#we are approaching buddie canon at warp speed

[deluweil]

Eddie snuck Christopher into Buck's room so he could talk to him, and now he takes him to Shannon's grave so he can talk to her.

I am not okay! 🥺😭❤️

[dr-gloom]

The Makings of Greatness: Chapter 15

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairing: platonic logince, platonic moxiety, platonic anxeit, familial ThVi

Tags/Warnings (for this chapter): explosions, threat of death, possible last goodbye, suspense, slight sympathetic deceit

Ko-fi

AO3

Masterlist

Prologue  Ch 1  Ch 2  Ch 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6  Ch 7  Ch 8  Ch 9  Ch 10  Ch 11  Ch 12  Ch 13 Ch 14  Ch 15  Ch 16  Ch 17

“You know what’s weird?” Patton babbles as he follows Virgil across the sea of treasure to the half-buried sip. “It just feels so… frustrating! And I don’t know why,” Virgil climbs on board and hauls Patton onto the ship. “But there’s something that’s been… nagging at the back of my mind…” Patton falls over with a shout once something catches his eye, and Virgil follows his line of sight to see what freaked the robot out so much.

“…Captain Flint?”

“In the flesh!” Patton speaks almost reverently. A light beam shoots into a pipe nearby, illuminating the pirate’s silhouette, exposing the skeleton dressed in a captain’s uniform. “Well… Sort of!” Patton laughs lightly, standing up and dusting off his legs. “Except for, y’know, skin. And organs. And anything that resembles flesh. Y’know… It seems so…”

Virgil tunes out Patton’s chatter as he approaches the skeleton sitting up in his chair. Seeing the pirate’s skull with all his sharp teeth bared, his pointed, bony fingers, the facial structure that was practically built to snarl threateningly, Virgil feels almost like he’s meeting a celebrity after they’ve fallen out of the limelight. Virgil looks over his whole body closely – the man’s clothes are in surprisingly good condition – and notices that one bony, clawed hand is curled around something. With a slight sense of trepidation speeding up his heart, Virgil reaches forward slowly and wraps his fingers around the Something in Flint’s hand and pulls. For a moment, nothing happens, and Virgil almost swears. Instead he tries again, harder, his boot propped on the chair to give him leverage. Flint’s hand breaks, releasing the Something and sending Virgil tumbling backwards.

“Oh, the mind is a terrible thing to lose!” Patton laments, sitting back on a pile of treasure. Virgil looks over the Something in his hand, taking in its round shape and how one end of it seems to be bent, like it’s the edge of something. An idea sparks in his mind and he looks at Patton. More specifically, the back of Patton’s head where the wires stick out. He looks back at the Something in his hand and notices how the interior side seems to be some kind of computer tech. And the thing is the same color as Patton, so….

“Pat, hold still, okay?” Virgil sits up and reaches out to steady Patton’s head, making sure the robot is facing away from him.

“Wha- oh! Virge, your hands are very, very cold! I-“ His speech warps as Virgil raises the Something to Patton’s head and the wires in his head connect themselves to the strange chip, then pull the Something into place against Patton’s head.

Virgil just found Patton’s mind.

“Woah!” Patton turns to look at Virgil, his voice still distorted. His eyes become slightly distorted as well before settling back to normal, only now they’re blue instead of bright green. He looks up at Virgil and smiles. “Hey there! You know, I was just thinking… thinking! Oh! My memories are back! This is great!” He leaps at Virgil, pulling the human into a hug. “Oh thank you thank you thank you! I remember everything! Right up until Flint pulled my memory circuit so I couldn’t tell anyone about his booby-trap!” Virgil’s eyes widen and he’s just about to ask Patton what he means when something explodes and rumbles overhead. “Speaking of which…”

The structures holding the blasters along the ceiling start exploding. “Flint didn’t want anyone to steal his treasure, so he rigged the whole planet to blow!” Patton shouts in a rush. The first blaster comes loose from the ceiling and collides with the mini planet of treasure, breaking through and sinking in, splitting the treasure planet like cracked ice. With the destruction started, some of the remaining blasters fire light canon beams off-course, firing at and melting the treasure. Nearby crew rush to escape as a beam quickly grows nearer. Virgil watches in silent horror, the cacophony of gold being sent flying, metal crashing into metal, and the screams of the crew all driving up his anxiety even more. His heart hammers in his chest and his brain screams at him to run, make a break for it, but his feet refuse to cooperate.

Patton grabs Virgil’s arm and shakes him. “Run, Virge! Run for your life!”

Virgil looks around before running over to the control panel of the ship and scooting himself under it. “You go back and help the captain and Logan. If I’m not there in five minutes… Leave without me.” Virgil starts working to rewire the ship.

“I’m not leaving without my buddy!” Patton cries, grabbing Virgil’s feet and pulling him out from under the panel. Virgil glares up at him from the floor, holding two sparking wires just inches from each other. “Unless… He looks at me like that. Bye, Virge!” Patton lets go of Virgil’s feet, letting them fall to the floor and running off.

The blasts continue, carving an endless hole through the treasure planet that the treasure starts to fall into. Declan watches the carnage and his fleeing crew with wide, panicked eyes. This was everything he’s worked for. His whole life has led up to this, and now the treasure is being taken from him? “No! He cries out frantically, falling to his knees and clawing at the treasure in a futile effort to keep it from being lost. Two of his crewmen on the other side of the abyss try to push a chest further from said abyss and slip, falling into it with terrified screams. The panicked shouting of the rest of his crew catches his attention and he watches as they race for the exit. He scowls. “Get back here you useless imps!”

They don’t turn to look at him, disappearing through the gateway.

Declan looks around at the rapidly disappearing treasure, using his cyborg eye to track and scan movement of living things. His eye catches something further down the way and zooms in, locking on Virgil who’s frantically rewiring and firing a ship with tons of treasure. He grins.

On the surface of Treasure Planet, Logan and Captain Roman still sit tied up in the dinghy the pirates have been using. A slight rumbling is the only indicator that something is going on, making Roman look around with curious apprehension. When it stops, he relaxes.

“All my life,” Logan’s voice catches Roman’s attention and he turns his head to listen, the two men tied up back-to-back. “I’ve dreamt of an adventure like this. Something that would turn Logan Abbott into a household name.” He sighs, his eyes gazing unseeing at the wood of the dinghy. “I’m… Sorry, that I was so useless on this expedition.”

Roman huffs lightly, forcing a small grin into his tone. “Don’t be stupid, you have been helpful. Truly.”

“I just feel so… weak.” Logan buries his head in his hands. He seems to realize his actions a second later as he sits up, looking at the rope tied loosely around one wrist with the other completely free. “With… particularly slim wrists, it would seem.” He grins, shoving his hands behind his back once again. Roman looks over his shoulder at the doctor with furrowed eyebrows. “Excuse me!” Logan calls to the large punkish alien that’s been left to keep watch. The alien grunts and turns around, glaring at the two men. “I have an inquiry. Is your body simply too rotund for your tiny, tiny head, or is it that your head is too small for your massive body?” Roman shoots him a look as if to say, ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?!’. The pirate stomps over to them and grabs the front of Logan’s shirt, lifting him off of the dinghy.

“I’ll pummel you good!” He snarls.

Logan grins. “Oh, I am sure you will. Before you do, however, I have one last question.” He pulls out the pirate’s solar gun and points it right at his belly, turning the safety off. “Is this yours?”

Virgil gets the thruster ignited just in time; with nearly every speck of treasure gone and the base split into dozens of pieces, there’s virtually no purchase left for the ship to rest on. The temperature rises as the treasure is melted by the magma down below, caused from the light canons. Virgil rolls his shoulders uncomfortably, his clothes starting to stick to his damp skin. A slight breeze caused by steering the ship rustles Virgil’s hair, a grin on his face and the butterfly heartbeat of anticipation humming in his veins. Morph flits to Virgil’s side, having spent most of this fiasco hidden in his pants pocket. “We are so out of here!” Virgil cries out happily and Morph chitters in response.

“Ah, Virg-o! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Declan hops down from the ledge, letting go of the rope he’d been using to stand steady. Virgil spins around, his smile melting into a glare the instant he heard Declan’s voice. Declan saunters over to Virgil, passing the piles and piles of treasure; the only treasure left, now. Virgil looks around, grabbing for the nearest sword and pointing it right at Declan, making the cyborg freeze.

“Get away from me!” He snarls, hoping Declan won’t notice the slight tremor in his grip. Declan’s warm grin morphs into a low scowl, his eyes narrowed at the smaller human.

“I like you, boy, but I’ve come too far to let you stand between me and my treasure.” He takes a step forward and Virgil takes a step back. He repeats this until Virgil’s back is pressed up against the helm. Virgil looks like a lost, scared little boy, trying to defend himself against a monster. And that’s just what he is, right? He’s thousands of miles from home, no friends or family nearby to speak of, completely out of his depth trying to deal with murderous pirates. Declan should find him pathetic. Virgil is pathetic. Declan takes a couple steps closer, noticing how Virgil’s breath is picking up, his heart rate rising, his pupils dilating. He needs to deal with this before he has another one of his… moments of weakness.

A solar blast strikes the left side of the ship, throwing it off balance and sending the two men stumbling. It collides with a small slice of the planet’s inner mechanism – practically a pillar – and sends both men overboard. Declan grips the ledge of the ship with his robotic hand, keeping it in place. Virgil sails over his head, flailing frantically. His back smacks into the angled top of the pillar and he starts to slide down it, clawing for any sort of purchase. Virgil keeps falling, the angle of the pillar sending him flying into another piece of the mechanism, smacking into its side. He scrambles to grab at the jagged metal edges, the severed pipes sticking out, grooves in the metal, anything. He grips a pipe with all his strength, holding on by the skin of his teeth.

The solar blast continues its journey, slicing into the ship, carving it in half. Declan swears, hands gripping the ship’s ledge and feet scrambling to keep purchase on the pillar. “Oh no you don’t!” He cries out, pulling on the ship with all his strength, slowly walking back on the pillar and managing to pull the ship away from the beam. Morph flits around right in front of Declan’s face, making distressed noises and waving his little blob arms around. “Wha-“ Morph flits about, getting Declan’s robotic eye to catch Virgil’s movement and lock onto him. Declan watches as Virgil desperately tries to get something underfoot to better hold himself, failing and nearly completely losing his grip until the last second.

Declan’s heart nearly skips a beat. “Virge…” He lets go of the ship long enough to change his hand into a clamp, clamping down on the ledge and stretching to reach for Virgil. With this function, there’s a little extra extension in the arm; Declan just hopes it’s enough. He stretches as much as he can, reaching for Virgil, wiggling his fingers as if that will help. “Reach, Virge! Reach!”

Virgil reaches for Declan’s hand, their fingertips just inches from meeting but Virgil is too scared to stretch too far and lose his grip. “I- I can’t!” He calls back. The slight tremor in his voice betrays just how scared he is right now, and once again Declan is reminded how young Virgil really is. The metal the human’s holding onto sinks back into the base and Virgil loses his purchase, flailing and screaming as he drops fifteen feet before managing to grab onto something else. It’s so hot, he’s closer to the magma now and it’s making the very air around them harder to breathe. The sweat on his skin is making it harder to keep his hold.

Declan looks between the ship with its treasures – his life’s dream – and Virgil, struggling to keep his hold. He grits his teeth; his arm won’t extend any further and Virgil wasn’t going to last much longer. With a heavy sigh, he makes a decision. “I’m a damn idiot.” He mutters to himself before he lets go of the ship, changing from his clamp to his robotic hand. He tumbles off the pillar, grabbing it with his robotic hand at the last second. He reaches out for Virgil’s hand, gripping him around his wrist just as he loses his grip. For a moment the two hang there, Virgil’s heart racing a mile a minute and Declan smiling from the adrenaline high.

Declan swings Virgil back up to the pillar and Virgil pulls himself up, followed by Declan. The two sit across from each other catching their breath and look up just in time to see their ride out come in contact with the solar beam. The ship explodes, sending gold and jewels raining down, and the two cover their heads to protect themselves out of instinct, even if the ship is too far off for anything to hit them.

Declan and Virgil stumble through the gateway, pausing just a couple feet away to catch their breath. Virgil looks up at Declan incredulously. “Declan, you- you gave up-!”

Declan waves him off with a sly grin. “Just a life-long obsession, Virge. I’ll get over it.” Morph rubs against Declan’s face, making him laugh breathlessly.

“Aloha!”

The sudden wind rips at their hair and clothes. The two men look up to see a ship slowly descending. Patton leans over the edge, holding his compass and sowing the back of it, which has a countdown ticking away in bright red. “Hurry up, you guys! We got exactly two minutes and forty-seven seconds until ka-blamo!!” Virgil and Declan share a worried look.

“Doing good, Specs.” Roman mutters from where he sits against the mast, behind Logan who’s steering the ship. “Now just… ease her over gently.” Logan turns the wheel and the ship lurches slightly. “Gently!” Logan grits his teeth, feeling wholly uncomfortable and out of his element. The ship’s side collides with the cliff Declan and Virgil are standing on, jostling the pirates tied up below deck. As soon as the ship is close enough Virgil is scrambling on board, grabbing Declan’s forearms as the ship starts to rise again and hauling him on deck as well.

“Take us out of here, metal man!” Roman calls to Patton, who stands at the controls. Patton looks at Roman over his shoulder and salutes.

“Aye aye, captain!”

Declan pauses on his way up the stairs to lean against the rail and smile up at Roman. “Captain, you flew down from the heavens in the nick of ti-“

“Save your blabbering for the judge, Moran.” Roman adjusts his coat and walks off, leaving Declan to wrap his head around that little bomb.

The judge. He was going to be tried and convicted as a pirate. Probably for murder as well – or at the least, attempted murder. Declan laughs nervously and shares a look with Morph, who is back to floating around his shoulders.

A piece of debris from the planet sails through the air and smashes into one of the solar sails, splintering the mast and bringing the sail down. The broken piece of mast falls to the deck, crashing into a light canon and breaking it, too. The thrusters grow weaker, the ship slowly starting to descend.

“We’ve taken damage, thrusters only at thirty percent capacity!” Patton calls out, tapping away at the controls.

Logan frowns. “Thirty percent? We’ll never clear the explosion in time.”

Virgil leans over the ledge to watch the planet fall apart behind them. Solar beams still shoot out from the planet’s core and the gateway is still open, the surface of the planet slowly coming apart; the cause of the debris that took out their sail. Virgil looks over to the broken mast and light canon, spotting the small thruster puttering out beside the mess. He quickly forms a plan and hops over the ledge down to the lower deck. “We need to turn around.”

“What?” Roman calls after him incredulously. Declan watches Virgil running about gathering seemingly random supplies as he talks.

“There’s a portal back there! It can get us out of here!”

Declan catches onto Virgil’s plan, his robotic eye locating the map down on the planet’s rapidly deteriorating surface. It was a long shot, but if anyone can do it, Virgil can.

“Pardon me, Virgil, but doesn’t that portal lead to a raging inferno?” Logan shouts, and somehow even with a slight panic in his tone he still manages to sound condescending. Virgil rolls his eyes, grunting as he pries a chunk of metal out of the debris.

“Yes, but I’m gonna change that. I’m gonna open a different door.”

Logan turns to Roman. “Captain, I just don’t see the point. I don’t see how this could possibly be a realistic-“

“Just listen to the boy!” Declan snarls as he makes his way over to Virgil.

“One minute, twenty-nine seconds until planet destruction!”

Declan crouches down beside Virgil. “What do you need?”

“Just- some way to attach this.” Virgil replies as he grabs a length of rope, positioning it to tie the thruster to a slab of metal. Declan gets up and moves to the other side of Virgil’s little project, switching his hand for a blowtorch.

“Stand back.”

Virgil scoots back and lets Declan solder the thruster to the metal slab, then the two lift it and carry it to the ship’s ledge, where Virgil hops up and gets into position. “Okay. No matter what happens, keep the ship heading straight for that portal.” Virgil looks Declan in the eyes, and all arguments die before they can reach the cyborg’s tongue. They both know this is the best and only chance they have. He nods, lips pursed, and watches as Virgil kick-starts the thruster and takes off.

Taglist: @the5thcoy @dailysandersidesaudoodles @hungry-red-panda @neonb-fly @chemically-imbalanced-romance@punsterterry @dead4sevenyears @metaphoricalpluto2@tanyatoloni1334

[astrofireworks]

the one in which sanha accidentally changes their entire house (and knk's too)

au masterlist

for @goddammitdanyul - buddy ur post it’s canon now~~~

It’s the hottest day in the whole history of ever, MJ swears. It’s the kind of sluggy day where all the energy in the world has been absorbed into the weather and nobody has any motivation to move or do anything at all, much less MJ. He’s been slumped over in the armchair by the window for the past hour, trying to seek coolness from the three Cooling crystals he stole from Bin earlier in the day.

Perhaps he should steal another one, a small voice at the back of his head says. It sounds a little like Sanha, so MJ chooses to ignore it. Also because going upstairs to Bin’s charms room requires Getting Up, though, something MJ’s unprepared to do.

And anyway he’s pretty sure if he moves from his spot in the armchair an MJ-copy made purely out of sweat would peel away from his body and remain in the exact same position he’s in now, twirling its salty, sticky finger around (increasingly ineffective) crystals.

Perhaps he could ask Sanha to do it… MJ tilts his head a single degree to the left and is greeted with the sight of Sanha, Soggy Noodle Extraordinaire, sprawled out nearly unconscious on the floor, kind of like that one soggy noodle that falls out of the colander by accident when you’re trying to drain a pot of pasta.

Jinjin? He raises his head, mildly more alert. Maybe he could wheedle Jinjin into asking Bin for him.

After a few seconds of scanning their living room, MJ flops his head back down on his arms. Damn Jinjin and his hardworking tendencies – MJ’s just remembered Jinjin’s hard at work in their garden outside, Cooling crystals hovering around his face and tucked into his gardening apron pocket.

How does he do it? MJ wonders, staring blankly at the road in front of their house. The heatwaves coming off the baked asphalt are enough to warp the entire road, making it seem like one of those visions that one guy from the Seventeen coven could cast. He can feel them from where he’s seated at the windowsill, indoors with the air-conditioning working overtime – how can Jinjin even function outside when he’s sweating from every pore?

“Hyung, I’m bored,” a whine comes from the noodle on the floor. MJ shifts from where he’s been staring at the road and pushes all weird thoughts out of his mind – if we sweat from our eyes would it be considered tears or sweat – in order to reply to Sanha.

He squints at the noodle, “Aren’t you supposed to be helping Rocky with his potion orders?”

“He’s taking a nap. Says it’s too hot outside and it’ll throw off the temperature of his potion or something like that, I wasn’t listening much after he told me to go.” Sanha rolls onto his side, slowly rolling a bottle of water on its side and flicking his finger at it.

“Also, Bin and Eunwoo are working on more Cooling charms – it’s all they’ve been doing the past two days and I didn’t want to third-wheel,” Sanha adds on, almost as an afterthought to the two still-silent, not-quite-yet-boyfriends upstairs.

There’s a moment of silence as they both watch the water change colour with each flick and then –

“Let’s play a game, hyung!”

MJ groans internally – he’s getting too old for this.

Nonsense, a voice in his head (sounding suspiciously like Jinjin), you told me yesterday you still felt fifteen.

I am fifteen, MJ argues with mind-Jinjin. One of Rocky’s hyungs told me that as long as you act younger you’ll look younger.

Mind-Jinjin snorts and offers, yeah, but then Jimin told him he acted too young right after.

MJ’s about to reply mind-Jinjin but he feels the bottle Sanha was toying with hit his shin and an annoyed Sanha go, “Oi, hyung, are you even listening to me?”

Oops, caught.

“What did you say?”

“What’s your favourite colour?”

MJ stares blankly at Sanha for a while – what goes on in that noodle brain?? – before slowly responding with a hesitant, “Purple?”

Sanha hums in agreement, and waves his hand in the air. Sunshine yellow magic spills out from his finger tips and wafts in thick clouds around the room, strangely reminiscent of the time Sanha tried to cook but somehow managed to burn the entire pot of rice to a crisp and set off the fire alarm, before seeping into the door cracks and into the window gaps and out of the house.

“Wait, what did you just do?”

Sanha beams slightly in MJ’s general direction (but mostly at the ceiling), “You’ll see.”

MJ waits with bated breath for three dangerously silent seconds – if there was anything wrong, Jinjin would run in screaming to confront them.

One.

 Two.

Thr-

“Hyung, what colours do you think your dads like?”

MJ heaves a sigh of relief when nobody bursts through the front door, then turns to Sanha – “Black, probably. They always wear black and white.”

“Yeah, but that’s because blood stains don’t show on black clothes.”

“I’ve never seen them use other colours though,” MJ considers. The only splash of colour in the entire KNK coven house was MJ’s room, MJ’s kitchen, and MJ himself.

“Huh,” Sanha responds.

Again egg yellow clouds tumble from Sanha’s hands, and MJ watches (with no small amount of envy) as they curl up from where Sanha’s lounged on the floor, around the armchair, around the television, around the lamps – then out, out and away.

“Sanha, what was that for?”

“What was what for?”

MJ resists the urge to toss Sanha’s bottle right back at his face. Just barely. “Your magic, you idiot-“

“I explained it just now! You just weren’t listeni-“

“Wait, wait, Sanha, shush, there’s someone coming-“ MJ flaps his hands in Sanha’s general direction, ignoring the younger’s protest that he wasn’t even making that much noise, thank you very much, the real noisy one is the one sitting right there in the armcha-

And sure enough, a red convertible rolls up right in front of the Astro house and stops by their curb. Two small, dainty figures step out of the car, and almost as if the temperature outside dropped 20 degrees, MJ’s view of the baked pavement stops being warped by heatwaves. Actually, now that MJ’s squinting, there seems to be small gusts of snow trailing in their wake, melting and almost sizzling in the hot sun instantly.

The two figures in everyday clothes, approaching their house? They’re definitely magic.

“Hyung, what’s up?”

MJ’s frozen slightly (pardon the pun), bright eyes peeking above clenched hands on the window sill. He doesn’t reply Sanha.

Magic users. Coming towards the Astro house.

Vaguely, he feels the air change as Sanha gets up from the floor to catch a glimpse through the window as well.

“Stay down,” MJ hisses at Sanha. “We’ve never seen them before; I don’t know if they can be trusted.” He doesn’t know if he should send Sanha up to Bin or down to Rocky first but right as he starts voicing it, he sees a flash of green apron and straw hat burst from his garden and straight at the two figures –

“Jinjin!” MJ leaps up from the armchair, sweat-copy MJ be damned. Jinjin stands no ground against magic users - he’s only a human, albeit one equipped with sharp garden pruning shears, and MJ sure as hell isn’t losing him to two witches with mysterious intentions.

 Wait.

He pauses, hand on the doorknob.

That’s definitely Jinjin’s laugh. MJ has all of Jinjin’s laughs carefully categorised in his mind, and this is one of them. The delighted giggle, not the slightly nervous laugh whenever Bin says some startling thing, not the amused snort whenever Sanha tries to pull one over on Jinjin, not the soft chuckle he reserves for when MJ and Jinjin watch dramas together. The oh-my-god-I-haven’t-seen-you-in-two-months-how-are-you delighted giggle.

Almost as if on cue, Bin flies down the stairs and past Sanha, running to the door at almost full speed, Eunwoo following close behind and yelling for Rocky to “get your ass upstairs, you lazy piece of rock, your favourite witch in the world is here”.

MJ steps out of the way right before Bin crashes into the door with a soft thud, still giggly and excited. He shares a confused look with Sanha before Bin swings open the door and they’re both stunned in place by the sudden hea-

Heat? It suddenly feels like 20 degrees, not the baking 40 degrees it was before. He sees the bewilderment spread across Sanha’s face, no doubt an exact reflection of his own.

Who are these witches?

Almost in answer, Rocky comes skidding to a stop right behind Sanha, doubling over and breathing heavily, sweat beading on his forehead.

“How do I look,” he demands, pushing his sleep-mussed hair away from his forehead and out of his eyes. Meeting only with perplexed looks from MJ and a weak, “Bloated?” from Sanha, he tsks and straightens his back before marching out of the house and is met with loud cheers from the five already outside.

Over the next couple minutes of hasty introductions and laughing and Rocky blushing way too much, MJ and Sanha come to learn that Doyeon is a weather witch and that she can create micro-climates; Yoojung is an elemental witch and can create things out of thin air, with the extra power of being able to control how many times Rocky blushes per minute. (Although MJ isn’t entirely sure if that last one was a witch power or a female power in general.)

It’s about five minutes’ worth of the eight of them standing in Doyeon’s nice, cold bubble, laughing and generally being happy before Yoojung asks innocently, “So when did you guys decide to repaint the house?”

Everyone turns away from where they’ve been facing the two girls to look up at their coven house, previously a weathered white and now a very violent shade of vivid plum with specks of space violet. Seungjun sticks his head out of his now very black house, vaguely confused, mildly startled and blinking in the bright light.

Everyone freezes.

Sanha runs for his life.