#with just immediate and near-immediate family

[raccoonrobyn-imagines]

Danny whined as His New Adult held him close as he walked towards somewhere "safe". He didn't really mean to, it just came out cause one of his cuts was pressed on a little too firmly, and he immediately went completely still, hoping that Mr. Red Hood didn't hear him. Mr. Red Hood thankfully just held him in a slightly different position so his hurts wouldn't be pressed on anymore.

Danny just curled into His New Adult more after that.

-----

Hundreds of miles away, Jazz Fenton is beating the shit out of many different GIW goons who were trying to get her to tell them where her baby brother was. Despite her awful aim, she is muscled and tall and trained by Pandora. With a creep stick in hand and a fierce yet grim scowl, she beats the last one into a pulp, and stands up fully. "Are any of you going to tell me what this was truly about? Because my brother isn't in your purview. You deal with Ghosts, not teenage boys."

After a few seconds pass of complete silence, she kicks one of the ones remaining that's still conscious with almost bone breaking force.

That one finally coughs up a weak "We know he's Phantom. We need to capture all Ghosts."

Jazz's scowl deepens and with a near ghostly echoing snarl, she replies. "You have all just signed your death warrant then. It doesn't matter that Danny said he would be the one to take care of you all. It doesn't matter that you're technically with the government. What matters is that you just attempted to make me hand over information that would end up killing My Brother."

Jazz grins, sharp and bloody and filled with pin point precision malice onto the ones that they work for.

"You might know that Danny is partially a Ghost. You all failed to understand one thing though."

The woman, no, The Beasts smile grew larger and larger, and her eyes were a bright toxic green, but they were just teal? Weren't they? Or were they always fully green? What?

"You forgot that while My Brother is half ghost, I am close behind. I am as liminal as you can ever get without dying like he did. And now? You are attempting to stop me from fulfilling My Obsession."

The Beasts giggle is ready and sharp and the sound of a home burning with people inside. The sound takes a moment for the agents to place, but once they do? They realize exactly who they are hearing trapped in that building. It's their family. It's their family and what they knew to be Jazz Fentons true laughter, untouched by this Ghostly Echo.

"I will ensure that your entire group burns for this. I will ensure that no one will ever try to hurt My Family ever again."

The Beast reaches into her purse on her countertop, and pulls out... how the fuck did they not know that she had that weapon? Where the fuck did she get a serated hunting knife that's as long as her arm?!

"No One Will Ever Touch My Baby Ever Again."

DcxDp

Danny is living on the streets in Crime Alley the main issue is that he was deaged into a six year old by the GIW and had to run. The Fenton Parents were across the country at a ghost hunter's convention and Jazz was away at college. Danny's been on the streets for a few weeks now, his phone was broken during his escape meaning no contact with Sam and Tucker.

Red Hood had just finished a report on a joint case with the other bats concerning a drug ring trying to set up in Gotham and Crime Alley, when this tiny six year old with a white shock in his black hair and bright blue eyes and old bandages from multiple injuries popped out of a dumpster holding a pack of unopened hot dogs that were only a day passed the sell by date.

The two immediately make eye contact and Danny just slams the lid on the dumpster and wiggles intangibly out of a rusted out hole on the back of the dumpster and runs when his intangiblity flickers and fails as soon as he's out. Jason isn't exactly sure what he saw for a moment but when he realized what happened he's immediately on the search for his tiny doppelganger.

Jason snatched up the little kid. For a moment, he paused to think, ‘Am I seriously kidnapping a kid?’ before he recollected his thoughts and explained to himself, ‘Yes, because this kid needs help.’

The kid wriggled in his hands, frowning and pouting. He kicked his little legs as he cried out, "Kidnapper! Kidnapper! Help! Someone help!"

"Kid, where are your parents?" Jason asked. He held the struggling kid and brought him closer to his chest.

Something like an electric current from static buildup zapped between them. Jason flinched and the boy stilled.

Then he went quiet and sniffled, cuddling closer to Jason's chest plate, rubbing his chubby cheek against the bat-symbol there.

Jason awkwardly moved his face away from his taser and asked again, "Kid, where are your parents?"

"... gone," he mumbled. "My sista can't find me."

Jason gently patted his back, bringing him closer into a hug. The kid buried himself closer and Jason wondered if his initial fight was due to fear or something. "What's your name?"

"... Danny."

"Okay, Danny. Let's find your sister, okay? Want to come with me?"

Danny nodded silently and Jason resisted the urge to smile and coo. He was quite cute, with his pouty expression and teary eyes. Jason used his thumb to rub away at some dirt on his cheek before adjusting his hold on him.

"Alright, kiddo, what can you tell me about your sister?"

——

Danny stared at the strange, liminal man who was afflicted with ectoplasmic rot, as he went on a vague tangent about Jazz.

He was pretty sure that Jazz and his friends were already searching for him, since he had been gone for awhile now.

He was also pretty sure that if he gave up too much information, this man would've been able to find her too quickly, which prevented Danny from giving him the help that he needed.

Danny sighed.

Who knew that after he would be deaged, he'd have to adopt a grown man?

[heavyhitterheaux]

does Joe have the black wife effect?

To a certain extent, yes lol

One time they were going to spend time with some of Joe's family and she finds him in the kitchen in the spice cabinet basically putting all of the containers in a grocery bag and she's like???

"Baby, what are you doing?"

"You know I told you my aunt doesn't season her food. I'm trying to make sure we don't die of starvation when we go over there."

“Seriously!?”

“And do NOT eat the turkey looking thing. She went fake vegan a few years ago and it's basically fake turkey. Only thing that MIGHT be safe is the green bean casserole which I know for a fact you aren't going to like. Just sit there at the table and look pretty.”

“Then what are we going to eat when we get there? I've barely eaten all day!”

“You want to go to Wing Stop before we get there?” Joe asked and you immediately nodded.

“You know that I am never turning down wing stop. Are the desserts at least safe?”

“If my mom made it, yes. I can't speak for anything else. You know my aunt is getting older and can barely see. One year she put salt instead of sugar in the pumpkin pie she made specifically for me and I damn near flipped over a table because I was so mad. Came back to you in Baton Rouge hungry and pissed off.”

She is so sick of him lmao 🤣

[thetriggeredhappy]

I know we’re on spoiler lock down and you can respond at your pace but OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THIS IS HANDS DOWN THE BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT IVE EVER GOTTEN! HOW IS THIS GOING TO EFFECT YOUR TAKING SHOTS CANON? ARE YOU GOING TO BE WRITING OTHER FICS IN LINE WITH THE FINALE CANON NOW???? Oh my god HOW ARE YOU FEELING?????

yeah i know right! this does mean i’m going to need to go back and edit taking shots a bit to be more canon-compliant, here’s some of my initial notes on it:

fixing scout’s last name to reflect “willis”.

fixing spy’s first and last name to reflect “eugene hinkle”.

adjusting to make room in dialogue for scout being definitively a brunette, as we saw near the end.

a few tweaks to better fill in the implications the comics seem to have for how the respawn system works.

in the same shot we saw the photo of scout and his mom, opposite that we see a picture that i believe is of scout and a doggy—i’ll need to add that into the story somewhere, maybe from his brothers telling a story or something similar.

already word on the street is that some of his kids seem close enough in age to probably be twins, which actually does imply that it’s likely some of his brothers are twins! this is good, but i should really lean in more—maybe more of his nieces are twins?

”willis” is an english name, so i’ll need to slightly adjust some backstory to make them english-catholic or perhaps protestant, not irish-catholic.

obviously i’ll need to adjust to include the address of the house and a better approximate location, as well as adjust all timings mentioned to account for the correct distance and travel times.

scout seems to be big on rushing into marriages, so i’ll most likely need to rework the fic slightly to include a proposal within the first chapter or two.

since sniper knows how to fly a plane, it makes sense that they would probably just fly to boston rather than road-tripping, which means i’ll need to edit out most instances of driving that sniper does.

obviously, spy hadn’t come clean about being scout’s father, so i imagine that he probably never will, and instead that entire storyline will pivot, instead being about something else, perhaps that spy wants to romance and marry his ma, who he met some five or six years previously.

since there is apparently some kind of indoor public pool in the area they live in, all scenes outside of the home will be moved to take place in that pool.

it seems like sniper’s reaction to scout’s rambling to miss pauling about his courting would imply he is aware of scout’s crush, so the story and dialogue will be altered to instead have sniper suggest they be a throuple of some kind. this will lead to complications in which Benny and Terry are irritated that they’re being copied so blatantly.

speaking of which, scout gave two of his kids names that start with “t”, which to me implies they perhaps have some kind of naming convention in their family involving repeating first consonants. to reflect this, some of scout’s brothers will be renamed, meaning his brothers (oldest to youngest) will be named Jack, Jenry, Jarcher (Jarchie for short), Jolin, Jenjamin and Jerrence (Jenny and Jerry for short), and Jony.

while going over these changes, i realized that i’d completely forgotten to account for spy’s cyanide tooth, and written a moment where he’s gritting his teeth. unfortunately, that means that in my rewrite, spy will need to die during that scene when the cyanide tooth most certainly pops mistakenly. this will be inconvenient, but a gifted writer knows how to play with the cards dealt.

since unfortunately we now know that scout is terrible at marriage, i will most likely need to write a scene where scout finds out he is pregnant and sniper immediately leaves him. i find this difficult because i’m unsure how sniper will be able to get into a plane quickly enough to escape in the pre-established suburb, but i will make do.

i will have to kill scout’s mom.

oh and happy belated birthday!

[lulublack90]

Prompt 24 - Sleigh

@wolfstarmicrofic December 24, word count 625

Sirius was excited. It was the day of the Potters' annual Christmas Party, and as usual, they’d gone all out. Every inch of the house was covered in decorations. The smell of cinnamon and nutmeg was almost overpowering, but the smell of turkey and roast potatoes and other savoury treats helped to make it bearable. And if you thought the inside was magical, the outside was even better. 

Monty had been in charge of that, and with the help of his boys, Sirius always felt a warm glow creep through him when Monty called him that they’d transformed the gardens into a wonderland. Icicles adorned the outside of the house, and a path of real fairy lights took you to the maze, where more fairy lights guided you into the impeccably manicured hedges, passing intricately carved ice sculptures of unicorns, kneazles, tiny bowtruckles hiding in the sides of the maze, a gnome, a family of knarls and because they insisted and Monty saw no harm in it, a stag, a huge dog, a tiny rat and a proud looking wolf, to eventually arrive at the very centre where an enormous wooden sleigh stood. 

The rest of the garden was covered in a thick layer of snow where he and James had spent hours building snowmen and delicate snowballs, charmed to look like golden snitches fluttered overhead. Sirius was very proud of the work they’d done. 

The party started, and Sirius immediately lost track of his friends as they got swept away by the many guests Effie and Monty had invited. He spotted James and Peter a few times, but Remus remained elusive.  

Towards the end of the night, Sirius found him. Sirius had had one too many cups of Monty’s famous punch and stumbled upon Remus staring at the wolf ice sculpture. 

“Moony!” He grinned madly at his best friend. Remus startled as though he hadn’t heard him coming, which was ridiculous as Remus’s hearing was impeccable.

“Oh, hi Sirius,” Remus’s smile looked forced. Sirius immediately sobered up. Something was upsetting his friend and he wanted to help. 

“What’s up, Moony?” He asked, moving closer and bumping him with his arm. Remus heaved a great sigh, not taking his eyes off the icy wolf. 

“Is this what I really look like? You know, on the full moon?” Sirius squinted at the sculpture.

“Nope,” He said, shaking his head. “You are far more beautiful. This wolf is nothing compared to you,” Remus turned to him, his eyes oddly shiny. 

“You’re a good friend, Sirius, you know that?” Sirius swallowed, and he didn’t know if it was the lethal mixture of fruity alcohol that Monty had mixed or if he’d always wanted to, but his hands rose, cupping Remus’s face, and he gently urged Remus to bend down to him, and then they were kissing. 

“Remus,” He whispered into the quiet pocket they were in. 

“Sirius,” Remus whimpered back, and Sirius kissed him again. 

They lost track of time as they discovered each other, moving to the sleigh so they’d be more comfortable. Footsteps disturbed them, and they pulled apart. 

“Sirius Black, you’d better not be in my sleigh with a girl!” Effie Potter called out as she neared the sleigh. Both of their heads bobbed up comically, and Effie laughed. “Oh, it’s just you, Remus. You had me worried for a moment there,” Sirius burst into uncontrollable giggles. Oh Effie, he thought, if only you knew. 

They followed her back up to the house and said goodbye to the few straggling guests before heading upstairs to bed. That night, Sirius snuck into Remus’s room and spent the rest of the night snuggled up against the lanky boy, feeling completely at home and so, so, so happy.  

The next morning

[captain-joongz]

Penny for your ghosts, chapter 2

Pairing: OT7!BTS x f!reader

Genre: hybrid au, supernatural au, ghost hunting au (based on Lockwood&Co lore), found family, fluff and humour, some angst, eventual smut

Chapter summary: Moving in is thankfully a smooth affair, and getting to know the pack also brings surprising happiness. Now all that's left to gain is a client.

Chapter word count: 9.9k

Previous part | Next part | Series masterlist

Warnings: a little discussion about death and ghosts, some mentions of near death experiences, some exposition, Yoongi and Namjoon are little shits that love to tease

A/N: originally I planned on ending the chapter a little further, but this is also a good place to cut it and I felt that you guys deserve a little something, so instead of this gathering metaphorical dust in my drawer, I'll be putting out the chapter like this! Hope you enjoy and happy holidays! <3 ps: the new run jin episode is fucking hilarious, i love our boys so much

When two days later Jimin and Hoseok rolled up to the hotel room I was staying in, it was more than just a little embarrassing. I’ve tried telling them that I didn’t really have anything I needed help with, but like the gentlemen they were they insisted.

So, with my single duffel bag worth of belongings in Hoseok's hand and a bag with my old rapier and gear in Jimin's, we set out through the late noon city back to their house.

Namjoon has graciously offered me to live in an empty room up in the attic, where I’d have my own little kitchenette and bathroom (to which of course Seokjin added that I’m still more than welcome to eat with them, to Yoongi’s vehement agreement. Taehyung then later added that I’m welcome to shower with them too, and got immediately kicked by at least four hyungs). I was ecstatic to have a chance to leave the dingy hotel, so I ignored them all and profusely thanked the embarrassed wolf hybrid.

I thought I’d gotten used to the weird looks people often give PI operatives, but here in the big city it was even worse. Even though hybrids weren’t anything new, we’d still get a lot of looks – some fascinated, some curious, some disgusted. And when we travelled while in gear, with big bags full of iron and shiny rapiers hanging at our waists, fear and apprehension would set in as well.

Hybrids were something strange to humans, and ghosts were an imminent danger to their lives they couldn’t even see – therefore we became the mix of everything they feared and couldn’t understand.

So standing in the tram, three hybrids carrying a bag with a rapier sticking out of it, we were quite the spectacle, and I could feel my ears pulling back with the discomfort I felt. Jimin and Hoseok looked unbothered, but I could see the tenseness in their postures.

There was some general chatter, but with the curse of heightened hybrid hearing I could hear every word clearly, as if I was a part of the conversation. And my companions were in the same boat, as I could see Jimin's brows twitch in annoyance whenever someone said something stupid.

“I sure didn’t miss all the complaining about the curfew,” mused the arctic fox the second we got off on our stop and started in the direction of the house. Me and Hoseok both hummed in agreement.

The curfew was something that was put in place already over two decades ago as a desperate hail Mary attempt to stop people from getting hurt out in the streets. It was much easier to contain hauntings when they happened somewhere inside, but out there, especially around parks and cemeteries, the apparitions still sometimes managed to slip by the protective barriers and spill out onto roads.

Back then there were many deaths in the late winter afternoons, with people rushing home from work already after sundown and getting caught up with unruly ghosts. All it took was a single touch and they never made it home.

So the government put up a flexible curfew – it moved according to the seasons – in summer it was later, usually around 8 PM, while during autumn it slowly shifted until it settled somewhere around 3-4 PM during the winter. After that regular folk weren’t allowed to walk outside alone – only operatives were.

It saved many lives, but unfortunately it couldn’t save people from the hauntings in their own homes. Winters in general were hard – ghosts were stronger, agencies were so busy they couldn’t have enough operatives and people died often. We were just beginning autumn, but the dread could already be tasted in the crisp air, even when it was sunny outside.

Just like last time, when I arrived at the house I was immediately warmly received by Seokjin and Namjoon, the two hybrids waiting for us in the brown sitting room and idly talking with the rest of the team. Or pack, maybe more accurately.

There was of course Yoongi, who still smirked at me whenever our eyes met as I willed my blush away, and Taehyung, who was technically the first person I’d ever met from Bangtan Inc. (a fact which earned me a very solemn and sincere “I’m sorry” from Seokjin). The last person in that room I haven’t met yet was a young wolf with huge sparkling eyes that would look so innocent and angelic had I not seen him send mischievous grins towards the black bear earlier.

His name was Jungkook, and he was the youngest. Well, at least before I tagged along.

With pleasantries now out of the way my things were quickly shuffled over to Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s hands, and they started a little tour of the house. Apart from the kitchen and the two sitting rooms, there was also a library and a lounge with games all at once down here on the ground floor – it was the room I heard the chatter from during my first visit. There was also a little bathroom and a storage room tucked into the space behind the staircase, but that was all.

Their rooms were all on the first floor, together with an office space that was mostly Namjoon’s. They didn’t bring me up there, but there wasn’t really why – because I soon learnt that the way to the attic wasn’t through there.

The two hybrids led me towards the same door as last time, the one leading towards the basement stairs. This time I looked around the little space and realised there was another door leading out and the stairs actually curled to lead up too.

“I’m sorry, there will be a lot of steps,” Namjoon muttered sheepishly, gesturing for me to go first. I did.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” I replied, smiling at him good-naturedly to ease his worries, “I’m from the mountains, remember?” The men chuckled and we climbed silently after that.

The room was cozy – really, I would even call it a loft – it spanned the entirety of the attic, just a big open square of space. There was a worn carpet there, an old persian with layers of dust caked into it, with a similarly old looking couch and a little table. In a corner stood an old rickety iron double bed that looked like it’s seen better days, but it would do.

The kitchen was an open space, a little table just enough for two people to eat there was situated right at the edge between the living space and the kitchenette. Bathroom was most probably the little room right next to it, tucked into another corner.

“Will this be enough?” Namjoon asked and he did sound actually worried, to my astonishment, “My uncle used to live here when I was little. And the boys sometimes came here when they wanted to be alone, but I’ll tell them not to do that anymore.”

I gaped at the men, taking the space in.

“Enough? This is more than enough, Namjoon-ssi!” I exclaimed excitedly, “I would even argue that it might be too much. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay rent?” The wolf chuckled fondly and shook his head, carefully setting my bag down on the sofa.

“Of course not, Y/N,” he rumbled back, “The space is here and it just collects dust, or someone comes here to- to sulk. They sometimes come here to sulk.” From the corner of my eye I saw the hybrid blush again as Seokjin jabbed his side with his elbow, but I paid them no mind, completely enthralled by a beautiful set of a wardrobe and drawers made from massive dark wood and carved beautifully with flowering vines that was standing next to the door.

“What Namjoon’s trying to say is,” Seokjin took over with a twitchy smile, “that we’ll be glad to know someone’s properly loving the space and taking care of it.” I returned the smile and walked deeper into the room.

“I tried to deep clean it yesterday so you could sleep here, but it might not be perfect,” the bear hybrid continued, rounded ears cutely flicking around and following my movements, “but I’m sure that tomorrow we can finish it all together. Hoseok promised to help as well.” Namjoon visibly perked up at the mention of that name and turned to me from where he was zoning out.

“Oh, speaking of which,” he exclaimed and motioned for me to follow them back down, “He’s waiting for us down in the office.”

By the office he meant the space down in the basement, where Hoseok occupied one of the desks, currently sitting down with one of the chunky phones pressed to his ear and diligently jotting something into a notebook.

We politely waited for him to be done, through with all the pleasantries, and then he happily jumped up from the table, pure unfiltered joy pouring out of him as he waved the little notebook about.

“A client?” Seokjin asked, eyes wide with hope, and smiled bright when Hoseok nodded. The men all huddled around the desk, muttering to each other things I couldn’t hear properly while I awkwardly stood around and shuffled from foot to foot. Thankfully it took maybe only a minute before Namjoon realised I came in with them and he whirled around with a guilty expression, tugging the notebook out of the fox’s hands and pulling me closer to the desk.

“Actually hyung, we came here to deliver your newbie,” he said and said man grinned at me blindingly, until I almost forgot anything except for the fact that I was so damn happy to be here.

“I’ll be something of a direct superior of yours, sort of,” Hoseok explained gently, dragging me over to sit me down at his desk.

“We don’t really have any kind of hierarchy, but Hobi’s the most organised by far, so this all is his domain,” Seokjin explained, gesturing with wide arms over the basement. When I turned back to the fox I felt the awe that must have been reflected in my eyes, and the hybrid blushed, turning his head slightly to the side while Namjoon snickered somewhere behind us.

“Everybody helps, but I mostly oversee everything, just to make sure,” he explained further as he leaned his hip on the desk to be more comfortable.

“He’ll be the one telling you what needs to be done and where you could be useful. Or me. Or Jin-hyung,” Namjoon added and smiled at my expression as I tried to commit everything to memory.

“Just whatever happens, don’t listen to anything the maknaes say,” Hoseok warned and I nodded eagerly until they all giggled at me.

“Well,” Namjoon started and looked to Seokjin who immediately nodded, both of them backing away towards the stairs, “We’ll leave you to it.” I couldn’t help but notice that the little notebook containing info about their new client stayed safely tucked away in Namjoon’s hand, far away from me, and my ears and eyes.

“Right,” Hoseok’s voice tore me out of my reverie, and I turned back to him only to see him looking around the basement in contemplation, lip caught between his teeth as he pondered. Then he jumped up and started walking towards the filing cabinets.

“Come, I’ll show you the system I use for categorisation. And please, call me Hobi.”

The first two weeks I spent with my new company in the new house were quite uneventful. The client that had called was swiftly dealt with only two days later, and only Namjoon and Jimin went, leading me to believe it must have been some weak shade.

Type 1 ghosts, the weakest ones, were usually the kind that started off the season of death, as it was so colloquially called, and mostly didn’t demand much manpower. They weren’t as dangerous, well, as far as ghosts could go – it was very unusual for them to show any kind of killing intent, but even a peaceful ghost’s touch could be deadly.

That was something that was drilled into us endlessly in school – both kids with talent and without – to never get close to a ghost, never let it touch you, and run away as fast as possible and get an adult.

It was the general rule everyone except for operatives abided by – unless they wanted a slow painful death of rot and decomposition to spread through their body from the place of contact, until it pumped their veins with poison and claimed their heart. It was a gruesome death, and it was terrible to witness. Sometimes you could be saved with a couple of shots of adrenaline or a swifty amputation, but vital places – head, chest, stomach – were lethal.

And it was the number one killer of both adults and children in the world.

But the sting of secrecy of that first case was dulled by the fact that no one except for Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok cared much for it, and it was dealt with within two hours.

I spent those days with curious glances burnt into my back as I mostly silently followed Hobi around and listened to his instructions wherever we came upon something new. I helped him and Taehyung clean down in the basement, I sat next to him as he showed me how to properly fill out forms we’d need, or how to file new cases (of which none came). I even felt guilty enough for not having anything to help with to earn my keep that I insisted on helping with gathering the fallen leaves in the garden, and with flaming cheeks made Yoongi let me help him cook every evening (even though I was a disaster in the kitchen and often got reprimanding looks from the tiger hybrid).

Most of the time though we went endlessly again and again through the little storage in the basement and made sure we were fully stocked up and ready to head out for a case if needed.

It meant hours upon hours of sitting in a steadily colder and colder windowless room, wading through kilos of salt and iron fillings, checking the magnesium flares to see they were properly stored, preparing salt and iron bombs, oiling and caring for iron chains that were used for protective circles, sharpening rapiers and similar.

And as much Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook whined about Hobi forcing them to do it every two days even though we saw no business, I completely understood the red fox.

Face to face to a ghost, there weren’t many things that could save you or protect you, except for your rapier and a belt filled with these helpers. One too many operatives had died because they hadn’t checked they packed everything or that it was functional.

Magnesium flares when unused sometimes became a hazard and could burn a whole house down, salt and iron bombs sometimes crystallised shut when improperly stored. Chains when left alone rusted and stuck together. When the crucial moment came, even a second delay in a flare going off could mean sure death.

So I happily spent my time in the basement, checking the boys’ belts and bags to make absolutely sure that when they left, they would also return. And sometimes it would turn into training as well, Hobi dragging us into the neighbouring room and spending long hours laughing in the ring, watching the men fight with big smiles on their faces.

It was exactly two weeks into my quite uneventful stay when Namjoon poked his head into the green room where I was sulking by the fire. That day Hobi had no tasks for me, and I took to getting in Yoongi’s way in the kitchen, attempting to help until Jin was laughing at the exasperated tiger and I ended up being exiled into the sitting room. Jimin had briefly stopped by to snicker at me and then he was gone in a flurry of giggles, leaving me to my gloom.

I had wanted to follow him, to go with him and play with the other maknaes as Yoongi and Jin all called us, but I was being too shy to approach them outside of work responsibilities, and judging by their hesitant smiles, they were having the same problem.

So Namjoon walked in on me sullenly poking into the fire with a stick, watching the embers fly through the air and listening to the crackle of the wood, all on my lonesome.

“Hey,” he said with that gentle timbre, and I immediately perked up, “your gear just got here.” If Namjoon found funny the way I promptly jumped to my feet and ran through the house towards the basement... well I didn’t really stick around long enough to find out whether he laughed, but he sure came down behind me with a big grin on his face.

We ordered my own gear a few days back, Jin dragging me down here and measuring me with excruciating detail to make sure it fit as best as possible, and it might have been the crankiest I’ve gotten around the eldest of the pack as we continuously bickered about which size should be ordered, especially the shoes. But Jin took my attitude with grace (got sassy and told me I’m just like Jungkook, which at that moment didn’t feel much like a compliment), so all was well in the end.

“Do you want me to call Jin-hyung?” Namjoon asked, mischief written into his soft round face, and I immediately shook my head.

“I don’t think I’d survive if he’s proven right live,” I said and shuddered at the thought of his smug smirk whenever we had to admit we were in the wrong. I’d seen it around a few times during the two weeks, even once from Yoongi, which Jimin later told me was quite the feat. Apparently the stubborn tiger would rather lose his own hand than admit anything. “Let’s not tell him if it fits as well as he thought.”

Namjoon behind me snickered and pretended as if he was locking his mouth and throwing away the key, before he pulled a big cardboard box onto Hobi’s table.

“You catch up fast,” he teased with a big smile, “first rule of surviving here – Jin-hyung is scarier than anything that might be lurking outside during the night.” I scoffed at that, but didn’t dispute it, instead choosing to get to opening the box.

The uniform of an operative is quite simple really – we mostly wore combat shoes with silver tip and iron interladed soles, cargo pants made from thick cotton that didn’t tear easily and special long-sleeved t-shirts that fit like second skin and it was virtually impossible to destroy them unless you got stabbed. Then of course, seasonal additions like sweaters or jackets or gloves. But these were the basics.

The pack didn’t hesitate to spend money on me, and I had to admit that that night it brought some tears to me eyes, knowing they were counting on me to stay with them that long. It was a heart-warming moment for me, as it felt like I was truly expected to take my place in their ranks and not only serve them coffee forever (which some other agencies loved to do with younger recruits – which, I wasn’t even that young, not for an operative anyway).

So now I was pulling out three sets of each, enough to be able to comfortably swap between them during laundry, and to not have the fear that if some unfortunate accident befell my uniform, I didn’t have to fear not having anything else. I promised the man that the next batch I’d already buy from the money I earned, but he just smiled and said nothing, warm eyes fondly watching me and Jin drag Hobi into our squabble.

Now, putting them on, I felt like an investigator more than I ever had in my old torn jeans and washed out hand-me-down hoodie I’d worn up in the north.

The memories that flooded my brain brought a bit of melancholy to my heart and I thought back to my parents, or my PI friends – all the people I haven’t spoken to since I ran down here. Some that I’d never get the chance to speak to ever again.

“They fit perfectly,” I called from the small bathroom, door cracked open just enough for my voice to carry unobstructed, and I hoped Namjoon didn’t hear the tinge of sadness colouring it now, “of course they fucking do.” The last part was muttered softly under my breath, but judging from the chuckle in the other room, the wolf heard me nonetheless.

Bundling the clothes back into the box and leaving it by the desk for tomorrow’s me to deal with, we both slowly started back into the living spaces, and my palms slowly grew clammy.

“Hey Namjoon?” I said somewhat unsteadily, and watched his ears perk up before he turned to me. Perhaps sensing my nerves, the wolf gently smiled, his scent mellowing and covering me with a blanket of safe warm feelings.

“Could I maybe use the landline for personal calls?”

The hybrid looked at me confused for a moment, like he was computing that this was the only thing I truly wanted, before his expression melted into compassion.

“Y/N, of course you can,” he told me gently, “you can use anything in the house. Including the library, if you’re ever bored.” I blushed at the knowing look in his eyes, and wondered which of his hyungs told on me. Probably Yoongi, that snitch. And I thought we’d have feline hybrids solidarity. I chuckled at his words and nodded, now more embarrassed than shy.

Having his blessing, I circled back to the basement and took a seat at one of the tables where I never saw anyone else sit, leaving Namjoon to return on his own.

The old plastic phone felt familiar in my hand, as I grew up in a place where technology stayed in the 90s. Well, most of other things did as well, to be perfectly honest. The number I was calling was burned into my memory, I’d probably be able to recite it even on my death bed (though for operatives that didn’t have to mean that long).

The line crackled for a moment before a tired “hello?” rang though my ears.

“Mom,” I realised too late that my voice came out wet, the heavy knot of emotions stuck in my throat at hearing her voice again after such a long while, and there was a similarly emotional intake of breath on the other side.

“Oh, darling,” the happy voice said, suddenly all tiredness gone from it, a youthfulness sounding through that made me think back to my childhood, “how’s the city treating you?”

“Good, I found a good pa- I mean I found a good agency, I’m with them now. Working. Working with them,” I stumbled through the sentence, blushy and teary-eyed, and I swore I could hear laughter upstairs.

“Are they taking good care of you, my baby?” she asked, her voice so warm and receptive I wanted to crawl through the phone and wrap myself into it. I nodded, and then rushed to assure her when I realised she couldn’t see me.

“How’s everyone? Dad? Jiwoo? What about Daiyu? How is she?” The barrage of questions spilled out of me in one breath and on the other side I heard my mom giggle quietly.

“Dad’s dad, still the same,” she started, love and amusement dripping from her voice, “you know how he gets when autumn comes. I’ve barely even seen him, he spends all his time in the garden.” I chuckled at that, the image of my father in his old jeans that were more mending patches than the original pants, lovingly tending to his bushes and plants, preparing them for the tough season ahead, was burned into my memory from having it seen every autumn. He was a silent man, but every time he stepped out, you could see the love and gentleness shine through when he looked at “nature’s gifts”, as he put it.

“Jiwoo is also as he’s always been,” mum continued, voice sounding lighter and more joyful with every word spoken, “as stubborn as a mule, like any teenage boy. Running around the mountains with his friends, I barely even see him.”

A phone in the hall upstairs started ringing, and I could hear the beeps interrupting through the call I was currently in, so I quickly clicked the other line to keep the call running. Running footsteps thundered right above me, the excitement palpable through them, and then I could hear Hoseok’s muffled voice as he answered it.

“And Daiyu…” there my mother hesitated for a moment, unaware of my split attention, and I forced myself back into listening to her, “Well, I think she’s doing quite well, all things considered. You should give her a call too, darling, I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

I hummed, but even as I tried to come up with a response, I could feel my ear twitching with the strain of listening on the call currently happening a hall above me, but to no avail. Everything Hoseok said blended into an undecipherable buzz, all the words melting into each other.

“Y/N? Darling?”

“Yes, mum, yes, I’m here,” I squeezed out quickly, turning away from the door as if would stop me from eavesdropping, “I’ll give her a call, just… I gotta run now.” There was a bit of silence on the other side, underlined with how suddenly the house fell silent too, and then my mother hummed. But it was the kind of hum that told me she had much more to say, yet chose not to, and I sighed.

“It’s not like that..” I said quickly, trying to put stop to anything she might be thinking now, but she only hummed again, in the way mothers did when they thought they knew better than you did, and I already knew that battle was lost. With a fond sigh, I decided to just let it go.

“Look mum, I have to go, I think we just got a call from a client,” I told her, and thankfully she got the hint, and with an amused sigh she let it go as well.

“Alright then, my dear,” she said lightly, just a twinge of longing creeping into her voice, and it pierced my heart painfully enough to almost rob me of my breath.

“I’m gonna call again soon, mum,” I reassured her quickly, jumping in before she got another word out, “My- my- Employer… my employer said I could use the phones as I needed! I’ll call again soon..” I got a little stuttered up over how to call Namjoon, but if she thought it was weird, at least she didn’t see the way I lit up with a mighty blush over the slip-up I almost had; for there was another word dangerously close to slipping out, one that was very not appropriate for me to use.

And I hoped that the sound didn’t spread as easily upstairs, and I wouldn’t hear a fresh batch of teasing, now with the wolf hybrid instead of Yoongi.

“Well, I’ll hear from you soon,” her quiet voice carried over, “I love you, my darling.” I smiled to myself, probably looking like a right love-sick fool.

“I love you too, mummy,” I whispered back, “Be well.” She lingered for a moment longer, I heard her quiet breaths on the other side of the line, and then there was a quiet click of her setting the phone down, and then only continuous beeps.

I took some time to take a few deep breaths, stabilising myself a little before my first shaky steps back towards the stairs.

The hall was empty when I made it back up, but I heard excitable chatter coming from the direction of the sitting rooms, so if I had to guess, whoever was here was probably all huddled up in the green room by the fire, stealing my spot.

I ran up a little, taking quick bouncy steps, both rejuvenated by the call and excited for potentially getting to do some ghost busting.

And I sure wasn’t the only one, because when I ran into the room, it turned out that everyone was already there – the whole pack, sitting around and peeking into Hoseok’s hands, where the black notebook was clutched.

He was just in the middle of saying something when I zoomed in, but got stuttered up upon seeing me full energy like that. Yoongi was standing by his shoulder, and upon my fiery exit looked up only to smirk my way, eyes cheekily taking me in. I cursed my ears and tail for flicking up eagerly, but it felt less embarrassing when his did the same, and it wasn’t enough to make the grin slide off of my face, so I just ignored Jimin’s teasing (evil) snickers and moved into the room.

Just for a split second I worried I might have not been fully welcomed in on the discussion – Hoseok seemed to have already started talking, everybody was present except for me – but then Namjoon smiled and waved me over, vacating his spot on the couch so that I could settle myself right between Taehyung and Jungkook while he stood over us, leaning on the head rest.

“I was just about to go get you,” he said in the warm tone of his, and I relaxed into the soft pillows immediately. I looked towards the red fox, who was sitting in the armchair in front of me, eyes lit up like he just got the best news ever. He looked towards me too and smiled so brightly it was almost blinding.

“We got a client. And this one’s gonna be a doozy.”

Seokjin was nervously fluffing up the pillows for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, and I could see that I wasn’t the only one whose nerves were getting grated by that, but since the bear was so sincere and hopeful about it, none of us dared to say anything. Most of the time Kim Seokjin was a man that would put fear of God into you within seconds, but when it came to customers, he’d almost turn cute.

Not that I’d dare say that out loud to him.

“Cute,” teased Hoseok, and I immediately flushed. Seokjin turned to him with a disapproving tsk, but there was a red hue on his cheeks, and for a moment I was caught marvelling at such a rare sight. Obviously, the consensus about Seokjin’s pre-visit habits was pretty clear around here.

Like when I had my job interview, the only ones present were the three hybrids that seemed to be the most involved with running the company – Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok, with the addition of me to take notes. Though, all the others were around too, and I knew they were anxiously waiting to listen in as soon as the customer arrived.

Thankfully, the torture of watching Seokjin pace the room one more time to fluff the pillows one more time was cut short with a sound of the bell thundering through the suddenly unnaturally silent house.

I watched as the red fox jumped to his feet, ears flicking with attention towards the door as his tail nervously swung about in a manner that would soon become dangerous to stand too close to. Namjoon seemed to have petrified, standing woodenly with an awkward smile, and I would almost giggle at the sight if not for the aura of nerves engulfing everything.

Seokjin was already toying with the silver tea kettle as Hoseok tripped over himself and then over the armchair in a mad race to the front door. I had an abrupt flashback to our first meeting – to how eager he was to a point he stressed me out, and I promptly stood up into his way to try and curb his energy.

He was probably just too focused on getting to the door, that would explain why he didn’t fully notice me at first, not until I was already too close and in an attempt to stop he instead slipped on the squeaky clean wooden floors and barrelled right into me.

A moment of weightlessness was all I registered before suddenly gravity pulled hard, and before I knew it, I was sprawled over the brown room’s floor with Hoseok’s extremely red face planted right into my chest.

Everything stilled for a few extremely tense seconds before the fox was jumping off of me with a loud embarrassed scream, the sound enough to summon everyone, and I meant everyone, to run into the hall to witness me lying on my back on the floor like a beached whale while Hoseok buried his entire upper body into the armchair like an ostrich its head into the sand.

One look at the two other present hybrids told me all I had to know. Namjoon stood there with face as red as a lobster and looking absolutely horrified, while Seokjin had his hand over his mouth, though his eyes were crinkled with silent laughter.

I rather didn’t even look towards the others, instead I quickly climbed back onto my feet as a second bell rung through the house. No one said anything. Yoongi was laughing. Loudly.

“Okay,” I took charge of the situation, “Hoseok, calm down and get some shoes. Namjoon you too. Calm down, I mean.” Then I turned to the four other very entertained hybrids and narrowed my eyes. “Everybody else scram. I’m gonna open the door and when I walk into here with the client, you’ll be relaxed and professional, alright?”

Without waiting for a reply, I turned with my face still burning and stalked toward the main entrance. Though, I heard the patter of feet running quietly away and Seokjin muttering “we have to work on this part” under his breath, so it was safe to assume they took me bossing them around better than I hoped they would.

With a deep breath I steadied myself, slipping into the more customer friendly demeanour and opened the door with an amicable smile.

And older lady stood there. She very obviously came from money, everything about her screamed wealth – from her elegant black dress with lace collar, to the golden brooch with a blood red ruby that was pinned the lace, to her grey hair slicked back into a tight hairdo at the back of her head. She had quite a strict face, not necessarily unfriendly, but definitely not open, and she leaned on a black walking stick quite heavily.

There was a middle-aged man supporting her from the other side, probably her son by the age. He looked considerably more approachable, so I forced myself to relax and invited them in with a broad gesture.

“Welcome to Bangtan Inc., paranormal investigations,” I said with a cheery voice, “I apologise for the wait.” I didn’t offer them any explanation because, well frankly I didn’t have one, and I found that people rarely asked for more details for fear of looking rude.

“Good afternoon,” the man replied pleasantly, but the older woman stayed silent. She didn’t look very happy with us, but by her presumed son’s nonchalant attitude, I supposed she might have just been one of those ladies.

“Terribly good weather this afternoon,” the man continued, looking out to the sky which was a light steely grey, but the temperature was pleasant and stray rays of sunshine did make it through. I smiled at him and nodded.

“Quite, though it is supposed to get colder. After all, we are nearing the end of September.”

I offered to help with coats, but the lady let the man help her, and he seemed more than happy to help himself with his own, so I just waited for them to hand them to me so that I could hang them up. The lady seemed to be pleased with that at least, and I was glad I maybe turned around the fact that they had to wait outside for such a while.

The heels of their shoes clicked on the floor as I led them down the hallway with another broad gesture to follow me. I saw them both look around with wide eyes, taking in the old grandeur of the house. With a bit of a sinking heart I recognised open surprise in their eyes, and they were no doubt shocked that hybrids lived so well.

Momentarily I worried for what we’d have to hear from them today, but I didn’t have much time to ponder that, as we rounded the corner into the brown room and got hit with the sight of the three hybrids waiting.

Compared to the disaster I left behind me, now they looked perfectly put together and professional. Namjoon’s shoulders weren’t as stiff as before as he gave the newcomers a very enchanting smile, immediately charming the pants right off of the lady who seemed to have melted into a blushing schoolgirl upon being met with the wolf. Discreetly I thought to myself that I perfectly understood her.

Seokjin stood next to him, as handsome as ever, while Hoseok, now also considerably calmer, stepped forward with his hand outstretched, a blinding smile splitting his face almost in half.

“Welcome! My name’s Jung Hoseok, we spoke on the phone,” his voice was smooth and cheery, and as my eyes slid downwards, with relief I saw that he indeed did put on shoes.

The usual pleasantries took place, and I left them to it, only getting a little startled when Namjoon gestured towards me as I fussed in the corner about the chair I dragged over before to take notes without interrupting and said: “and that’s our assistant, Ms. Y/N.” With a slightly awkward smile I shook their hands as well, and the atmosphere relaxed a little.

Just as I was looking over the notepad just one more time to make sure everything was ready for me to write down, another call of my name startled me into paying attention to the interaction.

“Y/N will bring it right over!” Seokjin just said, and upon my confused glance, he gestured to the empty table. The tea kettle was gone, I belatedly realised, and I jumped to my feet and scurried off into the kitchen.

Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook were all sitting around the dining table munching on something, probably sandwiches as Yoongi made those quite often when we whined about being hungry, while the man himself stood by one of the kitchen windows smoking.

I ran in, scaring the shit out of the three eating hybrids and earning a chuckle from the tiger, while I panicked and looked around while whisper-screaming “tea!” the whole time.

“Calm down, darling, it’s here,” Yoongi walked over to the kitchen counter, the teapot sitting there and mocking me as I sulked over to the black-haired man.

“Why’s it even back here?” I asked him, now considerably less frantic as I watched him put the kettle on, his quick skilful fingers arranging new teabags and fresh biscuits on to the tray. He scoffed, but it was a fond sound. He often sounded that way when talking about Seokjin, though you’d never get him to admit it.

“You know how hyung gets,” the tiger teased, a light smirk playing on his face, “in the time it took you to walk from the door to the sitting room he managed to panic that the tea would already be tasting bad and thought it would look better if you brought over fresh one.” There were some giggles from the dining room table, but I found I didn’t want to turn away from Yoongi working in the kitchen. So, I kept my eyes glued to the man, slowly taking in how his tail started swishing around in much more playful manner than it usually did.

And I knew I was in trouble, because he’d never miss a chance to tease me, especially not in front of the maknaes. Especially not in front of Jimin, that little devil.

Yoongi poured the hot water into the decorative teapot, arranging it onto the tray for me to carry, and as he turned, he reached over to pet my hair, taking the moment to curl his fingers right behind my ear slightly, as if he was going to scratch there but changed his mind.

I flushed, terribly so might I add, and the bastard smirked. I felt my ear twitch needily, the little traitor, and I mentally scolded it.

Grabbing the tray, I ignored everyone in the room and stomped my way back to the brown room, pointedly not looking any of the three other hybrids in the face, which I knew was noticed by the way Seokjin was trying to conceal his laughter by turning away.

The clients thankfully seemed blissfully unaware, distracted by the refreshments, and I took the moment to decompress into my seat and stubbornly keep my eyes on my notes, even though I saw the way Hoseok curiously glanced my way and grinned upon seeing how red I was.

Quickly the atmosphere sobered though, as the two incomers finally settled down into their chairs, ready to share their ghost story.

“So, Mrs. Carter, you’ve mentioned a spectre in your garden, yes?” Seokjin started, trying not to sound too eager, as that usually scared normal folk away. We had to get every little detail out of them though, and that wasn’t easy. Not just because they didn’t see much, but because they generally didn’t like to talk about apparitions.

As if not mentioning them would erase the danger they posed out of existence.

“Well, yes,” the lady, Mrs. Carter, drawled out with a thick posh accent, “It is in the back of the garden, yes, been there for decades too.” The man nodded, and that was quite a shock to us.

“For decades?” Namjoon asked, absolutely flabbergasted, “have you never thought to get rid of it before?” The old woman simply nodded, clutching the walking stick in her hands, habitually drumming her fingers on the polished wood.

“I didn’t particularly care for it,” she answered again in that slightly detached way of talking that wealthy people sometimes adopted, “It’s been just me and my husband for a long time, and we knew not to go into that part of the garden, and all the staff leaves before sundown as is law.” She shrugged, and the man sighed, pinching the root of his nose.

“I’ve been telling mother for years to do something about it,” he told us, exasperated while the woman seemed cheekily unperturbed, much in the way that spoke of just how old the argument truly was, “It’s just plain dangerous and irresponsible.”

“It wasn’t doing anything to anyone,” she replied stubbornly, “but now my nieces have started visiting. Even with all the precautions, I cannot let it stay. Children never listen, especially to those things that you stress the most that they need to listen to. I need the garden to be safe for them.” She seemed to melt a little at the mention of the little girls, something warmer creeping into her gaze as she glanced at her son.

We all sat there and listened to them go back and forth quietly, taking in the details – and each of us seemed to have different questions. I was mainly amazed how she spoke of a very dangerous ghost as if it was just a tenant paying rent to use her garden, and not the accident waiting to happen it truly was.

Hoseok had other concerns, and that’s why he was the one asking the questions.

“Wasn’t doing anything to anyone?” he enquired, leaning forward to them in interest, “Would you be able to describe it a little? Or even if there are any feelings connected to the haunting? Does it have any habits?” The barrage of questions that spilled out of him clearly surprised and overwhelmed the duo, and they looked to each other for help.

“Feelings?” was all that Mrs. Carter said in the end though, looking to the fox confusedly.

“Well, like for an example, when you are in the area, do you feel a certain way?” Seokjin jumped in, sensing his packmate was likely getting a little too excited again, “Do you feel uncomfortable and unsafe? Do you feel sad?”

“Hauntings can sometimes influence our feelings,” Namjoon carried on, explaining gently to the two humans, “It can help the operatives guess the type of the spectre, or its strength and motives. If every time you walk through the part of the garden you suddenly feel unsafe, it could speak of dangerous intentions. If there only is a sudden wave of sadness, it could mean a weaker shade.”

The two visitors sat in silence for a moment, pondering over their experiences with the haunting, while we sat there and waited with bated breaths.

Getting details out of human adults was always the hardest part of these initial interviews. Children at least usually were a little more sensitive to the unknown, sometimes even seeing the apparitions clearly, but adults were mostly blind. They could only rely on the emotions that gripped them while encountering a ghost, and those were normally drowned out by fear and panic.

Not that anyone could blame them – even operatives had that instinct to turn and run, we’d be insane if we didn’t.

But given that they seemed to have been aware of this haunting for decades, there was hope a little more information would come out of them.

In the worst case scenario we could swallow our pride and ask whether she currently hired any hybrids on her staff to ask them, though hybrids not involved in the PI business hated to be associated with it. Our supernatural senses hung above our heads like curses, and some just wanted to be as far away from that as possible, yet unable to escape it fully.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t feel too friendly, but I’ve never felt in any danger,” the old lady drawled out, voice a little thin as she was lost in her own thoughts and memories. Her son seemed similarly drowned in his own musings, sitting silently beside her with a pale face and a strange look.

“Have you ever seen it?” came Seokjin’s next question and the lady snorted in good humour.

“Of course I haven’t seen it, how could I?” her answer was amused, but it still ruffled some feathers, as I saw Hoseok’s smile twitch on his face in slight annoyance. Seokjin stared at her, incredulous, though she was very oblivious to that with her face buried in her teacup. Namjoon once more chose this moment to step in and smooth the situation over before Jin’s patience ran out and he reverted to his usual steam-roller self.

“Well, yes, we aren’t expecting you to see it clearly, but humans sometimes report seeing a little,” the wolf inserted himself into the tense atmosphere, “it doesn’t have to be a full apparition, but maybe a shape, fog or even spots of darkness, anything like that can be helpful to us.”

The woman hummed, once again reverting into her memories to search for anything to tell us, but by the pinched expression on her face we could all already tell that if she ever saw it, she’s already forgotten or supressed it from her mind.

My ears fluttered as they caught the quiet sigh of disappointment let out by Hobi right before he started preparing to ask more questions that would most likely lead nowhere, as was usually the case with older humans. My eyes were still glued to Mr. Carter sitting woodenly next to his mother though, and just as Hobi opened his mouth, without thinking I jumped in.

“Mr. Carter, have you ever seen it? As a child?” The man startled at hearing his name, and the entire room’s attention was suddenly on me. I flushed for a moment sensing the other hybrid’s eyes, but I took the chance to speak even though I probably wasn’t supposed to.

Redirecting my gaze back to the wide eyes of the surprised human, I could see some cracks of guilt in his expression.

“Of course I haven’t, young miss!” he rushed out, face reddening and twisting slightly as if I gravelly insulted him, “Children have no business chasing after ghosts, and I knew that!” I chanced a glance at my employers, all of whom seemed very interested in the current conversation, no doubt sensing the opportunity as well.

Namjoon gestured for me to continue, and I breathed out in relief before turning to our guests again.

“Well, of course, I am not doubting your common sense, but as Mrs. Carter said a few moments ago, children often find these things curious. Ghosts and the supernatural, the more you discourage them, the more they want to see,” I argued softly, trying to talk him away from the edge he psyched himself onto.

In that moment even though he must have been at least fifty years old, there was something very boyish in his face – that second he turned back into a little kid, afraid of the consequences of his parents anger after breaking one of their rules, and I knew I struck gold. Children rarely listened, which was unfortunately why they died of ghost touch so much. It has always been a very sad statistic, one that Mr. Carter no doubt almost added onto himself.

He took one guilty look towards his mother who has been watching him with a curious glint in her eyes, not unkind but definitely exasperated at knowing her son was tempting fate like that without her knowledge, but she still gestured for him to tell the truth.

With the aura of a scolded schoolboy he turned back to the room and sighed.

“It was when I was sixteen,” he started sheepishly, face red now from embarrassment more than the anger of getting caught red-handed, “the ghost just appeared the winter prior, but I was away at my boarding school. When I returned, I was informed of its presence and the back part of the garden was closed off for safety. I was curious, though.” I nodded at him, to encourage him and soothe the sting of childish foolishness.

“Trust me Mr. Carter, that’s very normal,” Namjoon stated kindly and gave the man a smile, one that had even me relaxing in my chair, tail curling along the chair legs in search of a cozy cuddle, which I stubbornly ignored, just as I did anything else pertaining to the strange reactions these men managed to bring out in me. Especially the kind wolf and the cheeky tiger.

“Yes, indeed, children are always drawn to things and places like that,” Seokjin joined in and poured the man another cup of tea, “Even we got up to similar foolish shenanigans. Some of us never grew out of it.” The last part was pointed towards those who listened in, and I could almost hear the complaining grumble from Jungkook and Taehyung sitting in the kitchen as they argued over who invited more trouble.

Schooling my features, I looked back to the somewhat appeased human and watched him grow more comfortable in the armchair.

“I did the stupidest thing I could think of,” the man admitted, “I sneaked out during the night. It was early autumn, just like it is now, and I crept through the gardens towards the back-end corner, where it was seen. At first there was nothing out of ordinary. It was pretty cold outside, but it was September, so I thought nothing of it.”

I hummed non-commitally, jotting down what he was saying into my notepad which was slowly filling up. Hobi cleared his throat, but otherwise listened to the story with unrestrained focus.

“Well, that didn’t last for long though,” if the statement wasn’t ominous enough, the look of sheer terror that crossed Mr. Carter’s face was definitely sufficient, “I mean, to this day I am not completely sure what I saw. At first there was nothing, but then I suddenly started feeling unprecedented fear, absolute panic and terror, seemingly without a reason. I stood in the middle of the garden, alone as far as I knew, paralysed with horror. I didn’t know what to do. Then it started to appear. I noticed that there was a spot of darkness that felt unnatural, but slowly it turned into a vague shape. I couldn’t see many details, but it was a man. I watched it slink closer for a few seconds before the panic managed to override my body and I stumbled away. I’ve never tempted fate like that again.”

There was a moment of silence as the information shared sunk in, only broken by the quiet scratch of my pen as I wrote the details down before I forgot. When I looked up, I could almost see the wheels turning in Namjoon’s head and the calculations Hobi and Jin were making in their minds.

“So that’s why you insisted so much about us getting rid of the visitor,” the old woman mused finally, breaking the spell with her sad voice, “I’m sorry we never listened to you.”

“You said you saw it slightly, would you maybe be able to tell me what kind of clothes the man was wearing? Any guess about the period?” Namjoon’s questions shot through the tender moment, and it was obvious the wolf was miles away, probably thinking about the trip to the archives he’d have to make after this visit.

The guests didn’t seem to be too ruffled by his slightly awkward interruption and the man dipped back into that terrifying memory.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can give you anything more specific,” he stated apologetically, wringing his hands out in his lap, “but they were definitely what I would describe as old-timey clothes. Like a Victorian gentleman maybe.”

Awesome, so it was a vindictive Victorian man-ghost, those were always so much fun. I added the information onto the paper and hummed, the three other hybrids taking over the conversation once more and asking for some details, details we were always hoping for but rarely managed to get out of people.

Suddenly, the rest of the visit was over in a flash. Hoseok and Seokjin discussed money, and the lady seemed more than happy to pay us whatever to make sure her garden was safe for her family, especially after her son’s tearful admission that he himself came a little too close to death when disobeying her word.

As they were filing out of our house, slowly shrugging on coats while the four of us stood there and watched with polite awkward smiles, the man turned to me and leaned over discreetly.

“I’ve always felt so much shame for what I did,” he confessed, “I never really went against my parents. At the time it felt like a long overdue rebellion, but it almost ended with my death. I was so stupid, and when faced with danger, I just froze helplessly. At least it thought me to stray away from dangerous situations.” I gave him a gentle smile, hand automatically rising to pat at his shoulder to comfort him.

“Mr. Carter, trust me, kids just are that way, you weren’t any worse or different from heaps of other teenagers chasing a little adrenaline,” I assured him, thinking back to my own stunts that I pulled in the seemingly endless acres of haunted woods around our little village, “You got lucky though, you left the encounter alive. But don’t beat yourself up over freezing up, that’s a common side-effect of a sighting. Operatives are susceptible to it as well and it takes years of training to not get affected by it.”

The man looked to me in surprise and I was honestly shocked he wasn’t aware of such a thing. Didn’t humans learn about visitors as well?

“Were you not aware of that?” I asked with a melodious giggle, easing the human a little before he sheepishly shook his head.

“No, I always assumed I was just a special breed of coward,” he admitted quietly, the statement getting lost under his mother’s fussing as Namjoon offered to help her down the steep damp stone stairs, the woman accepting his arm with a blush and shy smile, which was an expression especially alien to her face.

“No, it’s called a ghost-lock and it’s common, besides there’s nothing cowardly about being afraid when coming face to face with death,” I whispered conspiratorially, bumping our shoulders together like we were naughty school-mates sharing a secret, “only a fool wouldn’t be scared.”

A youthful expression crossed his face as he grinned at me, and suddenly he looked nothing like a worried fifty-year-old father of a couple of girls and everything like a cheeky boy whose burdened heart finally got the rest it needed.

His fingers flew up to his head, tipping an imaginary hat in my direction as he thanked me for my kind words and for our services, before he turned and jogged down the stairs to catch up with his mother, who was already half-way to the gate, still hanging onto Namjoon’s strong frame.

“- you know, I was against my husband in that regard, and I’m glad I disagreed with him,” she was just chattering to him, and the wolf wore an awkward smile on his face, a quiet discomfort oozing off of him as Jin and Hobi walked woodenly next to her.

“I always told him, I have nothing against those hybrids, and they’re here in the neighbourhood,” the woman continued on totally unaware to the rising unease of her companions, “why drag ourselves through the city, when we can just walk down a couple streets! But he’s a stubborn man, that Jacob of mine. Well, I’ll be proven right, just like I always am, when he meets you and finds out that you’re such stand-up gentlemen!”

There were some half-hearted mutters of thanks, the three men exchanging wide-eyed stares before Mr. Carter finally caught up and took over, grabbing his mother’s hand and gently pulling her away from the tall hybrid, to the wolf’s relief. I saw a flicker of displeasure at being separated from her new-found young love, but she quickly found her own footing and suddenly very speedily made her way towards the gate and out on the street.

I watched them go amusedly, seeing the three flustered hybrids standing there and looking off after the spirited old lady. Well, at least she was one of those old people.

thank you so much for reading, and i hoped you liked the chapter! don't be shy and let me know what you thought <3

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[theghostavocadoe]

Presents prompt for the remnants, and Cloud? If you wanna include anyone else to make the prompt easier, that's fine! Just like the thought of them getting along.

Cloud explained the concept of the holidays to the Remnants on the night that the tree was put up in Edge's town square. Loz was infatuated by the lights, Yazoo was inclined to steal one of the ornaments, and Kadaj was overall assaulted by the offending display.

"It's just a time where family gets together, hangs up decorations, and gives each other gifts."

It was a simple enough explanation for the three of them. They all nodded in exact unison, which was both cute and a bit creepy, so Cloud left it at that.

What he didn't expect was for the three of them to find him a week later with gifts in hand.

Kadaj was first to find him with his hands hidden behind his back. He shoved a small yet heavy package into Cloud's arms before uttering a grumpy "you're welcome" and briskly walking away.

When Kadaj was gone, Cloud opened the small package to find an elaborate multi-tool. Kadaj must have heard him talking about getting a new one with Tifa, since it had been on his mind for a while. He smiled, feeling its weight in his hands before slipping it into his pocket.

Cloud found himself making excuses to use it. It made him feel like a cool on-the-go mechanic. And he didn't miss how Kadaj would smile whenever Cloud used it around him, even if he quickly hid it underneath his bangs.

Loz found him a few days after with a smile bright enough to blind someone. He handed Cloud a flower. When he took the flower, he realized very quickly it wasn't a real flower; it was a yellow lily, just like the ones in aerith's church, made of stained glass.

They ended up hanging it in the window in front of the kitchen. When the light was cast through it, the glass made colorful patterns across the entire room. Everyone who saw it complimented how pretty it was, to which Loz would loudly boast that it was his holiday gift to Cloud.

Yazoo found Cloud last. With a simple yet knowing smile, he handed an entire briefcase to Cloud and told him to open it. Confused, Cloud set it down and opened it up to find a fully functioning record player.

Record players were a rare commodity now that everyone had switched to CDs. Cloud still had some vinyls from his childhood, but nothing to play them on. The record player was immediately set up in the main room of Seventh Heaven. Patrons of the bar constantly commented on the excellent taste in music.

Cloud mulled for days over what he could get as gifts in return for the three of them. They were oddities, and they often switched interests and hobbies within weeks. The only thing that remained permanent about them was their new home.

That's when Cloud had the best idea.

The morning of the holidays, the brothers found three near-identical papers. Papers that would give them the official last name of Strife-Lockhart.

[cloudyskydreams]

Yooo I really like that pregnancy ask and I wanted to suggest a what if! Pure angst and drama if you're up to it.

What if the pregnancy didn't go well near the end because S/O's magic is not very high (to begin with! monsters need both parents iirc to have a health about of magic to make a monster.) A couple of days after the baby bone is born, child protective services (the Canadian version of it.) have to take them to their father stating that the mother is in a coma and is unlikely to recover.

((What a way to start the day. Getting a knock on the door only to find a stranger hold a baby that they were so sure it wasn't theirs. AND their s/o is probably going to die because their SOUL magic was sucked up dry to make the baby. Said baby bones looks a bit unhealthy too because they developed without their pappa's magic and is weakly crying.))

((You can decide of s/o recovers or not.))

hhhhhh you guys need to be movie directors or something because the pure plot and drama being thrown at me recently.

S/O recovers because I like that route better having a free reign relationship with your child only to have the possibility of that taken away when your comatosed ex wakes up.

Holy fuck these turned out longer than I expected so I'm just doing 3 if you wanted a different character feel free to request again! Also the holidays are NOT being kind to me so my updates are probably gonna be wack as I deal with the shitshow I call a family hope you guys enjoy and happy holidays!

Undertale:

Sans: Sees the baby bones and kind of zones out as shock runs through his body. Then he hears the word coma and zones back in. "what?" he has them repeat their entire spiel and his soul stops for a second when he hears what happened. He hesitantly accepts the babybones and cradles him to his chest gently.He's not ready for any of this and his world is collapsing around him as he finishes the conversation with CPS. Once they're gone he takes the babybones inside and simply stares at him for a bit as he rocks him back in forth Infront of the door he hasn't moved two steps from. The baby is whining and looking at him is like looking at an exact replica of himself as a babybones. He takes a few deep breaths and chuckles which turn into a full body laugh which turn into sobs as he cradles the baby to his chest. Why didnt he trust you? He still loved you even though he was convinced you had cheated a part of him desperately hoping he was wrong but now that he knows he was it's devastating. He looks for monster food that would be suitable for a babybones hoping to soothe his cry's and get his bones looking healthier. The entire time he's shaking as he rummages through the cabinets. Finds something akin to applesauce and spoonfeeds the little guy. Goes out and picks up a bunch of stuff (good, toys,clothes ect.)when Papyrus gets home. The first night he can't sleep and simply stays awake watching the babybones all night. He vows he's going to be the best dad ever while staring at his baby boys sleeping face a rush of paternal protectiveness rushing over him. He does a good job at taking care of the baby as he has experience since he had to basically raise Papyrus. He visits you once and the guilt destroys him so badly he can't visit you again. It had been a few months when he received a call. Surprise surprise it's you on the other end having just woken up and wanting to see your child immediately. Sans is more than happy to comply and gets to the hospital as soon as he can with the baby who's looking much healthier. Hesitates outside the doorway as he cradles your guys son to his chest. Possibilities and what ifs running through his head as anxiety starts to simmer. When he enters the room you look so relieved and happy to see him which happily surprises him till he realizes you're probably excited to see your baby. He hands the child over and suddenly your crying, the baby's crying, he's crying, all of y'all crying. He apologizes profusely before you can say anything and says he should have believed you how wrong he was and how sorry he is you had to go through everything alone and his grateful he is to see you again. He understands if you don't forgive him but don't expect to be rid of him because he's absolutely sticking around in his son's life.

Edge:Honestly when he sees the child and hears what CPS has to say he thinks he's having a nightmare. He's dreamt of similar situations where your baby actually turned out to be his nothing quiet like this but it's similar enough he's really thinking he's still asleep. Takes the child and thanks the CPS people for their time before going back inside. Trys to soothe the baby's cry's and rocks him gently in his arms. Checks the clock to make sure he has enough time to get to his next appointment in the day and yeah he's got a good bit, wait.... you can't read time in your dreams. He looks back at the clock and gently sets the baby down on the couch as he does the equivalent of pinching himself. Fuck fuck wait he's not dreaming. A flood of cold numbers rushes over him as he remembers what CPS said... He gently scoops the baby back up and shelves his oncoming mental breakdown as he stares down at his son. When Red gets home Edge recruits him as a babysitter (his thought process being he raised me he can watch a baby for an hour or so (red was absolutely stressed tf out))as he runs out to grab supplies and sort himself out. By sort himself out I mean destroying a chunk of a forest with his magic to workout all his anger and devastation. He trys his best to take care of the babybones his brother surprisingly giving good advice every now and then while he figures out how to be a dad. He's extremely gentle with the child and speaks on the most soothing fatherly tone to the little baby. He visits you in the hospitals bi weekly leaving little messages of memorable moments with the baby and some pictures. A few months goes by and one day he receives a call. It's a very frantic you on the other end and he can't help the immense amount of relief he feels as he hears your voice begging him to see your child. He brings the babybones to the hospital and stays quiet as he watches you two cuddling. He doesn't speak up until you thank him for watching the babybones. Tells you there's nothing to thank him for he was doing his job as a father and then it's quiet for a bit more before he hesitantly approaches and bows his head. He apologizes for his actions, for not trusting you, for everything you had to deal with alone. He's not expecting you to forgive him he wouldn't forgive himself but he does want to be apart of the child's life and immediately says so making sure you're aware of his intentions. Most likely to take you to court for custody of you refuse to let him father his child.

Stretch:Was woken up by the knock and answered the door still half asleep. Hears the story, takes the kid, thanks them and closes the door. It takes him like five whole minutes until he's like wait what the fuck. Holds the baby Infront of him by the armpits and looks at his mini lookalike with horror. Holy fucking shit he was wrong? He's a dad?? YOU'RE IN A COMA?? He gets lightheaded for a second and sits down on the couch with the crying baby in his arms. He hesitantly rocks the babybones not really sure what he's doing and immediately calls Blue. He's shaking as he's on the phone with his brother who says he's on the way. When Blue gets there he shows Stretch which foods the baby can eat and how to care for it. Stretch appreciates the help and kind of throws himself into caring for the child instead of thinking about the fact you're in a coma. He's sleeping on a beanbag chair in the nursery and wakes up as soon as the baby starts crying. Every waking moment is spent caring and playing with the babybones. Sometimes late at night he thinks about you and everything he's lost and missed out on but you've given him the best gift he could have ever asked for, a son. He visits you in the hospital occasionally leaving your favorite flower and pictures of the baby he's taken. Surprise surprise a month later when he gets a call and you're alive desperate to see you're baby. He brings the child and is grateful to see you awake when he hands him over. He immediately apologizes he tells you how wonderful his son is and how much he loves him and begs you to let him be apart of the child's life. He understands if you don't want him back as much as he misses you he fucked up he wasn't there and you almost died because he wasn't. He just loves his kid man he will be there for him and you if you let him.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

three cheers for your ego

hello mtt nation, i am here with my promised angsty christmas fic, as part of my defeat of my evil twin in the twinter war (i am the better twin now obviously). enjoy, and happy holidays >:3

When Sans comes back home from a tiring scouting mission, he immediately notices something is off. The food rations he’s so sure were left near the kitchen entryway are gone. That meager bits of fresh meat he’s scraped together for Gyftmas just simply… disappeared.

“what happened to the food?” he asked, already dreading the answer.

His younger brother, seated on the sofa in the living room, flinches but doesn’t look away from his intense blood red gaze. His hands twist nervously in his lap. “I… I GAVE IT TO THE BUNNIES.”

“you what?” Sans says, voice deceptively quiet. His whole body goes rigid and his fists clenches, threatening to break off the door handle he’s gripping.

“THEY NEED IT MORE THAN WE DID – THAN I DID,” Papyrus replies, his voice carefully laced with a tone of defiance that is not very helpful right now. “AND… IT’S GYFTMAS.”

Sans thunders across the room as he stands before papyrus, his teeth clenched so hard he can hear them grinding in his skull. “what does that even mean?! who the hell cares if it’s gyftmas?! that was all we had! do you understand what you’ve done?!”

Papyrus shoots up on his feet, his frame towering over Sans’ short stature. Sans unconsciously takes a step back, momentarily surprised by his brother’s reaction.

“I UNDERSTAND PERFECTLY,” Papyrus says, his voice low and steady. “THEY HAVE KIDS, SANS. LITTLE ONES. AND THEY ARE HUNGRY AND COLD. DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO NOTHING? TO TURN MY BACK ON THEM?”

“yes!” Sans snaps. “exactly that! if we starve, who’s gonna save us? who’s gonna keep you alive?!”

Papyrus’ face twists in discomfort, but he stands his ground. “I DO THINK ABOUT IT, BROTHER,” he says, his voice soft. “IT’S UNCOMFORTABLE TO THINK ABOUT. BUT, WHAT’S THE POINT OF SURVIVING IF WE’RE JUST… CANNIBALIZING EACH OTHER IN THE PROCESS, LIKE WHAT’S HAPPENING IN OTHER PLACES? IN SNOWDIN, WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A COMMUNITY, SANS.”

“oh, spare me the sentimental piece,” Sans growls. “do you know how hard it is to get food around here? and you just threw it away to some family who wouldn’t lift a finger to help us if the tables were turned!”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” Papyrus shoots back, his voice slightly trembling. “KINDNESS STILL EXISTS! NOT EVERYONE IS LIKE YOU!”

The words hang in the air like a shotgun. Papyrus looks shocked at what came out of his mouth, but he doesn’t look sorry. Sans stares back at him, mouth open like he’s about to say something, but then he stops. Without a word, he turns on his heel and storms towards the door, anger rolling from him in waves.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Papyrus demands, rushing to block Sans’ path. Sans glares at him, irritated.

“where do you think?” he hisses, his eye narrowing dangerously. “i’m taking our food back.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO ROB THEM?!” Papyrus gasps, disbelief making way to horror. “THEY HAVE KIDS, SANS!! AND THEY HAVE NOTHING TO EAT!!”

“well, too bad then,” Sans spits. “no one steals from me. and the bunnies will learn real quick what happens when someone does. they’re gonna have a mad time.” A feral grin spreads across his face.

Papyrus stands in front of the door, defiant. “NO.”

“out of my way, paps.”

“NO! I WON’T LET YOU!”

“you think you can stop me? i can easily shortcut pass you.”

“I KNOW! BUT IT’S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING, AS YOUR BROTHER! IF YOU CROSS ME, I’LL WHACK YOU TIL YOU SEE SOME SENSE IN THAT CRACKED HEAD OF YOURS!!” Papyrus crosses his arms, disapproving.

“you think you’re so much better than me? you think you can survive on morals alone?”

“NO,” Papyrus replies, his voice soft. “I JUST WANT TO BE BETTER THAN THIS.”

After an eternity, Sans drops his coat and lies on the sofa, the tension in the room lessening but still palpable.

“well, merry fucking gyftmas then,” he mutters. “i hope you’re happy with this.”

The frozen streets are silent, blanketed with layers of dust and snow. The streetlights flicker weakly as Sans makes his way towards the party venue and his favorite spot in Snowdin – Grillby’s. The place is quiet and empty, but bears a feast of dusty wine bottles, cold cinnabuns, and some canned goods. Sans hums a strange, broken tune as he prepares the table.

“paps, do you think this will be enough?” he asks, holding up a container of homemade soup he made by himself. He turns to the younger skeleton lingering near the jukebox, whose face is skeptical but amused.

“I THINK THAT SHOULD SUFFICE, BROTHER!” Papyrus says. “NO ONE WOULD EXPECT MUCH FROM YOU LAZYBONES, SO NO NEED TO BE SO WORRIED!”

Sans chuckles, putting the soup container onto the table. “you’re right, paps. shouldn’t be too important how it tastes – it’s the intention that counts.”

He walks up to the jukebox to see if it still works. A bit rusty from underuse, but he can fix it in a flash, no problem.

As he works, Papyrus trails behind him, his voice teasing. “WOW, YOU’RE REALLY PUTTING IT ALL THIS YEAR OF ALL TIME, HUH? FOOD, DECORATION, MUSIC, ALL THAT JAZZ. NYEH-HEH-HEH!”

“ha, good one, paps,” Murder snorts, then in a softer tone he continues. “it’s gyftmas. it’s supposed to be a special day. i guess… i just wanted to do something different, something new, this time. something nice. for you. for everyone else too.”

The next minutes are draped in silence, but the more comforting kind as Sans tinkers with the jukebox. Papyrus’ voice breaks it for just a moment. “IT’S WEIRD SEEING YOU SO… SENTIMENTAL.”

Sans doesn’t answer, busying himself with fixing the broken machine and then with arranging cracked plates and mismatched cutlery. He tries to be as meticulous as possible, careful not to disturb the frail air of festivity he has created in this small space. It should be a wonderful day today after all.

When everything is done, Sans sits in his place, reserving the place next to him for his brother. No one has arrived yet, but he guesses he can always start the feast early, a private celebration between him and Papyrus.

He pours a glass of wine for himself, then one for his brother. Papyrus looks a bit affronted at being offered a drink, but he doesn’t complain, so that should be good enough.

“a toast.” Sans raises his glass. “to time. to the end of a year. to family. to… the ones we’ve lost.” He clinks his glass softly against Papyrus, who doesn’t pick it up but does sigh, an exasperatedly fond sound.

“to you, sans. to your newfound resolution. and holding on to your goal for once in your life.”

Sans drinks, and drinks even more. The guests start to pour in, their voices echoing around him but muffled as if he was underwater. Only Papyrus is clear in the cacophony – a beacon of light he can hold onto in this strange but joyous time. Sans laughs at the jokes coming from Papyrus, his voice bouncing off the walls of the bar. He smiles as he listens to Papyrus recount the things he can’t be sure are real in his inebriated state – childhood memories, plans for the future, a warmth that doesn’t spread to his snow-soaked bones anymore.

So, he drinks again. And again. And again.

As the nights wear on, some things start to slip through to his foggy mind. Plates that remain untouched. Wine bottles that remain unpoured. The soup he made sit alone on the table, growing colder by the second.

And yet, Sans still smiles. At his brother, who hasn’t changed at all. “thanks for staying this time,” he whispers, trying to touch Papyrus’ hand but stopping at the last moment, the distance between them so small yet so inexplicably big at the same time.

“OF COURSE, SANS,” Papyrus says, a faint grin on his severed skull. “I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE.”

It has been raining snow a lot these past few days in the town. A normal monster would be freezing out in the snow, but, well, he’s hardly a normal monster anymore, is he? Few things phase him at this point, and the cold isn’t one of them.

He knows he isn’t supposed to get close to anyone, but he can’t help it when his friend hasn’t been here with him for months now and the light show in the snowy town is too tantalizing to pass up. So he goes in, wearing a large puffy coat and some hat and scarf to cover his whole face up – a perfect disguise. Now he looks like one of the children playing around near the big tree in the town center. Just a normal, socially awkward child standing near a building, watching his peers mess around from afar. It isn’t exactly fun, but it’s something to do to sate off the gnawing boredom in his chest.

And then, he sees them again.

A skeleton monster just like him – how peculiar. He was interested of course, but something has held him back, something nagging at him at the back of his mind. He can’t name it exactly, but it makes his SOUL pang uncomfortably in his ribs, as if warning him of something. So, he is content with just staying back, idly watching the scene play out.

The strange skeleton monster has been doing this for days – asking people around about their sibling, someone with a name that keeps slipping away from his mind. Again, how odd. Everything about this skeleton monster is odd, from the way they tower over most people yet never intimidate anyone, to the way they enthusiastically play and talk with the town’s children like it’s second nature to them. They’re an opposite of him, and yet-

Ah, whatever. It’s no use thinking about it anyway.

He watches as the skeleton monster again asking the townsfolk about their brother again. And again no one has any clue where the missing person can be. The monster looks dejected, but only for a moment. The resilience… it would be heartwarming to see if he had one.

He subconsciously takes a few steps when the monster finally stops at the giant tree with presents underneath it. He has taken some of the presents for himself, and no one seems to have noticed so far. The skeleton monster looks up at the tree, which has a star on top of it. When he gets just close enough, he can vaguely make out what they’re saying.

“-I WISH THAT THIS GYFTMAS, MY BROTHER WILL RETURN HOME! HE STILL HASN’T PICKED UP HIS SOCKS, NYEH!” the monster grumbles, then in a softer tone continues with a mournful sigh. “… I WISH I HAD SEEN THE SIGNS. HE HASN’T ALWAYS BEEN THE MOST CHEERFUL PERSON, BUT I THOUGHT HE’D TELL ME IF SOMETHING’S WRONG. I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED… I DON’T KNOW WHY HE LEFT… I FEAR THAT- NO, THAT’S- I WOULD KNOW ABOUT IT, SURELY!”

The phantom watches the whole scene slow around him. There’s something about this monster that feels familiar to him yet fills him with dread. They’re… weak. Vulnerable. Sentimental to a fault. In this world, it’s kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. There’s no place for kindness when everyone is out to get you.

But, looking at this monster, whose eyelights sparkle under the lights, he feels an urge to avert his eyes, something clawing at his red-hot deadened SOUL. A memory flickers in his jumbled mind: his friend showing him the real stars on the surface, twinkling like their carefree eyes.

Ah, isn’t he forgetting something?

He turns away, boots crunching in the snow as he disappears into the shadows. This is just a distraction – a fun yet trivial thought experiment. But the image of the monster standing under the Gyftmas tree, wishing for something impossible, stays in his mind long after he’s gone.

[pumpkinsy0]

Since Christmas eve is in t-minus 2 hours and 19 minutes, hcs for curly celebrating Christmas at the Curtis house?? Why is here there? Idk but he is!!

i made it to new jersey for christmas i am cold, tired, and ready to go

ik im late bc it IS christmas eve now but shhhhh

•ok look curly was rlly only over at their house for the heat, his house is already cold but around christmas its gets even chillier and he hates it, god damn it the curtis house better spare SOME heat

•may b the only time hes asking to sleep in the same bed as soda AND b in the middle of them so they can share body heat or somethin bc this cold is ridiculous man, scoot over curly was born in a tropical place he hates the cold so bad

•”hey have u tried THIS in ur hot chocolate” and its just some bs even he hasnt tried, he just wants to fuck up someones drink and see how crowded that cup can get he likes watching them force themselves drink it to not waste anything but its the curtis gang its also plausible they would drink it bc its actually good but it taste like shit to everyone else

•he pretended to b santa and kept patting his lap for pony to sit on it and tell “santa what he wanted for christmas”. backfired on him though bc two bit sat on his lap IMMEDIATELY after and hes wayyyy too heavy for curly, curlys legs felt like pure tv static afterwards

•hes so damn nosey, he likes snooping under the tree and trying to find out what everyone got, his hand has to get smacked away

•if its cold enough, hes totally licked a pole and had a bet w two and steve to see who could stay in the longest, he won but it almost costed him his tongue and near second degree burns to his face w boiling water from trying to get it off

•being around the curtis family being all familial makes curly feel bad about his own family so when theyre doing their own thing, curly shuffles his way outta there till hes pulled back in (by darry or pony mainly)

•since curlys a surprise guest, the gang try to get him a last minute present (rlly pony was gonna give it to him later but they all decided to just put their name on the gift and say it was from all of em, curly guessed it was from pony but admires the thought process they got goin

•the curtis gang still do elf on the shelf and curlys part of the duo who puts the poor elf in sexual positions, ur neverrrrr gonna guess who the other one is (its two bit)

•curly puts of parody of christmas carols, at first ur thinking “oh wow hes gonna sing such a classic song thats nice” and he fixes his lips to say the worst lyrics u will hear its mortifying, god forbid its modern time and u give him the speakers hes making everyone in the neighborhood listen

•it doesnt snow much in tulsa if ever but look curlys never seen snow for YEARS of his life, if its snowing outside he doesnt care how cold it is, he wants to go outside to mess around in it a lil bit, hes gotten a lil sick from it the day after cause he wasnt wearing his jacket which is rare but aye he had a lil bit of fun!! thats gonna wear off eventually tho, snow WILL lose its novelty

•most of his time is spent watching tv christmas specials, hes used to not rlly getting anything on christmas and theres nothing to do outside and the house is comfortable enough, ik his ass imprinted on that couch

•on top of that he controls the radio, the gang gotta give curly his flowers, he knows the good stations and songs, even if he didnt hes hogging the hell out of it

[fourthavecafe]

hello! Happy late thanksgiving! And I was wondering if you could do a hxh with kurupika x spider reader where like he is fighting them and he finds out they’re ticklish and like tickles them until they give up the fight and maybe like information too or something! Anyway I hope you have a wonderful morning/afternoon/night!

kurapika using an effective technique to get information out of you

You sat in the corner of a room, wrists bound tightly above you with Kurapika’s chains. You’d been careless, too confident in your abilities as a member of the Phantom Troupe.

Now, here you were, the captured prey of someone whose hatred for your comrades burned like an unquenchable fire.

Kurapika leaned against the wall opposite you, his eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. The air was thick with tension, his gaze unyielding as it bore into you.

“I want information about the other Spiders” he said, his voice calm but laced with steel.

You scoffed, masking your fear with defiance. “You think I’d betray the Troupe? Kill me now if that’s what you’re after because you’re not getting anything out of me.”

Kurapika tilted his head slightly, as if considering your words. He didn’t respond immediately and the silence stretched uncomfortably.

“I expected as much” he finally said, his tone still infuriatingly composed. He crossed his arms, his chains clinking softly with the movement. “But everyone has their limits.”

You shifted, testing the strength of the chains around your wrists. Unsurprisingly, they didn’t budge. His nen-infused restraints held you firmly and every attempt to break free only served to tighten them further.

“Go ahead” you spat. “Torture me, beat me—do whatever you want. I’ll never betray my family.”

Kurapika gave a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Torture? You think I’m going to waste time breaking bones and spilling blood? No, I have other methods.”

You narrowed your eyes, unsure of what he meant. He crouched in front of you, close enough that you could feel the oppressive weight of his nen but still out of reach.

“I’ve done my research on you” he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “You like to keep your past buried, don’t you? Pretend that you’re nothing but a loyal Spider, when in reality…” He trailed off, letting his words hang in the air.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. What was he talking about? You kept your composure but inside, panic began to creep in.

“Don’t act like you don’t know” he continued, his gaze piercing. “The village you left behind. The people you abandoned. Should I name names?”

“Shut up” you hissed but your voice lacked its usual venom.

He smirked, clearly sensing the crack in your armor. “Ah, so I’m onto something. Good.”

You clenched your teeth, trying to keep your breathing steady. You couldn’t let him get to you.

“Still not ready to talk?” Kurapika asked, his tone almost conversational now. He leaned closer, his face inches from yours. “Fine. Let’s try something different.”

Before you could react, his hands darted toward your sides, fingers brushing against your ribs.

“W-what are you doing?” you stammered, trying to squirm away but the chains held you firmly in place.

Kurapika didn’t answer. Instead, his fingers began to move deliberately, tracing over the sensitive spots just beneath your arms. The sensation was light at first, almost teasing but it quickly grew unbearable.

You bit your lip, refusing to let out a sound but your body betrayed you. Your shoulders twitched involuntarily and a strangled laugh escaped before you could stop it.

“Interesting” Kurapika mused, his voice annoyingly calm. “I didn’t think someone like you would have such a weakness.”

“S-stop!” you managed to gasp, twisting against the chains as he continued his relentless assault.

“Oh, I will” he said, his lips curling into a smirk. “As soon as you start talking.”

“I’m not—” Your words dissolved into helpless laughter as his fingers danced along your ribs, exploring every ticklish spot with precision. It was infuriating, humiliating, and utterly effective.

Kurapika’s expression remained neutral but there was a hint of satisfaction in his eyes as he watched you squirm. “Tell me about the Troupe” he said, his tone soft but insistent. “Names, locations, plans. The more you resist, the longer this goes on.”

You shook your head furiously, tears streaming down your face from the effort of holding back your laughter. “N-never!”

He sighed, almost as if he pitied you. “You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that. But everyone has their breaking point.”

With that, he shifted his focus, targeting the sensitive hollows of your armpits. You yelped, unable to hold back the uncontrollable laughter that burst from your lips.

“S-stop it!” you cried, thrashing as much as the chains allowed. “You’re insane!”

“Perhaps” Kurapika said coolly, not pausing for a moment. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to avenge my people. Even if it means breaking you like this.”

Your laughter echoed through the room, loud and unrestrained. You hated how easily he had reduced you to this state, hated how powerless you felt under his touch.

“I… I don’t know anything!” you lied, hoping to end this torment.

Kurapika paused, his fingers hovering over your sides. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” you gasped, seizing the brief reprieve to catch your breath.

He studied you for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

Before you could protest, he resumed his attack, this time alternating between your ribs and your armpits with maddening precision.

“Alright! Alright!” you finally screamed, unable to take it anymore. “I’ll talk! Just stop!”

Kurapika immediately withdrew his hands, his expression returning to its usual seriousness. “Good”he said, straightening up. “I’m listening.”

You glared at him, still catching your breath. “I’ll tell you what I know but you leave my past out of this. Got it?”

“Agreed” Kurapika said, though the glint in his eyes told you he’d already won this round.

As you began to speak, your heart heavy with guilt, you couldn’t help but wonder how someone so composed could resort to such unconventional methods. One thing was certain: you’d never underestimate him again.

[ravensuperr]

Gotham Baby Switch Mystery (DCXDP) - Part 3

Inside Amity Park Hospital, the waiting room was filled with tension. Jasmine, Sam, Cassandra, Damien, Tanya, Talia, and Bruce sat in silence, anxiously awaiting any news about Danielle’s condition. The flickering lights above were the only things that seemed to break the stillness, a stark contrast to the heavy weight that hung in the air. After what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and a figure emerged from the shadows of the hallway—Lady Tsunade, disguised as a hospital doctor. Her presence immediately drew the attention of everyone in the room.

"Danielle Fenton is going to live," Tsunade said, her voice calm yet firm, a stark contrast to the tension. "We’re keeping her here for a few days to make sure everything in her body is functioning properly. We want to ensure there’s no relapse from the electric shock that caused those Lichtenberg scars. But the good news is she’s stable."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the room. Even Bruce, the ever-composed billionaire, showed the faintest flicker of emotion on his face. Talia squeezed his hand, and Jasmine, who had been clutching her phone, looked as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Tsunade continued, though her expression turned serious. "However, I need to speak with Jasmine Fenton, as she’s the closest relative we could reach. But I also need to speak with Mr. Wayne and Ms. Tate privately."

Sam spoke up. "I understand why you need to talk to Jazz—she’s Danny’s sister—but why Mr. Wayne and Ms. Tate?"

Tsunade’s gaze shifted toward Bruce and Talia, her tone softer now. "Jasmine is here as the only immediate family we could contact. As for Mr. Wayne and Ms. Tate, they’re the only adults in this room, and I need to ask them a few questions for clarification. Since there’s an ongoing blackout across multiple states, and the phone lines are down solely in Amity Park, I need to know what happened at the house. Were there any events or signs that could help me understand how this happened? Right now, I have a 14-year-old patient who was electrocuted to near death, and to add insult to injury, we’re running on backup generators at this hospital. I need to know everything that went down before Danielle was electrocuted. Once I understand what happened, we can figure out her treatment plan. As of right now, I can’t tell you when she’ll wake up, but it may be a few days."

She paused for a moment, assessing the room before continuing. "Since we haven’t been able to reach Mr. and Mrs. Fenton yet, we need another adult to help with the situation. I’m assuming Mr. Wayne will be in Amity Park for a few days, so by the time the Fentons arrive, we’ll have a clearer understanding of what’s going on."

Sam nodded, his usual sarcasm quieted by the gravity of the situation. "That makes sense. I’m sorry for questioning you."

Tsunade responded, "I know everyone’s going through a hard time, and we’re all just stressed by what’s happening. But Danielle is safe, and she’s going to make it. So, rejoice—you're going to have your friend back soon."

The group agreed, each of them processing the news in their own way. As Tsunade prepared to speak to the others, Tanya leaned back in her chair, her mind drifting back to the events that had led them here.

Flashback: Two Weeks Before Danielle’s Accident

It was a regular summer day in Amity Park. The heat of the season hung in the air as the friend group—Tanya, Sam, and Danny—spent their days doing what any normal teenagers would do: playing video games, watching movies, and enjoying their last bit of freedom before starting their first year at Casper High.

But lately, Danny seemed… different. Tanya noticed it first, as Danny had been growing increasingly distant. They would still play games and hang out, but there was an underlying tension in her actions, something that wasn’t there before.

One night, during a movie marathon, Tanya caught a glimpse of Danny’s face as she sat there, staring at the screen. Danny’s eyes were wide, and her usual energy seemed completely drained. It wasn’t from lack of sleep—though the marathon was stretching late into the night. It was something else, something Tanya couldn’t place.

When Sam asked if she was okay, Danny only mumbled something about needing a break, then retreated to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. It wasn’t unusual for Danny to be private, but this felt different. Sam and Tanya exchanged worried glances.

“Something’s not right,” Sam said quietly, his concern mirrored in Tanya’s eyes.

For the rest of the summer, they tried to figure out what was going on. They had seen the tension between Danny and Jazz, but they couldn’t know exactly what was causing it. Sam and Tanya didn’t understand sibling dynamics—they were both only children—but they couldn’t ignore the unease that had settled over Danny.

It wasn’t until one fateful movie night that everything clicked. They had been watching a cheesy, B-tier movie about a protagonist who finds out she was switched at birth. The moment the plot was revealed, Tanya noticed Danny’s reaction. Her eyes went wide, not from the movie, but from something deeper—something that seemed to shake her to the core.

“I… I need to go,” Danny whispered, slipping away before Sam or Tanya could stop her.

That was when the pieces began to fall into place. The DNA tests—Christmas gifts that Danny and Jazz had been given to uncover their ancestry—had obviously uncovered something unsettling. It was a puzzle, but one that felt dangerous.

After Danny locked herself away, Sam and Tanya sat down to talk. They decided that they would confront Danny, even if it meant pushing her boundaries. But they also realized that it wasn’t just about Danny—they had to help Jazz too. Both girls were struggling in their own ways, and Tanya knew they had to be there for her childhood friend, no matter what secrets were about to be uncovered.

So Tanya suggested that she and Danny have a girls-only sleepover. Danny was confused, asking if that meant Jazz was invited, but Tanya clarified that it would just be her and Danny, and they would be staying at Tanya's house. Danny seemed hesitant, but Sam convinced her.

“Hey, this summer’s we’ve been hanging out together. It’ll be nice if you two can spend some time together,” Sam said, trying to reassure her.

Danny still seemed reluctant, mentioning that they had plans. But Sam cut her off.

“Summer’s not over yet, and there will be plenty of time for more fun before school starts. We’ll be high school students soon, and now the time to relax .”

Danny finally agreed to the sleepover at Tanya's house.

Once the sleepover started, Danny seemed to be returning to her old self. But it wasn’t until they started watching movies that Danny began fidgeting and looking visibly stressed. Tanya paused the movie, noticing her best friend’s discomfort.

“Are you okay?” Tanya asked gently. “I know we've been friends since Pre-K. You can talk to me, no matter what. Even if it’s something difficult, know that me and Sam will always be here for you.”

At that moment, Danny broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her face as she cried her heart out. Tanya wrapped her arms around her, offering comfort and support, knowing this was much bigger than what she and Sam had anticipated.

When Danny calmed down, she finally spoke between sobs. "You are my best friend, Tanya, and I don’t know how to tell anyone. Jazz and I have been going through this alone. Jack and Maddie don’t know. I mean… my parents don’t know... I…"

Tanya gently soothed her. "Hey, take a deep breath. You don’t have to force yourself to tell me anything. Take your time. We’re here for you."

Danny took a shaky breath before speaking again. “The DNA test that Jazz and I took—it revealed some shocking truths about my family. The usual stuff people want to know about their ancestry, but… there was more.”

Tanya raised an eyebrow. “Like how you're great at chemistry and mechanics? Remember when you broke the toaster and then fixed it? I told you, you’re really good at that.”

Danny chuckled weakly and smiled. "No, not that… though maybe that's just me. But I found out that Jazz and I… we’re not biologically related. We’re not sisters. Apparently, one of my biological parents has Middle Eastern ancestry, and most likely, I got that DNA from my actual birth mother.”

Tanya’s face softened with sympathy. "Damn, Danny, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you and Jazz were dealing with all of this. But you know me and Sam—our families—we’re here for you. If you need a place to crash, or if things get too complicated, you’re always welcome at my house."

Just then, Mrs. Foley entered the room, overhearing the conversation.

“Tanya’s right,” Mrs. Foley said warmly. “You’re always welcome at our house.”

Both girls screamed in surprise, and Tanya quickly shouted, “Mom! I didn’t know you were listening! This is a private conversation!”

Mrs. Foley apologized, a smile tugging at her lips. “Sorry! I came in to ask if you wanted more snacks, but when I overheard you, I couldn’t help myself.”

Danny forgave Mrs. Foley, nodding. “It’s okay. Tanya, I understand she was just concerned. It’s not her fault.”

Danny’s voice grew quieter as she spoke again. “This is… strange. There’s this ongoing case about over 200 babies being swapped at birth, and I keep wondering if maybe I was one of those swapped babies.”

Tanya nodded solemnly. “Yeah, that’s been in the news a lot lately. Maybe it’s connected to your situation.”

Danny sighed, her face etched with confusion. “I don’t know how to feel about this at all.”

Mrs. Foley, trying to comfort Danny, added, “With the new DNA testing, there’s been an increase in the number of cases—police in Gotham and other places have been working with the families affected. This could be bigger than any of us realize." She paused, then added, "But I wanted to let you know something, Danielle: no matter what happens in the future, you always have people who care about you. Never forget that."

Note: OMG, this chapter was a lot of emotion! I’m really happy with how I ended it. I know I promised in Part 2 that I would lean into how the Infinite Realm felt the portal awakening on the other side, but it seems like that's most likely going to be in Part 4, maybe even Part 5. Considering where I'm going with the story, it might come up a little later than I would have liked, but hey, this is writing—things don’t always go as planned.

I also need to clarify why Tsunade referred to Talia as "Ms. Tate." In both canon and fan canon, Talia uses an alias when it comes to her business dealings. However, I don’t remember the exact name or last name she used, so I went with the last name she used in The Dark Knight Rises. That’s why she’s called Ms. Tate in this chapter and in future chapters—it's her civilian alias.

[whatafirefeelslike]

had a dream/nightmare about picking out a wedding dress and while i don’t remember what happened i am clearly v stressed at the thought of planning a wedding

[chipper-smol]

star abducted :3

[yippee-optimistically]

ive seen like 2 actual episodes of the loud house but i watched no time to spy last night. they kind of cooked i cant lie

[tacagen]

one of the things that fascinate me about thawne: yes, he CAN be normal with kids! surprisingly normal!

((not at all times, though. his mental illness still spills through and as usual he, in trying to manipulate or hurt others, spits out at them the exact stuff that would hurt him (or have in his childhood/barry's rejection interpretation) the most in the first place lmao))

but at the same time. his like second instinct when doing his bullshit is FUCK THEM (as) KIDS

(and, well. whatever this classifies as)

[todayisafridaynight]

This is a terrible gag gift youd give mine in a dating sim thatd make him hate you but wouldn’t let you know until the end of the game when you fail his route