#shirt ghost AU comic

[anonymoosen]

Shirt Ghost AU chapter 1!

EDIT: I DON’T THINK IM CONTINUING IT AS A COMIC SERIES BUT I MADE IT INTO A FANFICTION 😭😭

Concept of the shirt ghost AU: here

Recap: Basically Dib farted so hard his shirt ghost evaporated and became sentient! Craaazyyy-

(He wanted a happier life so he got some spell book thingy to make it happen but this happens instead)

So the ghost turns out to be something that represents Dib’s inner emotions, causing Dib to be confused and irritated by the little ghost since he always pushed aside his emotions for some reason!

[eriscary]

Reference sheet of Tear who finally made their appearance in Passing Ghost. I have been waiting to post them, wanting to have that sweet reveal in the comic before it. I am withholding some info due to spoilers or because I want it to be known after the comic is done, which shouldn't take long prolly. Here we go… __________________

Biography: Tear!Sans is a puppet body possessed by a Napstablook whose greatest wish was to become Sans and see the multiverse. He created his body from mix and matching puppets made by Error!Sans. This [REDACTED]

Appearance: Because Tear’s body is a puppet, his bones are plush and have visible stitches. He wears white gloves to hide stitches, but his forehead has the most obvious line of them. He also wears Napstablook shaped headphones and a white coat with a purple hood. Its backside has a pattern of two tear drops forming an upside-down heart. Underneath it is a beige scarf, white shirt and black shorts.

Personality: Tear used to naively believe that everyone is good hearted and tried to be polite even in situations he shouldn’t. His AU got a lot of Sans variant visitors that he observed curiously from afar. Through observation he learns of the multiverse and wishes to experience it. Even wishing to become Sans himself, so he would feel important, loved and blend in more with the multiverse travelers. Finally achieving a feat of possessing a puppet body with a resemblance to Sans, gave him some momentary confidence. [REDACTED] finally understood not everyone is sunshine and rainbows. This made him more nervous of new people than he already is. He spends much of his time training to behave like Sans, failing at making good puns and stressing over not being lazy enough for Sans standards. He works too hard to be one, believing it would give him everything he wanted and [REDACTED]. After all, Sans surely blends into crowds with ease. They saw it with their own eyes. Tear also goes as far as using a great deal of effort into shaping his tears to be gaster blasters and bones. It hinders his speed, although even with this he is as fast as an original Sans, but fails at matching him in damage. Most of the time he feels like he isn’t good enough, both as his old self and Sans. The new life makes him believe it’s his responsibility to do everything Sans took care of too. He blames himself for everything. [REDACTED][ACCESS DENIED]. As a ghost, he felt very touch starved.

Abilities: - Tears: When Tear!Sans cries, his tears hurt anyone on contact. He can manipulate his tears and cry on command. They also leak out naturally. - Shaping tears: Tear!Sans often controls his tears to take a certain shape like his top hat, but usually gaster blasters and bones in hopes of mimicking Sans. Such objects cannot be held by anyone else, as they would take damage. Tear!Sans cannot replicate blue attacks. - Phasing: Tear!Sans can will his body to phase through things, just like when he was a ghost. His body gets more transparent or straight up invisible. Unlike his ghost self, this time it requires magic. When too emotionally overwhelmed, he will unintentionally phase. It will stress him more if it's a comforting touch he was about to receive but couldn't. - [REDACTED]

In battle: Tear's strength is on par with Classic Sans. He doesn't hit as hard, yet keeps up by attacking faster. But because he loses speed by shaping his attacks, he is overall weaker. His boss fight is also shorter because of him spending a lot of magic uncontrollably, before and during the fight. Unlike a Classic Sans or [REDACTED], Tear doesn’t remember SAVEs and RESETs. - [REDACTED] - [REDACTED]

Relationships: - [REDACTED]

Trivia: -Tear’s name has a double meaning. ‘To shed a tear’ and ‘tear something apart’. Different characters will say their name differently, depending on the personal opinion of them. - He is very soft to hug. - He is very light and his steps leave no sound. - His favorite food are Blueberries, or as he calls them, Boo Berries. - He occasionally calls the Player by a pet name “treasure”. - [REDACTED] - He gets excited at seeing any Sans or Papyrus, no matter how they look. - Used pronouns are He/They. - When terrified, Tear can unintentionally water blast the person through his eye sockets. - [REDACTED] __________________ Considering most AU sanses are stronger than Classic, Tear is prolly one of the weakest out there lol. He tries

[teddybeartoji]

彡 GUARDIANS OF THE TINY SEA URCHIN BOY

☆. contains: satoru gojo x gn!reader; fluff!!!, non-curse au, idk what this timeline is but both reader and satoru are adults and gumi is tiny + reader is his kindergarten teacher wc: 3k

you love you job.

you love taking care of the kids, teaching them, caring for them. and that of course applies for megumi, too. he's a pretty quiet kid, very straightforward and doesn't seem too affected by his guardian being away on a work trip when you ask him about it. you've never met the guy but it always makes you snicker whenever megumi's nose scrunches when he's brought up. or the little pout that tugs on his lips – the grumpiest and the fakest one to ever be conjured in the history of the world. you know it's fake; you've seen the care and devotion the little boy puts into the cards and the art he makes, always promising to show them to his keeper in a hushed voice.

but then one day... he's a quieter than usual, stares at you a little more than usual (he's so sure you don't see him)(or the way he's fiddling with the hem of his shirt). it's playtime and you're comfortably sitting in a bean bag, laughing with some other kids, eyeing the little sea urchin from the corner of your eye. after giving the other kids an impossible mission to complete outside, you usher the boy closer.

"gumi, come here."

and he does the cutest little eye roll known to mankind but nevertheless makes his way over to you. not pressuring him, you let him stand while you ask about the new comic book that came out (you heard him mention it once or twice) and oh, how his eyes widen. you surpress a giggle at the boy, and when you see his eyes flick between you and the bean bag you're sitting on, you finally motion for him to take a seat next to you. and he does.

he still feels a little unsure; like he wants to keep the information threathing to spill inside, despite the want to tell you all about it. seeing this, you decide to start talking about your own little hobby, doing big gestures as to try and crack a smile (it works)(he tries to hide it but you know better). and in the end he does relax and subconciously leans toward you when he starts introducing the comic.

digging out your phone, you let him show you the characters, the powers they have and how cool they all are. the smile on your face is making your cheeks hurt; glad that the boy feels secure and safe around you to tell you all this. some other kids bump in a few times, showing you the worms they dug up or beg for a napkin to wipe their face after they sneezed so hard that snot flew out. megumi's little scrunched up face only made you laugh more.

after a while you can feel him melt into you, his talk almost slurring, his eyes growing heavy. deciding to put away the phone, you move in your spot but a pair of hands clutch onto your arm. "'m not going anywhere." you assure him with a gentle smile as your hand finds its way into his hair, pushing through the unruly strands. he doesn't look at you, hiding his face into your shoulder.

"if i tell you something, do you promise you won't tell anyone?"

it's a ghost of a whisper, buried into the sleeve of your shirt. vulnerable.

"never. i would never."

it takes him another second to gather up the last pieces of confidence. the last pieces of strenght to open up his little tiny heart.

"i-i miss him." his little hands stay clutching onto your sleeve, not enough to stretch the material but just enough to let you know how hard this is for him. how he's taking the big step, how he's inviting you in with a shaky voice.

the hand in his dark hair never stops its movements, staying combing through it, feeling him nuzzle deeper into you. "oh, sweetheart. i'm sure you do." you hum quietly. "he's gonna be back really soon though. i promise."

you feel him nod against you. when another kid emerges from the outside, you quietly ask for her to whisper and swallow another giggle when she starts dramatically tiptoeing closer to you, ready to tie a newly made bracelet over your wrist. it's beautiful.

you stay like that for almost two hours – sitting in the bean bag with your arm locked securely in megumi's hold as he's letting out small little snores. you don't mind. you don't mind at all.

most of the kids have already left, their parents having come after them. they always greet you with a smile and thank you for keeping their kids happy and safe and it always warms your heart. there's nothing else you'd love more than this. and how the kids say bye... some of them hug you, some of them land a fat smooch on your cheek, one of them always shakes your hand (very firmly)(a lot of people could learn a thing from him). and all of them always wave with the brightest smiles on their faces.

you're eyeing the warm late afternoon sun from your spot on the bean bag when you hear the door open and close, a pair of loud footsteps approaching. megumi's guardian, surely.

tearing your eyes from the sun, you turn to meet the man and oh... his mouth is ajar as if he was about to yell out for megumi in the most dramatic way possible (he was). his crystal blue eyes shine in the very same light you were just basking in, taking in the sight before him. his lips close and reform into the warmest smile before he's whispers a small hi.

"hi." you answer with a smile of your own. nobody told you that he was gonna like that. sure, you've seen megumi's drawings but no offense to the boy – they do not do him justice. this has to be to most handsome guy you've ever seen. and he's your age, too. "you're here for megumi, right?"

he nods, leaning on the doorframe. "satoru."

after you introduce yourself, he repeats your name, tasting it on his tongue - and you're now stuck with the memory of one of the older faculty members saying something about how it's always very unprofessional to have crushes on the parents and whatnot. and whatnot.

he makes his way over – keeping his eyes on his beloved boy, sleeping oh, so comfortably in your arms. the way his chest is rising and falling steadyly, his fingers digging into your shirt. his heart swells.

kneeling in front of you, he smiles at the boy before turning his focus to his keeper. the golden sunlight is making your eyes shine and when you give him a shy little smile, he knows megumi is in safe hands.

"you're new?" he whispers.

"mhmm. and you don't actually have to whisper." satoru's eyes flick to megumi and you understand his question without him asking it. "oh, he's out. like a light. we've been sitting here for what?" you look at the clock before continuing. "two hours?"

satoru's smile widens at that. "he's kept you locked up for two hours?"

raising your hand from megumi's hair, you cover your mouth, hiding a grin. "he's cute, no harm done."

satoru hums. "he is. pretty sure you're the first teacher to see him like this."

"yeah." lowering your hand back down, you brush a few strands from his eyes, making his nose scrunch up and making the two of you swoon over the pouty kid. "i'm very honored."

satoru's eyes flick back to you. there's a certain softness in them, despite the deep dark purple peeking out from underneath the skin under them. you don't know what kind of a job he has but you know it sometimes requires him to be away for a while. it must be hard for him too; hard to leave his boy in some stranger's hands. but satoru is already convinced that you're no stranger.

"i'm glad he has you."

you feel a tint of blush making its way over your cheeks because of the sincerity in his tone. he really means it.

"but seriously, though? you've been sitting in the same spot for two hours? you're telling me your feet aren't dead?" he deadpans with a smirk.

lowering your head, you confess: "i have to go to the bathroom so badly."

he almost doubles over, holding a palm over his mouth, hiding the laughter ready to burst out. you try to glare at him but it's useless – you're holding your laughter with him a second after.

your body shakes with the giddyness, making megumi stir and you still. caressing his cheek, you try to make sure he ignores the two giggling adults next to him and stays asleep.

"and yes, my arm is dead but c'mon, how was i supposed to say no to this?" as if on cue, megumi lets out a content breath, his lips molding into his usual little pout, which in return makes the two of you look at him fondly. again.

"no, don't worry. i understand – he's a real charmer." he whispered. "what got him in this mood, anyway? nothing happened, right?" his eyes widen as the words leave his mouth, concern painting his face in a second.

trying to soothe his worry, you immediately shake your head. "no, no. he's okay. nothing happened." satoru exhales deeply, hand covering his heart. you don't think he even knows how worried he looked just now.

"but?" his voice breaks the small silence. "i feel like there's a 'but' here."

giving him a smile, you look the sleeping boy locked onto your arm. "i promised i wouldn't tell, though..."

"wha-?" the grown man's lip pull into a pout and you realize that the boy really does take after him. "but i need to know..."

deciding to make sure that megumi is still in fact, sleeping, you check his breathing – steady as ever, so you beckon the man a little closer.

"he missed you that's all."

it's so quiet. not even a whisper but satoru hears the words loud and clear. his eyes fall to his boy once more, something so tender in them – making your own heart beat a little louder. "but don't tell him i told you. i promised i wouldn't."

"never. i'd never take this from you." he rests his one hand beside your thigh on the bean bag, while the other goes to smooth over his cheek. the poor boy would die of embarrassment if he were to witness all this affection bestowed upon him. "thank you for telling me."

your gazes meet again, the love in them mixing together into a warm goo, filling the room and connecting the three of you forever.

"of course."

there's a comfortable silence between you and the man. a man you met mere minutes ago but when he bends over to pick up the bracelet made out of red string and continues to tie it back on your wrist without a word, you're certain you know him. or maybe knew him in another life; whatever the case, you were meant to meet again.

you thank him but he casually brushes it off as if it wasn't a big deal, as if he did it on instict, his fingers already itching to do things for you.

"is your bladder about to explode, by the way?" teasing. his tone is teasing and you can't help but reward him with another smile. his favourite pay.

"yes– yes, it fucking is." it takes you a second to realize what just slipped from between your lips. eyes growing twice their size as you stare back at satoru, who's, of course, already silently laughing, the corners of his lips reaching his ears. "you heard nothing."

"this is who's been taking care of the kids? wow, does the faculty know of the foul mouth you're sporting?"

"hey!" you whisper shout at him and before you can even register your own movements, your free hand lands a soft punch against his strong chest. it's always very unprofessional to have crushes on the parents. this time real heat paints your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

"sorry– i'm sorry." the only thing you can do is to mutter a quick apology - you're embarrassing yourself and you can't even run from it, the sleeping boy keeping you in your place and you're honestly ready to spiral because you just kind of hit (punched, even) him - this is definitely you crossing a line. and what if he really gets mad now and actually tells the faculty—

another wave of laughter breaks you from your thoughts. and then his own hand makes contact – landing firmly on your thigh; not to far up to make it like that but it's there to reassure that he's not a snitch of any kind and that's he's truly happy to have you as megumi's teacher. nothing better than having a real person looking after your boy.

but it is satoru gojo – it wouldn't be him if he didn't tease you properly at least once. "you're so cute like this. curses and hits being thrown here and there, whew! a great rolemodel for the kids, for sure."

you're burning up, almost afraid that you'll wake gumi with the heat emitting from your body. satisfied with the result, satoru gives your thigh a squeeze. "i'm kidding, i'm kidding. no harm done, right?"

he's gazing at you, borderline burning his eyes into yours with a sly smirk and now you also understand why megumi keeps calling his guardian very annoying every chance he gets.

"yeah." you quirp. "anyway, my ass is getting really sore now, so i think it's best to-" in attempt to escape the stealth attack on your heart, you try to change the topic, even when the weight of satoru's eyes stays on you for a second longer.

you shift your gaze to megumi, raising your hand to his face, gently tracing down his nose and booping it. you brush more of his hair from his face, trying to pull him from his dreamland as softly as you can. "megumi, look, who's here...."

his lips press into another pout as you land a second boop on his nose, finally making him stir. his eyes open ever so slowly, gazing up at you as he raises his fist to rub out the sleep.

"hey, gumi."

satoru's voice stills the boy. his body doesn't move, his eyes alone turning from you to the source of the voice. and the second his green eyes meet the blue ones – he's burying his face into the crook of satoru's neck. you observe their little reunion; megumi's hands are so tight around his neck, most certainly choking the man but he doesn't mind. he doesn't mind at all. satoru's arms wrap around the boy, holding him safe and sound right to his chest, to his heartbeat.

"missed me?"

megumi grumbles something into him, something unintelligible but most definitely something that resembles a kid's insult. satoru's mischievous eyes meet yours and you bite your lip, trying to look as stern as possible when the both of you know that you're just holding back another beautiful smile.

"let's go home, yeah?"

megumi nods as satoru stands with the boy in his arms. when you start pushing yourself up, he lends you a hand - his warm fingers easily engulfing yours in a quick motion. the touch lingers, skin on skin longer than needed. neither of you say comment on it – the butterflies in your stomach would gladly do all of the talking for you. you walk them to the door, staring at the sleepy little megumi, who's glancing at you over satoru's shoulder every two seconds.

you hand satoru megumi's pack and then gently place his jacket over his shoulders before giving one final rub on his back. "be good, yeah?"

he hums back, green eyes finding safe haven in yours. another smile is threathing to show when you wink at him, so he buries himself back into satoru's neck, making the man laugh loudly. this is the first time you hear it for real. it ripples through his whole body, his chest –shaking megumi as it does, it bounces off the walls of the room and finds its way to you and your ears. it's irresistible – you can't not respond with the same when he does it, the current just pulling you along. and it'll keep you for a long time.

"it was nice to meet you. finally."

"oh, you've been waiting for this?"

...

yeah, you walked right into that one, you admit your unfortune, but luckily megumi is there to save you by giving him a hard nudge on the back.

"okay, okay, little guy.... can't even hit on his teachers in peace..." he sighs, earning a way stronger hit and a way darker blush on your cheeks. "it was really nice meeting you too. finally."

you give him a small nod, fingers playing with the bracelet. you watch him carry the boy toward the door, ready to go home and calm your heart.

"wait-" satoru turns just as he steps outside into the sunlight. his eyes shine now even more than they did inside, almost blinding you. "how come you're not running to the bathroom? i thought you were dying."

"well, i was trying to be polite and wait until you leave, so you know..." lowering your voice, you tell him: "fuck off already." flashing him one final smile, the one he's gonna think about for the rest of the night (for the rest of many many nights), you motion for him to move along.

a quick little bye is all he gets before you close the door after him, leaving him standing in from of the house with a stupid smitten grin on his face. if it weren't for megumi, he'd probably stay standing there. "they said fuck." the boy whispers.

"fuck yeah." he laughs before he ruffles megumi's hair, finally making their way over to his car. "by the way, you're an awful wingman, buddy..."

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP x DC AU

Danny's gonna adopt all the Halfas in Gotham whether he wants to or not, and it's gonna start with the little dead girl he found after crawling out of that portal in the league base.

Pt 2 here. My Au Art

...........................

There's a dead little girl sitting on the rug in front of Danny's coffee table curiously eating Cheetos.

Well, she's not all the way dead, only half, could even be a little less then that, Danny would know he's sort of the leading expert on being half dead.

Her skins blue, like comic book mystique blue, vibrant and impossible to miss. Shes got these big black eyes and a nasty split going straight through her upper lip to just under her right eye.

She's also missing her nose, it's just gone, no cartilage left over just the gaping nasal cavity like skulls have.

The little girl looks dead, she is dead, or she's at least as dead as Danny is which is almost exclusively in name only.

Her name is Curaré, Danny only knows it because it's been branded into the skin of the little girls neck, just under the curve of her bald skull.

Curaré is terribly thin, the little toddler sized T-shirt she has on hangs loose around her torso where baby fat should fill it out.

She's horrible to look at, a tiny nightmare, her corpse like coloring doing nothing to mitigate the appearance.

Curaré was neither a healthy nor normal little girl, there was no way Danny could have left that league facility without her.

Oh and she almost exclusively spoke in Spanish which made finding her dinner hard.

Not that Cheetos are really dinner, little kids need to eat more then that Danny was pretty sure, like 89% sure. Although they did have a lot of calories...

Danny tilts his head absently as he looks at her, the little demon being illuminated red and green by the glow of the TV. She's enraptured by the Scooby doo rerun Gotham's only spanish language channel is playing tonight.

As if she can feel his eyes she turns to him and tilts her head the same way.

Danny blinks at her, Curaré blinks back.

" Uh- " Danny starts, trying to remember anything from his Spanish elective from sophomore year. God, his teacher had been right he had needed to study more. " The Cheetos, you like them? They're uh...bueno? Oh! Son Buenos?"

He points his finger down at the snack sized bag in her grasp, her fingers are tiny , they must be so fragile, looking at the desperate grasp they have on the bag makes Danny's chest hurt. How could anyone be so small? Had Danny ever been that small?

Curaré blinks again, long and slow, processing Danny's words. She looks down at her Cheetos and back up at Danny then she carefully holds the bag out to him.

" Oh no that's ok they're for you kiddo" Danny insists.

Curaré shakes the bag at him, like enticing a stray cat with treats but he only shakes his head again.

She gives up after that, shrugging and turning back to her cartoons.

Inside her chest Danny can feel her ghost core vibrate placidly as Scooby and Shaggy run across the TV in a panic.

Danny's own core can't help but try to match it's frequency, a low contented humming echoes between them, safe it seems to say.

Curaré can't be older then 4, which means she was resurrected young and that she died even younger. Danny doesn't know how any of it happened, halfas aren't created easily, the amount of energy needed...

She's so small.

He hopes it was fast, whatever it was that did this to her, made her like him.

Danny also hopes that her injuries aren't permanent. Some ghosts keep the carnage of their corpses well into the after life but as a Halfa Curaré should heal, even if she got those injuries during her ressurction. For her sake it'll be much easier to find some sense of normalcy if she isn't always actively bleeding, even if the blood itself is just an ecto-echo of real blood.

Danny curls his knees up to his chest and hides his face for a moment just trying to breathe. He's too young to be taking care of a toddler, he's still six months away from turning 18 and hes got school on Monday. His eyes burn and his throat constricts as he tries to swallow.

No one else but Danny would know how to take care of Curaré, and she's got no family to try and stumble their way through it. Danny can't take her back to the league and he sure as hell isn't going to search for whoever put that brand on her neck.

Even if he dropped her off at the fire station Gotham only has one Meta focused orphanage, it's state run and all the kids in it have to wear little prison style jump suits. And the food sucks, Danny can personally vouch for that.

She doesn't have a home, she's just as out of place here in Gotham as Danny is. Danny really wishes, not for the first time, that he had an adult here. Like Jazz or hell even Mr. Fuckin Lancer.

Just anyone. Anyone who could tell Danny what to do about this. Who could help him out with the child he's suddenly acquired.

He wishes anyone else was here so it wouldn't just be him and Curaré. Two dead kids sitting on the floor of a studio apartment in the Bowery watching cartoons.

What a pair the two of them will make, oh God. Danny laughs as a few tears stain his jeans.

Curaré makes a curious little noise that has Danny forcing his head up. She's reached the inevitable end of her snack sized bag and she looks absolutely devastated. She turns to look at him, tilting the empty bag towards him as if to say ' can you believe this shit!'

Danny can't help but give her a watery smile, no more crying Fenton, and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

" Okay, one thing at a time." Danny tells himself. " You finished your Cheetos and now it's time for dinner, right? Stop me if I'm wrong."

Curaré just looks at him.

Danny's not worried, they're gonna have all the time in the world to teach her to appreciate humour and also English.

" I'm going to take that as a yes. " Danny hops up off the floor and goes to find his phone, nobody does dinner like the local Batburger.

Little foot steps follow him into the hallway, he'll have to get used to that sound he's going to be hearing it a lot.

Food first, everything would be better after they ate.

...............

For BG I imagine he's been living in Gotham for a few months and found Curaré while popping in and out of different portals in Gotham. (Who woulda guessed that some portal in Gotham leads right to the lazarus pit)

Note: if u wanna see cool art for this AU it's all in the Danny and the little dead girl au tag on my pg!

[snekberry]

future!jon waiting for his martin to arrive

post MAG-200 tma time travel au series

[ID: A four panel comic about Jonathan Sims from the future interacting with Jon and Martin from season 1 of TMA. Future Jon is a thin, brown-skinned man with long, greying dark hair in a ponytail, and various scars. He wears a green “What the Ghost” hoodie. Jon from the past has short hair with less gray, and wears glasses, and a white button down shirt with a black tie. Martin is a large, pale man with red hair and glasses, and wears a blue sweater over a white collared shirt.

The first panel shows Future Jon lounging in a chair, while drinking from a mug. There is an arrow pointing to him that reads “borrowing past! Jon’s spare clothes”. He is grinning with his eyes closed and saying “I’m waiting for my boyfriend to arrive in this timeline.”

The next panel shows Jon and Martin from the past. Past Jon is sipping from his own mug, and looking at Future Jon with interest, as he thinks “I get a boyfriend in the future?” Martin is also holding a mug, and smiles pleasantly as he asks “Oh?”

The next panel shows them again, as Martin gets jealous, and tightens the grip on his mug until it begins to crack under his hands. His expression is still pleasant as he asks “Who’s your boyfriend?” Past Jon notices Martin’s mug and reacts with shock, saying “Good lord!”

The last panel shows Future Jon again, sitting forward a bit and grinning slyly at the pair of them, looking highly amused. He says “Oh, you’ll see.” End ID.]

Thank you @/coulson-is-an-avenger for the ID!!

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Eleven

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 20k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hi my dear friends! I hope you are all happy and healthy. Welcome to the newest chapter of Trouvaille! In this chapter, there's angst, fluff, and a return to a bit of spiciness (warning you now!) Things will be picking up after this update, and I'm super excited to explore more of this story with you all. As always, I love hearing all of your feedback, answering your questions, and in general screaming about the boys with you. Please enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“Oh, perfect,” Y/N sighed, feeling Yoongi cringe at the sound of the slider slamming shut, shaking the walls a bit. Poking her head back outside, she caught Seokjin’s attention as he was handing out Smarties to a gaggle of young boys in superhero costumes. “Honey, do you mind staying out here for a bit? I have a fight to de-escalate.”

The jaguar hybrid nodded solemnly, pity rounding out the corners of his sunset stare. Yoongi, adjusting the stiff collar of his dress shirt, made a move to follow Y/N to the parlor, but she stopped him with a light hand on his bicep. 

“Can you stay with Seokjin? Just in case he gets overwhelmed, and I think it’s best if I try to feel out the vibe myself, for now,” Y/N asked, Yoongi melting over her pleading tone. “Besides, you should show off your costume. Looks good on you.”

With that, Yoongi cocked a brow, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, slinking back to the open front door. 

“You say that about all of my outfits, sweetheart,” Yoongi called over his shoulder with a smirk, taking her former spot on the porch steps beside Seokjin. 

Comforted by the fact that Yoongi didn’t seem as distressed as she originally read on his expression, she placed the pointed witch hat she was wearing on the staircase before heading towards the parlor. She didn’t think the hat was appropriate considering the situation. 

The citrusy, pine scent of copal incense filled the house thickly, a stick of it burning in pretty much each room for Samhain, but at the moment it was turning her stomach rather than clearing her head. The shouting had stopped since Jeongguk had stormed out, and Y/N couldn’t even begin to fathom where he thought he was going. Further, as she hurried down the hall into the spookily decorated parlor, Y/N’s concern for Hoseok overwhelmed everything else. Between his uneasiness around Namjoon, and the fact that he was never one to let a snide remark or what have you provoke him into an actual fight, she was worried about him. 

As she entered the room, the first thing she noticed was Namjoon by one of the windows, his back to her and his forehead in his palm, ears turned backwards. Scanning the room, littered with candy wrappers and Halloween party favors, she located Hoseok, who was sitting in the leather recliner, quite pale and quite still, like he saw a ghost. 

“What’s the problem this time?” Y/N cut to the chase, sweeping up cellophane from salted caramels on the coffee table, surprisingly maintaining a calm demeanor. At least the fight didn’t escalate to physical violence. “Are you two alright?”

No one spoke, and the corny tune of “Monster Mash” from outside filled up the silence comically. Hoseok– still in his pirate costume– appeared like a fox hybrid statue on the recliner, and blinked at Y/N, the color slowly returning to his face as she approached him. Her hand outstretched, she reached to push some of his wavy mahogany hair out of his face, his forehead a tad clammy as her fingertips brushed it. 

“Joonie, what happened? Weren’t you guys just watching Scream? What’s with the yelling?” Y/N chose to question Namjoon, considering Hoseok was still locked in some kind of trance. Maybe he had too many caramels and was feeling sick. 

Namjoon turned, tail literally between his legs, and guilt all over his handsome face once he met Y/N’s eyes. Adjusting the neckline of his cable knit gray sweater, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. 

“Uh, truthfully… I don’t know what started it. Jeongguk took offense to something that was said, and things kind of spiraled out of control from there,” Namjoon offered up, his voice gritty and strained. 

She could only thank the sky that Taehyung was up in his room, editing photos on her laptop she had loaned him, and Jimin was out back with Vista. It was comforting that those two weren’t involved, considering Taehyung had just begun to come around to some of the other hybrids, and Jimin tended to hold grudges over even petty arguments for days. 

“Okay, well… I mean, Jeongguk makes rude remarks constantly. It must have been something personal to warrant him barrelling outside,” Y/N pressed, though immediately regretted it once the guilt on Namjoon’s face became even more cloaked in the shadow of it. 

“I–” Namjoon began, taking a step towards Y/N and Hoseok, warily gazing at the latter as he was abruptly cut off. 

“Namjoon wasn’t a part of it. He was trying to calm Jeongguk down and break it up,” Hoseok interrupted loudly, as if he just remembered he had a body his spirit was inhabiting, and a voice, too. 

Taken aback, both Y/N and Namjoon exchanged looks of bewilderment, the wolf hybrid’s shoulders relaxing downwards several inches when Hoseok cleared his name. It was shocking that Hoseok actually came to Namjoon’s defense, despite his issue with wolf hybrids and the fact that he implicated himself as the instigator. 

“Hoseok?” Y/N urged gently, watching him squirm in his seat as he finally made eye contact with her. “What happened?”

Hoseok coughed uncomfortably into his fist, his ears drooping to the sides, his free hand tugging at the red sash tied around his waist. He looked like he’d rather stand in front of a moving vehicle than fess up, but Y/N couldn’t go about repairing damage until she knew what had unfolded in her absence. 

“I really didn’t mean to set him off like that. Things were pretty normal, then he and Namjoon started talking about ghosts and shit. You know I don’t really believe in all that crap, so I was just joking around but I guess I hit a nerve,” Hoseok’s throat was sort of scratchy sounding, hauling himself off of the recliner and pushing a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I didn’t want to ruin Halloween for you…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Hoseok. It’s still early in the evening, and I think it’s salvageable,” Y/N shook her head, knowing that Hoseok certainly didn’t have malicious intentions, and he clearly felt badly about causing a ruckus. “I’ll go find him, try to get him back into the house. Why don’t you two go out front with Seokjin and Yoongi? I’m sure the kids will love your costume, Hoseok, and our house has been popular this year. Those two could probably use a couple of extra hands, anyways.”

“You’re not mad?” Hoseok ignored her suggestion, speaking incredulously, missing the look of dude just go with it Namjoon was sending him several feet away. 

Again, Y/N shook her head. Fights would happen from time to time, there was no way of getting around it, and considering there was no physical violence involved, there wasn’t a reason for her to be angry with Hoseok. 

“No, honey. I’m going to talk to him though, and hopefully you two can work things out once he cools down,” Y/N put a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder blade, urging him towards the hall to the foyer with Namjoon hot on their heels. The sooner she found Jeongguk, the better, and she hoped that he wasn’t taking his frustrations out on Jimin in the backyard. “It’s a beautiful night, it’ll be nice for you two to get some air. I’ll come find you after I check in on Jeongguk.”

“Be careful, Y/N. Don’t let him talk to you abrasively, even if he’s upset,” Namjoon stopped her by grabbing her shoulder firmly once Hoseok hurried outside to sit beside Seokjin, the wolf hybrid’s expression serious and concerned. 

“Don’t worry too much, Joonie. I’m sure everything will be okay,” Y/N soothed, Namjoon cocking an eyebrow as skepticism washed over him. It looked like he desperately wanted to follow her to the back yard, but he reluctantly went out on the porch to lean over the railing next to Yoongi, who was handing out lollipops to a set of twins. 

Before she traipsed back through the house to head into the backyard, Y/N snapped a picture of the four hybrids on the porch with her phone with a tiny smile, all of them blissfully unaware that she had a secret folder in her camera roll containing candids of each of them. As she made her way through the kitchen, she giggled at the picture of Yoongi she had taken while he was cursing at a sheet pan of burnt vegetables he had forgotten to pull out of the oven. 

With a sigh, she left her phone on the kitchen island and shrugged on her denim jacket hanging by the slider, pushing the cracked-open door and letting the chill autumn air shroud her. Recently, Jimin and Taehyung had helped her replace all of the outdoor lighting, so the backyard was illuminated and less haunted looking. In the distance, she could hear the thumping sound of Vista’s hoofs as Jimin took her around some of the lengthy trails around their property. 

It wasn’t very difficult to find Jeongguk. All she had to do was follow her nose, the slightly sweet scent of burning tobacco cutting through the crispness of the night time air. He was over on the covered wooden swing under one of the willow trees positioned outside of the large window in the parlor. His eyes were squeezed shut with a hand massaging his temples, the lit cherry bright orange and making his features glow as a cigarette hung out of his mouth. Y/N knew that he was aware of her approaching, but he made no movement to indicate so. 

Silently, she sat beside the elk hybrid, the swing swaying slightly with her weight, Jeongguk continuing not to acknowledge her presence even when she hummed as her spine hit the padded backrest. As she gazed up at the stars in the sky, she tried her best not to curl into Jeongguk’s warmth inches away. Minutes ticked away, and Jeongguk was still ignoring her, tattooed middle and forefinger prodding away at his right temple. 

“Can I have a drag?” Y/N broke the ice, palms settling over her bare thighs to warm them up. Perhaps the short, twilight colored dress she had worn for her witch costume wasn’t the most season-appropriate choice. 

Wordlessly, and to her great surprise considering she was prepared for him to tell her to piss off, Jeongguk passed the cigarette over, eyes snapping open and looking down through his eyelashes to study the side of her face. Gratefully, Y/N took the cigarette, fingertips lightly brushing his, carefully bringing it to her lips and taking an indulgent drag. The Marlboro reds Jeongguk smoked were harsh, the tobacco tasted strong and fiery hot, and it had her lightly coughing as the smoke burned her lungs. Immediately, Jeongguk snatched the burning cigarette away with a grunt.

“That was a bad idea. Seokjin is going to come out here and smack me around,” Jeongguk muttered, using his left hand to thump on Y/N’s back as she coughed into her fist. “Yoongi I can take. But the jaguar? Definitely stronger than he looks…”

“I’m f-fine, oof, Jeongguk, don’t hit so hard, you’re gon-na knock a rib out of place,” Y/N wheezed, leaning away from his harsh strikes. “You should try some of my m-menthols. Those reds are nasty.”

Jeongguk halted his pounding on her back, leaning his elbows forward on his knees and cradling his head in his hands, as if he had a blinding migraine. Concerned, Y/N mirrored his action, eyeing how his antlers had darkened over the past few weeks in the absence of his velvet. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Y/N murmured gently, wondering why he seemed to be in so much pain. Did he drink too much of the alcoholic Butterbeer she had made earlier that evening?

“Does it even matter to you?” Jeongguk shot back, a bit of bite to his smoky voice. His response made Y/N grit her teeth– she thought him and her were past this. 

“Of course it does. How could you think it doesn’t matter to me?” Y/N curled her hands into fists, staring daggers into the side of Jeongguk’s skull. 

“I don’t know. You and the fox are so close, I’m assuming you’ve taken his side and came out here to call me an asshole,” Jeongguk turned his head to meet Y/N’s eyes, the onyx shade of his pupils intimidating and darkened with contempt. “He can pretty much say whatever he wants, he’s your favorite.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about, Jeongguk? I care about all of you just the same. I don’t take sides, I don’t have favorites, and I want to fix whatever the problem is. You know, I’m finding it odd that I’m having to resolve conflict between two grown men,” Y/N ranted, feeling like she was just about fed up. Seriously, they were all older than her, shouldn’t they be able to hash out their own arguments?

There was a brief moment where they both stared at each other with intensity, anger written across both of their faces, and Y/N wasn’t sure who was going to break first. A muscle in Jeongguk’s jaw pulsed in agitation, momentarily breaking eye contact to stub out his cigarette on the bottom of his combat boots. 

“You don’t have favorites? Yeah, I’m sure,” Jeongguk muttered, mostly to himself. This, however, angered Y/N even more, but before she could open her mouth to deny the accusation once again, he continued. “You know what? I don’t even care. You didn’t even need to come out here, I wasn’t going to run away.”

“Where is this ‘favorites’ thing coming from? Is that what your argument with Hoseok was about? He claimed it was a fight over paranormal subject matter,” Y/N tried her best to compose herself, though she felt that she was seconds away from throttling the elk hybrid and Hoseok. 

“What do you think?” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, leaning back on the swing, his annoyance seeming to deflate second by second. He could probably smell how pissed Y/N was becoming. “Like I said, I don’t care. I just told him to shut the fuck up about… whatever, I told him to shut up, and he wouldn’t, so I came out here before my head could split.”

“Hoseok likes to make jokes, he probably didn’t mean anything by what he said, but I’ll still run it by him later that I’m not cool with him spreading around the idea that I favor one of you over another. Okay?” Y/N took a few seconds to collect her thoughts before responding to an increasingly uncomfortable looking Jeongguk. Clearly, she wasn’t ever going to know exactly what Hoseok had said, judging by both of them skirting around the issue.

Jeongguk went back to ignoring her, now massaging the area above his eyebrow piercing, his lips pursed and eyes fluttering shut once more. Shuddering with a sudden icy breeze that rolled by, Y/N wondered why she could still feel electricity in the air even though their heated exchange had ended. 

“You mentioned that you had a headache, want me to get you some Advil?” Y/N leaned closer to Jeongguk, close enough to smell the earthiness of his black leather jacket, the muskiness of his oaky body wash, and the smoke that constantly clung to him. The masculine scent was enough to have her head going a bit fuzzy, embarrassingly enough to admit. 

Jeongguk grunted, one of his ears flickering rapidly, his posture becoming stiffer as Y/N inched into his proximity closer than ever. 

“I’m fine, Y/N. Go back inside, it’s too cold out here for you to be wearing that little dress,” Jeongguk gave her a once-over as he spoke, his voice rough and scratchy.

“I’m not cold! Let me get you that Advil, you look like you’re really in pain, sweets,” Y/N attempted to cover up her blushing when he made the comment about her dress by making a move to get off of the swing, but a hand grasped her wrist before she could get too far. 

With the force of the hand tugging on her wrist, Y/N was forced backwards, ass landing back on the swing harshly and the wind knocked out of her lungs as she found herself nestled up to Jeongguk’s side– pretty much the closest she had ever been to him. Floored, she stared up at Jeongguk with owlishly wide eyes, her line of sight landing on the lip ring sucked into his mouth and his slightly crooked cupid’s bow. 

“What did you just call me? ‘Sweets’?” Jeongguk’s voice was abruptly saccharine, and Y/N was spellbound, finally letting herself curl into the warmth of his body and melt. “Have I ever been sweet to you?”

This question had her head spinning. The way he was speaking to her, in a lilting, almost cooing way, was entirely new to Y/N and out of character for Jeongguk. Truthfully, the term of endearment fell out of her mouth so naturally she didn’t even register she had done it in the first place, but Jeongguk certainly did. Still blinking at him like a three week old kitten, Jeongguk arched an eyebrow expectantly.

“Yes,” Y/N squeaked, honestly forgetting the question he had asked her mere seconds ago, too busy drowning in the darkness of his irises. 

“Yes, what?” Jeongguk prodded, cocking his head slightly as he lazily draped his arm across the swing’s backrest behind her. Stunned, Y/N used all of her might to will her mental facilities into functioning properly again. “Yes, you think I’m sweet?”

“Y-yes, I do. In your own way, you can be s-sweet,” Y/N stuttered, heart beginning to race in her chest. How did they get there? The push-and-pull between them was mind-bending, confusing, exhilarating. She had to look away from him in order to screw her head back on straight.

“Hmm? Like when?” With her heart in her throat, Y/N sat dumbstruck as she realized he still had her wrist in his grip, disinterestedly sweeping his eyes over her fingertips and knuckles. “Tell me.”

“Uh… when you helped with the cleansings and banishing. That night when I collapsed, and you took care of m-me. Telling me how to handle the situation between Joonie and Tae,” Y/N listed off the top of her head miraculously, though she had dozens of instances where Jeongguk had revealed his softer side to her. 

Jeongguk paused, finding her eyes again, like he was trying to identify the colors of her soul, slowly releasing the silver ring hugging his lower lip from his mouth. Y/N’s gaze was fixed on the action, and like a woman possessed, all she could think about was how the silver ring would feel against her own lips. 

The silence was absolutely maddening. Blood was rushing in her ears, and she had a sickly suspicion that he could read her mind about wanting to kiss him. Attempting to pull away a few centimeters in order to not act on her rampant fantasies, Y/N’s breath got stuck in her throat when Jeongguk’s grip on her wrist tightened bruisingly. Hissing, she arched into him, her free hand flailing out to grip the collar of his jacket. 

“Jeongguk, you’re hurting me,” Y/N whispered, watching with awe as his eyes rounded out in alarm and he loosened his hold immediately. “What’s going on with you tonight?”

“Stop worrying about me, please,” Jeongguk looked a bit pained as he vocalized his hoarse plea, the arm he had over the swing backrest landing heavily across her shoulders. “Need you to come here.”

For a heart-stopping moment, she really thought he was going to kiss her, using his arm wrapped around her to haul her into his chest, Y/N using the hand gripping his jacket to brace herself by pressing her palm over his heart. Taking her wrist, he hooked it around the nape of his neck, his other hand flat over her lower back, his head dropped as he buried his face into the base of her throat. The hasty, bold action had her gasping, her fingertips sliding through the longer silken hairs at the nape of his neck. It had been weeks since any of the hybrids scented her, Jimin being the last, and honestly it had slipped her mind that it was a ritual that had to be repeated periodically. The last of Jimin’s mark on her wrist had long since vanished, and the thought of having a fresh one from Jeongguk had her head swimming. 

“Mmm… you’re sweeter, I think,” the elk hybrid spoke over a breath, and Y/N was completely overwhelmed with all things Jeongguk. His scent, his voice and words, the way she felt protected encased in the solid muscles of his chest and arms. “Don’t you? Sweetness?”

Hardly able to formulate a coherent thought, she barely heard a word of what he was mouthing into her neck. No wonder he was so quick to become agitated with Hoseok’s joking around, he had a splitting headache, and was being so forward– he needed to scent her again. 

Taking the opportunity to be as close to him as possible due to the circumstance, Y/N all but crawled into Jeongguk’s lap, swinging a thigh over one of his to straddle it, the hand in his hair carding through the strands more boldly. Grunting gutturally with the press of her weight over him, Jeongguk’s hand moved dangerously low on her hip, making her skin flash with white-hot heat. 

“Fuck, what are you…” Jeongguk groaned, nudging her earlobe with the tip of his nose, his free hand reaching up to grip her chin tightly and move it to the side. With her neck craned, delicate skin of her throat exposed to his penetrating gaze and the brisk night air, a reedy sigh escaped from her parted lips. 

“Bite already,” Y/N egged him on, becoming impatient. She had missed this, the intimate closeness to her boys, and she needed his teeth in her neck more than she needed her next inhale. 

Jeongguk did not reply to her petition, though she swore she felt a slight puff of air against her sensitive skin as he snickered through his nose. Hold tightening on her, his lips descended, the chilly temperature of the silver ring through his lip making her shiver with delight. 

Quaking on top of him, her eyes slid closed as Jeongguk dragged his tongue up from her collarbone to just below her ear, the smooth, rounded sensation of the barbell threaded through his tongue distantly familiar to her. Y/N was able to hold back the whimper that was threatening to tear from the back of her throat, though she could not choke it back when he sunk his teeth into the paper-thin skin of her neck, just below her left ear. The pain of his blunt, though somehow still razor-sharp incisors wasn’t as intense as she remembered it to be the first time, and if anything, it had her collapsing more of her weight onto his sturdy chest. 

She was plunged into the hazy euphoria at light speed, and as soon as his teeth were cutting into her flesh, Y/N could only grip his hair in her fist like it was her only anchor to reality. Breathing heavily, she winced as he pulled his teeth from the puncture wounds, repeating what he had done the first time he scented her; with a lave of his tongue, he pursed his lips, sealing them over the mark and sucking. 

Boneless, Y/N’s chest was heaving into Jeongguk’s as he bruised the skin around the puncture wounds, the sting of his teeth piercing her flesh completely absent once the brush of his tongue cauterized the site. His frame sagged with relief as he cleaned up his mess, droplets of her blood sluggishly rolling down her neck and pooling in the dips of her collar bones. Delirious and wickedly full of a strange, intimate emotion, Y/N snaked her arms around Jeongguk’s neck, hugging him desperately for the very first time. 

As he came to, Y/N fully expected Jeongguk to pry her off of him, and she relished in the remaining seconds she had to hold him. However, to her immense surprise, Jeongguk clasped his forearms together behind her lower back, his nose still tucked into the crook of her neck as he embraced her back. She didn’t know if in her post-scenting foggy haze that she was hallucinating the way he actually held her, but she was too wired with emotion to unpack that thought at all. Slumped against the elk hybrid, she weakly continued to stroke his silky chestnut locks with her fingertips, nuzzling into his sharp collar bones indulgently. 

After a few minutes, her thoughts coming to her more fluidly as the high slipped away, Y/N was beginning to dread pulling away from Jeongguk’s warmth. He was the only thing blocking the teeth-chattering chill, and even then, she felt goosebumps blooming up the bare skin of her calves and thighs. As if sensing this, one of Jeongguk’s roughened palms trailed down to the skin of her outer thigh, covering the cool flesh with his wide hand, a grumble coming from the back of his throat. Once the heat of his palm nearly burned Y/N’s thigh, she stiffened immediately in his arms, pulling away a few breaths to get a look at his face. 

“Go inside, now. Put something warmer on before you hand out more candy,” Jeongguk finally used his grip around her hip to push her up and off of him, and astonishingly, she managed not to topple over and melt into the Earth’s core. 

“Come with me?” Y/N extended her hand out to Jeongguk, not willing to part with him just yet. 

With a soft chuckle, Jeongguk shifted his weight, standing on his own and paying no heed to her outstretched hand. Pouting, she followed his long strides across the backyard, still somewhat reeling from the interaction, the Halloween music from the front porch starting to ring in her ears as they got closer to the house. Studying the back of Jeongguk’s head as they walked towards the patio, she noticed him slow his pace so she could catch up, his chin tilting down as he looked at her. 

“Stop pouting,” Jeongguk smirked, making Y/N’s annoyance with him return. Scoffing at him, she turned her nose up into the air, ditching him and storming away petulantly. 

“Sheesh. You really don’t like not getting your own way, huh?” Jeongguk matched her pace with ease, taking her off guard for the umpteenth time that night by grasping her hand in his, thumb pinching all of her fingers together tightly as he continued on his way. “Bratty.”

“I’m the brat?” Y/N squawked, squeezing Jeongguk’s fingers as hard as she could, though secretly delighted he was actually holding her hand. A giant step forward, in her opinion. “That’s a crock. You’re one of the brattiest men I’ve ever met.”

Jeongguk barked out a wild laugh, throwing his head back with abandon, and Y/N had never seen him look so mirthful. Heart hammering around in her chest again, she composed her face into nonchalance, tugging the elk hybrid into the house.

“Yeah? I thought you said I was sweet? Did you lie to me?” Jeongguk teased, his expression becoming thoughtful as Y/N dropped his hand to shut the slider door, sighing in content as the heat in the house wrapped her up like a blanket.

Choosing to ignore him, Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to the island to pour herself a glass of red wine Yoongi had cracked open earlier in the night. Jeongguk was back to his normal, teasing self, and she had run out of wit to keep up with it for much longer that night. 

“Wouldn’t you be able to tell if I was lying to you?” Y/N countered after a long sip of Cabernet, narrowing her eyes at the elk hybrid hanging up his jacket on the hatstand by the door. He was wearing a black Deftones tee-shirt under the jacket, which had her making a noise in the back of her throat– she liked them, too. “Alright, I have to go rescue Seokjin. Hoseok is probably driving him up a tree.”

However, as she went to exit the kitchen, her path was blocked by his figure, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. What now?

“Go change first. If you wanna rescue Seokjin, put him out of his misery watching you shiver in a skimpy dress in fifty degree weather and throw some sweats on,” Jeongguk drawled, making heat crawl up her throat and bloom across her cheeks. 

“Okay,” replied obediently, with no room for questioning the tone of authority in his voice. Not to mention, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed Seokjin’s fretting over the course of the night– he did typically try and bundle her up even when the temperature was in the mid-sixties. 

Again, before she could get too far into the foyer, his raspy voice called out her name. Looking over her shoulder, she scowled, waiting for him to tell her to shingle the roof while she was at it. 

“Send the wolf in when you go back out. I want to finish Scream, and I don’t want another spat happening if I watch it without him,” Jeongguk sent a wink her way, slouching off towards the dimly lit parlor with a smug look on his face. Bastard. 

Muttering, Y/N woodenly found her way to her bedroom, rustling around in her drawers for a thick pair of leggings and her specific Halloween sweater with cute skeletons on it, she rid herself of the skimpy dress (sadly, it looked fantastic on her), and begrudgingly pulled on the warmer clothes, even going as far as tugging woolen socks up over her leggings to her knees. She looked a little ridiculous, but there was no way she was going out there and risking Jeongguk dragging her by her ear back inside, or making Seokjin worry about her. 

Ruffling her hair in the mirror, she heard the slider from the kitchen being firmly shut and locked up, the heavy sound of steel-toed boots clacking against the marble floors. Jimin had finally come in from his evening ride. 

Before she could scramble out to greet him, he had already whisked himself away into his bedroom, and then the sound of his shower tap noisily turned on. Old house, old rickety plumbing… even with the refurbished bathrooms, the pipes in the wall carried water everywhere with audible whooshing and clanking. Jimin typically took long showers after being out with Vista most days, he hated tracking dirt around the house, and his muddy boots were placed neatly on the giant shoe rack by the front door she had to order on Amazon recently. 

The front door was shut, but she could still hear Yoongi’s gruff voice through the thick wood, which made her smile. Reaching for the doorknob, she paused, her phone vibrating in her leggings pocket. 

Tae: Y/N, can I borrow your laptop until the morning ? I have a few more pictures to edit, I’m sorry

Y/N: Don’t be sorry!! Keep it as long as you need, Tae. As long as I can see the results!

Tae: Okay :) thx

She was definitely thinking of getting Taehyung a laptop for his birthday in December or perhaps for Christmas. It was that or getting some kind of desktop setup in the office next to Jimin’s bedroom, so anyone who needed to use a computer would have access to it. It all depended on whether or not she could rely on the money that would soon be coming in once they began boarding horses in the upcoming weeks. 

Much warmer now in her new outfit, Y/N re-joined Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon on the porch, and she resumed her seat on the top step beside the jaguar hybrid. Seokjin certainly seemed relieved by both her return, but also by the way his mouth curved upwards in satisfaction and his eyes roamed over her attire, pleased that she had changed into something toastier. She took the plastic cauldron that was recently refilled with Hershey bars off of his lap, adjusting his crooked devil horn headband again with a click of her tongue. 

“Joonie, Jeongguk wants to keep watching Scream with you, told me to send you back in,” Y/N tilted her head up to seek out the wolf hybrid’s eyes, finding him staring at her neck with slightly narrowed eyes. Whoops, maybe she should have worn a turtleneck. 

“Everythings…?” Hoseok appeared, guiltily, around Yoongi’s shoulder, a lollipop rounding out one of his cheeks. “Alright?”

“Mm-hmm. You and I have something to talk about later, though. Nothing bad, don’t worry,” Y/N assured with her hands up, as soon as Hoseok’s russet ears drooped in response. 

“I’ll go in, then,” Namjoon interrupted, not realizing that there was a young girl dressed as a little red riding hood gawking at him with cartoonishly large eyes. She pointed at him excitedly, tugging on her mother’s shirtsleeve to get her to notice Namjoon. 

Ears perking up, he tilted his head at the girl, his eyebrows raised as he figured out who she was dressed as. Namjoon gave her a sweet, albeit wolfish, smile complete with pointed incisors and waved slightly, the girl squealing in delight and waving back. With blush dusting his cheeks, Namjoon retreated back into the house. 

Shortly after Namjoon’s departure, Yoongi went inside, as well. He announced he was going to start on dinner; even though all he had to do was stick pizza from Sal’s into the oven on sheet pans and dress the salads, but Y/N knew he was probably itching to get some alone time. Hoseok, too, started lamenting about the biting wind, and after fifteen minutes of handing out candy with Y/N and Seokjin, he, too, went inside to see what Jimin was up to. 

“So everything was worked out with Jeongguk? What is it that you have to talk to Hoseok about, did he really say something horrible?” Seokjin asked curiously, when there was a short reprieve of little ones barreling up their front walkway. 

“Ah, nothing horrible. He was just making jokes about how I have ‘favorites’ amongst you all, which just isn’t true… I don’t want him to give anyone else the wrong idea. I imagine Tae wouldn’t have liked those jokes, either,” Y/N admitted, the sensation of Seokjin’s sleek tail periodically flicking her on the lower back familiar and endearing. 

“I wouldn’t have liked it, as well,” Seokjin grumbled, his thick lower lip jutting out into a pout. “Not all of his jokes always land, that’s something he needs to learn.”

“All in due time, Seokjin… there was no physical violence, and it was easily resolved, so that’s all I can hope for,” Y/N sighed, tiredly leaning her cheek on Seokjin’s shoulder. 

Purring, Seokjin hooked his arm through her’s, tucking his hand into his jacket pocket to secure their arms together. His bright eyes flashed, tiny giggles coming from the front of the property, indicating that they were about to get a few more visitors. 

A Frankenstein, Red Power Ranger, and a girl dressed as a witch came skipping up their walkway, with great baskets already stuffed with various candies. Of course, all eyes landed on Seokjin first, with his vibrant orange eyes that shone in the darkness, his elegant, rounded black ears, and the length of his tail that curled to and fro behind him. It was moot to mention how gorgeous Seokjin was, additionally– he had many bashful kids, mothers, and even fathers alike gawking at his beautiful face the entire night. 

Seokjin, however, was either used to people ogling at him, or perhaps he was painfully oblivious, so with a closed-lipped smile, he used his free hand to pass out chocolate bars once the kids chorused ‘trick or treat!’. Y/N found that not only were children enamored with Seokjin, but he seemed to adore them as well. He tossed the chocolate bars in the air, the kids having to catch them with delight. The witch, who’s attention was on Y/N clinging to Seokjin, seemed inquisitive, unlike her brothers who were happily catching candy in the air. 

“I like your costume! That’s an awesome hat,” Y/N spoke up, the girl looking from her to Seokjin as if they were mythical beings that appeared before her. 

“Are you married?” The girl ignored the compliments Y/N doled out, obviously referring to her and Seokjin, pressed up so close to each other it was like they were morphing into a singular body. 

Y/N was at a loss for words. She knew kids could be incredibly forward and bold, but this question had her mouth drying up. Did she look old enough to be married? Further, did it make sense for her to be with a man as heart-stoppingly beautiful and kind as Seokjin? The simple, innocent inquiry rocked her world. 

“Uh–”

“Yes, we are,” Seokjin grinned like the cat who ate the canary, his tail winding around Y/N’s waist as he snuggled into her. Blood draining from her face, she side-eyed Seokjin with utter shock, not even noticing that the young girl was giggling like mad. “For two months already!”

“I wanna marry a pretty hybrid like you, too!” The girl exclaimed, cupping her hands to make what Y/N assumed to be a mimic for hybrid ears on top of her head. 

Once recovering from the fact that Seokjin had told the girl that they were a married couple, it dawned on her that he had used his adoption date as the day they “tied the knot”. The sentiment was certainly not lost on her, stomach filling up with butterflies. 

“Like me? Really?” Seokjin put a finger to his lips, theatrically acting out deep contemplations, eyes cast up to the stars and all. “Don’t you think my wife is prettier?”

With that, Y/N coughed on a bit of spit that unfortunately found its way into her windpipe. While the girl was nodding in agreement, her mother was calling her name out on the street, and she went to follow her brothers up the walkway– but not before saying goodbye to her new friends. 

“Bye-bye!” She waved and grinned, and as Seokjin waved back, he pressed a loud, firm kiss to the apple of Y/N’s cheek, concluding his great act. 

Hand flying to the flaming flesh Seokjin’s lips pressed his stamp of affection over, she gaped at the jaguar hybrid as he waved at the children merrily, his eyes squeezed shut and offering up a toothy smile. Reeling, she waited until the voices of the children floated off down the street until she began breathing again, nudging Seokjin with her shoulder. 

“Huh? What, are we out of candy?” Seokjin asked innocently, though there was a hint of mischief in the quirked corners of his mouth. Melting instantly, Y/N nudged Seokjin again, now feeling quite shy. 

“No, we’re good with candy still, husband,” Y/N couldn’t help but poke fun back, since Seokjin was typically so easy to fluster. This time, he seemed somewhat unfazed, his squeaky laughter tickling her ears like she just told a hilarious joke. “You’ve been spending too much time with Hoseok. Teasing me like that.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. She was adorable, and you’re cute when you’re caught off guard,” Seokjin shrugged, his tail tightening around her waist securely. 

“Seokjinnie, stop embarrassing me! I feel like my blood is coming to a boil,” Y/N huffed, using a free hand to fan the heat across her cheeks. 

“I know, I can feel how flushed you are from where I’m sitting,” the jaguar hybrid used the back of his hand to gently check the temperature of her cheek, just over the spot he had kissed not five minutes prior. What in the world was coming over him? “So cute!”

“Wow. You’re turning out to be quite the charmer, aren’t you?” Y/N murmured, so discombobulated and dazzled that she forgot all about the task at hand– tending to the trick-or-treaters, six of which were shuffling up the walkway oohing and ahhing at the decor scattered about the front yard and decked about the porch. 

“I think the amount of kids will start to thin out soon, since it’s getting later in the night. Kids have bedtimes, especially on school nights, right?” Seokjin went back to normal conversation, as if he didn’t flirt with her like a seasoned Casanova. 

“Eh? Oh, yeah, it is… and it’s almost dinner time, too,” Y/N snapped back to reality, watching Seokjin do his little tossing game with the kids crowding around the porch. “You’re good with kids, Seokjin. They love you.”

At last, she managed to make Seokjin blush, his ears fluttering and pointed incisors biting down on his pillowy lower lip. For the following forty-five minutes, they passed out candy to some older children who had later bedtimes, until Yoongi poked his head outside to announce that the food was all heated up, her arm still linked with Seokjin the entire time. As they got up to go inside, finally separating, Y/N noticed that Seokjin had refilled the plastic cauldron with more candy and left it on the porch step for remaining visitors. 

October seemingly came and went, and frosty, gray November was settling over the city of Boston and the town her and her hybrids lived in. Leaves on the trees had almost completely fallen off every tree in the front and back yard, which Y/N had a blast (for once) raking up with the help of some of her housemates. After a little over two months of adopting all of her hybrids, everyone settled into a normal, functional routine. While it could certainly be hectic– between keeping track of basketball games, track meets, the odd photography expo, transporting everyone where they needed to be, and juggling her job, household duties, and renovations on top of all of that– it was lovely to have companionship and fulfilling purpose. 

Mid-November one morning, when Y/N woke up to the grass outside crystalized with sparkling frost and darkened skies; she dressed as warmly as she could, relishing in the day off from work. All she had on the agenda that day was baking and cooking with Yoongi, and in the afternoon, helping Jimin out with the arrivals of two horses that were ready to be boarded for the upcoming winter. 

The hallway into the foyer was noticeably brisk, and Y/N cursed as she turned up the thermostat by her bedroom door. Cringing, the loud hum of the heating system broke the quiet ambiance of the morning, and she resumed her shuffle down the hallway with her arms wrapped around her sweater-clad middle. 

Orange light spilled out into the hallway from Namjoon’s open door. He usually kept it open, Y/N wasn’t quite sure why, but it seemed he was up and about already. Y/N figured he would have moved into his trailer full time after his birthday, but her hypothesis was proven wrong, he hadn’t. In fact, the wolf hybrid hadn’t even taken it out of the driveway since September, and really only disappeared into the vehicle a few times a week to retrieve books and bring them back into the house. 

Peering into the room, she saw Namjoon sitting at his desk dressed in his rose colored thermal, taking notes from a tattered chess strategy book with the board her mother got him for his birthday neatly set up off to the side. He had yet to take her up on her offer to play with him, Y/N assuming he was trying to absorb every rule and trick he could beforehand. 

“Morning, Joon,” Y/N greeted softly, hesitant to break his concentration. Over the past couple of months, she had gathered that he wasn’t exactly receptive to conversation when he was focused on reading. She knew, though, that he was listening and aware that she was in his doorway; his silver ears twitching with every minute movement she made.

At once, he set his fountain pen down, lifting his head from the palm he was resting his forehead in, concentration clearing from his eyes. 

“Morning. You have the day off?” Namjoon cleared his throat, voice thick and gravelly as if it was the first time he had spoken that morning– and likely, it was. 

“Uh-huh. Tuesdays I have off, remember? What are you up to today? Want to play a match later tonight?” Y/N gestured towards his notes and the pristine board sitting beside him, leaning her hip against the threshold of his door. “We can bring the board out to the parlor, and put it on the table in front of the fireplace. That way we’ll have good lighting!”

“Alright, sure. That sounds nice,” Namjoon allowed himself to smile a little, the gesture indenting dimples into the apples of his cheeks. “I think breakfast is ready, and I heard Jimin asking for you in the kitchen not too long ago.”

That was Namjoon’s code for “get out, I want to keep reading”, though Y/N didn’t mind. The warm, enticing smell of sausage and hash browns had her stomach growling loudly, Namjoon staring pointedly at her stomach. With that, she smirked at the wolf hybrid, leaving him to his note taking and skipping to the parlor, despite the strong desire to bolt immediately into the kitchen. 

She stopped short, however, when she noticed the task she wanted to complete had already been taken care of– a tall, roaring fire crackling away in the fireplace. Stoking it with a fire poker was Taehyung, an emerald green flannel covering his back and a black beanie pulled over his wild curls. Taehyung wasn’t typically an early riser, so his presence made her giddy. 

“Oh, thanks, Tae! I was just going to do that,” Y/N approached him, using her arm to squeeze him into her side by his waist. Taehyung, like Seokjin and Yoongi, was quite affectionate, so she had grown used to giving out constant hugs and pats throughout the day. “I think it’s going to be a cold winter. I better stock up on firewood.”

“Why don’t you just let me chop it? That’s what I used to do all day, you know,” Taehyung replied with a slight groan, though lowering his head so he could bury his nose into the crown of her head. 

She thought it was a little strange, at first, how Taehyung often liked to smell her hair, but she had noticed that Jimin had also exhibited the same behavior, so she wrote it off as just an instinctual hybrid mannerism. In only two months, she had become extremely comfortable with her personal space being explored and invaded. 

“But there’s one of our neighbors who sells it by the bundle! That way you don’t have to be out in the cold,” Y/N countered. Truthfully, she felt way too bad to have Taehyung resume a type of labor he had been exploited for in the past, but she didn’t want to come out and exactly tell him that. 

“Y/N, you’re being stubborn. It gives me something to do, and you shouldn’t have to pay for wood that you can gather around the back yard for free. Just let me chop the wood,” Taehyung pushed her away by her shoulders, getting down low so he could make level eye contact with her. As always, it was an intense experience, and she quickly looked away before she could drown in the garnet depths of his gaze. 

“I know if I say no, you’re still going to do it anyways. As long as you dress warmly, okay?” Y/N relented, using the sleeve of his flannel to drag him to the kitchen for some breakfast. 

The kitchen was brightly lit, as always, and the lights starkly contrasted the dark morning, making Y/N’s eyes hurt. Jimin, with his mug of coffee– one with a moose on it, his favorite, Y/N presumed– was sitting at the breakfast nook with a newspaper like an old man. He looked incredibly ready to tackle his day; freshly showered, dressed in his blue jeans, a tee shirt, and his new heavy-duty leather jacket Y/N had ordered him for his long hours outside. 

Predictably, Yoongi was cooking, in his pajamas and cheeks still puffy from sleep. Y/N’s coffee was waiting for her on the island, always with the perfect ratio of cream to sugar. It appeared that Yoongi was making a giant vat of scrambled eggs– something that was on a heavy rotation for breakfast lately since Yoongi discovered Anthony Bourdain’s recipe for them.

His hair was getting even longer these days, falling forward into his face and feathering around his neck, and Y/N was harboring a secret desire to try different hairstyles on him, especially when they were watching movies together at night. Yoongi, more than the others, was a big fan of his hair being played with; and usually grabbed her hand to card through the silky locks, and she now had the duty of putting it up before his basketball games. 

“I’m starving,” Y/N sighed, now behind Yoongi at the stove, hooking her chin over his shoulder to watch him sprinkle chopped chives into the scrambled eggs. “Smells so good. We’re lucky to have you, Yoongi.”

“Don’t butter me up. You still need to study the circle of fifths later,” Yoongi glanced backwards at her, his “serious teacher” expression on his face. For the past few weeks, his piano lessons have involved a lot more music theory than anything else, and it nearly bored her to tears– no matter how important it was to becoming a better player. The latest lesson, tackling the circle of fifths, she swore was harder than veterinarian school. 

“You never let me off the hook, do you, sir?” Y/N saluted him like a soldier, watching his eyes roll back into his skull and his spotted tail whacking the side of her thigh. 

“Good morning Y/N!” Seokjin’s happy voice filled the kitchen– apparently, he had been in the pantry the whole time. “Guess what?”

Ditching Yoongi, she joined Seokjin, who was eagerly bouncing on the balls of his feet by the oven, two plaid oven mitts on his hands. He grinned from ear to ear, tail swishing back and forth with excitement. Lately, Seokjin had been doing a little more experimenting in the kitchen, following Youtube tutorials and starting off with simple recipes, mostly side dishes. 

“What’s that?” Y/N reached up to his broad chest, dusting off a sprinkle of flour across the black tee shirt he was wearing, curious as to what he had made this time. Whenever he’d make something new, she had to be the first to see and try it. “You know what? Maybe I should sign you and Yoongi up for Masterchef.”

“Don’t do that. We both suck under pressure,” Yoongi immediately responded from the stove, transferring the eggs into a large casserole dish. “They definitely don’t take hybrids as contestants, anyways.”

Seokjin made a feline noise of annoyance, shooting Yoongi a dirty look, before he softened and opened up the oven carefully, Y/N waiting to see what he presented her. Seokjin had only ever made tapas-style dishes, easy to execute, so she was curious to see what he was going to pull from the oven. 

“No way! Jin, you made bread?” Y/N’s jaw was hanging loose, the jaguar hybrid taking a perfect boule of sourdough out on a sheet pan. Bread was something she hadn’t even attempted to make yet, and here Seokjin was, with a loaf that looked like it came from a prestigious bakery. “Don’t you need to make some sort of starter a week or so in advance?”

“Yeah, didn’t you notice that jar of sludge over on the coffee bar the past seven days?” Yoongi pointed to a mason jar that looked like a science project sitting by the coffee maker. Truthfully, since Yoongi usually made her coffee for her every morning, she rarely found herself in front of the carafe. 

“No…” Y/N mumbled, slightly abashed, Yoongi tutting at her and using a spatula to flip over some hash browns in a cast iron skillet. “I can’t even remember the last time I made my own coffee, to be fair!”

“Hmph. I think I spoil you too much,” Yoongi sighed with a shake of his head, so quietly that Y/N almost missed it. 

Her mouth dropped open to deny the accusation, mostly because there was nothing she wanted less than Yoongi to stop giving her princess treatment, but a sturdy grip on her chin turning her head away had thoughts clearing from her mind in an instant. Finding the vibrant flame-colored eyes boring roguishly into her face, she blinked, a chunk of warm bread pushed between her puckered lips, Seokjin lightly squeezing her jaw in his grasp to keep her mouth pried open. 

“How is it?” Seokjin cocked his head, thumb and forefinger stroking the hinges of her jaw as if to encourage chewing. 

Y/N did so numbly, finding it impossible to look away, while still somehow managing to actually taste the delicious bread he had tossed into her gaping mouth. Under her nose, he had even buttered the chunk of bread while she was preoccupied by Yoongi’s teasing, the rich fattiness of the butter complimenting the full-bodied flavor of the sourdough. It was the best bread she had tasted in years, putting the local bakery in the town square to shame. The fact that it was his first time baking something like that and having it turn out heavenly was frankly unfair. 

“Seokjin, it’s fucking delicious,” Y/N announced after a thick swallow, her tastebuds already begging for another slice. With a satisfied purr, Seokjin released her jaw– which she didn’t even realize he was still gripping– his human ears turning pink and the jaguar ones fluttering in delight. “Seriously. I might eat that whole loaf.”

“Jinnie, cut me a slice! Feed me, too!” Hoseok strolled into the room, wearing a red tracksuit and his hair a little sweaty from a likely morning workout. 

Y/N did end up having her little chat with Hoseok about the whole “favoritism” thing, which he felt badly about once she was able to have a moment alone with him. During an afternoon of trying out a yoga video on Youtube together, they talked about it at length. While it was awkward and uncomfortable at first, as always she left conversations with Hoseok with a stomach cramping from too much laughter and a certain, fresh outlook on life. Since then, he’d promptly gone back to his normal, clever and upbeat self; and things between him and Jeongguk had been patched up as if nothing had ever occurred. 

“Only if you say please,” Seokjin retorted, giving Y/N a little pat on the top of her head as he began to slice a slab of bread for the fox hybrid. 

It seemed with each passing day, the extreme shyness that Seokjin had once hid himself behind was melting away, and his personality was turning out to be a lot more teasing and sly than Y/N originally thought. The blossoming of some of his extroverted tendencies had made sense of why Seokjin and Hoseok had formulated a close bond so quickly at the shelter. Hoseok must have sniffed out the underlying troublemaker in the jaguar hybrid. 

“Heh. Please,” Hoseok drew out his plea obnoxiously, hungrily watching Seokjin spread a thick smear of butter over the bread, an amused smirk on the fox hybrid’s face. 

With that, Seokjin leaned over the island, sticking the sliced bread into Hoseok’s mouth, a squeaky laugh shaking his broad shoulder as Hoseok groaned pleasurably and dramatically. 

Hoseok’s next quip was around a mouthful of bread and a generous amount of butter. “Who woulda thought you were so demanding of manners, Jinnie?”

Seokjin sliced up the rest of his sourdough to be toasted with breakfast, a content simper on his face, Y/N finding her way to the breakfast nook in order to escape any more touches from Seokjin that had heat curling in her gut. Under Jimin’s watchful eye, and at times his reproachfulness towards the other hybrids, she knew no one else would try and tease her in his presence. Taehyung, who had been lurking around the coffee bar making himself some kind of iced, sugary concoction, slid into the booth beside her, sandwiching Y/N between him and Jimin. 

“Hey, Tae, if you’re going to be outside today for the firewood, do you mind helping Jimin and I out with the horses that’ll be dropped off around noon? It might be better to have another pair of hands. I believe two, maybe three are being brought over,” Y/N sipped her coffee indulgently, letting it heat up her insides. 

With the mention of his name and their shared task for that afternoon, Jimin’s ears perked up immediately and he set his newspaper down. Tae gave her a thumbs-up, whipped cream coating his upper lip from his drink, Y/N noting how he looked 100% human with his beanie on, his rounded ears hidden beneath. 

“What are horses' names, again, Y/N?” Jimin accepted a plate of breakfast food from Yoongi with a polite nod, the leopard hybrid placing a second one heaped with outrageous portions in front of Y/N. Y/N had an inkling that Yoongi’s love language was making sure she was always well fed. 

“Blue, Oliver, and possibly Willow, if her owners can make it today,” Y/N recalled, her eyes to the ceiling to pull the information out of her brain. Though she was once a veterinarian and often treated horses, taking care of so many that lived in her backyard full-time was sort of intimidating. It was lucky that she could heavily rely on Jimin, who was at home almost always, and grew up taking care of horses specifically. 

Sneaking a peek at the coyote hybrid beside her, who was the picture of anticipation scanning the backyard through the picture window behind the breakfast nook, she melted in her seat like a pat of butter in a scorching pan. Jimin was a striking combination of delicately beautiful and ruggedly handsome, and quite frankly Y/N found it unjust. To her, it was wrong that someone could be simultaneously runway material and dripping with inherent brawniness. 

Additionally, the sort of romantic dreaminess that Jimin often displayed in his actions (unbeknownst to him, Y/N believed) practically made him into a Jane Austen hero that walked off of the weathered pages and into her reality. It was extremely difficult not to fall for the coyote hybrid, and Y/N spent a good chunk of her time trying to grapple with that whenever she hung out with him in the stable. A man who was gentle and caring towards animals was certainly high up on her wishlist for a lover. 

“Alright. Everything is all set in the stalls, I put hay in three of the vacant ones this morning just in case,” Jimin grinned at Y/N, as if he could read her mind and see the thirsty thoughts floating around in her skull. Hastily covering up her guilt, she took a scalding swig of her coffee, wincing at the sear in her esophagus. 

“Eat up, Y/N. The eggs taste like shit when they’re cold,” Yoongi interrupted her coughing fit, his eyes narrowed from his spot by the sink, Y/N unaware he was even monitoring her. There was an odd look on his face, his fine features shadowy, lips downturned at the corners, and his ears twitching in agitation. Okay?

Obediently, Y/N worked through her comically large plate of breakfast, giggling at Hoseok and Seokjin teasing each other at the island, their jabs at each other filling the kitchen with a little sunshine despite Yoongi’s sudden storminess. She’d have to ask what was up with him later, when they cooked dinner together. 

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Mr. Orlov! I’m so glad you could bring her today. We’ll take great care of her,” Y/N stroked Willow, a dapple gray, gently on her strong neck, admiring how soft her coat was. Mr. Orlov was a good friend of her grandfather’s, a Russian immigrant, and was planning on spending the winter in Arizona with his wife. 

“I’m sure you will. Your grandfather spoke highly of the young man who will be helping you. A former ranger hybrid, no?” Mr. Orlov asked in his thick accent, walking beside Y/N and his horse with his hands clasped behind his back. 

Though it was the forth time she was escorting a horse through her backyard towards the stable, she still found it a bit funny to do so, especially without Jimin. He was busy in the stable already, tending to the two new horses and his own. 

“Yes, Jimin worked at the Yellowstone ranch, so he’s very experienced. He even used to train horses! I’m really fortunate to have him, he was able to fix up the old stable in the blink of an eye…” Y/N took the opportunity to gush about Jimin, soothingly patting Willow as she became a little skittish with the sounds of splitting wood off into the distance. 

“It is nice to know Willow will be close to home while I am away,” Mr. Orlov’s crystal blue eyes scanned the backyard for the source of the sound growing in volume. “Is that him?”

Taehyung, with his flannel tied around his waist and in a sweat-dampened white tee shirt, was by the little woodshed several yards away from the stable, an ax in hand and a neat pile of firewood beside the block he was chopping on. Mouth drying up at the sight, the sheer strength Taehyung possessed in being able to split a thick chunk of wood in one fell swoop, Y/N shook her head distractedly. 

“No, that’s Taehyung, another one of my hybrids,” Y/N gave Taehyung a weak wave when his head whipped up upon hearing his name coming from her lips. He adjusted the beanie on the top of his head, blinking at her stoically, returning to his task. Y/N had the feeling he was aware she was peeved he was only in a tee shirt in fifty degree weather. “Jimin is in the stable.”

“That’s him?” Mr. Orlov pointed towards the chicken coop, where Seokjin was shaking out a bag of feed with the birds pecking around his feet. 

“Uh, no, that’s not him either,” Y/N chuckled sheepishly. She wondered if her grandfather had told Mr. Orlov just how many hybrids lived with her. It was the sort of thing that tended to be a bombshell dropping during conversations with curious strangers. “Just through here, let’s bring Willow inside and see how she likes her new digs!”

Mr. Orlov politely waved at Seokjin, who had a chicken tucked under his arm. Due to the colors of the feathers, Y/N could tell it was Sable– her and Jimin had named all of the chickens– the hen that was greediest with the food and often ate more than her share. Chuckling at the bird struggling to free herself from Seokjin’s arms, Y/N slowly led Willow and Mr. Orlov into the stable, which was lit up nicely and immaculately swept clean. 

“Ah, gorgeous. You fixed up this place very well, I remember what it looked like last winter,” Mr. Orlov took a look around, Jimin appearing from one of the stalls with a wide grin that made his eyes narrow into slits. 

Probably sensing that Y/N was in need of more experienced hands to take over horse duty, he hurried over, hands already extended– one to shake Mr. Orlov’s hand, another to take the reins from Y/N’s clammy fist. Relieved, she took a few steps away from Willow, watching Jimin lead the horse and her owner to a free stall, one next to Vista, Jimin’s own horse. Y/N noticed the ground of the stable was a bit wet, the scent of shampoo slightly perfuming the air from when Jimin had given Vista a bath earlier that afternoon. 

She let Jimin handle himself and take over answering any questions Mr. Orlov had about the stable and how they’d care for Willow. Truthfully, she would just be awkwardly standing there while they chatted, and Jimin could definitely handle talking to Mr. Orlov himself, so she gave Vista a soft pat on her nose before heading back outside to see if Seokjin had gotten his arms pecked bloody. 

When she left the stable, Seokjin was already gone. It was kind of brisk outside, and since Seokjin was not a fan of chilly weather, she figured he had gone back inside as soon as he fed the chickens to warm up by the fire. Taehyung was still busy chopping wood, and Y/N realized that he had found an old portable CD player and was listening to something as he worked, the old headphones he typically plugged into the turntable attached to the device clipped to the belt loop of his jeans. He still somehow managed to hear her as she walked towards the house, even with the music playing– or perhaps he caught a whiff of her. Either way, he gave her a closed-mouth smile, sweat collecting along where his beanie met his forehead. 

Y/N’s phone began to ring in her pocket, making her pause and plop down onto a lounge chair on the patio beside the kitchen door. The caller ID showed a picture of Ben from college, drunk and eating ramen with a fork. 

“Hey Ben! What’s up?” Y/N picked at her cuticles, which were unfortunately drying out due to the change in seasons. 

“Same old, Roy just took Daisy to the grocery store. She wanted spaghetti for dinner, and we were fresh out.” Ben sounded like he was bustling around his kitchen, pots and pans clanging together. “How’ve you been? Didn’t you say there were some people dropping off horses at your place today?”

“Yeah, three of them got dropped off today. You should see Jimin, he’s so happy,” Y/N felt warm fuzziness envelop her, imagining the radiance of Jimin’s joy in her mind. “I’ve been really good lately. I finally feel like the routines are making sense and flowing.”

“That’s a relief. You were running around like a headless chicken for a few weeks there,” Ben chuckled. “Speaking of chickens. Do you think I could get some eggs from you sometime this week? The last batch was awesome.”

“Of course! We have more eggs than we know what to do with, even with Hoseok boiling so many for his pre-practice snack,” Y/N snuck a peek into the kitchen slider, hoping to see Yoongi in there waiting for her to join him. However, no one seemed to be in the kitchen, which was highly unusual– all of the boys were prone to constant snacking. “Is that why you called? For more eggs?”

Y/N was teasing, but Ben texted her most of the time to catch up. When he’d call her, it was typically because he had something important to say. 

“No, actually. I have some news for you,” Ben cleared his throat, tone becoming more serious. “It’s about Hannah. She won her case this afternoon, and someone has already requested to adopt her. She’s out of Cirque Mystique.”

Y/N fell silent, heart pounding quickly in her chest. She hadn’t talked to Seokjin about what she had found out about Hannah yet, wanting to wait and see how her trial went before getting his hopes up that she had been freed from the circus. Now that Hannah was free, Y/N was suddenly stumped on how to bring it up to Seokjin. Since their chat about Hannah and the circus, the jaguar hybrid had not brought up the subject again. Part of Y/N wondered if he thought she forgot about it, since the conversation happened weeks ago– the thought making her heart squeeze. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N, did I cut out?” Ben whistled on the other end of the receiver, Y/N squeaking once she realized she had zoned out with him still on the line. 

“No, no, I heard you! That’s really great news, you said someone wants to adopt her?” Y/N recovered, watching Jimin escort Mr. Orlov back to his car in the distance. 

“The public defender who represented her, actually. I know the woman, she’s wanted to adopt a hybrid for a while, she’s extremely nice. Actually, she just decided to move to Upstate New York, more clients around there, more nature, et cetera. So her and Hannah will be moving at the end of the month, when the adoption goes through. I guess they really bonded over the course of the trial, Hannah felt safe with her,” Ben explained, Y/N trying her best to process all of this new information. “And I know what you’re thinking. You were probably itching to adopt Hannah for Seokjin, but seven hybrids is already a handful for you, Y/N. This is a good thing.”

Lifting her eyebrows, she considered Ben’s accusation. Honestly, she wasn’t even close to thinking about adopting Hannah– Ben was right, seven hybrids was more than enough to keep her on her toes, an eighth would send her straight over the edge of sanity. Besides, adding another hybrid to the house was a recipe for throwing the carefully constructed balance she had created between her seven boys off kilter. 

“Ben, I might be a little off my rocker, but I’m not that crazy. It was difficult enough to get some of my boys to even tolerate one another, I’m not about to disturb the peace now,”  Y/N pushed a hand through her hair, wondering if there was a way she could arrange for Seokjin to meet with Hannah before she moved to New York. 

“Mm-hm, I’m sure,” Ben replied airly, as if he didn’t buy what she was saying at all. “Apparently, though, Hannah was asking about Seokjin. I told my friend– Sarah, is her name, the one adopting Hannah– that he was with you and he was safe. I think she’d like to see him, and I told Sarah that I’d ask if it was alright to pass on your contact information.”

“God, it’s like you read my mind. That’s totally fine, send over my number and email. I’ll definitely find time for Seokjin and I to meet up with them,” Y/N agreed, growing anxious to tell Seokjin the good news. There was no telling how he’d react, but she was hoping that it would be positive. “Listen Ben, thanks for letting me know. I gotta get going though, I want to break the news to him.”

“Just as well. I have a Zoom meeting with a client in half an hour, enough time for me to finish roasting vegetables for dinner. We have to blend them into the tomato sauce to get Daisy to eat anything green, ironic for a bunny hybrid,” Ben bid Y/N goodbye, hanging up with a curse as it sounded like he may have burned himself on a hot pan. Ben’s cooking skills were never really something to write home about. 

Shivering, eyes trailing after Jimin making haste back across the yard to the stable, Y/N took a calming, deep breath as if to steel herself. Strangely enough, she was becoming nervous to talk to Seokjin, which was unnerving and even a little alarming. Gnawing on her lip, she tried to swallow down the anxiety, pulling her sweater closer around her body and finding her way back into the house. 

Y/N’s anxiety subsided monumentally as soon as she found Seokjin. He had made himself comfortable in the parlor, arguably the warmest room in the house, wrapped up in a throw blanket with the fireplace alight and his attention on the cooking channel. Without a word, Y/N took a seat beside the jaguar hybrid, his chest rumbling with purrs as she squirmed into a suitable position. In amicable silence, Y/N defrosted next to Seokjin for several moments, humming softly when he peeled back a corner of his blanket to pull it over Y/N, as well. 

“You shouldn’t spend so much time outside when the weather is like this. You’ll catch a cold,” Seokjin murmured after a while, eyes focused on Gordon Ramsay demonstrating how to cook the perfect duck entree. He attempted to put off nonchalance, but his eyebrows were knitted and Y/N could tell he was slightly admonishing her. 

“For someone born in December, you sure hate the winter, huh, Seokjinnie?” Y/N deflected, naturally scooching closer to his elevated body heat. It was nice that the hybrids were such warm beings, perfect to cuddle up to. “Speaking of, have you found a place you’d be interested in going to eat for your birthday?”

Y/N knew that she was beating around the bush, but her brain was still trying to come up with a way to bring up what she had discovered about Hannah. Luckily, it seemed that the rest of her hybrids were either outside or holed up in their bedrooms doing their own thing. She swore she had heard Yoongi on the piano when she had come inside, a familiar tune he often played but never directly in front of her, but the music had stopped abruptly as soon as she sought out Seokjin. 

Grumbling, Seokjin didn’t seem to like her obvious change in subject and disregard for his fretting, but his features softened as he finally cast a look downwards at her. He pulled his phone out from under the blanket, tapping away on the internet browser with determination, before holding the phone out in front of Y/N’s face, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. 

“Oh! Ramsay’s Kitchen? As in Gordon Ramsay? There’s one of those in Boston? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, he is a household name around here,” Y/N gingerly took Seokjin’s phone from him, flicking through the website’s gallery. 

Seokjin didn’t say anything, his cheeks a little pink as he watched Y/N check out the website, his ears dropping down sideways as if she was going to tell him they couldn’t go or something. 

“Mmm… the menu looks delicious. Hey, your birthday falls on a Sunday, so we could go to brunch– only if you want! We can go any time, really. It’s entirely up to you, it’s your day, after all,” Y/N passed Seokjin’s phone back to him, the jaguar hybrid pulling his teeth from his lip, blood rushing to the flesh and making his mouth look even more tempting than ever. 

“No, brunch is perfect! There’s more to choose from on the menu, for brunch. Are you sure we can go there? You don’t mind driving into the city?” Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, blinking harshly at her like he had sand in his eyes. 

“The drive is nothing. It’ll only take us like half an hour to get there, don’t worry about that. Want me to make a reservation? I think it’s probably wise considering Ramsay’s popularity…”

“I can do it,” Seokjin assured, already looking for the page to reserve a table. “Do you think everyone else will come along?”

“Do you want them to?” Y/N cocked her head, speaking cautiously. Perhaps he only wanted to go with her and Hoseok?

“I mean, whoever wants to come can tag along. I don’t mind,” Seokjin mumbled quietly, fingers hesitating on the drop-down menu that asked how many would be in their party. 

“Uh, why don’t you just reserve a table for eight, and if anything changes, I’ll give the restaurant a call. Okay?” Y/N made a mental note to convince everyone to join in for brunch, even the ones who tended to be late risers, because as much as Seokjin was trying to appear neutral, she could tell he secretly wanted everyone to be present. Whether or not his reasoning was so he could try more menu items, Y/N didn’t know. 

They lapsed back into silence for a bit, Seokjin finishing up the reservation form and the both of them watching Kitchen Nightmares with the occasional shared giggle. The mid-afternoon light was beginning to wane, filling the parlor with blue light, the fireplace offering a dim, homey glow. 

“Seokjin, I have some news for you,” Y/N spoke up abruptly during a commercial break, unable to hold information back anymore. Besides, she’d have to get going on dinner in a bit with Yoongi, and she promised the leopard hybrid that they’d bake something for dessert together, too. 

Reaching forward, she lowered the volume of the television, twisting her body and curling her legs to the side so she could face Seokjin fully. Able to sense her change in demeanor, serious and full of purpose, Seokjin promptly tore his attention from the TV, a quizzical look on his beautiful face, his nose slightly twitching. 

“So, remember a while ago, when we talked about Cirque Mystique, and I said I’d have Ben look around for some information?” Y/N dove in headfirst, deciding that she had been stalling for far too long. 

Watching the color drain from Seokjin’s face, he went rather still, even the constant twitch of his ears had paused in their movement. Not wanting him to think she had bad news, she reached for his hands under their shared blanket, the feeling of his crooked fingers slotting against hers boosting her confidence. 

“Hannah is fine,” Y/N assured at once, Seokjin’s mouth dropping open and his loose grip on her hands squeezing weakly. “Ben’s public defender friend, Sarah, actually represented Hannah in a negligence case against the circus. Hannah won her case, and she doesn’t have to work in the company anymore.”

“She’s free?” Seokjin breathed, his face still extremely pale and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed repeatedly, like he was trying to lubricate a dry throat. 

“She’s free,” Y/N confirmed, smiling wistfully as tears began to gather along Seokjin’s lower lash line. The sight had her heart absolutely breaking in her chest. “In fact, Sarah has requested to adopt her. She’ll be safe, living in a loving home. Ben said that Sarah and Hannah had bonded over the course of her trial, so I think this was the best possible outcome for Hannah.”

Seokjin began to process what she had revealed to him, periodically clutching Y/N’s hands in small pulses as his wide eyes flitted from each of hers, as if to detect any deceit. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, apparently at a loss for any kind of response, but Y/N let him take his time to sort out his emotions as she clung to his hands for dear life. 

“So… she’s going to be adopted,” Seokjin spoke barely above a whisper, releasing one of Y/N’s hands to use the inside of his wrist to dab away at his watery lash line. “That’s good. She’s not hurt?”

“No, she’s not hurt. Ben said she only sustained minor injuries, but those have definitely healed up by now,” Y/N was trying not to read too much into Seokjin’s reaction to the news– Hannah seemed to mean a whole lot more to Seokjin than Y/N had originally thought. An itchy, uncomfortable sensation began to bloom in her gut. Was it selfish to be jealous of Hannah? Probably, but it was near impossible to squash it down. 

Regaining his sense of self, Seokjin clumsily lurched forward, the blanket around them falling around their waists as he crushed Y/N in a fierce hug. His entire body crooked over her, and his wide shoulders did a good job of caging her in and shielding her from the world. Hands trapped between their chests pressed flush together, Y/N could only wind her fingertips into the fabric of Seokjin’s black tee shirt, breathing stuttered as Seokjin clutched her and shoved his face into her neck. The fabric making up the collar of her sweater was growing a bit damp, and Y/N realized Seokjin had allowed tears to fall freely down his cheeks, soaking into her top.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Y/N whispered, able to free one of her hands so she could smooth her palm down the back of Seokjin’s wavy head of raven hair. Shoulders slightly shaking, Seokjin pressed closer to her, almost forcing Y/N into his lap. “She’s going to be alright. Would you like to see her? Sarah said that Hannah was wondering about you, once she found out you were here with me.”

Pulling himself together slightly, Seokjin nodded into the crook of her neck, sniffling a little as Y/N’s previous jealousy melted away into concern for the jaguar hybrid. Still raking her fingers through his hair, she accidentally grazed the shell of his rounded, silky ear, a choked noise coming from Seokjin as he shuddered at the swift contact, his body becoming totally slack against her. Muttering a whoops, sorry, Y/N held onto Seokjin for a few more moments, her cheeks burning, before carefully maneuvering him off of her so she could assess his expression. 

“Oh, Seokjin… I didn’t mean to make you cry, honey,” Y/N’s throat was growing thick, the image of tears tracking down Seokjin’s face nearly unbearable to witness. Reaching up, she used her thumbs to tenderly brush away stray tears, Seokjin leaning into the touch and offering a weak smile. “I told Ben to give Sarah my information. As soon as she reaches out to me, we can make a plan. There’s one more thing…”

Seokjin shook his head, in order to encourage Y/N to continue talking even while he was overcome with emotion, trying his hardest to compose himself, his hands coming up to rub at his biceps self-consciously. 

“So, apparently Sarah is planning on moving to Upstate New York with Hannah, as soon as the adoption is finalized. Of course, we can visit whenever you’d like, but I just thought you should know that, as well,” Y/N now found it hard to look Seokjin dead in the eyes, her fingers fiddling with a stray thread poking out of the throw blanket tossed haphazardly across her lap. 

“New York? She… Hannah always wanted to live there,” Seokjin croaked, though a warmhearted beam began to grow on his face. Again, the itchy feeling in her gut returned, and Y/N felt overwhelming guilt flood through her. 

“She’ll love it there, I’m sure!” Y/N cheered, desperately hoping he couldn’t smell the emotions that were eating her alive only inches away from him. Shit, she was in deeper than she thought. “C-can… can I ask? How long have you known Hannah?”

Seokjin froze, scanning her face quietly, his friendly expression still in place but the barest hint of caution glazing over the set of his mouth. Immediately regretting her question, wishing she could stuff the words back into her trap and swallow them whole, Y/N began to wave her hands and chuckle everything off. 

“Jesus. Sorry, none of my business–”

“I’ve known her for about six, almost seven years. It’s okay, you can ask,” Seokjin gave Y/N a gentle pat on the back of her hand, likely noticing her picking at the loose blanket thread nervously. “She was brought into the company a couple of years after me. I had several friends in the company, but Hannah I felt closer to than anyone else.”

Digesting this, Y/N began to imagine what Hannah might have looked like, and how she acted. For Seokjin to speak so highly of her– and care so deeply for her wellbeing– she must have been an incredible person. 

“Ah, you might think this is ‘corny’, like when we watch those romance dramas with Hoseok and Jimin, but, um,” Seokjin made goofy air-quotes, his teeth coming down to chew on his lower lip once more. “But you know how those dramas often have a particular trope? Well, Hannah– I guess you could say– she was my ‘first love’.”

Then, Y/N’s ears began to ring loudly. Staring at the jaguar hybrid like he had just told her he planted a bomb in their basement, she took a split second to recover, once again chuckling like an idiot. The concept of one’s ‘first love’, as cheesy as it could be in dramas and novels, was nothing to laugh about, however. Often, the ‘first love’ stuck around in someone’s heart until the day they died.

“F-first love?” Y/N squeaked, and it dawned on her that she, herself, never experienced such a thing, so there was no way she could put herself in Seokjin’s shoes. “Are you still…?”

“In love? God, no,” Seokjin caught on to the unsaid, ever the perceptive one. “We realized early on we were better as friends, rather than lovers. She’s just a dear friend to me, now.”

Expecting to be placated upon hearing those words, Y/N’s brain was still chanting ‘she was my first love’ in Seokjin’s voice over and over in a loop like the creepy robed dudes in Eyes Wide Shut. All she could do was plaster a hopefully convincing impartial expression on her face, wishing another hybrid would bumble into the parlor and save her from her self-imposed humiliation.

“Oh! Um, well, it’ll be really nice to see her, huh? Sarah will probably contact me any day now, so we’ll set everything up, honey,” Y/N cleared her throat, praying her words didn’t come out like she was spitting them through her teeth. 

Y/N was engulfed in another organ-crushing hug, Seokjin thanking her profusely for finding out about Hannah for him, and swearing that he’ll have to bake some bread for Ben and his family to thank him as well. Nuzzling into his eucalyptus scented chest, Y/N concentrated on getting over herself; it wasn’t fair that she was letting her growing feelings for Seokjin get in the way of his relationship between him and his longtime friend– and former lover, she mentally added, bitterly so. She was only soothed by the gentle purring vibrating from Seokjin, the heavy weight of his tail wrapping around her hips. 

When she broke free after several moments, the tip of Seokjin’s nose pink, he announced that he wanted to clean up and take a shower before dinner, but Y/N suspected he was a touch embarrassed for crying in front of her. As he stood, he doubled back, planting a kiss on her forehead swiftly before scurrying out of the room like he was on fire. Reeling, Y/N sat statue still for the length of three commercials, attempting to unpack everything she had just experienced, until she broke free from Seokjin’s spell and switched off the television. 

“Yoongi? Angel, where are you?” Y/N had been milling around the house for thirty minutes trying to find her leopard hybrid so they could start on the dough for the cookies they were planning to make. 

She elected to freshen up after her conversation with Seokjin and showered, changing into some leisure wear. Y/N had already checked up on Namjoon, who was busy reading– she encouraged him to set up the chessboard in the parlor for later, but he claimed he wanted to finish reading the next few chapters of his book club selection, so she didn’t push him. 

Meanwhile, Hoseok had left her a sticky note on the fridge that he had gone for a run around the neighborhood, something that wasn’t unusual for him, Taehyung and Jimin were still outside, and she didn’t typically bother Jeongguk unless she was absolutely desperate to talk to him. That left only Yoongi available for her to pester, if she could find the slippery little bastard. 

“Angellll?” Y/N poked her head into the music room, to see if he had fallen asleep on the leather loveseat in front of the record player again. Alas, he was nowhere to be seen, and he had left all of the candles in the room lit and unoccupied. Frowning, she had run out of places to look for him– all of his usual spots were void of his presence. There was one last place to check; his bedroom. 

Y/N hadn’t gone into Yoongi’s bedroom since she adopted him, but he had chosen one of the tower rooms, so she pivoted and started down the hall with a pout. Yoongi was never one to ignore her, and would always appear whenever she’d call his name, so she was a little peeved. 

“Hey, Yoongi, are you in there? I thought you and I were going to bake together,” Y/N couldn’t keep the whine out of her voice, and she didn’t even feel ashamed about it. “Yoongi, I can hear you grumbling. Let me in?”

She could picture the eye roll he was giving her from behind the wooden door to his room, but the muffled sound of sock-clad feet padding to the door had her grinning in victory. Gotcha. 

As the door opened, Y/N was smacked in the face with the cologne-scented candle Yoongi liked to burn in his room, and she got a wider-than-usual visual of the bedroom than she would whenever she’d drop off his clean laundry at the door. Yoongi, dressed in sweatpants and a long-sleeved white tee shirt, wordlessly stepped aside so she could enter his room. 

“Are you avoiding me or something? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day, angel!” Y/N pouted, taking a seat on his desk chair with her arms crossed. His room was quite neat, but there was sheet music strewn about on his desk, handwritten notes scrawled across the pages. 

“No, I’m not avoiding you,” Yoongi similarly crossed his arms, leisurely sitting down on the foot of his bed across from her. “I practiced in the driveway for a little while with Foxy, came up here to shower, and then I planned out the next few piano lessons for you. Besides, weren’t you a little preoccupied with Seokjin?”

Taken aback at Yoongi’s flat, disinterested tone, Y/N blinked at him with shock. Yoongi never spoke to her with such a tone, and it certainly caught her off guard. 

“Okay, what’s up with you? Did I say or do something to offend?” Y/N demanded, recalling how he had been grouchy during breakfast as well. “Wait, do you need to scent? Is that it?”

“No, I’m fine, Y/N,” Yoongi responded quietly, looking out his window distractedly, like he couldn’t meet her eyes. His long hair was messy, like he was running his hands through it all day, and his tail was flicking back and forth on the bed behind him in an agitated manner. “Nothing’s wrong. How’s Seokjin?”

“He’s alright, why so curious all of a sudden?”

Silence. The awkward tension was entirely new between them, and it set Y/N on edge. She decided to try again. 

“There was something he asked me to find out about his past, I was just updating him on the news,” Y/N didn’t think she should divulge much more than that to keep Seokjin’s privacy, but she also didn’t want to ponder on the thought of Seokjin and Hannah’s reunion for much longer. 

“The past, huh?” Yoongi muttered cryptically, heaving himself off of the bed and moving so he could stand by his window overlooking the front yard, a scowl on his face. 

Y/N really only had a few clues about Yoongi’s past; he hadn’t really brought it up too many times. What he did bring up was working at the bar in Boston, with vague details, but that was all. Yoongi didn’t even know that Y/N had found out about his mother’s death via his report sheet on the hybrid database, and she wasn’t bringing that up at all until he did. 

So, Y/N didn’t really understand why Yoongi was being so weird. Was he hoping she was going to pry into his past? He hadn’t shown interest in discussing it before, so Y/N had no reason to fish around for information and risk opening old wounds for him. 

“Yeah, the past. Seokjin had me find out about a friend of his from the circus he was a part of. I’m sure if you ask him about it, he’ll tell you,” Y/N spoke slowly, waiting for the tension to break and for him to make some kind of wisecrack. 

“Do you remember everything from your past?” Yoongi voiced his question to the window, rather than Y/N herself, so close to the glass his breath fogged it up. 

Y/N thought that was an odd question. Everything? 

“I mean, I remember specific memories, if that’s what you mean, but I don’t remember every single thing that has ever happened to me,” Y/N felt like she was trying to answer some kind of riddle, and no answer would end up being correct. 

“Ugh,” Yoongi grunted, clearly not hearing what he wanted to. “Okay, let me rephrase. Has there ever been a time where you’ve forgotten something or someone completely from the past, like it was erased from your mind?”

“Is this a riddle, Yoongi?” Y/N blurted, bewildered. His ears flattened against his skull, back still turned to her. “I mean, say that something like that has happened to me. How would I even know? If it was like it was erased from my mind, how would I even remember the person or the event at all?”

She felt like she was talking in circles, and she wished that Yoongi would just tell her what all of this was about. He might have been a mind reader, but she certainly wasn’t. 

“Nevermind, Y/N, it doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s get started on dinner,” Yoongi sighed, his shoulders drooping as he briskly left the room and Y/N sitting at his desk in confusion. 

“Joonie, I’m rustier than I thought,” Y/N complained, sitting across from the wolf hybrid as he kicked her ass for the second time during their chess match. He smirked, and she wanted to reach across the table and wipe that grin off of his face with her thumb. “Besides, you cheated. You read like five books on strategy. Not fair.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Y/N, darling,” Hoseok called over his shoulder, curled up on the sofa in front of the TV. While his head was turned, Y/N gave him the finger, watching the fox hybrid snort with glee at the bitter gesture. 

“Honestly, Y/N, I really wasn’t even using any of the strategies, I think you might just be terrible at chess,” Namjoon leaned back in his seat, amusement all over his handsome face. 

She squawked in offense, pelting a pawn at his broad chest, the wooden piece hitting one of his pecs and unceremoniously clattering to the floor. Namjoon simply raised an eyebrow at her, as if to challenge her to try that again, before plucking the piece off of the floor with his elegant– and apparently, talented, fingers. 

It was a Friday, and it was one of the afternoons that was free of any events at the rec center. Y/N was blowing her entire paycheck from Judy’s on gas and groceries alone, but the added $3,000 she was getting monthly from boarding the horses was nicely supplementing her income. She spent the morning with Jimin, helping him give the horses baths, took a walk with Taehyung around the neighborhood to take some pictures for his clubs, and was now getting kicked in the ass by Namjoon on the chessboard. All the while, Jeongguk, Hoseok, and Seokjin were going through Quentin Tarantino’s entire filmography– currently on Kill Bill. 

“Christ, the blood is so fake looking. Did they even fucking try?” Jeongguk pointed out from his spot on the recliner, between a mouthful of popcorn Seokjin had brought out for them all. 

“Gratuitous violence, obvious fake blood. That’s Tarantino for you,” Y/N stood stiffly from her seat, waving an imaginary white flag. “You win, Joonie, I give up for today. Loan me one of those strategy books, why don’t you, so I can stop embarrassing myself?”

Before Namjoon could reply, Jeongguk had more commentary to offer, scoffing at the TV. 

“Tarantino. I heard he’s a fucking douche canoe,” Jeongguk stuffed more popcorn into his mouth, and Y/N had never seen him look less intimidating in her life. 

Seokjin audibly winced at Jeongguk’s word choices, glaring at him disapprovingly. Y/N, however, had to choke down her laughter in the palm of her hand. 

“Sure he is, but he makes great movies,” Y/N agreed, making her way to the back of the sofa, soothingly giving Hoseok a light scalp scratch. Violence corny or not, the fox hybrid wasn’t a huge fan of blood and guts. 

Unfortunately for the hybrids in the parlor, Namjoon joining the others by sitting on the floor by Seokjin’s feet, Y/N had to part with them. It was about time for her weekly piano lesson, and for once, she wasn’t eager for it. 

Since that previous Tuesday, Yoongi had been acting strangely around her. He wasn’t nearly as clingy as he always was, and his replies to all of her questions and comments were clipped and quite short. Honestly, it depressed her quite a bit, and she spent hours at night staring at her ceiling combing through her memories to find something that might have caused his change in demeanor.

Trudging up the stairs slowly, Y/N paused halfway up, listening to the sweet melody of the song Yoongi was currently playing on the piano. It had become her absolute favorite tune that he played, and she had a hypothesis that Yoongi might have composed it himself. Sensing her approach from the stairs, the song was cut off halfway, disappointment flooding though Y/N. She wondered why he never played it right in front of her. 

“Hi, Yoongi,” Y/N slipped into the room, promptly perching herself beside him on the piano bench. Her heart ached looking at him, purplish circles under his usually vibrant hazel eyes, as if he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. “What are we doing today?”

“I figured we could attempt something more difficult. ‘Someone Like You’, Adele,” Yoongi tapped on the sheet music he had printed out, missing the spark of excitement that lit up Y/N’s face. Usually, they’d do short tunes, nothing that one would hear on the radio. She must be improving, in his opinion. 

Not making his usual small talk, Yoongi dove into teaching her patiently, all business. Y/N jolted whenever his foot would press over hers on the sustain pedal, so embarrassingly starved for his touch it was humiliating. She didn’t know how to get back to how they were prior to that week, but she felt like she needed it more than she needed to breathe. 

They made it up to the chorus by the time an hour had passed, and that was typically how long Yoongi would teach her before Y/N’s wrists would get sore. Massaging them, Y/N bit her lip, watching Yoongi scrawl a note where they left off in the score, his hair hanging in his face and curtaining it from her. 

“Yoongi, what’s that song you always play when you’re alone?” Y/N tried to get him to stay with her longer, to open up, anything. She wasn’t sure if it was the right topic to bring up, but again, she was desperate. 

Yoongi stilled, pushing hair behind his ears and finally looking her in the eye. When he could smell the melancholy coming off of her in suffocating waves, his features softened, and he felt like he could tell her anything that she wanted to know. 

“It’s just something I play mindlessly,” Yoongi dismissed, tongue peaking out to moisten his lips. “I wrote it a long time ago.”

“I thought that you might have written it,” Y/N brightened up a little, suddenly very impressed with Yoongi’s talent. “It’s beautiful, I love it. Why don’t you ever play it for me?”

Yoongi went pink, shockingly, and diverted his eyes at once. Y/N wasn’t having it anymore. 

“Yoongi, can you tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been distant all week, and if it was something I said or did, I want to make amends,” Y/N begged, her voice fraying at the end– she felt like she was going to have a nervous breakdown at that point. “I really miss you.”

Her final utterance was soft, broken, and small. Yoongi’s head immediately whipped up, smelling the salinity of tears gathering in the corner of Y/N’s eyes, and he suddenly felt like the world’s biggest prick. 

“Come here, I miss you too, sweetheart,” Yoongi broke down, pulling Y/N in for a hug by her waist, gently wrapping his arms around her middle as she swallowed down her tears. “I’m sorry, don’t cry, please, don’t cry because of me. I’m an asshole.”

“No you’re not,” Y/N sniffed into his chest, soothed by the scent of his spiced vanilla shampoo. She hadn’t been close enough to smell that comforting scent in days, but it felt like a lifetime. “You’re just stubborn. Is this about Tuesday? Your questions about me forgetting things from the past?”

“You can just forget about it, sweetheart, really. I’m sorry for being moody, it’s just…” Yoongi trailed off, looking conflicted and pained. 

“I’m not going to forget it, it’s clearly bothering you. Say your piece,” Y/N pulled away from Yoongi, staring at him expectantly. She wasn’t letting him out of her sight until whatever was on his mind was hashed out. 

Yoongi slouched on the bench running both hands through his hair and appearing to sort out his thoughts, perhaps figuring out where to begin. 

“Y/N, you went to school in Boston, right?” Yoongi spoke after several excruciating seconds, not waiting for her response but charging on, “I was born in Boston. Unlike most hybrids, I was born naturally, not created in a lab. My mom and I worked under the table at that bar I mentioned, The Black Lodge, remember?”

“I remember,” Y/N confirmed, having no ever-loving clue where he was going with this. 

“So, you never went to that bar? Think back, do you ever remember walking by it, hearing about it from someone?” Yoongi pressed, even though Y/N was almost positive she had no knowledge of that bar prior to adopting Yoongi. “It was near Chinatown. By that basketball court you mentioned you used to pass by on your way to school.”

“No, I’m sorry Yoongi… I don’t remember ever going to a bar called The Black Lodge.”

Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose delicately and nodding to himself. 

“I might not have gone to that bar, but honestly, Yoongi, since I’ve adopted you, I couldn’t help but feel this sense of familiarity with you. It’s the strangest thing. Have we… Have we met before? Is that what you meant the other day, about forgetting someone you’ve met before?”

Yoongi glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, hope sparkling there. Was it true? They have met prior to that day at the shelter? Why couldn’t Y/N remember it?

“Maybe,” Yoongi straightened up, apparently wanting her to piece everything together herself. Y/N was trying, despairingly so, not believing she could ever meet Yoongi and forget him in a hurry. 

“Maybe? Yoongi, be serious, have we met before? Why can’t you just tell me?” Y/N gave up her memory combing in favor of accusing Yoongi, her temper getting the best of her. 

Yoongi stood, groaning in frustration. He strode across the room, shutting the French doors to the music room, effectively making their conversation private. For good measure, the leopard hybrid pressed down on the pin that locked them inside, to prevent interruptions. The hair on the back of Y/N’s neck stood on end, not expecting Yoongi to act that way. 

“The Black Lodge, it was a fucked up place. I don’t really know exactly what was wrong with it, if it was cursed, some kind of fucking portal like those losers on paranormal shows you and Jeongguk watch talk about, or if it was built on a magical tectonic plate that made it the fucked up place that it was,” Yoongi collapsed onto the leather loveseat, head tipped back as he ranted. 

“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, completely lost. Any sort of paranormal subject matter was something that didn’t typically interest Yoongi. He tolerated talking about it, but he wasn’t one to bring it up. 

“What I mean, sweetheart, is that you were there. One year ago, you were in The Black Lodge, on a Friday night, by yourself. But you can’t remember, because everyone who comes into the bar forgets it as soon as they leave,” Yoongi finally revealed, his voice tired and resigned. “Me, being the fucked up exception, of course.”

A pin could drop, and it would sound like a gunshot. Y/N, who had been standing by the piano, began to feel dizzy from this confession, so she woodenly walked to the loveseat and dropped down heavily beside Yoongi. His spotted ears perked up with her movement, but he seemed to give her a few moments to process. 

“How is that possible? It can’t be, there’s no way… there’s no way…” Y/N babbled, Yoongi using a hand to rub slow circles on her back. “I met you a year ago? How could I? How could I possibly forget you?” 

“Everyone forgets The Black Lodge, except for those who actually work there, for some reason. Patrons forget, and they usually never come back. You were not exempt from that, no matter how much I wanted to believe you would be,” Yoongi murmured, and Y/N realized that he had been holding on to all of this information for months, probably waiting to see if she would ever recover the memory. 

“Did we talk at all? Yoongi, I swear, I would have remembered if we did. This doesn’t make any sense,” Y/N started to feel delirious, staring at Yoongi imploringly. 

Yoongi’s hand on her back became motionless, resting over a shoulder blade. Though he definitely looked relieved to finally be sharing all of this with her, Y/N could tell there were things that he was holding back. Reeling too much to pry, she waited for him to speak again. 

“Yes, we talked. After I played piano for a bit, you approached me. I made you drinks, and we talked for a while.”

Expelling a breath she had been holding, Y/N took a look, a good look at Yoongi, soaking in every feature, every strand of hair on his head, the twitch of an ear, the shape of his jaw. That ever-present emotion, the sense of familiarity, returned tenfold, and suddenly she couldn’t deny that Yoongi was telling the truth. 

“So you must have recognized me at the shelter? You should have said something, Yoongi,” Y/N said mournfully, feeling bad that he had been holding onto this for so long, waiting for her to remember him. It formed a sour pit in her stomach. 

“I didn’t really know how to. I could tell the day you came in, you had no idea who I was,” Yoongi replied gently, still looking like he was holding onto a key bit of information. “You know, when you came in, I thought you recognized me, even though I was shifted. I thought you came back the next morning to adopt me, but then you adopted the other six as well…”

Y/N’s heart started to race, the conversation taking a more intimate, meaningful turn, and it had her head spinning. 

“I couldn’t leave you all there,” Y/N breathed, Yoongi nodding along with her response. 

“I know that. I also know you’re not totally well-versed in hybrid behavior, let alone for hybrids like all of us, but there’s something I should tell you. We’re not, by nature, entirely fond of having to share the human who adopts us. That’s why you’ve had a hard time with some of them, like Namjoon and Jeongguk. Myself, well, I wish I could say it didn’t bother me like it did them, but I’d be lying to you.”

“What?” Y/N, like she was shocked by a live wire, felt her stomach doing somersaults, the room becoming insufferably hot around her. “S-share me? I–”

“We’ve all made peace with it, of course,” Yoongi cut her off, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. “We’re all happy here, I think, with you. I just thought that telling you that would give you some perspective on the jealousy that will probably worsen over time.”

“Yoongi, I don’t even know what to say…” 

“Y/N, I know how you feel,” Yoongi interrupted once more, his expression serious as his hand shifted from her shoulder blade to her upper arm. “About us, all of us. For now, I think I’m the only one who knows, but you can’t hide it from them forever.”

With this statement, Y/N actually flinched off of the loveseat, shooting across the room to gawk at Yoongi with astonishment. 

“What are you talking about? The fact that I care about all of you? I think we’ve established that,” Y/N attempted to throw Yoongi off, just in case he was getting at what she thought he was. No way. Was she about to get rejected, her romantic feelings snuffed out like a flame?

“Call it that, sure, Y/N. Take your time to process your feelings, and we’ll talk about it then,” Yoongi sighed, standing and moving towards the door, apparently trying to end the conversation and move on with their evening. Not on Y/N’s watch. 

“Oh, no way, Yoongi, you can’t just say something like that and expect me to drop it,” Y/N gripped his wrist, blood rushing in her ears as he looked down at her through his lashes. “Besides, there’s something you’re not telling me. The whole thing about us meeting at The Black Lodge and everything, it doesn’t add up.”

“How so?” Yoongi lifted a brow at the change of subject, eyes on her hand encircling his wrist. 

“Well, if what you say is true, and everyone who patrons that bar forgets about it and never comes back, you’ve must have met thousands of people over the years. What about me was so memorable?” Y/N challenged, shock settling over Yoongi’s face, almost comically so. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Deadly. What, did I spill my drink on you?”

“No, I told you, we talked. I made you a drink, some kind of gin martini. You left, and you never came back,” Yoongi explained, his never-ending patience seemingly beginning to wear thin. 

“What did we talk about?” Y/N began to pry, secretly pleased that she had distracted him enough to not press the whole ‘I know how you feel’ situation. 

“I don’t know, Y/N, your classes? The weather, piano? Normal stuff.”

“So talking about university classes, the shitty weather, and music left enough of an impression on you to recognize me after a year?” 

“What exactly do you want me to say, sweetheart? I can’t help that I remember that night and you don’t!” Yoongi exclaimed, his voice raising a tad as annoyance washed over him. 

“I want you to tell me what you’re keeping from me.”

They glared at each other, the only sound in the room from the metronome ticking away on the piano that Yoongi had forgotten to switch off. Shaking her grip from his wrist, Yoongi pushed back some of his hair again, sucking his teeth. 

“Fine. You asked for my number,” Yoongi admitted, watching Y/N’s expression carefully. 

“Okay, yeah, that sounds like me. Again, something that probably happened to you all the time, I mean look at you,” Y/N was unconvinced this was the bombshell, Yoongi making a noise of exasperation. “I’m just going to assume you let me down gently, I was tipsy, and I said something embarrassing. Trying to pry this out of you is like pulling teeth, and I should get going on dinner.”

With that, Y/N unlocked the door to the music room, marching out into the hallway in embarrassment and making it halfway to the stairs before a grasp on her elbow yanked her back, Y/N’s world turning upside-down as Yoongi easily slung her over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Too stunned to make a noise, she limply felt Yoongi carry her into his bedroom, kicking his door shut behind them and setting her down on her feet, his eyes flashing with anger. 

“Will you just listen to me for a second?” Yoongi hissed, clamping his wiry hand over her mouth before she could cuss him out. This was her first spat with Yoongi, and it had her blood positively boiling. Shouldn’t this have been a tender moment, finding out that she really had known Yoongi all along?

“You came into the bar, torn up over a shitty exam result. I noticed you sitting at the bar while I finished up my set, but when I got up, you were heading my way. You complimented my playing and whatnot, and complained that the drink the bartender made you wasn’t stiff enough,” Yoongi articulated each word with precision, as if he was reliving the memory mentally. “I offered to make one for you. Like I said, we talked about your classes, the weather, music, and as the night went on, more personal things. You told me about your house, your friends, your family. I liked talking to you, so I sat beside you and we continued our conversation.”

Under his palm, Y/N’s cheeks were burning up, and she knew that Yoongi could feel it. She was hooked on every word, and she was convinced there was nothing in this world that existed other than Yoongi. 

“After a while, you asked me to show you where the bathroom was, and that you were thinking about heading out. I waited for you outside of the bathroom to say goodbye– I didn’t really want to, because I knew I’d never see you again, but I figured I’d have to suck it up– and you walked right up to me, pushed me against a wall–”

Y/N yelped from beneath Yoongi’s palm, ice-cold dread flooding through her. Oh no, she threw herself at him. He was right, she was better off not knowing. He pressed on, ignoring the noise she made. 

“You pushed me against the wall, dug a pen out of your purse, and demanded that I write my number down on your forearm. That, I promise you, hasn’t happened before. I’ve gotten numbers, but I never handed mine out– what’s the point, if they don’t remember you?”

When Yoongi was satisfied Y/N wouldn’t start hollering at him, he dropped his palm, tracing a pointer finger down the length of Y/N’s forearm, goosebumps following in its wake. Heart still pounding, Y/N found that she was sufficiently shut up. 

“For the first time, I had hope that someone would remember me, outside of coworkers. Hope that you’d walk out of that fucking bar, go home, pick up the phone, and call. Remember. As I was writing my number down, you grabbed my hand, led me down the hall towards the kitchens for ‘one more drink’. I think we did a couple of shots of gin, but the possibility of you calling me the next day was fucking with my head too much to really focus on what the fuck we were drinking.”

“Yoongi,” Y/N whispered, overwhelmed and on the verge of passing out, honestly devastated she couldn’t remember this evening with Yoong. 

“Before you left, I walked you to the door. You were talking about how you wanted to take me to this concert the following Friday, making all these future plans. I just… never met anyone like you. I didn’t want you to leave, but I wanted you to leave just to see if you’d come back.”

“And I never did,” Y/N finished for him, hating the way Yoongi looked so regretful. “You waited, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, I waited. I knew it wasn’t your fault, it was the fucking curse or whatever on the bar, but I waited. Each day that passed I grew less and less hopeful, until I realized you likely walked out of that bar and wondered why the hell you had a strange number on your arm.”

“Yoongi, I’m sorry,” Y/N sniffed, overcome with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault, it’s the bar, and whatever is wrong with it,” Yoongi shook his head, guiding Y/N to lean against his wall for support, her knees shaky and unsteady. “In the end, I got to see you again, after all.”

“I must have really liked talking to you, huh? Just like now. And you must have made me one hell of a drink to push you against a wall and demand for your number,” Y/N tried to lighten the mood, now angry with herself that she had backed Yoongi into a corner. 

“Yeah, I really liked talking to you too. I really liked you.”

An odd look crossed over Yoongi’s face as soon as those words left his mouth, absently reaching down to tuck hair behind Y/N’s ear. Heart galloping in her chest at the gravity, the meaning of what he just said, Y/N wanted to reach out and touch him, but was completely frozen. Yoongi’s lips dropped open to say something, but no sound came out. 

“What is it?” Y/N murmured, noting how close they were standing. 

“There’s something else I haven’t told you,” Yoongi’s gaze was intense, penetrating, and pleading. “I don’t know how you’ll react, though.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing that can shock me now, angel…” Y/N had motion in her limbs again, hand on Yoongi’s cheek to tilt his face back to her, his eyes searching and unsure. 

He leaned his cheek into her touch before pulling her hand away, still holding it and watching her every reaction. His tail, which was anxiously swishing behind him, began to curl around her leg, and Y/N stood transfixed as Yoongi pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of her wrist, her palm, and finally the pad of her index finger. 

“That night, before you left. Before I said goodbye,” Yoongi whispered against her hand, maintaining their eye contact. “You asked me to kiss you, and I did.”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @lilmxchis @7evensin @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @sometingreallycool @cathy-1997

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: Drawings of the TUA Paranatural AU, mostly of the Sparrows. Alphonso and Sloane are both adults, wearing matching red and black suits. Both of them are spectrals, as indicated by the spectral energy rising off of them.

Marcus about twelve, the same as the majority of the Hargreeves. He is posing dramatically and wearing a polo shirt and khakis.

Fei and Jayme are both about 17, and are both vampires. Fei is wearing platform boots and an all-black outfit with a sheer skirt, and Fei is wearing a baseball tee and UFO pants.

The last image is of Umbrella Ben and Sparrow Ben. Umbrella Ben is a ghost, and looks about twelve. Sparrow Ben is alive, and a similar age to Fei and Jayme. End ID.]

I have decided what to do with the sparrows!

Alphonso and Sloane both work for the Commission on spirit-wrangling or whatever it is the commission does. They're a bit younger than Five (Sloane is 22, Alphonso is 20), and are roughly equivalent to Agent Day, for anyone familiar with the original comic. Basically, theyre there to snoop.

Marcus has some kind of band kid rivalry with Viktor. I don't know enough about band to determine what it is, but rest assured that they are very passionate about it.

Paranatural has vampires in it! I don't know what the deal is with vampires in paranatural so i wasn't going to include any, but specifically Fei and Jayme as vampires won me over. They probably spend their time trying to kill sparrow Ben.

Umbrella Ben and Sparrow Ben are both in this au! They're twins :)

[paranormalactivity5]

✮If you film me while I suck it you can be a superstar!✮

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Famous!Fem!reader

*This takes place in 1990 simply because cameras were smaller*

A/N: ok second ficc!!! I kinda don't like this tho but it got me out of writers' block soooooo. Also, love the writers' block after one fic. I welcome feedback and constructive criticism!

WARNINGS: P in V, oral sex (f receiving), one thigh slap, chocking, lmk if anything else but I don't think so

word count: 1.2k

You were sitting there staring at yourself in the mirror occasionally taking a nervous peek at the not yet recording camera set on the table next to you, waiting for Eddie to get home. It was Valentine's Day and you finally had the day off but just your luck, Eddie had press all day for Corroded Coffins' new album, you really couldn't be more proud of your boy but…really? Today? You had loved Valentine's Day even before getting into a relationship, just seeing people be happy and in love was nice, and now you were one of them but of course, Eddie's manager Brenda had to take that away, however, you still had some tricks up your sleeve.

Eddie had bought up the idea of possibly recording yourselves having sex, which you were apprehensive about considering your status but you were very intrigued by the idea…..you didn't tell him that though. You wanted to wait for the right moment to bring it back up and this was it. You were dressed up in a light tan sheer little two piece that was littered with little red hearts, it fit you fucking perfectly. He was going to lose his mind.

The second you heard his car pull up in the driveway you threw on your regular fluffy black robe with little comic skulls on it and put the chicken pot pie you had prepared earlier in the oven, you only put it in now because you knew you would be occupied for awhile. You greeted him at the door saying your hellos, and a quick peck on the lips “mmmhp is that chicken pot pie?” he asked smiling “yup, just put it in the oven”. He tells you about his day and all the interviews he did but all you can think about is how hot he looks in those black jeans, that black tee shirt, and leather jacket. He turns around to hang his jacket up and you quickly drop your robe, exposing yourself. He turns back to face you and you swear you can see his Brian short circuit, he does that every time he sees you like this but just as he also does every time he rapidly gatherers himself and a smirk appears on his face. “Well damn baby…” he always speaks so smoothly “I mean I knew you would probably do something but shit, I wasn't expecting this” You can already see him beginning to harden in his jeans which in turn makes heat pool in your stomach.

He walks over and pulls you into him, kissing passionately, only ever pulling apart for air. “Jump” the command from him is so simple but it makes you oh so excited. You do as he says wrapping your legs around his waist and his hands grip your ass, he always holds you so effortlessly, he really is one of those guys that is so much stronger than they look. He begins to walk into your bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Once he gently sets you down on the bed he pulls up to remove his shirt he leans down again but you put your hand on his chest to stop him. He looks confused when you walk over to the dresser, until you hand him the camera.

He looks like he could blow his load right then and there. “...Are you sure?” he asks “Yes.” you say breathless and quickly reattach your mouth to his. He lays you down and turns the camera on but confuses you when he hands you the camera. He lowers himself and starts laying kisses down your stomach and on your hip bones, your breath starts to quicken and you can feel your clit throbbing with need. He continues down, now sucking hickeys into your inner thighs. After what feels like forever he ghosts’ his lips over right where you need him, you can feel his long hair tickling your thighs. He looks au at you with nothing but want in his eyes “Record this baby. Record me making you cum on my tongue”.

He peels your sheer panties off you, the string of your wetness to your underwear could be considered pornographic. The feeling of the cold room was quickly replaced by his warm mouth. You let out a loud moan. the second his mouth is on you he goes to work. Licking around and sucking your on your clit. You use your hand to rub your tit through your bra but he quickly stops his 

actions and slaps you on your thigh causing you to let out a whine. “Keep the camera on me. Or I stop.” he says sternly but you know its killing him not to have his mouth on you right now. You place the camera back on him and he dives back in. You can feel the tension building in your abdomen. For the first time, you look down and you can see him grinding himself into the edge of the bed, and feel him groaning into you; the vibrations are what send you over the edge.

He continued his work on your pussy letting you ride out your orgasm. As soon as you come down from your high his mouth is on yours and he tugs his pants off and puts the camera on the side table where it can get the perfect view. He looks at you for permission, you breathlessly reply “Yes” looking up at him with so much want you can barely see straight. He lines himself up with your entrance. As he pushes in you both let out moans of relief. He quickly begins to build up his pace, You're both moaning so loud  “fuck. Fuck yes. Take it” he groans. he’s pounding into you so good it’s mind numbing.

He pulls the cups of your bra down “Lemme see those perfect tits babe” and begins palming your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Oh my god Eddie” you moan out shakeily. He slides his hand up your body and around your throat just barely putting enough pressure on your pulse point to make your head spin. For the second time tonight, you feel the pressure build and you can tell he’s feeling the same from the way his thrusts are becoming more sloppy and his glorious abdominal muscles are tightening.

“Cum in me, please, Eddie cum in me” you beg him. He leans down to kiss you and his pelvis rubs against you triggering your orgasm, the feeling of you clenching around him triggers his own. You both ride out your highs moaning into each other's mouths. You now lay next to each other with him still inside you feeling the after shocks of your orgasms. “Oh my god….when was the last time I told you how much I love you?” he asks while chuckling sarcastically and you lightly slap him on the chest. Just in time for a nice dinner, after which you will probably show him some gratitude on your knees. 

[beansprean]

UPDATED MY FAMILIAR’S GHOST POSTER!

The comic has changed a lot since its inception, and since Dolly became such an integral character and we’ve now met vampire Guillermo, I really wanted to re-do it! So here we are!! You can even get a print/sticker/shirt/etc on RedBubble if it strikes your fancy!

Confused? Check out the comic from the beginning!!

You can also find the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: In the style of a movie poster. Ghost Guillermo, wearing that same sweater and a ghostly tail instead of legs, takes up the center of the frame, glowing in hues of blue, green, and purple. He has a translucent black cloak over his shoulders, tugging the hem close with his left hand, and is holding the forefinger of the right to his open lips in a shushing gesture. Behind him in the top right is the vampire residence at a low dramatic angle, lights and windows glowing as lightning strikes the sky beyond. Just below are busts of: the Guide with an indulgent smile, hands clasped together at her chest; Stu in a gas station work polo, giving a little wave with an awkward grin; Lilith with a dazzling if slightly crazy-eyed smile, looking over her shoulder with her hand poised dramatically upon it; and Derek in a gas station work polo, looking up at Ghost Guillermo with some trepidation. In the top left is a close up of Vampire Guillermo from below, wearing the same dress shirt spattered with blood, far side of his face set in deep shadow and chin held up in superiority as one glowing orange eye stares down at his ghostly self. They are all lit by the greenish-blue glow from ghost Guillermo. At the bottom, Nadja, Dolly, Laszlo, Colin Robinson, and Nandor stand waist-up in a row looking up at Ghost Guillermo. Nadja is slightly open-mouthed and less concerned than she probably should be, holding Dolly in the crook of one arm. Dolly is looking up with a similar expression, porcelain hand laid on top of Laszlo's on her knee. Laszlo, body turned completely to face his wife, has his head turned toward the viewer with a pinched expression, his eyes not on Guillermo but looking toward Colin at his back. Colin looks uncertain, frowning up at Guillermo with a laptop clutched to his chest with both arms. Nandor looks distraught and worried, wringing his hands together as he stares up at Guillermo. They are all lit in the same greenish-blue glow. The tagline is written in ghostly blue: “moving out… doesn’t mean moving on!”, and the title is listed at the bottom in dripping red font: “My Familiar’s Ghost”. At the bottom further ghostly blue text reads “a wwdits season 5 au” and “created by beansprean”. /end ID

[mamawasatesttube]

3, 4, 6, 14, 18, and 19 for the fanfic writer asks!

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

the courage of stars!!!! it marinated in my head for a WHILE before i was even able to put it into words. im pretty happy with how it turned out!!! kon is in the microwave <3 rotating <3

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

11 total in my wip folder, which is honestly... a way smaller number than it could be/has been sdkfh

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

lately ive been going back to meg's single dad clark au 🥺 lois bonding with baby kon save me.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

OOOHH i think midnight sun would make a really fun comic or animation... you could really get the kon scary alien creaturisms visualized, esp like the tapeta lucida when he first shows up, or the kontrast of when he's kneeling and being all soft with tim while there are four (4) immobilized and terrified rando goons behind him. hehe.

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

oh god. what lines have i ever written in any fic, ever. uhhh... OH i do still like this passage from "the courage of stars":

It’s kind of funny. He came here, running away from Earth to escape his problems, and yet they followed him. What’s a guy to do when he’s haunted by his own ghost?

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

WELL i've been picking at the timkon red sun projector one, so... snippet under the cut!!! note that it IS an explicit fic (although this part isnt exactly there yet bc im like 4k in and theyre not even fully nakey yet akjsdhf) (but. yknow. highly suggestive themes)!!

Fanfic Writer Asks!

Tim presses an open-mouthed kiss to his back as he eases the straps of the dress down Kon’s arms. He trails his mouth along the curve of Kon’s shoulder as he pushes one strap down his arm, and a pleasurable shiver runs down Kon’s spine. The dress slips down, lower.

“God, you’re so pretty,” Tim murmurs. He kisses one, two, three spots that feel random, but Kon knows (from many kisses before) that they’re where he has the most visible freckles on his back. One is just below his shoulder, another further down near his spine, and a third and fourth close together on his other shoulder blade.

Kon lets out a pleased hum, breathless. Tim’s hands wander, and Kon leans back into him a little. Tim doesn’t want him touching him back, yet, so—all he can really do is stand here and focus on Tim’s touch. “Mm.”

Tim nuzzles the back of his shoulder as he keeps sliding the dress down Kon’s body. It’s at his hips now, and Tim abandons it for a moment to slide his hands around Kon’s bare waist. He skims his palms along Kon’s ribs, traces the undersides of his pecs, and runs his fingers lightly over Kon’s nipples.

Kon sucks in a breath. He normally doesn’t notice, but—the air in their bedroom is slightly cool against his bare skin, and Tim’s teasing little touches only make the heat of his skin that much more striking. Sparks shoot through him as Tim feels up his chest, his chest warm against Kon’s bare back. Kon can feel the buttons on Tim’s shirt pressing into his bare, tender skin, can feel the barest touch of Tim’s nails as he skims them across his chest.

“Tim,” he murmurs, his heart pounding.

Tim’s lips brush his neck. “My clone boy.”

He lightly pinches one of Kon’s nipples, harder than usual—or maybe it’s that it just feels harder than usual. Sparks fly straight from Kon’s chest to his core, and Kon squeaks. “Ah!”

Tim’s breath tickles against his neck as Tim chuckles, his voice low and warm. “You’re extra sensitive here now, huh?”

“I—I guess,” Kon manages, squirming a little as Tim toys with his chest, both hands warm against him. “Nnh…”

Tim pinches his nipples again, rolls his thumbs over them, and hums. It’s a flirty, teasing touch that doesn’t linger; he moves on, caresses Kon’s collarbones and rubs down his sternum, and kisses his shoulder some more.

Then, abruptly, he pushes the dress down over Kon’s hips. It falls to the floor, pooling around his feet; Kon can feel the press of Tim’s belt buckle into his back, the metal cool against his skin, and it hits him: Kon is here, in his hands, at his mercy, vulnerable in more ways than one. Tim is fully clothed, in control, while Kon’s standing here in just a pair of black, lacy panties, with a red sun projector pressed against his throat.

[anonymoosen]

GAZ IS SO DONE WITH HIM-

ANYWAY HAVE THIS DOODLE COMIC BEFORE I GO OFFLINE FOR A LONG TIME CUZ OF EGGXAMS

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3 (UR HERE!!), PART 4

[gojos-thot-patrol]

soft launching a new AU right before kinktober, what could go wrong?

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Starring: An up and coming Suguru Geto, making his way in the punk scene

content warnings: None! Just an nsfw warning! Maybe a warning for toxic dynamics

Rockstar! Suguru, who only ever wanted to make music work as a career. He didn't care how or in what form, he just knew the only way he was going to be happy was if he was able to make music. It didn’t matter if that was in the form of his own band, as a ghost song writer, or producer, he didn’t care, as long as he was involved. Even if it was just him and his guitar alone forever, posting acoustic covers of Tool songs on YouTube. Plan B was to make plan A work. 

Rockstar! Suguru, who even with all of that in mind, still didn’t think that the band he formed with his childhood friends their senior year of high school to go anywhere. Gojo was an okay singer, but made up for it with stage presence. Nanami was an amazing bassist, but looked more at home in a comic book store than a punk band. And Ryomen was made to be a drummer for a metal band, from the look to the aggression, but he wasn’t very technically skilled and- again- it was a punk band. Looking back now Suguru isn’t sure why he was so concerned with getting “the look” right, but, that's high school for you.

Rockstar! Suguru, who didn’t really see a future in his little hobby band until well into his sophomore year of college. When Gojo took some vocal lessons and unlocked a phenomenal voice, and Ryomen honed in on his natural skill to become truly skilled, and Suguru finally learned to write music the way he heard it in his head- in a way that finally complimented the lyrics he wrote. Nanami didn’t have to change, Nanami was perfect from the beginning. Though, Suguru did convince him to throw on some eyeliner before their shows as “warpaint.” It was only then he convinced himself there might be something here.

Rockstar! Suguru, who treated every show as if they had sold out Madison Square Garden, even if it was just a dingy bar show like it was tonight. Who went up on stage with his brothers and played with everything they had, treating every dead crowd as a challenge, and who almost always had them dancing before the end of the set. Gojos natural ability to handle a crowd helped no doubt, but even the best front man can’t get a crowd to mosh to shitty music. He knew they had to have something here.

Rockstar! Suguru, who spotted you pressed against the stage one night and almost missed a note. Fuck, you were pretty. Decked out in your finest punk attire to come and see his little band. The way you danced and swayed despite the crowd at your back, like no one could see. Something about it stuck in his mind like a song stuck on repeat. Your eyes met and he couldn’t help but grin, throwing his pick to you and swelling with pride when he saw you giddily show it to your best friend. 

Rockstar! Suguru, who was playing for you and only you the rest of that set, whether you knew it or not.

Rockstar! Suguru, who went to help Choso run their merch table after the set, knowing it would be busy. 

Rockstar! Suguru, who bulldozed Choso over when he noticed him helping you, taking his place to be your clerk instead. He couldn’t get over your smile, and how you giggled when you realized he was with the band. He felt way cooler than he should have when you thanked him for the guitar pic, and he got to pretend like it was no big deal. He wasn’t shocked to hear it was your first time seeing his band live, but it was a shock to hear it was your first concert ever. Period. He almost didn’t believe it.

Rockstar! Suguru, who tells you “You’re made for the scene Doll,” As he drops an extra shirt in your bag, as well as his number. He doesn’t think you’ll ever use it, but he knows if he doesn’t shoot his shot he was going to hate himself for it for the rest of his life. Better to try and to know then to not

Rockstar! Suguru, who is genuinely shocked when he gets a text from an unknown number the next day, thanking him for the extra shirt and praising his bands album. 

Rockstar! Suguru, who wastes no time inviting you out to coffee with him, and is over the moon when you say yes. Even Gojos comment about “getting groupies” isn’t enough to bring him down from his high, though he does appreciate Ryomen punching Gojo on his behalf for it.

Rockstar! Suguru, who is taken aback by how quickly you connect. How similar your love of music and poetry is. He finds out your an artist and commissions you to design the next wave of band merch with out a second thought. Your art was amazing, having an excuse to keep you around was just an excellent bonus.

Rockstar! Suguru, who starts inviting you to every show he plays. He calls you his good luck charm, and says that every show is the best show as long as you're there

Rockstar! Suguru, who really invites you to every show because the post performance adrenaline always goes straight to his cock, and he'd much rather have you to sink into than some random groupie.

Rockstar! Suguru, who fucks you in the dirty bathroom at the basement show cause he physically can not wait to get you home- even when he should be helping his band members pack up

Rockstar! Suguru, who is guitarist with the fingers to show it. Who has to get you off on his hands at least once before he takes the stage. He says he plays better when he does.

Rockstar! Suguru, who's never been afraid to rut into you to the beat of his own music. Who fucked you in the back seat of his car the first time one of his songs came on the radio to celebrate

Rockstar! Suguru, who even if he won't admit you're his girlfriend won't let anyone else touch you.

Rockstar! Suguru, who makes an exception to the no touching rule for Gojo, because everyone knows the lead singer and the lead guitarist of a band share everything 💙💜

Rockstar! Suguru, who catches himself writing songs about you. He’s never written songs about anyone before. 

Rockstar! Suguru, who calls you the moment his band gets their first real record deal, before he even calls his dad. Who is realizing this band thing doesn’t just have the potential to go somewhere, but is actually going somewhere. He actually has the chance to make it in the music world, and he wants to take you with him.

Rockstar! Suguru, who is going on his first tour soon, and is making you're you're going to come with him. He can't be on the road with out his good luck charm, right?

If you guys want more of this just let me know I will write more. ask me questions about him, make requests, this is all my brain will be thinking about for the foreseeable future 💜💜💜

[sourtomatola]

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Hi! I'm Sourtomatola, you can call me Sour or Toma. I'm happily drowning in the FNAF fandom, mostly for the daycare attendant, Sun and Moon. (also am certified Eclipse SIMP)

I write fics, draw (a lot of comics and fanart), and animate. I also have a Kofi shop who's sole item is embordered DCA butt earrings (for now)

I do not do requests. Please be respectful.

Ko-fi

Youtube

Stuff I've done you might enjoy:

Fic's: My AO3

Rise of Eclipse |Shooting for the Sun |Of wood carving and Metal wiring

Buckethead Family (Kill code fic, very dark, lots of death)

Dark fae AU series: MASTERPOST

Thing on your swing

A midsummer nightmare(spinoff)

Comics:

Thing on your swing (in comic form)

The entire first chapter: Part1 | Part2

Stalker Y/N AU (not Yandere)

First episode

Master post

Arsenic and Old lace AU:

Discovering a body | Accusations

Others of mine:

Farmer and chicken au

Pro(phesy) T-shirt AU

Sun eating glitter glue

Prosthetic AU: Part1 | Part2 | Part3

Learning Tolerance and fetch (comic) (Fic Here)

Big brother Moon: first | second

Candy Factory AU (aka Taking Candy for a Fool) Masterpost

Powerwash sim

THE PLUSHIE DEBACLE (True story)

Camelot AU : Masterpost

Light switched AU | Part3? | Part4 | Part5 (darn it) | Part6 :)

Moon activation noise

Sun in a rocket

Sun vs fish

black eye fic

Spooder Moon fic

Not My AU/fic comics (credit's are in the posts):

Enthralling you enthralling me (Vampire AU) Masterpost

Anything for the truth

Sleuth Jesters:

No small favors

Take a bow

Bounty hunter eclipse saves Vigilante

MB Eclipse being a creep

Henchman Humphry (my idea in SJ world)

Eclipse dancing animation

Cosmic Chaos (My story, not my AU):

The bank altercation | The kidnapping | The New guy Part1+2 | Part 3+4 | Part 5+6 | Part 7+8 | Part9 | Part 10 (last)

Villainous Trio (some fanart, and some creative liberties):

AU comic

Fanart

doodles

Fic

fanart of fic

Solar and his Sunny

Accidentally undercover:

Idiots in love

The brothers are all idiots

Biting the hand that feeds AU:

Meeting the boys

Moon's trolling

Moons hat

Ghost in the machine AU

Nova Zoomies

Sombra dancing like a bird of prey animation

Misuta and fool dance off animation

You and I, and Sol animation

Delivery guy is misunderstood

GITM roll call

Wine and feathers (and blood and feathers):

Harpy Sun being dramatic

harpy moon dancing animation

BAF Moon ficlet

Vampire equinox:

Eclipse Pic

Fic to go with the pic

Any comic related to The Sun and Moon show:

Bloody solar animation

You don't need that much sanitizer

Sun teaching earth how to drive

Solar paint job

Blood Moon going after Sun

Ruin's tea party

Solar in jack

Sun's TRUE PURPOSE animation

Nexus be like

One time comics AU:

Kappa Sun

I WANT MOON TO BITE ME (tw blood)

Dealer's choice, chapter 27

Beings made of stardust AU (sources of light fic tho)

Staff and security stinky

One time fics I didn't post to my AO3:

The dark Sun's approach

[fragilecapric0rnn]

FRIENDS AU Part 2: The One Where Eddie Copes

[part one]

[cross-posted to ao3] || word count: 3.3k

Eddie doesn’t know how long it takes for his soul to return to his body. 

It left as soon as his eyes and brain fully registered that he was suddenly in the presence of his high school crush. Right here, in the flesh, sitting in the middle of his friends in The Jittery. He can’t help but consider the fact that he may have been the one to summon him with his pathetic cry for his ex-girlfriend just moments before the incident. 

The casual, ‘You remember Eddie? From high school?’ comment from Robin sucker-punched Eddie right in the chest. The eye contact and shy smile that followed nearly sent Eddie into some sort of stress-induced cardiac arrest. 

He hardly registers the barely coherent story that Steve is trying to tell. Eddie watches him bring a glass of water to his mouth with shaky hands and tries not to stare at his lips. 

“I’m confused.” Jonathan says as Eddie starts to regain consciousness.  

Memories of his repressed gay awakening circa-1985 come flooding back with a vengeance. Sitting in the bleachers during gym class, watching this same guy flick off his t-shirt, dripping in sweat, shit-talking his opponents, shoving them around a little too rough for a gym class game of basketball. 

He adjusts how he’s sitting in the chair, right now, in 1993. Beating away the thoughts from the Ghost of Horny Moments Past, pushing away the potential for any unexplainable chubs as he tries to sit and listen to the man himself ramble about God-knows-what, soaking wet like a pathetic little kitten in the coffee shop. 

He’s going to throw up. 

Or pass out. 

Possibly both.

Thankfully, everyone’s attention is on the runaway bride, too distracted to notice that he’s in crisis. 

“It makes perfect sense to me.” Argyle shrugs, handing Steve a giant ceramic cup. 

“Just run it by us one more time.” 

Steve takes a comically large sip from his mug, holds the coffee in his cheeks, making them puff out and Eddie is convinced that this is some sort of punishment for all of his mistakes. 

“You know, they always told me that cold feet are normal. That’s what they all say about  getting married, that you get cold feet. Well, I realized when I woke up this morning, after having a very vivid and intense dream about Harrison Ford, that maybe my feet were never really that warm to begin with, ya know?” 

Everyone is nodding, as if they do know. Nancy has her eyebrows knitted together, Robin looks a bit too amused, Jonathan looks confused, and Argyle is casually dipping his tea bag into his mug, like this is a normal thing unfolding in front of them.

“Look, I was in a frat in college. I am very comfortable with my sexuality or whatever and I didn’t let the dream sway any decision making at that moment.”

Eddie resists the urge to ask him what exactly this sexuality is. 

“So it wasn’t Harrison…” Nancy presses, her hand motioning as if to say, 'Please continue this batshit story.'

“It wasn’t him,” He takes a sip from his mug, the rest of the group inches closer. “It happened about 10 minutes later, when Lola was knocking on my door, standing there in tears.”

“Fuck,” Robin drags out the word, Jonathan lets out a low whistle.

“Turns out, she also had lukewarm feet throughout most of our relationship. She wanted to call it off. And that’s when I knew we had to. Because any normal fiance would’ve freaked the fuck out, right? Would’ve started begging or pleading or yelling or something! But I had nothing. Nothing but relief.” 

The collective air in the room deflates. 

“So, we devised a plan. We’d both get ready, business as usual. And I’d be the one to sneak out of the bathroom window in the groom’s suite. Before we realized it was on the second story of the hotel.” 

He shrugs, as Eddie studies his attire a little closer, seeing he does have twigs and a smattering of leaves on his now-discarded jacket.

“Steve, I know you’re vulnerable and whatever,” Robin says, pausing when Nancy smacks her arm. “But, why here? Why us?” Motioning between her and Nancy.

He chuckles, eyes now looking down into his cup. Eddie can't help but stare at this very odd man sitting in front of him.

“I don’t know. I guess it was mostly because I knew you lived in the city. But there’s another part of me that knew you’d understand. You were one of the only people I’ve ever met that tried understanding me for me. Not what you wanted me to be.” 

And that's, wow. Why on Earth would he say something like that? Now Eddie has to cope with the fact that not only is this dude still hot, he sounds sweet as hell. 

“C’mon, let’s get you up to the apartment.” 

He can’t cope. 

- 

“Mom, you’re gonna need to stop crying or hand the phone back to dad.” Steve pleads. He's been on the phone for about an hour at this point, everyone else scattered around Nancy's apartment, listening.

Eddie, most of the shock worn off by now, is sitting at Nancy’s kitchen table, eating a pie straight from the tin and unable to tear his eyes away from the train wreck that is Steve Harrington, still in his damp clothes, but stripped down to an undershirt and the tux pants and no shoes or socks.

Watches him keep tugging hard at his hair every time a muffled yell comes out of the phone, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. 

No wonder this guy ran away. 

Robin sits backwards on the chair next to Eddie’s as Steve stumbles out of the window onto the terrace, where the rain has somewhat let up.  

“Do you think he’s gay?” He asks as soon as Steve is fully outside. 

“Definitely not straight." Robin plucks the fork from Eddie's hand.

Jonathan shrugs, sighing as he finally sets the change of clothes down on the table and takes a seat.. He has been holding a change of clothes from his apartment in his hands for at least a half hour, waiting for Steve to get off the phone with his parents. 

"I mean, who talks about Harrison Ford in the same breaths as explaining why you ran away from your wedding?” He says, stealing the fork from Robin. 

“I never think about Harrison Ford unless I’m watching him on tv. And even then I barely think about him.” 

“Does that answer your question?” 

Before Eddie can say, not really, his thoughts are interrupted by a commotion coming from the other side of the room where the bedroom doors are closed.

Nancy comes out of the spare room, curly hair frizzier than it had been on the way up the stairs from the coffee shop, rubbing her temples and pulling on her face as she joins the group in the living room. 

“Are they still arguing?” She asks, craning her neck to get a better look at him out on the terrace. He’s still gesturing wildly, doing a lot more yelling. 

“I think so?” Robin turns her head like a confused dog, watching him gesture wildly with his free hand. 

“One minute he’s telling his dad that he doesn’t want to live like him and then it sounds like his mom is crying, I think he talked to his old nanny at one point?” 

“His parents sound like a mess.” Eddie says, earning three different versions of a 'no-duh' look from his friends.

“Have you seen the apple? What kinda tree do you think it fell from?” Jonathan says, passing the fork back to Eddie, which is then snatched away by Nancy. She takes the pie tin from them, putting it back in the fridge. 

They can hear the window opening and Steve falling back inside, silent cursing to himself. 

“No dad, you listen!” All their heads snap in the direction of Steve. Once again, soaking wet. His face is red, his already big hair standing up in every direction, and an insane look on his eyes.

Are his pupils dilated?

“Fine! I don’t care, I don’t care anymore! Cut me off! I don’t care! You know what,” Steve struggles to get his wallet out of his pocket, pauses and just throws the wallet across the room. Muffled yelling comes from the phone. “I'm snapping my credit cards right fucking now!" 

"I’ll stay here, with Nancy and Robin and you can take that inheritance and shove it up your ass!” Steve hangs up the phone and throws it onto the loveseat next to him. 

No one moves. No one speaks. The air is still, but only for a moment.

“I think this is where the sitcom audience would clap.” Eddie forgot Argyle has been laying down on the couch this entire time. Steve’s red face suddenly looks sickly pale. 

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

Jonathan and Nancy hop up from their spots, Robin hands him a brown paper bag, and they guide him to the couch. Eddie watches this all unfold, lingering in the background. Not one for comfort, especially being the king of mommy and daddy issues, without the complicated mess of being a trust fund baby, he has nothing helpful to add. 

“It’s gonna be okay, just try taking deep breaths.” 

Steve nods, the paper bag inflating and deflating slower, but still rather fast. 

“Would it help if I sang a song?” 

The bag inflates and deflates even slower, everyone just sort of stares at Argyle. 

“Don’t worry, about a thing, because every little thing, is gonna be alright.” Steve slowly brings the paper bag down, rests his hand on Argyle’s forearm.  

“I think I’m okay now, thank you.” He visibly winces at the lackluster Bob Marley

“Don’t mention it, mon.” 

For some godforsaken reason, Steve looks right at Eddie as they make the same face, an eyebrow hiked up to their hairlines, the physical embodiment of a scoff without actually scoffing. All while making eye contact with each other. 

Eddie looks away quickly, jumping out of the chair so fast that it scrapes against the floor, startling everyone in the room. 

“What am I gonna do?” He sounds panicked. 

“We’re gonna help you figure it out,” Jonathan says, sat on the coffee table across from him. 

“You can stay here with me, Jonathan and Robin live across the hall, it’ll be fun.” Nancy is patting his arm. 

“But what about money? I have none of that!” 

“There are these things called jobs,” Eddie says, Nancy snaps her head around and damn-near snarls at him. Steve’s brown paper bag is back to inflating and deflating. 

The phone rings, saving Eddie from immediate doom via-Nancy Wheeler. 

Nancy looks at the time and is now the one to get up from her seat next to Steve like something bit her on the ass.

“Shit! Shit shit shit!”

“What's with all the shit, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, Nancy flipping him off as the phone continues to ring in her hand.

“I forgot to call Frank and cancel.”

“Who’s Frank?” 

“My date,” she says, immediately sending Eddie a scrunched up face and mouthing sorry.  

“Wait wait wait, Frank? As in, Frank the Creepy Paper Salesman?” Robin hops over the backside of the couch, falling into Nancy. The phone stops ringing. Nancy takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and looking up at the ceiling.

Creepy was a generous assessment of the piece of work that is Frank. Asking Nancy on dates ever since she started working at The Times, stopping by the office ad nauseam, so much so, he has become a regular fixture in the lore surrounding Nancy's office.

“Yes, that Frank.” 

“Is the dating well running that dry Nance? So dry you finally said yes to Frank the creepy paper salesman?” 

“Listen, he caught me in a momentary lapse of judgment.”

“Were you conscious during this lapse?” 

"Fully, I just. It's been a while since I'd been on a date and my mom would not stop pestering me about it on the phone literal minutes, seconds even, before Frank showed up to talk to my boss. So, when he did his usual creep routine of asking me out, I said yes."

“Was he as surprised as we are?” Eddie asks, Nancy nods, wincing. 

"And are you regretting the yes?"

"Fully!" 

The phone is ringing again. 

“Hello,” she answers, sounding like she has a congested nose. “Hi Frank, yeah, I’m not feeling that well. Yeah, maybe we can postpone. I’ll call you, yeah.” 

“I’m sorry Nancy, I know this was kinda my fault.” Steve’s voice continues to be muffled by the bag. 

“I can’t believe you thought I’d be upset about you going out with Frank the Creep.” Eddie sits back down in the kitchen chair. Is he really that fragile? Can his friends really not share their downfalls with him like they used to? 

“I don’t know! You freaked when Robin went on a date with Tam-” 

“Aht! Aht!” Robin waves her hands in the air, almost elbowing Steve. “We are not talking about my dating life. I am striking this down immediately!” 

“Point still stands, then. You’re still very upset about Michelle.” And the sound of her name feels like a cartoon anvil dropping inside of his stomach, dropping and dropping. 

“We are not gonna talk about Michelle right now.” He deadpans. 

“Who’s Michelle?” Steve asks, paper bag back in front of his face, inflating and deflating as he speaks.  All of the air has been kicked out of Eddie’s lungs. 

“Eddie’s ex,” Argyle whispers loudly, with no effort made to keep Eddie from hearing him. 

“We are not talking about Michelle right now!” Eddie yells. Everyone goes quiet. 

“Right now we are going to focus on getting Steve to stop breathing into a paper fucking bag!” 

To which they all look over at Steve, who is staring at everyone with wide eyes and the bag no longer dramatically inflating and deflating, just held to his mouth as he stares around the room. 

“I’m actually starting to feel a little better.” He says, into the bag. Inflating and deflating. 

-

-

-

Across the hall, Eddie has his feet kicked up on Jonathan and Robin’s couch, hands linked and resting on his stomach. His head in Robin’s lap and his feet on Jonthan’s lap, staring up at the ceiling where he can see a spaghetti stain splattered across the asbestos pattern. 

Jeopardy is playing in the background but none of them are paying attention. Argyle is sat on the floor, head close to Eddie’s as they all pass around a joint. 

“So, you let her take the TV, the bedroom set, and the living room set. What do you even have left at your place?” 

“Pots and pans?” 

“Dude,” Argyle blows a ring of smoke in the air. “That is so not cool.” He passes Eddie the joint.

“I felt bad. It’s my fault we’re in this situation.” 

“There are no faults, and yet you’re still punishing yourself.” Jonathan says, eyes glued to the TV, a familiar spacey look on his face. 

Argyle checks his watch and gets up from the floor, patting around his pockets. 

“Looks like it’s time for me to head out, Aunt Miriam is making midnight spaghetti and I wanna get there before her boyfriend eats all the garlic bread.” 

“Midnight spaghetti?” and “Your great aunt has a boyfriend?” are asked by Eddie and Robin respectively at the same time. 

“See ya man,” Jonathan yells as the door shuts behind him. 

Robin knocks on Eddie’s head lightly before pushing him off of her, stretching and yawning as she stands. 

“I’m gonna go raid Nance’s for some more beers,” He swings he feet off of Jonathan’s lap and stretches. 

“I’ll get your pillow and blankey situated,” Robin says. Eddie half turns to send her a salute before shutting the door, opening the one across the hall almost in one fell swoop. 

He doesn’t expect to see Steve still up, sitting at the same kitchen chair he spent most of the afternoon and evening in. Most of the color returned to face, a glass of wine and an open bottle on the table. 

“Hey,” He says, curious and careful

“Hi.” Steve smiles warmly at him, gesturing the bottle at him, Eddie takes it as an invitation. 

“You alright?” He grabs a wine glass from Nancy’s hanging glass rack. 

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.” 

“Why? A lot on your mind?” Eddie takes the seat across form him. 

“You’re funny,” Steve fills Eddie’s glass. “I remember you being kinda funny in high school.” To that, Eddie fakes a dagger to the heart, startling Steve a bit, who is looking at Eddie with the same type of amusement that everyone looked at him with a few hours ago. 

“If seventeen-year-old-me heard you say that you remembered me at all from high school, there’d be an Eddie shaped hole in that door.” Eddie takes a swig from his wine, thanking whoever is in charge of the universe that it's red wine, giving him an explanation for the blush already blooming on his face. Well, a better explanation than a cute guy laughing at his silly jokes. 

“Of course I remember you, how could I forget all those lunchtime sermons about how cool and different you were and how lame and boring the rest of us were.” Steve says, not hiding how much it he seems to enjoy that the little walk down memory lane has started to make Eddie visibly cringe.

“Don’t remind me of that,” Eddie groans into his glass. 

“You seem a lot softer now.” 

Eddie drags his eyes up from where they were studying the knick in the the wood on the table, meeting Steve’s gaze. 

“You caught me at a soft time in my life, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve leans back in his chair, brings his own glass to his lips, pausing to take a sip. “Your ex.” 

“Yep, my ex.” 

“Did she just, totally break your heart?” He asks, throwing Eddie off guard a bit. He didn't expect Steve to be so forward with his nosiness. Kinda respects it. 

“No, it was more like. I broke my own heart.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

He looks at Steve. Really looks at him, and can almost see the kindness actually spilling out of those pretty brown eyes, how he came to Robin and Nancy specifically to help him out, knowing that they would. 

“It means, I realized that she’s not really my type after all. After eight years together, I finally realized that I am g-” he clears his throat. 

“That I’m gay. No matter how much I love her, no amount is going to change the fact that I wasted both of our time.” 

Eddie can’t bear to look up at Steve, but feels his eyes on him. 

The glug glug sound of wine pouring out of the bottle breaks the silence, Eddie finally looks up. 

“You need it more than I do,” Steve says, taking a swig from the bottle, tipping it over the table to show that it’s now empty. 

This makes Eddie laugh. A full belly laugh that seems to be contagious, as Steve’s now laughing, a snort escaping his nose and mouth, making the two laugh even harder. 

“You guys, seriously?” Nancy comes out of her room, robe on and rollers in her hair. “Some of us have to work in the morning!” 

“Sorry Nance, we’ll keep it down.” 

“Sorry.” 

She looks at them, her face softens with look of mild bewilderment. Stands there for a few seconds longer than she otherwise would’ve, before wordlessly going back into her bedroom. 

“That reminds me, I need to get one of those.” Steve says as her door clicks shut. 

“One of what?” 

“A job, or something.” 

“I can put a good word in for you at a few places.” He says, taking a big gulp from the very full wine glass. 

“Thanks, Eddie.” 

He can’t help but think maybe, just maybe, he will be able to cope with Steve being around. 

[revlischarm]

Wouldn’t call this one of my most exciting edits for the Noodle Shop Ghost AU, but it’s what I was able to finish recently so it’s what y’all are getting since I’m impatient to share more details and have to divulge them NOW

More LMK Morro info under the cut

• Red Son’s nicknames for Morro include “Accursed witch” and “dead meat” (the witch one is due to Morro having spooky vibes and carrying around a broom)

-Deadass? The first time Red called Morro a witch, Morro did a full 180° and said “did you just call me a bitch?” (Credit to @breathlessmorro for this idea!)

•Morro’s still got some anger issues they’re working out

•Princess Iron Fan shows up with her wind and he’s like “bro I am unimpressed I could do that when I was like, ten”

-The teleporting à la wind gets his attention, tho, since he obviously can’t do that and is immediately jealous

•Morro was a big fan of JTTW Monkey King after reading the story, but then he meets Wukong irl and is just like “Oh. This is it?? That’s…disappointing.”

Wukong: “I haven’t even interacted with you yet and you already dislike me, what the hell.”

-Like Morro and Wukong definitely have some similar interests and hobbies, such as martial arts, protective over MK, a distain for rules…but Morro is still twitchy around him.

-Morro owns a JTTW shirt because he still thinks that the story slaps tho

•Morro thinks the Mayor has cool vibes upon first meeting

-Like, Morro respects how unhinged and creepy he is

•Morro does have a broom for a weapon I’ve decided! It’s comical and it works. He gets a new weapon during Season 3, tho!

-He absolutely 100% knows how to use a broom as a staff because he’s used a staff before. In Season 5 when he possessed Lloyd and was trying to steal Wu’s staff, in the tea shop fight he was kicking ass with it. He’s very proficient with a staff and you can fight me on that.

•Morro forgets that he’s mortal again and ends up walking into a lot of solid objects

•Morro strives for success and likes to be in the spotlight still honestly, he can’t help it.

-The man absolutely despises failing in any way; he doesn’t want to be seen as a disappointment.

-At least he’s ambitious!

•Morro’s working on his inability to let things go, and it’s going. Okay. Ish.

-He struggles so, so much with letting go of a grudge, he never forgets nor forgives but he’s trying to

-It’s part of his goal towards being a better person/not being evil lmao

-“I probably shouldn’t hold onto so much hate for what happened before, huh…well maybe I’ll hold onto a few things.”

•MK sometimes does morning exercises with Morro (stretches and stuff), so for the episode “Duplicination” he makes another clone to do said activities with Morro

-How would that go wrong? Contortionist clone is how. Motherfucker stretches himself into a creepy pretzel

-He crawls up a wall like a spider and gives MK nightmares

-“NOOOO!! MY WORST FEAR IS MANIFESTING!”

-He’s super flexible and very hard to catch; good at dodging!

•Morro definitely sees a lot of Lloyd in MK, but it’s not like he can go back to Ninjago rn (he doesn’t know how), and even then! Lloyd and he are on horrible terms. So Morro is inadvertently projecting onto MK to some extent the apology and like…just feeling guilty and almost responsible in a way

-They’re not doing it intentionally, they really aren’t

-MK just gives them Lloyd vibes that make Morro feel guilty

-Took one look at MK and went: “Is anyone gonna big brother that guy?” And didn’t wait for an answer (credit: @breathlessmonkie )

•Morro being referred to ironically as the “family pet” by Tang and the gang is a reoccurring gag in Season 1. It’s for comedy purposes.

-Pigsy: “This is my husband, Tang, our son, MK, and the family pet, Morro.”

MK: “He’s a rescue!”

-Morro just goes with it

•Morro has residual traits from being a former ghost and you can fight me on that

-For example, his teeth are just slightly more sharp than the average person’s. It’s barely even noticeable but it’s there.

-Morro’s eyes have eyeshine (tapetum lucidum?), basically if it’s dim lighting and you direct some light at him, his eyes seem to glow in the dark. That thing that some animals have, you know? Deer.

-On that note, Morro can see in the dark slightly better than the average person.

-There’s more stuff but I’ll go over it later

•Morro loves flying kites!!! He adores those super complex ones and is saving up money to buy one

•MK called Morro “responsible” one time/refers to him as his “responsible friend”, and Morro ends up having a whole new episode dedicated to him having a crisis over that

-Think a midlife crisis except more aggressive and despairing. Morro’s trying to find an outlet for aggression! He’s adamant he maintain his bad boy persona, and MK’s comment shook him

-Like, his whole thing was defying destiny, making his own path in life, beating the odds and being stubborn…and yet here MK is, saying that’s he’s responsible. It goes against what he thinks of himself and just sets him off. Man literally skips work (which he never does) and gets everyone worried about him.

-He’s just acting out to try and prove that he’s not some domesticated ex-villain, but it’s also about him having difficulty adjusting to this new norm

-Before, Morro was doomed to a cursed eternity for the longest time. He was pent up and bitter and focused on a whole lot of negative stuff, and now he’s waking up and going to work and living life like none of that happened. It’s jarring, and he’s realizing that it’s so far from how he once was.

-He’s thinking, “That angry person I used to be was me, that’s who I was. What changed?” When really he’d just been so bitter and upset for so, so long that that’s all he can think of himself as being—that’s who he was, that’s who Morro was. It’s just he wasn’t actively thinking about it or anything until MK prompted it. He’s changed, and he knows that, but now he’s like…he’s moreso conscious of it, like actually realizing it’s not just that he gave up being so spiteful and tried to redeem himself—he’s forgotten what he was like before he was a vengeful spirit.

-That was what defined them for so long. And now who are they?

-The other part of it is that he doesn’t want to feel like he’s conforming, doesn’t want to be responsible, that it feels like he’s just following along to fate’s rules. And he abhors that.

-Uhhhhhh anyways tl:dr Morro has an episode all his own about self-discovery and also demolishes some stuff along the way.

-OH ONE MORE THING Morro divulges some more about his past to MK and Mei in this episode and also I don’t have a title for the episode yet so suggestions/help with that is greatly appreciated

•Back to our regularly scheduled program

•Morro. Does not trust Wukong very much.

-Like, Morro already has past trauma with Wu, given how Wu told Morro he could be the Green Ninja and fed him a bunch of hopeful nonsense and all that. Morro knows that MK’s been told he has some big destiny and power and whatever by this mentor-figure.

-Also. The Golden Weapons’ parallels with Monkey King’s staff?? Fun stuff. The staff “chose” MK and all that jazz.

-Morro doesn’t trust him from the start, although it’s less of Morro being perceptive enough to pick up on Wukong’s crap and instead that his paranoia ended up being right

-Morro would definitely go “At this point I can’t tell if you or Wu are worse, and that’s fucking saying something.”

-There’s one instance in which Morro straight up punches Wukong square in the face. I’m keeping that scene to myself for now because I gotta have some secrets, you know? Heheh

•Mei’s green power startles Morro every now and then

-Like there’s a flash of glowing green in their peripheral and they jolt. Literally they don’t even do it on purpose, it’s a knee jerk response to glowing green powers.

•Morro drinks soy sauce. He’ll get a little dish and sip from it. Yes, I based this off of myself.

•Macaque is Morro’s dad now btw I should probably mention that /hj

•During the episode “Macaque”, Morro shows up when MK does and actually manages to like. Demonstrate a decently strong attack at Macaque’s shadow kaiju thing. Wind does wonders against smoke monsters (I think Mac called it that??)

-Anyways Macaque quickly takes an interest in Morro! Morro tags along with MK for the training stuff because they’re not letting the kid get taken to some secondary location

-…unless they goes too, lmao

-Plus Macaque doesn’t actually mind him coming along, Morro’s wind powers peaked his interest

•Oh also Morro @ Macaque: “You know back where I’m from, we have an elemental Master of Shadow—I bet they could kick your ass, lol”

Macaque:

Macaque: “a fucking what”

•Also Morro? Actually really vibes with Macaque’s teachings?? Like he definitely reminds MK to take breaks and take it easy every once in a while, but for the most part Morro is like “fuck yeah? This guy is straightforward and makes a good point. Although strategy is important to take into account first and foremost it also helps to actually have a sense of direction here”

-So Morro thinks that Macaque’s got superior skills as a teacher to MK here

-Up until the whole betrayal thing haha

•Macaque keeps a close eye on Morro throughout the episodes following all of this actually!

-Like Macaque checks in on him throughout Season 2 and so they cross paths again fairly quickly

-Morro is very apprehensive at first but begrudgingly understands that it isn’t anything personal against MK, what Mac did—Morro’s literally been in that kind of situation before, sort of. “Nothing personal, just doing this to achieve my goals, you just happen to be involved in this and got hurt.”

-Like Morro gets it. You do evil and fucked up shit because it’s fun at the time and you wanna get back at someone who hurt you

•He’s still very protective of MK but he genuinely understands where Mac is coming from when he pulled that stunt

•They both absolutely open up to each other about their respective deaths eventually, though it takes time

•Macaque shows Morro some cool fighting stuff! They spar together a lot

-Morro finds himself looking forward to those sessions (he can get an actual challenge lmao) and so does Macaque! Mac hasn’t had a sparring buddy in. Well. You know ;)

•Morro 100% picks up on the ex vibes Macaque and Wukong have

•But anyways Morro and Macaque have a great time training and sparring together! Neither of them are afraid to get aggressive, but not because they’re angry—it’s because they know the other one can take it!

•They just overall bond offscreen (and maybe onscreen too? Do I need to make another new episode dedicated to this??) during Season 2/end of Season 1

•Macaque and Morro have a fun dynamic that I’ll expound more upon in Season 3 stuff, but I’m saving anything s3 for a different post because spoilers

•I will divulge that LBD has some difficulty handling Morro for reasons that are ghost-related and that Morro wants to kick her ass

-Well, related to the fact that Morro used to be a ghost and I have a very specific headcanon about his new physical body in that regard

•Anyways

•The Macaque thing is pure self-indulgence on my end because he’s one of my favorite characters

•If it feels forced in, it’s because it probably is, but serotonin go brrrrr in my head and that overrules all logic

•I want to draw what Morro’s intro screen would look like for the opening but I don’t have the skill (can’t draw complex backgrounds well at ALL) rip

-Concept for seasons 1 + 2 would have him standing in the front with a clear shot like the other characters do, arms are crossed or he’s leaning on his broom, and in the background we see a cool dynamic shot of him flying one of those neat Chinese kites. Color scheme is mostly greens and grays? I’m not sure.

-My idea for the Season 3 intro I’m reserving for now

•Morro doesn’t know how to drive I should mention. Man needs to learn to, lol

•Mei and MK teach him lingo and Morro honestly picks it up shockingly fast.

-He can understand some things about it? But others he’s at a total loss for.

-For example Morro doesn’t understand surreal memes or deep-fried stuff, he just doesn’t get what’s funny about them

•Morro knows a lot of occult/spiritual info!! He’s your man if you’ve got some form of spooky trouble ailing you

-So for spooky or supernatural happenings, Morro can give some decent advice.

•Don’t get him wet, he despises water.

•Also he’s still absolutely unhinged. Redemption doesn’t mean he lost any of his violent tendencies, so that’s a lot of manic fun.

-The vibe of what he’ll be saying is all good stuff, but the way he says it sounds like he’s delivering a villain speech

-Oh and don’t get me started on his dramatics either because this man is the smuggest and most theatric bastard ever and I love him for it

-A sore loser and a sore winner.

-So a ton of similarities to Red Son’s behavior, just…toned down a bit more and he’s not trying to be a villain. That’s just how he is. He slips back into villain mode sometimes because he was a villain, and he’s also just kinda like that.

-Morro’s villain tendencies/vibes are always more…creepy? Dark? Than Red Son’s are. Macabre, I’d say. He could actually scare you if he wanted to? It’s hard to describe.

-To sum it up: trying to do good things, but his attitude about it is so diabolical and dramatic. Aaaaannnnd his methods aren’t entirely moral all the time, either. He’s trying, okay??

•Although on that note, Morro is still a master at manipulation when it comes to it. He’s very adept at twisting his words around and can occasionally fall back on old habits without meaning to

-Fucking watch out for him when he’s intentionally being manipulative though, you don’t wanna mess with that

•Morro 100% attends Mac’s shadow plays, they really enjoy them and are the most enthusiastic person in the stands

-Macaque: The hero and the warrior were like the sun and the moon—

Morro: FUCK YEAH LET’S GOOOOOO

Macaque, confused and embarrassed: Uh, anyways.

•Morro would either be very good or very bad at fighting Red Son; wind can either fuel fire or snuff it out. Depends on the oxygen and stuff.

•Anything involving flying/air/heights? Morro is adept at that. Man would kill for one of Wukong’s clouds

•Trans he/they Morro rights

•This post is long enough so I’ll end it here

[stars-burn]

DP x DC Prompt 2

I adore the Danny is actually Danyal al Ghul fics as much as anyone, but we’re actually missing out on something fascinating: Danny is Respawn au.

Putting the rest below the cut because Respawn’s story is rather gore-y, and I don’t want to surprise anyone in the prompt tags. but tl;dr: Respawn is a “cloned” irish twin of Damian’s, the child of Slade Wilson and Talia al Ghul.

A genetically engineered child of Talia al Ghul and Deathstroke (I don’t know why DC calls this a clone. I disagree, there are two parents. He’s just a test tube baby.), engineered by Ra’s and used as a guinea pig and an organ donor for Damian whenever Damian needed something. Respawn has no proper name but chewed his arm off to escape Ra’s al Ghul. In the comics, he’d heard the name Deathstroke and so sought him out, adopting a similar costume to try and get his father’s attention. What if he had no idea who his father was? And just wanted to escape as far away as he could, and thus ended up getting taken in by the Fentons (Jazz in particular ofc) while they were on some ghost hunting research trip. Respawn getting a name and he’s also got friends now, who don’t mind how weird he is, and Dash Baxter thinks he’s so tough but he means absolutely nothing to him so Respawn just ignores it. Basically Respawn as Danny is a feral as Damian in his own ways. With a bonus of: if we go with lazarus pools + ectoplasm, getting therapy by attacking pit demons to protect others (and himself because hello~ PTSD). It’s also a reason why he isn’t particularly bothered by Maddie and Jack talking about vivisecting Phantom. He’s been there and done that with his ‘grandfather’ and got the t-shirt. He’d like to think his adoptive parents are better, but it won’t break him if they aren’t. The only thing that does irritate him is hearing about Damian Wayne’s exploits and the whole stupid family. Bonus points if his existence warns Tim that he should be on the lookout for surprise kids as well, given Ra’s al Ghul took his spleen. Triple bonus points if hearing about that is the only reason Danny-as-Respawn bothers to visit Gotham. Because no way should someone else go through what he did.