Bin from Spectra is a disabled autistic canonically genderless femache les4les canonically trixic azalian lilaen sun lesbian with PTSD and OCD who uses he/him pronouns!
His wife Rice is a canonically POC neurodivergent les4les canonically citrinian moon lesbian who uses she/her pronouns and nameself first person pronouns!
Lateral is a canonically physicall disabled canonically depressed canonically autistic enbyhet catgender canonically genderless canonically cis being with canon PTSD, kyphosis, and special interests in Spongebob, the Kirby franchise, and the Sonic franchise who canonically uses he/him and it/its pronouns and also goes by the name Lottie!
Jingi is a canonically biracial autistic canonically aroace canonically genderless girlflux paragirl demigirl agender girl with ADHD and PTSD who uses she/her pronouns!
D is a disabled depressed canonically toric being with bipolar disorder and amnesia who canonically uses he/him, they/them, and it/its pronouns, also uses no pronouns, thon/thons, and we/us pronouns, and feels that the term nonbinary is the closest to their experience, but doesn't use it to describe themselves, as it canonically cannot grasp gender!
D2 is an autistic gay demiboy with ADHD, PTSD, BPD, IED, and RAD who canonically uses he/him and it/its pronouns!
Bin and Rice's canon adopted child Tofu is an autistic pinkgender gendercute pinkthing girl with special interests in princesses and knights who canonically uses she/her and it/its pronouns!
Geoffrey is a canonically mentally ill autistic canonically gay gendervoid MLPgender sparklefurgender 2000scoric 90scoric 80scoric 70scoric psychologist-thing being with PTSD and special interests in MLP and the furry fandom who uses he/him pronouns!
Lateral's creator B is a femme canonically polyamorous canonically gay canon cis man and canon drag queen who canonically uses all pronouns, heavily reclaims both stereotypes and slurs used against xir, and experiences comphet!
B's favorite person and husband NaN from Konpeito is a canonically POC canonically disabled canonically blind canonically trans canonically polyamorous canonically MLM gay man and canon cane user who uses he/him pronouns!
Walker is a POC autistic sapphic azurgamergirl canon trans woman with a special interest in gaming who uses she/her pronouns!
Her sibling Mellow is a POC canonically nonverbal being with ADHD who canonically doesn't understand gender and canonically goes by they/them pronouns!
Their eldest brother and self-assigned middle sibling Eliot is a POC neurodivergent panophobic being who canonically has no knowledge of gender and canonically uses he/him and they/them pronouns!
鬼島 禅 (Onijima Zen)
“★Demon turned Idol?!★ Rough and tough, Oni Yankee??“
“Once slain by Yoshimune and now, his servant, Zen acts diligently to try and not disappoint anyone. He’s only an idol to serve his master. Although- he’s still the rebellious a member of Jingi!“
“Don’t miss this lightning-fast dance!”
Unit: 神祇-JINGI- (Shinto -JINGI-)
Fantasia Form: Demon
Killing Blow: Crazy Thunder Dance
Age: 17 years old
Height: 168 cm
Weight: 58kg
Blood type: Type A
Birthday: November 22nd
Hobbies: BBQ / Wadaiko
Favorite things: meat, meat, meat (beef, pork, chicken)
Dislikes: grass, grass, grass (leaf vegetables, root vegetables, fruit vegetables)
Voice Actor: Genki Okawa
Special thanks to jun (@AMAJIKIS on twitter) for their english translation. The link to the original translation: https://twitter.com/AMAJlKlS/status/1019452509448998912/photo/1
Also check their current active account: @shinomiyagis https://twitter.com/shinomiyagis
Special thanks to the inactive wikia: https://i-fan.gamerch.com/%E9%AC%BC%E5%B3%B6%20%E7%A6%85
Image sources: in-game, and twitter
Author’s note: I have taken the fan translation, my own translations and, some rewording to make the description a little smoother.
Summary: When Taehyung’s professor hires him to “babysit,” he is certain Jimin is nothing like what he expected.
A/N: That’s right, we’re getting back to this story. Poor thing has been left alone for months, aw. Enjoy! <3
P.S. Wow, I really love Tae. What a gem of a person. We don’t deserve him. Wow.
More notes at the bottom.
Warnings: Some bad words.
WC: 5,264
Masterlist
2. Comfortable
3. Clarity
Unclear. Everything in Taehyung’s vision seems unclear, unsure, unreal at the moment. He can’t remember a time when he felt so disoriented and confused. No, he can. Weeks ago when he was first asked to “babysit” this doll that was suddenly not a doll. The doll that was blinking and breathing and moving and talking to him.
“Taehyung?” the doll, thing, boy, said, tilting his head again. His face was so full of fear and concern. Taehyung could tell that easily. Even the most unobservant person would be able to tell that. Taehyung didn’t respond yet, couldn’t respond yet, as he scrubbed his hand over his face and then through his hair and then up and down his temples over and over again.
“I’m losing it,” he muttered, and almost yelped as he scooted back when a hand came into his vision. A wrist.
“Please, put it back,” the doll, boy, pleaded, and Taehyung had to look up at it, him, wondering what it was referring to. The boy pointed to the watch sitting on the counter, and Taehyung blinked at it.
“The watch?” he said stupidly, and bless the doll for being patient, because he only nodded and held his wrist out again. Shaking his head as his legs shook, Taehyung recovered enough to stand up, using the counter to lean on, and picked up the watch with still trembling hands. “Okay, okay,” he said to himself. He moved slowly and took the other boy’s wrist in his own hand, turning it upside down and around a few times, stroking his thumb over the too-real skin. “This is crazy,” he muttered to himself as he slipped the watch back on, and he watched in amazement, in confusion, in awe as the boy went stiff under his hand. His skin turned cold, and Taehyung could only hear himself breathing again when the watch clasped shut. “What the fuck,” he said, jumping away. The boy on the toilet was still naked and bent over just enough so that as he froze his body started to fall to the side, and Taehyung cursed again as he leapt forward to keep the doll from falling to the floor. “What the fuck,” he muttered again. He swore to himself that he wasn’t crazy. That surely everything he just saw had actually happened. But there was no explanation for it. Only the watch.
But Taehyung examined it, looked everywhere for an engraving or stamp or scratch or any indication that it wasn’t just a plain watch. But it ticked like a watch and told time like a watch and just looked like a watch. Sighing, he lifted the doll into the tub, hoping the water hadn’t gone too cold, and proceeded to clean off the mess he had made. The thing didn’t move at all again, and he took care to keep the watch out of the water. Once the thing was clean, he hurried to dry it and struggled to dress it, its stiff limbs cumbersome and awkward and too much like a doll’s. He moved him back to the couch once he was clean, only stopping to think about repercussions once he stood in the kitchen and drank another cup of tea in some futile attempt to calm himself down. Even though the thing looked clean now, and there were no traces of tea or splatters of meat on him, he was wearing different clothes. Namjoon would surely know something was wrong now, and Taehyung groaned, remembering what the doll had said when he took off the watch.
He’ll know. Perhaps that meant Namjoon already knew. Maybe he was being watched. Maybe he had some weird tracking device in the watch, and like some criminal under house arrest, he could tell if his wrist monitor was taken off. Whatever the case, Taehyung could not calm down, and he actually started pacing as the morning went on, glancing nervously at the clock on the oven’s display, waiting for Namjoon to get back. He eyed the doll on the couch occasionally, but it was simply sitting there. In a last moment of panic, Taehyung grabbed its book and flopped it open in its lap before scurrying away. He wasn’t a moment too soon, it seemed, as the door to the apartment swung open soon after, Namjoon stepping through looking slightly more concerned than when he had left three hours ago.
“Everything okay?” he said, because he always said that when he came home. Taehyung managed a bobble head nod and squeaked out a,
“Yep! That all you need?”
“Yeah, let me get the check,” Namjoon said, already heading for the hallway. But Taehyung went for the door.
“It’s okay, I’ll get it Monday. I gotta go.”
“Okay, are you sur—” Namjoon might have been asking, but Taehyung waved him off and closed the door behind him. He did not like running, but he ran away from the building as fast as he could and ran almost the whole way to the coffee shop.
“Yoongi!” he said as soon as he pushed through the door. His friend and everyone else in the shop that didn’t have headphones on to blur out any noise all looked at him as he entered. His eyes and hair were probably wild, and if his life was a rom-com, everyone would be waiting for him to announce his undying love for Yoongi. But his life seemed to be more of a horror movie lately. “Yoongi,” he panted, pushing past the two people in line. “It talked.”
“Tae,” Yoongi hissed, pushing on his arm to move him, “wait your turn.”
“But Yoongi,” Taehyung gasped, but he let his friend move him, especially when he saw Seokjin standing in the doorway to the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.
“Come help me back here, yeah?” he said before turning around without waiting for Taehyung to respond. He gave Yoongi one last pleading glance, but his friend was already apologizing to the customer in front of him and assuring them it wouldn’t happen again. The guy in a bright blue jacket thankfully only laughed and placed his order as Taehyung scurried around the counter and into the kitchen.
“Seokjin, Seokjin,” he chanted, “the doll, the doll, it talked.”
“You should be more careful with this,” Seokjin said instead, holding up a small gem that glimmered under the strong kitchen lights.
“Where did you find it?” Taehyung gasped, reaching for his lost pendant. Seokjin tsked, though, pulling his hand back and over his head where Taehyung was not about to jump for it like some puppy wanting a treat.
“Where did you get this from?” Seokjin said instead.
“From Dr. Kim. My professor. Guy with a doll, which, by the way, talked to me this morning.”
“Wait,” Seokjin said, his arm lowering slightly before he raised it back up. “No, one thing at a time. He gave this to you?”
“Yes. Well, he said his doll wanted me to have it. Jimin.”
“Jimin.”
“Yeah, that’s its name.”
“And did Dr. Kim,” Seokjin said, drawing out the man’s name, “say what it was for?”
“What? No. I mean, it’s just a charm for my phone. I could have made it into a necklace, too. See? The other part is white,” Taehyung said, pulling out his phone. Seokjin’s arm lowered to his side as he stepped forward and put out his other hand, still covered a little in flour, for Taehyung’s phone. He handed it over and put out his other hand, but Seokjin did not give him his stone back. He watched as his friend looked at both of the stones, or his phone, or something, turning them over and around and running his fingers over them both.
“So you said Dr. Kim, Kim Namjoon gave these to you?” Seokjin finally said, something odd in his voice.
“Yes,” Taehyung said slowly, a little annoyed. He wanted to talk to Yoongi and find out what he knew about possessed dolls.
“Have you noticed anything different lately?” Seokjin asked vaguely.
“Besides the fact that the doll talked this morning? No.”
“Nothing? You haven’t noticed anything different? About yourself? Me?”
“I mean,” Taehyung said, trying to think. “Not really? I’ve been staying awake in Dr. Kim’s class more. And,” he trailed off, seeing the way Seokjin was looking at him.
“And?”
“And, I mean, I notice things,” he shrugged.
“I know. You always have,” Seokjin said, sighing a little. “But anything more? Extra?”
“I mean,” Taehyung stalled again, looking around at all of the kitchen equipment, wondering what they were all used for.
“Taehyung,” Seokjin said softly. “I need you to tell me. For Yoongi.”
“Wha-” Taehyung said, his eyes whipping back to Seokjin’s. “What does Yoongi have to do with this?”
“Probably more than you’d think,” Seokjin sighed again. “So?”
“So. So, I mean, I notice, I notice the way you look at him. And he looks at you. Like, surely you know?”
“I know,” Seokjin said softly. “Just waiting for him to know. Anyway,” he cleared his throat and reached over to hand Taehyung his pendants back. “What’s this about the doll talking?”
“Oh, yeah, shit, man, it spoke.”
“Right.”
“Believe me. I was going to give it a bath—”
“You what?”
“I got it really messy. On accident. So I figured it needed a bath.”
“The doll needed a bath?”
“Well,” Taehyung stuttered. “I didn’t know how else to clean it. Anyway, I took off the watch it was wearing, because I wasn’t about to break some gold watch, I’m in enough debt as it is, and the thing started moving and speaking, and I’m pretty sure I blacked out, but when I came to it was still breathing and talked to me again and told me to put the watch back on, so I did, and it just went stiff again.”
“The doll came to life?” Seokjin said slowly, somehow extraordinarily patient with Taehyung.
“I guess you could say that.”
“Because you took off the watch?”
“When you say it like that,” Taehyung sighed, “it sounds stupid.”
“No, no,” Seokjin reassured him. “Just trying to put all of the pieces together. This pendant, and the watch. Kim Namjoon.”
“Do you know him?” Taehyung said, fixing the charm on his phone.
“I do. He’s pretty famous.”
“Famous enough for a random baker to know?”
“Excuse me?” Seokjin said, huffing. “Be quiet before I bake you into a pie.”
“Right, sorry,” Taehyung laughed, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “But seriously, why do you know him?”
“Taehyung,” Seokjin said slowly, “that pendant. It isn’t just for looks.” Taehyung waited for him to continue, hearing the whirring of the coffee grinder and soft hum of Yoongi’s voice. “The white one, quartz, is for clearing the mind, or for healing, and the blue one, sapphire, it’s very rare, given to bring wisdom or good fortune.”
“Right,” Taehyung said, smiling. “I don’t really believe in all that mysticism stuff. Next thing you’ll be telling me, you believe lavender oil can clear my acne.”
“Well, actually,” Seokjin said before he shook his head. “No. Taehyung, I’m serious. It’s not mumbo jumbo. It’s magic.”
“Ma—” Taehyung said. “Right. Okay, look,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “I’m not crazy. The doll really did start speaking. But forget I mentioned it. I don’t need to be made fun of.”
“Taehyung,” Seokjin said, but the younger boy was already leaving. He brushed by Yoongi, too, who gave him an odd look and called out to him to no avail.
Taehyung was not petty. He did not hold grudges. He hated conflict and fighting, so he actively avoided them and preferred letting his friends just win arguments.
No, that’s a lie. Taehyung hated conflicted, but he also hated losing. He hated being made fun of. He hated when people didn’t listen to his side of the story, when he was brushed off or pushed aside or written off for his “crazy” ideas. And he was a little petty. Petty enough to avoid everyone over the weekend and not go to the coffee shop Monday morning. He didn’t particularly want to. He wanted his tea, and he wanted to speak to Yoongi, but he did not want to see Seokjin. Dr. Kim gave him his check in class and asked if he was okay, and he waved him off as respectfully as he could, unable to meet his eye. He fiddled with the pendants on his phone and took his notes without really thinking. And he got up Tuesday and made his own tea and ignored the texts and phone calls from Yoongi and went to his classes, trying to focus and finding it surprisingly easy to do so. No matter how confused he was about Jimin or frustrated by what Seokjin had said, at the forefront of his mind were his classes and focusing on the work he had to do. He slept well, too, even if he went to bed afraid he was going to toss and turn. By Wednesday, he lay in bed until after the coffee shop opened but only walked by it on his way to campus, noticing Yoongi already busy at work actually actively talking to some guy at the counter in a bright blue jacket, Seokjin probably in the back still baking or cleaning. Taehyung adjusted his backpack, but he kept walking. There was no such thing as magic.
There was nothing magical about the stones hanging from his phone. There was nothing magical about the watch Dr. Kim messed with before class started that afternoon. There was nothing magical about the doll. If all of those premises were true, that would mean Taehyung was just crazy, but believing in magic was just as crazy. The semester was a month away from being over. He couldn’t afford to lose it now. But when he saw Seokjin entering his lecture hall, he was afraid he really was losing it, or about to. The tall, dark-haired man made eye contact with him, but he approached the professor at the front of the room instead. And Taehyung watched, unable to do anything, his mouth hanging slightly open. When they both looked up at him, he visibly gulped, and when Dr. Kim summoned him with a finger, he almost tripped on the tiny stairs on the way to the front of the room, positive everyone had gone silent anxiously awaiting witnessing his murder in front of them all. He walked with his hands behind his back like a child about to be reprimanded.
“Taehyung,” his teacher said, putting a hand on his shoulder that made him want to sink into the floor. “You never told me you knew Seokjin.”
“I. I didn’t know it mattered.”
“Oh? Which only means Seokjin, of course, never mentioned me.”
“Always trying to respect your wishes for privacy, Namjoon,” Seokjin said, grinning.
“Which, of course, I appreciate,” Namjoon said, letting go of Taehyung. “Anyway, hurry back.” He turned to get ready for class, and Taehyung raised his eyebrows to ask a question, but Seokjin grabbed his elbow to lead him out of the room. Once they were on the hall, he let go and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Seokjin said. Taehyung flapped his arms in frustration.
“Tell him what?”
“That you woke the doll up.”
“I didn’t wake the doll up,” Taehyung whined.
“Right,” Seokjin said, taking another deep breath. “You didn’t tell him. You should. You really should.” Taehyung looked at his friend, or, the man his friend was clearly in love with. There was a tint of pink to his cheeks, and he still had his eyes closed, his breath a little ragged.
“Are you okay?” Taehyung said, recognizing that something was wrong.
“Yeah,” Seokjin said, putting a hand out. “I just forgot how strong he is.”
“What?” Taehyung said, glaring at Seokjin as the older boy finally opened his eyes.
“Look,” Seokjin said, grabbing Taehyung’s elbow again, even if a little softer this time. “I came because Yoongi is worried about you. He said you’re ignoring him, and I noticed you haven’t been coming in. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just busy,” Taehyung shrugged, but Seokjin’s eyes only narrowed.
“So it was what I said. Look, don’t take it out on Yoongi just because I have magic. Please, this isn’t exactly the way I wanted you to find out, and I definitely don’t want him finding out from you.”
“What are you talking about, Seokjin?” Taehyung said, pulling his arm away from the man in front of him.
“Listen. Let the pendant do its work. Jimin clearly wanted you to have it for a reason. Focus. Do what you do best. Observe. Look at me.” Taehyung did, even if he didn’t want to. He felt the charm in his pocket. The image of Namjoon’s watch ran through his mind. And the doll. Jimin. His hair. His eyes. His life-like skin. Taehyung gasped and took a step back.
“What the fuck,” he breathed, but Seokjin’s hands were firm but soft as they grabbed his, keeping him from getting away.
“It’s okay,” Seokjin said. “Calm down.” Taehyung breathed deeply, his eyes flickering between their joint hands and Seokjin’s face.
“Are you doing some weird magic shit on me right now?” he said, his eyes wide. Seokjin smiled softly.
“Maybe.”
“Oh my god. How are you doing that?”
“Magic,” Seokjin grinned, and Taehyung ripped his hands away, crossing his arms over his chest. “Taehyung, please, hold on. I’m a good witch, I know that’s exactly what a bad witch would tell you to make you believe they were good, but you’re too smart to fall for that. I know you can tell I don’t mean any harm. I think you could tell that before Namjoon even gave you that pendant. Right? You know I only want the best for Yoongi.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Taehyung whispered.
“Let me help. We need to talk about Namjoon. And Jimin. Namjoon is a good witch, too, I promise.”
“A good witch,” Taehyung repeated dumbly. “Aren’t witches girls?”
“That’s sexist,” Seokjin snorted before pressing his hands down his pants. “Look, please come by the shop after class? I promise to explain everything?”
“With Yoongi, too?”
“No,” Seokjin said, looking away for a moment, that same sadness Taehyung was growing used to seeing in his eyes again. “No, he’s not ready.”
“What do you mean? He’s not a pie. If you’re going to tell me, you should tell him.”
“No,” Seokjin sighed. “He’s not ready. He’s far too logical. If you’re having this hard of a time believing me, just imagine what he’ll be like. No, he won’t be believe me. And while you’ve clearly been spooked, I’m afraid he wouldn’t go anywhere but would just stop looking at me. Trust me, Taehyung, I’ve been thinking about how to convince him I’m telling the truth since the first day he started working with me.” Taehyung pressed his lips together and thought as hard as he could about how wrong Seokjin surely must be to underestimate his friend so much, except he also knew Seokjin knew Yoongi in ways he didn’t and was probably right. Plus, if he really was magical, he probably had secret magical ways of knowing things. Taehyung shuffled a step back, picturing Seokjin looking around in his head.
“Fine, I’ll be by after class. See you.” He didn’t wait to hear if Seokjin responded, hurrying to get back to his seat and trying to avoid feeling awkward with everyone staring at him. He hoped, for just once, that Dr. Kim wouldn’t make his usual rounds and leave Taehyung to stare at his empty page of no notes, his mind too distracted with what Seokjin had just said, but the second he felt a hand on his shoulder all he could hear was Seokjin’s words on repeat: “I just forgot how strong he is.”
Fleeing from a conversation he didn’t want to have seemed to be becoming a common theme in Taehyung’s life, because he could tell Dr. Kim wanted to talk to him once class was over, and he knew he didn’t want to sit around and be left alone in the room with him. “I just forgot how strong he is.” One for running metaphorically but not literally, Taehyung ran almost all the way to the coffee shop, anyway, furiously out of breath by the time he pushed through the doors. Some man with a bright blue jacket was leaning over the counter talking to Yoongi, but Taehyung’s friend at least looked up and gave him his attention, his smile withering quickly when he noticed the state Taehyung was in.
“Where’s Seokjin?” Taehyung said, walking behind the counter and ignoring the look jacket man gave him.
“Nice to see you, too, Tae,” Yoongi said simply, but he put his hand out to stop Taehyung as he tried to walk past. Taehyung knew what he wanted, and he knew he was being a jerk, but Yoongi wasn’t in danger, and he might potentially be, so he patted his friend’s arm quickly on his way to the kitchen.
“I’m okay, just gotta talk to Seokjin.”
The man was baking, which didn’t surprise Taehyung, since he was a baker. But apparently he was also a magician. A witch, and Taehyung started looking around the utensils and equipment for any smoking liquid. He could feel Seokjin watching him with his beady magical eyes, probably burrowing into his brain again, and he tousled his own hair before turning to glare at the man.
“Are you looking for something?” Seokjin said, but Taehyung only rushed over to him, crowding his space.
“What did you mean Dr. Kim is stronger than you remember?”
“Why don’t you sit down? Maybe grab a muffin?”
“No thanks,” Taehyung said, even as he hopped up on the counter, probably dirtying his pants by disturbing a pile of flour and reaching over to grab a still-warm muffin from the tin. He greedily took a bite only to stop and stare at Seokjin looking at him. He looked down at the muffin and then back at the man before throwing the thing on the ground. “Oh my god, did you just poison me?”
“What the fuck,” Seokjin said, bending down to pick up the half-smushed muffin and dusting it off, which seemed pretty pointless in Taehyung’s opinion. “Why would I poison you with Yoongi in the next room?”
“I don’t know,” Taehyung hissed, leaning toward the man. “But you didn’t exactly answer my question.”
“No, Tae,” Seokjin rolled his eyes, “the muffins are not poisonous.”
“Are they magical, though?” Taehyung said, pointing a finger at the batch that Seokjin was still beating.
“That depends on what you mean,” Seokjin replied, stirring the batter nonchalantly.
“Oh my god, they are. You’re using magic to bake muffins.”
“Tae, look around. See that oven? Does it look magical to you?”
“No, but the pendants on my phone didn’t look magical, either. And you don’t look magical. But apparently they are. And you are. So, appearances can be deceiving.”
“Good,” Seokjin said, smiling up at Taehyung before emptying the muffin tray to fill up again. “I’m glad you’re starting to understand that. There’s nothing magical about the food I make here. There’s just something magical about me.”
“What?” Taehyung deadpanned, blinking in annoyance. “What is that even supposed to me?”
“It means I can’t help the things I bake having a little bit of magic in them.”
“So your magic is to make things taste better?”
“No, that’s just experience and pure talent. I have different abilities,” Seokjin says, turning away for a moment to open up the apparently normal, non-magical oven. “But most of what I infuse things with is peace, comfort, calming. A sense of belonging or home. It’s why everything I make tastes like something your mom used to make when you were a kid.”
“It—they do not,” Taehyung stuttered, even though they both knew it was a lie. Seokjin’s baked goods were hard to describe. To most, they were just good, the best in town for those who bothered to try anything else to do a comparison. Taehyung had never thought enough about them to think it was anything else, anything more than just a perfect combination of flour and butter and eggs.
“But I can make things with other properties if desired. Among my kind, I’m a potion maker. Potions aren’t exactly common among normal humans, though. Thus the baked goods,” Seokjin smiled, waving his hand around the kitchen. Taehyung looked around too, though he wasn’t exactly sure why, before staring at the guy.
“Your kind?”
“Witches,” Seokjin said slowly, his brows furrowing.
“Right,” Taehyung said back just as slowly, watching Seokjin walking back to start cleaning up. He could actually hear the low rumble of Yoongi’s voice coming from the counter outside the kitchen as Seokjin clinked a few utensils around by throwing them into an already almost full sink and really wished he had his friend for backup. “So, um, about Dr. Kim?” Seokjin hummed and rubbed his hands on his apron for a few moments before nodding and coming to lean against the counter next to Taehyung.
“Dr. Kim, believe it or not, was my professor at one point, too, though not like your ethics class.”
“Oh my god, did you go to Hogwarts?” Taehyung said all in one breath, but Seokjin only rolled his eyes.
“That’s a fictional place. And, no, don’t you think you would have heard if there was a school for magic?”
“Well, maybe,” Taehyung shrugged, swinging his legs back and forth. “Except no, because if you have magic, you could keep it secret from people. Like in Harry Potter.”
“Again, fictional, but good point,” Seokjin smiled. “But no, we are instructed and warned to keep our magic very secret. There are a whole bunch of rules. And yes, you do have to be officially registered. And yes, you could have magic without knowing it, though it’s usually really apparent by the time you’re a teen. And no,” Seokjin said as Taehyung looked at him, “you do not have magic.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. Magic affects normal humans differently. I held your lost pendant for over a day and felt nothing because it was made for you, someone without magic. No, you can’t learn magic if you don’t have it. You are born with it or not. We also, as witches, have what you might call specialties. I can really only do potion making.”
“What does—what about Dr. Kim?” Taehyung said, unable to stop his curiosity even if he was highly wary of accepting everything Seokjin was saying.
“He has time magic.”
“Oh my god, like Doctor Who?”
“No, Taehyung, no,” Seokjin sighed before groaning. “Except I guess yes, only in the sense that he can control time to a certain extent.”
“Oh,” Taehyung pouted for a second before perking back up, wincing as he hit his finger on the side of the counter in his excitement. “Is that why he taught you? I mean, he must be super old even though he doesn’t look like it.” Seokjin nodded, smiling as if he was proud Taehyung figured it out.
“He is. Hundreds of years as far as I know. He’s one of the most powerful witches I know. In the world, in fact.”
“Then why—what the fuck is he doing teaching college philosophy?” Taehyung huffed, and Seokjin laughed loudly before settling down.
“He’s always been a teacher, so I don’t think it’s too abnormal.”
“Okay but, then, why did you say that thing about him being strong? You had looked so, I don’t know,” Taehyung fidgeted, “flustered in the hallway.”
“Oh,” Seokjin said, the red on his face clearly not from the heat of the kitchen, “I used to, uh, have a thing for him. There’s something about him, you humans may call it an aura, that had always drawn me in. It was a little overwhelming until I learned to control it.”
“Ew,” Taehyung stuck out his tongue in fake disgust, trying to imagine the two before shutting down his brain temporarily to stop the idea. Seokjin looked better with Yoongi. “That’s gross. He could be your great-great-great-great-great grandad for all you know.”
“Okay, no,” Seokjin said, raising a finger.
“Besides, Yoongi,” Taehyung said, lifting his own finger to point behind him in the direction of his friend. Seokjin looked slightly pained for a moment, and Taehyung lowered his finger quickly, feeling oddly guilty. “Wait, does Yoongi have magic? Or does he not know he does? Are you, I mean, is there some weird draw you feel to him, too?”
“You don’t miss much, do you?” Seokjin mumbled before lifting himself off of the counter and sighing. “Yoongi does not have magic, but yes. There’s something about him. I just don’t want to scare him away. He’s actually pretty easily spooked.”
“Okay,” Taehyung said slowly, hopping off the counter. “If that was true, I doubt he’d be watching so many horror movies lately.” Seokjin didn’t smile, which wasn’t a good look for him, and stared in what Taehyung knew was Yoongi’s direction. “You should just tell him,” Taehyung said softly, but Seokjin only shook his head before his brows narrowed. “Seokjin?” The witch baker lifted a finger, which was rude in Taehyung’s opinion, but he shut his mouth and followed Seokjin’s gaze. He couldn’t hear Yoongi’s low mumble anymore. He couldn’t hear anything, actually, except the occasional ticking of the oven staying heated. Taehyung felt his muscles tighten and his eyes glanced at his phone sitting on the counter. He half expected it to start ringing, or for the pendants beside it to start shaking. He expected the oven to explode or for Seokjin’s fingers to start sparkling. He expected something magical to happen, but instead he almost tripped as he reached for his phone and hurried to follow after Seokjin who wasn’t flying or even floating out of the kitchen but was moving faster than Taehyung expected.
It’s a little unclear what Taehyung was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that random guy in the bright blue jacket to be standing behind the counter with a knife dripping with blood in his hand as if he was waiting for them.
“What the fuck?” Taehyung said, trying to push past Seokjin but feeling the man grip his arm so fiercely he let himself be stopped.
“Kwanyoon,” Seokjin said, his fingers tensing noticeably on Taehyung’s arm so much he wanted to tell him it hurt, but he bit his tongue, knowing he wasn’t the one who was in danger.
“Seokjin,” the man said overly sweetly, his voice so sugary it spilled out like a disgusting syrup that made Taehyung want to gag. The two men clearly knew each other, though Seokjin’s tone and body language was enough to tell Taehyung that the baker was not pleased to see the other, which only led Taehyung to conclude that the man was also a witch. And, based on the way Yoongi was laying crumpled at his feet, Taehyung had a hunch he was what one might call a “bad” witch. “Where’s Jimin?” the man said, still smiling.
“What the fuck?” Taehyung said again, looking between Seokjin and Yoongi and whoever this new arrival was, because, really, what else was he expected to say in such a situation?
A/N:
AH!
A cliff-hanger!
HANG IN THERE, YOONGI!
Also, who dis? Who Kwanyoon? Why he want to know where Jimin is? What happening?
