#it feels like they ironically went backwards on as much as they went forwards. ah well.

[pauking5]

Addicting Taste Chapter 11

Pairing: Enishi Yukishiro x fem reader oc

Genre: strangers to lovers, mutual pining, found love, fluff, spice, a lot of teasing, angst

Word count: 32.3k+

TW: blood, stabbing, violence, brief mentions of torture and kidnapping

A/N: Hello... So, first thing's first, Addicting Taste kinda went on a hiatus (against my wishes) since I was in a pretty bad slump writing-wise, emotionally, mentally. But, gear up for hopefully back to back chapters this month. Managed to draw out some pain for these ones.

I realise Chapter 10 was a bit of a wholesome, extremely loooong read, but I hope you liked it. I don't know if people even read it since it's been radio silent on that front, but I hope some of you still are. For now, please welcome insane mayhem, a mess of feelings, hopefully great plot and a few new characters. Enjoy the revelations.

For Nina. Hope you're happy wherever you are.

Playlist: Up In Flames - Ruelle, Atlantis - Sleep Token, Radioactive - Imagine Dragons, The Grey - Bad Omens, Viva La Vida - Sofia Karlberg (Acoustic Version), Alibi - Sevdaliza, Pablio Vittar, Yseult, Start A Riot - Duckwrth, Shaboozey, Lovesong - Adele, Carnival of Rust - Poets of the Fall, The Love You Want - Sleep Token

Previous

"You."

The sly snake looked down at you with sheer delight like the very sire of satan he was. That victorious smirk sitting idly on his face was enough to make your hands shoot out to grab onto his neck and twist it backwards. That would've been possible if your wrists didn't get yanked back by the harsh pull of the metal shackles restraining you to the stone walls behind.

He bent down to you, tilting his head with sheer amusement etched on his lips at your struggle. There was a blackness in his eyes that consumed his orbs like a toxin, brimming in dark pools of oil, much like the one burning in the lamp one of his men was holding in the corner.

"Pleasure to see you again, kiddo."

"The pleasure will be mine once I stomp my foot all over your face," you spit back, continuing to pull on those chains to get as close to him as they could let you without splitting your hands away from the base of your palms.

"Ah, ah, ah," he stopped you, moving his finger from left to right right in your face, like he was ordering an animal, a pet, to stand down and know its place.

You were no damn pet but more of a wild animal at the moment. And you bit fucking hard if provoked. And by gods, he provoked every cell in your body with just that wiggling finger.

Before he had a chance to reel back on his feet, your head jerked forwards and you caught his finger with your teeth, gripping onto his pointer with wolfish strength. Terror flashed in his eyes for a brief moment, so fast and fearsome you might have just missed it. Rugged arms were on your shoulders in an instant, rough fingers digging into your skin to pull you back to your place against the wall. While more of his men tried to restrain you, pushing you to your knees, the reptile pulled on his precious little digit to shake your hold off like you were a stinging bug but your sharp teeth hung on damn tight, dragging the skin over the bone with each agitated flail of his hands. Your teeth dug into it more and more, determined to rip it off his hand or at least detach it from his hand a little, but with the resistance behind pulling on your shoulders and your throat, you kept to it until you felt a crack between your canines, tasting iron on your tongue.

Blood, you smirked.

Satisfied, you relaxed your mouth and let go reeling back, letting him reef his bloodied, damaged finger back to his chest in pain.

He's going to have a hard time doing anything with it for a while. Good for him. Would've bit his whole hand off if I had a bigger mouth.

Spitting the leftover blood in your mouth before it started tasting like poison, your gaze turned back to his, dark eyes now watching you in alert. He didn't expect you to attack so soon or even at all. You could see it on his face. Whatever he had planned facing you, it all fell down the minute you bared your teeth literally.

A guard handed him a cloth to wrap around his injured finger, while another stomped your way. He unwrapped your chains from the wall behind dragging you along with them. You fought against it but it was useless. His hands reached up to lock the chains to the rusty hooks on the ceiling, securing you in the middle of the dark cell. Your hands were pulled above your head making you rise to your feet, unable to move too much in any side.

Standing to your full height, your bruised hands fell bound together in front of you, keeping you still like a lamb about to be butchered. The good thing was that it let you make an estimate of your wounds. Sharp pain pulsed through the numbness in your legs and in every other part of your body that was still recovering from almost being crushed to pieces by the wooden carriage. Most of your right side suffered deeper injuries since you were thrown against the walls more times than you could count. A lot of bones felt broken - a few lower ribs, a collar bone, twisted elbow and opposite ankle among the main major ones - but you were sure there were more you couldn't see or feel. Crumpled up on the floor you didn't feel the pain so bad, but standing on shaky legs, swaying lightly, drawing sharp breaths through your parched throat, you felt it all.

All you wanted to do was lay down and cry it all out. But you couldn't collapse to the ground in front of this life-sucking serpent before you found out what he wanted or where you were. Any sliver of information was more valuable than anything right now.

"Why am I here?"

"For my entertainment and curiosity," spoke the Snake, tightening the cloth around his wound until he was satisfied it was tight enough.

"What is this? The fucking circus gathering?" you laughed dryly, chains jangling as you wiped the leftover blood from his finger still on your cracked lips with the back of your palm. "Thought you had better taste."

"Smart mouth she has. Quite like her mother," he harked a broken laugh that bounced off the echo in the cell. "You'll be quiet and docile in no time."

Docile? Am I getting married off or something?

"For what?"

"For my plans."

From where you were standing, his plans looked to be nowhere in particular. Or you were still dazed from that solid hit to the back of your head before these people kidnapped you. Either way, his words made no sense. What could he possibly want with you? Why was he working with the Triads for that matter? More and more questions pooled in, rendering you profoundly confused.

"I'm not sure I'm following."

"A little birdie told me you were quite the rouse in Edo not that long ago."

Your breath caught in your throat, heartbeat suddenly too loud in your ears.

That's what this is about.

Barairo me, not me.

"The Crimson Rose of Yokohama they called you," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, drawing closer to you. "A teenage girl laying death to men more dangerous and lethal than the demons of hell walking the earth, the very best mercenaries in Japan."

"That bird of yours must be mistaken," you chuckled, trying to play the fool a little longer. But that dry chuckle fell unsure from your lips. a weak distraction in face of his conviction that he had the right person. He was confident it was you and had confirmation of it.

"I don't think so." He paced around you, circling you like you were the serpent's precious prey. "You see," he stopped right behind you, shadow leaning over your shoulder, his heinous whisper falling right in your ear. "You're here to fight for me, sweetheart."

You snorted. A fits of chuckles bordering on strangled laughter escaped your throat in a meager attempt to seem saner than you looked. He was crazy, maybe even borderline delusional, if he thought for one second you would do that for him of all people.

Rounded back to your front, he steered clear within a couple cautionary steps away from you, as if he anticipated another surprise attack of yours. His eyes raked your arms, legs, even your mouth, looking for a sign that there was any on the way at all.

He fears me. Good. I can use that to my advantage.

"In your dreams."

You punctuated your words with a good tug on the chains making sure to rattle them loud enough. Whatever those fucked up illusions of his were, they were not lined up in your program today, tomorrow or ever in the near future. You might have been up on the hire for anyone a few months ago, willing to do dirty work for whoever paid more. But the only people you fought for now were your own.

"Well," he turned for the door of the cell, nodding to his men on the other side of the iron bars. The door creaked open with a shriek, metal scraping the floor of the corridor lit with torches. Before he stepped out fully, his head craned back to you. "I hope you're ready. My dreams have a habit of coming to fruition lately."

"Do they include working with the Triads?"

"Ah, so you know," he nodded to himself, not once denying your accusation. "Saves me a lot of explaining to do. I am indeed."

"Why?"

That was kind of a loaded question. One he answered with a response that didn't really give you anything to work with - a goddamn shit-eating grin that went right to the pit of disgust already drawing in your stomach since the very first light flickered over his face. With that limiting conversation and a grin that gave you nothing, he left, taking the guards with him.

You didn't move until their steps faded away and all that was left in the air was silence and the light crackle of the torches. Blowing a breath you didn't know you were holding, you sank to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Everything hurt and pulsed uncontrollably along the rhythm of your rapidly beating heart. Some of your injuries ached more, alerting you they needed some attention now. Looking around the dark confinement, you noticed the small glow of light falling on a good portion of your cell. The only impediment was that is fell near the door

Pulling your feet from under you, you drew as close to the amber twinkle as your chains could let you before they tugged your wrists back painfully.

In that thin fragment of light, the long velvet skirt that was a beautiful ruby red at the start of the night was now a wet brown shade with patches of mud and grass sticking to it. Shoving it off your leg, you found a line of cuts and bruises all around each side you rotated your leg in, some of them deeper and dark red still bleeding, others just light grazes almost closed up. Your ankle looked like it felt - destroyed. Almost shattered, still usable if you ignored the angry purple swelling around it. Checking your other leg, you found the same grazes from your knee downwards but it didn't look as bad as your other leg. You gave it a test roll receiving less pain in response.

Your attention moved to your chest, feeling it too compressed with every breath you took. The corset manage to hold your middle together, protecting important organs. From what you could see there were no tears in it so nothing got inside or where it shouldn't be. And to think I doubted the extra double cover. But with every inhale of air, the boning pressed too hard against those few ribs that were broken. There was no way you could undo the laces, at least a little, since your hands couldn't reach behind.

Arms-wise, there were a few more cuts peeking through the ripped sleeves and some bruises. Your right elbow spasmed numbly, twisted inwards. You had to put it back and soon. This was not the best place to do it, nor did you have enough space to move it since both of your hands were chained, but it was worth a shot.

Getting up on your knees was harder this time around, all adrenaline to start a fight gone. Levelling your arms together, parallel to each other, you moved so your elbow was as straight as you could get it in that angle. Your left palm caught onto your right wrist to hold it in place.

I just need to pop it in. Nice and easy. It shouldn't hurt that bad.

You took a deep breath to steel yourself, then all at once drove your body forwards as if you pushed your hands into dough to mold it into shape. Though you weren't pushing into soft dough but repositioning your own arm in its right location. Pushing your shoulder and wrist towards each other, you moved your elbow back into place. Teeth grinding, you swallowed your scream and sniffled the tears away as the spasms were replaced by shooting pain, continuing to push forwards relentlessly until it clicked back in.

"Fuck," you hissed, sinking back on the floor, hands drawn above you by the chains. Head falling on your suspended arms, you sighed.

What now?

Wait?

Try to escape?

Fight them when they come back?

None of those options were viable routes to take in your condition. Your thoughts barely aligned in order with the pain coursing through you and your body took way too much damage tonight to stand up to anyone without ripping fresh scars. For now, as much as you hated it, just waiting was the best call.

For a while, you just let it hurt. You felt the torture throb through your body ruthlessly, slow and cruel, turning into soreness, discomfort that you couldn't move more. The laborious breaths leaving you went from aching gasps to much more controllable exhales. The minute some of the pain receded to mere stabbing sensations and your head cleared a little, you turned to planning.

From what you could gather, the way to the outside world had to be on the left, since that reptile and his guards took off that way. Then what was on your right? Your eyes shot up to find that the burning torch upfront was the only light source you could see alight. The rest of them on the right were not burning, drenching that area in complete darkness. You just prayed whatever awaited you down there was better than this - being locked up in a cage like a wild animal waiting to be domesticated or sold off for your services.

Your eyes widened with another thundering thought that caught your breath.

The boys.

Were they okay? You hoped they woke up and weren't laying still on the cold, wet and muddy ground of the forest. They must have woken up by now. They took worse damage in battle than that tumbling carriage could inflict on them. They weren't pussies to lie in pain until it passed on, though the scope of their injuries did worry you. One was barely breathing while the other looked on the verge of death when you reached him.

That self-righteous mop of hair worried you the most. To think he called you an idiot before it all went sideways. You chuckled dryly with a shake of your head reminded of the insults thrown around before the impact. Even when you were close to embracing death several times, he was talking your ear off about your shitty life choices like a worrisome mother would her rebel child. Absolutely convinced was he that you only made mistakes back there at the club. You came to learn that was just his nature - worrying about others before himself.

Thoughts bounced back and forth in the cold air carried down by the wind currents. The wind howled down here just as loud as outside, scaring the shit out of you when it started sounding like a real wild beast was down there, patrolling around to make sure no one left their deathtrap. Some torches ceased burning, drawing to a smoky kindle until no more light shone inside your cell at all. Only darkness and cold surrounded you, both crawling down your spine with rippling chills. The ripped velvet sleeves and the wet dress did little to keep you warm. But little was better than nothing. Shivers still shook you well, still with the searing pain inside the cold felt bearable for now.

At least this is confirmation they only took me, you sighed, burying your head into the small crevice of your tied hands, ready to give in to exhaustion.

Before you let the night take you in her arms, one last thought came through that just about managed to warm you up from deep within with a faint spark of hope.

I hope the boys are okay.

The rainstorm howled, blowing leaves and twigs everywhere it touched down upon. It was relentless, billowing above the tall tree line, shaking the wilderness down to the depths of the woods, ripping apart over him as if he was part of the forest. Like he was some kind of new addition to the open clearing full of wet, wilted greenery. One that wasn't as dead as the nature around him, waiting for the freeze of winter, but he was near becoming one with it.

He wasn't quite dead. Though it looked that way. His ashen locks were matted to his face, slapped dark with mud, dirt and scorched splinters of wood tangled in every strand, way darker than the paleness of his face and the bleeding parts of his body where his clothes were torn to shreds.

If that was how death looked, crimson like a flower of the purest bloom, soft skinned like a blanket of snow, yet so silver dressed resembling the finest royal jewels - then this death was painfully beautiful. Stealing your breath away and welcoming you with warm arms at the same time. A death that was, but wasn't.

Because he wasn't knocking on her doors just yet.

One moment he was still, as if turned to stone. The next, he drew in a gasping breath like it was his very first. His chest was hurting, moving, taking all of his breaths in and pumping the blood around his body as it normally should, but hurting like a motherfucker. He was alive, in piercing pain and trapped in his mind for extra safety, but on all other fronts, he was alive and breathing.

Somewhere between diving in and out of unconsciousness and awareness of endless pain, something moved above him. He couldn't open his eyes, eyelids weighing more than he could lift at the moment. He couldn't hear anything besides that ringing drowning the world out. But he could sense his surroundings. He could always count on sensing the energy around him when his senses failed to work with him.

It, or a person from the light motion, moved around frantically for a while then landed on top of him. He felt that, together with the blinding pain at the hard press of their body against his. If he could move, he would've pushed them away. But he felt desperation in that weak grip around him, so deep and tormented, hanging onto him for dear life, that it made him feel frustrated he couldn't gauge the situation at all.

One moment, the person pressed tightly into him as if in fear. He felt frail shaking wrapping around his arms then his shoulders, doing their best to reach him. Continual and beyond desperate, the shaking stopped on his face, around his cheeks, and he finally felt something beside the pain running through him - warmth. A warmth that was so familiar to him he tried moving something, anything to reach and comfort it. Then suddenly, the weight on his chest was replaced by a hollow emptiness. The person was gone. He couldn't feel them anymore. That's when his hearing started working again, converting the irritating ringing in his ears into muffled movement, rustling and grunting nearby. Really close by.

Something was happening. He had to open his damned eyes and look. Slowly, infuriatingly at that, all his other paralyzed senses started coming to but not his sight. He could feel the sloshy mud under his fingertips, smell it and the rain, taste the blood on his tongue. His sight took its sweet time even as his gut kept telling him to move it and take a fucking look at what was happening, but by the time he did it all turned quiet. The only thing he could hear was the beat of his heart and the rainfall hitting the ground beside him.

His lashes fluttered open, eyes meeting the blackened sky, raining down hard on his face. Trying to move was pointless when his whole body protested against it, tendrils of sharp pain bursting out in waves upon a single jerk of a finger. Moving was necessary, not a need but a must. Even so, his body just refused his orders firing one after the other. It wouldn't work like that - pushing himself in all sides expecting it to work with him. So he took it slow, slower than babies would.

He blinked away the heavy raindrops falling in his eyes, trying to clear the remaining haze of darkness away. Before he managed to gain back his sight properly, that darkness edged back in his vision, trying to pull him under with the irritating pounding in his temple. He couldn't let it take him again when an urgent need to get the fuck up and regain his bearings shook him to the bone.

He sat and sat, waiting for the pain to ebb away a little, enduring the cold rainfall drenching the rest of his clothes. Until the last shred of his patience finally burned to a crisp. Survival was his only friend for the longest but this was not the time to sit nicely with it. It was time to move. With a long grunt, he dragged his arms towards his chest and tried to push his upper body to sit at least on his elbows. Once that was manageable, he moved his head too, raising it in sync with the bend of his abdomen, hunching forwards with a shaky gasp. That was a mistake that only stirred the pounding in his head to unbearable throbbing.

"Fuck's sake," he hissed, managing to throw a hand to his head.

It hurt everywhere, but that spot near his temple hurt the most. His fingers pried and prodded, touching the soft, mellow skin there until he came to the conclusion that was a nasty gash that's been bleeding for a good while. Judging by the stinging around it, he's been laying there for even longer and rainwater bacteria was making itself rather comfortable.

Blinking away the woozy feeling keeping his body hostage to an imbalance he wasn't accustomed to, he focused his eyes in front of him. Embers burned all around - remnants of what was left of the wooden carriage. Some of them still sputtered, swallowing the remains of dry vegetation around them that wasn't completely soaked, others died down to a smoky kindle. Whipping his head to the right a little too fast that he saw his past, present and future in one dizzying flash, he caught sight of a body laying a few feet away. Zeroing in on it, he tried to figure out who it was but by gods if he could even see straight or make out the outline of the bush next to him at all.

Time to take a stroll and find out, he thought, willing his body to move towards that suspicious hunk of meat laying still in the mud.

In one brisk move, he moved to his knees. Way better than laying down in the mud and getting buried under it. But that's where he got stuck. Standing up properly was out of the question. He had to do it like he's never done it before. One foot before the other. One knee straightened fully then the other. He moved with the grace of a newborn calf, shaky and unstable on his feet, but at last he was standing. He took one step ahead of his head catching up with the rapid motion and nearly toppled over, putting way too much trust that it would be that easy to move. After all, he took several tumbles in a wooden box that nearly capsized with him inside it before his body collided with something hard and finally stopped the endless rolling, ending up in this situation in the first place.

Balancing his weight for a good minute, he tested a few more steps to get the blood flowing around before he took off in the direction of the body. The closer he got, the more it resembled a man. Dusty blonde hair peaked out from under heaps of wet maple leaves and mud and he recognized him instantly - blondie.

He fell to his knees, leaning over him. The upper right side of his suit was torn apart completely, burns climbing up his arms over his shoulder in small craters. He was scraped good, a few deep cuts on his face and light grazes over the side of his neck, but he was still breathing. Unknowingly, Enishi released a sigh of relief. At one point, somewhere in the tug of war between them, he started feeling for the guy because of you and your endless nagging for them to get along and grow a pair -

Wait.

You.

Where were you?

His feet acted on autopilot, lifting him up off the ground to take him along the open radius of the clearing, from the scattered pieces of wood still burning on the main road that got separated from the main frame of the carriage, going as far as the last fragments of the benches inside laying in the deeper opening of the forest. He called your name over and over, voice hoarse like it wasn't his own, whirling around every which side like a madman.

He scoured every corner. Lifted every side door or bench residue still standing propped on the ground, thinking you'd be stuck or hurt under it. Checked every bush and raise of greenery in case you were hiding. The rain just poured harder, making the blood on his head run down his face, extinguishing the fires still burning, except the one that sputtered to life in his chest the more he searched for you just to find nothing.

Not one sight of you, as if you disappeared without a trace.

Nothing at all.

In one breath, he was back at blondie's side, shaking his shoulders ready to yell bloody murder. The blond grunted in pain but Enishi couldn't care less about that. If he didn't open those fucking deer-in-distress eyes in the next few seconds, he would be as good as dead. The blonde continued grunting with no sign of waking up. Before he could stop himself, an angry palm planted on the other's cheek, the force of it forcing his head to the side and pulling a rough cough from him, finally awake and conscious.

"What the fuck," he groaned, his own world spinning to above and beyond.

"Miyu's gone. Wake the fuck up," growled Enishi.

That deep growl startled him enough to open his eyes wide. He took in his surroundings, then the angry, profusely bleeding gray haired man holding him by his collar at a close raging angle. Then his words registered and his mouth fell open.

"What do you mean Miyu's gone?"

"Hate to break it to you, but we were kinda hit from the back by a fucking fireball. I'm here. You're here. She's not. Now where the fuck is she?"

Cho groaned in response. "How the fuck am I supposed to know? I've been unconscious until you hit me." At that he paused and narrowed in on Enishi, brows furrowed in anger. "Why the fuck did you hit me?"

"Just felt like it."

Cho turned sideways and spit the blood out of his mouth before pushing the rough hands around his neck away. Enishi's grip never loosened, only tightened until his knuckles cracked.

"Get your hands off me."

"Or what?"

Before he saw it coming, a fist collided with the side of his head, the bleeding one. His sight got blurrier than it was as he fell backwards. He tried his hardest to shake it off, struggling back to his feet. When his eyes landed on the blond, barely standing himself but standing nonetheless, his jaw ticked and he saw red.

Two steps was all it took and he was pushing him against a tree bark with all his might. Lightning flashed above, drenching him in white, making him look like a bloodied ghost set on vengeance that's been overdue for a long time. Way too long.

Enishi's right fist connected with Cho's cheek before he could counter the attack. With that first blow multiple followed, all punches relentless and more powerful than the previous. Each punch held his rage for the past few days heading straight for the blond. One dug into his chin for hurting you all those years ago with empty lies. Another two cut his cheek open for letting him stay under his roof and feeding him when he didn't deserve it the treatment, giving him way too many chances to redeem himself. An uppercut for playing around with you like you were a toy to break his patience.

Pinning him into the bark of the tree with each strike, Enishi was set upon drilling his body into that hollow bark until he became one with it.

Cho let him send blow after blow until he got his world to stop spinning enough to respond. As soon as the side of his face started going numb and the blood in his mouth felt fresh, his hand lifted to catch Enishi's fist in his, longer fingers digging over his, all while launching his other hand to catch his arm, switching places to throw him into the tree bark instead. He dug his knee into Enishi's chest hard, then without hesitation kicked him down into a puddle of sludge he landed into face first.

The time to play nice ended the minute he smacked the blond awake. He wanted a fight? He was going to get one to remember.

This was what they were both waiting for. The anger they had towards each other just kept rising these past few days. Their instincts only knew violence and destruction for the longest time and they tempered those down enough. Each craved to see the other in pain for a multitude of reasons, most of them surrounding their dispute over you, others simply for futile fun of the moment.

It was time to put their powers to the test.

No mercy. No outside interruptions. Just them and their fists.

Enishi got up from the mud pummeling into Cho with a rough tackle, sending him into the ground hard enough to knock the air out of him. Taking advantage of how dazed he was, he climbed on top, bruised hands finding his grazed neck, pressing down with all his strength to cut his air supply. He didn't want to kill him. That hate harbored in his chest was heavy and punishing when he needed it to be but this wasn't the case for it to unlock. He just wanted to make the bastard feel the pain until he gave up on his own. A small part of him wanted to see him beg for it.

Cho struggled under his hold, hands thrashing around to find something he could use against the brute strangling him. He searched and searched ignoring the murderous gaze set on him. As soon as his palm connected with the length of a tree branch he lifted it up and flung it hard into Enishi's shoulder sending him flying off of him. He didn't give himself a chance to catch his breath before he pressed him into the ground with his foot and got a hold of his arm to twist it backwards at an inhumane angle without stopping until Enishi howled in pain. Even after he yelled in agony, he continued twisting with a wicked smirk on his face, finally satisfied to see him in pain.

The sword thief wasn't one to engage in extreme violence unless he was provoked. Enishi did a lot of that lately, especially when it came to playing around with you, acting like a saint afterwards. You were too peaceful to hurt him. Way too kind to him even in that hateful gaze after the stupid games he played. So he took it upon himself to teach him a lesson. Just because the lesson proved rewarding to Cho's ego, it did not mean he really wanted the guy to suffer for long. Just a little more would do him immense satisfaction.

Cho's victory was short lived. He might have been one of the Ten Swords but he lacked one thing Enishi held close - combat intellect. Something so inconsequential to a normal sword connoisseur but so trivial to a double blade wielder.

Enishi's right arm sneaked out from under him, grabbing a good hold of Cho's thigh as his leg kicked the back of his knee to hurl him back to the ground, letting go of his twisted arm in the process. The blond barely hit the ground before getting back up again, ready to send another kick Enishi's way. He intercepted it and sent one from the ground, angling his body sideways and kicking his leg high enough to hit the side of Cho's neck. He followed up with an elbow in his chest and an uppercut meant to cut off that annoying smirk on his face. He stumbled, colliding with another tree and almost lost his footing falling beside it.

Enishi gave him a second too long. A second that had Cho slide over the mud and kick his legs from under him. He fell backwards, flipping back up on his legs to grab onto Cho's neck once more. Though this time, Cho's hands flew to Enishi's neck too.

The sound of horses galloping went over their heads, both males busy with killing the other or doing more significant damage than the fireball or the carriage crash could. They both squeezed each other, pressing their dirty, bloodied fingers against whatever spots they caught, reluctant to let go and find a better one. They kept going at it until the shot of a gun echoed loud through their still ringing ears, stopping their brawl.

Moving on alert, their heads swiveled in sync behind them to see Wu and a few of the other gang members just looking at them and the disaster around with wide eyes. The older man approached, looking both of them dead in the eyes. In all the years he's worked with him, Enishi has never seen the man more angry than he did now.

"Pardon my language, but what the hell are you two doing right now?" He paused to look around, previous anger turning into worry with each injury he discovered. "And where's madame?"

At the mention of you they sobered up. Both of them let go very adamantly of each other and stepped away, putting some much needed space between them. They were both covered in mud from head to toe, with the occasional bleeding wounds sparkling through, clothes completely ripped apart now, worse than the rolling through the bushes left them.

Cho wiped away the blood on his lips. Enishi touched his wound again, tampering the blood flowing from his head with what was left of the sleeve of his suit. They gave each other one more look of seething rage deciding that this wasn't over. But it was a battle to fight another time.

"I don't know where she is. She was with us before we got hit," replied Enishi, looking down at the ground. Then he pushed a question of his own towards the old man. "How are you here?"

He didn't leave anything but the location with him and specifically told him not to follow in case the Triads showed up. Which they did. But he couldn't risk losing all his resources in one night. Though he did lose an important one. One he insisted stayed back but acted against his orders again.

"Madame came to find me before you left. She told me to come looking for you with back up in case you didn't get back by midnight."

She felt something was wrong, he realized, his chest filling up with dread. You were antsy and jumpy all day but he pushed it past to all the stress you've been under with the mission itself and what the result of it could mean for you. That and the bothersome confession he pushed in your arms without thinking a few nights ago.

"We need to find her," said Cho, holding his shoulder in pain. Now that the adrenaline was all gone, eliminated completely in their mini rage match, they felt the aftereffects of the crash tenfold, beyond the power of their punches.

"Master Enishi, the roads are all empty," said Wu. "It's been a good few hours since you left for the city. We won't find anything out here until morning."

The old man was right. With the pouring rain and the mud running liquid on the ground, all tracks were most likely covered by dirt puddles. They had no shot at finding anything now. Safest bet was going back and coming again tomorrow when the mud was dried up and it wasn't so damn cold. The wound on his temple agreed with him, thundering just once, hard enough that it sent his vision swimming and he stumbled over his steps. Cho's hands shot out to steady him before he took a splash in another puddle, this time of his own doing.

If he was able to stand on his own two legs, he would rip those twigs off his body and beat him with them for having the audacity to act all friendly after he tried to kill him. He did push a sarcastic remark only for his pained groans to cut through.

"Worried about me, blondie?"

"I'm worried about Miyu, not about you, Mr. Prince of the Frogs. How hard did you hit your head?"

Using the hand that wasn't holding upright the grunting mess deadset on ending his life mere moments ago, he got a hold of the side of his head to inspect his wound. Enishi just winced in response to his useless prodding, jerking it back from his hold. That sent his sight spinning like a swiveling chair would.

"We need to get back," urged the blonde, throwing Enishi's arm over his good shoulder. "We're no good to her like this, especially you."

That was the hard truth he had to swallow down his dry throat and make peace with for now. They had to get back. He couldn't do shit with injuries, much less find you. Even if the anger gripping him in cold waves at the thought of having to leave without you was suffocating. Not knowing if you were okay, not knowing what the fuck happened that you were nowhere to be found.

"Fine," he rasped out. "But we're back here the minute it lights up."

"Couldn't agree more," said Cho, helping him walk to the carriage.

Before they boarded Wu's transport, he cast a look back at the darkened clearing hoping to find something else. A clue or a hint that you were still there, lying somewhere he couldn't see or reach, hidden down some rabbit hole he couldn't spot.

Enishi wasn't one to believe in hope, praying to god for things, wishing on a shooting star or that sort of optimistic activities until you. He prayed that he didn't have to leave yet. He hoped that he would find you if he scoured the area better now, not in the morning when tracks might still be scattered under rainwater seas. As the storm rained down harder and the fog settled over the last burning embers of the carriage, he found nothing to hold onto. Nothing in the rubbles or the dense trees or even the other side of the road covered by trees upon trees.

Nothing at all.

No you.

You couldn't tell how long you've been out of it. There was no indicator of measuring the time down in this endless cave. Not one flicker of light shone through any crack in the stone wall. Not even a lost, thin ray of sun down the rock corridor. The only source of time passing were the lit torches to your left, burning up, flaring to wild flames, going out one by one until darkness was all that remained.

The strong, cold air current wafting through the iron bars, howling on the surrounding echo like a lone wolf, never got warmer. Not even a degree above the ice hanging in the air. The underground was supposed to be warmer than the world above the strips of grass and dirt, not colder than sheathed metal blades.

Pangs of hot pain surged endlessly through your body, alternating in your middle or the swollen ankle, waking you up at times only to switch position. As much as one could move chained to the ceiling before falling back into weary slumber.

Wake up. Shift. Sleep. A routine for a sleep that was neither restful or peaceful, escaping and calming like actual sleep should be. It was just enough rest to replenish your lost energy and pass the time in some other way that didn't involve staring at the iron bars ahead, watching how humidity condensed from the ceiling and dripped down the rusty poles until they gathered in puddles, drifting along the cracks in the ground with annoying plinks. You even started counting those at one point, unable to ignore the smell of dampness coming with the humid condensation.

Then you wondered, if a flood was to suddenly occur, what would it become of you? Would that snake come down to unchain and save you since he deemed you so trivial to his plans? He would rather save his own reptilian skin. What would become of you? Chained to the walls of a cavernous cell, swallowed by the water, lost in the drift heading down into the heart of a place that was somewhere but nowhere.

Upon all of that swirl of endless doom thinking to keep you awake and alert to any change around, you fell back into sleep, floating in the emptiness of your tired mind and the different scenarios it cooked up from nothing.

A loud clang shook you from the depths of a dreamless sleep. Keys rattled against the metal rods in front, clinking into each other with a disturbing noise that swam in your ears way too deep to ignore it and continue that excuse of a thing you called sleeping. Blinking your eyes open took a while. Coming to terms with the fact that you've slept with your head against the shackles for a long time took less. Your neck ached, your back coiled from a night's rest like a horse cursed to sleep upright in a barn for his whole life. At least they had hay to curl around.

The keys continued jangling in the lock, smashing into each other as if that infernal noise could make the door open alone. Finally, the metal frame was thrown open with a screech that might as well have been a train's horn. The owner of the keys stepped inside, heading for your spot in the middle of the cell. Your sensitive ears caught up with his footfalls stopping short of an arm's reach, chained arms reach. Cracking an eye open then the other, you were met with the dirty boots of a guard. He reached above you and fiddled with the chains until they were unlocked from the ceiling and thrown to the ground behind you, striking the stone floor with another clang that broke your hearing.

"Up," said the guard gruffly.

What if you didn't obey? Would he do something about it or would he just leave you the fuck alone?

As you debated your very limited stack of choices, you peered behind the guard, noticing two more stationed by, waiting. The three of them all wore commando gear - tight black shirts, vests ticked with small tanto knives inside and out, short range dao swords at the joined hilt on their hips, and dark green pants - staying incognito and on the ready for a fight at all times.

The one in front of you looked easy enough to take on - tall but scrawny in muscle mass, less armed and more sure of his authority in the way he puffed his chest. But the ones behind him looked brawny and skilled, armed to the brim with more muscles than they had weapons on hand. One of them tapped his boot impatiently as if he had better places to be. The other just seemed bored out of his mind, staring gaping holes through you. All odds combined, those two would definitely be harder to take down and they would probably skewer you before you took a step towards freedom anyway. Injured, dazed and unprepared, that was a big no go.

"Today, wench."

Rude prude.

You shot him a look that went ignored as he picked up your chains, wrapping the ends around his fists to pull you up to your feet faster than your legs could catch up. Stumbling over your steps out of the cell, your direction was almost changed for the wall upfront if it wasn't for one of the muscly guards reaching out to catch you before you could face plant in it, relocating you back on your feet a little more gently than the prick in charge could ever aspire to be.

"Easy there," he called to him before he glanced down at you. "She's important to the boss."

Important? Just how important am I to that reptile?

Bossy shoes just dismissed him and took off down the right from your cell with a huff. Guess it's time to find out what's down there.

The rest of the torches lined on the walls were now all lit up, all the way to the bottom of the long tunnel you turned for, leaping wildly with every lost gust of wind blowing through. Your extremely welcoming committee put hurry in his step, descending down a wide row of stairs with a short walkway in between every few steps. There were more cells littered all across your right but they were all empty. You didn't see one soul in any of them.

Sassy pants made sure to pull on the length of your chains a little harder at every last step before your foot landed on the flat surface, silently hoping you would stumble and break your neck faster. He seemed to have a lot of resentment towards you, holding his chin up high and mighty, but that was probably how he acted around all women.

As a precaution, you drew your shackles closer and pulled just as hard whenever he was about to step on the next row of stairs. Looking down ahead, you were about halfway down into the tunnel. It was a long way down and an even longer one back up and your growing nerves didn't like it one bit. The arrogant prick picked up his pace, running two steps at a time and you decided enough is enough. If he wanted a donkey he should've asked his boss for one.

You wrapped your fingers around the chains and pulled on your end, a little harder than you wanted. He nearly took a tumble backwards. To your disappointment, he didn't. Cracking his head from side to side, he blew out an annoyed breath. His temper seemed to run shorter than you gave him credit for and you were glad because that's exactly what you were trying to do - irritate and divide.

Nothing gives me more satisfaction than seeing men about to lose their marbles.

You let out an accidental snort that you instantly regretted. Slowly turning to you, he wrapped the remaining chain length putting safe distance between you around his arms, and he did pull harder, directing you straight into the stone wall this time. You crashed into it face forwards, getting the wind knocked out of you. The torch above your head rattled dangerously, sure that another thud would tip it over on top of your head to set you on fire.

In a delayed show of his authority and power, the guard pressed deep into your back, bladed elbow pushing you against the murky wall of the cave. You could taste the copper staining the tunnel top to bottom in dark orange spots, glowing amber in the light of the torch flame. Turning your head with a remark at the ready, you swallowed the words right back down your throat upon the sight of a sharp knife, drawn out of the nothingness behind you. Inching towards the corner of your eye, it sweetly caressed the side of your face downwards like the lips of a lover would, if those were deadly lips that could kill on a swift cut. The blade sat close enough to cut your cheek open if pressed against the skin, but far enough to keep writhing against the restraint behind you. No amount of struggling or pushing against him lessened his hold on you.

"I don't care how important you are to the boss. Try that shit again and I'll make sure to pull you down there backwards with this rusty chain wrapped around your throat until you beg me to stop," he spoke, marking his threat by snaking the tip of his knife against your cheek in small waves. Stopping at the edge of your lips with a thin prick of the blade, he spoke again, asking for your word of obedience. "Understood?"

You grunted, trying to shake him off and make him shove his words where the sun doesn't shine. He only pressed harder into your back, his hot breath fanning your ear. Tremors of disgust erupted all over your nape. You didn't need to see his face to know he was smirking like the righteous dick he thought he was being. So in true balanced nature you paid the warm welcome right back.

Before he saw it coming, you threw a head butt into his face hard. So hard you felt a crack in the back of your head. He did fall backwards on his ass this time, clutching the bridge of his nose in pain, blood seeping out through his fingers, falling splat on the floor in spots darker than the copper stains.

Think twice before trying to manhandle me, you moron. I hope you stop breathing properly.

The guards behind him snickered at the expense of their fallen colleague, enjoying the show more than you wanted them to. One of them moved to get a hold of your chain, while the other gripped your arm securely, almost as tight as the chains pulling on your wrists.

"Go get that checked out," said one of them chuckling heartily, before leading you down the last few flights of stairs.

The farther down you went, the colder it got. Keeping the icy chills at bay when they rattled the very bones in your body was a lost game. As you came to a long corridor leading to an arch entrance, you heard chatter and laughter. Female chatter and laughter. The closer you got to the archway, the louder and hardly unmistakable it got, cheerful and so full of life, unlike anything you've noticed so far in this place.

Rounding the corner below the arch, the guards walked you through into a well lit cave of some sort, much brighter than the dark corridors you traveled through. Rows of tall stone columns stood both at your left and right, all carved in from top to bottom, resembling the ones holding up the western monuments you used to learn about as a kid.

A much bigger fire blazed in firestone pits dug low behind them, so bright that it felt like the very sun was burning in the room. This cave was bigger than a theatre, stretching from the entrance all the way to the far end where you found the very source of the laughter.

There, a small lifted stone platform hosted a long table filled with food and people, some chatting away with merry in their voice, others just silently enjoying the food. All of them were women. Different nationalities, even different accents from what you could hear echoing back to you.

With the high columns touching the ceiling and the fire burning on the side painting them in a fair golden glow, it felt like you were looking at an army of goddesses having their holy dinner underground before bringing rueful battle above the earth. A painting brought to life and motion that took your breath away.

One of the guards took your hands into his rough hold and brought out a key. He gave you a look in fair warning not to try anything similar to what you did to his comrade since he might not be as lenient as him. A quick glance between his raw gaze and the sword sheathed at his side had you slump in defeat. Not that you could try anything that fast anyway. Trustful that you would behave, but wary it could be a trap, he inserted the key in the rusty lock and took off your shackles.

"Go and meet the others," he instructed. "We'll come collect you when it's time for you to go back to your cell."

Rubbing your aching wrists over the red indents left by the restraints, you turned to the masses and made your way over the long aisle as well as you could walk with a twisted ankle. The closer you got to the platform, some pairs of eyes took notice of your presence and the chatter drew to a mere shushing, until all eyes were trained on you like you walked the walk of shame. You noticed all of them were dressed in combat clothing. You wore a muddy, torn off occasion dress.

Way to make a first impression. I look like a damsel seeking refuge in a highly secured fortress. They might as well shoot me down now before I knock.

You walked a bit more then faltered in your step. All eyes were on yours except a pair that gave you their back. A familiar hunched over back, gobbling up food faster than your ears could cope with the sound. It was the hair that confused you. Dark mauve, almost black tangled wet locks of hair, longer and dirtier than you remembered her to keep it.

It can't be... you shook your head. There's no way it's her.

Sensing the quiet in the room, the girl you were ogling stopped eating, lifting her head to the girls in front of her.

"What? What happened?" she spoke, her voice coming out muffled through the bites still stuck in her mouth waiting to be munched away at. "Why did you all stop talking?"

Even her voice... That low, extremely pissed voice that could drop kick your attitude to outer space. It sounds exactly the same as hers.

Her hair, her voice, the very way she was leaned over the table. People don't share habits like those. Those traits could only belong to her. The possibility that it was her was as big as trying to latch a rope around a boar's neck. But all your senses believed it was her. It couldn't be anyone else.

What the fuck is this?

The girl opposite her, watching your every move since her eyes laid on you, nodded her head your way.

"We have new company," she said, low and sharp in Chinese.

The girl with mauve hair finally turned to you with an expression you couldn't decipher. One that you didn't need to because you knew that face all too well. You staggered backwards with a gasp of shock. At first glance, she quickly looked at you, dismissing your existence to turn back to the table. Then she choked, coughing up food and turned back to you once more. Upon seeing you, fully seeing you, her eyes blinked in surprise then in utter shock, doing several takes before the leftover food in her mouth ended up being spat on the floor.

In one breath, she was up and running towards you at full speed, closing the distance between you faster than you could comprehend what was happening. Her arms engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug, almost taking your lungs away in it. Since she was taller, your arms wound up around her middle. You breathed in her scent, going beyond the dirt and potentially dried blood stench, unable to catch a whiff of that special citrusy perfume she used to lather herself in. Regardless, you dug your head in the crook of her neck, pulling her deeper into your hold.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she whispered, pulling away slightly to look at you every which way to make sure it was really you.

That was the same thing you did, smacking her cheeks together and looking deep into her golden brown eyes like she wasn't real and just a figment of your imagination. But it was her. It really was her.

Lyla. My Lyla.

Her hands moved from your shoulders to the top of your head, brushing through leftover leaves and twigs you failed to notice were strung in your hair like you were mother nature's plod.

"I could ask you the same thing," you said, still confused as to what was going on.

"Are you going to introduce us to your friend?" asked the girl facing Lyla's empty seat. She wore a smile now, as if she waited for Lyla's approval of your arrival before accepting it herself.

"Yeah, of course," she laughed nervously, ungluing herself away from you. She walked you to the table where you were in everyone's field of vision.

"This is Miyu. She's one of the best assassins in the business I know, and an even better friend," she squeezed you closer looking at you affectionately. That squeeze, as loving and well-intended it was, it made you wince in pain, reminding you of the broken ribs that have gone forgotten in your reunion.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you grunted. "Can you just unlace this death trap of a corset a little?"

Said and done. She was behind you in a heartbeat, undoing Enishi's exemplary work on your corset a little so you could breathe. She unlaced it halfway then dug her fingers through the sides, pulling the fabric carcass wider until you tapped her arm that it was good enough. You bent over and breathed some fresh air in good gulps. As fresh as musty, humid cave air can be.

"How are you here?"

"I teleported myself here, Lyla," you deadpanned, straightening back up. She frowned and you instantly felt bad for the remark.

"I don't know," you sighed. "I was on a mission, some shit with a flying fireball happened and I woke up here."

"They took you too," she said.

The icy glare in her eyes alone, directed right behind at the archway you came through moments ago, shook a chill down your spine.

"What do you mean they took me? Too? What's going on?"

At each confused question, the wariness painting the faces around morphed into something else. Something that made them avoid

"You may want to sit down."

Another girl, much younger than the others, pulled out a chair for you and Lyla helped you over to it. She got an empty plate, filling it up with food for you as she started explaining what was actually going on in as less information and detail as was humanly possible. If abductions and arson ever went hand in hand as small talk topics, but alas.

"We've all been taken away. Kidnapped mid-mission, taken from our homes in the dead of night or literally just being ambushed while travelling around the continent."

The words coming out of her mouth made your blood run cold. Your eyes landed on the girl before you whose light nod confirmed the grim affirmations.

"All of us are really skilled assassins in our fields of expertise," continued Lyla. "Knives, guns, swords. Name your pick and someone at this table can show you the ropes. They picked us for their exclusive underground fight club."

That explains the dried blood spots on the floor from the arch entrance all the way to the far end where the dirt ground met the stone platform. But it sure doesn't explain why they were taken away, against their will, for such an unexplainable reason. The clubs you fought at, though many, were all on a consent basis from what you remembered. After all, that's how you met Lyla.

Rewinding the clock back a good decade to a few days after your parents disappeared, most of your relatives that were still alive in Yokohama refused to take you in. They treated you like you weren't part of the family. Like your parents didn't work their backs for the whole family tree line at times, always lending your aunts money or helping your uncles out with their rude specimens of children whenever they could. Being the sole survivor of the Hikari mansion massacre wasn't seen as a good omen, as if a wretched curse was following you around and would bring about their deaths too if they took you in. The doors shut tighter and faster at the sight of you, sometimes before you even knocked, treated like a stranger by your own kin and blood. And family became the very last thing you could count on.

Walking for days, hopping merchant carts from city to city, you somehow ended up in Central Edo. Begging around for food or some kind of work on the outskirts was the initial plan. But as soon as you arrived, you caught wind of fight clubs in the area being open to anyone, no matter their age or background. A fresh start from zero.

You heard it was easy money to make and even easier to track people through since most of the bigshots in the city frequented it. You attended it that day, undercover in case you'd be kicked out, only to find that most of the fighters in the ring were girls around your age. The audience sitting in on the matches loved to talk of anything and everything - crimes, mafia hits, unfinished business with snobs in high society. Nothing stayed private there. Thinking you'd find some information on your parents and have a roof over your head while going at it, you entered it that same night.

That's where you found her, sharpening her knives in a lone corner of the shared living quarters in the sewers underneath the city. Black Canary they called her. Whenever she was in the ring to fight, you'd hear that scream of hers, high-pitched like a bird of prey on the ready to send your ears into audible wreckage, symbolic of her reigning victory. She was one of the best the club ever had, keeping the public throwing stacks of money in bet tickets until they ran out, leaving the fight club with empty pockets.

Beside that triumphant scream, she didn't speak a word. She never ate, slept or trained with everyone else. All she had was fighting and the sharp blades of her knives.

With time, you learned to catch up on her habits. The way she sharpened her knives in the same pattern, up from the hilts, twice for each blade. How she trained in the tunnels far out instead of joining with the rest in the ring. That she would always come out to the weapons table when it was empty, after everyone else has already eaten, to eat by herself.

At first, you just watched her from a dark corner. After a while of building up the courage, you'd purposefully eat slower than the rest and stay around longer until she showed up, to keep her company. The first times you did it, she would get angry, shoot you a look full of hatred and leave the table with her plate untouched as if you disrespected her space or something. But as you grew older and matured, time passed and you were the only girl left around as the rest went on their ways. Only then did she welcome your presence.

Her name was the first word she ever spoke to you. Not the stage name they called her by after a successful kill that earned betting money to corrupt city officials. Her real name. The one her mother baptized her with on the cold winter's night that she was born. The name she never wanted to give up.

She never even gave her real name to anyone before you, she told you. Little by little, she spent more time with you and she opened up. You came to learn she had one of the nicest voices you've ever heard and that contrary to her silence she talked, a whole lot. But only with you and a few close friends.

Since then, you've trained together, fought together, moved ships together when the time was right. You've been at each other's side like sisters, guarding each other's back no matter what. Maybe you weren't bound by blood, but you were bound by that bond of found sisterhood. She became the only family you had left in the world, a home that you could always run to when the world got too much. The kind you'd risk anything for upon a simple ask. Even your life.

After you've left Japan, you lost contact with her for good reason, trying to protect that very bond you had since you had a moving target on your back. As good as it was to see her now, you wished it was under better and safer circumstances because these ones confused you greatly. Hell, the last few days have been confusing as fuck for you but this was next level fuckery you couldn't wrap your head around even with higher intellect.

"I don't understand why they kidnapped you all like this and forced you in here," you said, looking down at the ground like the stone floor would split open and a valid answer for why they were all gathered here would pop out on a stalagmite spear.

This was the work of the Triads for sure. But why? They were the reason you ran away in the first place. They had ties to your parents too. What could they possibly want with an underground fight club?

"Last I checked, they asked people if they wanted to join before they followed them around and took them by force," you added, subtly relating your personal experience with the Triads that hasn't been as much fun as they advertised.

"I was taken during a surprise raid of theirs in the West zone, almost off the border," spoke a girl to your left, sat at the far end of the table. Her gentle, melodious voice had your eyes snap from the ground to her instantly.

Two long, brunette braids split up to sit on each side of her shoulders. Small silver ringlets decorated random waves of the braids in her hair, from the top to the very last strand, tied tightly with leather laces at the spiky ends.

"My name's Yana. They also call me Qiang, like the spear I wield," she said with a smile.

You could tell she was confident in her wielding, much like the scabs and calluses on her hands as she extended one for you to shake. Your own palm wrapped around hers in a shake that dominated yours. Even her hold was hard like the wood used to make the base of the qiang.

"They surely didn't ask me to join their wretched cause before they set fire to my village, burning it to the ground," she said. Her eyes fell on the fire burning in the pits below, like she was living that nightmare once more.

"I fought back to protect my own, trying to help my family flee before the flames swallowed our home. I thought they were out for treasures or the small fortunes gathered together in our small quarters. But the minute I went out to fight they turned on me. Before I could know my family was safe, they hauled me away and shoved me in here."

"I'm sorry," you uttered underneath your breath, unable to process what they were capable of.

"Ah," she shook her head with a somber smile. "There's no need for that. You'll hear worse stories than mine."

Before you could make sense of her words or even begin to absorb the lengths of her story, someone else took the lead in sharing theirs.

"I'm Marissa," said the girl next to Yana. Her voice was much deeper and manlier than you expected it to sound.

The first person you noticed when you walked in the cave was her. As did she, her eyes instantly connecting with yours across the length of the rock gallery when you entered with the guards. Her blue eyes, colder than the Sea of the Arctic could ever aspire to be, pierced you in intimidation upon that first glance. Her face looked hardened by battle, used to it if you'd assume it, paler and reddish in tone around her cheekbones. Beside the tall bridge of her nose, her cheeks sat high like they were cut from hard rock cobalt.

One look at her told you she was a warrior of the caliber legends talked about, that ate battle for breakfast, won it by lunch and threw a feast fit for a queen at dinner.

Among her foreign features, what struck you the most was her ginger hair, glowing a bright auburn with the moving flicker of the firestone. It was the kind of shade you'd find on a really expensive material like imperial silk, so unique and beautiful that you'd dress her up in the finest of those silks just to see how bright she could glow.

"As you can tell, I'm not from around here," she spoke roughly in broken Chinese. Coughing dryly, she switched to Japanese in which she seemed much more confident, thing that caught you by surprise.

"I'm from Siberia. They caught me at a fortress in the North, digging up some ancient alcohol the monks were raving about," she laughed and you had to laugh with her, the rest of the table following suit. The girls seemed to be familiar with her story, certainly hearing it every now and then. It got you curious too.

"They call me the Axe Woman. I don't even wield an axe. It's more of a halberd."

She chugged down a mug of what smelled like hardcore alcohol. The scent of it wafted your way. Sensing your eyes on it like a hawk, she offered it to you with a small grin. You shook your hands in refusal but she insisted, pushing it into your hands.

"Have a gulp. You look like you need it."

You took it and had a tentative sip before you chugged it all down in one long gulp. The raw spirit went down your throat, burning out the chills wracking you all night, warming you right up. Finishing it up to the very last drop, you eyed to the bottom of the wooden cup looking for some more. That was unlike anything you've ever had before, somewhere between expensive bar liquor and ages old spirit brewed in the heart of the countryside. So strong and flavory, going right to where you needed some quick liquid smoothness.

Wiping your lips of the leftover drops, you held it back to her only for her smile to crack away into a really threatening sneer.

"I didn't mean the whole thing. That was the last of it."

A sacred rule of yours regarding alcohol was to never drink the last alcohol at the table because it could always be the last for a long time coming. A rule you forgot about that now made your hold on the mug tremble.

A loud hiccup escaped your lips out of nervousness for what could follow that threat. You jumped over your rule and drank the last of the alcohol at the table and from the looks of it there would be violent consequences since Marissa didn't seem to play about her liquor. After all, she did get caught and thrown down here as she was looking for some.

Debating your chances against her broader, much taller form had your stomach growl in protest. Then a huge burp came out from the depths of your throat before you could stop it. The eyes around the table rounded wide, all directed at you like you've committed the utmost final sin. You cursed yourself for being so selfish.

They're going to skin me alive for a mug of alcohol.

If they write that on my stone I'll become the laughingstock of pooping pigeons.

Maybe that plea could be my last words.

If I get the right to any last words.

Just when you thought the world was about to end for good, the whole table erupted in hysterics at your expense. They were just playing with you. Your face must have given away your stupid thoughts because even Marissa threw her head back howling, hand hitting the table in utter amusement that you weren't following along the trick.

"Don't worry. I had enough for today," she smirked in teasing, her shoulders rolling with a few more giggles. "Your face was priceless."

Your shoulders fell with a sigh. "Very funny. I nearly said a prayer with the last drops of it stuck in my throat."

"I love alcohol, but not enough to kill a sister. You're one of us now."

That made a smile fall on your lips. You've been here for a shitload of a few minutes and they already took you in as one of their own. The feelings were mutual, nods already falling in agreement with Marissa's words.

Suffering unites people in the worst of times. But how much of it did these girls go through that a simple good word and a laugh with you had them swear your name off their killing lists? From the fading scars on their faces and hands, way too much of it crossed their paths. The ones laying under the surface, deep in their souls, must be hurting worse. You could see it in their eyes - the haunting moments they lived in here.

The table quieted down and everyone went back to enjoying their food. Once the coast was clear of volunteers, it was someone else's turn to tell their story. Nothing could have prepared you for this one.

"I'm Mai," spoke the girl next to you. She was the one that pulled your chair over with a small smile.

A tiny thing she was, not a year above sixteen years of age. A young girl. You were a teenage girl too when you started fighting, much more younger, but at least you fought willingly and on your own terms.

"I've been here the longest," she said, cutting through your train of thoughts. She looked down at her plate with a small twitch of her lips that could barely be a smile.

Your heart thrummed in your chest at her words.

The longest? A child has been here for the longest?

"How?" was the only thing you could mutter, unable to get over the shock of what she was telling you, like it was a fable, far from reality.

"My parents used to work for the Triads. They were two of the best assassins they had. After they had me, they wanted to pull out and live a normal life but the bosses just wouldn't let them go. They ran away to protect me but the troops caught up to us," she said, her soft brown eyes filling up with unshed tears.

"They took me as revenge. It's been almost ten years since then."

What kind of animals do this shit?

"They kept me here and trained me, had me fight sometimes, welcome the newcomers. I don't go to the upper world though. It's always been off limits to me. I keep hoping that one day they'll let us all go. I don't even remember how it feels like to see the sunlight," she said, mumbling the last part as she sniffled away an angry, stray tear before it could fall away from her face.

She's been held down in this cold cave, with barely enough food to eat or a real bed to sleep in, as a killing machine for them?

For ten years?

Those weren't people. Those were mad devils walking the earth with no scruples and a slithering tail in place of a spine. These demons captured a young girl and locked her up in a fighting cave, making her call it a home when she should be in an actual home, in the comfort and the warmth of her parents' loving embrace, exploring the beauties of the world.

Your parents were snatched away, leaving you to fend for yourself in the unknown dangerous world. But they didn't take you like this, without allowing you time with them. But to steal a child that's barely been in the world for so little, taking away her right to live a life... This... this was madness. A madness that fueled your rage for the Triads even more.

"Can I hug you?" you asked, before even registering the words spilling out. "I just... you remind me so much of me."

At first she hesitated. You could see it on her face - a wonder for the comfort that she barely got to feel. Arms stretching out with a smile, you hoped she could look past the roadkill look you sported and get in there.

She passed you a slow nod and you rushed to engulf her in a delicate, gentle hug, hoping you could let her feel some of the warmth she's missed all these years she's been locked in this hollow lifeless pit. She probably hasn't had one of these in a while since she melted into your hold within an instant, burying her head in the crook of your neck. You squeezed her as hard as your wounds would let you, ignoring the stabbing pain under your ribs. The pain you were feeling didn't even compare to what she must have gone through. So you held her close, carding a hand through her soft locks, feeling her bury closer in your arms.

Maybe the others weren't the soft type. The assassin job usually meant killing off your softness in order to get things done quick and less messy. But no matter how much you or Barairo tried to get rid of this gentle side of you, it never worked. You never let the rage consume you to the point of no return. Perhaps it was the luck of being raised for more than half of your life by loving parents, a thing not many can say. Maybe keeping this kindness was what paid respects to their memory. Whatever the reason, you hung tight onto it, never letting go. You'd be dead and gone before you let that happen.

Your heart ached for her. This shred of kindness, as small and insignificant as it was, was all you've been missing growing up on the streets of Edo. Alone, scared, with no future in sight. A young girl left to fend for herself with no place to call her home, nowhere to turn to.

Pulling back from each other, you brushed her ebony hair back softly, the very way your mother used to.

"You're brave, Mai. So brave. Braver than I ever was back then," you said, cupping the side of her face. "Hold that close to your heart."

Her cheek leaned into your hand like a tigress letting herself be tamed. You could feel the anger she kept inside, but from the looks of it she was better at controlling it than you did.

The rest of the girls at the table introduced themselves and told you about their abductions. Every one of these girls braved through the odds to survive and live as best as they could, every story more tragic and painful to listen to. At one point you noticed something that raked chills down your spine. All the reasons for which they were taken blurred into a disgusting pattern that shook you to your core - they were all taken for their skills in battle. For being good, undetectable assassins in their local areas. For their expertise. For their unparalleled strength. None of them were housewives or farmers. All of them were powerful warriors.

Why they took only girls was a mystery beyond you. These girls were all well known in their fields and could hold their own against an army if they wanted to. And you found out that's exactly what most of the women at this table did if they had chance - they put up a battle in front of this unforeseen danger. Some fought legions to protect their own and keep the danger at bay for as long as they could. Others were taken as they carried out the only job they knew, trying to survive the days the only way they could, even if that meant taking a filthy life off the face of the earth in exchange for one more day or one more week to win the roof over their heads and the small meals they could barely afford to stay alive.

They were brought here to fight for their lives at the will of that smug serpent lounging in the luxurious comfort of the upper world without a worry in the universe, as if nothing and no one could take the world from under his feet.

What they called the upper world was the very world promised to them. The world they came into as little girls, to grow and blossom into amazing women and fearsome warriors, to become forces of nature that wished to protect and aid, not at all divide and conquer. The very world they now looked to from beneath the layer of the earth above this cavern, as if they were already dead corpses waiting to be absorbed a level lower than the one hosting their pain and anger at the moment.

They had a lot of it - rage. The pure kind that could tear through anything and wreak havoc on the world. You could feel it flow from them as they shared their individual stories of becoming and their changed endings before they even got to live the lives they had planned. And they had a lot waiting for them. Daughters, sisters, wives, engaged to be married to their chosen ones. So much that was taken away. So much they might never get back.

But not even channeling all that anger nor their skills, could help them get out of this hell. Twenty souls, beside you, all trapped in this dungeon until the lord of the house spoke of their use or freedom. A freedom which, from their small lettings, often came at the price of death in battle.

"You said they make you fight."

Your voice cut through the sea of silence hanging over the table, carrying out like a wake up call of what they were about to go through again and again, in a never ending cycle, as if they did not know anything of it before you mentioned it. You could tell from the way they avoided your eyes that they tried to forget about that part, fighting against the reminder of their fate at least now as they shared a meal together.

"Who do they pick against who? What are the rules? Do you get anything when you win a fight?"

Your questions shot out one after another before your brain could catch up to them. Yana simply smiled at you. A smile so full of regret and yet filled with endless compassion, that you were starting to grow fond of. She must have smiled a lot more before she was thrown in this shithole.

"They pick one of us at random," she said, picking your questions up in order. "Against outsiders mostly. Mercenaries, other assassins, big shots in the other mafias. People they have a bone to steal from, targets they want killed or taken care of. They've never had us fight amongst ourselves and for that we're a little grateful."

"Rules are simple. You fight, kill or get killed."

Her smile fell at the last one and you felt your heart twitch painfully in your chest. She didn't have to go into that one to know that some of them did refuse to fight or died in the fight. That thought alone made your insides twist and churn, not in hunger but in horror with another realization.

There were more of them locked down here and some of them didn't survive it.

Yana must have read the miserable sensation coursing through you right on your face. She gave you no time to dwell on it before continuing with more answers, though you dreaded having asked those questions now. But she needed you to know what waited for you.

"Winning a fight doesn't do much. We did agree to ask for similar things, like a full meal or a week of no fights so we could rest and heal."

The table filled with food in front of you was someone's well-earned meal, shared well with every hungry stomach. The very food you were eating was fought for with blood, sweat and wounds that were probably not healed yet.

Unable to help it, you scoured the table trying to spot the one who gave herself to battle to earn this feast. All of them were decked in bruises and cuts, some more recent, others scabbed over. You searched each girl for new, fresh wounds from left to right. Then your eyes laid on Lyla who was slurping noodle bowls by the second beside you, who turned awfully quiet all of a sudden.

Then it hit you - Lyla eats like that only after a fight. You knew her appetite was as big as a sailor fleet after her fists were locked in someone's face. Raking your eyes over her, you didn't notice it before but her eyebrow was indeed split open, as was her lower lip. Fresh cuts were littered between purple bruises on her arms too, one darker than the other as they peeked from under her torn sleeves. Her hair fell from the messy ponytail, some pieces drenched in the stench of dried blood.

Feeling eyes on her, she stopped slurping her soup, turning to you with a noodle hanging from her mouth.

"What?" she mumbled, slurping the noodle in with a pop.

"It was you this time wasn't it?" you asked, looking down at your plate in guilt.

"I did what I had to do," she shrugged. Her eyes landed on your plate that sat untouched this whole time, letting out a long sigh at your stubbornness.

"Miyu, please eat. You're hurt and this is the best we'll be getting for a while. There's no need for guilt-sulking and all that humble bullcrap. Eat. Please."

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Your hand moved on autopilot. Grabbing a cloth, you raised it to her split eyebrow dabbing the blood away. She slumped in her seat and let you take care of it, knowing you'll just pester her about it until she did it, which would probably be never. She had a bad habit of letting her injuries dry up and heal by themselves, deeming it natural and less burdensome than patching herself up properly.

"Miyu," she groaned like a child, a few seconds away from shoving food in your mouth herself.

"Okay, fine," you smacked the cloth down on the table. "I'll eat."

Looking down at your plate, you saw it was ticked up with roasted chicken thighs and mashed potatoes. Dying of starvation didn't seem so bad considering it was food from the enemy. But the meatballs Enishi shoved in you before the mission were long digested. Your stomach grumbled dangerously at the sight of the chicken, the roasted smell, the way it looked so appetizing, and you couldn't deny it any longer.

Launching yourself into it, you ate that chicken like you've never had it before, chewing it on all sides like a famished wolf that finally found edible prey to eat. The meat was so tender and well cooked, you couldn't help a moan at the taste. A few girls snickered at the way you were eating, slurping the meat off the bone by the second like it was jelly.

"Slow down there, rosy," giggled Lyla.

Once you were finished with the chicken, your fork headed for the potatoes. Yana pushed a bowl of stew your way too.

Too busy inhaling the food, you failed to hear the echoing click of heels rapidly making their way along the corridor. Everyone stopped eating in a similar manner to when you entered, diverting their eyes away from the food and to the figure standing behind you. You stopped eating too, feeling someone standing there, glaring daggers into your nape.

"You're in my seat," spoke another female voice, much more pitchy and annoying than any you've ever heard.

Turning around slightly, you were faced with the very bitch from the Shanghai Club you tried so hard to kill all night before you ended up in this place.

What a surprise.

Patting your lips with a tissue, you placed it swiftly on the table and got up from your seat facing her. Her face was still swollen, cuts and bruises decorating her all over from forehead down to her uncovered neckline.

"I thought I killed you," you smirked at her, crossing your arms over your chest.

"And I thought they burned you alive in that carriage along with your boyfriends," she sneered, like the evil vamp she was. "I guess we don't all get what we want."

You chuckled dryly at her, averting your eyes away from her irritating presence. That remark was enough to rail you up. Before she saw it coming, your smirk fell and your fist connected with her face, throwing her to the ground.

The night was still dark when they got back to the mansion.

Enishi made his way right to the office with the help of one of his men while Wu helped Cho out of the carriage. The older man gathered all men on duty in the room, instructing them to bring medical supplies and send for the doctor from the village, then started working on Enishi's head wound.

If there was something Enishi hated with a passion in the whole world, it was people fussing over him. Even when he simply scraped his knee on a grocery run with Tomoe and she rushed him home, he would berate her that he was capable of taking care of himself well enough, not in the need of anyone else's help. In those times, she would angle him down with a look of warning and lecture him that being hurt wasn't a weakness but a strength, a sign reminding him that he was human too. That was the same look the old man gave him, though less lecturing and more annoyed as he kept telling him to sit still. Sitting still was not in his itinerary for the night.

It took a while. At one point, he thought that Wu was moving slow on purpose, testing his patience. Wound cleaned and bandaged, he called over some of his men, delegating tasks of immediate execution and precaution, taking it from the beginning of it all.

He had to be quiet about what happened at the club, giving away only necessary details where needed.

"I want information on everything that moves inside and outside of Shanghai. Imports, exports, hidden shipments. I want to know about all of it," he demanded, tone strict and without a sliver of mercy. "Every little detail about people or stuff that's not where it should be, you have it going through my ears as soon as possible."

They all nodded, taking off out the door one by one as soon as they were handed work and locations. He sent some men back to the club to scope out anything suspicious or of interest, warning them to keep a safe distance and not get found out. If that happened, they were completely on their own and he could do nothing more for them.

Whoever sent the carriage ablaze believed all three of you were taken care of, set on fire to mere ashes tossed in the wind. Letting them believe that some more would get him places much faster.

The rest of his men were gathered in the room, but he failed to see a few.

"Is everyone here?" he asked Wu.

"Yes," he said, sticking a bandage over Enishi's wound. "Except the ones you just sent out and my own."

His fingers stopped prodding at his wound pulling back to look at Enishi's face for any leftover cuts left untreated.

Enishi's eyes bounced around, doing a mental count of how many men he left on duty, the ones that were off tonight and the ones he's already deployed. Some of them were definitely missing from today's force.

"Who did you take with you in town two days ago?"

"Just my crew. The twins, Kano, Liu and Yao."

The twins he just sent out to gather intel from the club, knowing they were the most silent weapons he had. He turned around looking for the rest, finding only Kano and Yao, loudly bickering about something in the corner as always. Those two could never get along and he always sent them out on missions together on purpose, hoping they would sort out their shit.

He kept twisting around Wu, trying to spot everyone only to fail at it. Wu himself turned around and looked for his own.

"Liu's not here," he concluded. Then his eyes widened to the size of rice balls. "I haven't seen him since we went out in the city and relayed info to you and madame a few nights ago."

Liu's been one of the older recruits Enishi picked out at the start of the mafia ensemble. He was good at finding out important information fast and promptly, often the one at the helm of interrogations. Liu made people talk quicker than he expected them to.

Enishi didn't know a lot about the guy himself. Lately, he placed him under Wu's directive since he had more connections and could reach a wider spread of information inland outside of the mansion walls.

Falling in his seat, he tapped his fingers on the wooden arms of the chair in deep thinking, zoning out of the ruckus and mobilization around the office. Someone talked in the wrong ear about his plans. He's suspected it for a while as he investigated the missing shipments, but after tonight, he knew for sure that he had a mole walking freely within his walls. Someone he's fed generously, gave a roof over their head, a warm bed at night and a secure and well-paid job to do. Someone who was ungrateful and selfish enough to throw all that away and sing at someone else's table about things that should've never left these walls.

The timing of Liu's sudden disappearance was too obvious and in plain sight not to fall under the suspicion that he was involved in tonight's shitshow. Not just that, but having been with Wu to gather intel on your parents, adding his presence the night Wu told you that, he knew enough about you to hand you over to the Triads and set up a trap to get you killed without anyone suspecting anything.

"Bastard," he muttered under his breath. "Send your men after him. I have a feeling he has something to do with everything going to shit tonight."

"On it," he nodded, leaving him be.

Leaning on the back rest, he propped his head back and closed his eyes for a second. It felt like this night just wouldn't come to an end. It started so well that he himself was hopeful it would finally get you somewhere, that the false leads ended there at that wretched club. In turn, it all changed for the worst.

Enishi got up to walk around and stretch his legs a little, ending up in front of Cho. The village doctor was taking care of his shoulder, stitching up the open grazes slithering down to his side. He took a peek at it since it was uncovered, noticing that the whole of his right backside was covered in a long burn, bruised on the sides. The blond winced in pain wherever the doctor touched him, unable to keep still.

"You good?"

"Been worse."

Enishi's head turned to look at the window catching dawn on the slow rise. The doctor finally finished his job, helping Cho pull on his shirt to cover his back. He got up, walking beside Enishi,

"You're going back out there, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "You should stay back. That thing on your back looks nasty."

"Your head being split open is nastier."

"Are you worried about me again?"

"I'm worried you'll miss out on clues since you can't see straight enough to send a punch properly."

"I don't think you want me to send a punch your way properly," said Enishi with a smirk, grabbing his kimono. "Meet me out front when you're ready to go."

Enishi left, taking a few more men with him, leaving the blonde confused with his mouth agape. He thought he had that quarrel in his hand only to be fooled. Enishi never went full on with his punches. He did made Cho believe he gave it his all though.

They were out riding back to the scene as soon as the sun rose up. They took horses this time, wary of carriages for the time being. The horses got there much faster and the rain stopped too, drawing to a slow drizzle.

Dismounting at the scene of the crash, the smoke still ebbed from the rest of the bigger remains. A low cloud of fog settled with the temperature change, but the endless puddles of rain were almost absorbed into the ground. That was a positive, but the slippery, muddy ground not so much.

"I'll take the right," said Cho, heading for the other side of the clearing.

Enishi nodded, moving to the site of the crash. "I'll take the left."

Splitting up was better than nothing. They searched and searched, flipping over even the doors or the wheels of the carriage that were still in solid state. Enishi found nothing. Not even a ripped piece of fabric from your dress or a loose thread hanging from a branch floating lonely in the wind. He looked for your necklace too in case you lost it here. But he found no track or lead on you, like you were never here in the first place.

They rejoiced on the main road as the rest of the men kept searching.

"Anything?" asked Cho, a glint of hope in his eyes that only shattered when it landed on his search partner.

Enishi shook his head discouraged. "You?"

"Nope."

"How did she even just disappear into thin air like that?"

"I don't know."

He replayed the events of the night up until the crash and from when he woke up. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't grasp what happened. He knew there was a part of tonight that was missing from his head. a part that might have been ripped away by the pain he was in. That hole between the crash and him waking up was pissing him off. He knew something happened but he couldn't recall it back.

He looked back at the bush he rolled through. Pinning down the place he was laying in and the spot he found Cho in, he looked for a way to measure the spot you would have been in after the carriage broke into pieces. Walking around the splotches of mud, he followed his gut and took off towards the woods. Something about the woods bothered him.

Thinking hard on it, he got a few steps away then it hit him like a flash of lightning touched his head - he did feel something happen. The person crashing into his chest, shaking him awake desperately and the rustles around him until everything went eerily quiet.

"It was her," he spoke breathlessly alerting the blonde.

"What are you talking about?"

"Before I woke up, I felt something. She tried to shake me awake. One moment she was grabbing onto me then the next she was gone."

His head started pounding and he had to hold onto it. That wasn't all. He saw you too, kicking and screaming through the haze as someone threw you over their shoulder. Then he blacked out again.

"I saw her."

"You saw her?! What do you mean?"

"Someone hauled her up and took her away," he groaned as he was spilling detail after detail he couldn't recall witnessing before.

"At least now we know she was here. We just need to figure out who took her."

Pacing around, Enishi took a look at the rubbles again. His eyes drew back to the road, mentally piecing together the events of the night leading up to the crash. That fireball came from the direction they left from - the club. A planned attack? Maybe. From which side present last night? The Triads? The Daos? The men behind that traitorous scum he killed? That was the mystery Enishi couldn't solve.

They were barely half an hour away when it happened. It definitely had to be someone from there. The Triads were barely armed but someone back there was loaded, both inside and outside to ensure their own safety - a mafia. If anyone had access to a catapult and incendiary ammunition on the side of town it was them.

Upon seeing the grim smirk on Enishi's face, Cho shuddered. Whenever he had that look on his face, it was either good or bad news, for him or for someone else. The blond didn't feel like playing the lottery right now so he just asked.

"What are you thinking?"

Enishi's gaze lifted up to him with a deeper grin.

"I think we need to pay the Daos a little visit."

Violence is never the answer. But it sure looked like it when this cross-legged, brunette, excuse of a human being opened her mouth.

You couldn't hold back when she spoke like it was her who ordered the attack on you and the boys and the heartless way she said it was enough to make your blood boil with rage. Once your punch flew her way, your hands wound up around her neck, planning to choke her until she spilled all her useless words and bitchy attitude out.

"What the fuck did you just say?" you gritted, pressing harder into her neck.

"Exactly what you heard," she spoke through gasping breaths. "You were all supposed to perish with that one fireball."

"How about you perish by my own two hands?"

Hooking a hand into her lacy top, you got up and dragged her along on the floor until you reached one of the stone pillars on the side. The girls watched with mouths open from the table as you lifted her up to it, smacking her head into it multiple times. That irritating grin on her face never fell away, even as you bashed her face in pretty well with just that one punch, splitting her lip open right next to the previous damage you made back at the club.

Upon hearing the ruckus, the guards came back down but never intervened, sitting at the entrance with smug looks on their faces, just enjoying their temporary entertainment.

So focused on strangling the living daylights out of her, she dug a powerful punch of her own right into your broken ribs. The pain spread worse than before, pulsing with every heartbeat in your chest. You winced and let go of her to hold onto your side, pinning her down with another murderous look.

Dirty little ass bitch. Just wait until I step on your face.

Determined to do just that, you kept your hand on your side, spinning a roundhouse kick her way. She stepped backwards, but the tip of your boots still scrapped her nose good enough to give her a nosebleed. You didn't give her time to fall back in attack, following up with a reverse side kick sending her right into another stone pillar.

"Damn, girl," howled Marissa. "You can fight in a dress and look badass in it too? Where did you get it?"

"I made it."

"Consider me putting in an order."

Your eyes widened. Your first customer just made an appearance. One you were excited as hell to dress up from the get go.

"Really?" you asked, facing her.

"If you're free of charge?"

"For you, anytime," you smirked.

In your customer scouting haze, you left your back open giving your denigrated sister an opportunity to run and jump on it. She wrapped her legs around your torso and her slinky hands around your throat trying to cut your air supply off, squeezing hard on all fronts.

Why is she like a bug you just can't kill?

Running backwards, you shoved her against a pillar, rolling for another fall and another, until she finally slid off your back grunting in pain. But she didn't slide off without grabbing onto the length of your hair to haul you on the ground instead. She wrapped a fist into it, pulling on it whichever side she wanted. Your hands wound up over hers trying to pry them away, aimlessly kicking at her until something shiny glinted in your peripheral and all your movement ceased.

She had a knife on hand. When she swiped the blade off the table, you had no idea, but before you could kick it away she flipped the handle upwards and thrust it hard into your thigh, making sure to plunge it deep through the material of your dress. Blood seeped out from the edges staining the ruby red a deeper, darker shade. You cried out in pain, letting a hand fall from her wrist tugging on your hair to sit around your new wound. Coupled with the jostle in your ribs, it hurt like a motherfucker.

The girls got up from the table in a haste, heading for you with shouts to stop her but the guards ran their way to keep them aside, pulling their swords out. They wouldn't get involved. They had no reason to as long as you both were breathing and not on the edge of death. This was unsolved business between you and her.

Her deft fingers, scarred from playing the violin, now inched deeper into your scalp with violent intent. Pulling your hair to her, she got closer and grinned widely in your face before making a tight fist and sending it to you with her empty hand while the other kept you in place. She kept going and going like she was following a written score on her instrument, replacing a musical sheet of paper with your face, drawing the notes with her knuckles instead of a pencil.

When she was satisfied with the bruises forming on your face and the black eye she gave you, matching the very damage you did to her face she stopped, leaning down to you. This time, her eyes were far from soulless, like they appeared back at the club. They were full of venom and spite.

"This is what you get for sticking your nose where you don't belong. You can't kill me in here. I'm the only one that can walk in and out of here unharmed while you all rot down here like rats." Turning her venomous sight on them, her tongue rolled with more insults at the address of the girls. "After all, that's why he collected you all. To eat up the trash and clean up the mess, getting scraps from above for food," she laughed. "Just like rats."

She had a lot of nerve to say these things when any of those girls could just wrap their hand around her wrists to snap them in two, making sure she would never play that wretched violin ever again. Why none of them did it yet was a question you were burning to ask. Once you finished this.

Spitting out the blood swimming in your mouth, you turned up a smirk of yours as your hand wrapped around the handle of the knife, silently bracing yourself for the pain to come.

"I may not be able to kill you," you grunted, twisting the knife upwards and out of your leg. Your blood dripped off the knife, inaugurating the stone floors with your presence.

"But I can make sure you keep your fucking mouth shut."

Faster than she could catch up on your move, you pulled out the knife from your thigh, flipping the handle and plunged it into her arm. You went deeper than she had the courage to stab you, making sure the hilt went through until it touched her skin like a wall decoration.

She shrieked, letting go of your hair to draw backwards until she reached the empty table, putting distance between you. She pulled the knife out and stood right back up, grabbing as many unused knives as she could find on top of the table. Pushing yourself up to stand with a bad ankle and a bleeding thigh, wheezing with the sharp air you drew in, you scoured the place for anything you could use to defend yourself. You ended up with the chair closest to you that looked worse for wear in your hands. You smashed it on the floor and broke it into pieces, grabbing a good hold on the longest parts.

She has knives and I have... wood.

Real inventive.

I can make a pyre and burn her on it. Maybe then she'll finally die. Big maybe to test out.

Your plan remained unfinished as she started throwing the knives at you one by one. The wooden planks flew out to catch them before they impaled deeply in your skin, wishing to keep the stabbing count at one and done. You let her throw all of them, avoiding the lower ones and paring the upper ones to the side, sending them right into the burning firestone at the side. She kept at it until she had no more blades to throw, seething as she looked at the forks stabbed in the meat as if she was tempted to throw those too, food included.

"Nice try, but you missed" you yelled, taking her attention away.

She smirked at you like a viper. "Check again."

What? I don't need to check again... Your eyes drifted around your arms, your heaving torso, front and back, then stopped at your legs. Indeed, there was another knife sledged in your leg. Right beside the gash she already gave you.

You've got to be shitting me.

The adrenaline of the moment might be what kept you from feeling that second knife embed into your thigh so close to the other one. It looked way deeper than the first. Your leg turned numb too, which wasn't a good sign.

On one more rage spurt, you threw the wooden logs in your hands at her, then collapsed on the floor. The first log missed but the next smacked her right across the face and you couldn't help a snort.

"Okay, this ends now," yelled a guard, finally moving to break the fight apart. He took to the brunette's aid, instructing the girls on what to do unless they wanted to bear consequences.

"One of you go pick up the new catch and help her to her cell. The rest go back to eating. If you're not done in the next ten minutes, there will be no more food for you this week, fights won or not."

That was a punishment that should've been yours, not theirs. You started the brawl in the first place.

With that warning, they left the way they came, taking the wench with them. Once they were out of sight, you let out a sigh that hurt like hell under your smashed ribs. Lyla ran over to you, followed by the rest each firing hundreds of questions at you. You waved them off unable to focus on any of them but the numbing feeling in your leg.

"Go eat guys. You need it more than me." You shot Lyla a look as you sauntered up on your legs unsteady, holding onto a pillar. "You too Lyla. I've got this."

"Where's your cell?" she asked, clearly not convinced by your words. You debated lying but she knew how far your white lies went. Not one of them went past her, no matter how hard you tried.

"About twenty-five rows of stairs upwards?"

"You've got it my ass. That's where mine is too."

She walked back to the table, packing some more food and fruits in a cloth for later, wrapping the edges tight into a small bundle. Coming right back, she hauled your arm over her shoulders.

"See you later, guys. Enjoy."

"Bye ladies," you smiled as best as you could, saluting them over Lyla's shoulder.

"Thank you Lyla! Take care," they all said in unison.

Barely, but somehow, you managed to climb all those flights of stairs. With Lyla's help and countless curses dropped here and there when the knife that was still in your leg moved in the slightest. Lyla advised against pulling it out, letting it feel numb rather than hurt.

The further you got from the bottom of the tunnel, the more looks you threw behind. You've had enough of heights to last you a lifetime. A fall from this far up would have your body shatter into pieces like a mug falling on the floor. Not something you were eager to try out.

"Stop looking down there or I'll drop you," said Lyla with a low grunt. She moved to grab you better, trying to take most of the weight off your wounded leg, almost losing the hold of the food package in the process.

"Sorry. This is one long tunnel. How deep in the ground are we?"

"I don't know and I don't wish to know."

Her tone told you she was pissed. Way more than the usual amount.

"Are you mad at me?"

She stopped walking, glancing at you briefly. "You're the smartest person I know." You were about to thank her for the surprising compliment when she continued. "But sometimes, you're the biggest idiot I've ever met."

Your mouth fell closed.

"I didn't mean to start a fight. And I mean, she asked for it."

"She does ask for it on the regular, but that doesn't mean you go and give it to her. Ignoring is a thing, you know."

"Oh, come on. You can't tell me that wasn't a highly requested punch session by the way you were all cheering me on."

She sighed. You had a point.

"Aim for her tongue next time."

Hopping along the long corridor, you finally reached your cell. The door was left open for you. Not for escaping but for containing. The chains were gone however, for now, but they might be back soon.

"Is your cell really up here?" you asked, suspicious if she was telling the truth.

"Right next to you," she pointed to your right.

Your brows drew together in confusion. "Why did I not hear you while I was here?"

"I was probably downstairs fighting. Those take a while."

Lyla helped you sit down against the wall, then moved to place the food pack somewhere that wasn't wet and dirty.

"Can you," you gestured to the knife poking out of your upper thigh.

"I think it decorates pretty well. Matches the dress...," she paused, tilting her head to the side, "or what's left of it."

You looked her dead in the eyes.

"Can you just fucking pull it out?"

"Yep."

She wrapped her hand around it and in one swift pull the knife was out. You caught a hold of the velvet around your arm, ripping the sleeve from the seams and wrapped it around as soon as the blood started seeping out. Lyla slumped against the metal bars next to you, watching you patch yourself up.

"That was fun," she said, a hint of a smile on her face. Despite her scolding, she did enjoy the fight back there. Your enjoyment of the quarrel was gone by now.

"If that's your definition of fun," you huffed, tying the material tighter around your thigh, "then you're not right in the head."

"That makes two of us sweetie." Your hands stopped, eyes ogling her for the meaning of her words. "Heard you've been rolling around in bed with the very crime lord of Shanghai."

When, where and from who does one find out such news?

Considerably shocked, you decided to deny all allegations upon further evidence.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"News travels fast in this shithole. People talked of sightings of him alongside a really conniving, skilled Japanese assassin, that's been assisting him on his recent missions."

Evidence proven.

"Did they really call me conniving and skilled?"

"I knew it," she gasped loudly. "They didn't say that. I just happened to hear of a poster your face was drawn on. The descriptions varied but I knew it had to be you."

"How?"

"Oh, I don't know," she clapped her hands together. "Wild hair, wears mostly Western clothing, wields two golden pistols engraved with roses. Want me to say more?"

If Lyla could tell it was you from mere hearsay, you've been in the visor of the Triads for longer than you thought you were hidden well. Unfathomable to think that news travelled down in this cavern that was practically nowhere, but not to yours or Enishi's ears.

"Now tell me. What's going on between you two?"

"I'm not rolling around. We just..." you paused, at a loss for words. You tried looking for at least one word that described the relationship between you and Enishi but came up blank in the mess of every other cursed thing you wanted to call it.

"You just..." Lyla pressed on, a knowing look already on her face. But she waited for you to spell it out.

Good to know she still hasn't lost that nosiness and love for humiliation.

"We just live together. I'm his weapons person. We fight together." Your gaze fell back on your leg, fingers moving to undo the knot of your bandage and wrap it once more, trying to evade the obvious. "That's about it."

"And they were housemates," she concluded.

You shook your head with a laugh. "Trust me, there's nothing nice about living with him under the same roof."

That was the wrong lie to utter.

There were nice things about living together with Enishi under the same roof. The fact that he offered you your own room, giving you privacy and a space away from mafia things unless you wanted to be a part of it. The fact that you had a kitchen all to yourself, available at all times, night and day, as well as access to other amenities. He also trained you and taught you how to wield a sword properly. He made you tea sometimes and had deep talks about life with you in the middle of the night when nightmares kept you awake.

So, in all truth, there were more nice things outweighing the bad ones when it came to sharing a roof with him.

A small smile rose on your lips, much like a flower opening her petals after the rain to welcome the warmth of sunrays. Upon seeing it Lyla just couldn't leave it alone.

"It feels like there's something you're not telling me," she pried in like a cat looking for treats, scratching your leg until you gave them to her.

You drew in a breath. "It's complicated."

"If men weren't complicated, the world would be such a nice place."

There was immense truth in that.

"What about you? Still playing the queen of hearts or did some nice chap tame you yet?"

"Oh, no, no. I'm too wild to be tamed by a pair of balls and a dick."

"Last time I checked, you loved a pair of balls and a dick at night."

"I still do. But there's nothing you can do about it when you're down in a dungeon," she spoke, looking away through the metal bars with a sadness in her eyes that a pang of it rang through your own heart.

"Although, there is a guard here that I managed to get under with my charms. He supplies us with clothes and extra food, even outside world news sometimes. That's how I found out about you and that guy."

"Putting those skills to good use, I see."

"Oh, I didn't get into his pants yet."

That is news. Lyla was never one to wait too long before calling it like it is and having a good lay. If anything, it was her who dictated how a catch would go and not the other way around. But then again, who would sleep with someone down in this humid, smelly cave?

"How long has it been?"

"Way too long. My lady parts are riveting every time I see him and what's worse," she leaned in to whisper as if she was afraid of a higher power or the very guard she had the hots for listening in to the conversation. "He's not even my type. It must be the worst thing about being stuck here."

That begged the question...

"How long have you been down here?"

"A while," she sighed, settling in next to you. "They took me on a mission about two years ago. I was out doing the rounds for this man working in the arms trade. I was just supposed to guard and check a shipment but it was a set up. I was too blind to notice since I walked into it alone and without cover."

"Why did you go alone?"

"Because he specified it was a one person job. And he told me he was going to pay me a quarter of what he got for them. From what he was saying, it was a big shipment from overseas. It sounded like good money since no one was hiring assassins at the time."

She's been down here for two years. It's been two years since you haven't heard from her. Two years that she spent here in this pit of vipers by herself without a way to get out.

If I knew she disappeared, if I knew what happened...

But there was no way of knowing. You left and cut all ties with everyone you knew, including her, not just for yours but her safety as well. And look where that landed you both - right in the hands of the Triads for god knows what plans they had with you beside their exclusive fight club.

Leaving did more worse than good. I could've been there for her. I should've been there for her.

"I'm sorry," you said, head diving into the ground. It seemed like sorry was the only thing you could say, regret seeping through your bones like it was right at home ever since you've woken up in this dungeon.

She shook her head with a small smile on her rosy lips. "It's okay. I'm more sorry they managed to get you in here since you're not exactly an easy person to catch. What happened?"

With a grunt, you leaned behind on the stone wall to sit up in a better position that didn't hurt your middle upon simply breathing. Thinking of a place to start, since you had a duty to catch her up on everything that's happened since you've last seen each other, you struggled to pick just one thing. There was a whole amalgam of things that happened leading up to last night. Recalling one or the other would send the average human being into brain damage.

"It's a long story."

"As you can see, we have all the time in the world."

Focusing on the night before, you started with the whole mission, its objective, that was a complete fail, and how it ended with a giant fireball being thrown at you in the middle of the road. You then continued with the whole reason why you left your life behind, your search for your parents, meeting Enishi on a not so random encounter, stumbling over Cho in the midst of it all. You told her all of it.

When you got to the reunion with the blond, she stopped you. She was well acquainted with his existence - well, his existence pre-forgiveness and the redeeming talking sessions you've had in the past week. The Cho she knew was the rugged version of the man you knew now. Not that far behind this matured, upgraded version of him, but closer to the one that left you hanging in a gun warehouse to fend for yourself against a whole mafia.

"Hold on," she stopped you, blinking rapidly. "Cho Sawagejo?! The fucker that left you for money and a shiny sword job?"

You nodded lightly.

"Please tell me you held him at gun point and made him apologize with tears in his eyes."

Letting out a nervous laugh, you looked away trying to avert your eyes from the grenade next to you that was a word away from being armed and thrown out.

"About that.."

She knew that look. It was the look you had when you were too kind to people and just forgave whatever fucker did you wrong, no matter how wrong or twisted the consequences of their actions backfired on you instead of their sorry ass.

"Miyu... No. No, no, no, no. Please tell me you didn't."

"I'm not sure what you're asking."

"You know damn well what I'm asking. You welcomed him back with open arms after that shit? What the hell?! If you weren't injured right now, I myself would give you a beating."

Instead of a smack you knew was headed your way, she flicked a green grape at you, hitting you right between the eyes. If that had been one of her knives it would've hurt more. Thankfully, it wasn't.

"He's different now," you tried to convince her, dusting the grape off to pop it in your mouth. "Still has that potty mouth of his, but he's been repenting on his wrongs and he kinda did right by them."

"What if that's what he wants you to believe?"

"He wouldn't," you shook your head. "If he did, he wouldn't have made countless amends with me, Lyla. If you met him now, you'd see that too."

"If I met him, I'd break his legs and carve out his balls with his own swords and hang them on the hilts like tassels," she said, completely determined on doing it if she felt like it. You imagined that happening and cracked a smile.

"And your prince? How did he react to all this?"

You blew a huffed breath, trying to release some of the pressure in your tense shoulders. Upon revisiting the past few days after Cho's arrival, you got a whole migraine. Way too much happened, but amongst everything, the insane display of 'I'm a man and I came to claim what's mine' between the two ambulant testosterone, war-waging beings was sticking out the most.

"God, it was like watching the fucking war for the jungle in front of your very own eyes," you pointed two fingers to your eyes to emphasize the point.

"They were at each other's throats every minute of the day. That only filled up the mansion with the kind of tension you genuinely don't need to be around. Kitchen, garden, even my room!" you huffed throwing your hands up in annoyance. "I wanted to dig a hole in the ground and crawl out of it only when they got bored of playing useless alpha male games with each other, keeping me as leverage in the middle."

"Mhm. One question."

You nodded at her to shoot it out.

"Which one did you fuck?"

"LYLA!" you screeched, leaning over to smack her arm. Her eyebrows only raised further, demanding an answer.

"None of them," you lied, but she caught up on it before you even registered the denial slipping past your lips.

"You did bone one of them! I can see it all over your face. Oh god," she gasped. "Was it gray haired dude? A wanted mafia lord?! Way to go, sister," she smacked your arm excitedly. "Now that I think about it, you did always have a thing for older guys."

"We're the same age," you pushed her hand away with a huff. "I am never talking about my life with you ever again."

"Was it good? Is it big?"

"Is what big?" you blinked up at her confused.

Putting up her palms parallel to each other, she grinned devilishly then started widening the gap between them, looking between the imaginary air pocket between her wiggling fingers and your flustered face as you figured out just what she was asking.

"Tell me when to stop," she pressed as she kept widening the gap to an insane length that looked almost inhumane to even perceive. How does that even fit inside -

"LYLA! OH GOD. He's big okay. He's alright," you hissed, running a hand down your face in embarrassment.

Knowing him, he was probably panicking right about now or gutting Cho for looking at him wrong, and I'm here talking about his-

Dear lord, I have sinned.

"How big? Come on humor me."

The current size she was left on was... close enough. But she didn't need to know that, so you slapped her hands away.

"Filling. That's all I'm going to say."

She leaned back with a satisfied smile. "That's good enough for me."

"What are you even going to do with that information?"

"That's for me to know only."

Suspicious... But it's Lyla. If there's nothing dirty coming out of her mouth every five minutes something must be really wrong. Then again, you missed this kind of girl talk and most of all, you missed her. Overtaken by another wave of sadness, you beckoned her over for another hug.

"Come here," you opened your arms. "I missed this so much."

She smiled and scooched closer, falling into your arms extremely careful not to rattle your new injuries. Your hands wrapped around her, just as careful not to press on any of hers.

"I missed you too, fiery rose," she sighed in your shoulder. "In a fucked up way, I'm really glad you're here and alive. And getting criminal dick-"

"Shut up," you laughed and smacked her shoulder.

"He must be really good in bed if you're keeping quiet about it."

"I kinda wish she stabbed me in the ear so I wouldn't have to hear any of this."

"You'd still have one I'd talk away endlessly about dick," she giggled.

She leaned into your ear and proceeded to annoyingly continue to catalogue all types and sizes she's been through, hoping you would cave in and tell her more if she got you flustered enough. But you zipped it up with a secretive smile. That was only for you to know.

By nightfall, a handful of Enishi's men armed themselves with blades from head to toe and took off marching over to the Daos territory on the outskirts of Shanghai.

Enishi stopped his small task force in the forest overlooking the path in front of the casino, regrouping in the shadows. While they hopped off their transport and checked all their weapons, he stalked forward, raven eyes surveying the scene. There were guards all around, from the front walkway to the sides, each carrying long swords. Revolvers hung in the belts of some, attached loosely next to sets of knives.

Seems like they expect company, he thought. The last time he was there, they had way less security around. Now the big guys were spurn up in front of the door, towering over it, while the rest had their own version of blackjack going on the side of the doors on top of barrels of rum. They slapped cards down as if they were playing inside the crystal-ticked casino walls with the rest of the high society they were supposed to guard.

Walking back to his men, he beckoned them closer for one last callout before going in to ruin the party. Cho had one last check over his blades then sheathed his katanas and made his way next to him.

"What's the plan?" asked the blond.

Enishi just glanced at him with a serious jaw tilt. The kind that meant controlled disaster was on its way. Though he was surprised to see the seriousness morph into a raving grin upon the words leaving Enishi's mouth.

"Was thinking of leaving plans aside tonight."

That was a first. He always carried plans at the ready in all forms, having a side save for every failed one, but all of a sudden they were all extinct from his calendar. He didn't even bother planning ahead this time, knowing all he had to do was get inside and have a heart to heart with the chief of the Daos.

"I like that," smirked Cho, looking forward to having some fun tonight. His katanas, though borrowed, liked seeing slashed skin rather than their metallic casing.

"There's no plan, but you don't kill anyone until I give the okay."

There might have been no plans in store, but they had to do this the right way or shit could go sideways tonight too. And he didn't want it to. Cho sulked, dropping the hilts of his swords back down till the metal tsubas clicked against their hold.

"That's not fun."

"I'm not looking for a war," said Enishi, hoisting his sword on his back. "Unless they give me a reason to start one."

A war was not in his cards. But if they liked to play with fire he was going to torch them good, have them think twice about where their loyalty stood at when it came to taking one of his on his territory. All he needed was a wrong move and the Dao lineage would cease existence for good tonight, right in this hedonist place crawling with liars and traitors. A tempting gamble to take.

With a swift nod, his pack of mercenaries took to the sides of the building. Moving stealthily, they took the guards by surprise, knocking them out before they could call out to the ones on the front. It didn't take long for the sides and the back to be secured, each squadron sending a glint of their blade in signal that the perimeter was clear. All sides besides the entrance.

Walking out of the shadows with Cho at his side, they marched all the way to the front doors. Two of the four muscular brutes guarding the tall, slick black doors, stepped out to block the path with a cross of their blades.

"You are forbidden access," sneered one of them, looking down at Enishi.

"I'm here to talk to your boss. We've got some unfinished business."

The guard leaned down, his sneering face falling in front of Enishi's with a scowl.

"Forbidden." He spat each syllable as if it would make him look of much higher authority.

Talking was a lost cause from the get-go. Enishi sent him a smirk before his fist connected with his face, shoving the giant to the ground. The thug sauntered back on his legs and got a hold of Enishi's neck hauling him against the door, punching his abdomen multiple times, the next fist diving harder than the previous.

Cho took on the other one with a clash of his katanas, slashing his chest open then his back, getting rid of him right away. The other two came at the blond, swiveling around to corner him. They sent their blades on par with his arms lifting the katanas upwards to catch them both. They both pressed down on his swords, his muscles straining under their combined strength. His right side throbbed with new hot pain, shaking the hold on his attack katana.

On the other side, Enishi grappled with the troll that was double his size. He grabbed a hold of the his face and thrust his head right into his, shocking him a enough to a punch of his own, cracking his nose open. He struck and struck, until his face turned to a bloody mess, but even then the brute continued sneering at him. He smiled baring his giant teeth before he smacked Enishi right back in the wall beside the door.

Cho couldn't hold the pressure any longer. At once, he thrusted his swords upwards shoving both giants off of him. Turning the hilt of his attack katana in his right, he shoved it in the torso of the one closest, using the recoil to send the blade through his comrade. The katana embedded in that bulky torso like it cut through a hunk of meat, blood leaking beside the edges to land on the ground with loud splotches.

Smirking in triumph, thinking that would end at least one of his opponents, he gasped in shock. The thug stood his ground catching a hold of the blade margin and tugged Cho forwards while he pulled on the blade backwards trying to get it out. The other threw his sword at him from behind falling right on his defense katana, getting him stuck between the two. His defence blade was completely useless without the balance of his attack partner in his other hand.

"Fuck this."

With a low sweep he kicked the legs from under the giant on his right and as he fell he drew his sword out and slashed open a big gash across his chest. Sparring the other one, he sent double cuts that sliced open the skin above his thighs, then defended using the pair of swords together. The thug got tired and with the first opening he saw he slashed both katanas in opposite ways across chest, bringing them back to slither parallel through his middle once more. Breathing heavily, he fixed up his bad shoulder with a roll, checking the two were eliminated for good.

Enishi had enough of his own dance partner. He drew out his hands going for a chokehold around the brute's long neck, squeezing harder than it was meant for a quick knock out. At this point he wanted him dead and gone, no matter the way he went about it.

The brute laced on his arms, trying to ply them off the trunk of his neck but before he could, Enishi moved behind him and delivered the final blow right to the back of his head then twisted his neck, falling to the floor with him.

Cho ambled his way to Enishi who was heaving breaths like he chased the wilderness in the forest for a hunt session.

"Rusty much?" joked Cho.

"I said no killing," deadpanned Enishi, looking over at the bloody mess behind him.

"That one looks pretty dead to me," said Cho, pointing at the grizzly Enishi dueled with.

Ignoring him, he marched up throwing the doors open. He walked the long corridor coming to the small staircase only to be faced with a full house. All tables were occupied and armed. If he had to take a guess, most of the clan was present in the casino tonight. Suddenly, the purging of the Daos didn't seem like such a bad idea at the moment.

"Swords out," he roared to the troops behind.

The blond clocked him with a raised eyebrow. "You think?"

"Just shut up and fight. Don't get killed."

All hell broke loose.

The men sent their women to the back hallways then broke out their weapons to take over. Enishi led his men right into the fire, unsheathing his wato to wade through the suited bodies trying to stop him. They all failed miserably as he advanced, sending slash after slash before they could even lift their guns and point them at him, cutting through them three at a time. What went past him fell in the care of his mercenaries, tearing through the masses with the intent of not letting anyone escape.

Cho followed Enishi, moving towards the heavily weaponized side. He spotted them loading up to shoot. Quick on his feet, he kicked the guns out of the hands closest to him, tearing his blade through the rest of the barrels pointed at him, slicing through the cheap metal casing. Whoever supplied their weapons did a shit job at it.

Enishi dove through the bladed side, disarming as many as they fell in front of him, slashing the rest to shreds. Silver bullets still flew his way, bouncing off the edge of his steel with a single flick of his wrist. He moved side to side, avoiding all shots, taking down his opponents faster than they saw him coming.

The gunfire rang deafeningly over the clang of swords, drowning the angry shouts and the grunting cries of pain from both sides. The pungent scent of opium rapidly altered with the burning stench of gunpowder and the spoor of blood already in the air. Despite Enishi's wishes for a somewhat peaceful fight, the casino turned into a raging battlefield quicker than he intended it to. As much as he tried to avoid it, war was upon them. He could still control the outcome of this battle. If it didn't escalate to a point of no return.

With both of them on the attack, they ended up cornered in front of the crystal bar. Cho landed back to back with Enishi, defending each other's blind spots.

"Having Miyu here would've been so helpful," grunted the blond as his swords were dug into him by two men, each paring down their jian over his defence cross.

"She's the reason we're here in the first place," gritted Enishi, shoving off his own assailants with his wato, sending them tumbling into the bar.

"We need to get through to the hallways. If he runs off before we get to him," he grunted, curling his blade to cut up another running thug, throwing his sword away before crashing a bottle over his head, "we will never find her."

Enishi's men managed to overpower the rest of the Daos. Leaving them to take care of the main salon, he made his way through the hallway with the blond at his back, fighting the ones pooling in the front and the others coming from the back.

He buried through the force coming from up ahead. Jumping with a kick to the right to shove one into the wall, he used the boost to throw his leg up and ram it down over the head of the next one. Landing back on the ground, he barely caught the sword coming his way, wato clinging dangerously low on its hilt. That blade wasn't just any blade. A quick glance at the amber peeking under the stripes of the hilt and he recognized it. It was an odachi made from olden Japanese steel, its blade almost a meter long, curving wide like the arch of a bow.

Three more thugs coming down had them in their amateur hold. All of their handles were amber and black as onyx, the blades as sharp as if they just rolled out of the factory. That was steel made on special order, two pairs in amber, two pairs in black. Steel he just so happened to hold in his own two hands a few months ago, right before his weapons warehouse got broken into. They weren't marked with a seal yet, but he gave the measurements and details to the craftsmen himself.

Interesting, he thought, lifting a quizzical eyebrow. I wonder where they got those.

The swords came barreling down on him at the same time. They wanted to overpower him in that compact corridor. They wielded the swords messily, treating them like the shorter range blades they used on a day to day basis. That gave him an advantage. He whizzed through them, using their slow speed to smack the swords out of their hands. Soon enough they were all disarmed, inching for their pocket knives. Enishi kicked some away, spinning in reverse with a flip that sent the small knives right in the walls. The rest flew at once, aimed at his chest. One swing of his sword had the edge catch their tips with a screech, directing them into the wall.

Cho cleared the back and came to Enishi's side. Those four were the last one standing between them and their leader, the rest of the hallway cleared both ways.

Sharing a quick look, they got hold of a strategy to finish this quickly. Enishi went high, Cho went low. They wasted enough time as it is. Any more of it would have the chief running away. Two punches ricocheting from one guy into the other to knock them out cold and four slashes later, they got through those four too.

They ran all the way to the back until the room with the golden seven came into view. Without hesitation, Enishi stepped back and ran, kicking down the door in full force ripping it off its hinges, stepping over it once it crashed with a thud on the other side. Thankfully, the man he was looking for was still there. Standing right at the top of the poker table presumably in the middle of a game, his nose was stuffed with tissues, the imprint of a familiar heel left across the bridge of his nose. The look on his face gave him away - he was completely oblivious to the chaos happening in his casino.

At the sight of the two, he stood up throwing his cards on the table. One move of his fingers and the rest of his men in the room drew out in a line surrounding the table to protect him.

"Came to die again?"

"Where is she?"

"Ah, looking for that bitch that broke my nose? Unfortunately, you won't find her here."

Something moved in his peripheral. A quick look had him find Liu right in the corner about to sneak out behind them while Enishi was busy with the Daos. Cho stepped up to him, trapping him between the cross of his blades. The rest of the men around the room pulled out theirs, though not even those belonged to them. What some of them gripped in their hands were the long hilt nagamaki swords, these too part of Enishi's custom missing weaponry.

"Nice blades you got there," he spoke, voice laced with amusement at the shit he was seeing. "Where'd you get them?"

"Downtown through a really great trades person," he smiled widely, proud with himself as if he was the one who made and bought them. "If you wanted to ask me about weapons you could have done so without breaking down my door."

"Those weapons belong to me. They were stolen from my warehouse."

At his words, the chief of the Daos paled over like the cloth laying on the side of the table, stained with drops of his blood.

"Let me take a wild guess," spoke Enishi, lowering his sword. "The work of the Snake, isn't it?"

He gulped confirming Enishi's suspicions.

"How much did you pay him for all those custom made weapons? Ten? Fifteen?"

His head inclined to the side. He paid more.

"Double then? Thirty?"

"Twenty."

He laughed in his face. "Twenty for a shipment worth fifty million in raw cash. And I thought he would've used his head and charged more to get some profit. I guess he's not that great at trades as you thought he was."

That last remark was all it took for him to explode. Exactly what Enishi wanted. Stroke the lion then throw him the bone instead of the meat and see how desperate he becomes that he'll lick the very bone like the meat was still on it.

"Kill them," he rasped out to his men.

Looking back at Cho, he nodded to him to keep on Liu while he dealt with the seven leftover men in his way. He took on the two nagamaki wielders first, noticing their hold on the handles were wrong from the very start. Kicking their wrists one by one, they let go of the blades, staggering backwards. The others came at him with the odachi swords. Thrusting his wato, he caught all of them on the edge. Holding them off, he threw his leg upwards rotating it to the side to hit the weaponless men to the side. Moving his sword in a circle above his head, he gathered all the odachi, shifting the wato to press down on them. One kick above the five hilts was all it took to knock them over, getting the blades out of their useless hands.

Throwing the blades to the floor with his own, he let them come at him giving them a fair chance at a fight. They circled him, taking turns. The first one came at him with a sharp fist. He let him run into his friend on the opposite side, knocking him out cold. Returning with more anger, Enishi let him try two more punches before he slid the legs from under him watching as he hit a chair, cracking his skull open.

Three more left.

Another one came at him with one of the discarded odachi. He tried balancing the long range blade, treating it like a mere sword. He had difficulty moving it for a slash because of the smaller handle, letting the blade fall downwards. Enishi waded the messy slashes, getting closer until he caught a hold of his wrist. A hit to his throat had him choke, another one to his chest took his air away, the last one to his stomach had him fall to his knees.

The other two took off running towards the door. Cho threw one of his katanas swiftly, hitting one of them right in the back. The rest of Enishi's crew wound up by the door stopping the other one in his tracks.

Picking up his sword from the floor, he walked up to the leader of the Daos, his fallen kin that have almost gone extinct.

"Why are you really here?" he asked, standing tall in the face of the Shanghai mafia like his own would raise from the dead and come to his aid. "My men will end all of you-"

"Your men are dead. As for why I'm here," he smirked wickedly his way, "I came to finish what my girl started last night."

"You would go so far for a whore like her? Shanghai is crawling with them."

Those words were all it took for him to close the distance to him, booting his blade away to the side to sink his own sword in that hunk of an arm, silver edge curving deep enough to draw spurts of blood out of him. Hitting the back of his knees, the brute crumbled to the floor together with his superiority complex. His left hand latched onto his shirt, making sure his ears were open to hear him loud and clear.

"I would tear every inch of flesh off your body if it brought me even one soul closer to finding her."

The hold on his blade was steady, way more stable than the anger coursing through his veins. But his wato sat sheathed way too long, sheltered away from its lust for chaos, deeply yearning to taste blood and cut flesh down to the bone the way it was made to.

He had the leader of a bigger mafia kneeling right at his feet. There was a time when the pride and power that came with this sight was all he ever wanted to witness, but right now it didn't matter at all to him. Tonight, he wasn't out for blood or power or to retrieve his stolen weapons or to seek revenge. Tonight, he was out for you.

"Where is she?"

The chief of the Daos just smirked in his face, disregarding the blade slashing down his arm, severing through ligaments more and more by the minute. Enishi's wrist moved slow, digging it deeper until he trembled the way his pulse pounded through him.

"You don't know why they took her do you?"

Enishi's body stopped moving altogether. Searching those evil empty black eyes proved useless, finding only amusement at his torment in them. He let his guard down, letting the brute continue with his taunting.

"They not only took her for who she is, but more for what she is."

"What is that supposed to mean? What is she to them? Why do they want her so badly?"

Each question had him roar deeper in his face. The kneeling brute simply laughed, drops of blood flying from his lips to paint the green of the poker table in crimson stains. The rising tide of rage inside of him was reaching dangerous heights, moments away from falling over the world to swallow it whole. He needed solid information, not words in the wind.

The sword coiled back against Enishi's hold, craving for much more than his owner could give it, denying its unquenchable thirst for shriveling him to pieces with one blow. His fingers twitched on the handle, wanting nothing more than to slash it across his chest and watch the life drain from him. But reason knocked into him sober. He needed this fucker alive.

"Answer me!"

"She's something that was supposed to die a long time ago. A whisper of an existence that could end us and what we stand for. You should thank me for getting rid of her instead of going to battle with my clan."

"Most of your clan is gone," he thundered, his voice drawing low, seething with disgust for his kind. "I'm nothing like you or the other rats crawling around my city thinking you own it."

"We're more alike than you think."

"If you thought for one moment that I stood with you and this world of criminals, you're wrong."

"Is that what you told her too? She still joined you despite knowing that she's always been against it since this world is what took her parents away? The very thing that destroyed her life and had her wander the streets as no one's child?"

His jaw crunched tight, teeth grinding over each other with rage that got harder to contain inside.

"Even if she doesn't know it yet, she will be what kills us. They took her to prevent that from ever happening. To make her bend to their will before she gets out of control again."

Nothing this man was saying made any sense. You were just a skilled assassin that sometimes went rampage when extremely pissed off. But even so, under all his empty words, Enishi felt there was more this man wasn't letting on. Despite all the questions he came here with, there was only one he could bring himself to ask.

"Where is she?"

"You're asking the wrong mafia," he grinned. Enishi's hold loosened in the slightest. His eyes brimmed with mischief, gleeful that he knew more than the man cutting through his arm, unable to finish the job he started.

"You think we were the only ones part of the charade at the club last night?"

There were more parts involved. Enishi knew that. But none of his men got back with new intel to help identify them.

"All I need is a name," he bargained. "Then you're free to rot in a cell under the commander in chief for the rest of your miserable life."

That seemed like a good enough bargain to take. A name for a life of isolation. Death was an option too. The easy way out. A luxury he wasn't keen on offering so soon. Too bad the man kneeling at his feet took his own fate in his hands.

"What good if my whole mafia is gone?"

Before he could ask or demand anything else, the man pulled a hidden knife and plunged it deep within his chest. Enishi's eyes went wide with surprise, watching as he slid off his blade, falling backwards, choking on his last words with painful gasps.

"I hope you never find her."

Just like that, the captain of the ship died with his own crew and the rest of the words Enishi needed to hear were lost forever. He came here with questions only to leave with so many more. Questions that drowned his head up until this moment.

An eerie silence settled in the room. The smoking tray of opium in the middle of the poker table drew to a small vapor. The lights above flickered empty. The hallways of the casino were no longer packed with lively chatter and the sound of plastic coins being thrown around roulettes for bets. It was all quiet like the dark night outside.

Enishi's mind stopped running too. Wiping his wato clean, he sheathed it back in its hold, turning to his men who were awaiting further orders. He kept his eyes trained on the floor, like he lost the final battle but won the war, successfully eliminating the Daos and their leader, but losing all tracks that could lead to you. His men looked just as lost and conflicted, grateful to have some action in a while, but at what cost if they didn't find what they came looking for. Nonetheless, he delivered them tasks like it was the daily custom.

"Search the casino for our stolen weaponry. Take Liu in for questioning. Make sure there's no trace of our tracks here."

"And the women?" asked one of them. He could read the question on his face. Won't they talk?

"Let them go. Pay them if they need it to stay quiet. It doesn't matter how much, just make sure they're tended to."

The force dispersed to each their own. Picking up a chair, he set it upright feeling the need to sit down and recall his bearings back to him. Cho handed Liu to the crew and approached him wearily, sheathing his katanas back in their hold inside his coat.

"You have a weird look on your face. What's going on?"

"Something doesn't add up," he shook his head. "Why do they know so much about her?"

"You did have a spy planted in. For several years apparently," he added.

"It still doesn't explain why they know more about her and we don't. The disappearance of her family, her life as an assassin and the one outside of it. They knew about all of it, no matter how much she covered her tracks up. They watched her from a distance, giving her the impression they were nowhere near and consider her a threat for some fucked up reason." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Did anything he say ring a bell to you at all?"

"No," sighed Cho just as frustrated himself. "It sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me."

"It feels like there's a bigger puzzle we're not seeing. That this was just a piece of it that doesn't fit anywhere or we're not even looking at the right one or... I don't even know anymore."

Cho frowned at his words. He's not seen Enishi this conflicted and all over the place over anything. Not even in the past week when his loathing levels were at their highest.

"Let's hope that traitor has more to give us."

He hesitated at first, but his hand still landed on Enishi's shoulder in an encouraging pat that wasn't that well received. Enishi straightened and shot the blond a look of disgust.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyeing the hand splayed on his shoulder with imaginary knives about to be shot into each finger separately. Maybe Cho was over the fight in the woods, as if they didn't attempt to kill each other. It would take much more than some help for Enishi to return the favor of blind trust.

"Nothing," mumbled the blond, hand flying away to scratch his neck instead.

Enishi's eyes narrowed in on him trying to gauge out his intentions. Last night, they were at each other's throats and now he was being cordial and kind of supportive. Maybe it was because they were looking for you that the lines between their mutual hatred and the care they had for you were blurring together in an odd bond of sorts. Nevertheless, it creeped him out.

His eyes fell on the poker table, mind instantly running over to the memory of you sat right beside his spot, playing the chief of the Daos with just one hand. An smile broke out on his face seeing the money in the corner, reminded of the stacks of money you had him splurge, only to lose them all in your escape before you got skewered to bits and pieces.

"What's got you smiling so wide?"

"We've been here before. Me and her. About a month ago or so," he smiled slyly, recalling that day. "We came to get intel and left a mess behind us, but before that, she played them at poker."

The blond sat down in a chair with a smile, sharing something of his own. "She always had a thing for betting. It's so hard to pull her away after she sits down to call in a game. All or nothing."

He laughed at that, shaking his head. "She had me give her stacks of money to buy inside since the game was already ongoing."

"How much did you give her?"

"Two million," he chuckled. "Two million and what looked like one more half on the table. She won it all fair and square with one hand. She didn't even get to gather the money before they were on us and we had to run off."

He did remember you stacking some spare bills in your corset before he tugged on your hand to run away. The very corset he helped you lace before crashing the party, only to then rip it off of you that same night.

"That was the same night we...," he paused, debating on whether he should even say anything.

"The same night you...," pushed the blond, eager to find out what happened.

Too bad he would have to stay curious. Enishi's eyes dove at him with a teasing wink, amused at his childish scoff.

As if I'll tell you of all people what happened that night, he smirked to himself. That's for us to know.

"Have a look around, see if you find anything of help to us," he said, patting his shoulder in a similar manner. He deserved it since he had his back tonight.

Before he turned back to searching, he picked up a light blue chip from the table. The highest value you could play in poker. Holding it to the small light in the room, he smiled softly at it, then pocketed it safely on the inside of his kimono.

Ready to turn and leave, it was only by chance that his eyes landed on the open hand the fallen leader never got to play. Next to a red ten of hearts, a jack, a king and an ace, sat the queen card - your winning hand that night. Not thinking too much about it, he gathered the hand, picking up those five cards, storing them safely next to the blue chip.

Even a pigsty has more amenities.

The cell was a nice place. If you looked past the small pot left in the corner for a makeshift medieval toilet, the stench of rotten things you hoped was just leftover food and the occasional rodent visitors that resembled anything but how they actually looked like above, on the streets of Shanghai. You had your fair share of those beasts hopping from place to place in hiding but these ones liked to hiss and stare you down as if you intruded their very own sanctuary or something.

It's been days.

How could one be able to tell that the day turned into night in that underground stone cage with no sliver of light visible?

When the gust of wind blowing through got considerably colder and the torches went out completely om both sides of the walls.

Some nights, you sat and waited for the torches to be lit up again. Truthful to your assumptions, a guard came down early, from the looks of his lightly armed body, tasked with lighting up the long row of torches from top to bottom. The last lucury of the upper world they gave you. Though you wondered if the firestone down in the pit, how the girls called that horrors cave, burned at all times like an undying flame of hope, or if that one too was extinguished when no one was there and there was no hope to look for at all.

After your brawl with the violinist, you were welcomed down in the pit like you won the war against evil. As it turns out, her name is Li Wen, a walking-talking specimen of envy personified. One that was extremely hated by all the inhabitants of the pit. Her temperament at the club was dodgy, but her personality is just as such. She is just like she plays her violin, insatiable and almost never satisfied, always on the look for more. Whether she gets it or takes it herself.

What she said the night before as she tried to use your body as a darts mat was true - she did have the power to whizz between the upper world and the pit at her own personal will, or when the Snake sent her to check on his esteemed guests. That sole advantage itself turned her into an enemy, since she mostly came around to draw her claws at the girls or execute his orders.

In her eyes she was just like him, a fighter for a greater cause, thing that gave her no semblance of respect towards them. But not even the smallest bone in her body had the power and resilience these women had in their soul.

She wasn't the one going to war with death almost nightly in order to earn her right to keep on living and a meal to survive off, wondering when the next one will come. She is part of the pit. But she will never be part of the family that's made a unique promise of protection to each other.

That is the biggest ick that she will never be able to swallow down her thick reptile throat. Not as long as she sides with the wrong people.

That same night, you sat with the girls and told them your own story. Bottom to top, past to present. Everything.

For the first time in your life, you felt like someone actually listened. For the first time, someone was able to even relate to your struggle, understanding the length and impact of the things you've gone through. For the first time, someone was able to see the scars that refused to heal, scabbing over on the surface but still hurting deep within a place that would never be able to forget the pain, the loss, the shattered hope. Because they were the same unhealed scars that all these girls shared in one way or another, having been through hell and beyond.

Connecting through a bond was one thing. A bond could be just that, a one-off unique connection. But this was so much more because connecting through pain was another thing altogether.

As you talked and shared parts of your souls with each other in stories, things you liked, things you hated; honesty and trust wound up tied together in that blazing pit. Those two things, so small but so significant, were the only things that helped them endure the fear and pain of this infinite inferno, and the only things still standing real and true to their nature within the wild hellfire scorching the world.

That was what Li Wen was missing. She was free to share her story and join the family at one point until she alienated herself from the collective acceptance. This sisterhood will be something she will always long for, something she will never have the guts to sacrifice herself for.

After your heart to heart with everyone, their daily training session started. They spread out to their own corners individually or searched for sparing partners. Still healing from your injuries, you decided to keep to the side just watching. As your eyes walked around, you noticed that a lot of them still used their weapon instincts, sending their fists like they wielded their arms.

Yana was probably the best at breaking free from the hold of her weapon. She used aerial moves and kicks with her spear which made it easier to adapt to a life without one. Though she still parried the ground for balance and often lost her fighting stance.

Lyla knew some martial arts. Where she would normally train her arms to extend, open her palms to aim her knives and strike, she now sent rigid hits with the heel of her palm using that built up strength in her forearms. Kick-wise, she struggled with the direction she wanted her foot to land in, which should hopefully be through the enemy's throat and not beside it.

Marissa struggled. You could tell she leaned on her halberd for support a lot because her current hits went lucky-go wide instead of target-focused. There was immense weight packed in her punch but no technique. Her sparring partner was one of the stone columns but even so, she had much strength but couldn't send it through. You knew she had the power to.

Stretching up and out of your humble seat on the side, you walked up to her. Sensing you approach, she turned around. Her height was questionable while she was sat down at the table but being this close to her had you stumble a step backwards.

"What's up, shorty?"

"Uhm," you paused, looking for a way to say it without getting smashed or something.

Come on, Miyu. It's just Marissa. Your big, friendly giant that could mince and marinate you if she had her halberd on hand. Though she might just do well enough smashing your head between her palms.

"Can I see your fist?"

"My fist?" she asked confused. You nodded. Unsure but trusting, she held out her fist to you. Even her hand was bigger than yours.

Taking a hold of it, you moved her fingers in a better position, locking them in with her thumb, directing her to the stone column she was bruising her knuckles in.

"Don't clench your fingers. Swing with the muscles in your shoulder, not the ones in your forearms and angle your body parallel to your opponent." You nodded to the pillar. "Try it now."

Her eyebrow lifted, lacking assurance at your directions, but she did get in the stance.

"Send it on your exhale," you added in a small voice.

Her icy eyes narrowed in on you prompting you to take another step backwards, hands held up in defence to let her do her thing. She debated it but in the end she tried it your way. Taking a long, deep breath in, she spun from the right and swung wide going right for the column on the exhale. Her fist drove into the stone with a loud crack, chipping off a quarter of the pillar to dust and rocks that fell right into the firestone behind it. The others stopped training, looking over to see what happened. Shocked, she looked her fist over on every which side only to find no bleeding creases or pink indents of damaged skin on any of her knuckles. Then her blue eyes fell on you, sparkling like dew drops on plant leaves in the early morning.

"How?"

"All you were missing was technique," you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. In return, she smiled just as big.

Moving to sit in front of her, hands held together behind your back, you motioned her to come at you.

Maybe Enishi's emotionally torturing, training techniques rubbed off on you. Or maybe you were batshit crazy since even the girls looked at you as if you've grown a head. But something just told you to do it and give her a good moving target to really test out her new set of skills.

"I can't do that," she shook her head, taking a step back refusing to attack you.

Her eyes fell on the dried blood stains littered all over your dress, stopping at the still fresh scratches on your face.

You beckoned her again. "Just trust me."

"What if I hurt you?"

"You won't."

You said that with so much confidence it surprised even you.

Marissa finally got into position and prepared for a moving punch. Her left foot pressed backwards while her right set up. With one step, she was right in front of your face, her huge fist headed for serious damage. You let her come as close as possible, just a few inches away from your face before you moved to the side, grabbing a hold of her forearm to push her forwards. She stumbled, turning to you with a guilty look on her face.

"You hesitated," you said, standing to the side.

"Because I don't want to -"

"Your enemy won't give you time to find a reason to hurt them," you argued. "You have to do it."

Softly caressing the knife won't make it not want to kill you. That was its sole purpose after all and what Enishi tried to teach you all along. Maybe you did learn something from his philosophy lessons, often coming as a package with the physical training.

"You need to strike first. No mercy. No remorse."

She sighed, tall shoulders dropping with the realization you were right. Ignoring your injured leg, you moved into a fighting stance, similar to the ones Enishi took with you.

"Now come at me for real this time."

Stop defending. Just attack.

And she did. She sent fist after fist, one more powerful than the other. Your body struggled to handle her speed but you willed it to in order to keep up and give her a real shot at it. Once you were happy with the form of her punches and she realized how well she sent them you both stopped. Holding up her fists side to side, she smiled widely at them. You simply bowed your head at her in respect.

Before you could spin back to your chair, the rest of them flocked your way asking for guidance.

"Can you help me too?" asked Mai, showing you her small fists.

Yana stomped over too, tapping your shoulder. "Can you help me with the kicks? I want to learn that reverse one you did to Li Wen's nose."

"Guys, guys, calm down! I'm no martial arts master," you waved your hands away. "I can't fight better than any of you. Not now anyway."

"But someone did teach you," said Lyla with a smirk.

Damn it.

You knew who she was referring to. There were two of them who tried busting off their asses to train you in hand to hand, close and far combat, including weaponry wielding. You failed weaponry... but you did overpower both of them in combat the last time you trained together. And that one was a no mercy match to the death you won fair and square.

These girls were experts in their individual weapons of choice. But they lacked combat technique. The kind of combat technique you ate at breakfast, lunch and dinner for the past two months and a half like it was the fucking military service trials.

If anyone could give them an extra chance at packing a deadly punch or a lethal kick and get hurt less, it was you.

"Fine," you blew a breath, whistling the stray locks of hair falling in front of your face. They cheered loudly, clapping you in the back excitedly.

"Get in a line."

A few days later, you were leading their training sessions from the sidelines, without getting involved until your ankle healed some more. Your ribs still hurt, but not enough to stop you from sparring with your hands here and there, correcting stances or acting as a moving target from time to time. Taking everything you learned from the sword master extraordinaire and placing it on different training, tailored to every girl and her fighting style, you managed to get them out of the rut.

Their forms got better than their wielding impulses, stronger than their sparing opponents, faster at laying a lethal blow if needed. Surprise after surprise came as you coached each one into changing little things that led them to big ones in such a short amount of time.

Marissa's punches became hunks of deadly power. Yana's aerials you molded following Enishi's. Lyla's flexibility went into quick attacks. All of them evolved.

On a well-deserved break, you sat around, passing mugs of water from the bucket that was brought down by the guards once a day.

"How do they announce a fight? Or who's turn it is?" you asked no one in particular. Already used to your question rounds, Yana picked it up like she was the pit's unofficial guide.

"You see the golden gong in the back?" she pointed behind you.

Your head whipped around to find a golden plate hooked up on two stands, reflecting the flickers of the fire around the pit. You've been here for days but have not taken notice of the percussion instrument at all, as if it just spawned there from nowhere. Not a lot of things to notice in a cave underground.

"Has that always been here or am I tripping? Are we sure those grapes weren't edibles?"

Laughter echoed around you in ripples of snorts and giggles. Another thing you grew to love in these past few days was making these girls laugh. An actual belly-flopping, cheeks hurting, eyes leaking laugh. Some of them haven't howled a true, joyous laugh in ages from how rusty their laughs sounded, but they welcomed your jokes nonetheless.

"It has," laughed Yana. "When they have someone ready for a fight, they come down and hit the gong. Another person has a bowl filled with our names written on thin paper strips and they just call it out."

"Is there an audience too?"

"We're allowed to sit in sometimes. The guards always sit in and place bets on the winning head."

That's disgusting. Placing bets as if they've ever been put in their shoes.

"Li Wen usually stands to the side-"

"If she's in the mood for being spat at, that is," added Marissa. "Someone always gets punched in the face and she is always right in the sputter of their blood."

You grimaced at that until you realised she deserved the bloody shower every once in a while.

"What about the lord of the house?"

"The Snake doesn't come down here."

Wait.

He abducted all of these girls for his own personal fight club only to not participate at all? Not even to sit in the audience to see his problems eradicated?

That doesn't make any sense.

"He didn't come for any of them? Any at all?"

"Nope," said Yuki, your other Japanese compatriot. She's been down there for the past seven years and could not recall at least one time he showed up. "Not one of them."

That same night, the call for a fight came through. The gong was hit, ringing deep in your ear drums, stopping you mid-training session.

This one had your name on it.

"Crimson Rose," called out the guard, looking for you in the crowd.

Of course they don't use real names in here.

You walked out from between the girls, dirty velvet rolling out behind your heeled steps. Chin help up high, arms crossed and jaw tightened to an angle that could cut, you gave him your most confident front. Deep inside, that courageous front was replaced for eating the walls trying to find an escape route out of this hellhole.

The guard walked down to you, stopping short of a few steps. He had a patch over his nose. It was the guard you head banged into a few days ago.

His eyes raked your body top to bottom, enjoyment disgustingly visible on his face at every curve he stopped at, only pausing his shameless perusal to look at your face. He must've read the fake façade you put up in your eyes, lips turning up with a devilish smirk.

"You're overdue for a welcome fight, rosy."

It's been a week since the night you disappeared. A week he wanted to throw to oblivion like that would just so happen to bring you right back. If only it was that easy to get you back.

Over the past few days, he's grown restless, much more than he used to be. Every word uttered the wrong way, any gaze focused on him for too long, the very sound of footsteps rolling down the hallways. All of these had him bust a nerve that never stopped ticking since he woke up that night in the middle of the woods and you were nowhere to be found.

Wherever he sat down, his eyes closed automatically. Tired didn't even begin to describe how he felt. But no matter how exhausted he was, he couldn't give into it at all. He would go into his room for a quick shower then return back to the office. Any accidental glances falling on his neatly made bed made him take a tempting step towards it only to turn for the door just as fast, like the very thought of sleeping in some semblance of comfort disgusted him. His body begged for overdue rest but he refused it time and time again. It wasn't the time to rest. Not until he found you or at the very least heard of your whereabouts, but so far he had nothing. No leads, no tracks to follow up on. Absolutely fucking nothing.

He's been up even at night searching for any word of you, the rest of the missing artillery, accidental sightings of your parents. It was all a never-ending circle of things to search for that never ceased from piling up on his desk or in his head, and he came to understand there was a second thing he hated the most in the world, beside people fretting over him. His office. This room held him mostly at his worst and he was sick of it. So sick he just jumped out of his seat with a long sigh, setting out on a walk.

Anywhere but here will do, he thought, pushing the doors behind him closed in hopes everything else that's been storming up his nerves for the past week would remain inside those doors if he shut them tight enough.

The sun brimmed bright down the hallway. A small breeze found her way inside through the open curtain, whistling it open like the veil on the prow of a boat. Light warmth drenched the air of midday, notes of the first blooms of camellias hanging sweet on the breeze.

December turned to January in the past week but the weather was so bright and pleasingly warm it was hard to tell the cold season was even present at all. As if winter skipped it's turn and let spring take it away just for this once. The ice still hugged the roads stubbornly in the crisp of morning and the scent of snow hung deeper in the night air, but no snow fell from the sky. Not even on a sudden hailing or with the gust of a storm.

That first fall of snow refused to come. He was sort of thankful for its delay. Not that it would hinder his plans or anything. His reason for it... was stupid really. He didn't want to catch the first snowfall without you.

He wasn't an idiot. He knew the meaning behind catching the first fall of snow with someone, especially if you had feelings for them. But above that foolish meaning, he knew how much you would have loved to see it.

That lone, brief thought of you basking in the white glow of a snowflake flurry brought his steps right in front of your room. Busy putting all his manpower in motion to find you, he was mostly cooped up in that office he dreaded so much. That and he couldn't find it in him to go inside your room and not see you there, either stitching up something or being cooped up in your bed with Koru with a soft smile on your face. Thinking of the feline, he realised that even she disappeared without a trace, somewhere in the depths of the mansion, probably looking for you.

His hand reached out for the door handle on a whim only to stop midair.

She's not in there, his mind echoed.

Squeezing his eyes shut, his hand fell flat on the wooden door, and he let out a shaky breath. Even if you weren't in there, so many things of yours were. Pushing open the double doors, he took a wary step in your room to convince himself of the emptiness in the space.

One look around and the eerie silence got drowned in a deep chuckle.

Everything was a mess. Just the way you liked it. Pieces of cut up and unrolled material were still strewn over the work station you made for yourself in the corner, some falling over the chair like you were still working on stuff. Clothes were thrown every which way on hangers falling from the sides of your wardrobe and laying in front of it on the floor. He couldn't even tell where the laundry began and where it ended.

A chilly gust of wind blew in prompting him to turn for the window. It was cracked open. It didn't pass through his mind to check it before. You probably left it open to change the stuffy air in the room until you were out on mission. Moving to close it, he noticed the wooden pane was ajar, just a crack wide enough to lay your bedding out for some fresh air.

That's when it hit him harder - this was so domestic. Laying your bedding out. Cooking in the kitchen. Even simply just walking the hallways in a worn out shirt of yours. Like you've always lived here and this was the daily custom for as long as ever.

He grabbed your bedding, dusting it off the leaves and twigs that blew in from outside before he pulled the dirty covers off, throwing them in the corner for laundry, changing them for new ones. Then he folded them neatly, patting them down, moving to place them on your bed when he paused. On top of the white sheet lay a book he hasn't seen in a long time. Placing your bedding down in a corner, he leaned over and reached for it.

Wuthering Heights? his eyes widened at the title. Wasn't this in the library?

He turned it over on the side, surprised to see loads of paper edges hanging messily, stacked inside between the pages. Your writing peaked out on the sides of a few. He debated on whether he should open it and read some of them or not. It seemed almost too personal to even be holding it as if his hands would taint it and deem it unreadable for you.

Unbeknownst to anyone, he was an avid reader. He read all of the books in his library four, if not even five times. At times to just pass the time, to do research, to learn more about people and what drove them, maybe even to catch some surprising truths about himself. But out of his whole collection, this book was the hardest read he's ever come across. And he's read heavy shit like political thrillers and war tactic books. But this one, as poetic and straightforward of a novel it was, it remained a mystery to him and no matter how many times he's read it, tried to dissect it and understand it, he never could. This book was one of the biggest enigmas he couldn't solve.

In the end, curiosity got the best of him. He sat down on the edge of your bed and opened the book, flipping through it until he landed on the page where the last paper note hung loosely, nearly slipping out. Even the writing on it looked rushed, possibly written in a haste. It was near the middle and it looked like the last annotated note in the book.

She never got to finish it.

That thought alone angered him. Then he started reading the page and his mood instantly turned from sour to amusing.

The last quote underlined was Heathcliff's, mid-rage match with Catherine. The corner of his mouth upturned at the familiarity of the scene, happening between the two of you for the entirety of the previous week. Constant back and forth, making each other try to fall for one another but failing miserably to communicate like normal human beings. Taking a step forward with you only to fall three more behind.

His eyes fell on the quote above the note that was stuck in the middle of the spread.

"I have not broken your heart- you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine."

The quote was highlighted angrily, black pencil running all around the quote like it swallowed it whole, a total contrast to the other pages his fingers skimmed across. His eyes fell on the note below it and his breath caught in his throat, pulse thudding in his ears like a drum.

I broke your heart? You broke it first. You played with me the way you wanted. You chased me down like I was an animal to be hunted. You're no better than them. The government, the Triads, Battosai. Name the devils we've been battling for so long and they're all just like you. But you're worse. Because as much as I want to hate you and wish you hell worse than the one you've been living in, for everything you did and said to me, for lying to me... I can't bring myself to do that. My heart doesn't let me. It beats for you and only you and I can't drown that annoying rhythm out of my head every time I see you. It just gets louder when you look at me with so many emotions I can't understand. When you hold my hand so gently before every mission. When you take care of me even after I push you away. When you're being you. Good or evil, selfish or caring, angering me to the world's end or catching my world when it comes crashing down. She's addicted to you wholly. To every part of you. I can't even wish for that beating to cease, even if at times I wanted it to with my whole being, because I know it would hurt you. And I can't bear seeing you in any kind of pain. That is how you broke my heart. But do you know what the funny thing is? That you're what I've been running from my entire life. You're everything I loathe the most in the world. And yet, despite all this, you're all I want at the same time. This... is how I broke mine.

A shaky breath he's been holding in since he read the very first word finally left him. All he could feel was pain. Pain unlike any other he's ever experienced, flooding his heart like a poison arrow that just about missed the most vital point but embedded deep enough to spread its venom like burning embers kindled to burn inside of his chest.

That note was something he was never meant to find. Addressed to him, through and through, but not to be discovered like this, in a book he couldn't understand. Because now, as his eyes darted over the words again and again at breakneck speed, he felt guilty. Guiltier than the weight of all the people he's ever sent to the afterlife with the edge of his blade could ever make him feel. This was a different type of guilt - the kind that made him feel like he was suffocating upon breathing just fine.

Having absorbed the words like a second skin, the note fell from his hand, falling right on the pages he found it stuck between. At once, he shut the book closed.

He's never looked at it in this way but having read what you've left for secret keepsake, what should've never ended up in his hands, he was nothing less than scared. That gut-wrenching fear that leapt at him whenever Tomoe decided to haunt him and laugh in his face at his idiocy, now unleashed at just the mere thought of you, way stronger and crippling than he's ever felt it course through him.

Feeling like he was intruding way too much, he placed the book back on your bed like simply touching it seared the skin of his palms. He checked the bedding once more and turned for the door. Then he paused.

Turning back to the scope of your room he glanced at it again. Contrary to the joke his mind played on him before he entered, you were here.

In every corner of the room where a part of you lingered like you just touched it. Not just in the room but even outside of it, as far as the rest of the mansion spread. In every tile of the kitchen where your feet padded tirelessly to cook up some new recipe you heard Wu talk about. In the hallways, floorboards creaking under your feet as you gazed at that favorite painting of yours that started becoming his favorite too. In his office, where you fell asleep more comfortably and cozily than in the warmth and comfort of your own bed. Outside in the garden, where you trained restlessly or down in the armory where you spent time studying weapons and learning more about them. Even in his room where he tricked you into using his shower, his mirror, his towels, his clothes, his bed.

You were everywhere.

And he realized there was one more spot you edged your way in, way before you even stepped foot on the premises of this house. A place that was so full of life despite him thinking it was as dead as the crunched leaves on the ground.

A place that beat wild, calm, out of control, ragged, steady, rumbled, bled.

A place that was so full of you he could never get you out unless he gave himself over to the hands of death like it would take him if he had a different reason this time around. But even then, when he stopped breathing and his blood ran cold, you would still be in there, keeping the walls of it together.

All his life, he's built his inner defences map by map, wreathing sharp blades around his heart like the ones on the walls in the office, in the shape of a crown that could somehow guard the last piece of humanity he had left after Tomoe died. He fought with his all to protect it, turned against anyone who tried to get too close, marred everyone he didn't want to lose before he got too attached. He did all this only for all those defences to uncover one by one and fall down at your feet the minute you stepped into his life.

You came in like a storm unlike the ones already on his shore, rumbling wild with promise of disaster, reaching out through cracks he didn't even realise were left wide open. He was so wrong about you being a tempest that would stop at nothing to destroy him. You did the complete opposite of it, saving that piece of him rather than killing it when he gave you every reason to because there, in your kind and gentle hands that have seen so much evil but did so much more good in return, that locked up humanity of his was set free. In the palm of your hands, he felt alive again.

Because his heart was yours. Every little part of it.

And he hated that it wasn't his own heart that broke that night instead of yours.

Thank you for reading :)

[itsthe-neo-zone]

[03:18PM] ~ Park Jongseong x Reader, Apocalypse au

You didn’t want to live with the misery of regretting everything.

But that all went out the window as soon as the apocalypse began.

2 weeks, it’s been 13 whole days and 12 nights since the whole world decided to end itself.

The reason? An outbreak, a malicious deadly disease terraforming the earth in its own way. Killing everyone and everything with it. And when you say terraforming you mean turning us all against each other.

You regretted waking up that Wednesday morning, regretted getting out of bed, not hugging your mother in your arms longer and giving your family a proper farewell.

You were in school when it happened your district sounding the sirens, mid-week morning meaning you were in the dinner halls, you heard the sirens and all hell broke loose, the diners small tv monitor picked up an emergency broadcast.

Shaking your head subconsciously you drifted your mind away from what happened. It had been difficult thinking the past few days, even eating was becoming a luxury at times.

Like now, you’ve been wandering empty suburb streets looking for something to sustain yourself, where you were looked to be like a neighbouring district, but you weren’t sure, the sign posts were all ripped down to make any form of defence weapon, supplies were scarce at this point.

The scent on you was horrid but not as putrid as the stench of rotting corpses filing the earth. You stopped turning to look around you. The street was dusted with ruined houses all damaged and crumbled to the grounds.

Maybe you could crash into an abandoned one, maybe there was food and maybe you’d finally be able to use an actual bathroom. Your stomach grumbled with delight at the thought of food.

As you were about to pull the rusting metal rod in your hand towards the nearest property you heard a shrieking ear deafening pop,

The blood hit your brain, adrenaline began quickly building up inside you, like a band slowly stretching about to snap, your heart rattling in your chest. It tightened slightly. You swayed slightly from the shock of adrenaline hitting your numb body.

You swiftly turned to see nothing behind you but a pelleted bullet, someone around you had a weapon, and their target? You.

You began seeing the blurred edges of your sight return a sign to take response. Fight or flight. You chose the latter feeling weaker than expected. Heading outwards past the last few properties your best hope was to lose your hunter out in the wilderness.

Brushing past leaves twigs and the thicket of the edges of the lush greenery you low down once you’re no longer hearing bullets trailing after you. It was quiet

Almost too quiet to be normal. You push yourself up against a tree, straining your breath to regulate faster than it should. You regretted being stupid to do that too as you felt the persisting tickle at the back of your throat.

It let a much needed cough to begin crawling up your oesophagus. Shutting your eyes for a moment you stiffened your lips slightly holding it back. Why now of all times, you’d been surviving fine…

You could hear a slight crunch of foliage under careful feet, slowly creeping up on you.

You’d be done for this time if they did have a weapon. Trembling fingers dug into the metallic rod in your palms, they’d make indents from how hard you were gripping.

Feeling your chest tighten a little. The metal was starting to feel slippery in between clammy fingers but you held it to your face keeping your stance ready.

You were scared, no, terrified even. But that didn’t mean you were going to give up so easily. You wanted to survive, you had to.

Ironic.

A few weeks you were ready to give up on life itself.

As you sighed, you prepared to turn and show yourself but as you made a move you felt something restrict your breath and pull you away from the edge of the tree. You didn’t have your hand on your mouth though.

It was a foreign feeling but it was something you greeted with open arms, it was warm, and you forgot the caress of another on your cold stiff body.

Caress of another? It wasn’t my hands.

Gunshots sounded across the clearing you hid from. Disturbing screeches of birds fleeted from above. A harsh thump fell to the floor. A limp body.

But it wasn’t yours. You still had a chance.

Eyes widening, you registered the figure behind you keeping you hold in a strong grip.

The surging boost of energy you had left pushed you to kick with your feet. Backwards tripping up your attacker. The gunshots stopped but you were sure it was them, not just one but 2, maybe more…

The figure fell back unable to balance themselves but you were pulled back, you pushed yourself out of their hold, they pulled away regained their stance before attacking you from your side,

the male twisted his arm around your head and the other at your waist holding your arms down. He was agile and had strength but you managed to be faster. Quickly thinking, you moved.

Digging your elbow into their side hitting them right beneath their rib cage.

Bingo,

you heard a slight grunt they pushed away from you trying to recover.

You turned grabbing the rod, eyes shaking to survey the sight before you. It was just one, you swing your arms back getting ready to attack.

“Stop!” A strained call out towards your direction, but you faltered, it wasn’t for you? He directed it behind you falling back slightly. You turned to see another male.

Eyes trained like he was about to pounce on his prey. What was more horrifying was the gun now in his hold pointed directly at you.

“Don’t, Jake, she’s harmless.”

His arms stayed firmly ahead of him holding the weapon. “Harmless my ass, you were about to lose your head,” his fingers wavered.

“Just listen to me.” The guy stood up. You noticed the tattered and beaten up clothes they wore, rips and smears all over each article. Dried blood splattered across parts of their body. Judging by the colour it wasn’t from today.  

The combat boots the two wore made you think twice about setting down your weapon as you remained in your stance.

But their eyes and faces showed different,

They were anxious, in pain, alert like you.

“Idiot.” He dropped his arms. Mumbling before walking towards the other who was now slowly guiding himself down by supporting himself on the tree.

His face was etched with strain. And for a second you felt a pang of regret. You shrugged the feeling away watching the two converse.

“Are you survivors?” you swayed slightly, pressing forward kept your feet stable you regrated the shakiness your voice had, first people you spoke to in a while and you sound like you were about to cry.

“Just barely,” one huffed, “As I said he was about to lose his head.” The one named Jake turned from tending to his friend and shot you a dirty glare.

Jakes eyes were intense and focused, he didn’t flit nor shy away. Pressing further. You subconsciously step back, eyes looking past him and towards his friend.

“I had to protect myself.” You pull your arms downwards stepping out of the position and lowering your guard slightly.

“Mhm, sure.” He muttered. He turned back lifting the others shirt. A long tear in the seamless skin ran down the males side. It wasn’t bleeding, it looked like it was an old scar. Just barely healed.

“You’re, fine,”

“She had, shit, every right to do that.” The other caught his breath then spoke.

“Right.” Jake pressed his lips into a thin line. It looked like he wasn’t having any of that, his jaw clenched, he was stopping himself from speaking any further.

Standing up and walking past you. He glanced at you up and down before moving back to the clearing.

“Sorry about that,” the boy sitting at the bottom of the tree pushed himself to try getting to his feet, you stared cautiously your fingers tingling to help him, so now you were starting to get your humanity back? Where was this feeling a few days ago?

The fliting sound of slipping feet against the rough terrain is what brought your focus back as you moved to assist him. He groaned.

His eyes caught yours, cautious and foreign, was this just the way he looked at people him or was he anxious to be around you.  

“I’ll … uh.” Your hand waivered, before holding his free arm. “I’ll help you.”

“Um… Thanks.” He nodded clenching his jaw he pushed himself up with your help.

“I’m jay.” His lips pressed into a thin line the edges pushing upwards slightly as he nodded, he stayed silent for a second. You figured out this was an introduction a few seconds late, sucking in a quick breath you mumbled.

“Ah i- yeah…. I’m _____ .” your face tensed up. Jay flashed you a lopsided smile.

“Sorry about earlier, I had to make sure you didn’t interfere while Jake finished up with—uh…”

“Were you the—” you paused. How were you going to ask him if he was the one that was chasing you. How do you word that without sounding weird. “the… I was—”

“You mean the gunshots?” he mumbled.

You quickly nodded giving yourself a mini headache at the fast movement.

“No, we were… in the distance, yeah, when we heard the sound. Just me and Jake.” He lead you to the clearing.

You were slowly introduced into the new space, you watched Jake push the body dressed in black to the side. There was someone following you his face hidden beneath the mask.

“Found all this.” He kicked at the floor with his foot. “shit thing is he’s probably a trained assassin.” He nodded towards the pile of weaponry. “All in his bag, some on him,”

Jake stood up facing Jay. “We need to fucking leave, where there’s one there’s always more.” He lifted a few small items. Something that looked like a smaller loaded gun, testing its scope he tucked it into his pocket.

“Here, take that.” He threw a shielded knife at jay and grabbed a larger gun and handed it to the male next to you.

“lets go.” He walked past Jay and farther out.

As Jay turned he caught your eyes, he saw the anxious glimmer, the shiver you tried to hid and the fact that your fingers were digging in to your palm.

“Our chances of survival are bigger…” he stated. It cut you out of the worry trail your brain was starting to follow,

“Together than apart.”

You caught his eyes. Jay was trying to be as friendly as he could, you could see a glimmer of hope, something you lost within the first 3 days.

“Are you-, I’m sorry I’m a bit confused right— shit, I’ll just ask… are you asking me to…”

“You should come with us.” You silently thanked him for putting you out of your misery. Shocked he was asking you this. And relieved to have met people you could somewhat trust.

“What?”

“HEY! Hurry up if you want to fucking live dude!” Jake was already way ahead.

“Gimme a second!” he sighed, calling out.  

“I was wondering if you wanted to join us. That is if you’re not with anyone right now.”

You could almost cry from the surge of relief you felt. It was almost draining the life out of you fending for yourself. And night-time was when it got its worst alone. No more going crazy talking to yourself.

“Yeah, that would be great.” You voiced out, he smirked, hearing your voice so relieved.

“Glad to hear.” He nodded towards the direction they were headed. Leading you further ahead.

“Do you know how to wield a gun?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll teach you don’t worry.”

~~~

(thinking of truning this idea into a fic what do you think?)

Seola - It’s the neo zone © All rights reserved.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 112

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,900ish

Summary: Captain America: Civil War --- tread carefully.

Steve landed the quinjet as Bucky and Y/N grabbed weapons. 

“You shouldn’t come in with us,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Too bad,” Y/N responded, slipping guns into the holster of her suit, that was thankfully in the quinjet. “I’m coming.”

Bucky sighed before looking up at Y/N. “I’m not the same man you knew.”

“I’m not the same woman. But…” Y/N stepped forward, took Bucky’s metal hand, and held it to her chest. “You’re still my Bucky.”

Bucky studied her eyes for a second before swiftly putting his free hand on the back of her head and pulling her in to meet his lips. She was shocked, not kissing back for a few, before remembering how much she loved the feeling of his lips on hers. He was the one to end the kiss, stepping away and breaking all physical contact with her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Bucky apologized. “I’m not in the correct mindset.”

He quickly made his way over to the back of the quinjet, waiting for the ramp to lower. Y/N joined him before Steve left the pilot’s chair and stood in the middle of them as the ramp lowered.

“You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?” Steve asked.

“Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?” Bucky questioned.

“Yes,” Y/N answered, with a reminiscent smile.

“You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead,” Steve continued.

“What was her name again?” Bucky asked.

“Dolores,” Y/N responded. “You called her Dot.”

“She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now.”

“So are we, pal,” Steve said, clamping his hand on Bucky’s shoulders. 

The three of them looked at each other before Steve slipped his helmet on and they exited the quinjet. It was cold, the wind blowing harshly as snow covered the ground. Bucky led them to the entrance, set in rock. The door was open.

“He can’t have been here more than a few hours,” Steve said as they stared at the door.

“Long enough to wake them up,” Bucky said. Both men looked over to Y/N. 

“Last chance. I really wish—“

“Save it Steve. You know I’m not leaving,” Y/N retorted.

Both men sighed. “Then no powers unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t need you throwing up in the middle of a fight.”

Y/N gave a small nod before Steve led them in, her in the middle and Bucky tailing. They entered a small elevator. She watched as the men nodded at each other while the elevator went down. Once it rattled to a stop, the men heaved up the doors. Steve held up his shield as the other two held up their guns, walking along a corridor, keeping close to a wall. 

The trio headed up a flight of stairs, Bucky leading, Y/N in the middle, and Steve at the end, when they heard a noise from behind them. They swiftly spun around, aiming down the corridor. Still keeping his gun up, Bucky gently pushed Y/N down so that she was more hidden.

“You ready?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky responded. 

The three held their positions as the creaking of the doors at the end of the corridor continued. The double doors part, forced open by Iron Man. Both Steve and Y/N stared in surprise. Tony walked towards them, retracting the suits helmet.

“You seem a little defensive,” Tony commented. 

Steve got up and walked towards Tony, keeping his shield up. Tony eyed Y/N who was slowly following.

“It’s been a long day,” Steve replied.

“At ease, Soldier,” Tony said. “I’m not currently after you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Could be your story’s not so crazy. Maybe. My girl friend also wasn’t at the place that I left her. Figured she was with you.”

“Tony—“

“Ross has no idea I’m here,” Tony cut Y/N off to continue. He lended his shoulder against a large cement post. “I’d like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself.”

“Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork,” Steve said, lowing his shield. It’s good to see you, Tony.”

“You too, Cap. Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you're killing me. There's a truce here. You can drop.”

Steve signals Bucky to lower his weapon, in which he does. Y/N walked up to Tony, hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Nat called and warned me. I had to come help.”

Tony stared at her, studying her carefully for a moment. He had a feeling for a few days now that something was up, something besides the Accords. He just couldn’t figure out what.

“I’m sorry too,” he said quietly, pulling her into his arms. He held a kiss to her head. Bucky tensed at the gesture, which Tony noticed. “Alright, let’s go.”

Tony put his helmet back over his face and the four of them cautiously walked further into the bunker. The three men were positioned so that Y/N was in the middle of them. Iron Man was leading the way towards an enormous chamber with capsules standing in it.

“I got heat signatures,” Tony stated.

“How many?” Steve asked.

Tony paused before answering, “Uh, one.”

As the entered the chamber, the lights turned on. A hazy, yellow mist descended within the capsules around the room. Each capsule contained a soldier. They all looked around, bewildered.

“If it’s any comfort,” Helmut Zemo’s voice came over a speaker, “they died in their sleep.”

They all walked around, staring at the soldiers that had each been shot in the head.

“Do you really think I wanted more of you?” Zemo continued.

“What the hell?” Bucky muttered.

“I'm grateful to them, though. They brought you here.” 

Zemo appeared in the control room, through a small window. Tony lifted up his hand as Steve threw his shield, but it bounced back.

“Please, Captain,” Zemo taunted. “The The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

“I’m betting I could beat that,” Tony retorted. The four of them rounded the center consul so that they could be closer to Zemo.

“Oh, I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you'd never know why you came.”

“You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?” Steve questioned. Staring Zemo straight on.

“I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you're standing here, I just realized . . . there's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.”

“You're Sokovian,” Y/N stated, coming closer. “Is that what this is about?”

“Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I'm here because I made a promise.”

“You lost someone?” Steve wondered.

Zemo, looking grave, clicked his tongue. "I lost everyone. And so will you.” A screen suddenly turned on, bringing everyone’s attentions to it. “An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumples from within? That's dead . . . forever.”

They all moved over and looked at the screen. The frozen frame of a secluded road and the date, December 16, 1991. Tony’s face helmet disappeared, his eyes briefly met Y/n’s before flickering back to the screen that began to play.

“I know that road,” Tony stated, anxiously. “What is this?”

All eyes were now on the screen. A car came into the frame, crashing into a tree. Y/N watched as someone road up on a motor cycle and got off. The Winter Soldier. Steve watched Tony’s increasing unease. The driver got out of the car, crawling on the ground.

“Howard,” Y/N gasped quietly, eyes brimming with tears.

“Help me wife,” Howard begged on the video. “Please. Help.” The Winter Soldier walked over and hoisted him up by his hair. “Sergeant Barnes?”

“Howard!” Maria called. 

Tony looked up and glared at Bucky, before his eyes found their way back to the screen. Y/N was unable to take her eyes off the screen, her heart began racing. On the screen, the Winter Soldier lifted his metal fist.

“Wait!” Howard begged, hand digging into his suit coat. “You don’t want to do this, Barnes. Look.” Howard pulled out the photo of him and Y/N dancing. “We knew each other… You know her… Remember.”

Y/N heart clenched as a sob torn through her. Her hand came up to her mouth, trying to keep it quiet.

“Please don’t,” Howard continued. “Remember Y/N at least.”

After a brief glance at the photo, the Winter Soldier punched Howard over and over.

“Howard!” Maria called again.

Howard slumped over, dead. The Winter Soldier put him in the driver’s seat, face against the steering wheel. He walked around the the passenger side, where Maria was located. The Soldier reached in and gripped her throat, expressionless as he strangled Maria. The Winter Soldier then walked up and aimed a gun at the surveillance camera, ending the feed.

Y/N’s heart was beating rapidly. It was the only thing she could hear. Her breathing was becoming increasingly unsteady. Losing her balance, she backed up into the wall and slid down it. Steve kept his eyes on Tony, who lunged towards Bucky.

“Tony, Tony,” Steve said, stopping him.

Tony looked at Steve, clearly consumed with grief and tears glistening in his eyes. “Did you know?” Tony asked, trying to control his emotions. 

“I didn’t know it was him.”

“Don't bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?”

“Yes.” 

Tony stepped back, chin jutting up in a twitch. Looking over at Y/N, he sees her struggling with this as well, making him realize that she didn’t know either. Tony reengaged his helmet. He punched Steve to the floor and deflected gunfire from Bucky, disarming him. Grabbing Bucky, he flew across the chamber, slamming Bucky onto the floor. Tony pinned Bucky’s arms down but was unable to fire because Steve threw his shield at him.

Steve barged Tony backwards. Tony then shouldered Steve to the floor, shackling his ankles. Bucky came back up and punched Tony, who just listed him and slammed him against a machine. Tony raised a fist, but Bucky twisted it. A rocket shot out from the Iron Man suit, a fireball exploding. Steve sliced his shackles as a towering structure of pipework collapsed.

Barely registering what was happening around her, Y/N was quickly thrown back into her senses, as pieces of metal began to fall around her, boxing her into the corner. 

“Ah!” She screamed.

Bucky and Tony were thrown to the ground by the metal, not hearing her screams. Steve though, did.

“No,” he whispered. Steve and Bucky stood up, making eye contact. “Find Y/N and get out of here!”

Bucky nodded. He quickly found her, throwing the metal to the side.

“I’ve got you, Y/N/N,” Bucky said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N shaking in his hold as Bucky rushed towards the wall with the lowest platform. He hit a control panel, opening the over head roof. Tony shot at them, thankfully missing, before Steve landed in front of him. 

“It wasn’t him, Tony,” Steve stated. “HYDRA had control of his mind!”

“Move!” Tony ordered, hovering. He began to fly over Steve.

“It wasn’t him!”

Steve grabbed onto Tony’s ankle in mid air, smashing the bottom of the boot. They fought while Bucky was trying his best to make his way up the platforms with an almost unresponsive Y/N in his arms. He began to notice that the trembling was increasing and that she was sweating everywhere.

Tony unsteadily soared upwards as Bucky jumped across to another platform, Y/n still in his arms. Tony kicked Bucky down, causing him to let go of Y/n, who rolled away. Tony then took aim but Steve quickly jumped in front of Bucky, using his shield to rebound the energy back to Tony. He dropped, landing on a lowering platform.

“He’s not going to stop,” Steve stated, helping Bucky up. “Go.”

“Steve, it’s too dangerous for me to take Y/N,” Bucky worried. “Look.”

Steve looked over to see Y/N shaking, with sweat dripping down her forehead.

“I’ve got her,” Steve stated. “Go.”

Bucky ran and Steve leaped over and shot a wire around Tony’s neck, dragging him down. Tony deflected Steve’s shield, before trying to target Bucky.

“Come on, come on,” Tony muttered.

“Targeting system’s knackered, boss,” FRIDAY warned.

“I’m eyeballing it.”

Tony’s helmet retracted and he shut one eye, taking aim at the opening hatch. He fired, hitting the giant hinge and cutting off Bucky’s escape route. Tony then flew up, blocking two swings from an iron pipe Bucky was trying to use. Tony grabbed Bucky around the neck from behind.

“Do you even remember them?” Tony asked.

“I remember all of them,” Bucky replied.

Bucky pushed them both of the walkway. Steve jumped into them to deflect their fall. Bucky landed on a platform while Tony and Steve landed on the concrete floor besides an opening in the wall where snow drifts in. Finally hearing more of the commotion, Y/N pushed herself up, looking over the side.

“No,” she panted. 

The three men she loved most in the world where fighting each other and she had no strength to stop them. She winced as she felt a cramp in her lower abdomen. 

“No, no, no,” she whispered frantically. 

Pushing herself up, she shakily jumped down from platform to platform as the men still fought.

“This isn’t gonna change what happened,” Steve said to Tony.

“I don’t care,” Tony replied. “He killed my mom.”

The two began going at each other, with Bucky shown joining in. Y/N got down to their level as Bucky was blasted away from Tony, his metal arm blowing off. Tony zapped him again, throwing him to the side. Y/N rushed as quick as she could over to him.

“B-bucky,” she called, collapsing beside him. “Bucky, please…”

Bucky coughed up some blood. “Go,” he groaned. “You have to get out of here.”

“But you’re all killing each other.”

“And you shouldn’t have to see that… go… please…. I love you.”

“Bucky, I—“

“Go.”

With an unsteady inhale and a nod, Y/N opened a portal to the quinjet. She knew she couldn’t get much further than that. Closing it, she fell onto the ground. She had no more energy to move but her body still forced her to vomit. Y/N couldn’t focus on anything around her, black spots filling her vision. With one more heave, she blacked out.

~~~

Tony and Steve were both panting as Steve ripped the shield out of Tony’s suit and helped Bucky up. They began to walk away, leaving Tony on the ground.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you,” Tony said. “My father made that shield!”

Pausing, Steve raised his chin before dropping the shield. He walked around, with Bucky’s arm around his shoulder, leaving Tony to stare at the shield. Panting, he watched it until something suddenly hit him.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “No.” He pushed himself up. “Y/N!” 

He called her name as she walked around, searching for her. Tony feared ash something terrible had happened to her or that she had gone with Steve and Bucky. He eventually, after almost an hour, gave up the search and headed out of the bunker. Tony was thankful to still see a quinjet here. As he entered the jet, he saw a body laying in the middle of it.

“Y/N… Baby?” 

Tony slowly limped over to her. As he drew closer, he noticed the blood seeping from somewhere in between her legs. He rushed to kneel next to her. 

“Honey,” he tried to be gentle but firm as he turned her over from the vomit she was in and patted her cheek. “Y/N, please.” 

But nothing. He quickly moved to find where the blood was coming from. There was no gash, no wound. As he ran through all the possible things, Tony’s mind came to one solution. 

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.” 

He hurried and got the quinjet into the air and set for the compound before getting out of his battle torn suit. Tony then took Y/N into his arms, rocking her as he begged for her to wake. 

“I can’t lose more than I already have… I’m so sorry…” 

Dr. Cho was already there waiting for the quinjet when they landed back at the compound. Her and her people rushed Y/N away from Tony. He watched helplessly, falling onto his knees as tears trailed down his cheeks. And he did the one thing he’d never done before in his life. Tony Stark prayed. 

“Please God… don’t take them from me… I’ll be better, work harder… I’ll do anything. I’ll give anything. Including my own life… Just don’t take them from me. I’m begging you… I-I-I didn’t even know… I didn’t even know…”

next chapter >

I’ll see you guys after Disney World! I’ll still be responding to asks and comments!

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Nemesis - Part 6

Based on the votes from last time, it’s time to get Hero some help! With A winning out, Hero has decided to trust Teammate-- let’s just hope they deserve that trust.

Thanks everyone for their suggestions, again! @freefallingup13​ had a particularly good and whumpy :)

As of time of writing I have to wake up for work in an hour but uhh. Worth it

Without further ado:

CW//Unreality, hallucinations (including spiders, body horror, blood, and needles), strong language, gags, restraining

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When Villain awoke, the spiderweb that held them in place, the web that that turned and held their limbs until they choked for air and the bitter taste of salt, was no longer made of the same silk.

That was not to say that it had, beforehand, been made of silk at all-- to say that it had not been made of veins turned inside out, a ring of plastic choking on a seagull. No, they knew what it was like to be a fox tripping on its own tail, and that was not this. The glycol in their veins still made them shiver, a mouth full of dry ice stubbornly refusing to melt, but it seemed as though the spider that wrapped their own veins around their neck had turned the other way.

Simply to test this theory, somewhere, someone kicked out-- a twitching gesture with a leg that may or may not have been attached to Villain’s body, somewhere. The silk web yielded easily, though it did not break.

The spider would not allow that to happen, which meant...

A pair of eyes, for the first time in a millennium, snapped open.

The face that stared back at them could not have possibly been a face, as faces were supposed to have eyes and mouths and...

But the doctors, the nurses, the orderlies and scurses, did not always have faces. Not when they did not feel like it. Not when balancing the formulae would take too much energy.

The faceless face that was not a face reached forward, reached towards them. An appendage, a spiders leg.

Villain fought with their muscles, willing them to scrape up long-forgotten memories on how to contract, which they agreed to do in slow order. Propelled by things that were perhaps limbs, they scrambled backwards-- only to soon find themself backed against something far less yielding than web.

The hand, the hand, the spiders leg, it would not give way. Villain’s breathing quickened at the thought of the appendage piercing their veins, piercing their heart, as it had done so many times. Yet, even as they fought, the wall would not yield to them.

They had spoken to walls before, and they did not usually reply, but usually and its kin were unimportant in the present moment. By some miracle, their tongue emerged from its cage of ice.

Villain screamed, but there was no one to hear it.. No, there was only a face without a face, a spider’s limb, and a knock on the door.

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Hero froze.

For the first time in what was now far more than a year, they moved less than Villain. They were reckless-- that was what everyone had always said, in jokes and insults alike-- but this time, their impulses failed them. If they had any sort of impulse at the moment, it was the urge to hide under their bed covers and wait for the noise to stop.

But it was not going to stop. They knew that, they weren’t stupid.

Or, maybe they were.

They had been stupid enough to drag Villain back here. Stupid enough to hide them in a closet of all places, in which they were now thrashing and screaming loud enough to shred their throat. Stupid enough to let Teammate hear. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The smart decision would have been to slam the closet door shut, shout something about watching a horror movie, and handle the problem on their own terms. In this disaster of a situation, the fact that only they knew Villain’s whereabouts gave them at least the slightest modicum of control. That secret, it was all they had.

Giving that away, giving away their only tiny piece of leverage, that would be a stupid decision. But... Ah, to hell with it. Sitting at the bottom of a pit, there was no real reason not to grab a shovel.

Whatever facial expression they answered the door with, it seemed to do absolutely nothing to alleviate Teammate’s worries.

Again, Villain screamed, though this time it wasn’t coherent enough to be described in words.

“Oh god.” Teammate shook their head, as if they had only just realized that, whatever was happening, it was more than real. “Oh god, Hero. What did you- Please don’t tell me you’re like, murdering someone in there.”

Another scream. A string of ‘please’s’ and sobs.

Hero opened their mouth, but found their tongue too dry for words. Instead, they gripped Teammate by the hand, practically throwing them into their room before slamming the door.

Teammate’s bewildered gaze spun around, finally landing on the frenetic figure in the closet.

“Hero, is that-”

“Villain.”

“What the fuck.” Quick as always, they seemed to take only a moment to let the gears in the head grind. Seemingly having made their choice within that split-second, they dropped to their knees next to the closet’s entrance. “Hey, hey. Villain! You need to be quiet. The first step in figuring this thing out is you shutting your mouth.”

Hero dropped next to them, crawling forth to their friend’s side. They shook their head somberly.

“They can’t hear you.”

“What?”

“Their, um, their head isn’t working right now?”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not right n-”

“I don’t want to leave! I want to go home! You don’t have to do this- Please don’t do this! Let me go, no, no, no!”

“You’re not...” Teammate sounded breathless. “You’re not even touching them.”

“They don’t know that.”

“They can’t hear me?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

It took Hero’s eyes a moment to process the flash of activity. If Teammate had an ounce of hesitation in their body, it seemed to have dissipated as they threw themself forwards. The full force of their thrown weight slammed into Villain, sending them sprawling onto their nest of blankets.

If they thought in that moment, they certainly did not act on those thoughts, as their next action seemed so impulsive that Hero wondered why they hadn’t thought of it.

Teammate shoved their hand on Villain’s face, struggling to hold their mouth closed-- when this proved impossible, they went a step further, simply shoving their hand as far into the half-conscious Villain’s mouth as it could go.

Villain’s screaming stopped, though its finale was accented by a yelp from Teammate. They gritted their teeth in pain as their trashing captive gritted their teeth around their hand.

“This really hurts.” It may have hurt, but Teammate, by some miracle, did not lose their composure. “Do you have anything to like, gag them?”

“Gag them?”

“Yes!”

“Um, um.” Probably making far more noise than they thought have, Hero scampered about their dorm. A moment later, a hand towel from the bathroom was thrown to Teammate’s hand. “There!”

“It’ll do.”

Yanking their now-bloodied hand from the villain’s jaw, they quickly replaced it with the fabric, forcing it between Villain’s teeth and securing it firmly around the back of their head.

For the first time, Hero breathed.

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The ice in Villain’s mouth was torn from their jaws, replaced in short order by something fleshy, throbbing, and tasting of iron.

The spider had moved far too quickly for them to resist, holding them firmly from behind. Though they could see eight twitching legs forcing them still, they could only feel one of them-- wrapped around their chest, restraining their arms against their sides.

Their-

Their arms?

What were... Bones and tendons wrapped in muscles and ligatures and skin and it was theirs and they could feel it. Oh, god, it was warm. The blazing warmth of a furless animal held against bare skin.

How long had it been since they had had arms?

They could not move them, not far, but at the moment, that was far from their largest concern. Instead, they were far more focused on the fleshy thing (a hand? what did that word mean?) as it removed itself from their jaws, replaced just as quickly by something cold and silken.

Again, again, again they tried to talk to the wall, to beg it to allow them passage, but something rough and scratchy was holding their tongue.

The orderlies, the spiders, the seagulls, did not want them to scream. They did not want them to run away. They did not want the walls to wake up, to listen to them.

There was two of them, now. Two tormentors. One behind and one in front, en devant. They had multiplied, as if their webs alone were not enough to hold their prey.

Even without faces, they managed to speak, and even with eight limbs, they managed to only move four of them as they shifted positions. Switching places. The one behind became the one in front and...

Two limbs, now, wrapped around their front. Warm. They were so, so warm. Villain felt to be wading into the ocean, letting the hot, salty water carry their weight.

It was a spider holding them-- they should not feel like this! The web yielded easily against their thrashing, their legs, they had legs now, but the orderly held firm.

The orderlies... the orderlies were cold. Their veins ran thick with liquid nitrogen. Why was this spider so warm?

Villain felt to lose control of their limbs, yet, this time, that control was not snatched away from them. Not like so many times. It faded, warm ocean waters pleasantly taking the weight of wakefulness away.

The tide came in, gentle and slow. Villain breathed it in, filling their lungs with the orange waves, until the water took the pain away.

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“They’re asleep?” Teammate raised a brow.

Hero shook their head, moving as little as they could in doing so. They were equally as cautious as they tilted their head downwards, looking to where Villain’s head had slumped backwards, resting on Hero’s shoulder.

“Not asleep. Just... Just relaxing, I think.”

“Okay. Please don’t tell me they’re gonna start screaming again once you move.”

“Uh... Hopefully not. I doubt it. They’re calm now, I think.”

“Are you going to explain to me what in the world that was all about?”

“Mhm. But first... I don’t think they can eat yet. But let’s get them some water.”

“A bottle?”

“Just a cup. They’re still weak.”

“That’s why my hand’s bleeding?”

“You know what I mean.”

Teammate rolled their eyes playfully, but nodded. They took a moment to wash their hand of blood and possible infection before returning, a paper cup of water in hand.

“I’m scared they’re gonna choke.” Teammate admitted.

“You’re scared for Villain?”

“I- I mean... They’re not really Villain right now, are they?”

“They’re Villain. But I don’t know if they’re a villain.” On queue, the unconscious person in Hero’s grasp shifted and whimpered. Hero tightened their grip, holding their charge secure until they quieted once more. “I just know they’re weak.”

“Do you think we can get some water down, then?”

“If we go slow. I don’t think I can let go. Can you just, kinda, tip it into their mouth?”

“Mhm.”

Teammate shifted their position on the floor, gently tipping Villain’s chin upwards with one hand, using the thumb to coax their mouth open. With the other hand, they tipped in what amounted to less than a swallow of water.

For a moment, Villain seemed confused, before some latent instinct kicked in. Again, Teammate tipped the cup forward, and again, helping more water go down each time until the glass was empty.

“Thank you.” Hero smiled, wavering, only then realizing just how much exhaustion threatened to grip their bones. “Let’s get them back to sleep.”

“And then, you are going to tell me everything.”

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Outside Hero’s window, a choir of unseen crickets chirped, calls reaching from the grass to the top of the skyscraper they called HQ.

It wasn’t exactly the most appropriate ambience for the situation, but it was better than screaming. A lot better than screaming.

In the earliest hours of dawn, two figures sat on a bed, swinging their legs over its side.

“So... Let me get this straight. You got messaged by a random person claiming to be some kind of hacker?”

“Yep.”

“And then they showed you classified documents saying that Villain was being drugged.”

“Mhm.”

“So you pretended to be the most powerful man in the city and... effectively kidnapped your nemesis.”

“I think at this point I’d say former nemesis, but... yeah. Pretty much.”

Teammate stared at Hero for a long moment, countenance as incredulous as it was dismayed.

“I love you, you goddamned idiot.”

“Gay.” Hero snickered.

“Is not. Your partner is in that closet over there.”

“Villain is not- I am not awake enough for this discussion. But, yes, pretty much. That is the story up until now. If you’re gonna yell at me, please be quiet. I don’t want to wake Villain up.”

“I wasn’t going to yell at you.”

“You weren’t?”

“You did the right thing.”

Hero blinked in disbelief.

“You really think-”

“They were suffering, that much is clear. What you did was impulsive and stupid, no doubt, but anything is better than that rehab place. Even if you just kinda, shoved them in your closet.”

“T- thank you. I think.”

“I do have one question, though.” Teammate looked up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did.”

“I mean before.”

“I didn’t-” Hero sighed, dipping their head. “I thought you would have told me to get over it. To leave it be.”

“I wouldn’t have. But there’s nothing we can do about that now.” Teammate exhaled. “So... what do we do?”

“About Villain?”

“Yes, about Villain.”

“I think- I mean, I’m no doctor, but I think it’s going to be a rough few days. I don’t have the documents, but they were heavily, heavily medicated. Coming off all of that will be difficult.”

“It would kill them, will it?”

“If it does, then we have a bigger problem. I don’t know anything about any of that stuff. The best we can do, I think, is just to keep them comfortable. Water is important. And maybe some food if they can get it down. I hate keeping them in, y’know, a closet, but moving them isn’t an option right now. Not when they’re liable to go all crazy-eyed at any second.”

“We’re really going to play, what, wildlife rehabber for your nemesis?”

“Pretty much, honestly.”

“Well.” Teammate gave the look- the look they always fixed Hero with, right before dashing into a plan that was ill-advised but somehow always successful. The look of possibly misguided determination. “Then, we need to take shifts. You have a calendar on you?”

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The world was made of blocks.

Villain moved their hands to their face, trying to remove the dirtied glasses that they were certain sat in front of their eyes, but found nothing of the sort. With leaden eyelids, they blinked, though the world refused to clear itself.

The beige block atop them was warm, coaxing them back to sleep, but they had no interest in returning to unconsciousness. For a reason they could not quite understand, the very thought of it made their mind spin with spiderwebs.

Instead, they hauled themself to their hands and knees, all four limbs under them shaking and struggling to stay still. When at last they gained the strength to lift their head, they did so-- only to find two faces, an inch away.

Faces.

Oh my god, they were faces! Blocky and blurry, but faces with eyes and mouths that moved, showing tongues and teeth and...

And they were speaking.

Villain blinked, again, the nonsensical action managing in some confused way to clear their ears.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Don’t push yourself. It’s Hero. I’m here to help you.”

From one of the blurry bodies, a limb emerged. A hand. An offering.

A hazy offering.

Still wobbling, Villain attempted to copy the gesture, lifting their own hand, attempting to pass it through the other limb. To shake away the ghost made of mist.

Instead, they found flesh. Real, solid human being.

Something was in their mouth, but it could not quiet their thoughts:

You’re real?

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Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. This time, the option is for Villain, not Hero.

A.) This may all be a little confusing, but if Hero says they’re here to help, then they must be telling the truth. Trust Hero - Should the same trust be extended to Teammate?

B.) This doesn’t make sense. This can’t be Hero. Even if it is, it’s some kind of trick. Don’t trust Hero - Should Villain attempt to escape?

(This time, it’s less about what’s more sensical for Villain to do, and more about what would be the most fun, and whumpy! :) )

[uwua3]

if it's ok 😳👉👈 i really love your writing and i've had this idea in my head for awhile but i can't get myself to write it on my own 🤔 i wanted to see how your spin would be on it- so can i request a prompt where reader gets jealous of tenma's co-actress in a romance and tries to mimic what she does to him in a show they're in?? ty!!! 💕💕💕 i look forward to your interpretation

thank you so much for requesting~ ♡ i love you sososo much; i hope this lives up to everything you’ve dreamed of! ♡ ～('▽^人) i LOVE YOU!!! <333

summary: when tenma lands a role in your favorite drama, he had one goal: to become your favorite actor

warnings: envy/jealousy, food mentions, rivalry (all covered briefly!)

author’s note: after learning everything there is to know about the k-drama, true beauty, on tik tok, i’ve decided to write this! for context, the only thing i recommend watching before reading this is watching the “roar” scene!

this is also the first time i’ve introduced made-up characters with names! please enjoy jun, the first character who isn’t canon to the a3!verse :D

word count: 3,768

music: like a movie – b1a4

pretty u!

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

what the heck was love, and why did he have to be in it?

sumeragi tenma, future “world’s best actor”, was suddenly... seeing why he hadn’t won that award yet. with a script in his hand and confusion in another, tenma read the title of the next drama he landed the role for

“PRETTY U...” it was japan’s next major love story, advertised on every social media platform possible with the all-star cast in the spotlight already. although it had already been out for a season, tenma was entering as the up-and-coming newest character of the series

tenma was boyish, young, and much too confident for his age—perfect for the role of a second-lead bad boy who was going to steal the heart and test the protagonist’s commitment

except... he didn’t actually want to take up a new project so soon. he only did because—

“what?! you’re going to be chan on PRETTY U?!” he proudly nodded and watched as you began ranting about how much you loved this show. there was only one reason he came to the audition: tenma wanted to star in your favorite television series

you always went on and on about how great everything about PRETTY U was. after hearing so much and pretending not to listen (even if he could practically explain the entire plotline now without watching it), tenma let himself become a fan, too

after all, how could he not be a fan when you loved PRETTY U so much?

tenma didn’t respond to his manager’s pleas until one day, you revealed another reason why PRETTY U was your favorite production: the main lead

“he’s so handsome~ i love him so much!” “do you know him? could you get me his number?” “look at him... he’s the most perfect actor in the business right now—ah, sorry ten!”

tenma scoffed every time, claiming he could most certainly do better than that hotshot. although the boys typically didn’t do the same type of television, he had become tenma’s #1 rival without even knowing it

besides... what did that guy have that tenma didn’t? he was just nice! sure, he held open the door for the lead, bent down to tie her shoes, bended over backwards just to be the perfect boy-next-door. yeah... even he couldn’t pretend anymore

tenma pouted at the thought, skimming over his next pilot episode for rehearsal tomorrow. he was too good to be real, after all, he was meant to end up with the lead girl anyways (spoiler alert!)

but, it didn’t matter how perfect that actor was! because tenma had gotten the role of “chan”, the leather-jacket wearing mystery with an actual heart of gold, and he was going to make the entire audience swoon

(though, tenma just wanted to make your heart skip a beat when he ended up on the big screen)

tenma would never admit how fast he checked his phone when he felt it buzz in his pocket. sure, it was unprofessional during rehearsal but he knew it was you. however, his smile dropped the moment he read what you sent

you: remember to tell him how much i love him!

tenma: hah... no good luck for your new bad boy?

you: you know i’ll always root for you, ten!

tenma: but, i’m better than that actor, right?

tenma watched his message get delivered and was about to keep bothering you until someone called his name like they were friends. speak of the devil...

that actor’s straight, white toothy smile made tenma stand a little straighter (damn it, tenma was shorter), eyes wide as the actor gracefully introduced himself as his co-star for the next month or so (how did his voice sound even better in person?!)

“good morning, tenma! my name is jun, i’m so honored to meet a fellow actor on set! let’s work together well!” were they... really the same age? tenma barely registered the fact he was suddenly shaking jun’s (right, that’s his name) hand. why did he have such a manly grip?

tenma quickly (to his dismay) found out that him & jun had entered the industry around the same time but often had different projects, so they were never featured in the same production before. apparently, that was creating quite a buzz in the media that two childhood stars were competing against one another

a competition that tenma couldn’t lose. he was going to be your favorite actor, not his rival!

jun, like the perfect gentleman everyone described him to be, showed tenma around the PRETTY U set. jun had nothing but good things to say about the crew and vise versa. that only reinforced how tenma was oddly much more quiet than he usually was. luckily, one of the talents of being an actor was improvising, so jun was doing just fine

when they had reached the dressing rooms, jun shot a bright smile at tenma and gestured to the rather large room

“we’ll be sharing a dressing room together, tenma! we’ll be spending a lot of time together!”

tenma suddenly regretted his decision to become chan of PRETTY U. you couldn’t have had a different favorite show?! anything but... this

there were now three main characters for PRETTY U: hoshi, yuri, and chan, creating a love triangle for millions of viewers to watch every week

nakamura jun, leading role, played “hoshi”, the boy-next-door. this is the popular boy at school with the best grades and an even greater reputation amongst everyone. next, uedo ren, one of japan’s rising female actresses of this generation. she is adored as “yuri”, the perfect girl. she is the typical nerd who suddenly transformed into the prettiest girl at school from learning make-up

last (but definitely not least!) is sumeragi tenma, playing “chan”, the bad boy. it was nothing like tenma’s done before, since the character was much less expressive than he was used to. chan is a traditional rebel who is revealed to have a soft side for yuri. but, chan (ironically enough) has a secret history with hoshi, causing tension in this already confusing love triangle

(embarrassingly enough, jun had to explain to tenma the complications and ties between each character. tenma, unfortunately, found it to be extremely helpful)

even with this newfound knowledge of the characters in season 2, tenma couldn’t help but absolutely ruin the first day of rehearsals. even with a decade or so of acting as his experience, one thing kept him from being chan: his lack of chemistry with “yuri”

“cut!” the director called out again for the nth time, sighing as their eyes landed on tenma, who was not enjoying being the center of attention this time, surprisingly

“take 5, kid. once you come back, i expect you to actually go through this scene without messing up your lines.” tenma nodded and exited quickly, feeling flustered from the looks of sympathy directed his way. usually, it was one-and-done. it didn’t take a hundred tries just to do another romantic and cliché scene

tenma exhaled loudly once he felt the fresh air upon his face. without the fear of cameras in his face anymore, tenma ran his hand through his hair with a frustrated kick at the concrete. come on! he was renown child actor sumeragi tenma, why was he so in his head now?

tenma was about to yell into the sky before he heard someone close the door, standing beside him with their usual silence. tenma didn’t even have to look to know it was jun (probably with the most pitiful look ever)

“tenma? are you okay?” jun waited as tenma tried to not say anything he’d regret, shifting his weight on his foot back and forth before relenting, shrugging as if it couldn’t be helped

“i don’t know... i just, i can’t see yuri that way. how am i supposed to flirt with someone i don’t even like?”

jun pondered the thought for a moment, before tilting his head, a boyish smile overtaking his features. tenma unwillingly relaxed; jun finally looked his age

“who do you like then?”

tenma froze, a blush even foundation couldn’t hide blossoming on his cheeks. jun let out a teasing “oooh!” as he nudged tenma with his shoulder, who pushed back with an eye-roll

“i-it’s not like that! don’t be so—ugh!” tenma cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding jun’s knowing eyes. damn it, they barely knew each other. why was he getting so comfortable with his enemy?!

“well, whoever you thought of, imagine yuri as them.”

“is that what you do?”

jun shrugged, not giving a clear answer for once. before tenma could ask for more information, their break was over

when tenma returned to the scene, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. when he opened them again, he watched as yuri transformed into the one person he’s been trying to impress this entire time: you

when “you” smiled, tenma couldn’t help but follow along. his first-take after break made the cut for the final product

“you must really like them, tenma~” — “stop!!!”

filiming afterwards became easy, especially when he imagined all his romantic words were directed towards you. he could feel the clamminess of his hands, the rapid beat of his heart, the intense blush across his face, all at the thought of you

(the only time he had to start over was when he accidentally said your name instead of yuri’s)

tenma was sure he’d become your favorite actor now! after all, you were his favorite person

“will you watch the first episode of PRETTY U’s season 2 with me?”

you had never said yes so fast in your entire life. when tenma learned there’d be a cast-viewing of episode 1 after finishing the season, he knew his +1 invite could only go to the biggest fan of the show

throughout filming, you were always the person who got him in trouble when the text tone wasn’t put on silent. you liked spamming tenma with a bunch of supportive and encouraging messages when you were available, meaning tenma always had something to look forward to after each scene

in return, tenma would send a selfie of him with his castmates or the set (or, what he was allowed to show under his contract). yet, despite your constant pleas, there was one co-star he’d never take a photograph with: jun

(“tenma! we’ve worked together for months~ shouldn’t i be called your friend now?” “no—” “huh?! don’t pretend you don’t like me!” “who said i was pretending?” “tenma!”)

at first, tenma was apprehensive about inviting you to an event where jun’s picture-perfect face would be on display everywhere. but, whenever he saw you, the weight of the tickets suddenly felt much heavier in his pocket. he couldn’t deprieve you of such an exclusive event just because of his jealousy (even if he was this close to doing so)

when tenma impulsively asked three days before, it felt worth it when you threw your arms around him (he hugged you back and pretended this meant something to you)

“i love you, ten!”

tenma felt like he was on set again, with yuri’s arms tightly holding onto his heart

“i love you, too.”

even after saying it so many times, tenma meant it even if he didn’t say it to your face every time

you looked like the star of the show

tenma fixed his tie as his blazer suddenly felt too tight. you appeared in your most formal attire, looking like a million bucks as you two sat across each other in the limo

“ten, look at all of this!” you pointed out every little thing of preparing for a professional event. the little glasses of champagne neither of you two could drink sat to the side as the leather seats molded to fit your posture. as the night lights of tokyo blurred by, tenma couldn’t help but think you sparkled more than this diamond of a city

“i can’t wait to go see the first episode! thank you for inviting me.” you bowed your head, as if suddenly overcome with gratefulness. tenma lightly kicked your shoe with his, fondly rolling his eyes as he tried not to smile (mission failed)

“don’t worry about it, who else would i bring? you’re my favorite pe—friend. friend, yeah...” tenma trailed off, suddenly finding something very interesting outside of the window. you only nodded, seemingly more interested in the fact there was enough room to walk around

when tenma caught sight of the infamous red carpet laid out in front of the theatre, he cleared his throat and put on his best face for the cameras. after stepping out of the car with his bodyguards nearby, tenma turned and gave you a genuine smile. not his typical arrogant smirk the news source ate up, but a type of smile only reserved for you

when he held out his hand, the flashing lights behind him seemed like a real celebrity, something you had never considered him to be before. it was like seeing tenma in a new light (both literally and figuratively)

“shall we?” you took his hand and wondered if you could ever have your own j-drama. perhaps, tenma could even be the main lead...

before you could step off to the side, tenma already had his arm wrapped around your waist with his unchanging expression (however, underneath it all, he was internally freaking out. what was he going to do now?!)

“you’re my date, right? walk the red carpet with me.” tenma winked (you swore it sparkled) as he gestured towards the carpet ahead. suddenly, the line seemed much longer

“t-ten... you’ve never brought a date before...” you mumbled, acutely aware of how soon it was to walk down together. tenma’s arm stiffened, but nothing else exposed the revelation as he looked down at you

“you’re my first, then.” and my last, tenma thought to himself. before you could change your mind, it was showtime. tenma put on his movie star face and introduced you to familiar interviewers, smiling away as if you two weren’t panicking on the inside

while you were focusing on the fact you were going to be going viral as tenma’s first “date” to the event, tenma was trying not to blush from how close you were. you felt... right besides him

tenma was a natural in front of an audience waiting for him to make a mistake. he flawlessly answered every question with swaggering confidence, his stride easy and poses photogenic

you did your best to follow his lead but it all ended when tenma took you into the theatre, staring down at you with a bright smile

“we did it! see, told you we’d be just fine.” tenma let out an exhale of relief, glowing with joy from the adrenaline of everything that came with being a superstar. as you looked up into his excited eyes, you saw him lean down before—

“your arm is still around me.”

silence, then a hurried separation as tenma put too many feet between you two. it was suddenly as if you two were strangers. you regretted the words the moment they left your mouth; you didn’t mind at all... why did you say something?!

“um... so, food?” tenma spoke up after an eternity of making excuses. you two quickly moved to the line of movie snacks, using candy and popcorn to substitue the suddenly awkward silence

when tenma ordered all your favorites without even asking, he turned around with the selection only to close his eyes and internalize every single thing he was feeling because there he was, his worst enemy

jun entered from a side door, most likely finishing up helping the crew with set-up (and 30 minutes early as usual) before catching tenma’s iconic bright orange hair, a grin lighting up his face

“tenma! it’s me, jun!” he said, as if they weren’t the two main leads of japan’s most famous drama so far. immediately, your smile matched jun’s as you watched as your favorite actor of all time make his way towards you two

“jun... of course you’d be here.” tenma said through gritted teeth, forcing a pleasant smile even with an armful of junk

“ah, still keeping the bad boy attitude? we’re off set now, you can stop method acting now.” jun joked, bringing his attention to you with a dazzling smile that would absolutely make any fansite’s career

“oh? who is this, a friend of yours?” tenma tried not to sigh so loud when you couldn’t help yourself and burst into a long rant about how amazing jun was. tenma waited until you reached your midpoint and stopped you with a quick nudge, trying not to scream (could jun stop being so... perfect? could you stop being so cute?!)

when tenma introduced you, he stood a little closer as he tried to maintain his jealousy. “they’re my date, by the way.” no one had asked, but tenma was clearly telling anyone who was around you two had gone together

jun’s eyes lit up in recognition as he let out a noise of surprise. “ah~ so this is who you—”

tenma didn’t regret losing his giant popcorn so fast to a co-star who could only be silenced with food. his wallet could afford another one, anyways. his pride on the other hand? could not let you know his acting secret already

“what was jun going to say?” you asked after you two departed for the viewing room. tenma nonchalantly pretended like everything was okay as he guided you to front row

“probably something about the fact you’re the one who always interrupts our scenes.”

“hey! my texts make your day, don’t lie!”

“go sit down and eat already, jeez.”

when it began, your eyes couldn’t leave the screen. it was better than you could have imagined. everything was perfect, it exceeded the standards of even the toughest fans out there. you loved every second of it... except...

tenma was too good at being chan. even with his bright hair, the dark clothes he wore made him appear intimidating, with his sharp eyes and even sharper smirk. chan’s appearance was tough, rough, and mean, everything tenma wasn’t

yet, you still couldn’t help but feel your heart sink when chan was clearly in love with yuri. yuri was one of your favorite characters by far, but she ended up bothering you for the entireity of the episode

especially every time she shared a scene (which were many times) with chan. chan was revealed to be a bad boy with a heart of gold, all with a special soft side for yuri

what was this feeling? were you... no, you couldn’t be! after all, you had never seen tenma that way before, right? yet, every time chan made an exception for yuri, you felt sick to your stomach

was it possible that tenma liked the actress who played yuri? you snuck a glance at tenma, only to see he was looking at you already (he’d never admit it, but he was watching your reactions to see if he made you proud. yet, every time you saw him, you subconsciously frowned)

were you not proud of him? did you not like his performance as chan?

before tenma could ask you, the scene changed into one of chan’s. he was standing outside in the school uniform, his head ducked as he swiped through yuri’s social media. before he could look up, yuri jumped in front of him with a teasing smile

“roar!” she called out, referring to their inside joke earlier in the episode. yuri cutely bounced back with another roar, holding her hands up like paws. chan watched, his typical rock-hard expression breaking to reveal his developing feelings for yuri

later on, chan stopped yuri in the hallway, other students watching as the school’s bad boy and goddess interact

“do that again.” chan demanded to which yuri innocently tilted her head, confused like a little puppy. “do what?” “that... that thing.” when chan roared, tenma sunk into his seat with an embarrassed defense and explanation ready. but, when he looked, you finally cracked a laugh at his little roar

your smile only fell when yuri roared again as a joke, but chan smiled for once. tenma wondered why... he thought you would be so happy to be here with him. maybe, he’d never be better than jun...

when the episode ended, it took a moment before you stood up and clapped. tenma followed along, but all he could think about was how he let you down. not only as chan, but as your boy, too

when you two left the room, you two hung back to watch as everyone congratulated one another on the success of the production. in the midst of the cheer and celebration, tenma felt small as he watched your blank expression

what did he do wrong? he put his best efforts into every scene; he might even say it was his best work yet. before he could apologize, you did the unthinkable: you roared

you jumped up into his face, holding your hands up like yuri did. when yuri did it, tenma didn’t feel a thing. but, when you did, tenma felt it. the butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he stared at you, frozen in place

“this is the part where you ask me to do it again.” you shyly trailed off, about to put your hands down before tenma weakly put his hands up, knowing he was about to regret his next move (if the embarrassment didn’t kill him, he didn’t know what would)

“roar!”

that was too loud, wasn’t it? the room suddenly went a lot more quiet as they turned their attention towards a teen actor roaring at his date

“yah! why didn’t you ask me the next line?”

“b-because... i know i like you even without you doing, that, again.”

you paused, taken back by his honesty. as tenma contemplated just falling onto the floor right then and there, you suddenly hardened your expression, standing up straighter with your arms crossed

“do that again.”

“do what?”

“that thing.”

when tenma roared again, much quieter this time, you nodded as you finally smiled genuinely for the first time ever since that episode started

“good, i know how chan feels now. i like you, too.”

“does that mean i’m your favorite actor now?”

(when jun released a video of tenma roaring online, he captioned it with “ROAR = ILY!!!” tenma realized maybe he wasn’t all that bad, but still)

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Rewind Chapter 8 - It Gets Worse

We're coming into the endgame, boys! Not much more of the story to go. As always, hope you enjoy!

(I wrote this in a fit of inspiration and it hasn't had much editing, so let me know if you see a typo!)

______________________________________________________________

It took Ford a moment to realize he wasn’t in his body anymore.

He blinked his eyes open, groaning, foliage swimming above him. He couldn’t feel the snow gathering on his skin. He pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair-

And noticed that his body was still on the ground.

Ford cursed and scrambled away, hands scrabbling through snow without disturbing it. “No, no, no-” If he was out here, then Bill-

His body opened one yellow, slitted eye and grinned.

Ford jumped to his feet and stabbed a finger at the demon in his body and tried to control his trembling. “Get out of my body, you- you- monster!”

“Come on Sixer, be creative! Get some new insults.” Bill rose with unnatural jerky motions, one eye still closed and the other a jaundiced yellow. He dusted snow off Ford’s jacket. “Clumsy much? I had a whole plan to lure you outside the barrier but thanks to you fleshbags, I don’t even need it. A waste of perfectly good gasoline, is what I say.” He blinked with one eye, then opened the other one again with a laugh. “Ah, there’s the depth perception! You beings are so primitive.”

Ford ran a spectral hand through his spectral hair, panic rising in his throat and making him want to hurl, if spirits could throw up. “What’s your plan now? Fiddleford will stop you from sabotaging the portal, you can’t hide those eyes!”

“True.” Bill pulled himself to his feet. Even after weeks – months – of piloting Ford’s body he still looked just a little wrong, movements jerky like that of a marionette’s.

“Then – then what do you want from me?”

“What makes you think I want you?”

What? Of course Bill wanted him, Ford was the only one he needed for his plan! Besides, there was no one out here except for Ford, and-

And-

Oh. Oh no.

“You stay away from my brother!” Ford tried to dive back into his body but he merely went straight through. Bill laughed and dusted himself off.

“Jeez, Sixer, paranoid much? I’m not gonna hurt the little brat. Not right now, anyway.” He grinned too wide. It made his face look stretched and wrong. Ford threw a wild punch that phased right through him. Bill let out a laugh and started walking deeper into the forest, whistling a merry tune.

Ford ran.

He didn’t know what else to do – what could he do? He was a specter, only able to watch the proceedings in the physical plane. So he pelted away from Bill’s cheerful whistling in search of his brother. He had to – to warn Stan of what was coming, to do something.

Not having a physical form did have its advantages. Ford didn’t bother to duck around trees and brambles that were in his way. It was only a matter of time before he caught up with his twin. Stan hadn’t gotten far, after all.

“Stanley!” Ford rushed towards the boy-sized lump huddled against a tree trunk. His hand plunged right through Stan’s shaking shoulder. “Oh, curse it – Stan, listen to me! You’re in danger. Bill has my body and he’s coming after you, you have to move!”

Stan mumbled something and for one giddy moment Ford thought that he’d been heard, until he listened closer and understood the words.

“Stupid. Watcha gonna do now? Y’made both of ‘em mad atcha. Ruined everythin’ again. Ugh, what’s wrong with you?” Stan ground the heels of his palms into his eyes and hiccupped. Ford tried to grab his brother’s hands, but he only managed to grasp air.

“Stan – Stan, listen, please – oh, you’ve got to have something I can use!” He looked around for something he could use as a puppet, an avatar, anything. His search came up empty. Damn it, what could he do-

“Stanl-ley!”

 “Oh Stan-ley!”

Stan jerked up the sing-song voice in the distance. His feet hurt and his head was throbbing from crying and he was lost in the snow but that didn’t matter, not when he could hear his brother’s voice calling him. His brother who didn’t sound mad anymore!

“F-Ford?” His voice wavered. Dang it, he had to stop acting like a kid! “What are ya doing out here…? Ya came after me?”

Ford did care! He’d come for him! And by the tone of his voice he didn’t seem mad, either. Stan almost tripped in his haste to get to his feet. He scrubbed at his face to get rid of the tear tracks before Ford could see how much of a baby he was being.

Heavy footsteps sounded through the bushes nearby. Why hadn’t Ford called out again? Maybe he was still mad? Stan had hit him, after all.

“I, I’m sorry I was stupid!” Stan searched frantically for his brother in the trees. “I promise I won’t touch your lab space anymore. I’ll be good!”

There! Stan bolted towards the familiar figure that had finally came into view. Ford laughed and knelt down to catch him, holding tight as Stan buried his face in his twin’s coat. Stan sniffled and tried to stop himself from crying again.

“You… you’re not mad at me?”

“Stanley.” Ford pulled back to smile at him reassuringly. “Of course I’m not mad. I’ve long since stopped expecting you to be anything but a dead weight.”

Stan stiffened. His brother’s arms suddenly felt a lot less warm and comforting. He forced a brittle smile. “…what?”

“You were just messing things up like you always do.” Ford continued conversationally. Stan tried to pull away but Ford’s grip was like iron, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises.

Stan had gotten plenty of bruises before, but never six-fingered ones. He tugged against the hold, chest heaving with panic. “Let go – Ford, lemme go-”

Ford’s grip loosened, letting Stan yank back to fast that he slipped and hit the ground. He scrambled away from his brother, heart racing, as Ford stood. The man loomed over him.

“You know, it’s actually pretty funny.” Ford said as Stan got his frozen feet beneath him and stumbled backwards. Ford’s eyes looked almost yellow in the morning light, and the worst thing was that Stan couldn’t even see any anger in them. Just pleasantness, evident in his eyes and his smile. “How you destroy everything you come across.”

“Ford-”

“Like my science project!” Now, finally, Ford’s face twisted in anger. “I know you remember it, Stanley. I know you know what happened. Tell me, did you plan it in advance? Or was it a spur-of-the-moment sabotage?”

“I didn’t mean to break it!” Stan all but screamed. He balled up his tiny fists and shook. “I didn’t – I didn’t, I wouldn’t! You’re a liar! I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t!”

“Oh, but you did.” Ford snarled. “You did and you would do it again, and do you know why? Because you’re a parasite, Stanley. You’re a leech, and that’s all you’ll ever be.”

A breeze ruffled Ford’s hair but nothing else, like an intangible fist passed through his face. Stan’s eyes were too full of tears to see it. He could feel Ford’s eyes burning into him, stripping away his defenses and angry words, leaving nothing but the thought that maybe, just maybe, Ford was right.

“J-Just leave me alone!” Stan sniffled and scrubbed at the endless tears pouring down his face while Ford watched with a sneer. “G-Go away and – and-”

“And what? Go back to my project? Let you wander around, making even more messes for me to clean up? No, you’re coming with me.”

Ford reached for Stan’s arm but he yanked it back, stumbling away. Ford’s lip curled and he lunged.

Stan turned on his heel and bolted.

His heart pounded in his ears and breaths rasping in his throat, burning with cold. Ford shouted angrily after him but this time Stan didn’t stop.

He didn’t stop running when Ford faded out of sight, or when he stopped being able to feel his feet, or when he was gasping for breath. He didn’t stop until his chest burned like it was going to explode. Stan staggered to a stop, catching a tree to stop himself falling into the snow. The cold hair burned against his skin.

Why didn’t he bring any warm clothes? His teeth were chattering in his head, he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. His feet were blocks of ice and he was so, so tired.

Stan wanted to go home.

But Stanley pines never got what he wanted. Behind him, a low growl sounded.

Stan’s head whipped around to catch sight of the grey-furred creatures stalking towards him – three of them, ears pressed tight to their skulls and hair bristling, white teeth and yellow eyes glistening. Stan’s scream caught in his throat and came out as a squeak.

“Nice – nice doggies?”

The lead wolf let out a snarl. Stan crouched down and fumbled through the snow for a weapon, eyes pinned to the wolves. He grabbed something solid only for the chunk of snow to crumble in his grip.

What were you supposed to do with wolves? Play dead? Or was that bears? Make yourself bigger to scare them away?

One of the wolves tensed to lunge, but before either it or Stan could make a move a piercing whistle sounded. Stan clapped his hands over his ears to block out the ringing noise. One of the wolves leaned back on its haunches.

“Oi! Get away from that kid, you big lumps.” There was a flash of yellow and then something was floating between Stan and the wolves, making the creatures cower and whine. The giant yellow – dorito? – waved its hand, sending the wolves scattering like ants. They scampered into the undergrowth and were gone in seconds.

 Stan’s savior leaned forward, as if checking they were truly gone. Stan tried to step towards the floating thing but hissed as pain lanced through his feet. The triangle swung around. It looked… kinda ridiculous. One huge eye took up most of the space on its form with a little glowing bowtie pinned underneath, a tall tophat hovering above its highest point. Its voice reverberated in his head.

“You must be freezing your toes off! Here kid, on the house.” The triangle summoned a cane to its thin black hand with a flourish. Stan’s feet tingled.

He yelped as cloth wrapped around his feet, and before he knew it he was standing in a pair of thick, warm fur boots. The triangle’s eye crinkled up happily and he floated over.

“…cool.” Stan’s voice came out as more of a breath, and the triangle let out a laugh. It didn’t have a mouth to move but the sound echoed inside Stan’s skull, overlayed like a dozen people were speaking at once. A dozen nasally people.

“Don’t mention it! How ya doin’, kid? My name’s Bill.”

“…Bill?” Stan echoed, wiping half-frozen tears from his stinging face. The same sounded familiar.

“Yeah, that’s my name. Got a problem with it?”

“It’s just… ‘Bill’ is such a normal name. I thought wizard triangles would have fancier names. Like… Xanthar. Or something.”

Bill waved his hand dismissively, shrinking a little bit so that he could look Stan in the eye without his dangling feet touching the ground. “That one’s taken, but we’re getting sidetracked here. I’m no wizard, kid! I’m a muse!”

“What’s a muse?”

Bill let out a huff. “It’s a – you know what? Just think of me like a genie.”

“Holy – a genie?” Stan’s mind raced and he counted off on his fingers. “Okay, my first wish is to have a million dollars. No, a billion dollars! And then-” Bill clapped a hand over his mouth before he could continue. The skin had a weird texture, smooth and glossy like plastic.

“It doesn’t work like that, Stanny boy! You gotta make a deal. More of an ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine’ kinda thing. How about it?”

Making deals… Stan’s eyes widened with recognition and he batted the creature’s hand away.

“Hey, you’re no genie! You’re that Bill demon Ford was talking about!” He stabbed a finger accusingly at the creature, who tilted sideways with a little giggle.

“You got that right! I am a demon. But demons don’t all have to be bad, you know.”

Stan frowned. “Bad is exactly what demons are! You’re trying to hurt Ford!”

“I’m not trying to hurt him!” The demon pulled a hand to what could be its chest, lashes fluttering. “Stanford and I were old friends you know, before he betrayed me. He had the nerve to call me useless, you know. I’m sure you know how that feels.”

“Wha-”

Bill zipped forward to sling an arm around Stan’s shoulders, making him jump. “But you see, I’m actually pretty powerful! Enough to grant wishes, even. Not that Ford cares – he’s selfish, Stan. He’ll use you up until he has what he wants and then he’ll kick you to the curb, all in the name of ‘science’. No one knows that better than you and me.” Bill snapped his fingers. “Oh, I have an idea! Why don’t you make a deal with me? I could make all your dreams come true if you just ask!”

The demon spun away and extended an arm.

“So kid, waddya say?” Stan goggled at the cartoonish black hand stretched out towards him. Bill grinned a salesman’s grin – or as close to one as a triangle with no mouth and only one facial feature could.

“Ford said you trick people.” Stan protested, and Bill shrugged.

“Eh, nothing against old six-fingers, it’s just business. Or it was. See, that was before I knew we could join forces and both get what we want! Picture this, Staneroni – you open the portal and let me into this dimension, I get to start the party, and then I make you a whole new family! I’ll even throw in a Ford 2.0.”

“Uh, what-”

“The brother you’ve always wanted! A Ford that appreciates you, parents that love you, maybe even a promising career in treasure hunting?” Bill swooped down to elbow Stan playfully. “I’m like a genie in a bottle, kid, all you gotta do is let me outta the lamp. Then it’s sunshine and rainbows, or – whatever you fleshbags like. So, have we got a deal or what?”

Stan frowned, rubbing his cold nose. The demon’s words were quick and constant, and rung in his ears, making him dizzy. “What do you want in return?”

“Oh, just a little favour.” Bill seemed to be checking his nails, despite not having nails. “You know that big old machine in your brother’s basement? That’s a portal. Ford decided he didn’t need me anymore so he locked me out of this dimension. All I need is for you to open it so I can come back home!”

“But you’re here right now.” Stan argued. Bill rolled his eye.

“Not really, kid. I can interact with objects and make myself somewhat corporeal, but I don’t have a physical body! I’m weak like this. But if the portal was open and I could come through I would have all my power back! Enough power to give you anything you want.”

Stan’s heart was pounding in his head, making it hard to think. The triangle leaned towards him.

“What do you think, shortstack? I could give you ultimate power. Wanna be president? Or king? Your family would have to love you then! I could give you a new brother, heck, even a whole galaxy all of your own! All you gotta do is open one teensy little portal.”

“STAN!”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “My Beautiful Sun.”

And end to another arc. And yes I know I am better at writing angst than fluff, so if you guys want some fluff, I am going to need some recommendations or ideas . I hope you like it and I hope you have a great Thursday!

The space above fiery A136 was quiet, a marble of glass hung in a vacuum of darkness. Fire licked silently across the planet’s surface as rain clouds gathered along the border of light and dark. 

The star sone with increased intensity, white hot through the darkness. A myriad of satellites, space stations and the occasional abandoned mining ship orbited the planet systems of light blinking in the darkness.

One of these ships, a luxury civilian transport was on the bright side of its orbit, silhouetted against the fiery star=, the lines of white where the sun hit and pools of black where it did not, making a sharp contrast upon the face of the ship between light and dark.

It seemed a peaceful thing, hanging there in the darkness unsuspecting of thwart was to come.

ON the far edge of the planet’s orbit, there was a sudden whirling and a sharp flash of light as another ship appeared from the darkness.

It was hulking, massive, and painted black against the stars, only its blue highlight strips gave any indication there was a ship there at al. She crawled from the darkness stealthily slithering through the starry expanse until her shadow bore down on the unsuspecting ship.

***

Fiery starlight spilled in through the front window, tinted just enough that they were not completely blinded by its awful magnitude. A figure stood against the burning light, unmoving, arms crossed over his chest.

On his shoulder there sat a smaller figure all colorful fluff and impossibly large eyes.

“Lord Avex….”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Deploy the grapples… and don’t bother to be gentle about it.

***

Sunny sagged against her chains, her legs dumbed from the increased drugs. The dosage they had given her far outweigh any of the other doses that had come before, insuring that she would not move during the procedure. As limp as she was, she worried about her joints dislocating, as her shoulders were the only thing holding her up.

“Hold it steady.” The man ordered, and she could feel the cool, clammy tough of the man’s hand on her lower left arm as the last bit of her forearm carapace was stripped away. The cold was immediate and unpleasant, and the feel of the air against her bare skin made her want to scratch it off. It was a horrible sensation that she detested immediately.

Looking down at her arm, the only thing left there was the grey, gore stained skin cut with abrasions and pale from never having seen the light . The  sight made her sick, as hideous as it was, and she used the last of her strength to turn her head away.

The man held up what was left of the carapace, “Ah, that should be enough for three vials, don’t you think? He walked across the room, and Sunny watched in hopeless anger as he fed her shining armor into the machine, grinding it into powder right there before her eyes. From there it dripped down into three bottles, and held them up to the light, “A little less than I thought we would get, But it should be enough.”

He walked back over the the fancy woman and handed her the vials, which she looked down at with distaste.”

“Is something wrong ma’am.”

She turned to look up at him as if that had been a stupid question, “Not as much as you were expecting? That sounds like you are short changing me. When I came here for three vials.I wanted three vials of the promised size, not a little less than what we were hoping for.”

The man held up his hands in a defensive way, “Ok ok, my apologies. We will get you some more.”

He turned to look at Sunny, and she knew what was coming next.

The circular saw blade began to spin slowly as his partner held it at the ready, lowering his goggles down over his face.

And then the ship jolted violentl.

The man pitched forward, nearly imbedding the circular saw tool in his own face, but catching himself at the last minute. The fancy woman keeled over backwards and hit the floor hard as her shoes unbalanced her, and the third man slammed sideways into the chains, releasing the mechanism that held her up, and causing her to fall to the floor. She didn’t really feel much when she hit, she hadn’t been all that high up anyway.

Out of all of them, her descent to the floor had been the least violent.

One of the men stood, “What the hell was that!”

The massive clatter of metal, was accompanied by the groaning of the ships hull which deflected and popped against the weight of something. Sirens began to go off overhead as the two men leaped to their feet, while the fancy woman struggled just to make it to her knees.

One of them raced over to the coms and slammed their fist against it, “What’s going on up there.”

There was no answer for a long moment before, “We are being boarded, sir!” The voice was frantic, and on the other end of the line Sunny could hear more metallic screeching.

The ship continued to vibrate and scream as the group of men staggered their way across the floor.

Sunny tried to lift her head, but didn’t have the strength.

Her mind moved slowly.

Being boarded.

Could it be?

But no…. That was too much to hope for…. Wasn’t it?

Next to her the other Drev shifted and lifted their heads.

The man pressed the comm again, “Someone do SOMETHING.”

“We can’t, sir they have shielding.”

“Than get rid of their shielding!”

The man on the other end of the line went quiet, “We aren’t going to win this one boss.

“Get the escape pods ready then.” She snarled.

“I can’t sir, its a magnetic grapple field, so nothing is getting out of this.

 THe man howled in frustration.

There was a sharp thud on the outside.

“How could they even get in?” one of the men wondered, “There is no outside access to the airlock.”

Just then another voice came over the line, “Sir, sir something has taken over out internal computer systems…. I I don’t know what it is but I….”

There was a loud THUD from somewhere below them.

“The airlock!” someone yelled 

And that was when Sunny began to laugh. It was so startling, that the entire room went quiet as they turned to look at her. She wasn’t really amused, but there was a part of her, one that was very smug about what she was sure was soon to happen.

“What are you laughing about, scarab.”

She continued to laugh for a long moment, “You’re fucked.”

“What is she talking about.” The woman demanded.

Sunny laughed again, “I know whose ship that is.” 

More laughter

The men looked concerned. One of them pointed the circular saw blade at her, “Tell us!”

She giggled manically, “That’s the Omen.”

“What do you mean the Omen.” The man said nervously, shuffling his feet, “I mean you dim bastard THE omen. The pride of the UNSC fleet…. Captained b Admiral vir and a crew of a thousand men and aliens. Celzex weapons, Vrul shields…. And GRAVITY enabled grappling fields.” She began to laugh again.

“He’s coming…. Hes coming.”

Her manic laughter had clearly unsettled then, and her warning made it all the worse.

“Someone…..I, give me the damn blowtorch.” 

Once given his prize, he thrust it at one of the other men and pointed towards the door. Outside Sunny was just beginning to hear the sounds of distant carnage, “Weld it shut!”

WHen the man didn’t move at first he nearly went ballistic, “DO IT NOW.”

Sunny began to laugh again.

The man still holding the saw blade turned to look at her, viciously kicking her in the side, “Shut up scarab.”

The man at the door was having a tough time getting the idea to work, and with everyone screaming at  him and his hands shaking, it was doing no real good. 

That was probably why the door didn’t last more than a few microseconds. With a loud screech and thunderous bang the door was ripped off its tracks. The six inch thick metal door, not just dented open or blown inward, but kicked out of its brackets and completely detached from the wall all together, with such a powerful force, it slammed into the first man and sent him back gnarly three feet, slamming into the floor, unmoving.

When the sparks settled, and the room quiet, Sunny heard the hydraulic whirr and hiss as two feet clattered against the floor.

Smoke from out in the hallway filtered in through the floor as the figure stood at the door.

The first human, the one at the intercom, raced forward, a steel pipe having appeared in his hands some minutes ago. He swung it at the newcomers head, but it was useless, he cot the steel pipe with the queal of metal against metal, forearm to pipe, and then ripped it backwards out of the man’s hands , sending him flailing to the floor.

The second man came at him with the only weapon left available: the whirring circular saw.

He caught that too on the metal of the exo skeleton and then droe it hard downward, sending the circular saw blade cutting right into the man’s foot and sticking him to the floor. The man screamed long and loud, but his attacker did not heed him, spinning once with a backhanded swing that sent the pipe careening into the other man’s head, with a violent THWACK.

The second man wrenched the saw blade from his foot with a roar of pain, but it was knocked aside and went clattering across the floor as he was punched in the sternum.

There was a sharp crunch as he went staggering backwards and hit the floor very still.

Behind him, a group of other figures poured into the room.

One figure, big and red, grabbed two humans by the backs of their coats and threw them into the nearby wall with a sharp clatter.

The original figure knelt on the floor fist drawn back, ready to send his fist through the man’s head.

“ADAM! HELP HER!”

His fist stopped and grew still. For a moment the man below him looked relieved, but with a sharp blow to the face he was knocked unconscious. 

Adam stood, blurry in her vision as he raced over to her side.

She heard the soft hissing of the Iron eye suit as he knelt next to her.

Strong hands and warm arms grasped around her chest and middle, hauling her partially upright where her head leaned against his chest. He held her tight, tight enough that it should have hurt but she didn’t care.

“Sunny…. Sunny can you hear me?” 

It echoed around and around inside her head.

Carnage nearly drowned him out.

A hand pressed against her cheek, “Sunny, Sunny please say something.”

Her head lolled against his chest as the light overhead faded in and out…

Her body, tense from a month of perpetual fear and anger slowly relaxed and she felt her body sliding downward before he caught her, holding her upright to sag against him.

For the first time in over a month, she was safe.

Her mind knew it.

And her body knew it.

So, it shut her off, allowed her some peace, in the arms of a person who wasn’t about to let anything more happen to her.

***

She didn’t feel the movement, wasn’t aware of the strong arms that carried her from the ship all on his own, wasn’t aware of the hushed voices and the quiet whispering. Wasn’t aware of the days that went by with her stillness and the waiting concern of those around her.

When she finally opened her eyes and awoke it was to soft beeping, and dim blue light. White curtains hung about her, over her head, and for a moment she wasn’t really sure where she was.

It wasn’t the sound at first but the sensations.

Something warm gripping her hand, and gripping it tight, and a soft caress over the skin of her exposed stomach, repeating circles, up the side down to the side and back.

She turned her head very slowly and groggily to the side.

At first she didn’t recognize the face of the man who sat next to her but as her slow brain caught up with her eyes she hummed in confusion and worry.

“Adam?”

The man lifted his head, turning to look at her. Scruffy, gaunt, and supporting about two weeks of growth on his chin and face, but when he smiled at her she knew for sure it was him, brighter than any light in this place. He rested a hand against the side of her face, “I…. i was worried…. You scared me.”

“Sorry” She muttered softly.

He brought his other hand up to the other side of her face leaning down to gently touch foreheads with her for a quiet moment, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it sooner.”

The pain in his eyes made her hurt just to watch and she shook her head, “An entire universe, and you still found me, considering you did it in a month is pretty impressive.”

He gave a weak smile. “If… If i had just been safer during the storm.”

She raised a hand, “Shh…. none of that.”

He trailed off and nodded sheepishly. He leaned forward, “I’m sorry, this… this isn’t about me…. How are you feeling?”

She shifted, and despite lethargy, she was at least able to move, “A bit…. Drugged.”

“Yeah, there were massive amount of paralysis in your system when we found you. Krill has been pulling the drugs out, but he says it may take a few weeks to get back to normal.”

Below her on the bed  She flex and unflexed her lower left hand. She wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to look, but she knew she had to. WHen she turned her head down she grew sick to her stomach. The hideous grey expanse of scarred up tissue and  disgusting pale skin. She turned her head away, but he caught her, hands to the side of her face again.

She let out a shaky breath

“Hey, hey, none of that…. Don’t even start.” One hand still on her cheek, he lowered the other and took her lower left hand in his, “This doesn’t change anything you hear me, nothing at all. Not about the way I feel, and certainly not about the way you should feel about  yourself ok….”

She struggled internally for a moment.

He squeezed her hand tighter, “No matter what, ok.:

She felt as he slid his hand down the inside of her wrist, resting his hand along the strange exposed skin of her forearm. It felt strange, unusual, tingly. It made her cringe thinking about touching it, but he didn’t flinch once, “Don’t you think for one minute that this makes you any less.” She stared into his face and he stared back with a conviction so strong she felt herself starting to believe.

His serious face was broken by a sudden smile, “Besides…. I…. I have something for you.”

The bright smile and excitement filtered over to her and she sat up against her pillows.

“I made it myself!” he announced with pleasure, pausing as he turned around with a box between his two hands.

“I….” He looked down a bit sheepishly, “Don’t laugh alright….. It was my first go but I… I wanted to make something….”

Sunny didn’t even have to see it to know she would love it anyway.

Slowly he handed to box over to her, and she lifted the lid.

Inside, was a polished metal vambrace made of shimmering blue metal flecked with little golden bits on the inside.

She stared.

“Do you like it…. I…. well I made it while you were sleeping,... i mean i would have stayed here if krill had let me, but he sort of forced me to leave and get some rest, of course I couldn’t sleep so I ended up down in your workshop instead, and I wasn’t really sure what to do, but I made this and I thought maybe it would help, and since I remembered that  there was a little bit of your dad’s carapace in my leg, I removed a little piece and used that inside the metal, and I’m sorry if that’s a bad thing or….” She gripped his hand to stop him from rambling.

“Can you, help me put it on.”

The relief on his face was so visible it was almost a sound, and he gently took the metal bracer from the box. He looked nervous as it snapped open and he situated her arm inside.

She had trouble looking at it, but his expression didn’t change once as his fingers brushed over the exposed skin.

The metal was cold against her arm.

He took a deep breath, and snapped the brase close with a sharp snap. 

The strange feeling of the room was now gone, and she was left only with the slowly warming underside of the metal, and the beautiful glittering of the Crude metalwork inlaid with pieces of her father’s carapace.

“Does it fit?”

She lifted her arm and turned it this way and that, admiring the shine of the metal.

She looked up at him, “Not bad…. Not bad at all.” 

He grinned, the relief still evident there. He pressed his forehead against hers for another quick moment before sitting back, “Now rest, or I’ll knock you out myself, you hear.”

She snorted but yawned, “I’d like to see you try.”

“If i can find one Drev in an entire universe, I’m pretty sure I could knock that same Drev unconscious, but whatever makes you feel better, Zhak, hijan chal.”

She closed her eyes.

And fell

Fast

Asleep

[go-dark-turtle]

(This is for @kakyoin-shades thank you so much for inspiring me. Anyhoo I hope you enjoy my first Jotaro x reader fan fiction. Let me know what you think. Thank you~ 😎)

Overdrive into Platinum

Jotaro x Gender Neutral reader fanfiction.

After the events of facing N'Doul, Kakyion had to spend time in the nearby hospital which meant the Stardust Crusaders were a member short. However it wasn't until Avdol received a telegram from his fromer shop assistant that they were in the area in the town outside of Luxor.

"Oi Avdol who exactly is this person?" Polnareff asked while placing his cheek on his palm leaning over the table to try and read the telegram.

Avdol placed the telegram in his chest pocket and gave the Frenchman a glare for trying to read it. He gently clasped his hands and softly spoke "Ah lets see well Y/N came to me about 4 years. They asked me for a reading. They wanted to know more about the world so I took them under my wing teaching everything I knew. Then a year later it was discovered they had a unique ability."

"So they are stand user?" Joseph asked while holding his cup.

"No, they use Hamon. I know now it's a very old practice..." Avdol nodded

"That can't be, the only Hamon users left are myself and my mother..." Joseph scratched his chin trying to figure it out "The Hamon tribe was wiped out after I defeated Straizo..."

Just then you walked into the cafe and smiled at Avdol and charged at him and pinned him against the table glaring down at him. "Long time no see Avdol ha ha ha ha ha!"

"What the heck Y/N! What in the world has gotten into you." Avdol struggled to get you off him.

Jotaro walked up behind you and pried you off Avdol and holding your arm and looked at your face. " Listen here, I don't know who you think you are, but pulling this sort of shit off isn't funny."

You grunted and glared at the young teen and took a deep breath. "KWOOOOOOOO"

"Watch out Jotaro! KWOOOOOO" Joseph tackled his grandson to the ground and used his hamon to deflect yours.

"Ah if it isn't Mr Joestar, HA HA HA HA, Oh it's going to be an absolute pleasure taking you out." You cackled at the older gentleman.

Polnareff ran over to Avdol and helped him up while Jotaro dusted himself down and marched up to you and used Star Platinum to hold you down to the ground, you struggled against the invisible grip and grunted and growled knowing you couldn't move against his tight grip. His aqua eyes scanned over your face and that's when he nodded to his grandfather who took the place of Star Platinum to hold you down. Jotaro held your cheeks and Star Platinum brushed your fringe back and right in the centre of your forehead a fleshbud.

"ORA!" Star platinum yanked it out at full force.

"YUCK!" Joseph used a hamon kick to make the fleshbud into dust.

You sat up and held your face like you woke up from a dream and you noticed Avdol.

"Mr Avdol, I am so sorry. I... I was too weak to overcome him..." You rushed to his side and placed your hand on his and bowed in his presence.

"Y/N, Im so sorry you were under his control...how did it happen?" Avdol placed his other hand on yours and looked at you.

"2 years ago, after discovering my hamon powers I began to research my past a little. But I only got so far, the records of my grandfather and before him were gone from all existence. That's when that night I came back to your shop to ask more but Dio was there outside of your shop. standing there in the dimly lit street his skin was so white and eerie looking I was frozen on the spot unable to do anything. His voice was so calm and yet I felt more terrified. The last words I heard before under his control was 'It's ironic that a Hamon user is under my spell.' Mr Avdol I'm so ashamed of myself I let him take over." You hung your head in shame.

"Y/N, I am to blame if I had run the other way that night I could have saved you from that terrible and terrifying encounter. Please don't feel ashamed, he is a terrifying monster." Avdol patted your shoulder "But what matters is now you are safe with us, Y/N these are my friends Mr Joestar, Jotaro and Polnareff, everyone this is Y/N."

Everyone except Jotaro shook your hand and when you approached him with an open hand he smacked it away and walked outside to have a smoke.

"Ah don't mind my grandson Y/N he keeps himself to himself dont take it personally. So you are a Hamon user? I don't understand how that can be. The Hamon race died out a long time ago." Joseph tiled his head in confusion.

"Well I only got to meet grandma Zeppeli once before she passed on but she didn't say anything about Hamon..." You smile at the memory.

"ZEPPELI?! OH MY GOD! Now it all makes sense." He laughed and ruffled your hair and cried a little "My old training partner Ceaser, he's your grandfather... I had a feeling he had a girlfriend on the side back then, heh heh I miss the training days."

Jotaro walked back in and saw you and his grandfather laughing and chatting, he glared even more and pushed you aside. "Don't think that because you're free from Dio's control we can be friends. The others might not see it but I'm still suspicious of you!"

"Jotaro would you calm down, they are actually more connected to us more than you think. Caesar, my old training buddy, was their grandfather...." Joseph folded his arms at his grandson .

"I dont care, I still don't like them." Jotaro glared at you and sat down to join Avdol and Polnareff having a cup of tea.

You put your hands on your hips and shook your head at how disrespectful he was not just to you but to his own flesh and blood.

***Later at the hotel***

There were only 3 rooms available and Polnareff was insistent he had his own room. As much as Joseph was up for sharing with Jotaro, Avdol voted against it and went with him. That ment by default you shared a room with Jotaro, thankfully the room you two were put in had a bunkbed and a bit of space to sit and watch TV. Joseph and Avdol's room were a few doors down from you both. But due to single rooms being smaller Polnareff's room was directly belows yours.

"Good night Mr Joestar, Avdol, Jotaro and Y/N. Hey and you two don't you be fighting all night I need my beauty sleep." The Frenchman spun his key around his finger and headed down to the second floor.

You both glared at the tall haired man but then followed the older gents down the hallway, you stopped with them as Jotaro carried on to the room.

"Ah this is our spot good night Y/N if you need me or Mr Joestar just come on by." Avdol smiled.

Joseph smiled at you both "Now listen up you two, we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow so get some rest okay." You smiled and waved them good night before catching up to Jotaro.

"Ugh what a pain..." He gritted his teeth and opened the door knowing tonight was going to be a rough and challenging night.

"Oh wow what a lovely room." You looked all around the room " Ah I want top bunk."

"No top bunk is mine, back off." Jotaro started to climb the ladder

"I called it first." You janked the back of his belt

"Dont touch me...." Jotaro turned around and towered over you and backed you into the wall.

"Ah I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you can have the top bunk just dont hurt me.. " You felt helpless in his icy glare.

He huffed and climbed up the ladder to place down his rucksack while you sank to the floor and sighed with relief and closed your eyes.

PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSCH!

Your eyes widened and you looked over and noticed he helped himself to one of the beers in the fridge without asking permission.

"Hey! You should ask before opening that!" You sprung to your feet and pointed at him

"Pfft, I don't need to listen to someone like you." He shrugged and proceeded to bring the can to his lips.

You shook your head in disbelief and held the can "KWOOOOOOOOOO!" you breathed deeply.

You smirked as the liquid inside came out like a big blob and encased itself around your finger and you walked towards the door.

"Oi gimme that back." Jotaro marched up behind you.

"You need to ask permission first..." You smirked more turning the doorknob and the door opened ajar.

Jotaro slammed his hand on the door and forced it to slam again. You looked up at him and you sighed.

"Fine if you really want it back then here take it!" You charged Hamon through the liquid, but due to the force of the Hamon charged it exploded over his jacket and forced him backwards in shock.

"Ugh... oh you are going to pay for that. Star Platinum." Jotaro threw off his jacket and clenched his first and glared at you more.

"Oh you wanna fight then alright. KWOOOOOOOO!" You charged Hamon in your fists and watched him approach you. (ha ha yes he is approaching you lol)

He was getting closer and that's when you smirked knowing you had the upper hand.

"OVERDRIVE!!!!!!" You punched his stomach and he landed on the floor.

You stepped forward and nudged him while he was paralaysed on the floor. He looked up at you and realised how strong you were and gritted his teeth and charged Star Platinum at you and pinned you against the wall which caused you to hurt your back being slammed so suddenly.

"WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?" Joseph slammed the door opened and saw you pinned against the wall by Star platinum and Jotaro was on the floor stunned by hamon. "Y/N! JOTARO! I WANT AN EXPLANATION NOW!"

You both started to bicker and talked over each other and Joseph held his hand up "I don't want to hear anymore pettiness. You are supposed to be a team. Now stop all this fighting and for the love of hermit purple get some bloody sleep. Avdol and myself could hear you fighting all the way down the hallway. Just be thankful he's not in here otherwise you'd both be sorry. Now make up and get some rest."

Joseph left the room and Jotaro called back his stand and you fell to the floor. " I'm sorry Jotaro, I didn't mean for your jacket to get drenched in beer." You crawled over to him and used Hamon to get rid of his paralysed state before dusting yourself down and standing up.

"Y/N I'm sorry too, are you okay?" Jotaro stood up and looked to the floor not wanting to make eye contact.

"I'll be fine, what about you? I just sent Hamon on your stomach. I hope it didn't leave a mark..." You felt bad and clenched your fists nervously.

"Ah I wouldn't worry about that, the old man is right let's get some sleep, ugh...." Jotaro turned to climb up the bunk bed and that's when he realised his abs felt like a thousand bruises all appeared at once.

He lifted his tank top and saw a huge burn mark left by the Hamon. Your eyes widened and you dashed to the bathroom, you grabbed a face cloth and some badges from the first aid kit and encouraged him to sit down.

"Y/N thank you..." He smiled softly at you.

You nodded and placed the wet cloth on the burn and wrapped the bandage around his waist making sure it was secure.

"There we go all fixed. Again I'm so sorry I've never been in a fight before so I have no idea how strong my powers are really..." You looked down and admitted

"Until today you've...never been in a fight? I...I feel such a dick... Y/N I was so angry hearing you are a Hamon user and letting Dio take over you so easily. I started to blame you for this mess with Dio, but you aren't to blame at all. You were all alone in the dark unable to ask for help, of course you would be terrified.... Y/N I hope you can forgive me." Jotaro looked up at you with such sad eyes.

You nodded " It's okay, Jotaro I forgive you. I understand now why you were so hostile towards me. Friends?" You held out your hand.

He nodded "Friends!" He shook your hand and smiled softly. "Anyway I'm going to sleep now."

"Good night Jotaro." You smile at him.

You turned off the light and switched on the lamp on the table in the corner by your bottom bunk and you smiled and grabbed another beer can and quietly charged Hamon through it and walked over to the bunk bed and smirked while using your powers to make the can float up to him. It nudged his arm and he opened his eyes and shifted towards the edge of the bed and saw you tap your nose and place your finger over your lips.

"Our secret" You whispered

Jotaro smirked and opened the can and took a sip while adjusting himself to look up at the ceiling. You got into the bottom bunk and leaned over to turn off the light, jotaro finished his beer and used Star Platinum to gently place it in the bin. He shifted himself to nestle into bed and that's when his eyes sprung open with the realisation his heart started to race and his cheeks flared up. He tried to shake off the feeling but then he took a deep breath and leaned over the bunk bed railing carefully seeing you sleep soundly and softly, the feelings got stronger and his heart raced even more. He sat back up and closed his eyes and shrugged it off and fell asleep.

*** The next morning***

You and Jotaro went out shopping to get a few bits for breakfast to eat on the train to Luxor, the streets were bustling with vendors on every street and cars drove in the streets. Jotaro was very quiet and you wondered if his injury was worse than you thought.

You looked up at him as he looked forward to the busy street you grew more and more concerned, but you took in his features, his dark hair and his aqua coloured eyes, the more you looked up at him you soon realised you started to blush. You were lost in his beauty and at that moment you were about to open your mouth to ask him if everything was okay but,

"Y/N watch out!" He pushed you into an alleyway

You both landed with a thud and you could hear a truck drive by with police cars chasing after it.

"Y/N are you okay? You aren't hurt are you?" Jotaro held your side.

You blinked a few times and realised that everything happened so quickly, you looked down at your side and saw he was holding onto your waist and saved you from falling onto the ground. You looked up at him and smiled and nodded.

"Ah sorry Jotaro thank you i wasn't paying attention...." You leaned your back against the wall.

He sat next to you and sighed with concern "You did seem a little spaced out, I hope it's not from our fight from last night..."

"Ah no no not at all. We are cool? friends right?" You shyly smiled at him

"Of course Y/N." He smiled back.

He tried to stand up but his hand brushed against yours and he gasped and his face lit up

"Shit sorry I didn't mean..." He was a little flustered.

"Ah, I'm sorry did I hurt your wound?" You looked at his flustered state.

"No, I mean yes, I mean we should get going... yare yare daze..." He slid his body up the wall and he pulled down his hat.

"Jotaro, are you honestly okay?" You tilted your head at him.

"Y/N... " He tipped his hat up and you saw his bright red blush on his cheeks.

"Whoa Jotaro are you...." Your eyes widen and you also blushed seeing him stand there in a shy state.

He looked down and reached for your hand and held onto it softly blushing like crazy and pouting the entire time.

"Y/N yes I am. anyway we should go..." he held your hand a little tighter and walked beside you.

You smiled and enjoyed the feeling of his warm hand holding yours so softly.

"Ah Y/N I never got to thank you properly for fixing me up last night." He smiled at you, his eyes shining with joy.

You waved your other hand as you were nearing the end of the alleyway "You don't need to do anything Jot..."

He leaned to your side and placed a soft kiss on your cheek he smiled and then within minutes you were back in the streets, your face was beaming red.

"Oh there you two are.... Oh?! O la la~" Polnareff noticed you both holding hands " Tres bien! Oooooohhh wait until Mr Joestar and Avdol hear about this!"

"Ah don't you dare tell Mr Avdol!" You pouted at him

"You dare tell the old man.... I'll never hear the end of it..." Jotaro pointed at him.

"OOOOOOHHHHHH~ Hey Mr Joestar Avdol guess what!" Polnareff started to run up to the train station.

"Polnareff! get back here!" You ran beside Jotaro and chased the Frenchman

"Yare yare daze..." Jotaro sighed and used Star Platinum to trip him up.

You both looked down at the Frenchman and pointed at him.

"You say anything about us to the old man or Avdol and I swear your head will be as smooth as a baby's butt got it!" Jotaro glared down at him.

"And I'll use Hamon to make sure it doesn't grow back. got it!" You huffed at him.

"Ahhh yep got it.. got it... ha ha ha.." Polnareff gulped and nervously giggled.

"Good." Jotaro smirked.

"Glad we agreed on something eh Jotaro." You laugh.

You both giggle as you board the train with Joseph and Avdol confused why Polnareff is on the ground.

THE END!

[notchesandbullets]

Ryokuryuu’s Lifeline

Part 8: Taking Back What is His

Jae-ha's nostrils flared as he saw your still form crumpled on the deck. "I'm not virtuous enough to go easy on the men who have hurt her."

His eyes darkened as they landed on your iron cuffs and he saw red. Jae-ha sprang at the mercenaries, kicking three of them back several feet and most definitely injuring them beyond repair. Jae-ha had picked you up tenderly, jaw locking in rage as you barely moved.

Whatever you had gone through, you had reached your limit.

But then, he felt it.

The feathery light brush of your finger against his wrist.

One finger.

Jae-ha's eyes turned pitch black, and he grinned manically at the mercenaries who approached you.

He was going to kill all of them.

You stirred, right eye refusing to open, swelled shut and blinked the other lazily at him as he slowly came into focus.

"Jae-ha?" You couldn't believe he was really here. His leg delivered a roundhouse kick, tearing apart anyone who dared get within a three foot radius of you.

"Jae-ha!" Your throat felt like sandpaper, but he somehow managed to hear you. "My feet..."

He knew what you meant and set you down, bringing his dragon leg down viciously, breaking the chain that bound the cuffs together,  which finally enabled you to move your feet freely. Jae-ha motioned for you to place your hands down so he could do the same to those set of bonds, but you shook your head adamantly.

You didn't have time to explain.

A mercenary appeared behind Jae-ha and you darted forward, pushing him out of the way. You  brought up your hands to block his strike from hitting you, the chain halting his sword in mid-air.

You stepped back and twisted your arms, using the chain to dislodge the deadly weapon from his grasp. Then, you kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. Hard.

Panting heavily, you rested your hands on your knees. Jae-ha had grown occupied with several other mercenaries whose numbers were rapidly increasing, but he kept looking over his shoulder to see if you were alright, causing him to nearly get stabbed several times due to the distraction. Your eyes widened as they found the beaten princess and a bloody boy on the other side of the ship.

Yona had freed Yoon from the rope, but mercenaries were converging on them from all sides. You opened your mouth in a soundless scream as you reached out for them, too far away to do anything.

"Yona! Kid!" Jae-ha shouted, gritting his teeth in exertion as he struggled to push past the numbers that were overwhelming him.

Then, suddenly they were cut down. Out of nowhere, a familiar blue dragon landed, white fur streaming out behind him.

"Shin-ah!" Yona cried out, relieved to see her companion.

Jae-ha ushered Yoon and Yona to a blind spot away from the fighting, and you followed, positioning yourself beside them as Shin-ah moved to clear the fighters who had started coming over from the next ship.

A metallic green sheen caught Jae-ha's eye and he felt a sliver of pride shiver down his spine as his eyes landed on the mast of the ship next to them.

You pulled it off, huh? Pretty impressive, Y/N... He thought, trying to conceal just how truly terrified he was for you. You were shaking with exhaustion, blood trickling down your forehead and he could not stand the sight of those damn cuffs on you.

His lips curled back in a feral snarl, a burst of adrenaline coursing through him as he joined the swordsman's side, and jumped back into the fray.

You'd better not die on me, Y/N.

You stood up, legs trembling as you assessed the dire situation around you. Your pirate brothers were scattered around the other ships, laying waste to them everywhere they went, but you were still outnumbered on this ship. Yang Kum-ji had an extraordinary number of mercenaries guarding his ship and they were all flooding over to yours.

"Stay here." You instructed Yoon who nodded, placing a protective arm in front of Yona. You missed the merciless rage in her eyes as you readied your stance. Your restrained hands and exhaustion would slow you down, but hopefully with what little strength you had left, it would be enough to keep the mercenaries at bay until Jae-ha found Kum-ji.

You dove into the fight, avoiding the strikes aimed for you as you went, but you were too slow, causing numerous cuts to appear on your arms and legs in seconds. You managed to deflect all of the lethal blows, using the cuffs as a shield to block their attacks.

One by one, the mercenaries were defeated on your ship, and you ushered Shin-ah across to the other ship before kicking the ladder into the water. No one else could get through.

Now, it was up to Jae-ha to end it.

The torrent of mercenaries was thick on the other ship, and the green dragon gritted his teeth when he failed to push through them all. Shin-ah was by his side in a second, striking down anyone that got in his way and Jae-ha gave him a nod of thanks.

Yang Kum-ji was on this ship, and Jae-ha was going to murder him. He was going to make sure that man felt every ounce of pain he had inflicted on you and those other girls before watching him stick a knife through his brain.

But when he reached the hidden room at the back, there was no one there.

Yang Kum-ji was gone.

Jae-ha rushed back on deck, which had been cleared of the rest of the mercenaries thanks to Shin-ah, and saw that Kum-ji was trying to escape by boat.

"Using a subordinate to escape, that's not very pretty, is it?" He declared, leaping off of the rail, and soared directly towards the man who had a cunning smirk on his face as Jae-ha descended upon him.

You gasped, leaning over the railing desperately, he was going to shoot Jae-ha down!

"JAE-HA!!!" You screamed, and he faltered at the anguish in your voice.

He threw his knives at Kum-ji the same time the lord released an arrow. Kum-ji ducked his head to the side, and Jae-ha's knives missed, but the arrow didn't.

It tore clean through Jae-ha's shoulder, sending him tumbling down into the ocean.

You didn't think, jumping clear over the side of the ship and desperately swimming towards him.

Jae-ha was panting, clutching his bleeding shoulder as he bobbed in the water, and Kum-ji nocked another arrow. You swum around Jae-ha, moving in between them to shield your dragon. Your eyes blazed with fury and Kum-ji grinned maliciously at you, aiming directly at your chest. Your raised your head daringly, mouth pressed in a hard line. You weren't there for long, though, as Jae-ha shoved you behind him, blocking Kum-ji from your vision.

"No!" You yelled, trying and failing to push past him as he held you by your wrists; legs frantically churning in the water to keep you afloat and somehow propel you forward at the same time.

Jae-ha wrapped his arms tight around you, covering you from Kum-ji's line of sight. He knew the lord had an arrow trained on his back. "What the hell are you doing?! I almost lost you once, you really think I'm going to let you die now?!" You saw in the depths of his violet eyes just how much he was hurting, how much he believed he failed you.

Then, Kum-ji stopped, releasing the tension on the bowstring without firing it. It clattered to the bottom of the boat with a resounding 'thud'. He grabbed at his chest, eyes wide with undeniable fear.

Yona's ruthless gaze locked on him, eyes burning with ferocious fire. You watched in amazement as she released her arrow, hitting Kum-ji dead in the heart. He fell backwards, into the ocean, and the water rippled where he had fallen only moments before.

As the adrenaline faded, you stopped treading water and the waves almost swallowing you. Jae-ha barely grabbed onto you in time.

"Y/N?!" You faintly heard him shouting at you to stay awake. "Focus on me! No, no, don't close your eyes! Y/N!!"

Your lips parted slightly. "Ah...sorry, Jae-ha, looks like I won't be able to be there by you anymore..."

///

You opened your eyes with a groan, the sun peeking in through the window momentarily blinding you.

You were... back on the ship?

Your hands immediately went to your wrists, blinking when you didn't feel iron. Instead, you felt soft cotton wrapped around your wrists. Bringing an arm up, you inspected the handiwork.

"I thought about what I wanted to say to you once you finally woke up." Came a quiet voice beside you, and you turned your head, startled. Jae-ha had his arms crossed over his chest, and you noticed blood seeping through his robes by the shoulder.

"If you woke up." He articulated, hurt underlying his tone.

You stared down at your hands folded in your lap. "What did you decide on?" You asked tentatively, not really wanting to know.

"This."

He crushed you in a hug, being mindful of your multiple injuries. You squeaked, arms automatically going up to wrap around the back of his neck, but you brought them back down abruptly as your body screamed in protest at the movement. His face was buried in the crook of your neck and his heavy breath tickled your skin, causing your body to flush.

"Jae-ha," You gripped him as tightly as you could, as tears started to fall down your face. "I am so sorry!! I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to go!! I had to!! I know I made my choice and that I probably lost you because of it, but I'm selfish and I don't want you to leave!! What can I do to earn your forgiveness? I'll do anything, Jae-ha, please-!"

He brushed the hair away from your eyes, as he pulled back. Then, his lips collided with yours, stopping you mid-rant. Jae-ha maneuvered himself above you, not breaking the kiss, careful not to crush you under his weight, stumbling when he felt you try to pull him closer.

"Jae-ha," You panted as you broke the kiss, coming up for air, and a low growl emitted from the back of his throat. Smashing his lips to yours again, his arms rested on either side of you, propping him up. You squeezed your eyes shut when he pulled away from your lips, trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck. The only sounds that filled the room was your heavy breathing and his mouth smacking against your skin.

"Wait, J-Jae-ha...you're hurt." You tried pushing him back by the shoulders, only to pull back in horror as he winced and your hand came away bloody. "Let me treat you."

There was an excessive amount of medical supplies in your room and you suspected that it had something to do with Yoon. Jae-ha took a seat on the bed after taking off his robe, knee bouncing as he watched you slowly collect what you needed. "You need to rest, Y/N, you're in no position to be moving around." He scolded you, lightly.

You sighed, heart filled with guilt as he tried acting like everything was fine between the two of you, blushing as you turned around to see his upper body bare.

You finally reached him after a moment to gather yourself at the sight, setting down the bandages and antiseptic beside him slowly pressing two fingers to the inside of his wrist, leaning down to rest your forehead on his.

You situated yourself on his lap, legs on either side of him and you swore he blushed, but it was impossible to tell for sure in the dimly lit room. Jae-ha curved his uninjured arm around your waist, steadying you as you set to work. You cleaned his would, murmuring apologies as he flinched from the sting.  You furrowed your brow, it looked pretty deep, you didn't know if it needed stitches or not, but you would ask Yoon as soon as you got out of the cabin. For now, you packed the wound to stop the bleeding. Carefully, you began to bandage it in soft cotton when it was sufficiently clear of blood.

Jae-ha studied you closely as you worked, noticing you had your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth, making him want to kiss you again. Instead, his head fell to your chest, and he pulled back as you sputtered in surprise.

"Sorry, sorry..."

He was so tired, his eyes could barely stay open and it didn't help that your touch was so calming. It felt like it was lighting him on fire and sending him under all at the same time. You finished wrapping his shoulder, tucking the end underneath to secure it.

"Jae-ha-" You gathered your courage as you regarded him sadly.

"Are you going to leave me again?" He interrupted and you jolted up, almost hitting his chin.

"No!!"

"Then you don't need to explain." He mumbled into your ear, pulling you to him again.

You sighed, "Yes, I do." He peered at you curiously as you pushed yourself away from him, maintaining a small amount of distance between the two of you.

You fiddled with your fingers, taking notice of your bandaged knuckles for the first time. "I owe you an explanation, a real one."

Jae-ha stared at you, waiting for you to continue.

You took a deep breath, and he drew small circles into your sides. "I've always felt so ashamed of my past, I felt weak, like nothing I could ever do would ever be enough. That it wouldn't change anything. You helped me conquer that mindset long ago, but lately, it's almost been as though I rely on you too much and it sort of came back."

You exhaled shakily. "I got too caught up in it, and I didn't know how to stop it on my own. I wanted to help them because of what I went through. I wanted to be there to protect Yoon and Yona if things went south. But I also wanted to finally face Kum-ji, the man who had me chained in that alleyway for probably over a year."

His grip tightened on your waist at that and you clutched his arms. "I wanted to be able to do something to help in a way that only I could. I wanted to face my demons." You finished.

Seconds ticked by, and you grew increasingly nervous as Jae-ha stayed silent.

"Jae-ha?" You prompted nervously.

"You think I wouldn't have let you go?" You froze at that, but he carried on, "You're probably right, I wouldn't have wanted you to. I didn't want you to. But you're also wrong. I do want you to rely on me. I want to be the only person that you rely on like that, because of how intimate it feels to me, how close I feel to you when you choose me over everyone else to keep you grounded and safe."

He leaned his forehead against yours and you swore your heart was beating out of your chest at his reassuring words. "I don't know what I would've done if you told me. Probably kept you here so you couldn't go, but that's not right either, no matter how hard it was for me to admit it."

Jae-ha took a deep breath. "I want to see you grow, to face your demons and win, but I want to be there. Please," His head dropped, "Let me be there for you next time."

You sniffled and embraced him cautiously. "Do you have any idea how terrifying it was for me to find you chained? Just like when I first found you?" The pain was unmistakable in his voice.

Jae-ha didn't stop. "Bleeding from your head with bruises all over you body. I thought you were dead. I thought I lost you, and then just when I thought I was going to die, you came in to try and save me again."

"I want to be the one to save you. I want to be the one to keep you safe, away from harm so that nothing ever hurts you again. Haven't you endured more than enough pain for one lifetime?" His voice broke and you swallowed thickly.

"Please," He pleaded, "Just tell me next time, I swear I'll keep distance if that's what you want, but how can I pull you out if it gets to be too much if I'm not there? Please, I love you too much to let you go stubbornly headfirst into trouble without a damn good fight."

Your heart stopped.

He... loved you...

Pain dulled into the background as you connected your lips to his, pouring all of your passion, your regret, and your love into it. Everything that you couldn't say. He moaned into your mouth, returning it wholeheartedly. You arched into his touch as his hands wandered, one coming up to cup your jaw as he fell backwards into the bed, the other splayed firmly on your hip. His body was hot underneath you, lighting you on fire.

"Jae-ha...please forgive me." You begged from above him and he kissed you over and over again. You fell limp in his arms as the stimulation overwhelmed your senses.

"Always will..." He groaned as you keened into his hands as he kneaded your flesh. "Always will for you. I forgive you. I love you."

The proclamation made your head spin wildly. "Jae-ha..." You breathed, "I love you."

He felt his heart fly higher than he ever could with his dragon leg. He peppered light kisses all over your face, any inch of skin he could reach and you giggled. Your mouth parted in a gasp and your eyes closed blissfully as he sucked your neck harshly, before laving over the mark with his tongue lovingly.

He looked at you with adoration as you opened your eyes. "Mine." He growled playfully, arm tightening around your back.

You nudged his jaw with your nose. "Yours." You whispered and he shivered at that. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before sitting up, chuckling as you yelped, hands scrambling to find purchase, landing on his bare chest to steady yourself.

"Jae-ha!" You grinned widely.

"I could listen to you say my name forever," He admitted lowly. "Though, those other sounds you make don't sound half bad either."

It wasn't long ago that those words might've made you flinch, so he was surprised when you laughed easily, eyes sparkling with joy and Jae-ha felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of you being so carefree and relaxed, despite the numerous injuries you suffered from.

All he could focus on was you, in his arms, finally back by his side, right where you belonged.

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

I MEAN IT GAVE ME CHILLS IN A GOOD WAY. and also it would be hilarious to write imo; just these 6 dudes that all look the same and just made up A Guy.

“Thomas,” Roman announces quite suddenly, with a triumphant gesture that manages to inadvertently sweep half of the script drafts off the couch in the process.

“I still can not believe we’re doing this,” Virgil says.

“Oh, you’d better believe it, Way Down Gay-destown, ‘cause I just got the perfect name for him. Thomas. That’s his name – Thomas Sanders.” Roman pauses, and wiggles his fingers a bit. “Thoughts?”

Remus perks up. “Oh, our fictional character has thots now?”

“Crawling all over him like weevils,” Virgil nods.

“I thought we were calling ourselves ‘Sides’,” says Janus.  

“Guys, please,” Roman begs.

“Thomas sounds good to me,” is Patton’s opinion. “It’s nice and friendly, and also it has two syllables, like the rest of us! It kind of fits in like that.”

“It is a surprisingly apt name, especially when you take into consideration that Roman most likely did not know of the linguistic root when picking it,” Logan muses.

Remus waves a hand lazily from where he’s draped backwards over the couch, writing Transformers inflation porn on the notes app of his shitty phone. “Uh, noparoni, falsehood, all that jazz. I was watching. He went on babynames dot com and everything for this.”

“...What he said, yeah.”

“Ah, yes, babynames dot com, the internet’s premier and leading source for all accurate name derivations,” comes the dry response.

“Thomas means twin,” Roman says. “It means twin, and it’s funny because we all look identical! It’s like another layer of meaning! A fun little injoke, just for us.”

“Yes,” says Virgil, “you’re right. We need many, many deep layers of meaning and in-jokes woven into the shared identity we’re crafting as part of Roman and Remus’s wild, spur-of-the-moment internet scam.”

“How dare you,” Roman objects loudly, flailing so suddenly that he nearly falls off the couch. “This is polar opposite of a scam, we’re – we are merely taking advantage of our uncanny shared appearance to... share joy amongst the humble Youtube vlogging community! And perhaps show off. Just a little. But to say that it’s a scam – ”

“No, this is definitely a scam,” Janus says. “I mean, look at us. We’re inventing an entire person for internet clout.”

Patton looks like he’s having second thoughts about this whole thing. “I’m having second thoughts,” he says. “Like, on an ethical, moral sort of level, is any of this... really a good idea?”

“People invent other people for shittier reasons all the time, I think we’re fine,” Virgil says. “I mean, look at internet catfishes. Or every male fiction writer with a very obvious and creepy fetish. Or J.K. Rowling.”

“J.K. Rowling doesn’t exist?” Janus says. “Excellent. We won, boys.”

Roman grabs a pen and scribbles it into the notebook, next to a hasty little stickman doodle of an average-looking guy and a list of qualities and attributes and skills. “Well, all that aside, nobody seems to have an objection to this, so Thomas it is! Thomas Sanders. Thomas I’ve-Just-Realized-He-Needs-A-Middle-Name Sanders.”

“Thomas F Sanders,” Remus suggests.

“The F stands for ‘Fucking’, doesn’t it,” sighs Patton.

“Well, yeah.”

“Way to go for the low-hanging fruit, dude,” Virgil says. “Okay, put a pin in the middle name for now. Our collective brainchild has a name, so... that’s something. I guess.” He grabs the notebook from Roman and squints down at the short-ish list they have so far. “Any more character traits we wanna give this guy?”

“Intense love of Disney films,” Roman says.

“We’ve already got that; you suggested it about five times already.”

“Maybe he can play the ukulele!” Patton suggests.

Virgil nods, and starts to write it down before stopping abruptly. “Wait. Can any of us play the ukulele?”

Silence.

“He can only have traits that we already have,” Virgil reminds them. “That’s the whole idea. We’re derivatives of him.”

“Well, I’ll work on the ukulele thing,” Roman says decisively. “Put it down anyway. Anyone else?”

“He can’t cook to save his life,” Janus says.

“Catholic guilt,” Logan provides, with a little wince and a slight adjustment of his glasses. “It provides a good base for many of the plotlines we wish to include in this, I believe.”

“Give him a huge dick,” Remus says.

“Remus,” Roman growls.

“Just a humungous badonker of a penis. He beats his meat and the entire earth rumbles.”

“Remus,” Patton groans.

Remus grins. "He’s packing some real chunky meat down there. As in, his drill is a five star excavator. A proper manmade wonder. It's the kind of meal you get a prize for finishing. A bridge between two warring nations. And the girth! God had to resize the Earth so the radii wouldn't match. You can use his cast iron pelvic greatsword as a radiation shield in Chernobyl. His – "

“Remus, weren’t you listening? We’re only giving him traits that we already have,” Virgil says, looking Remus dead in the eyes. “I’m not going to let you misrepresent yourself like this.”

The room almost immediately erupts into a loud chorus of enthusiastic oohs. Quite a few people throw things at Virgil, who lets out a snort of amusement and ducks to avoid getting nailed in the eye by a stray television remote control. Remus just cackles.

“We’re going to have to tone back the dick jokes, probably,” says Janus with some regret, once everybody calms down a bit. “Don’t want to get demonetized within the first few weeks.”

“Well, Remus already broke the Youtube demonetization speedrun last week, so at least we know what not to do,” Patton says absently. “The real question is, though – who’s going to actually play this Thomas person?

“Don’t look at me,” says Janus. “I’m looking forward to getting the play the villain for once.”

Patton points at him, mock-glaring. “Hey, don’t think you’re missing out on a redemption arc just because you like the evil aesthetic!”

Janus lets out a little affronted hissing noise at that, but doesn’t actually object.

“Well, I’m not shaving my moustache for any of you fuckers, no matter how much internet clout we’re gonna get for it,” Remus declares.

A quick, meaningful glance is exchanged between the four remaining people in the room.  

“Leave me out of it,” Virgil decides.

“I don’t really mind, either way,” Patton says.

“In that case, I shall arm-wrestle you for the honor of portraying our glorious, talented and entirely fictional centre of being on our upcoming Grammy-award-winning sixty-part webseries,” Roman declares, flexing dramatically.

“Which may or may not be a scam,” Logan says.

“...Look, are we doing this or what?”

“Absolutely.” Logan places down his book, and shrugs off his jacket. “I should warn you, however – I am what I believe is colloquially referred to as ‘absolutely fucking ripped’.” He breaks out into a surprisingly wicked smile. “Roman, let me be clear. I am going to be the one to portray Thomas Fucking Sanders, our beloved nonexistent media superstar culmination-of-our-collective-selves. And I am about to flat-out destroy you. Let’s go.”

There’s a beat of silence as everybody stares at Logan. The stares range from impressed to terrified to obviously horny. All of these are equally valid emotions to be feeling, because Logan is ripped, and somehow none of them have ever realized this before.

“Well, before we do that, give me five minutes to make popcorn,” says Janus. “Because I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

[i-see-no-whump-up-here]

Whumpmas in July (Day 6): Mistake

A/N: I’m working on introducing some of the characters I write with, so this is a whumpee’s start with one of my usual whumpers, a whumpee collector who (pretentiously) calls himself “The Master”. I don’t think this needs any CW’s, but please let me know if I need to add any.

Jesse took a deep breath, and he knocked on the big, wooden door. Barely a second passed before he heard. “Come in.”

“Mr. Donovan? Sir?” Jesse cautiously opened the door to an ornate office. Tall, walnut bookcases lined two walls so they framed the fine furniture between. Mr. Donovan sat at his desk, backlit by a large bay window. He didn’t look at Jesse, continuing to write in his journal.

“Have a seat,” The man said. Jesse stepped around the leather studded chair and did so gingerly. He didn’t speak yet, too afraid to mess up this opportunity. He still didn’t know quite what it was, but he knew that he needed it. Mr. Donovan finished his thoughts and then set his journal to the side.

“So, Josiah—“

“Jesse,” The younger man corrected. Then, he realized he interrupted, and he backpedaled. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt. It’s just a habit. Never been a fan of my full name.” He laughed nervously. Mr. Donovan raised an eyebrow.

“Right.” Mr. Donovan grabbed a manila envelope and opened it, pulling out a small stack of papers. He set only the top page in front of Jesse. “Fill this out.”

“Sure,” Jesse looked around. He started to reach for the pen holder but stopped himself. “May I?”

“You didn’t bring a pen,” Mr. Donovan asked— or said, rather. Jesse’s face turned red.

“No. Sorry— sir,” He wasn’t normally one for formal titles, but in this case, he thought it was warranted. A few days ago, he received a call from Mr. Donovan. The man found his resume online, and he claimed to have a unique opportunity for him. Jesse looked him up to make sure it wasn’t a spam call. His full name was Henry Donovan, and apparently, he was quite wealthy, worth several hundred million, but he couldn’t find much more about him. An elusive type— not a man who often socialized, as far as Jesse could tell. Some part of Jesse wished he could find more information on him, but he feared looking this gift horse in the mouth.

The man hadn’t said no, so Jesse carefully grabbed a pen and twisted the tip out. He wrote his full legal name in the right spots, and then he looked down the rest of the page. The form contained a weird mix of personal, legal, financial, and medical information. He paused for a moment, wanting to ask why Mr. Donovan needed this. He didn’t quite feel comfortable putting his social security number in, but surely if the man was asking, this was legal. He must have a team of lawyers watching his wealth, and this wasn’t some shady online website. He filled it in and answered the rest of the questions.

He wrote his current address. He lived alone. He didn’t have a current employment. He didn’t receive money from his parents. When he got to the medical part, he marked them as deceased. He didn’t have any allergies. He didn’t know of any current health issues. His family’s medical history was clean. The last box asked him if he told anyone about this opportunity, and to share who. Jesse forced himself to speak up. “What do you need this for? What exactly is the opportunity? Is it research or something?”

“We’ll get to that in a minute. It’s fairly straightforward,” Mr. Donovan dismissed. As Jesse signed the bottom of the page, he pulled out two more pages from within the stack. “Sign on these lines.”

“It pays well though, right?” Jesse scrawled his signature a few more times, but the papers were pulled away from him before he could see what they said at the top. “You said you knew I was behind on my rent, but I have some other payments to catch up on. I was wondering if we might be able to frontload some of the pay? Then I can take less later.”

“It’ll all be taken care of,” Mr. Donovan promised. Jesse nodded. Right. He probably needed to get the job first. Or did he already get it? He drove all the way out to this insanely fancy manor, so surely he did something right. Mr. Donovan started to get up, and Jesse sprung to his feet as well.

The man walked to one bookcase and pulled on a few books. Then, he moved a few more aside to reveal a pin pad. He typed in a code, and there was an audible click. Jesse startled as a bookcase slid back. Okay… that was unique.

“Ah. Cliche,” He gave a weak smile. Mr. Donovan didn’t seem amused.

“Classic,” He corrected. Jesse flexed his hands at his side. “I need to ask that you turn off your phone and remove anything from your pockets. It’s a security concern.”

“I can keep secrets,” Jesse promised, but he did as requested. He set his wallet and keys on the desk, and he turned off his phone, setting it alongside. As an afterthought, he made sure they sat straight and neat. Then, he joined his potential employer at the bookcase opening. A staircase was visible now.

“After you,” Mr. Donovan gestured toward the stairs. Jesse hesitated. The whole scenario felt off. Not by much, but Jesse was generally suspicious of wealthy people, and the whole secret staircase thing wasn’t helping his secret lair vibes. Although, it didn’t look evil and dingy, nor like a sex dungeon. The stairs were nicely lit with elegant tile and an indent in the wall that acted as a railing. Mr. Donovan quickly grew impatient. “I’m a very busy man, Jesse.”

“Right. Sorry. I appreciate the opportunity. I really do,” Jesse insisted. Even if he was nervous, that wasn’t a new feeling for him, and he needed the money. Whatever he was getting paid, he was sure it would help, and he figured it’d be worth the weirdness of this all. The sum he needed to fix his entire life was probably mere chump change to this man. He forced himself to start forward. Mr. Donovan trailed a few steps behind him. At the bottom of the stairs was a small junction, with hallways going forward and either direction to his left or right. Jesse waited for the man to catch up to him at the bottom.

“Left,” Mr. Donovan instructed. “The door on your right.” Jesse went down the left hallway. There was only one door on his right, and it looked to be made of brass. Mr. Donovan had to scan his eye and fingerprint. The whole place was very high security, and Jesse wondered again what he was getting into. The door unlocked, and Mr. Donovan motioned him in. “Fourth on your left.”

This hallway had at least a dozen doors, but they were all made of metal. They had closed metal windows-- like prison doors. Jesse hesitated. “What’s down here?”

“I’ll show you in a second.”

“Why is it all reinforced? What is this?” Jesse asked. Mr. Donovan took a step forward, and it spurred Jesse to at least step into the hallway, still debating how much he could question in this position. He had to be pushing his luck as it was, and historically, no one appreciated his questions.

“Go,” Mr. Donovan said sternly. “Unless you want to end up in prison from debt.” Jesse felt his heart beating faster. He didn’t, obviously, but he wasn’t sure he wanted whatever was happening here either. Were there exotic animals in these cells maybe? Was he comfortable with that? Could he be? For the right sum? He didn’t know.

“Fourth on your left. Last chance,” Mr. Donovan insisted. Jesse numbly walked forward. He watched as the man typed in another pin, and then he opened the door.

It was a cell. A small cell with nothing but a white trash bin in the corner and a white padded bed. Holy shit. Holy shit! No. Absolutely not. No no no. Jesse took a step back, but Mr. Donovan was already behind him. “Go inside.”

“No!” Jesse yelped. “You’re insane. Absolutely fucking bonkers!” He swiveled his head to Mr. Donovan and then back to the cell. “What the heck is this for?! Do you think I’m just gonna go in there?!”

There was a click, and Jesse looked behind him again. Mr. Donovan held a small pistol in his hand. His soul might as well have left his body. Guns absolutely terrified him, and he’d barely seen any, much less had one aimed at him. He tried to find words in his dry mouth. He opened and closed it like an idiot.

“Step back,” Mr. Donovan ordered. Jesse compiled without even thinking. The man took a step after him, and Jesse moved back again automatically.

“Please,” Jesse’s voice strained. “Don’t shoot me.” He continued to back away, eyes trained solely on the gun. Mr. Donovan moved his hand, and Jesse flinched. The hand found the door handle. Wait. Jesse hadn’t even realized he was in the cell now. He surged forward.

The door slammed shut just as he got there, his hands hitting the padded metal surface a second later. He slammed his palms against it. “Wait! Wait!”

The window cover slid open, and Jesse could only see out through iron bars. “Mr. Donovan, please!”

“Technically, I have a doctorate--”

“Doctor Donovan--”

“-- but you will just call me Master.” The window slid shut. Jesse hit the door again in panic. He searched for a handle, for a crack, for anything to grab, and he found nothing. He yelled. He squeezed his fingers between the padding, but it was bolted down. He slammed his shoulder into the door so hard his entire body hurt with the impact, and he fell backward onto the floor.

Down there, the walls felt so high yet suffocating at the same time. He got onto his hands and knees and stared at the unmoving door. No... What had he done?

[the--highlanders]

Almosts

The end of another adventure leaves the Doctor and Jamie standing on the edge of a cliff, literally and figuratively.

on ao3.

He had wished that the canyon walls would push themselves further apart, before. They had seemed so close together, like at any moment one might topple in against the other and crush the ragged little town clinging onto their walls. The sky was nothing but a narrow slash of blue or black across the craggy orange stone, with the few gnarled bushes and spiky trees that dared grow on the sandy expanse above curling in to eat away at it further with their black silhouettes.

That had been the one thing he was glad of – that the canyon walls afforded them shade for half the day, even if they had to retreat into the recesses carved into the rock for the other half. And at the very bottom of the canyon was a stream, sending the reassuring tinkle of its passage up towards the town with at least the thought of a cool breeze. But that had been the extent of his gratitude.

Now, though, that slash did not feel so narrow, and the sky seemed to hold more space for stars. And, more importantly, more room for the great light show happening above them. Clouds of pink and yellow sparks were cascading across the gap, wheeling out towards the horizon. Every so often, the tiniest of fragments would peel away from its companions, slowing its path across the sky but speeding up its tumble towards the ground. Once or twice, one plummeted straight into the canyon, still glowing brightly enough that Jamie was surprised it did not catch on any of the wooden shacks or rails and set every ramshackle structure in the place alight. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of stepping down onto the next level of the theatre he stood in, down to where there was no stone beneath the metal grate of the floor, and he could see whether the fragments still glowed after they hit the ground.

He was saved from having to talk himself out of the idea by a chorus of gasps rising from the theatre’s other occupants, echoed from rickety walkways and lopsided houses all over the town, on their side of the canyon and the other. An unusually large fragment was sailing overhead, slower than the others but no more ungainly for it, twirling like it was showing off for the crowd.

Someone slipped in behind him, brushing against his back, and he stepped forward to let them past. But they paused at his back, reaching one arm over his shoulder to wrap around his chest, and he tensed, readying himself to throw them off.

They spoke before he could move, a low murmur somewhere behind his ear. “Rather a lovely spectacle, isn’t it?”

Reaching up to slap his hand against the free side of his chest, Jamie sagged backwards into the embrace. “Doctor!” he exclaimed softly. “Ye shouldnae frighten me like that.”

The Doctor chuckled, loosening his grip like he was about to step away, though he quickly adjusted himself to lean forward instead, pressing his cheek against the side of Jamie’s head. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Ye almost made me jump out of my skin.” But Jamie leant his head more securely against the Doctor’s, willing him to understand that he was not particularly upset. From the way the Doctor was twisting them from side to side ever so slightly, he supposed he was understood. “Ye did it, then.”

He had thought that it would sound more triumphant, when he finally said those words. That they would come out as a cheer, a breathless shout, or even a half-whisper, so full of relief that they would be almost rapturous. Devotional, even. But the lights above had been falling for almost half an hour now. It had been blatantly obvious that the Doctor had succeeded.

“Yes, I did.” The Doctor sounded no more surprised than Jamie had. “Rather a neat piece of work, I think.” He paused. “Ah – I couldn’t have done it without you. And Jax, of course.”

“Mm.”

“I – I suppose he went home?” The Doctor’s head shifted away from Jamie’s, like he was glancing around, expecting to see Jax standing somewhere nearby. “I had rather hoped I might have a chance to thank him myself.”

“Aye. He’s gone home.”

“Ah.” Another pause. The Doctor had noticed his sullen quietness, Jamie thought. “Jamie -”

“He asked me tae stay here.” The words tumbled out of Jamie’s mouth of their own accord, and he cringed even as he was saying them, his cheeks burning. “With him,” he added, barely managing more than a hoarse whisper through his suddenly-dry throat.

There was no reason to be embarrassed by it, he told himself sternly. Jax had made an offer, that was all. And it was hardly as if he had been shocked because Jax was a man. He knew better than that, now. There was no reason to make a fuss.

But the Doctor had stilled, his grasp tightening even as the press of his chest vanished from Jamie’s back, and Jamie knew he felt the weight of it too. “Did he, now.”

“Aye.” Jamie shrugged one shoulder, the one not trapped under the Doctor’s iron grip. “I turned him down,” he added, as casually as he could manage.

“Ah.”

Not for the first time, he wished the Doctor was not quite so good at making almost anything sound nonchalant. But he had unfrozen himself, at least, his arm slackening over Jamie’s chest as he stepped closer. His cheek quickly found the side of Jamie’s head again, and they stared up at the sky in silence for a moment, watching a fresh burst of light arc across the sky. What a picture they must make, Jamie thought. His fingers twitched, like his body thought he ought to reach up and take hold of the Doctor’s arm, but he suppressed the urge. Instead he leant to one side, then back the other way, rocking them slowly.

“You weren’t tempted?” the Doctor asked at last, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible over the cheers and chatter of the people around them.

“No.” That was easy enough to say, at least. “I mean – Jax was nice.”

“Yes, of course.” There it was, a crack in the Doctor’s facade. A tiny hint of nervousness.

“But that doesnae mean I’d want tae live the rest of my life here, ye know. Or – with him.”

“Quite.”

“An’ I told him -” Jamie cleared his throat. “I said I already had someone.”

It was true, of course. Or mostly true, anyway. No outsider would question it, seeing them like this, he was sure. Even Jax had flicked his eyes to the sky when Jamie had said it, like he was seeking out the ship that was carrying the Doctor. And there was something between them, a kind of mutual understanding. A closeness, a tight-knit web of jokes and little whispered secrets that had wrapped itself around them until the idea of someone else stepping into that gap felt strange. Not that there was much risk of a someone else, he supposed. He had never known the Doctor to show any inclination towards other people – and he himself had stumbled into this arrangement before Polly had so much as suggested in passing that his tastes might not lie with lassies after all. He doubted that either of them had put much thought into looking elsewhere. But the thought was there, all the same.

And so here they were, cradling this nameless thing like it might break if they looked at it too closely.

They were happy, though, he told himself. Comfortable with the way things were. Did they really need to go poking around at it like it was a wound?

“Did you, now.” The Doctor sounded amused, at least. He knocked his jaw against Jamie’s head again, joining Jamie in rocking them from side to side. “Ought I be jealous?”

Jamie flicked his eyes down to the ground self-consciously, though he knew the Doctor could not see where he was looking. He was not really watching the lights above them, anyway, not anymore. His cheeks were stinging, but it was a pleasant sort of embarrassment, the kind that filled his stomach with something warm and bubbly and rose a lump in his throat, and it was all he could do to stop himself from breaking into near-hysterical laughter. “I don’t know,” he choked out, his voice hitching awkwardly. “Should ye be?”

They had done this dance many times before. A silly sort of almost-courting, like two wild animals circling each other, neither wanting to make the first move.

“I don’t know,” the Doctor said softly. “Should I?”

They were laughing at it, in a way. The silliness of the idea that they might have tripped over their easy closeness and fallen into – he would not say love. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. But a sort of commitment, an I can’t imagine it being anyone else.

It’s quite ridiculous, he could imagine the Doctor saying. To think that there’s something going on between us.

 Isn’t it?

The Doctor turned his head to the side, pushing his face into the spot where his cheek had rested a moment earlier. It was not deliberate enough to be a kiss – more like he was burying his face in Jamie’s hair out of sheer exhaustion – but Jamie still felt the press of his slightly-pursed lips, and smiled to himself.

Ridiculous.

“No,” he said at last. “No reason for ye tae worry.”

[grayseekerswritinglife]

Inevitabilities

Starscream was late. Very late.

When he alighted on the narrow ledge and peered into the murky depths of the cliffside cave, he expected to find it empty. It wasn't. Skyfire was there, sitting with his back against the wall. His optics were closed and his head lolled to one side in a posture of sleep. Starscream edged closer, the fingers of his still-functioning hand clenching indecisively.

Part of him—a large part—was telling him to leave. The howl of the wind and the crashing of breakers against the base of the cliff would muffle his retreat. Later, he could concoct an excuse for his absence—if Skyfire even asked, though he generally didn't. It wasn't exactly a rule between them, just an unspoken agreement to keep the outside world separate from their relationship.

It was better that way. Safer.

Starscream took a backward step, then another. He reached the rim of the ledge, one heel-thruster poised above the sheer drop. When he turned, everything beyond the cave was iron-gray. The sky, the rocks, the rain-swept ocean. The sun was hidden behind a mass of stormclouds that crouched on the lightless horizon. A salt-laden wind buffeted his chest and wings, pushing him back, and that was all it took. His legs went out from under him and he sat down, hard.

Only then did he hear a quiet sound from behind. The sound of a vocalizer being cleared. Glancing back, Starscream was unsurprised to find Skyfire watching him. Not speaking. Not telling him to stay… or go. Just leaving space. Letting him decide for himself, as he always did. Starscream turned his attention back to the cheerless vista, and waited. He didn't wait long. Skyfire's steps were slow and deliberately heavy as he came to settle on Starscream's right.

Of course on his right. Skyfire had a talent for that.

Starscream tucked his hand against his chassis where Skyfire wouldn't be able to see it. For a while, neither spoke. Eventually, Skyfire drew a small repair kit from his subspace and set it on the floor between them. Starscream stared at it, feeling stupid, ridiculous, exposed. Finally he reached across himself with his good hand, snagged the kit, and dragged it onto his lap. He fumbled with the catch, but the kit slid from his lap and popped open, scattering tools across the rock floor.

"Frag!" It was the first word either of them had spoken.

Skyfire shifted closer. "Starscream—"

Starscream cut him off with a gesture. Half a gesture, because he realized mid-motion that he'd been about to use his right hand. He twisted away, blocking Skyfire's view with a wing as he groped along the floor. He found a small precision-welder and fired it up. The spark flared blue. A brilliant, electric blue which he was able to see by without use of his infrared. His hand was worse than he'd realized. Much worse.

You're either lying or stupid!

Megatron's voice echoed harshly in his thoughts, along with the remembered humiliation of his own response:

I'm stupid, I'm stupid!

He had been. Incredibly stupid, and this was the result. His fingers were shaking. The welder slipped from his grasp and skittered across the cave floor, its spark flaring inexplicably brighter just before it was doused. A hand settled on his arm.

"Starscream."

Starscream tensed. It was automatic, a reaction programmed at the level of base-coding. To anticipate a fight because flight wasn't an option. Not for him. He wouldn't—couldn't—yield. But Skyfire wouldn't either. His hand stayed where it was until something in Starscream broke. He let his head fall to his drawn-up knees, and didn't realize how hard he was shaking until Skyfire's arms slipped around him. A soft kiss grazed the top of his head as Skyfire shaped himself around Starscream's form, great wings sweeping forward to shelter him from the gray morning light.

Skyfire said nothing. Starscream had half expected him to ask, but he didn't. Maybe he doesn't have to, an inner voice suggested, spurring a fresh surge of fury to cover his scalding humiliation. Everyone knows, everyone. Even the Autobots.

But Skyfire's knowing wasn't such a problem. Not really. In a way, it made things easier. It saved having to explain. Starscream hunched back against Skyfire's warm frame, listening to the hum of his engines and the indefinable, shimmering vibration of his life-force. His field was like the ocean. No, like space. Vast, deep and all-engulfing, but Starscream never felt he was drowning in it. Not unless he wanted to. Skyfire rocked him, big arms crossed over his chest, hands stroking his shoulders. Holding him without making him feel trapped. Starscream gradually unclenched, and Skyfire rewarded him with further kisses to his intakes and the top of his helm.

"Can I look?" came the inevitable question.

Starscream sighed.

He knew Skyfire knew, but wished he didn't have to see. Especially since Skyfire must also know, by the mere fact that Starscream was hiding it, that this wasn't simply battle-damage. Yet he didn't resist when Skyfire's hand slipped down the length of his right arm, slow and hesitant, giving Starscream plenty of warning. Plenty of chances to retreat. When Skyfire's enormous hand finally cupped his, Starscream felt the reaction. A swift tightening in Skyfire's field; a storm-flash of anger; an ache of regret; a burn of recrimination.

Self-recrimination.

Starscream twisted around in Skyfire's arms. "It's not your fault!" he snapped, glaring—and Skyfire looked so sad. Starscream hated that. He wrenched free, thinking he should leave, just fly, but his spark was rooted here and he knew there was no point. He'd fly back again. That was inevitable. And he always made Skyfire sad. That, too, was inevitable.

Fingers brushed his shoulder and drifted down the length of his back. It was barely a touch, but Starscream felt Skyfire's field pull close to his body as he reached again for Starscream's hand. "Let me see."

Starscream didn't—couldn't—look as Skyfire drew the hand into his own lap. There was a clank of metal against stone as Skyfire leaned past him and picked up one of the fallen tools. Starscream didn't know which one. He kept his gaze firmly on a vein of pale quartz that cut, lightning-shaped, through the dark stone at the cave entrance, but the expected pain never arrived. Instead, the dull throbbing ache that had been with him throughout the afternoon suddenly drained from his hand. He glanced at Skyfire, startled, but looked away just as quickly when he saw Skyfire moving his broken, useless fingers, assessing damage.

"It's bad." Skyfire's tone was impassive, betraying nothing.

"Of course it's bad." As if Megatron did anything by half-measures.

Skyfire cupped the hand in both his own. He bowed forward, and Starscream felt lips brush against his palm. Part of his mind noted that if he could feel it, that meant Skyfire had disconnected the pain receptors without interfering with his tactile system overall. He suddenly remembered another time when Skyfire had repaired him. It had been so long ago, almost another lifetime, yet it had been a blustery morning like this and he'd felt, as he did now, as if they were the only two beings in the universe.

"Do you remember that planet with the pink sky?" he asked.

Skyfire was gathering the tools and arranging them in what was, Starscream knew, the precise order in which he planned to use them. He paused for a moment, thinking. "Binary star system?" he asked. "Planetary rings? High concentration of argon in the—"

"Yes, that one."

"You hated it there," Skyfire murmured,  mouth twitching into a smile.

"Well, we were stranded!" Starscream barked, then subsided with a small shrug. "It wasn't so bad."

"No?" There was humor in Skyfire's gaze, as well as affection. "I don't recall you thinking so at the time."

"I didn't know what I was talking about. Anyway, I went back."

"You did? When?"

"About a million years into the war. The place was gone."

"The whole planet was?"

"No; just the hab."

"Ah." Skyfire nodded. "I'm not surprised. The local geology would have changed, along with the atmosphere, climactic conditions—"

"There had been an ice age," Starscream interrupted. "A glacier had come through, and nothing was left but flat tundra. But I built another hab. It was like the one we made, only… smaller. I lived there for a while and it felt like you were there sometimes, and I could still—" he broke off "—still talk to you. And sometimes I thought you answered. I even thought of just… staying. There, with your ghost."

Skyfire paused his work, studying him. "But you didn't."

Starscream snorted. "The natives," he said, shaking his head. "There was this species that had evolved in the meantime. Small, furry, organic bipeds. Some with tails, some not. And these two groups, the ones with the tails and the ones without, they hated each other. They were constantly fighting and killing each other with their primitive weapons, and—Skyfire, I killed one."

Skyfire set down the welder. His hands curled around Starscream's, a thumb stroking his wrist where the damage wasn't as bad. "What happened?"

"He was going to die anyway!" Starscream snapped defensively, but Skyfire just kept stroking his wrist, waiting patiently. "He had a spear through him," Starscream continued. "Right through. In at the armpit, out just above the hip. I suppose he was looking for help when he came to my door. I…" Starscream averted his gaze.

"You shot him?"

Starscream didn't answer right away. Skyfire's hands were warm, and the unhurried glide of his thumb against Starscream's plating was oddly soothing. Not unlike the patter of rain and the rhythmic crash of breakers on the rocks below. "It was the first thing I thought of doing," Starscream admitted finally. "The only thing. I just did it, and didn't even consider anything else."

"Maybe it was the only thing you could have done."

"That isn't the point!"

"Then tell me what is." There was no trace of anger in Skyfire's tone, nor of judgment.

Starscream searched his face. "You can't go back," he said. "I'd been fighting, leading a squadron. We'd driven the Autobots underground, we were winning! And I wasn't the same anymore; that's the point."

"You left when the Decepticons were winning?"

"I had to see who I was without the war. But I couldn't hold on to the past, Sky. I couldn't be who I was then, and I couldn't hear you anymore! After the day I shot that creature, you… you stopped answering. I couldn't even remember the sound of your voice. So I went back to Cybertron. What else was I going to do?"

"And… they took you back?" Skyfire's tone was cautious, as if he was unsure of where this might be leading.

"I didn't expect them to, but Megatron was surprisingly… welcoming. Almost as if he knew where I'd been, or at least why. I fought harder than ever after that. Fought my way to the top; became his Air Commander, and then his Second-in-Command." And more. Of course there was more, but Starscream left that part unsaid.

"Did you... do you... love him?" Skyfire asked, proving that he'd read between the lines with his usual ease.

Starscream observed him in the half-light. The great, white shape of him. His big hands, clasping Starscream's damaged one so very gently. He owed this mech an honest answer, but he didn't know the truth anymore. Maybe he never had. "I don't think I can love," he said eventually. "I buried that when I left that place, that planet. The skies weren't pink anymore. They'd turned gray, like here, and… I just. Everything I ever was, with you, I left back there. And I can't go back. We can't."

He withdrew his hand and tucked it against his belly, curling around it. They sat, the hiss of rain forming a backdrop to their silence. The sky grew brighter, the iron clouds on the horizon warming to a bruised shade of copper.

"Will you at least let me finish before you leave?" Skyfire asked.

Starscream pretended to consider, but finally placed his broken hand back in Skyfire's. "You aren't going to tell me not to go back?"

"I want to," Skyfire said as he resumed, the welder's blue spark casting his face in flickering shadows. "But…" his wings sagged. "I know better."

Starscream returned his gaze to the dull sweep of ocean. As he watched, a ray of light broke through the clouds and silvered the wave-tips.

"There." Skyfire deactivated the welder. "Try making a fist."

Starscream was pleasantly surprised when his fingers moved the way they were designed to. His hand still looked nearly as bad as it had before, but it was at least functional.

"That's good," Skyfire said, satisfied. "I could repair the external damage if I had time, but at least you can use the hand now." He gathered his tools back into their kit, then rose and went to the back of the cave where he began getting his things together.

"Are you... leaving?" Starscream asked.

"I should get back," Skyfire replied without glancing up. "I'm supposed to make a run to Ganymede Station to pick up some supplies, and then—"

Starscream scrambled up. "Sky."

Skyfire lifted his head, but Starscream couldn't meet his gaze. Outside, the sun had broken through; the quartz lightning-bolt at the mouth of the cave had taken on an eerily pink glow. Red sky in the morning, sailor's warning. It was a human aphorism Starscream had picked up… somewhere. He had no idea where. But it seemed entirely appropriate for what he was about to say. "Can we stay here? For a little while longer?"

It was a bad idea. Terrible, in fact. Starscream would eventually be missed, and Skyfire had some pointless errand to run. The world expected things of them both. But Skyfire didn't point any of that out. He sank down where he'd been sleeping before, his back against the wall, and patted the ground in front of him in wordless invitation. Within moments Starscream was curled between his legs, his face pillowed against a snowy expanse of chest.

"You're right," Skyfire said at length, his deep voice vibrant beneath Starscream's cheek. "We can't go back. But maybe we'll find a way forward, if we look for one."

Outside, the rain had settled in. The fitful light of dawn had seeped away, leaving the sky a dismal shade of ash. "Not seeing one yet, Sky."

Those powerful arms gathered him closer. "Yet," Skyfire echoed, for emphasis. "But you can stay as long as you want. And I'll stay here with you."

Starscream twined his battered fingers with Skyfire's, and smiled. It was the most intimate gesture he felt capable of, and the shift in Skyfire's field told him that he was understood. Starscream closed his optics, listening to the rain, and pondered this new inevitability.

Written for SkyStarWeek 2020. This story is for Day Four: Intimacy and Vulnerability. Many thanks to @overlordraax​ for organizing this wonderful (and much needed) celebration of my OTP!

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 24

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you’d prefer!

Follow this story’s Instagram account whenihaveyou.romione

A/N: The wiggentree is believed to protect from dark magical creatures, which I thought fit perfectly in an office that — despite Hermione’s efforts — are not yet accustomed to treating creatures as equals. I thought it was ironic and fitting for this chapter. 

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Chapter 24

“Are you sure you don’t want to take this mission?” Harry asked, waving the sign up sheet in front of Ron. “It’ll be the easiest one, because there’ll be no one about to cause too much trouble.”

“Not likely,” Ron said, pushing the sheet away. “I’ll wait for the one that comes after Christmas. I’d much rather spend Christmas at the Burrow, and with Hermione, than in some run down inn in the middle of who knows where. Ginny won’t be happy when she finds out you’ve signed up to be away for Christmas, by the way.”

“Ginny will be away for Christmas,” Harry said. “Which is why I thought I’d do it.”

“Where will Ginny be?” Ron asked, surprised, as that was the first he’d heard of it.

“Training,” Harry said, shrugging. “Apparently all the new Harpies recruits are being put to the test over the Christmas break. She couldn’t even get the day off to Apparate home.”

“Huh,” Ron said, “life of a professional Quidditch player.”

“So it seems,” Harry said. “Though, thankfully, not quite professional yet.”

Ron, who had felt mildly put out when Ginny had told him she’d been offered a spot in the squad of the Holyhead Harpies, had taken some time to get used to the idea of his sister potentially becoming a professional Quidditch player in the next few months. He was proud of her, of course, but also, he wouldn’t have minded such a job — though, in reality, if he couldn’t perform well in front of the Hogwarts students, he doubted a larger crowd of fans would be any better. 

But being in the team had come at a price of being forced to stay in Holyhead more than she could be at home. Sometimes, she’d be away for a week at a time, a fate which Ron sympathised with Harry over from when Hermione had gone to Australia.

“She’s home tonight, though?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, for the next few days,” Harry said. “Then she’s gone again.”

“Honestly, I thought that if Ginny wasn’t going to be home, you might want to spend some time with Teddy — and Andromeda. Mum would still love to have you, too, you know.”

Harry grimaced. 

“Yeah… I’ll be seeing Teddy a little before Christmas. Spending a day with him… on my own this time. Completely on my own.”

“You’ll be fine,” Ron said. “He loves you.”

Harry laughed. “I wouldn’t say that, but it’s getting easier each time.”

“Except for the time he completely destroyed your living room, right?”

On one of the times Teddy had visited Harry — the now walking and running small child had gotten into everything that was in the Grimmauld place sitting room. He’d tore out books from bookshelves and ripped up some pages, knocked off empty vases and pulled down the few photos Harry had put up. Ron, who’d witnessed the event, had called Teddy a terror. Hermione had said it was normal for that age.

Harry shook his head at the memory. He’d had all visits with Teddy under the supervision of Andromeda since then. 

Ron nodded. “Well, speaking of homes, I better go and drag Hermione from the office to make sure she actually leaves it today. Did you know she didn’t get home until one this morning? Apparently she was working so intently on one of these laws she’s been tasked to write that she lost track of time. She’s not eating properly either, forgoing meals to continue working.”

Harry gave a short laugh. “Well, that’s Hermione, isn’t it? Prioritising work above all else. Do you not remember exam time?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “but she’s going to wear herself out if she keeps going. We haven’t had a proper conversation in about a week, because she gets home, goes straight to bed, then gets up at a ridiculous hour to head back in. Then, she skips her lunch breaks. She’s mad.”

Harry smiled. “Ah well, good luck tonight then. See you on Monday. Hopefully Hermione has a good rest over the weekend.”

“Ha!” Ron said. “Try telling her that.”

He gave Harry another wave, who’d just finished packing up his own stuff, and headed down the corridor from the Auror office. 

The first missions for the trainees were coming up — experiencing time away, on a job. It wasn’t a planned job, and they didn’t yet know where they’d be going, as the Aurors were hoping something would eventuate in that time frame. 

There would be one over Christmas (good character building, they said, for when they actually become Aurors and get unexpectedly called away from their loved ones) or one just after New Years. 

Ron had chosen the one after New Years, with Neville, while Harry had elected for the Christmas one. He was mad, Ron reasoned. Who would willingly go away for Christmas?

He reached the lift, and instead of going to the atrium and to the fireplaces, he went to the level that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was on. Most people headed in the opposite direction to him, with it being slightly after five and keen to get home. But Ron knew that he’d find Hermione hunched over at her desk still, scribbling away at the SPEW law she was working on. 

Honestly, he didn’t know why she needed to do so much work for it. She had done much of the research back in her fourth year, but apparently much more than her fifteen year old had managed now needed to be done. Apparently, the long term goal was to banish house-elf enslavement altogether, but for the time being, the law was to have better control over the families house-elves were assigned to. And in the case of generational ownership, she sought to abolish that immediately. 

Since August, when she’d started her job, Ron had spent countless evenings listening to her talk about it over dinner, and weekends sitting with her as she pored over books to gather her information. He’d been keen to begin with, but the novelty of it had soon worn off — especially when his own workload increased as he reached the halfway point of his second year of training. 

Now, he just wanted her to come home and eat something with him — or, as things currently were, eat anything at all. 

He pushed open the Magical Being office, unsurprised to see most desks empty. But over in the corner, by a wiggentree (the irony, Ron thought with a smile), sat Hermione. She didn’t even look up as Ron approached, but continued to scribble on a lengthy roll of parchment, her hand darting backwards and forwards quickly. 

“Hey,” Ron said, drawing up a chair to sit opposite her. “It’s past five. You’ve got to come home.”

“I’ve just got to finish this,” Hermione said, not looking up from her work. “You can go. I may be a while.”

“Yeah, you said that last night,” Ron said, “and remind me again when you got home.”

“I lost track of time,” Hermione told him absently. She paused, her brows knitting together for a moment, and then started writing again, just as quick as before. 

“Did you eat today?” Ron asked.

“I don’t remember.”

“So, no.” 

“I’m far too busy. The workload is increasing each day. But I promise that once I get home, I’ll eat enough to make up for the meals I skipped today.” She paused, still not looking at him. “You can go,” she said again.

“Nope,” Ron said, “I won’t leave until you’re done, which is now.” He removed the quill from her grasp, but she’d not been expecting it, and the ink dragged across her page, leaving a smear across her freshly written notes. 

“Ron!” Hermione cried, taking out her wand to remove the smudge. “Can you not do that?” She snatched the quill back, finally looking up at him. 

“I want you to come home,” Ron said, a little defensive now. “You can’t stay here all night again. It isn’t healthy.”

“I’ve got so much to do, and it won’t get done —”

“You’re always going to have work to do,” Ron told her as she returned her gaze to the parchment. “And you’re the most organised person I know, so if I can balance my workload each day, then you can, too.”

“Yes, but I have far more than you do, Ron. You’re just a trainee, so you have the qualified —”

“Just a trainee?” Ron asked, a pang of something unpleasant creeping up on him now. “Is that how you see what I do, is it?”

Sighing, Hermione placed her quill down and looked up. She looked so tired, a little stressed — Ron had a feeling that not all of it was caused by her work. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, though she didn’t sound all that apologetic. “I just meant… well, an Auror — qualified or in training — is a lot more physical. You do more hands-on things, you’re out and about, so you’re not going to have as much desk work to do. It’s the nature of the job.”

Ron stared at her for a moment, not quite sure he was hearing what she was saying. It wasn’t even what she was saying, but how. She spoke as if what she was doing was far more important — something that had never happened before. She’d always encouraged him, supported him in his journey to become an Auror. 

“An Auror is one of the most skilled positions in the magical world —”

“Ron, I know that —”

“Some didn’t even make it to the second year of training —”

“Ron, I didn’t mean… listen, I’m just really tired, and I really need to get this done. Can you just… leave me alone so I can finish it? I’ll be home as soon as I do, but the longer you’re here, the less I get finished.”

“Last week you were asking for my help,” Ron told her, unable to keep the hurt from his voice. 

Hermione said nothing. For a moment, they looked at each other, then another moment later, Hermione looked back down at her work. 

Ron waited a little longer, watching from the other side of her desk, but it became clear very quickly that she had no intention in having a change of heart. 

Annoyed, upset, and a little angry, Ron jumped to his feet, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He watched her for a moment longer before saying, “I’ll see you at home, then. Whenever that will be.”

He marched to the door, but just as he went to swing it open, the magically coloured work timetable that appeared in every office, caught his eye. As they drew to the end of October, offices were beginning to plan for the holiday period. 

He paused, reading through the timetable. “I see you’re working Christmas,” he said, not at all kindly.

Hermione gave a start, apparently having not realised he was still there.

“Oh, yes… they needed someone for a few hours in the evening. I said I could do it.”

Ron glared at the timetable for another moment, and then without a word to Hermione, he left. He didn’t go to the atrium, though, but returned to the Auror office, which was now empty. 

Locating the sign-up sheets for the missions pinned on the noticeboard, Ron erased his name from the New Years one with his wand and scribbled his name on the Christmas one instead. 

If Hermione didn’t think it important enough to take the Christmas break off, then neither did he. If she thought working during a time they were supposed to spend together was a better option, then he’d do the same. He didn’t care. It was only Christmas. 

But even as he left, this time definitely returning to the atrium, a feeling of regret began to creep over him. They’d fought last Christmas because of something very similar, and he’d vowed to make sure it never happened again. But they were two months away from their second Christmas together, and already he was consumed with bitterness.

And now he’d just signed the holidays away to boot. 

[hopelikethemoon]

sunflowers (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [Smut]

Title: sunflowers  Rating: Explicit  Length: 3600 Warnings: Smut (pregnancy sex, fingering, cuninglus, they’re so raunchy) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in Februrary 1997. Here is a link to the house that’s described and the dress she’s wearing.  Full disclosure this is not one of my favorite chapters, but YOLO. This is 100% Javier being turned on by the dress she’s wearing. Summary: Javier enjoys the dress Reader chooses to wear. 

Taglist:  @grapemama  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes​ @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow​ @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501​ @fioccodineveautunnale​  @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim​ @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper​ @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano​

“I can’t wait until we have our own backyard.” You mused as you joined Javier on the porch swing. You had always coveted the Murphy’s backyard, which was ironic considering you had only ever pictured yourself living in an apartment. 

The idea of a house — a real home had never crossed your thoughts. 

You grinned at Javier as you stole the sunglasses off his face, lifting the hem of your sundress to clean them off. You turned to meet his gaze as you pushed them up the bridge of your nose. Sure, you could get your own sunglasses… but where was the fun in that?

Javier slid his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “Hopefully those assholes don’t outbid us again.” He sighed, curling his hand around your hip and giving it a squeeze. 

“Maybe we should let them know who they’re bidding against.” You quipped as you rested your head against his shoulder, watching Josie as she played with Olive and Emily across the yard. They seemed to be in hot pursuit of an iguana or some other Florida-fauna. Steve was keeping a close eye on them. 

You closed your eyes as you tilted your face upwards, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin. “I’m glad the weather held out today. There’s definitely something to be said about seventy degree days in February.” 

“So am I.” Javier reached across to rest his hand on your stomach, his fingers sprawling out over the curve. “I like this dress.”

“Of course you do,” You rolled your eyes and swatted at his leg playfully. 

It was one of your favorite sundresses. You had worn it frequently last summer, but it definitely wasn’t made to be a maternity dress. The hem fell just below your mid-thigh, shorter now that your stomach had claimed extra fabric. And the sunflower pattern was stretched out where the soft fabric clung to your rounded belly. 

You despised the frumpy clothes that all the stores thought pregnant women wanted to wear. When you already feel like you’re becoming a beached whale, why would you want to wear a potato sack? 

This dress was cute… and your boobs looked amazing in it. Which was an added perk to the outfit. 

“What?” Javier feigned innocence as he tilted his head to look at you. 

“Nothing. Nothing.” You laughed and shook your head. You knew exactly where his mind had gone, given the way he was gripping at your hip. “I’m going to go see if Connie needs any help in the kitchen.” You told him as you pressed a quick kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Hey,” Javier grabbed your hand as you started to get up, “I’ll come too, baby.” 

You interlaced your fingers with his, squeezing lightly as you headed through the glass sliding that led into the Murphy’s kitchen. 

You and Javier had always been very physical people. You had never shied away from touching him, even years ago when you were both just friends. But today, you were certain he was being extra touchy. It had started at the condo — he’d held you from behind while you brushed your teeth in the bathroom, followed by his hand on your knee for the duration of the drive over to their house. And now you were certain he hadn’t taken his hands off of you since you arrived. 

“Something smells good,” You remarked as you released his hand and moved towards the stove to look at what Connie was making. You pulled Javi’s  sunglasses off and tucked them into the front of your dress. 

“I’m trying out this new recipe for stovetop enchiladas.” Connie explained, gesturing to the cast iron skillet on the stove. “One of the nurses on the floor gave me the recipe. I’m not sold on it yet.” She smiled at you, “How are you handling spicy food?”

You shrugged a shoulder, “Surprisingly it’s not as much of a trigger as it was with Josie.” You glanced back at Javier, who had his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the kitchen counters. And his eyes were very much on your ass. 

Oh. 

“Javi,” You started with a too-sweet voice, smirking when he met your gaze. He knew you caught him staring. “What do you think of this?” You gestured for him to come closer. 

He pushed off the counter and walked towards the stove, hands on his hips. “Hmm.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head as he looked at the skillet. “I wouldn’t call these enchiladas.” He offered Connie a sympathetic smile. “But it smells good.”

Connie sighed, “Let’s just hope it tastes good too.” She laughed a little as she moved towards the other side of the kitchen to finish working on the bowl of guacamole. 

Javier’s hand moved to rest at the small of your back briefly, smoothing his fingers over your back for he trailed them lower. You bit your lip when he gave your ass a light squeeze. “Hopefully we get the new place.” He remarked, looking towards Connie as his hand lingered on your ass. “We’re looking forward to entertaining.”

“Everyone except Tracy and Jeff.” You added with a laugh. “There’s so much room. I don’t think I’ve ever lived anywhere with that much square footage.”

He nodded in agreement, “I think pop’s ranch is the only place I’ve been that compares.” Javier walker back towards the counter he’d been holding up before, staring across the kitchen at you. 

“I mean I love the condo, but…” You made a face. “I can’t imagine the four of us living in it comfortably.” Your hand went to your stomach. “Plus Josie deserves her own room.”

“And the master walks out to the patio.”

“It also has a massive bathroom.” You pointed out. “That tub would change my life. I haven’t had a bathtub since my first place out of college.” 

Connie shot you a look, “You’re making me jealous! I can’t wait to see it when you have a housewarming party. Because you’re getting it.” 

“Don’t be too jealous.” Javier rubbed at the back of his neck, “It doesn’t have nearly half the backyard you and Steve have.” 

“We traded indoor space for outdoor space.” Connie said as she grabbed something from the fridge. “Luckily the girls don’t mind sharing a room.” 

“If ours decide they want to sleep together, then we’ll have a guest room.” You remarked as you walked over to where Javier was. “There’s plenty of space.” 

Javier shifted closer to you, draping his around your shoulders. “It’ll be nice to have something that’s fully ours. I’ve never bought a house before.” 

“It’s surreal.” You leaned into him, sighing softly. “Hopefully the owners don’t make us wait much longer. I’d like to be able to move in before I look like a beach ball.” 

“You look beautiful,” Javier whispered as he pressed a kiss to the spot just beneath your ear. The way that his breath danced over your skin had goosebumps forming. 

If this was how he was going to handle things two could certainly play that game. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, tilting your head to look up at him. “You’re sweet, Javi.” You said slowly, tracing your fingertips over the patch of skin where his shirt was unbuttoned. “Go see if Steve needs help with the girls.” 

His lips parted, “But—”

You cut him off with a kiss. 

Connie had her back turned towards you both as she tended to the skillet on the stove. And you were just bold enough, thanks to him, to slip your hand a little lower. You lightly grazed your fingers over the slight bulge in his jeans. 

“Later.” You promised, grinning up at him as you pulled away. “Hey Con, do you need any help?”

“Could you get the cheese out?” She requested. “Do you think it would be best to put it in a bowl? That way everyone can choose how much they want.” 

“That sounds like a plan.” You answered as you headed for the fridge.

Javier hadn’t budged from the spot you had left him in and you were fully aware of the fact that he was watching you.

You bent over to get the bad of shredded cheese out of the bottom drawer, knowing that your skirt had risen up the backs of your thighs. 

The glass door slid shut harshly as Javier ducked out of the kitchen quickly. 

 ———

 “What are you doing?” You questioned as you stepped out of the bathroom and found Javier lingering in the hallway. 

“I was waiting for you.” Javier answered before he closed the short distance between the two of you. He pressed you back against the wall. 

You pushed your fingers through his hair, looking up at him as your heart hammered in your chest. “You’re full of yourself today.”

“Baby, you’ve been driving me crazy all day.” He dragged his hands over your hips. Javier leaned in and kissed you and you melted from the intensity of it. 

Your fingers curled around the back of his neck, nipping lightly at his bottom lip as you pulled back. “We can’t do this here, Javi.” You breathed, brushing your nose against his. 

“They’re teaching the girls badminton,” Javier whispered, kissing you again. “They’re busy.” He ran his hand along your side. “You’ve been driving me crazy all day, baby.”

“Javier.” You warned softly, even as you dragged your fingers through his hair. “What has gotten into you?”

“That dress is really doing it for me.” Javier told you, sighing heavily as he took a step backwards heeding your warning.

“I wore it all of last summer.” You grinned at him, cocking your head to the side. “What changed?”

He pointed looked downwards at your stomach and you couldn’t help but laugh. “What?”

“You’re such a man.” Your hands went to your hips as you shook your head at him. “You wouldn’t be this horny if I had on one of those hideous maternity dresses.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “You could be dressed in one of those potato sacks and I’d still want you, baby. You look… gorgeous.”

You smiled warmly at him, taking a step towards him. You brushed your fingers over the column of his throat as you leaned up to kiss him again. “You’re such a jackass.” You muttered against his lips as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. 

Javier’s hands trailed from your waist to your hips as he pressed you up against the wall again. His tongue swept out over your lips as they parted, seeking entrance. His hand slid lower, rough fingers dragging over the smooth skin of your upper thigh, just beneath the hem of your dress. 

The sound of the glass door in the kitchen sliding closed jerked you out of the moment. You pushed at his chest gently, slipping out from between him and the wall. While neither Connie nor Steve would be surprised by the two of you making out — you really didn’t want to be that person. As tempting as it was.

You quietly retreated back into the bathroom, pulling the door shut as quietly as possible. You turned the sink on, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed with desire he’d started to stoke within you. 

You couldn’t blame him… you did look hot in the dress. 

“What are you doing Javi?” Steve questioned from the other side of the door. You bit your lip to keep from laughing. 

“Waiting for her.” Javier answered. “Morning sickness.” 

You coughed quietly, before shutting the water off. “It wasn’t the enchiladas!” You called out through the door. “Don’t worry Connie about it.” 

“I learned a long time ago not to comment on the cooking,” Steve retorted with a laugh. “I hope you feel better. I just came in to get some water.” 

You pulled the door open a crack, “Hey Javi, do you mind coming in here?” 

“Sure thing, baby.” Javier stepped inside and smirked once the door closed behind him. 

“Don’t get any ideas.” You warned him, even as your eyes swept over the length of him. It wasn’t fair how easily he could get you wound up. “We’re not doing this here.” Your hands went to your hips, staring him down. “But you are going to take me home. Sooner, rather than later.” 

Javier reached out and traced his fingertips over your cheekbone as he leaned in to kiss you. “You’ve given us the perfect excuse to leave early.” 

You grinned up at him. “I think fast on my feet.” 

“One of the many reasons I love you.” Javier pulled you close and kissed you softly.

“God, you’re such a fucking sap.” You let your arms drape over his shoulders, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re lucky I like this sappy shit most of the time.” You brushed your nose against his, “Take me home, Javi.” 

“All I can think about is ripping this dress off of you.” 

 ———

“Is it just the dress that flipped your switch?” You questioned as Javier pulled into the parking spot behind the condo building. 

Javier’s tongue darted out over his bottom lip as he tilted his head to look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “It’s just… you. The dress is just the icing on the cake.”

Your cheeks burned hotly as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Well we don’t have to pick Josie up until eleven tomorrow so…” You looked over the roof of the car at Javier. “I’m tempted to tell you to do your worst.”

“I already planned to.”

“You did attempt to fuck me at the Murphy’s… why am I surprised?” You rolled your eyes, resting your hand on your stomach as you walked around the car to join Javier. 

“We had the bathroom to ourselves.”

You shot him a look, “What is it with us and bathrooms?”

He shrugged a shoulder, slipping his hand into yours. “I dunno, baby. But all I’m thinking about right now is getting you into bed.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the specific tone he took. You had once jokingly called it a ‘panty dropper voice’ and… you weren’t mistaken. 

It was a sheer miracle that you both managed to get into the condo and back to the bedroom with most of your clothing still on. 

Javier was good at making you feel worshipped. He had been the same way when you were pregnant with Josie — the reverent ways that he would stroke your belly, the way he’d kiss you like you were everything. 

He always seemed to know exactly when you weren’t feeling particularly confident about your body. For the man he used to be, he was remarkably skilled at being tender. 

“This is what set you off, isn’t it?” You questioned as you laid back on the bed and stroked a hand over your still-covered stomach. “What? Does it appeal to your caveman sensibilities?” 

Javier climbed onto the bed, carefully situating himself above you so he wasn’t putting pressure on your stomach. “That’s only part of it.” He smirked, sliding his hand over the soft cotton that rested against your stomach. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

You bit down on your bottom lip as you looked up at him. You reached up and curled your hand around the back of his neck. “You make me feel gorgeous.”

Javier leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, before he trailed a line of kisses down your throat, his tongue sweeping out over your skin. 

He moved lower, kissing along your collarbone before he sat back and started to peel your dress up your hips. “You’ve got to wear this again, baby.”

“Trust me. I will.” You laughed softly as you sat up and pulled it off over your head. 

Javier climbed off the bed, fumbling with his belt buckle, before he worked his jeans off, followed by his shirt. 

He rejoined you on the bed, laying down beside you. “C’mere.” Javier rasped out, his fingers curling around your thigh as he pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, his nose brushing against you as his hand slipped between your thighs. “Relax, baby.”

You leaned against him, half fitted into his side as you let your legs fall open for him. He had his other arm curled around you, his palm resting against the curve of your stomach. 

You drew in a shaky breath as he brushed his fingers over you through your underwear. He groaned as he discovered just how slick you were. The heated looks he’d been giving you all day had you aching for him. 

“Is that all for me?” Javier questioned and you turned your head to kiss him, rather than answer. He drew a tight circle around that little bundle of nerves, making you moan against his mouth. 

Your hand trailed down his bare chest, nails gently scraping before you followed the path of hair that led beneath his boxers. You pulled back from the kiss, eyes on his face as you ghosted your hand over the outline of his cock, “Is that for me?” You mimicked his tone. 

Javier smirked at you, “What do you think?”

Your lashes fluttered as he slid his fingers under your underwear, working them through your sensitive folds. “I think you better not tease me.”

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and tore them down your hips. You wiggled to get them off, kicking the fabric down the bed. “I hate to disappoint you, baby. But I plan to take my time with you.”

Your lips parted with a breathy moan as he gave your cunt a swift swat. “Bastard.” You hissed out. 

“And you love it.” Javier retorted, pressing two fingers into you and hooking them just right. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, baby?” 

Your heart skipped a beat. You should’ve never told him how much you enjoyed it. “Javi, please.”

“Please what?”

You swallowed thickly and tilted your head to look at him. “Don’t stop.”

He drew his hand away from your stomach, fingers playing with your hair. “I won’t.” Javier promised you, his fingers slowly moving in and out of you. He pressed his lips against your temple as his thumb circled your clit. 

Your hips rocked upwards, your heels digging into the mattress as you reacted to his touch. “Fuck.. fuck.” He hissed out through clenched teeth. You reached down and rested your hand against his cock through his boxers, stroking him slowly. “I’m so close Javi,” You told him, tilting your head lazily to look up at him through your lashes. “Don’t stop.” 

And the bastard stopped abruptly. 

You keened, hips rocking upwards — chasing after his touch. “Javier.” You snapped, fingers tightening on around his cock. “I told you not to tease me.” 

Javier dragged your hand away from his cock, fingers curling around your wrist as he met your gaze with a wry smirk. “I have plans, baby. Don’t worry.” He released his hold on your wrist, reaching up the bed to grab a pillow. He lifted you up and placed the pillow beneath your head, dipping down to kiss you.

You relaxed back against the pillow and watched Javi as he started moving downwards. Your fingers played through his hair as he peppered your skin with kisses, a soft moan rising up in your throat as he ran his hands along your waist in his downwards pursuit. He settled between your thighs. 

“Goddamn,” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look like this?” He questioned, running his hands along your inner thighs. “You’re a mess.” 

You lifted your hips up off the bed, rolling them towards him. “I wonder why.” You shot back, glaring down at him, but it was hard to keep a straight face when he leaned forward and swept his tongue over you.

This time, Javier didn’t tease.

 ———

 “It’s surreal to think that this time next month we might be in our new bedroom.” You mused as you intertwined your fingers with Javier’s, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. 

“I know.” He chuckled, squeezing your shoulder, before he ran his hand down your arm and rested it against your stomach. “I’m the fucking luckiest man in the world.”

You laughed, “I’ve heard that a time or two.”

“Because it’s true.” He kissed your shoulder. “I did a lot of shit in Colombia that I’m not proud of, baby. And I feel like I shouldn’t get all this good shit because of it.”

“Didn’t we all do things we regret?” You questioned, tilting your head to look at him as you squeezed his hand. “But if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have Josie or Sofía.” 

“I know.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. 

“You’re allowed to be happy, Javi.” You brushed your fingers over the column of his throat. 

Javier pulled you in close. “I am happy, baby.” He pressed his lips to your temple. “I’m so fucking happy. And sometimes it doesn’t feel real. How good I’ve got it with you.”

“It is.” You promised him, “And I’ll keep telling you how much you deserve all of this if you go make me a grilled cheese and bring me a bowl of ice cream.”

Javier gave your hip a squeeze, “Anything you want, baby.”

[into-crazy]

More to the Madness Pt. 7

Ledger!Joker x Female Reader series

Summary: You and the Joker finally bang it out. Continuation to part 6, so if you haven't read that part, I suggest you do.

Warnings- Cursing, mentions of violence, NSFW, SMUT, oral sex, unprotected sex, brief degradation, overstimulation, brief knife play, ages 18+

You can find the other parts RIGHT HERE and through the “More to the Madness” tag lovelies💞💞

Grabbing your wrist he tugs you into him, "now, where was I? Ah right, that mouth of yours."

Placing both hands on your cheeks, he presses his lips to yours again. His hold moves down the sides of your chest, over the harness past your waist, to grab at your hips. Swinging your back from the tiny wall, he haphazardly walks you backwards towards the bedroom. All while not breaking the kiss.

Not having the patience to properly open the door, J kicks it open. Shoving you inside upon your avail. You grab at his collar, pulling him even closer. Moaning as you rolling your tongue along the painted scar splitting his bottom lip. A deep rumble vibrates within his chest, his grip on your hips tightening so hard it's sure to bruise. He slams your back against the room's wall, nothing blunt, but lacking a gentle manner. You stifle the groan brought by the impact, he traps you between his frame and the enclosure.

His long leg steps in between your legs, pushing back against your clothed heat as he presses his hips forward into yours. The action causing you to moan loudly. Joker chuckles at your needy moan, "ohh I like that pretty sound." He takes the opportunity to pull back and look at you. His half lidded gaze boring into your own while he breathes heavily. Your lips are smeared with red and black, your heart beating fast, and your eyes replaced the fury from earlier with lust. Deep, longing, starving lust. For him. "Let's hear it again, hm."

He flexes his muscular thigh against your pussy, inflicting an even better moan from your lips followed with a hushed, "fuck J.."

"Mm, much better than that nagging tone," he approves. Grabbing his shoulders, you shamelessly roll your hips. Grinding yourself onto his leg to get that much needed friction. You focus on the growing bulge under his purple slacks. He snickers, "desperate, aren't ya?" That tongue running deliciously over his wet lips.

"Me?" You breathe out cracking a smile, "you're one to talk, look at you!" You hint towards his confined erection.

With a dissatisfied snarl, Joker yanks his leg away. Taking both your wrists in one hand, he throws your limbs above your head. The other goes to wrap around your neck, the leather feeling amazing on your skin. "You're testing my patience doll," he growls dangerously, tightening his grip around your neck. A filthy whine escapes your throat, you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

Amusement takes over his face when he realizes you're enjoying this. "You, you like that don't ya? You ah, like having my hand around your neck?" He squeezes tighter in emphasis. You try your hardest to nod against his grasp, "mhm."

Joker tsks, "naughty, naughty. Most are usually afraid of this, but not you, huh? Noo, only dirty little sluts get off on being choked."

Balling your fists, you attempt to pull your wrists in his iron hold. Stopping your movements, you snarl, "I am not some slut." It's insulting, the way he said it. As though he's comparing you to just about anyone he could sleep around with. Some cheap throwaway to give him what he wants only to be tossed out right after.

He laughs mockingly at your misinterpretation. "You uh, seemed to have misread me doll," he acknowledges. "You're not just any slut, you're MY little slut." The hand on your throat moves to your abdomen, sliding it down until he cups your clothed sex. His tormenting touch having your eyelids fluttering. "Mine, and mine only.." He growls lowly, his gloved fingers begin to push and tease you. His twisted possessiveness makes you melt inside.

His only.

Those words rang around in your dizzy head.

J's mouth works down your neck, harshly kissing and sucking dark patches into your skin. Your chest brushes him, rising and falling through shuddered breaths. "Watch, I'll have you begging for me shortly. I want you to," he whispers into your skin. "You'll be begging me to fuck you. Crying, even. Then.." His fingers start to work harsh circles on your clit through the soft fabric. Luckily your cat suit was made of durable material, not bad for soft polyester. You use your best efforts to roll against his hand while he speaks. "That's when I'll break you."

"Is that a threat?" You question, a quirk in your brow.

"No. That-" he pauses, pulling back to peer into your eyes, "that is a promise." He leans in, taking your bottom lip between his yellow teeth. Biting down harshly, maintaining his carnal stare. Having no choice but to hold that stare, you sigh deeply in the thrill of your desire. He pisses you off, but he's got a valid point. There's no doubt you want this man before you, he can see past your façade, read it in your eyes, feel it in the way you move against him.

Joker finally releases his grip on your wrists, allowing them to drop and grab onto him. He pinches the zipper at the top of your cat suit, "let's ah, get this off." You both listen to the scratching sound as he slides it further down, past your collar, past your chest, down your stomach- until it gets caught on the harness. Not allowing him to unzip you all the way, he let's out a dissatisfied snarl. His fingertips tug the piece, "remove this now." The deep, commanding tone in his voice gets you to quickly unstrap the leather buckles at your thighs.

Taking a step back, Joker watches you impatiently while he works at removing his tie, vest, and.. suspenders?

"Cute suspenders," you giggle looking over the green diamond patterns on the strips, "have you always had those?" Unclipping the strap from your waist, you carelessly toss the harness containing your knives and gun to the floor. Just like that, your own line of defense, thrown off to the side. Your only chance at a fight in case anything goes wrong simply tossed, without any sense of hesitation.

"All apart of the look doll," he half teased, "now hurry up, before I use 'em to restrain you in a way you won't find too enjoyable." The thrill of being completely exposed to him rousing you to move faster. Though your curiosity peaked on what he had in mind with those straps. Undoing your boots, you use this opportunity to scan the room.

There wasn't much in here- a large bed at the back, one color stained pillow, no blankets or covers. A side table with a crooked bed lamp atop it, a few knifes and paper scraps alongside. An old dresser against the other wall. Two windows with the blinds shut, and yet another gas can discarded in the far corner. This must be where he sleeps when he gets the chance, you figured. In a way, it reminded you of your own safe house. Only yours is cleaner and.. homey.

Tossing your boots aside, J's hands are back on you. He finishes unzipping your attire, the metallic zipper ending just below your abdomen. You shimmy out of the red fabric- gloves included, kicking them across the room to join the pile, left only in a bra and seamless thong. Joker looks you over, admiring your almost bare body with a hungry look in his eyes.

You giggle working on his shirt buttons, "what? You didn't think I went commando, did ya?" A sly smile creeps across his face, he shoves your hand away. Dipping down to nip and kiss from your neck to your cleavage.

Suddenly his hand grabs at your hair, yanking your head back hard. "And you didn't think I'd let that sarcastic remark slide, did ya?" He pushes you down by your shoulders, placing you on your knees before him. Using his teeth to remove his gloves, he tosses them to the side, paying no mind where they land. His rough, paint speckled hand grabs your chin harshly, making you look at him. Joker stands proudly over you, "let's put your disrespectful mouth to uh, better use." Using his free hand, he unfastens his belt.

You watch in mouth gaped excitement while he allows his pants to fall to his feet. His thick cock protruding against the flimsy fabric of his boxers. Fuck he's huge! Ran through your mind. You know he is, and you haven't even seen it yet.

"Now.." He uses a grip in your strands to push you towards his confined erection, "how about you be a good girl an make it up to me, huh." It wasn't a request, it was a demand. One, upon many others you're more than pleased to carry out.

Keeping eye contact, you pull his boxers down so they join his pants below. Once his cock is free, you shift your gaze to look at it. His impressive member, stands fully erect in front of your wide eyes. His angry, red tip leaking beads of precum. The sight alone makes your core ache with need, to be filled with his cock. You run your soft hands up his strong, bare thighs. Wrapping one under his head, you run your wet tongue flat along the underside of his length. Joker groans deeply at your light touch. Taking his tip into your lips, you lick his precum clean off, getting that first taste of him. Swirling your tongue around it, sliding your hand to grip his base. With a huff, J quickly thrusts completely into your mouth. Tip hitting the back of your throat, you gag on his cock. Blinking rapidly at the tears prickling the corners of your eyes while your saliva coats his length.

"Would ya look at that?" He cackles wickedly, the back of his hand caressing your cheek in a way similar to adornment. "How pretty you look with my cock in your mouth." Joker then grabs ahold of both your buns, he starts thrusting in and out your mouth. He especially likes the leverage your hairstyle provides, they're like handles making it all the easier for him to control you. Excess saliva dripping down your mouth and his length while he continues to fuck your mouth. Tears streaming down your cheeks, taking the fake one's made of the black makeup along with them.

His girth makes it impossible to breathe, especially now that he's knocking the air from you with his constant pounding. So far down your mouth and throat each time, your nose brushes his pubic hair with every thrust. Only when you're on the verge of passing out would Joker pull back and allow you a breath before slamming completely back in. He's using you entirely for his pleasure and you love every second of it. Even through the blur of your tears could you make out the gritting of his teeth, the deep, fevered look in his face. And through the lewdly wet, slapping sounds could you hear his erratic breaths and throaty groans. It only brings you to crave him so much more.

You work your tongue strokes best as you can with his movements. As his breathing grows shallower, you can tell he is close. To be able to bring this destructive man to pure ecstasy would be a godsend. Grabbing his hips, you attempt to hold him close so he could finish in your mouth. Swallowing as much of him as you could.

Joker can feel what your trying to do, but he has no intention to cum in your mouth. With a harsh tug of your hair, he pulls you off his dick with a slick pop! A line of spit trailing from your flushed lips to the head of his cock. Your makeup had ran down your face, you wipe it with your forearm. Feeling extra defiant, you look up straight at him, obscenely licking your moistened lips.

A quiet chuckle emerges from him as he clamps your chin. Calloused fingers digging into the plush of your cheeks, he tugs you back to your feet. Shoving you hard against the wall, kissing you sloppily. He whispers, "nice try bunny." That's a new one. "Trying to ah, make me cum in that sweet mouth of yours. That's cute." Suddenly, a wicked grin pulls across his scar split cheeks at an idea. He places his hand firm on your chest, "stay still."

He reaches down to search through the pocket of his discarded pants. You stay put like he asked, fingers splaying on the flat surface behind. What the hell is he doing? Your thoughts are answered when he pops back up. The distinct clicking sound of a switchblade brings you in focus on what he has. Yep. An all black switchblade. Joker waves the sharp article carelessly in your view, smirking at your flabbergasted reaction.

He places the blade against your throat, applying just enough pressure for it not to break your skin. You let out a shuddered sigh, focusing on the cool sting of the blade. Initially, it alarmed you. Within reason, one simple move and he could end you there. But if there's one thing you know about the Joker, it's that he likes to draw moments out. Take his time, savor such intimate details. As unpredictable as the man is, if he wanted to end your life, he would have done it a long time ago. Then again, there's no telling what he'll do next.

Joker peers into you, "you scared of me?" He whispers deeply, a mad look in his blackened eyes.

Another sigh, you answer, "no."

"No?" Joker repeats. "A knife held to your throat doesn't scare you?" he taunts, pushing the blade further. But you don't budge, you stay still. With a curious hum, he eases up so you could answer.

"The action alone, yes," you return honestly, "but the man in front of me, no. I'm not afraid of you J." Spoken with a hidden message, one he instantly picked up on. I trust you.

He drags the blade down your collarbone, sliding it under the right strap of your bra. He holds your eyes. A quick flick of his wrist, and the strap snaps. Balling your fists at your sides, you whimper softly as he transfers the weapon to the other strap. Slicing through the piece, the blade barely misses your chin with the quick motion. The shredded fabric falls down your waist, he removes it completely freeing your breasts.

J's tongue grazes his lips at the view of your naked chest. "Mmhm, perfect.." he huffs beginning to rub your breasts, with the knife still in hand. He manages to keep the edges facing away from cutting into you. His thumbs graze your nipples, peaking in his touch. "And ya kept this gorgeous body from me underneath all those layers? Shame, y/n." He takes one between his thumb and pointer, pinching the sensitive bud. You wince, bringing your chest upward. He bends down, instantly soothing it with his tongue, running flat along your breast.

You tangle your hand into his greasy green locks. "J.." you moan in response. He pulls his mouth away, leaving traces of his face paint on your breasts. Bringing the knife to the thin band of your thong, he tears the soaked article right off. You hiss as the blade nicks through your skin in the process, drawing blood.

Peering down at the laceration on your lower stomach. Deep enough for blood to trickle out. You were about to say something when Joker quickly tosses the switchblade aside and moves to one knee, inches away from your dripping heat. He takes a moment to look at the small wound. Grabbing your hips, he licks up the trail of the slash mark. Relishing in the metallic tang that is your blood. You whimper, while his tongue lingers on your stomach. The feral display only he can make erotic. No other man has done- or will ever be capable of doing- what this man is surging within you.

Having his mouth so close to where you need him most makes your pussy throb. You knead his firm shoulders, rolling your hips towards him. But he purposely avoids your desperate intentions. His squeezing on your hips keep you from any more movements as he glares up at you. An ominous look reminding you that even in this position below you, he is still in control here. And, he's teasing you to your limits, he knows how badly you want him to attend to your trembling heat. Prolonging how far you'll go before you break. You can't take it anymore, time to put your pride aside and ask.

"Joker?" You aim to grab his attention.

"Hm?" He hums, you feel his bumpy scars brush against your stomach.

"I-I can't take it. Will you please just do something?" You look at him with plead written all over.

Joker's hand rubs down your thigh, the roughness drawing a hitch in your throat. He smiles smugly, "I am doing something. You're gonna have to tell me what you want, and uh, ask nicely for it." He tilts his head slightly to the side to taunt you further.

You whisper, "touch me, please-" Your pleads cut short when his hand strikes your thigh, right on the verge of your ass, eliciting a loud SMACK! You cry out from the sting.

He soothes over the area, "you're gonna have to be more specific doll. How do you want me to touch you?"

"With your fingers, your mouth, your tongue," you started rambling whatever you could think of. "Anything just touch me!" He strikes you again.

"Beg for me," he commands.

"Come on. Please, J," you fret.

Another strike.

Joker muses, "not good enough, try again."

The underside of your thigh is starting to glow red from the constant contact from his hand. The bite of the pain mixing deliciously with the passion coursing through your body. Overcome with your arousal do you give in, pleading "P-please J, I'm aching- please, I need you to touch me!"

Satisfied with your pleas, Joker throws your leg over his shoulder. Pushing and steading you against the drywall. "See? Now that wasn't so hard." He sneers dipping his head between your thighs, hooking his arm under your thigh that hung over him. He opens you up, the fingers of his other hand spreading your pussy lips. His rugged breath brushed hotly past your lips as he gazed entirely at your womanhood. For a moment, your self-consciousness hit you. Feeling every bit of insecure with having his face this close to your exposed sex. The uncertainty died at his next words.

"Such a pretty little pussy you have, sweetheart. You're so wet for me." And with that, his tongue was instantly on you. Dragging from your dripping opening to your clit. Flicking the swollen bud two times before pressing the wet muscle firmly on it, leaving you moaning and writhing in his grasp. He ran his tongue up the same way as before, only this time he latched his entire mouth to your clit, his muffled hum sending vibrations straight to your core.

His tongue went to prod at your hole. Starring straight at you while he began fucking you with the muscle, lapping down your sweet juices. His hand sprawled on your abdomen, with his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit. You buck your hips to meet his strokes. Wet, slurping noises fill your ears.

"Joker! Ahh, fuck, fuck!" You moan his name aloud, not caring who hears you at this point.

Removing his tongue, he replaces it with two fingers. The slickness from your arousal allowing them to ease in. Pushing them in all the way to his knuckles, he growls at the way your cunt clamps onto his digits. "Shit," he huffs, "your pussy is this excited with just my fingers? You must ah, really want me bad then." He moves his fingers in and out of you, switching between curling them against that spot that made you weak. Attentively jotting your reactions to each specific movement. "You'll wrap so nice and tight around my cock, won't ya?"

"Hnnn- uhh, yes J," you sputter. Having no choice but to hold onto his shoulder and the wrist snug on your thigh for support. Even more so, now that his mouth added to the vigorous sensation, rolling over your throbbing bud. Quickly climbing that pinnacle leading to pure ecstasy. Your breath is growing shallow, body on the verge of locking up, you're so close. Just when you were about to reach your climax, Joker halts his movements. Stilling his fingers and removing his mouth, cutting you off from your needed release.

"No! Damn it, why!?" You whine at the abrupt loss. Slamming your palm on the weak enclosure behind you. J laughs coldly, "Only good girls get to cum. And ah, so far you haven't proven to me that you've earned it."

"I'll be good." You reply.

"My good little girl?" He presses on, teasing you with a slight curl of his fingers inside you. Your back arching completely off the wall.

"Yes, yes, I'm your good girl! Yours only! Please Joker!" You damn near shout your cries. He wanted you to beg, well he's got it.

"Atta girl, you learn fast." Joker's fingers begin to move like before, his mouth goes back to lapping your clit. Repeatedly curling his fingers to bring you to your release.

Your grip on his wrist tightens. "Yes, oh yes, d-don't stop! Please, don't stop!" You cry relentlessly.

"Do it, cum on my fingers," Joker commands along your trembling heat, "do it, come on bunny."

After a few more of his merciless finger strokes, you reach your peak. Releasing all over his hand and mouth. With your stance on one leg, you certainly would have fallen if it weren't for his solid hold. Keeping you from toppling over. He continues to draw out your orgasm, licking up your juices. Sucking the remainder off his soaked digits as he stands back on his feet. His chin is glistening, the red and white on the lower half of his face smudged and removed in some areas. "I bet ya feel as good as ya taste," he beams.

"Get over here and find out." You grab ahold of his loosened collar, tugging him in an open mouthed kiss. Tasting yourself as J shoves his tongue into your mouth. His hard cock presses against your abdomen while he squeezes the underside of your thighs. He hoists you up so your legs wrap around his waist, earning a surprised yelp from you. Successfully spreading your legs, he lines himself up with your waiting entrance. His thick head parting your slick walls.

Pausing momentarily to stare into you, he snarls, "how bad do you want me to fuck you?" His hands keep you grounded. An obvious 'proceed with caution' sign in his question, ya sure you wanna go through with this?

Your hands slide up to hook behind his neck. "S-so bad," you whine, "I need to feel you inside me, please, fuck me!"

Without a warning, Joker thrust himself into you entirely. You let out a sharp cry as he smashed you hard on the wall. The sudden stretch hurting in the best of ways. Only able to make out the deep groan that rumbled in his chest at the warm feeling of your pussy, wrapped tight around his length. His hands moved to your hips. Gritting his teeth, he pulled back slowly, and thrust back in with a new speed. One that built up rather quickly, leaving you mewling in his grasp. The pain fading into pleasure as you grind your hips wildly against his own, mind delirious on the rapturous push and pull of his cock. The overall sensation in general, unleashing all that pent up tension on one another.

His breath all over your face while he continued to drive into you with reckless force. There's no question, Joker was dominant in all his aspects. Which would include sex. The same amount- if not more- of unhinged and rigorous nature. Would be nearly impossible to surpass that and try to take control over him. You like to have some kind of control yourself. However, when it comes to the Joker, you're more than willing to submit. It feels perfectly right with him. It feels natural.

"Was this the fix you needed bunny?" J breathed out keeping his brutal pace. "For me to fuck the attitude right outta ya? Should a done this earlier. Tell me how it feels." He's got you practically bouncing on his cock, entranced with the way your breasts bounce in sync to his thrusts. He snakes a hand between your bodies to furiously rub your clit.

"Y-you ah! You feel so good," you cry out, running one of your hands through his sweat filled hair, the other clinging behind his neck. "So good!" He was hitting you so deep, bringing you closer to another orgasm. "Fuck- I'm close-"

Joker groans at your proclamation. "Go on, I wanna feel you cum on my cock." His words laced with delirious intent. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, biting down into the flesh.

The concoction of drawn pleasure and burning pain sending you over the edge. Your walls contract around his cock as you came, pulling him even deeper. Thighs wedging his waist to yours. He continues driving into you through your waves of ecstasy. Releasing strained groans at the way your cunt squeezes his cock. His pace never letting up, in his thrusts and his assault on your overly sensitive bud. It's becoming too much. The overstimulation, the soreness in your back from the unforgiving slamming on the surface.

Finding a sense of energy, you grab a handful of his locks. Pulling his face from your neck with a rigorous tug. The swift action drawing a gravelly moan from his mouth, accompanied with a slight roll in his eyes as he snapped his hips up rather more sharply. His moan. It was a sound completely new to your ears. And in that split second, you took pride that you had managed to lure it out.

Slowing his movements, Joker laughed when he looked at you- actually laughed. Short but piercing cackle in a manner resembling he was impressed. You twist the feeling back into your shoulders. "Ohh there's that spark. What's the matter doll? This position hard on ya?" He laughs again, seeing you grow antsy, trying to push your upper body off the wall yet still trying to ride his cock. "Tell ya what, cum for me again," he muses, "and I might consider rewarding you with a ah, softer surface, hmm."

Bearing the offer in mind, you could only manage a couple eager nods as he regains his speed. Clinging onto him for dear life as he brings you to another body shattering orgasm. Clawing at his scalp while you scream into the hot flesh surging from beneath his collar.

Groaning in approval, Joker pulls out. But he isn't done with you yet. He keeps you in his arms as he hastily walks over to the bed. Kneading the roundness of your ass. He tosses you on top of the mattress. Still in your haze, you spread for him, wanting more. Needing more. He brought himself over you, wedging his frame between your legs that instinctively went to wrap around his waist. Pulling him closer as he reenters you, digging his jagged nails into the plush of your hips. Rolling his own against you rather steadily with long, deep strokes. It actually seemed affectionate, like he was simply relishing the sensation of your velvety walls sheathing tight around his cock.

His hand glides it's way to your neck, gripping it. With a sharp inhale, he shifted his hips to pound into that spot which made you scream. He continued hard with that. Knocking the air from your poor lungs, leaving you a winded mess. Nothing but broken cries and moans leaving your lips.

Joker peers right into you, a menacing look in his piercing gaze. He growls, "who do you belong to?" In that scarily sexy possessive voice. His rough thumb granting your sensitive bud with satisfying friction. Making it all the more difficult for you to answer. By the rapid way he rubbed you and his desperate thrusting, he was close. You could tell. Also by the pain filled strain in his face, he was holding back. Not ready to let go until you gave him the answer he wanted. Desired. Craved. Demanded.

"Y-you! I belong to you- fuck! I-I'm yours!" You moan aloud, not an ounce of hesitation in your jarring voice. "I'm yours Joker!" Everything felt amazing- so surreal- in that moment. Like nothing else mattered, but bringing this man to completion alongside you. Which hit you hard like a freight train, you came violently with a broken moan. The powerful orgasm racking your entire body from the inside out as you came messily around him.

Joker surged forward, swallowing your moans as he kissed you. To the best of your dizzy abilities, you kissed him back. His weight nearly crushing you. He placed his sticky forehead against yours, chasing after his own release. One powerful thrust deep inside you, he came with a trembling moan. The sight of his pleasure contorted face frightening in an entirely beautiful way. His cock throbbing while his hot seed filled you. Some of it seeping out, gliding down and falling onto the mattress below. The feeling made you shudder. He rolled his hips into you a couple more times, making sure to empty into you.

You felt so warm, so full. He gave you one last gentle kiss before pulling out. You whimpered weakly at his movements. He shifted to plop down right next to you, laying outstretched on his back to collect himself. His arm went under you, allowing your head to rest atop his bicep. The same arm reaching to rub the side of your head. Your hand slid under his shirt to graze his chest.

Was quite the aftermath. You both lay spent, chests heaving as you catch your breaths. Warmed with sweat, hair a mess, makeup worn. Clothes and weapons scattered the floor. Your body covered in various marks- bruises, red patches, a slash mark, cherry topped with J's red and white paint splotches. True to his word- he broke you. Meanwhile the only marks on Joker were your lipstick trails and a couple bruises on the areas you nipped, kissed, and sucked. It was a mess.

A wonderful, chaotic mess.

Joker was the first to get up. You sat up, attempting to stand from the bed, but J insisted you stay seated. You clearly needed more time to recover. He slipped on his boxers before grabbing a couple things from the dresser drawers. An extra dress shirt, a couple rags, and a bottle of antiseptic.

He handed you a rag to clean yourself with. And the shirt, identical to the one he wore, to put on- considering he tore your undergarments to shreds. You wrapped it snug around your frame, not bothering with the buttons.

The cut on your stomach wasn't deep, therefore it didn't require attention. Regardless, he cleaned it anyway. He had done it all silently while sitting next to you, neither said a word. You looked an absolute wreck, that you were sure of. A plethora of thoughts swarmed your head. Many questions, different emotions..

What happens now?

Joker decided to break the ice as he finishes wiping your cut, "so uhh.. no more hard feelings?" Tongue running over his paint smeared lips, he glances at your face. Parts of his skin exposed due the the make up being rubbed away. Least you weren't the only one that looked a total wreck.

You calmly ponder before replying, "I.. guess not." Circling back to what you were upset about in the first place. Maybe it was the post orgasmic bliss that interfered with your thinking. Putting you in a better mood. Or perhaps it was the fact that you shouldn't have been so mad to begin with. Yeah, the fact he had you followed is enough to trigger you. But looking past the initial fury clouds, it shouldn't come as a surprise. It's understandable. You are part of Joker's crew. So he'll keep tabs on you, like everyone else.

"You guess?" Joker pushes for a better answer. He appeared to have a million things going through his busy mind, yet he didn't speak them.

Ya see, that's the thing. You're not like the rest of the crew. Apart, yes. But you're nothing near, nothing close to them. Joker knows this, he's just as aware about it as you are. If he really thought you to be a threat to his operations, he would've gotten rid of you. Simple as that. None of this having you followed, time and energy invested in a task deemed pointless- since his goons are at his disposal. One smidge of trouble, disappointment, attitude, disloyalty.. and they're killed off. The only one you checked on that list is definitely the attitude, and it was merely enough to get on his nerves. Had it been any of the others that given him the amount which you have, they'd be a rotting corpse by now.

So this must actually mean something.

Or maybe it doesn't.

Nonetheless, you hadn't the mind to ponder deep into it. There'll be plenty of time later. As Joker simply stood to collect his discarded attire to redress. Handing you your red cat suit in the process. You smile up at him, "water under the bridge, J." He returned a grin back. A cocky one at that, but one that didn't mask malicious intent.

End of part 7. I hope that wasn’t too bad!