I'M WORKING ON CHAINS I SWEAR.
KINDA.
Personally I think valentines is a mediocre holiday made only for those shitty vermont teddy bears.
So, late Valentine-themed fanfic cause you know what,
imma mofo.
PS.
Miku Hatsune - Joker.
This was going to be a fun choice.
He wore a red dress shirt, pinstripe vest slightly tight.
Black dress pants and a superhero-sidekick kind of mask.
The canines of a shark glistening as his lips bore a sly smile.
A fine 'antique' teak peice-of-garbage table infront of him.
Playing cards stacked neatly, a cup with dice, several unmatching chairs around.
On one side of his table was a very curious blonde. Hair drawn into pigtails with a fluffy short dress,
colors being of gray, red and tan, a bow around her waist and gray and red striped armwarmers.
Large smokey emeralds catching his eye.
His lips stretched more.
"How bout a game my lady?"
"I don't know how to play."
His smile dropped slightly, he took five cards from his deck.
Four cards parted nicely on the table, he held one card in his hand and showed it to her.
"Find the match to this card, and you get the ring in my pocket."
His smile grew sadistic.
"And if you lose, I get your life."
Her eyes grew wide.
"I-I'll play your game."
A king of hearts.
Her hand reached for the farthest, but went for the one next to it.
Joker.
She lost.
A chuckle was heard.
"Follow me, girl."
He took her hand from over the table and beconned her down an alley.
At the end there was a hole in the brick walls, big enough for someone to fit through, a long rag hung, concealing what was inside.
He nudged her inside as he pushed the rag back slightly.
It was an abandoned building.
Graffiti was everywhere, the building itself looked like an old parking garage.
He made his way towards some stairs, latched to her wrist as he led the way.
They went up a few levels, he stopped at one and opened a very old door, rust around its barings.
On the otherside were black curtains, leading the blond through.
There were black and red tiles, old and dirty. A corner which he had claimed his own, a hole in the wall let the city be seen from his 'cave.'
Some antique chairs and long, gray candle holders decorated his place.
And an old record player that looked like it didn't work was tucked away unter the curtains.
He motioned for her to sit.
She took a step back.
Why am I following him? Can't I just run?
She was about to turn around and bolt until she felt cold steel tickle the back of her neck.
"Why don't you take a seat?"
Tears swelled up as she followed his lead to the chair.
His hand carressed her cheek as the knife was brought to the front of her neck, a sadistic looking smile spread on his face.
The seat smelled like musk, and blood.
"Should you live or should you die?"
Tears streamed down her face.
She felt the foreign feeling of his tounge going along her jawline, soft kisses down her neck.
The knife pressed more against her skin.
"I've decided."
She flinched against the cold metal.
Then air barely returned to her lungs as it was pulled away.
A soft caress of her lips and the feel of his presence made his choice clear.
"Your going to live.
With me.
Maka."