#Harima Takami Junto | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tabbyhoney · 6 days

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Gorgeous

Inspired by the Fanfiction 'Fear of you' from @sleepwalkersqueen

Note: Apparently my brain didn't like that much of an open ending and I also couldn't wait to let my friend proofread it:). But this most likely will be the last chapter and once I have a seperate AO3 account I will post it there (I'll post it once it is on there and when I figured AO3 out;)). Btw. yes, I did write sappy poems.

Last

Warnings: Torture, implied intend of r*pe, implied r*pe, swearing, Junto

Chapter 06

Perhaps she is the most beautiful girl you met,

A rare porcelain curse

Raying light in the sunset.

A Beauty beyond the universe.

Shining eyes beyond the horizion,

Dipping down into the deepest sky and ocean,

Touching the soul, but touching none,

Something so sweet and rare for lovin, not asking fo devotion.

Cascading blonde hair shimmering rosegold,

Rich colour for a luxurious one.

Warm hands with a soft touch made to hold.

Glistening smooth skin.

A warmth you only knew from a better time,

But ten times more loving.

Because as you learned over time,

It was never her beauty that encaptured the first time,

It was the strong eyes,

Held together by the nose that was so far up,

Arrogant, snarky, true and unbelievable wise.

Her entire attitude held together by a flawless setup.

A setup that barely held lies in her soul.

Instead it was the fuel,

Fire burning up her truthfull goal.

Recovery for a fool.

Three men were currently inside a back room in the pink cavern. A large, bulky one held a cigarette between his teeth while he leaned against the door, blocking the only entrance. A smug grin was plastered across his face.

The other man was pacing around the room, one eye always on the two figures sitting on the sofa. A scene that could freeze the blood of the toughest soldiers or would put even Harima into a sweat. Being prey to hungry predators.

Wine glasses clinking against each other, one shaking that was held by the slender hand with red-colored nails of a woman who wished for nothing more than to escape this room. Eyes flicked at each man at any given second, hoping to find any kind of loophole to escape this tension-filled room. She feared even her smooth talking would not get her out of here.

The taste of the most expensive wine felt wonderful on the taste buds. The rich flavor and the sweet note in the aftertaste left a warm feeling of fulfillment. In any other situation, she would have sighed, leaning back against anything and relaxing in this feeling. Listening to the quiet of the night while the alcohol slowly consumed her mind, easing up her muscles and stress. Watching the cats and birds with a smile. A blissful heaven on earth as she dreamed about a different life.

Only this time, with each sip she was forced to take, felt like another second closer to hell.

The warm hand resting against her waist burned into her skin. It felt like a hot iron tightly pressed into it that could even make the strongest person howl in pain; she stayed quiet. A sensation that only grew with the pain when she got pulled closer to the side of the man, she tried her best to forget his name. Not wanting to indulge in his promise, he made her.

“Now tell me, little lady,” he purred against her face. “Takami liked you, didn't he? Or at least he pretended to.”. His voice sounded like a mockery, being so full of himself that he was certain Shinyo only pretended, but they never actually had any conversations like that.

She didn't know if he liked her the way she loved him, with all her flaws overflowing with unearned unconditional love.

She pressed her lips together tightly; the hot air and the smell of blood in his breath made her sick. Her stomach churned, and she had to hold everything together to not vomit on him. Even if this could give her a satisfied feeling of defying that man, it reminded her too much of memories she hid in the deepest depths of her mind. Even if those memories haunt her with every decision.

The man chuckled at her reaction, having noticed every muscle that tensed up in her body and how her face contorted in pain he hadn't even inflicted on her yet. Her heartbeat was louder than the crashing waves of a storm. He had her exactly where he needed her to be, in terrifying fear with phantom pains.

Talons grew from his fingertips, wandering down her side. The black dress along her skin was cut open by the second. His hands dug deep into the flesh of her hips, right at the side where the fat of her ass started. She held back a scream with a sharp gasp. The sudden stinging pain made her realize how helpless she is.

“Perhaps a little snack would ease your mood?” He asked with his head buried in the crook of her neck. Nibbling at the thin skin with his sharp teeth, just enough so no blood escaped the bruised flesh. But enough to make her body shudder.

Amaya stayed as quiet as a mouse. The freshly inflicted wound soaked her torn dress full of blood; it was cold. With a snap of his finger, one of the men went outside to get some food. Momentarily getting her out of this trance just to fall right into the radio silence again. Her ears and eyes are deaf to everything surrounding her, like a toy with no will or mind.

She didn’t notice when he got back. The sharp talons traced lazy patterns into her skin; even that didn't put her back into reality despite the burning of her flesh. Only the smell of something with meat caught her full attention; to her growing horror, it was definitely chicken—a bird at the very least.

“Look at that; he brought some chicken nuggets,” the man grinned. Taking the plate, he broke his hot touch on her body, leaving a cold burn mark. “Take one,” he said, practically shoving the plate into her face. A wide grin that belonged to the devil spread across his lips.

For the first time since she had to endure this endless torture, she was not able to hold back her wretching. Holding her hands against her mouth out of instinct, she covered her nose to block out the sickening smell of the chicken. This was already too much to handle, and this was not even the worst they could do.

All she could see in that moment was the dead bird on her desk and how it tasted when her instincts overwhelmed her tiny, stupid bird brain. The crunching sound of breaking bones is mixed with the bloody taste of fresh, untouched meat. The classmate who saw her—or was it even a classmate? She couldn't remember.

“Come on, you look half-starved. Some meat will do you good,” the man cooed. “Or perhaps you'd like something else? Beef? Snake?”

Amaya would prefer to eat nothing. Her skin crawled with just the mere memory of meat between her teeth. How the light, chewy texture melts in her mouth with each bite. A little bit chewy in some parts, it felt like polishing your teeth with something rubbery. The taste filled all your senses with a warm, pleasant feeling that made you dig right into it again. Stupid instincts.

With a forced smile that made her face feel ticklish, she said between her teeth, "N-no, thank you." As soon as she tried to decline the offer of food, his hand snapped forward to her throat. Squeezing it tightly.

Gasping for air, her hand snapped forward to his wrist, trying to pull it away from her but having no success. Not even her own talons seem to bother the man.

“You eat it.”

Slowly, he pulled away from the terrified woman. Her heartbeat was racing like an old machine running over time. Shaking like a leaf, she took a nugget off the plate. With a quick glance at the man, she realized there was no backing down. Biting down on the tasteful little piece was the first problem. Focusing on all the weird sensations in her mouth was the second. The last and worst part was continuing her chewing and having to swallow it.

Even with her worst hangover or being incredibly sick, Amaya has never felt such an urge to cut open her stomach. Her throat burned when she tried to hold back her wretching. Tears were prickling down the side of her face, the mascara running along with it.

But even with her best efforts, she was not able to hold back the contents of her stomach.

Junt- the man, laughed at the pitiful figure. Watching her vomit at the side of the table and listening to her cry. Now it was clear he knew about her apprehension towards meat; this was the beginning of her torture. If he had not known this fact, it must have been the luckiest guess of his day. How could he know something as intimate as that was beyond her understanding? Only two people knew. One would take it to their grave, and the other wouldn't care enough to tell him that.

Junto grabbed her hair, pulling her up with such force that she fell against the sofa. With his thumb, he wiped the remains off of her lips, disgusting. Eyes glowing with satisfaction, he sat between her legs. His sharp red eyes bore into the depths of her brain, making out each imperfection on her face. Absent-mindedly, he stated, “On closer inspection, you really don't look as perfect as everyone claims.”.

Her eye twitched.

“Are you willing to talk now?” He asked while placing one hand under her chin to make her look into his eyes. “Or perhaps we should just start with the fun part.”

With one swift motion, he tore open her dress, revealing her underwear. The sound ripped through the room, with the other two men glancing at the display with a smirk on their lips. “The girl also started to remember afterwards. I mean, not that she knew much anyway, but for me and my men, it was a good stress relief.”.

“And a good thing is you aren't pregnant, right? At least your doctor had some interesting things to say about you. Nature can be cruel, right?”

Exposed, vulnerable, and in absolute misery would be the best way to describe the emotions of Amaya. The dreadful torture of him taking his time was only the cherry on top.

Oh, Amaya could curse every single choice she ever made right now. She could curse out the day she started at university and the day she started working for Tartarus. Curse the day Endeavour gave her the last key to every floor in prison. Curse the day her parents were lucky enough to have her. Curse the man who would be responsible for this.

Even with the fear and anger rising in her chest, she still wasn't able to shake this gorgeous face off her mind. She was praying that she would wake up next to this charming asshole of a man and had no worries except for the next week, when she would be at work again. At this point, she would even quit Tartarus and work in a clinic or be self-employed. Being woken up by an energetic little fluff ball instead of enduring this. Or dealing with criminals in general.

Everything in this world would be better than this.

Even death would be less cruel.

dying for a man who you fell in love with in disturbing circumstances...

With the last drop of spite she found in her trembling body, Amaya did what she was able to do.

Curse the man who was responsible.

“Fuck you! You can do whatever you want, you sick bastard, but I will not give you the satisfaction of winning a game I never wanted to play,” Amaya snarled right into his face. Eyes burning with fire, she was determined to never wipe out. Not for him, not for anyone. Even if it meant experiencing one of the worst disgraces known to humans, even if she would die from it for him,.

The last person to always have trust in him.

Pouring oil into an already-stirring fire was promised to cause an explosion, but parents mostly never told their children to never take out an oil fire with water. Juntos's talons dove deep into the pulse on her neck, blood trickling down where the talons bore into her skin. Feeling her vision get blurry and her head start to feel lightheaded, Amaya did what she was able to do best.

Never back down too easily.

Activating her quirk made her body temperature rise instantly, and the wounds started to close themselves. At the cost of exhaustion and a fever, she was filled with determination to not die. After all, she still had so much work to do. Even if it would take all her energy to survive, for one last hello, she would endure. For one last hug, she would survive.

The blow she expected to feel never came. She was ready to feel the ripped clothes leaving her body completely, becoming more vulnerable than she already was, but it never came. Junto didn't do the thing he hinted at from the beginning.

Instead, it was a skilled hand twisting her arm in an unnatural position; it did not crack just yet, but the pain was burning. The skin stretched and had already turned red; the snap was short and less painful than expected.

A crack in the ear deafens the sound traveling through hollow parts of her body. The grinding of the broken bone inside was an agonizing pain that got more uncomfortable with the thought of what was happening inside. Her quirk started mending the bones back together, at least as best as her quirk allowed it.

Her breath got caught in her throat, and she suppressed the urge to scream. The small amount of energy she had left was daring to leave her completely. How pathetic to already be at the limit, she thought.

“It's no fun if you are already expecting that." Junto chimed, pushing the table with a quick kick into the next wall. The crash of splintering wood was loud, along with the glass bursting into millions of shiny pieces.

Junto grabbed her by the hair, throwing her with no effort to the ground. She shrieked and covered her head with her arms, hoping it would shield her from the hard floor, but it didn't.

“Now let me tell you one thing, Songbird," he purred, rubbing his shoe into her cheek. “I just want a nice little present for Takami, perhaps your head or maybe your eyes.”

If his sickening sweet voice was a reference to something he could not possibly know was unknown and, quite frankly, not her concern at the moment, instead, she had to focus on the stinging in her cheek. The warm liquid that traveled down her forehead when she failed to protect her head. Her body burned like an open fire as she tried everything in her power to keep the damage to a minimum. Quirk started to let the downside show by making her feverish.

Tears welled in her eyes, and a broken sob escaped her throat. She wished for nothing more than to go home, snuggle up in her futon, and never get up again from the cozy warmth. And just maybe not be alone in doing so, but being alone would be fine too.

“No need to cry; I'll make sure you'll stay alive." Junto's boot left her cheek, and he crouched down to her on one knee. His talons grazed along her bruised cheek. “I still need you alive, much like his chick.”

Amaya froze up for a moment. Not because the stinging got worse by the cuts and with the air contact, it started to burn like the pits of hell, but because he had Shinyo’s kid. Somehow.

When Junto stepped away, she was ready to jump up and try escaping the stuffy room. She didn't care if they might catch her; she just needed to escape. Before she was even able to balance her weight on her shaky legs, the two other men pinned her to the ground. Their entire body weight was pressing against her arms, the broken one pumping with excruciating pain.

Struggling in their grip, she continued trying to stand up, but they were much stronger even if she were to use her mutant powers.

“Why do you even care? He probably gives no shit about me!” Amaya spat, glaring up at the man. After all, it was him who said he didn't care.

Junto laughed; it was cold and honest.

“Silly woman”

—----------------------------------

Shinyo didn't know why he even bothered trying to sleep while his babyfeathers were somewhere out there, alone and malnourished in the cold. The anxiety gnawed at his insides, and the paranoia made him choke on his own breath. If his poor kid's condition would even make him stay alive long enough, that was questionable. Deep inside, he hoped he was at least somewhat safe with that damn Spider.

No matter how much he searched and searched, his sweet little chick was nowhere to be found. He felt as helpless as a bird in a cage with cut-off wings. A half-dead one, even.

At this rate, he might as well die. There was no one he could ask for help from anymore. No one would be stupid enough to challenge the government for some malnourished kid. Especially his kid.

His limping steps led him back to the room where Wolf was. He wouldn't dare admit it, but he felt the need to know his opinion.

“I thought we agreed you would sleep,” Wolf said without turning around.

Shinyo smirked, his eyes empty. “I don't need beauty sleep; I am already perfect.”

“You'd be surprised when you find out there are prettier people outside.”

Shinyo slumped down on the floor, making an agreeable sound. Deep down, he knew the reason why Tsuki was not the image he saw—there was someone even better than the woman he married so quickly.

Wolf turned around, not expecting Shinyo to agree with him. He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And who is that?” Wolf asked, thinking he might know the answer.

His eyes darted up, gleaming with danger. Shinyo didn't understand why Wolf would even care, considering he would put her in danger if he even dared say her name. He might as well lie to him or just punch him to the ground.

“I met a pretty woman at my interrogation before they started using the more extreme methods.”

“Oh? Does the dog have a crush?” he mocked.

“She smelled like you.”

Shinyo’s eyes widened; it couldn't be Tsuki, and he has not touched any woman ever since. Not like that or ever since leaving Tsukis Place. He prayed to any god that would hopefully hear him that Wolf would not say her name, which he feared might be the one. The image that still haunts him in the most precious way.

He wasn't even able to deny her presence in his head anymore; she had too many similarities to Tsuki but was so much better than he remembered her.

“I believe her name was Howashi Am-”

“Stop!” Shinyo growled, “I don't want to hear her name.”

Wolf stayed calm and silent. He could practically feel Shinyo’s body tensing up at the mention of her name. Even if Shinyo snapped at him, he was certain of one thing, something his nose never lied about. Though it was a deranged scent, it was clear he cared very deeply about her. That or she was the reason he was so fearful of being touched.

“She seemed genuine; maybe she can help.”. He scratched that thought quickly out of his mind. Back then, she didn't seem like the type to use physical harm on people; she had a sharp mind for that.

Wolf was, of course, correct. Was there someone better to ask than a pretty woman who worked for the country and had the charm of a prince who made every princess in the land fall in love with him? She could simply sleep herself to the information he needed. Hell, she could probably let Harima eat out of her hands if she played her cards right.

But that made his stomach sick.

"No,” Shinyo said. He did not want her in danger. “I can't let her go through this." Unlike his son, he was able to push her to safety because she still had a life worth living. But most importantly, he still felt like he owned Keigo in a way he never realized he could own something, much like he once thought Tsuki belonged to him. Amaya did not belong to him. "Besides, I have no way of fucking knowing where she is." And as long as she was as safe as now, it would be okay. It was okay to never see her again, despite the ache he felt in his empty chest.

He just needed to find Keigo, maybe leave her a message, and flee the country. It was as simple as that. A safe life for his kid and himself.

“I know where she works.”

Shinyo could swear he felt his blood freeze when Wolf said that. What does he know? Clearly, knowing she is a therapist in Tartarus is not as helpful as it sounds; they can't simply call the fucking prison and ask for her.

“We could call them. If we were lucky, she is even working right now.”

He felt his eyes twitch. He would not have thought Wolf of all people to be this stupid. Especially with the long waiting time for her to come here, if she would even want to see him, "Yeah, sure,” he said sarcastically. “Let's call the fucking prison I escaped and ask them about the whereabouts of my therapist. Great idea, dumbass.”

“What are you talking about?” Wolf asked, surprised by the reaction. He would have thought Takami would do anything to find the pup, even calling someone like her. “She works in the pink cavern,” he added to make his point clear. He didn't know she was his therapist.

Ah shit. Of course, she mentioned something like that.

Shinyo scratched his neck; he was not sure what he should do about it. On one hand, he might find his precious little Keigo, and on the other, he might endanger one of the last people he might fight for or at the very least protect with his life.

But as he thought about what would be best to do, Wolf already dialed the number of the bar. Not granting him another minute to ponder about the possibilities.

—-------------------------------------

Cleaning the bar was one of the top priorities before opening. Every spot needed to be clean so that men and women could make a new mess again. It is truly astonishing how many liquids are spilled in a place that is meant for pure entertainment and not for pleasure, granting every wish from the lips. This isn't a strip club, after all.

Ever since this white-suit guy disappeared with Amaya, the barkeeper has had a bad feeling. Because it was someone straight from Harima, he could not help her, and he wanted to. She was not only arguably the best performer but also someone who was just so nicely human in every way.

He still remembered the news about the motel from not many days ago, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was Harimas' men. Especially those men.

The phone ringing made him jump slightly, having been caught up in his thoughts. He clamped the phone between his head and shoulders so he could still continue cleaning the glasses.

“Pink Cavern, you are speaking with Kim Jun; what can I help with?”

“Hello, is someone with the name Howashi Amaya working?”

“Uhm… Who is this?”

“If she does tell her, Fang Li asked for her.”

“Please stay on the phone; I'll go get her." Jun placed the phone down on the counter. He hurried towards the room where he had seen them disappear earlier. With force, he knocked on the door.

“Excuse me!” He yelled, “Miss Harima is on the phone for Amaya.”

Never in his life has Jun seen a door open so fast. In front of him was the rude man in the white suit; he didn't care to remember his name. He glared up at Jun with a honey-tinted smile.

“We are busy,” Junto said sternly.

“You really want to anger Harima's wife?” Jun asked, glaring just as much down at him. He knew no one dared mess with the Lady of the Big Boss.

Jun could practically see the blood boiling in Junto. The hesitation was evident in him, but deep down, he knew he couldn't keep her hostage if the lady boss wanted something from her. The last guy who did that was never seen again.

"Fine,” he said, opening the door and gesturing to the man to let her go.

Amaya got up as quickly as possible, almost falling over from her lack of balance and her hurried action.

Her face was red and deeply bruised on her right side. Her nose and clothes were bloody, though most of her wounds looked relatively healed. But her body burned from the heat; he could feel that when she walked beside him. He would guess she definitely has a terrible fever.

They walked in silence towards the bar. Amaya is trying her best to hold the torn dress back together. Without wasting a second, Amaya took the phone, and Jun gave her a chair to sit in, just in case the adrenaline would make her too weak to stand.

“Minori! I am so glad you called. Listen, I am really sorry about what happened.” She spurted out like a pistol when she felt like she finally got the chance to explain to Minori her situation.

“What?” The voice of a man caught her off guard. If her suspicion was correct, this was not Minori but Fang Li. The Wolf-guy Endeavour caught him after cutting Shinyo off from more time.

She glanced over to the bartender, fully aware of what he had done for her. Help her escape with a quick lie.

“W-why did you call?” Her voice felt raw and had this hoarse sound from crying.

“Are you able to find out where Takami's kid is?”

Her heart dropped.

“Where should we meet?” She needed to get out of this place as quickly as possible.

Wolf stayed silent on the other side. He was surprised she would want to meet up with them; it felt suspicious. Though he could hear the pain in her voice with every word, he could hear the suffering through her frantic breathing on the phone. He had no choice but to do what Takami often lacked: trust.

“Seriously, we should probably discuss this eye-to-eye… please.”

He looked over at Shinyo, whom he held down because he wanted to take the phone away. Gladly, it was easy since he was still injured and, on top of that, exhausted. It was more like keeping a child at arms length, except the child wouldn't scratch and bite like a cat.

“All right,” he said. He didn't know what was happening, but something was off. He gave her a vague location and hoped he could actually trust her.

Amaya was able to escape into the cold, alone and unfollowed by the red eyes. Walking mostly aimlessly around the streets made her realize how many injuries she actually endured for Shinyo. Her skin was burning like Endeavour’s outbursts, and at the same time, she felt like freezing to death. Every step reminded her that she couldn't heal the broken bone in her leg due to her exhaustion. The coat on Jun kept her relatively warm despite her changing temperature.

But she had to carry on and tell Shinyo what likely happened to little Takami. Tell him everything she knew.

Living through a dream, day to day again,

Seeing life passing by like an endless loop of time,

Hoping one day I regain

Every second you stole from me, that sticks to me like grime.

You don't believe in destiny, and gorgeous

Neither do I.

But still and I know it is forever this will be for us forever.

Red and gold and a blue sky,

Smelling like a rainy storm that barely just passed.

Wishing upon luck to not make us cry,

Always knowing this fairytale is made to be a nightmare.