#but I think I reached him while also saying this toad behavior will not stand

[itspileofgoodthings]

I don’t love my teenage boy students more than the others but their breakthroughs are sooooo much harder and therefore that much more satisfying

[hpdabbles]

Lost Traditions

He shouldn’t ask. He should just walk right by. There is no need to be involved in whatever this was. It was best for him if he kept his route undisturbed. Really. 

“What are you doing?” 

The words left his mouth before he knew it and Sasuke hated himself for it. 

Naruto jerks in place utterly surprised by his presence, out in the middle Konoha’s thickest and darkest forest. Well besides the ones used for training but these ones used far less than those ones, which is why Sasuke like walking them. It was the place he went to when he to have some alone time from his family and all the expectations that nearly suffocated him. 

 The idiot lost his balance, tumbling backward from the stole he crouched down on while the book he had been writing feverishly writing into fell into the barrel of oldy colored green goo. 

Sasuke watches it sink into the liquid with a morbid fascination. The pages didn’t either, instead, it almost seems as if the paper was absorbed into the gloo, a loud popping bubble it’s send-off as it meets its end.  

“No! My notes! How am I supposed to do it now!?”  Naruto cries. He stands abruptly seemingly unaware of the multi-color glitter clinging to his every being nor the fact that he was dressed in what seemed to be a cat onesie  “I don’t remember the order Kurama!”

The Uchiha watched as the blond boy stuffed his hands into the goo, completely ignoring his classmate. He shifts about desperately but it was obvious that what he was searching for had sunk further down then his short arms could reach.  It was an impressive barrel about a head bigger than both boys- or maybe two for Naruto seeing as the blond was smaller than anyone in their class. Itachi always claims it was a bad diet that lacks far too many vegetables but Sasuke barely believes that because his brother always tried to make Sauske eat his own after stating it.- he did, however, rush forward when the stool starts to dangerously tilt over.

If he fell from that hight he could get hurt, and even though they weren’t exactly friends Sasuke would never make an Uchiha Policeman if he just let him get injured right in front of him like that. 

His hand curled around one of the legs in the exact moment Naruto nose-dived forward with a loud cry. The goo splashed everywhere, covering Sasuke with whatever it was the other boy swam about in.

“Mom is going to have my head...” The poor child moan already thinking of just how his very proper and clean mother would react. Not to mention what his father would do when he learns of Sasuke tarnishing the Uchiha name by being seen in public like this. 

He let go off the stool to whip the green out of his eyes, some of the heavy stuff falling to the ground a loud wet splash and covering his ankles.  Just then Uzumaki popped out of the water, his outfit ruin beyond repair shouting loudly  “Victory!”

He waved his little notebook about, and Sasuke’s temple twitch.  

“You idiot! What were you thinking, jumping like that! You can’t even read those pages anymore!” He shouts his own frustration being dirty bleeding into his voice. Naruto blinks at him, his wide blue eyes almost taking over his face. Sasuke notes the near void look in them and fights the urge to shiver.

Some of the other children whisper that something is just not right with the blond. Sasuke never had a chance to speak to him- it was like every time they cross paths something or someone got in the way stopping any attempts of conversation- but he had noticed.  

For example, Naruto would often be sent outside into the hallway for nothing. Instead of being bothered by it he would skip right outside but not before giving the teacher a kind phrase and a gentle Don’t worry. I know you need something to be angry at. I forgive you.

If anything that seems make the teachers more upset. Other students roll their eyes or shook their head at him, thinking he was being stupid but Sasuke always found it odd how sure Naruto sounded. It wasn’t a kid back talking a teacher it was something more. 

When he brought up at the dinner table both his parents had gotten quite then forbid him to repeat that ever again. 

“Oh, you’re in my class!” The boy chirp and Sasuke briefly wonder if he was a genjustu prodigy. Because the Uchiha could have sworn he just saw flowers floating about Naruto’s head. “Uchiha Sasuke right? I’m Uzumaki Naruto!”

“I know. You’re the idiot that pulls pranks all the time” he grunts. If anything that seems to make Naruto much happier, beaming at him and causing more flowers to appear. 

“Yup that’s me!”  

He really shouldn’t sound proud of that.  Really Sasuke regrets ever straying off the path from his hike. He should have just gone home

“What are you doing anyway?” 

“Namikaze family tradition” Naruto’s answer is part air and part laughter  “It’s traditional to do it ever seven years!” 

Sasuke’s eyebrow rises. He’s never heard of the Namikaze clan but everyone knows about the deceased Fourth Hokage after all the Kyubbi Festeble always ended with a firework show dedicated to the man. What was Naruto doing celebrating the previous Kage’s traditions?  

The blond seemed to realize something before holding one finger up to his lips, smiling a smile that seemed almost predatory  “But don’t tell anyone okay Sasuke? It’s a secret”

A kid a head shorter than him, dress as a cat and sitting a pool of goo should not be intimidating but somehow it was. He swallowed down the fear that, appeared at Naruto’s near glowing blue eyes and nods unable to trust his voice. 

As sudden as the change of behavior arrive it goes away like wind blowing away smoke, leaving behind a smiling blond once more.  “Want to join? I have the steps for the ceremony. And you're already covered in the ceremonial seal containment- I mean juice!” 

He was planning on saying no and leaving but something about Naruto made it hard to deny him. 

Before he realizes it Sasuke was dragged into a family tradition he had no part being in and spent the rest of the afternoon helping Naruto create symbols across the floor while occasionally meowing. 

“Most people don’t know this but the Fourth’s family was really close to the Cat Ninja Clan. They gave the Uchiha passage to the Cat Fort as a sign of friendship some year in the Great Clan Wars.” Naruto explains smile wide as he sits in the middle of the circle they have drawn  “ They were one of the first clans to create Summon Contracts in fact.  Namikaze were once on par with sealing with clans like the Uzumaki, but while the Uzumaki used their seals for war and battle Namikaze focused more on medical terms and summons. Because of this, they weren’t really that famous seeing as medical ninjutsu didn’t develop until hundreds of years later and the contracts only work if the animal agrees to form a pact. It was actually seen as weak support seals instead of the value advantages it was. So people didn’t bother them when they started to summon animals at random seeing if a contract could be form- often times it was a weak race anyway. It turns into a coming of age tradition at age seven to summon something eventually but no one really knows when or why seven.”  

Sasuke stare at him not really sure where this sudden history lesson came from. Naruto didn’t seem to notice, happily patting down the goo all over his body  “It’s a tradition to rekindle the connection with those Summon Contracts seals and summon animals that close to a Namikaze’s soul. Even if no pact was formed, it’s still seen as a necessity to call them ever so often. The Fourth was toads maybe with all the exposal he had to them before he made his own coming of age ceremony. But today we learn what ours are!”

“I’m not a Namikaze” Sasuke felt the need to say head spinning by the long-winded sentences of Naruto. Did the guy not a breath between words?

The flap his wrist about with a dismissive smile “You don’t have to be. You just have to have a Namikaze present to help you call an animal through the dimensions. And use the juice to help you access your hidden chakra.”  

“We don’t have a Namikaze here.”

Naruto laughs loudly like Sasuke just said a joke.  “ Not that anyone is aware of.”

“Then this won’t work”

“It will”

“No it won’t”

“Yeah it will”  

He crosses his arms fed up with this weirdo  “How are you so sure?”

“The toads told me” 

Right.  Sasuke turns and leaves ignoring Naruto’s squawking. His parents were right, he should stay as far as possible from the Uzumaki. 

The next day in class Naruto gets in trouble for bringing a toad to class. He refuses to be separated with it even though it’s as big as his head and argues that he needed to be with it for a full week as that is what the toad told him to do. 

He also refuses to take off the cat onesie stating it was to honor the connects of history. The teacher is not amused by this at all.  

Sasuke sinks into his seat when he shouts  “Sasuke back me up on this! It’s important Dattebayo!” 

[evangelene]

Just Happened To Be (7)

Summary: Jimin was an asshole, yes. And you were supposed to be nice, meek, and afraid of people like him. But you weren’t; even with a knife at your throat you stayed quiet and unforgiving–and he wasn’t allowed to like it.

Based off this request:

“Anonymous said:So how about bad boy Jimin I mean that’s cool I guess cause I mean who need bad boy jimin right pft not me.”

Usual warnings . This is a drug gang fic so naturally there’s gonna be a lotta shit.

THANK YOU ALL FOR HOPPING ON THE JOURNEY OF THIS FIC. NOW ONTO THE NEXT FOR ME!! <3

Part One /  Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five/ Part Six

Jimin was not okay without you in his life.

Well, not that he was okay with you either--he was not what one would call a decent person, or at least a person that was capable of living on their own. At least you managed to keep him reigned in and free of most self-destructive behaviors. The simple fact that he loved you had a collar on the parts of him that were too wild for his own safety.

But you weren't there now to stop him from drinking himself into oblivion; you weren't there to keep him from running or screaming nonsense to the walls. At least the alcohol broke the boredom of being cooped up and dulled his memories to a blurry sludge. Yet, the alcohol wasn't able to stop him from seeing you as a physical presence in front of him, glitter eyes just begging him to--

He needed more booze.

Luckily, his friend--the one who owned the place he was holed up in--was good for both places to crash indefinitely and foreign liquor. Said friend also came and went and, currently on a job, could be gone anywhere from a couple hours to three months. His absence didn't help Jimin's current lack of self control for inhaling poison just to stop seeing you behind his eyelids.

Jimin leaned on the counter, smoothing his greasy hair off his forehead. He made a mental note to shower soon; he was starting to be able to feel the oil caking his skin. Absentmindedly, with the buzz of poison in his blood system, he reached for the whiskey again, taking a swig directly from the bottle.

It tasted like shit, but it burned his throat and erased the stardust from your ghost's eyes.

When he turned around, you were there again. This time it was a hallucination of you, broken and leaning against a wall for support.

You were hurt because of him.

Just like Sooyoung.

"Y/N." He slurred to the ghost--ghosts? Were there always two of you? "Don't look at me like that." But his voice didn't even sound like it belonged to him--he only knew he was speaking out loud because of the searing heat in his throat. "I did this all for you."

"J-J-J-Jimin."

"Please, don't say my name." He tried to walk towards you, but you were gone and he was tipping dangerously to the side. When he looked next to him, you were there again, grinning with that stupid, fat toad in your hands.

"Go home." He murmured, reaching out into the nothingness as if he actually believed he could touch you; Jimin hated how he wanted to. "Get away from here."

"--I'm falling in love with you!!"

He wanted to throw something, to break something--wanted to watch it smash to pieces. Maybe his anger would make you leave. Maybe if he showed this hallucination of you how far he was willing to go to protect you, you would finally see that what he was doing was for your own good.

"Me too." His voice was so broken, cracking in a way that had him gripping his neck in pain. "I'm in love with you too. So get out!" He screamed to a wall--where you might have been were he not entirely stupid drunk. "Go! Live your life without me in it; it's safer that way!" Jimin whirled around, nearly crashing to the ground with the sudden combination of whiplash and vertigo. "Get the fuck out of here! Don't let me be the thing that kills you! Please, please." He hissed, his hand snatching both the bottle of booze and his phone from the counter. Sober Jimin meant to throw the bottle, Drunk Jimin threw the phone.  Luckily, it dissipated your ghost and you were finally gone.

Unluckily, his phone splintered and he was staring at the pieces without a single fucking clue because, in his mind, he had thrown the whiskey.

"Good." He murmured, zombie toddling to the living room where he planned on watching television. In reality, he passed out drunk with a liquor bottle cradled to his chest.

He'd only realize his absolutely stupid as hell mistake when he woke up in the morning, considering he now had no way of contacting anyone and--since his only form of payment was on his phone's digital wallet--he had no money to get his ass back to his territory.

~.~

It took a month.

A month of Jimin sitting alone in an otherwise empty apartment waiting for his friend to return--he never did, at least while Jimin was there. A month of Jimin staring at the television, scrolling through news channels in the hopes that he wouldn't see names he recognized pop up dead. A month of Jimin pacing, leaving, searching, and returning to the same deafening walls of the apartment, fruitless. He had no idea how to get home.

It took a month for his damn phone to get fixed--mostly considering it had to be shipped elsewhere to be repaired and then shipped back to the apartment he was beginning to hate. Life without a phone would have been fine at any other point in time, but that phone was currently his only connection to his group and his shop--considering no one knew where he was and he was too stupid to remember numbers off the top of his head; he was fucked. That fucking phone was his only lifeline in sating his worry for you. He didn't even know if you were still looking for him, if you were still trying to bring him back. He hoped you weren't--but all the same he wanted to know if you were alright. If his members were still alive. If the shop was still standing. If Taehyung had finally kicked the bucket.

Jimin wanted to rip his hair out at the roots, scream and punch something for his own stupidity--but that wouldn't solve anything. That was the shit that got him into this mess to begin with.

And then finally, finally, a package arrived at the apartment--labeled for Park Jimin. He wasted no time in ripping it open, turning the damn thing on and immediately growling at the hundreds of missed calls, texts, and emails that littered the screen. It was a mess, more of a mess than his fucked up life. He scrolled through the near thousand notifications, trying to ignore the threats, pleads, insults, messages and more that he passed by until he arrived at the last thing he remembered reading.

He decided to start there, but he wound up stopping almost immediately. His hands tightened around the newly fixed phone, threatening to break it again.

She says she's going to go see Taehyung.

Alone.

It was a trick--it had to be a trick. A stupid, motherfucking trick to get his dumb ass back into the shop. It had to be. There was no way you were that idiotic to put yourself into a horrible situation like that again--not for something as moronically simple as wanting to see Jimin again. You were smarter than that. You had to be smarter than that.

He continued to scroll, stopping once more at a number he didn't recognize. When he opened up the conversation with this person, there was an abundance of missed calls, pictures and videos sent to Jimin. For some reason, Jimin couldn't force himself to open them. Not yet. He felt that, if he did, all willpower would vanish in an instant. If he did, he would give up any chance at keeping you safe just to smotheringly stay by your side, murdering anyone who looked at you for longer than five seconds. And you know, if he was going to give up on staying away to be with you, then he probably should start off with a bit of a healthier relationship than jealous, easily-triggered gang boy and innocent girl.

So, instead, he exited out of the unknown conversation and clicked on Namjoon's number.

"Jimin?" He could practically hear his hyung relax in relief. "Jesus Christ, where the hell have you been? Do you ever answer your fucking phone?"

"I uh..." Jimin rubbed the back of his neck, cringing at the floor. If he was in Namjoon's place, he'd probably be equally--if not more so--pissed. "I kind of broke it in a drunken fit. It just got done being fixed."

Namjoon sighed; Jimin could practically hear him massaging out a knot in his shoulder. "God damnit, Yoongi was going insane thinking you were attacked or dead or something. He'll be happy to know that you were just a dumbass, as per usual."

"Oh yeah? I'm fine too you know, just living in a dingy apartment and starving to death because I didn't have money."

"You think any of this is my fault, asshole? You're the one that made those decisions, now live with them." Namjoon hissed, ending on a sigh that resonated from the depths of his chest. "I'm glad to know you're safe though. When I called Nana, she worried enough to send people out looking for you--and not a damn person could find you. I was starting to get worried enough to call the police."

"No you weren't." Jimin snorted, shaking his head. "How--" He paused, running his tongue along his top teeth. "How're things there?"

"We're fine. Better now that we know you're good." Namjoon chuckled darkly, his nails clacking on the computer; he must've been at the shop. "But that's not what you were wondering, was it."

Jimin said nothing, his hand fisting into the fabric of his sweatpants.

"I don't have good news for you, unfortunately. We don't know where she is."

Jimin swallowed, his head tilting back to stare at the dots of the ceiling. "You haven't seen or heard from her at all? It's been a month?" It was pathetic the way his voice cracked.

"After I forced Yoongi to let her go, we haven't heard anything from her. Yoorin came rushing in two days after she left, about ready to knock someone out. She hadn't heard from her either."

"Not even now?"

"Well, she got a call about a week ago. It's the only reason my head is still on my shoulders--apparently Y/N wanted to tell Yoorin that she was fine but not us."

Jimin couldn't respond to that, because there was only one reason he knew you wouldn't tell him or any of his members. You wanted Jimin to come out of hiding, and you didn't want Yoongi or the others to forcefully pull you from the danger you'd placed yourself in.

"I thought you told me she didn't do anything crazy." Namjoon chuckled humorlessly.

"She's still at Taehyung's, isn't she?" Jimin whispered, screwing his eyes shut.

"It's up to you, whether you want to get your ass back here and find her or just get your ass back here period. Either way, Yoongi says your time's up and you need to be here A.S.A.P. But, well--" Namjoon shouted something intelligible to what Jimin presumed was an angry leader. "--you know he chooses different words when this mad."

Jimin hung up before Namjoon could say anymore, his head dropping down to his phone in his lap. His fringe hung wild and disheveled from his furious fingers as he scrolled back to that damn unidentified number. For a minute, his finger hovered over the first attachment, part of him so fucking terrified of what he was about to see.

Then, without thinking, he pressed it.

It was a video.

"She's so cute when she's sleeping. Isn't she?"

Jimin hated that voice. The second it echoed out of his phone speaker he let out an inhuman growl, glaring at the screen.

Taehyung.

You were passed out, your face resting on an ice pack. It was too zoomed in for Jimin to tell if your wrists were bound, but based on the dried blood on your forehead, he assumed that you were.

Taehyung's thumb brushed across your brow, wiping away some of the blood. "Whoops." He whispered. "How else was I supposed to react when such a precious thing walks into my place all on her lonesome?"

Jimin wanted to close his eyes to the image, but he couldn't. He felt like his eyes were taped open--forced to watch the trainwreck to the very end.

Taehyung lifted your head up off the desk, tilting your chin to give the camera a better look at the purpling skin that had been resting on the cold surface. "Jungkook's taken a shine to her as well--he was the one kind enough to help bring down the swelling." Taehyung chuckled. "I would have just it fester." The camera froze for a minute before it switched around to face the man in question himself.

Taehyung grinned at his phone. "You know, I'm thinking of keeping her. Can I, Jiminnie?" Taehyung laughed, the psychotic ring of it causing Jimin's body to tremble. "Ah, but you're the one that left I hear. So I suppose I don't have to ask for your permission."

The video ended, the replay button flashing on the screen.

Jimin scrolled up to the next message.

That one was just a picture of your back, bruises shaped like hands littering your neck.

The next was a video of you shouting something unintelligible in a dark screen.

After was a series of taunts in text message format from Taehyung--something along the lines of

I will take her from you.

You really don't want her?

Alright then.

Suit yourself.

Then there was a picture of you clutching your nose, blood spilling from your palm.

A picture of you trying to shove a camera out of your face.

A video of you trying to bite Taehyung's hand when it came near you.

And so on.

Jimin scrolled through them all--up to the last picture sent to him: one of you trying to duck away from the lens as Taehyung buried his face at the top of your head and grinned at the camera.

Jimin opened up the contact button and pressed the call button.

It rang twice before that damn voice that he hated more than anything or anyone else reverberated through his phone.

"You're calling now? After how long? Honestly, I had higher hopes than this, Jiminnie."

Jimin ignored him, flashes of those images and videos forever burned into his memory. "What do you want with her, Taehyung? I know you have her."

Taehyung let out laughter that had Jimin's skin crawling. "Aren't you late to the party?"

"Where. Is. She?"

"Under my thumb." Taehyung chuckled, the phone crackling as he shifted. "Don't worry loverboy. She's still alive and kicking and pinching. That damn girl could tear off all my skin with those two fingers, you know that? But at least she's cute. Honestly, I think I'm in love."

His laughter only increased in pitch as Jimin snarled into the phone. "You're not capable of such human emotion. If you hurt her, I swear to god I will--"

"You believe in god now?"

"I want to talk to her. Now, Taehyung."

"Shut up." The coldness to his voice was startling compared to the previous teasing; it shouldn't have surprised Jimin, but it did. "You're the one that left her, not me. She came to me and so now she's mine. Simple as that, unlike you I'm not weak enough to let my things go that easily."

"She's not a thing."

"Everything in my house is a thing--person or not." Taehyung chuckled. "But I think she's become promoted to treasure now."

"Shut the fuck up!" Jimin shouted, the veins in his neck popping. "There's no way in hell you like her!"

"Oh? You want to bet?"

"You're going to get her killed."

Taehyung let out a bark of a laugh that sounded more hyena than human. "You're the one that let her walk into my hands; so none of this is really my fault now, is it?"

"Put her on the fucking phone, Taehyung."

"She's asleep." His voice got further away, undoubtedly checking over his shoulder to make sure you were where you were supposed to be. "I think she's cute like this; I'm not going to wake her."

"I. Want. To--"

"Nope." Taehyung practically sang on a laugh. "Stupid, you don't get to make decisions. You're there and I'm here--think loverboy, think. If I really wanted to torture you I would have killed her. So be thankful that she captured my interest enough to keep her alive. You're welcome."

"You can't keep her there forever. She's in love with me, when she finds out I'm back she'll--"

"You honestly think that I can't break that out of her?" Taehyung snorted. "Man you really are as dumb as they come."

Jimin's hand tightened on the phone, focusing on slowing his breathing down just so he didn't break the damn thing. "Please."

"Please what? Use your words, Jiminnie."

Jimin felt a muscle in his eye twitch. "Please don't hurt her."

"Mm, then you better get here fast, yeah?"

"Fuck you." Jimin spat.

Taehyung let out a horrible laugh that had Jimin slamming his fist into the ground. "If only I swung that way."

"You're disgusting."

"Mm. Nothing I haven't been told before. While you're on your way, how about you come up with a better insult?"

Jimin hung up before Taehyung could come up with more salt to rub into his wounds, shoving his phone in the depths of his backpack before rushing around the apartment to grab the few other things that he had with him. Without a glance back, he ran out of the apartment.

~.~

Jimin stopped the cab the second they got stuck in a patch of traffic, pulling out his phone to quickly pay the driver before tumbling out the door and bolting down the street. He was lucky that the traffic was smack dab in the middle of Taehyung's territory--luckier still that he actually knew the streets enough around there to get his ass to Taehyung's bar.

Jimin liked to think himself fast, but, for some reason he felt so incredibly slow. No matter what he did, his feet just couldn't move him fast enough. No matter how hard his breath knifed through his lungs, no matter how much his muscles screamed, it seemed like, to him, the streets only grew longer and the bar only got farther and farther away.

"Jimin." Sooyoung held her side, breathing heavily even though it seemed difficult for her to get air into her lungs. Her free hand held her from falling face first into the ground despite already sitting on it. With her eye not swollen shut, she stared at him with the eyes that have long since lost any sort of light that may have been in them. "You came for me." It was practically a gasp, blood leaking through her fingertips.

"Always." He whispered, bending down to try and help even though he didn't know where to begin.

She chuckled humorlessly, her voice cracking. "I wish I had been strong enough to choose you."

"Me too." He tried to reach for her, to hook her arm over his shoulders, but she shoved him away with her one good hand, crashing down into the concrete. It was pathetic how helpless she was now; pathetic how the girl who cast him under a spell with one look was now dying on the street and begging her lover to save her in the only way she knew how.

"Kill me." She whispered, her body shaking. "Just kill me, Jimin."

"Please--"

"Just do it." She hissed, fingers digging deeper into her side.

"Don't ask me to do that--Sooyoung, please--"

The toe of his shoe skipped on the concrete and he had to stop himself from tumbling to the ground, barely regaining his balance before picking up his hopelessly slow speed once more.

"J-J-J-Jimin!! T-T-T-Thank you."

"For what?" He curled his lip at you over his shoulder, staring at you like you were absolutely crazy.

"B-B-B-B-Being you."

"You're fucking stupid."

You only smiled. "Y-Y-Y-Y-You too."

His side hurt, his whole body hurt. He was so slow--he thought that you were the one that was supposed to be slow. You were the one that was supposed to be good, that was supposed to stay inside and give up your search for him. You weren't supposed to go to the person who tried to kill you; you weren't supposed to risk everything on a chance that maybe he would come back to save you.

But he would.

Always.

And maybe you truly were smart, because you'd figured that out before he could himself.

"You're hopeless Jimin." She whispered against his skin. "What are you going to do when I never return?"

There was a pain in his chest that he tried to blame on running but couldn't. Instead, he just ran harder, his backpack slamming a rhythm against his spine that threatened to bruise in the morning.

He couldn't find it in him to care; the bar was now in his line of sight.

Taehyung strolled back into view with a syringe needle full of some impossibly green drug, placing it in Jungkook's palm before stepping towards you. It was almost loving the way Taehyung's hand curved around your cheek, the way he tilted you head up to tower over you and stare down at your unconscious face. It was almost loving the way his thumb brushed across your skin.

Almost.

"Give her another dose."

"J-J-Jimin!"

Your voice stopped him in his tracks, causing him to skid to a crashing halt. His hands skipped across the ground as he fell to his knees, breathing heavily to the concrete as his head flew up to spot you coming up from behind him, running with a plastic sac from the nearby convenience market slung around your elbow. He felt that you were a mirage, some alcohol induced hallucination. But he hadn't been drinking and your ghost never spoke to him so clearly before.

"J-J-J-Jimin!" You screamed again in worry as you got closer. But you didn't stop; you didn't freeze in front of him like he did in front of you. You barreled into him, slamming into the ground plastic bag of snacks and medicine and all. It was with your arms around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder that his stone self cracked and his arms instinctively slid around you.

You were warm. You were real. You were alive.

And you were wearing shorts?

"Are you fucking nuts? What the hell were you thinking going to Taehyung's by yourself?" He hissed, his heart crashing against his sternum despite the fact that he couldn't begin to figure out how to loosen his grip on you. "And what the hell are you wearing?"

You pulled back, finding yourself sitting on his lap--you didn't seem to care and neither did he. "A-A-About that--I...well...f-f-first the s-s-shorts. I k-ki-kinda fi-fi-figured that i-if y-y-you could lo-lo-love me th-th-then I c-c-could learn t-to lo-lo-love myself a b-bi-bit m-more too." You paused, wincing down at your own arms that refused to let go of him. "I m-mean, if y-y-you still d-do."

He curled his hand around the back of your neck, fingers gingerly pressing into your skull to pull you towards him. Despite the fact that he wanted to kiss you senseless, he forced himself to press his lips to your forehead instead.  He couldn't get carried away; you were still in danger--Taehyung--

"Of course I do." He whispered against your skin.

"A-About T-T-Taehy--" You were cut off by a sudden pair of arms around your waist, ripping you up and away from Jimin's grasp and into another chest that was not--to his own fury--Jimin's. Jimin stared at those arms, at the way those glitter eyes of yours looked up and behind you in surprise, at the way Taehyung looked down at you with eyes that--

Oh hell no.

"Not so fast." Taehyung grinned, resting his chin at the top of your head. "After all, she was out with me to begin with."

You rolled your eyes, your foot repeatedly stamping down on Taehyung's toes to seemingly no avail. "I-I--J-Jimin th-th-this--"

"Ah, Y/N, babe, you should be careful of what you say. You know you want to let him down gently--"

"S-S-Shut up!" You glared over your shoulder in a way that had jealousy snaking knots in Jimin's gut. He wanted nothing more than to rip you away from Taehyung, maybe break each and every finger on his hands until they were a crumpled mess. But what stabbed Jimin the most was the way that you bickered with his asshat of an ex-bestfriend--it was too similar to the way you spoke to him. It was the sort of friendly annoyance that Jimin had believed was reserved for him and him alone.

But, the thing that kept Jimin in his place was the fact that the glitter left your eyes the moment they met Taehyung's face.

Your fingers dug into Taehyung's arm--an arm that looked like it'd received plenty of your attention for the past month--but he appeared immune to that as well. "L-L-Let go of m-m-me! Y-Y-You're gi-giving him the w-wr-wr-wrong idea!"

Much to your annoyance, Taehyung's arms only tightened around you. "Come on babe; let me mess with him just a bit."

"I-I-I am not y-y-your 'b-babe'." You snarled, making the mistake of turning and looking to Jimin for help. And oh was Jimin all too willing to help.

The male was up off the ground in an instant, yanking you free from Taehyung's grasp only to throw a punch across Taehyung's face that had the bar owner toppling back to the ground in front of Jimin. Your hands were on Jimin's bicep, trying to pull him away from Taehyung before he could land in a kick or two--or kill him.

And Jimin really wanted to kill him.

"S-S-Stop it J-Jimin!" You shouted, keeping a tight hold on his arm. "L-L-Let me e-explain!"

"Please." Jimin groaned to the sky, rolling his head to stare at you through his fringe with murderous puppy dog eyes. "Please let me kill him. He almost killed you twice and he kept you captive for a month and sent me horrible pictures and videos of you hurt and unconscious and--"

You shook your head, confusion furrowing your brow and crinkling your nose. "W-W-Wait, w-w-what?"

Taehyung only laughed a hyena laugh from the ground.

"T-T-Taehyung! W-W-What did yo-yo-you do?!"

"I just tortured him a bit. I mean he deserved it, don't you think."

You glared at Taehyung, speechless as you rubbed your forehead with your free hand. "I--ah. J-J-Jimin." You sighed, waving your hand at Taehyung. "Y-Y-You explain. I-I, gah, I-I'm tired."

"Aww, but I want to hear your--" Taehyung stopped at your pointed stare, sighing up at Jimin. "Yah, she's going to have this whole country whipped by the time she's 40."

"I believe she told you to explain." Jimin snapped, his lip curling instinctively.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "Blah blah blah. Can you calm your hormones for a minute? Those pictures were accidents. I got a little violent during her forced rehab. Can you blame me though? One second this girl just comes walking in and I think she's just going to let me play games with you only to find out she's figured out my secrets."

"T-Taehyung." You warned.

"Ah. Right. Rehab. You see, my brother had done a lot of shit in his life--a lot of horrible crap to people and to me. But I loved him right? I mean, he was my brother. I wanted to be like him, so I took the same drugs he did--some hardcore shit that I forced Seokjin to make for me after my brother's death because I was so fucking addicted. Apparently, that shit made out to be psychotic. Or so I hear." Taehyung's eyes were clear for once when they met Jimin's. There wasn't that glaze of amused insanity, that unpredictable temperament that made the entire city afraid of him.

For a minute, Jimin could almost believe that this was his best friend again--just a little more fucked up in the head than he was as a kid. Jimin was surprised by how much he'd wanted to see Taehyung's eyes clear again.

But the second your hand squeezed his arm, Jimin was brought back down to the reality that he had become accustomed to. This was a person who had done monstrous things--things that Jimin couldn't forget. Not now, not after what he did to you.

"Did you really think I'd believe that bull?"

"J-J-Jimin." You forced him to look down to you, your glitter eyes shining and ah--yes, he was right; those were reserved for him. "It's t-t-true. I s-s-saw him ta-ta-taking them and I...I t-thought m-m-maybe I could he-he-help him--"

"You're too stupid sometimes Y/N." Jimin whispered. "I--you could have gotten yourself killed."

"But she didn't." Taehyung murmured, pushing himself up to his feet as he rubbed his reddening and aching jaw. "And I owe her my life because of her blind stupidity."

"There's no way you're just 'all good' now." Jimin snapped over his shoulder, not bothering to even look at Taehyung. "You can't fix what hasn't been there for years and years now." His hand found your cheek; fingers working up to gingerly touch a fresh scar above your brow. "I left to keep you safe, and this--he did this didn't he?"

"T-T-The drugs." You whispered. "I-I-It was h-h-his ad-ad-ad-addiction. Not him."

"Y/N, I left for you--it was all for--"

You smacked his chest, straightening out your spine. "No. Y-Y-You don't g-g-get to pr-pr-pretend like w-w-what you d-did was for m-me. Y-Y-You left be-be-because you w-w-were afr-afraid. Not m-me."

"I can't lose you." He whispered. "Don't you see that? I--I won't make it if I lose you."

"And you won't--lose her I mean." Taehyung brushed the dirt off his pants. "She's got your group's protection, Nana's freakin angelic wings, and she's got my territory watching out for her as well."

"Yours?" Jimin raised an eyebrow, both of your gazes turning towards the other man.

He shrugged. "I told you, I owe her. Besides--" Taehyung's grin had Jimin's fist itching to ram into his face again. "She's going to come and work at my place once a week."

"Hell no." Jimin snarled.

"Y-Y-Y-You don't g-g-get a s-s-say." Jimin's gaze snapped to you once more; the look you gave him dared him to even try and refuse again. "I am m-m-my own per-per-person. Plus," you raised one eyebrow at him, unable to hide the smirk on your face. "I-I'm st-st-still single."

Jimin rolled his tongue along his teeth, the corners of his lips twitching. "Is that so? Then I shouldn't have busted my ass to save yours, right?"

"Y-Y-You should've st-st-stayed." You shrugged, stepping just out of his reach as if you knew he was planning to pull you close again.

"Ah. Well, that means I should go visit Nana in the red light district, huh?"

You waved him away. "I-I d-d-don't control you."

"You don't?"

"Yah!" Taehyung shouted. "Just kiss already!"

And who was Jimin to say no to such a tempting offer, especially when you grinned and allowed him to circle his arms around you. Freely, without worry that what he was about to do would wind up being your downfall, Jimin showed you just how much he missed and worried about you while was gone.  

~.~

Jimin reached over Namjoon to grab the stencil off the service desk, disposable gloves in one hand as the bell to the shop rang with an incoming guest. He took one look up before nudging Namjoon with his elbow. "Hey." He grinned. "Your client is here."

Namjoon only rolled his eyes as Jimin walked back towards his tattooing chair, ignoring the shouts and guffaws of annoyance.

"You know I'm not here to get another piercing asshole!" Yoorin shouted from the entrance, letting herself in towards the back parlor of the shop to chase after Jimin who was running about as fast as one could with a fragile sketch in a tattoo shop.

"Aw, come on--can't I tease you a bit Rinrin?" Jimin chuckled as he flopped himself down in his chair and grabbed an alcohol wipe from his desk. He swiveled around to clean the skin of your exposed back, feeling the vibrations of your giggle run up through his fingers

"Don't fucking call me that." She hissed, making her way over towards you two, her glare fixating on the fact that you were not wearing a shirt--despite the fact that you were face down in a chair. "Ah, my protective instincts are kicking in. Call someone here for me to beat up in your stead, Jimin."

"How about Taehyung?" He grinned up at her, dodging her incoming smack as he reached for his stencil. He leaned down towards your ear as he aligned the drawing to your skin. "Don't you think the two of them would make a good pair?" He chuckled, breath fanning across your cheek.

You lifted your head to face him, glitter eyes absolutely sparkling as you grinned at him. "Th-they w-w-would b-b-be so cute." You murmured back.

"I heard that!" Yoorin shouted. "You're lucky you're about to tattoo my best friend. Any other time and I'd leave a permanent mark on that face of yours."

"Hey she agreed to it too!"

"Well, I like her more than I like you." Yoorin shot back.

Jimin rolled his eyes, until the weight of what he was about to do was started to sink in and he felt the tattoo butterflies turn into a swarm of bees in his stomach. It wasn't until he pulled the stencil paper away from your skin and grabbed his needle that he felt the sudden urge to cancel the appointment all together; usually, he only got that feeling when he was the one being tattooed. For some reason, doing you, he felt like he was going to taint something too perfect and pristine--even though the path from your bicep, up across your back and to your other bicep was littered with scars. He didn't want to fuck it up, and with your skin bare before him, he felt like he was going to shake.

You seemed to have a knack for sensing his nerves, because you hooked your finger and had him leaning down towards you in an instant. "J-J-Jimin," You whispered, "I t-t-trust you."

It was only with that confirmation that he found himself able to start the needle. He paused for a minute, bending to press a kiss to your scarred spine as a good luck charm before sitting properly and pressing the tool to your skin, starting the first line.

"Hey!" Yoorin screamed, glaring at him. "That's unprofessional!"

But you lightly smacked her with the arm he was not tattooing, causing her to pout painting on the wall with a hidden smile. Jimin couldn't have cared less about Yoorin's outrage; he was more focused on the way your ears reddened. He was proud to be the cause. He was proud to be the person that made you believe in love again; and now you were going to have fire wings to show the strength in the weakness of falling for a boy who just happened to be in a gang--well, for now.

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 39 – The Isles of Labyrinth and Sweets

“You know, they say silence is golden regardless of country and era. But I doubt that is the best solution for you right now,” said Muzaka, seated in his throne.

Normally not even a head researcher can find himself before the werewolf lord’s throne. Not unless he happens to be a warrior as well. And not unless he has accomplished something worthy of a proper recognition. And not unless he has committed something terribly wrong.

And unfortunately, Adne was summoned for the lattermost case.

He sabotaged a part essential for bringing QuadraNet to life; at least that is what they could visually deduce.

So Muzaka decided to bring him before the throne for a talk.

Frankenstein was not far away from him, focusing his gaze upon a bald brown-haired werewolf, kneeled and slumped.

“I’m not gonna ask again, so do you mind filling me in now? Just what were you doing there? And how come the network transmission modem is utterly annihilated?”

Muzaka’s voice grew sharper, colder. Not even a toddler would be able to miss that he was basically screaming in Adne’s face that he cannot guarantee they will stick to words if silence continues.

Notwithstanding, Adne kept his mouth shut, making Muzaka sigh in edgy frustration.

And that was when Frankenstein finally spoke.

“I’ll cut right to the point, Dr. Adne. Whose side are you on?”

His manner or purpose of speech was nothing short of a definition of an inquiry. However, Adne’s face rippled with fear and disorder, as if he were demanded to slice his throat and kill himself on the spot.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? You sound like...”

“Forgive me, sir. I know it sounds like I am suspecting your doctor. And yes, I AM suspecting him.”

“How can you say that when I’m right he...”

“I know. It’s not a pleasure to your ears. But think about it. I’m sure you already have an experience with betrayal from within.”

“But you don’t have any evidence that proves Adne did betra...”

“It’d be best to not to rule out any option for now.”

Muzaka’s eyes were brewing complaints at him, but he could not properly file any of them, for Frankenstein did have a point.

“...I...”

Just then a voice as feeble as a dying puppy’s last breath hit the two tall, long-haired, gorgeous men in the eardrums.

“I had to...”

“...I had to?”

“...I had to destroy it.”

Instantly Muzaka and Frankenstein curved their brows in a vicious angle in synchronization.

“...So you deliberately broke the thing?”

“N-no, sir! I mean, yes, I intended to destroy it, but... By the time I got there, I had to make sure that... I, I mean...!”

Muzaka and Frankenstein waited for Adne to coordinate his tongue and brain together, until he clenched his eyelids tightly and groveled.

“My lord. Frankenstein, sir. I know I am asking for an unspeakable, but please, I beg you. We must abort this project!”

“Are you talking about THE project?”

“Yes, sir. We must abort it. The QuadraNet must never spark with life!”

“What are you saying? What is with you today? You never miss your chance to see Frankenstein, since there is so much you can learn from him, you said. But today you left everything for me to handle. And you didn’t give us an exact reason for destroying the modem. And now you’re demanding that we abort the QuadraNet project.”

“My lord, I’m afraid I can’t give you details for now. But please, you must listen to me just this once.”

Adne pled as Frankenstein and Muzaka gaped at him with mystified eyes.

It was as if they were watching the final follower of a tyrant-turning-more-tyrannical to please be the sovereign he is supposed to be.

However, neither of them knew what has gotten into the doctor, so they could only hint questions with their eyes, until Adne said with quivering lips, like a distraught knight about to expose his one-and-only-brother-in-arms-now-a-traitor and save his lord from a planned assassination.

“If you are to continue this project...!”

Right then his throat heaved, and Adne spat out chest-rending coughs, to soon yield dark red vomit.

“Adne!!!”

Muzaka screeched, and Frankenstein lunged forward.

He tore his clothes and blocked Adne’s mouth, before he scooped him up in his arms.

“To the lab! Quick!”

Frankenstein could not fathom what was going on.

‘His physical shift occurred too fast, too extreme to be a threat or a suicidal attempt. And talk about the rate at which his blood exploded from within. If he were a human, he would’ve lost a good amount of his guts. In other words, what could set off such a reaction from a werewolf?’

Alas, he was not allowed time to think.

He had to give orders to the researchers upon reaching the lab.

And decide it would be best for him to look after Adne himself.

And diagnose that there is no telling when Adne will wake up, after laying him in the ward.

Frankenstein, along with Muzaka, could only replay in his head what he had witnessed.

‘Is it just me, or are things taking a weird turn ever since we started the QuadraNet project?’

Frankenstein lamented inaudibly, tracing his forehead with his fingers while no one was watching.

Union invasion on wolfkind.

The mysterious behavior of the Man in the Iron Mask on the werewolf realm.

Postponement of QuadraNet’s activation, for a reason nobody knows yet.

And now Adne’s mysterious state.

Frankenstein felt as if he were trapped in the isle of labyrinth, running circles in a trail without an exit.

*****

Meanwhile...

Pow!!!

Bam!!!

A man resembling a toad injected with tons of steroids was flung into the air, his feet completely removed from the ground.

His body arched in the exact same posture when he was punched in the abdomen, he thoroughly shattered the wall on the other side.

“I dare you to say that again.”

Growled the one who threw him in the air with a single blow, her heels clicking towards him.

In the meantime, he was rolling his eyes as if he had no idea what he ever did wrong.

Nevertheless, he could clearly see that the rest of his day would be hell if he does not appear remorseful, so Kornel lowered his head in a reply.

“I... I found Yuigi of Cerberus hidden among civilians by chance, so... I decided to take her with me, and...”

“Nobody ever asked you to do that! I never told you to do that! I told you to simply stand guard on the area!”

“But it was an opportunity no one among us would want to mi...!”

“A human head is more than just a concoction of calcium, proteins, and nucleic acid. I told you to avoid skirmish in that country! We should be most wary of that place, not Lukedonia, not the werewolves! That’s where the ones who killed Crombel are stationed! I told you a number of times that you should really watch yourself in Korea!”

Kornel zipped his lips and merely stared at her.

“And since Yuigi was living in hiding among civilians, I’m sure you had to raise more than a clash at such time and place. I sent you there to monitor how the honey that will fill our jar ripens, but instead you ended up setting fire on the hive that should provide us with the honey.”

Helga glared at him, as if she wished to punch him again.

‘My so-called accomplice suddenly lost contact, which bothers me enough, and then this ally of mine just had to...!’

Helga raised her voice again, feeling how her annoyance was throwing a fit inside her.

“You should be grateful that we are in deadly need of manpower right now. Otherwise I would have officially terminated you instead of pummeling you into a wall!”

Kornel strained his forehead and corners of lips, feeling gravely offended by her words.

Helga did not even look at him as she spoke again.

“So what do you have?”

“Uh... Say that again?”

“I’m starting to think perhaps your ears are there just because you are short of facial skin. You said you fought Yuigi yourself. So, what do you have to tell me?”

“Uh...”

“And don’t get me wrong. I’m not forgiving you. Since you upset a hive, we need to figure out everything about its occupants – their species, numbers, and the degree of irritation. So, what do you have?”

Helga was now surprisingly calm, to Kornel’s mild disturbance. Yet he did not fail her in giving everything he had seen and heard ever since he first confronted Yuigi, until Takio made him go away.

Helga shooed him away at the end of the briefing, and she tapped her chin with her fingers in interest.

‘So Yuigi’s grown weaker. And it’s apparently because of this choker she is wearing. At least there’s no doubt they don’t trust her. And I wouldn’t expect her to be on good terms with them.’

Helga was already beginning to brainstorm ideas to bring Yuigi back to them.

She did not care at all about the mechanism of the choker Yuigi was chained to, since power-controlling apparatus is common in Union as well.

She already knew that this human named Frankenstein was a researcher gifted enough to come up with a rein of his own.

She also knew that the modified humans under his leadership – Takio and Tao, once classified as DA-5, and M-21, the one Crombel used to be keenly fascinated with – are now strong enough to fare against the elders of the Union.

It was all thanks to the intelligence from her accomplice.

And then she was reminded of the fact her connection to him was abruptly lost.

‘Did he decide to turn his back? Not that I didn’t think of such scenario.’

Helga remembered the day when she first met him.

She was slightly caught off guard at how a mere researcher, not at all familiar or affiliated with warfare, dared to make a deal with her.

She recalled the condition from her accomplice and grinned; it was a grin devoid of entertainment or marvel, full of sneer and disdain.

Right then, an alarm drew her attention. It was not the one she was waiting for, but it was a sound worthy of her time – a sound signaling her new VIP’s incoming transmission.

And the said VIP very successfully flipped the table of mood for her.

“You’ve done well, sir. Very well. I’ll leave that part to you.”

Helga was now outwardly beaming as she finished the transmission.

“I’d thought I had merely found bread crumbles to the house of sweets when I learned Yuigi is alive. But looks like the crumbles were actually a ticket for the cruise to the isle of sweets, tasting like vengeance and retaliation. Now let’s get ready to climb aboard, shall we?”

She relocated herself to the lab and found the man she was looking for, who was seemingly in need of a task or two.

“Sol, we have a work to do.”

(next chapter)

I just realized that for chapters featuring Helga, her lines tend to turn more eloquent than other characters’ lines. Such metaphorically stylized manner of speech would be more appropriate for Rai or Lascrea, but unfortunately neither of them are talkers. And most importantly, they are hardly given lines in my fic. :’( Although I’m the one who didn’t allocate much spotlight for them, I wish to see them soon in future chapters lol

[spiteweaver]

previous | next

Argus was jealous.

He was not so jealous as to be smothering, but when he saw Mergo speaking to another drake, smiling at him, laughing at all of his jokes, he couldn’t help but feel just the slightest twinge of irritation. The son of a bitch was handsome too, which only made matters worse. He didn’t see how a scruffy merc like him was supposed to compete with a noble, all peach-colored hair, shocking blue eyes, and a pearly white grin that could’ve given Abaddon a run for his money.

Compared to him, Argus may as well have been a damned toad--and Mergo deserved better than that.

He knew that in his heart, but that didn’t make him any less envious, especially when Mergo reached for the stranger’s hand. It was the only way Mergo could communicate, Argus understood that full well, but he bared his teeth and growled regardless.

What did that prettyboy think he was doing with his mate?

Not his mate. Mergo was not his mate. They weren’t even dating; not really. Sure, they shared a bed, and Argus tailed him everywhere he went, but Mergo hadn’t given him the honor of officiating any sort of romance between them. It had been four eons since their escape from the nightmare’s clutches, and although they spent all of their time together, Argus still could not call Mergo his.

A low whistle caught his attention, and reluctantly, he turned his gaze from Mergo to the Mirror now sitting at his side. “You’re in an awfully bad way, pal,” Ambrosius commented. “I knew you were lovesick, but this is a bit much.”

“Don’t’cha have someone else to bother?” Argus spat. “Aren’t’cha Vladimir’s problem?”

“What, because I’m a dog?” Ambrosius snorted. “I can handle myself.”

“He kicked ya out, didn’t he?”

Ambrosius scratched under his chin. “Anyway,” he said, “that noble there, I think he’s a merchant from Asclepius. I also think we might be able to kill two birds with one stone.”

Argus glanced sidelong at Mergo and the merchant. They were standing very close now; too close. “Aye,” Argus said, “I’m listening.”

“I want that merchant’s gold,” Ambrosius elaborated, “and you want him away from Mergo. Promise not to tell Dreamweaver, and I’ll lead him on a merry dance. All I need you to do is cause a distraction.”

“Ya’ve got five seconds.”

“Wha--?”

The stall Argus had been leaning against abruptly and inexplicably gave way; at least, that was what he’d say had happened when Dreamweaver inevitably showed up to chew him out. Ambrosius was off like a shot the next moment, and while Mergo and his handsome friend were distracted by the clamor, he snatched the merchant’s coin purse right from around his waist.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” the merchant cried. “Chandani will kill me if I lose that money! I’m sorry, Mergo, I’ve gotta run!”

Mergo smiled and wrote a farewell upon the merchant’s palm. The poor bloke scrambled after Ambrosius like the Shade was on his heels, and Argus let out a loud, barking laugh...

...which was quickly cut short when he realized Mergo was not quite as amused as he was. Trying to appear casual, Argus shoved his hands into his pockets and whistled a jaunty tune. Mergo wasn’t buying it, though, and he could feel the diviner’s eyes boring holes in him.

Like an obedient pet, he held out a hand when Mergo approached. “So, ah,” he said, “that was a nasty bit’a misfortune, eh? Can’t help but feel sorry for the guy.”

“I know you did that on purpose,” Mergo replied. “Don’t play dumb with me, Argus; I can tell when people are lying. You don’t feel sorry in the least.”

“...It was pretty funny.”

“Did Ambrosius put you up to it?”

“Er...” Argus shrugged. “Yeah...no...ah, sorta?”

Mergo’s eyes narrowed, then suddenly shot wide . “Oh,” he wrote, “you were jealous of Agni, weren’t you?”

“‘Course not--why would I ever--I’m ten times the drake--”

“You know I would never be unfaithful, don’t you?”

Argus’ cheeks colored, and he swallowed hard. “W-well,” he stammered, “ya wouldn’t be bein’ unfaithful, since we aren’t...”

“Aren’t we lovers, Argus?” Mergo asked, and flashed Argus that sweet smile of his, the one he always wore when he was trying his damnedest to break a drake. “Am I the only one who thought we were dating?”

“W...we’re dating...?”

“We eat together,” Mergo said, “we sleep together, we have lovely little walks ‘round the village together; I don’t know, Argus, that sounds like dating to me. Here I’ve been telling everyone you’re my boyfriend for the past four eons--”

“You’ve been tellin’ folks I’m yer boyfriend?!”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yeah!” Argus exclaimed, grabbing Mergo roughly by the shoulders. “Yeah, I am! Yer damn right I am!”

“Good.” Mergo rolled up onto his toes and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Argus’ lips. “Now you don’t need to be jealous anymore, and you can go help Agni get his coin purse back.”

“Ah, Mergo, yer the most beautiful drake I ever--”

“Flattery’s not going to get you out of it.”

Argus grinned and threw his hands up. “Is it flattery if it’s true?” he asked. He could tell by the slight quirk of Mergo’s lips that he wanted to kiss him again--but that would be rewarding bad behavior, so instead, Mergo merely cocked a brow. “All right, all right, I’m goin’. I wanna see the look on Ambrosius’ face when I betray ‘im, anyhow.”

Before he left, however, he returned Mergo’s kiss from before, bending him so far back that his horns nearly brushed the ground. “I never thought an ornery bastard like me would fall in love,” he murmured sweetly, “but, by the blessed Eleven, do I ever love ya, Mergo.”

It wasn’t like Mergo to blush and stumble so spectacularly, and Argus thought he could’ve taken him right then and there, he looked so lovely. To hell with what was socially acceptable; Mergo was radiant, shining like the Beacon. Any drake would have gone a little mad with passion.

“I love you too,” Mergo traced against his chest. His hand was trembling, and Argus couldn’t stop himself from smiling even wider. “Now quit looking at me like that and go fix the mess you made.”

“Anything for my beloved boyfriend.”

[sentiment-or-profit]

Greetings, all! What follows is something I’ve been wanting to address for a while. It’s a bit of a headache (I know, believe me------I had to write it all out xD), so bear with me, please. :) (A big thanks to born-to-be-admired for contributing to this post as well!)

I have stated multiple times, as I’m sure many of you have noticed, that myself and my exclusive partners do not abide by the canon of S3 of the new series (Or S2 beyond E04) of Poldark. Sadly, both S3 and a great deal of S2 do a horrible job portraying both events and characters, straying dramatically not only from the source content (The novels) but more importantly, from the already existing canon of the show (Most notably in the cases of characters such as George, Elizabeth, Demelza, and Caroline). Also, both butcher the passage of time beyond recognition. As a result, we have been now been presented with versions of events/characters that I consider to be poorly conceived of and in some cases entirely inaccurate, and so don’t abide by.

Let me just start off by saying that I am in no way attempting to dictate other people’s portrayals------like me, you’re free to run with whatever version of the canon you want, for whatever your reasons. As I’ve said before, the canon I abide by is taken essentially from the books, with modifications made to allow for the canon of S1 of the new series (And S2 up to E04), which is my first and foremost source.

This doesn’t mean that I’m unwilling to interact with people who don’t abide by all the same canon as me------as I’ve said, I’m not here to dictate other people’s portrayals, and so long as blatant contradictions don’t arise in our interactions, we’re probably going to be okay. However, if contradictions are raised, and it becomes clear that our versions of events/characters are very different, I may be forced to drop the exchange. Obviously, it just doesn’t work to have my character saying one thing happened and yours saying another when that thing is meant to be an indisputable fact.

So, what I would request first and foremost is that you don’t assume when RPing with me that anything happened like it happened in S3 of the new series, or in S2 from E04 onward. I understand this may be confusing for some people (Particularly those who haven’t read the books), and that you may be wondering what remains and what doesn’t, and in the cases of the things that don’t, what occurs instead. I will try to outline some of the differences I think are most likely to arise below.

Of course, there’s a lot I could go into------the vast majority of George’s behavior in S3 is illogical, and that’s not even touching on other characters/events. That said, I will try to keep this short and highlight the points which I feel are most likely to come up during interaction, and which could be potentially detrimental to that exchange (And not go into all of the whys, since that would get unnecessarily lengthy). Also, I won't delve too deeply into anything involving only myself and my exclusive partners, as we're already on the same page, and that information isn’t going to be of a lot of use to other people.

First off, let’s talk about the passage of time in the new series. This is very complicated and messy (Take my word for it), but I will try to put it as simply as possible: not as much time passes in the new series as passes in the books. Of course, this shouldn’t matter much, provided the story is adapted to suit. But it isn’t. Instead, there comes a time in S2 where to the new series fails to acknowledge the fact that less time has gone by (And does nothing to compensate for the time lost). In other words, with the passage of time the show has presented, it is not possible for the year to be 1794 at the start of S3, but the series writers choose to behave as if the year is 1794 just the same. The year should in fact be 1791, and this is what myself and my exclusive partners run with. This means that George and Elizabeth’s marriage takes place in 1790, and Valentine and Clowance’s births in 1791. Agatha’s death would take place in 1792. Morwenna’s arrival at Trenwith/Drake and Sam’s arrival at Nampara, however, must still take place in the year of 1794 (Again, I won’t go into all of the reasons why. Just take my word for it). This also means that Dwight (Who would have joined the Navy in 1790 instead of 1793) is at sea for longer before he is taken prisoner.

Now that’s out of the way, let’s move on to those points I was going to highlight. Again, these are taken directly from the novels, with some small modifications made to allow for the canon of S1 (And S2 up to E04), which remains my first and foremost canon source.

- Both Jud and Prudie have been dismissed from service at Nampara by the time of Valentine’s birth (They still live nearby in the village of Sawle), having been replaced by John and Jane Gimlett.

- Dwight does not attend Elizabeth during Valentine’s birth. Rather, she is attended first by Dr. Choake, and then by Dr. Behenna.

- Dwight does not treat Valentine when he develops rickets. This also falls to Dr. Behenna.

- George does not question Dwight about Valentine’s prematurity. These questions are posed to Dr. Behenna.

- George and Geoffrey Charles get along well prior to George discovering that he and Morwenna have been associating with Drake.

- Geoffrey Charles does not take interest in visiting Ross, or in mining.

- Morwenna’s appointment as Geoffrey Charles’s governess is a mutual decision reached by George and Elizabeth, both of whom are in favor of the idea. George does not spring her appointment on Elizabeth, and Geoffrey Charles is informed he is to have a governess beforehand.

- George never deliberately attempts to use Morwenna to put distance between Elizabeth and Geoffrey Charles, but rather hopes that her presence will better prepare Geoffrey Charles for the more disciplined environment he will be faced with when he begins attending school.

- Elizabeth, while saddened by the growing distance between herself and Geoffrey Charles, is never resentful towards Morwenna, and is only ever kind to her.

- Morwenna, while greatly taken with Drake and influenced by her feelings for him, always maintains a strong regard for what is expected of her and their respective social standings. She would never lightly disgrace her family, or abandon them financially by marrying a penniless man without their consent. She feels not only a considerable obligation to conform to what is socially acceptable, but also a genuine desire to please and care for her family.

- Morwenna and Drake at no point agree to marry (Prior to their marriage near the end of The Angry Tide, that is).

- Geoffrey Charles, while very pleased that Drake and Morwenna are friends, takes a greater interest in his own friendship with Drake. He is not aware of Drake and Morwenna’s romantic interest in one another, and does not attempt to encourage it.

- Demelza, while disappointed that Ross does not accept the magistracy he was offered, is not critical of his decision. She does feel as though he could have effected positive change had he taken the position, but she is far more deeply troubled by the fact that she feels he has declined an honor that was his by right, and she feels badly that he will not receive the recognition she believes he deserves. However, she fully supports his decision, and firmly believes he should only do what he feels to be right. This incident does not create any contention between them.

- While George is eager to make a good match for Morwenna for his own personal benefit, he also looks to please Elizabeth by securing an advantageous marriage for cousin, as well as to prevent Morwenna further influencing Geoffrey Charles (By sending her away), as he believes her influence to be a poor one. He also has a genuine concern for Morwenna’s future.

- Demelza and Morwenna do not meet prior to Morwenna’s marriage to Osborne.

- Ross did not torment George with toads while they were at school, and has nothing whatsoever to do with George’s dislike of them.

- On the sixth of June, after Drake has stopped bringing toads to Trenwith land but before his arrest for the theft of Geoffrey Charles’s bible, George and Elizabeth are informed by Clarence Odgers that Drake and Morwenna have been meeting. George, at this point, forbids Morwenna and Geoffrey Charles from seeing Drake. They meet once more at Trenwith in spite of this, and Geoffrey Charles gives Drake his bible.

- Drake’s bringing of the toads to Trenwith land and his supposed theft of Geoffrey Charles’s bible both take place prior to Dwight and Hugh’s rescue by Ross (The mission to France occurs immediately after Drake’s release).

- Morwenna marries Osborne while Drake is gone to France. Drake learns of Morwenna’s marriage to Osborne shortly after his return from France. Drake and Morwenna have no further contact after he returns.

- George does not make Morwenna’s marriage to Osborne a stipulation of Drake’s release; in fact, she has already heard of Drake’s release by the time she consents to marrying Osborne. In other words, although there is considerable pressure put upon her to do so, Morwenna is not forced to marry Osborne. Rather, she marries him because it is what is expected of her and what will most benefit her family, and also because (In spite of her love for him) she has always been aware that marrying Drake was never a rational option. Also because (Having heard of Drake’s arrest and feeling their relationship played a part) she does not wish to endanger him in future.

- Following Dwight and Hugh’s rescue, Ross and crew put in at Falmouth (Where the Blameys live), not at Hendrawna Beach.

- Following his imprisonment in France, Dwight’s physical health is compromised and he is left permanently weakened, which impacts his relationship with Caroline and his ability to practice his profession.

- Morwenna does not speak to anyone about the abuse she suffers at Osborne’s hands.

- Hugh does not sketch. Poetry is his only artistic endeavor.

- When Ross informs Demelza of his decision to decline a seat in Parliament, she is both pleased and relieved. As with the magistracy, she feels as though he might have effected positive change, and she would have been glad to see him do so---however, she feels he would have been very unhappy as a Member of Parliament, as there would have been a far greater likelihood of him being forced to deviate from his own beliefs and morals. Thus, she both supports and commends his decision to decline the offer.

- Demelza’s feelings for Hugh do not originate from spite or revenge. She does not wish to use him, and she does not indulge his advances out of resentment towards Ross. Rather, she comes to genuinely care for Hugh over a long period of time, and is particularly vulnerable to his attentiveness, as even when matters are well between her and Ross, he can be negligent of her more sensitive feelings. Hugh offers a kind of concern and thoughtfulness she has never been given before. When she learns of Ross and Elizabeth’s meeting in the graveyard, it does further distance her from Ross, which does make her more susceptible to her feelings for Hugh, but her own unfaithfulness is not an act of revenge. She never intends to be unfaithful, and she never intentionally encourages Hugh, though her feelings for him do undermine her efforts at times. When Hugh and Demelza do finally sleep together, it happens first and foremost because of her own deep feelings for him, developed over his many months of pursuit, and also out of sympathy, both for his illness, and for the love he bears her, as she knows she cannot truly give him what he wants.

- Though he has great misgivings about their relationship, and is fully aware that each has feelings for the other, Ross does not know that Demelza has been unfaithful to him until some time after the fact, when Hugh is on his deathbed. When he finds out, he reacts very badly.

Again, this is by no means everything wrong with S3, or everything that I do differently------but it does touch on a lot of the points I feel are more likely to come up. Thanks for taking the time to read this, and have a good one! ;)

[lilbreck]

Title: Chapter 5: Whelmed Characters: Angel, Charles Gunn, Cordelia Chase, David Nabbit, Faith Lehane, Fred Burkle, Rupert Giles, Spike, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Willow Rosenberg Rating/Warning: FRT Word Count: 4,029 A/N: Though I list a lot of characters, and some of them actually do get dialog, some of them just pass through.

Spike had never been very good at just sitting around and waiting out the day. It's what drove him to risk being turned all nice and crispy to spend time with people who may or may not prefer him less undead and more dead. It's also what had him waiting in a darkened alley as Angel's human, Fred, ran back after buying an almost terrifying number of tacos. She had been unwilling to venture out into LA alone –and who could blame her even if they didn't take into account her time spent in another dimension—and Spike had been bored enough with Willow off visiting Faith in jail to volunteer himself to accompany her.

Of course, it's not like there was anyone else around to go instead. The humans had all be shooed off and their boss vamp was snoring away in his hotel suite. He didn't even mind that she had chattered and prattled on the whole way to the street where her favorite taco place was – "I've done some in-depth studying and this place so far has the best meat to lettuce ratio." – and on the way back. Of course, it helped that she was willing to stop her Ode to Angel when he asked. Didn't even get worked up over the fact that he may have snapped at her over it.

They had just entered the basement of the Hyperion when he heard arguing upstairs. Holding up the hand that wasn't carrying her food to halt Fred's talking, he listened carefully. Rolling his eyes and dropping his hand, he sent her a rueful look.

"Apparently, they've noticed we flown the coop."

He couldn't help but smile back at her conspiratorial grin. He turned back toward the stairs and made his way to them, listening to the argument and trusting Fred would follow behind in near silence. He didn't bother to fight down the small smirk that came at the thought of what she would be like if some lucky vamp turned her. He made sure that they made as little noise as possible coming through the door to the basement, but Angel was still starting directly at them when they entered the lobby.

Failed Watcher, Jr. and the cheerleader had moved from yelling at Angel to yelling at each other as Gunn looked on. The three didn't notice his and Fred's entrance or even that Angel's attention wasn't on them. Spike took special pleasure in the guilt that flashed across his sire's face when his eyes dropped to the bag in his hand. Before he could give the bastard a proper smug look, his attention was caught by Gunn.

"Don't be dragging me into this nonsense. I'm just here for the tacos."

Finally, having had enough of the pointless bickering –seemed to happen a lot among white hats, if you asked him—he held up the take-out bag and gave it a shake and interrupted, "Then you're just in time, mate."

Gunn wasted no time in making his way over to them while Angel made what was, in Spike's opinion, a huge production out of apologizing for being asleep and unable to take Fred himself. She told him that Spike had taken good care of her and he got a kick out of the confused and slightly jealous look on Angel's face as he watched her make her way to the round sofa in the middle of the lobby.

Fred and Gunn dug into the tacos as Wes and Cordelia both took up positions behind the front desk and glared at him. In between bites, Fred began telling Angel about her day so far. Spike remembered it being a big boring but, to hear the girl talk, you'd think he'd been the most fascinating thing to walk through the door since she'd arrived. Although Angel was very obviously uncomfortable, he made his way over and sat beside her looking a lot like a kicked puppy. When Spike happened to glance over at Gunn, the other man looked to be fighting down a smile.

The two at the desk looked on in undisguised disapproval for the most part. Spike would almost believe that Angel was oblivious to the tension if it weren't the small glances he would shoot at them whenever Fred would say something particularly complimentary about Spike. When Wesley interrupted Fred in a pretentious tone, Angel had apparently reached his limit.

"Enough. You two, head home. If we get any clients, I have your numbers."

They were smart enough to clear out with very little grumbling. When Angel noticed Gunn staring at him, taco halfway to his mouth, he shook his head.

"Not you, you're fine where you are."

Looking around he gave a deep sigh. Spike was expecting some toned down and pathetic rant about team work or whatever it was souled vampires got huffy about, so he was notably surprised when all that Angel said was, "We should really look at setting up an eating area."

Later that evening Spike was holed up in the room Willow had slept in. As much as he detested the boredom that came with being cooped up alone in a room, he couldn't spend any more time with Angel without it ending up in an argument. Part of him definitely was itching to get in a knock-down, drag-out fight, but he had promised Willow he wouldn't. He was nearly to the point where he was willing to risk Willow throwing a hopefully temporary spell at him, though, when he heard the doors to courtyard open and then Willow's soft greeting to Fred and Angel.

In the blink of an eye he was standing beside her at the bottom of the steps, just within touching range. She looked tired but somehow far more relaxed than he'd seen her since Glory had got her nasty little hands on her girl.

"I take it Faith is on board with her early release?"

Part of Spike had to wonder if Willow had used magic on the slayer. When his girl was determined, he wouldn't put that kind of thing past her. However, he was smart enough to not voice that particular fear. He'd seen her verbally lash out at Tara once when she'd made that mistake. The way her face lit up at his question, however, told him she wasn't expecting any kind of judgment, so it was doubtful she'd used magic.

"Oh yeah, she's totally on board! Well, I mean, I kinda had to go all 'tough love' with her and say that she was being a big ol' scaredy-cat. That, of course, may have been followed up with big teary eyes and telling her we needed her, but I'll never admit to it, no matter how much you torture or bribe me."

Her grin was too wide not to return. Soon enough, her smile lost a bit of its brightness as she continued, "Of course, now I have to figure out what to switch her charges to or else the memory spell is going to cause a lot of problems."

At this, Angel spoke up from his place behind the front desk.

"Actually, Fred has that covered for you."

Spike was glad they had actually put in some time to offer up real assistance but a selfish part of him wished they had done so with him around so he could have been the one to take that burden from Willow. Still, it was good that it had gotten done.

From behind Angel, at the computer, Fred gently corrected him, "Actually, I don't really have that covered for you. I mean, I've done all the research and figured out the charges and what files need to be changed. Assault, third degree, causing physical injury with deadly weapon, dangerous instrument, or electronic defense weapon. I've got a whole story put together if you wanna hear it. I'm just really rusty with computers on account of my being gone for five years, and I've never really done much in the way of hacking into prison records."

Looking completely pleased in a very dopey and ridiculous way, if you asked Spike, Angel said, "See, Fred has that covered."

While the girl in question looked at Angel with a very confused expression, Willow was busy making her way toward the computer, babbling the whole way.

"I am totally hacker girl, I can get you into the prison records. And, when you're done, I can get us out without anyone being the wiser, no problem. Then I'll just head upstairs and work on the spell."

As the two scarily intelligent young women worked away at the computer, Angel came around the desk. He walked out toward the courtyard and motioned with his head for Spike to follow as he passed. Spike knew there was a good chance that he wouldn't be happy with whatever Angel wanted to talk about, but he couldn't really see a way out of it without upsetting Willow. By the time he made it outside, Angel was sitting on the edge of the silly and pointless water-feature… pool… thing. He'd been on his best behavior all day, so he couldn't really resist poking at Angel a bit.

"I know what you're going to say, Angelus, but you've hurt me too much. It's possible that you may have changed, but I've made a good life for myself and I'm just not willing to come back to you anymore."

Angel didn't look amused, but he didn't look upset either. After a pause he asked, "Are you done?"

With a huff, Spike collapsed down beside where Angel was sitting and vented in a way that, if pressed, even he would admit was a bit overly dramatic.

"I'm just out of practice. I can't really push buttons back in Sunnyhell. Everyone there is too raw and touchy. One button and they'd blow up and Willow would be stressed out even more. Next thing you know, Xander and I are two slimy toads and you know she's not gonna come close enough to turn us back!"

After a weighted silence, Angel asked, "But that should be all over now, right? With Faith going back with you, Willow shouldn't be under so much pressure."

Spike let out a less than amused snort, practically jumped to his feet, and then walked over to lean against the pillar and stare into the lobby where he knew Willow still was, even without being able to see her. Taking out his smokes, he lit one up before he responded in a much calmer voice than he had been using. To be honest, he was almost grateful to share his concern.

"That's just it, innit? It's not all over. When we get back, Red's gotta find a place for the slayer to live. Unless she takes to sleeping in crypts or squatting in an abandoned building, that's gonna take money." Spike took a drag off his cigarette and shot Angel a look from the corner of his eye before focusing his gaze forward again. "I've got some things lined up that could bring in a few quid here and there, but Willow would want to know where it's coming from. She probably be none too pleased with the answer."

Angel seemed to be thinking hard as he stared down at the ground between his shoes. Or maybe the old man had fallen asleep, sometimes it was hard to tell. Before Spike could throw and insult at him to see if he was paying attention, Angel stood up. He walked by where Spike was standing and paused to rest a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't really have the money to help out myself, but I have a friend that might be able to do something. I'll give him a call and talk to him."

Spike was spared the awkwardness of having to find a way to thank Angel without having to actually say the words by Willow's sudden appearance at the doors.

"Hey, Spike, if you two are done with whatever bonding you're doing, you think you can give me a hand with this spell?"

Knowing that Willow might be uncomfortable with his discussing her financial worries with Angel, Spike decided not to tell her that there was a possible solution just yet.

"Nah, pet, we're good. I just had to break it to Angelkins that I wasn't going to be getting back with him no matter how much he begged."

He counted Willow's small laugh as a victory and quickly made to follow her as she went back inside and started up the stairs. He had just made it to the door when Angel's voice stopped him.

"We both know you'd come crawling back to me if I said the word."

Make no mistake, he was happy Angel was going to try and help Willow out. However, he still wouldn't let him have the last word. He turned to fully face Angel and gave him a slow once over, tongue curled up behind his teeth. With a shake of his head, he said, "Not even in a dream, mate."

In the early hours of the morning —three in the morning to be exact— Gunn drove Willow back to the prison. Spike had attempted to convince her to get a few hours' sleep first, but there was no reasoning with her. She was far too energized by the idea of having a slayer back with them. And so, after receiving a promise from Gunn that he would keep Willow safe, Spike crawled into the bed that she had barely slept in. And, if he took the time to breathe in her scent before falling asleep, no one could prove it happened.

It felt like it had only been a few minutes when he woke up to the feeling of someone staring at him. He quickly recognized Fred's scent, though he could swear her heartbeat was quieter than most. She was practically tailor made to be a vampire. Without opening his eyes, he said, "You know pet, a man wakes up to a pretty girl in his room staring at him, he's bound to get ideas."

Instead of being startled or embarrassed, Fred seemed to take his comment as an invitation to invade his personal space. His eyes shot open when he felt the bed dip beneath her weight. She was perched on her knees, waving a wad of cash at him with a huge grin on her face.

"I went ahead and asked Angel for some money and I was thinkin', since you're up and all, you could go with me so I could pick up some more tacos. Different place this time. The meat to lettuce ratio isn't nearly as good, but they have some things there I haven't tried before. I'd wake up Angel, but he gets cranky if you get him up too early."

Spike really couldn't find it in him to be angry she was interrupting his sleep. After all, she was a sweet little thing and still getting over being in a hell dimension. Besides, he really did love the sour look on his sire's face every time she went on and on about how nice he was to her.

"Since I'm up, might as well take a pretty girl out. Though, you might want to step out of the room for just a tick." At her questioning expression, he sent a meaningful glance over the bed spread covering him. "Didn't exactly bring my jammies with me."

Her eyes got huge and she quickly hopped off the bed and rushed to the door. Turning around, giggling and blushing, she said, "I'll be right outside when you're all done getting dressed!"

True to her word, Fred stood on the other side of the door when he opened it again. Her chattering began almost as soon as he got the door closed and didn't stop as they made their way down to the lobby. What did stop her was the sudden presence of Angel. Spike was sure that, if she knew about it, Willow would have something to say about the glee he took in the way Angel's face fell a bit when Fred told him that she was heading out with him. Fred, however, didn't seem to feel that particular joy along with him.

"Oh, but you can come with us. Right, Spike?"

No, it was not right. In fact, it was the very opposite of right. However, looking at Fred's hopeful face, he felt himself crumble.

"Sure, pet. Ol' Angelus can tag along with us."

Spike wasn't sure if she didn't notice the fact that he and Angel refused to talk to each other, or if she just chose to ignore it. Either way, she seemed content to fill the silence herself. When she left them both standing in the shadows of an alley, Spike decided to take over the talking.

"Eventually you're going to have to find something for her to do besides hide away in that death trap of a hotel."

Angel didn't bother to look at him when he bit out, "I'm aware of that."

Spike wasn't about to let it go, though, and continued on in a patronizing tone, "And if you're planning on keeping her, you're going to have to feed her better."

At this Angel did turn and look at him. Spike could tell he was on the edge of striking out and it felt comforting to be on familiar ground with him again.

"She's not a pet, Spike."

When Spike replied, his voice was calm and, though he would deny it, even understanding.

"She's not exactly a fully functioning adult right now, either. She's hiding away in her room and, from what I can tell, living off fast food. Until she's ready to take care of herself, you're going to have to do a better job looking out for her. Lord knows your other humans are doing an absolute rubbish job of it."

Whatever Angel was going to say was interrupted by the sound of Fred running across the street, bag of food in hand. When she caught sight of Angel and Spike, she stopped short.

"Y'all aren't fighting, are you?"

Angel quickly gave a smile and shook his head. "No, we're just catching up. Are we ready to head back?"

Once again, Fred was left to do all the talking as they made their way back. Spike did hear Angel on the phone later with Gunn arranging for the man to stop by for some money to go food shopping.

"Wait, you mean they have grocery stores that are open at night? Huh. So, uh, what exactly would you say the basics would be for someone like Fred?"

Of course, a few minutes later when Angel brought up going out and picking up food with her, he didn't bother to say where he'd gotten the idea. Wanker. At least the poor girl would get some decent food, so Spike supposed it didn't matter. He was turning into a right bleedin' heart. Thankfully Angel didn't seem to notice it. Mostly because he seemed to be enraptured by Fred's rhapsodizing over different foods she could pick up at the store after dark.

She had just wound down when a slightly frumpy man who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties came in through the front door. By the way Angel jumped up to greet him, he was apparently not a stranger.

"David! I didn't expect you to show up tonight. Is there something wrong?"

Although David didn't look uneasy, he did fumble a bit as he answered, "No, uh, nothing, there's nothing wrong. I just… Is she still here?"

Spike had just begun to wonder if he had a thing for the cheerleader when Willow walked in the through the back door with Faith not far behind her. Spike's eyebrows raised when Angel said, "Here she is now, actually."

Spike could only sit back in confusion as the new guy seemed to fawn over Willow's brain and gush about how someone he knew had talked on and on about how they had tried to recruit her in high school or some such nonsense. What it seemed to amount to was an apparent job offer that they closed themselves off in the office to talk about. When he looked at Angel, he seemed just as lost. Apparently, whatever David had been called to do, it wasn't to make a job offer.

He may not have been able to barge in on the spontaneous meeting, but that didn't stop him from listening in. He didn't notice he was tensed up until he felt himself relax when he realized that, even with this job she seemed ready to accept, she would still be living in Sunnydale. When she came out of the office and said her goodbyes to David she seemed a bit dazed. After a few minutes of silence, her eyes got wide and her gaze excitedly bounced between him and Faith.

"We're going to have to look for a house as soon as we get back to Sunnydale! We don't have to wait to save up money or anything."

She quickly went from joy to horror and continued, "I'm gonna have to quit college now. How am I gonna tell Tara?"

For the next few hours, until it was dark out, Willow paced back and forth in the lobby going over the pros and cons of her new job and having random bouts of panic over having to tell both Tara and her parents. At some point Gunn had arrived, though she paid him no mind. She only stopped her monologue disguised as a conversation when Fred said it was time to go grocery shopping. Apparently, even company starved geniuses recently escaped from a hell dimension had their limits.

The next morning found Willow with her newly signed contract in her bag, Faith in the passenger's seat beside her, and Spike tucked away in the backseat under a blanket —he had absolutely refused Angel's suggestion of riding in the trunk. She was still half convinced that David Nabbit hiring her had all been a very strange shared hallucination. The relief she got from no longer having to worry about how they were going to keep Faith housed and fed helped fuel her through the two-hour drive home. While Faith seemed to not really be paying attention to what she was saying, she did ask questions whenever there was a lull in Willow's babbling.

Faith managed to put on a good enough front to almost have Willow believing that she was unconcerned about her reception. However, it was hard to miss the look of relief on her face when they pulled into Willow's house and she found out she wouldn't be seeing anyone else until the next day. Willow had just shown Faith around the house and was just about to head out to check on Tara when there was a knock at the front door. She caught herself sharing a worried glance with Faith and Spike who had quickly joined her in the hallway.

"If they were going to attack, they wouldn't knock first. Right?"

When they both shrugged, she took a deep breath and stepped close to the door to look through the peephole. She gave a relieved huff of laughter when she saw Giles on the other side. She quickly opened the door and invited him in. He gave a nod of greeting to both her and Spike, but then turned a serious look on Faith.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't give you more time to settle in, Faith. However, we seem to have a bank robbing demon on our hands."

Looking a bit relieved —Willow couldn't help but think she would rather face demons than any emotional confrontations— Faith headed back into the living room and picked up the jacket she'd just recently laid across the back of the couch. She quickly shrugged it on, pulled her hair out from the collar and shot Willow a quick smirk.

"No rest for the wicked, Red."

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 37 – Yuigi’s Mystery

“Sir, we have a situation!”

Sangin and Yeonsu bolted into the room, their motion so forceful that they might as well have demolished the door.

“We just had an explosion in sector 32.”

“Sector 32? That must be...”

“That’s where we have a facility that belongs to the ex-chairman.”

Of all the places.

Taesik, the director of KSA, minced a biteful of his lips, grasping his desk tightly by its either sides.

“Do we know the cause?”

“We dispatched the agents who happened to be nearby. They testified that the topmost structure of the building – which is in the ex-chairman’s possession – was utterly destroyed. Luckily we have zero casualty so far, due to the time and location of the explosion. Not to mention it was built in an area not dense in transient or residential populations.”

“...That is good to hear.”

“I am terribly sorry to say this, but it is too soon to call off the alarm. We have yet to find the one to blame.”

“...Did you notify them?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Takio said he’s on his way right now.”

“Very well. You two look into the exact number of casualty and magnitude of damage. We must get ready for the aftermaths, including the media broadcast.”

Sangin and Yeonsu nodded in understanding.

They remained silent, but they knew what used to stand at the scene of trouble. They also knew who was lodging there.

Which was why they mentally mumbled in synchronization: Did she finally do it?

*****

Yuigi was running.

She had been stranger to a chase for such a long time.

However, unlike her previous experiences, she was the one on the run.

“Where do you think you’re going? I just put up a fight and gave you an invitation – don’t you turn down the party!”

The man croaked behind her, sounding much more like a toad with his voice raised.

Currently, Yuigi was luring him.

She could not say for sure if she could muster even one-sixteenth of her original power, but she remembered how she could make a colossal building crumble to the very bottom with a mere punch, as if breaking a toothpick.

She knew herself too well; she could not dare engage in a brawl where the safehouse once maintained itself.

‘There’s no reason for me to reserve myself a lecture from those three, given that I can make it back alive.’

She ultimately reached the area where 6th, 7th, and 8th Elders were lost, still under KSA’s management – a thoroughly vacant space, impeccable for a clash-slash-clamor.

‘No, it won’t be a clash. Clash applies to a case in which the involved parties engage in a mutual combat. What I’ll soon get to encounter here would be a one-sided beating.’

Yuigi directed her eyes, slightly hazy with bitterness, towards her choker, somehow feeling heavier than usual.

“Like I said, you have no idea how elated I am, Yuigi! For at last I have found a chance!”

The modified human smirked, making it so very blatant that he was in ecstasy.

‘Duh, of course I have no idea. I was too busy trying to recover my well-bombarded eardrums.’

That was when Yuigi got curious of what he had said to her upon entrance.

She was aware of the fact that bad guys who talk a lot have so much to offer.

Though verbal manipulation is far from her usual style of battle, Yuigi warmed up her lips in preparation.

“Oh, so that’s what you jabbered about when you crashed through the door? Thanks for filling me in.”

That moment the man’s face was crumpled in displeasure.

“I happened to be busy in thoughts. Damn, speaking of which, I didn’t even get to enjoy my late-night snack. I’ve been waiting to savor it since last night; I wonder if I can get it later. Then again, since the entire building is gone, I should start cleaning the mess. And figure out who to send the bills to pay for the loss.”

Yuigi peeked at him, making herself appear as unconcerned as possible.

Just as she had wished, his face was plastered with doubt concerning his own hearing capability, soon to be marred with question regarding her words.

“That was the prelude of my glorious history of spotlight. You were supposed to be my witness for the moment...! And you didn’t hear anything I spoke?”

“Nope. To me, getting a treat as scheduled is more important than that stupid speech of yours.”

“Why, you...! Stick this to your head – the codename’s Kornel. The new hope and star of the surviving Union! And as I get my revenge for my dear friend Mark, I...”

Kornel flinched and held his tongue, in the course of his frenzied monologue of screech and spit.

And he smiled as if telling Yuigi that it was a nice try.

“You were planning to pry out info from me. Sorry, but I’m not falling for it. I’m not that hopeless.”

Well, you just spilled the codename of your closest comrade. That counts as a lethal mistake in my point of view.

Yuigi did not dispense her opinion, for Kornel did have a point: she could no longer collect intelligence from him.

And she had neither the plan nor time to give it another try. Kornel flexed his fingers and closed the distance between them.

“Since you were keeping yourself hidden in such a place, I assume your skills have turned unworthy of flaunting. It’s a shame that I can’t pummel you while you are in best condition and fully furnished, but I hope you’d understand. When will I ever get to beat a Cerberus? Oh, and allow me to thank you in advance – thank you for serving as my stepping stone to the higher ground!”

With a pregnant thud, Kornel flung himself forward.

Instinctively Yuigi’s senses were whetted to the extremity, and she fixed her eyes upon his fists and correspondingly maneuvered herself in the air.

Kornel launched the kickoff of their game with light punches, their pressure and power nevertheless not even close to the definition of kickoff, and darted towards the red-haired woman. As she ducked and turned in evasion, she could run a self-diagnosis.

‘Reflexes. Speed. Rate of reaction. They’re not so different from what they used to be. My powers may have been only partially retrieved since I was freed from Crombel’s lab, now chained by this choker. But this isn’t so bad; I can handle this, I think.’

And Yuigi got to pay for speaking too soon.

“So this is piece of cake for you, huh? You do live up to the name of the Cerberus.”

So here goes the real deal.

Yuigi had a feeling that was what Kornel’s grin was implying.

Swoosh!

Pow!

“Urgh!”

Kornel’s body faded as Yuigi kept her gaze on him, and right after an impact equivalent to that of a tank’s missile bored through her side.

Despite the painful delusion that half of her form was shattered into dust, Yuigi lifted her body to find out what just occurred to her.

Thus she came to behold Kornel lifting his enormous fist, about to powder her for good.

Bam!

Yuigi gave a kick to her legs at full force, to be gravely astonished by how Kornel had already caught up to her.

‘He looks like a toad, but how come he’s so fast?!’

As far as she was concerned, he was just a bit slower than Takio, based on her memories from the day he exhibited his nimbleness with a glass of water when she first opened her eyes in the safehouse.

Therefore, she had no choice but to altogether pledge herself to dodging.

She was not completely cornered, to her gratitude.

‘No energy manipulation or body transformation. Looks like he’s the type that deals with physical melee based on superhuman speed and strength.’

The moment her analysis met its end, out of habit she attempted to counterattack.

As she had commonly done so, Yuigi concentrated the energy within to eject it in the shape of a beam.

Just then, an unexpected pain yanked her neck, rendering her whole body numb.

It was thanks to the choker, molded by Tao and assigned by Takio.

Simultaneously, she could feel the energy that sparked across her palm withdrawing itself, like fire dumped with water.

Kornel did not hesitate to throw himself towards her, and after a series of despair and helplessness came a thought: Should I just give up?

Yuigi did not even wipe the blood off her throat, a mark left by the slash of wind that very nearly beheaded her. She was captured by the idea that even if she makes it out of here, she still has no life.

‘And I don’t want to stay as a nuisance to him.’

Takio may have thought she was blind to the fact, but she knew.

She knew that M-21, as much as he tried to make it invisible, was not happy at all with her presence.

Although Lunark’s visit set a guideline for her future behaviors, she knew that Takio was on a rather away-from-good terms with his teammates for her sake.

And just then she could see no reason why she should keep on with her current status, void of a purpose but surely a hindrance to her savior.

‘Let’s just give up.’

Her body stopped struggling, as if it were waiting for her statement.

She could feel all of her cells drained of vitality, as if her biological clock has been broken.

Meanwhile, Kornel did not halt his attack; he was right onto her face, which was a sign for Yuigi that this was it.

However, the air enveloping her heaved with a swoosh, and Kornel’s movement went past her.

No, she went past it.

‘What the...?’

She was ready to die. She did not mean to move whatsoever.

Nonetheless, her body scrambled as Kornel lunged towards her once again.

And her body began to move on its own.

‘What the heck...? What is going on?!’

She could not control any of her appendages.

It was as if her mind was cut off from her flesh, trapped in a shell in humanoid configuration.

On the other hand, her steps and actions had turned much more precise.

Apparently Kornel realized the change; his face was muddled with confusion.

But not long after, he snickered, seemingly onto something in his mind.

“A puppet within the Union, and a puppet outside, I see.”

What are you talking about?

Yuigi’s words were mute, her voice box incompliant.

“In the past, I could pick up a couple things about you by pure chance. Including what Yuri did to your body via Crombell’s order, when you were made his test subject. And what you had gone through when you found yourself at the Union for very first time.”

Yuigi did not like the way he was bickering.

For some reason, she felt like he knew something that could devastate her entire world once she learns.

What are you trying to say?

What is it that you know?

Tell me. Say it now.

No, don’t. Don’t say it.

Please let me stay ignorant.

A myriad of thoughts summoned within her soundless lightning, vortex, and squall.

“Did you know that you’ve been serving your archenemy?”

Kornel’s declaration turned Yuigi’s inner lightning into thunderstorm.

“How very pitiful. You haven’t realized who gave you your misfortune.”

Her vortex within transformed into a tornado.

“You’ve considered Union your everything, haven’t you? Well, guess what? It’s the Union that took everything from you.”

Her squall recast itself as a hurricane.

And the said hurricane struck her from head to toe, igniting every nerve of her physique.

What is that...

“...Supposed to mean?!!”

The phrase that was to be left as a thought erupted through her lips.

She could feel control back in her grip; Kornel stiffened upon her shift.

He soon repositioned himself to continue his assault, but he had to hold onto the idea.

“Miss Raciela!!”

Bang! Bang!

With a sheer cry, bullets unusually amplified in power directly landed on where Kornel was locating himself.

Kornel hurriedly took steps back, as Takio secured himself before him.

The Union agent winced upon recognizing him.

A purple-haired gunner. A gray-haired werewolf shifter. And an electric whipper with locks of white hair. In whatever circumstances, don’t you ever face off against them. Or so help me......

‘Damn it,’ muttered Kornel in his head, as he composed himself and gritted his teeth.

“Looks like fortune favors you. But don’t you think this is the end of it. Now that I know you are here, you have just provided us with an additional weapon. You’d better mark my words!”

Contrary to his you-can’t-do-anything-about-us stance, Kornel did not waste a second in running for his life.

Takio kept his gun poised and ready to fire until Kornel was made perfectly scarce, to finally turn to Yuigi, who remained immobile until then.

Her reply to his question of her safety was nothing like what he was anticipating.

“Tao.”

“...Sorry?”

“The guy who used to be in DA-5 with you. The one who is still on your team. I need to talk to him.”

(next chapter)

Yes, Kornel belonged to the assassin team under Crombell’s ownership, along with Mark. The fact that he was Mark’s closest friend is my creation for this fic, so I hope there would be no confusion on this matter!

Now this fic is slowly reaching its highlight chapters. I’ll do my best to bring a good finale for my series! :D