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pinkneonvibes · 26 days ago

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7) ᗰᗩTᑕᕼ, ᗰEET KEᖇOᔕEᑎE {ꜰᴜᴇɢᴏ}

{Previous}

A soft, rhythmic sound like a distant heartbeat pulsed gently in Jackie's mind. Blurrier, bluish-grey wisps drifted above her, blending with the fog that clouded her vision. She blinked, struggling against heavy eyelids. As her surroundings sharpened into focus, she saw she was lying on her back on the roof, partly on the mat and partly on the cold surface. A groan slipped out as her awareness gradually emerged.

What happened? Was I up here all night? The questions echoed nonstop in her mind.

Rolling onto her side, she winced at the crunch of broken glass under her arm. Sticky beer residue clung to her skin, mixing with the metallic taste of blood lingering in her mouth. "Fuck," she hissed as shards pierced her skin. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself onto her hands and knees, shaking her head to clear the fog, only to regret the dizziness that followed.

After the world had stopped spinning, she inhaled shakily and looked around, trying to piece together what had happened the night before. Her phone was broken on the mat nearby, with glass from beer bottles scattered across the floor. She carefully reached for her phone, seeing her reflection in the screen — her busted bottom lip and the bruise stretching across her cheek. Okay, slowly, she told herself, slipping the phone into her pocket as she stood.

Once Jackie had stabilized herself enough, she staggered to the bench, taking a moment to sit, focusing on her breathing and hoping to process everything. Take a sec. You need to chill. She looked to her side. Thankfully, her journal rested there, untouched.

Jackie couldn't remember everything clearly, only brief moments. The memory skipped like a frayed film reel—"Get her up," Mihaela demanded, her face obscured by the darkness of her hoodie. Jackie tried to force her mind to complete the puzzle of events: Mihaela's bo staff pressing against her chin, the sharp pain as she was forced to her knees, and the laughter reverberating in her ears. The shame over being overpowered gnawed at her.

That bitch. Jackie fumed as the images continued to surface, slowly taking shape in her mind. Shattering glass rang out alongside the cracks and thuds of bo staves, each sound a painful reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. Harsh words echoed in her ears, kicks to the gut left her breathless, and the mockery as everything around her was wrecked. "This is your last warning." Mihaela knelt in front of her, a menacing figure looming. "Pack your shit and go home." Jackie flailed in their grip in desperation as Mihaela stood, wound up, and swung.

The sun rose higher on the horizon, illuminating the clouds in pinks and oranges, but Jackie felt too numb to truly appreciate the view. She forced herself back up, journal in hand, and carefully gripped the railing as she moved toward the stairwell. Each step brought new aches, and she winced, unaware of the glass splinters embedded in her arm.

Anxiety crashed over her as she reached for the door handle. Their rooms were nearby. What if they heard her? Three against one again when she was as weak as she was at that moment. She pushed the door open carefully and made her way down. The last thing she needed was to fall down the stairs off balance. She leaned against the wall, choking back a sob from the glass digging further into her flesh.

Jackie held her breath, steadying her hands as she slipped the key into her door. She closed it softly behind her with a click and sank to sit on the floor, her back against the door, palms flat on the cold tile. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her bottom lip trembling. She drifted into a daze, fluttering her eyes open again as the room brightened further. C'mon, get up.

Jackie used the doorknob to pull herself up, trying to gather herself. Pain. Something for the pain. She made her way to the kitchen and flung open the cabinet by the fridge where she kept her medicine. She took four ibuprofen pills and drank water straight from the sink, letting it dribble down her chin. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, noticing that the blood on her arm was already reaching her wrist.

Steadying herself with a hand along the wall to reach the bathroom, she turned on the shower. As the water heated, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Blood stained the front of her shirt, a welt was forming on her temple, and dried blood streaked down from her lip. Mihaela's gonna look so much worse once I'm finished with her.

Jacke grabbed tweezers, stepped into the shower, and sat on the floor. Water ran over her. Blood, dirt, and beer spiraled down the drain. As she worked to remove shards from her skin, choppy memories of the attack flooded her mind, echoing in her ears. Rage boiled inside her, fueling her determination. One recurring thought pushed her forward: I'm not missing this fight.

Feng shifted in his bed, still feeling the fog of last night's overindulgence. Despite that, his night with Jackie on the dojo's roof played back, every detail clear. Jackie's carefree laughter, hauntingly refusing to fade, stayed as an uninvited memory.

He rubbed his temple, trying to clear the dull buzz clouding his judgment. Being vulnerable makes you weak, he told himself, to strengthen his defenses. But Jackie, effortlessly enough, had begun to chip away at those defenses.

The image of her standing on the mat, the moment her insecurities surfaced while the lantern light softly highlighted her features, stayed with him. When he told her she wasn't disappointing, he truly believed it, seeing so much more in her than she saw herself, and that realization scared him.

He crossed boundaries—professional and ethical ones. Still, Jackie's resilience and determination drew him in. Jackie had changed significantly in just a few months, growing beyond the kid he had decided to take a chance on. What's wrong with you? She's too young to know better. Too fucking dangerous.

Feng sat up, fingers tracing the beaded Shaolin necklace on his nightstand—a tangible reminder of discipline and boundaries. What would his Sensei say about these feelings? About a 23-year-old mentor developing something... complicated for a student?

The weight of his thoughts became suffocating. He needed a distraction to break the cycle of overthinking, to reset, and to remind himself of who he truly was—a fighter, a winner. Not a sorry excuse of a man hung up over a schoolboy crush. He grabbed his phone, his thumb hovering over his contacts, stopping at an acquaintance who represented everything uncomplicated—no strings, no emotions. Meili. It's been a while.

He sent her a text, and Meili called back immediately. Perfect. A smirk tugged at his lips as he let it ring a few times before answering, already planning how to use this encounter to force Jackie out of his mind.

"Hey. Yeah? I'll be right over," he said, maintaining his tone deliberately casual despite the fleeting doubt that nagged at him. Maybe this is a mistake. But he pushed the thought aside with practiced ease, reminding himself that he always did what he needed to do.

Feng got out of bed, opened the curtains, and started preparing for the day. The mid-morning sunlight streaming through the mansion's windows highlighted his luxurious surroundings—a symbol of his wealth and success. However, as he wandered through his home, casually inspecting the lavish decor and spacious rooms, a sense of emptiness began to bother him. A grandeur that felt hollow and cold sharply contrasted with the warmth he secretly longed for.

Once he was ready to go, he headed to the front door and quickly got into his car. The drive to his destination was short, but his thoughts drifted back to Jackie. He imagined her embarrassed smile, her eyes shining when he brushed her hair out of her face. Shit. Not again. Focus.

Feng parked his car, tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, then got out and went to the door. He rang the bell, which was answered almost immediately by a woman with deep mahogany eyes and raven-black hair. She gave a seductive smile and stepped aside, inviting him into her stylish, modern penthouse.

A faint sense of relief washed over him as he stepped through the door. Meili took his hand and led him into her bedroom. Feng had a few hours to drown out Jackie from his mind. Still, as he followed Meili, the tightness in his chest persisted, constantly reminding him that he might never fully escape his feelings.

As Jackie stepped downstairs into the dojo, the atmosphere instantly sparked with energy. Students moved around, some whispering, others giving her wary glances. Jackie felt the weight of their stares—a mix of curiosity and judgment. They still think I don't belong here, but she stood taller, pushing the feeling down—time to prove them wrong.

Zara and Axel approached to greet her, noticing her slightly disheveled appearance as they got closer. "Hey, Jackie... You alright?" Zara looked her up and down, eyes wide, seeing the gash on her mouth.

"What happened?" Axel asked, placing a hand on her shoulder as he looked at her face.

Jackie ignored their questions, her eyes fixed on Mihaela and Jian across the room. Their sinister smirks hinted they thought she was now an easy target. But Jackie squared her shoulders, ready to show them otherwise.

Axel and Zara looked over their shoulders, following Jackie's gaze. "Jackie, what happened?" Axel asked again. "What did they do?"

"Don't worry about it," she snapped, brushing past them without a glance. Marching over to the mat, her heart pounding in sync with the throbbing in her head. Zara and Axel were confused but followed close behind, ready to back her up if needed.

"Wow," Mihaela taunted with a disdainful chuckle. "Rough night, Rojas?"

Jackie sensed the contempt coming from her. Esta cabrona won't know what hit her. Jackie clenched her fists, itching to flatten Mihaela out where she stood.

"I knew you were stupid, Jackie," Mihaela laughed right in her face. "But this takes it to a whole new level."

Jackie shoved her, adrenaline rushing. "See how much you laugh after I break your fucking jaw."

"That's enough, Rojas." Jackie hadn't noticed that Sensei Wolf had already entered the dojo, his presence commanding. The girls straightened up, and the other students dispersed, sensing the tension in the air. Jackie and Mihaela moved to the center of the mat without being told.

He noticed Jackie was tense, staring ahead, trying to hide whatever she kept bottled up inside. That's when his eyes moved to her injured bottom lip. When did that happen? He had to shake it off mentally; now wasn't the time to bring it up.

"Whatever issue you have with each other," Feng's voice interrupted the noise. "It gets settled now," he ordered, looking between the two and backing away. "No holding back. You finish it."

Jackie cracked her neck and knuckles, her Sensei's words fueling her raging inner fire. Oh, this bitch is finished. Trust that.

Jackie's adrenaline surged as the match started. She charged at Mihaela, throwing punches meant to cause maximum damage. Each strike reignited the pain and humiliation from the night before. Mihaela skillfully dodged Jackie's initial attacks, but Jackie remained relentless. She pushed forward, fists pounding into Mihaela's torso, each punch fueled by past assaults and unchecked anger.

The force of Jackie's punches shook Mihaela, who stumbled back, momentarily caught off guard by her ferocity. Mihaela glanced toward Jian with worried eyes just as Jackie's fist connected with her left eye, producing a satisfying thud. Mihaela covered her face, stumbling into a defensive stance. Jackie retreated, arms at her sides, pacing like a lioness ready to tear into her prey.

"Take all the time you need," Jackie spat, her voice thick with sarcasm. "We've got a long way to go before I'm done with you."

Wow. Jackie's pissed. Feng noticed the fire driving her impressive determination—if only it were more refined, she could be a champion. However, her movements had minor stumbles and a noticeable sway of imbalance, clearly reflecting her emotional state.

Suddenly, Mihaela charged at Jackie, but Jackie swept her to the ground. Mihaela rolled away as Jackie's missed strikes hit the mat. Mihaela kicked toward Jackie's face. Jackie blocked, but Mihaela connected with a kick to her stomach. Jackie fell onto her back, slapping the mat with her palms as she scrambled back to her feet.

The two exchanged a flurry of hits and blocks. Jackie pulled back and delivered a sharp headbutt, which blurred her vision. Luckily, she had a little time to recover as Mihaela dropped down.

"Get up, puta!" Jackie grabbed Mihaela by the back of her gi, almost tossing her across the mat to force her to stand. "You're not gettin' off that easy."

Mihaela's eyes widened. Jackie resumed her assault, using her elbows and knees up close until Mihaela could no longer defend herself and finally collapsed, winded. Jackie pounced, climbing onto her and pinning her down. Her vision narrowed, focused on Mihaela's face as Jackie balled her fists and swung. All the pain in her body only heightened her rage, and she fought through the haze of adrenaline.

Stop, Jackie, stop! I'm sorry!" Mihaela sobbed shakily.

"Not yet, you aren't," Jackie growled, continuing her assault, unsatisfied with Mihaela's punishment.

Jackie was the clear winner, but the fight ended when Jian intervened. He rushed in and knocked Jackie off her feet. He quickly checked to see if Mihaela was okay, but Jackie's instincts took over before he could evaluate her. Jackie lunged at Jian, tackling him and launching a fierce flurry of fists and elbows. Two people then pulled her away.

Axel stood in front of Jian, who looked both surprised and defensive, as Feng grabbed Jackie's arm to separate them.

"Let me go!" Jackie shouted, struggling against Feng's grip, eager to get back to pummeling Jian. He pulled away further to reduce the chance of her attacking him again.

"Calm down," Feng said as he stepped in front of her to block her view of Jian.

Jackie's eyes flashed angrily as she pulled away from Feng's grasp. "Don't tell me to calm down!" she barked back with a wild fury in her eyes, throwing her hands up. "They fucking jumped me on the roof last night!"

Then it clicked. The wound on her lip, her sweat erasing the hastily applied makeup, hiding the bruises on her face. Feng turned around and locked eyes with Jian, who maintained a fearful expression, still leaning down by Mihaela. I need to get this under control. He faced Jackie again. "Go wait in the office," he said, his tone sharp.

Jackie wasn't listening to him, her chest heaving as she stared at Jian, who was still trying to steady himself. Just wait till I get my hands on you.

"Rojas," Feng snapped his fingers a few times in front of her face to snap her out of her trance. "Office. Now."

Jackie hesitated, her anger clashing with his commanding tone. She wanted to argue, to push back, but the weight of his gaze kept her silent, a reminder of her proper role in the dojo despite the mixed feelings she had for him.

"Fine," she spat, her voice low, the fight draining from her. She spun around and stormed off, her head swimming from anger and confusion at being singled out, the tension in the air growing thick.

As she turned to leave, Feng watched her go with a scowl, making sure she obeyed him. He then went back to the dojo, his expression growing even more intense.

Jackie went up the stairs. She had fought hard to prove herself, but the aftermath of the fight made her feel like her insecurities were exposed for all to see.

Downstairs, the dojo was quiet except for Mihaela's sniffles. Jian helped her up as the other students shifted nervously around the mat, anxious about what might come next after the recent chaos. They avoided eye contact with each other and especially with their Sensei, who stood at the front of the class, visibly upset.

"Line up," Feng commanded, his voice echoing off the walls. The students exchanged nervous glances but obeyed—a murmur of shame spread through the group. Feng's gaze hardened as he continued.

"Someone better start talking," he demanded, his voice low and dangerous, leaving no room for defiance.

In the office, Jackie leaned against the desk, her breathing ragged. The adrenaline from the fight still energized her, but it was gradually fading, replaced by a deep anxiety that burned in her stomach. Her perception of time felt fuzzy. She became uncomfortably hot and peeled off the top half of her gi, tossing it onto an office chair, before adjusting her black sleeveless compression shirt.

Feng opened the door with a serious look. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," she muttered, staring out the window, barely able to get the words out.

Feng moved closer, fighting the concern that threatened to break through his guarded exterior, to her freshly exposed arm, where she had three large bandages. All these injuries weren't there last night. He realized he should have made sure she was back in her apartment before he left.

His eyes quickly looked over the bruises on her face, then moved to her freshly exposed arm, which had three large bandages. All of these injuries weren't there last night. He realized he should have made sure she was safe back in her apartment before he left for home.

He slammed the door behind him, with the sound echoing through the large office. "Why didn't you tell me what was going on with them?" he demanded, his voice sharp and accusatory.

Jackie crossed her arms, defiance clear on her face. "It was under control—"

"Obviously not," Feng snapped, cutting her off before she could say anything more.

Jackie opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted again.

"You're lucky you're not in the hospital or worse!" Feng began to pace, moving his hands to emphasize his words.

"I get—" she attempted to speak, but he ignored her.

"I need to know what happens in my dojo!" Feng moved closer, stalking forward.

Jackie's voice trembled with frustration as she shouted, "Are you gonna let me talk, or am I just your punching bag?"

As they stared each other down, the room grew cold, and the warmth Jackie once shared with him disappeared. Her mind raced with doubt: You imagined it. He doesn't care about you. Why would he?

Alright, shut up for a second. Let her speak. Feng set his hands on his hips and waited.

"It wasn't a problem anymore, till last night," she said.

"That's still no excuse to keep it to yourself!"

"Oh sure," Jackie rolled her eyes, anger bubbling. "Run and tell you 'cause I can't stand up for myself? Pobresita Jackie, just like everyone else thinks of me, right?"

"Damn it, Jackie, I would have handled it before it got worse! There has to be some level of trust here."

"Fuck that," she scoffed. "I don't need anyone to take care of me."

Feng clenched his jaw and stepped back, struggling to control his anger. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not your friend. I'm your Sensei. Show some respect."

"Chingate," Jackie snapped back.

"I understand Spanish, too!"

"Fantastic! Saves me the trouble of translating!" she pushed off the desk. Dizziness overtook her, and she stumbled slightly, gripping the desk for support. "Whoa..."

Feng moved to her side, gripping her arm to steady her, his anger giving way to concern. "Take it easy."

"I'm good," Jackie insisted, holding her head with one hand and waving him off with the other, though her voice wavered.

"Oh yeah? So you didn't almost fall over?" He held onto her, guiding her to the sofa. "Sit."

"I'm just a little lightheaded, okay?" Jackie resisted but eventually sat down. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Feng headed back to his desk, leaned against it, and grabbed his phone, quickly scrolling through it. "You just got hit in the head multiple times, and now you're lightheaded. That's not something to ignore."

"Oh, c'mon. It's prob'ly just the hangover," Jackie said, trying to downplay her symptoms. "Just get me some water or somethin'."

Feng shot back, his tone flat. "Right. Because water will fix a concussion," while rolling his eyes and dialing a number. "You need to get checked out."

"Seriously?" she grumbled. "You're overreacting."

"'Overreacting,' says the one with insane mood swings and about to pass out. Do you want me to list the rest of the symptoms I've seen from you?"

"When did you become a doctor?" Jackie sighed, rubbing her temples. "Whatever, just make it quick. Don't know what I'd do with myself if I missed the next round of dojo drama."

Feng glanced at her, both amused and frustrated. "You're unbelievable."

"Pft, you like it, don't lie," she smirked.

"Like it? More like I'm stuck with it," he muttered, though a faint smile appeared in his eyes as he continued talking on the phone, arranging for someone to check on her.

As he spoke, Jackie sank further into the chair, with the adrenaline from the fight gradually fading. She observed him, noting his brow furrowed in concentration, and for a moment, their heated exchange felt like a distant memory.

"He'll be here as soon as possible," Feng said, ending the call. He placed his phone down, went to the mini fridge near his desk, and grabbed an ice pack. Still not soon enough.

Jackie smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "So, do I get a pass to eat a gallon of ice cream tonight?"

"Just be thankful I'm here to save you from yourself," he retorted as he walked toward her.

"Sure," she drawled, "'cause you're so chivalrous and all," she said with a roll of her eyes, but couldn't hide the small smile forming at the corners of her lips.

"Not even close," Feng shook his head. He sat beside her, gently pressing the ice pack to her cheek, maintaining a slight distance while resting his other arm on the back of the sofa. Jackie winced but didn't pull away. He noticed she was straining to keep her eyes open and probably couldn't stay upright much longer.

"Just relax, huǒ yàn. You're not invincible," he said, his tone firm yet gentle.

"I'm tougher than you think," she responded, her voice softening as she relaxed into the seat. The room seemed to spin again. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned her head back onto the sofa.

"Don't fall asleep, okay?" he whispered, trying to stay at a respectful distance. Every nerve and muscle in his body protested against his mind to close the gap between them.

Jackie felt her eyelids grow heavy. "Mmm... I'm trying," she murmured, lifting her head forward to comply, but the movement made her slightly nauseous. Without thinking, Jackie lowered her head again, this time resting it on Feng's shoulder.

Feng tensed as he felt her weight pressing against him. He tried to shift slightly to create some space, but Jackie scooted her body closer, even as sleep tugged at her. Girl, you're killing me.

He knew she was disoriented and probably not intentionally leaning on him. Reluctantly, he gently wrapped his arm around her to support her, moving the ice pack to her temple instead. His body stayed stiff, resisting the closeness of the moment. Okay. Keep it together. She needs you right now.

"I feel like shit," she mumbled, though her words slurred as she tasted a metallic flavor in her mouth. His shoulder was warm against her cheek, offering a comforting presence that made her want to stay close.

So do I. Feng swallowed hard, unease twisting in his gut from trying to push thoughts of her away that morning—with someone else. Now, with her nestled against him, his heartbeat quickened. He cleared his throat, his voice softening as he struggled to keep himself in check. "You know... I've never seen someone fight through a concussion as fiercely as you did today. You refused to let it break you.

Jackie's breathing became steady, a slight smile forming on her lips. Feng paused, every instinct torn between professional pride and something more profound. Finally, as if weighing each word, he whispered, "If anyone deserved the win today—after everything you've gone through, it was you."

Jackie leaned in, pressing her forehead against his collar. "Learned from the best," she hummed, somewhat teasing.

Feng's heart ached with a mix of pride and guilt; the fact that Jackie thought so highly of him only made everything worse. He gently squeezed her shoulder, silently accepting her compliment, fearing that speaking might reveal too much. He relaxed into the peaceful moment with her, even if just for a little while.

As the knock sounded, Jackie's head was still resting on him. She remained completely unaware of their surroundings.

"Jackie, wake up," Feng gently shook her shoulder, trying to wake her without startling her.

Jackie stirred, fluttering her eyes open briefly before closing them again. "I'm tired..." she murmured to him, heavily exhausted.

"I know," Feng sighed. Before answering the door, he tossed the ice pack onto the end table next to the sofa, then carefully helped Jackie sit up and steady herself.

"Don't move," he instructed calmly. "I'll be right back."

He stood up and walked to the door, letting the medic inside. Axel and Zara waited in the hallway.

"How is she?" Zara asked, concern clear on her face.

"We'll find out," Feng responded, opening the door wider for the pair to step in, appreciating their willingness to stand up for Jackie like they did.

The medic placed his bag on the floor near the sofa, kneeling beside Jackie to check her vitals. She fought to keep her eyes open, with each blink a challenge.

The medic gently pressed the welt on Jackie's cheek, causing discomfort. Then he tilted her head back, examining her pupils. Stop moving my head, pendejo. Jackie was done, ready to get to her bed and lie down, but she kept her mouth shut for the next few minutes so he could do his job.

"It's a mild concussion," he told Feng as he packed his bag and stood up. "Keep an eye on her for 24 hours. No karate for 5 to 7 days. Take her to the hospital if she gets any worse."

"I can stay with her," Zara offered as she approached the sofa, sat down next to Jackie, and took her hand.

Aw, didn't know Z could be sweet.

"Me too," Axel said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall while watching Jackie.

Feng gave them an approving nod and thanked his medic friend as he departed.

Feng knelt before Jackie, bringing himself to her eye level. She sensed his gaze, even though he still hid behind his stoic mask. It made her feel vulnerable.

"Get some rest, Jackie. Can't have my captain in such a sorry state, can I?"

Jackie smiled as Axel and Zara helped her up and started guiding her to the door.

"Damn, from Ms. America to Captain America," Jackie chuckled weakly. "I'm really moving up in the world."

Axel and Zara chuckled softly, getting the joke, while Feng just shook his head as the trio exited his office.

When the door shut, Feng exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He walked to the shelf behind his desk, poured himself a shot of whiskey, then sat in his chair.

His phone began to chime, so he lifted it—three texts from Meili.

So much for avoiding 'complicated'...

-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·° 火 °·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.-

𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖! 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕕𝕠 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕟, 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕛𝕠𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕤, 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤. 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥. 𝕀 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥.

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥, 𝕒𝕤 𝕀'𝕞 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕚𝕔 𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕥 𝟝𝟜𝟠 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕤 𝕠𝕟 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕡𝕒𝕕, 𝕤𝕠 𝟝𝟜𝟠 𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕖 𝕙𝕦𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 😍💞

𝕋𝕚𝕝 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖, 𝕞𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤!

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pinkneonvibes · 26 days ago

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ᴍᴀ'ᴀʟ ᴋᴜ'ᴜx | ᴄᴏʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ · ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ

Who's writing a fanfic about a character no one wants to read a fanfic about? Me, that's who, 'cause I'm a sucker for an underdog.

🖤 For the Shirai Ryu 💛

⚠️Content Warning 🚧

•Violence •Strong Language •Substance use

Ain't No Party Like a Red Dragon Party

The neon lights of the sprawling, rundown warehouse bar flickered, casting a sickly glow over the crowd of misfits and rebels. Graffiti-covered walls told stories of battles fought and lost, remnants of a city that had surrendered to crime and violence.

Smoke hung thick in the air, mingling with the scent of stale beer and sweat, while the relentless beat of heavy metal pulsed like a heartbeat, pumping the blood of the depravity that filled the room. This was the heart of the Red Dragon's territory, a place where loyalty was bought and sold, and survival always came with a price.

Cole Young stood at the back, his eyes locked on the stage, heart pounding not just from the music but from the weight of his mission. What if this isn't enough to protect them? The thought of his wife, Allison, and daughter, Emily, sent a shiver down his spine. He shook it off. He had a newly chosen champion to find, a once-promising child prodigy of Goju-Ryu, now a drummer with a reputation that preceded her through the underground. Earthrealm needs her.

As the band launched into their first song, the crowd erupted, a frenzy of cheers and moshing. Zali, behind her massive drum kit, was a whirlwind of energy. Her sticks flew with lightning speed, her feet pounding the double bass pedals in a rhythm that was both brutal and beautiful. Damn, she's badass, Cole thought, captivated by her talent.

But what if she won't join us? What if she's in too deep? Cole's thoughts spiraled, plagued by the fear that Zali might be lost to the very world he and the rest of Earthrealm's champions sought to save.

He saw the fire in her eyes, the way she commanded the stage, but he also sensed the shadows lurking behind her bravado. Shadowing her since the sun set, he discerned a vulnerability beneath her tough exterior, a potential dread of being trapped in a life she couldn't escape.

Zali's performance was electric, igniting the room like a wildfire. As the song peaked, she unleashed a drum solo, a primal scream escaping her lips that sent the audience into a frenzy.

For her, playing for the Red Dragon was more than just a gig—it was a lifeline, filled with shows, money, drugs— a way to escape the ghosts of her past. In fleeting moments of clarity, it felt like a double-edged sword. She grappled with the cost of this lifestyle, the toll it took on her soul, entangled in the very darkness she'd fought to avoid.

Cole's heart raced, the thunderous beat of the drums echoing his pulse. He thought of Allison's warm smile and Emily's laughter, memories anchoring him amidst the chaos. His mission pressed heavily on his shoulders—he had to ensure their safety from the dangers lurking in the shadows. Every moment spent in this bar, every second he delayed, felt like a gamble with their lives.

When the set ended, Zali hopped off the stage, flushed and glistening with sweat. The crowd's cheers faded into a dull roar, and for a moment, she stood still, savoring the moment. But the exhilaration was short-lived as a knot formed in her stomach, discerning the Red Dragon members watching her closely, their gazes lingering like predators.

Was it just her imagination? She shook it off as she made her way to the bathroom, focusing on the familiar comfort of the bar, but the unease remained.

As she pushed open the bathroom door, the fluorescent lights blinked overhead.Inside, she quickly pulled out a small baggie, her hands trembling slightly. Why can't I just stop?

The ritual felt both comforting and suffocating. Same shit every day, can't it be something new? She took a deep breath, reminding herself of the rush that would follow. Whatever, what difference does it make, she thought, as she pulled out her knife, scooping out a bump on the tip. The world outside faded away, and for a moment, she felt invincible.

After a quick hit, she wiped her nose, sniffling as she caught her breath. The high surged through her, igniting a fire in her veins. But as the euphoria settled, a ripple of guilt passed over her. What am I doing? she wondered, staring at her reflection in the cracked mirror. This isn't the life I want.

Zali splashed cold water on her face to compose herself. She could still feel the weight of the Red Dragon's eyes on her, and their scrutiny made her skin crawl. With a final glance in the mirror, she straightened her shoulders and stepped back into the bar, the music pounding like a heartbeat.

As she approached the bar, she leaned over the bar, snatching a bottle of tequila and a shot glass, pulling a cigarette from her jean vest, and lighting it with a smirk. As she took a drag, she felt a presence behind her. Seizing his moment, Cole approached her, determination in his stride.

"Quetzali Guerrero," he said, leaning against the bar to the side of her. "You're a hard woman to track down."

"Just Zali," she snapped defensively, rolling her eyes before she threw back the shot. Her hand brushed against her nose, a reflex born from her constant use, but she quickly masked it with a casual flick of her hair. "Haven't heard my whole name in ages. What's it to you, anyway?" That's not a good sign. Her gaze was sharp, sizing him up. "You're a bit too... put together for this place. You some kinda stalker or just another wannabe hero looking to save my day?"

"Nah, I just know a thing or two about you, Zali," he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Like that dragon mark on your wrist. Pretty hard to hide, huh?" His tone was light, but there was an edge of seriousness beneath it as he leaned in slightly closer. "Good call to keep that under wraps in a place like this."

"How—" Zali's eyes widened, her hand instinctively reaching to cover the bandana she had tied around it. "How the hell did you know that? Who are you?"

"I'm Cole." his lips twitched into a half-smile. "I was sent to find you. My friends and I need your help."

"Need my help?" She snorted, slipping out her knife with her free hand, twirling it around in her fingers like a drumstick. "That's a bold claim for an outsider crashing a Red Dragon party," Zali stared him down, skepticism etched on her face. Cole... Can he be trusted?

"Whoa, easy there," Cole said, raising his hands slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "I get it, you got your knife ready. But trust me, I'm not your enemy. I've got enough on my plate without you stabbing me." His voice was steady, but the urgency in his eyes betrayed the gravity of the situation. "We're on the same side, whether you like it or not."

"The same side of what exactly?" Zali took a long drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling around her like a familiar embrace. "You're being awfully cryptic."

Cole's expression was serious, his instincts honed from years of survival in a city where danger lurked around every corner. He could feel the tension in the air, the weight of unseen eyes watching them, a reminder that in this environment, trust was a luxury few could afford.

Cole glanced around quickly before pulling down the collar of his white tee under his brown hoodie, revealing a matching mark on his chest long enough to gauge the recognition on her face.

"You've been chosen, just like me. To fight for something bigger than yourself. To protect our world from dark forces that are threatening to tear it apart. To you, the Black Dragon may seem like your only enemy, but they're just pawns in a much larger game." Cole's voice dropped, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "Anyone with the marking has a target on their back."

"What the hell does that even mean?" Zali shot back, her laughter hollow, the amusement fading as uncertainty crept in. How was it even possible for multiple people to have the same marking? The weight of his words settled in her gut, intriguing and fearful. "You're talkin' 'bout some crazy shit, and I'm just supposed to take your word for it?"

"It's too risky to tell you everything here. This place is crawling with Red Dragon, and they're not the only ones interested in you."

"Right," Zali took a long drag, "'cause they're after the protectors of our world..." her gaze locked on him as his focus was zeroed in on her. Her heart sped up. The attraction was palpable, but she masked it with sarcasm. "I'm not exactly the noble type, babe."

"Maybe not," Cole replied, his expression serious. "Listen, I'd rather be anywhere else right now. I've got a wife and daughter to protect." He hesitated, his voice dropping slightly. "But I'm here, 'cause Earth needs you, Zali. Your skills and strength."

Wife and daughter. Just my luck. Oh well, people needing me isn't my gig.

"And what if I just tell you to go to hell?" Zali challenged, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You think I'm just gonna drop everything for this mess you're talking about?" There was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, quickly masked by her tough exterior.

"I'll respect your decision," he said. "Just know that walking around with that marking makes you fair game for Outworld."

Outworld? Before Zali could respond, havoc erupted around them. Mercenaries of the Black Dragon burst into the scene, clashing with anyone in their path. Fists and weapons flew, and chairs toppled. The venue transformed into a battleground, and Zali and Cole found themselves back-to-back, in defensive stances.

"These your friends?" Zali muttered, sarcasm lacing her words as she repositioned her knife.

"Nope."

"Got a plan?"

"Fight our way out," Cole replied, his expression serious, embodying the protector he was. "Stay close."

"I think I'm starting to like you, Cole." Zali grinned, anticipation sparking in her eyes. "Let's fuckin' go."

With a roar, they launched into action, movements synchronized in a deadly dance. Zali's fists and feet moved with blinding speed, her Goju-Ryu skills on full display. She ducked under a wild swing from a thug, using the momentum to pivot and deliver a powerful kick to his knee, sending him crashing to the ground.

Cole fought with quiet strength, each move precise and calculated. He blocked a punch aimed at his face, countering with a swift jab to the thug's gut. The man doubled over as Cole followed up with a knee to his face, sending him sprawling backward. The mayhem intensified as the bar erupted into a full-blown melee. Zali scanned the room for anything she could use to her advantage, adrenaline pumping. Spotting a nearby table, she sprinted toward it, leaping onto its surface.

"Hey, assholes!" Zali shouted, drawing the attention of several mercs. "Over here!"

As they turned, she launched herself off the table, executing a perfect somersault to land behind one of them. She delivered a swift kick to his back, sending him crashing into another gang member. The two men tumbled to the ground in a heap, groaning in pain.

Meanwhile, Cole held his own against a group of three attackers. He ducked a wild swing, countering with a powerful uppercut that sent one thug reeling. He turned just in time to see Zali's knife flying past, sticking a guy with an axe rushing at Cole.

"You're havin' too much fun!" Cole shouted, a grin breaking through the turmoil, his humor shining through even in the heat of battle.

"You kiddin'?" Zali smirked, taking down an opponent with a well-placed elbow to the jaw. Her eyes gleamed with excitement. "I live for this shit!"

She spotted a broken bottle on the floor and quickly grabbed it, brandishing it like a weapon. A thug charged at her, and she sidestepped, slashing the bottle across his arm. He howled in pain, stumbling back as blood dripped from the wound.

"Next!" Zali taunted, her confidence soaring, but a flicker of guilt crossed her mind as she thought of the violence surrounding them. The thrill of the fight was intoxicating, yet it magnified some of the darker recesses of her mind.

Cole caught her eye, sensing her hesitation. "We need to go!" His protective nature urged her to focus on the present.

She nodded, "Vámonos."

They fought their way toward the exit, Zali using her environment to her advantage. She grabbed a barstool and swung it at a thug approaching from the side, the wood splintering on impact. She turned to face another attacker, but a sharp pain exploded in her face as he landed a quick punch to her nose. Blood immediately gushed, and Zali staggered back, wiping the blood from her upper lip. She shook off the momentary distraction, rushing at him with a flying knee.

Just as they reached the door, a hulking figure blocked their path. It was the scarred thug from earlier, now furious and ready for revenge. He brandished a metal pipe, his eyes blazing with rage.

"You think you can just walk away?" he growled, stepping forward menacingly.

"I don't think, I know." Zali's voice was fierce, but inside, a storm raged. Cole had everything to lose—his family, his future—and the thought of him being hurt ignited an intense protectiveness within her. She had spent so long hardening her heart, but now, fighting beside Cole, she realized that maybe, just maybe, it was her calling to be fighting for something greater than herself.

The thug laughed, a cruel sound that cut through the disarray. "I ain't scared a'you, little girl."

As he swung the pipe, Cole felt a surge of energy. He activated his Arcana, golden armor manifesting around him. In one swift motion, he pulled Zali aside, taking the hit to the chest. The impact reverberated, but Cole stood firm, unfazed.

With a powerful charged punch, Cole sent the thug crashing through the door, into the building across the alley, the metal pipe clattering to the ground in front of them.

"What the fuck is that?!" Zali exclaimed, a mix of awe and disbelief in her voice. "Did you just... sprout armor?"

Cole turned to her, a grin breaking through the tension. "Welcome to my world, Zali." He flexed his arms, the golden armor shimmering in the dim light, a testament to his newfound power.

Zali shook her head, still processing what she had just witnessed. "You're tellin' me you can just... absorb hits like that?" She tapped his shoulder with her fingertips, quickly drawing her hand back from the heat of the orange glow that appeared.

"Somethin' like that," Cole chuckled, the humor easing the tension. "It's a work in progress."

"Great," Zali replied, her sarcasm returning as she regained her composure. "So, you're a superhero now? Just what I needed— the knight in golden armor."

"Hey, you're no slouch yourself," Cole said, nodding toward the scuffles still unfolding behind them. "But let's get outta here before more of them show up."

Zali faltered, feeling a pang of regret. Her drum kit, her only pride and joy, was still on the stage, and she knew she had to leave it behind. The thought stung, but survival came first. She couldn't let sentimentality get in the way. Cole's determination to protect his family pulled her focus.

"Zali, let's move!" Cole urged, glancing toward the exit as they had an opening.

Damn it. With a final glance at the stage, she turned and sprinted toward the exit, Cole right beside her. They charged out into the night, adrenaline pumping through their veins. The sounds of the bar faded behind them, replaced by the distant wail of approaching law enforcement sirens. They had escaped the immediate danger, but the fight was far from over.

The thrill of the fight mixed with the weight of her decision to leave her kit behind, bought with Red Dragon blood money, to follow the stranger with golden armor. She could hear the distant shouts inside the bar, and she knew they wouldn't be safe for long.

"Where to now?" Zali asked as they raced down the alley, glancing at Cole, who was scanning the area for any signs of danger.

He waved for her to follow him down the alleyways. Zali examined the patterns of Cole's armor, wondering about the matching dragons they shared on their skin. How she up and left a life funded by Red Dragon blood money to follow the handsome stranger with golden armor. They took a ladder to a nearby rooftop to catch their breath and scope out their escape route.

As they made it to the top, Zali took a moment to catch her breath, leaning against the railing. The cool night air enveloped them. The city lights twinkled below, a calm after the storm they had just escaped. This is what you wanted, right? Something new?

In the stillness, she realized blood was still trickling from her nose. She removed the bandana from her wrist and wiped it off.

Cole's brow furrowed with concern as he asked, "Hey, you good?"He noticed the blood seeping from her nose as she pressed against her face.

His presence was warm, and for a moment, Zali felt a flutter in her chest, a dangerous thrill that made her question everything she thought she knew about herself.

"I'm fine," Zali brushed him off, forcing a smirk. "You know what they say, ain't no party like a Red Dragon party." She laughed lightly.

Cole chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I can see that."

"I can't believe I abandoned my kit," she sighed, frustration creeping into her voice. "Fuckin' thing's all I got to show for my life." It felt like leaving a piece of herself behind, a reminder of the nights spent pouring her soul into every beat. The only thing that kept her remotely close to sane for the last 7 years. "I hope this shit is worth it."

"You didn't abandon anything. You made the right choice, Zali." His voice was steady, but a flicker of doubt crossed his mind—was this truly the right path? She'd be the youngest of the champions, with a long way to go in such a short time.

"If you say so." Zali took a deep breath, the sobering cold air filling her lungs, sharp and invigorating, clearing her mind of the turmoil inside. She looked to her right forearm, tracing the image that she'd been convinced was from a night of partying too hard. "I want answers, Cole."

"And you'll get your answers. Soon," he assured her. "Let's get somewhere safe first."

But as she looked at Cole, a chill ran down her spine. What if they find us? The Black Dragon was still out there. Zali's heart raced at the thought, but she also felt a strange sense of belonging cutting into the isolation she had felt for so long, like a ghost haunting her own life.

"I think I found our way out," Cole said, breaking her reverie. "You good to go?"

Zali nodded, determination flooding her veins. "Lead the way."

The silent understanding hung in the air. Zali felt a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty, and a purpose began to take root. They were in this together now. They descended from the rooftop, ready to face whatever awaited them in the shadows of the city.

.•°¤*(¯'★'¯)*¤° ⱤØɄ₦Đ 1 °¤*(¯'★'¯)*¤°•. ₣ł₲Ⱨ₮!

𝕀 𝕕𝕖𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟. ℍ𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥 𝕤𝕠 𝕗𝕒𝕣. 𝕋𝕚𝕝 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖, 𝕞𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤!

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pinkneonvibes · 1 month ago

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6) ᔕTᖇIKIᑎG TᕼE ᗰᗩTᑕᕼ {ꜰᴜᴇɢᴏ}

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As Jackie descended the stairs, the bass thumped, and guitars wailed in her headphones. She wore her gi with confidence, her head held high, and the students in the dojo couldn't help but notice, sensing that something was different about Jackie today.

They exchanged glances, whispering about her new tattoo—a pair of delicate, lightly colored roses, with the smaller one in pale blue and white and the larger one featuring subtle white stars and stripes on dark blue and red petals. This tattoo, a symbol of her mixed heritage, reflected her identity that she had come to embrace more, especially in the face of those who had a problem with it—namely, Jian and Mihaela.

Jackie's relentless persistence, despite their continued hostility, made them glare in shock, their faces twisting with disgust.

"Sick, right?" Jackie said as she pulled her headphones down to her neck and raised her foot to reveal the tattoo on her ankle. "It totally screams Ms. America, doesn't it?"

"It's hideous," Mihaela retorted. Jian nodded with a smug smile, approving the comment.

"Aw, don't like it, huh?" Jackie asked, pretending to be hurt with the biggest fake pout she could manage, running her finger down her cheek to mimic tears before flipping them off and giving a wicked smile as she walked away.

"What kind of moron gets a tattoo like that right before a fight?" Jian snapped, watching her fist bump Axel.

"I hate that bitch," Mihaela told him through clenched teeth.

As Jian massaged Mihaela's shoulders, their eyes bore holes into the back of Jackie's head. "Don't worry. Zara's gonna wipe that stupid look off her face. She's got no chance."

Sensei Wolf stepped to the front of the class. With his hands clasped behind his back, he commanded respect from his students just by being there. The four girls competing that day lined up in their gi uniforms. The other students gathered around the mat, kneeling to watch the matches.

That's new. Sensei Wolf observed Jackie's unwavering confidence as she stood tall, eyes forward, at attention, waiting for his instructions.

But beneath the surface, despite all the mental preparation, Jackie was struggling against intrusive thoughts. Zara's so damn fast. What if I can't keep up?

"Zara. Jackie." The two girls stepped into the center of the mat, facing each other as Sensei Wolf approached. "No points. You fight until one of you can't." His words lingered in the air as he glanced back and forth between them, clearly expecting them to push their limits to the fullest.

They bowed, neither breaking eye contact and circled each other until Zara charged. Zara drove Jackie back, relentless in her attacks; her agility kept Jackie on her toes. Jackie kept her defense sharp, but Zara's speed allowed some hits to get through.

Jackie winced briefly when blocking a kick as Zara's foot made contact with her recently tattooed skin, but her rush of adrenaline dulled the pain slightly. It hurts. No, it's not that bad. You got this.

A tattoo? Feng narrowed his eyes once he realized, studying Jackie critically. She's too smart to give Zara an easy target.

Zara's nostrils flared as she and Jackie lunged forward, their fists striking their targets with a thud. Jackie took a sharp breath. The force of her punch caused Zara to stumble backward.

Zara's eyes locked on Axel, recognizing the devastating straight punch that Jackie had just thrown from his arsenal. Axel's lips tightened into a thin line; he recognized it, too, and Jackie delivered it with the precision of someone who had been practicing it for longer than two days.

The pair were closely matched in speed, but Zara's reaction to Jackie's hit confirmed what Jackie needed to know: she had the strength advantage.

Jackie went on the offensive, throwing more weight behind her strikes. Reeling from the heavier hits that cut through her blocks, Zara ended up at the edge of the mat. Zara jumped into the air, and Jackie sidestepped, evading her with the graceful cartwheels she'd learned from Capoeira.

The girls stepped back and shifted their stances. Zara quickly moved forward and stomped, targeting Jackie's tattoo.

It was only a matter of time. Sensei Wolf had predicted Zara's strike would land, but Jackie managed to pull back just in time.

Jackie scoffed, a smirk on her mouth. "Not cool, Z."

"You're right," Zara nodded. "It isn't."

As Zara took to flipping through the air, Jackie remained on the ground, waiting for the perfect moment to catch her off guard. When Zara flew by, Jackie seized the opportunity, wrapping her arms around Zara's waist and slamming her to the mat. Zara's face displayed shock and pain.

Jackie rose quickly and came down on Zara's abdomen with a falling axe kick. The force knocked the remaining air out of Zara.

Jackie rolled off, back on her feet. Zara stayed down, clutching herself, unable to get up.

Sensei Wolf called an end to the fight, and Jackie blinked, momentarily frozen until the realization of her victory washed over her. A new wave of adrenaline surged through her, sparking a sense of pride and a new appreciation for her abilities. Hell yeah! That's how it's done. A wide grin broke across her face.

Zara barely sat up, and Jackie reached out to help her. "You put up one hell of a fight, pulguita."

Even though Zara had lost, admiration for Jackie's performance flickered in her eyes. It was clear that Jackie had outdone her; the fight had truly tested her limits. She took Jackie's hand and stood, still holding her abdomen. They bowed to each other, then to their Sensei.

"Well done, Ms. Rojas." Feng nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "I expected nothing less."

"It's that American arrogance at its finest, huh, Sensei?" Jackie smirked boldly, echoing his words from the previous class. Jackie held his gaze defiantly until she was sure he'd gotten the message, then turned to follow Zara off the mat.

Feng couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as she walked away, surprised by her boldness in mocking him right in front of the other students. He knew exactly what she meant. He had no idea she had overheard him or taken it so personally. That behavior wasn't something he accepted in his dojo. And it was bothering him, but not in the way he anticipated. Should I let it slide?

The other two girls moved onto the mat. As the knelt, Jackie turned and whispered to Zara. "Hey, we good?"

"Just barely," Zara sighed. "The tattoo is nice, by the way." They shared a smile and mutual respect.

The next match ended quickly. Mihaela dominated her opponent, breaking through her defenses with powerful strikes and knocking her to the ground with a roundhouse to the face. Sensei Wolf congratulated her, announcing the finals were scheduled for the following day—Jackie versus Mihaela. Everyone stood to take their regular positions on the mat.

Mihaela stepped off the mat, and she got in Jackie's face, sizing her up. "You're next, curvă," she threatened, her final words dripping with loathing as she sauntered away with her nose turned up.

"Happen to know what that means, Z?" Jackie's eyebrows creased.

Zara said, "Pretty sure she called you a slut."

Jackie let out a snort. "Bet she'll call me somethin' worse after I knock her ass out." They both laughed and took their places.

After class, Axel, Jackie, and Zara discussed the match, offering Jackie more advice on how to beat Mihaela before their rides came for them. Feng headed to his office to wrap up some tasks and clear his head.

After the dojo cleared out and the excitement faded, Jackie was left alone in the stillness of her apartment. Going to work that night wasn't an option to keep her mind from flooding with thoughts of her parents' relationship problems, since Sensei Wolf had Yuz give her extra days off to focus on the matches. Jackie struggled to relax and unwind, so she decided to pick up a case of beer, hoping a little celebration of her win would help ease some of her tensions.

When she returned to her apartment, she could hear Jian and Mihaela being loud across the hall. Her attention shifted to the stairwell roof access. She'd always noticed the lights up there while walking home from the club, but she'd never had the chance to explore.

When she opened the door, she was surprised to find a peaceful little oasis. A few lanterns hung overhead, their lights growing brighter as the sun set. Low wooden benches on either side near the railing offered a view of the skyline. Water flowed down a fountain filled with smooth stones, and in the center, a black mat, smaller than the one in the dojo, waited for her. It was too tempting to pass up. She changed into athletic shorts and her sleeveless Sailor Moon shirt, then headed up with her drinks and journal.

It had been hours since class ended, and the sun finally set. Feng was in his office on the second floor, lounging in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk. He slowly reached for the whiskey bottle to refill his glass, sipping the dark liquid. So what if she overheard me making that comment? It didn't change his perception. But the look she gave him when she brushed off his attempt to compliment her got under his skin. As much as he tried, he couldn't shake it off.

Feng leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, as he felt suffocated by the weight of his emotional barriers, which had always been a source of comfort. Why are you invested in her feelings at all? The thought was strange, unsettling. He rubbed his temple.

Vulnerability is weakness, he reminded himself; it's how he'd kept his feelings in check as a Sensei and avoided them in his personal life altogether. There was no room for distractions or mistakes; those would get you killed. But the image of Jackie's defiant smile lingered, accompanied by a hint of something he couldn't quite name. Damn it, why does she get under my skin?

Feng kept looking at the ceiling, his mind drifting to Jackie one floor above. He recalled the time Yuz convinced him to check on her, how she answered the door sleepy and flustered, with her hair a mess. And those big, hopeful eyes that made him buckle to her demands.

Don't entertain it. Feng rubbed his face, attempting to erase the mental picture. "I need to get out of here," he told himself as he stood up, finished the rest of the drink, and put the bottle back on the shelf. He snatched up his keys from the desk and turned off the lights before heading down the stairs.

As he walked to his car, he noticed an unusual light reflecting on the sidewalk. He looked up and saw someone on the roof of the dojo.

Jackie leaned against the railing on the roof, gazing out at the neon city lights. She spun her beer in the bottle, and the lantern's light reflected off the glass. Her mind replayed the fight with Zara, and she evaluated Mihaela's style as straightforward, with solid technique, though not nearly as fast.

"Curvă," Jackie scoffed, repeating Mihaela's insult. Whatever. Keep throwin' gas on the fire, cerota. Jackie couldn't wait to fight Mihaela the next day.

Thoughts of her parents crept in. Thousands of miles away, and I still can't escape them. Reminding her how far she had strayed from the carefully crafted path they had laid out for her. The path she would still be on if she hadn't taken the chance to leave. Amidst all the chaos in her brain, coming to Hong Kong was the one thing she was sure of. It gave her freedom, albeit limited. She worked so often that she still hadn't gotten around much.

Jackie imagined her dad's reaction to the tattoo—he'd lose it, comparing her to her clean-cut cousins who wouldn't dare let a needle touch their skin, convinced they were better off. Or the others who took a rougher path, seeing their tattoos as marks of shame that highlighted poor life choices. Would her mom even be proud to know Jackie had won the match earlier, or that all her lessons were paying off? They're always disappointed. Always.

Her dad had a large family; Jackie was convinced he likely got along with them just fine while gossiping about her and her mom. On the other hand, her mom had no close living relatives. She was truly by herself. Jackie took a long drink, feeling the heaviness of that loneliness. Maybe she was coping like they did, turning to booze to numb her problems.

Not even close, Jackie reassured herself. They can handle their shit and leave me out of it. I need to focus on my own life now.

Jackie pushed herself off and moved back to the center of the roof, setting her drink down outside the edge of the mat and thinking about which kata to practice for the captain's match. She remembered the one she'd seen Sensei Wolf perform. She went to the bench, where her journal rested next to the case of beer, and flipped it open to the page where she had scribbled down notes and skimmed over them.

Returning to the mat, images of him executing the move in the dojo flashed through her mind as she focused on the sequence, slowly moving through it, trying to fill in the missing pieces. But her memory also stirred up the warm feelings in her stomach from watching him so intently, and she made a mistake.

"Ugh! It's never gonna happen," Jackie thought aloud, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Not like that, it isn't. You're butchering it," a familiar voice sounded behind.

"Sensei?" Jackie spun around, startled as Feng approached. Nothing's ever good enough for you, either.

"So you were the one watching me. I knew someone was," Feng declared with a smirk. "That's the funny thing about mirrors. You can see what's behind you."

"Not on purpose," Jackie defended quickly, regretting the nervousness in her voice. What kind of comeback was that? "I was out. And I don't owe you an explanation," she added, trying to gather herself.

"Mm hm," he nodded slowly, staying off the mat since he was wearing shoes, glancing at the tattoo on her right foot, "So was that all it took to light that fire under you today?" He said sarcastically as if he understood that her reasoning had to do with him.

"Among other things," she muttered, still sore with him.

"You're upset with me, I take it?"

"No. What makes you say that?" Jackie drawled mockingly, nearing the corner of the mat where he stood, picking up her bottle. "The whole universe doesn't revolve around you, y'know?"

"Are you purposely giving yourself disadvantages now?" He addressed the beer in her hand with a scowl. "Is everything a joke to you? You want to fight with a hangover next?"

Jackie let out a chuckle, catching the scent of alcohol on his breath.

"Seems like I'm not gonna be the only one nursing a hangover tomorrow," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, rubbing it in by taking a lengthy drink in front of him. "I think you're being a wee bit dramatic. Besides, beer wasn't on your no-no list," she wagged her finger at him playfully. Maybe that's the only reason he's not even more pissed with me right now, she thought.

"None of my other students are of drinking age. Didn't feel the need to mention it." Jackie's deflection irritated him, though he couldn't help but be amused at her personality shining through.

"Thanks for makin' me feel old," Jackie rolled her eyes, waving her bottle and resting her free hand on her hip. "And it's called celebrating. Don't remember inviting you, but I guess you wanna crash my party." She scrunched her nose with a teasing smile. She couldn't help but get a thrill from messing with him while he was busy lecturing her.

Feng raised an eyebrow, a smirk threatening to surface at the corner of his mouth, but he shook his head and forced it away. "I do own the place, in case you forgot," he said, sinking onto the nearby bench, his buzz beginning to catch up with him. He took a beer out and twisted off the cap with a pop, intending to keep Jackie from drinking too much. "It's been a long time since I drank the cheap stuff," he groaned, taking a sip.

Is it weird he's drinking with me? Is it weird I'm okay with it?

Jackie's journal lay open beside him, its pages filled with her notes on his kata. Feng picked it up, scanning the scrawled letters. "How can you read this?" He held the journal higher, a teasing smirk on his face. "Your handwriting is awful."

The liquid courage kicking in, Jackie marched over, setting her empty bottle on the bench with a clink, and snatched the book from his hands. "No one needs to know what's in there but me."

Feng took a swig from his drink, and his gaze fell on the burn scar on Jackie's outer thigh. She noticed where his eyes lingered and instinctively stepped back, tugging her shorts down to cover it.

It wasn't the worst part of the scar, but she always made an effort to hide it. Assuming she'd be alone for the night, she hadn't dressed with that in mind. She had forgotten about it entirely when he showed up.

Although his curiosity was piqued, Feng noticed her discomfort and chose not to mention it. Instead, he shifted the conversation. "It's called the Shaolin Sunset. It can be fatal when done properly, and it's not something I teach my students." He took another drink and pointed to her journal. "Should probably write that down."

"Ijuela." Jackie laughed, the tension easing slightly.

"What's so funny?" he raised an eyebrow.

"That name. Did you steal a fatality from Mortal Kombat?" she sassed. "Please tell me you know the bicycle kick, too. No, no, wait. Make me a sword out of ice."

"I don't know which is worse," Feng pinched the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. "The fact you said that or that I understood it?"

"What can I say?" Jackie shrugged. "I'm full of disappointing surprises." She set the closed journal back down, got another bottle out, and opened it.

"Show me again."

"Hm?" Jackie stiffened while she drank, suddenly remembering that he was sitting right before her, relaxed in his white tee, his eyes glassy and hair tousled in the breeze. "I thought you didn't teach that to your students."

"Let's see if you're worthy of it," he challenged.

"Okay then," Jackie said to herself, leaving her bottle on the bench, returning to the mat, replicating the motions she'd been attempting earlier.

"Weren't paying attention very well, were you?" he taunted.

"I was," she snapped, hands on her hips.

"I know how quickly you catch on." Feng shook his head. "Something distracted you," he said with a devious smirk. I have a pretty good idea what.

"I watched you do the whole thing!" What's he trying to get at?

Don't say it. Don't say it. Oh, what the hell. "Admit it," he scooted forward on the bench, cupping the side of his mouth and whispering loudly, "It's 'cause I wasn't wearing a shirt."

"Oh, fuck off." She doubled over, laughter bubbling up nervously as her hands instinctively covered her face. Her cheeks burned, flushing beet red. His humor caught her off guard, leaving her breathless. Excellent job keeping your shit together, estupida, she scolded herself, feeling a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration.

He laughed heartily. Jackie couldn't enjoy the sound as much as she would have liked because he'd embarrassed her so badly, and he wasn't entirely wrong.

"Subtle," Feng nodded. I knew it. Okay, enough. Stop that.

"Not being very subtle, yourself, are you?" Jackie shot back, still chuckling. Damn girl, that's your Sensei.

"No way. I play things close to the chest." Feng leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, locking eyes with her. "That's not an invitation to look, either," he winked. I can't believe she's that embarrassed. She's making this too fun.

Jackie bit down on her lip hard and looked away. "You're an arrogant prick, you know that?" she spat, but the lingering smile failed to give the insult the bite she intended. Smooth, Jackie. He's prob'ly used to getting gawked at.

Feng shrugged, "That's what you get for sassing me in front of the class. So the next time you feel the urge to get mouthy with me in the dojo, don't," he said, smirking.

Jackie rolled her eyes, but seeing this side of him felt good, a welcome distraction from all the stress on her shoulders.

"Alright, focus now. Start over."

"So you can make fun of me again?" Jackie crossed her arms, feigning annoyance.

"I'd do that anyway," he waved her off. "Don't be a baby, Jackie."

"Fine. Okay, how'd it go?" Think about the move, not your obscenely hot Sensei... Aw, dammit. She attempted the kata from the beginning.

"Ah, don't move." He finished his beer, licking the remnants off his lips before kicking his shoes off and standing up. "Widen your stance."

Jackie glanced down and spread her feet further apart, keeping her arms out in front of her.

"That is a pitiful sun." Feng moved closer, stepping onto the mat, carefully repositioning her arms in a circle, his hands lingering longer than necessary, the heat of her skin making his fingers tingle. That was a bad idea, he thought, but he pushed the feeling aside.

"What does the sun look like?" he asked, redirecting the moment back to teaching.

Jackie opened her mouth, but no words came out. Goosebumps prickled all over her as his cold and warm fingertips contrasted against her arms. Anxiety surged, thoughts spiraling into panic. Shit, this is bad. I bet he feels my pulse racing.

"It's round, Jacquelyn," he said with a chuckle, biting his lip to suppress a smile. He relished the effect he had on her. "The sun is round, unlike what you just did. But it's not just the shape. Your movements should reflect the strength and fluidity of the sun. Radiate power and grace."

Jackie looked away, and he let go. A shy smile flickered on her lips as she returned to a more relaxed stance. Here she was, so close to him under his intense gaze, feeling like a failure, falling short of his expectations. Why does he have to look at me like that? The weight of his scrutiny made her stomach twist. He doesn't think I'm good enough. I'll never get to his level.

Her eyes stayed fixed on the space between their feet as she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, twisting the fabric tightly around her fingers.

The doubt on her face troubled him—such a stark difference from the confident young woman who had taken down one of his top students earlier that day. There was so much potential, yet her spirit appeared crushed, as if she were a disappointment, even though her growth had surprised him, and he wasn't easy to impress. He struggled within himself, torn about what he should do.

Feng took a slow step closer, and Jackie's heart beat wildly, feeling the heat radiating off of him. Oh shit. Don't freak out. His proximity was overwhelming—the open night air thickened between them, charged with an unspoken tension.

"Jackie," Feng tilted his head to the side, studying her face. "Look at me."

She swallowed hard, lifting her head, nervous to meet his eyes again. Whoa, like personal space close.

Feng began to lift his hand but hesitated. Control yourself. He sensed the dangers of blurring lines with her, but the softness of her skin beneath his fingers was intoxicating, igniting a foreign longing to touch her again.

As much as he fought it, he found himself giving in, his pulse quickening. He gently brushed her hair away from her face to get a clear view, his fingers grazing her cheek. This is definitely crossing a line, he thought. But for a moment, Jackie's presence made him forget the rules he had set for himself.

Jackie's breath hitched as she closed her eyes, savoring the fleeting sensation of his touch. She opened them, blinking a few times, confused by the way he looked at her, as if she were being seen for the first time, which drowned out her insecurities.

"You're many things," he said, his voice steady and gentle, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "Disappointing isn't one of them. Remember that."

Jackie held his gaze, feeling lightheaded as she tried to decipher his expression and make sense of what was happening. What's he thinking? Her heart raced as her eyes flicked down at his lips. Is he feeling this, too? No, he can't be. Right? She laughed softly, somewhere between hoping he didn't notice and hoping he did. But just as quickly as the warmth of the moment took hold, he took a step back and folded his arms. An emptiness settled in Jackie's chest.

"I'll make you a deal." He cleared his throat, shifting back to his typical commanding posture. "Earn the captain spot, and I'll teach it to you."

"Seriously?" Jackie's heart soared at the prospect. Badass! Maybe I can finally earn his respect—and spend more time with him... Oh crap. Calm down.

"I'll even write it down for you," he pointed to her journal. "Something needs to be coherent in that mess."

"You're on."

"Now, I'm going home to sleep this off," he said, walking to the bench to slip his shoes back on. "I suggest you do the same. Tomorrow's a big day for you."

"You're gonna drive like that?" Jackie teased, but deep down, she hoped he'd stay a while longer.

"Done it plenty of times." He said before walking to the stairwell, "I won't tell if you don't."

"Hey, Sensei," Jackie called out. "Do you take it back then?"

"What?" he turned as he got to the door and opened it.

"That American bullshit you said a few days ago," she said, setting her hands on her hips.

He paused briefly. "Not at all. Consider yourself the exception. But don't let it go to your head," he waved. "Goodnight, Ms. Rojas."

"Bye, Sensei," she waved back. "Be careful."

Once the door shut, Jackie held her hand to her chest, furrowing her brows with a giddy smile, her nerves firing on all cylinders.

He's such a jerk. She giggled quietly, smiling ear to ear. There's no way I'll sleep after that.

A few minutes later, Jackie heard the roar of his car's engine turning over. She walked to the railing, seeing him just as he pulled away, relieved he wasn't swerving. Wow, he wasn't kidding.

Against his advice, Jackie stayed on the rooftop for another few hours, flipping through her journal and practicing a few katas. The excitement of learning the Shaolin Sunset and spending more time outside of class with Sensei, freshly motivated to win her fight.

She couldn't shake thoughts of him smiling at her that night, not his usual composed and stoic self. She had difficulty understanding why his smile, of all people's, was becoming so important to her.

Something shifted between them; the air of the night felt different. Charged with excitement and unsettling. Jackie sat to rest with another beer, to take it all in before turning in for the night. She closed her eyes and relaxed, swaying to the music playing softly on her phone, while the water flowed in the nearby fountain.

A sharp pain hit Jackie in the back of her head. Stars flashed before her eyes. What the f—

Once more, everything went black.

-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·° 火 °·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.-

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕞𝕒𝕛𝕠𝕣 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣, 𝕥𝕖𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕖. 🤭

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕓𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕠 𝕗𝕒𝕣. 𝕀'𝕞 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤. 𝕀'𝕞 𝕥𝕣𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕊𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕚 𝕎𝕠𝕝𝕗 𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕚𝕟 ℂ𝕠𝕓𝕣𝕒 𝕂𝕒𝕚, 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕤𝕠 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕩𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖.

𝕐'𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕥, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥? 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖. 𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘.

𝕀 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕'𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕣, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕔𝕜 𝕠𝕟 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝔾𝕀𝔽, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕥𝕒𝕕. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕓𝕖 𝕒 𝕗𝕖𝕨 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤; 𝕟𝕠 𝕠𝕟𝕖'𝕤 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥. 𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕞𝕖 𝕓𝕪 𝕟𝕠𝕨 🤣

𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝕂𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕒𝕥 𝕗𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕒𝕥? 𝕄𝕪 𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕆𝔾 𝕄𝕂 𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕤 𝕀 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕚𝕥𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕝𝕝.

ℕ𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀'𝕞 𝕕𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕕, 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤.

ℙ𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕖, 𝕞𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤! ✌️💟

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pinkneonvibes · 2 months ago

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5) ᗷᑌIᒪᗪIᑎG ᗩᑎᗪ ᗷᑌᖇᑎIᑎG ᗷᖇIᗪGEᔕ {ꜰᴜᴇɢᴏ}

{Previous} {Next}

"You didn't have to go outta your way to walk me here," Jackie said as the morning sun cast a warm glow. They strolled down the stairs and along the sidewalk to the café where Axel and Zara had invited her for breakfast once their schedules lined up.

Zara waved Jackie off with her usual snobbish tone, "Please, if anything happens between you and Jian again, I want a front-row seat. We'll go viral."

Axel shook his head with a knowing smile, leaning in to mock whisper to Jackie, "They used to date."

"Ew," Jackie scrunched her nose in exaggerated disgust, "Nuh-uh."

"Only to find out how he managed his hair better than mine. It's no secret," Zara admitted with a playful smirk. "I'd have knocked him out myself if I had the chance. I guess I'll have to live that moment vicariously through you, Jackie."

Jackie and Axel burst into laughter at her bluntness.

Axel and Zara radiated best-friend energy; despite Zara's self-absorption, Jackie could see she genuinely cared for Axel. Their friendship became a comforting and reassuring presence in Jackie's life. But she couldn't help but envy them since she longed for friendships like theirs—genuine connections, not the fleeting acquaintances she had at school, where classmates changed every year and no one stayed in touch. Someone she could trust and confide in entirely about things she kept hidden from the rest of the world—not that her parents' hold on her made it any easier to connect with people.

They kept Jackie close, thanks to Jian's bullying. As soon as Jackie found out, Axel and Zara had to talk her down from trying to break down his door and take him out. Although they both would have liked to see Jackie get even with him, they knew Sensei Wolf would make the entire dojo suffer for such an extreme action. The team needed to be on the same page to be effective.

Jackie's energy surged as the medication kicked in. She began to feel more like her old self. Sensei Wolf's attitude remained unchanged, but his criticisms became less frequent and harsh. Jackie even noticed him glancing her way occasionally, as if recognizing her progress. She'd catch herself sneaking a sly smile when he was nearby, testing to see if he'd break and respond in kind. He realized what she was doing because after a while, he'd shift his focus to someone else as he walked past.

Axel held the door open for them. The cozy, brightly lit café interior wrapped them in a warm and inviting atmosphere, with shelves of magazines and books lining the walls. They took seats by the front windows, flipping through the menus.

Jackie's phone rang while they were sitting and browsing through the menus. "That's my dad," she said. She silenced the ringer, about to let it go to voicemail, but then she hesitated and stood up. "I should prob'ly take this. We haven't talked in a while."

"Go ahead. I take care of all the ordering anyway," Zara said with a shrug.

Jackie smiled and shook her head; Zara was such a snob, and it was funny.

She stepped outside and steeled herself to answer the call. "Hey, Dad."

The only sounds on the other line were loud, pulsating music, along with people talking and laughing.

"Dad?" she kept repeating, but there was no response. Jackie wondered why she had fooled herself into believing that, after all this time without hearing from him, the man who would walk away when she was in the middle of a conversation with him would want to talk now.

Jackie hung up and almost turned to head back in, but stopped. "Might as well get it out of the way now," she mumbled and tried calling back. To her surprise, her dad didn't answer.

"Quiubo, mijita!" Jackie's uncle greeted her.

"Tío Nando?" Jackie asked, confused. "My dad's with you?"

"Yeah," her uncle cleared his throat, "give me a minute, mija."

Jackie's dad clicked his teeth in annoyance in the background. "Qué quieres?"

«Talk to your daughter, man.» Her uncle sounded distant, urging her dad to take the phone.

"¿Qué hija? Que se quede en China." The phone clattered loudly as it hit the ground, and her dad, clearly intoxicated, shouted something incoherent.

Sorry, mijita," Tío Nando said, picking up the phone again. "Listen, your dad isn't doing too well right now. Call your mom when you get a chance. ¿Oíste?"

"Okay, pues. Bye, Tío."

Jackie stayed outside, taking it all in. 'What daughter?' he says. 'Stay in China.' Damn right, I'm stayin' here. Mom can wait till later.

"Everything okay?" Axel asked.

"Just Dad being a caring, loving father," Jackie relayed sarcastically, "as usual."

"Daddy issues." Zara wiggled her eyebrows.

"Oh, please," Jackie rolled her eyes and changed the subject, though she was genuinely curious. "I never asked, but how did you two become Iron Dragons?"

"We used to be students with Sensei. He'd help train the younger kids, and then he opened the dojo, reached out to us, and brought us on board," Axel explained. "We've been training with him for years."

Sensei with little kids?" Jackie chuckled, unable to shake the thought. "It's hard to picture if they aren't crying their eyes out, anyway.

He's practically the best martial artist in the world. Our parents jumped at the chance for us to switch," Zara gushed, her admiration clear.

They shared their karate careers, with Axel and Zara recounting the many countries and events they competed in, consistently finishing in the top three. Jackie kept it superficial, sharing her karate story, which was much shorter than theirs, even though she was two years older than they were. She deliberately left out the details of the fight that led to her parents cutting her off from training.

"The girls' captain fight is coming up. Are you both ready?" Axel asked.

"Always," Zara beamed confidently.

"I guess so. Being sick set me back. I'm gonna need to get more practice in," Jackie said.

"Maybe I can stay late today and help you out," Axel offered, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

"I have tonight off work. I'm down," Jackie accepted.

"Um, hello, am I not sitting right here?" Zara interjected.

"You'll be fine, Zara," Axel assured her. "We're all on the same team here."

Jackie sensed the tension but ignored it, focusing instead on Axel's kindness in offering his help. The food arrived at the table: pancakes with chocolate syrup, powdered sugar, and fruit. Another plate held eggs, bacon, sausage, and hash browns.

Jackie was stunned, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of them.

"Relax. We have cheat day once a month," Zara said nonchalantly. "You're welcome."

Jackie took a bite and covered her mouth, humming with a mouthful of food. "I love cheat day."

After breakfast, they all headed home to prepare for class. Jackie put on her practice gear, relaxed with a comfortable, lazy nap after a full belly, and looked forward to next month's cheat day.

Sensei Wolf announced in the dojo that there would be no class the next day, and the girls' semi-finals for the captain position would occur the day after. The first two names called were Zara and Jackie. Jackie looked at Zara, hoping to share a smile, but Zara only gave a weak smirk. For class, Sensei Wolf told the students to choose a partner for board breaking, and, as usual, where Axel and Zara would be, Zara quickly picked someone else.

Jackie walked over to Axel. "Looks like Zara's not taking any of this lightly."

"She'll get over it," Axel said with a shrug. "I think."

Then the fun began. At the opposite end of the room, Jian and Mihaela tried to one-up Jackie and Axel, but they ignored them. Jackie and Axel had a great time, splitting each board completely with flair. It was Jackie's best class so far, even earning an approving nod from Sensei Wolf for her consistency.

After class, Jackie headed toward the staircase to grab her journal from her apartment. Jian cut in front of her with a scowl. Jackie clenched her fist, wanting nothing more than to knock the expression off his face, but he approached Sensei Wolf.

"Hey, Sensei, did you catch the fight last night?" Jian asked as a few more students gathered around.

Despite the aside, Jackie listened from the bottom of the stairs, thinking about whether to turn around and join the conversation; she had worked at the club that night and watched the fights on the bar's TVs. Sensei Wolf was such a skilled fighter. He must have had great insights. But that changed once they discussed the title fight.

"It's everyone else's fault he can't finish his opponents? What a joke. American arrogance at its finest," Sensei Wolf replied, his voice sharp and dismissive. They all laughed.

It's because of him, Jackie realized. Her stomach dropped as laughter rang out in the dojo. Sensei Wolf's comments mirrored Jian and his friends' hostility and teasing toward her. Is that really what he thinks of me? Do Axel and Zara feel the same way? Her cheerful expression from earlier vanished. Just when she thought she was getting a handle on things, a nagging doubt started to creep in.

The group separated, all the students headed home, but Feng noticed Axel emerging from the boys' locker room, a towel draped around his neck. "Hey, Sensei," Axel greeted, his tone light.

"Axel," Feng replied, holding a neutral expression. "What are you still doing here?"

"I'm helping Jackie train for the captain's matches," Axel said, glancing toward the staircase where Jackie had just disappeared.

"Staying late?" Feng's brow furrowed slightly. "Alright. Make sure she doesn't overdo it."

"Will do, Sensei," Axel replied, nodding. "I'll keep an eye on her."

With a curt nod, Feng turned to leave.

Jackie returned to the mat. Axel was sitting there, scrolling through his phone as he waited. He offered her advice on a few other styles he was familiar with and shared his thoughts on the weaknesses and potential openings she'd observed in the other three girls in the dojo. She jotted them down in her journal between reps.

"I should get going," Axel gathered his things as the sun descended.

"Oh, my bad. I didn't mean to keep you."

"Well," Axel debated if he should mention anything. "It's not that."

"Then what, Axel?"

"Sensei told me not to let you overdo it."

"What the hell is his problem?!" Jackie's volume rose. "Whatever, I'm just here to be the butt of everyone's joke anyway."

"Believe me, Jackie, Sensei wouldn't keep anyone here for that. It'd be a waste of his time."

They said their goodbyes, and Jackie sat on the floor, flipping through her journal and reflecting on her day. Some pages held brief thoughts about being proud of her great-grandfather's military service and visiting all of Dad's extended family in Guatemala. Jackie never felt ashamed of her roots, which made her even more frustrated with Sensei Wolf. The emotional high she experienced earlier in the day from him simply nodding, confused her.

Twirling her rose-patterned pen between her fingers, an idea formed as she gazed at the flowers. Jackie rushed upstairs to shower and change, grabbed her purse, and headed out. She followed the directions on her phone to the nearest tattoo shop.

Two hours later, her ankle and foot ached dull and throbbing. The tattoo was on the medium-small side, noticeable but still feminine. Sure, maybe it was a frivolous expense, and some kicks were going to hurt, but pain had never stopped her before. Jackie grinned as she admired the artist's work, happy with her choice.

When she returned to the dojo, she saw a faint glow behind the curtains. She remembered to turn off the lights. As she quietly slipped in to avoid anyone downstairs at this hour, she noticed the lights were scattered and dim.

Hearing even, controlled breaths, Jackie peeked from behind the wall at the bottom of the staircase. Sensei Wolf. His back was to her, but she could see his face through the mirror on the wall. Jackie debated whether to keep going; he drained enough of her mental energy. But her curiosity got the better of her. He moved through his kata with a grace that mesmerized her, embodying everything she aspired to be—strong, confident, and unyielding.

Jackie's heart raced as her eyes remained fixed on him. Following the fluid motion of his hands, he moved up and down to keep a circular pattern, hit the rotation, gained momentum, and then spun into a kick, splitting the wooden makiwara with overwhelming force.

That was incredible. I need to learn that move, Jackie thought. Once Sensei Wolf went to the locker room, Jackie rushed to her apartment, grabbing her journal and eager to write down what she could remember.

Lying on her bed, browsing over her notes, and winding down for the night, Jackie realized she had forgotten to call her mom. She put the phone on speaker, slipping her hands underneath her pillow.

"Hey, baby," her mom sniffled.

"Ma, what're you doing? You good?" Jackie sat up, concerned.

Julie hummed, "At home in the kitchen," she replied.

"Okay," Jackie drawled out." So dad's in Arizona, and... you're not?"

Julie scoffed, "Oh, so you can call him, but not me."

"Phones work both ways. And I still called you guys first."

"Always what you want, not what I want, just like your father," she slurred bitterly.

"Are you drunk? Isn't it morning over there?" Jackie felt a wave of worry.

"Always what you want," her mom repeated. Jackie heard the thump of a wine cork.

"Mom, you need to stop drinking. You're not makin' any sense."

"Your father wants a divorce, Jackie." The words stole the air out of Jackie's lungs. "Does that make sense? "

Jackie fumbled over what to say as her throat tightened.

"Both get the lives you want without me. Alone, rotting in this house. " Her mom hung up.

Jackie sat in silence while the tears spilled, the weight of her parents' dying relationship resting in her chest. She felt like the final nail in the coffin, a confirmation that she was the burden that had driven her parents apart. She prayed for sleep to come soon, hoping to escape the reality of her life for at least the night.

>-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·° 火 °·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.->

𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕪. 𝕀 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕒 𝔾𝕀𝔽 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝔸𝕩𝕖𝕝/ℙ𝕒𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕃𝕦𝕨𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖, 𝕤𝕠 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗. ℍ𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕒 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕟.

ℕ𝕠𝕨, 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕊𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕚 𝕎𝕠𝕝𝕗 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕚𝕞. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕓𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕤𝕠 𝕗𝕒𝕣, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀'𝕞 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟' 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘. 𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕒 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕠𝕟𝕖. 😎

𝕆𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟, 𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕖, 𝕞𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤!

*ℝ𝕠𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤*

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pinkneonvibes · 2 months ago

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4) ᖴIᘔᘔᒪIᑎG OᑌT {ꜰᴜᴇɢᴏ}

{Previous} {Next}

August 2015

The alarm blared at noon, cutting through the silence like a knife. Jackie shuddered at the shrill noise, grabbed her phone, and tapped snooze, groaning in disgust at the chill wetness of drool on her pillow. Her schedule was grueling, practicing five to six days a week at the dojo and working 45 hours at the club; she barely made enough to get by. Living on Hong Kong Island was expensive, but Jackie was determined to make it work, no matter the challenges that arose.

Stomach cramps twisted in her stomach again, which was no surprise since it always took some time for her to adjust to a new environment. The dietary changes were drastic compared to what she was used to. With a Chinese dragon Hong Kong magnet she bought as a souvenir, she'd attached a hand-scrawled list of ingredients and foods to avoid, ordered by Sensei Wolf, to the fridge. Jackie had gradually been losing weight, and now, standing before the bathroom mirror, she noticed her clothes were starting to hang looser on her frame.

"More force, Rojas!" Sensei Wolf's voice was prominent in her mind, sharp and demanding. "Do you expect everything to be handed to you?" His fierce criticisms stung. Jackie felt her first few weeks at the dojo had been promising, but it all went downhill when her symptoms began to affect her performance. The way his gaze lingered on her with disappointment made her chest ache. Each harsh word chipped away at her confidence, leaving doubt to creep in and causing her to second-guess her abilities. I have to show him I can do this.

Jackie needed to do laundry before class, so she dragged herself to the second floor to use the washing machine. She returned to the apartment for a quick snack, every bite resting sour in her stomach as her mind raced through Sensei Wolf's expectations. Back to the second floor to move the clothes to the dryer. Jackie looked down the end of the hall where Sensei Wolf's office was. Maybe I should talk to him, but she shot the thought down quickly, knowing he'd have plenty to say to her during class.

After returning to her apartment from the laundry room, Jackie gave in to exhaustion and fell asleep on the couch without setting another alarm to check her clothes. When she woke up, she lifted her phone from her stomach to check the time, and her eyes widened.

She gasped, "Oh, shit!" and scrambled back down to grab her clothes with just ten minutes to spare before class started.

Her heart sank when she opened the dryer; everything was still wet. "Esta mierda," Jackie muttered while she tried restarting the machine, but it didn't work. Looking closer, she saw that the power cord was loose at the outlet. After pushing the plug in, the machine made a chime.

Jackie rechecked the time. "Dammit!" she slammed her fists down on the dryer. There was no time to waste; the soaking wet clump in the machine contained all her practice gear. Great. He's gonna have a fuckin' field day with me today, she thought bitterly. Sensei Wolf wasn't shy in any sense of the word.

Jackie stuffed her laundry into the basket and rushed up the stairs. Halfway up, she slipped on something slick but managed to catch herself; however, her laundry basket tumbled down the stairs with a loud crack, scattering her clothes all over.

«Wonderful. Something else I need to buy,» Jackie complained in Spanish as she made her way down and collected her things. A small puddle sat on the top step. Crap, did I spill detergent? she wondered. So she used the towel from the load to clean it up before anyone else slipped on it. Back in her apartment, she struggled to get into her wet clothes, barely reaching her place on the mat in time.

Sensei Wolf selected partners for the class to stretch and work with during the lesson. Jackie prayed she wouldn't be partnered with Jian, Mihaela, or the other kid whose name she forgot, the ones who lived above the dojo with her. The dirty looks they constantly shot her way were enough; being stuck with them for an entire class in that state would be the icing on the cake.

Jackie held her breath, letting out a sigh of relief when he matched her with Zara. She'd never really interacted with the other students, especially not the younger girl, who seemed more focused on herself than on making friends.

"Why are your clothes damp?" Zara asked, cringing slightly as she released Jackie's arm.

Jackie hung her head, her shoulders slumping. "Somethin' was wrong with the dryer," she admitted, embarrassed.

"Rojas!" Sensei Wolf barked, voice drowning out the chatter in the dojo.

Jackie stiffened at his voice. What now?

"Fix your posture."

After class, Jackie winced at the discomfort in her abdomen as she hurried to the locker room bathroom, knowing she wouldn't make it to her apartment. However, she was unaware that two students had started to pay closer attention to her ongoing troubles.

Axel approached Zara. "Don't you find it odd that there's always something wrong with her?" he asked, his tone indicating apprehension.

Zara nodded, saying, "It's getting old. Today, her clothes were wet. And she's starting to look skinny." She gestured with her finger toward her mouth like someone inducing vomiting, insinuating something darker.

"That's mean," Axel chided, crossing his arms, bothered by the cruelty behind her words.

"Not trying to be mean," Zara shrugged snobbishly, "Just being honest."

Jackie staggered up the stairs, her body heavy with fatigue, and quickly showered before heading out for another long night at work. Despite her intense dislike for medications, she found herself stopping at the small pharmacy near the club at the end of her shift, grabbing more over-the-counter tablets for nausea. "I can't keep doing this," she thought, knowing it was the only thing keeping her somewhat balanced during class. Finally home, she changed into her pajamas and collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted and drained, her mind racing with worries about tomorrow.

The next morning, Sensei Wolf was in his office on the second floor of the dojo when Yuz unexpectedly stopped by. He tapped lightly on the door before opening it.

"Hey, Feng," Yuz entered the room and sat near the window in one of the leather sofas. "I'm starting to worry about Jackie."

"You couldn't have just texted me?" Feng glanced up from his laptop, irritation flickering in his eyes. "What's she done now?" His voice was sharp, but a part of him was already bracing for the answer.

"No, nothing like that," Yuz waved both hands dismissively. "She's been great, but I don't know... she doesn't look well. She's run down all the time. Haven't you noticed?" His unease was palpable.

I make it a point not to notice her too much, Feng thought as he closed his laptop, a wave of guilt washing over him. "Probably just used to being babied," he mocked, but what Yuz brought to his attention deep down unsettled him. He knew Jackie had caught on quickly initially, but her steady decline was troubling. Maybe something else was going on. "What do you expect me to do?" he replied, his voice laced with frustration.

Yuz settled back, resting his arms on the back of the couch. "Look, I know you're fairly new to the Sensei thing, but doesn't that mean you're supposed to look out for her? If you hadn't told me to back off, I'd bring it up to her myself."

"You might have a point. For once," Feng exhaled, running a hand down his face as he reclined in his chair. "But the last thing I need is anyone thinking I'm playing favorites." Still, he felt a flicker of concern for Jackie that he couldn't shake off.

"I'm serious, Feng," Yuz said, sitting up straight, urgency in his voice. "It's well past that. You need to check on her," he implored him.

"Alright. Fine," Feng relented, rising from his chair with a heavy sigh. He headed for the door, a mix of irritation and nervousness swirling. What am I getting myself into? he thought, but he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was off.

"Thank you," Yuz grinned.

"Not doing it for you," Feng announced.

"Oh, I know," Yuz winked.

"Out." Feng pointed Yuz to the exit.

Dull thuds on Jackie's door pulled her from a restless sleep. She rolled over, falling to her knees as she raced to get up. The knocking continued, insistent and demanding, and she hurried to answer.

"Expecting wake-up calls now, Ms. Rojas?" Sensei Wolf teased. He inspected her face, and though the room behind her was nearly pitch black, he noticed the sunken look in her eyes and the pallor of her cheeks. So that's what Yuz meant, he thought, a knot forming in his stomach.

"Sensei!?! What are you doing here?" Jackie panicked, her heart racing. She quickly tried to smooth her hair and hide her body behind the door, feeling self-conscious in her baggy t-shirt and shorts. "Did I miss class?" she asked, bracing herself for the tirade she had become so accustomed to receiving.

"Jackie," he sighed, resting his hand on the door frame, his expression softening. "You look like hell. You need to see a doctor."

"Oh. Um, I just—" Jackie stammered, her mind racing as she tried to recall her finances while still processing his words. Not sure I can afford it right now, she thought, worry rising in her chest.

"No excuses," he interrupted, his voice steady. "You're no good to me if you're not taking care of yourself." His tone was firm, but an underlying worry for her softened his words, a glimpse of the mentor he aspired to be despite his tough exterior.

"Okay," Jackie surrendered. "But I don't want to miss today. I've already lost so much time." A hint of defiance shone through.

"Jackie..."

"I promise I'll go to a hospital right after," Jackie pushed insistently.

Feng was about to flat-out say no, but he couldn't. The hint of green in Jackie's hopeful brown eyes stirred something within him that he couldn't quite place, causing him to hesitate. "You're sitting out. Take notes or something." He felt a pang of guilt, aware he was bending his own rules for her.

Jackie quickly agreed to his terms, thanking him profusely and closing the door. Feng furrowed his brows briefly before walking away, still puzzling over why he'd given in to her request. He couldn't shake the feeling that giving in to her crossed a line, but her determination was hard to ignore.

Jackie chose a spot along the wall for class, her heart pounding as she positioned herself with a clear view of Sensei Wolf and the students. She was ready to jot down anything new with her journal, hoping to absorb every lesson. But as the other students noticed her, side glances and whispers circulated, reminding her of the isolation she often felt around them.

"Maybe you should talk to her," Axel encouraged Zara while she stretched, his voice low.

"Why me?" Zara straightened up, scrunching her face in annoyance. "You do it. Don't be shy."

"She knocked the last guy out," Axel rebutted jokingly.

"That's different. Jian deserved it."

The pair agreed to speak with Jackie at the end of class, but when the time came, she'd already disappeared, leaving her journal and water bottle behind.

They both hung around to wait for her. After a while, Axel glanced at Jackie's things again to see if she'd returned, only to spot Jian picking up Jackie's water jug and tucking it in his gi. Axel followed to the locker room. Jian unscrewed the lid and poured a small amount of dirt-cloudy water into it, closing it tightly and shaking it up.

"What did you put in there?" Axel questioned, narrowing his eyes as he stepped closer to confront Jian, his protective instincts kicking in. He couldn't let Jian's cruelty go unchecked, not when it involved someone who had already faced enough challenges.

Jian jumped before realizing who had spoken to him. "Relax," he chuckled. "It's from the pond. It won't kill her."

Axel paused, realizing, "Just make her sick..."

"Exactly." Jian sneered. "That spoiled bitch doesn't belong here. We're doin' everything we can to make sure Ms. America knows it till she goes home."

"We?" Axel gawked in disbelief. "Who else is–"

"Doesn't matter." Jian cut him off, setting the plastic bottle down in his locker and flinging the door shut with a crash. "She didn't put in the same work as us, Axel. She needs to go."

"Jackie beat you on her first day." Axel reminded. "She's earned a place."

Enraged by what he saw as his friend's betrayal, Jian grabbed Axel by his gi. Axel then struck back, slamming Jian against the locker.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't tell Sensei," Axel growled, his voice low and steady, anger and a newfound protectiveness for Jackie bubbling beneath the surface, unwilling to let Jian's petty vendetta go unchallenged.

"Tell me what?" Sensei Wolf appeared in the locker room, his presence commanding as he stared the two boys down. His sharp gaze cut through the tension.

"Girl trouble," Jian blurted out quickly with a forced smile as Axel let him go.

Sensei Wolf didn't buy it for a second but trusted Axel to handle the issue, regardless of the situation. He waved them out, his voice firm, "Deal with your girl drama outside of my dojo," he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. He had little patience for distractions that could undermine the dojo's discipline.

"Yes, Sensei," they responded in unison.

"What's wrong with these damn teenagers today?" Sensei Wolf grumbled as they walked past him.

Axel grabbed Jian's shoulder before they left, his grip firm. "It stops now, or I tell him," he warned, his eyes blazing. He wouldn't let Jian's jealousy ruin what little camaraderie they had left.

"Whatever," Jian shrugged him off, joining Mihaela to head upstairs.

Jackie stood beside her journal, a frown creasing her brow as she puzzled over where her bottle had gone. A sense of uneasiness settled in her stomach, and she felt something was off in the dojo that day.

"Hi, Jackie, this is Axel. I'm Zara, of course," Zara introduced herself, her tone friendly but cautious. Jackie could sense the underlying tension.

"Uh, hi," Jackie glanced back and forth between the two, taking in the stark contrast, and raised an eyebrow when she saw Axel holding her water bottle.

"Here." Axel handed her the container, his expression serious. "But don't drink that," he added hastily. "I think I know what's been making you sick." His words hovered in the air.

Jackie's heart raced as she took the bottle, a chill running down her spine. She searched his face for reassurance, but his worried expression deepened her anxiety.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Just trust me," Axel replied firmly.

The dojo around her felt suddenly more hostile as she stood there, the whispers and glances sharper. Jackie clenched the bottle so hard her knuckles went white. The realization that her constant illness wasn't natural—that someone was actively trying to hurt her—burned in her chest. This was no longer just about karate; it was about survival. She needed to get healthy again and promised herself that anyone who dared to stand in her way again would have hell to pay.

>-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·° 火 °·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.->

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕂𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕂𝕚𝕕 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞 𝕠𝕗 𝕓𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘? 😬

𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕞𝕪 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥-𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥 (𝕃𝕆𝕃) 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤. 𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕪 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖. 𝕀'𝕞 𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕠𝕟 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕡𝕒𝕕, 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜𝕝𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥.

𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕠 𝕖𝕩𝕔𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕖𝕨 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕, 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕪 𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙. 𝕀 𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕒 𝕓𝕚𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕪, 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 '𝕖𝕞.

𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℤ𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕓𝕚𝕥, 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕓𝕖 𝕒 𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕓𝕛𝕖𝕔𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖, 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕣𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕤𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕪 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥. 𝕀 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕦𝕡 𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕦𝕥.

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥. 𝔻𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕪 𝕥𝕠 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕜��𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥! 𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜 𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕟, 𝕤𝕠 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕟𝕠 𝕔𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕪'𝕒𝕝𝕝. 😅

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pinkneonvibes · 3 months ago

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3) ᔕᗰOKE ᗩᑎᗪ ᗰIᖇᖇOᖇᔕ {ꜰᴜᴇɢᴏ}

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Hong Kong - July 2015

"Attention, passengers, we are now arriving at Hong Kong International Airport." The stewardess repeated the announcement in Cantonese.

"Oh, thank God," Jackie groaned, raising her violet facemask and squinting as her eyes adjusted to the morning light. The sixteen-hour flight was brutal; the worst part was heavy rain showers on and off, creating turbulence. She tapped her seatbelt to ensure it was on before bracing herself for the plane's descent and landing.

Disembarking to a sticky 86 degrees and a queasy stomach couldn't dampen Jackie's spirit. She took it all in, fascinated by the airport being an island, the stunning green mountain peaks, and the endless cerulean ocean surrounding her. Here she was, chasing a dream she never imagined possible.

Heading to the waiting area, she skimmed the crowd for a sign with her name. A young, thin guy with a dark green beanie sat leaning back in a terminal chair, playing on his phone while a small blue poster with "Jacquelyn" scrawled on it was propped up on his stomach.

She approached him with a warm smile. "Hi, there. I'm Jackie."

The young man peeked up from the game he'd been so invested in and perked up after making eye contact. Quickly, he put his phone away and sprang to shake Jackie's hand.

"Oh, hello, Jackie. I'm Yuz." He matched her smile and energetically shook her hand for a few moments too long.

Jackie retained her smile, stifling back laughter. He seemed genuinely delighted to meet her, and she didn't have the heart to embarrass him.

Yuz realized his overenthusiasm, quickly drew his hand back, and chuckled awkwardly. "Let's get your bag," he said.

Jackie took out her phone while they walked to baggage claim, wondering how her parents took the news of her leaving and how often they must have called. At the very least, she wanted to let them know she arrived safely halfway across the world. After connecting to the airport Wi-Fi, no notifications popped up.

Yuz noticed her zoning out on her screen. "I've got a new SIM card for you in the car. You can call your parents soon."

"For sure." Jackie locked her screen and slipped the phone into her back pocket. "I'll prob'ly stick to texting them." Jackie assumed they might not want to talk to her anyway.

"We'll settle you in today and show you the club."

"Club?" she asked, spotting her bag by the hibiscus flower patch she had sewn on and grabbing it off the conveyor belt.

"Yeah, that place is my baby," Yuz proudly announced as they headed for the exit. “You'll be working for me."

"Oh, wow. Thanks, really, for everything. Without the help, I'd be so lost right now." Working at a club couldn't be more complicated than caring for wild animals. Right?

"Not a problem." Yuz opened his trunk and dropped Jackie's bags in.

On the drive from the airport to Hong Kong Island, Yuz gave her the sightseeing rundown, a little of which she'd read about independently. They even talked about anime. Jackie appreciated his taking the time to make her feel welcome, either way.

When Yuz's phone started ringing, Jackie believed it was hers and fumbled in her backpack for it until Yuz answered his call. Jackie checked her phone; still nothing. They're prob'ly too busy throwing my shit out, she thought, stuffing the phone back.

Yuz became increasingly frustrated during the call, maintaining the conversation in Cantonese. Drumming her fingers on her knees, Jackie observed the scenery from the passenger-side window.

"I have to make a quick stop," he relayed, a bit flustered.

Jackie didn't have a chance to reply as Yuz parked the car in a space along a busy sidewalk and got out of the vehicle. Jackie watched from the side mirror, losing him in the crowd, until catching him turning down an alley.

Jackie waited. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, and her clothes clung to her skin. The stickiness filled the car without the air conditioning on. She cracked open the passenger door for some relief and pinched the collar of her shirt to fan some air in there.

"Sorry about that." Yuz appeared moments later, beaming a golden smile. He plopped a brown paper bag in the back seat. His beanie sat slightly out of place compared to how it had initially been. He returned to the driver's seat, started the car, and they were back on their way.

They pulled up to the building that housed the dojo, a few stories high. Large windows enveloped the first floor, all with charcoal grey shades drawn over them. Entering through a side door that required a key, Jackie caught her first glimpse of the interior with all the lights off. The space was huge, with an opening for training equipment strategically spaced around the outside of the blue mat in the middle of the dark wood flooring.

"It's nice, right?" Yuz's comment interrupted Jackie's excited gawking. He gestured to proceed up the stairs.

Jackie followed Yuz up to the third floor. In the vast hall, there were four doors. Yuz opened number 4. The cozy studio apartment was slightly furnished, and Jackie dropped her bags next to the couch.

"Ready for the club?" Yuz asked eagerly.

Reluctantly, Jackie nodded. Jet-lagged and time-zone confused, she wanted nothing more than to fall flat on the sofa and sleep for a day straight, but she felt she owed it to him. Even if at the cost of braving three flights of stairs a second time.

The club was three blocks away, within walking distance, but they still drove. The interior reflected urban Hong Kong, with matching neon signs and art spray-painted on the walls. Yuz then showed her downstairs, the VIP basement.

Yuz disappeared to his office with the bag. "This floor is for a particular crowd. Looks a lot nicer with the lighting," he explained from inside.

It had a dark vibe, dissimilar from the club's upper level, with several stages, long booths, and tables around the sides. Even the room began to get smoky.

"Is it supposed to be foggy down here?" Jackie inquired, confused.

"I promise it's not haunted." He laughed when he came out, witnessed the fog filling the room, went to a nearby stage, and unplugged a cord: "The smoke machine's acting up again."

Yuz reached for the door handle back up the stairs, but someone opened it from the other side.

"There you are," Sensei Wolf told Yuz in the doorway, holding the door open for them.

Jackie passed before him, thinking: He smells nice— wait, did I forget deodorant?

"Jacquelyn, how was your flight?"

"Miserable," she declared, smiling brightly at him. "But I made it in one piece, so can't complain."

Before Sensei Wolf could respond to her, Yuz held up a finger, "Jackie, excuse us a minute," he tugged Sensei Wolf to the side.

"What is it?" he questioned.

Yuz had to express his bottled thoughts. “Feng,” he put a hand on his shoulder. «I'm in love.»

«Here we go,» Sensei Wolf rolled his eyes.

«Jackie's perfect for the VIP crowd,» Yuz rubbed his hands together.

«Not a chance,» Sensei Wolf shook his head. «Keep her up here with the tourists. And don't try anything stupid. She's here to be my student.»

«Come on, you know I always need prettier girls for VIP,» Yuz complained.

«Remind me why I haven't strangled you yet.»

Yuz raised his hands in surrender before chortling, «Don't get jealous, Feng.»

«Grow up.» He shoved Yuz's shoulder. «Are you done wasting my time?»

Jackie stood rocking on her heels while they continued discussing. She glanced around, sneaking a few seconds at a time to observe Sensei Wolf. He appeared to be irritated with Yuz. His hair was a bit longer than when they first met, a few loose strands attractively falling over his forehead. Jackie felt a slight wave in her stomach. "Are you checking him out? What's wrong with you?" Jackie mentally scolded herself.

Yuz and Sensei Wolf turned back to Jackie. "Apologies. We just had to hammer out some details."

One kitchen staff member scurried out to Yuz, frantically relaying something. Yuz looked down, shaking his head.

"Sounds like you have a mess to clean," Sensei Wolf advised, putting his sunglasses back on. "I'll leave you to it. See you Monday, Jackie. Don't be late."

"You got it, Sensei." Jackie beamed as she waved. Her eyes followed him out the double doors to a dark blue sports car that roared as he turned the engine over. Jackie averted her eyes back to Yuz.

"Well, since I'm here already, need help with that mess?" Jackie offered.

"You're an angel," Yuz praised. "It's this way."

In the kitchen, Yuz opened the industrial fridge filled with spoiled food. A few hours later, when they finished cleaning it, Jackie met Yuz behind the bar. Yuz poured them each a shot, and they threw them back.

"Ijuela," Jackie coughed, "is it supposed to burn like that?"

"Yes, it is," he laughed. "Go, get some rest. I'll let you know what time to be here tomorrow."

They exchanged goodbyes, and Jackie walked back to the dojo and up to her apartment. A box was sitting in front of her door. Unlocking the door, she brought it inside, setting it next to her luggage, then sat down cross-legged and lifted the lid.

"Aw yeah," Jackie exclaimed, removing all the Iron Dragons gear inside. As she pulled everything out, a folded note slipped out and fluttered to the floor. She leaned over to pick it up, quickly flipping it open.

"Welcome to Hong Kong. The real training begins now."

A grin spread across her face, and warmth rose to her cheeks. She could almost hear Sensei Wolf's voice in her mind. Monday can't come soon enough, she thought. Still with a broad smile, Jackie unzipped her backpack and took out her journal. She smoothed the note and tucked it into the transparent front pocket, sealing the book with a contented sigh and a renewed sense of purpose.

Jackie utilized the weekend to buy food with the money she had left over and organize her few things in the apartment. The following two nights working at the club, she bounced around from bussing tables to washing dishes.

On Monday afternoon, Jackie hustled downstairs. The lights were on, but no one had arrived yet. She took advantage of the privacy and explored, stopping at a wall in the dojo dedicated to trophies, medals, and ribbons. The level of performance at this dojo made her question whether she was good enough to be there. She'd have her work cut out to make the top six in the class.

Footsteps down the stairs and the doors opening drew her attention away. The trio entering from the stairs raised their brows, exchanging confused glances and approaching her.

"Are you lost?" The guy with long hair asked her condescendingly.

"Know how to read?" Jackie clapped back, smoothing out the part of the shirt that said 'Iron Dragons Karate.'

“Ms. America won't last a week,” he snickered to the other two. "Don't get too comfortable," he advised, patting Jackie's shoulder. Jackie knocked his arm away forcefully.

"Enough," Sensei Wolf's voice sounded behind Jackie. "Jian, on the mat now."

Jian shot Jackie a sly smirk as she rotated to face Sensei Wolf.

"Eager to fight, are we?"

"Uh... no?" Jackie stammered, pointing her eyes to her feet.

"Are you answering me or the floor?" Sensei Wolf snapped. "Look at me."

Startled, Jackie lifted her head obediently— his stone-faced stare devoid of any hint of empathy she'd ever seen from him.

"Time to prove your worth," he exhorted, motioning for her to follow suit and get on the mat. Jackie hurried to the center, Sensei Wolf close behind, and all the other students formed a circle.

"Begin!" His voice carried throughout the dojo.

Jian and Jackie bowed to each other. Jian showboated with flips, spinning around Jackie, and caught her unprepared with a rough kick to the stomach. Jackie fell flat.

"You look good on your back," Jian taunted, eliciting laughter among other students who heard the remark. He strutted around flexing exaggeratedly.

Jackie managed to get back on one knee, shifting her glance around the room. She noted the heckling faces and Sensei Wolf crossing his arms in utter displeasure with her performance.

Focus. A mantis prays before it strikes. Jackie remembered her mom's lesson, put her hands together, and shut her eyes momentarily. Even more laughter arose.

Jian pointed at her, making fun of the pose, and came at her with a kick. Jackie slapped his foot down. She hopped up and delivered a high jump kick to his jaw. The class collectively oohed at the impact, and Jian stayed laid out.

Jackie stood over him, hands on her hips. "Enjoy the view from down there, cerote," Jackie mocked, a rush of pride washing over her. She set her hands to the side and bowed before joining the circle. One of Jian's friends helped him off the floor, staggering to line up with the rest of the class.

Sensei Wolf chose another pair to spar, circling them as they contended, but paused briefly before Jackie.

"There may be hope for you yet, Ms. Rojas," Sensei Wolf admitted.

"Thank you, Sensei," she faltered. He continued pacing, leaving Jackie bewildered by her experience in her first class. She noticed Jian across from her, sending her a hateful glare.

«Look at her,» Jian leaned in to whisper to his buddy. «She has no idea what we have in store for her.»

>-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·° 火°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.->

*𝕕𝕚𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝 𝕝𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣*

𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕀 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕. 𝕄𝕪 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙 𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 😅 𝕖𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕪, 𝕀 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥.

𝕀'𝕞 𝕒𝕚𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜.𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕖𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕥𝕨𝕠-𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜 𝕞𝕒𝕩. 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕝.

𝕆𝕗 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕀 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕔𝕜 𝕠𝕟 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤 😂

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖.

𝕌𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟, 𝕞𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤!

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pinkneonvibes · 3 months ago

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2) ᒍᑌᔕT ᗩ TIᑎY ᔕᑭᗩᖇK {ꜰᴜᴇɢᴏ}

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Santa Catarina, Brazil - June 2015

Jackie rushed from the hotel in Urubici, where she'd stayed with her parents for the last two months, to her Capoeira class, hastily tying her hair up in a messy bun. Of all days for her to run late, it had to be the one day her instructor specifically told her to arrive on time. Thankfully, she only had to sprint to the end of the road.

Jackie happened upon Grupo Chama do Sol during a walk the first week she arrived, oversleeping one morning while her parents were hurrying to leave for the São Joaquim National Park. They couldn't wait for her since the trip from the hotel to the park was an hour's drive. That evening, Jackie practically begged them to let her join, arguing the benefits; mainly, they'd avoid dealing with her carsickness twice a day.

This Capoeira class, in particular, rarely held full-contact sessions, and since it was so dancelike, her parents gave in. That became her first and only formal training.

After a 'fighting' incident on a camping trip where she got injured, karate became taboo among her family. If the topic arose in conversation, her dad, without fail, would harshly deter her, instead occupying her free time learning to tend to the animals at the wildlife rescue her parents managed in Ohio.

Jackie never understood why her mom, who taught her, refused to defend her fondness for karate. But then again, Jackie's parents developed plenty of secrecy surrounding the incident.

Despite their discouragement, Jackie's interest in most things martial arts-related remained. Locked away in her room, she continued practicing daily and studying other fighting styles over time, knowing to hide that whole side of her from everyone remarkably well.

Jackie's first week in class, she impressed her instructor, Mestre Borrega, with her fervor and the pace at which she learned. Once she explained her history and adoration of karate, he permitted Jackie to stay after class, giving her freedom and space to practice all the knowledge her mom passed down and what she gained on her own, which Jackie compiled into a journal.

With the door propped open, she jogged in, setting her duffel bag along the rear wall and tucking her phone and headphones in the mesh side pocket. Ready to file in toward the back of the group, she paused in her tracks. Where is everyone? she wondered. There were no other students present.

Mestre Borrega stood in the corner of the room with his son Paolo, speaking to a man with his back to her. On his black, sleeveless hoodie, a fierce white dragon.

"Ah, Jackie." Mestre Borrega waved her over when she caught his eye, and the stranger turned around, piercing dark brown eyes to complement his jet-black hair. "My good friend, Sensei Wolf. And this is my best pupil, Jacquelyn Rojas."

"Thanks, but that's an overstatement," Jackie responded sheepishly. Paolo remained in the corner, rolling his eyes at the interaction. Paolo made his distaste for Jackie apparent since she'd never give in to his constant flirting.

"No need to be modest," Sensei Wolf spoke, drawing her full attention back. "Mestre Borrega's told me so much about your self-taught karate, I had to see for myself."

"Oh," Jackie struggled to articulate her thoughts into words. "Well, I mean, not all self-taught. My great-grandpa learned from an Okinawan friend in World War II, and he taught grandpa, my mom, and then she taught me. I picked stuff up here and there." Jackie cringed internally, believing she had only succeeded in rambling to this guy.

Before she could dwell on it any longer, Mestre Borrega told her to take a few minutes to warm up before performing a kata demonstration. Jackie's anxiety levels crept up. She'd never demonstrated for anyone besides Mr. Miyagi when she met him, and that was when she was extremely young.

Once ready, Jackie proceeded through the most advanced kata she knew, with extra difficulty, focusing on her movements, rather than Sensei Wolf, silent next to Mestre Borrega at the front of the class, scrutinizing every action. A few perfectly executed moves settled Jackie down, and she continued gracefully until she finished it with a bow.

"Excellent form," Sensei Wolf commended. "But how's your sparring?"

"Um, alright. I guess." Jackie admitted reluctantly, tucking a loose strand of chestnut hair that escaped her bun behind her ear. "I haven't sparred much."

At that, Paolo strolled onto the mat. «Let's get this over with,» he griped in Portuguese.

Mestre Borrega shot him a disapproving glare before having them take their positions. "First to three strikes wins." He looked between Jackie and Paolo to ensure they understood the rules.

Jackie nodded and took a deep breath, attempting to steel her nerves. They bowed to each other. Paolo surged toward her with an intense straight kick, and Jackie sidestepped it. Scarcely touched by the breeze he created, she patiently waited loose in her stance.

Irritated, Paolo veered around and scowled at her. Closing in with a flip, he fired rapid punches. Left, right, left, blocked. And again, but this time, Jackie elbowed his left arm down, countering with a backhand strike to his face. The impact got her blood pumping and brought a confident smile to her lips.

"Point." Mestre Borrega called the first point with a proud smile.

Paolo was reeling, furiously swinging at her. Jackie gauged that his combos were too wide. She spun to his side, grabbing his wrist and yanking him forward to kick him in the chest. Sensei Wolf called the second point. Dropping to his knees, Paolo smacked the mat angrily.

Jackie retreated to maintain distance. Growling, Paolo ran and managed to snatch her by the waist with a takedown. They struggled on the ground while he tried to pin her down. She drew her knees to her chest, kicking him off with both legs. Jackie remained on one knee when he rushed in crouched, and she heel-kicked him in the chin. Paolo landed flat on his back with a dull thud.

"That's three!" Mestre Borrega clapped, coming to help Paolo. «And that's what you get,» he declared to Paolo, leading him to a seat against the wall.

"Solid win." Sensei Wolf strode in front of her. "Now, think you can hit me?" he invited brashly. He didn't even take a stance; he stood firm with his hands behind his back.

Is this dude serious? Jackie thought as she raised a brow, then commenced with kicks as she moved in closer. He ducked and weaved, his hands in the same place. He caught her off guard when he dropped for a sweep.

"You'll have to do better than that," Sensei Wolf asserted.

Jackie grunted, slightly winded, pushing herself off the mat with her knuckles. Back on her feet, she drove at him harder now that he taunted her.

Attempting a Capoeira armada kick, she came millimeters from connecting with his face. But he read her attack and leaned back. From then on, every combination met a powerful block. Jackie's forearms and shins ached. Her effort for a punch, he grabbed her arm and flipped her down hard.

"Well, at least you tried." Sensei Wolf offered his hand with a cocky smirk.

Jackie winced while sitting up, gradually accepting the assistance. He raised her to her feet with minimal effort. Mestre Borrega sent her to take a water break. Rubbing her hip briefly, she moseyed to her duffel bag, dumbfounded. Who the hell is this guy?

"So what do you think?" Mestre Borrega gestured to Jackie, who plopped down, sipping from her water bottle.

Sensei Wolf assessed her for a moment. "I'll admit the style is... Unique."

"But you have doubts," Mestre Borrega surmised. "You were expecting her to hit you?"

Sensei Wolf chuckled, "None of your students could ever hit me, Davi."

For someone who had never set foot in a dojo, Sensei Wolf believed Jackie displayed skill and, with her background, would be a surprising addition to his Iron Dragons. "Let's talk with her parents, then," he decided.

Mestre Borrega was pleased. He patted Sensei Wolf on the shoulder as he headed toward a disheartened Jackie.

"Don't be too hard on yourself." Sensei Wolf leaned against the wall. "Despite your lack of training, you did alright."

"Thanks," Jackie replied, not taking him seriously while rising to her feet. "Bet I don't compare to any of your students, though."

"My Iron Dragons have been through rigorous training most of their lives. But you showed instinct. No one can teach that, Jacquelyn, not even me."

Despite his statement's hint of conceit, the encouragement made Jackie feel slightly better about the embarrassing effort she believed she put forth.

"When will your parents be in?" Sensei Wolf inquired.

Jackie checked her phone for the time, "They'll prob'ly be back in an hour or two."

"Mestre Borrega and I want to speak with you and your parents. We'll be at Céu Estrelado, near the hotel. Join us there?"

"Sure thing." Jackie gathered her things together and hustled back to the hotel. She showered and changed, anxiously awaiting her parents in the hotel room. The two most extensive hours of her life were spent as she chastised herself for the lapse of judgment in accepting Sensei Wolf's invitation. The karate cat was about to be out of the bag. She extended the invite when her parents opened the door, and her mom and dad exchanged glances.

"I guess we can have a few drinks. Why not?" Jackie's dad, Reuben, conceded.

Together, they walked to Céu Estrelado, entering underneath the grassy roof, colorful string lights draped throughout, and the restaurant aglow in warmth. Mestre Borrega met them at the entrance and led them to their outdoor table. Sensei Wolf rose, shaking her parents' hands as they presented themselves.

Jackie slid into the booth between her mom and dad, and the waitress took their drink orders. Sensei Wolf made small talk with her parents for a bit, chatting about their professions. Jackie observed quietly, picking at the threads in the knees of her torn jeans.

"I'm sure you're wondering why we wanted to meet." Sensei Wolf slid a Championship Karate magazine across the table. "Have you ever heard of the Sekai Taikai?" They hadn't, reacting with shaking heads.

"To put it simply, the Sekai Taikai is the most prestigious karate tournament in the world." Sensei Wolf explained.

"Sensei Wolf here is a three-time Sekai Taikai champion." Mestre Borrega added with a large grin.

"That checks out," Jackie laughed softly, swirling the ice in her cup with the straw.

Sensei Wolf smiled and continued, "The next competition will be in Tokyo, and this will be the first year my dojo enters. Mestre Borrega knew of my interest in recruiting more international students and persuaded me to consider your daughter."

Jackie's heart raced, hanging onto every word as her mind buzzed a mile a minute.

"Another new student here in Brazil is leaving with me for Hong Kong at the end of the week. And with your permission," he looked to her parents, "I'd like Jackie to join us."

"Early birthday present?" Jackie joked to lighten her parents' moods, excitedly nudging her mom and dad. Their countenance remained stoic as they sipped their drinks. Jackie wondered how they processed that she had persisted with karate for so long under their noses.

Still, a successful, three-time world champion, the living embodiment of a successful career in karate, wanted to give her a shot at fighting in a world tournament. Surely, her parents would see this as a fantastic opportunity. Or so she hoped.

Jackie's dad briefly flipped through the magazine. "My wife and I need some time to discuss this."

"Of course," Sensei Wolf wrote down his number and gave it to Jackie's dad. "It's a big decision."

Back at the hotel for the night, Jackie's parents stayed unusually silent on the couch, with Dad clacking away on his laptop and Mom reading on her tablet.

"So," Jackie sat on the ottoman before them. "What do you think about—"

"There's nothing to think about, the answer's no," her dad interrupted, not bothering to look up at her.

"Oh, come on!" Jackie threw her hands up in the air. "Did you hear what he said? This competition is a big deal!"

"Honey, karate isn't about competitions," her mom said to soften the blow. "Besides, your first semester courses start in August. And that scholarship won't wait for you."

"I graduated early. Doesn't that prove I'm competent enough to get a job and start college when I'm ready? Besides, someone out there needs the scholarship more than I do, Ma." Jackie reasoned.

"Esta patoja," her dad grumbled, shaking his head, highly disappointed. "You've been lying to us for years about esa basura, letting us think you gave it up to drop it on us like this."

"I'm sorry, okay, but it's not garbage. I've always loved it," Jackie defended. "Please, Dad, something like this doesn't come around every day."

"That Sensei got you on the hook, didn't he?" Her dad slammed the laptop shut. "There's only one thing a young guy like that wants from a naive girl like you."

"Reuben, maybe that's a bit much," Jackie's mom whispered.

Fuming from her disgust at the insinuation, Jackie spitefully remarked, "I think a young guy like that doesn't go through that much trouble to get laid."

"No seas cochina," her dad glowered at her.

"You took it there first!" Jackie stood up, pointing at her dad.

"Sweetheart, calm down," her mom warned.

Jackie carried on, unable to contain her outrage toward her dad. "You called me a liar, naive, and a pig. I'm sick of you bashing anything that doesn't align with your plans for my life! It's bullshit!"

"Enough!" Her dad stood up, yelling as he lurched forward and seized her bicep, glaring down at her.

Jackie's mom got in between them and broke it up in a flash.

Angry tears swam in Jackie's eyes, and she fled to her room. She buried her face in her pillow and sobbed, faintly hearing her parents arguing. Hours later, once the tears ran out, she put on her headphones and stared at the wood-paneled ceiling.

If only my birthday were a little sooner, she thought. Then, she wouldn't need their approval. Languishing over her lost opportunity, she stayed awake all night on her phone, researching the Iron Dragons and watching any videos she could find.

Early the next morning, she left the room for some water. Jackie set a bottle from the fridge on the counter while grabbing a snack. When she lifted the bottle, she noticed a crumpled paper stuck to it and peeled it off. Sensei Wolf's number. Sliding on her flip-flops, she snuck to the hotel lobby.

She sent a quick text, and he responded, so she called.

"Hi, Sensei Wolf. Um, would it be an issue if I got to Hong Kong in like three weeks? My birthday is July 14th, and it won't be my parents' decision anymore."

"Well," he sighed, "you already have catching up to do. And, honestly, you're already starting at the bottom of the class."

His words stung, but Jackie responded maturely. "I understand, but it's worth the risk. I'll get a job over there to pay my way, whatever it takes. Even for the slightest chance of making it to the Sekai Taikai."

"I admire your determination," he paused, leaving Jackie in suspense. "I can probably call in a favor for some work when you get here."

"For real?" Jackie asked, elated. "I'd appreciate that. Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," he said. "Be sure to send me your flight info."

"Sure thing, Sensei. Bye." Jackie danced around the hotel lobby, earning a strange look from the morning clerk, but she was too ecstatic to care.

The following week, Jackie and her parents returned home to Ohio. Jackie actively avoided them, never speaking more than a few words daily. Under their radar, she worked out and trained wherever she could fit it. She checked flights departing to Hong Kong every few days before her birthday. A 4:00 AM flight on July 15th fell within her timeframe and budget of a thousand dollars in graduation money.

At midnight on the 15th, her mom's purse hung over the back of the breakfast island chairs. Jackie took her mom's credit card and bought the ticket. As soon as she finished, she tucked the card, a handwritten letter, and seven hundred cash into her mom's purse to cover the ticket and an Uber to the airport. Jackie set her pickup location to the corner house on the block.

In her room, she knelt, saying a prayer before dragging her packed suitcase out from under her bed, carefully carrying it down the stairs, and slipping out the front door.

>-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·° 火°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.->

𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕠𝕟 𝕒 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕥𝕣𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜. 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕝𝕝, 𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕚𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕝. 𝕀 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖. 𝔸𝕚𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟛 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜 𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕩. 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘! 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖.

𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕚𝕤, 𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤! 😂🔥

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pinkneonvibes · 3 months ago

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Just finished a mass update on Wattpad and Tumblr, and finally released the 4th chapter of LUX BRUMALIS! Thank you to everyone who checks out my work, whether you like it or not, but especially if you do. I love you all!

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pinkneonvibes · 3 months ago

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{𝕀𝕍} ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒 ℕ𝕠𝕟 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕒 {𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟} - LUX BRUMALIS

CRASH!

Sam dropped a mangled drone on the pavement in front of Bucky before landing a few yards away.

"Weren't you supposed to get one of those intact?" Bucky crossed his arms, shaking his head unimpressed at Sam's retrieval.

Sam cocked his head to the side and retorted, "How 'bout you bring one of these damn things back in one piece while it's busy self-destructin' on you, Buck."

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. "Relax, man. Geez." He began piling up the loose pieces of the machine, trying to salvage as much as he could for analysis. Sam composed himself, wiping off some of the debris from his suit as he approached Bucky. He spotted Steve, his red, white, and blue uniform sticking out among a sea of black-clad S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, speaking with Agent 13, Sharon Carter.

"Our boy work up the nerve to ask her out yet?" Sam smirked, gesturing toward the pair.

"You kiddin'?" Bucky peeked back at Steve and Sharon, sighing."'Course he didn't. Don't know how many more ways I can tell this guy she'd never turn him down."

Sam laughed as Bucky effortlessly lifted the drone and headed toward their grounded Quinjet. Sam had to break into a jog to catch up to him. "Whoa, wait up. What about our new friends over there?" he asked. Sam referred to the offenders who attacked Evy, cuffed separately in three heavily guarded, inconspicuous box trucks, departing on separate routes.

"Sang like canaries, but that didn't get us anywhere." He glanced over at Sam, waiting expectantly for further information. "They're freelancers with long rap sheets. No contact with who hired them, just the job, paid with laundered cash."

"Virtually nothing?" Sam concluded.

"For now. Stark and Rhodey are checking the drop site," Bucky responded as they headed up the ramp. He set the device in the cargo area and began tying it down.

Sam cleared his throat, obviously changing the subject. "So..." He drawled out. "You and Clint bury the hatchet yet?"

"He's the one with the problem." Bucky shot back all too quickly.

"Ah, c'mon, Buck, don't be like that." Sam folded his arms over his chest. "Look, man, I get it. Sure his girl kicked your ass and left you lookin' like the Kool-Aid man for a couple of days—"

"The what?" Bucky interrupted, squinting his eyes at Sam like he sprouted an extra head. "And she didn't kick my ass," accentuating his objection by harshly pointing his index finger at Sam.

"I beg to differ." Sam grinned mischievously.

"'Cause you're impossible," Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes and finishing his task.

"But seriously, man." Sam continued. "You two don't need to go through all that mess again. You barely started to tolerate each other after the whole Nat—"

"Don't go there, birdman." Bucky cut him off, giving him a cold stare as he rose. The disappointment of his and Natasha's failed attempt at rekindling a relationship was still too fresh, and Sam was well aware.

Sam set his fists on his hips. "Y'know, I'm gettin' real tired of your attitude again, too."

"Sam..." Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, endeavoring to hold on to his last ounce of patience. "Go get Steve so we can get the fuck outta here."

"Now, Bucky," Sam said, patting Bucky's shoulder. A smile crept up on his lips. "I'm gonna have to tell Steve you used that foul language."

Bucky reached down and ripped off a dangling section of the drone. Sam ran down the ramp laughing as Bucky chucked the hunk of metal in his direction.

Sam poked his head back at the entrance, "Ya missed me," he taunted.

"Next time, I won't." Bucky hollered as he sat at the controls, eagerly setting course for home at the Avengers Tower to be over with the bust of a mission.

"Everything okay in here?" Steve asked from behind.

Bucky turned around to respond, surprised to find Sharon on board alongside Steve.

"Change of plans." She announced.

"My day keeps getting better and better," Bucky muttered.

Clint piloted his and Nat's Quinjet in stealth over the Atlantic, taking extra precautions to avoid anything or anyone that could tail them to the safe house. A presently unidentified enemy with tech comparable to Tony Stark's had the Avengers on extremely high alert. J.A.R.V.I.S. notified them of an incoming transmission from Sergeant Barnes. Clint ignored the notice, letting the chiming continue as if it weren't even there.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" Natasha asked, raising a brow.

"Nope," Clint replied nonchalantly. He set the vessel on autopilot, unhooked his harness, and headed for the back of the jet.

Natasha shook her head. "When did I become the only adult around here?" She grumbled, acknowledged J.A.R.V.I.S., and took the call.

Clint stood before Evy, currently wincing through the tail end of a muscle spasm.

"I can remember the first time I got electrocuted," he grimaced, "not fun." Clint rummaged through the nearby first-aid supplies to get Evy something for her pain. "How're you holdin' up, kid?"

The pain gradually subsided, and she lifted her head and shot him a narrow-eyed scowl. "Que piensas?" Evy huffed hoarsely, tugging with cuffed hands at the bulky power inhibitor, still firmly in place on her neck.

"Mm-hmm." He momentarily stopped looking through the kit, tilted back to peek at Natasha, still distracted by the communication, and motioned for Evy to hold the cuffs up. As she did, he released them.

Evy sighed in relief, rubbing her newly freed and irritated wrists. Clint returned to the kit and handed her two ibuprofen pills and a small water bottle. She rolled the tablets in her hands to verify the stamp on them before she popped them and downed the water. Evy passed him the empty bottle and waited expectantly for the collar to come off next, but Clint didn't remove it.

"For real," she griped, "C'mon Clint, get this damn thing off me. I'm not gonna go kamikaze on you."

"Not my call, Vee." he relayed regrettably, shrugging, "The collar has to stay on."

"Oh, bullshit," Evy grumbled. She leaned back and crossed her arms, longing to blackout her complexion and conceal any emotions threatening to burst all over her face. Stubbornly, she weighed testing her luck, but she wasn't a pilot. And with the inhibitor in place and her injuries, she was no match for Nat and Clint.

Clint took a seat beside her. "Well, kid, there are consequences when you get caught ripping off an arms deal. Which, I'll admit, has to be the last place I'd ever expect to find you."

"Would've been better if you hadn't," she declared bluntly, her eyes pointed straight ahead, away from him. Years prior, on the frigid steel floor of a cell, she convinced herself they'd never cross paths again; that her adoptive family in Clint and Laura finally had children of their own, and her disappearance hadn't warranted a second thought.

"Really? 'Cause you prob'ly would've been dead twice in the past week. And you seem to have a lot of self-preservation left in you," he responded matter-of-factly.

"Pft. Don't kid yourself," she retorted, shaking her head. "I was about to be set for life. Everything went to hell when you clowns showed up."

"So, you were gonna take the cash, and what, buy yourself an island?" Clint teased with a smirk.

"How stupid do you think I am?" Evy rolled her eyes, refusing to divulge any information about her crime. Finding out about the deal had been so sudden that she only managed to plan to travel South, stopping before the common spoken language changed to Portuguese.

"Well, you did get caught," he persisted jokingly, hoping Evy's sense of humor would shine through.

She didn't budge, though, visibly more agitated than before. After a few minutes of silence, the most looming question in his mind formulated into words. "How come you never told me you were havin' issues with Laura?"

"Maybe ask her why she hates me so much," she countered rapidly. Evy was surprised at how sore the subject still was.

"I would if I could..." he trailed off softly. "She started goin' back out on assignment, and well..."

Evy felt a tugging at her heart for his loss, but wouldn't express any sympathy to him, as high as her guard was up.

Clint shook it off and resumed his line of questioning. "Did I ever give you a reason not to trust me? You couldn't've waited for me instead of running away?"

Evy's heart pounded at the question, brows knit in confusion as it hit her like a punch to the gut that launched her back to the moment she was taken. From peaceful sleep on the front porch swing to a bag over her head and a needle jabbed in her neck. "I—I didn't..." Evy's voice cracked. She stopped speaking. She'd assumed they knew she was taken, that it was her fault by drawing attention to herself, ignoring the warnings of practicing her powers in the open.

Natasha walked up as a shocked Clint was about to inquire more. Now left with more questions than answers. "I need you back up front."

"Give me a sec," he told Natahsa.

"It can't wait." Natasha urged. Clint looked at Evy, disheveled and exhausted, with a disquieted expression on her face. She raised her hand and waved him away, mentally scolding herself for the moment of weakness. Clint conceded and followed Natasha.

"That was Sharon," she explained, leading him toward the front of the jet. "Our orders are to change course and bring Evy in for her interrogation now."

"You gotta be kiddin' me," he glanced back at Evy. She lay across the empty seats, using her arm for a pillow, tightly shutting her eyes in hopes of silencing the intrusion of memories from her early days of captivity and succumbing to sleep.

"Something must've changed Hill's mind." Nat drew back his attention.

"Bad enough Evy doesn't trust us anymore, this sure as hell isn't gonna help," he declared as he plopped down, settling back into the pilot's chair.

"Our hands are tied on this one. You're putting the cuffs back on her, by the way." Natasha sassed.

"She just told me she didn't run away, Nat." He paused, speaking only loud enough for the conversation to remain between the pair.

"What? Did she say what happened?" Natasha recalled the scene of Evy's bedroom, returning upon her disappearance, Laura in tears. Drawers left half open, clothing strewn about. Evy's statement didn't add up with that evidence.

"We didn't get that far," he admitted. "But I always had this feeling. I never should've stopped lookin' for her."

"Clint," Natasha reached out and held his hand. "Don't do that to yourself. There was no reason to believe anything different at the time. Placing blame on yourself won't change anything."

"I swore up and down to her I'd keep her safe. But I didn't." He persisted. "And she was right under our noses for years."

"You're the reason she's safe now." Natasha reminded.

"Yeah, no thanks to Barnes." His volume increased as he pulled his hand from hers, "That prick almost got her killed today."

"He may have endorsed the idea, but we all agreed to the plan." Natasha reasoned, maintaining a level head.

"Why do you do that?" he snapped.

"Do what?"

"Come to his defense all the damn time!" his voice raised half an octave.

"I'm not defending him; it's true." Natasha asserted. "Honestly, Clint, how quickly you forgot he took a bullet out of her to save her life. For you."

"Whatever," he mumbled, giving up on disputing with her, unconvinced that her explanation was entirely genuine given Bucky's and her history.

The flight proceeded for over an hour without conversation until J.A.R.V.I.S. sounded in the jet. "Captain Rogers is calling."

"Got the all clear." The Captain reported. "Let's bring her in."

The Quinjet began its descent, jerking Evy awake. Reflexively, she reached for something to grip tightly, sensing she'd fall as the jet touched down. Nat and Clint unstrapped from their seats, Clint approached Evy and cuffed her before she could protest. Nat activated the ramp panel. Natasha held out her hand to help her up, which Evy ignored, so Natasha stepped aside, allowing her to rise unassisted.

Descending the slope between them, Evy's stomach churned at the sight of the crowd of agents waiting on the landing pad. Two women, the brunette in black and the blonde in white, stood in the center of two rows of soldiers.

"Wait, what the hell is this, Clint?" Evy grabbed his wrist, halting him in his tracks. "I thought you said we were going to a safe house."

"I know, I know. Trust me, it wasn't supposed to go down like this," Clint pleaded. "Tell them what they need to know, and I'll do everything I can to help you."

"Hand-delivering me to the cerotes I've been workin' my ass off to avoid is the opposite of helping me!"

"Is there a problem, Agent Barton?" Assistant Director Hill called out.

"Nope, no problem!" He turned back to Evy, asking quietly, "Right?"

Evy grumbled, hanging her head. Clint took her arm and walked her to the center. Two armored agents stepped out before them, each grabbing Evy by a bicep. Evy's heart thudded profusely in her chest as they made Clint let her go.

"They'll take it from here." Sharon stepped up between Clint and Natasha before they could follow.

Clint opened his mouth to object, but Maria didn't give him the chance to speak.

"You're both too close to this," Maria explained, "Wait here, or go home." Clint and Natasha were left on the tarmac, watching her be led into the building.

Ｍｅａｎｗｈｉｌｅ:

Black-on-black suited pistol-armed guards stood before massive, embellished French doors. Footsteps echoed through the elongated hallway. A man in a brown leather jacket clutched a manila folder firmly in his hand, approached, and halted before them. They patted him down and waved a metal detector around I'm for weapons, and let him through when they deemed he was clean, shutting the doors behind him.

"Sir? You wanted to see me?" Asking at the entrance of the room as he stood straight at attention.

"Proceed, Dante." A refined voice boomed from deep within.

Dante adjusted the folder as he walked to the end of the grand study. Generals' and lords' armor from the world's great empires lined the walls until the vast desk.

"Explain yourself,"

"Sir?" Dante wondered, confused.

"Did you not take it upon yourself to orchestrate an incursion against the Avengers?"

"Yes, sir. We located the one who attacked the preliminary sale and survived the venenum rounds, but she wasn't in the S.H.I.E.L.D. envoy. I eliminated the possibility of them tracing the weapons to you--"

He raised a gloved hand, and Dante fell silent.

"Dante, our innovators have labored tirelessly to ensure the venenum rounds and our various other prototypes are impossible to trace. If you paid appropriate attention to the inner workings of the organization you've pledged your life to, as you claimed before you were entrusted with this task, you would be aware of this fact."

He parted his lips to respond, but instead swallowed back the fearful lump in his throat.

"Given your incapability to speak, allow me to summarize for you: The Avengers rescued a lone survivor of an untraceable substance without knowledge of our existence. Once you located her, you felt the urge to send an armada of drones and hire men hardly to be trusted outside our organization to capture her, thus possibly exposing everything." He paused for a few moments to let his summary sink in. "Does that sound correct?"

"I-- um, uh." he cleared his throat. "Sir, my only intention was to protect you."

"Your intention caused you to supersede my authority." He sighed. "The logic of fools is what puts our work in jeopardy."

Dante began to panic, attempting to bargain and beg. But his pleas went ignored.

"Are you familiar with the phrase, persona non grata?"

Dante's eyes widened and froze in two instants. His assassin, hidden amongst the armor, slit his throat using one of the swords displayed in the room.

"I'm sure you are now," he mocked. "Clean this filth," he commanded.

The assassin delivered the folder to the gloved man. The edge was still dripping warm blood. He took the silk pocket square from his suit and wiped it. Flipping through the surveillance photos of damaged vehicles and structures, he lingered on a photo of a burst of light, studying the silhouette in the center as his men were mid-collapse around it.

"The survivor," he surmised, "Interesting." He slid the picture aside. He resumed browsing, almost setting down the final photo with the rest of the pile, he noticed a glint in the dim of the photo. Doing a double-take, he realized it was a metallic left arm with a rifle in hand.

"The Winter Soldier... Interesting indeed."

▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀

𝕆𝕦𝕣 𝕧𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕟 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖! 𝔻𝕦𝕟, 𝕕𝕦𝕟, 𝕕𝕦𝕟!

𝕀 𝕤𝕒𝕥 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘. 𝕀𝕥 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘. 𝕄𝕒𝕪 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣𝕤, 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕚𝕗 𝕀 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞. 𝕄𝕪 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕥.

𝔸𝕟𝕪𝕨𝕙𝕠! 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘! 𝕀'𝕞 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕔 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀'𝕞 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜𝕝𝕪, 𝕤𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒 𝕥𝕒𝕕.

𝕊𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖!

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>>>MASTERLISTS<<<

#Youtube #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x oc #bucky x original female character #winter soldier fanfiction

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pinkneonvibes · 3 months ago

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1) ᒪIKE ᗩ ᗰOTᕼ TO TᕼE ᖴᒪᗩᗰE {ꜰᴜᴇɢᴏ}

{Previous} {Next}

Havasu National Wildlife Refuge - March 2020

Jackie finished walking the tour group through the grounds, waving goodbye to the giddy children as she entered the main building. The forced smile dropped from her face as the door sealed shut. Taking her ball cap off, she flopped down on the small, brown couch in the break room, resting her head on the rough armrest. Tours always left her drained, and that week, more so, as an unusual heat wave hit Parker, Arizona.

Eager to go home and sleep in on her day off, Jackie pulled out her phone to check the time, noticing the missed calls from her mom. They weren't as close as when she was young when her parents nurtured her love for animals. As early as she could remember, she'd sit doe-eyed while Mom recited the story of Angel, the hawk she rescued in high school.

The story also included Mr. Miyagi and karate, followed by Mom's karate lessons, just like Mom's grandfather and Mr. Miyagi taught her. But Jackie cut her thoughts short as the subject presented itself. Karate came to be a bittersweet lost love.

After much internal debate, Jackie finally called her mom back. The tone seemed to go on forever.

"Hi, honey." Jackie's mom, Julie, answered the phone sweetly.

"Hey, ma," Jackie greeted through tight lips. She became antsy when she heard her mother's voice, standing up and pacing the tight area.

"Did you get the gift I sent you?"

Jackie furrowed her brows, considering the growing pile of mail stacked on her kitchen countertop, taking up valuable real estate in her tiny condo. But now that her mom mentioned it, Jackie didn't remember seeing anything when she took the mail out of the box.

"Uh, no, not yet." Jackie grabbed one of her cups from the cabinet and filled it with ice chips.

Crystal, the young lady from the front office, entered through the heavy door and called out for Jackie.

"Hold on a sec, ma." Jackie muted the phone. "What's up?" she asked, keeping an air of professionalism while holding her annoyance at bay.

"This is addressed to you." Crystal smacked her gum obnoxiously, unmistakably bothered by having to leave her excessively air-conditioned office. She held out the envelope with long, manicured nails.

Jackie got a quick mouthful of ice before she set the cup and her phone down. Wiping the water off her hands onto her black cargo shorts, she accepted the envelope and thanked Crystal.

No return address, Jackie wondered briefly, tearing open the envelope sloppily. A large ticket slowly floated to the ground. She picked it up and turned it over.

"Barcelona?" she questioned aloud, puzzled. She grabbed her phone quickly and asked her mom, "You got me a plane ticket to Spain?" There was silence, except for Jackie's faint crunching. Realizing she still had her phone muted, Jackie turned it off and repeated the question.

"I know you've always wanted to go to Europe, but no, honey. Why would I send it to your work?"

'Cause I practically live here, Jackie answered mentally, rolling her eyes. "There's a card too." She held the phone between her ear and shoulder, reaching her fingers in for the attached navy blue card.

The silver script, bearing her full name, glinted brightly under the light. Flipping the card open, Jackie's eyes were immediately drawn to the white dragon embossed on the top half. She gasped, inhaling a piece of ice and coughing profusely.

"Are you alright?" Her mom asked, concerned by the sudden outburst. "Jacquelyn?"

"I'm fine, ma." Jackie blurted out while catching her breath.

"How many times have I told you to stop eating ice like that?" Her mom complained.

"What are you, my mother?" Jackie sassed without missing a beat.

"Ha ha, as hilarious as ever," her mom deadpanned. "Well, what does the card say?"

"Uh, it says," Jackie cleared her throat, "'As a former member of the grand champion Iron Dragons, you have been cordially invited to attend the 2020 Sekai Taikai in Barcelona, Spain. All expenses will be paid courtesy of owner and Sensei... Terry Silver." Jackie's heart pounded as her voice wavered, but what did she expect? That card wasn't exactly Sensei Wolf's style. "And there's a number to make arrangements."

Her mom stayed silent on the other end of the phone.

"Mom?" Jackie glanced at her phone screen to ensure Mom wasn't muted again.

"Sweetheart," her mom sighed heavily. "I can tell you're not over whatever happened at that dojo."

"Of course I am, Mom," Jackie rebutted, "What kind of psycho do you think I am?"

"Hong Kong did something to you, alright..." her mom scoffed, "but you refuse to talk to anyone about it."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Jackie responded sarcastically.

"Honey, in the last four years, you've interacted more with animals than people."

"Oh, please," Jackie groaned. "You say that like it's a bad thing, ma."

"Making phony excuses to not spend holidays with us is a bad thing! If you'd just listened to your dad and I back then—"

"I don't need an 'I told you so' right now, Mom." Jackie snapped, cutting her off.

"Jackie..." her tone softened. "You need closure. Maybe it's time to stop running away and face this head-on," she encouraged.

"I don't know if he's gonna be there!" Jackie stopped as the comment slipped, still mulling over the dojo being under new ownership. "I'll talk to you later, Mom. Love you." Jackie hung up the phone abruptly. Mom's advice was sound, but Jackie's current mental state wasn't operating on reason. In her mind, not dealing with unresolved sentiments toward her former Sensei kept her functioning properly.

On the drive home, Jackie couldn't decide what to listen to; every song popping up in her entirely random library seemed to be about heartbreak, fueling her growing frustration. Stopping the music, she rolled down the windows. Now that the sun had set, the air was crisp and fresh.

At every stop, Jackie began to hear a faint hiss. A few more miles later, her tire sensor light came on. Pulling over, Jackie turned on her hazard lights to change her tire in almost total darkness. She propped her phone up with the flashlight on as she struggled to loosen the lug nuts. Tugging angrily, she switched sides of the tire iron, pushing and pulling until they budged. Retrieving the jack from her trunk, she forgot where her phone stood and stepped on it with a loud crunch.

"Ugh, pendeja," she growled at herself, lifting her boot and glaring at the shattered glass. A new phone wasn't in the budget. Under her breath, Jackie mumbled curse words until she got back on the road.

When she finally made it home, her lengthy shower did nothing to relax her; the tension in her body tightened. Jackie barely dried her hair, chucking the towel on the bathroom floor instead of the dirty clothes hamper. She lay in bed, tossing and turning, failing to fall asleep.

After half an hour of forcing her eyes shut, Jackie sat up, staring at her closet. She threw off the blankets and headed over, digging out a trunk buried under a mountain of out-of-season clothes. Jackie sat back on her knees, psyching herself up before unhooking the latch and lifting the lid. With that one action, the floodgates burst on all the memories she avoided, the chapter of her life she hid from but never truly let go of.

Jackie slipped her gi out, resting it in her lap. A sad smile crept up on her lips while her eyes welled up. Donning the dragon used to make her feel invincible, yet now it felt like it was piercing the guard she had built up since she left the dojo. Underneath lay her journal; she opened it to a blank page, where she'd pressed a special orchid. Jackie wept at the sight of it.

Wiping her eyes with her pajama sleeve, Jackie returned to her bed, set the book with the delicate pink blossom on her bedside table, and traded it for her phone from next to it. She searched for the Sekai Taikai and opened their social media page. Swiping through the photos, her heart clenched in her chest when she landed on the photo of the Iron Dragons.

"There you are, you arrogant bastard," Jackie grumbled hoarsely when she saw Sensei Wolf through the cracks in her broken screen, posing alongside the current year's squad. The butterflies flipped in her stomach, so she smacked the phone face down. Jackie couldn't come to terms with how she felt about him anymore.

First light hit her eyes, and Jackie staggered out of bed to the coffee maker, forgetting most of her restless dreams but knowing he appeared in them. The ticket and card lay on her table. She traced the silver lining around her name before plucking up the card and heading outside to her small backyard. She kept eyeing the phone number to contact.

"Who am I kidding?" Jackie shook her head, tossing the card onto the nearby bench.

"The sun is warm," Jackie inhaled, and exhaled, "the grass is green." The phrase her mom taught her to control her anger seemed foolish coming out of her mouth. An urge within her rose, and she started doing kata for the first time in years.

Jackie's every movement gradually intensified, shedding layers of buried emotions. Her motions quickened, becoming more forceful. Grunts became enraged screams. She kicked straight through the wooden barricade surrounding her porch with her bare foot. The release was so invigorating that she dropped an elbow through the remaining section.

Finally, with a breakthrough of clarity, Jackie made her decision, and damn the consequences. She brushed her messy hair out of her face, snatched up the card, and limped back inside.

>-.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·° 火°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.->

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕔! 𝕀 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤!

𝕊𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖!

ℝ𝕠𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤!

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pinkneonvibes · 3 months ago

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𝔸 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 {ꜰᴜᴇɢᴏ}

{Next}

𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕝𝕝, 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕔 𝕒 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 💘

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕂𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕂𝕚𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 ℍ𝕚𝕝𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝕊𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕒𝕤 𝕁𝕦𝕝𝕚𝕖 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕞𝕪 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕂𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕂𝕚𝕕 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖, 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕘, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕕 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕨. 😭

𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕀'𝕞 𝕖𝕩𝕔𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕊𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕚 𝕎𝕠𝕝𝕗 😁

𝕀𝕟 𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕖𝕜𝕒𝕚 𝕋𝕒𝕚𝕜𝕒𝕚 𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤.

𝔻𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖 𝕚𝕟 «𝕢𝕦𝕠𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤» 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕒 𝕗𝕖𝕨 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝔼𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕙.

𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕤𝕠 𝕀'𝕞 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜, 𝕒𝕤 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕤 𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖, 𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕚𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕖, 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕 🤭

𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕔 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 '𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤'.

𝔼𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪!!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴸᵉᵍᵃˡ ʲᵃʳᵍᵒⁿ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ⁻

ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵒʷⁿ ᶜᵒᵇʳᵃ ᴷᵃᶦ/ᴷᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ ᴷᶦᵈ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳˢ. ᴬˡˡ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗˢ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳᶦᵍᶦⁿᵃˡ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵒʳˢ/ʷʳᶦᵗᵉʳˢ/ᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉʳˢ. "ᶠᵘᵉᵍᵒ" ᶦˢ ᵃ ⁿᵒⁿ⁻ᵖʳᵒᶠᶦᵗ ᶠᵃⁿᶠᶦᶜᵗᶦᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᴵ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵗᵃᶦⁿᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵖᵘʳᵖᵒˢᵉˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ. "ᶠᵘᵉᵍᵒ" ʷᵃˢ ʷʳᶦᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃᵈᵐᶦʳᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵇʳᵃ ᴷᵃᶦ/ᴷᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ ᴷᶦᵈ ᶠʳᵃⁿᶜʰᶦˢᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶦˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶦⁿᶠʳᶦⁿᵍᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳᶦᵍᶦⁿᵃˡ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵒʳ'ˢ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗˢ. ᵀʰᶦˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃᶦⁿˢ ᵛᶦᵒˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍ ˡᵃⁿᵍᵘᵃᵍᵉ, ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗᶦᵛᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ. ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᵈᶦˢᶜʳᵉᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᶦˢ ᵃᵈᵛᶦˢᵉᵈ. ᴬˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᶦˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ'ˢ ᵒʳᶦᵍᶦⁿᵃˡ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳʸˡᶦⁿᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐʸ ᵒʷⁿ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳᶦᵍᶦⁿᵃˡ ʷᵒʳᵏ.

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pinkneonvibes · 4 years ago

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{𝕀𝕀𝕀} 𝔻𝕖 𝕆𝕞𝕟𝕚𝕓𝕦𝕤 𝔻𝕦𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕦𝕞 {𝔹𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘} - LUX BRUMALIS

Bucky sat perfectly still on the exam table as Bruce held his eyelids open, shining a flashlight to examine his red-tinged eyes. The bright lights of the medical bay aggravated his throbbing headache.

"You said the light came from her hands?" Bruce queried, releasing his grip on Bucky and tucking his glasses in the front pocket of his lab coat.

"That's so cool," Peter commented from across the room as he analyzed Evy's blood samples in the computer and monitored her condition.

"See how cool it is when it happens to you, kid," Bucky answered, blinking hard a few times as his eyes began watering. "So what the hell did she do to me?" He asked Bruce, slightly annoyedly, rubbing his eyes before directing a brief scowl at the next room where Evy lay unconscious.

Bruce explained, "You were exposed to considerable ultraviolet radiation at close range, resulting in a corneal flash burn."

"Think you can give me the plain English version right now?" Bucky asked.

Peter spun around in his chair and translated in layman's terms, "She gave your eyes a sunburn."

"A sunburn?" Bucky flatly asked the teen. "On my eyes?"

"I think I might know a little about how radiation works, Bucky," Bruce chuckled.

"It's all over your face, too," Peter added.

"What?" Bucky hopped off the exam table and headed to the mirror. Sure enough, the redness from sunburned skin spread across his face. "Ah, shit," he mumbled.

"Shouldn't take more than a day or two to clear up on you." Bruce patted him on the back, assuring him, "Consider yourself lucky. Exposure like that could blind an average person permanently."

Bruce returned to Peter and their research on Evy and the toxins removed from her bloodstream.

"Whatever you say, doc," Bucky shrugged. They said their goodnights, and Bucky headed to his room for the night.

"Sergeant Barnes," J.A.R.V.I.S. chimed in Bucky's bedroom early the following morning, "Mr. Stark requests your presence in the briefing room."

Groaning harshly, Bucky pulled himself off the floor by his still-made bed, grabbing his cell phone off the nightstand to check the time—7:03 AM.

"Better be important," he grumbled, not in the mood to join the group after the night he endured, hardly sleeping and suffering through the lingering irritation in his eyes. He would have rather stayed locked in his room until he healed up. He yanked a white t-shirt out of his closet on his way to the bathroom to make the slightest effort to be presentable.

Everyone trooped into the briefing room as Tony sat at the head of the table, rocking in his chair. The dark circles under his eyes indicated that he had pulled an all-nighter. With his head on the table, Peter was seated to his left, snoring softly. Bucky kept his head down, letting loose strands of hair fall in front of his face to hide the sunburn.

He took his usual spot between Natasha and Steve, greeting them with a gruff "Mornin'."

"Ouch," Sam snickered, sitting next to Peter across from Bucky, "The hell happened to your face, man?"

"Shut it, Wilson," Bucky snapped, pointing at him. Clint, straggling in last, was scratching his lower back while sipping from a whole pot of coffee.

"Can't you two save it 'til after breakfast?" Clint yawned, flopping down next to Sam. Sam flashed Bucky a cheeky grin, to which Bucky rolled his eyes and tried to sink himself into his chair as much as possible.

"Well, only one announcement to start. Unfortunately, Point Break won't be joining us for a while. Turns out he has to babysit his brother while his old man takes a long nap, so with that out of the way..." Tony slid two fingers across the tabletop. Images projected from the center of the table showed all angles of surveillance footage of a S.H.I.E.L.D. motorcade approaching a temporary holding center. Seconds later, without warning, the screen filled with a massive explosion.

If any Avengers were still half asleep, they were wide awake afterward, sitting straight to process what they witnessed. Then, the video replayed in slow motion, revealing a thin trail of smoke leading up to the blast.

Tony rose to his feet and began to pace around the room, somberly relaying, "That was the clean-up crew and our perps. Seventy-six total dead. No civilian casualties. But whoever did it destroyed every last bit of evidence we had."

"Do we know anything yet about who might've attacked?" Steve asked Bruce and Tony.

"I analyzed the bullet Clint brought back. The substance is a neurotoxin derived from an organic source. But, I couldn't find a matching substance in any database I accessed." Bruce admitted. "Thanks to Peter's help, we isolated and flushed the toxin from Evelyn's system."

"I didn't find much on Miss Evelyn, either." Tony changed the display to a bare profile on Evy. "Immediate family is deceased; no close living relatives. Around fourteen she was obviously scrubbed from every government system. So what's the deal here?" Tony inquired of Nat and Clint.

Clint spoke up. "We found her in a bad situation back then. The day she got her powers."

"Were they due to experiments?" Steve inquired.

"Evy's a mutant," Clint answered. "And since she was alone, I took her in. We kept her a secret to keep her safe."

"Whoa, so she was born like that?" Peter lifted his head and asked excitedly.

"Nice of you to join us, kid," Sam smirked, ruffling Peter's messy hair.

"Interesting," Tony expressed. "But I can't lie. I'm more shocked that you, of all people, decided to adopt a teenage girl."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Well, my wife and I were tryin' to have kids. But it just wasn't happening for us, so..."

"Wait, you're married?!" A baffled Tony asked Clint, stopping dead in his tracks. "And you kept that from us?"

"Was married," Clint corrected. "Laura's no longer with us."

"Oh." Tony spoke softly. "Sorry about your wife." Tony raised a finger and resumed pacing. "Continue."

"There's not much more to tell you," Clint shrugged. "Evy lived with us a couple of years. Laura said she and Evy fought about something while I was gone on an assignment, and Evy ran away. Last night was the first time Nat and I've seen her in about five years."

Tony shook his head. "J.A.R.V.I.S.! Queue any facial recognition footage, only the past five years."

The lighting in the room dimmed as grainy video stills stacked in various frames appeared, each date stamped nearly five years prior. Bucky skimmed over the enlarged images as they played simultaneously. The layout of the cells and labs was enough for him to recognize the location as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Black Ice facility, a front for undercover HYDRA activity that contained him as their Winter Soldier for a time.

He knew he'd never seen Evy there in the past, let alone anyone with powers like hers, before their unpleasant encounter the night before. The sheer lack of footage didn't surprise him since he had witnessed her abilities firsthand. They would make evading facial recognition tech a cinch.

In the final clips, men clad in S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms barged into her cell, where she was curled up in the corner, her exposed skin enveloped in darkness. Evy fought back as long as possible until they injected her with something and clamped a device around her neck. Her body limped as her shadow faded, and they dragged her through the long corridor, thrusting her into a narrow rectangular transport container.

The videos restarted and played again for a few seconds until Tony finally told J.A.R.V.I.S. to clear them from the queue, and the lights returned to normal.

"Well, I think that might settle it," Tony remarked.

Clint held his head in his hands as he realized how many horrific things that could've happened to Evy in all the time that had passed. Not looking up, he asked, "You think Evy's involved?"

"Wouldn't be the first time HYDRA's enemies took a shot at the new-and-improved S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tony answered. "Granted, we still don't know where she's been between the past few years and now, but we can't rule out that your girl has plenty of reason to want some payback."

"It's way too soon to jump to conclusions, Tony," Clint reasoned. "We don't even know what she was doing there in the first place."

"Stealing a little over a million bucks, for one," Tony countered. "I feel for the kid, Clint. I honestly do. But she sure as hell wasn't an innocent bystander." He tilted his head at Bucky. "I'm sure Barnes can attest to that. Look what she did to his face."

Damn it, Tony, Bucky thought, dreading being called out with everyone's attention on him at that moment.

Clint remained speechless as he shot Bucky an icy glare across the table. Everyone else took it as their cue to stay out of it.

"What do you want me to say, man?" Bucky met Clint's cold gaze. "She seemed ready to shoot me in the face if it wasn't for the palm scanner on my rifle."

"Told ya you'd love that upgrade." Tony couldn't help but interrupt to give himself some praise.

"Uh huh," Bucky paused briefly, choosing his following words carefully. "Listen, Clint. I understand this is personal for you, but it'd be foolish to rule it out completely."

Clint couldn't stifle his scoff at the statement. "Let me stop you right there, Barnes. You'll need to give me some proof before I go along with this bullshit theory."

Bucky took a deep breath to compose himself instead of blowing up on Clint for shooting down his attempt at being sensitive to the situation. "Whoever we're dealing with, they seem to tie up their ends damn near immediately. Yet they didn't come after us. Why? Maybe she's important to them, maybe she isn't, but if we cut her loose and tail her once she comes to, we'll find out one way or another."

"Whoa, whoa," Clint held his hands up. "I'm not okay with using Evy as bait. Last night was a close call as it is."

"It is what it is. Evy made her bed, and you should accept that she might not be the kid you remember."

"Funny we had to bypass that kind of caution with you," Clint fired back. "And we have proof of all the horrible shit you've done."

"Alright guys, that's enough." Steve and Sam, sitting next to each of them, tried defusing the situation, but it was in vain.

Bucky slammed his palm down on the table. "Clint, you know damn well with that many casualties, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s gonna demand to interrogate her. And it won't be friendly. So you wanna pull your head outta your ass and figure out somethin' better, be my guest."

"They don't know she's here yet, Clint." Tony interjected. "But, after what we just saw, I don't know how much longer we should keep her a secret."

"Whatever, man." Clint stood abruptly. "You're both so full of shit," he huffed at Bucky and Tony as he stormed out. Nat called out after him, but he was already gone. Without a word, she shook her head and followed him out.

A blue scan hummed through the dimly lit medical bay, periodically passing over Evy's body. Monitors on either side of the bed updated her with her vital readings. Evy's eyelids gradually fluttered open with clouded vision. Finally, the beam of light moving over her eyes startled her fully awake.

Sitting upright, she wasted no time ripping the IV from her arm, forcing herself off the bed and onto her feet. However, her legs lacked the strength to hold her body weight and gave out underneath her. Incapable of catching herself, she landed flat on her face, and the impact of the fall winded her. Searing pains tore throughout her body at every motion.

Drawing shallow breaths, Evy mustered what little energy she could, dragging herself on her forearms to the nearest corner of the room. She leaned back against the wall, and her chest heaved and tightened. Constriction traveled up to her throat with each breath. Then, hoping to recover from her panic, she squeezed her eyes shut, concealing herself in darkness.

Unaware of how much time had passed, she detected a change in lighting through her eyelids. Once she calmed down, she dropped the veil over her skin, opened her eyes, and adjusted to the early morning light. She held onto the wall to stand, taking the opportunity to examine her surroundings.

The technology in this room alone clued her in that she wasn't in a hospital. Peering out the window, Evy watched the Manhattan skyline brightening at the break of dawn. Her brows knit in confusion as she attempted to retrace her steps to figure out where she was.

"Clint?" she whispered to herself. She vaguely remembered hearing his voice. She shook her head, not wanting to entertain any positive sentiments about him. Evy swore never to trust anyone or anything associated with S.H.I.E.L.D. ever again.

"Oh, shit," her eyes widened at recognizing the logo on the wall behind her reflecting in the glass.

The Avengers Tower.

Gasping, she reached for her shoulder at the recollection of being shot, hand settling on a row of stitches. Then, stretching the elastic of her black sweatpants, she peeked under the bandage at another set of stitches.

"How long was I out?" she wondered aloud.

"Four days, Miss Silva," J.A.R.V.I.S. responded.

Startled by the unexpected noise, she flinched, grimacing at the jolt of pain from her sudden movement.

"Um, thank you?" Evy replied, dumbfounded that she acknowledged the polite disembodied voice. She stood there for an instant, wrestling with her current emotions.

Evy intended to avoid sticking around to figure out what S.H.I.E.L.D.'s poster children wanted with her. Muscling through the pain in her steps, she proceeded to the door.

Unlocked.

Well, that was easy, she thought.

Not dwelling on it further, she rummaged through various cabinets and drawers for anything worthwhile and located some clothes she assumed were laid out for her. Hastily exiting the room, she zeroed in on a table full of snacks in the lounge. Her stomach chose that instant to growl furiously.

"No time for that," she scolded, stopping herself from heading that way. Her stomach protested, and she gave in, hurrying over to the table and filling the pockets of her hoodie.

The halls on the way to the elevator were eerily silent except for the echo of her brisk footsteps—there was no one else in sight.

Rushing out the first-floor doors, she pulled on her hood, keeping her head down and blacking herself out. She moved quickly through the aching into the morning light.

"Sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. announced, "Miss Silva has left the building. I've alerted Agents Barton and Romanoff."

Tony glanced at the small display, the red dot on Evy's position moving slowly along the map. "Great, I'll give 'em a head start before I call Fury. Keep me posted."

He continued tinkering with his latest project underneath the magnifying lens for a few minutes before placing the call.

As the line rang, J.A.R.V.I.S. had another announcement. "Sir, there appear to be several breach attempts on the tower's mainframe."

"What?" Tony questioned in confusion. He pushed his goggles up in his hair, analyzing the live feed of a dozen drones drilling into the tower.

"What is it now Tony?"

"Nick, I'm gonna have to call you back," Tony hung up immediately and tapped into the tower's intercom. "Gang, we have a situation."

He gingerly placed his project on the table before running out of the lab and shouting, "J.A.R.V.I.S., run a trace!"

"Of course, sir."

Arriving at her destination in the Bronx, Evy scaled over the rubble of an abandoned subway station. Most of the old station lay in ruins, demolished or reclaimed by nature—the perfect hiding spot for someone who can see in the dark.

Dropping her disguise, she climbed down to the only exposed entrance. Her pupils grew, eclipsing her eyes to obsidian as she moved further into the dark, stopping at a pile of large stones and broken concrete she'd made to house her backpack. If her one-woman heist had gone according to plan, she would've been back to retrieve it five nights earlier. It had been smooth sailing until the Avengers showed up.

"Perfect," she huffed, scrutinizing the tattered remains she had unearthed. Since Evy initially hid her bag, rats and other critters chewed holes through it. They even ate half of her last ten-dollar bill.

"I'm so fucked," she whined softly, running a hand through her hair. The severity of being broke, injured, and back on the radar began to sink in. Angrily, she stuffed her things into the only still intact compartment of the backpack.

Clattering pebbles echoed near the entrance. Tiptoeing further into the darkness, Evy shifted her skin to blend into the shadows. Positioning herself flush against the wall, she silently observed the source of the sound.

Five men crept in, wearing street clothes. Batons extended from their hands, sparks crackling from the forked ends. Hurriedly, she slipped the backpack on and clipped the straps across her chest. Then, rolling up her sleeves to expose as much of her skin as possible, she took a deep breath before sprinting to the group's center and conjuring a flash.

Flinging the stunned man closest to her headfirst into a pillar, she snatched his weapon to even the odds. She shocked the next guy with it before splitting it over his head. She dodged the remaining three, swinging mindlessly but wasn't fast enough, yelping as one of their batons caught her and clamped into her abdomen, pumping electricity throughout her body.

Dropping to her knees, dazed, she was able to save herself, reaching another fallen baton and barely managing to get back on her feet. She shocked the last three unconscious.

She sensed the warmth of the blood escaping her torn stitches and hobbled out of the tunnel. Just keep moving, she repeated in her head.

Suddenly, the hum of hovering objects surrounded her, and eight drones descended on her. She stumbled quickly, ducking her head and zigzagging to avoid laser strikes pelting the ground around her. One grazed her ankle, so she dove. Tumbling down the platform, she landed facedown on the exposed tracks.

Flaming scrap rained around her as the machines came crashing down. Evy struggled to drag herself onto her hands and knees. Clint rushed over to her, helping Evy to her feet and holding her arms to steady her.

"C'mon kid, let's get you outta here."

She froze when they made eye contact, overloaded by the wave of emotions hitting her like a semi-truck, seeing him in the flesh after all those years. Coming to her senses, she emanated an orange glow from her hands and forearms, warning him to let go.

"I'm sorry," he tightened his grip on her, allowing Natasha the few seconds she needed to sneak up from behind, clamping a power inhibitor on Evy's neck.

Recognizing the sensation, Evy tried swinging at Natasha, but she blocked and restrained Evy against the concrete wall.

"Calm down. We're trying to help you, but we're not taking any chances." As Evy fidgeted, Natasha detached the cuffs from her belt and displayed them to her. "Are you going to make me use these?"

"Spare me your bullshit," Evy hissed. Natasha stood her ground and fastened the cuffs on Evy's wrists. She wasn't in any condition to put up a real fight, more so without her abilities, but Natasha made good on the threat.

"Suit yourself."

Another group of drones hovered in, firing on them.

"We don't have time for this!" Clint shouted, letting bomb arrows fly at the drones heading their way. "Are you walking, or are we dragging you?"

"Mierda," Evy muttered under her breath. She leaned toward cooperation solely based on choosing the lousy situation over the worse one. They patched her up once before, and they'd assumably do it again. It was a much better deal than getting blown to hell while bleeding out. "This doesn't mean I trust you." She responded hoarsely, straightening up as best she could with clenched fists.

"Smart girl," Nat commented, grabbing her by the elbow.

Evy kept her eyes forward, limping as the trio rushed to the Quinjet for their getaway.

▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀

𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕨, 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕤𝕠 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕! 𝕀'𝕞 𝕒𝕝𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖 𝕀'𝕞 𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕞𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕥 𝕠𝕟 𝕚𝕥 𝕤𝕠 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘!!

𝕄𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕕, 𝕚𝕗 𝕀 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣𝕤.

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 🖤💙

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