#i was waiting for all the chapters to release cause i am very impatient & would have been sad if i caught up while it was still updating | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eggtoasties · 4 years ago

Text

dazed bees to honey

Pairing: Shisui Uchiha/Sakura Haruno

Rating: T

Word Count: 6.3k

Better on AO3

Chapter 2

______________________________________

Getting Sakura’s attention had been…difficult at best. Trying to work around his erratic schedule was near impossible given Sakura’s equally hectic schedule and Shisui wasn’t sure how to approach the Hokage and demand that she rearrange his missions to better accommodate his dating schemes.

But, he had never met anyone more alluring—the sway of Sakura’s hips, the creaminess of her skin, the way her eyes lit up when he brought little trinkets he acquired from far away missions. She makes the blood rush to his cheeks when she makes fun of him and he had never known that getting his bones crushed would make him feel like he was the luckiest man on Earth.

She was the sun—bringing him light and warmth like he had never before experienced, and he was the moon orbiting around her. He needed to be closer; he wanted to be consumed by her. She could crack his chest open in two and carve her name in the ribs protecting his heart and it still wouldn’t be close enough.

He just didn’t know how to tell her.

___

Shisui had been idly sharpening kunai at his dining room table waiting for his bread to proof, when he received a summons. Tapping at the balcony door, a small crow was impatiently waiting for Shisui to retrieve the message tied at its foot. Wondering why Itachi sent a crow instead of making the short trip to his apartment, Shisui set his weapon down and ambled towards the sliding glass door, making sure to grab seeds for the summons.

Letting out a squawk, the crow started pecking at his door faster. Alarmed that Itachi was possibly in danger, Shisui shunshined to the balcony and grabbed the crow to get to the message. Puffing its feathers and pecking at Shisui’s hands, the summons squawked indignantly and Shisui offhandedly wondered when Itachi had kept such poorly behaved crows.

Gently releasing it into the air and unfurling the message, Shisui read:

Came back from the mission a few days ago. At training ground 7 if you’d like to join. -S. Haruno

His heart pounded. Sakura was back in the village and she contacted him promptly afterwards to ask to spar? Dough be damned he was sprinting to training ground 7, he thought giddily. He looked down at himself—green fuzzy socks, loose gray sweats, and an old t-shirt—he had to get ready! His cheeks warmed. Wait, he mentally stammered. How did she know where he lived? How did she know where to send the summons to? Did she snoop around his medical files to find his address because for some reason, that made his throat dry.

Running to his bedroom while haphazardly throwing his clothes off, he suddenly stilled again. She had sent him a crow? She had a crow summons? There were a few crow summoners in the village, Shisui reasoned. She could have gotten a contract from Aoba or someone else. But, the thought of Itachi presenting the summoning contract that he had bestowed as a sign of trust and friendship made Shisui frown. As the elder, and the first contract holder, he should have been the one to give her the contract to sign. Or, Itachi should have gone to him and inform Shisui of his intentions.

Nodding to himself, Shisui made a note to stop by Itachi’s house later and question him.

___

Arriving at the edge of training ground 7 in record time, Shisui paused as he saw Sakura and Itachi in their uniforms warming up together. Sakura was in standard uniform sans the flak jacket and Itachi was in his ANBU uniform as always. Shisui fidgeted uncomfortably. He had worn what Itachi rudely called “the douchebag” shirt—a loose black sleeveless top where the arm holes were cut down to the bottom of his ribs. The tank top, Itachi always lectured, could hardly be defined as a shirt since it was so open. Itachi had questioned the practicality of a training top that would leave one so vulnerable to weapons and Shisui at the time, had retorted that he would understand when he was older.

Beginning to wonder if he should discreetly go back home to change, Sakura and Itachi called Shisui over.

“Oh, you came!” Sakura shouted excitedly as she beckoned him towards the middle of the training field.

As he walked slowly towards the pair, Itachi assessed Shisui.

“I see you got my summons,” he said, raising his eyebrow when he took in Shisui’s clothes. “Nice pants.”

Shisui flushed. He had chosen his tightest black training pants. Pants that he knew made his ass look good, thank you very much, but at the moment he was wondering if Sakura would think he was trying too hard. Or worse, he mentally shuddered, a douchebag.

“I was excited when Itachi told me you were in the village. I wanted to work on my response times with you,” Sakura started, interrupting Shisui’s mental torture. His heart fluttered at the thought of her wanting to spar with him and he let out a little breath of relief realizing that the crow was indeed Itachi’s. He crossed his arms in a poor attempt to cover the long slits in his shirt.

“I can dodge pretty much anything,” Sakura continued, beginning to sway on the balls of her feet, pink pony tail swinging with the motion. “But I wanna see how I’ll do against an opponent I can’t hit—or at least that’s what Itachi says,” she said, smiling at him prettily.

The early morning sun illuminated her face and made her green eyes impossibly bright. The faint ring of gold around her pupils winked at him and he swore he could feel his pulse reverberate in his skull. He realized she was waiting for a response. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, and all he could muster out was a weak, “Sounds good.”

Sakura nodded happily and walked a few paces away from him, wringing out her arms. Suddenly pulling out kunai from her holster and twirling them around her forefingers, she faced him.

“Taijutsu only. Ready whenever you are, Shisui-san.”

___

She was fast, Shisui noted. He had expected as much given the way she took him by surprise in her office, cutting his shunshin off. He also factored in the fact that she regularly trained with Itachi, Sasuke, and Kakashi who were notoriously quick on their feet. But, not as fast as him.

Flickering in and out of her reach, he studied her movements with his sharingan. He knew that Itachi was on the sidelines, similarly monitoring her, but Shisui wanted to brand the image of her looking at him like he was prey for the rest of his life. Sakura was an incredibly flexible fighter, he noted. Depending on the type of attack, weapon, and opening he left, she would quickly and seamlessly recalibrate.

There were times her movements reflected Tsunade-sama’s—sharp and fast and meant to obliterate. Other times, Shisui realized, she would adopt Might Guy’s Strong Fist technique, Asuma’s melee style, or most surprisingly, the graceful but precise movements of the Gentle Fist technique.

Bracing a chakra enforced forearm against a kick to his head he asked, “Who taught you the Gentle Fist?”

Grunting and trying to strike his open stomach she responded, “My graduating class has two Hyuugas.” He side stepped away from her punch and flickered behind her. Ducking when she swung a kunai to his head and dodging the knee about to pummel his face, he shunshined a little farther away.

“Hyuuga don’t hide their techniques because no one can use it without the Byakugan, but someone would have had to teach you those movements,” he said breathing heavily.

“Kakashi copies them to piss people off and I was—am close to them,” Sakura said catching her breath. He watched as she pressed the back of her hand to her sweaty forehead and picked the hem of her shirt up to wipe at the rest of her face. Her toned stomach glistened with sweat. Little rivulets of perspiration rolled down her abs and Shisui cursed, damn.

“Was it the little Hyuuga genius? Neji-kun?” Shisui asked, remembering Sasuke’s clear distaste for the boy.

Itachi chose then to materialize in Shisui’s line of vision, cutting his view of Sakura. Pouting, Shisui flash stepped in front of Sakura, startling her while Itachi began his commentary on what and how Sakura could improve as well as ideas for them to try out.

The rest of their morning session consisted of Itachi valiantly trying to train while Shisui cast low level genjutsus of himself telling Itachi to leave. Itachi dispelled the genjutsus, but Shisui relentlessly recast them, sometimes conjuring up little dancing animals or mini Sasukes berating him to leave. Tiring of Shisui’s antics, Itachi dejectedly sat on the ground and began his stretches, saying that they should call it a day.

“Are you alright? You seemed distracted today—I definitely hit you more than usual,” Sakura said kneeling in front of him, raising a glowing green hand to his chest.

“Thank you—I’m fine,” Itachi responded tiredly. “It’s just that Shisui,” he said harshly, glaring at him over Sakura’s shoulder, kept telling me to leave.”

Alarm bells started ringing in Shisui’s head and he looked incredulously at his cousin. His cousin who sold him out. His decidedly, least favorite cousin. He glared back at Itachi. Shisui flashed his dimples which made Itachi narrow his eyes further.

“Sorry, cousin,” Shisui started. “I’m just absolutely starving and wanted to eat—you know how I am when I want something,” he said, throwing his arms behind his head and wiggling his eyebrows at his cousin.

“Annoying? Irritating? Childish?” Itachi grumbled, causing Sakura to giggle. “Sakura,” Itachi started. “Would you want to go to that new bakery in the North District? I’ve only heard incredible things about their rhubarb ice cream,” Itachi said excitedly, ignoring the way Shisui was pouting and lightly kicking at the ground.

Sakura finished healing Itachi and slowly rose, dusting the dirt from her knees and wiping her hands against her thighs. “Ooh, that sounds really nice, but I should probably get real food before I start on desserts,” Sakura laughed.

Not to be outdone, Shisui stepped beside Sakura. “I agree, let’s get lunch Sakura-sensei,” he chirped while resting his hand against Itachi’s head, who was still sitting down. Scowling, Itachi yanked on Shisui’s arm, making his older cousin stumble, and jabbed the back of his knee. Pleased that Shisui was now sprawled in the dirt, Itachi rose and said, “Well, I’m also going to get sesame cookies,” he sniffed. “Good luck with this,” Itachi said to Sakura, poking an incensed Shisui with his sandal. “And thank you for the coconut oil.”

With that, Itachi gracefully straightened himself out and walked towards the edge of the clearing, waving back at Sakura.

___

Shisui and Sakura made their way towards the main hub of Konoha. Excited to be alone with her, Shisui asked her questions about her last mission and her work at the hospital. He listened intently as she recalled the mission details, chuckling when she complained about the humidity in Waterfall, telling her he completely understood while pointing to his curly hair. She talked animatedly about her research project at the hospital. Although he didn’t understand about seventy five percent of what she was explaining, he nodded dutifully, lips quirking as he watched her excited hand movements as she discussed…molecular interventions through pathogenic mechanisms of neurocristopathies—he thinks.

Humming at the right times and throwing in a “oh, really—what does that mean?” every so often, he basked in her voice. Her voice, Shisui decided, was his favorite sound in the entire universe. Wanting to sit down together, he interrupted her briefly to point at the first restaurant he saw.

“How’s ramen sound, Sakura-sensei?” he asked.

“And that’s why normal and pathological neural crest cells—” Sakura, paused. “Oh, Ichiraku’s is fine. Did you know this is Team 7’s spot?” she asked, heading towards the shop. “We used to eat at Ichiraku’s a few times a week,” she scrunched her nose in distaste, “when we were genin,” she finished.

“Itachi says Sasu-chan always complains about Naruto-kun’s ramen eating habits but I didn’t realize this was your guys’ place of choice,” Shisui chuckled. “Does he know that the stand two streets over also does a killer ramen? A gal needs variety if I recall correctly,” he threw in cheekily. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he continued. “There’s also this other place that has great ambience and incredible food—you should come some time?” he voice rising in speed and pitch at the end of the sentence.

Her step faltering, Sakura looked up at Shisui. “Huh?” she questioned at his word choice, “What is it?”

“My place,” he responded quickly, smiling sunnily at her and ignoring the rush of blood to his face.

Shisui’s heart thundered at the way her mouth opened in surprise and he felt his bones reverberate when the tips of her ears turned pink. While she scrunched her nose at the cheesy line, she couldn’t help the way her lips quirked up.

“Well—”

“SAKURA-CHAN!” Naruto screamed, running towards her from down the street, waving both hands excitedly. Behind Naruto, walking at a leisurely pace, was Itachi and Sasuke. Sending Shisui an apologetic smile, Sakura faced Naruto as he spun her around in a hug.

Exasperated, Shisui watched Itachi amble towards him and sent him a mental middle finger. Looking pleased with himself, Itachi didn’t even try to hide his smirk behind his massive ice cream cone.

“Me and teme ran into Itachi-nii and he said you and Shisui-nii were around here somewhere,” Naruto exclaimed. Turning to acknowledge Shisui he said, “Oh, dude nice pants, your ass looks great in them—let’s all get Ichiraku!” he shouted, grabbing Sakura’s wrist and running towards a waving Teuchi.

Shisui stood alone in the middle of the street with his mouth slightly open. Itachi joined his side while Sasuke trailed after his two teammates, not before assessing Shisui’s shirt and pants and throwing him a grimace.

“Tch,” Sasuke said dismissively.

“You love this don’t you, Itachi.”

“Ah,” he responded. Itachi angled his ice cream towards Shisui and raised a brow.

“No.”

Itachi pouted.

___

Bounding ahead to Ichiraku’s, Naruto pulled the chair against the wall with a flourish, exaggerating a bow and extending his hand towards Sakura. Easily following the mimicry of their genin days, she giggled and pretended to ignore him. Sakura took the seat at the middle of the bar which Sasuke quietly pulled out for her.

Pouting, Naruto complained, “Aw, c’mon Sakura-chan, you don’t actually want to sit next to teme, do you? He asked, easing in the seat to her left.

“It’s so she can mediate when you eventually say something stupid to piss me off,” Sasuke said, distributing the menus.

Sakura punched him in the arm in response and turned to chat about the menu with Naruto. When Shisui and Itachi settled into the wooden seats next to Sasuke, Sakura asked,

“How long are you two in the village for?” leaning towards Shisui and Itachi.

“We’ll both be local for about a week.” Itachi offered, now nibbling delicately at his cone.

“They’ve both been easing back on their ANBU duties and are doing more stuff for the clan,” Sasuke supplied, absentmindedly picking at a paint chip on the counter.

Whooping in response Naruto added, “Hell, yeah!” he threw a fist into the air. “Now you guys can train with us more! And Itachi-nii,” he started, leaning back in his chair to look at Itachi, “if you could bring more of those rice balls you made last time, they were incredible, dattebayo!”

Smiling, Itachi leaned back to discuss snacks with Naruto.

“And what about you, Sakura-sensei,” Shisui asked, completely pushing Sasuke out of the way.

Grumbling, Sasuke pushed back at Shisui, which the elder responded by trapping a hissing Sasuke in a headlock.

Rubbing Sasuke’s head placatingly, Sakura said, “I should be staying in the village for the next week too—there’s a lot of hospital stuff I’ve got to do.” Nodding to Teuchi as he placed her order in front of her, she added, “I’m glad you’ll be in the village this week, we should train together again—if you want,” she fiddled with her wooden chopsticks. “It was great to spar with you and watch you, I learned a lot.”

Jealous that he wasn’t invited to the spar, Sasuke wrenched himself from Shisui’s grasp and aggressively ripped his chopsticks apart. Noting his little brother’s behavior, Itachi chuckled and said, “I just told Naruto I’d stop by your training this week, otouto.”

“Tch,” Sasuke responded. But, the way his shoulders relaxed and he smiled gently into his bowl made it clear he was pleased.

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto started. “I feel like I never see you anymore!” he said between bites of ramen. “Let’s do a Team 7 get together—you, me, teme, Kaka-sensei, Yamato Taichou, and Sai too!” he slurped noisily.

“Yeah you’re right,” Sakura sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “With all my projects, the hospital, and,” she waved her hands distractedly, “we haven’t hung out in a while.” Frowning lightly she said, “We could do it at my place, but I don’t know if I could fit everyone…” she trailed off.

Sensing the opportunity, Shisui swooped in. “You should invite your friends over, Sasu-chan,” he mockingly admonished.

Ignoring Shisui’s baiting and staring down at his bowl, Sasuke grumbled.

“Absolutely no-“

“Your friends are coming over?” Itachi asked excitedly.

“No-“

“Yes!” chorused Naruto, Sakura, and Shisui.

“They’re,” Sasuke started, pointing his chopsticks at Naruto, “going to make a mess.”

Ignoring Sasuke’s continued rumblings, Itachi started to list off different food and dessert ideas to Naruto who grew more and more excited by his suggestions if his hand waving was anything to go by. Glancing sharply to his right at an extremely pleased Shisui, Sasuke scowled.

“I know you just took advantage of nii-san’s househusband fantasies,” Sasuke whispered sharply. In the background, Itachi was dreamily listing the various courses he thought would best suit Team 7’s tastes while Naruto and Sakura egged him on with ideas of their own.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Shisui responded smugly, leisurely slurping his noodles.

Irritated, Sasuke leaned across Shisui to talk some sense into his brother, but Itachi was staring serenely into space, using his full genius brain to plan out dinner. Huffing, Sasuke hunched in his seat and poked dejectedly at his noodles, missing the way Sakura peered past him.

___

Dinner at the Uchiha household was scheduled that Friday—a few days after lunch at Ichiraku’s. Shisui, conscious to not make another questionable fashion choice, opted for black training pants and a traditional Uchiha top—short sleeved and high collared with the Uchiha fan embroidered on the back.

Arriving at the head family’s home, he was greeted by a tired looking Fugaku who wearily told Shisui that everyone was in the kitchen. Laughing to himself, Shisui figured that Itachi and Mikoto had ran Fugaku to the ground with dinner preparations. Trailing after his uncle towards the kitchen, he saw Sasuke tending to a flower bouquet.

“Why are you here?” Sasuke asked, incensed.

He ignored the venom in his younger cousin’s eyes since he didn’t look very intimidating with carnations in hand. Shisui presented a tin-foil covered pan.

“He made shokupan,” Itachi said breezily.

“They should be here any minute! Sasuke, Fugaku, go set the table and get the plum wine out of the fridge,” Mikoto ordered, putting last minute touches on the pastries she and Itachi were decorating.

In a few minutes, there was knocking at the front door and Itachi went out to greet Sakura and Naruto.

“Come on in,” Itachi said happily. Leading them inside he said, “I ran to the store earlier today and got everyone slippers,” pointing to the neat row along the wall.

“Wow, Itachi-nii. You really got this mom thing down,” Naruto noted, nodding to himself.

“You think?” Itachi smiled serenely and Sakura giggled at his pastel yellow apron with white trimming.

“No one else could make it today,” Sakura said frowning. Handing a wrapped plant to Itachi she said, “Yamato Taichou and Sai are out on a mission, Kakashi said he was…busy…” she trailed off.

Humming to himself while inspecting the healthy green leaves of the plant and the tasteful wrapping, Itachi said, “Sakura, you really didn’t have to.” But the pleased look on his face said otherwise.

“Hey! I helped too!” Naruto interrupted loudly.

___

Settling himself at the low dining room table, Fugaku sat at the head of the table. To his right was Sakura, Naruto, and Sasuke. To his left sat Mikoto, Itachi, and Shisui.

“Wow, everything looks incredible,” Sakura gushed at the spread.

Naruto nodded enthusiastically, eyes gleaming. “Mikoto oba-chan, Itachi-nii, you guys really out did yourselves!”

“I helped too, dobe,” Sasuke grumbled.

“I made the shokupan!” Shisui chirruped.

It was a little too much food for the seven of them, Shisui noted. He looked down to the heaping bowl of white rice in front of him with a hearty serving of stew to its right—steam still emanating from both. Each person also had an individual portion of teriyaki salmon, its sweet glaze reflecting the dining room light above them. Sat on the middle of the traditional table, Itachi and Mikoto also prepared stir fried vegetables, soba salad, fried tonkatsu, mapo tofu, and tempura on large serving plates. The dishes took every space of the dining room table, some of it teetering dangerously close to an edge—the table overflowed with intermingling spices and glistening sauces.

Shisui blanched knowing that dessert was bound to be a similarly overwhelming experience.

Saying a brief thanks to his guests, Fugaku uttered a brief, “Itadakimasu,” and began eating.

___

Between the passing of dishes, clinking of chopsticks, and hums of pleasure, easy chatter filled the room.

“Thank you for the coconut oil dear, it works so well,” Mikoto smiled at Sakura over her glass of wine.

Dabbing her lips delicately after devouring several slices of tofu, Sakura shook her head.

“It was no problem—thank you,” she said, looking at Mikoto and Itachi, “for the dumplings. I ate them all in one sitting they were incredible,” she gushed.

Sasuke grumbled beside her, saying he had helped too and that it shouldn’t be physically possible to consume that many dumplings at once, but his mother cut him off.

“I heard we have Hyuuga Neji-kun to thank for the hair tips?” Mikoto teased.

At the mention of Neji, Shisui slowed his chewing and conceded defeat to Naruto, who was not-so-subtly trying to eat all of the tempura as quickly as possible. Shisui looked discreetly at Sakura to see how she would respond.

Sakura was caught by surprise at the comment and her spoon hovered in midair for a millisecond. Processing the joke, her shoulders shook lightly as she giggled and playfully rolled her eyes.

Naruto, with a mouthful of food said, “Neji does have nice hair, ‘ttebayo.”

Choking a little when Sasuke elbowed him in the stomach he stuttered, “A-ah, not as nice as yours, Sakura-chan!” The table laughed at the duo in response.

“Itachi-nii, you should quit ANBU and become a cook, this is the best food I’ve had in forever,” Naruto said dreamily.

Fugaku frowned deeply into his wine. “Yes, Itachi, when will you quit ANBU and fully take on your duties as clan head?”

Fugaku’s shoulder length brown hair had streaks of gray in it, which Mikoto lovingly said made him look refined although she had hardly aged in the past five years. His face showed years of exhaustion and responsibilities with his heavy brow and fine lines at the side of his mouth. His hands were still rough and battle worn despite it being years since his active duty days. Despite it all, his eyes were still keen, sharp as flint, and just as dark.

The rest of the table stilled with Fugaku’s displeasure—the Uchihas either frowning at Fugaku or throwing Itachi an apologetic glance. Sakura and Naruto ate impossibly quicker.

“Well Father,” Itachi started breezily, taking a languid sip of his glass. “You still have life in you yet.”

Preparing for an even more disgruntled Fugaku, Naruto and Sakura nervously chattered about the incredible food, piling each other’s plates even higher, and Shisui off handedly wondered if Sasuke had ever mentioned that Sakura’s appetite matched Naruto’s.

Surprising his guests, Fugaku wearily sighed into his rice bowl. “Son, please put me out of my misery so I can spend time with my wife.”

Over Mikoto’s pleased giggles and Sasuke’s embarrassed choke, Sakura and Naruto stopped their babbling to stare openly at Fugaku. Realizing that their surprise was obvious, they busied themselves again with food, ignoring Sasuke’s second-hand disgust.

“And Shisui,” Fugaku said sharply, cutting off whatever sly retort he had prepared on the tip of his tongue, “when will you fully accept the mantle as the police force commander?” he questioned.

Ignoring Shisui’s attempt at a response, Fugaku braced his hands on the floor behind his back and looked up at the ceiling. “Why Itachi and Sasuke don’t want to take over the police force is beyond me,” he muttered to himself as Mikoto gently consoled him.

Laughing at his uncle’s tiredness Shisui joked, “Well oji-san, given that Itachi’s biggest dream is being a full-time househusband—” Naruto looked incredibly interested at this prospect. “—and mine is living on oba-san’s food for the rest of my life,” Sasuke rolled his eyes at this. “Maybe we’ll make you suffer a little longer.”

Shisui raised his glass to Itachi, who clinked his glass in return, happily sipping the plum wine at the expense of an entirely spent Fugaku who mumbled to himself about shattered retirement dreams.

___

After dinner, Naruto and Sakura helped clear out the dishes despite Mikoto and Itachi’s protests. While Sasuke and Fugaku were relegated to cleaning the dishes, Shisui prepared the tea while Mikoto and Itachi set the table with dessert.

Surprisingly, dessert wasn’t as overwhelming as Shisui thought it would be. There was sakuramochi at the center of the table, elegantly plated in a neat line on a porcelain plate, the pickled blossom leaf folded meticulously over each cake. Itachi’s eyes crinkled towards Sakura while setting it down. Mikoto placed the higashi towards the end of the table, near Sasuke’s seat. The biscuit-like sweet, Shisui noticed amusedly, had uzumaki swirls pressed onto each biscuit. Shisui’s shokupan was also set down alongside a small pot of honey and jam. The last dessert was Fugaku’s favorite: butter cookies. Each cookie was a perfect circle and slightly browned at the edges. But to Shisui’s increased amusement, a black, three-tomoe sharingan was stenciled in icing on each cookie.

Settling back at the table, Sasuke looked at each dessert in growing exasperation before taking in the sharingan butter cookies. He glanced at Itachi in thinly veiled disbelief, but Itachi was intently staring at his guests’ reactions.

Sakura and Naruto had expressions of awe on their face. Naruto, with one hand on his protruding stomach looked a little nauseous when he said, “Wow…you really went all out on this team dinner…it looks so good dattebayo,” he finished weakly.

Sakura, trying to make up for her teammate’s lack of gusto quickly chirped, “I’m SO impressed with your icing skills,” she gushed, “I tried once and it was a complete failure,” she pouted, running a hand through her ponytail. “I’m so full from that incredible dinner but we’ll,” she quickly darted her eyes to Naruto, “make sure and try everything,” she finished, silencing Naruto’s protests.

As Itachi went prattled on the fine details of piping, not icing, because they’re obviously very different, Shisui idly wondered if Sasuke never hosted team dinners because of Itachi.

___

As everyone forced themselves to eat as much dessert as possible for Itachi’s sake, at the head of the table, Mikoto was cajoling her husband in hushed tones and nudging him with her shoulder.

“Sakura dear,” Mikoto started, which silenced the rest of the table. Mikoto turned her head to her husband. He responded by straightening his back and clearing his throat a few times.

“Sakura,” he started stiffly, not quite looking her in the eye. “Thank you,” Fugaku said, “for your work with the clan medics.

Shisui looked at his uncle, then Sakura in surprise—he hadn’t known just how close she was to the Uchiha clan. Looking around the table, no one else seemed to be surprised with her work, more so surprised at Fugaku’s thanks.

Sakura smiled kindly at Fugaku and Mikoto. “You’re welcome, the sharingans a tricky kekkai genkai and the blockages in the delicate blood vessels are definitely hard to work with, but working with Sasuke and Kakashi gave me a leg up. I’m just happy you allowed me to treat your clan members and train your clan medics.”

“With your instruction, Sakura-chan,” Mikoto began, “nearly every clan member has noted a mental and physical improvement. The Uchiha owe you a life debt.” Fugaku, Itachi, and Sasuke nodded in agreement.

Blushing at the compliment, Sakura shook her head. “Thank you, but you all don’t owe me anything. The payment, as agreed, was fully enough.”

Shisui paused. He hadn’t realized that Sakura had found a way to ease the pain the sharingan brought. Having awoken his mangekyo at an extremely young age, he was used to the near perpetual eyestrain and frequent migraines that came with overuse. He had given up on his clan medics’ treatment for his eyes since they’d been ineffective over the years. Incredibly interested at the prospect of relieving his pain he quickly turned to Sakura.

She was still talking to Fugaku and Mikoto, trying to convince them that they didn’t have to commit to any favors for her, and all of his thoughts stilled. She was talking with her hands, trying to explain that she was just glad to be of service to her teammate’s family, and by extension, the village. That no one should be in chronic pain if there was anything she could do about it. Her cheeks were flushed with the wine, and he was taken by the fullness of her lips. Wet with the plum wine, they glistened in the soft overhead light. Every so often, he could see a glint of her pink tongue as she laughed, or caught the corner of her lip.

Noticing that Itachi was staring at him with amusement, Shisui mentally shook himself out of his stupor.

“Ne, Sakura-sensei, I hadn’t realized you figured out the sharingan. Any chance I could schedule a doctor’s appointment with you?” He smiled cheekily at her, ignoring the way Sasuke and Naruto threw daggers at him.

“See, Sakura-chan,” Mikoto said, “you take such good care of our boys—no matter what you say, we’ll always be in you debt.”

“Mikoto-san—” Sakura looked down at her shirt—a standard issue jounin top—which now had a dark wine stain blooming at her stomach.

Naruto looked sheepishly at her, grabbing his napkin. “Sorry…at least it wasn’t your kimono this time?” Naruto said as he dabbed.

“Aw man,” Sakura complained, “this is one of my last good ones too.” While it was customary for shinobi to keep one or two sets of pristine uniforms for show—if they were on guard duty for a prestigious client, or to maintain appearances for foreign dignitaries—the reality was that most shinobi were running around in repeatedly stained, slightly tattered, hole riddled uniforms until they were unwearable.

Getting up to rinse her shirt in the sink, Mikoto stopped her. “Let me get you something to change into,” she said, rising from her seat. At the same time, Sasuke stood up, saying he’d get something of his, and missed the way Shisui had grabbed the back of his own shirt collar and started to undress. Itachi yanked the hem of Shisui’s shirt down and Fugaku stared at Shisui like he was stupid.

“No, no, sit back down Sasuke,” Mikoto said quickly, “look how pretty Sakura’s hair is today,” gesturing at her pink locks, “I’ll have to get her something of mine.” Mikoto placed a hand at Sakura’s upper back and ushered her along.

Sitting back down, Sasuke stared after his mom and teammate in silent confusion over the correlation of Sakura’s everyday pony tail and clothes.

After a few minutes, Mikoto and Sakura shuffled back into the main dining area. Mikoto walked slightly behind Sakura, staring intently at her sons’ and nephew’s faces. Catching the glint in her eye, Fugaku sighed.

Sakura changed into a loose black sweater with an Uchiha fan stitched on the breast. The sweater itself had a similar cut to the jounin top, and was slightly loose on Sakura’s frame. Seeing his teammate, Sasuke furrowed his brow. He had several shirts exactly like that. Sakura also probably had several shirts like that—it wasn’t particularly nice even—why did it have to be his mother’s, he wondered. What does it have to do with her hair—did ponytails have some significance he hadn’t known about? Deep in thought, he continued to scrutinize while Itachi happily munched on butter cookies. Glancing nonchalantly at Sakura he offered a “Hm,” and went back to cajoling Naruto into eating more.

Shisui was gone. The thought of Sakura wearing his clothes with the Uchiha fan would be forever branded in memory. He imagined quiet mornings with her as he made her coffee as she got ready in the mornings. He imagined how she’d look wearing one of his t-shirts—the oversized fit exposing the cream of her shoulder and him kissing the open space.

He watched her as she spoke. The slender curve of her neck, the peach fuzz on her cheeks, and the irresistible plumpness of her lips mesmerized him. Shisui felt the rush of chakra to his eyes, activating his sharingan, and quickly turned his head.

“Thank you for the meal,” Sakura said, rising from her seat, bowing to Mikoto and Itachi.

“Yeah, dinner was great thank you so much!” Naruto chimed in. “Ne, ne, Sakura-chan,” leaning towards her with a glint in his eyes, “why don’t you stay and sleepover! It’ll be like our genin days!” Naruto cheered.

Lightly grimacing, Sakura responded, “I have a shift at the hospital at six in the morning—maybe next time,” she apologized, although she didn’t look sorry at all.

“It must be exhausting having multiple full time jobs,” Itachi said sagely, still munching on butter cookies.

“Yes.” Fugaku deadpanned. “I wonder.”

Completely ignoring his father, Sasuke got up and heaved Naruto with him as well. Nodding to his mother, he jutted his chin to Sakura then jerked his head at the door.

“God, teme—use your words!” Naruto yelled, swatting the back of Sasuke’s head. Ducking before Naruto could hit him, Sasuke jabbed the side of Naruto’s stomach, grinning when he doubled over and wheezed. “W-we’re gonna walk S-Sakura-chan home,” he managed to get out, glaring at Sasuke from his hunched over position.

Seeing his chance, Shisui shot up from his seat and clapped a heavy hand onto Naruto’s back, forcing the blonde to stay hunched over. Cheerfully he said, “I’ll do it! My apartment’s on the way anyways and you’re staying here!” Squeezing Sasuke’s shoulder forcefully, Shisui grinned at his younger cousin trying not to flinch in his vice grip.

Raising a brow, Sakura looked at Shisui unimpressed, although the corner of her lip was curling. Itachi mirrored Sakura, except he was actually unimpressed. Fugaku massaged his nose bridge and his wife hid her smile behind her hand.

“Sasuke, Naruto, come help with the dishes,” Mikoto said.

Sakura gave once last bow to Sasuke’s parents and waved at her friends before heading out.

___

Sakura’s apartment was not on the way to Shisui’s. In fact, it was on the opposite side of the village.

But, there was no way he’d miss the opportunity to talk to her one-on-one without the intrusion of pesky teammates or baby cousins. They walked leisurely side by side, shoulders occasionally bumping, as he basked in her undivided attention. The walk to her apartment was made in quiet tones, careful not to break the stillness that surrounded them.

Crickets chirping in the background and the moon softly illuminating their way, Shisui, for the first time with Sakura, felt at ease. He wondered if maybe they were meant for this—quiet conversations under the moonlight, with her wearing the Uchiha crest.

#shisui uchiha #sakura haruno #shisaku #shisaku fanfiction #sakura x shisui #sakura x uchiha #shisui fanfiction #naruto fanfiction

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kjack89 · 3 years ago

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An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 1/?)

Because nothing says ‘independence day’ like writing the participants in a French rebellion as members of the British upper class...

The Bridgerton AU that no one asked for. Will be at least 4 chapters, probably, to be published on a schedule only God herself can predict. Developing E/R, hijinks and shenanigans. All of the shenanigans.

One might recall when, not too long ago, the author of this paper hung up her pen and retired from reporting on the drama that each new season of fresh-faced debutantes and their endlessly anxious mothers brings. But alas, dear Reader, the excitement of this season has proven too much for this Author to suffer without company – which is why the pen has been passed to a new scribe.

But the fortuitous timing of the season has not been met with equally thrilling events for sharing here, as indeed, the most recent ball, hosted annually at the start of the season by the ever-insufferable Thénardiers, was positively under-attended. Not by the eager mothers that are the backbone of any season or their equally eager daughters, but by the young, eligible men who usually at least deign to make an appearance, dance a few dances, and exchange niceties as is expected for men of their station.

Instead, the only poor sap who wandered into the Thénardiers’ den of matchmaking was the Baron of Pontmercy, who was positively beset by hopeful ingénues, the most brazen of which was undoubtedly the Thénardiers’ eldest daughter, Éponine. While this Author notes that Miss Thénardier has had a patchy history with suitors and thus cannot be fully blamed for attempting to sink her claws into one as eligible as the baron, this Author must also sympathize with Baron Pontmercy, who seemed only to find himself with one moment to himself.

Then again, rumor has it that his single moment was interrupted by an unknown young lady with an equally unknown chaperone who whisked her away posthaste. Her identity is one mystery both this Author and Baron Pontmercy are equally eager to discover, but the more pressing question is where the others of Baron Pontmercy’s gender were when they should have been equally beset by potential brides.

Never fear: Whatever answers I find, dear Reader, I shall certainly share with other enquiring minds. For a nominal fee, of course. While there are rumors of young men meeting in the backroom of a certain gentlemen’s club to discuss the overthrow of society, capitalism, and the King himself, this Author, being of the gentler sex, finds herself unable to obtain an invite, and as such, alas, cannot bring herself to comply with their lofty goals. LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 20 MARCH 1831

The air in the backroom at the Musain Gentlemen’s Club was hazy with smoke and thick with plentiful conversation as its guests, all young men dressed in their dinner best, traded stories and jokes in between sips of their drinks.

At least one among them was not drinking, though – Enjolras, who sat in an overlarge armchair towards the back of the room, his back to one of the large windows that spanned almost the entire height of the wall. He alone was also not joining his friends in their merriment, his brow instead creased as he read over something.

When he had finished, he glanced up. “Combeferre,” he called, barely raising his voice despite the cacophony of the room.

Not that he needed to: the moment he spoke, the room fell quiet as all eyes glanced at him as if waiting for him to continue. In return, he just arched an eyebrow at them. “Well, don’t let me put an end to your fun.”

A dark haired man sitting at a table in the far corner playing cards with two others raised his glass in a mocking toast. “Worry not,” he called in return. “You won’t.”

Laughter broke out yet again at that, and most of their number returned to their previous conversations as Combeferre pulled up a chair next to Enjolras’s. Enjolras pursed his lips, looking unamused. “Why is Grantaire even here?” he asked Combeferre, who, quite to the contrary, looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“I imagine because you have not yet told him that you wish for him to leave and never return,” Combeferre said evenly before giving Enjolras a rather assessing look. “Assuming, of course, that is what you wish.”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “That’s not the point—”

Combeferre cleared his throat. “No, the point is that you had a comment, I assume, about the pamphlet I gave you to review.”

Enjolras still looked disgruntled, but seemed more than willing to allow the change in subject. “The pamphlet is fine, but I imagine you already knew that.” He handed the pamphlet draft back to Combeferre before asking, “What do you imagine the distribution schedule to look like? With Parliament sitting this week—”

He was interrupted by a thin, rather-nervous looking man appearing at his elbow, the doorman to the establishment who was paid a decent sum by each man inside the room to not interrupt them and to report nothing of their comings and going to any who might enquire. When Enjolras had made that arrangement, he had been thinking of the police; when his friends had followed his lead, most were thinking of their mothers.

“M’Lord Enjolras, I do beg your pardon—” he started, sounding almost as nervous as he looked.

Enjolras’s brow furrowed again. “It’s fine, what is it?” he asked, a touch impatiently.

The doorman bobbed his head and cleared his throat. “There is a, ah, a woman seeking entry.”

Bahorel, seated nearby, let out a wolf whistle. “The young ladies of the season are getting restless!” he crowed, to much laughter.

“Restless, and bold, if they are coming into the city to seek their groom, and without a chaperone to boot,” Bossuet said with a grin.

“Leave to Enjolras to be the one to cause all tradition to break,” Jehan sniggered.

Enjolras could feel his ears burning red but he studiously ignored the jeers and catcalls from his friends, instead frowning at the doorman. “May I ask why are you telling me this?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice even. “Last I checked, it was your policy to restrict admittance to men, despite my protestations to the contrary.”

“Of course, M’Lord, it’s just…” The doorman quailed slightly at the look Enjolras gave him. “The woman in question claims to be your mother.”

Immediately, all jokes ceased as identical, horror-stricken looks crossed the faces of each of his friends. Enjolras blanched, all the blood draining from his face. “Did you confirm that I was inside?” he asked, a little desperately.

The doorman shook his head, his eyes widening. “No, of course not, m’lord’s discretion being of utmost importance to this establishment.” He hesitated. “That said, she did not appear to believe our denial, and is threatening to come inside and verify for yourself that you are not here.”

Enjolras groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course she is,” he sighed. He glanced at Combeferre as if considering asking for his assistance, but seemed to think better of it, instead standing and drawing himself up to his full height. “Right,” he said. “Well, I think you’ve got everything handled here, so I suppose I’ll just go, er, handle this situation.”

Combeferre again looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. “Of course,” he said. “And, if you do not return, I shall call upon you later this week, shall I?”

“Yes, but the question will be more whether you should call upon me at my house or at the hospital,” Enjolras muttered, and it was to Combeferre’s credit that he still somehow managed not to laugh.

The same could not be said for Grantaire, who started humming what Enjolras recognized vaguely as a funeral dirge as soon as he headed towards the door, and Enjolras gave him the nastiest glare he could muster. Of course, Grantaire was unaffected – if anything, it only caused his grin to widen, and he raised his cup in yet another mocking toast as Enjolras swept out of the room to go deal with his mother.

It was anyone’s guess whether his mother or Grantaire irritated him more.

He started to ask the doorman where his mother was, but found that he did not need to ask – her voice was echoing all the way from the entrance hall. “I am the Dowager Marchioness of Enjolras,” she was practically shrieking, and Enjolras winced, mentally calculating how much money it would take to smooth this particular incident over. Certainly less than when Courfeyrac almost burned the place down, but almost certainly more than when Bahorel and Grantaire had gotten into a fistfight and broken two statues and a chandelier.

He really needed better friends.

And a different mother.

“I demand to speak with my son!” his mother continued, her voice rising in both volume and pitch. “And do not give me this nonsense that he is not here, I know quite well where my son is!”

“M’lady, I apologize, but as I have said, we cannot confirm that your son—”

“I shall confirm it for myself,” Enjolras interrupted, saving the poor proprietor, who had never looked more relieved to see him. “Mother, kindly stop screeching at these gentlemen for doing their jobs.” His mother spluttered incoherently but Enjolras knew better than to allow her the chance to regroup.

Instead, he grabbed her by the elbow and steered her to the door, glancing over his shoulder to nod his thanks at the proprietor. As soon as they were outside the building, Enjolras dropped any pretense at propriety. “What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, not releasing his mother from his grip. “Coming all the way into the city to find me? Pray tell what could possibly have been so important to cause such a scene!”

His mother yanked her arm from his grasp and glared up at him. “A scene?” she repeated, her voice deathly quiet. “My dear son, if you consider that a scene, you are ill-prepared for what is soon to follow.”

Enjolras sighed and tried not to roll his eyes. “There is no need for theatrics—”

Without warning, his mother slapped him across the face. “Theatrics?” she hissed. “When I have spent every waking moment these past several years trying to ensure your future and the future of our house!”

She made as if to hit him again but Enjolras caught her wrist, staying her hand. “Madam, you may be the Dowager Marchioness but I am the Marquess of Enjolras, and I will not permit you to assault me in the streets, my mother or not.” He released her arm before adding sardonically, “Besides, think of the gossip.”

Again his mother gave him no warning to gird himself, but this time, she burst into tears, sobbing into his shirt. “Oh, for the love of—” Enjolras took her again by the elbow, gentler this time, and led her to where her carriage waited. “Get a hold of yourself,” he snapped. “You have already made enough of a scene this evening.”

“Perhaps a scene is what it will take!” she half-shouted in return. “For you to finally listen to me, to hear what I have been telling you!” Enjolras rolled his eyes, holding out his hand to help her into her carriage, but she stubbornly refused to move. “Since you clearly don’t listen to me when I make arrangements solely for your benefit.”

“I assure you, you have never once done anything solely for my benefit,” Enjolras said tiredly. “But if it will stop your screaming then please, tell me the latest way in which I have ruined your plans for my future.”

“The Thénardier ball!” his mother wailed, crying again. “All those eligible young ladies, and you could not even deign to show your face! How am I to get you married at this rate?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes so hard he half-feared he would pull a muscle. “Hang the bloody Thénardier ball,” he ground out, hesitating for only a moment before picking his mother up and placing her inside the carriage, swinging up after her before she could protest.

“What are you doing?” she cried as the carriage moved off at double speed, and Enjolras thanked whatever higher power there was that his mother’s driver also clearly did not wish to linger.

Enjolras sighed. “You wanted me attention,” he said tiredly. “So you have it, albeit not in public where you clearly wanted it.”

For one long moment, his mother just glared at him, tears shining on her cheeks. Then she sighed and sat upright, her pose turning almost prim as she drew a linen handkerchief from her sleeve and delicately dabbed the tears from her cheeks. “Very well,” she said calmly, all traces of earlier hysteria gone in an instant, and Enjolras realized immediately that he had been duped, that he had played directly into her hands.

She had anticipated that making a scene would be the easiest way to get him to leave with her.

And now she had him as a captive audience for however long it took for her driver to reach her house. And while he was not a betting man, he would wager all his money and lands that she had directed her driver to take the long way.

His mother was smiling at him, a cold, unpleasant smile, and Enjolras groaned, tipping his head back against the pillowed cushions. “Please don’t tell me that you really pulled all of that because you wished to discuss the Thénardier ball.”

“Don’t be foolish,” she said before tapping his knee. “And sit upright, you will cause your clothes to wrinkle.” Enjolras groaned and reluctantly sat upright, glaring balefully at her as he waited for her to continue. “No, I merely wished to discuss something and this seemed the easiest way.”

“Then by all means, please tell me: what do you want to discuss?”

“Why, what else?” she asked, a small smirk lifting the corners of her mouth. “Your marriage.”

----------

There were few things that Enjolras loathed more than being hoodwinked by his own mother into a conversation he’d been spending the past several years avoiding, but as he stood staring up at the rather imposing façade of a house he had been to only perhaps a handful of times, he thought this just might rank.

Still, his options were decidedly limited, and he hesitated only a moment more before climbing the stairs to the front door, knocking briskly. In telling of a house less used to visits during the season, it took a moment for the butler to answer the door, and Enjolras shifted uncomfortably on the stoop as he waited.

“May I help you?” the butler asked as he opened the door.

“Yes,” Enjolras said. “I’m here to see Grantaire.”

The butler eyed him warily. “And who should I tell Mr. Grantaire is here to see him?”

It took everything in Enjolras not to roll his eyes. “Tell him that the Marquess of Enjolras requests his presence,” he said dryly, hating the way the butler’s eyes widened when he realized just who was standing in the doorway.

“Of– of course, m’lord,” the butler said, immediately opening the door wider to usher Enjolras indoors. “Beg your pardon, m’lord. I’ll just, ah, go fetch Mr, Grantaire.”

He retreated up the stairs and Enjolras finally did roll his eyes, sighing heavily as he wandered a little further indoors. He had spent half his life, it seemed, going from one grand house to another, so very little surprised him, but he was intrigued by what he might find in Grantaire’s house. While his own park-adjoining manor had been in his family for generations, and was decorated accordingly, Grantaire came from new money, and this house had belonged to a different family entirely not even a decade before.

He paused to examine a small portrait of two young children, a boy and a girl, when he heard footsteps clattering on the stairs and he turned to look up as Grantaire joined him, a jacket rather hastily thrown on and buttoned incorrectly.

“My Lord.”

Grantaire’s voice was pitched just slightly higher than usual, in a way that indicated genuine surprise at finding Enjolras standing in his foyer, but somehow still retained the telltale lilt that Enjolras had long since realized meant Grantaire was making fun of him.

He scowled automatically. “Enjolras,” he corrected with an exasperated half-sigh.

Grantaire inclined his head, a smirk twisting his lips. “My lord Enjolras,” he said, and Enjolras’s scowl deepened.

“Just Enjolras,” he said flatly, not waiting for Grantaire to escort him into the house, instead crossing the foyer to peer into the front sitting room.

“By all means, make yourself at home,” Grantaire said, following him.

Enjolras twisted his head to give Grantaire a smirk of his own. “As you seem so keen to remind me, I outrank you,” he said. “And believe me when I say this is one time I will feel no guilt using the trappings of the nobility to my advantage.”

Grantaire just snorted, brushing past him into the sitting room, ignoring the tea that had been set on the table and instead making his way over to the drink cart against the far wall. “Forgive me, but I can think of many instances where you undoubtedly used your title and your family to your advantage without any guilt,” he said dryly, pouring himself half a glass full of amber liquid before pausing, considering it, and adding another finger. “But let’s save that particular fight for a different time.” He turned back to Enjolras and raised his glass in a mock toast. “For now, before I forget my manners any further, let me say welcome to my home, and please, allow me to pour you a cup of tea.”

“I am capable of pouring my own tea, thanks,” Enjolras said, a little stiffly, and he sat down on one armchair before leaning forward to rather stubbornly do just that.

Grantaire did not join him, as if he thought keeping physical distance between them might keep things civil. “Only you would think that hospitality was an insult.”

Enjolras arched an eyebrow. “The way you said it, it was.”

“You underestimate my capacity for being genuinely polite,” Grantaire said dryly, taking a large sip of his whiskey.

“Do I?”

“Tell me, my Lord—” Enjolras gritted his teeth but chose not to interrupt him. “—if not to insult me to my face in my own home, what brings you here, and at tea time no less?”

His voice was calm, pleasant even, but Enjolras felt himself flush in realization that he had done exactly that. And no matter how frequently he might wish to throttle Grantaire with his own hands, that was offensive even for him. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking down at his tea as he stirred it. “I have been rude.

Grantaire looked briefly surprised, as if he had not expected an apology. But then his smirk was back in full force. “All is forgiven...my lord.” Enjolras really might shatter his teacup at this rate. “But you still didn’t answer my question as to why you are here.”

Enjolras set his teacup down and straightened, looking Grantaire in the eye. “I came to ask for your help.”

Grantaire laughed. “So you come to my home, uninvited, you insult me to my face, and you still have the audacity to ask for my help?” He drained half of his whiskey in one long gulp. “You are lucky you have been granted the face of a Greek god, Apollo.”

“Don’t call me that,” Enjolras sighed, though he knew it was a losing battle. Grantaire had called him that on the first day they met, when Grantaire was finishing college and Enjolras just beginning, and he had continued to call him that for all the years since. “Look, I am sorry, and not just because I need your help. I am ill suited to polite society and the longer the season drags on, the more foul my temper becomes.”

Grantaire made a small noise of agreement. “You and I both,” he murmured, draining his glass and pouring himself another before finally joining Enjolras, settling into the armchair across from him. “Very well. You have my attention.”

Enjolras leaned forward, sudden urgency in every line of his body. “Word has it that you were instrumental in helping Lord Joly and Mr. Lesgle avoid scandal last season when both were in love with Lady Musichetta.”

“Well, we avoided a big scandal at least,” Grantaire said, eyeing Enjolras carefully. “There must always be a little bit of a scandal or none would believe it.”

Enjolras waved a dismissive hand. “Either way, all three are happy, and living at Lord Joly’s estate, and not a word about them has been wasted in Lady Whistledown’s papers this season.”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “I am astonished to learn you have read any of the newly-revived Lady Whistledown’s papers, let alone with enough frequency to speak with such authority on the subject.:

Enjolras flushed a mottled red and looked away. “It’s an easy conversation topic,” he muttered, “when I am forced to speak to those with whom I have nothing in common.”

“Such as the twittering nitwits your mother foists upon you at every turn?” Grantaire asked lightly.

Enjolras met his eyes evenly. “Exactly. And exactly why I am here.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “You’re here to better learn how to talk with women?” he asked, almost certainly purposefully obtuse. “I admit, I am an expert on the subject, but—”

“Of course not,” Enjolras snapped. “Not to mention if I did need help in that arena, you would be the last person I would turn to.”

Grantaire laughed. “Your loss, he said cheerfully. After all, to have bedded as many women as I with a face like mine requires quite the expert hand at wooing.” Enjolras rolled his eyes and Grantaire smirked before taking another sip of whiskey. “Very well. If you are not here for my help in speaking to young ladies to finally secure a marriage match, then why are you here?”

“Because I do need to marry someone,” Enjolras said, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “But I need it not to be real.” Again he met Grantaire’s eyes. “And you are the only person I can think of who can help me pull that off.”

#enjolras #grantaire #exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras's mother #les amis #les miserables #fanfiction #bridgerton au #lady whistledown #developing relationship #hijinks and shenanigans #and eventually #fake marriage #canon era sorta

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lala-ladybug · 4 years ago

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Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

#healing hands #jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj #yj fic #young justice #young justice fic

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baepsaesbae · 4 years ago

Text

Heal Me, Kill Me Ch.1

Pairing— Kim Namjoon x reader (only in this chapter), Kim Taehyung x reader (main focus) ft. Yoongi

Genre— Vampire!Taehyung x Vampire Hunter!y/n, ANGST, smut +18, comedy (i tried)

Warnings— Death, violence, oral (f receiving), fingering, explicit unprotexted sex

Word Count— 7.6k

Summary— You’re one of the best vampire hunters in the world. That's to be expected when your parents are the best of the best. Your life had solely revolved around ruthlessly killing vampires. You were essentially a cold blooded machine. However, things take a turn once you meet Kim Taehyung, your latest target.

A/N— Huge shoutout to @dee-ehn for this beautiful banner! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, please let me know what you think!

You didn’t choose this life. You had no past trauma that spurred you on to take this path. Most vampire hunters became hunters because a loved one was murdered and they wanted revenge or some bullshit like that. Not you though.

You were born into this lifestyle. Your parents were allegedly the best hunting team in history. They were usually too busy with work, so you were practically raised by the faction itself. The grandmaster of the Vampyre Extermination Company (VEC for short) was your main parental figure.

While normal children went to school, you were being trained in combat. The only lessons you had were those pertaining to vampires. You knew everything there was to know about them. Being the youngest member of the company, it was clear that you were a prodigy.

By the age of 13, you had already killed 5 vampires. Most seasoned hunters only kill 5 in their entire lifetimes. You were incredibly smart, and used your youth to your advantage.

That was ten years ago. You had lost track of your kill count (not that it matters, it’s officially documented somewhere). You were now the youngest person ever to achieve the Expert Hunter title.

None of that fancy stuff matters to you. You get assigned a job, and you do it. That’s all it was. In fact, you were on a job at this very moment.

You were all dolled up sitting at the bar of a very busy nightclub, with a drink that you had no intention of drinking. Your assignment had been spotted frequenting this club quite often. He preyed on young women (as most of them do) and many of them had gone missing from this location.

You had on the skimpiest dress you could find. Its low cut neckline coupled with a push-up bra had your breasts nearly spilling out of the dress. Its tight material clung to your body to reveal your curves. You absolutely hated it.

“Why are you alone, pretty girl?” a drunk man stumbled up to you. He definitely wasn’t your target.

“I’m waiting for someone to kill,” you replied nonchalantly.

“To kill? That sounds kind of scary,” he put his hand on your waist.

You grabbed his wrist and twisted it, causing the man to cry out in agony.

“I don’t have time to waste on you. Get out of my sight or else I’ll break your wrist,” you warned with cold indifference.

The man scampered away as soon as you released him. You refocused your attention on the crowded dance floor. It’s possible that the vampire would smoothly dance with a girl before luring her to her doom.

You began to sigh in frustration when there was no sign of your target. Suddenly, the room’s temperature dropped. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, and goosebumps covered your body.

He had arrived.

There was no doubt about it. You felt a malevolent presence as soon as he entered the buidling. Your eyes scanned the club again, in search of the source. Finally, you found him.

There was a tall handsome man standing in front of the dance floor, surveying it as intensely as you were surveying him. He glanced your way, causing you to freeze up. When your eyes met, you shot him a coy smile, and turned to your drink.

Hopefully that was enough to pique his interest. You debated on whether you should sip your drink or not, to make you appear more vulnerable. It didn’t take long before a deep voice rang in your ear.

“Are you waiting on someone?” a seductive voice asked.

You could already tell he was using his charms. One of a vampire’s many tricks was their gift of persuasion and seduction. Supernatural powers were involved, of course, but their good looks helped seal the deal.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” you replied before sipping your drink.

“If you were, you probably wouldn’t have smiled my way,” the man took a seat beside you.

“Ah, you got me there. You’re a sharp one huh?” you smiled.

“In more ways than one, dear,” the man chuckled before extending a hand, “I’m Namjoon. Pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m ___. The pleasure is all mine,” you shake his hand, taking note of how eerily cold it was. This was definitely him.

The night went on with playful flirting and shallow attempts at getting to know each other. You were well aware that everything both you and Namjoon said was a lie. Namjoon insisted on ordering you a drink after you finished the first one but you politely declined, saying you’ve had more than enough for one night (another blatant lie).

Namjoon finally made his move. He leaned over to you and kissed your exposed shoulder.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asked. You could feel how heavily laced his words were with mystical persuasion.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you kissed his cheek.

It wasn’t hard to flirt when your target was so attractive. In fact, that’s how most of your hunts have gone ever since you got older. You’d seduce them into letting their guard down, and kill them when they weren’t paying attention. It was a slight perk that vampires were much better at fucking than humans, but you were willing to keep that information private.

Back at Namjoon’s apartment, he wasted no time getting you undressed. You were passionately making out with him on his bed when reached down to palm his clothed erection. Namjoon released a guttural moan.

“So impatient,” he chuckled, kissing down your throat.

His hands wandered down between your thighs, rubbing your clit. He kissed his way down your stomach, pausing before your heat. He delicately flicked his tongue down your folds. You bucked your hips up, begging for more. Namjoon slid in his long slender fingers while his tongue worked your clit.

He expertly curved his fingers into you, hitting that special spot perfectly. His intensity picked up, causing your cries to get louder. He held you down as you started to squirm beneath him. He sucked on your clit as he rapidly pumped in and out of you.

You came without a warning, your body shaking from the impact. Namjoon licked up all of your juices. Your chest was heaving as Namjoon kissed a trail back up to your lips. His eyes were darkened with a dangerous hunger you were all too familiar with.

Going any further would be dangerous, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was too alluring to resist, plus your motto was that there’s no harm in having a little fun. A satisfied smile crept across your face after you tugged off his bottoms. His dick was just as big as you imagined, and you needed it inside of you immediately.

You immediately straddled Namjoon, lips still locked as you lowered yourself onto him. You moaned into his mouth as he filled you completely. Your hips moved on their own accord, leaving you no choice but to enjoy the ride. Namjoon let you take the lead, enjoying an unfamiliar balance of power in the bedroom. His hands rested on your hips as you rocked back and forth.

“You’re so hot. I could stay like this forever,” Namjoon praised.

“Have you ever been tied up before?” you asked before kissing his ear. As much as you wanted the night to continue, you knew Namjoon was at his limit. Endorphins were high, right now would be the perfect time to devour you.

“No, I haven’t. I’m usually the one doing the tying. But I’m always willing to try something new,” Namjoon smirked.

“Wait here then. And close your eyes!” you giggled.

Your legs were wobbly as you made your way to your discarded bag. You were delighted when you reentered the bedroom to find Namjoon still closing his eyes.

“Good boy,” you cooed while taking out silver chains.

“Are those chains I hear?” Namjoon sounded excited.

“Yes, I’m gonna chain you up real good. You’ve been a bad boy,” you whispered into his ear. Namjoon groaned, and you noticed his cock twitch.

With impossibly quick motions, you wrapped the chains around Namjoon’s wrists. The silver burned his skin upon impact. There was no need to chain up his legs, as the silver severely weakened him. He tried to wiggle free of the chain but it was no use. His eyes darted open to see you smiling down at him.

“There’s no use in struggling, Namjoon. These chains are pure silver and are anointed with holy water for extra measure. I am ___, from the Vampyre Extermination Company. You have been found guilty of numerous kidnappings and murders,” you say as you take out a wooden stake.

“Fuck you, you bitch!” Namjoon spat at you, fully baring his fangs.

“That’s not very nice, dear. You were so sweet to me before. Well, before you were going to kill me of course,” you laughed as if it were a joke, “Thank you for showing me a good time. May your soul rest easy in the next life.”

Namjoon bared his fangs at you while you plunged the stake into his chest. Blood gushed out of his wound. Cries of agony filled the room. A few moments later, Namjoon’s body turned to dust. The job was complete.

You made a call while getting dressed. Your clothes were soaked with blood, but that was nothing new.

“Hi, I’m gonna need a clean up crew at this address. Nothing super messy, just burn the bed I guess. Yeah, the mess was pretty much contained. Mhm. Yeah. Ok thank you,” you say curtly.

Back in your hotel room, you rewarded yourself with a bubble bath (after a shower of course). With most of the blood scrubbed off, you relaxed in the fragrant water. You had a habit of reflecting on your life after every job.

Was your life ever going to be normal? Probably not.

Were you going to die on one of your jobs? Probably.

Do you enjoy your job/life? Maybe? You couldn’t tell.

You did acknowledge that you loved the thrill of the hunt. You enjoyed acting weak and innocent, only to violently kill your targets. The sex and stuff was a nice bonus too. You were taught that vampires prefer to ‘wine and dine’ their prey. Apparently happy people make for happy meals. Due to this, it’s quite common for vampires to seduce their victims before devouring them.

‘Do vampires make other vampires?’ you asked when you were a child.

‘Yes. But they rarely do that because they are solitary creatures. Also, only the strongest vampires can turn humans since it drains their own life force tremendously,’ was the answer.

You got an assignment about once every month. During the time that you don’t have anyone to kill, you enjoyed traveling. The VEC pays handsomely. You never understood where all the money came from, until you were told that the deceased vampires’ assets get transferred to the VEC. How that happens, you had no clue. But it doesn’t matter; you get paid well enough to travel wherever you wanted to at a moment’s notice.

You perused the internet for flights to France. You’ve been craving macarons lately. You were about to buy a ticket when your phone rang. You groaned when you saw the VEC caller ID.

“Hello?” you answered.

“___. I need you to come down to HQ immediately.”

“Grandmaster?” your eyes widened. You never got a direct call from him. Whatever this was, it must be urgent.

He hung up as soon as he delivered the message. Typical. He’s a very straight to the point kind of guy.

There goes the rest of your relaxing evening. You packed up all of your belongings. A driver was already waiting for you in the lobby. Again, you had no idea how the VEC can be so quick and efficient, but you’re thankful for it regardless.

The car brought you to a private airport, in which a jet was already ready for you.

‘This must actually be serious,’ you thought. The VEC was boujee, as they usually flew you out first class, but the private jet is a first.

Within a few hours, you had finally arrived at HQ. You were greeted warmly upon entrance. After a quick congratulations on another successful job, you were escorted to the Grandmaster’s office.

“___. Please take a seat,” the grandmaster said as he paced back and forth.

“Is everything okay, Yoongi?” you asked. You always dropped the formalities when you were alone together. This man had been more of a parent to you than your actual parents, with whom you only had fleeting encounters with.

“It’s your parents. ___, I’m so sorry. They were killed on a hunt,” Yoongi placed a firm grip on your shoulder.

You silently processed the news. More than anything, you felt shocked. Shocked, because they were supposed to be the best hunters in the world. Shocked, because you felt nothing. You felt no sadness, no anger. You were so detached from your parents, they might as well have been strangers.

Yoongi on the other hand, looked like he was about to break down. He had known your parents for a long time. They were practically family to him, just like you.

You get up to embrace Yoongi in a long hug. You seldom showed true acts of affection, but this was as genuine as it gets. More than anything, you felt sad for Yoongi. You couldn’t fathom what he felt. You couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose a loved one, mostly due to the fact that you didn’t have any loved ones. Yoongi may have been the closest thing to it.

You helped sit Yoongi down. After he was seated, you poured him a drink. Lord knows he needed it.

“Did their target kill them?” you asked, breaking the heavy silence.

“Yes. Their bodies were drained and left out in a field. I began to think the worst when your parents failed to make two check in calls in a row,” Yoongi took a swig of his drink.

“Their target must be pretty powerful…” your voice trailed off.

“He is. I knew he was strong, but taking out our two best? Inconceivable,” Yoongi scoffed, “I’m gonna kill the bastard with my own hands, I swear to God--”

“I’ll go,” you interrupted.

“You?” Yoongi blinked, “Absolutely not. I already lost your parents, I can’t lose you too--”

“You haven’t been in the field for years. A male vampire would never trust you, so you would have to resort to immediate violence. If he took out both of my parents, then his physical strength must be no joke,” you stated the facts.

Yoongi looked at you dumbfounded before taking another long sip of his drink.

“Fine. But I’ll go with you--”

“No, you won’t. Your presence will blow my cover.”

“I can stay in the next town over.”

“Just to snoop around and fuck up my hunt? No thanks.”

“God, you’re so fucking stubborn, kid. How about this? Give me a night to concoct a safe alibi for you. I get to plan out how your first encounter with him goes. You can choose to kill him on the spot, or go for your usual route,” Yoongi raised his eyebrows as he said the last bit.

“Works for me. I’m pretty sure I can’t suddenly kill him without the element of surprise and a shit ton of luck.”

“You’re willing to seduce your parents’ murderer?” Yoongi couldn’t hide the concern in his voice.

“This is just another job to me. A job is a job. Don’t let your personal feelings get in the way. That’s what you’ve always preached to me,” you shrugged.

That was Yoongi’s last straw. He pulled you in for a tight hug as a single tear rolled down his cheek. He kissed the top of your head.

“I’m truly sorry, ___. I never should have let you into this world. Your parents insisted that I train you. I should have refused, and let you live a normal life,” Yoongi apologized.

“Yoongi, you did nothing wrong. I’m perfectly fine the way I am. Believe it or not, I’ve probably saved a lot of people from becoming someone’s midnight snack,” you try to lighten the mood.

“I just worry about you, you know? It’s almost as if you’re my own kid,” Yoongi sighed, finally letting go of you, “Come back here tomorrow morning at 10am. I’ll have your assignment by then.”

“Please get some sleep, Yoongi,” you squeezed his hand.

“I can’t sleep. Not like this. To be honest, I’m afraid that I’ll dream about your parents,” Yoongi admitted.

Noticing that you didn’t know how to respond, he quickly dismissed what he said.

“I think the alcohol is getting to me. Don’t mind me. Go to sleep, kiddo,” he patted your head.

You excused yourself and headed to your room. Your new target has sparked intrigue. You were in awe at how powerful he must be. You concluded that he must be clever. Your parents knew every trick in the book. They knew how to hunt and kill every and any type of vampire. At least, you thought they did.

You drifted off to sleep. Your last thoughts lingered on the vampire who killed your parents.

That night, you had a strange dream.

You felt trapped. You couldn’t move your body. All of a sudden, you were freezing. The sound of water surrounded you. Everything was pitch black, and soon, it was getting harder to breathe.

“I loved you” you heard a muffled voice say.

You woke up in a cold sweat. What the hell was that? You couldn’t remember the last time you had a nightmare. You weren’t even sure if that could be classified as a nightmare. After getting up to drink some water, you went back to sleep without giving it a second thought.

“Yoongi, this is literally the worst cover you’ve ever made,” you admitted as you examined the file he handed you.

“I worked on it all night! I believe it’s foolproof,” Yoongi argued.

The bags under his eyes got impossibly darker, hinting at the fact that he probably did work on it all night. Upon realizing this, you decided to tone down your criticism.

“Maybe it could work. I’m just worried that I won’t be able to play the part,” you stated.

“I feel like this role is more natural than just being a flirt. But, of course, I could be mistaken,” Yoongi gave you a disapproving glance.

“Okay whatever. Yes, I’ll make it work,” you rolled your eyes.

You were flown out to the target’s town the next day. Your living arrangement had already been prepared. You found yourself settling into a small cottage surrounded by a forest. It looked like something out of a fairytale.

It was oddly freeing being able to go on a mission in normal clothes. There was no need for revealing and uncomfortable clothing. You didn’t have to beat your face with makeup or worry about how your hair looks. Yoongi emphasized the importance of being plain. You needed to be someone who could easily sneak up on the target.

So, with a regular t-shirt and jeans topped with a jacket, you made your drive to the target’s location. Even though Yoongi’s plan was less extreme than you’re used to, the possibility of it taking a turn for the worse was still present. After all, this was the monster who murdered your parents. You couldn’t afford to let your guard down. You took a deep breath. It was now or never.

You pulled up to an impressive mansion. From what you could tell, there were no neighbors for miles. The house looked like something from a horror movie. The yard was overgrown, and the building was decrepit.

There was a large fountain in the middle of the front courtyard. Unfortunately, the fountain had been neglected. The water was filthy and the statues were covered in moss, making them unidentifiable.

Now standing in front of a grand, or rather, once grand front door, you mustered up the strength to knock. You firmly knocked on the door three times. A minute passed, and you couldn’t hear anything from inside.

You tried again, knocking harder and for a bit longer. There was still no reply for a couple of minutes. You began to think maybe he had left. Or maybe he was so weary of strangers that you’d have to force your way in.

You tried a third time. You were about to yell, ‘Hello? Is anyone home?’, but the door slowly opened.

From behind it, peered out the most beautiful being you’ve ever seen in your life. He was so effortlessly stunning that you forgot why you were there for a second. A tall man with dark hair gave you a quizzical look.

“Can I help you?” his deep voice vibrated.

“Hi! I have a flower delivery for a Mr. Tom Davis?” you presented an extravagant bouquet of flowers to him.

“Sorry, you have the wrong house. Which is an incredible mistake, as I don’t have any neighbors remotely close by,” the man was still standing cautiously behind the door.

If you couldn’t lure him out, it would be damn near impossible to kill him like this. On the other hand, you weren’t too eager to try and have him invite you in.

“What really?” you glanced at the address, then dropped your jaw in surprise, “Oh my god, you’re right. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience! My first delivery, and I already botched it,” you began to mumble as you turned back to your car.

This was a calculated mistake, of course. This was all a ploy to make you seem naive and vulnerable, just in a more innocent way than you’re used to.

“Do you need help with directions?” the man called out to you. You smiled, this is just what you’d been waiting for. If you could just catch him off guard, you could easily lop off his head with the silver short sword hidden in your jacket.

“That would be awesome!” you spun around happily.

You walked back up the steps and approached him before he held his hand out.

“Stop right there,” he commanded.

You froze still in your tracks. He wasn’t using any magic, but his sudden request was unexpected.

“Can you hand me the delivery papers from there please?” he asked, avoiding eye contact, “Sorry, I’m not good around strangers.”

You wordlessly handed him the papers. You were dumbfounded. Vampires were the masters of suave and the epitome of seduction. This man gave off no such presence. Other than his otherworldly attractiveness and subtly powerful aura, you never would have pinned him as a vampire.

You quickly put yourself back on high alert. Maybe that was his plan. Maybe he was a more passive vampire. Those were rare, but still a possibility.

“If I’m not mistaken, I think you took a right instead of a left at the crossroads that led you here,” he said quietly as he held out the papers for you.

Now you were flabbergasted. You took back the papers, but awkwardly lingered on his front porch. How would you come back? You couldn’t use a delivery excuse again, that would make him even more suspicious. Your mind raced as you thought of something to say or do.

“Those flowers are beautiful,” he observed.

“Oh these? Yeah I guess. Flowers are supposed to be pretty, aren’t they?” you laughed nervously. What was he trying to do?

“Yes, they are pretty externally, as are most things in life. But I think their true beauty lies within their intent,” he slightly opened the door wider, revealing half of his body.

“These flowers have intent?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“For example, this Mr. Tom Davis either loves his partner a lot, or whoever is sending these to him loves him a lot,” he gestured towards the bouquet, “A mixture of orchids and wax flowers is a nice way to express a lasting love, patience, and sometimes even lasting wealth.”

“These flowers say that much?” you were amused.

“Only to those who listen, I suppose,” he seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

“I wish I knew as much about flowers as you. I don’t know jackshit about them, and I was just bequeathed an entire flower shop,” you sighed. You hoped he would take the bait and prolong the conversation.

“You own a flower shop?” his face lit up for an instant before his features returned to a more somber state, “And, I’m sorry for your loss.”

He almost had a cute boyish charm about him. His condolences seemed sincere, not at all like the false statements you were used to being fed by his kind.

“Well, I guess I do now. I have no idea how to run it, so I’m kind of freaking out about it. I have all these orders but I’m not even a certified florist. Oh, and thanks,” you shrugged, hoping to give off the illusion of helplessness.

“I don’t mean to overstep any boundaries, but maybe I could be of assistance?” he offered, his eyes finally meeting yours.

Something happened at that moment. You felt a pang in your chest as soon as your eyes met. Those weren’t the eyes of a hungry predator. Instead, you saw only kindness and maybe something else that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe Yoongi was wrong, maybe this wasn’t the right target.

“Are you sure about that? I don’t want to overwhelm you,” you took a step closer.

“It may be a nice change of pace for me. I don’t socialize much these days,” he chuckled. Seeing him smile made your heart skip a beat. It was so wholesome. Part of you thought you saw a flash of a fang, but another part of you wanted to deny it.

“Well, you would be more than welcome to come visit my shop! I promise I won't bite,” you winked at him, extending your hand.

You noticed that his smile faltered at the mention of biting, but he quickly dispelled his observable unease. He slowly reached his hand out to meet yours. You prepared yourself for the worst, as he might yank you into his home with enough force to pop your arm out of its socket.

Instead, you were met with a firm handshake. You gave him the name of your flower shop and politely excused yourself. He shut the door as soon as you were off the porch, but you still felt his eyes on you.

You got back into the car and stared at your hand. There was no doubt about it. His hand was just as cold as every other vampire you’ve encountered. It wasn’t the type of cold you could blame on poor blood circulation. No, it was the undead type of cold.

As you drove back to your cottage, you admonished yourself. Why did you feel disappointed that it actually was the target? You should rejoice. You can avenge your parents (not that that really mattered to you). You’re a step closer to getting this job done and going home.

But you couldn’t quite decipher what you felt. You felt as if you had a genuine interaction with him. God knows how long its been since you’ve actually gotten to be yourself. You always had a role to play.

Even though you almost fell for his stupid smile, you couldn’t detect a hint of magic. Nothing he said was laced with magical words of persuasion. There was no shroud of alluring lust that you could feel.

You plopped onto your bed. You needed to focus.

‘All you gotta do is kill the target. Easy peasy,’ you thought to yourself.

You figured you should do your routine check in call. Yoongi was probably worrying himself sick. Usually calls are spaced out every few days, but a call on the first day would ease Yoongi’s nerves.

“Hello?” Yoongi picked up after the first ring.

“Hey Yoongi,” you greeted him. Usually he doesn’t answer these calls, but this job was an exception.

“Thank god you’re okay. How did it go? Did you kill him?” he asked eagerly.

“No, I didn’t have an opening,” you sighed.

“How are you going to meet him again? Don’t tell me you tried to seduce him…”

“No, I did not. Stop assuming that! He has a weird appreciation for flowers, so I told him he can come by the shop. I don’t know why you gave me a florist alibi, but it worked out perfectly.”

“Honestly, I don’t know either. The alcohol mixed with sleep deprivation had me thinking funny things,” Yoongi admitted, “Either way, I’m glad you’re safe. What was he like?”

“He was...nice?”

“...nice? Did you just call the monster that murdered your parents nice?” Yoongi asked in disbelief.

“I don’t know how else to put it. He was weird. He didn’t act like a stereotypical vampire. He didn’t use any form of magic. He was oddly shy. I even began to doubt he was the target until I shook his hand. His hand was eerily cold, so he’s undead for sure,” you explained.

“Sounds like a peculiar case. If you run into trouble, call my personal line, got it?” Yoongi ordered.

“Yes sir,” you affirmed before hanging up.

The next day, you headed to the flower shop that the VEC had set up for you. It was a quaint shop that looked like it had been part of the local town for years. Another impossible feat achieved by the VEC. The town itself was quiet. It was mostly full of elderly folks whose family had moved on to bigger cities.

The shop was filled with flowers of every color. A myriad of different species were spread across the interior. You sneezed the second you walked in. Good grief, this place was gonna have your allergies fuck you up.

A pile of papers were piled up on the front counter. Upon examination, you groaned. Yoongi is SUCH a bastard. He actually gave you flower arrangement orders that needed to be fulfilled.

‘It will help with the authenticity of the shop! Every order has already been prepaid so you have to make them. Have fun~’ he wrote in his instructions.

“You fuckin piece of--” you were cut off when you heard the front door chime.

“Hi! Welcome in,” you exclaimed quickly as you turned around.

An elderly couple had entered the store. They kindly greeted you, saying they thought it looked so pretty from the outside that they had no choice but to come in.

You watched them from behind the counter. You were oddly moved by how sweet they were to each other. They held hands the entire time. The man smiled fondly whenever the woman pointed out a pretty flower. They laughed together as they strolled through the store.

You felt as if you were invading their privacy somehow, but what else were you supposed to do? They were your only customers, so you had to pay attention to them.

Soon your attention turned towards the front door. Would your target actually show up? Vampires are creatures of pride, so they aren’t ones to break a promise. However, this one was different. Maybe he won’t keep his word. That would suck. It would make approaching him even harder.

The old couple shuffled over to the counter with a dozen roses in hand. Together, they had 6 white roses and 6 red roses.

“Would that be all?” you ask with a smile.

“Yes ma’am,” the man replied, handing you money.

“Call me old fashioned, but roses are my favorite flowers,” the woman said to you.

“They’re my favorite too, a classic can never go wrong,” you reply happily.

“Do you know why this bouquet is special?” she asked you.

“Please enlighten me, you say, leaning over the counter.

“Red and white roses together symbolize unity. I’m so happy I was able to find unity with my soulmate,” the man answered, giving his wife a kiss on the cheek.

“Oh stop, you sap! The poor girl doesn’t care about old farts who are in love,” the woman playfully slapped his arm.

“I think it’s incredibly sweet. I’m happy for you two. Please enjoy the flowers!” you bow to them.

“Don’t worry dear, you’ll find your own soulmate too!” the woman called out to you as they left the store.

After they had left, the store quieted down. Your only company was your own thoughts.

Soulmate? Love? It’s not that you didn’t believe in that stuff, it’s more like you didn’t believe that stuff was for you. Your line of work was extremely dangerous. Any hypothetical loved one of yours would constantly be in harm's way.

By the end of the day, you managed to finish 2 extravagant bouquets. The town’s post office was more than happy to deliver your finished products. It appeared that they didn’t get much work nowadays.

This became your routine for the next few days. An entire week had passed, and there had been no sign of your target. Patience wearing thin, you began to think of another excuse to go to his house. Hopefully this time, he would be less cautious. Rain poured outside as if to mimic your growing anxieties.

You had grown strangely fond of the flower shop. Being among the pretty flowers was calming. Putting arrangements together was a new challenge that you’ve never faced before. It was, perhaps, the most peaceful time you’ve had in your life. It was almost as if you were living a normal life.

The front door chimed, and you automatically called out a greeting to the potential customer. You weren’t answered. That didn’t really bother you though, as you were engrossed in reading the day’s arrangement orders. How the hell did Yoongi get so many?

“Hello again,” a familiar deep voice disrupted your focus.

You looked up and once again faced the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He had finally arrived. He looked less cautious than before, but still nervous nonetheless.

“You actually came!” you exclaimed, you couldn’t tell if the excitement was genuine or not.

“I always keep my promises. I’m sorry it took awhile for me to get here. I had to wait for...uh…” his voice trailed off.

“For?”

“The weather.”

“The weather?”

“It’s easier to travel in gloomier weather. Preferably rainy,” he answered concisely.

“That’s odd,” you noted. Of course, you knew the reason why. Sunlight would instantly kill him.

“I suppose I’m rather odd,” he glanced around the shop, “You have a wonderful set of flora here.”

“Thank you! I can’t really take the credit. I just sell them, not grow them,” you say bashfully.

“But it takes a keen eye to pick the best ones,” he replied, examining the flowers closely.

“Everything was here when I arrived. I’ve just been selling and making shitty arrangements,” you slowly crept towards him.

Now was your chance. You could land a fatal blow while the weirdo gawked at flowers.

“You’re making arrangements?” he whipped around to face you with inhuman speed. You couldn’t help but jump back.

“Yeah! I have a ton to go through. I had no idea this place was so popular,” you say quickly, trying to act natural. He was too unpredictable to do anything rash.

“Do you need help with those?” he asked.

“Actually...if you don’t mind…” you gestured towards the huge stack of papers on the counter, “Maybe if you can give me some tips, I can make them faster! And hopefully they’ll turn out prettier.”

“Sure,” he nodded.

The rest of the day was spent making arrangements together. He had a talent for picking the perfect flowers and giving them the perfect placements. You were in awe. Was this a secret vampire power? Or was this guy just weirdly into flowers?

“Hey, I never got your name,” you say. You realized you had only labeled him as “the target” in your head.

“Ah, yes. I’m Taehyung. Kim Taehyung,” he gave you a shy smile, slowly extending his hand to you, just as you did to him during your first encounter.

“Pleasure to meet you, Taehyung! I’m ___,” you replied, giving him a firm handshake.

Taehyung went back to arranging flowers, but you froze in your place. Your eyes grew wide in shock. Your jaw silently dropped. It was a good thing Taehyung couldn’t see your face, or else he’d think something was wrong.

Which there was. Something was definitely wrong. How could you be so stupid?!? You gave him your name. Your real name. One of the most important rules about vampire hunting is to keep yourself as anonymous as possible. Vampire hunters are excellent liars. And you usually were as well. You’ve never slipped up like this before. Was he charming you somehow? You couldn’t detect a hint of magic anywhere.

“___? ___ did you hear me?” Taehyung waved his hand in front of you.

You snapped back to reality.

“Sorry, I guess I zoned out for a second. What did you say?” you gave him an apologetic smile. Not only did you give him your real name, you also just zoned out in front of an extremely dangerous vampire. What the hell is wrong with you today?

“I asked which flower embodies you the most,” he said.

“What? Like personality wise?” you couldn’t help but chuckle, “That’s a weird question. Are you a walking Buzzfeed quiz?”

“Buzzfeed? What is that?” Taehyung looked confused.

“It’s a news company. Or an entertainment company? They basically write clickbait articles. But they also have personality quizzes for literally anything. But wait, what kind of flower would I be? I don’t know,” you answered him.

“Why don’t you know?” he asked innocently.

“Because I’ve never been asked that before?” you were genuinely amused by this guy, “But I guess I’ll humor you. Let’s say I’m a rose.”

“Why a rose?”

“Cuz I’m beautiful, duh. And I can be thorny if you’re not careful,” you winked.

Taehyung seemed to seriously mull over your answer. It was silent for the next few minutes. You meant to come off as playful, but maybe he took you seriously? You couldn’t figure him out at all.

“I don’t think that was a sincere answer,” Taehyung finally said.

“Pardon?”

“I don’t think that was a sincere answer,” Taehyung repeated, “I think you just said you’re a rose because you don’t know many other flowers.”

“Alright, which flower do you think I am then?” you asked, now slightly annoyed.

You were taken aback by how odd this vampire was. He was much too pensive. Too thoughtful. Not once did you feel any lust or hunger in his aura the entire time he’s been in your presence. Not even when you were at his mansion.

“I can’t answer that,” he replied as he tied a ribbon around a finished vase.

“Why not?” you inquired, taking the vase from him.

“I don’t know you. I can’t make an accurate judgement,” he shrugged.

You couldn’t believe him. Any other vampire would have said something charming. They would have picked a pretty flower to ‘compare to your beauty’. It was the perfect question to show off their charisma.

“Which flower do you think you are, then?” you asked.

“Belladonna,” he answered without skipping a beat, “Which is also known as deadly nightshade.”

“And why are you a deadly nightshade?”

“You would understand if you knew me,” he stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes.

His gaze was piercing. He was an enigma that you became determined to solve. Everything about him was intriguing.

“Is that a threat? Or a flirtation?” you questioned, amused.

“Which do you want it to be?”

“Preferably not a threat.”

“Then take it as a flirtation.”

“Well now that just seems disingenuous.”

Taehyung laughed. It was a real, hearty laugh. His deep laughter echoed around the room. You joined in his laughter. You were actually enjoying yourself. To be quite honest, your guard was completely down. You trusted him. You actually wanted to befriend him.

Closing time had rolled around. By some miracle (which was Taehyung) you managed to get through half the stack of orders. Finished bouquets were scattered across the shop. You profusely thanked Taehyung for all his help.

“All of these are so beautiful! I really could not have done it without you. I feel bad for my previous orders now…” you realized that your bouquets were hideous compared to Taehyung’s.

“I can come help you finish the rest of your orders tomorrow, if you’d like,” he offered.

“Are you sure? I can’t pay you for all your help just yet,” you paused to think if you should offer to hire him.

“Don’t worry about that. Money is not a concern for me. I genuinely would like to help you. At first, it was because of my appreciation for nature. After today, I think I actually enjoy your company,” he smiled.

“Wow, you actually enjoy my company? I’m flattered,” you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t contain your smile.

“You should be, I generally don’t like company,” Taehyung leaned in to close the space between you two.

He was now extremely close. His face just inches away from yours. You could smell his cologne, the scent made him even more alluring. You caught yourself slowly leaning closer to him. You instantly snapped yourself out of his spell.

Pulling back, you looked around the room. You couldn’t find it in you to meet his gaze, even though you felt his eyes on you. You were surprised once you realized that there was still no hint of any magic. What had just happened?

“God, there’s a lot of vases I gotta carry to the post office,” you say after clearing your throat.

“I can help,” Taehyung replied, already beginning to gather up vases.

“You don’t have to! You’ve already helped a bunch today. There’s a cart around back that I can use,” you didn’t understand why you were getting so flustered.

“Please allow me to help you, ___. I’m stronger than I look,” Taehyung gave you a reassuring smile. Of course he was.

“If you insist. I’ll go get the cart,” you happily fetched the cart.

What is this feeling? Were you actually enjoying yourself? You completely forgot that you had to eventually kill him until you were outside by yourself. The thought disappointed you. You quickly shook your head. This monster killed your parents. He’s a monster. A bloodsucker. A beast that must be slain.

Even knowing that, why did you feel so conflicted? Your time with him today was surprisingly enjoyable. He was so unpredictable. Your sparse conversations felt natural, as if he really just wanted to get to know you.

Taehyung helped you load up all of the vases onto the cart. He even pulled the cart for you, accompanying you to the post office. The trip was mostly done in silence. Every time you tried to spark a conversation, he would reply curtly, not giving you much to work with. It was rather peculiar for a vampire to be quiet or shy.

He walked you back to the flower shop after the deliveries were dropped off. You both lingered in front of the entrance, not really knowing what to say.

“So, you’ll swing by tomorrow?” you asked quietly.

“If that’s okay with you, yes. I’d like to make bouquets tomorrow too,” Taehyung nodded earnestly.

“That’s 100% good with me. I’ll see you tomorrow!” you wave at him before turning towards the shop door.

“___--”

“Yes?” you turn around.

“I--nevermind. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Taehyung awkwardly bowed before departing.

His weird standoffish tendencies never failed to entertain you. It somehow added more charm to accompany his handsome face.

You lay in bed later that night, recounting the events of the day.

Did you enjoy hanging out with Taehyung today? Yes, more so than you could’ve imagined.

Did you have the opportunity to kill Taehyung today? Yes, multiple if you were willing to take risks (which you usually were).

Why didn’t you take a risk? You weren’t sure. It wasn’t that you were trying to be cautious, in fact, you were very careless the entire day.

Did you catch yourself almost trying to kiss him? Yes.

Hopefully he didn’t notice that last part. You tried to play it off as soon as you realized what you were doing.

You pulled out your phone to call Yoongi for a second mission check in.

“Hello?” Yoongi answered.

“Sup Yoongi,” you greeted him casually.

“Did you kill the target yet?”

“No, but he came into the shop. He didn’t let his guard down the whole day.”

“The whole day? Was he in the shop all day?” Yoongi sounded confused.

“Yeah, he helped me make bouquets--”

“He WHAT?!?” Yoongi yelled.

“Calm down. He actually helped me get through a shit ton of your stupid orders--”

“You’re telling me that the bouquets I ordered for victims families’ were made BY a vampire? God, you gotta be shitting me, ___,” Yoongi grumbled.

“I think I have to play the long game with this one. He’s too unpredictable for me to land a fatal blow in one strike,” you explained.

“Be careful, ___. I’m glad he didn’t attack you today. Kill him as soon as possible. Then you can come home, and your parents will be avenged,” Yoongi said before hanging up.

Yoongi’s final words swam around in your head before you fell asleep.

#bts smut #kim namjoon smut #kim taehyung smut #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #bangtanshadowfamily #ksmutclub #vampire bts #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung x reader #kpop fanfic #bts angst #bts comedy #taehyung angst #namjoon angst #vampire taehyung #vampire namjoon #bayanihanboost

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] S2 Gavin and MC in Chapter 9 - Part One

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from Season 2 🍒

I’m focusing on Gavin and MC, not the plot (because the latter requires extensive time and effort that I can’t spare :’>). So I won’t be explaining certain plot points as I’m unsure of them myself

Do read Ch 2 before proceeding! Otherwise you’ll be completely lost from the very beginning:

MC is in her office looking out for trending topics in the news, and she starts thinking about what Grey Rhino does:

At present, Gray Rhino is one of the most active anti-Evol groups. Its members are found all over the world, and consist of tens of thousands of people.

Most of the members are normal civilians or Evol victims, and are extremely against the existence of Evol. Every member seems to have a snake-shaped tattoo on their body.

From what I understand, they have a hand in the “Small Syringes”, the missing plane and the train incident from not too long ago.

One of her subordinates from Black Swan, Zehn, gives her a call

She’s tasked him to take note of Gray Rhino’s operations, because she thinks they’re going to act again

But he brings her news of STF instead: Apparently, STF has a new commander, but he’s a mystery since he hasn’t made a public appearance

MC: Maybe he’s a shrewd old man.

MC sighs and decides that she needs to investigate into the commander of STF

At this moment, impatient knocks are at the door. Even before I make a sound, Minor has already pushed the door open, rushing to me with extreme anxiousness.

I frantically hang up, turning my head and glowering at Minor.

MC: Why did you barge into my office?

Minor creases his brows, gesturing at the phone in his hand, mouthing some words to me.

Minor: It’s-- Bro-- Gavin--

MC: Gavin?

The words subconsciously leave my lips, and my tone is slightly surprised.

MC: Why did Gavin give you a call to look for me?

A voice drifts from the phone in Minor’s hand.

Gavin: Because your phone line was busy.

I was just having a discussion with my subordinate from Black Swan on how to fish for information regarding the commander of STF...

Feeling a little guilty, I hurriedly take the phone.

MC: Looking for me so urgently - is something wrong?

For a while, there’s silence at the other end of the line.

I wait quietly for Gavin to speak. After a moment, his voice returns.

Gavin: MC, has... anything happened to you lately?

This question is very abrupt, and I find it slightly odd. Thinking that Gavin is asking about the “Small Syringes” incident, I respond.

MC: Nothing’s wrong. I occasionally get strange harassment calls... but the rumours of the company being involved in prohibited drugs are slowly clearing up. As of now, work has returned to normal. Come to think of it, Captain Gavin deserves much thanks for helping me clear up the rumours.

I laugh, adding that last line.

After a soft “oh”, Gavin doesn’t continue.

The silence in the air spreads to both ends of the line. Minor, being incredibly tactful, leaves the room. Before closing the door, he mouths a “Boss, all the best”.

I think of the earlier information received. After hesitating for a moment, I test the waters with a question.

MC: Gavin, it’s been a while since we were in contact. How have you been?

Gavin: I was executing a mission.

Gavin’s breathing is very soft, drifting through the phone and into the receiver.

I can even imagine how he looks, pinching his phone with slight force, his right hand subconsciously tapping lightly on the desk.

The gloomy weather is filled with large, dark clouds. The first rainfall of winter, which has been brewing for a very long time, finally starts pattering down.

The synchronised rustling of rain can be heard over the phone. I lift my head to look out the window, and speak to Gavin softly.

MC: It’s raining.

Gavin: Mm.

The thick sound of rain mucks up a memory, and I continue, thinking aloud.

MC: Rainfall in winter is the coldest... When you’re on missions these days, take note of the weather. When you head out, check the weather forecast, remember to bring an umbrella, and don’t catch a cold.

Gavin once again makes a sound of acknowledgement.

Gavin: Got it.

Another wave of silence hangs on the other end of the line. Just as I hesitate on whether to say goodbye, Gavin suddenly speaks.

Gavin: MC, I need your help with something.

Holding the STF-issued provisional visitor pass, a special officer leads me to the reception room.

Collaborative filming between the STF and [MC’s Company Name] has been shelved temporarily due to the gradually increasing amount of work. Other than the “Small Syringes” incident, it’s been a very long time since I came to the STF.

Special Officer: Miss MC, this is the place.

When the door is pushed open, a familiar voice drifts from inside.

Tang Chao: Yo, it’s you again. If you visit a few more times, I’ll be familiar with you. Your name’s MC, right?

Eli: Is that how you should speak to a lady?

Tang Chao: I’m just establishing good relations early. We’ll probably have many chances to meet in the future.

Aside from Eli whom I’m familiar with, I recognise the youth who doesn’t have a filter over his mouth. He’s Tang Chao, Gavin’s colleague, and the one who pretended to interrogate me the last time.

MC: Special Officer Tang, it’s been a long time.

Gavin: Tang Chao! Who allowed you to be here?

With a “bang”, the door is pushed open with force. Gavin strides into the room with a dark expression, placing files on the table with a thud.

It’s been a long time since I've seen Gavin, and I can’t help but take several looks at him.

Gavin is wearing everyday clothes, and in his deep eyes are the coolness and resoluteness that I'm familiar with.

My gaze remains unmoving, and I vaguely spot a white bandage near his sleeve.

MC: Gavin, are you injured?

Gavin: No.

Tang Chao: He’s lying.

Gavin: ...

MC: ...

Tang Chao grabs the files on the table, whipping his head around to greet him before running out into the corridor swiftly.

Eli: I can’t help much by staying here. The two of you can talk.

The reception room, which was in a state of chaos earlier, suddenly sinks into quietness.

I remain standing in place, somewhat at a loss. Gavin, feeling uneasy, turns his head to the side, releasing a soft cough.

Gavin: They talk too much. Let’s go straight to the main topic.

Gavin plays down on the topic of his injuries, but I know that even if I were to ask, he would only keep it hidden.

I sigh inwardly.

MC: You haven't told me what you needed my help with.

Gavin: We met a witness who has special circumstances, and we need your Evol to read his memories.

MC: Special circumstances? Is his memory impaired? Or did he lose part of his memory from fright?

Gavin shakes his head, and only signals that I should follow him.

In the interrogation room, Gavin briefly explains the situation: the incident happened at a station, and the victim died from a bullet

The witness is an elderly man who is blind

I tug on Gavin’s sleeve, and can’t help but voice the doubts in my heart.

MC: Gavin, since this witness is a blind man, how am I supposed to read his memories?

Gavin: Memories aren’t just images. Sounds, scents, and even touch are parts of memories.

MC: I think I understand what you mean. If footsteps are heard, it could confirm the time when the suspect appeared. If a unique scent is stored in the memory, it could also be a lead to cracking the case.

Gavin nods lightly.

Gavin: That’s why I requested for you to come.

He tells her not to be stressed about it

Unfortunately, MC doesn’t get anything out of reading the witness’ memories

MC: I’m sorry, I don’t have much of a clue.

Gavin nods lightly, and doesn’t say anything. This causes me to feel a little embarrassed.

Even though the case has nothing to do with me, I couldn’t be of any help to him.

Thinking about how he’s been handling Evol cases which come one after another, he must be facing an incredible amount of stress.

Walking out the doors of the interrogation room, Tang Chao happens to pass by.

Tang Chao: You’re going off just like that?

Gavin: ...

Tang Chao: Let’s head to the canteen for a meal. There are chicken drumsticks today.

Gavin blatantly ignores Tang Chao, who had extended an enthusiastic invitation. He turns towards me.

Gavin: I'll send you home. Don’t worry about today’s matter.

Seeing him like this, he’s probably planning to focus wholeheartedly on investigating and not intend to have a proper meal...

Sighing inwardly, I pat my hands and make a wilful decision.

MC: Gavin, you haven’t given me my remuneration. How about this. I’ll treat you to a meal, then you can conveniently send me home.

Gavin: No thanks.

MC: ...

Seeing the awkward expression on my face from being rejected, Gavin seems to be in a great mood, and the corners of his lips lift a tiny bit.

Gavin: I’ll send you home, and conveniently accompany you to a meal.

MC: ...eh?

Gavin: Why are you in a daze? Let’s go.

By the time we walk out of STF, the rain has already stopped. It isn’t time to eat yet, and neither of us are very hungry. We simply head to a nearby snack street to find something random to eat.

The road is flanked on both sides with various snack shops, numerous coloured billboards tightly packed together. In this late afternoon drawing close to evening, business is bustling, and people are walking to and fro.

It is the season where autumn ends and winter begins, and the fragrance of roasted chestnuts is in the air. My mind still ponders on the case from earlier.

MC: Gavin, aren’t there any other witnesses in that case?

Gavin: The crime occurred when the station was most desolate. There weren’t other commuters on the platform.

MC: Since the location of the crime is in a place like the station, aren’t there any surveillance cameras nearby?

Gavin: On the day of the incident, all the surveillance cameras nearby were broken.

While speaking, a large white cat holding a Dragon Li cat in its mouth leaps past us lithely, and Gavin slow down his footsteps.

MC: Looks like it’s a premeditated crime.

I have no other ideas after this, and I decide to ask whatever I can think of.

MC: After the murderer committed the crime, what would have been the first thing he’d have done?

Gavin: Get rid of the murder weapon.

Gavin says this casually. Standing before the roasted chestnut stall, the smile on the boss’ face instantly freezes.

I take the freshly prepared roasted chestnuts, hurriedly pulling Gavin away.

At this moment, I realise on hindsight that Gavin had silently footed the bill, and I had accepted it just like that.

Gavin turns his head and sees me rooted in my original spot. His eyes are caged in the tender glow of sunset.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: Gavin, is there anything you want to eat?

At first, he shakes his head. In the end, he seems to notice the downward tugging at the corners of my lips, and can only struggle in front of the oden noodle shop for a while.

Gavin: One serving of fishballs.

MC: Two servings. And add a serving of fish tofu, chicken wings, chikuwa... please add more chilli.

MC: You have to eat more.

While we’re eating and walking, a clear “bang” suddenly resounds from behind us.

With my mind filled with the shooting incident, I’m so scared that I shift half a step backwards.

Gavin: It’s a shooting game.

Meeting Gavin’s teasing gaze, I laugh awkwardly, and an idea surfaces in my mind.

MC: I know! Let’s go and play that! Since we can’t escape from the topic of “shooting”, we might even get some inspiration from the game.

Gavin: ...that’s going a little far.

Despite what he says, Gavin still accompanies me, walking towards the stall. Seeing that there’s business, the owner immediately calls out to us in a lively manner.

I hold the gun, weigh it in my hand, and look at the target set up in front of me.

Gavin glances at me in surprise, and asks suddenly.

Gavin: You’ve learnt shooting?

MC: Mm, an incredible friend taught me.

Gavin: Which friend?

MC: ...the one who taught me self-defence. He’s very skilled, and is a very nice person too.

Gavin turns his head to the side, looking utterly disinterested, as though he doesn’t believe my big words.

After greeting the stall owner, I hold up the gun and adjust my posture. Settling on the target, I squint with my right eye, pulling the trigger confidently.

Bang--

Brimming with confidence, I look at the target, but realise that I’ve barely hit the 7th ring.

Gavin: Looks like his teaching wasn’t that great.

[Note] If you aren't familiar with Gavin’s dates: S1 Gavin taught MC how to shoot in his Rehearsal Date! So he’s basically insulting himself LOL

In a great mood, Gavin watches the faraway target. Unwilling to lose, I fire several bullets, but the results hover around the 6th and 7th rings.

MC: ...it’s been a long time since I practised, so I’m a little rusty.

After saying this, peals of laughter drift from behind me.

I turn my head, and see a high school couple playing the shooting game too.

Girl: Dear, your shooting skills are really good!

Boy: Dear, wait for me to get the biggest and cutest doll for you.

Once the girl hears the boy’s words, she laughs even more.

A wave of melancholy strikes my heart. Just as I think of setting the gun down, I hear Gavin’s voice at my ear.

Gavin: You’re putting too much weight in front.

Suddenly, a familiar warmth presses against my back. Scorching breaths are at the roof of my head. He holds my hand, resting the butt of the rifle on my shoulder.

MC: !

Gavin: Are you ready?

Gavin rests the first pad of his forefinger over mine, applying pressure on the trigger, not leaving a single gap.

I can feel the calluses as he covers the back of my hand with his, and the heart that’s about to leap out of my chest.

I don’t know if it’s the lingering warmth from sunset, or the temperature of Gavin’s body which is causing my face to feel heated.

Bang--!

The bullet slices through the air, hitting the centre of the target with precision.

Gavin: Do you remember the gist of the action?

I nod with force, the scorching warmth of our skin being pressed together causing the temperature of my face to rise.

Under Gavin’s close guidance, the subsequent eight shots all hit the bullseye.

His eyebrows arch upwards slightly, and he chuckles.

Gavin: Do you still want to try?

Seeing that Gavin is hitting the target with every shot, the stall owner seems to get a fright, and immediately waves his hands.

Stall owner: I’m about to close the stall. You should pick a prize quickly.

Gavin: That one then.

Gavin points at the largest pink bunny plush on the counter. Then, he pauses, tossing me a questioning glance.

MC: Gavin, I want that prize.

I point at a golden coloured ginkgo keychain in the glass cabinet.

Stall owner: Miss, the one you chose is a third-rate prize. It’s of little value.

MC: It’s all right. I like it.

I hold up that ginkgo keychain, the fine leaf made of golden wire reflecting a dazzling light under the sun.

MC: It’d definitely look really nice on a bag!

I turn my head excitedly, and can’t help but flaunt it off to Gavin.

The autumn wind is somewhat gentle. The corners of Gavin’s lips are hooked upwards. His eyes, which are watching me, are flourishing with an amber light.

Gavin: Mm, looks really nice.

[Note] Screaming because it’s left ambiguous in Chinese on whether he’s referring to the ginkgo keychain... or her smile 👀

Right after walking out of the snack street, raindrops patter down.

MC: It’s raining again.

I retrieve my umbrella, and Gavin takes it from me naturally. The transparent umbrella is held steadily above my head.

Gavin: It’s getting late. I’ll send you home. Don’t worry about today’s matter. It has nothing to do with you.

Fine rain continuously slides off the umbrella. Gavin matches my pace, walking forward slowly.

Everything in the rain brings with it a certain hazy and humid quality, reminiscent of an image frequently featured in movies.

Gavin: Where’s your bracelet? Why aren’t you wearing it?

MC: The weather has been too damp these days. I was afraid wearing it out would affect its condition.

Gavin: ...oh.

I lift my head, and see a mother and daughter afar off, getting caught in the rain.

I exchange a glance with Gavin. We reach a tacit understanding, and he nods.

We walk over to the mother and daughter, and give the umbrella to them.

MC: This umbrella is for the both of you.

Mother: How could I take it!

With my persuasion, the mother and daughter finally accept this kindness, and repeatedly thank Gavin and I.

I take out an unimportant document from my bag and use it to cover my forehead. Just as I prepare to share a few sheets with Gavin, a shadow suddenly shrouds the top of my head.

--It’s Gavin’s jacket.

MC: No need. It’s just a little rain, it’d be fine.

Gavin: Didn't you say that rainfall in winter is the coldest?

Not allowing for any protests, Gavin holds the jacket over our heads, ensuring that I wouldn’t get caught in the rain.

Gavin: Let’s go. The journey isn’t long. I’ll send you home. Oh yes, don’t leave the house over the next few days. Especially at night.

His expression is incredibly serious, and even a little stern.

MC: Got it.

Gavin’s jacket covers my head. I breathe in, inhaling his unique scent.

But the jacket doesn’t seem to be large enough, and isn’t sufficient for two people to walk while standing side by side. After a moment of thinking, I stagger slightly, standing in front of Gavin.

I lift my head, looking at Gavin’s clean lower jaw and amber coloured eyes.

MC: We’ll walk like this?

A touch of red surfaces on Gavin’s cheeks. He doesn’t lower his head to look at me. Shifting his gaze elsewhere, he feigns coldness in his voice.

Gavin: Mm.

The large jacket covers and carves out a small and narrow world. The sound of rain pattering on the jacket is slightly gloomy, blending with the scent of rain, and the delicate, faint fragrance in the air.

I take a deep breath, looking towards the street.

MC: Gavin, look. The wintersweet flowers are blooming.

[Trivia] In the language of flowers, the wintersweet symbolises independence, perseverance, fortitude, faithfulness, and a loving, noble heart :>

Behind me, Gavin halts in his steps, and peels open a corner of the jacket slightly.

I can’t see his gaze, and can only feel his drawn out breathing and the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

The yellow wintersweet flowers emit a subtle fragrance. In a manner which isn’t overly resplendent or bright, they add a warm lustre to this world.

Gavin: Mm, looks really nice.

His voice is clear and bright. In this indistinct, misty rain, it seems to indicate the direction that I should proceed towards.

In many moments, it’s always been the case.

The red light across the street seems to be exceptionally lengthy, and doesn’t change for a long time.

The waiting time is a little long, and I can’t help but enter a slight trance.

When I was fifteen years old, the rain was just like this.

Seventeen year old Gavin crossed the curtain of rain, and the school jacket he placed on me had carried the scent of an inexperienced youth.

That youthful scent which forever pauses on that rainy day has been breathed back to life in my memory, entwining with the scent of the man that is presently twirling around the tip of my nose.

Like a certain miraculous overlapping.

MC: The rain seems to be getting heavier.

The white shirt which has been caught in the rain is slightly soaked. I seem to see his slim back through the shirt, which has turned half-transparent from being drenched in the rain.

That clean and cool scent, just like the refreshing breeze coursing through this rain, descends on my heart.

The green man lights up, and the passers-by next to us walk across hurriedly. Perhaps this rain wouldn’t stop even after a while.

I summon my courage, and simply grab onto Gavin’s hand, pulling him into a run.

Across the streets, across the pelting rain, across the sea of memories, and walking into a junction belonging to us.

The rain pours even harder, creating flowers of water on the ground, as though urging me to hasten my footsteps.

Urging me to take his hand and walk forward quickly--

Part two: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #this is so so SO much better than I imagined T-T

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teentitwns · 3 years ago

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soooo, as you know i wrote some bbrae fanfictions and, this one, especifically, called “all you had to do was stay” (yes, taylor swift’s song) was published in 2017 but i deleted after sometime because im little lazy and the history always seems easily in my mind.

anyway! i decided to rewrite this fanfiction and the first chapter is already posted on the brazilian website that i use (spirit fanfics), so why not put in here too?

please, remember that im brazilian and my english is a little broken - sorry for the mistakes you’ll find on the text.

well, thats it. im really nervous right now and insecure. i hope you like it and, maybe, i can post the fanfiction on ao3 or another website.

_______________

The protective dome around Raven was totally useless and, like her friends, she knew it.

She was there, standing in the middle of the contraption built by Cyborg, with all her vital signs being recorded on the computers that occupied a large part of the room, beeping together with the devices that showed her brain waves.

Everything had been perfectly assembled and positioned so that she had the best protection that anyone could have in the face of what was about to happen, but all those technological tools made her feel like a laboratory rat, studied in vain to discover that in the end the experience had gone wrong again.

She sighed loudly and propped her elbows on her knees, resting her face in one hand; she no longer cared about floating.

She felt physically and mentally drained to use her powers in something as unnecessary as floating, and she didn't need to be inches from the ground at that moment.

In fact, it was better to have contact with the earth, with the concrete floor. At least she would be sure that she was still alive, that the world was fine and whole.

Raven let out a loud snort and huffed impatiently, her eyes roaming the room until they found the door, waiting, miraculously, for one of the other Titans to enter. She had been inside that dome for hours and she couldn't take it anymore - loneliness was good when chosen willingly, not out of obligation.

To her despair, in addition to the blatant private prison that was happening there, the kidnapping, or anything else of that level, the situation made terrible flashbacks go through her head, making her remember Slade, the brand of Scath , the end of the world and, consequently, Trigon.

Why did everything have to be so similar? It seemed that karma was acting exactly the same as it had on her sixteenth birthday, creating a tedious and scary looping. She never considered herself a fan of automatic repetitions anyway.

Unconsciously, she took her left hand into the pocket of her midnight blue cloak in hopes of finding a specific object inside it, but this time, she had no lucky coin to cling to and consider as an amulet. She was alone, forgotten, practically left to die, just as she should have been two years ago, on the fateful day when Trigon’s Prophecy almost came true.

The empath, a “witch” as many called her, allowed herself to laugh with mockery. She hated feeling sorry for her own tragic life, but she couldn't escape the pitiful thoughts she was having. She probably didn't think differently from what her friends had in mind - she was just a poor girl, victim of circumstances, who was not to blame for being the fruit of the forbidden, unhealthy relationship between a human and an interdimensional demon. She was not to blame for being “Daddy's darling”, the one chosen to bring him to Earth for the second time, since she was a poorly raised daughter and prevented him the first time.

Now, at eighteen, she wouldn't be as lucky as she was at sixteen.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos… Azarath Metrion Zinthos…”, she closed her eyes and started to meditate, with nothing else to do. “Azarath Metrion Zinthos…”

“Raven!"

She opened her eyes with a start, facing Beast Boy. Awkwardly, he spread his hands on the thick glass of the dome, breathing heavily.

“Great.", She thought. “Of all the people that Robin could send, he chose the most restless."

" What are you doing here?", she asked.

“Dude, isn't it obvious? We’re doing it wrong! ”, Beast Boy waved his hands compulsively. “I mean, it's your father! There is no one better to stop him than you!”

“If I leave here it will be easier to get to Earth."

“I really don't want to be pessimistic, but he's already here, mama."

“Beast Boy..."

“It worked last time, didn't it? What good will it do you to be stuck in that dome? The world will end anyway!”

“Weren't you the one who was upbeat until two seconds ago?"

“I still am!"

“Does Robin know you're here?"

“…yes."

“I don’t believe that."

“Of course I told him,", the shapeshifter scratched the back of his head, causing his newly acquired muscles to start filling his uniform to appear. “I just don't know if he paid attention.”, He gave a nervous smile.

“It doesn't count as a warning."

“Have you never been told that what counts is the intention?"

Raven rolled her eyes and uncrossed her legs, standing up. She walked over to where Beast Boy was, touching the dome with her fingertips. He smiled broadly, running to the nearest computer and typing in the code that would free her.

When the dome barriers disappeared, Raven adjusted the hood on her head, thinking about the possibilities that surrounded her. Beast Boy was right, after all. Trigon was already on Earth, like the first time, and she would not be of much help if she were trapped, safe and sound, while her friends killed themselves to save the world.

“I knew you'd be up for it!" He celebrated, approaching her.

“It wasn't your worst idea."

“I'm smart, you underestimate me too much."

“I must have my reasons for that, right?

“Taking into account my discussions about tofu being the best food in the world can’t be considered as a reason.”

“No?”

“We all have our childish moments.”

“And you have your adult moments.”, she said.

“Nothing for having released you, I’m at your service.

“Where are they?”

“Downtown.”

“Excellent.”

“Raven”, Beast Boy called her when she started to leave. “Are you ready to go?”

“You don’t?”

“It's just… You have nothing to bring you luck.”

“I don't believe in luck.”, she lied, ignoring the thought that she had been wishing for a lucky charm a few minutes ago.

“Why not?”

“I make my own luck.”

“But it's always good to have help, isn't it?”

“Come on, Beast Boy.”

He shook his head negatively and approached her, holding her arm firmly and preventing her from getting away. The difference in height between them remained almost nil, with Raven looking a little taller from a distance because of the hood.

She frowned and looked at him without understanding, trying to pull her arm out of his grip, uncomfortable with the position they were in.

“It's just…”, Beast Boy started to speak. “I shouldn't be here and I know it. You are always so focused and correct that you even embarrass me for acting that way, but, last time, you had the coin I gave you and we won.

“I don’t know where it is.”, Raven lied, lowering her head to hide the blush on her cheeks. Some of her emotions were manifested in Nevermore, reminding her of the small passion she held for him. Passion, that, that she was sure that she would never be reciprocated. He was not a philanderer, he had never dated anyone after Terra, but he was not unaware of love affairs like her. She had a little more experience, even though she was also small. “We can't keep others waiting.”

“I can't let you go without an amulet.”

“There is no such thing as luck, Beast Boy! How many times have I told you that we need to run after what we want?”

“Many.”

“And none of them fixed on your brain?”

“Apparently no.”

“I should have imagined.”

“Why can't you give me a credit?”

“You are acting like a child who believes in Santa Claus.”

“And you're being cruel to me.”, he complained. “I thought you stopped that a while ago.”

“I stopped. Are we going to battle or not?”, Raven asked impatiently. “The world is about to end!”

“I know!”

“Then let me go!”

“I can't let you leave here without an amulet!”

“So give me this shit!”

Raven's words echoed around the room, and Beast Boy smirked, as if he had been waiting for this ever since they started arguing.

Such nonsense fights and quick discussions were not new to them, who were used to being awkward a few times a day, always for stupid reasons. However, that time, the shapeshifter had a purpose and, knowing that Raven would play the game, he put his idea into practice, which ended up working very well, thank you.

Raven shook her head and shrugged, silently asking if he wouldn't give her anything. She was waiting for a frog charm or other coin, but all she received was a warm kiss on the mouth, which made her blow up the nearest computer monitor.

The touch of Beast Boy's lips on his made her close her eyes instantly, her body and mind embracing the fact that she wanted that kiss - she had even been waiting for him for a long time, having fantasized the moment several times in the stillness of his. room.

On the other hand, Beast Boy didn't explode at all, but he felt his whole body vibrating. Her cheeks were as flushed as Raven’s, and it had taken him a long time to have the courage to kiss her.

The kiss could not be considered "worthy of a movie" because the two were too tense to give themselves up completely. They did not know where to put their hands and neither should they do it; A light in their heads blinked incessantly, reminding them that the world was ending while they were kissing, and billions of people were at risk.

It could be considered an ordinary kiss, but for Raven and Beast Boy, it meant much more than that.

They separate after a few seconds, unable to exchange a direct look. Beast Boy cleared his throat and Raven clung more tightly to her cloak, almost disappearing inside it.

“Raven”, Beast Boy smiled, making her look him in the eye quickly. Without breaking eye contact, he simply stuck a five-cent coin in her hand. Like old times. “Good luck.”

—————————————-

ok, i had no idea that the text would lose the diagramming!!! i wrote this on my iphone notes, sorryyyy

#teentitwns #bbrae #bbrae fanfiction #raven #beast boy #fanfiction

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evemizutohi · 4 years ago

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Shadows Fall Behind

Chapter 2

Reader X Class 1-A (for now)

ps. sorry if I spell names wrong I google everything and I find multiple different spellings pls tell me which ones are wrong thankssss

At this point weeks have past since Shinso and I joined Class 1-A. Full days looked like nothing but class lectures and chaos. Ultimately I kept to myself as much as possible with the exception of Shinso and I’s conversations. He has always been super easy to talk to. I still haven’t become accustomed to everyone in this class. They’re much different compared to my friends from our former class.

I’ve talked a bit with Midoriya only because he has this thing where he mumbles to himself. Once I thought he was talking to me and I couldn’t help but have a one sided conversation with him. Which only ended in him apologizing profusely for doing absolutely nothing wrong. I learned that it was pretty normal for him. I also had a partner assignment with Todoroki. He was very nice but also had this ominous aura around him. I liked that.

“Are you still studying?” I looked up to see Shinso with tired eyes. He was wrapped up in comfy lounge clothes. His hair very erratic and sticking up in every direction. I nodded and then looked back down to my notebook and continued highlighting any important. Which at this point might’ve been my entire notebook. “I can’t seem to get this concept down.” I scratched my nose with my pen still reading.

I was about to ask Shinso about what I was going over when a crashing sound erupted beside us. We both looked over his shoulder and saw Kaminari face planted into the floor and his feet in the air across the room. Then an explosive blond following into the room. “That’s what you get for being an idiot!”

Shinso stifled a laugh and turned back to me. “What is wrong with that guy?” He shrugged his shoulders and sat down in the chair next to me. “Help me please?” I pointed to a question in my book while pouting my lips and giving him puppy dog eyes. God I hoped it would work. “No way I haven’t even started.” It did not.

“Oh come on.” My eyes wandered back down to my pages. A big sigh leaving my mouth. “You could ask Bakugou, he’s doing the best in class right now,” Shinso suggested with a tiny but noticeable smirk on his face. I snapped my head in his direction and gave him the most questionable look I could muster up. That would be the last thing I would ever do. We literally witnessed him toss a kid to the other side of the room. And yes maybe Kaminari had it coming, but he still threw the poor guy.

It was always obvious to me that Bakugou was rough around the edges. Even before I transferred classes. You could hear his ungodly yelling from across all halls. However, I also learned that he’s pretty okay when unprovoked. He minds his own as long as everyone does the same. Kirishima and Kaminari know that but chose to talk to him against his will anyway. I see the soft spots for them every now and then.

“Yeah right. I don’t want to be tossed next.” I groan and Shino laughs. He watches me close all of my books and cross my arms on the table shoving my face into them.

“As long as I steer clear from him my limbs will remain connected.”

the next day....

“Okay and Majikku you’ll be with Bakugou.”

The second those words were spoken by Aizawa I slapped my hand over my face.

Today was planned sparring and improving our attacks. We were getting paired up to warm up and eventually start putting fighting techniques into practice. Although after being partnered with a human grenade I realized I would most likely be working more on defense than offense.

I dropped into a squat hugging my knees to my chest. Cowering and thinking about all the ways I might be set on fire today. Until I heard feet approaching where I was squatting. “So are you gonna sit here and waste my time?” Slowly I lifted my head matching stares with intimidating red eyes. He huffed and walked past me moving to the other side of the training arena.

I stood up from where I crouched and looked for my purple haired adversary around the room. We met eyes and he was already laughing to himself. I subtly flipped him off and went off to follow Bakugou. He stood waiting for me impatiently. “Hurry up extra! I don’t have time to waste.” I fiddled with my fingers standing a couple feet away from him. As soon as my feet planted a sweat induced light beam was hurled at me. I gapsed and hit the floor in order to dodge it. I panicked as more of Bakugou’s quirk was released in seconds.

He groaned seeing as I would just dodge all of his attacks. He began running in my direction. I felt a tick in the palm of my hands.

I could help myself right now if I wanted to. I could use it and it would be fine. I could control it and make it better. I could use it for good. Good.

No.

I suppressed the feeling and dodged Bakugou’s foot from flying straight into my face. His fists thrown in record time trying to connect with any body part he could reach. I blocked an elbow he almost dug into my face and hit his stomach with an uppercut. Which in retrospect wasn’t exactly a smart idea.

The furry and fire in his eyes only grew. His breathing grew heavy and his chest was heaving with all he had. Oh shit.

He grabbed my shoulder and shot a blast from his hands into my abdomen. Sending me across the floor. I landed straight on my side and rolled over slightly. A stinging feeling in my side grew within the matter of seconds. “Majikku. Y/N. Are you alright?” Aizawa shouted from his spot near Mina.

I lifted my arm giving him a thumbs up, not moving from my position. “What a weak ass,” Bakugou sputtered. I forced myself to sit up ignoring the sting. Taking all I had to get to my feet. I walked towards the door. Not minding that I was leaving my partner behind. “Where the hell do you think you’re going dumb ass? We’re not done here.” Bakugou seethed.

I ignored him and kept walking out to the hall. “Hey I’m talking to you!”

Bakugou tugged at my shoulder causing me to hiss. He moved back watching me adjust my hand on my ribs. He still had a hard expression on his face. Nothing changing but his urgency to get me to fight him. I flicked my eyes to him and then back to the hall I was trying to get down. “The training room is this way you freakin extra. I told you we’re not done.”

“Well I am.” I sassed him continuing to walk down the hall. Deep and what I would call annoying growls emitting from the anger filled gremlin. He stomped over next to me keeping up with my slow pace. I could smell his burnt aroma and it was distracting. His shoulders were tense and toned from top to bottom. The sweat built up on his skin shining from the natural light reflected off the windows.

He cut me off and stood right in front of me. “Stop ignoring me dammit! You got somewhere better to be?”

“Yeah to recover girl because you knocked me on my ribs you ass.” He looked taken back for a second but quickly recovered continuing to follow me. He sneered and looked about ready to explode...again. “Maybe if you use the quirk that got you into this class you wouldn’t be bitching about a broken rib.”

“Ribs. Ribs you jack ass. Plural. And I can use my quirk whenever I want. It’s not up to you whether I do or not.” He rolled his eyes stopping in front of me again. “What a joke! I bet you didn’t even get close to the top at entrance exams right? That’s why you transferred in late.”

I scoffed pushing past him again trying to ignore his presence. “Just admit it you don’t belong in this class. Let alone maybe the hero course.” I stopped and turned to him ready to bash his head in. “Listen you idiot, I got in on recommendations okay! There just wasn’t enough room for me at the start.”

Bakugou stopped in his tracks and laughed. He chuckled in a way that made me feel vulnerable. “Oh I get it now. Another rich kid with a quirk and absolutely nothing to show for it. You’re pathetic. You’re going to burn in this class. You’ll never be a hero. Loser.” I let my head fall as I listened to Bakugou’s steps back to the class. One hand still on my side and the other clenched at my side. I continued walking to the infirmary.

“One crack of my quirk and it would be over. Asshole.”

#mha x reader #mha x you #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia series #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagines #Class 1-A #Class 1A #mha bakugou #my hero x reader #my hero academia one shot #mha series #bakugou series #evemizutohi

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deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth · 4 years ago

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I’m Gonna Crawl

Chapter 9 Morning of July 23, 1973

The morning light danced across my eyelids from the small window high up on the wall of the plane’s bedroom. I opened my eyes and groaned. A breathtaking hangover ailed my dying body as I laid on the bed wishing the feeling would cease. I shifted to sit up but something heavy was draped across my abdomen making it impossible to move. I glanced down to see Jimmy’s arm holding me tightly against his body.

‘Oh God, no…’ I tried to recall the contents of last night… Jonesy sent me back to the plane, drunk, of course I was drunk. Few memories popped up from the abyss, Jimmy convincing me to stay on the plane with him… having an incredible evening with him, surprisingly… and… ‘Oh no… I slept with him. Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’ I stiffened as I felt him move against me. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I were anywhere but here. He stopped moving and sighed in a heavy stupor.

And there it was, a flash of last night burning bright in my memory, I initiated it. I came onto him. Jesus Christ, why was I such a disaster with drink in hand? How do I get out of here? I looked down at his arm again and gently wrapped my fingers around the pale flesh. When I attempted to lift his arm off of me, he squeezed tighter.

“Where do you think you’re trying to go?” His sleepy voice was lagging and slow. I tilted my head to look at him but he had his face buried in my hair. He took a deep breath in through his nose. “Your hair has an intoxicating scent.” He murmured.

“I have to go.” I said quietly. His arm squeezed me tighter.

“You don’t have to go anywhere.” His melting honey voice was slightly muffled. “You, little girl, owe me.”

“Owe you?” I asked incredulously.

“Mhm.” He took another deep breath in before he lifted his face from my mass of brown curls. He propped himself up on his elbow, his other arm still holding my backside to him. I turned my head to meet his gaze, his green eyes were bright and full of frenzy, his dark curls a bountiful mess atop his head. “You owe me for last night.” His crooked grin was breathtaking.

I raised my eyebrows to which he rolled his eyes. “Of course, you don’t remember.” He mocked me. “Last night you gave me permission to touch you. I finally had what I wanted in my grasp…”

“If you got what you wanted then why do I owe you?”

He paused, slightly taken back. “What is the last thing you remember?” He lifted an eyebrow.

I could feel my face turning pink. The last thing I remembered was his hand on my center, his lips so close to mine and me needing more. “You were teasing me.” I gave him a dull, unimpressed look to which he chuckled. “Beyond that I have no fucking idea what you did to me.”

He raised both his eyebrows this time, a disgusted look on his face. “Necrophilia isn’t really my thing.” He said darkly.

“So, we didn’t fuck?” I sounded too hopeful; his face fell.

“No, darling. Unfortunately, you passed out before I could fuck you.” He emphasized the word I had used.

I inhaled sharply through my nose. “Oh, thank god.” I exhaled as I spoke. His smile was wide, mysterious and confusing the hell out of me. “What are you smiling about.”

He shrugged, his smile never faltering. “I may not have gotten what I want… But now I know the desire is double sided.” His eyebrows jumped, amused. “You let your guard down and proved that you want me just as bad as I want you.”

I gave him a disapproving look. “I was drunk.” I defended myself.

“Alcohol merely brings your deeper emotions to the surface.” He murmured; his grin cocky. “Gives you the confidence to go after what you truly desire.

I turned my face away from him. “I have no deeper emotions for you, I was drunk, I have no desire for you, James.”

“No?” He asked mischievously.

“No.”

“Hmm.” He pondered, pressing his semi-hard cock against my ass making my center throb. I bit my lip to keep quiet but when he pushed himself against me again a little whimper escaped my lips. “I don’t think you’re being very honest.” He whispered as he pushed my hair so my neck and shoulder were exposed. He gently laid his lips on the flesh just below my ear. A shiver shot down my spine making me shake against him. He let out a quiet grunt at the friction, his breathing heavy. His lips moved down to the divot where my neck met my shoulder but instead of kissing, he lightly dug his teeth into my skin. I let out another whimper. “Turn around.” He said huskily.

When I didn’t move, he bit into my skin again, higher up my neck and harder until I let out a whine. He replaced his teeth with his lips and began to suck the aching spot. When I started whimpering, he stopped, his lips found my ear. “Turn around, please.” He sounded as though he were on the verge of begging.

I didn’t move again, frozen to the spot. My brain was a disaster, a battle in sue. A sharp pain in my shoulder snapped me out of my reverie. He bit down on the back of my shoulder then sucked the spot again. I was panting heavily, my core throbbing vigorously, little whines escaping my lips.

Swiftly his fingers on the arm he had tangled around my waist wrapped around and pulled me so I would turn to face him. His eyes were smouldering, light green pools of ominous bliss. It felt as though I were melting like a bright, burning candle dripping down the sides of the candelabra. He pulled me closer so our bodies were touching, his cock harder now against me.

“Page!” Peter roared from the other room. “You better be on this goddamn plane.”

Jimmy sighed heavily; irritation heavy in his tone. “I swear to the fucking gods I’m going to murder someone.” He grumbled as he released me and sat up.

“Be out in a minute.” He yelled to Peter. He turned to face me and gently cupped my cheek in his hand. “To be continued, love.” He pressed his lips firmly to mine before getting up and shimmying into his jeans.

“Get out here Page!” Peter’s gruff voice was outside the bedroom door now.

“Christ Peter give me a bloody second will yah?” He donned a silk button down and opened the door just enough that Peter wouldn’t be able to see in. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He murmured with malice.

“Don’t give me attitude, Page.” Peter warned. “You’re on thin ice. Where is Cali? You were supposed to bring her back to the hotel last night.” Aggravation and impatience were heavy in his timbre.

“She’s here and she’s fine.” Jimmy matched his attitude.

“Bloody hell, Page. You should have brought her back to the hotel.” He scolded. “She’s got a visitor waiting for her. Bloke looks right pissed that I couldn’t find her.”

My heart dropped with a deep hollow thump. I quickly hopped off the bed and patted my wrinkled outfit down. “Shit.” I mumbled. Jimmy turned and looked at me, something odd in his eyes.

“Who’s looking for her?” Jimmy turned back to Peter.

“Bloke named Daniel. Showed up at the hotel about forty minutes ago.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I raced around the bed and grabbed my shoes.

“Where is he now?” Jimmy asked.

“At the bloody hotel!” Peter was highly irate. “You better not be in their fucking things up cause I’m telling you now, I am not looking for a new film agent once this all goes to hell in a bloody hand basket!”

“It’s alright Peter.” I stood beside Jimmy and pulled the door open. “Just fell asleep here. James has been on his best behaviour.” I assured him with a forced smile. “Excuse me.” I nodded to the two of them then made my way hastily out of the plane.

Jimmy followed me to the parked car. “Peter is staying here.” He murmured, his tone low, his gaze on the ground. He opened the door and motioned for me to get in.

He slid in silently beside me. He was quiet for most of the car ride, his gaze forward until we were around the corner from the hotel.

“Did you ask him to come?” He wondered quietly.

I was slightly put back. I turned my gaze to him but he kept looking forward. “As I recall I told him I was never speaking to him again.” He still didn’t look at me. “I don’t know how he found me…” I murmured mostly to myself.

He turned his gaze to me, his eyes lighter. “You didn’t tell him where you were?”

I shook my head. “What exactly happened between the two of you?”

I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

The car stopped in front of the hotel. I grabbed the handle of the door to get out but Jimmy stopped me.

“Tell me.” He pleaded softly.

I blinked, trying to register what was in his head at that moment. After deliberating I sighed. “I caught him cheating. I ignored his calls, and wouldn't answer the door. Which only pissed him off. And then I left… with you.”

“Is it over?” His eyes were blank, guarded.

I nodded; our eyes linked. He grabbed the sides of my face and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me deeply. I kissed him back, my hunger growing like a forest fire. To my dismay he pulled away.

“Stay here. I’ll get rid of him.” He went for the door.

“No. He won’t leave. He’s stubborn and prone to tantrums, much like yourself.” He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “I have to tell him myself.” I sighed.

He nodded, understandingly. “I’ll wait here.”

#led zeppelin fanfiction #led zeppelin #led zeppelin fanfic #jimmy page #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fan fic #john paul jones #John Bonham #robert plant #I'm Gonna Crawl #chapter 9

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jadethest0ne · 4 years ago

Text

In need of Refueling, Chapter 2 - Silken Web

Summary: “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 1384

Ratings/Warnings: Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents

Notes: Time for another villain to appear! Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!

Read on AO3

———-

Red Son stands in front of a decrepit market stand. Shriveled brown excuses for vegetation dust the bottom of containers labeled as produce and cooking ingredients. But the demon he is looking for is nowhere to be seen. He peers into the tented area covered by curtains with an unimpressed glare. Still, the spider insignia on the stand’s sign is unmistakable, so he calls into the gloom with a demanding, authoritative voice. “Spider Queen! I have come to have some words with you. I am looking for something and I think you have the information I seek!”

At first there is nothing. But a soft wind picks up around his ankles and a sultry whisper drifts out of the stand. “Come in…” it says.

Red Son glances around the area, then slips inside the curtains.

“Farther inside…” the voice calls.

Red Son knows a trap when he sees one, but he continues on without fear as he looks around for any traces of trickery. It is dusty and the area seems untouched, except for the circular disk that he just stepped on.

“Right there…” says the voice, and Red Son can hear the smile in it as the disk drops down revealing a trap door.

Red Son gives a tired sigh as he falls and activates flames underneath his feet, slowing his descent on his way down the sudden hole in the floor.

He lands smoothly and kicks up flames around his feet in a circle to push back any potential enemy waiting for him below. It is dark, and he can hardly see anything. He hears some drip of water echo, giving a hint of a cavernous area. A scuttling noise bounces around him.

Red Son holds his palm upward in front of him and brings a ball of flame to life, lighting up his surroundings. He is indeed in a cave, as he thought, and it is covered in spider webs. The webs rustle and bounce as a result of quick movements that Red Son forces his eyes to follow despite them still adjusting to the light. The scuttling and the web movements sweep around him, and he twists around adjusting into a defensive stance as he prepares for what is facing him.

As he turns around he finds who he is looking for directly in front of him. If one weren’t paying attention, one might mistake her as an attractive human woman with long black hair and sparkling green eyes. But her greyish-purple skin and sharp fangs reveal a more demonic nature. Her spider-like body, complete with eight spindly legs with sharp ends come into the light, and she lifts herself high above Red Son, looking down at him with the ease of someone who knows how much power she holds.

“Spider Queen,” Red Son says with as much control as he can, despite an uptick in his heart rate. He takes a bow.

“My, what a polite boy,” the eight-legged spider demon drolls amusedly in an earthy accent. “To whom do I owe the pleasure of visiting me down in my Silken Web Cave?”

Red Son straightens himself up and introduces himself. “I am Red Son - the son of the Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan.”

“Yes, and a fire demon it seems,” she says eyeing the flame in his palm warily. “Spiders like us do not take kindly to fire like that…” Her mouth twitches in a hint of a grimace, but the smile never leaves her eyes.

“I did this so I can see, not so I may harm you… as long as I don’t have to…” Red Son says keeping his expression cool, but a smile of his own twitching at the corner of his lips. “I have come to request your assistance.”

“Assistance?” Spider Queen says with a tittering laugh. “That is amusing! What would I be assisting with?”

“Information. I want to know of any artifact or power source strong enough to kill an immortal.”

The Spider Queen quirks an eyebrow. “Might you be looking to destroy the Monkie Kid? I hear he has been causing you trouble. But I also hear that he is not indestructible. Your flames or a good enough whack should do the trick, I’d say,” she says clicking one of her legs harshly against the ground for emphasis.

“Not the Monkie Kid. The Monkey King!”

“Oh, is he still wandering around these parts!? I suppose that makes sense given that the Monkie Kid has been giving us demons a hard time.” She crosses her arms and looks up, tapping a finger to her cheek. “Well… I don’t know of any specific artifact that could destroy someone as powerful as that…” She again, eyes Red Son’s flames. “Buuuut… I do know of a way to power up your fire in a way that might allow you to gain the upper hand in a fight against him.”

Red Son’s eyes light up and the fire in his hand flares with his excitement. “Really!? Magnificent! Tell me! I must know!” He grins widely and wickedly, barely containing himself.

“Hahaha, you lose your manners so quickly when you are excited it seems,” Spider Queen laughs without joy. “Why would I give you such information without anything in return? What do you have for me?”

Red Son’s grin doesn’t falter, spreading further to show his teeth. “Oh, I hear that you’re looking for rare and powerful ingredients, and I have some for you right here.” Red Son pulls a pouch out of his pocket and opens it to reveal dark hairs sticking out of it. “The Monkie Kid’s hair, leftover from his defeated clones. I’m sure that's worth a little bit of information, now isn’t it?”

Red Son can tell he’s got her interest by the way that her eyes glimmer with no help from the flame he wields. She stretches out a hand, and two of her all too sharp legs reach toward him as well. “Yes!” she says, as if entranced by the sight of the hair.

“Uh, uh, uh!” Red Son tuts as he brings the bag close to the fire in his other hand, causing the Spider Queen to stop her advance. “I want my information first.”

Spider Queen’s smile tightens, and this time it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’re a shrewd little boy. But yes, I will tell you.”

Red Son smiles and listens intently.

Her posture straightens and with a flick of her wrist she spools out a strand of thread that begins to take shape into an abstract picture of a flame. So skilled is the puppetry of her silk webs, that the false flame seems to dance. “The power you are looking for is called ‘The True Fire of Samadhi.’”

As she weaves her story, so does she weave pictures into her web. She creates the image of a ring of mountains around a taller one. “You must seek out the Flaming Mountains surrounding the Monkey King’s own Flower Fruit Mountain. He knows not that his own weakness lies within the very fires that seemingly protect his solitude.” The abstract map-like picture shifts to a mountain to the left, with an opening about midway up. “In the tallest eastern mountain, there is a cave that leads to a shrine that can only be revealed by the rising sun. In there, you will find the power you seek.” Spider Queen releases her webs, letting them dangle, lifeless. She shifts her stance and her speech from storyteller to businesswoman in a second. “Is that enough information for you, sugar?”

Red Son nods enthusiastically and hands over the pouch. “I will be on my way, now.”

Spider Queen picks her finger through the hairs in the pouch as if counting gold coins. She certainly handles the pouch as if it were just as precious. “Oh, and one more thing, sweetie,” she says, waving an errant hand over her shoulder. “A warning, since you seem like quite the impatient type. The power there is as old as the mountains themselves. It has the power to overwhelm if found in the wrong hands.”

Red Son scoffs, barely giving her words a second thought. As if there were any fire that he couldn’t handle. He leaves, having gotten what he came for.

<-- previous // next -->

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #lego #red son #spider queen #lmk #in need of refueling #fic #fanfiction #my writing #jadethest0ne #jadethestone

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vanillapie-80 · 4 years ago

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The Road to Recovery Chapter 3: Does the End Justify the Means?

Steve gets arrested by the Tribunal and has to make a choice to either go to trial or give up the amulet.

Ao3

Waiting for the children to enter to trollmarket was absolutely nerve-racking for Blinky and Aaaarrrgghh. They had no knowledge of troll law and didn’t have enough time to fully educate themselves about it. The large troll tried his best to help his companion, but books and fancy words were never his strong suit. After a few days, they finally got a message from Toby that they’d be here tonight. As Blinky was trying to organize which books would be proven useful to their case, until the redhead suddenly slid into their cave with a panicked expression.

“Blinky! We have a huge problem!” Toby shouted.

“By Deya’s grace, calm down Tobias. What happened?” The two trolls huddle around the teen as he gasps for breath. “Where is Claire and your classmate?”

“So you know when I explained about Steve?” The historian remembered clearly about that conversation, so Blinky nodded.

“Of course.” He responded.

“Well Usurna decided to arrest him instead of me or Claire. That wasn’t supposed to happen!” This was most puzzling for Blinky unless this crime extended beyond the subject of Gunmar’s release.

“How odd. Could it be that this case requires the trollhunter to be arrested, regardless of whoever wields it.” Binlky wondered to himself. “Come, we must go to the holding cells at once.”

When they got there, Toby could hardly call this room a holding cell since the “cells” were just cages hanging in the air. “I’m not going locked up like some kind of animal!” The redhead saw Steve with Claire by his side standing in front of Vendel and Usurna. “Whatever Lake did has nothing to do with me.”

“Be as it may, trollkind has relied too much on Merlin’s antiquated magic to shelter us, and now look where we are. The trollhunter has failed trollkind and unleashed Gunmar to the world. You will face trial in front of the Tribunal for James’ crime due to his absence. If found guilty-”

“The consequences could be.... Death.” Vendel finished solemnly.

Steve tensed at the sound of that, would he seriously be killed for a mistake he even didn’t do? “Woah! Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme? Steve has only been the trollhunter for less than a week and this is his first time using the armor. Yes, I get that this is for Jim’s crimes but can’t you take it easy for him?” Toby attempted to reason, trying his best to keep his cool.

Usurna's expression did not soften at the redhead’s suggestion. “There is mercy set on the table. If you allow us to destroy the amulet, we shall exile all of you, but no one will be harmed.”

“Really?” To Steve, it sounded like a deal of a lifetime. He won’t have to die and they could walk away scot-free, this all just didn’t seem worth fighting for.

“But without the amulet, there won’t be a trollhunter. How will you defeat Gunmar?” Claire asked suspiciously. To here, they’ve done so much to find a way to kill Gunmar, and she wouldn’t let all that effort be for nothing.

“That is for our kind to decide. Not for some human children.” Usurna said with a dominating tone.

Anger began to rise from Claire. “So that’s it? You’re just pissed that two humans just so happened to be chosen?”

Usurna gave the young girl a bitter expression before Blinky pulled Claire closed to his side. “My dear child, I understand your grievances, but Usurna is not someone you want to make an enemy of.” Blinky warned quietly for only her to hear. “I apologize on behalf of the welp, we shall accept the terms you have given us.”

As Usurna scoffed, Claire forced herself to stay silent, tightening his fist as hard as she could to restrain herself, and allowed the elders to leave.

“The trial begins at dawn. You have until then to decide.” Vendel looked down at Toby and Claire. “Let’s hope you choose the right path.”

Steve was then shoved into one of the cages by the guards, the door closing behind him. The cage was then lifted from the air at a height that would be too dangerous to jump from.

“Do we really have to wait until dawn to make a choice?” Claire blinked when she glanced up from where the blonde teen was and narrowed her eyes. “It seems like the answer is pretty clear.”

“I’m afraid that’s not true Steve. Without the amulet, we do not stand a chance at defeating Gunmar.” Blinky added as he took a few steps forwards towards the teens.

“But if I keep the amulet I’ll die!” He shouted. His voice was filled with fear while grabbing the bars with all his might.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There’s a chance that we can win this trial, right?” Toby looked at the two trolls for reassurance, but they grimaced in response.

“When trolls are put into trial, it’s uncommon for a defendant to be proven innocent.” The historian then quickly closed his mouth shut once he saw the redhead’s glare.

“Uncommon or not, I’m not taking that risk. My life is not worth sacrificing over a piece of jewelry.” Steve tried to take the amulet out of his chest but to no avail. “Why won’t this stupid thing come off?” He scowled.

“It doesn’t come off when you’re in distress,” Toby explained bluntly.

“No shit I am! And I don’t care what any of you say, I am not keeping it.” Steve finished with the stomp, which shook the cage.

“You’re not seeing the bigger picture here. Gunmar wants to take back the surface world. If you choose to walk away from this, all of humanity will be in danger.” Claire just wanted Steve to understand, but she knew how stubborn he was. Claire waited for the blonde teen to say more or to do anything really but he stayed silent, all while avoiding her gaze. She wasn’t sure how else to convince Steve, other than letting fate take the wheel and hope that he’ll change his mind before dawn.

Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea. Claire sighed and turned to the others, “Let’s go to the library.”

“Huh. Why?” Toby asked in bewilderment.

“If Steve refuses to listen to what we say, then trying to change his mind will be a waste of time. In the end, it’s his choice. So might as well prepare ourselves for everything.”

Steve didn’t bother watching them leave, and coincidentally that’s when armor finally came off. “Of course now of all times, you start working.” He muttered.

The longer Steve looked at the amulet, the more he felt his anger grow. Lake was stupid to even keep the damn thing. Who would risk their life like this? They were just teenagers. The vivid image of holding his dying classmate crawled back into his mind. The blonde teen immediately slammed his hand against the side of his head, trying to push that memory far to the back of his mind as possible.

“What makes you so important enough that I have to gamble away my own life?” He glanced once again at the magical object and has had enough of it. “You just make everything worse and everyone around you miserable. No one would ever want that in their life.” Steve hissed with such venom in his voice.

He straightened himself up and threw the amulet across the room. Steve leaned into the cage and dropped to his knees. Toby and Claire’s pleas at him echoed in his thoughts. No, he wasn’t going to change his mind. The amulet made a mistake when it chose Lake, and it continued to do so when it chose him.

Steve didn’t notice the amulet ticking rapidly. A bright orb is released from it and flies out of the holding cells all the way to the hero’s forge. The magic makes its way to Unkar’s petrified body. It placed itself where the amulet used to be and the armor’s markings began to glow. Back at the holding cells, Steve continued to be lost in his thoughts until he heard a voice all of a sudden.

“So the amulet made a mistake, eh?

“What the-!” The blond teen jumped from where he sat, clearly startled by his new “visitor”.

“You and that other fleshbag would not be the first.” Steve rubbed his eyes to make sure what he was seeing was correct.

“God, and I thought this day couldn’t get any weirder. Wait, what do you mean it’s not the first time the amulet made a mistake?” He questioned while trying to keep his focus on the magic orb.

“Do you not know who I am?” The voice almost sounded offended.

“I’m new to all of this magic business so no.” Steve tried his best to keep his distance away from the strange newcomer.

“Well I didn’t have much luck being a trollhunter, either. Couldn’t even last a day, I was ripped limb from limb.”

“Wow. Sucks to you.” Steve remarked, though very disturbed at this new found knowledge.

“You don’t say? For that, I’m known as Unkar the Unfortunate.” The spirit announced.

“That’s great and all but why are you here?” The blonde crossed his arms as he was becoming impatient.

“You’re so close to giving up the amulet yet you have doubts. Do you really wish to be the one to end a long line of grand warriors?” Unkar explained. “Many have sacrificed for this cause, even your fleshbag friend.”

“He’s not my friend, and why should I protect people who don't give two shits about me.” Steve interjects fiercely, now having the confidence of bringing himself closer to the spirit.

“Do you think Trollmarket simply accepted your predecessor with open arms? Carrying this mantle is never easy. But what do I know? I never got the chance to experience those hardships.”

The blonde teen pinched the bridge of his nose before saying, “Wow, you’re really proving your point there,” with a sarcastic tone.

“You think I would leave this as just a pep talk?” Unkar let out a single laugh before clarifying, “For a fleshbag like you, more must be done for you to truly see what it means to be a trollhunter.”

“Now hold on-” Suddenly the troll’s spirit began to shine brightly, forcing Steve to cover his eyes.

The next thing he knew, Steve was back on the surface of Arcadia, standing on top of the canal’s bridge. It noticeably was no longer nighttime, but there were too many clouds that blocked off the sun from ever appearing. The harsh winds shook the trees back and forth, and the faint sounds of thunder could be heard from afar.

“My sixteenth birthday, but do I get a vespa? No.” Steve looked to his left to see Lake trying to paddle as fast as he could in his bike while looking behind. Didn’t Lake’s birthday happen months ago? “I get a food processor and killer flying troll!”

From the other side, a large creature with wings came flying down, claws ready to snatch the trollhunter. “Lake look out!” The blonde teen shouted as he saw his classmate turn around just in time for the winged troll to grab him by the shoulders with an ear-piercing screech, flying off into the air.

Claire and Toby glanced at the stacks of books that were laid all over Blinky’s library. “So these are all the books about troll law?” She asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t say all of the books, rather the ones that seem most necessary for both of you to learn. Especially in a short amount of time.” Blinky started passing a few books to the two teens.

“You mean if Steve decides to keep the amulet,” Toby adds while glaring at the book he was given.

“Toby-”

“He’s going to give it to the Tribunal Claire! Steve cares for no one but himself, you should know that already.” Toby couldn’t understand why Claire was defending him so much. Steve says he’s trying to be a better person but that didn't change the fact that he was a bully most of their lives and tormented so many people under his own volition.

“Maybe, but the amulet must’ve chosen Steve for a reason. So forgive me if I have faith that he’ll make the right choice once dawn sets.” Aaarrrgghh gently separated the two so their argument would cease.

“You say that Steve now wields the amulet, despite master Jim being alive, correct?” The historian asked, hoping that he wasn’t mistaken.

Toby nodded before stating, “I’m not sure how, it didn’t look broken or anything.”

“Been long time since that happened.” Aaarrrgghh recalled to Blinky.

“Hold the phone, so this has happened before?” Claire questioned, very much intrigued by this fact.

“Yes. If a trollhunter were to be severely wounded to the point where they would be out of commission for quite some time, then the amulet can grant them the power to choose someone temporarily to take their place.” The historian explained, looking through a page in which it had the image of Merlin’s creation.

“So it’s like picking a substitute.” Toby suggested with a shrug.

“If you wish to view it like that then I suppose so.”

“Okay then, why didn’t you tell me or Jim about this from day one? Sure sounds like it’d be a useful thing to know.” The redhead didn’t want to get mad at Blinky, he was sure that the historian had his reasons. But it rubbed him the wrong way that it had taken his best friend from almost dying to find this out.

“The trollhunter themselves cannot control when to use this power, only the amulet can. And even then, it is extremely rare that they choose someone else when given the opportunity. As you know trolls are very adamant to doing things alone.” The historian clarified.

“That means Jim chose Steve when the amulet gave the all-clear to pick someone else in the woods.” Claire stated, more to herself. There was a long, awkward pause amongst the four of them.

“Why though?” Toby quickly raised his hands up once Claire turned to him with a furious expression. “I’m just saying. Wouldn’t Jim pick someone like you or me? You know, someone who knows how to deal with magic and trolls.”

“I don’t think the question of why matters at this point. Steve’s the trollhunter for now, so we have to make sure he doesn’t give up the amulet and die.” It was quite mind-boggling that Jim would choose Steve of all people, considering their history. She remembered their conversation from the campsite. Sure, maybe the two have grown closer, but it certainly wasn’t enough to explain this decision.

“And how exactly do we do that? None of us can change Steve’s mind like you said, and the Tribunal are pretty head-strong on their case.”

“Well, we make a plan. For whatever happens. And we can start that by learning how to be good lawyers.” Claire opened the book she had and gestured Toby to do the same. “Okay Blinky, where do we start?”

Steve sprinted towards Lake and jumped in hopes of catching him, but he was too far away. The winged-troll soon disappeared through the clouds as the blond teen landed back to the ground. Steve looked at the sky in hopes of finding something, he wasn’t just going to stand there like an idiot despite the many confused thoughts that were swarming through his head.

“Auuurrghh! Too high! Too high! There’s no way I can ever get down from here!” There was no source of sound to Lake’s voice, as if he was everywhere. His voice sounded so close yet no matter where Steve looked, Lake nowhere to be found.

“The amulet. I need the amulet.” Although it was hard to see, the blonde teen could see a small bright flash of light from above.

“Come on Jim. Hit the stalking, Hit it. But what am I going to do after the stalking lets go of me, the drop from here will kill me- shit!” Steve could a distant screech coming from the winged troll and bit his lip, then noticed Toby and Aaarrrgghh making their way to the bridge from the corner of his eye.

The redhead and his troll companion made no acknowledgment at all that Steve was here with them. “Hello? Am I invisible or something? He tried putting his hand on Toby’s shoulder, but it seemed to phase right through it. Steve was alarmed by this and quickly retracted his hand back. “I didn’t mean it literally!”

“Let go of me. Let go of me. Let go of me! Let go of me!-” The blonde teen hit his forehead with his palm in an attempt to somehow cancel out his classmate’s voice.

“He’s up there! How do we get up there?” Toby asked Aaarrrgghh as he managed to spot Lake.

“No wings.”

More questions continued to puzzle Steve, and hearing Lake repeating the same phrase in his head was starting to drive him crazy. The trollhunter then switched to cursing multiple times in fear, to screaming whenever lightning struck. Steve could feel the fear Lake was going through. The fear of falling to such heights that he could die on impact, the fear of not knowing how stalking had planned to dispose of him, and the fear of the lighting surrounding them.

“Too high.... Can’t breath.... Not enough air.” Fear was then slowly replaced by dread as Lake’s thoughts began to drift apart, with only the thunderous electricity to keep him alert.

Steve wanted to get out of here, he wanted to silence out the thoughts he was forced to hear. The blond teen tried leaving the scene, only to be thrown back to where he was by an invisible force once he made it to the end of the bridge. “You don’t need weapons. Your environment can sometimes be the weapon.”

Before Steve could wonder why he heard Blinky’s voice overlapping with Lake’s, the trollhunter thought, “The lighting ..... I could die.... The lighting is how I’ll finish this fight…...I could die....”

“What?!” There was no way Lake had the guts to do such a dangerous feat. Steve frantically tried to find where the stalking and Lake were in the sky.

“I’m going to end this one on my own terms..... Please be quick, please be quick, please be quick. For the love of god hurry up please!-” Then an ear-piercing sound was all Steve could hear. He wished it was a scream, but it was too distorted and there was no longer any hint of the trollhunter’s voice. It was like hearing nails scratching on a chalkboard. The blonde teen quickly tried to block the noise off by covering his ears, but it was pointless. He could still hear it very clearly.

Soon the noise was abruptly gone, and there was a long pause of silence. Steve slowly lowered his hands with much hesitation, it even took him a while to realize that there was a few tears streaming down his face.

“Hurry! Hurry, Hurry!” Toby shouted at Aaarrrgghh, watching his best friend fall from the sky. As Steve was attempting to register what had transpired, Aaarrrgghh jumped and managed to catch the unconscious trollhunter just in time from hitting the hard concrete of the bridge.

The large troll looks down at Lake, who began to open his eyes. “I’m still here.....”

Before the blonde teen could get closer to the group to see if Lake was okay, everything around him disappeared like dust being blown away from the wind, giving Steve the realization that it was nothing more than a memory, and one that wasn’t even his. Now stuck in an empty, back void, Steve began to call out, “Alright. I’m officially done with all this magic shit! I don’t even know what the hell is going on at this point.”

“I told you fleshbag, I’m going to make you see what it means to be a trollhunter.” Steve turned around and saw the spirit of Unkar’s.

“Okay one, I have a name. Two, I’d rather have the long boring pep talk than go through whatever you put me through again.” He snapped with a fierce tone, now trying to swat the spirit away but always managed to reappear.

“Ah but what of your predecessor? You knew very quickly that it was a memory of his. Must have taken a lot of bravery to kill the stalking that way. Why do you think he did such a thing?”

Steve thought for a moment, but was having much difficulty finding the answer. “I...I don’t know. Lake thought that he was going to die no matter what he did-”

“And yet the human trollhunter is alive. What would you think would happen if he let the stalking live?” Steve still struggled to find the answer, so Unkar continued. “I see that you have yet to figure it out.”

“What do you expect me to do?” Steve asked, his voice breaking. “Clearly I don’t have the answer you're looking for, and making me go through someone else’s memory didn’t work.”

“So far.” The spirit clarified. “Now you know that there’s something you must look for in these memories.”

The blonde teen questioned, “Hold on, what do you mean about that?” with an anxious expression before Unkar vanished.

Soon enough, the void where Steve stood began to take shape. It was replaced by rough, rocky walls that had green carvings that glowed, sharp orange crystals that seemed to act like bars in a prison cell. Once Steve looked around to see where exactly he was, a small dark room made him realize that it was, in fact, a prison cell.

“Not again.” He thought bitterly. But Unkar did say there was a reason he was showing Steve Lake’s memories, so perhaps he should listen to the spirit.

“Dictatious! Bring the trollhunter for another battle.” A distant voice bellowed, and despite being able to barely hear it, the blonde teen could feel so much hate through each word.

“This is.... Sooner than I expected.” Steve spotted Lake sitting in the corner of the room, where the light source was the weakest. “He’s not stupid, Gunmar knows that you have a limit. He wants to wear you down.”

Steve tried pushing down the creepy feeling of hearing Lake’s thoughts as if it was his own. “God everything hurts. I just want to go home.” He wasn’t successful.

The sounds of footsteps echoed in the prison and only grew stronger as time passed. “Here they come.” Outside of the cell was a green troll that looked eerily similar to Blinky, and two larger trolls by his side, who were most likely guards Steve assumed.

“Get up trollhunter. Lord Gunmar has requested your return, as always.” The green troll explained while removing the orange crystal as well.

“How much will it hurt this time Dictatious?,” is what Jim thought, but he said out loud, “Hate to break it to you but I don’t think I can make it.” Steve was not ready at all hearing Lake’s voice being so dry and hollow, just how long was he stuck here?

“You will battle against Gunmar’s soldiers, no excuse will suffice whatsoever.” Dictatious was beginning to lose his patience rather quickly.

The trollhunter didn’t look fazed from his response, just tired really. “Well, if you really want me to fight. I don’t suppose any of you know how to fix a broken leg?” He remarked with a small smile he managed to muster. “Amongst other things.....”

“Do you wish for us to remove your leg trollhunter?” Steve was startled that the troll was being actually serious about it, and he could sense that Lake felt the same way.

The trollhunter pictured the idea of his leg being viciously torn apart by a Gumm-Gumm, and it made Steve sick to his stomach.“On second thought, I think I’m good.” Lake muttered with a shaky voice. “Do you have something rigid like a big stick or something and some cloth?”

“Why do you ask?” Dictatious asked in an uncaring manner.

Lake rolled his eyes. “Why do I even bother? They wouldn’t care less if I was blind.” The trollhunter lifted himself up with the support of the walls of his cell. “Nevermind. Just drag to the arena like you always do.”

He limped his way to the cell's entrance and sure enough, the two guards grabbed Lake by the arms and pulled him out of the prison. As Lake was being pulled away, an invisible force began slowly pushing Steve, as if the walls were closing in on him.

“This is new.” He thought, then brought himself closer to the group.

Wherever they were, it was certainly the worst living conditions he had ever seen. Any form of life beyond its inhabitants seems to be nonexistent, unless rocks count as forms of life. Any signs of natural nights appeared nonexistent as well, as if the sun had disappeared.

“Is this going to be my last?” Lake thought. “I want it to be. I want it to be so bad. No one is coming for me, but it won’t make things better, I know it won’t.”

Steve wondered how brutal this place must’ve been, which then led to the question: just how long was Lake stuck here? When Domzalski was trying to explain the whole troll business with him, he said Lake was trapped in a place called the Darklands.

“It’s a super creepy place. Everything around you looks dead and it’s a pain to figure out where you’re going,” He sighed, then said, “To be honest, we were kind of lucky that we managed to get out in one piece.”

From the vague description Steve got, it wasn’t so far-fetched that this place was the Darklands. Soon enough, they made it to their destination. There were tons of guards everywhere inside some kind of area, and in the far-middle was a looming throne that Steve was sure any stereotypical villain would revel in sitting on. In the throne was a troll whose appearance was covered in the shadows, presumably Gunmar.

The two guards dropped Jim off the ground and exited the room. “The trollhunter Dark Lord, as you requested.” Dictatious said.

“Get up.” The large troll demanded with a growl. “At the very least pretend you are a worthy opponent.”

Lake slowly looked at Gunmar in the eye, and summoned his sword from his hands and jabbed to the ground, lifting himself up and using it as a support.

With no warning, various guards began charging at the trollhunter. As Lake glided to the sides away from the Gumm-Gumms’ attack, his broken leg was roaring with pain. Lake managed to keep a straight face, but Steve could hear it, the agonizing screams that were pushed into his thoughts. One of the Gumm-Gumms managed to hit the trolllhunter from the back of the head with their spear. Lake was quick to summon his shield when the Gumm-Gumm striked again. He diverted the weapon in front of him away with his shield and thrusted his sword through the Gumm-Gumm’s chest. The large troll petrified and crumbled into pieces.

Steve watched as trollhunter continued to fight relentlessly against Gunmar’s soldiers, and the longer Lake was fighting back, the more irritated the Skullcrusher was becoming. The blonde teen was in awe of how well Lake held on his own in a fight. After another Gumm-Gumm was slain, the trollhunter abruptly stopped and stumbled down. He gripped the leg Steve remembered was broken with a shuttered breath.

“Hurts....” Lake repeatedly thought as he winced. “I knew it was going to get worse if I moved too much”

The trollhunter could sense the presence of another Gumm-Gumm attempting to surround him. “Gunmar never seems to run out of soldiers.” Lake swung his sword diagonally at a Gumm-Gumm that was in front of him, but the newfound pain of his leg made him lose his footing. The large soldier swung the butt of their spear to Lake’s stomach with enough force to make him fall to his knees. But the Gumm-Gumm didn’t stop, they continued to hit Lake with their spear until it looked like he wasn’t able to stand back.

Gunmar seemed pleased, so the Gumm-Gumm swiftly made his way to the Skullcrusher’s throne and bowed to him, like a robot following its master’s commander. Steve heard the quiet coughs coming from Lake. He wiped away the blood from his mouth and slowly reached and grabbed his sword. “I can still take out one more.”

“Oh no.” Steve knew what the trollhunter was going to do, and it was a bad idea. Steve ran in front of Lake to stop him, but the trollhunter fazed right past the blonde teen, giving him the harsh reminder that all of this was just a memory, and he couldn’t change anything about this.

Lake raced towards the Gumm-Gumm and stabbed his sword deep into their back. As Gunmar’s soldier turned to a pile of lifeless rocks, the trollhunter smiled in satisfaction at the sight of the Skullcrusher’s shocked expression because to him, this was the only kind victory he was ever going to get.

Gunmar soon became enraged, he slammed his fist onto the handle of his throne and stood up with the look of murder in his eyes. But Dictatious quickly ran in front of the large troll. “Lord Gunmar, calm yourself. Don’t let this flessbag get to you so easily. Patience remember.” He advised with a shaky voice.

The trollhunter watched as Gumnar stared down at him and sat back down to his throne. “Take him back to his cell.” The Skullcrusher gritted his teeth.

The guards grabbed Lake and began dragging him out of the arena. On the way back, Steve could only hear the trollhunter’s abstract thoughts that felt too disconnected, itoo uncanny for him to listen to. The Gumm-Gumms threw Lake into his cell and closed the crystal bars. Lake laid in the same position for a while, still coughing up his blood, until he started to laugh. It started as quiet and soft until it slowly became loud enough that it echoed throughout the prison.

There was one thought in the trollhunter’s mind that, for some reason, was absolutely entertaining for him. That no matter how hard his enemies try and maybe even himself at this point, he can never seem to die. Many memories started to resurface. Steve couldn’t see it, but he sensed the feeling. That cold, bone-chilling feeling as if you looked at death straight in the eye and dread that comes with it. However the feeling always seems to last for a short amount of time and be replaced with pure relief, but the impact is still there, and it never loses its value.

When the laughter died down, Lake hissed as the pain of his injuries finally settled in. He dragged himself to the corner of the wall and leaned onto it. “Gunmar is going to make me regret what I did back there next time.” The trollhunter lazily tried to wipe off as much blood as he could from his face, but only made more of a mess than it originally was.

As Steve bent down to his knees and felt nothing but pity and regret for his classmate. “Got to hand it to you.” He muttered. “Takes a lot of work to pretend like none of this ever happened.” Steve thought of all of the strange occurrences surrounding Lake for the past few months. It was unnerving, everything seemed so clear now when it’d be damn impossible to connect the dots single-handedly before.

The blonde teen could feel how much the trollhunter missed training his friends. How much he missed hearing Blinky’s. How much he missed Aaarrrgghh. But most of all, how much he missed his mother’s presence. It was a warm, bittersweet emotion that Steve hasn’t really felt for a long time in such a way as this.

“They’re safe.” Lake thought. For the trolllhunter, it didn’t matter that he was going to be stuck here for the rest of his life, because Lake did what he came for.

“Am I ever going to see my baby brother?” Claire’s voice echoed. It was fine, if they were fine, he was fine. “A trollhunter answers every call. No matter what.” Steve turned and looked at Lake, before everything disappeared.

“So?” Unkar asked. The two of them standing in the void once again. “Do you understand now?”

As Steve stood back up, he responded with, “I guess. Don’t you think kind of messed up? That someone has to get hurt when they do something right? ”

“That is the harsh truth. A truth that you needed to know, doing good in the world like this must require us to take risks, even if it’s at the cost of our lives. I could not see that when I was alive and my cowardness had led me to my death.”

What Unkar said didn't sit well with Steve.“Then why did the amulet choose me?” He asked, his voice wavering. “I never took the time to do anything good for someone for so long. Why would it expect me to be capable of even being that brave?” Steve didn’t realize how much the words he was spouting out would hurt him.

“It wasn’t the amulet that chose you, rather you’re fleshbag friend.” Steve held his breath and looked at the spirit with a confused daze.

“Are you serious?”

“I have no reason to lie trollhunter.” Unkar said as reassurance.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair, choosing to ignore the spirit calling Lake his “friend” again. “That makes even less sense. He could have just picked his friends then. Why me? I’m not qualified to be a hero. I...I don’t deserve to be given this.”

“Your friend knew you before you took the wrong path. What’s to say he didn’t see that there was still good in you after all these years?” The blonde teen narrowed his eyes at Unkar.

“I told you, he’s not my friend, and I have no idea what you’re talking about with your cryptic ghost talk and all.” Steve remarked with a low voice. How would Lake want to be friends with someone who tormented him for years?

“No one is ever born evil trollhunter.” Steve blinked once, and Unkar and void were replaced with what looked like a playground.

His surroundings were blurry and faded. As if he was inside a badly done watercolor painting, and yet Steve had a feeling of familiarity. Something in his gut told Steve that he’s been here before, but could not remember no matter how hard he tried. There was an unnatural silence that made Steve incredibly uneasy. All of this just brings more emphasis that none of this was real, at the very least the other memories gave him the illusion that he really was there.

Steve walked around slowly and cautiously, trying to find the meaning of this memory, and he managed to find it. There was a secluded spot, where it managed to have every detail and aspect of its environment that separated itself from the abstract reality. In this spot were two young boys. One with dark hair who was trying to make something with the bundle of small flowers he had, and the other with blonde hair and was watching attentively, mindlessly fiddling the spare flowers with his hands.

The both of them seemed to be talking to each other, but none of the words came out, the conversation long forgotten. However, the blonde teen could see how happy they were and as he brought himself closer, Steve realized something that shook to his core. One of the little boys just so happened to be him. He then quickly turned toward the direction of the other boy and saw the black messy hair and the ocean blue eyes, there was no doubt in Steve that this was Lake.

But how? Steve had no recollection of this at all. Could he have just simply forgotten about it? No, that can’t be. It’d be absurd for Steve to forget something such as this. To know that someone he’d bully was also someone he was on good terms before in the past.

The young boy with dark hair hopped up and plopped the entangled flowers onto the head of the blonde teen’s younger self. Steve watched in bewilderment, there was no tension between the two, no hatred, fear, nothing negative of the sort, it was just a heartfelt, innocent moment and nothing else.

“Whatever happened to that boy?” A voice whispered to Steve’s ear, but it wasn’t Unkar’s, rather an older man he has never heard before.

The blonde teen glanced at his younger self, who was proudly wearing the flowers on his head. He began to recall an old memory of him coming back home from kindergarten, Steve remembered the moment his father saw him, he was absolutely furious. After that, Steve couldn’t seem to remember what happened next exactly, but rather fragments of it. Someone yelling, a child sobbing, the sharp pain of getting beaten over and over again, the bone-chilling fear that came with it, and the desperation to make it stop no matter what.

As Steve returned to the void, he thought of the day before the car wreck. The genuine smile on Lake’s face when he told him that he’d like to know the real Steve. How on earth did he manage to get his classmate to look at him the same way as all those years ago? The blonde teen sat still staring at his hands with a blank expression, the guilt inside of him building up as he thinks of every time he threw a punch at someone. Then sparks of magic formed in the palm of his hands until it began to form into the amulet of daylight.

“James has given you an opportunity.” The mysterious voice spoke. “A chance of redemption, this is your chance to prove that that kind boy is still there in you.”

Steve was awakened abruptly as the cage he was in was being lowered. When he looked down, Steve saw the others and Usurna. “I was asleep?” Steve thought, new questions now buzzing through his mind.

The moment the cage went down, Steve got up quickly as the door was opened for him. Claire noticed how startled he seemed to be and made her way towards him. “Are you alright? Did the guards do anything to you?”

“Huh? No, I’m.... fine.” He answered, still a bit dazed.

“So?” Usurna asked, “What is your choice, trollhunter?” Her staff slamming gently to the ground.

The blonde teen glanced down and saw right in front of him the amulet on the floor. As he picked it up, Steve began to think about his sort-of-maybe- dream, the mysterious voice echoing in his head. He then looked at his classmates. Steve could see how the two were bracing themselves for anything really.

“I....” Steve hunched over, closing his eyes shut. He thought as long and hard as he could, before taking a deep breath and finally straightening himself up with confidence. “ I’m going to keep the amulet.” Steve held the amulet close to his chest and then managed to summon the armor without saying the incantation.

Claire, Toby, Blinky, and Aaarrrgghh looked at the trollhunter in surprise, then was replaced with smiles. “Really?” Toby wondered.

“Y-yeah. If it’s the thing that can kill the evil troll you told me, then I guess it’s worth fighting for.”

“So be it trollhunter.” Usurna raised her right hand and gestured to Steve towards the prison’s exit. As Steve walked past the troll, he heard her say, “Your trial awaits.”

Claire placed her hand on Toby’s shoulder with a determined expression. “See? I told you he wasn’t going to give it away.”

The redhead placed his hand to his hips and shook his head, his smile still present. “Yeah, I suppose you were right.” Toby began to think that perhaps there was more to Steve than just being a typical bully, but his doubts still lingered. He could only hope that what Steve told him at the hospital would be true in the long run.

“Don’t celebrate just yet you two. We still need to convince the Tribunal that Steve is not guilty, which I shall tell right now that it will not be an easy feat.” Blinky reminded the two teens.

With the others following behind, Steve walked through trollmarket. Hoping with all his might that he made the right decision.

#tales of arcadia #steve palchuk #toby domzalski #claire nuñez #blinky galadrigal #aaarrrgghh #jim lake jr #trollhunters #vanilla writing

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space-nerd2005 · 3 years ago

Text

Maybe She’s Got a Friend-Chapter 2

After a very long wait, ITS HERE!!! This chapter is longer than the first one to hopefully make up for how long it took to come out.

Here is a link to the playlist I made to go along with it

This is the chapter Reader meet Bucky. YAY!!!

2176 words

“I'm terrified out of my mind! Although Steve did just fine, that doesn't mean I will be as fortunate. I have to go. If I don’t make it, tell Peggy I’m sorry. 08.19.41” I quickly shoved my pen in my pocket and shut my journal. Steve opened the door for me and I exited the car. I walked alongside Steve down a long corridor leading to large double doors. My heart was beating a million miles a minute. I was extremely anxious about the life-changing procedure. I had always been an anxious person, being in the SSR only made that worse. Steve spoke my name softly and I looked up to him and hummed in response.

“I can feel the anxiety radiating off of you, we can sit for a minute if that's what you need,” I smiled at Steve and nodded. Since I met him, he has had striking charisma. Even before the serum, he always knew when he needed to calm someone down. He led me to a bench nearby and sat next to me. "What if it fails, or worse, what if I'm still viewed in the same way once it's over?" I looked up at Steve. He had a sympathetic look on his face. My knee was bouncing up and down and I was playing with the rings on my fingers. Steve placed his hand on my knee, stopping it from bouncing, and grabbed my hand, holding it softly in his. “I know you are worried, but everything will work out okay," he said, holding eye contact with me.

“I just want to serve alongside those who have put their lives on the line for our country, not be a poster girl.” Steve smiled and that confused me. He spoke up after a moment of demented silence.

“You are one of the strongest women I know, this serum won't change much. You must force the change; believe me, I know what it's like to be pushed aside for being something you did not choose to be.” I took a deep breath and resolved to bury my emotions. Steve rose to his feet, and I soon followed. “Let's do this!” I smiled, and Steve returned my smile. Together, we marched into the lab. All eyes soon landed on Steve and I blushed, all of my nervous energy rushing back to me. Steve walked me down the stairs to Dr. Erskine. “Please take your uniform off, and ignore the judging stares. They are only wishing they were you.” The doctor whispered into my ear. I started to strip down when Howard Stark came up to me. “You are one lucky gal.” I faked a smile and continued working on taking my uniform off. “Just make sure you take out all of your hairpins; they could be bad for the procedure,” Stark said softly, and I nodded. I made sure to double-check I took all of my bobby pins. I took a deep breath before sitting down in the Vita-Ray Chamber. I quickly scanned the room for Peggy. My eyes danced on Steve for a second longer before returning to look for Peggy. I had no luck. She must have not made it. A deep sad feeling struck my heart. There wasn’t much of an audience this time and you could tell that Colonel Phillips was not happy with Erskine’s choice in subjects. I could hear them arguing when Dr. Erskine came to brief me on the procedure.

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“I told you I wanted an army, and a woman, THIS woman can’t fight my battles for me!” Colonel Phillips could be heard down the hall from Dr. Erskine’s office. I was sitting outside because I was called for a briefing for tomorrow. “I assure you, Colonel, that she will be a wonderful asset to your team. I would like to see how the female anatomy reacts to the serum.” Dr. Erskine replied calmly. “If you don’t think for a minute that the government will defund our department.” The door to the doctor’s office flew open and the Colonel stormed off. I could have sworn I saw a shocked look on his face like he wasn’t expecting me to be there, but he quickly covered it up with his angry façade. After the Colonel had been long gone, Dr. Erskine invited me in.

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My daze was broken by a nurse suddenly sticking a needle in my arm. I smiled at her as she walked away. Then other nurses began to prep the chamber by adding the remaining six vials of the serum. The doctor then motioned me to lay down and two more nurses strapped me to the bed and brought two arms down to my chest. Steve gave my hand one last squeeze before being escorted up into the box above us. The doctor gave me a pleading look. I nodded and he smiled and turned to a nurse, "Now." Dr. Erskine backed away and my vision went blurry for the first seconds I felt numb. I wasn’t even sure it was working. Then the pain hit me like a train. It felt like lava was running through my veins. It was so quick and before I knew it, it flipped, like a switch. Suddenly, it was cold, I was freezing. My eyes snapped open and I let out a low-pitched scream. Then everything went dark. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The next thing I see are sparks. There are sparks everywhere. Then a jolt of electricity runs in my veins and the last thing I remember hearing was a loud bang, followed by multiple smaller bangs. My memory went quiet.

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The next thing I remember is waking up in a bright room. My eyes were hazy and I couldn’t focus on anything in the room. I see a hunched-over object in the chair next to my bed. My eyes focused a little bit and I realized it was Steve. I reached my hand out and grabbed Steve’s arm. He jolted up and I got a glimpse of his face. He looked extremely tired. I frowned at him, “Steve, you look like you’ve been through hell and back.” My raspy voice seemed to snap him awake because he stood up. “Oh my,” he took a pause and looked guilty. “You’re probably wondering what happened.” I tried to think back to what happened that fateful day. Steve spoke up and I lost my train of thought. “Something happened in the chamber, causing you to pass out. Then a HYDRA agent’s bomb blew up, he shot the doctor and I chased him down. He ended up killing himself with a cyanide capsule.” I was trying to process what Steve had just told me when Peggy stormed in and smiled at me.

“You’re quite the looker," she chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. I’m sure my appearance was super attractive. “Steve, I think James needs you. I’ll watch her while you are gone.” She smiled and we both watched as he left. She looked at me and took Steve’s spot on the chair next to the bed. “What’s wrong with Steve?” I asked. Peggy frowned and looked at me, saying, "I suppose you did miss it all. Well, this whole week has been super hard for all of us, but especially Steve. He blamed himself for everything that happened on Tuesday. Then he found out that his best friend, James, or as most call him, ‘Bucky’ was declared MIA. Steve went to the HYDRA base and reclaimed those soldiers.” It had been quite the week. “Oh.” was all I could muster. Peggy smiled and said, "Your doctor said you could probably leave tomorrow, depending on how you feel. "Nothing too serious." She said this as she smiled at me again.

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In the next week, I was released from the hospital and back in action, well sorta… I am currently in a lab having experiments tested on me like I'm a lab rat. Currently, they are testing my strength. I was sparring with an extremely buff man and I was starting to run low on stamina. I don’t think that the serum affected me the same as it did Steve because I don’t have more muscle content and my stamina feels about the same. Lost in thought I didn’t realize that the man was charging at me. I panicked and put my hands out and braced my feet closing my eyes. I felt a rush wind before a loud thud. I opened my eyes and found that the man who was coming full force at me, seizing on the ground with gold electricity buzzing along with his figure. I looked at my hands and they were shooting small streams of electricity between my fingers. A few doctors ran in and tended to the man while another walked up to me. He was frightened by me because he stood a couple of feet away from me “How did you do that?” he asked while holding his clipboard up to his face ready to take notes. “I-I-I’m not sure, I imagined beating him in a fight and I opened my eyes and he was on the ground.” He looked at me and frowned. “If you could learn how to control that, you alone could be the downfall of the Axis Powers.” I smiled, ‘yes yes I could’ I said to myself.

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After that encounter I started to practice using my newfound electrokinesis, I wasn’t very good at it but I could muster up big charges that took a lot of damage but also took a lot of energy. I had finally been recruited for an actual military mission. It was to get some HYDRA intel. Steve and I had talked previously about me leaving and he said that if I did it successfully, he would let me join his group The Howling Commandos. I was excited because that meant I could go on missions, let alone important missions, with Steve. I knew I couldn't fail this mission. After being beaten the shit out of, I came home to an impatient Peggy. I explained that the mission was successful and she exclaimed with “Good, I could go for a nice meal and I know you could too. Let's get you changed and we will go out.” She smiled and I swear her smiles are contagious because I caught myself smiling brightly back at her.

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After showering, fixing my hair, and slipping into a blue Grable tea dress Peggy and I decided to head out. As we were catching up she pulled in at a bar and I let out a sigh, “I thought we were going to dinner.” Peggy grabbed her clutch and looked at me “I just need to tell Steve about Howard’s equipment, care to join?” I looked at her as she got out of the car and I decided why not, I haven’t seen Steve in a week, I kinda missed him. “I will be right there,” I told her as she entered the bar. Since Peggy was rushing me I didn’t even have time to put my shoes on. So I hopped out of the car barefooted and rushed into the bar. Immediately when I entered there was some singing and I was hit with a strong smell of alcohol. I was fumbling with my heels as I was getting closer to Peggy’s voice. “0800 Captain.” Peggy stopped right in front of me. After exiting the small room she was just in. Smiling a toothy grin I quipped “Awe you’re blushing.” A swift smack to the arm followed my comment and I rubbed it “Ouch.” I smiled again “I’ll be right out, I would like to say Hi to Steve.” I said to which Peggy replied, “I’ll be waiting in the car, don’t be too long, we have a reservation.” As I messed with my second heel getting closer to the room I could hear Steve’s voice clearly “Don’t take it so hard. Maybe she’s got a friend.”

I finally got my second heel on and I stumbled into the room, my eyes landing on Steve. “Hey, I’ve missed you!” I smiled at him. “Hey! Have you met Bucky?” I looked over to the man he was referring to and my mind went blank. Even though I haven't drunk anything I felt intoxicated in his presence. A blush crept up on my face and I smiled goofily at him. “I don’t think we have.” I smiled and Steve told him my name. Bucky said it slowly and I was swooning. “Hi,” I said, trying to act confident. Then I remembered Steve’s promise about joining the Howling Commandos. “Consider me your partner” I winked at him and Steve looked shocked as did Bucky. “You completed the mission successfully?!” “ Without a hitch”. Then my conversation was cut short by a loud honking noise that could only be Peggy. “I’ve gotta go, I'll see you tomorrow morning Steve!” I said while walking out and into the chilly evening air.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve x peggy #peggy carter

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