Authors note: This may be a bit weird, but it's from Carrots POV on one of the Misu sisters. Which one? Try guessing before you reach the last line.
Disclaimer: Not mine…bleh bleh bleh.
Warnings: None, really. Just some angsty rantings from our fave pervert. Het and a hint of shonen-ai (Geteau and Marron sighting) but nothing totally major.
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Big Momma, she's cute. All pouting lips, big eyes and curvaceous body, man. And she loves me, too, that's what I find startling. She's been chasing after me for years, since we were children, and she's been beating me ever since her 'restraining' powers with her sisters were found out for my animal changing thing.
Even when I chase after other girls, drooling and howling, she always just fumes and chases after me with that big ass mallet, but I can see the hurt past the clever shields she holds herself behind. I'm not exactly the emotional type, but every time I see the anger and pain in her eyes, framed by those long lashes, I feel a sharp pang of regret in my stomach.
More like a foot in my groin then a mere pang, but by then I'm usually being battered and kicked about, and I don't really remember to feel the pain emotionally because by then she's venting her own on me.
Cut, always cut, blood and bruises, screams and howls. Fur flying, skin peeling, and then I lie, nude, on the cold, hard ground. Throat raw, cut everywhere, and I can hear her laughing. Hear the 'Ohohohohohohohohohoho!' and know she's no longer hurting. And I can be glad that she's not hurting anymore, behind that insane, precise killer, she's not hurting.
Or maybe she is. Maybe her smiling, taunting lips hide a sobbing mouth, maybe her slitted, insane looking eyes hold tears behind glass shields. But I doubt it…I think she only hurts when she isn't Transformed, when her Mask isn't really her.
But she's smiling at me now, across the table at dinner after I finished mauling and scarfing down my own meal. Musclehead and my brother are talking back and forth, some tickling debate about our next targets motives. I can see the light in Marrons eyes when he talks to the ape, how his lips always curl just a bit more upwards, his hands move just slightly more then usual in gestures. And Blondie is just glowing when my little brother is actually responding in a humanly fashion.
That bastard. Stealing my little brother… If he hurts him in any way, I'll kill him. Marron's strong, but I am his big brother after all.
She taps my shoulder, and restates her question. I turn from glaring at Musclebrain and my brother and satiate her probing curiosity. There, she's smiling again, that gentle, rare curling of her small lips. Her sister's glaring at the both of us, loudly proclaiming her to be a half-wit about thinking such-and-such things, and she responds with an indignant scowling.
And so begins another day. Another day of hiding the very un-platonic way I feel towards her, another twenty four hours of chasing after pretty girls and getting shot down, when the only girl I want is her.
Her, the girl I'm not supposed to love, the woman I should refuse from my heart because she's my foster sister, a person I grew up with. I'm not supposed to love her because of how I treat her, and how she gives me physical abuse back in return. I love her as much as Gateau loves my brother, the respect he feels for my little brother.
I know if we ever made love, she'd be gentle. I'd be gentle. She'd love me as much as I love her because she's loved me since I was a child, and I've loved her as a woman since she first transformed. Since she first turned red when her sister made a sarcastic remark about me being 'hers'.
My sarcastic, short, witty, beautifully petite
angel… My Tira.