#oooo fighter carpenter sisters ?

[dreamersbcll]

Saying that I want more, this is what I live for.

(sequel to this au)

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“You sure about this one?”

God. Those five words pissed her off. Sam knew her anxious babbling bothered Tara, but her big sister couldn’t help it anyway.

Tara flexed her neck, bouncing up and down on her toes. She felt her muscles ripple through her body and flexed her fingers, feeling the tape pad her knuckles like it should. As she hopped up and down, she could feel her braided hair slap against her neck, grinning widely. Most people would put their hair up in a tight bun or shave it off, but Tara didn’t roll like that. She liked her hair braided tightly, always within hand’s grasp.

It’s not like she would let them get close enough to grab, anyway. And if they did, she didn’t mind the pain. She would always inflict more damage once she got them to let go.

She smiled to herself, feeling the stitches above her eyebrow pull, the pain shooting through her skull and to her heart. It didn’t matter. It only fueled her more. She was sloppy last night. But today was a new day- a new chance to inflict pain.

Lord knows they deserved it.

Turning to Sam, she saw her big sister looking at her nervously, her mouth set in a permanent frown. Tara rolled her eyes, biting her tongue.

In all fairness, her big sister had a fair reason to be strung out on nerves. This was a new arena for the two. Sure, it still was a midnight brawl, but this wasn’t an all-girls club. It was a criminal ring.

Former felons, violent and nonviolent alike, join and fight. For most, it was just a stress reliever, a pause from the strenuous struggle of life. But for some, it was life or death, a battle of brawn or butchery.

Tara knew that. She did her research extensively. It turns out felons paid more than upper-class yuppies chasing real-world adrenaline. She had no idea why that was, but it didn’t matter. She put her name in the ring and got prepared.

Sam wasn’t a fan at all. Though she had a few bodies under her belt and was slick with a knife, Sam just couldn’t get behind this. She was barely on board El Vampiro as it was- she would be much happier if she could fight more- but she soon warmed up to it once the cash flowed in. She had to grudgingly admit: her little sister could put on a show- and she could kick some ass.

But Tara wore down her big sister. It took a bit of convincing- but once Tara promised that Sam could enter the weapons brawl once- it was a golden idea.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew her big sister needed an outlet. The rapist they killed a month ago wouldn’t tide Sam’s urge. That’s why she had to ensure they got into this new ring.

And tonight was the first official night. Tara’s first official night. Last night was just a trial run, and she knew what she needed to tighten up. There was less dancing around, more mind games, and more precise punches. Fighting men was more manageable, in a way. They always let their pride take over the wheel.

Tara knew how to pick someone apart, letting them fall at her feet, disoriented and bloody. She was good at fighting- something she learned from Sam.

Her big sister took another deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut tight. “I know you don’t want to hear me ask.”

Rolling her eyes, Tara returned to the mirror, adjusting her makeup. “So don’t.”

Sam clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Just, are you sure? Like really?” she asked casually, quiet panic in her tone.

Taking a deep breath, Tara faced her sister and put her taped hands onto Sam’s shoulders. She looked deep into her big sister's eyes, the two melding into each other.

“Sammy, you gotta trust me,” she whispered, touching Sam’s cheek.

Her big sister leaned into her touch, sighing. “I just worry that you’ll lose badly. I can’t have that.”

She pulled her big sister in, hugging her tight.

“I won’t. I’ve got us. Let’s do what we’re best at, yeah?”

“Carpenter Style?”

“You know it.”

——

She had to prevent her eyes from rolling when she laid eyes on her opponent. He called himself The Virgin, and Tara understood immediately at first glance.

Another skinny white boy with dark curly hair. More twinks? God.

“What kind of name is The Virgin?” she scoffed, sizing him up.

The boy across from her sneered, his dark eyes twinkling. “Something you know a lot about.”

Before she could retaliate by shoving her fingernails through his larynx, Sam held her back, tutting quietly. As much as Tara hated to admit it, Sam was right. She couldn’t get disqualified before the bell went off; five thousand dollars was on the line.

Instead, she stared down the boy, mouthing You’re Mine. He swallowed hard but didn’t turn away.

The Croupier returned to the competitors, the cash in his hands shining in the moonlight. “You ready, Vampiro?”

Tara snorted. What a stupid fucking question.

“Let’s roll, pretty boy,” she said, stretching her muscles in preparation.

The Croupier looked at both opponents. “You both know what league you signed into tonight, yes?”

Both kids nodded. Yes.

“Just to be clear, it goes to the last breath. Do you both understand these terms and accept the risks?”

Tara couldn’t help but grin, feeling the blade Sam pressed into her hip pierce her skin. She was born ready.

Satisfied with their silent answers, the Croupier stepped back. “Alright. Let's do this.”

Sam squeezed her shoulders tightly before whispering in Tara’s ear. “Go for the eye. Te Amo, mi vida.”

Nodding sharply, Tara accepted the kiss Sam pressed into her braids. “Yes, Sammy. Te Amo,” she whispered back.

As her big sister pulled back and walked behind the ring, The Virgin sneered, his curly head bobbing with the motion. “Oh, you sweet, dumb thing. Should’ve stayed out of the big-kid fight,” he sang, bouncing on his heels.

She cocked her head. “Then who would do this?” she asked innocently before landing an uppercut across his sweet, dumb face.

Once she felt his nose break under his knuckles, she knew she had this.

——

It took about two minutes for Tara to dismantle the boy.

Once she carved enough slashes across his throat, she straddled him, holding the blade to his neck. She grinned manically, her dark eyes shadowed with lust. He looked up beneath her grip, his eyes dull, his mouth flowing with blood.

She leaned in, enjoying how he whimpered as the blade started cutting into his carotid artery.

“Now die a fucking virgin,” she whispered.

Once she felt his vein snap beneath her touch, she got up; she let his blood spray her legs, blood running from her nose down her teeth, a violent smile across her face. She raised one fist as the crowd roared, her blood pumping red-hot.

She turned to Sam and pointed at her big sister, watching Sam come to life through her win.

Sam pointed right back at her, her smile wide and eyes dark.