#mira kano fanfiction

[kaicubus]

Minor Indulgences | Kano Mira

warnings ✩° : smut, superiority kink, over stimulation, fem oral!receiving, fem fingering!receiving, praise, sadism, loss of virginity!reader, food imagery used to describe certain parts, use of the nickname darling.

pairing ✩° : kano mira x fem!reader

premise ✩° : as her faithful and loyal right hand, mira suggests she rewards you with a picnic complete with small little treats and cakes. she loves the taste of each and every single one of them, including her most precious indulgence.

word count ✩° : 4.2k

authors note ✩° : blinks very slowly...

As the Queen of Hearts’ right hand assistant, you've been with Mira Kano for the entirety of your time in the Borderlands. At first, a ruthless mastermind was all she was to you, but over time it became increasingly easier to see that she truly was perfect in anyway. She was pure insanity and pure righteousness, and you admired every aspect of her.

“You called for me, your majesty?” You say meekly, holding your arms close to your chest and standing tall beside her. At a specific hour of every day, you look forward to seeing Mira outside in her rose garden, each flower and bud delicately cared for by you, as she nibbles on light confectioneries and sips from meticulously steeped red rose petals—the same ones you had grown. Mira savors her time there and no one is allowed to even step foot in her sacred garden without her approval, so it came as a surprise to you that she called for you specifically.

You don't like to brag, but both you and the few other assistants knew that without you, the Red Queen would lose her head. She enjoyed the calculated schedule you prepared for her every day, especially her garden tea times because that's when she would be able to truly relax.

Despite being called and arriving earlier to avoid her majesty's wrath, Mira doesn't look your way until she takes a sip from her tea. Carefully, you watch her rose tinted lips press against the fine porcelain, not even bothering to blow on the piping hot liquid as it fills her throat smoothly.

“Y/n.” Mira says finally, after putting down the teacup, “There you are.”

You nod, tightly adjusting the white button up uniform Mira makes all of her staff wear, “You still have an hour left to enjoy your tea, your majesty. Is the brew too cold? I could make a fresh pot if that’s what her majesty wants.”

Mira raises her perfectly gloved hand to you, signaling for you to stop talking. You obey quickly and bow your head.

“Y/n. Do you know why I’ve asked you to come to me in the middle of my time in my wonderful garden?” Mira grins, “The tea is perfect as always, and so are the desserts. Have you ever taken pity on me for doing all of this, alone?”

You lift your head and shake in disagreement, “No, your majesty. Never.”

“Well,” She coos, “I take pity on myself. All of this, and no one to share it with. Which is why I want you to join me.” Mira takes her pinky and swipes it along the surface of one of the small strawberry shortcakes on the confectionery display to the left of her. The icing kisses the thin, velvet material that squeezes her fingers taught and you watch as she slowly glides the gentle whipped sweetness on her tongue.

“You should try some.” Mira leans forward eagerly with her thin, ebony eyebrows raised, licking her lips clean, “It’s just how I like it.”

“Oh! Oh no I couldn't possibly! Your majesty this is your time, I wouldn't even think of intruding.”

“It is everything but an intrusion, Y/n.” Mira tugs off her glove and rests it next to her, revealing her pale fingers as well as her red nail polished manicure. She must've gotten them done a few days ago given the pristine state of them. There were many occasions in the past where you've stayed awake dreaming of the day Mira would ever think about touching you with her hands, tapping your face with her palms and placing her mouth on yours. Such dreams remained in your head, however, because surely, the time would never come.

It was like she saw right through you when she extends her bare hand to you, curling her finger and beckoning you forward.

“I-I do apologize, but I can’t, your majesty.” You sheepishly grab the end of your tucked shirt, accidentally making your appearance less than perfect, “A-Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

She cuts your apology short with a small laugh, tilting her head on her hand elegantly, “My, you truly are a delight, aren't you darling? Come, sit down, I think our time together has been long overdue.”

She looks at you unexpectedly, eyes risen into perfectly equal slits. Not daring to waste her time, you nod and take a seat on the elegantly ivory wired chair, making sure to smooth your charcoal colored pencil skirt flat. You clear your throat and adjust your hair, meeting her empty stare with a nervous smile. 

“Here, try this first.” Mira says. In her hands, a miniature fruit tart presents itself to you. The fruit, as prepared by the chef, looks appetizing but not appetizing enough to graciously accept Mira’s offer without hesitating. “Go on, take it.” She beckons again, nodding her head and lowering her hand down to appear more friendly in hopes you take the pastry out of her possession.

“Y-Yes, your majesty.”

With that, Mira smiles and leans forward, studying each and every one of your features, making sure no trait of yours gets left upturned by her stare. You can’t help but feel exposed.

“Tell me, Y/n, what’s something you've always wanted to do in the Borderlands?” She questions deeply, creeping her fingers towards the edge of the plate in front of you. As you continue to chew as quickly as you can, she speaks once more, “Something you never thought could happen. What is that?”

Swallowing, you wipe your mouth, “Such a question...I have to ask your majesty, what for?”

“From now on, I want you to call me by my name. Mira.” She drops her jaw to pronounce it, “Mi-ra. I am still your majesty, but I want you and you only to call me by my name.” Her fingertips dance along her cheekbone, “But, I want to know you more. After all, I’ve always found you very interesting and skilled at what you do.”

“Very well, your majesty—I-I mean, Mira.”

“I feel like after all this time, we don’t know each other that well. Tell me about yourself. What do you do when you aren’t around me?”

“Well, personally all I do is look after you, your ma—Mira. There isn't a job in the Borderlands that I’d rather do.” You smile sweetly at your boss, “As for something I’ve thought of, I can’t recall.”

Her pouted lips become a signature characteristic of her dissatisfaction towards your answer, “Seriously? Nothing?”

Shaking your head, you lie once more, “I’m afraid not.” You reach your hand out to take a sip from the already filled tea cup next to you, happily wondering what exactly the Queen of Hearts’ tea tasted like. You could've sampled from the head chef, but in this moment you're convinced the tea would taste a thousand times better than it ever would.

There was no doubt that Mira was an elegant figure and as her assistant, a part of you wanted to match her elegance in the form of sipping from her special brew.

As you become lost in the flavor of the swirling notes of delicate fragrant blossoms and a sweet vanilla aftertaste, Mira becomes lost in your posture, your stance, your expression. Almost like she’s pleased with how much you're enjoying being with her, Mira leans forward to indulge in a bit of fun.

Taking another long sip, that’s when you hear a hollow knock below the table and feel a familiar, nylon material stroke itself against the side of your calf ever so slightly shortly after. You blink, fluttering your eyelids in a moment of shock as the feeling isn't anything like you've felt before. It’s cold, stiff, but weirdly flexible, and it keeps rubbing against you like it’s waiting, practically looking forward to your reaction. Putting two and two together, after looking at Mira’s sly grin, you start to choke on your tea.

You both stare at each other as the force of your cough splatters the red tinted liquid from your mouth straight to your top, staining the already thin, white material and soaking it so that it translucently sticks to your skin. As expected, Mira smiles and lifts her chin happily.

“Ah. Be careful.” She chuckles mystically, “It’s very hot, darling.”

At this point, the temperature was the least of your worries. After all, no matter how shy and meek you present yourself around Mira, you're her right hand for a reason. Your body has been trained to withstand anything that could ever want to harm you. But, did Mira really just flirt with you just now? The look on her face is unmistakable : there was something you had that she wanted. But what?

Mira rolls her bare shoulders back some more as she stares at your blouse, still laughing at the mess you've made because of her, “Oh Y/n, I didn't expect you to be so messy. Here, let me help you.”

You watch helplessly as Mira presses herself into the edge of the table, pushing herself towards you with a napkin in hand. Practically paralyzed and immobile you become at the touch of her slowly blotting against your chest. With only a few careless wipes, Mira leans back and kisses her teeth, “No, no that simply won’t do.”

You quickly stand, “I-I’ll go change! It’s no problem, I’ll be right back!”

“No.” Her voice goes dark, “Stay put.”

The abrupt change in her once lighthearted voice stops you in your tracks and you're forced to look at her as she stands up as well. Too scared to say anything, you just watch as Mira sways her hips towards you, soon facing you directly. A heat quickly flies to your face once it settles in that Mira was not only looking at you, but into you.

“It’s true that I don’t want you to leave. Not yet.” She says, “But, surely it’s a waste to waste such delicious tea. I’ll help you get undressed, come.”

Undressed?

Your body responds first, completely compliant to your Queen’s orders as you step, now in front of her. She smiles pleasantly and curls her arm onto your waist, manually hoisting you into her presence. With a quick, ‘tch’ Mira’s hands slowly slither their way to your torso, finding their place directly on top of your chest, toying with the small buttons between her fingers.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. You count in your head to try and distract yourself from the fact this was all happening right now. Your buttons fly off with just a few flicks of Mira’s wrist and by the end of it, she’s left admiring the bareness of your top without any filter whatsoever.

“Mira,” you sigh breathlessly, “I can do this all myself, you don’t have to—”

Just then, the hand that once held your shirt open freely rips it open to fully expose your chest, letting the fabric fall from your shoulders down to your waist. She must've not liked what you had to say. Suddenly, before you can protest her sudden act, her hands cup your breasts and gingerly push them up so that your skin flawlessly meets her lips.

You gasp out, mouth gaping open in genuine shock as you buck your hips forward in reflex. Mira on the other hand, relentlessly continues licking bold stripes slowly into your skin almost as if with every lick she tastes, the more close she feels to you. You look down with eyes watery from her intrusion and heightened embarrassment and notice red. Red from her lipstick slathered on her lips with the upmost care, all over you.

“Hngh! Mira! What are you doing?!” You cry out, trying to move her head away from you, but you're too weak, “Ngh!”

You can feel the warmth of her tongue slowly glide across the bottom of your collarbone, just above your breast, spreading her saliva all across your skin as she slurps up what’s left of the tea. You’re unable to hold back, not even your hands guarding your mouth can prevent your small whimpers from being heard by the woman in front of you.

Very soon it becomes clear that you had never done anything sexual of the sort with anybody before. The realization quirks Mira’s mouth into a sadistic, curious grin as she plucks her lips away from you for just a second. “My my, darling! Could it be that you've never done anything like this before? That can’t be. Are you a virgin..?”

Embarrassment surges to your cheeks in the form of a dark, pink hue and you quickly start to tremble, “N-No!” you lie, in hopes that would please her, “I-I’m...somewhat experienced. But still! There’s napkins and cloths! Why would you??”

She ignores your panicked thoughts, “My darling, no one would ever get so nervous so quickly from this if they've had sex before. Am I making you nervous, darling?” She hisses against your ear, parting her lips with the tip of her tongue as she leans close enough for your senses to get overwhelmed by her suffocating, regal scent. “If there’s any chance I’m right, there’s really no use in lying, Y/n. I’ll happily be your first and your only, would you like that? Because I know I would love it.”

She was oh so right. At least with her, you could trust she would take care of you and have all her attention on you. A part of you liked that idea.

You bring your attention back to the woman in front of you, knowing you aren't going to reject her offer in any means. She grins, reading your mind, “Let me take care of you. Your body is so soaked already, what a bother. All the tea’s spilled over your shirt...your bra...even down here...” Before her hands can reach past your shirt, you hold her wrist gently and look at her with glossy eyes.

“M-Mira, wait a second!” Rather than continuing, Mira looks up at you and her fingers stop directly in between your legs, awaiting your next words. “Don’t you think...it feels wrong doing something like this out in the open? Shouldn't we go inside first?”

“Oh you poor dear. You've forgotten, no one else is up here but you and me. Not even a camera or two. Unfortunately.” She winks, playfully peaking her tongue out from her lips, “Besides, if anyone does show up, I’ll have their head.” No doubt about it. You swallow thickly and nod, earning a smile from your queen as she dips her hand back to it’s rightful spot.

Within a few seconds, Mira has you with your back pressed against the back of the chair, hands wedged tight in between your thighs, massaging your growing slick just in your skirt. There’s no telling how many times she’s done this before, or how many times she’s imagined this exact scenario on repeat in her head but judging off of how easily she unravels you, it’s impossible not to think about it.

Mira takes several long pauses to gaze at your expression, taking the time to savor each pretty whimper and each suppressed moan. She can’t help but bite her lip in response, “Ah, does that feel good my love?”

“Yes!” You let out, embarrassingly quick, but you can’t find the need to care. She’s already seen you at your most vulnerable, or so you think. The sweat from your forehead glides down to your cheeks and you feel a rolling, rushing sensation start to build in your abdomen. You feel how her fingers, from gently caressing your clothed entrance to vigorously rubbing in fluid motions, dip in and side to side, only earning more mewls of sheer pleasure from you. It’s only a matter of time before Mira has enough and kicks the chair from behind you, under you and pushes you onto it.

Shocked that she changes your position so quick, you go to speak, only to be quickly silenced by your majesty’s lips capturing yours. Her generous tongue slips into your mouth and begins to swipe over your tongue, leaving no trace of any tea of dessert left, instead only her own lustful taste. It burns like no other.

You desperately thrust forward into her hand, silently giving her the go ahead to continue what ever she has planned, wishing and only yearning for the thing you’ve always dreamed of. And Mira eagerly does so.

Using her unoccupied hand to nearly tear your skirt off you, Mira slides her gloved hand slowly into your panties, moving the fabric from her most precious treat of all. Before you know it, you feel her slender fingers poke and prod at your entrance, swirling your overflowing wetness over your clit and on the outside of your pussy, making sure to give attention to all of you. You let out an uncontrolled moan when her fingers easily glide into you, not afraid anymore.

“Does that feel nice?” Mira coos when she rips away from your mouth, panting hot air onto your swollen lips, “Do you like when I touch you here, darling?” You watch as her body moves in ripples, practically pleasuring herself at the sight of your fucked out expression, desperate for you to tell her how she makes you feel so she can relieve herself already. And who are you to deprive her of that?

You lean your head back and whine, “Mira you're making me feel so good. Please, don't stop, don't ever stop.”

You watch as Mira stares into your eyes, hungry—no, starved—for your taste on her tongue. She can barely contain herself, but she manages to do so for just a little longer. With an evil grin, she pulls her fingers out of you and opens her mouth, showing off her tongue and sliding your arousal onto the middle of it. “Sweeter than any dessert.” She says to herself, “I need more, more!”

Resting your ankles on her shoulders, you hear as her breath hitches in an attempt to swallow her excitement as if she’s telling herself not to have too much fun. But the thrill is too opaque to ignore, better than any game between life or death ever.

“So this is what you look like, darling?” Mira speaks slow and tauntingly, refusing to remove her eyes from your glistening cunt, “You truly are as beautiful as I ever wanted you to be. Does this hurt? You’re so wet for me, I find it hard that it feels comfortable right now. I can fix it though.” She hooks her fingers on each side of your inner thighs, spreading your legs open just enough to expose your arousal.

“I can’t help it.” You choke back, swallowing the excess saliva practically pooling inside your mouth, “When you look at me in this way...I can’t help it...”

“Well, youre my favoirte after all. How can I not look at you?” Her sweet words trickle between your thighs like some sort of forbidden honey, only indulging in your ever flowing sweetness seeping between your legs.

You throw your head back, rolling your neck onto your shoulder to try and get a better look at the woman in front of you, only showing your vulnerability towards her.

“Mhm...that’s it. Good girl, darling. I can’t wait to see how you taste.” She tilts her head slowly and dips her face just centimeters from your pussy, fanning her breath over your wetness. You shudder at the shrill coldness of your most sensitive part. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

You nod eagerly, but not too eagerly, knowing how much Mira despises having her fun spoiled. But how could you stay calm? The most feared mastermind of the Borderlands, your mastermind, is so close to you—closer than you'd ever imagined or dreamed for her to be. Everything about her is perfect, even up close and spread on the ground. From where you’re sitting, her lashes look as long and full as ever and her perfect, pristine skin shines even in the shadows of your legs. She’s regal. Absolutely perfect.

Before you can get lost in your own thoughts, Mira doesn't bother wasting any time as the pink tongue of hers quickly buries itself into your pussy, her lips pressing a kiss onto your entrance, humming vibrations in between your thighs from a long awaited daydream come to life. Letting out a low moan, your hips buck down into her mouth, unintentionally causing the tip of her pale nose to nudge against the hood of your painfully swollen clit. With a few more kisses, you can feel the way her cupids bow mashes against your folds and her tongue, gently splitting you open to taste more of you.

You whimper, slowly succumbing to the growing fire in your now shaking limbs. You can feel all the pent up pleasure burning at every edge in your body like a moth to a flame. “It’s so sensitive right here.” Mira whispers deeply and pushes her tongue back into your pussy, “Do you like it when I lick you right here? It’s so sweet, I can’t control myself.” Her words throw you for another loop, nails digging deep into the plushness of your own thighs, grinding against her. Pleasure runs its course through your body, convulsing and thrusting your hips in short spurts but she proceeds to lick stripes and circles, flicking her tongue side to side and making lewd, sloppy noises into your cunt.

Once the pleasure becomes too much, you let her name carelessly fall from your lips, “M-Mira wait!” No matter how many times you tell her, or would tell her to stop, Mira could care less and continues. All she wants is to make you hers. Her intensity milks your cries from your raw throat, unable to fathom the speed at which her tongue and fingers work together to chase every writhing spasm from your body. She pushes you into more and more until you're on the edge of your seat, gripping onto her matte charcoal hair, silently wishing she would slow down or give you a break. Your actions cause her to move directly up to the top of your pussy, a place where she didn't want to be just yet.

Annoyed at your sudden movement of her place, Mira moves back down easily with a firm grip on your buckled knees and hoists you up so your ass shifts back further onto the chair. “Don’t move.” Her voice darkens as she takes a breath of air, “Stay still for me, ok?” As she speaks, the rest of the world around you becomes a hazy blur. Within seconds, you forget you're even still in the garden, sunlight still shining through the lattice and glass above like any normal day, despite it being not normal in the slightest.

Your apologies fall out in a way you were too ashamed to admit, “M’sorry! M’so so sorry! Your majesty I—HNGH!”

She wanted to grab you at that point, anger taking control when she grits her teeth, “Mira. Say it again.”

“Mira!” you scream, “Mira Mira Mira!!”

“That’s good.” She looks back down at your stomach, and continues at the same intensity and pressure as before. Running the tip of her tongue up and down your folds, she gathers your slick in long strides, greedily stealing all of your arousal. Slow and steady, you can tell how much experience Mira has or at least fronts to have, but you’d at least hope that she knew by the throbbing of your needy clit that she would slow down and save you from the growing embarrassment of cumming too quickly. Just by looking at her alone, there were multiple occasions where you would end the day with a growing wetness between your thighs and a fuzzy mind. Now, there was no escaping that, or the fact that Mira seemingly knew every button to press even you didn't know.

The familiar feeling returns and very quickly you begin to squeeze your eyes shut, the bleakness of nothingness greeting you but the feeling of Mira’s hot tongue licking its way into you, not disappearing like you thought it would. With her voice in the background, happily humming, and your loud and messy cries, you chase your release and whine out desperately, locking your legs around the back of her neck trying to ground her into you as you cum. To your surprise, she doesn't mind at all.

Riding out your orgasm, Mira holds you tightly and squeezes your sides gently, looking up at you through her lashes and staring at you with her dark, hooded eyes. Within a few writhing seconds of twitching and trembling, Mira laps up your juices and scoots back just enough to look at you as a whole. As you're panting for air, trying to fill the lack thereof in your chest, Mira grins and raises her hand to her mouth, pressing down on her glistening lips as she giggles, “Did I make you feel good, darling? You’re so cute and you taste so sweet.” She leans forward and rubs your ankle.

You can’t help but bite your lip, still trembling as you respond, “U-Uh huh...Y-Yes. F’eels so good Mira...”

She laughs again, lifting herself from the ground and tucking her hair behind her ear to show her face, “Why don’t we get back inside, Y/n? I’m sure we’re well behind schedule. But, it looks like you need some time to recover.”

And she doesn’t? You swallow and nod your head, losing your grip on the chair to get up as well, ending up slipping and plopping right back down. “U-Uhm...Sorry Mira I—”

She shakes her head dismissively, “Don’t. Let me help you.” Mira holds out a hand to you and you accept it gently.

“Thank you, Mira.” Your voice is small, but still managing to stand up as Mira guides you with a soft hold on your elbows. Just as you stand up next to her, she presses a reassuring kiss onto your cheek and looks at you with a still, spine chilling grin, but now it seems to have a double meaning. You didn’t care what it meant.

“Let’s make this a part of my schedule, yes? We need to catch up for as long as we’ve known each other, right darling?”

#alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader #mira kano alice in borderland #mira kano #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #alice in borderland smut #mira alice in borderland #alice in borderland fic #aib fic #mira kano x reader #mira kano x y/n #mira kano x you #mira kano smut #mira kano fanfiction #mira kano fanfic #mira kano imagine #smut fanfiction #wlw smut #kano mira #mira x reader #aib mira #kano mira x reader #riisa naka #naka riisa #kaicubus

[daddycassie]

Dark Beach

(Mira Kano x GN!reader)

Grey waves crash on a dark shore, as I watch from the balcony.

The breeze is chilly, the water must be freezing.

But I think the resort is prettier this time of year.

Nobody but me and her.

The moment I think, she’s there with me her hair dark as the rest of the moonlit night’s landscape.

Her eyes wide and her smile knowing, she lays her head on my arm, and I hold her in the cold of night.

——————————

Note; Is this a love poem to Mira? Whaaat noooo

((Maybe))

#Mira Kano #aib x reader #aib fanfiction #aib the queen of hearts #omg i love her so much #i want her #shes so pretty #Mira Kano x reader #Mira Kano fanfiction #Poems #love poem

[eletricheart]

Masterlist

part 1

ps: all my stories are x reader

1. Alice in Borderland

Mira Kano

Queen of a Heart + Where the skies are blue

5 ways of love

karma is a relaxing thought

evermore

Wonderland

holy ground

if not for you

mastermind

incorrect quotes: p.1

2. The Vampire Diaries

Katherine Pierce

the Salvatores

born to die

is it a deal?

right where you left me

1. my posting dates are a mess tbh, dont know when or who i'll post about

2. i accept requests but if they're from different characters and idk them, i'll ask you to give a me a few details so it gets better😭

3. i do not write smuts

#alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader #mira kano x reader #mira kano #aib mira #aib x reader #the vampire diaries #tvd fic #tvd fanfiction #tvd katherine #katherine from tvd #katherine petrova #katherine pierce x reader #katherine pierce

[mashas-rotting]

Should I write a mira/chishiya/reader threesome? I'm thinking I should.

#reader insert #alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #fanfiction #mira kano #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #shuntaro chishiya #smut

[azih3arts]

Fanart dump

Couldn’t choose if i wanted to draw him when he was in the beach or when he was in the jack of hearts💀 just added the black clothing under the jacket and the collar didn’t change anything else not gonna lie

#fanart #aib #alice in the bordeland fanfiction #aib chishiya #shunataro chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #aib tatta #tatta kodai #tatta alice in borderland #mira kano #drawing #digital art #digital drawing

[katwritesthegay]

Chapter three of my Donna Beneviento x Reader fic (told completely from Donna's POV) is out. <3Link here.

"I suppose that should make me glad—that I am so adept at bringing ruin and despair wherever I go—but it is cold comfort indeed. " - Invasive Species, Chapter 3 Thank you to everyone for your support. I adore our little corner of the fandom and our favorite dollmaker. <3

(I also have a Mira Kano x Reader [Alice in Borderland] fanfiction in the works, so if that appeals to you- then keep your eyes peeled for that <3 )

#donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento fanfic #donna beneviento #re: village #resident evil village

[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

Author’s notes: It's 2 am and I've been furiously typing this away while chugging some coffee, so please excuse the errors if you find some. It's already February 14 where I am, so Happy Valentine's Day, have some filth.

VII

desire, I'm hungry / I hope you feed me / how do you want me, how do you want me?

Yamane had all the opportunities to examine her nebulous, twisted feelings for the tattooed militant; she just never took them. She avoided confronting the feeling. Now, a Heart game of all things is forcing her to face the ugly truth.

Or perhaps, she should have expected it from a Heart game. She experienced firsthand how terrible they can be, after all.

Yamane never really told anyone about what she felt about Last Boss. There are rumors circulating in the Beach about trysts between them because of her little visits after games, but neither gave away any substantial hints. The only way for anyone to know about Yamane’s feelings was if they heard her moan his name in one of the nights that she spent pleasuring herself.

It’s also suspicious that their fellow players are either couples or people who have feelings for each other. Whoever designed these games knew the players intimately.

They’re all being watched.

And now, these people wanted to watch how they would act in a scenario that involves possibly hurting the person they desired the most.

Yamane locks eyes with Last Boss, and she can't read him at all. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t fight against the restraints. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for her to make a move, or just waiting for her time to run out.

“Two minutes remaining.”

At the warning, Yamane stops pondering about the nature of the game, and starts panicking.

She had considered taking the gun and shooting him somewhere that won’t kill him, but she doesn’t really know how to use firearms properly. Shooting him in the arm would run the risk of shooting him in the chest, and shooting him in the leg would doom him in future games. Either way, he might end up dead.

Yamane said she would kill to survive, but can she kill him? She’d be lying to herself if she said that she didn’t get attached. This newfound hesitation is precisely the reason why she used to play the games alone.

“Of all people to get attached to,” she thinks. “Why you?”

Desperate, Yamane pulls at her hair and screams, despair overtaking her.

Finally, Last Boss says something.

“Yamaneko.”

Yamane turns to him, her eyes wet with tears and her eyeliner running down her cheeks.

“Whether it’s you or me, when all is done, we’ll simply return to the soil. I’m thankful for this world. You should be too.”

Wiping the tears that blurs her vision, Yamane regards him for a moment. Last Boss continues to surprise her with every interaction; she never expected such wisdom from him. Perhaps this outlook is what made him a powerful player in the Beach.

Last Boss will live his life in the borderland to the fullest, literally carving his path away, until his time runs out.

But Yamane wants to be a part of that, and it’s too early for it to end now.

“No. Wait. I can figure this out,” she sniffles, fingers tangling through her hair.

He doesn’t say anything else to her.

Yamane strains herself to think. In her last Heart game, the rules were written in such a way to make players believe that they will have to spill blood by killing someone, when medical implements around them would suggest that players only needed to spill a portion of their blood. She looks to the X-cross for clues, but fails to find any hints.

Her eyes flick to the gun in front of her, and she grabs it. There must be something about the gun she can figure out. She runs her thumb against the arrow engraved on the side, and her mind wanders back to the time she and Mai went to an archery range. The instructor scolded her for pulling the bow when it’s not loaded.

At the memory, everything in Yamane’s head clicks into place.

Yamane aims the gun upwards, and unloads all of the bullets to the ceiling.

The sobbing girls look at her in surprise, then Yamane points the gun to Last Boss. Unsure if her plan would work, Yamane spills everything that’s in her heart.

“Last Boss, I’ve only known you for a little while, and truth be told, I was terrified of you when you and Niragi came to my apartment. I expected the two of you to rape or kill me on that day, but you two brought me someplace where I can thrive. There is nothing expected of me here except for playing the games. I am free to be who I am without repercussions from society.”

The tattooed militant’s eyes flick towards her, interest piqued.

“One minute remaining.”

“There’s nothing waiting for me in the real world. My family and friends all turned their backs on me. As fucked up as it sounds, when I’m in the Beach, when I’m with you, I feel like I finally belong somewhere. In this new world, I felt accepted for the first time. My new life has only just begun. So please, I don’t want this to be the end for either of us. I don’t want my time with you to run out yet.”

Now, Last Boss is giving her his full attention.

“Thirty seconds remaining.”

“I’ve come to appreciate you. I- I prefer your presence to Niragi’s too. When you entertained my request to instruct me on how to kill someone painlessly, you didn’t think twice before sharing what you knew. You were tracing the vulnerable points of my body, and your touch felt too damn good. When you came behind me to guide me, I wanted more of your touch. You’re in my head when I- I...”

Yamane begins to stutter.

“Ten seconds remaining.”

She’s saying too much.

“What I want to say is I want you! So please, accept my feelings!”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Yamane pulls the trigger, and waits for the end.

Just in case a laser comes firing at her skull if the plan didn’t work, at least she’d die with no unfinished business.

But the laser never came.

“Game Clear. Congratulations!”

The restraints on the X-cross release, and Rina runs over to catch Hiro’s body before it hits the ground, sobbing and hiccupping the entire time. Last Boss lands on his feet, and he rubs his wrists as he looks at Yamane’s disbelieving expression. The girl that Daisuke was kissing in the backseat barges towards Yamane and slapped her hard enough for her to tumble backwards.

“Why?! Why couldn’t you have told Daisuke the solution? Now he’s dead!”

Yamane, still in shock, could only laugh at the girl’s face, still surprised that her plan worked. The girl raises her hand again, but long, thin fingers grab her arm. Last Boss tears her away from his fellow militant, and drives his sword through her heart.

Rina screams, still holding on to Hiro’s dead body, and the girl’s body slumps to the ground.

Panting, Yamane looks to Last Boss, who sheaths his sword, then to the girl he just killed. She felt nothing. Legs shaking, she tries to walk, but her knees fail her. To her surprise, Last Boss grabs her, not letting her fall.

“Let’s get out of here,” Yamane whispers, and they turn around to leave.

But before they can walk out of the room, Rina calls out to them.

“Wait,” she cries, voice trembling. “How- how did you figure out the solution?”

Yamane looks at her, heart heavy as she watches her cradle the dead boy, then looks away. “I figured that the game is made specially for people who either have sexual or romantic tension, or are already together. Whoever came up with this game wanted to see the dilemma of whether one would shoot the other to survive, or sacrifice themselves for the person they desired. The rules didn’t say anything about firing the gun while it’s loaded, though. Heart games tend to have loopholes you can abuse, if you think hard enough,” she explains, unable to look at the grieving girl as she did.

Rina sniffles. “All this time, I could’ve avoided killing Hiro? Oh, God, what have I done? I killed him...”

“Heart games have a way of doing that to you, kid. I was lucky enough to play with someone who knew how to handle them a while back. I’m sorry.”

When Rina didn’t respond and buried her face in Hiro’s neck to grieve, Yamane turned to Last Boss once again. “Let’s leave her to grieve. We need to get back.”

Her fellow militant nodded, and wordlessly followed her out. The circular white table with a Nine of Hearts card is waiting for them outside, and Yamane tucks it away in her jacket. She was more than ready to leave this place, but one hand pulls at her forearm, spinning her around, and another grabs her other arm, pinning her against the wall.

The tattooed militant is looking at her with intensity that punched the air out of her lungs, just like the first time she made eye contact with him during their first game together.

“All those things you said, are they true?” he asks her. He gives her a pleading look, one that is searching her for answers.

Yamane nods. “I wouldn’t be alive if I was lying.”

Pausing, her eyes flick towards Last Boss’ lips, and she gulps. “Please, just kiss me already,” she whispers, looking him in the eye.

Trembling lips that are too soft for a man so rough claimed hers, and Yamane’s eyes fluttered shut, sinking into the kiss.

Soon, the kiss became more desperate. Yamane slips her tongue in his mouth, and he lets out an involuntary groan, hips bucking into her as they shared the sloppy kiss. She rakes her fingers down his back, through the fabric of his hoodie, and it only spurred him on.

He tears away for air, and looks at her with wide, hungry eyes, like a tiger’s. Yamane only needed one look at his flushed face to know that this was his first one, and he wanted more. She didn’t dare to say anything that will embarrass him, though.

“Takatora,” he mumbles, still pressed against her.

“Huh?”

“My name is Takatora. Use it when it’s just the two of us,” he says to her, voice low. Yamane nods, and she kisses him again. Under her bikini top, her nipples are starting to pebble, and the fire in her loins is almost unbearable.

As they break the kiss, Yamane breathlessly sighs his name. “Takatora. Heh. How befitting. I always thought you looked like a tiger.”

His shaking hands clamp over the globes of her behind, and he grinds against her, his movements inexperienced but still arousing, nonetheless.

Then, Yamane hears movement from the room where the game took place.

“Let’s continue this at the Beach,” she whispers, and she grabs Takatora by the hand, leading him outside the hotel. He gets in the passenger’s seat, while Yamane drives. On the way back, his hand is on her pale thigh the entire time, squeezing and kneading like a damn cat. The wildcat’s heart is racing, driving like a madwoman so they can get to her bed sooner.

Upon arrival, they converge with their fellow militants at the entrance. The survivors of the games go to the Hatter’s meeting room and turn in their cards one by one. All this time, people were staring at the two of them. Yamane realizes too late that her lipstick has stained Last Boss’ mouth. Fortunately, no one said anything about it.

Until Niragi arrived, that is.

“What the hell is that on you?” he asks, coming in for a closer inspection. Yamane leans over to look at Niragi, her eyeliner running down her face and her lipstick smeared.

Niragi puts two and two together and gives them a wicked grin. “So you made a move after all,” he says to Last Boss, and slaps his back.

As Niragi strolls away, Yamane gives Last Boss a questioning look.

“I told him to stay away from you,” he droned, and Yamane’s eyebrows perk up in surprise.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted you to myself,” the taller militant replies, turning to look at her.

Before Yamane could say anything else, it was their turn to surrender their card. Yamane holds up the Nine of Hearts, and the collector’s eyes widen, while his buddy comes running to the Hatter.

Soon, Hatter joins the fray, and when he sees the value of the card Yamane and Last Boss had on them, he breaks out into a grin, taking it from Yamane’s little fingers and holding it up. “A Nine of Hearts!” he exclaims, walking around the room. As onlookers are whispering amongst themselves, Aguni steps closer to see what the excitement was about.

Hatter turns to the militia’s chief, and breaks out into a laugh. “Aguni, I didn’t expect your people to bring me a high-value Heart card, of all things.”

The Beach’s number one then turns to the two militants, a mad glint in his eye. “You two, thank you, thank you! I’ll move your ranks higher as my show of gratitude.”

One of the executives stepped closer, a woman with straight bangs and long hair. “My my, one of these days you two will have to tell me how you cleared such a game,” she comments, eyeing the card with a wide grin. It’s Mira Kano, resident number seven. Heart specialist.

“Yamane, isn’t it? First you cleared a Five of Hearts with your fellow militants without casualties to the Beach, and now you survived a Nine with him. I’m surprised that someone from the militant sect has the makings of a Heart specialist. I won’t forget this,” she croons.

The interaction left Yamane stunned. Her? A Heart specialist. No. If anything, she’s a Spade player. “Sunohara was there to calm everyone down in the Five, and I just got lucky with the Nine.”

As the excitement dies down, Niragi walks over to the pair once more. “So, what did you two do to win the game?”

“I had to confess to whom I found the most desirable and then shoot ‘em,” Yamane replies. Last Boss is looking at his fellow militant with a neutral expression, not bothering to wipe off the lipstick stain off of his face. “Turns out, shooting while the gun isn’t loaded is an option. Two players died because one of them chickened out, and the other shot her crush.”

“So, you’ve got a crush on Last Boss?” Niragi is doing everything he could to make Yamane uncomfortable, and she knows it.

“Actually, yes, I fucking do,” Yamane replies, looking at Niragi with confidence. “I asked him to kiss me after the game,” she hisses. “Oh, and I thought of him while you fucked me,” she adds partially to bruise his inflated ego, and partially because it’s true. “Do you have a problem with that?”

At Yamane’s admission, Niragi laughs at her face. “I fucking knew it. I was tired of you anyway. Have fun with him, Yamaneko.”

Blood boiling as he walked away, Yamane had considered going after him, but Takatora placed a hand on her good shoulder and pulled her closer to him. “That’s just how Niragi is. Let him go. Let’s continue where we left off,” he whispers.

With a cheeky smirk on her lips, Yamane shows her agreement by holding his hand and leading him out the door. They get in the elevator, and as soon as the doors are closed, their hands are all over each other’s bodies.

Small hand trailing down his torso, Yamane palms at his cock, earning her a nip on her lower lip, and he kisses her in a frenzy as she pumps him through his pants. “Suck my tits,” Yamane hisses. His lean arms held her close to him, shaky fingers clawing at her back and undoing the string of her bikini top. Takatora pushes her against the wall, hands grabbing her breasts, and he latches on one of her nipples, tongue eagerly lapping the hardened bud.

Yamane moans, and the elevator door opens, revealing two girls with surprised looks on their faces. The surprise turns into horror when they see the tattoos on Last Boss’ arms, and Yamane’s messy double buns, realizing who they just ran into.

“Are you two just going to stand there, or are you going to move?” Yamane questions them, not even bothering to ask Last Boss to stop. Not a single shred of shame is left in her body.

The girls jump out of the way, and Takatora wraps her legs around him, carrying her off.

“Which door?” he pants against her chest.

“Third one to the left!”

The door swings open, and Takatora kicks it shut as they enter the room. They crash into Yamane’s bed, both panting.

Spindly fingers pull at her bikini top, and Yamane sheds her jacket, tossing it aside. She moans his name as he fondled and sucked at her breasts again, back arching against the mattress. Takatora pauses to kiss her, and she takes this opportunity to flip him over, grinding against him. He looks at her with wide eyes, freezing at the loss of control.

“Relax,” she croons. “First time?”

He makes a small, reluctant nod. “Are you nervous?” she asks again.

He shakes his head. “I take you’re excited then?”

Takatora nods. Relieved, Yamane chuckles. “Then there’s no need for me to hold back.”

Takatora corrupted her by bringing her to the Beach. Now it’s her turn to corrupt him.

After watching the rise and fall of his chest, Yamane leans in and plants a gentle kiss on his eyelid as she pulls his tank top up, then presses her lips to the tattoos on his cheek. She presses another peck on one of his moles, trailing kisses down to his neck, and she hears him growl. Yamane smiles against his skin, lips tracing down his chest and abdomen. Deft fingers unbuckle his belt, and Yamane takes out his cock from its confines.

She swirls her tongue around the tip and Takatora groans, bracing himself against the mattress. After running her tongue from the base all the way to the tip, Yamane encloses her mouth around him, and his hands fly to her hair, both of them grasping her buns.

“Yamaneko,” he hisses, thrusting into her mouth.

Filthy noises fill the room as Yamane continues to suck him, enthusiastic with every bob of her head. The growls and groans he gave her spurred her on, relishing in the way she makes him feel. She ends it with a wet pop, and proceeds to stroke him with her hand while her tongue fondles his balls.

Takatora sounds feral now, grasping and pulling at Yamane’s hair, her buns coming undone. Yamane takes him in her mouth again, and she goes as far as her gag reflex would allow her. Niragi’s cock was thicker, but Takatora’s was longer, and she tried not to choke as she took him all in. She can feel that he’s close.

Hips bucking, it didn’t take long for him to come, and Yamane takes it all in, each spurt painting her tongue white. She sticks her tongue out to show him his load, and swallows every drop. Watching her, he gulps, Adam’s Apple bobbing.

The wildcat had expected the night to end there, content with making her partner come, but the tiger had other plans.

Takatora flips them over, now on top of her once more, and pulls away her skirt and panties. “I’ve read on the internet that women like it when men return the favor,” he mumbles, and dives right between her legs. Yamane gasps, palming at his head through his hoodie. “You’ve read good sources then,” she pants. His tongue made broad, sloppy strokes at her labia, and she squirms at his ministrations, legs in the air.

“There,” she moans, instructing him where to go. “Right at that nub- use a little less pressure- fuck, yes,” she hisses, throwing her head back at the feeling. “You’re a fast learner…”

Her tiger lover pauses, looking at her. “You too, Yamaneko.”

Then, he dives right back in, his saliva and her juices staining the sheets. Yamane encourages him in every step of the way, teaching him how to please her. As Takatora eats her out, he grinds his hips against the mattress, already hard again. Yamane notices it, and smiles.

“Tora,” she pants, and he smirks against her cunt upon hearing the affectionate nickname. “Do you want to fuck me?”

He nods enthusiastically, mouth still against her cunt.

“Fuck me then. Take me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. The tiger kneels, and with no hesitation, he plunges his cock in her dripping cunt.

Yamane screams, pleasure shooting up her spine. Takatora took her brutally, sharp hip bones slamming against the soft flesh of her thighs, leaving red marks as he went. One hand bracing the bed frame, Yamane’s other one reaches down between her legs, finger rubbing her clit furiously as he fucks her. Meanwhile, his hands palmed and squeezed at her breasts, and his growls and groans echoed in the room.

It didn’t take long for her to reach her limit.

“Tora, I’m going to come,” she cries, and he responded by grasping her hips and fucking her like the animal he is. A sharp cry escaped Yamane’s lips as she came, her walls milking his cock, white spots blinding her. Her fingers leave her clit, thoroughly sated, but Takatora isn’t done yet.

Her lover doesn’t stop pumping into her, and it’s becoming unbearable.

“Tora, oh God, it’s too much” she pants, palming at his chest, but he pays her no heed. He flips her over, pushes her head against the mattress, and clamps a hand around her mouth as he penetrated her again. His tongue drags against Yamane’s neck, and his lips planted rough kisses on the fragile skin. She screams against his palm as his wild, uncoordinated thrusts force another orgasm out of her.

“Fuck, is this really his first time?” the wildcat thinks to herself as she comes down from another high. She didn’t expect the night to go this well. From the ache between her legs, it’s almost going too well.

Thankfully, Takatora finally reached his limit as Yamane’s walls milked him again. Spilling his seed deep inside his wildcat’s womb, he bites her shoulder as he comes, hard enough for it to bruise the morning after.

Sweating, panting, he collapses on top of her.

“Mine,” he growls, scooping her into his arms. “Say that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

#alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #last boss x oc #takatora samura x oc #oc: minami yamane #fanfic: dormouse #last boss #takatora samura #suguru niragi #morizono aguni #takeru danma #hatter #mira kano #fanfiction #character study

[mashas-rotting]

Queen of hearts

This is a slow burn with Mira and the reader, timeline is sometime before arisu and usagi get to the beach. There will be heavy smut later. Possible threesome. Also if you want a list of the books Mira recommended lmk

Warnings: f/f, drinking, mentions of blood and choking cannon typical death.

Sitting in the back corner of the library reading was how you ended most nights. You didn't like being around people for long periods of time unless you were drunk, and even drunk the men were annoying. This was especially true since you were required to wear a bathing suit at all times and your body filled out a two piece in ways that made most people suspect you were a porn star in the real world. They were wrong though. Most of the inhabitants of the beach were uninteresting. Which is why you were here, sitting on a black leather chair with your legs curled up beside you.

"I wasn't expecting anyone to be here." You look up to see Mira brightly smiling at you. "Why aren't you drinking with everyone else?" She questions, tilting her head to the side. "I do sometimes, but they're all so boring. Predictable. Books are far more interesting." You reply setting your book down. "Exactly! The best way to learn about the human heart is to study all the different ones in books. I find that most authors write what they want to be and not who they are, but the best books are the honest ones. Filthy thoughts and actions decorating page after page." Mira shifts slightly as she says this as if it excites her. "I'd love some recommendations." You say smiling, taking note of her delicate body. Mira always wore a cover over her bathing suits but that did little to stop you from imagining what was under all of it when you saw her at the executive meetings. "Oh? That's right youre a hearts player too. How fun!" She claps her hands. "I'll bring some by your room later. I'll let you finish your book now. Sorry for interrupting." She waves and leaves.

Strange woman, that one. You couldn't deny your interest though. Mira is beautiful and twisted. And she would look beautiful twisted in your sheets. Sex and relationships were pointless in the borderlands though and you figured she wouldn't bother with those things when she played games almost every night. Not that you would risk something like that anyways.

Although, Mira seemed to be the only person besides you who actually enjoyed the games. Sure niragi had fun, but he had fun killing. That had nothing to do with the games themselves. Last boss enjoyed the freedom the borderlands offered, but still the games themselves offered him little joy.

The library was big, not huge, but you and a few others regularly went on trips to gather new books to add to the collection. Normally you liked having the room to yourself, but as you went back to reading to thought it would be nice to have Mira reading beside you. You decided to invite her next time you saw her.

When you went back to your room there was a white gift bag with one glittery red heart on the center of it sitting in front of your door.

The next day you woke up later than usual. Mira must have been busy because you couldn't seem to run into her. Which is why you found yourself at the bar drinking tequila shots by midnight and shutting down everyone who tried to join you. That is until Kuina came up to you.

"Those aren't water you know." She said with a hand on her hip. "They're not? Then why am I not drunk yet?" You reply with exaggerated frustration. "If you're trying to get drunk we should try a drinking game." She said raising an eyebrow in a challenge. "What did you have in mind?" You reply not minding the intrusion. You'd hung out with kuina before and, while she wasn't a hearts player, she wasn't the worst company. On the rare occasion you did go drinking she was normally you drinking buddy.

"Never have I ever?" She suggests. You burst out laughing. "Yaah that'll do it." You say grabbing a bottle of tequila and walking with her over to a couple couches where the music wasn't as loud. "Never have I ever spit." You start. "Does it count if it came out your nose?" Kuina says and you both giggle. "It's a drinking game so yes it counts." Kuina pores her shot and quickly downs it with a shiver. "Never have I ever had sex in public." She says. You take a shot then say "Who decided all the questions have to be about sex?" "God probably." Kuina replies as she takes another shot. "You didn't have to take that one ya know." You tell her. "Never have I ever kissed a girl." Someone says sitting on the couch on the opposite side of the coffee table.

"Oh I've done a lot more than kiss a girl," you say taking a shot and smiling at Mira who is holding her own bottle and sporting her usual unsettling smile. You find it appealing. Raw. Unhinged. "Never have I ever wanted to fuck an executive." Kuina says giving the two of you a knowing look. Both you and Mira smile at her, then Mira takes a shot straight from her bottle and then hands it to you. You keep eye contact as you take yours. "I didn't think you liked to drink?" kuina say to Mira. "I don't mind it, although I prefer wine. I just don't have much time to with all the games and such." She says moving her hands as she talks. "Never have I ever been in a fist fight pre-borderlands." You say. Both Kuina and Mira drink. "I don't think I can take much more of this. I'm going to dance." Kuina says as she clumsily stands and disappears into the crowded dance floor.

"Should we join her?" Mira asks but the way she says it sounds like shes asking something else. "Only if you're afraid to be alone with me." You challenge. Mira swings her legs over the coffee table and settles on the edge of it, her legs between your knees. "Not at all. Should I be?" her eyes flicker from yours to your lips. "might be more fun if you were." You breathe leaning forward slightly. "Then i think you should do something that frightens me" Mira says softly. A thousand images go through your mind. Your hand around her throat, blood running down her breast, welts on her bare ass, and that fucking smile on her face the whole time.

Before you could decide how exactly you wanted to defile her, kuina stumbled over. "I might need help back to my room." She slurred as she swayed, mira jumps at the intrusion and turned her eyes to the side without turning her head. "I guess we have other plans." Mira said cheerfully, which somehow sounded like anger on her. You chuckle and lean forward to Mira's ear. "I'd love to continue another time." You whisper then move to wrap kuinas arm over your shoulder and start towards her room.

After you get her to bed, you walk with Mira to her room in a comfortable silence. The warmth of her presence is peaceful. You wonder what she was like pre-borderlands. Apparently someone who used to fight you think smiling. "What are you thinking?" Mira asks breaking the silence. "How often did you fight back in the normal world?" She looks surprised, it's the first time you've seen this expression on her. "Oh, just once in grade school. I was never a big fighter. I've always used ones heart to get what I want rather than physical violence." She answers looking lost in thought.

"Do you plan to use my heart to get what you want?" You say amused. Mira stops walking and turns towards you, brushing her fingers along your hand. "What if your heart is what I want?" She asks after a moment. You step closer and lean in slowly. "Have you really never kissed a woman before?" You softly ask, running your thumb over her bottom lip. She shakes her head and opens her mouth slightly. "Would you like to?" You ask realizing you have her backed against a wall with one hand on the wall behind her, the other now tilting her chin up to look at you. "Yes." Mira whispers and you lean down pressing your lips against hers. She grabs your hips and pulls you into her. You melt into each other slowly. The throbbing between your legs has you grinding your thigh between hers. The friction making Mira moan into your mouth. You pull back and shes breathing heavier than normal, her cheeks rosey. Cute, you think to yourself. You'd like to see how undone you can make her.

"Something wrong?" She asks. "I'd like to make a mess of you." You take her delicate hand and kiss the top of it. "But it's 4 in the morning and you deserve all night. I'm afraid we'll have to take a raincheck." You hold her hand against your cheek. Mira huffs a bit but doesn't object and you almost laugh at her annoyance but think better of it.

Once you reach Mira's room she stands at her door looking conflicted. You cup her face with one hand and say "would you come to library tomorrow night?"

"that's not what I thought you were going to say."

"aand what did you think I was going to say?" Mira blushes at this. It was getting easier to make her blush. You were going to have fun teasing her. As much as you liked her unhinged smile, these new reactions were exciting. "I should go to bed." She says pulling away, but before she can you pull her back to you and kiss her cheek. "Yes, you should." You leave her there touching her cheek and smiling as she watching you go.

#reader insert #fanfiction #alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #mira kano #slow burn #eventual smut

[mashas-rotting]

"She'd look beautiful twisted in my sheets"

I might have accidentally started writing a fic about Mira instead of finishing my niragi fic.

#oops my hand slipped #imawa no kuni no alice #alice in borderland #mira kano #why am i obsessed with psychopaths #toxic love interest #honestly toxic reader too #fanfiction

[mashas-rotting]

Queen of hearts

Chapter 2

Tw: f/f, fingering, oral, dirty talk, hair pulling, choking, semi public sex. I think that's all?

The first thing you see walking into the library, is Mira, in a tiny black two piece, her legs crossed sitting on the couch reading. You take her in for a moment. The exposed skin of her thighs making your mouth water. You wonder how they'd feel with your face between them. "See something you like?" She asks looking up from her book blinking in faux innocence. She's the devil and she's doing this on purpose. "Actually I was admiring your commitment to modesty. You would stop hearts in something more revealing." You reply sitting in the chair beside her. She pouts at this and closes her book. This woman makes it so hard to not close the distance and claim those pouty lips, but you had actually planned on reading tonight.

"What are you reading?" You tap her book in question. "Hunting Adeline. I'll let you read it when I'm done with it. I think you'll find it... entertaining." Her black hair brushes her shoulder as she tilts her head with a smile. "I'd like that very much. I'm almost done with when you were mine. I figured I'd finish it now." You pull out the book she previously gifted you and begin to settle.

Maybe the knowledge of her barely covered body beside you was distracting, maybe it was the fact that every few moments Mira was crossing and uncrossing her legs, but finishing the book proved impossible. You decided to steal glances at her as you pretend to read. She had to be doing it on purpose. Fuck. Her bikini bottoms hold her so perfectly, you find yourself drawn to how it clings to her most intimate parts.

"Something wrong?" You ask, giving up on your book. "Oh, um, no. Nothing's wrong." She waves her hand blushing. God help you, this woman was going to blush screaming your name before the end of the night. Smiling with a sudden interest in what has her blushing, you lean towards her and say, "I can't seem to get into my book at the moment. Why don't you read yours aloud?" The blush intensifies on her delicate features. "I.. um.. I don't.. know" She stutters.

You move over to sit beside her on the couch, and lean closer, your lips ghosting against her ear as you whisper. "Give me what I want." Her breath catches and you inhale the floral scent of her neck before softly kissing it, making her hum and lean into you. "Please?" You ask placing your hand on her thigh. "Okay." She whispers back. You can already feel yourself getting wet.

Mira slowly and quietly begins reading you one of the most disturbingly hot sex scenes you've ever heard. You groan into her neck and bite her as you rub your hand up her thigh slightly. She squeaks at the sudden attack on her neck, but rolls her head back offering you easier access. "Don't stop. I wanna know what happens next." Your voice is breathy. You gently bite her ear and she moans but continues. Every sound she makes sends electricity to your core.

Needing better access to her body you pull her till she's sitting between your legs facing away from you so you can see the pages of her filthy book over her shoulder. Wrapping your arms around her you spread her legs and she arches her back stuttering. "Don't get distracted, sweetheart." You say scraping your nails along her thighs. Mira whimpers before continuing.

Slowly, one hand makes its way between her legs and you gasp feeling her soaked bottoms. "Oh fuck, baby. Is this why you're so restless?" You ask taking her throat with your other hand. "All worked up and nothing inside you?" You squeeze her throat causing her to thrust against your hand and drop the book. "Tsk that's no way to treat literature." You squeeze harder and rub her through the wet fabric. She tries to close her legs to get more fiction but you stop them with your legs locking them in place.

"Anyone could come in. See you like this. So needy." You release her throat and she gasps for air. "please." She half whispers half moans. "Please what?" You reply sweetly, pinching one of her nipples through her top. "Mmm please. More." You've never heard her sound so undone. "Of course, pretty girl. Anything for you." And you dip her hand into her bikini bottoms sliding a finger between her wet folds. Mira bucks her hips into your hand, soft moans escaping her.

"Shhh, listen." You slide your finger inside of her and she cries out. You slap her hand to her mouth to keep her quiet. "I said listen." As you pump your finger in and out of her the sound of her wetness fills the room and she whines into your hand and clenches around your finger. You feel your clit throb in response. "So messy." You lower your hand from her mouth and slide it under her top messaging her bare breast.

Mira turns and shoves her face against your neck as she tries to hold back her moans. Her hands wrap themselves into your hair as you add a finger, curing them inside her. " Y/n, I'm s-so close." She stutters thrusting against your hand. "Oh yeah, pretty girl? Gonna cum for me? Gonna make a mess?" You say as you fuck your fingers into her harder but keeping the same pace. "Uh huh," she nods as she pulls your hair. "That's it. Come on, cum for me. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl." You feel her cunt clench tighter and she throws her head back moaning as she soaks the couch, and your hand, in her cum.

Once Mira catches her breath you pull your hand out of her bottoms and show her the mess she made. "I'm all sticky thanks to you. Don't you think you should help me clean them up?" She blushes but leans forward and take your fingers into her mouth. You gasp at her tongue hungrily cleaning your fingers, grabbing her by the hair, you begin fucking her mouth with them. "So fucking pretty." you hold her head in place so she's forced to keep eye contact.

Slowly you slide your fingers deeper into her mouth until they won't go any further and you feel her swallow around them. "I'm going to fuck your filthy mouth sweetheart." You moan as you remove your hand from her mouth and she keeps her mouth open, tongue out on display, begging. "Oh? Is that what you want? Want me to claim your mouth?" You taunt and move to sit beside her. She nods eagerly before you lean in and kiss her deeply. Mira's hands find their way to your body, exploring it with desperation.

"Get on your knees." You command, whispering into her mouth. You untie the side of your bikini bottoms and spread your legs as she sits between them. Miras panting practically drooling as she watches you. Before you can tell her to, she leans forward wrapping her hot mouth around you clit. Moaning you grab her hair and buck against her mouth. "Look at me." Her eyes, half closed, lock onto yours before rolling back as she groans against your cunt. "You're doing so good, baby. Fuck, that feels so good." You moan and her eyes are back on you.

Her light kitten swirls on your clit turn into an intentional attack as she pulls one of your legs over her shoulder. Good god, how was she so good at this. Your body feels hot as your orgasm builds. Arching your back you thrust against her, using her hair as a handle to rub her tongue exactly where you want. Mira digs her nails into your thigh and moans into you, sending you over the edge. Your legs squeeze together trapping her as you cry out coating her face even more with your orgasm.

#reader insert #alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #fanfiction #mira kano #f/f fanfic #f/f ship #library #pretty girl #theres more i was just excited to post this #submira #goodgirl

[eletricheart]

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thank you all for not only enjoying the stories i write (are u okay?) but for also being so patient. I know i dont have the best release schedule (i dont even have one) and im so sorry for that.

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Now...I cant miss the chance to advertise my work😈 For those who dont know I do the Goddess work of fanfiction writing.

I write for: mother miranda, donna beneviento, mira kano and katherine pierce.

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[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

Author’s Notes:

You’ve reached the final chapter. To avoid spoilers, I won't be using CWs for this chapter. Disturbing and potentially triggering content are untagged. Readers have been warned.

XIII

cut through this razor wire | and dine on your heart | mine 'til the end

Lying on the floor and bleeding, Yamaneko calls out to Sunohara once again.

“Help me.”

The doctor springs into action, taking off her pristine white coat to press it against Yamaneko’s bleeding stomach. Then, she turns to the street artist. “You’re Hinata, right?”

Shaking and crying at the same time, the street artist nods. “Hinata, please apply pressure for me. I have to administer the antivenom. Can you do that?” Sunohara asks, brows furrowed in concentration.

The tan-skinned girl nods rapidly, crawling over to do as she’s told. As Sunohara excises the venom from Yamaneko’s hand with a scalpel, the militant turns to Hinata with a wry smile. “Well, welcome to the world of Heart games. It’s brutal as hell.”

“Would you please shut up? You’ve been bitten by a deadly snake and stabbed in the stomach. Please save your strength,” Hinata blurts, tears spilling from her eyes uncontrollably.

“You’re not my mother. Then again, I never really listened to her in the first place.” She tilts her head towards Mr. Yamane’s corpse. “Or him, for that matter.”

“You’re bleeding out but you still have the energy to joke?! You’re something else...”

“It’s how I coped with that bastard’s bullshit all these years, newbie.”

Needle sinking into her arm, Yamaneko didn’t flinch, unable to feel the pain at that point. As the last drop of the life-saving medicine leaves the syringe, the synthetic voice crackles from their phones’ speakers. “Game cleared. Congratulations!”

Yamaneko chuckles, which comes out as a garbled sob. “Congratulations, my ass. I don’t think I’ll make it.”

“Don’t say that. We’ll bring you back to the Beach for medical attention, okay?” Sunohara reassures her, bandaging her arm with a roll of gauze from the first aid kit that she always carries with her to the games.

“Let’s not fool ourselves,” Yamaneko slurs, head spinning. “Do you have anything I can write on?”

Hinata and Sunohara look at each other, then at Yamaneko. “I just need to leave a letter for my lover… in case I don’t survive this.”

With reluctance, Sunohara plucks her pen from the pocket of her bloodied doctor’s coat, while Hinata offers a notepad full of sketches, turning to a blank page and holding it for the wounded woman. Hand shaking, Yamaneko pens a hasty letter, tears the page from the notepad, and tucks it in her jacket.

“Let’s go.”

Palms cold and wet, Takatora waits outside Tokyo Zoo. His clothes are soaked with sweat, and his katana is soaked with blood, but there is barely a scratch on him. Tonight’s game has been a cakewalk for him.

He’s hoping the same for his lover.

Anxiety is radiating off of him, his face twitching every now and then from the subdued agitation he’s feeling.

“It’s too cold to be out,” Aguni calls out from the inside of the car, but Last Boss ignores him, opting to wait outside and greet Yamaneko once she emerges from the game venue.

Tapping his fingers against the dashboard, Aguni couldn’t help but be anxious too. “Yamaneko will be fine. She knows what she’s doing,” he mutters. Last Boss didn’t respond once again, but deep down, he hopes the chief is right.

So when Yamaneko emerges from the shadows, being dragged by two of her fellow players, he regrets not forcing her to adapt to his methods.

Long legs taking him as fast as they could to her, Last Boss catches Yamaneko in his arms, while Aguni near-smacks the car door off its hinges as he gets out of the car to look.

“Yamaneko.” There was a slight crack in Last Boss’ voice as he uttered his lover’s moniker. A bloody, swollen hand reaches out to touch his face. “Tora. My plan worked… but I think I should’ve gone with yours. I’m sorry. I was too stubborn.”

“Stop talking,” he hushes her, and carries her to the car.

Upon seeing the militants, Hinata panics. “Her father stabbed her, he wanted the antidote and she’s bleeding I-” she stammers, but Last Boss ignores her, laying his lover down.

“Explain later,” Aguni tells her, brusquely opening the door to the driver’s seat and twisting the car key into place. “You,” he addresses Sunohara. “Get in the backseat with them and help.”

The doctor nods, hopping in the car, and as soon as Hinata gets in the passenger seat, Aguni speeds off.

In the backseat, Yamaneko lies on Last Boss’ lap, while Sunohara presses her damn hardest on her stab wound. Despite the doctor’s best efforts and the vial of antidote, the combined injury and the effect of the venom on her blood is far too much. Blood painted the leather of the car seat, Sunohara’s hands, and Last Boss’ clothes.

“Hang in there,” the doctor near-cries. Her eyes meet with the tattooed militants’, and she gulps. “Don’t worry, once we get to the Beach, she’ll be fine-”

“Don’t make any promises you can’t keep.”

There is a subtle anguish hiding behind the militant’s deep voice. One large hand is cradling his lover’s head, while the other is gripping his katana, knuckles white from the tension.

A weak, broken chuckle escapes Yamaneko’s lips, and Last Boss turns his full attention to her.

“She’s just trying to make you feel better,” she croaks.

Glassy, bloodshot eyes met his, and when she opened her mouth to speak again, her teeth were stained with her blood. Last Boss couldn’t say a word, eyes wide and wet as he watched Yamaneko struggle to speak. Her tiny hand disappears into the pocket of her jacket, and she presses a folded slip of paper to her lover’s chest.

With cold, sweating hands, he takes it from hers, pockets it, and he goes back to cradling her. Shallow breaths kissed his cheek, and the wildcat’s eyes fluttered shut, which were heavy with fatigue.

“Yamaneko?” the tattooed militant mumbles, lips twitching. He leans in to hear if she’s still breathing, and she whispers something.

Then, he hears it; death rattles, a telltale sign that she’s slipping away. The rest of the ride is filled with solemn silence.

It’s too late for her when they arrived at the Beach.

The speakers didn’t need to be toppled over for the music to stop. There were no shouts that instructed the sea of people to get out of the way. Conversations died to whispers as people saw one of the most dangerous members of the Beach with a woman curled in his arms.

“Shit, is she dead?”

“There’s so much blood…”

“Wasn’t she his girlfriend or something?”

“Did he kill her?”

“I bet he stabbed her. That guy’s a psycho!”

“That’s what you get for hanging around with those militants…”

The whispers didn’t bother Last Boss anymore, who disappeared into the building with the others.

All the color from Yamaneko’s face is gone, and it’s her turn to lie on a gurney in the makeshift morgue, the harsh lights making her look ghostlike. Members of the executive board and the people who were present during her death surrounded her.

“Did she carry out her task, at least?” the Hatter asks, his usual jovial air gone.

“She succeeded,” Aguni responds, eyes flicking from his dead underling’s body to the women she played her last game with. “On the way here, those two said that before his death, her father admitted to committing the murders.”

“It’s a shame it has come to this,” Ann laments, crossing her arms. “She was becoming an important asset to the Beach, despite her allegiance to the military sect.”

Mira tuts. “And a promising Heart player too.”

“Great. We’ll have to find a replacement for her now,” Niragi sighs, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

“Is that all you view her as? Someone who you can use to bring you game cards?” Hinata speaks up, fists clenched. Niragi shoots a sour look in her direction. “People die every day on the Beach. What makes her any different? You barely even know her. Everyone here barely even knows her.”

“Yeah? What about him, huh?” Hinata retorts, pointing to Last Boss.

Silence had befallen the room, and all eyes were on the tattooed militant. The corner of his mouth twitching, knuckles white, Last Boss gives Yamaneko’s corpse a long, hard look. A cold, large hand caresses her even colder forehead, and brushes her bangs off of her face.

“I’ll burn her body once you’re done cutting her open.”

Then, he turns around, leaving the room without saying another word.

“See?” Niragi chuckles. “He just left like he didn’t stick his dick in her just hours before.”

This time, the normally calm and gentle Sunohara snaps. “Don’t make assumptions about how people process grief. You don’t know how he feels, none of us do.”

Before an argument can erupt in the morgue, Hatter raises an open palm. “What anyone feels about her death is irrelevant now. What was certain is she died a loyal member of the Beach. Ann, carry on with your autopsy.” Then, he turns to Aguni. “You’re her chief. Give her a proper send-off after Ann’s procedures, if you want.”

One by one, people left the room, leaving only Ann and Sunohara inside. However, before Hinata departs, she walks over to the taller women, biting her lip.

“Hey. I think there’s something you need to know about her. I think her boyfriend should know too.”

Later that night, heavy boots thumped against the hotel’s carpeted floor. Aguni opens the door to an exclusive suite, where the Hatter is waiting, with no bodyguards present. Just the two of them.

Takeru pours his friend a shot of strong whiskey, and the leader of the militants downs it in one gulp. The shot glass makes a clinking sound as Morizono slams it down the coffee table.

“Mori,” Takeru calls his attention. “How are you holding up?”

With a weary sigh, he turns to his oldest friend. “I feel like shit. I shouldn’t have given her permission to carry out her plan alone. I thought putting her together with the doctor is enough to keep her safe.”

Drinking a shot of his own, Takeru moves closer to him. “Do you feel responsible for her death?”

“She’s my underling. It’s only normal.”

“I know you better than that, Mori.”

Aguni turns to his best friend, eyes bloodshot and wet, but the tears didn’t spill. “Like you said before, she’s a stabilizing element. Hell, somehow, she managed to make Niragi back off from that new girl, and Last Boss is calmer around her. To think I planned to train her so she can help me keep the others under control in the future…”

“That’s the most I’ve heard from you in a while. You cared about her, didn’t you?” Takeru asks, taking a fat stick of cigar and lighting it. Afterwards, he pours his friend another shot of liquor.

A single tear falls from the normally stoic, brusque man’s eye. “Those eyes of hers when she looks at her father… I saw the same eyes in the mirror years ago.”

He pauses, and gives Takeru a soft laugh. “A part of me wanted to be the father she never had. Huh, am I even old enough for that?”

Patting Morizono’s back, Takeru blows smoke out of his mouth.

“There’s the Mori I know, a softie underneath that hard exterior.”

Meanwhile, the door to Takatora and Yamaneko’s shared room creaks open. On the table is the vintage sewing machine Yamaneko took from the antique store in Shimokitazawa, along with the other things they’ve brought back.

Takatora runs his fingers across the smooth finish of the Singer, then he picks it up and throws it against the wall. Various items got flung across the room, from the knick knacks they gathered together, to the hotel’s heavy furniture.

“You should’ve listened to me,” he says to no one in particular.

“Yamaneko, you should’ve listened to me! You should’ve just killed him,” he rasps as he picks up a lamp and throws it to the ground, shattering it into pieces.

By the end of the night, the room is in ruins. The wallpaper is shredded, the bathroom sink is in pieces, and the tattooed man sits panting on the floor, eyes frenzied. As his breathing evens out, he remembers the folded piece of paper his lover gave him, and with trembling hands, he retrieves it from his pocket.

Unfolding it, he starts reading the contents.

“Tora, if you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. I’m sorry. Remember the day I asked you to kiss me? What you said to me that day was beautiful, so I lived by it. I’m thankful for this world. I’m thankful for you. Please continue living free in this world without me. You never told me if you believed in an afterlife, but if there is one, I’ll come looking for you after you’ve returned to the soil. I’m yours forever.”

Then he reads it, the same words she uttered with her dying breath.

“I love you.”

Takatora screams, head between his hands.

After some time, he passes out on the floor, curled over pillows he grabbed from the bed. They still smelled like her.

The next afternoon, he awakens to someone knocking. After rubbing the sleep off of his eyes, Last Boss picks up his katana, and opens the door. Aguni stands on the other side, a neutral expression on his face. The chief’s eyes wander around the room and sees its disheveled state, and clears his throat.

“Patrol with me. Now.”

Not bothering to close the door behind him, the tattooed man follows, head hung low.

Truth be told, Aguni didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what the other man was thinking about, but judging the state of his room, he’s not handling Yamaneko’s passing well. People whispered about Last Boss as they walked through the halls, and Aguni grits his teeth at the inane gossip.

“He’s terrifying.”

“Maybe she tried to leave him and he wouldn’t let her go.”

“From what I heard, she said no to him and it made him angry.”

“What did she even see in him?”

To avoid the risk of Last Boss snapping, Aguni moves on from that place, leading him away from prying eyes. As they rounded a corner, they came face to face with Doctor Sunohara, whose lips trembled as she pressed a clipboard against her chest.

“O-oh. Hey. I’ve been meaning to look for you. Last Boss, was it?”

With a blank stare, he nods, and Sunohara takes a sharp inhale. “Our autopsy just finished. I think there’s something you should know as Miss Yamane’s partner.” The doctor turns to Aguni. ‘If you don’t mind…”

“I’m Yamaneko’s chief. I’m responsible for her.”

“I see. Well, there’s no use beating around the bush.” Turning to the tattooed militant, Sunohara presses her lips in a tight line.

“Your partner… she was pregnant at her time of death.”

Neither of the two men didn’t know what to say, and just glared at the doctor with their tongues tied.

“Are you sure about this?” Aguni asks, folding his arms.

“To be fair, I was skeptical too. It’s been more than two weeks since I prescribed her emergency pills and birth control, so she should’ve been protected. Before she passed away, she bled from her privates. I thought it was just that time of the month or some spotting, but I found out that she neglected taking her medications. The girl you two were with also told me about her symptoms. So Ann and I tested her… and, well, the results returned positive.”

Last Boss blinks a few times, knuckles turning white as he balled up his fists.

“...show me the baby,” the quiet man finally speaks up.

“At this stage, there isn’t a baby yet. There’s not even a fetus.”

“Then how are you sure that she was pregnant?”

The doctor fishes something out of her pocket, and hands it to the tall, quiet man. “It’s a pregnancy test. Look here,” she points to the two lines. “Two lines means positive.”

This time, Aguni expresses his skepticism. “But she was dead by the time you took this test. How do we know this is accurate?”

With a patient gaze, Sunohara continues explaining. “I was an obstetrician-gynecologist before I came here. The pregnancy hormone hCG can remain in a patient’s system from one to nine weeks after a miscarriage. From the levels we got from her urine, she’s been pregnant for about two weeks.”

Neither of them asked any more questions after that. The tattooed militant’s gaze is fixated on the positive test, mouth agape from disbelief.

Sunohara clears her throat. “I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry for your loss. When you’re ready, you can come pick her body up later. Excuse me, I need a smoke.”

Sunohara walks away, leaving the militants stunned at the revelation.

Both are at a loss for words. Aguni is trying to come up with something to say, while Last Boss’ thoughts are racing a mile a minute.

What would’ve happened if Yamaneko survived, and found out about her pregnancy? Takatora never even thought of having children, but he wonders what their child would look like. Would that child take after its mother, inheriting her dreamy eyes, small nose, and short height? Or would it take after him, and get his long limbs, pronounced nose, and sullen gaze?

But Niragi had touched her before he did. Did he use protection? Is it his seed that impregnated her instead? A twisted, selfish, and possessive part of him wanted it to be his, just like how he wanted Yamaneko to be his. The same twisted, selfish, and possessive part of him knew that Yamaneko would be terrified to have this child, but having it would help stake his claim on her.

Thinking about it seems so pointless now that she’s gone. Last Boss shakes the thoughts off, and focuses on his deceased lover’s last words, instead.

He’ll live free in this world without her.

Feet taking him back to his room, he gathered what’s left of Yamaneko’s belongings that hadn't been destroyed in his frenzy, and packed them in a rugged sack. That afternoon, he informs Aguni that he’ll be excusing himself from patrols, and the games. He must tend to Yamaneko’s body.

“Where will you bury her?” Aguni asks him.

“I won’t. I’ll burn her, near the place where I found her.”

“I’ll drive you there,” Aguni offers.

Wordlessly, he nods.

As the night falls, they load Yamaneko’s body in the back of the car, and Aguni drives. In the trunk are various pieces of wood, gasoline, and the rest of Yamaneko’s things. The chief raises an eyebrow as they stop outside a laser tag arcade.

It’s the place where it all began.

Retrieving the items from the trunk, Takatora builds his lover a pyre. Aguni watches from the inside of the car, allowing him to grieve by himself. Then, Last Boss walks back to the car to retrieve his dead lover’s body, wrapped in a makeshift body bag.

With uncharacteristic gentleness, he lays her down, and unwraps her. Just a day before, she was alive and full of enthusiasm as she made love to him in the antique store; seeing her lifeless and cold makes Takatora’s breath constrict in his throat.

It’s been more than twelve hours since her death; her limbs are relaxed now. Yamaneko’s body had been cut open and sewn back shut, stitches lining her body. Her skin is cold to the touch, all of its color gone. The tiger crouches beside his wildcat, and presses his warm, trembling lips against her cold ones.

Then, he pulls away, and douses her with gasoline.

Reaching in his pocket, he retrieves a lighter, and sets her ablaze.

The flames lick her skin, and he watches. One by one, he throws in the rest of Yamaneko’s possessions; fragments of the sewing machine, her sewing kit containing all her threads and needles, assorted pieces of stationery, various makeup, the positive pregnancy stick, and finally, her beloved jacket. Before he throws the last item in, he presses it against his face, taking in her scent one last time.

After those had been tossed in the flame, he reaches inside his pocket again, and takes out all the photographs he took of her just the day before.

Takatora has no need for the obscene pictures Yamaneko allowed him to take; it’ll only remind his body of what he had lost. They burned to a crisp as the flames touched them.

Then, he gets to the last two photographs. His favorites.

The enigmatic militant didn’t even notice the warm tear that landed on the picture of his lover’s smiling face.

Takatora adds that to the burning pile, as well.

Lastly, he takes out Yamaneko’s letter to him, and reads it again one last time, this time doing so out loud.

Smoke rose to the heavens, and the fire roared into the night, drowning out his voice.

Last Boss only got worse after that night. He killed with no remorse, and faced the game with no fear of dying, staying true to who he is, and to Yamaneko’s final words to him.

Some days later, the unthinkable happened.

With the Hatter dead, the Beach is falling apart. Aguni takes the helm, and the last numbered Heart game finally commences within the Beach grounds. As the announcement blares over the hotel’s speakers, Last Boss goes to the table to pick up a phone, which lights up and recognizes his face. The lobby is getting crowded, anxious players passing each other phones to prepare for the biggest, deadliest game yet.

It’s a witch-hunt of some sort. Burn the witch that killed the dead girl lying on the lobby floor.

As the people babbled about their theories about the witch, Last Boss grew impatient.

His past experiences proved again and again that the best solution is the most straightforward one.

So when one girl points her finger to the militant sect, Last Boss comes behind her, and plunges his katana through her chest. Several bystanders jumped away from the scene, mortified. The tattooed militant withdraws his blade, and opens his mouth to speak, a mad glint in his eye.

“How troublesome. Let’s just burn everyone we find.”

Across him, Niragi’s newest toy, some girl that arrived at the Beach days ago, looks at him with a horrified expression. The murmurs quiet down as the chief approaches, addressing the crowd. Last Boss didn’t even pay attention to what he said. The moment Niragi fires his gun, he joins the fray, killing anyone who got in the way.

Chaos erupts in the Beach. People ran, some hid like rats in their rooms. They need to be lured out, and Last Boss knows just how to do it. Niragi speaks to him through a walkie-talkie while he dragged canisters of fuel and kicked them over the storage room’s floor.

Flames erupt as he tosses his lit lighter to the floor. In the fire, he sees Yamaneko; her cold, dead body to be exact. He pulls his hood down, blinks a few times, and ultimately chooses to turn around and continue the witch hunt.

That night, he didn’t know that he’d be meeting her again so soon.

Last Boss woke up from a dazed state in a burning room, inhaling thick black smoke. He recalls the moments before he lost consciousness, and remembers going against a formidable foe; a woman trained in martial arts who managed to defeat him, and render him unconscious. Silently, he thanked that woman for paving the way for him. Thanks to her, he’s one step closer to finally facing death.

Ordinary people wouldn’t understand people like Last Boss, who embraced it. To him, this world is the one in its true form, without the illusions of civilization. Not even his own mother would have understood his philosophy.

But Yamaneko did.

And as the carbon monoxide-laden smoke continues to fill his lungs, Takatora sees her walking towards him, healthy and hale with her pretty smile, just like in the photograph he had burned weeks ago. There’s a slight bulge on her belly, made obvious in her usual Beach outfit.

“I didn’t expect you to follow so soon,” she greets him, sitting next to him in the burning building. “I’ve missed you so much, Tora.” His lover pats her belly. “We were waiting for you.”

“Yamaneko.”

Even in the foul smoke, he can smell her scent, and even in the blazing heat, her warmth is greater.

“Are you afraid?” she asks him, holding his hand.”

“No. I’ll embrace death.”

“Did you get to live freely?”

“Yes. I’m freer than I ever was.”

“Are you ready?” Yamaneko asks as she leans her head against his shoulder.

“I’m ready.”

Kissing him gently, Yamaneko sits in his lap. “Return to the soil with me, Tora.”

“I’ll be happy to.”

“I love you,” Yamaneko whispers, before closing her eyes.

Takatora closes his eyes, grateful for all the experiences he had in this beautiful world.

“I love you.”

Author’s Notes 2: Well, writing this was a journey. Hopefully I did the canon characters some justice, especially Last Boss. Imagining a character like him having a love interest is challenging, and this was fun to write. The last two chapters were taxing to write due to the research I put in about poisons, venomous snakes, and other medical stuff, but it was worth it!

I've debated for months on whether I should give them a happy ending... but in the end, the angst won out. Thank you for reading, and thank you for sticking with our dormouse-turned-wildcat anti villain protagonist till the end.

#alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #fanfic: dormouse #oc: minami yamane #oc: zia hinata #oc: lilian sunohara #last boss #takatora samura #last boss x oc #takatora samura x oc #suguru niragi #morizono aguni #rizuna an #mira kano #takeru danma #fanfiction #character study

[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

Author’s Notes:

CW: sexist language, blood, parental abuse. This is a heavy chapter, please proceed with caution.

XII

the earth will see our eyes go blank tonight / the earth will rot away go blank tonight / I, I really wish these snakes were your arms

Soft snores float from the back of the truck, and Hinata does her best not turn around and stare.

Yamaneko had fallen asleep, her body curled up next to Last Boss’. The taller militant is resting his chin on top of her head, a protective arm around her waist. Their backs are turned from the other two occupying the front seats.

The taller militant glances at them with near-murderous intent when Tatta hits a bump on the road and wakes Yamaneko up. She rubs the sleep from her eyes, glances at Last Boss, then feels an overwhelming urge to puke her breakfast out.

Pale, the militant hangs her head over the edge of the four by four, and hurls.

“Stop the car,” Last Boss tells Tatta, who hits the brakes and looks at the female militant with concern. Hinata couldn’t help but look as well, watching as the terrifying militant rubbed his girlfriend’s back.

Coughing, Yamaneko turns to the driver. “Could you drive more carefully? Shit…”

“Sorry, I’ll drive more carefully,” Tatta blurts, bowing his head low in apology. He can still feel Last Boss’ death glare burning the back of his head as he restarts the engine.

Somewhat concerned for the nicer militant’s wellbeing, Hinata tosses them a water bottle, which Last Boss catches with one hand. Drinking from the water bottle slowly, Yamaneko gives the other girl a thumbs up.

Slumping against the backseat, HInata is still coming to terms with the fact that these armed and dangerous maniacs are still people who can have attachments.

She then starts to wonder if the militants at the back were anything like who they are now. The Borderlands does seem to bring either the best or the worst out of people, after all. Was Last Boss always an eccentric guy prone to violence, and was Yamaneko always a blunt gal with no regard for social norms?

The street artist takes a sharp inhale in contemplation, and regrets doing so as soon as the damp, earthy scent hits her. Rolling down a window, Hinata pokes her head out of the car, unable to stand the smell of sex and sweat from the militants at the back, and chuckles to herself.

“What’s so funny?” Tatta asks, a hand on the steering wheel and eyes still on the road.

“The car smells like sex and now I’m wondering if I should take her advice.”

“A-ah. Well, it’s your choice,” Tatta replies, his free hand scratching the back of his head.

“What about you, Tatta? Ever thought of sleeping around in the Beach?”

A small laugh escapes his lips. “Not really my thing, sorry. I prefer spending my time fixing cars and goofing around with my friends.”

“Mm, that does sound better. I enjoyed painting that mural with you, by the way. We should-”

A voice who belongs to neither of them cuts their conversation short. “Keep it down.”

Both of them nearly jumped upon hearing Last Boss’ voice. The militant is staring at them with mild hostility, his lover’s head still resting on his shoulder. “You’re going to wake her up again.”

“Right, sorry!” Tatta blurts, then he turns away from him, cold sweat on his forehead. Hinata tries her best to stifle a giggle. There’s something she finds humorous about seeing the enigmatic and frightening Last Boss cuddling with a sleeping girl and shushing people for her sake.

The two in the front remained quiet for the rest of the drive back, their knees bumping together.

The car came to a halt as they arrived. Gently, Last Boss shakes his lover awake, who drowsily mumbles something incoherent as she stretches. The group was unloading their haul when Aguni approached them, a grim expression on his face. Niragi and another militant followed closely behind.

Hinata flinches upon seeing the man with the pierced face, who closes in on her, trapping her against the side of the four by four. Tatta glares at him with wide eyes, feet plastered to the ground and too afraid to move. Niragi whispers something inaudible to the rest of the people present, which makes Hinata shrink further into the warm metal of the car.

To the street artist’s relief, Yamaneko gets in between them and pushes Niragi off nonchalantly as she walks towards the chief. She didn’t hear the quick “thank you” that bubbled from HInata’s throat, who slinked off to the back of the vehicle to hide.

“The hell is your problem?”

“You’re rolling your tongue out like a cartoon wolf again. You look like shit,” Yamaneko replies, smirking and flipping her side fringe as she turns away from Niragi.

“You smell like shit. You smell like a damn brothel,” Niragi yells after her, and she raises a single middle finger in response.

Niragi sneered, his fun for the day ruined, and he stood next to Last Boss.

“Shit, Last Boss, you too,” Niragi remarks as he caught a whiff of Last Boss’ scent, fanning the air with his hand. “Wait, is that dried sweat I’m smelling from your face or- you fucking dog,” Niragi adds, giving him a devious grin.

The tattooed militant rolls his eyes and doesn’t dignify Niragi’s teasing with a reply. He couldn’t hide the smug look on his face, though. Aguni frowns at their juvenile exchange, and pushes past Niragi.

“Enough. Where the hell were you two?” Aguni asks, voice low and full of disappointment. The chief looks at Last Boss and Yamaneko, and one can compare him to a father scolding children who snuck away past their curfew.

“Easy, chief. We just went on a double date with those newbies,” Yamaneko replies, smiling as she motioned to Hinata and Tatta. Her smile turns to a wicked grin upon seeing Niragi’s jealous expression.

That was Tatta and Hinata’s cue to run away as far as they can from the scene.

Before Niragi can confront the two of them, Aguni gives him a glare to remind him of why they’re here, and he begrudgingly stays in place. Then, he turns back to the pair. “We thought the two of you dropped dead somewhere.”

“Dropped dead? I- chief, what happened while we were gone?”

“This isn’t something we should be talking about in the open. You two, come with us,” Aguni responds. Gulping, Yamaneko gives Last Boss a worried gaze, who stands a little closer to the shorter militant.

Dread settling in her gut, Yamaneko found herself in the makeshift morgue again, where several bodies lay on separate gurneys. Aside from the Beach executives, there were several other people in the room, including a few familiar faces. Kuina and Chishiya are present, as well as Sunohara, who acknowledges her with a nod. Ann looks at the militants with a grim frown, and takes off her shades.

“We have limited equipment here in the Beach, but thanks to Sunohara’s help, we were able to determine that the victims’ hearts, brains, and kidneys are damaged. This might be a poisoning case,” Ann announces as she walks towards them.

“Do you think this is the same killer from before?” Aguni asks, stepping towards one of the corpses. He lift’s the dead man’s arm, and sees his number tag. Seventeen; just one rank away from Yamaneko.

“It’s possible. The suspect might’ve caught up with our attempts to investigate and switched methods. Plus, I think we have a motive now.”

Yamaneko turns to the taller woman, brows furrowed.

“Is there any reason why I should be here?” she asks, heart racing.

“That’s where the motive comes in. The player numbers of the people who were killed were in the top thirty. Twenty nine, twenty three, nineteen, seventeen, and twelve. One of the victims was even a member of Aguni’s martial sect. Whoever did this is eliminating higher ranked players. If you hadn't left this afternoon, you might have been a target. From the clues we have so far, someone who’s very desperate to leave the Beach must be behind this.”

“Then we need to put an end to this, fast,” Mira finally speaks up. “It’s only a matter of time before this person targets someone on the executive board.”

“I think I know who this person is…” Niragi scoffs. “It’s definitely Yamaneko’s asshole dad.”

Head whipping towards Niragi, Yamaneko folds her arms in skepticism, about to say something, but ultimately choosing to close her mouth. Hatter uses the silence as an opportunity to impart his observations.

“Come to think of it… whenever he turns in his cards from a game, he’s often the sole survivor.”

“Are you saying that he killed the other players to receive sole credit for the card?” Kuina speaks up from her corner. Beside her, Chishiya gives the executives a knowing smirk. “It’s a possibility.”

Aguni turns to the daughter of the suspect, who’s sweating bullets. “You said it yourself that you think that the man is capable of being violent with anyone. What do you think?” he asks.

“Hm. Your father is CEO of a company that provided services to this hotel before we all ended up here, am I correct?” Ann asks, circling Yamaneko now. “What kind of goods did they manufacture?” she adds.

“Yamacorp is an industrial manufacturer with a focus on chemical manufacturing.” Yamaneko replies.

“Was your father knowledgeable about the goods his company creates, or does he only manage the business side of things?” Ann asks, the conversation effectively turning into an impromptu interrogation.

“Father oversees the factory from time to time since he has a background in chemistry.”

Ann frowns. “Then there’s a high possibility that he is involved. One of the household poisons that can cause such damage is antifreeze.”

Lips trembling and thoughts racing her head a mile a minute, Yamaneko grimaces. “Are there any other suspects?”

“The only people with access to potentially hazardous chemicals in the Beach are the supply runners, medics, or the militants.”

Niragi rolls his eyes and points his rifle at his fellow executive member. “Are you accusing us of killing one of our own, Ann?”

“No. I’m just saying that it’s a possibility. We need to test the victims’ urine for calcium oxalate crystals, gather fingerprints, gather more witness accounts-”

Niragi interrupts with sarcastic clapping. “That plan’s just perfect, but you’re not in a damn forensic lab anymore, Ann.”

“Let’s just kill him,” Last Boss pipes up. At his suggestion, Yamaneko turns to glare at him.

In the corner, Chishiya chuckles and folds his arms. “Idiots,” he mutters under his breath, earning him a sour look from Niragi. Kuina observes the two of them, then turns her attention to the Hatter, who takes a few steps across the room.

“Niragi has a point. Ann’s methods would take too much time. The Beach is well equipped, but we don’t have everything,” the number one quips.

“We need to extract information any way we can,” Aguni adds.

“Then let’s beat it out of him,” Last Boss suggests.

Yamaneko begins to stammer, unable to come up with words in response to her fellow militants’ suggestions. “I- he-”

“What’s the matter, Yamaneko? Don’t tell me you feel sorry for that piece of shit. You’re sounding like that mousy little girl we picked up again,” Niragi asks, looking cross.

“I just think that beating someone into submission would only make them admit something they didn’t do,” the shorter militant says.

“She’s right,” Ann adds, placing a hand on her hip. “We need to lure the truth out of him.”

“How troublesome,” Last Boss mutters. “Beating him up is more straightforward.”

This time, Yamaneko frowns. “That’s what he did to me, and it always ended with me confessing to things I didn’t do just for the pain to stop.” His lover’s admission made the tattooed militant pause for a moment, throat dry, and Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed his own spit.

“Then do it to get back at him. Don’t you want to?”

At that point, Yamaneko’s hands are sweating, her voice inaudible to anyone but her lover. “I want to, but…”

“We’re not going to get anywhere with this,” Chishiya speaks up, leaving his corner and stepping under the harsh lights of the room. “The suspect isn’t even in this room for interrogation, and we’re not even sure if anyone is competent enough to manipulate the truth out of him. I know I can’t be bothered with it.”

“Then the next best thing would be for a Heart specialist to manipulate him into admitting his involvement, yes?” Mira suggests, grinning as she paces to the shortest militant in the room. Yamaneko’s throat is a dry river on a hot day, and her heart hammers against her ribcage.

“I’d do it myself, but being approached by an executive member would betray our intentions to him. We need someone who can rouse strong emotions out of him… provoke him and make him irrational. Make him blurt out a confession.”

Mira gasps excitedly, making eye contact with Yamaneko. “Ah! Why don’t you try it, Miss Yamane? You know him better than anyone else in the Beach.”

“It’s Yamaneko. I’m not a heart player.”

“You give yourself too little credit,” Mira croons.

“This has gone on for too long. We’ll bring in Mr. Yamane for interrogation later.” Ann crosses her arms. “Hatter, should we adjourn?”

Unsettling feelings pool in Yamaneko’s gut, staring blankly ahead as the meeting ends. She brings her hands to her face, groaning as a wave of tension wrapped itself around her head, and feeling vaguely nauseous. Aguni approaches his underling, his frown deeper than usual, betraying the sliver of concern he feels for the girl.

“How do you plan to deal with this?”

Yamaneko shakes her head, and hangs it low. “I honestly don’t know. My relationship with father is strained, but I still can’t wrap my head around the possibility of him being a serial killer of some sort.”

“You’ve experienced his cruelty first hand, am I right? Trust your own experiences with him.”

The chief’s words make her look him in the eye, a wordless understanding forming between the two.

“I’ll seek you out when I decide what to do, chief.”

Aguni nods and leaves without another word. Lover close by, the younger militant retreats to the rooftop, where no one can bother the two of them. In silence, Takatora observes her. Across the horizon, the sun is slowly setting, and the sky is painted with hues of pinks and oranges.

“I’m going to go on a game with my father,” Yamaneko finally says, eyes fixed on the setting sun.

“I’ll come with you,” her lover replies, bumping shoulders with her. The shorter militant sighs, scratching her head. “You can’t, Tora.”

“He’ll hurt you.”

His sight doesn’t leave her as she stands up to pace around. “Father’s afraid of you, I can tell. He wouldn’t dare to interact with me if you’re around. I have to do this alone.”

“Just settle for the other solution. My method.”

“I want to hear it from his mouth. I want to see him shoot his own damn foot. I need that satisfaction, Takatora.” She sits back down, and holds his hand, fingers entwined with his spindly ones. “If my method fails, let’s use yours.”

Cold fingers touching her face, Takatora turns her head and kisses her. It was short, and uncharacteristically tender. “You’re worried,” Yamaneko breathes, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on her lips. “I’m your wildcat, tiger. A frumpy old man doesn’t stand a chance against me.”

This time, Takatora kisses her with more hunger, his hand leaving hers to cradle her neck. “I’ll come to your game venue as soon as I’m finished with mine.”

His lover breaks the kiss to whisper something in his ear, chin resting on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The heavens are a deep blue now, the sun gone.

“I’ll go tell the chief about the plan so he can inform the other executives,” Yamaneko mumbles, watching the clouds roll by.

Another night of games are about to begin.

As Yamaneko enters the elevator to descend to the lobby, a tan hand holds the doors open. HInata steps in, keeping a safe distance between herself and the woman armed with tactical daggers.

“Hey.” Hinata tosses something to her, and the militant catches it. “You left those in the back earlier.” Yamaneko’s body went rigid as she looked at the item; her packet of birth control.

She missed several days.

“I- thanks.”

Yamaneko couldn’t pay any attention to what the other girl is saying as paranoia gets the best of her.

“Surely, I’ve been feeling tired for the past few days because of the chief knocking me on my ass during training and not because Tora knocked me up, right? I’m nauseous during the car ride because Tatta wasn’t driving carefully, right? I’ve been feeling emotional because of the stress from the Beach serial killer case and the big possibility of father being that nutcase, right?”

“Right?”

“Hey, um, are you there?”

Hinata’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and she clears her throat. “What did you say again?”

“I said thanks for getting Niragi off my back.” Hinata scratches her head. “Look, um, I know you’re one of them, but you’re alright. Say, what if we work out a deal of some sort?”

“What kind of deal, newbie?”

“You keep Niragi off my ass, I’ll get you whatever the hell you want. Promise. I’ll be your personal procurement gal.”

Yamaneko chuckles. “Hm. Why the hell not? Hell, come with me in a game tonight. I’m sure I can ask the chief a favor to group you with me. I’ll show you the ropes.” In return, Hinata gives her a genuine smile. “Sure.”

As they walked together to the lobby, Hinata couldn’t help but stare at Yamaneko. She’s short, probably the shortest member of the militia, and her hair’s a mess of uneven cuts at the back. The red highlights on her bangs and fringe are somewhat faded, and her dark makeup looks pristine at the moment, unlike when she found her getting bent over a desk by her boyfriend a few hours earlier.

“If you don’t mind talking about it, how did you end up in the militia?”

“I encountered Last Boss and Niragi in a game and they took an interest in me. I dropped my wallet, they found my address, and they whisked me away.” Yamaneko pauses, looking at HInata with slight concern. “Are you sure you’re ready to hear what I’m about to say about Niragi, though?”

‘You’ve pretty much told me earlier that he’s a sleazeball now. I can take it.”

“Well, I was one of the girls he screwed upon arrival. I just… learned to tolerate it to survive. He stopped touching me after I stopped reacting to him. Or maybe because Last Boss told him that he wanted me to himself. I’m not sure anymore.”

“A-are you really suggesting I just give in and just let him have his way with me?!”

“What the- Of course not. But it’s an option if you want your life on the Beach to get easier. Or maybe you can ask that friend of yours to pretend to be your boyfriend, but I doubt he’s the type of guy Niragi will respect.”

Face contorted in anger and indignation, Hinata stammers. “I don’t know what’s more fucked, that he won’t leave a woman alone unless she’s the girlfriend of someone more dangerous than him, or that you don’t give a shit that Niragi’s-”

When Yamaneko grabs her by the shoulders and slams her against the wall, the other girl is reminded that she’s still an armed and dangerous member of the militia.

“Let’s get a few things straight here: First, I don’t fucking appreciate you putting words in my mouth. Second, I’m just telling you how I survived Niragi. The fact that I accepted your deal is me extending my help. So, don’t push your luck with me, newbie. I can still change my mind about this and throw you to the wolves.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

With that, Yamaneko lets go.

“C’mon, we have a game to play.”

As the slips of paper were being handed out, Last Boss and Yamaneko looked for each other’s eyes across the sea of people, and they gave each other one last look of longing as they went on with their respective groups for the night.

Yamaneko and Hinata receive their assignment, and the former’s face lights up when she sees Sunohara approaching. Silently, she thanks Aguni for heeding her favor of letting her choose her teammates tonight. The chief knows she has a plan. Not long after, Mr. Yamane approaches, glances at his daughter, and turns away, entering the back of the car.

Intentionally, Yamaneko sits in the back as well, while Sunohara rides shotgun, the wind tousling her chestnut bob, with Hinata on the wheel. The car ride is tense and quiet, wind howling as the car speeds through the empty streets of Tokyo.

Nervous, with beads of sweat on her forehead, Yamaneko felt nauseous again, rolling down the window to hurl.

“You alright?” the doctor asks, looking at her through the rear view mirror. Yamaneko nods and leans back on the car seat, keeping her head tilted upwards. From the corner of his eye, Mr. Yamane watches his estranged daughter, expression inscrutable.

The car screeches to a halt as they arrive at their destination: Tokyo Zoo.

Yamaneko regards the place, solemn expression on her face.

Her childhood days weren't always filled with hurtful words and beatings. On some days, on the off chance that Mr. Yamane took a day off, he’d bring her with her mother and sister here. But that all halted when he took his father’s place as CEO. Still, Yamaneko thinks the glimpses of familial happiness doesn’t outweigh the horrible things he did to little Minami, Mai, and his deceased wife.

“Of course this just had to be the fucking venue,” she thinks, slamming the car door shut.

One by one, the Beach members picked up the smartphones from the table, facial recognition registering them as participants, and followed the arrows to the game arena.

The synthetic voice most people dreaded breaks the silence. “Registration closed. There are currently four players. Difficulty: Six of Hearts.”

“Another Heart? Just my luck,” Sunohara sighs, rubbing her arms with her palms. Yamaneko inhales deeply, eyeing the new girl, then her father. “Ever played a Heart before, Hinata?” the militant asks her.

“No.”

“Then you’re in for a lesson.”

The doctor takes out a cigarette from her coat and lights it up, visibly anxious. “Heart games play with your heart and mess with your head. They’re the nastiest games out there.”

Judging the Beach veterans’ reactions, Hinata knew she was in deep shit. Mr. Yamane looks visibly distressed too, sweat beading on his balding head and soaking his dress shirt.

On a circular table are four snake tanks, the glass covered by an opaque fabric so the inside isn’t visible to the viewer, with a hole large enough for a hand to fit in on top. In the middle of the table is a syringe, a vial of unknown substance, and a scalpel.

“Game: Antidote. Rules: Two out of four boxes contain a live Gloydius blomhoffii, better known as the mamushi, one of the most venomous snakes in Japan. Each player must simultaneously stick a hand in a box and keep it in for five seconds. Players who haven’t been bitten by the snake must decide who deserves the antidote. Time limit: None.”

A hiss coming from the direction of the boxes is enough to confirm that they do indeed contain live snakes. The echo of the arena makes it hard to determine from which boxes it came from.

“Fuck. Fuck this,” Hinata mutters, legs shaking.

“Don’t tell me you’re running away,” Yamaneko quips. “You have a better chance of surviving if you stick your hand in as opposed to getting struck down by a laser.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Mr. Yamane interrupts, choosing a box of his own. “Stop stalling and get your hands in.”

Rolling her eyes, Yamaneko drags Hinata to the box beside her, and she takes her spot as well. Sunohara gets ready as hell, psyching herself up as she rolled up her coat’s sleeves.

“On three,” the doctor says. “One, two, three!”

All participants stick their respective hands in. Yamaneko chose her left arm, given how it’s in poor shape in comparison to her right one, and she tries to make her movement as slow as possible. Maybe the snake wouldn’t bite her if she doesn’t disturb it.

Unfortunately for her, Mr. Yamane exclaims as he feels fangs pierce his skin, and the snake in Yamaneko’s box gets startled as well, its teeth sinking into the flesh of her forefinger.

Heart hammering in her chest, Yamaneko pulls her hand out from the box and curses as she sees a droplet of blood on her finger. “Shit! Why the hell did you have to scream like that?!”

The ex-CEO hisses. “Shut up! You never learn your lesson, do you? Still talking to your father like that, have some respect!”

At the revelation that the two are related, Hinata’s eyes widened. “He’s your father?”

“Yes. We’re not exactly on good terms, as you can see,” Yamaneko sighs, trying to squeeze the venom from her finger. Sunohara strides to the table, retrieving the medical supplies. Then, the doctor touches the militia woman’s hand to stop her. “Don’t. Squeezing it would only make it spread. It needs to be excised, and then we need to inject you with anti-venom.”

A coarse hand grabs the doctor’s arm, causing her to gasp in pain. Mr. Yamane is giving the tall woman a furious glare. “Wait a damn minute! You sound like you’ve already decided to give her the antidote. What about me?! Huh? You’re a doctor of some sort, right? Who gives you the right to decide-”

HInata separates him from the doctor, her stance defensive. “Are you seriously going to let your own kid die so you can live? What kind of father are you?!” the tan-skinned girl exclaims in disbelief.

“Probably the type who kills people to advance his Beach tag,” Yamaneko quips, putting her own game into motion.

“Says the woman who brandishes daggers and gives her pussy away to murderers,” Mr. Yamane barked back. “You’ll be wasting the antidote if you give it to someone like her. I have a decent daughter and an infant son to come back to in the real world! Give the antidote to me!”

“Oh my God, you know you’re not helping your case at all by calling her those awful things, right?” Hinata quips, both hands on her hips.

A bitter laugh bubbles from Yamaneko’s throat, underscored with light pain as her hand starts to swell from the snake venom. “But the daughter in front of you doesn’t deserve to live? Tell me father, who else didn’t deserve to live?” Voice cracking, Yamaneko is screaming at that point. “We know it’s you. You killed those people in the Beach. You’re so desperate to go back to your cushy life as CEO, huh?!”

“You know what? Fine, it was me! You know I’d do anything to survive, Minami. That’s what I taught you as well!”

As the venom spreads through their system, the estranged father daughter pair escalates their quarrel, with the daughter striding towards the father to grab him by the collar.

“And yet you judged me for doing what I can to survive when you kicked me out. You judged me for getting caught giving men your age handjobs and blowjobs under the table. You judged me for stealing when I had nothing else.” Head spinning and tears pooling in the corner of her eyes, Yamaneko’s voice completely breaks as she utters a cry.

“You turned Mai against me. You poisoned your children against each other. You don’t deserve to be called a father.”

A slim, gentle hand pulls her away from the old man. Sunohara is giving her a sympathetic look. “We don’t have much time. Hinata and I decided you should get the antidote. You won’t be out of the woods yet after we administer the antivenom, too, so let’s move.”

The ex-heiress lets go of the Yamacorp CEO, cathartic, laughing and crying at the same time.

When she looked down as she tried to walk, however, the smile disappeared from her face. Blood stains her thighs, and the crotch of her bikini feels warm and wet. “This is embarrassing,” she croaks, and Sunohara merely chuckles at her predicament as she sits her down. Hinata stays right beside her new friend, if she can call Yamaneko that, offering her a shoulder to lean on.

Antivenom fills the syringe as Sunohara extracted it from the bottle. “Let’s administer the antidote, and I’ll get you some pads for your period when we get back on the Beach, huh? Maybe we can get help for your fa-”

Whatever Sunohara was about to say was replaced by a scream as she watched Mr. Yamane charged towards them with a dagger.

Deranged, delirious, Mr. Yamane stabbed his own daughter with her own weapon, the blade sinking in her gut. Squelching sounds and Yamaneko’s scream of agony echoed in the open space, accompanied by Hinata and Sunohara’s own shrieks of terror. Withdrawing the knife, Mr. Yamane threw it aside, and reached for the antidote.

Before the needle can plunge into his skin, a laser fires from the sky, cutting his life short in an instant.

Wide and wet with tears, Yamaneko’s eyes didn’t leave her father’s as she watched his final moments. Beside her, Hinata is shaking and covered with the militant's blood, while Sunohara is breathing heavily, still in shock.

The gravity of the situation sinks in when Sunohara hears Yamaneko whimper beside her.

“Help me.”

#alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #fanfic: dormouse #oc: minami yamane #oc: zia hinata #oc: lilian sunohara #oc: tsuyoshi yamane #last boss #takatora samura #last boss x oc #takatora samura x oc #suguru niragi #morizono aguni #rizuna an #mira kano #shuntaro chishiya #takeru danma #hikari kuina #kodai tatta #fanfiction #character study