Beware the glint in a dragons’ eye/ It is cold as ice to the liar/ It is sharp as a knife to the knave/ It is hard as iron to the greedy/ It is a burning flame to the brave.”

“The Beauty of Wrath”

“Lord High Lord of Fire,” or “Lord High Lord of The Thermal”

Sparky

Tchang Zu’s kingdom was probably located on the western coast of the USA

Would request for extravagant buildings and structures, as well as being a big fan of theatre (Beowulf, anyone?)

I can imagine him having a deep, boisterous laugh that is an award to trigger

Probably the best war strategist, everyone would hate playing Axis and Allies with him (He’d either play Russia for the size, or Germany because, well, you know)

(I’m just repeating what I’ve already stated, but whatever.) Similar to Tso Lan, Tchang Zu is careful with his words. However, what the latter does is speak only when he deems it appropriate, and sometimes with eloquence. When he does share his thoughts, it is in an assertive tone, making everyone stop and listen.

Tchang Zu is rarely ever caught off guard and surely plants himself where he stands, literally and figuratively. Despite his assertiveness, he does not come off as one of the most “authoritative” figures of the family. Instead, he’s more of an overseer and commander, making sure everything is falling in line under his, and his siblings’, iron-fist.

He is one of the few that would take the initiative when confronting a problem, which must be pretty terrifying for the opposition, seeing as how intimidating he is. Oof. Although he is on the shorter side, it does not bother him, for he knows his power is just as great as his siblings’.

Unlike his siblings, he wouldn’t be one of the “crafty” folk. What I mean is he isn’t a trickstery cuck like Hsi Wu and Shendu, but actually follows demon code and honor. I mean, not that “demon honor” is anything greater or equal to “human honor,” but the point still stands. What is “Demon Code and Honor” you ask? I dunno, watch Jackie Chan Adventures and observe demon culture yourself.

His demeanor may be slow and steady, but when he fights and flashes lightning, so much power and energy erupts from within. Majestic

Knows how to use semicolons properly

“The Beauty of Imperiality”

“Lord High Lord of Thunder,” or “Lord High Lord of Electricity”

Dai Guinguini

Dai Gui’s Kingdom was probably located on the western coast of Europe, maybe more specifically Spain

Let’s take that “hates pretty things“ even further beyond. The words “delicate and innocent“ usually come to mind when the words “pretty“ and “flower“ are shown. So, I headcanon he hates weak and fragile looking things, as well as cute. The more petite and dainty something looks, the more of an urge to destroy rises up

Probably needs to hold down a vomit when seeing romance in any medium (lava vomit?)

Also probably iffy on crystals and gems. Like, they are shiny and pretty and are sometimes delicate, but man, the massive structures these things can form into is crazy.

Dai Gui reminds me of the colossi in Shadow of the Colossus when viewed just wandering around. We know he acts like a brute and hates petite things, and is quite aggressive when he fights, but there’s something about him that makes me think of some majestic creature that likes to walk around all alone in a wide open space. There is some beauty to his “monstrosity” and I feel like that’s overlooked by him always being described as, well, a brute.

Although not as intense as Shendu’s, rage can also be a common sight with Dai Gui, but it’s mostly from his non preferred environments. Also, similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui appreciates his structural surroundings, but has a more keen interest in its earthly variety. Mountains, canyons, plains, plateaus, mesas, volcanos, deserts, etc. would be his ideal territory. Like I have mentioned before, I feel like he’d often roam around his landscape, constantly fixing and changing anything he desired.

Even though he doesn’t like flowers and such, I do not think he hates nature in general. Maybe most of it, but not all. He may like huge ass trees for their size and might, grasslands (like savannas) because, although grass is all over, it still gives a vast emptiness of calmness, which deserts give a vast emptiness of despair.

Quick note, I’m not saying he’s artistic and elegant. What I am saying he isn’t just a dumb idiot caveman that just lusts for destruction, but rather actually has a hobby of shaping the earth. Yes, he might find the terrestrial variety of the earth interesting, but he isn’t all, like, “Hmm yes, insert fancy art words here;” he’s more like “Hm yes, me like; I shall do more over there” and then just… does it without any pre planning or anything.

Not only does he like creating earthly structures, but also destroying them. Have you ever built something so cool (or have just seen something so cool) with Legos or whatever, and for some reason want to destroy it just because ‘ha ha destruction fun’? Yeah, that’s him sometimes.

I’d also like to add he likes bugs. Not only eating them, but also admiring their earth shaping tendencies. Their structures won’t stop him from eating them all, but he does like to see what they make before the big snack

I bet he likes to sunbathe sometimes. Mmmmm, warm rocks always feel good. Cool rocks, too! (This also made me think of belly rubs… hmm)

“The Beauty of Incessance”

“Lord High Lord of Earth,” or “Lord High Lord of Formation“

Mount Vesuvius

Po Kong’s kingdom was probably located in Japan, and/or Japan itself

Most likely the one to zone out on meetings with just thoughts on food (ADD maybe?)

Although she’d eat anything, Po Kong probably appreciates and remembers excellent meals. In addition, she probably could describe in detail of various tastes

Or, alternatively, since she eats so much all the food just blends together

Apparently, humans taste like chicken. So maybe, genetically create giant ass chickens, like in Skyrim, and feed her that if humans become scarce and/or too small for satisfaction

Probably the most difficult demon to satisfy, but not just because of hefty demands, but because she is practically the personification of gluttony. Like, I’m sure she can and will eat anything she wants, even inorganic things. She likes it? Nom. She hates it? Nom. She will never be fulfilled until she has consumed all… or until she explodes or whatever. I’m being dramatic.

Luckily, she is not picky. Unluckily, she is also picky. I guess it just depends on her hunger mood. One day, she may want just a bunch of salty snacks, likes chips and fries, and on another day she may want a giant bundt cake filled with gooey human flesh and blood.

Legit though, her kingdom/empire would be the number one food place in the entire world, with having the largest kitchen and all the best cooks (ha ha, like a collection. You could say she would have Too Many Cooks, but “too many” doesn’t exist in Po Kong World!). She would have food critics to make sure the meals she really wants to enjoy taste wonderful. Dude, like, imagine Gordon Ramsay and Guy Fieri at her command. She’d laugh her ass off with Ramsay yelling at people and Fieri with all of his antics; they’d be her favorite little humans. Funny, they’d both still be practically doing the job they do now, just being ordered around by a tyrannical demon who also likes food.

Has no interest in video games and picture shows, but does have the interest in the unique food that appears in them and of course demands them to be made for her.

To get on her “good side” is to be absolutely loyal to her and her eating habits. Ya gotta make the best meals, serve them in delightful ways (she actually doesn’t care about any fancy stuff, but appreciates the effort if done right).

I bet she likes getting spoiled. I mean, yeah, all the demons would want gifts rained down upon them, but they wouldn’t express as much glee as Po Kong would. She’d probably sound condescending half the time, but hey, at least she’s happy and smiles. Gotta give her big gifts though. Go big or go home, folks.

Just like us folk, she prefers Maximum Comfort when eating. That means sitting in her favorite chair, eating from her favorite dish, and watching her favorite entertainment pieces.

Ya into vore? She’s your woman *finger guns*

“The Beauty of Indulgence”

“Lord High Lady of the Mountains,” or “Lord High Lady of Beasts“

What do you call a fish without eyes? A Fsh

Bai Tza’s kingdom is factually Atlantis, but in the JCA universe, Atlantis might be close to the southern coast of Europe in the Mediterranean Sea

She’d be the one initially planning family get-togethers

Do I dare say I could imagine her being a dominatrix? Yeah sure

Similar to Tso Lan, she has/had an isolated kingdom away from humanity, but unlike her brother she most likely had subjects, which lived coastal in southern and south-east Europe, Northern Africa, and the Middle-East. Every civilization took a part in building her castle and its decor, but soon after it was complete, she sank it to the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea, never to be gazed upon with mortal eyes ever again.

Although she can survive in either, Bai Tza prefers warm and salty waters over cool and fresh waters.

Because of her unique bond with water, which literally has her able to morph to and fro between a liquid and solid state, she probably traveled and oversought numerous locations around the world, with any place being close to warm and salty seas. Did she hold dominion over them? Maybe, seeing as how just the Mediterranean Sea and most of its surrounding land is quite small for a kingdom when compared to her siblings’ territories.

Bai Tza may not be one of the most powerful siblings, but she is the most feared. She’s able to restrain herself when angry, she thinks outside the box when confronting obstacles, and her dynamism makes her tricky to confront. She is straightforward, blunt, and has a wicked and sharp tongue. Like stated before, she is one of the more outspoken relatives, being very dominant in every activity she takes part in. Wouldn’t surprise me if she was a control freak. However, enjoying her power so much leads her to be arrogant, making her hubris the number one weakness.

Bai Tza is probably the most cruel because she actively thinks about the damage she can cause instead of just doing it. Despite her cruelty, she isn’t heartless; she may in fact be the one that cares about her family the most, with having the most hatred for Shendu because of his betrayal to said family. On a side note with Drago, she probably rejects him mostly for his differences than his relation with Shendu, but of course the latter still counts. So, welcoming those into her tight personal circle would be a ‘no.’

Despite her evilness, she can and will compliment things that amuse her, and being super protective of them like personal property.

Would drown ships with anti-demon supporting humans on them, as well as anyone who enters her territory without permission. Probably could be convinced with gifts, but they better be good.

Theoretically could forgive past mistakes, but they must be made up with something equal or greater amount to said mistake.

Likes to wear jewelry, especially gold.

“The Beauty of Absolution“

“Lord High Lady of Water,“ or “Lord High Lady of the Abyss“

Froggy

Xiao Fung’s kingdom was probably located in Latin America

One of the smarter siblings, Xiao Fung prefers to discuss and debate over physically fighting. Not sure why, but maybe because he doesn’t view physical fighting as something “high ups” do; all of the dirty work is for the peasants beneath them. However, if forced and there being no other way, he would partake.

Knows the art of conversation quite well and usually dishes out the best conversations. He may not be eloquent like Tchang Zu, or very particular with his words like Tso Lan, but damn can he keep a conversation going if need be. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d yak with others if he’s bored. Maybe try talking some existential stuff with him; that’d be neat. Or keep asking ‘why’ like an annoying child, and he’d probably be tricked into answering each one, with getting annoyed more and more the longer it all goes on.

Despite his laziness, he still would do activities that require his assistance, as long as it’s something only he can do. If there is someone else available, he’ll leave it to them.

Xiao Fung is probably one of the more “approachable” demons, being how he doesn’t immediately give off “fear and respect me or die” vibes. He’s still intimidating, but to those with any amount of courage could muster up to confront him. Ya know, if it isn’t anything personal to him, then in that case you’d be the one telling everyone how terrifying he is, also, ya know, if he lets you go back to your village.

It wouldn’t surprise me if he had decision making issues when it comes to something he likes vs something useful/”right”

If a human went up to him and made a deal, he most likely would take it as long as he gets something in return that he wants, as well as the odds being in his favor.

Human antics are strange and insignificant, but they are still intriguing to him and would converse about it. Just don’t think you’d make him change his opinion on us; that won’t happen, fo sho.

The most forgiving and patient of the family, although it may not be by much. It most likely stems from his diplomatic character, being willing to discuss situations, even thoughts he leans more against. It’s really the subjects she is 100% not on board with he will not discuss, but something around 70%-60% he’d be more willing to listen to. Whether he actually agrees with you and is not just listening for amusement is another story.

Really enjoys music, favoring well put together orchestral.

Could hold some serious long notes, and probably sing in all sorts of keys (Dude. Singing bass)

Dude probably loves board games like chess.

Tchang Zu and him probably get along well because of shared interests in theatre and strategy games.

Would be the one to bring up topics to get everyone arguing if things got boring, like politics. In addition, he would also bring up playing the “Friendship Ender” games we all know and love, like Uno and Monopoly.

While Hsi Wu carries the “shit eating smile,” Xiao Fung has the “smug cat” face.

“The Beauty of Disruption“

“Lord High Lord of Wind,“ or “Lord High Lord of Currents“

Bonus Factoids Upon my Research

Theoretically, because it is stated that the Twelves Talismans are physical manifestations/vessels of Shendu’s powers, the other eight sorcerers (this includes Drago) could have their own Twelves Talismans

Apparently, killing/destroying a demon causes the disruption of balance within the universe, causing a “stronger evil“ to manifest and fill that “wound.“ So, again, theoretically, could a “stronger good“ happen as well if a situation summons/calls for it??

Sadly, according to Shendu, the all chi-absorption thing Drago did at the end of Season 5 is irreversible. So, canonically, Drago is technically forever stuck as a Cthulhu abomination. I am forever sad. Like, yeah I’m a terato lover, but I really prefer Drago as normal :’( However, Shendu answered to a human using a man-made chi spell. What if the actual Demon Sorcerers did a chi spell, to which apparently is conductible without external means? Could they be powerful enough to reverse it if all of them worked together???

[Chinese and English Name/Japanese Name- Chinese Translation/Japanese Translation]

Hsi Wu/Tokage- Evil Lizard/Small Lizard

Tso Lan/Kyuketsuki- Flood maker/ Vampire

Shendu/Kiryu- God of All (oof)/Spirit Dragon

Tchang Zu/Oni- Soldier of Madness/Ogre

Dai Gui/Shishi- Great Ogre/Stone Lion

Po Kong/Daikaiju- Feared Cliff/Giant Monster

Bai Tza/Nisei- Force of Defeat/Second Generation

Xiao Fung/Keroro- Little Wind/Frog

Early Christmas gift to y’all :V

God I hope this is good enough. I’ve been spending all my free time working on these guys just to get the original ask done. Don’t get me wrong, I did like doing this and forming at least some kind of unique character with each, but I am so exhausted from how long I’ve been working on it. It’s mainly my fault for being such a try hard, so don’t blame yourself, Anon who asked for this; you all good, bruv.

#jackie chan adventures #jca #eight demon sorcerers #demons #hsi wu #tso lan #shendu #tchang zu #dai gui #po kong #bai tza #xiao fung #canon #headcanons #oh my god this was a lot of work #and dedication

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anistarrose · 5 years ago

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Entropy (The Owl House)

Summary: As a witch, Eda thrives on unpredictability and chaos. Unfortunately, so does her curse.

Word count: 1734

Warnings: mild violence, but it’s no darker than the show itself

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/22518526

The first of what I expect will eventually become many Owl House fics from me! This story is set a few months before Luz’s arrival to the demon realm, but also has some big spoilers for Episode 4, so beware!

***

Eda believes that unpredictability is a witch’s best friend. Magic should always be a little wild, a little feral, a little chaotic, a fickle force of nature that keeps its users on its toes. Predictable magic is weak magic, diluted magic, practically homeopathic magic that’s left with nary a spark of what once made it so fierce and formidable.

This is the philosophy that’s made Eda the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles. It’s the philosophy that’s helped her dodge imprisonment for decades. It’s even the reason why against her better judgement, she invited a scrawny little demon with an extreme superiority complex into her home — and as loathe as she is to admit it to King’s face, the little wannabe tyrant has brightened up more of her days than she’d ever expected.

Adherence to a status quo leads only to stagnant magic. Routine makes the bile in Eda’s heart run dry. Variety is the spice of life, and despite all the challenges she’s had to overcome — or perhaps even because of them — Eda is living.

But the most potent curses are always the most ironic ones. The ones that weave themselves not out of foreign magic, but out of the victim’s own nature, turning strengths into weaknesses and prides into secret shames.

In Eda the Owl Lady’s case, this means that her curse is very wild, very feral, very chaotic, and never predictable. When the feathers begin to sprout and she feels the telltale pinpricks of quills in her hair, when her fangs begin to elongate and her stomach makes its appetite known through bloodcurdling growls, she only has a matter of minutes at best before she loses herself — only a few minutes, at best, to find her elixir and stave off her transformation.

And if there’s no elixir in reach to be found, well… her last few moments of lucidity are best spent ensuring that no one will be around to see her in this state, both for her sake and theirs.

***

Eda is unceremoniously tossed into a Conformatorium cell, unable to get to her feet before the cold iron anti-magic gate slides down in front of her. The gaps between the rungs look plenty wide enough for King to slip through, which means either the guards haven’t noticed him shuddering and trying to hide in Eda’s arms, or they just don’t care enough about whether he escapes to bother securing him better.

“The Warden will be seeing you shortly, Owl Lady!” one guard barks from behind his beaked black mask. “I’m sure the two of you will have plenty to discuss!”

As their jailers leave, King wriggles out of Eda’s arms. “Are they gone?” he meekly asks, poking his snout out between the bars and peering down the hallway.

“Yes, but not for long,” Eda grunts as she attempts to draw a small spell circle in the air. A few sparks surround her fingertip, but fizzle out before the circle is complete. “Drat. They learned their lesson from the last time I broke out of this place.”

“Then looks like it’s the King of Demons’ turn to save the day!” King declares, raising a tiny fist. “And what better place to find recruits for my army of darkness than here, in this cesspool of sinister machinations and forbidden black magics!”

He pokes his head into the adjacent cell, in which a demon with foot-long pointed nails leans against a wall. “You there! You look like a foul, black-hearted creature if I’ve ever seen one! How about you join my prison riot?”

“Are you joking? There’s nothing foul or black-hearted about overthrowing an unjust government institution that misuses its authority,” the demon scoffs, continuing to polish their nails. “Come back and talk to me again if you think of something that’s really evil.”

Muttering to himself and shaking his head, King trots over to the prisoner on the opposite side of Eda’s cell. “How about you? You’ve got a lot of life left ahead of you — do you really want to spend it all in a prison?”

The baby in the cell ignores him, preoccupied with repeatedly stabbing a knife into the floor.

King trudges back to Eda’s side, head hanging. Very quietly, he asks: “Eda, what if I’m just not cut out for demonic tyranny?”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” Eda rubs his head. “I’ve never seen a demon more power-hungry than you are, you evil little thing. And hey, it’s not all bad — now you know exactly what types of demons not to recruit for your army of darkness!”

King’s mood immediately lightens. “You’re right, I just need to look on the bright side of things! Like how at least you didn’t have your staff with you today, so it’s not going to end up locked away in the warden’s contraband pile!”

Eda tries to retort that if she’d had her staff, she never would’ve gotten captured in the first place — but her throat has gone dry. After all, she hasn’t had anything to drink in hours.

Why do the torches in the hallway suddenly hurt to look at?

“All they actually confiscated was that orange potion you were drinking,” King goes on, completely oblivious. “Good thing they didn’t take anything important, ha!”

Eda runs a hand through her hair. Her fingers graze quills, sprouting from her scalp.

No! Not here, not now! Not in front of —

“King, you have to leave,” she hisses, falling to her knees and clutching her chest. “Squirm through the bars and run. I’ll catch up later.”

“Are you serious? I’m not leaving you!” King exclaims. “I can’t fly back home unless you carry me!”

He’s so precious.

So stubborn.

such dumb, easy prey

“I know a way to break out of here, but it’s — it’s — you’ll just get caught in the crossfire if you stay.” Eda claps one hand over her mouth, hiding her extending fangs, and with her free hand, picks up King by the scruff of his neck and stuffs him through one of the holes in the iron grate. “The guards will all be distracted in just another minute or two, so don’t waste your chance! Run and meet me back at the Owl House!”

no, little demon

come back inside, little squirrel creature

Halfway across the Conformatorium’s main chamber, a door creaks open, and King finally takes it as his cue to bolt.

so bright

too bright

can’t see

kill the lights

“Eda the Owl Lady!” Warden Wrath’s voice echoes. “I’ve been waiting so long for this moment…”

new demon

bigger demon?

bigger meal

Warden Wrath is wholly unprepared for the explosion of claws and feathers that tears through iron like it’s parchment, then barrels out of the Owl Lady’s cell with a scream that would cause a banshee to lose their voice for a week. The monster rakes a clawed hand across the wall, shredding half a dozen torches into tinder with a single blow — then turns to face Wrath, baring her fangs and grinning.

Wrath has read of the bloodthirsty strixes, the owlishly metamorphosed victims of potent curses — but he’s never encountered one face-to-face, never stared into these black eyes that are simultaneously so empty and so cunning. A lesser warden might turn tail and flee, but Wrath knows his duty.

Strixes are unnatural. Improper. Unpredictable. Feral.

Unsuitable for society, but a worthy opponent for him.

He charges, swinging a scythe-hand, and Eda effortly catches it with her fangs. She swings Wrath around like a toy, sending him careening into the wall — but he has a trick up his sleeve, and he transforms his hand into a hammer that pries Eda’s jaws open before she can extricate her teeth from his flesh.

Wrath laughs as Eda recoils, as she spits out dark ichor and shards of shattered yellow fangs. The acidic ichor sizzles as it lands on the cobblestone floor, and its ghastly smell reaches Wrath even through the herb-stuffed beak of his mask.

Seeing their warden stagger backwards from the pool of acid, two guards rush Eda — a mistake, they realize a few seconds too late. They add a degree of entropy to the battle that the strix exploits, whirling around and delivering two powerful kicks from her rear legs — and before Wrath can even admonish his inferiors, they’ve been flung on top of him, their heavy metal armor pinning him to the ground.

Eda licks her lips, advancing slowly, savoring the moment. A tiny drop of icor dribbles down her chin from the corner of her mouth, and her batlike ears twitch with delight.

Wrath’s arms are pinned, and any sudden shapeshifting movement will surely provoke the strix to lunge before he can get an attack off. Unable to remove his mask, yet left with no other option, he points his head at Eda as best as he can, and opens his mouth.

As the spout of flame incinerates the likeliness of a raven beak and spills out to fill the hall, Eda screeches and extends her wings so quickly that a sonic boom tears though the Conformatorium. Cast-iron gates are shattered, cobblestone is pulverized into rubble, and leagues of demons and witches run free.

Nearly overwhelmed by the stampede, Wrath staggers to his feet just in time to see the strix take flight, and soar out the skylight at the top of the prison dome.

***

Eda awakens beneath a tree, scattered patches of feathers still present where the early-morning sunlight hasn’t yet crept through the leaves to dapple her skin. As she collects herself and steps out into the direct sunlight, her transformation fully reverts — though her stomach still grumbles for flesh and blood. She’ll just have to get home quickly and quell it with an elixir, instead.

When she walks into the Owl House, King almost immediately springs into her arms and breaks down sobbing. “I was so worried! I ran like you said but I heard so much screaming and I saw something get lit on fire and I wasn’t sure if that was what you meant to do or —”

“I never do exactly what I mean to do,” Eda tells him, forcing a smile. “It wouldn’t be very wild and unpredictable of me if I did, would it?”

She sets King down on the couch. “But you can always count on one thing — I’m never leaving home without my magic staff again.”

#the owl house #the owl house eda #the owl house king #eda the owl lady #warden wrath #the owl house spoilers #the owl house fanfiction #rosalia writes fic

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petaltrail · 5 years ago

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I know this borders on a whole lot of ‘stating the obvious’ territory, but the psychological / symbolic implications are Important(TM) so we’re talking about them anyway

Now that the episode’s been out a week, can we just look at the contrast between both times Ruby’s ‘seen’ her mom ? Yes I’m using the full images so I’m putting this under a read more but I’m holding every single one of you at gunpoint to read it----

There’s some debate as to whether this is supposed to be an actual memory or some kind of insight/connection to Summer or if it’s just Ruby’s mind’s eye, but I don’t think the answer is entirely important --- it’s still something we’re seeing from Ruby’s point of view. For the record, though, I personally think these scenes are both entirely indicative of Ruby’s mind’s eye. In volume 6, thinking of her mom is the climax; Maria told her it was integral to think of the people that love you, the people that you love --- to fill yourself with warmth, essentially. When her mind races and brings her right to Summer, it’s a triumphant scene --- the sun is rising ( or setting, whichever ) and lights up her mother’s figure brilliantly. A trail of petals in the wind seems to drive home the ephemeral nature of it... As does the fact that the place Ruby sees her at is where her grave marker is. As morbid as it is, this is one of Ruby’s strongest memories of her --- because so much of her life was spent recounting events to that gravestone. So all in all, she strikes a comforting figure and a welcome presence --- even if Summer still feels a bit too far away to leave the impression of intimacy one might expect from a daughter reflecting on her mother. This might be because in that moment, when Ruby’s doing her best to steady herself and her mental state, her mother intuitively pops into her subconscious as if to tell herself ‘now think, what would Mom do’ --- once again idolizing the mother she never quite got the chance to know.

This season... It strikes us entirely different. Summer is no longer standing on the edge of the cliff as if she might disappear any moment; she’s dead center of the shot, and the angle of the cliff against her anchoring point gives us ( or at least me ) an uncomfortable sense of tunnel vision, like there’s a source of anxiety and claustrophobia there that you can’t quite put a finger on. The grass is spotty but overgrown, unkempt, left to ruin; the sky is overcast, downright stormy --- but there’s also hints of smoke there, as if there’s destruction just beyond the horizon that we can’t see. Summer looks on much like she did last season, but her stance strikes us much differently when it’s angled to the side like this; her body language looks more tense, as if she’s powerless to intervene. Whereas last season Ruby’s mother came to mind amidst a triumphant resurgence of hope and love, she’s now being prompted to think of her in a fit of fear --- tainting the ‘ideal’ image from before. The skies are just as indicative of the state of Remnant as they are her mental state; Ruby’s been holding herself together well, but in this one moment of weakness, we can see exactly what she thinks about their odds and the situation as a whole. Not only that, but it’s a stark reminder of just what kind of burdens she’s inherited from her mother... Something Summer almost seems aware of in this scene. As brief as the scene is, it really does remind me of the dichotomy in Red Like Roses pt. II --- the daughter rightfully accusatory, the mother trying to explain her choices without excusing them and doing her best to steer her daughter away from them. Ruby just happens to be acting out both parts in her mind.

Last season, we see Summer slowly turn towards her daughter as she tucks some stray hair behind her ear, smiling all the while. Not only is her body language --- the slow turn, the fall of her arm --- open and loving, like an embrace waiting just off-screen, but her smile is utterly maternal and encouraging. It seems to say ‘there you are’ and ‘you’re doing just fine’ all at once. The music swells behind her, as does the sun --- like I said, it bathes her in a downright angelic light. It’s an entirely idealized version of her mother, but I wouldn’t consider this a bad thing ( nor an unexpected one ); losing her so young, it took Ruby a very, very long time to see her in a positive light in the first place. There was a bout of extreme confusion and anger there, particularly in her preteen years, that took a lot of patience and... Eventual acceptance of the situation to overcome. Because she’s so close to the edge of the cliff, we also see the ocean in the background, fully completing this sort of vignette of hope and possibilities --- now that Ruby’s starting to get a handle on her emotions and come to grips with her silver eyes, there’s so much more she can do to help. It’s uplifting.

This season is entirely Not that, that’s the short version. What little we can see of the ocean is grey and intimidating, cold and lifeless. Summer looks much less motherly and much more waif-like, powerless. There’s no swelling music, no gentle transition --- there’s a high-pitched screeching right out of a horror movie, and instead of one near-continuous shot, the scene cuts painfully between Ruby’s grief-stricken face and her mother. It’s abrupt and uncomfortable, just as the situation is for Ruby. Her emotions are nowhere near as stable as before, about as choppy as the sea behind her mother; as opposed to finally overcoming her anxieties, even if only for a moment when she needed that clarity most, her mother comes to her with all the significance of a Banshee: this path is harrowing, it’s been tread before, and it only leads to death. The destination --- Salem --- is standing right in front of Ruby, even if she’s only an illusion. In real time her silver eyes are going haywire in a way we’ve never seen, and it’s my belief that she’s on the verge of a panic attack brought on by an incredibly triggering situation; whereas the near-panic attack she had in volume 6 was brought on by memories she could at least somewhat control combined with a moment of intense pressure/stress, this is an attack brought on by really traumatic information as well as trauma she’d long-since buried. The close-up shot of her mother shows us Ruby’s internal panicked state in the form of the angle of the cliff ( as well as the aforementioned screech ), as if something’s closing in --- even if we’re not quite sure what. Her mother doesn’t look at her directly, not right away; she’s looking at something we can’t see. While her expression’s forlorn, she doesn’t leave the impression that she’s ignoring us intentionally. When she does look at Ruby directly, though...

Her mother gets closer, but we almost don’t want her to --- it feels like something might reach out and grab us or her any second. This is the expression I’d expect from Red Like Roses pt. II. This is a mother looking on as her child panics, virtually alone in her own mind. But this is also the image Ruby constructs of her, so the conflict of having a mother so clearly longing to help --- or at least showing extreme regret and empathy --- but not moving an inch... It’s really, really heartbreaking. Summer doesn’t look anxious or fearful, like she’s glued to the spot or anything, but there’s a sort of resigned pain and remorse there. It’s the role of a mother who has all these reasons, but has no intention of making excuses for leaving her daughter with all these burdens and battles. It’s a mother who both did what she could to fiercely protect her in life, but knows the harsh truth is that she should be there right now --- so her daughter didn’t just inherit a legacy, but directly learned and grew from it thanks to the one who already walked that path. No matter how fiercely Summer fought in life, the harsh truth is that she’s useless in death --- and Ruby knows it’s cruel, but it’s true. It’s real, it’s a raw and real emotion from one of the daughters left behind. Combined with Qrow’s mention that she went somewhere that not even Ozpin knew about... Neither Qrow nor Salem are the people she should be hearing this from, and Ruby knows it. Her inner projection of Summer knows it. To see a child --- a seventeen-year-old girl --- have the mental and emotional intelligence to both see her mother’s absence for what it is but also understand her mother’s intentions up to her death, and how she’d likely carry herself... It’s impressive, but a heavy weight. Like so many other things going on around Ruby these past couple of years, she can see how fucked up things are --- but still continues to cling to an attitude of ‘but it is what it is’ and tries to confront each twist and turn with resilience. It makes it all the more painful when the only thing this moment results in is her breaking down and letting out the most visceral, heart-wrenching wails I’ve heard in a long time.

Not only is this an indication of her mental state in that moment, but I think it’s also a strong indicator of where her mental state will go in the future. I hold tight to the headcanon ( barely even a headcanon at this point ) that Ruby has depression, PTSD, and anxiety --- and those do not a great combination make. She has absolutely no time to actually process and come to grips with her encounter with Salem, and while she once again tackles the newest problem --- read: Ironwood --- with the utmost resiliency, that same trait that makes her a great leader is incredibly worrying. It’s an indicator that eventually the elastic’s gonna snap back .

#* hc.#* hc but bigger and important and stuff.#yall im so UPSET please read this i wrote a lot i have carpal tunnel now #support your local emotionally wounded protagonist and her mun

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bitch-banshee · 5 years ago

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A Proposal and A Wedding- part ll

Part l

Word count: 1500+

Characters: Sterek (duh)

Warnings: Derek has a bit of sleep paralysis, depressing thoughts. It’s a hunk of whump

The Nightmare

Derek was going to lose his mind. All the colors and fittings and crafts that Lydia made him participate in was borderline ridiculous. He stared blankly at the ceiling, stiles snuggled closely into his side, fanning hot breath over his face. Derek took this moment to look over the face of his entire world whose deep breathing, caused his chest to rise and fall against Derek's rib cage. The closeness and touch caused his heart to swell in adoration.

After the whirlwind of excitement of them getting engaged they all had settled around, smiling and playing games with Sarah, Stiles never too far from Derek's side, when Lydia all but screeched “When do you want to start planning?” the buzzing coming from her sheer delight was contagious, and Derek had thought it a good idea to allow the Banshee to take the reins and plan their wedding.

“Stiles, when do you want to start planning” the alphas face was pressed firmly in the humans shoulder, arms wrapped around Stiles, fingers hooked into the front belt loops of the younger man's pants. Derek listened closely to the beat of stiles’s heart, the smell of his mate happy, akin to contentment.

“Uhh, you want me to decide, is that really wise sourwolf, I think we should set a date first, before we start planning anything, because we have to make sure that the pack will be around, and that Kira and Scott won't be busy with Kennedy, since he's due soon, and newborns require a lot of time and effort. Also, you know that Erica and Boyd are starting to think about starting a family. Then there's also the fact that Jackson and Ethan are still going through the adoption process…There’s a lot we have to plan around der, and the biggest thing is making sure we have a date that works for everyone.”

Derek's heart started to slam against his chest, Stiles was so caring and lovely, all he asked was when he wanted to start planning. But based off the rant he was on, he'd already thought about it. Derek easily swept stiles up to silence with his lips. A small noise escaped the human as he practically melted against the alpha’s chest. the kiss hindered due to their position, Stiles’s back to Derek’s chest, the kiss calming both their racing hearts, flooding them both with calm and tranquil energy.

When Derek pulled back he was staring in the drooped and glassy eyes of his lover. “We can start in a month, Okay Lydia?” Derek called, still looking into the eyes of his Mate. “now everyone out, we will see you all next week”

The next few days are easy. So easy Derek starts to panic a little bit, when has life ever been this easy, this perfect, not since before the fire. But it feels so good, and Derek starts to feel guilty because why does he deserve to be this happy when Cora is refusing to speak to him, and Peter is out doing god knows what, and the rest of his family is a mix of ash,dust and grief. Slowly he starts the descent into his ever present sadness, then stiles comes breezing in.

His smile is large, beautiful and his eyes look breathtaking in the golden sunset flooding through the windows. Derek steels himself, feeling caught and he knows Stiles can see right through him, through the mask of indifference he's expertly put on his face.

“Derek?” Stiles's voice is soft, supple and it slides over Derek's spine and settles in his stomach. Derek wants to snap at the feeling, he doesn't deserve it, the scowl that sets on his face doesn't even surprise stiles. Instead the human swiftly crosses the room and stands in front of Derek, the softness of his features caressing Derek's beating heart.

“You're okay” Stiles says, and it's not a question but its not a demand either. Tentatively stiles puts his hand on Derek’s arms, running long, warm fingers over the expanse of Derek's skin. “Want to talk about what's on your mind?” the sound is slightly muffled, Stiles’s mouth resting against The shoulders of the older man. Does he? Does Derek want to bring up his dead family and what he feels like his shortcomings are, and really seriously ask stiles if he wants this.

A soft shake of his head has stiles retreating, “okay, want to talk about something else” Stiles absolutely knows the answer before Derek opens his mouth because all of a sudden the alpha is being tugged toward the couch. The tv is being turned on and stiles is pulling up Orange is the New Black, picking up where they left off. Derek feels himself relax, the weight of stiles against him grounding him to the now. The harsh and blood splattered memories drifting away, leaving him here, in comfortable silence with his mate.

“I love you” it slips from his lips soft and sure and Stiles’s heartbeat upticks before he turns and presses and kiss into Derek's wrist.

After too many episodes and drooping eyes, Derek pulls stiles to bed. It's clumsy and sleepy and it just warms Derek further. “M’bed” Stiles mumbles before tripping again and Derek just scoops him up and carries him.

When he falls into bed, arms wrapped tightly around the skinny frame of the light of his life, it takes some effort to fall asleep. But he does, Stiles has always been able to chase away the nightmares, but there's something about tonight. Something about how he's let the sadness fester and his self-loathing linger clings to his heart and solidifies his bones.

It makes him heavy and unable to move, his eyes pop open, the glow of red against the ceiling. The sinking feeling of fear laces through him and he sees something. In the corner of his eye its a body and its slinking its way to him. He tries with all his might to lift himself, to protect stiles, to protect himself. A hard vicious growl rips from his lips and a cold laugh answers.

“C’mon sweetheart you know better than that” the voice freezes Derek. It can't be, she's dead, he saw it with his own eyes. They'd set her aflame, in a sick twist of fate and irony. Kate's face became illuminated by the moonlight. Long fangs and clear eyes. “You thought you could get rid of me?” she tsks and comes closer, climbing over Derek and he sees her face, really sees it.

The skin is charred, black and ugly. Some places peeled away revealing bones. “You'll never be rid of me sweetheart, not even your little bitch can keep me away. You're mine Derek” she reaches out to touch him and he snarls and snaps. Her hand veers back quickly and she scolds him, loud and harsh in his ears. “Derek!” but it doesn't sound like her anymore. Then the world is shaking, “Derek, Wake up!” its faint, cloudy in his mind.

Stiles.

Then he shooting upward, eyes wide, frantic. His red eyes land on stiles, the usual honey color dark and swirling with confusion, worry and fear. “Was it a nightmare, are you okay? You're sweating, Baby?” Stiles's voice has an assertion to it, like Derek isn't getting out of this with a shrug. So he takes a deep breath, preparing himself to divulge back into his dream. But what comes out of his mouth is not what was in his mind.

“Do you really want to get married to me?” Stiles blanches, the widening of his eyes startles Derek to standing. “What? Derek, yes” stiles scrambles across the mattress, gripping Derek's hands like he’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Yes i want to get married, to you, no one else. I love you. What's happened, talk to me please” Stiles is tugging at him, but Derek is stock still and immovable. The scent of stiles’s fear own gripping him and sending a shudder over his skin. “I had a bad dream, it's just reminded me that you need to know what you're agreeing to” Derek shrugs and Stiles’s arms fall away.

“What i'm getting into? Are you dense Derek. I love you, i have since i saw you in the woods the day after Scott was bitten and it only gets deeper and more solid as the days go by. Yes i'm sure, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to adopt kids with you, and go on dates and have our wedding anniversary. I love you so much and if i didn't i would not have said yes.” Stiles is breathing hard, the rise and fall of his chest matching the rapid beating of his heart.

Derek breathes deeply and his eyes go soft. “I’m sorry, Stiles, i'm so sorry” The alpha falls to his knees next to the bed and pulls stiles to him.

Stiles goes willingly, and Derek crawls back into the bed. They fall asleep now equally wrapped around each other. Derek afraid of the nightmares and Stiles afraid of losing the best thing in his life.

——————————————————————————

Taglist: @teenwolfechoes @terminallygenius @just-jordie-things @dreamsfollowed99 @abloomdivinity

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ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut · 7 years ago

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O Fortuna Chapter 8: No More Running

Karin: Hi guys! Here with another chapter! Last chapter seemed to have confused some people on why Alya acted out like that, and I took inspiration from her episode with Lady Wifi and how she acted in Origins that she seems to have a rigid sense of justice when it comes to heroes and how people should act. As seen in Lady Wifi, she doesn’t like unfair bullshit and being treated unfairly or used and I think that if Alya was Ladybug, she would get annoyed that someone was using her for their own gain whereas Marinette got mad Lila was using it to get closer to Adrien. She also is overprotective of her friends and she was mad that Adrien was about to reveal their identities without consulting her or considering what could happen afterwards.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Miraculous.

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“Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.”

― William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

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Chapter Eight: No More Running

Lila sniffled as she walked along the street, clutching the broken necklace in her hands. Her teary eyes caught a poster of Ladybug and she snarled at the offending poster.

“Stupid Ladybug! She ruined my chances with Adrien!” Lila wanted to rip the poster in two. “What does she know about being a hero anyway? She abuses her power to attack people when she doesn’t like them! What kind of hero is that?”

Suddenly, a black butterfly flew towards the necklace, zapping it together with an eerie black aura. A voice spoke in Lila’s head, and she found it to be soothing against the fury and shame she felt.

“Voplina…” the voice spoke eloquently. “I hear your cries. Ladybug humiliated you in front of the boy you like. Perhaps it’s time a new hero stepped in to show her how a real hero should act.”

A purple glowing butterfly mask appeared in front of her face, and Lila’s eyes glinted maliciously.

“Sure, Hawkmoth. I’ll show her how it’s done.”

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Marinette wondered if she perhaps had taken up banging her head against the tree trunk after all, and knocked herself out because she was sure she didn’t have this much bad luck in one day, did she?

“Marinette! Stop staring at it and swat it away!” Chloe ordered, still clutching onto Marinette tightly. Duusu just gave them a watery gaze, the rejection fresh in her eyes.

Alas, yes, apparently she did.

Marinette made a noise of displeasure and promptly dropped Chloe on her butt. Chloe thumped against the ground with a shriek, and Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Duusu surveyed her new master cautiously, not sure how she was going to react to seeing her again, but Marinette continued muttering to herself.

“What was that for?!” Chloe exclaimed, raising from the ground to give Marinette hell. “Do you know who my father is?! I’ll have you know these clothes are worth more than your parents’ bakery, Marinette, and you got them dirty—”

She stopped ranting immediately when Marinette’s eyes snapped open to glare at her, the color glinting brilliantly against her features. Chloe felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Chloe, I’m going to say this once, and only once.” Marinette started, her bad mood from today overflowing. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about who your father is or how much your clothes are worth or even about you in general; so, please, for just a little bit, shut the fuck up.”

Chloe gaped at her like a fish, and Marinette turned to her second issue, the blue kwami watching her in fear. Her feet itched to run away, to leave the kwami behind, but she found herself frozen as she looked into Duusu’s eyes. The sadness. The agony. And Marinette found she was seeing herself reflected in those eyes. Guilt crawled up to squeeze her heart, and Marinette suddenly realized how cruel she had been to Duusu. She could hear a voice in her mind that sounded like Tikki reprimanding on how harsh she was to her and Duusu. She was a hypocrite.

She abandoned Duusu like she herself was afraid of being abandoned because of the things she did. Unlike her though, Duusu couldn’t change how she was involved with the Miraculous. Kwamis didn’t have a choice to be inactive. It was their masters that called all the shots.

‘I’m the worst…’ Marinette mourned, her shoulders dropping. ‘I’ve been so selfish that I haven’t considered how Tikki or Duusu feel at my rejection. I only cared about my own fears.’

“Duusu…” Marinette called, and the peacock kwami perked up, surprise at her holder acknowledging her. “Why are you here? I… I’m sorry but I can’t accept your miraculous. Monsieur Agreste made a mistake. I know you awakened because of me… but trust me, I’m not good for you. I’ll only weigh you down…” Marinette explained softly. Duusu looked at her in sorrow.

“That’s not true, Master. I came alive because I felt your conviction and beliefs. You are truly meant for a miraculous. Gabriel doesn’t make mistakes.” Duusu said, just as soft, and the two found their individual despairs linking on the same level, each saddened that the other couldn’t seem to agree with their sentiments.

“Um… sorry but what’s this thing, Marinette? Why is it calling you Master? Also, what’s this about Adrien’s dad?” Chloe interrupted, wary that Marinette would rain wraith upon her again. For someone who was closed off and quiet, she didn’t expect Marinette to have such a fiery temper. “You all keep mentioning something called a miraculous…” Chloe trailed off. Marinette and Duusu turned to her, both just remembering she was there.

“Marinette is my chosen.” Duusu supplied, stating it as if it was fact. Marinette winced.

“Chloe…” Marinette hesitated, not sure what to say or how much to say. “You know how Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Hawkmoth have items called Miraculous, right?” Chloe hmphed and flipped her hair.

“You mean those gaudy pieces of jewelry they wear? Yeah, not something I would personally wear.” Chloe crossed her arms.

“Well, they are what make them… well them.” Marinette replied. “They need those jewelry pieces in order to transform and be their other personas.”

“Master, are you sure you should be telling her this?” Duusu questioned, shocked at how her chosen was just informing Chloe everything. Marinette shrugged.

“Well, nothing can be done about it now. Let’s take you back to Monsieur Agreste, ASAP.” Marinette said, grabbing her bag from the ground. “Besides, she’ll just follow me everywhere screaming like a banshee if I don’t give her some information.”

“Rude! I do not sound like a banshee!” Chloe huffed. Duusu giggled, but stopped as if she realized something.

“Oh! Master, I forgot! I was trailing Adrien Agreste because he has something really important of Gabriel’s! Something that can’t be replaced!” Duusu began panicking.

“You mean like a piece of jewelry?” Marinette raised an eyebrow. Duusu shook her head.

“No, it is a book! An ancient book that holds many secrets about the Miraculous! It can’t fall into the wrong hands.” Duusu fretted. Chloe and Marinette looked at her and then at each other.

“I remember Adrien reading a book in the library when he was with Lila.” Marinette recalled.

“What happened to it?” Chloe asked, curious. Marinette had a pensive expression, tapping her chin with her finger.

“Let’s see… that’s right! Lila took it! And then—gah!” Marinette gasped as it suddenly hit her. She raced over to the trash can, retrieving the tome. Chloe blanched.

“You’re actually touching that thing after it’s been in the trash?” Chloe looked green at the thought of touching trash. Marinette rolled her eyes, wiping the book off with her scarf.

“Relax. It’s fine. Clothes can be washed and so can skin.” Marinette turned to Duusu. “Alright, we have the book, now let’s return you and it to Monsieur Agreste.”

“You won’t be going to claim my Miraculous?” Duusu asked sadly. Marinette looked at her with a pained expression, feeling awful for disappointing yet another kwami. She gently picked Duusu out of the air and placed her in her scarf.

“Let’s get you back.” Marinette replied, not wanting to give Duusu false hope, but also not wanting to be mean like she was before.

“Hold on, I’m coming too.” Chloe claimed. Marinette watched her with wide eyes. Chloe scoffed at her expression. “You can’t expect me to go home and forget all about this, can you? I want answers on why Adrien is being so secretive! Something’s not right here!” Chloe crossed her arms. Marinette sighed and starting walking, gesturing her to follow.

“Fine, but no more screeching. You’ll attract attention.”

“Hmph! I do not screech.”

Duusu giggled at the new banshee lady arguing with her master. Clearly, she doesn’t pay attention to how she speaks.

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Alya glared at the scene below her from the Eiffel Tower. The wind rustled her hair gently while she hugged her knees close to her chest.

“Stupid Nino, stupid Marinette, stupid Lila, stupid Adrien…” she grumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “and stupid Ladybug!” she hissed at the thought of the previous Ladybug. Her lips quivered as she kept hearing Adrien’s jab in her mind. She groaned and banged on her head a couple of times. “Dammit! He’s got me thinking about her! Tikki told us not to dwell on her and here I am doing just that!”

‘But clearly Adrien hasn’t been listening so why should you?’ her mind grumbled. She pulled on her loose hair and let out a yell of frustration. She wanted to hit something! Perhaps she had been cruel, but hadn’t Adrien been crueler to attack her at her insecurities? He knew of her feelings of being second best—the doubt in her mind at not being chosen originally like he had been.

She knew she shouldn’t wonder on the what ifs or the hows like Tikki told her, but she couldn’t help her curiosity. Why exactly did she get a miraculous? What had the previous Ladybug been thinking at the time when she chose her to take her place? Alya wondered if she knew her. How did the previous Ladybug know she was meant for the job? Was it just a fluke and she chose a random person, or was it because the previous Ladybug saw something in her?

Alya remembered the first time she opened the box to the Ladybug Miraculous. She remembered the crestfallen face of Tikki as the kwami informed her she was the new hero of Paris. Alya had been ecstatic at the thought of saving Paris. She was so grateful to the previous Ladybug for giving her this chance that she took up the previous one’s title in her honor. To honor Ladybug’s greatness for choosing the right hero for Paris.

And then she remembered meeting up with Chat Noir. The absolute confusion and sorrow on his face when he saw her and not his original Ladybug. What had Adrien felt when Alya told him the previous Ladybug wasn’t coming back? Was he that distraught by his Ladybug’s disappearance that he still thought about it to this very day? Was Alya not good enough to be his partner? To be his friend? If he still thought about the previous Ladybug, then perhaps she hadn’t been good enough at either of those things. Her amber eyes stung, unshed tears hanging in them, making them glisten.

“It’s not fair!” she cried, burying her head in her knees. “Why did she have to leave? Why didn’t she at least tell me why, so I wouldn’t be here second guessing myself? Why had she chosen me?” her voice cracked.

Because if Chat—Adrien—didn’t think she was good enough, then how could the previous Ladybug think she was good enough to take up her mantle?

She was sure if she released her transformation, Tikki would tell her things like not to worry about it or think on these thoughts, but it was too late. Adrien had found the perfect crack in her armor and broke it into pieces. It was too late to forget about it now.

However, before she could mourn any further, a light from the sky caught her attention. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the meteor tumbling towards Paris.

“Not good!” she flicked her yoyo into action and flew towards the trouble.

Unfortunately for her, someone else beat her to it.

Another masked superhero jumped in front of the meteor, banishing it away. The crowds of people cheered in relief at the threat being defused. The masked hero looked like an orange fox, with her pointed ears, scarfed tail, and orange bodysuit. Her eyes shined with a mischievous charm.

“People of Paris! Never fear for I am Volpina and I am here to protect you better than Ladybug and Chat Noir ever could!” she shouted, spreading her arms. The crowds below chanted her name over and over making Volpina smirk. Alya just blinked in confusion.

“What the…?” Deciding to be cautious, she approached the new hero quietly. She took a defensive stance just in case she turned out to be a threat. “Who are you?” she demanded. Volpina simply smirked and flicked her hair.

“I told you—I am Volpina! I’m the new hero!” she stared right into Ladybug’s eyes and Alya wanted to squirm. “I told you I was for real. I came to help fight against Hawkmoth.” Ladybug’s eyes widened.

“Lila?!” she exclaimed. How is this possible? She broke the necklace in half. A Miraculous wouldn’t be so easily destroyed. Lila—or Volpina—simply giggled and flicked some dust off her shoulder.

“You failed my test—I was purposefully telling Adrien about me to get your attention, and you went ballistic with the fake Miraculous I had.” Volpina’s eyes narrow. “Not very smart for a hero, are you?”

Ladybug bristled at the jab. Her teeth gritted in her mouth.

“I was protecting a civilian from a liar.” Volpina looked unimpressed.

“Oh really? Well looks at us now. I’m Volpina and I’m here. Guess your lie detector isn’t as good as you thought, now is it?” Ladybug winced at her tone, guilt and shame filling her at realizing Lila was right. She was here now, and clearly a superhero, which means that Alya was a jerk for nothing. Her shoulders slumped. She really felt like a bad person now.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You clearly have proven your persona.” Ladybug conceded. Volpina grinned smugly and walked over to Ladybug, looping an arm around her shoulder.

“That’s the spirit! Now, onto more important things.” Volpina turned serious. “I believe I know the location of Hawkmoth’s lair.” Ladybug’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?! Where is it?” Alya grabbed her arm. Volpina chuckled and slipped out of her hold. She gestured Ladybug to follow her.

“Over here! This way!”

“Wait… shouldn’t we call Chat?” Alya questioned. She took out her compact and began to phone him. Volpina slapped her hand on the compact and giggled.

“Us girls can handle it, I’m sure! Besides, don’t you wanna show Chat at how great of a hero you are?” Volpina beckoned. Alya looked down at her compact pensively, recalling at how Adrien lashed out at her. His faith in her being a hero seemed to diminish marginally. She had to prove to him she was meant for the position of Ladybug!

She had to make him forget about the previous Ladybug…

“Alright.” Ladybug agreed, putting her compact away. “Let’s go.”

Volpina smiled good naturedly and they were off.

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Adrien had arrived home a while ago, having locked himself in his room in order to cool off. Plagg watched him pace back and forth in frustration while the kwami munched on his favorite cheese. He swallowed, making a loud gulping sound.

“What’s the big deal? So you and Alya had a fight. It happens.” Plagg chimed in. Adrien shook his head.

“Yeah, but this was something really big, Plagg.” Adrien responded, rustling his golden hair. “Alya really acted out, and then I went and let my anger get the best of me and really hurt her. We both were wrong.”

“Well maybe she needs to hear it so she can stop being so much of a tight ass when it comes to how a hero should behave.” Plagg chomped on another piece of cheese. Adrien glared at him.

“Plagg! That’s mean.”

“Well it’s not my fault you subconsciously compare her to the previous Ladybug all the time. You’re always saying ‘oh we’re such a great team but if we had the other Ladybug we’d be better’ or ‘I wonder what the other Ladybug would do in this situation’… you’re like a broken record at times after akuma encounters.” Plagg explained. Adrien looked at the floor in shame.

“I didn’t…”

“Face it, kid. You’ve been holding onto the notion that Alya isn’t your Ladybug behind her back ever since she showed up with the earrings.” Plagg scolded. Adrien wanted to the floor to open and swallow him up. Guilt welled up within him, unleashing the hurt and abandonment he felt from the first Ladybug leaving him behind without any explanation.

“Alya is a great Ladybug…” Adrien protested weakly in order to defend himself. Plagg pinned a serious stare at him, his green eyes seeing right through his chosen.

“But she’s not your Ladybug.”

Ashamed at Plagg’s statement, Adrien stopped pacing and sat on his couch, thinking to himself. Guilty that Plagg was right, he sighed and rubbed his temples.

“I just… I can’t help it… Ladybug was chosen like I was. I felt a connection with her. Yeah, Alya’s great and we work great, but it’s not…”

“It’s not like you’re in sync like it’s second nature.” Plagg supplied for him.

“Yeah…” Adrien admitted. Plagg contemplated telling him the truth behind the Ladybug and Cat miraculous, but knew it would only cause his chosen more distress at learning that Ladybug and Chat Noir were two halves of a whole, and therefore that is why he felt such a strong connection with her. It wouldn’t be good to weigh him down with more abandonment issues, and frankly a depressed Adrien was a whiny Adrien, and Plagg did not enjoy a whiny Adrien.

Also, he didn’t think he could bare the look of absolute despair at knowing Adrien lost his other half. Despite how he acted, Adrien was precious to him. His kitten mattered to him.

And so Plagg kept it to himself.

“I owe Alya an apology…” Adrien voiced out, rubbing his neck. “She didn’t… she doesn’t deserve to be named as second best as my partner in my mind. Even if she was wrong, I went too far with comparing her to Ladybug.” He concluded. Plagg hummed.

“I would advise you to talk to her how you feel. It will do your partnership and friendship good to be honest about these things.” Plagg advised. Adrien gave him a tired smile and scratched behind Plagg’s ear. Plagg, in response, purred.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I always am.”

------------------------------------------

“How much longer are we going to go?” Ladybug asked Volpina, as they traveled further and further from the populace. Volpina gave her a smile. Alya had to admit that it was smart of Hawkmoth to be hidden among the outskirts of Paris.

“Don’t worry, just a little longer.” Volpina promised as they went deeper into the woods. They stopped in a clearing, and Volpina turned to her.

“I’ll see if the coast is clear first before we both head in, okay?” Volpina volunteered. Alya furrowed her brow in confusion.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for us to go in together?” Ladybug questioned. Volpina shook her head.

“We can’t afford you getting captured. Hawkmoth is after your Miraculous, so it would be better not to risk you.” Volpina reasoned. With that, she went off ahead, leaving Ladybug in the clearing. Alya fidgeted, keeping her yoyo close to her, apprehension holding her.

So this was it… she was going to face Hawkmoth.

She wondered what Adrien will say when she defeats Hawkmoth. This is what they’ve worked for, finally coming to fruition. A part of her was saddened though, that he wasn’t here to fight with her. However, she knew this was something she had to do so she could prove to him that she was meant to be the true Ladybug.

Rustling caught her attention, and Alya’s eyes widened when she caught sight of Chat Noir coming out of the forest.

“Chat! What are you doing here?” she asked. Yet, she was caught off guard when Chat Noir glowered at her.

“I see you’re too busy to give me a call.” Chat snarled. He stepped forward more, making Alya feel uneasy. “What kind of partner are you? Some hero you are—you don’t even tell me we’re going after Hawkmoth.”

“Wha…?” Alya voiced out. “How did you know?” she asked. Chat Noir advanced on her, and Alya found herself taking steps back from him.

“I saw you and the new hero together! Are you replacing me too? Am I not good enough for a partner?” Chat hissed.

“No, Chat! How could you think that? I just wanted to prove to you I was a good hero!” Alya protested. Chat laughed mirthlessly.

“You? A good hero? Yeah right. I’d be so much better off without you.” Chat charged at her, baton raised and Alya hurriedly dodged. She readied her yoyo and flew away from him.

“Chat! What are you doing?” Alya yelled. Chat smirked.

“Getting rid of you of course.”

With that, he went after her and Alya flew away. She ran into the forest with Chat Noir in pursuit. Her mind was racing.

‘What the hell is going on?! This isn’t Chat at all!’ Alya panicked. She ran as fast as she could, as Chat destroyed whatever was in his path to get to her. ‘Did Hawkmoth do something to him?!’

She skidded to a stop, coming face to face with a cliff, and she turned to see Chat zeroing in on her.

“Chat, listen to me! Hawkmoth is controlling you! I’m your friend remember!” she backed up, finding herself at the edge. Chat smirked, the cruelty shining in his eyes looking so alien on him. “Volpina! Help!” Alya called.

“It’s just us here, Ladybug.” Chat grinned maliciously. “It’s time Paris got its real hero.”

With that, he charged and shoved her off the cliff. Alya screamed, feeling the pull of gravity weighing her down to the ground, and flung her yoyo out to save herself. Her yoyo caught and she found herself coming to a stop, the force of the pull causing her arm to dislocate. Alya cried in agony at the pain. Tears came to her eyes as she gritted her teeth. She raised her other hand to grip the wire of her yoyo as she hung off the cliff. A giggle sounded above her, and Alya bit through the pain to look up. Instead of Chat, there stood Volpina, grinning like a cat that just ensnared the canary in her trap.

“Honestly, you’re so gullible! And here I thought fooling you would actually be a challenge.” Volpina sneered. Alya clenched her teeth, anger rising within her at the betrayal becoming clear.

“You tricked me!”

“Yes, but you just made it so easy.” Volpina teased. “Now if you excuse me, I’ll be off to claim my prize before coming back to get your Miraculous.” Suddenly, a purple butterfly mask appeared in front of her face, obviously showing the displeasure of Hawkmoth at her statement. “Calm down, Hawkmoth! You’ll get your Miraculous! But for now, it’s my time to shine!” with that, Volpina left Alya hanging there. Alya struggled against the wire, trying in vain to pull herself up. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes, hurt consuming her.

‘I can’t believe I fell for her tricks!’ Alya cursed herself. She began pulling herself up slowly, slipping on the wire. ‘I have to warn Chat! Lila is going to go after him next!’

----------------------------

Marinette felt her nerves overflow as she stood in front of the gates to the Agreste mansion. Her fingers shook as she pressed the call button to the intercom.

“Hello, what is it?” Natalie’s voice drifted through the speakers.

“H-hi, we’re here to see Monsieur Agreste.” Marinette anxiously said. “We have something of his.” She added. The camera examined her and Chloe, and Marinette felt the skepticism through the lens. She wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Monsieur Agreste is very busy.” Natalie said.

“It’s important.” Marinette stressed. “He’ll want to see us.”

“Very well.” The camera disappeared and the gates opened. Marinette and Chloe sighed in relief. Duusu peeked out from Marinette’s scarf.

“Okay, now we’ll return his book and be on our way.” Marinette announced. Chloe glared.

“Wait! Just like that? I want an explanation here!” Chloe stamped her foot.

‘So would I, actually…’ Marinette shook her head at that and chose to ignore Chloe, making her way across the courtyard to the front doors. Surprisingly, it was Gabriel who slammed open the door. He must have heard from Natalie who exactly was trying to meet with him. His icy blue eyes widened at seeing Marinette right at his doorstep; however, when he caught sight of Chloe, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Marinette… how can I help you?” Gabriel spoke, not giving any of his thoughts away. Nevertheless, he was even more shocked when Duusu revealed herself from Marinette’s scarf. Duusu looked guilty, fiddling her paws.

“I… Gabriel, I’m sorry.” Duusu told him with remorse. Gabriel quickly gestured them inside, to which the three followed sweet.

“Come this way.” He gestured to his office. Once they were shut securely inside the room, he swiftly turned to them in outrage.

“Duusu! What have you done?” he demanded for answers. Marinette jumped to Duusu’s defense.

“It wasn’t her fault, Monsieur Agreste! She accidentally found me and Chloe together. It couldn’t be helped.” Marinette explained. Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Duusu, what were you doing out in the open like that? You’ve could’ve been seen by anyone.” He scolded the kwami, but there was no bite to it like before.

“I was following Adrien.” Duusu confessed. “I saw him take the Miraculous book away from your safe and I knew I had to go after him to get it back.” Marinette brought out the tome and Gabriel hurriedly retrieved it, surveying it for any damage, panic clear in his eyes.

“It’s fine, Monsieur Agreste.” Marinette told him gently. “A girl stole it from Adrien and we found it in the trash can, but nothing was damaged.”

“I see.” Gabriel noted.

“Sooo… am I going to get any kind of explanation here?” Chloe decided then that she needed to speak, tapping her foot loudly. Gabriel seemed to have just realized she was there and replied with silence. This made Chloe growl and start yelling, “I know Adrien knows Ladybug! And you gave Marinette some kind of mutant bird that can make her like Ladybug and Chat Noir! How do you know all of this stuff?! Are you guys part of some secret agency?! Tell me already!”

“Mademoiselle Bourgeois.” Gabriel spoke coldly, in a tone that anyone with a brain would know not to cross him, and Chloe squeaked. “Will you kindly lower your voice? My assistant doesn’t have a clue of what we’re discussing, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“We’re not discussing anything.” Marinette claimed, gesturing Duusu to return to Gabriel, “We’ve just come back to give Duusu and the book back to you. We’ll be leaving now.”

“Marinette, if you would only listen—”

“Monsieur, with all due respect, you have chosen the wrong person. I know Duusu says you don’t make mistakes, but trust me when I say this is the one time you made a bad judgement call.” Marinette dismissed it, frowning.

Before Gabriel could protest, the door to his office slammed open and a frantic Natalie appeared.

“Monsieur Gabriel! Adrien’s in danger!”

Duusu had hidden in Marinette’s scarf, as the three people gave off an expression of alarm, and raced to follow Natalie to Adrien’s room.”

----------------------------

Adrien’s eyes were wide as he looked upon the fox hero. She was smiling graciously at him and gave a coy wink.

“Hello, handsome boy!” she greeted. He could feel Plagg squirm inside his shirt. “What do you think of my superhero outfit? Cute, no?” she teased.

“Um… it’s very nice.” He blinked confused. The heroine giggled.

“Adrien! It’s me, Lila!” she grinned.

“Wha—Lila?!” Adrien exclaimed. Lila turned serious and grasped his hands.

“I’ve come to show you I wasn’t a liar like Ladybug claimed.” Lila gestured to herself. “I am Volpina and I’m really here to protect Paris!” Lila claimed. She stepped closer to him and Adrien backed up warily. “Don’t worry, Adrien. I won’t hurt you.” She reached a hand out to touch his face, but a wire quickly wrapped around her wrist, yanking her away from Adrien. Lila yelped.

Adrien’s emerald eyes were wide when he saw Ladybug—Alya—glaring down at Lila with righteous fury. Her amber eyes flared to life like a golden blaze.

“Ladybug?!” he yelled in shock.

“Adrien! She’s an akuma!” Ladybug shouted. She pulled on the wire harshly with one arm, causing Lila to screech in pain at being flung across the room into the wall. “She’s Volpina and she tried to kill me!”

“If only you stayed dead!” Volpina snarled, pulling against the wire. “If you hadn’t ruined my date with Adrien then this wouldn’t be happening!”

“Date?” Adrien voiced. “I... err… sorry but I didn’t really see it as a date.” He said sheepishly. Volpina gaped in shock as Ladybug grinned smugly. However, she screeched and pulled her arm, yanking Ladybug towards her. Ladybug hissed as both her hands tugged back on the yoyo, but the pain from her shoulder caused her to not have a strong enough grip, and she was yanked forward towards Volpina. Volpina punched her square in the jar violently. Ladybug cried as Volpina smirked. She readied her flute and played a few notes before the instrument was knocked from her hands by a baton.

“What a catastrophic it is that you seem to hate ladybugs, Volpina.” Chat grinned. “I hear they’re quite lucky.”

“Chat!” Ladybug exclaimed. Chat hurried to his partner and helped her off the floor. She surprised him, however, when she embraced him tightly. “Thank god you’re real this time!”

“Uhhh now isn’t the time, LB.” Chat told her as she sprung apart, dodging Volpina’s attacks. They readied themselves to fight her when the door to Adrien’s room burst open to reveal Gabriel, Natalie, Marinette, and Chloe. Chat’s eyes bugged open. “What the..?”

“Too late, Ladybug and Chat Noir!” Volpina sneered, having retrieved her flute and Chat’s eyes widened when he saw a doppelganger of himself holding her hand. “I have my handsome boy right here! Come and chase us if you want him back!” with that, her and the fake Adrien jumped out the window.

‘How did she…?’ Gabriel and Chat’s eyes narrowed at the implications of Volpina’s abilities. Both knew Volpina didn’t have the real Adrien, for he was right there as Chat. Nevertheless, Gabriel knew that he had to keep up a front for his son’s sake.

“What are you just standing there for?!” he barked. “My son has been captured! Go get him!” Chat Noir and Ladybug snapped their heads towards him.

“Right…” Chat whispered to himself. Ladybug beckoned him towards the window and both were off. Natalie, Marinette, and Chloe watched the whole scene in horror.

“I’ll go call the police!” Natalie yelled, disappearing from sight. This left Chloe, Marinette, and Gabriel in Adrien’s empty room.

“Adrien… “ Marinette whispered, eyes wide with panic. Chloe was frantically pacing.

“Adrien! No! We have to save him!” Chloe cried. Gabriel wisely kept the information that Adrien was in fact safe and sound to himself. It was not the time or place to reveal his son. He didn’t trust the Bourgeois girl to keep a cool head if he spilled the beans. The blonde haired girl rounded on the other two people in the room immediately as they were not speaking at all. “What are you doing just standing there?! Do something about this!”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.” Gabriel replied. Chloe was about to yell some more when a noise caught both their attention. They turned their gazes to the third occupant of the room, who was clearly in shock.

“Adrien… she took Adrien…” Marinette whispered. It seemed the severity of the situation was hitting her hard to the point where she was not comprehending it. Gabriel watched her in curiosity. “Adrien’s never been a target before… he’s never been taken before…” she bit her lip to the point of drawing blood. Drips of red ran down her chin. Duusu flew out from Marinette’s scarf and was comforting her. Chloe zeroed her eyes on the peacock.

“You! You can save Adrien!” Chloe declared. Duusu shook her head.

“Not alone. I need my Master to use me.”

“Grr! Then tell me how to use you so I can go save Adrien!” Chloe demanded. Duusu again shook her head.

“You are not my chosen. Marinette is my Master. Only she can use me.” She patted the pale girl’s cheek as Marinette was still silent. Chloe growled and swiftly grabbed her scarf, pulling her to her face.

“Yes, Adrien was taken, Marinette! So what are you going to do about it?!” Chloe yelled, shaking her. “Adrien is gone! My best friend is gone! And if you sit here and don’t do anything about it, I’ll never forgive you, you hear me?!” tears were streaming down Chloe’s face, the reality that her friend was in danger and she couldn’t do a thing about it, paining her.

Marinette’s thoughts were running like a marathon. Flashes of Adrien smiling appeared in her mind. Of him laughing. Of him being shy. She remembered his touches and encouraging words. She remembered the kindness he showed her from the very beginning. She remembered his face when he was holding his umbrella out to her—of his confession.

“I never had any friends.”

A hand reached up and grasped the hand that Chloe was using to grip Marinette’s scarf. Chloe stopped crying, looking up to see Marinette staring back at her, her eyes piercing her with the intensity of a blue inferno. She gasped at how they seemed to stare right into her soul. With Marinette’s guidance, she numbly let go of her. Chloe continued to gaze at her in a stupor while Marinette grasped both of her hands, pressing them against her heart. Gabriel and Duusu watched the midnight-haired girl in interest.

“Adrien will be all right.” Marinette said strongly. “Because I will save him.”

Chloe sniffled, her eyes flooding with tears, and she nodded. Marinette let go of her hands and turned towards Duusu and Gabriel.

“Master… are you sure?” Duusu asked, cautious, not believing what she was hearing. The kwami could feel herself buzzing with anticipation at being used once again. Marinette smiled, and Duusu was caught off guard at how warm it was. When Marinette nodded, Duusu could feel tears of happiness filling her eyes. She shook her head to rid of the tears and thoughts that accompanied them, but she found she couldn’t even begin to quell the happiness inside of her. Chloe, Marinette, and Gabriel watched in awe as Duusu glowed a bright blue in her joy, chirping a beautiful song. “It would be an honor to serve you, Master.” Duusu smiled as tears slid down her face. Marinette had a soft smile as she lifted her hands to catch Duusu in the air.

“Marinette.” Marinette corrected, still smiling, and Duusu felt herself grin.

“Marinette… I feel the cosmos singing in happiness. Its song is so beautiful.” Duusu sniffled.

“Yeah yeah! Hurry it up!” Chloe pressed them, coming out of her daze. Marinette nodded and turned to Gabriel who was holding out the peacock pin.

“Are you sure about this, Marinette?” Gabriel asked. Blue eyes shining in determination gazed into his. He was caught off guard at the conviction in them.

“Adrien has always given me kindness, even when I didn’t deserve it.” Marinette replied. She took the pin and clipped to her sweater. “It’s my turn to give something back.”

“Very well.” Gabriel nodded. “The words to activate the Peacock are ��Feathers Fly’.”

Marinette took a deep breath, clutching the pin against her chest, and with a clear voice shouted.

“Feathers Fly!”

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