of She cannot be pireced by a diamond blade. Though she silently bleeds at the efforts of those who hate her. They seek to hurt her, to drink her blood, to find her true weakness. Why she couldn't be touched by the coldest words or the hottest fire. But only one could figure it out. He found her true weakness, but each of her true secrets were a puzzle in itself. Yet he took every second, minute, hour, and day he could, just to figure it out. She hated him for figuring it out. Her planned secrets, the tears and blood she shed just to make it up. She couldn't show it though. He would think he had won her over. He actually thought he could take her. In a million years will he even touch her.
She chuckled at the thought as she drove in her black SUV. He had called her up, claiming he needs a favor. She only conceded to hear his agrument. She wanted to hear those words as his last. She wanted to end him. He knew her secret plan. It could spead to others and make her weak. She wasn't losing her only good label though it still was a crude one, The Toughest Fighter. She needed it, to feel some sort of feeling of love. Even if it was just being a badass. He will never see it happen. The pain would follow him to Hell's Gate. She wanted him to feel the pain she had surging through her every waking minute before he would end. A buzz stirred her from her thoughts and she glanced at her phone. I own you now, Sexycup. She growled at the patheic nickname he dared to make up.
He made his fate sealed, not her, not his family, not the other villians, just him. She couldn't stand his name. So much vemon burned her tongue whenever she said it. It was her second most hated thing other than him himself. The torture caused by him will not be repeated. It'd be recycled to him. A tossed around bomb if you will. Payback well deserved, she thought with digust. She pulled into the grey driveway of a large black glass building. She grabbed her keys and the thing. She needed it to finish him. She slammed her car door leaving a dent. Her angry face evaporated into a cold emotionless one that she had trained to use around him.
She walked into the building ignoring the smoldering steps she took. The burning marble scent wafted to the secretary's desk. She trembled as the raven-haired girl stalked to her with such hate that he loved to watch when it growed. Her pen dropped to the floor as the black-head stood in front of her. "Where is he?" The secretary fliched at the poison dripping off her words. She didn't know who he was. "Who are you?" The young girl cringed at the angry jade eyes. "Buttercup, you dumb bitch!" She yelled at the poor girl. "Ummm," The secretary typed hastily on the computer scanning for her name. "Level 9, Room 607." She replied and embraced for any punches. She didn't feel anything. She opened her eyes and saw that the enraged girl left somethign on her desk. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. What the hell was this thing? He is.. A hiss echoed through the room. Meanwhile, the green-eyed girl cladded in black waited impatiently in the elevator. She already kicked a hole through the floor of the elevator. She snarled at the machine as it opened. She strided out of the silver machine down the beige hallway.
She looked at each door burning holes in the walls with each glare and angried snarls. She stopped in front of a white door labeled 607. She lightly flicked the door, shattering it to pieces. She crumbled the pieces as she walked over them glaring at him. He just sat there with a shit-eating smile and his legs on top of his grey desk. The black and white walls reminded her of a mental alsyum. She had been sent to one as a child. She escaped the hellhole with her shredded aspirations never seeing her despicable family behind. To be truthful one of her secrets was about her family. She bared her teeth at the cocky green boy in front of her. "Who do you think you are?" She hissed narrowing her eyes. "Butch the prize winner. You are the prize, don't you know?" He sneered at the girl. He got up slowly just to tease her with his movements. Her eyes were fixed on him. She didn't like when people actually thought they were superior to her. She was the toughest fighter. It will stay that way.
"I'm not a prize, your words are pitifully meaning less." She stated calmly. He frowned slightly as he walked up to her. "Oh,really? You're evil's prize. You were made for evil, not good." He breathed down her neck. "I have grown past such pitiful boundaries. I'm not good, nor evil. I choose what label I want. And I have choosen." She hissed into his ear. She had choosen her label already. And he thought he could take it? Such an idiotic puppet. Just like his brothers. They were played like cards each time being the last resort. They were just useless toys that haven't been thrown away. Almost like her, but atleast she had won battles. She was used at disposal yet she was defeated all of the emeny before the real army touched the ground.
"So, you are a," He stopped, so he could see that impaient glint in her mint-colored eyes that he loved so. "Dark Angel?" He smirked. She smirked back and snarled back, "I suppose so." She disappeared and reappeared behind him and kicked him. He fell foward with a 'Omph!" and smirked. "Whatever you are, I still need my prize." She didn't move from her spot. Her face was contorted into a gaze of superioty. He just turned and pursed his lips at the silence. "Butterbutt, I need it." Still she looked unto him as if he was gabarge. "I need you." She stepped forward twice letting the klink-klack of her black high-heeled boots echo off the walls. A thron stuck out of her ankle glowing a dark green. She sighed full of new relief. Large feathery wings spread out in a onyx color. White fangs sprouted from her mouth as she smiled calmly. He smirked at her so freely releasing her secret. "Ya gonna kill me like you did with Bubbles and Blossom? Like Professor? Like your family? I know you want to give me the prize." She smiled at the mention of her family's death. One of her favorite moments. Their cries and wails made her laugh in joy.
The last she saw of them was their bloody, mangled corpses that made her smile. She walked to the black-haired boy and leaned down towards his face. She gave him a wary look and smirked at him. He looked like the cat got the cream. She closed the space between them and lifted him up by his collar. He nibbled on her bottom lip awaiting for enterance. She eagerly accepted his enterance. They wrestled for control and finally she gave up control. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she slung her arms across his neck. Her wings wrapped around them entrapping them together. She pushed him closer to the back wall and put her legs around his hips. He pulled her closer and gripped her harder.
She, unknown by him, kicked the glass wall making it disintergrate. He took a step back and fell into the grey,rainy sky. He didn't notice being too preoocipied with her. She smirked on his lips. She jerked her tongue back into her mouth and bite down on his tongue. She tasted the sweet blood as she bit down harder. She stretched out her wings and threwn back her head. His tongue came out as blood dripped from his mouth. He smirked at his own blood and at her. She looked down and smirked. She pushed herself off of him. She flapped her wings floating above his still falling body, smiling. She spat out his tongue into her hand. She smirked and impaled it on the thorn. She licked her lips clean of the red liquid. Thud! His body hit the pale grey ground. The rain splashed on his flesh wounds cleaning them of dirt and rocks gathered from the fall. His neck was freshly pierced by a sharp rock. His blood still flowed freely from his mouth. His forest green eyes were shot open in a glorified look. She smirked. It was agiven they'd end each other as children. But she let that oppinunity grow into their adulthood.
Still it was agiven and she wasn't going to change anything. It still ended as it should have. She walked away with wings folded in and fangs put back. She still walked away in the misty rain with the thorn around her ankle glowing a dark green with his dried blood and flesh still upon it. It was agiven.
Me: I was inspired by well I forget the author, hmmmm. Review and such, please. You can get a hug from Butch, though he will be dead... just kidding! Well, about the dead part. I don't own Powerpuffs or Rowdyruffs.
Buttercup: And if you don't review, *smiles*, you DIE! Mwhahahahha!
Butch: Mwhahahaha! Wait, why am I dead?