#deranged love

[physicalturian]

[18+] Salvaged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 5

[The plot of this work follows previous works in this series] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [Varied POV/chapter]

Words : 14 818

Playlist : link

Archiveofourown

Warnings : Reader-Insert // Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con // Canon-Typical Violence // Graphic Description // Graphic Description of Corpses // Dubious Ethics // Explicit Language // Blood and Injury // Violence // Torture

---

My throat is constricted, the air is tight in my chest, I feel like I’m drowning. I don’t know where I am.

I look around, it’s dark. There is music in another room. It’s eerie. I don’t know where I am.

Why is it empty? The room I find myself in is unfamiliar, it’s lavish, with intricate decorations on the walls and chandeliers. One is hanging on by a thread above my head, I’m underneath it, staring up at it. What if it falls on me? What if I die? My vision blurs as I get lost in the glimmer of the crystals. I don’t know where I am. 

There’s a loud thud somewhere. It’s not in this room. It echoes loudly—I look towards the source of the sound in panic, I need to find it. My heart is beating so fast and I’m sobbing. I can still hear the music in the room and voices talking, but it’s empty. I start walking, I go through a doorway and don’t recognize anything. I don’t know where I am!

A deafening scream. It’s right next to my ear—am I screaming? I look around and see myself in the large mirror. It’s not me. It’s not me. It’s not me!

My hands fly to my face, it follows my reflection. I smile, I frown—my expressions are not reflected. It remains the same. It’s her. Shiho’s face is staring right back at me. Her mouth is wide open, so are her eyes. Her skin lost its glow, it’s gloomy, it’s nothing like how I see her. She’s not looking at me—her mouth moves, “I don’t know where I am.” then her eyes are set on mine.

The mirror is gone, I’m in a wide corridor, it’s endless. I look ahead, there is something on the red carpeted floor. I’m right next to it and I crouch.

Someone is here with me, they’re holding her hand. She passed out on the floor. She’s dead.

“You fucking killed her.”

His eyes are red, he’s crying, he’s angry and I’m hyperventilating. I’m telling him something but I can’t hear. (It’s unfair, it’s not my fault, you—Shibata laced everything! I ran as fast as I could—You got her addicted!)

“He had to go back and it’s because of you.” He tells me. (No, no, no don’t say that, I didn’t do anything, I didn’t–)

It’s raining. Everyone is wearing black, there are so few people. It’s cold, morose and off-putting, it shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t have ended up like this. Not this soon.

Rai is by Shiho’s casket, her hand set on the lacquered wood, she looks up at me, “When will it end? This is all your fault.”

I’m screaming at her, everyone is looking at me. They’re all around me, closer and closer, talking together. The blame, the guilt, my heart, everything is heavy. I’m falling to my knees–

I woke up to silence. There were no screams, no music, no rapid footsteps, no cries. No one.

It was strange, but I was getting used to it.

It was the third time I had this nightmare this past week, except this time it was much more vivid. Waking up in a cold sweat was not something I was used to, nor something I wanted to get used to, and yet, I knew the drill by now. Getting out of bed, I put on some music to try to drown the thoughts that were at the forefront of my mind, perhaps I was even trying to flush the guilt away. Deep down, I was starting to blame myself—no, it had started long ago, but it had built up into a big enough feeling that I could not ignore it anymore.

Pushing the thoughts away was harder to do as days went on, there was this pressure in my mind that told me to either turn off the fire, let the water turn cold and fold, or to open the lid and let it all pour out. It was exhausting.

There was some comfort in the fact that for over a week now, nothing had happened. The hunt of Shibatas was still on, the death toll had anything but decreased. With the numerous overdose cases and bodies found on the streets of the city, the two gangs clashing and the knowledge of a mole among our ranks having slipped out—the infighting, how could it stop? The theory was not that Hanma or any of the informed executives had acted as whistleblowers, no, they were trustworthy enough. Mikey had been careful to only let very few people know—the current theory was that the mole had simply let it slip out. Hanma had gotten too close to discovering who the bastard was and, out of cowardice, they must have used it as a way to make everyone doubt everyone in Bonten. This lack of trust had many members turn against each other—but for some reason, not in every division.

The special divisions seemed intact, they seemed to know who to trust and perhaps that confidence came from their leaders. The defensive unit, Kakucho’s, was more than alright, nothing had happened among the ranks. The Haitanis’ attack unit was also intact which surprised me for some reason.

Hanma’s commando unit… the name seemed prestigious, it’s true, but their work was anything but. It was them who did the dirty work, it was on them that everything relied. If they left anything behind, it could be traced back to whoever had done the crime—they were the backbone of Bonten. His unit was fine. Hanma had to meet with them for one of the rare times to straighten things up and make them understand that whatever doubt they were having had to be brought to him so he could tear it down.

But the remaining divisions? Whatever the mole had said only sowed the seed of doubt in those groups, the words they had used were almost… incriminating. It was not my duty nor my mission to seek them out—Hanma was convinced he knew who it was—but my guess, while vague, was that they belonged to one of those lower divisions. Power could be a reason for being a sellout, right? Couldn’t take simply being the leader of a division, maybe they wanted to be an executive but it hadn’t happened yet and so they sought out the best way to get that promotion—by betraying one’s own organization.

It was nothing productive. It was a shortcut but to what end? Now Shibata would know the fucker was greedy enough to betray the biggest criminal organization for power—they would know bribery was a foolish sin.

The more I thought of it, the more I believed the traitor to be insane, which ultimately was ironic coming from the woman who saw her dead friend. Not once did I consider leaving Bonten, I was more than aware I would die here—alone or not, there was no escaping it and I knew it. Sooner or later something bad would happen, maybe that’s why I wanted to make the best out of it and, if I had the choice, by Hanma’s side. So to see someone choose to leave, only to jump straight in another wolves’ den that would not guarantee the same level of prestige, income and protection? That seemed irrational, unthought through, and a hectic move.

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t add up. I didn’t know how to explain it, but something was off.

It was no use to think about it further than needed. It was not my responsibility, but I still texted my thoughts to Hanma, knowing full well that with how busy he was I wouldn’t get an answer anytime soon. Had he not been occupied, he would have simply repeated himself by telling me it was not my place to think. But there was no helping it. I wanted to be of use, and part of me felt hurt, even after spending so much time with him, at how he kept me so dumb. I knew it was for my sake, but I hated this feeling.

To think that he would still treat me as such after the conversation we had a few weeks earlier—after I’d told him that I needed to prove myself, that they all looked at me snidely—was simply exhausting. To some extent, he was also treating me differently than ever before, as if I would break, but he was being foolish.

As if I would break? I had to laugh.

I had long since shattered, had I not?

That’s how I saw myself—in pieces, held together by so few things and yet, something deep inside me was still fighting to come back.

I needed to smother her to kill that spark, because only I knew what kept her alive, how she worked, how to make her disappear. And if Hanma still wanted her around… I would  give it to him. It shouldn’t be too hard. I love him enough to give him what he wanted and to become who I needed in order to feel free.

I wanted to be myself with him, for him, and yet he held me down. Why was he trying to clip my wings after molding me into one of his creations? To be shunned and thrown aside after giving him all my unconditional love—was the apple starting to rot? I needed to cut the decay away if I wanted to enjoy my well-earned fruit. That’s why she needed to go. She was making this harder than necessary.

My venture down the rabbit hole was quick to get interrupted. I supposed I was thankful for the sound that came from my phone. Finishing getting dressed, I grabbed it from the bed and looked at it confused; an address and a time was all that was in a text.

No clue of the sender, and without it saved in my contacts, I had no idea who it was.

Asking Hanma would lead me nowhere; instead, I pressed someone else’s number and waited a few rings until he picked up.

“What do you need?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Koko, I sent you a phone number, can you tell me who it is?”

He huffed a chuckle, then I heard him shuffle with the phone for a moment before bringing it back to his ear, “What am I? Your secretary?”

“Please, do you know who it is—yes or no.”

“Yeah, it’s Mikey. Why?” He asked.

I simply told him I received a text with very little information in it, which made him go, “Are you telling me you never got any texts from him in all this time you’ve been with us?” He laughed almost mockingly—or was it disbelief hidden behind some condescendence? It was as if the surprise came from only now getting personally in touch with Mikey, after all, why hadn’t it happened sooner?

Because I was not enough until now.

Ah, so what changed, in your opinion?

I guess I’ll find out once I get there.

I gave Koko a scoff, “Ask him that, not me. I usually get errands through you or Sanzu—or Hanma. So…” I trailed off.

“Yeah, well, don’t be late. It’s going to be something fun then.” Being ominous was not helping the slowly rising anxiety that I felt, but giving in to whatever panic was building up was not useful in the long run. With a tight smile, I replied, “I guess you’re not going to tell me shit about what’s going on.”

“Hey, see! You’re getting smart, woman, gotta have the brains if you don’t have any fucking brawns, right?” He teased. Our friendship felt more natural. It had gotten a dent, for the little our friendship had been developing at the time, when I killed Rai—but now it was enjoyable. I could see a certain side of him that was less caretaking and more blunt, more… himself, perhaps. I had this naive image of him as a mere business man for Bonten, but it had been a wrong idea because he was here for a reason, and that meant he got the job done, no matter what. It also meant that, like all of them, he had been bathed in this violence since very young, the only thing differing him from the others was that he seemed more socially apt. 

“And you’re no use for me,” I started jokingly, “Who knows, maybe I’ll tell you what happened… probably not though, since you’re so secretive and shit.”

“Bet, it’s the same for me. I’ll know everything in less than 2 hours after your little one on one. Now, some of us have shit to do, don’t piss yourself.”

I didn’t have time to wish him farewell when he hung up and I was left with just enough time to get ready and get in contact with one of the lower ranks to drop me at the spot. Not knowing who I could trust, I decided to text Shiho if their driver could come and get me instead—surely Shiho and Sanzu could be trusted, right? Hanma hadn’t given me any proper instructions, but those two had no reason to betray Bonten.

Shiho: oh sure tihng babe sendnig him rn

Shiho: where off to

Shiho: ?

I thanked her and explained the situation without giving too much detail. She had taken the habit of talking about Mikey as “King mentally ill” since her surprisingly intuitive thoughts on the man was that out of all of them, he was the worst. She would argue that since he stayed quiet most of the time, nothing could be read on his face, that he was probably a sociopath or something along those lines. To her, the others gave off enough warning flags by being who they were, people could see it from the violence they’d show, how they would react and clearly from the businesses they led. Hanma was at the top of her list of people who would probably not be too much of a threat, considering how obviously unwell he was.

But Mikey? 

Mikey was always so sweet when he talked to people other than his executives, he seemed to be fit enough to go about in society, which was what scared her, she would tell me. I don’t know why she feared him so much, he had been nothing but caring towards me, and more than caring towards herself too, but I kept her words in the back of my head. I was unsure it would be of much use since, while being emotionless, he was still kind.

A few minutes after my exchange with Shiho, I saw the car pull up in front of the house and put on my jacket before getting out. I had yet to get used to this being my new home but it still felt much safer than the apartment, more spacious too.

While I had met the driver once already, I was not fully convinced it had been him who had driven us on that night, so I faked texting someone and took a discreet picture of him before knocking on the window of the car.

Nodding at me, he pulled down the window and asked for my name, so I nodded, “Who sent you?” I asked. I needed him to tell me it was Shiho or Sanzu, any other answer would be off and I didn’t want to lead him in the correct direction. Sure, I sounded paranoid, but I had all the rights to be with what was going on.

“The Mad Dog, ma’am. Didn’t you request this?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did. Just making sure!” I told him with a polite smile. It was a smile that was nowhere near returned as he gave me a judgmental side glance as if I was insane. There was no need to justify myself, I was being careful. That’s all.

After that, the car ride was not as long as I thought it would be. In less than 20 minutes, accounting for the heavy traffic, we had arrived at the destination Mikey had decided we should meet. With a thank you to the driver, I got out of the car and noticed Sanzu by the window on the second floor. It was certain he had seen me too, although his eyes were anywhere but on me—he did not gesture for me to get inside.

All I needed was the courage to take the first step inside the building and was surprised by the lack of security around the hall. It was a rather simple building, so simple no one would think the head of a huge organization such as Bonten would be residing here, and yet here he was. It made one wonder what could two men do if people decided to barge in, what if there were ten, twenty of them? Granted, Mikey and Sanzu were anything but simple men, they were weapons—guiltless, feared, so efficient they were unmatched should one face them unarmed. But these weapons that both Mikey and Sanzu were, they would never be used. They were unreliable to everyone but themselves, that’s how people saw them. Ruthless criminals, a term that could not inspire anything but wariness, yet I trusted them both implicitly.

Stepping inside the elevator, I continued my pondering.

After all, I was still here after so long. There had to be someone to thank for that, it hadn’t happened just because of myself. Should I be grateful for the two of them for taking care of me from afar all these years? Should Mikey be thanked for not sending me on dangerous errands? Or Sanzu for keeping Shiho, my anchor, safe? If not for him, I would have probably lost her long ago, and myself in the process.

Or maybe I should thank Hanma for never leaving my side. His advice had been all the more useful for my survival, especially the one that suggested changing my mindset—something I was still slowly in the process of doing.

The door opened silently to a minimalist apartment, one could hardly believe it was inhabited from how impersonal it was. There were no trinkets, no cups or anything left on tables or counters, it was cold. I was almost certain it was for sale until Mikey walked out of a room fully dressed with a towel draped around his neck, his hair still slightly wet from the shower he’d probably just left.

He gave me a short smile, “You are here. Right on time.”

I gave him a small nod and half of a bow. I wasn’t sure if I should treat him as good as estranged or on a more friendly term, “Hello, yes, good morning.” Looking around, I made a confused sound, “Isn’t Sanzu here, I thought I saw him by the window?”

Gesturing for me to follow him, Mikey led us to the living room, “Mmh, he is in another room, he had to take a call.” he explained too ominously for my taste before once more gesturing with one hand at the sofa, inviting me to take a seat as he did so. I stayed standing as he started talking, “You have no idea what this is about.” It was not a question, it was a statement that made me close to snapping much more sarcastically than I had just now by telling him half-jokingly with a nervous chuckle, “It tends to happen when one doesn’t receive details on…” my voice started dying out. Being funny was not as good of an idea as I thought it would be, slowly my words simply felt numb on my tongue and just as fast, I sat next to Mikey.

Being so close to him felt off. He felt like royalty—I did not wish to make one wrong move, so I put a good but not too strange distance between us. Deep inside, it felt like touching him could hurt me physically, burn me. After all, the man was the living representation of all that was wrong in society, and wanting to fix it meant having a great understanding of it all, in depth.

One would never wish upon one’s worst enemy such a deep and broken knowledge of all that was bad in this world.

Ignorance was a bliss, they said, because knowledge was a curse.

So many wished to forget and to return to this blissful state of innocence before they knew.

To forget someone cheated. 

To forget your friend was raped at a party you both attended.

To forget the death of someone close.

All only to bask in the goodness of the memories they left behind.

Ignorance was a bliss one wished to feel once the pain ingrained itself deep in their very flesh and bones upon learning about all these atrocities. 

But I would have no such privilege of bliss. I had been cursed with horrendous knowledge and sights since that very first night of meeting them all. To seek comfort in cluelessness would be too foolish of me, I could only make use of all of the things I knew or I’d go insane.

“Are you alright?” I heard Mikey say at first, before adding softly, “You’re far away, almost nostalgic.” The sweet smile on his lips was wrong, he never directed this to me, so why now? “Time has flown by since your first mission as an informant, hasn’t it?” 

An uncharismatic snort escaped my nose before I even had the time to stop it, quickly I added nervously, “Had it been someone else, I’d have been called a mole. But that’s just semantics, isn’t it?” There was some irony in those terms and it all depended on which side I was on. Had I been Bonten’s enemy, nothing would have gone like this.

Mikey chuckled, “Then aren’t you glad to have chosen the right side?” He drawled. 

Once more, I laughed, this was unbelievable, “I’m unsure I had a choice per se. But if I had, it was surely made for me. It feels as if it was the only option, really…” I paused and looked at the table in front of us instead of Mikey. I knew I should have stopped talking, but there was something that kept me going. He had yet to stop me or berate me for messing up, which meant he did not mind the half-honesties I was giving him.

“It was either I joined you, changing in the process or I’d just…” Another pause, I smiled sadly, “I think without the support I had—have… I…” Finally, I looked back at Mikey and mimicked pressing a gun under my chin and pressing a trigger, my tongue stuck out as I faked blowing my brains out. I laughed lightly, “But that’s a big hypothetical.” A pregnant pause.

“Do you think I’d have the guts to do that?”  I asked Mikey. I suppose I was also pondering out loud to myself more than asking him. I didn’t believe I could ever do that. Mikey shook his head, “It requires more guts to keep on living, you know?” to which I shrugged one swift movement.

“And a lot more energy, it’s exhausting.”

He was impassive as he asked me what I meant by that. I was hesitant if I should speak my true mind or if I should stop this now. The conversation was leading to something deeper than I wanted him to know about, he would find me insane. He would probably react like Hanma did and tell me to tone it down. 

So why did I answer?

“Keeping up appearances, I guess? It kind of feels like I’m at war with myself–” I stopped. This sounded awful, this shouldn’t be said out loud. What was I portraying myself as? He would think I’m insane, that I’m weak, that I should get kicked out–

This is ridiculous.

You’re right, I’ll stop this right now.

“But I’m good!” I laughed, “I’m actually–”

Mikey cut me off with a straight face, a stern one, “Is dishonesty a trait you’ve honed over your stay in the organization or is it innate?” There was nothing in his eyes that could be a tell of any ounce of humor in his words, all it led me to believe was that I had fucked up hard. Did he want me to be honest? I was too caught off guard to manage anything sensible.

“What you are is unbalanced. And if you want to stabilize that frail state of mind, we need to find the irregularity—so tell me.” He tilted his head to the side and forced a kind smile on his face that was such a contrast to the void in his eyes, “How do you really feel?”

With wide eyes, my mind was still stuck on his description of my state of mind: unbalanced. He was not wrong, but finding the perfect word to describe it all was startling to say the least. Sure, I had a few theories on how to fix this frailness of my mind so why would I tell him more about myself? The pull that I felt towards him was all that was needed to make me speak up, ignoring any inner battle.

“I know what I’m turning into. I’m welcoming the change, but there’s this part of me that’s just—just stuck in the past. It’s… accepting the change of who I am as a person means letting go of…” Should I really say it? I was already so far in, anyway. My grave was dug deep enough that I couldn’t make the situation any more bad, truly. “I would mean–”

“Go ahead.” He cooed me.

What? Don’t want to admit it’s all because of a man?

My eyes flew straight ahead, I did not realize Mikey’s had done the same—to see what I was looking at or to simply look away, I did not know. “He fell for her. For the little girl he corrupted, but what if I’m nothing like that anymore? It ate me down to the fucking marrow.” I scoffed, “What if I’m tired of playing the role he wants me to play? But if I stop playing it, then—then he won’t like me anymore.” I laughed under my breath, not believing I was telling Mikey, the boss of the biggest criminal organization, that the core of my issues could be summarized as love problems.

Another huffed laugh, this time speaking faster than before. I wanted this to be over with, yet I couldn’t help but keep talking, “If he doesn’t love me anymore, then all I’ve done until now would have been for nothing. I would have exposed Shiho to all of this danger for nothing, Rai would have died for nothing.” Finally, I looked Mikey dead in the eyes once more, he seemed to have been looking at me for a while too now. I felt a weak smile form itself on my lips, “I can’t let it all go to waste, I was making a difference, right?”

Mikey laughed.

He laughed.

The air that left his mouth in light notes, that tone, he found it all funny and it was a genuine laugh too. It was odd to see life on his face.

“To have a man like Hanma put you in such a state of disarray. Life is truly full of surprises.” He commented, making me give him a deadly look as I asked if it was that funny.

Meeting my eyes right on, he nodded once, “Yes. It is. Because even after laying out all the pieces, you don’t see the solution that is right in front of you.”

Condescendence, arrogance. He spoke as if he knew better and I did not want to sense that coming from him. If it was that easy, then he should have simply told me instead of making me feel like shit. It pissed me off to no end. It reminded me of those people that would rather make fun of others who did not know something, rather than explaining and educating them even a little bit.

I clicked my tongue against my teeth, “And what is that solution? If it is that obvious…”

Mikey stood up and looked down at me, “Let go of your past.” He shrugged as a matter of fact, “The person you are turning into could become something with the right… ingredients.” Gently, his hand held onto my cheek. It felt somewhat soothing, so familiar. “But no bakers can work with rotten eggs.” He added, “So stop expecting anything of him. See,” His thumb caressed my cheek with such warmth, it felt strange coming from the man. “Should he not appreciate where your strength lies, the organization will.”

The darkness that pooled in his eyes felt like it was calling to me, like home, like exactly what I needed. Slowly, I nodded, his hand falling from my face and dropping at this side. It was truly odd how his actions seemed filled with emotions and his face void of any—delicately, he tapped his finger against my temple, “It’s bottled up in there, isn’t it? It’s a constant fight against that ever lasting ounce of goodness and hope you have for humanity.”

His hands clasped behind his back as he walked around the table and stopped there, facing me, “That alone makes me understand that, if hope wins the battle, I have no guarantee that you will remain with us.” My eyes widened at his words, I was unable to reply as he spoke once more, “You’re not a safe bet, you know that. So my question is the following,” He leaned over only slightly, “What do you get from staying in Bonten?”

Some dots connected in my brain and the words escaped my lips before I could even think them through or even theorize long enough, “Hold on—are you—do you think I’m the traitor?!”

Without a trace of a smile, he tilted his head slightly to the side, “It doesn’t matter. Tell me what you stand for—even better, who do you stand for.”

Giving him a worried look, I was starting to panic and looked around, “I’m here because–”

“For. You are here for…?”

I was taken aback by the interruption and cleared my throat, making it up as I went, “I’m here for—for Hanma? But also for Shiho, I need to keep her safe. I also want to be accepted in the organ–”

A loud offended huff escaped my lips when Mikey cut me off by saying, “It’s all futile. It’s nothing tangible, it’s all sentimental. Think bigger. Think for yourself, not for others.”

That was enough to make me think. What did I want? What am I even doing, really? Is it all for him and solely him? I want to stay in his world and see him but what about… about something bigger. I’m seeking the peace he brings me and somehow that peace was also found in the silence that followed that. The emptiness, the lack of anything, this numbness I felt after it.

After killing someone.

When she takes over, it’s so much easier because there is no need to fight back. It relieves the constant pressure I feel upon holding her back. When she takes control, it all disappears, just like when I fuck him, exactly when all I see is just him. Because when I’m with him, it feels like I’m somewhere else, far away from here. And when she’s here… I’m away, tucked in a comfortable bubble, far from all this hecticness.

So I understood.

I looked up at Mikey and smiled, “It just feels so good when all I have to do is listen. When I can let go and let her win for a moment—it’s a relief, and she’s what’s needed for the job.” My eyes drifted back to my hands that were resting palms up on my knees. With a half smile this time, I whispered, “It drowns the voices.” And it truly did, because when I ran whatever errands I was put to, all I had to do was do it well. I was focused on delivering on my word and not fucking up instead of focusing on regretting all that was being done. I had no time for second guesses when my brain was wired to be a lap dog for Bonten, maybe only fear of disappointing them—but at least I wouldn’t see her as much.

Mikey’s hand rested on my head sweetly as he patted it—maybe it should have felt patronizing, but there was so much in that touch that I felt some sort of connection to him.

“You are with us for your own good, that is much better of a reason. You’re not the only one who needs this, you should be proud you realized it soon enough.” He gave me a smile, only for a few seconds before returning to his usual expression, his hand falling from my head and the familiar warm feeling with it. He understood me.

His voice reached my ears again, “As for the voices…” He trailed off, my heart spiking up at the realization I had spoken it out loud, that my whisper meant nothing in a room bathed in deadly silence. “You’ll grow to live with it. The harder you try to get rid of them, the stronger they become.” There was more to it, so I waited for him to continue. He brought his hands behind his back, holding them still and out of sight, “If you ignore them, they become blurry,” His eyes locked on something behind me as his expression hardened, “they become faceless.” Then his eyes set on mine once more, some hints of sadness tainted the emptiness in them—it was somehow beautiful to see it on his face, but I did not pay it more attention. “It’s better that way.”

Nothing dripped from his voice. It was dull, dry, lacking even nostalgia from whatever had traveled through his mind, then his eyes adorned something close to mischievousness as he spoke, “Of course, this is our little secret.” Turning around, he walked to the window. I was unsure if I should follow but still stood up, following him with a short distance between us, “I see myself a lot in you, I know you understand what I am telling you.” I could not see his face, but his head was angled straight at the window, as if looking over the city or the little he could see of it from the second floor. “You must understand that your fall could sadden a few, it would be egotistical of you to die.” Then, his words—which seemed rough to hear and a bit cold, yet needed—changed drastically as he faced me like he had been caught in a moment of sadness, “It would also be a waste seeing the potential that would go down the drain,” he continued, “Should you better your relationship with those you work with, I’m sure your death would sadden even more people—at least if dying is what you plan on doing.” 

I had hardly ever heard him talk that much. When he walked past me, I felt a shiver run down my spine in fear he would push me or suddenly ask me to speak up, annoyed at my silence. He did no such thing and grabbed something from a desk nearby, “Anyone but Hanma really, which is why I brought you here. Partly.” A flat thud echoed as a file was dropped on the table. Mikey gestured at me, and tilted his head to the side, “You’re bored of your errands, I’m providing you with some entertainment.”

Opening the file, I started reading everything. The man had a normal job, a construction worker. Nuclear family, common transactions in his accounts—I looked up at Mikey just in time to see him drop another file on the one opened in my hands, “I was told you require an incentive to be more open about yourself,” to kill, was what he meant, “Hopefully this will suffice.”

This time, my eyes widened slightly as they traveled over the many pages attached to the file. This was a Shibata member. Fraud, offshore accounts linked to shell companies, bribery. His crime list was long but I did not care for big words, what followed was worse. A couple of news articles: a body found buried in cement, the police believe it could be the work of the mafia—which was stupid, since there was no mafia in this city; home-owner disturbed by a pungent smell in her apartment… finds a decaying corpse in her walls, and much more.

Looking away from the papers, I commented, “So he had to kill some people but was bad at getting rid of the bodies—do you want me to kill him?” I knew what I wanted as a response to this question. I wanted something clear, something that did not allow me to make a choice. Something that would, in a way, take away the responsibility from me.

Half a shrug.

That’s all I got from Mikey.

“What happens, happens. The goal is to get information out of him. If he doesn’t speak, he will turn into an example.”

It was a foolish way of thinking, so foolish that I let out a laugh upon hearing him, “I never quite understood why it was done like this. To betray his own organization is–” I paused, holding back the animosity that had no way of being there and scoffed, “Stupid to say the least.” Shaking my head, I tossed the files on the table and stood up, flattening the creases on my pants. Mikey nodded at me to go on, as if he was intrigued.

“What I’m saying is: if he speaks, he dies by our hands or we let him go—if we let him go, Shibata kills him for being a traitor!” I laughed in disbelief, “If he doesn’t speak, he gets killed by our hands.” This time I was fully facing Mikey, his arms were crossed over his chest as he watched me go on a rant he surely had no interest in, but I was already too deep in. I had to commit to it. “No outcome is any better than the other, he will not speak if it allows him to maintain his honor.”

He quirked a brow, “And you believe everyone has undying loyalty? People are flexible, so are their values. That is your role, to bend people—break them, if necessary.”

Out of one of the rooms came Sanzu. Something told me he had been standing there for longer than only a few seconds, he had been listening in, “Bonten didn’t get this far by being nice.” He then said my name, which had been done on so few occasions that it was much more off-putting than necessary. 

Now standing by Mikey’s side—who was already walking off to the window, leaving only Sanzu with me—he continued, “If we had let go of every louse that was fast enough to snitch we would look weak, do you get that?”

“What you’re saying is–”

“I’m saying they should be smart enough to not get caught. Then they wouldn’t have to be worried about dying in glue traps like the rats they all are.” He spat with so much disdain, one would almost feel pity for those who indeed died by Bonten’s hands. Something I used to feel as well until I understood the modus operandi that they used. But now, I could grasp how it all worked. Ultimately, we were only taking care of scums or those who hurt Bonten.

I held back a smile and sighed, looking Sanzu dead in the eyes with incredulity, “So getting caught is signing a death sentence?”

“One you avoided by being The Reaper’s bitch.” He gritted through his teeth.

The blood in my veins started boiling from the words he had spoken once more, but instead of giving in, I smiled mockingly and whined like a dog, head tilted to the side.

His eyes widened, “Oh, you’re in a fucking mood, huh? You’re insane—weirdo.”

Still staring him dead in the eyes, I let out a spelled out “Woof.”

He was even more distraught as he pushed me with much more strength than necessary, “Stop the bullshit.”

I gripped his hands tight and held onto him to not fall back, “Sorry! I thought you’d understand—you and me, we’re the same, aren’t we? Both of us being bitches of maniacs and all, right Mad Dog?” My nails were digging in his exposed forearms, his grip also tightened on my shirt before he gritted through his teeth, “You’re dead.”

“And you’re pissing me off.” I gritted back, trying to bring him closer out of frustration that was now slowly seeping out, “Might as well play the role you’ve been assigning me since the very beginning. Not that it made sense at first, but I might just get into it now.” I smiled mockingly, a tight smile of exhaustion. There was only so much disrespect I would take from these men when so little had been done that touched them personally. What had happened with Rai never truly affected them, nor did my relationship with Hanma. “You’re all just nosy, pissy boys that can’t see women thrive, that’s my hot take.” I finished, letting go of Sanzu with a loud sigh as he did the same upon meeting Mikey’s gaze.

The simple gesture of him reaching out and flattening the creases in my shirt was what threw me off first, before hearing him say, “You’re with Rindou on this one. Koko might join in if he’s not too busy.”

“What’s with the change of attitude, don’t tell me you’ll take a beating–”

Mikey said my name sternly, making me still any endeavor I could have undertaken; instead, my back straightened and I looked at Sanzu with confusion. He shook his head, half a smile adorning his lips, “Did you think you’d get out there on your own?”

The scoff he let out was so disdainful I felt my mouth open slightly enough for me to run my tongue over my teeth in an attempt to hold back any harsh words that could weigh on the balance of Mikey’s approval. “Trust is not that easy to get, you know.” The dog added.

They say to twist your tongue seven times in your mouth before speaking, but I was in a rush to defend myself so I bit back, “One would think that something close to two years in Bonten’s ranks would be enough to gain some amount of trust.” But I knew how it went, the song was so familiar that there was no surprise when he started…

“But you didn’t, do you know why? Because–”

“Because I’m worse than the plague only by proxy of being on friendly terms with The Reaper.” I stated in a bored tone, making Sanzu’s eyes widen only in shock at the attitude he was receiving. He got a hold of himself rather fast as he laughed, grabbing the files from the table and shoving them to my chest, “Friendly terms?” He quoted in disbelief, “The woman’s fucking death itself, the motherfucker that calls himself ‘the reckoning’—the most selfish piece of shit on Earth! I’ll give you one thing that fucker is, he’s equally a piece of shit to everyone, kudos on not discriminating!”

Suddenly I regretted speaking. It seemed I had struck a nerve, any gall I had to stand up to him was slowly seeping out as I stood there, my hands holding the files to my chest as he stepped back and howled a laugh, “Oh, to be there the day you realize what this man is—the day you realize he stops at nothing to get what he wants, even if that means fucking up everyone’s diligent work and lives.”

Cutting him off, I let my hands fall to my side and stepped closer to him, “What a perfect fit for Bonten, don’t you think? Tell me something you’d never stoop low enough to if it meant bringing much more power to Bonten—tell me you wouldn’t sacrifice some things for the sake of this organization!” I walked up chest to chest to the man and whispered, “To your master, Mikey.”

I suppose I had asked for it, in the end. Maybe I was prepared mentally enough for it that it didn’t hurt when his fist met my jaw hard enough to hear a slight cracking sound. I liked to believe it was his own knuckles, but who was I truly kidding? Between gritted teeth, he whispered, “You have no damn idea what you’re defending.” My eyes started tearing up but my resolve was no less, I replied, “It is so easy to play you that I manage to strike a chord each and every damn time. I know you.” I whispered, taking a large step back just as Mikey called out sternly, “Enough!”

Both of our heads turned to the smaller man by the window as he gestured at Sanzu for something the scarred man patted his pockets for. A few seconds passed as he handed me a paper with a number scribbled on it, “Call Rindou yourself, I’m not giving him the bad news.” Just like that, he walked away, fist clenching and opening and eyes filled with murder. It seemed a simple way to describe it but there were no other words, and yet, I knew his anger was not directed at me for some reason.

“If he hates me that much, send me to another errand with someone else.”

“You are going.” Mikey stated as he slowly turned around to face us, although ‘us’ had shifted to ‘me’ as Sanzu walked out of the room. “Or throw another tantrum, demonstrate you’re not cut out for this for the umpteenth time.” Mikey’s steps were quiet, reluctant, but steadily approaching me, making me fear what would happen next. I was taken aback already by his harsh words, but to have him come close to me again? I needed to keep my mouth shut no matter what, I couldn’t fuck up. I had gotten too comfortable, too open with him, it needed to die down.

“Do you understand that things will not always go your way? No matter how hard you try, someone will always fuck up every calculated thing you’ve ever done, every effort you’ve put in will go to waste in a blink of an eye—in one change of heart.” He took a deep breath and looked at me with some sort of gentleness in his gaze, “Do you know why?”

A silence.

I held his gaze for a moment, fearful if I should even breathe or utter a word. As seconds passed, I whispered a small, “No…”

His hand flew to my painful jaw as he gripped it tight and gritted through his teeth, “Because life isn’t fair.” With a hard push, he got my face away from his and stepped back, “Some people are selfish, and no amount of selflessness will ever balance it.” He sighed defeatedly before looking over his shoulder and at me. The blank stare had returned, taking up its rightful place on the man’s face. It was free from the hatred that had sparked in his eyes earlier, but there was an uncertainty on whether this expression on his face was better than the one prior. It was surely more familiar, but seeing him like this, I couldn’t help but wonder how suffocating it must be to shove all that he felt deep inside, far from anyone.

He gestured my way, “You will find your way out on your own, Rindou should already be on his way.” With that, he left the living room to join Sanzu. I only stood there for a few seconds before getting into the elevator and adding Rindou’s number into my phone. I was never keen on adding their full name in there, instead I put the two men dancing and a thumbs up, the good twin emoji—it made sense in my head. 

I quickly texted him, telling him I was assigned on an errand with him, and if he was not already at the location perhaps he could come to pick me up at Mikey’s place.

His reply was more or less what I expected.

👯‍♂️👍: whos this

To which I replied with my name, adding just in case it did not ring a bell, “Hanma’s girl.”

He was already typing. It stopped, returned and stopped again as he finally replied.

👯‍♂️👍: the slaughtered little lamb

👯‍♂️👍: ??

👯‍♂️👍: finally getting ur number after all this time

👯‍♂️👍: oh this is good

👯‍♂️👍: whats mikeys address tho

👯‍♂️👍: shit rans gonna be pissin himself when i tell him

👯‍♂️👍: r u sending the address or

All these messages had been sent consecutively without even a second for me to reply and he was already pressing me, how hurried was the man? As I was typing it in, the screen lit up with his contact. I was hesitant to pick up but did so within a short debate of three seconds.

“I was texting you the address.” was how I started. There were no formalities or anything, it was for work, why would I ask him if he was fine or how his day was going?

I heard him howl a laugh on the other end of the call, the microphone was odd and it made me understand he was driving and probably had put me on speaker or, even better, on his car’s microphone and speakers. A loud honking followed as he spat something at someone on the road, then his light voice returned, “It really is you! Ah shit, this is so funny, I needed to make sure and stuff in case one of these bastards were tryna prank me or somethin’.”

“That’d be a bit childish, I don’t think they would do that. You and your brother are probably the most immature–”

“Yeah, you don’t really know Takeomi, make one joke about whatever and he’ll take it personally and beat your ass—but who cares, the address come on, come on, come on.” This felt like a normal conversation, albeit with him rushing me over and over. I had to cut him off by telling him the address or he’d keep repeating ‘come on’ which was starting to get on my nerves. Of course, he kept saying it a few more times as I told him the place, so I had to repeat myself, then he was good and sighed, “Ah, that’s Mikey’s place, shoulda said that.”

Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I took a deep breath. I had told him, by text, but the idiot was too caught up in the weird elation of having my number that he did not pay attention. I chuckled, “Yeah, I didn’t know if you knew where to come, better safe than sorry, right?”

He hummed out loud then barked out a laugh, “Anger management classes sure do fucking wonders on someone as insane as you.”

“I don’t have anger issues. And I’m rationalizing that you’re just that stupid, so why would I get mad, you know?” I smirked proudly on my side of the phone, hearing an indignant huff from the younger brother on the other end of the call. Instead of retorting anything, he told me he’d be there in two minutes, which he estimated correctly.

Two minutes on the clock and a car stopped in the middle of the road, honking a few times for attention. He was blocking the entire street, but pulled down his window and got his head out with his elbow resting on the side, “Get in, your slow ass is blocking the road, come on.” 

Outraged, I couldn’t let out any proper sentences, I could only look like a fish as I opened and closed my mouth on my way to his car in a rush. When I tried opening the door, it was locked—Rindou rolled his eyes and unlocked it. This man amazed me with how much he could blame someone other than himself even for the smallest things. As I slid inside, he started the car immediately, the seatbelt too rigid for me to pull it as he sped up all too suddenly. Once we were on the highway and he settled on a certain speed, I could finally put on my seatbelt and as I did, Rindou let go of the wheel and used his knee to hold it still.

“Mikey’s file probably mentions one dude but there’s three—he doesn’t ever let go of his two minions, so that’s embarrassing as it is to be the henchman of a guy that works in construction, not gonna lie.” He pulled out his phone and texted someone rapidly, his eyes leaving the road and making my anxiety spike up. Nodding alongside his words, I hummed in agreement as he added, “It’s your first fun job, right?”

I gave him a small yup.

The silence didn’t even have time to settle before Rindou sighed loudly, “Why are you on crack during meetings and acting all quiet now?”

“Do you want a real answer or is this small talk?” I asked dryly.

“Do I look like I do small talk?” Rindou replied rhetorically, his gaze clearly telling me he found me more than idiotic right now.

Giving him a huffed laugh, I replied to him, “You look like you wanna get on my nerves and if I let you, I’ll bear the consequences of both of our actions. I’d rather stay quiet.”

“Yeah, but that’s boring, aren’t we like… supposed to open your chakra out there? Or whatever Mikey said, true self and whatnot. Fucker’s a cryptid.” He shrugged, taking a sudden turn when he almost missed the exit he was supposed to take.

There was a sincere huffed laugh that escaped my nose amidst the gasp when my hand gripped the handle above the window for stability. It was starting to get warm in the car from the sun outside so I pointed at the dashboard, “Could you please turn on the air conditioning?”

“Do it yourself, what are you, twelve?” He retorted, grabbing his sunglasses from the nook above his head, putting them on with quite some style. “I’m being polite. I’ll do it, but fuck’s sake you’re a dick.” I retorted, to which he laughed loudly and opened his window, yawning dramatically at my words. Bringing his hand to his mouth for effect, he then turned to me, his index raised, “Bitch,” he raised his middle finger too, “and moan. That’s all you do, and it’s not even fun.”

The back of his head hit the seat, “We still got like fifteen minutes to go, so make it fun! Here–” He grabbed his phone and lifted it to his face, unlocking it, before handing it to me, “Get Ran’s number, send him a text and fuck with him.”

I locked his phone and tossed it in the nook of the dashboard, “What am I, an iPad kid?” I asked in disbelief.

“Ugh, you’re so on the defensive. I’m not the one who tried to fuck you in an elevator—hell, I’m not the one who drugged someone and fucked someone else in front of that first someone!” He exclaimed in annoyance.

“Oh no, you’re just an innocent bystander, right?” I asked with fake pleading eyes, earning myself a shake of the head from the man next to me.

“You’re so bitter my mouth feels watery. You know what they say—when life gives you lemons, let the lemon go kill a man to set her free like a bird!”

There was a short silence, then I turned my head slowly toward him, “Lemons are sour, first of all. And if he speaks, I won’t have to kill him. I don’t enjoy killing–” Lie. And she had to remind me of that when I saw her in the rearview mirror, blood pouring from her eyes, her mouth, the middle of her forehead—which made no sense, she was killed by a bullet to the chest. I was not heartless enough to shoot her in the head. It was my imagination once more. I had to ignore it, like Mikey said; the more I paid attention to it, the more she would come back.

“Yeah, that’s why Mikey brought you in, huh? To ‘not enjoy’ it all, no, yeah you’re right.” Rindou commented, shutting his mouth for a moment. But that moment only lasted as little as it took him to draw in a deep breath. He added, “Usually teamwork here has some sense to it, you know? Gotta have the perfect combo of brains, brawns, creativity—craziness, if you will.”

I smiled mockingly, “And you’re clearly not the brain, so what are you?”

“Koko’s the brain today, I’m the brawn and you,” He flicked my forehead enough to make me wince, “You’re gonna be our little Picasso! Basically, Mikey got some fun stuff out in the warehouse where Koko’s waiting, yeah?”

I nodded, a bit apprehensive about where this was going but let him continue, finding it still rather enjoyable to have him not be too annoying right now. Maybe I could stop biting back too and just relax slightly. Ran wasn’t here, it could be alright. 

With one hand on the wheel and the other towards me, he started drawing shapes in the air as he spoke, “So there’s a little tray on wheels and tons of tools to scare the guy, but if he doesn’t speak, you’ll use it. First I’m gonna beat him up, and if he doesn’t spit it out, it’s your turn!” It all sounded rough and genuinely fucked up, so why was I feeling somewhat excited? My heart was beating faster, was it from fear of messing up or in excitement of proving myself? Was it that I could finally let everything out if that man didn’t speak?

I let out a short laugh and pushed Rindou’s arm away, “I’ll do it right off the bat if you don’t want to break your nails, you know.” I joked, focusing on the road ahead to ignore that still-sitting ghost of hers in the backseat. Her presence was making me uneasy, but I was trying my best to avoid her gaze in the mirror, mouth moving this time but there was no sound. Rindou looked into the rearview mirror and huffed almost in disappointment at seeing nothing, but looked back at the road, “Ran goes to the manicures, not me. Last week, his usual girl asked if he wanted to get gel nails or something—shit, he got pissed and stormed outta there, it was so funny.”

“He looks like he has an over the top skincare routine.” I commented off-handedly, making Rindou burst out laughing, a laugh that turned into wheezing for a few seconds before he finally calmed down and leaned over the wheel with another loud sigh, “He does though, every step possible, rose water, masks, everything.”

“You look like an all-in-one kinda guy with the little you know about that shit.” I commented playfully, making him huff a short laugh as he pulled to the side of the road suddenly and stopped his car, looking at a few cars passing by. His eyes were focused, serious, something I so rarely saw on any of the Haitanis. I knew not to interrupt upon reading the mood.

Once his eyes parted from the road, he started the car once more and drove back in his lane.

Lowering the volume of the radio, I called out his name and earned his attention, “What was that?”

“Didn’t you notice they’ve been tailing us?” He asked in half-disbelief, half-annoyance that was more aimed at the people that had been following us. I shook my head and immediately started looking around to see what else I had been missing. I felt like an idiot to have let my spite for the Haitanis win over my awareness, or paranoia as Hanma called it. Glancing at Rindou, I noticed that something was going on in his head, he was not really there, he was thinking, gears turning while staring right ahead.

As if on cue, he spoke again, “We’ll take a different route, I ain’t leading those fuckers to our warehouse.” Resting his head against the seat, he grinned and threw me a smirk, “Buckle up, I’m gonna make sure none of them are following us.” 

With wide eyes, I stared in confusion ready to ask what he meant, then my hand flew to my seatbelt when he increased the speed and started driving like a madman, getting honked at each car he zigzagged between. “Shit, this is so fun!”

“You have a fucking death wish.” I spat at him, closing my eyes only for a moment until I opened them and started to bathe in the adrenaline I was feeling. Laughing like a maniac—or was it like a crazy kid?—Rindou replied, “You don’t trust my skills? We’re not gonna crash, don't worry.”

Giving him a stony look, I hissed, “I’m going to kill you.” The emphasis explained my former words, he barked a laugh and only sped up even more, “Okay woman, keep that energy for later, yeah?”

Him not taking me seriously had me feeling mixed emotions. Was I pissed off because he did not think I was capable of it, or was I relieved for the same reason? Or perhaps did it make me feel sort of normal in the moment to have him be this casual about a threat that even I didn't know if I meant as a joke or not? Taking his phone again, Rindou unlocked it just like before and handed it to me, “Text Koko we’ll be there in 15, fucker’s gonna be mad we’re not there on time but it doesn’t matter.”

“You know I have his number, I can do it from mine.”

He fully faced me for a second, his mouth gaped, “Heyo, you have his—and he has yours?! Ah!” He scoffed, “Been tryna get your number through him for ages and he’s been telling us he doesn’t have it. Oh, that—oh, that twink’s in trouble.” He huffed in shock and offense, I believed. Smiling, I thanked Koko for not folding. I didn’t know what the Haitanis would have done if they had gotten my number during my paranoia. I would have made more mistakes than I thought possible, I would have probably looked insane too.

“That’s rough, huh?” I said proudly, texting Koko who replied in seconds with a simple ‘ok’.

The adrenaline of earlier was slowly dissipating and by the time we arrived at the warehouse, a place that smelled of salty sea water and fish, Rindou made sure to comb his hair quickly before getting out. Upon leaving the car, the rising temperature hit more without the air conditioning and I pulled a bit at the collar of my shirt. 

Seemingly, Rindou shared my vision and took off his jacket to drop it on his seat, leaving him in a black polo t-shirt. Because wearing a simple shirt was not enough. I was sure it was expensive, and he did look the part too. The shirt tucked inside his gray suit pants, just as fancy as his shoes and watch were. This man was not dressed to kill, he was dressed to get laid.

“Gawking much?” He raised a brow, pushing down his sunglasses slightly on his nose to give me an arrogant smile.

I shook my head and walked ahead of him, “If you’re going to dress this pricey, you should look into a cute little trenchcoat like that man has in American Psycho. That way your shit won’t get ruined.”

He laughed and brought his glasses back in place, “Hell if I care, I’m not gonna look lame if I have to represent, woman.” He said the word in a comical manner. Giving him a tight smile over my shoulder, I held back from commenting further and entered the shabby building. I noticed how everything seemed to have stopped dead in its tracks, cranes carrying huge containers, boats by the harbor still filled with fish and other catch, and lunch boxes left on some barrels.

Had Bonten asked them to leave for a certain amount of time? Was that their agreement? I did not see anyone around here, it would make sense why Koko was keen on being there on time. I wondered…

“Come on! Get in! Are you nervous or something?” Rindou nudged me from behind and forced me inside the building where three men were tied on chairs with Koko sitting on some dirty barrel, his phone in hand. The men were exhausted, they were barely moaning or pleading for their lives—how long had they been there?

Koko looked up from his phone, his hair falling over his beautiful white outfit. Both his shirt and pants were white, or more so an egg white shade. He wore some sandals and was speckless. 

My eyes flew from Koko to Rindou as I uttered under my breath, “I’m guessing I’m the one who’s going to get dirty?” A nervous laugh escaped my lips. It was a relief when Koko chuckled as he shoved his phone into his back pocket and walked up to us, “Looking at you, I don’t believe it’s going to be a huge loss if this gets messy.”

With a silent gasp, I closed my mouth and held back a smile at the comment he had thrown at me, “You are in a good mood, that’s nice.” I added, shaking my head in disbelief, only now noticing Rindou had gone up to the men on display. He punched one and pressed his knee against the groin of the man in the middle, “What’s your rank? I’m not gonna waste time on cockroaches.” The man under him hissed and spat the blood that had pooled up in his mouth, his gaze meeting Rindou’s without fear. Not a word escaped.

Rindou smiled. “Aight crazy, they’re all yours.” He got off the man and turned around, cracking his knuckles. The man called the younger brother a wuss under his breath and, in less than a second, he received a knee up his chin, a clean crack easily audible, “Watch your tongue, I’m being a gentleman here, yeah? Let the lady show her skills.” Rindou said in a pissed off tone mixed with mockery.

With that, he got out of the way and pushed the tray he had mentioned earlier. I felt my interest piqued as I made my way to it and gave it a good look.  A handsaw, screwdrivers, all different sizes and shapes, knives, a whip even—a scalpel. There were even forceps, and that drill dentists used; there were many more items and I felt a shiver run down my spine at the mere sight. Slowly, I grabbed the gloves and put them on. It felt weirdly comforting, a familiarity settling in my brain as I pushed my hands into the fabric, following movements I was unaware why I knew so deeply. I watched my reflection in the scalpel blade and smiled at it, it felt nice to be useful.

“Put this on at least, I’m not a dick.” Koko said, tossing me a black latex apron that I caught without much thought into it—about to wrap it behind my back, I felt Rindou’s hands grabbing each end of the ties as he pulled at it like a corset and tied it tightly before leaning over my shoulder, “Latex looks good on you.”

I elbowed him in the face and clicked my tongue before walking up to the three men, Koko laughing to himself on the side while Rindou grunted and muttered under his breath.

Clearing my throat, I crouched in front of the man in the middle and smiled, “I don’t think your rank’s gonna be that useful. Your info is important to us, so just tell us what you know and you’ll walk out.” I patted his knee.

He hissed in disgust, “No thank you.”

I nodded and stood up with the same sweet smile, my entire body burst aflame as I finally stabbed his cheek with the scalpel I had been holding. I did not pull it out as I leaned over him, “If I say please?”

His eyes widened. When he tried to speak, blood poured from his mouth but he still grinned, “Cute act, but no one cares about you. I know who you are, you’re The Reaper’s bitch.” Before he could even think of anything else to add, I drew the scalpel down to his mouth, splitting his cheek open wide. 

A howl of pain tore from his throat, guttural, deep. I placed a hand on my chest, “I felt that.” Looking down at my hand, it was slightly shaking but I needed more of this thrill. He needed to disrespect me more, to show me how rotten he was and how little he deserved to live. I was needed for this. They wanted me for this, it felt so unbelievably good to have them watch me give them exactly what I have been called here to do.

I pressed my forehead against his; he tried hard to pull back, but I gripped his hair tight and held him there, blood from his attempt at spitting insults at me tainting my apron. So I closed my eyes, “Shh, shh, it’s not very feminist of you to define me through a man, you know?”

“The fuck do I care?” He uttered with a wild tongue that spilled its edges out of his mouth through the large gap on the side of his face as he spoke. I clicked my tongue in response and let go of him brusquely, making sure to rip a chunk of hair in the process that I tossed on the man on the right. “Well, I care! And you should do everything to please me since I’m the one in control right now.”

“Kill me. I won’t say shit.” He spat, quite literally as there was more blood spilling from his mouth than even a small hint of a threat in his words.

Quirking a brow at first, I then frowned and shook my head, “Well I care, killing you would be–”

The man ignored me completely and looked over at Rindou and smiled at him—one would claim some homoeroticism from that, but I knew he was being blatantly disrespectful—then in the most annoying tone he called out, “Why don’t you try getting shit outta me? She sucks.”

I saw red. Not quite literally, but I knew the embarrassment I felt had fueled the rage at my very core which, luckily, was allowed to spill over today. I was allowed to let it all out and not hold back, just for this, to show I was good at this. 

Feminine rage could fuel anyone enough to do the most atrocious acts.

My hand that still held the scalpel tightened around the handle as I gripped it with my full fist before shoving it upwards through his nose cartilage. A soft crunching noise followed before the guy started breathing weirdly. Before he could speak, I leaned over ever so slightly and asked, “If I pull it out, d’you think there will be some snot on it? The people wonder.” I scoffed, letting go of the surgical tool but it was so well-balanced inside the man’s nose it did not fall. I found it rather funny and huffed a laugh under my breath before turning around and taking a good look at the tray.

I knew what I needed, it was going to be rather annoying for him, of course, but they would love it. It was not too painful, he would live, right? All he needed was to speak up and stop being a rude piece of shit and it will all be over–

That’s a bit fucked up, even for you.

I heard her.

Why was she here? My eyes widened, I looked around quickly trying to see where she was—but Mikey said not to pay her any attention—she shouldn’t be here though. Not when I was trying to let it all out, to let her out instead of staying as myself, as this stupid idiot that’s paralyzed over noth–

The wheel of the tray hit my shoe and brought me back to reality as my eyes met Rindou’s. He raised a brow in confusion and perhaps with some tinge of judgment, “Need glasses, crazy?” He gestured at the tray.

Chuckling, I crouched by the tray and ignored whatever sensation I had of being watched by anyone but those very real and tangible people around me. I rummaged through some things, making sure not to cut myself and finally placed my hand on exactly what I needed. Immediately, I stood up with my hands behind my back and grinned at the man with the scalpel through his nose.

With a roll of my eyes, I plugged it out of there and tossed it on the ground, “You look embarrassing.” I commented as I started swinging in place from my toes to my heel a few times, not once breaking the silent staring contest, fully aware I looked childish but the self-consciousness I was supposed to feel had yet to make its way to my brain.

The man sluggishly said, “Are you a dumb-ass?”

With wide eyes and a slight pout, I stopped my movement and leaned towards him, “Take it back, I was going to be super nice.”

He scoffed, “Shoot me, I’m fucking bored.”

I nodded in understanding, “Let’s make it fun then!” With a dramatic effect, I brought my hands back in front of me and showed off my little treasure, a tiny ‘ta-da’ slipping from my lips. The man’s gaze oscillated from my hands to my eyes; as he stared, I started working on it.

It was harder to focus in this state, but once I managed to thread the needle, I grinned, “I’ll fix you up, cause I’m nice like that. I’ll admit, I went a bit hard on you.” With that, I needed to get his attention fully on me so I grabbed the back of his head, his hair neatly held between my fingers as my hand laid flat on the top of his head. “It might sting.” I warned him—I was no nurse, and flesh was rather different than any fabric I had ever sewn.

Maybe I shoved it a bit too far.

Maybe the needle threaded through his cheek and his tongue, but I could not be to blame.

He howled in pain.

I suppose it hurt, but his screams had been incessant. I managed to ignore it.

Lower cheek, tongue, upper cheek, repeat. Four times and it was… “Like new!”

Just as the words escaped my mouth, the man pushed himself and made the chair fall, his back hitting the floor—not one thanks left his mouth. Only attempts at insults, but he could hardly speak.

Now he was trying to crawl back, slowly putting some distance between us. I tilted my head to the side and for a second, time seemed to have stopped. My body moved on instinct solely, muscle memory ingrained into my fibers guiding my movements towards the vision I was seeing. What needed to happen.

I blinked, and here I was, the scene so familiar it hurt my brain to ponder it any further, holding a sledgehammer with both my hands behind my back before I lifted it and slammed it on his knees.

I was met with horrid screams of pain and fear, added to them was the crushing sound of his bones snapping under the pressure—although those were not the only things that snapped. He had been stupid enough to let his weakness win, to yell at the top of his lungs, ripping the stitches I had spent such careful time on putting together. He still hadn’t stopped wailing, he was just scurrying away like a worm on the ground. The sight was pitiful, I groaned and said, “You keep yapping and yapping, and fucking yapping!” I exclaimed.

Fear and disbelief were almost all that filled his gaze, but something was much stronger as he stared at me straight in the eyes, just one wordless sentence: let me leave.

It was not happening, not in these conditions. So I did as my work required. I grabbed his ankles and pulled him towards me; he was fast to kick my arm in a last resort defense as he screamed in utter pain. I let out a dry laugh before dropping his ankles, massaging my hands in the process.

“Oh, you can still use them?” I asked, gesturing to my own throat, or rather the vocal cords. “Gotta fix that, right?” Pursing my lips mockingly, I went to grab the sledgehammer once more but heard Koko call out my name sternly. He received a glare as my sole response.

He sighed, “Focus. Kill the guy or let him rot but we don’t have all day.”

I huffed a laugh, “Brains, brawns, and crazy. More like, killjoy,” I pointed at Koko, then Rindou, “Bit funny,” then myself, “And real fun.” As I shut my mouth, I dropped the sledgehammer with a roll of my eyes. The handle of it fell on the man, which earned me a heartfelt insult from him, but also exhausted expletives from Koko. Raising both my hands in defense, I chuckled, “Hey, I dropped it. No more sledgehammer.”

As quickly as I said so, I dropped to my knees, half-straddling the man’s chest once I took back a hold of the scalpel. Immediately, I cut off his tongue and stood up, “Done! Nothing else, promised!” And I was a woman of my words, I still had principles. I also did not wish to see any more of him, so I grabbed a tarp to throw on him, “So you play dead and I’ll let you live, pinky promise.” I said, hooking my finger with his before I covered him up.

Everything felt so hazy in such a good way. It was a high I had never felt, ever. Was this all from the thrill of it? It sounded so simple, but that’s all I could blame it—beating a man up and hoping he would speak. Or was I hoping he would speak? The less he was cooperative, the higher the chance of me being able to let all my frustration out.

With a heavy sigh, I turned around and stood once more in front of the two remaining tied men. As I raised my hands before talking, I noticed some stains on my shirt and rolled my eyes, “Messy mess, yikes.” I rolled up my sleeves to make sure I did not see the blood then started, “So! Who’s gonna talk?” I asked. It was a simple question that required a simple answer, and yet they all stayed quiet, except for the one that really needed to keep his mouth shut.

The man under the tarp tried to yell out something. Not only was it awkward to hear, but it was a breach of our promise—he had made a sound. I turned towards Rindou and said, “Kill him. If he can’t play dead, he’ll be dead.”

Rindou quirked a brow.

“Please?” I added sweetly.

While pulling out his gun, he nodded and commented, “See, education is the key for great relationships.” Bang. He did not need to look much to aim for the man’s head without even seeing him under the tarp, “Being kind, you know it’s rare and I’m full of that kindness.”

“Thank you Rin…” I said, only to feel odd by using the nickname and adding, “–dou… Rindou, okay that was weird. Sorry.”

Maybe I was getting ahead of myself. Maybe I shouldn’t have been feeling so comfortable, I was barely starting to get along with the guy.

But you find him fun. You find a killer fun. Cold-blooded. He doesn’t care. Is that funny?

I shook my head and looked back at the two men in front of me, “I keep my promises, but if he doesn’t do his part…” I gestured slitting my throat, “You know?” I gave them half a smile, “So, who has the answer?”

The man on the left made a sound.

With a short nod his way, I asked, “Leftie, yes?”

“Will I live if I speak?” He asked, barely above a whisper.

“Well, someone has got to live to tell the tale, right? So, the one who gives me the most important info gets to walk out alive—now, I can’t promise unscathed ‘cause you might need a nudge at some point.” It made sense, but I didn’t think it would be efficient enough that one of them would rush to speak to me the moment those words left my mouth.

The one on the left was the first one to give us something, “We… we know you’re the ones behind the gala Friday evening.”

Rightie added to it, “It’s a trap so no one’s coming!”

The awkward silence that followed almost brought me to tears with laughter but instead I gave them a long stare. Koko stayed quiet too but texted someone while Rindou met my eyes as if to tell me they were much more stupid than we expected.

I hummed, “Well, you’re either dull or you’re not being told shit, guys. Sorry to break it to you. Let’s think, yeah? Why would it be a trap?” I asked, gesturing for them to go on and give me some genuine replies.

Leftie replied first, “Many people—there’s too many people going, any of them could be there to kill our–”

Interrupting him, I raised a brow, “Your people? Like you’ve been killing ours? Come on, we’re at least civil enough not to kill when there are civilians around. Call it having some decency.” The last word was said in a higher tone, it was probably not a word they were familiar with either, considering how low they were ready to hit. “See, involving innocent people would be almost as low as… ah, yes! Lacing drugs to try to kill surely only bad, bad people, but guess what! That actually ends up killing those that didn’t ask for shit, who would’ve thought!” I saw Koko gesture from the corner of my eye to wrap it up, or get some shit out of them so I pressed some more.

With that they started dropping the most useless information ever; taking turns, they would speak one after the other. The sole useful information was the name of some of our dealers that were compromised, which would help for the rat extermination I suppose, but nothing more. Rin and Koko were getting impatient, more so the latter than the former. I needed to get something good out of them, anything.

“Enough, enough. You know jack shit, so we’ll make a deal, yeah?” I said, smiling sweetly.

That seemed to intrigue every man in the warehouse. I was treading murky waters, but I could make something good out of this.

“Here are three things I’ll need you all to provide me with, yeah?” They nodded, I patted their cheeks condescendingly and grinned, “One, the address for where the next deal is happening–”

Rightie cut me off, “How would we know?”

I tutted him, “That’s your problem, isn’t it? I need it, so get it for me. It’s simple.” I looked back at the tray and grabbed wire cutters, then snapped one of his fingers off, “That’s for interrupting me, by the way. God, stop screaming, it’s just a finger!” I said, covering my ears for a moment until he shut his mouth.

With a sigh, I continued, “Dos! Gotta be kind and give us your next meet-up address too, unless Shibata is dumb enough to have only one set address. Hm, could be. Doesn’t matter, I need it.” They looked at each other but kept it at exchanging gazes and not words. They knew it wouldn’t have gone their way, had they started talking. How tame.

“And last, but not least,” I grabbed both their jaws and turned them towards me to make sure they were listening, “Make sure your people are coming to the gala. I’d say this one is the most important, but our deal includes all those three simple tasks I’m giving you, yeah?” They nodded while I asked over my shoulder for Rindou to untie them. It felt so nice to be on talking terms, not just uselessly mean comments that had no way of leading anywhere if we had to keep teaming together on the long run.

Glancing at Koko, I was still a bit hesitant and wanted to make sure I was not speaking bullshit, “We’ll keep an eye on you, of course,” Koko nodded, so I continued, “We won’t interact, but you have 3 days! You’re not leaving our sight until it’s done, and if by the end of those beautiful 72 hours you don’t have what we need… well…” I gestured with my chin at the man behind them, “Deal?”

Rindou freed Leftie first, and as he cut Rightie’s ties, the asshole jumped me—I barely had time to react as blood splattered all over my face. That’s when I processed the loud noise that had occurred. That’s when I realized Rindou had shot him before he could properly lay a hand on me, his body falling forward on me when the younger brother grabbed him by the collar and tossed him back.

I slowly turned to Leftie and gave him a smile, “Good boy. See what you avoided?” Something felt off in my tone. I knew it. But I couldn’t help it. It was not something new—hell, another guy had been shot right before, so why was I suddenly fully numb? Why was my mind thousands of miles away at this very moment?

“Get out now, two of our guys are waiting to get you home.” Koko almost dragged the guy out of there and once he was gone, a silence fell. Slowly, I focused back on the here and now, the impossible heat of the weather, the blood slowly dripping down my face along with sweat, the way my hands were shaking and how weak my legs were.

Rindou started clapping before sighing loudly, “That was insane!”

Facing him, I chuckled, albeit nervously, “Insane ‘yay’ or insane ‘nay’?”

He pursed his lips in doubt, “I mean, you’re efficient for sure! Give it time and you’ll make a name for yourself, you know?”

“As fun as this was, you,” Koko pointed at me, “made a fucking mess, and it was painful to watch. You were something else out there. Something that needs to be looked over.” He paused, as if assessing what was up with me then scoffed. “But glad you’re back to your normal self, for now.”

He looked back at Rindou, “And you? You enjoyed the show, seeing how little you did to stop any of it.”

“Hey, can’t blame me, it was so much fun to watch, don’t you think Koko?”

The latter shook his head and started walking out, “Whatever it was, I’m done. You both get home safe. I have a lot of shit to do, a gala to prepare–”

“Little date with your blondie?” Rindou called out.

All Koko replied with was a middle finger over his shoulder, leaving me with Rindou.

The brother shoved my side, “Aight, you look like shit, so I’ll be nice.” He sighed dramatically, throwing his arm over my shoulder casually and in no flirtatious way, which was rare. “Let’s get some drinks, you look like ass. But don’t stain my seats though, I think I have some wipes for Ran’s hands or whatever in my car.”

I looked at him in confusion and had to ask, “We… are getting drinks? You and I?”

“I mean yeah, we just finished a job. Gotta relax, crazy. D’ya ever do that?”

“I’ll text Hanma that I won’t be home right away then…” I trailed off, still confused.

Rindou called my name again, I looked his way and he took a picture, “I’m updating him, don’t worry.”

Just as he sent the picture, I sent my text.

As we got to the car, I wondered in the back of my head. Will Hanma get jealous?

[Part 6]

#ao3 #writing #fanfiction #writer #physicalturian #archiveofourown #tokyo revengers #writings #deranged love #tokyorev #hanma x reader #hanma #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji #hanma shuji x y/n #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #salvaged love

[popsicle-stick]

funniest thing is when it turns out someone actually has exactly the same takes on a fictional character as me but they finish like 'so yeah that's why i detest this guy' and it's like. ah. i see. i am a fundamentally different person however

#hate and love is much the same if you are deranged enough i suppose! #i need horrid little guys else i combust

[0rb1s]

I love the ASL dynamic of

Portgas D Ace, a son of two people with the will of D/the Pirate King

Monkey D Luffy, Grandons of Marine hero Garp the Fist and Son of the most Wanted Man Alive, Dragon the Revolutionary

And Sabo, a nepobaby, poor by choice and keeping up with the other two by just being a Freak

#i love fanon sabo just being a deranged freak and a weirdo #noahs yapping #one piece #asl #asl brothers #one piece asl #portgas d ace #monkey d luffy #revolutionary sabo #flame emperor sabo #sabo one piece

[s3rrrpentine]

playing twister (◦△☆)~~!!!

thank you to the dearest @tapioca-milktea1978 for commissioning me! (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞⋆**♡ so happy that she allowed me to draw soap being a little unhinged lmaooo

☆ also, here's a little something for shits and giggles hehe

#s3rrrcommission #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #soap x ghost #ghost x soap #cod fanart #i love my little deranged soap

[bruciemilf]

How do think everyone in the batfamily would react to meeting Thomas and Martha?

Tim: [Conspiracy theorist noises, no one knows if they’re good or bad]

Jason: great, more rich people. Not like we have enough of those. [Loves Martha and wants to know if Catherine is okay, if there’s even a possibility of knowing.]

Dick: sorry I knocked off your ashes while doing gymnastics, grandpa. I think you were in the vacuum cleaner for a while :/

Thomas: meh, it happens :D as long as you’re having fun!

Duke: ok so wait. You’re telling me Gotham used to be WORSE?

Damian: [Keeps getting his cheeks pinched] Can you purchase the government and make animal abuse punishable by hanging?

Thomas: I’m sure we can make that happen! Anything for my little man!

Bruce: Father :|

Thomas: What, I miss the death penalty. Now those were the days.

Bruce: Mother!

Martha: Don’t look at me. I made Luigi Maroni drink a bleach cocktail for kicking a cat.

Damian: …You’ve earned my admiration, Grandmother.

#I like them they’re so fun and I think Thomas should be a deranged little freak #dc #dc comics #bruce wayne #dick grasyon #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #martha wayne #they also make Alfred blush a LOT and I’m gonna post a photo album edit full of Wayne memories #I LOVE THEMMM #batfamily #text post #batman #thomas wayne #incorrect quotes #incorrect batfamily quotes

[poltoreveur]

I could fix him but I kinda like him a little murderous and psychotic tho

#he would kill me too #but i don’t mind #love my sexy psychotic men #i don’t care about fixing him lol #can you tell i’m also insane? #i like my men broken #and deranged #and psychotic #with a dash of mommy issues #coriolanus snow x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #void stiles x reader #tom riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #ethan landry x reader #billy hargrove x reader #luke castellan x reader #aaron warner #cardan greenbriar #jonathan crane #patrick bateman #this is so unhealthy of me #also very unhinged #but also so real #this is the last time i’m going to talk about being a fixer upper i promise

[tubbytarchia]

I don't know what this is all I know is that LimL Joel makes me really emotional

#I know he has a tendency to go deranged on his red lives but idk something about him beginning to lose it after Jimmy died and killing Grian #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans fanart #trafficblr #Again its his red life shenanigans but... If only Jimmy had known how affected someone was by his death. I'm choosing to believe this #and him then going out like a sad pathetic wet cat even with Grian's sacrifice... He really deserves a win one of these days lmao please #Also I cant stop thinking about how Jimmy wouldn't have left him. Grian was sensible to and most players probs would have #Joel really does become a lost cause so its fair and Grian did still care (and went to say goodbye as well as sacrifice his time for him) #But Jimmy would have stuck by even if Joel were in this state (and they'd both get themselves killed pathetically but) #And Joel having shown such genuine care for Jimmy and concern over his limited time... man anything w Jimmy makes me so emotional lol #I love them so #oh Ig about the art itself. I dont like it but hey thats how it tends to go when you try smth new. And no shame in trying #but if one person likes this then yayy I will still feel accomplished and happy #Im looking at this again and hey its not that bad actually yay I love to approve of my own art. self love hell yea #tubby art

[sirspeep]

#love me a man who asks for permission before committing murder most foul #all the dialogue options were excellent (and by that i mean deranged) #normal bonding activity -> i let you kill a guy thats hunting you & we make fun of him #bg3 #astarion #(the tags in the second pic were added to the original post as images by keldabe-kriff and deskgirl respectively btw) #siv speaks

[2009phan]

okay you know what my roman empire is?

the fact that teen dan howell became a fan of/fell in love with phil when he was posting the most deranged unhinged videos on the internet. like this was pre mainstream youtube. this was before "hello guys smash that like button" youtube. teen dan howell saw this

and was like "i need to wait until i turn 18 to message this guy and stalk him". like broooo

the way people say it is like "yeah, phil was a youtuber and dan was a fan" and it makes you think that phil was like a modern day sponsor-friendly youtuber with an instagram following and a brand. but that is so detached from the truth. like youtube itself was an obscure website and like dan saw this unhinged weirdo's videos and fell in love with him. like.. ahhhhhh i am not okay

#and the fact that people are shocked that they're into catboys or whatever #like know your roots okay #they've always been deranged #especially dan okay #bc phil is the way he is neurodivergent king okay we stan #but dan fell in love with that shit #ofc he's a catboy freak of fucking course #anyway yeah #roman empire #dan and phil #dnp #phan

[frmulcahy]

When discussing how unhinged the Doctor is, I don’t think this moment is brought up nearly enough

#it’s also how I feel doing homework #this scene will always be hilarious #eight was just absolutely deranged #HE ATE A RAT IN ONE OF THE AUDIO DRAMA EPISODES #he deserves more love from the fandom smh #doctor who #eighth doctor #8th doctor #paul mcgann

[physicalturian]

[18+] Salvaged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 4

[The plot of this work follows previous works in this series] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [Varied POV/chapter]

Words : 11 013

Playlist : link

Archiveofourown

Warnings : Reader-Insert // Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con // Canon-Typical Violence // Graphic Description // Graphic Description of Corpses // Dubious Ethics // Explicit Language // Blood and Injury // Necrophilia jokes // Slight mention of ED (not reader)

There was something uncanny in having two people looking for a new place, to perhaps even build a new life, while in a different part of the city something much more tragic was happening.

It was nothing remotely close to dramatic to those who were used to it, to people that had been desensitized to the show that was happening right now. To people like Mikey. He could watch the scene displayed in front of him for hours without a hint of regret, so people thought. What regrets could a man with a blank expression portray? His eyes bore intensely into every action, following each hit, each breath, each step—he was taking it all in, unflinching. Part of his brain would sometimes attempt to resurface, that part of him that was more caring, but he was fast to turn it off.  Having him vulnerable to any sort of thing would mean the end of it all.

Many would label their actions as distasteful, gruesome, illegal, and immoral. Even more would be happy should they stop. But what would happen then? Once all the wrongs of the world were not contained anymore? Once all that money that was being fed to the big cats—that was helping the economy flow as it should, that was helping desperate people get any sort of income to provide for their family because the society they were born in could not care enough to let them earn enough to live—was no more?

What would happen then? 

Then it would all come crashing down.

Earning money legally was a privilege that many seemed to bask in, along with their naivety, but so many more had to work with the risk of losing it all. Their money, their life, their freedom.

In some way, Mikey found it much more honorable.

And it all rested on his shoulders. 

Should he take the fall, everything would go amiss, with people fighting for their businesses, their territory, for power. He would not—no, he could not allow himself to be remotely vulnerable, that was why he relied on Sanzu to keep him in check for what was at stake. It seemed sad to think that the blond man needed to be reminded of what could go wrong if he dared to feel human, but it was necessary. Both men knew.

It needed to be done.

“See Ran, the guy isn’t talking. Let me beat him up, your technique ain’t it.” Rindou spoke a few steps away from his brother as he watched him beat a guy to the pulp with his baton, gritting his teeth and hissing insults, questions, everything. 

A sigh was heard next to Mikey. A man that had no need to be there stood by the leader’s side, arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head, “Why did you not call Sanzu or The Reaper in? The Haitanis are not extortionists at all. They have close to no patience–”

“I trust them.” Mikey stated, implying much more with these words. He then gave Koko a glance from the side, “And Sanzu was sent on another errand.” It was enough to be clear for the long-haired man that nodded, returning his attention to the fight in front of them. All that they currently needed was one crumb of information to go further in their research on Shibata. Bonten was not one for infighting, it was a dishonor to betray the organization and lay a hand on any other member, other than a stupid drunken fight. But some made exceptions, some were allowed to ignore the rules if it meant helping the greater cause.

It was the only reason why one of Bonten’s lower-ranked members was on the floor, facial features unrecognizable from the different layers of dried blood covering his skin. The situation was something everyone in the warehouse meant to keep a secret; it was something that shouldn’t have happened, and yet did.

“Who gave you the fucking order? It’s not that fucking hard, speak up and you go free.”

“No one! I did it on my own!” And another punch, perhaps too strong this time as his head hit the ground all too forcefully, the sound dull enough to quiet everyone in the room as Ran let go of the man’s collar and stood up. He grabbed a rag Rindou handed him and dried his hands the best he could before walking up to Mikey, uncaring of the dirt and dampness on his clothes from kneeling over the man. With a deadpan expression, he met Mikey’s eyes, “He’s not talking.”

Mikey hummed, taking his phone out as he sent a quick message to Sanzu, informing him of the situation before tucking it in his pocket and meeting Ran’s eyes, “Orders are not thought, they’re given.” Mikey started, only to have Koko speak up impatiently, “This man met up with someone external to the organization, in the dead of the night, with exec-level information at his disposal that he somehow got all on his own?” He scoffed in disbelief, clicking his tongue against his teeth while huffing another laugh.

“Yeah, so if one of our guys is connected to Shibata, what’s telling us there aren’t more of them?” Rindou asked, his face full of disbelief with his brows furrowed. The man would often be perceived as the happier, more jovial brother—or at least the one people would get along with more—but those who believed it were absolute fools. He would end up being the life of the party, however he did enjoy his ‘job’, if one could call it such. He cared about two things, Bonten and his brother, meaning that if one of those was at risk he’d pour all his energy into fixing the issue. He was not one to ask for intricate details, but if someone assigned him something to do, precisely informing him of the outcome, he would do it happily. Sometimes too happily—part of him itched to fight. After all, that was what he had known most of his life, and he also believed it was a good way to get his frustration out from time to time.

He didn’t care about losing or winning, as long as what he cared for was safe.

Mikey hopped off his spot and walked to the bashed body on the ground, the man whimpering and sniffling—Mikey took his gun out and pointed it at him. “Corruption in a corrupting organization, it was only a matter of time before the dog caught its tail…” Mikey whispered before grabbing the man’s collar and lifting him off the ground while pressing the gun under his chin, “I’m nice enough to euthanize a rotten dog when I see one, tell me who gave you the order.” If death had a face, it’d be this one. The one of a man claiming mercy at a moment of weakness, the apathy in his eyes contrasting with the softness of his features as he nudged the gun further into the skin.

To the three men standing back, nothing could be heard. They watched as Mikey lifted the man, cocked the gun, and approached his head. Koko had been with Mikey for a bit longer than the Haitanis, he had seen him get his hands dirty. Even if the sight was rare to behold, he didn’t care much—however, the brothers watched like hawks, leaning in to hear anything that was being exchanged until the gunshot was heard and the body dropped dead with a hard sound from Mikey pushing it before letting go of the collar.

They both watched Mikey wipe his bloody face with the back of his hand, only spreading it more over his cheek before tossing the gun to Koko who caught it without missing a beat, “Ran, Rindou, some loyalty must be tested.”

Rindou interrupted in panic, but to others, it was simply impoliteness, “Hey Mikey, my brother and I ain’t betraying anyone, alright? So whatever that guy said, whatever test you got for us–”

With a simple look, Mikey had Rindou closing his mouth, giving him time to speak, “Sanzu will be providing you with a list of people, our people, that need their…” He smiled, a short smile, a frightening smile to encounter, “Allegiance reviewed.”

Ran scoffed, his eyes glancing at Koko who was already walking out of the warehouse. It was evident that things had been dealt with and he had places to be—Ran’s focus returned to the smaller man in the room, “Ah yeah, beating up some weak-asses to make sure they stick with us instead of whoever that traitor is. Count us in, Mikey.” He was about to pull Rindou with him on his way out, but paused and called out Mikey’s name who was walking away. The white-haired man turned around without much surprise upon being called and set his gaze on the brothers.

“You’re not gonna tell us who he snitched on, are you?” Ran asked, confident about his statement.

Mikey shook his head, “No. Someone else is in charge of that.”

The brothers both laughed and started walking, holding back from nudging their boss in some sort of pettiness upon not being the ones to deal with the traitor, “And you want your people to trust you blindly? When you don’t trust your own execs? Maybe if you–”

Rindou pushed Ran away from Mikey, telling him it wasn’t worth it—Mikey only tilted his head forward, shaking it ever so slightly, “You’re smart Ran, you should know your impulsivity is of better use elsewhere.” A short sigh escaped Mikey’s lips as he looked up and met Ran’s eyes with nothingness, no tell of a joke even as those words poured out, “A smart fighter is key to taking care of this traitor, not a reactive one.”

The purple-haired man looked over his shoulder at his brother, asking under his breath if he had just been called dumb, but Mikey did not let them speak. He only walked out, but not without reminding them, “You’ll receive a text soon. If you delegate that to your divisions make sure you trust them, you never know what’s amongst your ranks.” Soon enough, the sound of the door slamming echoed in the warehouse, leaving the two brothers inside.

Both looked at each other before looking at the body on the floor, far away from them.

Almost at the same time, they spoke, “Not it.” and started debating on who was faster, arguing about the upcoming plans for today only for Rindou to give the final defense, “It’s your mess, I ain’t your mom, take care of it yourself!” He raised his hands, smirking at his brother, proud of finding a valid argument that had Ran clenching his teeth in annoyance. He pulled out his phone and shooed the longer-haired man away as he called one of the members of his division, “Yeah, write down the address. I’ll stay ‘til you arrive so you better get here fast, I got shit to do.”

As he proceeded to spell out the address, Rindou patted his shoulder mockingly and told him he’d see him later before leaving Ran alone in the warehouse.

A while later, neither of them had yet received the information from Sanzu regarding the manhunt task Mikey had assigned to them, but the pink-haired man had been busy since the early hours of the morning on his errand. Amidst dealing with the businesses he was responsible for, he had been taking care of Shiho who had woken up ill after the night with her. He’d stayed at home in the meantime, making sure she would make it through the day. His sleep had been restless, partly due to the couch not having the same level of comfort as his own bed, and largely due to having to endure a night of Hanma’s girl screaming through nightmares. He wondered if the poor sleep right next to that woman must have led to Shiho’s overnight health decline as well. 

For now, not one of his men knew the reason for him not being on site to make himself heard, but they didn’t need to see him to fear him. They even less needed to know his girl was asleep on his lap while he told off idiots for how much they could fuck up simple orders.

His voice must have risen too much since Shiho stirred in her sleep and turned around to look at him. Before she could speak, he shushed her with a small smile, pointing at the phone. She nodded and wrapped her arms around him, listening to the voice she had grown to find so soothing.

“You find him, it’s not that hard. You find him, get the info out of him and make sure he doesn’t talk.” He stated, listening to the reply he was getting, reacting with a dry scoff, “Twelve hours, you don’t want me to visit your boyfriend, do you?” Hearing him coerce people made her feel funny. She felt some sort of pride to be on his good side, to have the honor to see him soft when he was feared and known to be one of the worst men of Bonten. 

As he hung up, he tossed the phone aside and kissed Shiho passionately, “Thought you’d died for a sec there. You just passed out after they left.” He uttered against her lips before kissing her once more, both smiling and slightly dazed. The woman hummed and threaded her fingers through his hair, “I don’t go down that easily, come on!” She chuckled, holding onto his shoulder for balance as she sat next to him, her legs now resting over his comfortably, “I was just tired, I guess tidying up a body late at night isn’t made for me.” She chuckled, adding that her friend had had nightmares during the night, which added to her restlessness.

Sanzu hummed, making Shiho grab his face towards her, “When you guys talked… did you tell Hanma to do something about her being sent on fucked up errands? I hate seeing her like that, I don’t think he realizes–”

“I did talk to him, yeah. He’s insane and says she’s fine. Can’t do much about it at this point.” He pondered, helping her legs off him as he stood up, “Don’t wanna get too involved in their shit either, I have a weird feeling about those two.” He couldn’t tell her all that he knew, he couldn’t be as honest as he wanted to be, but he could be vague and be grateful that the woman by his side trusted him enough.

Shiho took his hand and brought it to her face as he hovered over her, “Your strangely specific gut feelings?” She asked supportively. He had something he couldn’t share, she felt it, but she played along. Time would help him come out of his shell, she had seen it, she was convinced of that. All she could do until then was support him and be as open and true as she could to make him understand he could be like that with her as well.

He laughed, “Yeah, those. So be careful baby, okay?”

“I’m not the one hanging around that tall, assless asshole—you are, so you be careful!” She chuckled, wrapping her arms around him before moving her hips from left to right enthusiastically, rhythmically, happily. Sanzu wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her, “Wanna eat something, I gotta go in a few hours so I got some time before meeting Mikey.” The man was already on his way to the kitchen, halfway through putting an apron on when Shiho stopped him, a serious expression in her eyes, “I’m not—I’m not that hungry right now.” The woman tried hard to make her voice light, unbothered, but it had close to no effect on Sanzu.

He stopped dead in his tracks, looking at her intently, remembering all too well what was happening and that he couldn’t stop it. It was all that fucker’s fault if everything was going to hell right now; Mikey told him everything would be fixed this time if they followed his plan and he had to fuck it all up. 

Sanzu loved deeply. It was hard to contain, it was hard not to metaphorically beat common sense into his loved ones, to have them around longer. It was even harder to lose people, over and over again. He hated that. Grief felt physically painful to him—he had gone through so many iterations of it, caused by his own hand or by happenstance. Enough times to consider it a normal occurrence in his life, something he had to wake up and go to sleep with. It was supposed to be fixed, it was supposed to stop. He should not have to go through it for the umpteenth time this time. So why was he starting to feel it again? Why was his chest heavy, his heart yearning for the lover still by his side to wake up? Why was he screaming to himself in his own head to do something, he had to do something, he should do something, he is a fixer, he is reliable. 

What was he worth if she never could truly rely on him?

His heart weighed so much even as she stood in front of him.

He felt useless yet again.

It was like trying to bring a concrete block to the surface of the water.

He was helpless.

“I’ll make your favorite, don’t tell me I bought all those strawberries for nothing?” He asked with a huge grin. Her eyes lit up and so did his heart as she pushed past him, tugging him along to get to the fridge, “I’m a little peckish at best. Who knows, some of these might get up my appetite.” She said, already bringing one of the fruits to her mouth. As she did, she held back from retching, afraid of worrying him. A grin filled with red juice spread on her lips, “Just what I needed,” She grabbed some eggs from the fridge and handed them to Sanzu, “We gotta make tons of it, I wanna give them to–”

“Hanma’s girl, yeah, I get it.” Sanzu sighed, taking the eggs and a bowl as Shiho brought him the rest of the ingredients, fighting her gag reflex as she swallowed. 

“Have you considered that I don't wanna hear about her when I’m at home chilling?” The man muttered. He knew he shouldn’t have said that, but it had slipped out. Whatever justification had to come about his distaste for the woman could not be spoken out loud, not to Shiho. And yet, she joined his side with an apron on and looked down at the counter, “She’s my friend, Haru. I want to tell you about things that we did and that she does.”

He did not wait for her to finish to interject, “And all she does is fuck shit up!” He spat, immediately whispering a ‘sorry’ under his breath as he stopped mixing the batter and looked over at Shiho with a serious expression, “I just—I don’t care about her.” He set the mixer against the bowl and reached out for Shiho’s face, his hands cradling her cheeks gently as he bumped his forehead against her, “I care about you, but she brings bad shit around.”

“We’re all in the same boat, how is she any different?” The woman did not hold onto Sanzu’s hands as she would usually do, she wanted an explanation at this very instant. He brushed her hair back, his hold on her tightening, pressing her cheeks as he kissed her forehead while a strained smile slowly grew on his face, “It doesn’t matter, it… ah, it doesn’t fucking matter because it’s–” it’s already decided. What's done is done. He’s not allowed to change anything. No matter what he so desperately wished to do right now, he would not sacrifice Mikey’s happiness and peace of mind for his own. 

Loyal to a fault.

Kind to a fault.

Selfless to a fault.

That’s what he was, that’s why he hated her. That stupid woman that got Hanma’s attention, who went and had that stupid butterfly effect on their carefully, painfully-crafted plan for the best possible outcome. She had to fuck it all up. She had to mess up his one shot at a semblance of normalcy, and he hated her for that. He couldn’t bear the sight of that woman, that wreckage of a woman that, after ruining everything for so many people, was also losing herself in the process.

He smiled.

“I don’t mind hearing about you and her, I love hearing how your day went, yeah? Just… I don’t care about Hanma and his girl.” Sanzu whispered, letting go of Shiho’s cheeks before kissing her softly, “Unless it’s important, I can do without knowing shit ‘bout their private life.”

Shiho nodded and deepened the kiss, placing her hands on his hips as she pressed him against her, “I guess there are people you just can’t stand, it’s alright. I’m just sad it’s her.” She mumbled, her hands sliding to his back as she hugged him tight, tears threatening to fall. There was something deeper to what Sanzu was saying, but he was not telling her. No matter how much she reminded herself that he would eventually come around and open up about this matter too, as he had done about so many others in the past, it was still hard to be this patient. But she would do it for him. She considered telling Sanzu to stop mentioning Mikey as a rebuttal, but she knew if Sanzu had to choose between the white-haired man and herself, she would be no match.

Then, she immediately thought that as long as she was by his side, she would be happy. He would never have to choose between Mikey and her, because no matter the choice he would make, she would stand by him. That was how inexplicably closely-bound she felt to him.

“I suppose she is reckless, it is something you don’t like much.” Shiho added as she brushed the stray tear away and huffed a laugh, “But hey!” She laughed a bit more, “We’re all still around for now, so it’s not that reckless, right?” As she grabbed the mixer and the bowl, she leaned in playfully, “Plus, remember when I told you about that one time I got into a car with a guy from the bar so he could show me around his weed farm? I’m also a bit of a reckless person, you know?” She commented.

Sanzu let out a hard laugh, short but effective, “You do have a tendency to follow druggies home, huh?” He leaned over the counter, elbows placed on it while his head rested in the palm of his hand.

“I don’t plan on doing that anymore, I think I found the right guy. Don’t know about you, but my man’s pretty cute.” She started, turning the mixer on as she mouthed to him over the sound: “Good in bed too!”

Sanzu couldn’t help but look at her with adoration.

Even if they were part of the biggest criminal organization in Japan—both labeled as criminals, both now outcasts of the society they so passionately helped grow from the shadows somehow, both pariahs for having committed crimes so unfathomable to the eyes of normal people—they were still, at the very core of their soul, human beings, human fools, that had found some serenity in all these horrors by finding each other.

By making each other smile.

A solace, some would call it. Solace in the midst of this incessant and unwavering brutality they could never run away from.

There was something uncanny about how human nature was prone to seek such peace while sowing havoc. And that almost contradiction of character would show more in some than others. 

Sanzu was selfless, but Hanma was selfish.

Even as he stood behind his girl’s chair while she talked with Mocchi about their new place, he was thinking of what he would do next to protect her. To keep her by his side. Shibata could not plant seeds of doubt in their ranks because those seeds grew so easily when being watered by fear and paranoia. He had to rely on the Haitanis to weed out those sprouts but hated doing so since it meant her safety depended on how good they would be at keeping those doubtful thoughts at bay. It depended on how good they would be at his fucking job—intimidation, taking care of renegades, that was his shit.

Being put on mole-hunting duty felt degrading to him. He wouldn’t speak it out loud, but he didn’t give a shit about the fucker that had betrayed them. No matter who they were, he wouldn’t do as Mikey said, he wouldn’t bring them to him. They had put her at risk, and after what happened, he didn’t care about Mikey’s plans for the future. He never did, but even less now, with his girl’s life at stake.

“Yeah, sure, you want something you like, but how many rooms? Where do you want–” Mocchi was starting to get annoyed at how vaguely Hanma’s girl was explaining what she wanted. Hanma reached for the file on Mocchi’s desk and handed it to the woman sitting down, “Give her a catalog of whatever’s available, she doesn't have any expectations—see, that’s all she needed.” He brought their attention to her as she happily looked through it.

From his spot, he saw a figure outside that immediately disappeared, which alerted him. That’s all he needed to have his interest piqued as he patted his girl’s shoulder and addressed everyone, “Be back in a bit, gotta deal with something.” He looked at Kakucho who stood in the corner on a seat, busying himself but aware enough to look up from his phone and meet Hanma’s eyes. The latter did not need to say that he should keep her safe, they knew that while Hanma was responsible for her, all were aware of the target that seemed to be on her head.

Grabbing his coat by the door, the man left the building with a determined stride as he took in every detail of his surroundings. Sometimes he wondered why sellouts were so bad at spying, there was nothing discreet about wearing all-black and a cap—it seemed to be their go-to attire. He thought movies had used the concept enough times to make people use their common sense and not wear that, but clearly common sense was not as common as the name led to believe.

After the countless times he was sent on errands, years after years, he had learned the layout of the town. He knew each nook, each turn, each shady street and dead-end; and having followed people around for even longer, he could guess where they would run out of their first instinct. His walk was inconspicuous, the only thing that made people look at him was his height, and perhaps at times his tattoos, but considering his hands were currently shoved in his pocket, there wasn’t much for people to gawk at. His long legs meant he was fast, faster than the fucker that he could now see from afar as he looked over his shoulder, noticing him.

A satisfied smile made its way onto his lips as he grabbed his phone and quickly texted Kakucho; not that he had saved his number under any name—he simply recognized the recent text conversation.

It read, ‘found a shitbata rat, take her home when she picked what she wants’

He didn’t care for an answer, none of them would let her go home alone—out of politeness or chivalry, whichever it was he could count on it to drive them to take responsibility for his girl while he was gone.

The smile on his face couldn’t falter as excitement filled his being; this one wasn’t dead like the previous one, he was going to have a blast. Quickly, he took a turn before the idiot did and made sure to take a dark street that was not frequented, one that, while having two entries, led to a dead-end. With faster steps, Hanma stopped right where the light shone like a spotlight from the main street and hid behind the wall, waiting patiently for the man to walk in.

It took all but one minute for the rabid beast to fall into his trap, phone in hand as he panically spoke, “The gigantic one!” he waited, “I don’t know! Fuck, fuck, I messed up, he’s onto me, I–” Another pause while the person on the other end spoke. It was embarrassing to break down at such a small thing. Hanma had no idea if this guy was another fucker that turned his back on Bonten or if it was a born-and-bred Shibata, but he was weak for sure. The worse was perhaps how inattentive the man was to not have noticed Hanma waiting by to see what else was going to be said.

“Yeah, I think I lost him for now…” He nodded, humming in understanding which Hanma found a bit funny since the other fucker on the phone couldn’t see him. His eyes did not leave the man as he paced, kicking at some trash on the ground. It was only a matter of seconds before his feet led to Hanma. The latter pondered in a split second if he should retreat a bit and wait for more information, but instead he stood his ground until the spy’s eyes set on Hanma’s shoes, slowly following the source and meeting his playful gaze.

Hanma brought a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, but he could see the man was going to scream anyway. He quickly covered his mouth and pressed the idiot’s back against his chest as he held him there, using his free hand to grab the phone himself. 

Bringing it to his ear, he waited for a voice on the other end but it seemed that person was also waiting—Hanma spoke first, “Well, isn’t this awkward… tell you what! Tell me a story and keep me entertained for 2 minutes and I won’t kill your guy.”

The call ended.

Hanma shoved the phone in his pocket; he would decide its fate later on, right now he had to deal with this softie. “Clearly whoever that was didn’t think you mattered enough—are you for real crying, kid?” The one in control rolled his eyes and pressed his hand further on the man’s mouth, “Scream and people come in, come in and they’ll find a dead body.” He felt the fool’s body tense under him and patted his cheek mockingly, “So!” He pushed him off, making him fall to his knees, “Wanna play Guess Who?”

The man on the floor started stuttering, struggling so much it was painful to watch when knowing he was supposedly part of an organization that was giving Bonten so much trouble. Hanma leaned on the wall, waiting for the words to finally leave the man’s mouth without a struggle—with how long it was taking, Hanma took the initiative and said, “I take it as a yes, you don’t got much choice anyway.” He shrugged.

“Alright, is it a man?”

The man on the floor looked at Hanma intently to make it seem like he’d been staring from the very beginning, to stop his eyes from fleeting—or to make him believe they never did so in the first place. Hanma smiled, already satisfied.

“Feels like it could be an exec,” Hanma started, pondering out loud rather than asking the wriggling fool on the floor. He then turned his face rapidly and looked at him, “But then again! None of ‘em would have been stupid enough to get caught.” He stepped closer to the mouse caught in a trap and grabbed his ankle, dragging him out of the daylight in case he ever considered leaving, should his mind felt this spur of temerity.

It wasn’t hard for the tallest man to ignore the pleas of despair from the worm he held, who wouldn’t beg death to let them go just this one time? Once he dropped his foot, Hanma sighed, “We’ll go step by step then, is it first division?”

The man’s eyes widened, he shook his head, “No no, it’s the fourth division, it’s–”

“You didn’t tell me shit up until now, why would I trust you?” He clicked his tongue and kicked the man in the chest, making him hit the floor with a rough thud, “First division, huh. Who would have thought…” He pointed his thumb towards his chest, “I would have thought, that fucker’s been sus as hell for months now.”

“I—I don’t know who you’re talking about!”

Hanma’s hand gripped the weaker man’s jaw with enough force to hear a slight crack, effortlessly shutting him up, “Shhh. I wasn’t fucking done.” The nod in his hand made him understand he could continue, he then pushed his head away, this time making it hit the hard floor. The man was now knocked out, he probably had a concussion too, and Hanma was too lost in his own thoughts, planning on how to deal with the matter.

Giving the passed out body a disgusted glance, Hanma brought a cigarette to his lips, lighting it casually, “Ya can never trust anyone, look away for just seconds and you’re missing so much—so make ‘em captain of a division and ah!” He puffed the smoke, pointing at the guy on the floor, “They make people die for them!” He shook his head in disbelief, taking a long drag and keeping the smoke in as he added, smiling all too knowingly, “Not like it’s a surprise, but you know, I always thought the man was too nice for his own good—if we ignore that one time…”

The smoke rose into the air as Hanma puffed once more before dropping the cigarette on the man’s shirt and stepping on it to crush it, getting no reaction from the sellout that laid on the ground, “Man always had one foot in—the other was with the cops, but it looks like the bad guys are much more efficient than whatever pig was on his side.” 

For a moment, Hanma had to consider his next move. He could let him go, let him run back to his little master—after all, it wouldn’t change shit since he’d had someone on the phone listening when he was captured. Fucker knew Bonten was on his trail, but did he also know they knew exactly who he was? Pulling the weasel’s phone out, Hanma scoffed at the burner phone but looked through the contacts only to find one number saved with no name. There was no need to call it back, it was probably from another burner phone. Any tracks he might have to find that bastard would be pointless right now. 

Smashing it on the ground, he hit it hard with his heel and knelt by the man, holding the side of his face for a moment, “We can’t have you tattle tale now, can we?”

Crack.

“Now this is going to be a fucking pain to deal with.” He sighed, rolling up his sleeves as he grabbed a full trash bag from a nearby bin and emptied its contents on the floor, then a second one. It was not an easy play to shove a grown body in a bag not made for that capacity, but Hanma found a certain talent in himself for doing so. He added another bag around it and started shoving some trash back inside so that for the average eye, it would still look like simple garbage thrown away. It took a bit of time cracking bones and bending a human body unnaturally, but once he was done, he took hold of some additional bags before breathing out and lifting them from the ground—the struggle laid in not losing balance with the weight of a dead body on one side and household trash on the other.

He also needed to look as natural as possible so that no one would not look twice his way, believing he’s just taking out some trash. Luck was on his side considering he did not have to follow the man too far from where he’d parked; all Hanma had to do was walk about five minutes before reaching his car and dropping the body in the trunk. As he did so, avoiding bumping into people on his way there, he made a mental note to search the body for any ID or car keys. He couldn’t just leave the man’s car parked down the road for too long or people would get suspicious, which ultimately would lead to them realizing this man was gone.

With a deep sigh, Hanma shut the trunk closed and shoved his keys in his pockets before getting back inside—it had taken a lot less time than he’d planned, but he hoped his girl would have chosen a place by now. As he was about to enter, he heard them talking loudly, with Kakucho saying, “It doesn’t matter, he’ll be back in a few, just stay here and–” A slam on the door surprised Hanma but he did not intervene, he had guessed it was Kakucho blocking the way so he chuckled to himself and waited.

“I just need to pee, it’s not that deep. Let me out, don’t tell me you don’t have toilets.” She was interrupted by Kakucho laughing loudly as he locked the door and probably took the key from it, by the sound Hanma heard.

“To be honest, I have no fucking clue what’s going on in your head, so I’d rather keep you here until he comes back than have you running around playing gangster and fucking shit up.” Kakucho explained as a matter of fact before adding, “You know?”

Even though Hanma didn’t like most of them all that much, Kakucho was one of the pretty bearable ones, and he even managed to make him laugh as he heard his girl huff.

“He does whatever he wants, Kakucho. He’ll come back whenever, I’m not about to follow him and mess shit up, okay? So get out of the way, please.” She tried to push him, to get him to budge, but he did not—instead, he stood his ground and gripped her hand with force, clicking his tongue with a shake of his head. “Okay? Then piss yourself?”

For some reason, Hanma felt a tinge of annoyance when he heard her burst out in laughter.

Shaking her head, she stopped insisting on leaving and rolled her eyes with a smile before slumping on the couch, “Don’t push your kinks on people like that Kakucho, it’s a bit…” she made a face, followed by another laugh as she crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

“I don’t have a piss kink, I just have other shit to do than having Hanma up my ass cause I let his dog roam free.” He rolled his eyes and left the door to lean on the desk where Mocchi was preparing the red tape for the house she had chosen. Both Kakucho and the woman stared at one another in silence, both with a straight face until Kakucho started smiling in disbelief, “Your ass grew bold, you wouldn’t have dared to look at any of us like that before.”

She raised a brow, “Like what? I’m just staring, waiting for permission to go pee. I want my sticker for good behavior.” She said with a dry smile as she rested her elbows on her knees, debating whether she should text Hanma out of boredom or keep staring at Kakucho. The latter was much more interesting as he looked away and huffed, “You’re fucking weird.”

Before she could add something, Hanma knocked on the door and jokingly said from the other side, “One of us took this more seriously than necessary. Unlock the door, Kaku, it’s super sus that you locked that shit.”

Seconds later the key was in the lock, twisting audibly as the door opened and Hanma stepped in—he made sure to look down at Kakucho with a weirded out expression, “This ain’t free use, you better not have touched her.” He whispered, making the scarred man return the half-weirded, half-surprised expression, maybe with a sprinkle of disgust, “You’re welcome.”

He turned around and went back to his seat to let Mocchi take care of them. The woman on the couch stayed there as Hanma walked up to her, his hands reaching for her face as he tilted her head back, “Did you give him a hard time?”

Her smile was tender as she met his eyes, her words barely a whisper, “I wouldn’t dare, I told you I’d behave, right?” His eyes seemed to soften for a moment after hearing her words, then he smirked and hummed, thinking he couldn’t keep her locked up for too long. Keeping her in a cage, it would only have her go feral the few times she’d be out of it—so he grinned mischievously, “Ya can give him a hard time you know, man can’t just have an easy life.” Then he pecked her lips and went to check the papers Mocchi was preparing, taking a look at the place she had chosen. Looking through those that were already signed and completed, he read through everything rapidly, more out of boredom than anything, then he put them back on the desk and asked Mocchi, “We can move in today, yeah?”

Mocchi sighed in frustration, “Well, yes, but she took the one with the most paperwork and I don’t know if it’ll be processed fast enough.”

“Whatever needs to be done, do it. Where do I get the key? Just give me the address and we’re out.” As Mocchi looked through his drawers for the key of this specific house, the woman stood up and looked over Hanma’s shoulders, her hands on them to help her balance on her toes, “Thank you Mocchi, sorry for the rush.”

Mocchi mumbled something inaudible, rummaging through the drawer before handing Hanma the keys and still with annoyance, met the woman’s gaze, “Don’t get followed home this time.”

Her eyes filled with disbelief and anger as her hands gripped Hanma tighter just before letting go, “Excuse me? Now I’m to blame for an entire gang trying to take over Bonten?” She spoke too rapidly to be considered reasonable or sensible, it took a short time for Hanma to debate whether he should intervene or not.

He decided to step back and watch.

“Be fucking real with me, Mocchi,” She started, forcing his chair to turn around, “Speak up! Tell me what you think!” She then crossed her arms over her chest and smiled, a tight smile that displayed her seething anger. It made Hanma happy to see her something other than distraught for a moment. “Since everyone seems to be so opinionated on the matter, I am more than interested in hearing what important take you have on something you haven’t dabbled one fucking second in.” Her heart was beating fast as she remembered the encounter she’d had, having constant reminders of being followed over and over again, only to be called insane and paranoid. She was convinced others had gone through worse, but not him. Not the man seated in front of her, and yet he dared speak from a place of comfort about her misfortune? Oh, the privilege that a man basks in by being confident in whatever shit spewed from his mouth.

He scoffed but did not dare stand up, “I’m saying a good studio got ruined just cause you were dumb enough to get followed!” It did not have the effect intended. It did not rally the two others by his side, he did not receive any answer from the woman who now seemed to be dissociating right in front of him, her eyes wide open as if she had seen the most atrocious thing in the world and yet full of emptiness. Mocchi cleared his throat; a few moments after, the woman’s gaze finally met his own, and she smiled before lurching at him.

It took but a second for Hanma to pull her back, his arm wrapped around her waist as he only tugged enough to have her tumble slightly. Her face turned to him in anger at first, pissed off that he had interrupted her, then realization hit and her eyes widened, fear flooding them. Hanma barely met her gaze as he pushed her behind him and snatched the key from Mocchi’s hands, “That one’s deserved, nobody’s sorry ‘bout your face.” Hanma commented off-handedly.

Kakucho seemed to agree, “Bit of a low blow Mocchi, tell your wife she’s to blame for getting mugged while you’re at it!” That struck a chord with the larger man as he looked at Kakucho with mouth agape, now stuttering and struggling to find words to defend himself. His cheeks were starting to tint a darker shade from embarrassment, but no one truly paid attention. The woman responsible for the pain he now felt in his face straightened her back and composed herself. She had promised herself to never lose it in front of Hanma ever again, this was her last slip up. “I could tell you I’m sorry, but you deserved to have some sense beat into you.” She spat, turning around and making her way out of the office.

Right before stepping out, she looked over her shoulder, “Thank you both for your help!” she said almost sweetly. Kakucho let out a chuckle at her tone, aware of the fuming Mocchi next to him. The former man did not mind the woman that much, he had seen her descent into the person she was now, he knew there wasn’t much helping her state without getting on Hanma’s bad side. And seeing how enthralled she was with him, he couldn’t bring her back to reality; whatever happened next, no one but Hanma was to blame, Kakucho knew that.

“If you need help moving stuff in, I think the business provides that service.” Kakucho started, only to get shoved aside by Mocchi who stood up from his chair and stomped towards the door, still annoyed as he lifted his chin, “Don’t mention my wife again, get it?” He gritted through his teeth, it made the woman laugh to see him trying to be intimidating while being in the wrong.

Giving him a condescending smile, she leaned forward, “Would you like an apology?”

“Yes.”

She cut him off proudly, filled with arrogance and bitterness, “Because you won’t get one. Respect’s mutual, I don’t owe you shit if you treat me like shit, get it?” If one had paid attention, one would have heard the small hum of satisfaction that had built up in Hanma’s throat—but all that one could see was the small rictus on his lips as he held back from praising her. Even with the slip-up that happened moments ago, her effort of remaining calm was commendable, and he would make sure to tell her so in his own way once they were alone.

Without giving them a proper answer, Mocchi shoved them out and slammed the door behind the pair of outcasts.

As they stood outside, a short silence settled only for it to be broken by Hanma, “I’d have punched him too, his ugly ass stepped outta line.” he said. As if she had been holding her breath, the woman sighed in relief and gave him a smile, “I’ll keep myself in check still, but there might be a reason why his wife’s leaving him,” She started, walking ahead of Hanma, turning around slightly as she added, “You know, with him being a dick and whatnot. Pretty sure he’s the type of guy that would tell his wife to go get changed cause she’d dressed too hot for him.” It made Hanma chuckle.

The tall man changed topic radically as he tossed her the key, “You better have picked something easy to take care of cause the bigger the place, the bigger are the odds you’ll end up doing that shit on your own. I don’t got time for chores and tidying up around.” He explained, walking past her this time as he opened the door and let her catch up to him. She slammed her hand on the door as it started closing once Hanma let go. Huffing and puffing, the woman joined him in the car that was parked not too far.

There was this strange feeling in her guts once she was inside, as if they weren’t alone. Aside from her constant company, she felt strange—so she faced Hanma while buckling her seatbelt, “Something’s off.” Now on high alert, she was looking around, fighting hard not to panic.

Hanma shrugged and started the car, “Could be the dead body in the trunk. Could be a Shibata spying your every move. Could be anything, really.” There was a time when the woman would have been repulsed by the words uttered by the man, she would have gasped and panicked even, but now? Now she looked at him with wide eyes, debating with her inner thoughts whether she should praise whatever he had done, or play the card of shock. She couldn’t stress over such silly things anymore, he knew what he was doing, she had to trust that. 

So she smiled in disbelief, “Body?” The woman inquired, her eyes darting to the back of the car, not that anything could be seen in the trunk from their seat. Humming, Hanma tapped his fingers on the wheel as he sped up on the road, a sort of satisfied smile on his lips, “Debated for a bit if he should live or not, caught him on call with the mole, but ya know. He didn’t reply when I grabbed the phone.”

The woman scoffed slightly, “Obviously. So what’s the next step?”

“Next step’s getting some dirt on the bastard—before you ask: no, I won’t tell you who it is.” He tilted his head to the side, grinning at the woman teasingly as she rolled her eyes and focused her gaze on the road, telling him she wouldn’t go after the traitor herself. It made Hanma laugh as he gripped her thigh tightly, his nails digging into her skin enough to make her hiss in pain, “Yeah, cause it ain’t your problem, you got Shitbata duty.” He then dropped his tone, adding in a more serious voice, “Less risk of you going batshit.”

With a dramatically loud sigh, he let the back of his head hit the seat, “I’d even tell you to focus on getting a pretty ‘fit for Koko’s stupid gala, but you know.”

“Yes. You know too, I’m not staying benched like a porcelain doll.” She needed to actively participate in annihilating Shibata—they had made her feel unsafe in her own place, in the streets even by Hanma’s side, and now they had made her feel crazier than necessary with everyone thinking she was paranoid.

They tried to take down the weakest link, her. Just like Bonten was planning on doing by taking down Shibata’s leader’s girlfriend, Masami—to some extent, it made the woman seated in the car laugh, which brought Hanma’s attention back to her. “What’s funny?” He asked, one brow raised in confusion as he pulled down a street.

The woman shook her head dismissively, the action itself ticked off Hanma but he didn’t mention anything yet, he waited for her to speak. “Isn’t it funny we’re following their pattern?” She asked, amazed by the conclusion she had come to.

“Pattern?”

“Yeah, they tried to take care of me first. The crazy pariah, you know? And we’re doing the same, we’re taking down Masami to begin with.” With a soft hum, she weighed her words carefully. Just from Hanma’s face, she knew she was going down the wrong path with her words, yet she continued, now self-conscious, “Except they didn’t take in consideration that I wouldn’t go down that easily and that I’m—not to sound unhinged or anything—but, like, killing me won’t do shit to Bonten, you know?” That’s when Hanma parked in front of their new place, confusion painted all over his face as he looked at her with a hint of disbelief.

Quickly, the woman added, “What if I die, right? Maybe you’ll get a bit sad, but the rest? They won’t care for shit. Which is fair enough, they hate me.”

Whatever she added would be of no value to Hanma, he had heard enough and he needed to show her that this way of thinking was stupid to say the least. Getting out of the car, he forced her out of it too and pulled her to the door, ignoring whatever she was saying in confusion and annoyance of him not letting her go. Once he had locked the door behind them, he led her to the kitchen and helped her on the large island before wrapping her legs around his waist and forcing her to lay on the counter.

“What the fuck is going on, Shuji?” She scoffed, clearly not understanding why he was acting like that. When his hand found its way around her neck she gasped and as the pressure grew, the air in her lungs slowly depleting, her eyes started to water. It was so beautiful to see her weak under him, seeing her struggle, gasping for air with her hands around his arm. It only made her more alive.

“There we go,” He breathed out, his face close to hers while a smirk drew itself on his lips, “Your pity party was missing something—tears add something to it, doesn’t it?” Hanma’s thumb slowly tilted her face back, but his hand never let go of her neck. The gesture had long since lost the meaning of a threat and had taken the name of intimacy. 

Slowly, he slid his free hand under her shirt and felt the texture of the lingerie, making him sigh in satisfaction while raking his nails against it. She tried to gulp but with the hold on her throat, all but a strangled sound escaped her lips while her eyes bore intensely into Hanma’s—they were not screaming for help, she was not afraid, but she was confused, hoping her nails digging in his skin would somehow make him understand her thoughts. 

Reaching inside his pocket, Hanma pulled out a switchblade and used it to pop the buttons from her shirt, exposing her undergarment, “Thought we had an understanding or something, after last meeting.” Gently, he moved the knife on her stomach, the tip threatening to pierce her skin as it already did the fabric, “So tell me,” He slit the garment, angling the blade like he was peeling something as he ripped at the lower part. The sound of tearing clothing made the woman gasp audibly, at least for the little air she could get from it, “Why do you have the audacity to be self-pitying around me?” He gritted through his teeth.

She shook her head, finally managing to get his hand away from her throat—it was no grand feat considering Hanma had let go, but he loved seeing this pride on her face as she pried his hand away. “What self-pitying? It’s a fact!” She spat, making Hanma’s brows furrow in fake-sorrow, as if her words were hard to hear, but if anything they pissed him off. To assume he’d be slightly sad when she was gone, it made him laugh. And to think it wouldn’t affect Bonten? He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at how convenient this little speech of hers was at this very instance. How embarrassed she would feel to speak those words out loud if she knew what she had gotten herself into—what he had gotten them all into.

She was starting to get pissed off, this time her hand reached for the back of his head as she pulled him closer, “Why the fuck are you laughing? Tell me it would do shit to them! I don’t care if it doesn’t, it’s just–”

Eyes wide. A smile she had seen countless times, the one of a maniac, the one she had seemed to grow fond of as she kept ending up face to face with it. Hanma’s nose was against hers as he stated in a sing-song voice, “If you go down, Bonten goes down.” It made her eyes widen in shock and her grip slack, her hands found their way to his shoulders. Whatever annoyance she had moments ago had been replaced by this fast beating of her heart, this warmth filling her entire body that made her face heat up.

“You don’t realize it all relies on my silence?” He hummed melodiously, unzipping his pants before taking his shirt off and helping her arms inside it so he could lock them above her head. He smiled, “Imagine this. You died because they failed to take down a bunch of kids, yeah?” He paused and roughly took all that was in his way before wrapping her legs back around his waist, “The sole outcome is me ruining all they ever worked for. All they ever wanted would be gone by my fucking hands.” 

There was something in the matter-of-fact tone he had been so keen on using that had her all aflutter. The confidence in his words and actions as spread her lower lips and started playing with her clit had her staying silent while he continued his speech, now leaning fully over her as his hands had their own will, “Wah-fucking-wah, no one will mourn me when I’m dead.” He mocked her, grabbing her jaw with force and making her look him in the eyes, “Then try harder to make your life meaningful, yeah?” 

Her confused expression had shifted to one of submission, with glazed eyes and a lazy smile she nodded. She found some comfort in his words, it was odd; with the roughness of his touch and seemingly harsh way to put things, there was still some tenderness to it all. His love language was so different from the ones many would have encountered, but she’d grown accustomed to it, she wouldn’t trade it for the world. Yet her eyes faltered to the side for a second before looking back at him, whatever devotion her gaze carried now mixed with doubt. “It isn’t like you to give life lessons, Shu.” She whispered, unhooking his hand from her jaw to slide two fingers in her mouth as she licked them; she then pulled them out and smirked, “Why don’t you make me forget my stupid thoughts, hm?” 

If part of her enjoyed his words, that part was disappearing. She couldn’t lean into that side of herself. Rai was a reminder that looking back would only make her weak, that’s why she ignored her from the corner of her eyes. The woman knew she could rely on Hanma to make her head go empty, even for just a few fleeting moments. She was convinced that by staying by his side, she would disappear.

Was she Rai? Or was it her past self? The self that no one wanted to see, the one that was distraught, the one fighting the upper hand only to lose each and every damn time.

It didn’t matter.

“Life lessons?” He scoffed, helping her legs on his shoulders as he nodded for her to hold onto the side of the counter above her head, “I’m making sure my investment doesn’t kill herself—it’d be a shame to see such a pretty face go to waste.” He made sure to punctuate his final word by shoving himself inside her, making her grip tighten. Her back on the hard surface made the position all the more painful, but she didn’t want it to stop. “Ending up as—as a, ah—trophy wife isn’t…” Her sentence was interrupted by a guttural moan that tore from her throat, her back arching into him for more, “It’s not—what I thought I’d—end up as.” She finished, jokingly. 

Hanma’s eyes that had been focused on her body up until now slowly left to meet her eyes with mischief, “Aren’t ya talkative? Maybe I’m not hitting hard enough.” With that, he started fucking her like she wanted it, feeling him deep inside her so much it hurt. Each thrust made her groan louder and louder, her arms starting to feel numb from the dreadful angle they were in, but she wasn’t letting go. Instead, she tried to meet his thrusts halfway, only to have Hanma press her hips into he counter hard, a scream of pain resonating, “There, there, right now you’re my fuck doll, what’re you doing being proactive and shit?”

Through elation and sounds of pleasure, she started breathing heavily—it was hard to find the words, but with enough effort, she managed to utter, “Necro’s a new one—Shu, didn’t know you were—into that shit.” It earned her a genuine laugh from Hanma as the speed of his thrusts fastened, his grip on her hips harder to handle which only made her smile through the pain. “Pity party’s over clearly.” He said breathlessly, his hand ripping the shirt from her arms as he bundled it up and shoved it in her mouth. The extra fabric covered her eyes, but she never let go of the counter. She only laughed.

“Can’t have you mentionin’ necro again, that was fucking weird.” With her fully exposed like that, he felt himself get closer—and from the way her hands let go of the counter to reach for him only to be pushed away, he could have guessed she was getting close. Quickly, he pried her legs apart and turned her around, fucking her from behind as hard as he could. She was whining under him, whimpering at her hip bone pressing against the counter and at the constant ramming of his hips against her ass. The angle had her seeing white, her face now laying on the surface that had long since warmed up from her body.

Suddenly Hanma’s rapid thrusts came to a stop, his motion stuttering before he pulled out and came all over her back. His hand didn’t stop, he kept playing with her clit as he spoke through his pleasure with a laugh, “Shit, I like that idea of baptizing the room, it makes it really a lot more…”

“Like home.” The woman breathed out in daze once she had tossed the shirt out of her mouth, now weakly trying to turn around. Hanma helped her and let her wrap her legs around him once more, her arms now draped over his shoulders as she rested her forehead against his. He did not mimic her gesture, his hands remaining on the counter by her thighs. “To be honest, anything will do as long as they don’t know we’re here, you know?”

“With the price I paid for this shit I ain’t leaving if they find it again.” Hanma scoffed, his eyes darting to the window upon seeing something out there. That relief of being somewhere safe was only fleeting, for him at least—but as long as those assholes didn’t act on their spying yet, he could keep it from her. He could let her bask in this safety, because he would make it safe, no matter what.

The woman hummed and leaned back while still holding onto him, “Alright.” She paused, thinking for a moment, “But you know Shu, the other rooms are not very welcoming…” Her hands moved from his shoulders down his arms before gently wrapping around his waist, her lips pressing on his collarbone softly, “We gotta cleanse all that bad energy, don’t you think?” She said jokingly.

Hanma let his head fall back, he grunted loudly then gripped her hair, forcing her away from him before kissing her with force, “Let me smoke one, give me five minutes and I’ll fuck you against the main window.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t say that, I meant like the couch or–”

He interrupted her like she did him, “So no window?”

She remained silent and let go of him before covering herself and looking to the side, “Yes window.”

Hanma already had a cigarette between his lips when he smiled at her, he took a few steps back towards the garden and puffed out the moment he opened the window, “That’s what I thought.”

Now apart, each had their own thoughts to face.

How long could he keep it from her that they were being watched? He would enjoy fucking her in front of them, clearly they would not do shit right now or they would have shot him through that window a while ago. So what was stopping them? Hanma needed to get him to admit what he had leaked to Shibata—he needed to know everything to have a good enough reason to kill him in the name of Bonten.

Bonten, the organization that made her feel like shit. Even with him by her side she saw Rai, would nothing cut it now? Would she ever be alone? She needed to find a way to keep her away, anything as long as it would do the trick. She would rather stay away from drugs knowing how badly it could all end up, but what else could she do?

She needed to find out what Rai's pattern was, when she was alone? No, not anymore. Vulnerable? No, it wasn’t it, she needed to uncover that.

And Hanma needed to take care of Shibata before it repeated itself. He knew what to do to avoid it—he had convinced himself he knew, at the very least. 

It would all work out.

[Part 5]

#tokyorev #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma #hanma x reader #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji #deranged love #salvaged love #fanfiction #ao3 #writer #writings #writing #physicalturian AO3 #physicalturian

[cultofthorns]

the myth of the minotaur (danielewski 111)

#ultrakill #minos ultrakill #minotaur ultrakill #i love house of leaves sm the minotaurs inclusion made me go CRAZY #also this was such a deranged piece. to make #intention wise trying to be as geometric in shapes as possible to resemble the fucked up squares in hol #execution wise I WENT THROUGH THREE DIFFERENT RENDERING STYLES TO GET HERE #it made me insane but i can chalk that up to the hol influence #zampano blasted into forgetting how to paint #fishart #1k

[fromxxthexxashes]

The difference between the 911 and Lonestar fandoms is so funny to me.

On one hand, you have Lonestar fans who are dancing, singing, and theorizing about the Tarlos wedding.

Then you’ve got the OG 911 fans, and we’re over here like:

“THE COUCH! THE COLOR THEORY!!”

Another hilarious distinction is that Lonestar fans are like, “please don’t hurt our favs. just let them be happy”

And OG fans are like, “YES! PUT THAT MAN IN A COMA! BURN HIS APARTMENT DOWN!”

#we are kind of deranged #and I love us for that #911onfox #911 lone star #buddie #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #tarlos

[artgletic]

hopelessly romantic over the concept of information

#the ancient is a design i made up for someone that srs could talk to #just wanted to explore a robots love thru computation and physicality 😇 #and how the extent of this is deranged when not literally a supercomputer #how would the ancient even hold wnough pearls to contain the entirety of their structure 😭 #srs rain world #seven red suns #iterator rain world #rain world iterator #rain world #why did i pick srs? nsh too busy fucking around lttm doesnt really care for the ancients and 5p isnt capable of love. hope this helps💛

[avisisisis]

been rewatching rtte

toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world

i think hiccup was also called H???

hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind

snotlout is canonically a theater kid

"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"

the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid

hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something

heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid

fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!

it was super hetnormative but it was cute

there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism

hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet

everyone is a flat earther except for the twins

hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people

and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships

“scalding– cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series

dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about

actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That

just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly

oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him

there's a technically musical episode

tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence

hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs

he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going

snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((

THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!

viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)

skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!

"COMEEE TO DADDY"

what is a boar pit???

oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny

this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am

berserker heather the unhinged >>>

actually good disability rep! yay

hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him

he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times

"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap

funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon

the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!

there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling

astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome

the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane

the twins were straight up just hallucinating

"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands

fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time

"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"

YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her

hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work

oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you

the twins's made up language

there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point

hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose

#i'll make more of these later #i'm just very bored and i love rtte #race to the edge #rtte #how to train your dragon #httyd #httyd rtte #toothless #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #astrid hofferson #snotlout jorgenson #fishlegs ingerman #dagur the deranged #tuffnut thorston #ruffnut thorston #heather the unhinged #avis' post

[warren-keplers-funk-band]

season two so far has really been feeding into my poly-crew delusions

izzy deserves love too, damnit

#anyway the crew's love language is physical touch #and izzy is a deranged touch-starved sad little man #soooo #1 + 1 = 2 as far as i can see #ofmd #izzy hands #ofmd fang #ofmd frenchie #our flag mean death #izzy hands fanart #ofmd fanart #dan's art