#who are each worth so much. every life is so valuable. the world and life itself are WORTH protecting and loving!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefandomdirtymind · 6 months

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Sanji x reader where shes a bit of a spoiled girl with high standards, who was raised by a group of pirates who couldn’t have children of their own. When they retire, they encourage reader to go out on her own and she meets the straw hats and joins them because of her talent for stealing without getting caught. When Sanji joins the crew, he forms a crush on reader and does everything he can to impress her from his cooking to flowers to small gifts, but reader isn’t impressed one bit because her family always went big and made sure she never settled for the small things.

A/N IMPORTANT: Hi anon ! Thank you for your request ! You seem to have a precise idea so I hope you will accept the little modification I did. It at first start very well and then I get sick and to be fair I had kind of a hard time with the end. But I hope you will like it .

His High Standard Princess

OPLA - Sanji

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

—

If we were asking your adoptive fathers and their crew of fearsome pirates, they would call you their little miracle. Lost in the sea, booping on the wave like a message in a bottle, they had found you, infant in your little basket, crying with all the force of your small lungs. Not so far, they also found the rest of the wreckage of what seemed like two ships. They never had truly searched for what happened. Accidents weren't uncommon on the East blue, it suffice of an abordage going wrong, waking a sea monster of his nap or a storm to finish your life with the fishes.

The pirate ship wasn’t, of course, the best place for raising a child, but they both did their best, searching at each port they made a halt, to ask mothers about tricks and parental advice. Soon, you become a brave, smart and skilled woman, returning to your fathers their love, with the interest that you have grown to be one of the best thieves the world has ever seen. And it was a good thing that you were as quiet as a mouse on your feet, because being the little princess of a group of pirates meant they had cherished you and covered you in gold, giving you a strong appetite for the precious metal and some pretty high standard. Or, like your adoptive fathers always said, you knew your worth and didn’t settle for less.

That’s why you knew, when you saw the golden pendant in his bed of velvet, that you had to steal it, because you deserved it. It didn’t take you more than fifteen minutes, in broad daylight, for it to be your. Of course, you already had multiple necklaces, even one that looked like this one, but the truth was that you were bored and the stone in the center had your favorite shade of blue.

The action in your life was in a dangerous decline since your adoptive parent had decided to retire. You could understand, their life had been rough, with all the battles, storms and adventures. They deserve their peaceful life and as much as they encourage you to abandon them and go explore the world, you couldn’t bring in you the force to let them. But as you walk for the fifth time that road sinding the village in two, you can't help yourself to wonder what you could see and steal if you leave to live your own adventure.

You were taking a little snack, previously the propriety of the mayor's daughter, when you heard words you hadn't heard outside of your own house for a long time.

“ Nami, how far do you think we are from the Grand Line ? “ A young man wearing a straw hat, but nothing apparently valuable, said, passing in front of you.

The grand line, the place where most of your children's fairy tales took place. Every member of the crew had told you stories about rumors of incredible treasure, sea monsters covered in gold, dangerous pirates and of course, the legendary One Piece. Child, all those stories had made you head spin, making you beg your fathers to bring you there. Now adults, you understand that it was way too dangerous with you on board. And, without a great crew ready to take you in, you hadn’t no way to leave this small village. That's why you had tried to forget as much as possible the idea of all the richesses and the mysterious treasure. Until now.

Turning on your heels, throwing your/not your half eaten sandwich in a trash can, you followed the small group from a safe distance, admiring their chemistry. As you try, as much as you can, to stay silent and learn what they know about your dream destination. Soon,you couldn’t help yourself, quietly approaching their group more and more at each change of direction. As much as you love your adoptive parents and guilt would hunt you down, you couldn’t deny that the quiet life was slowly killing you, and, if that was your exit ticket sent by fate, you will not step back.

Taking another turn, now just behind them, you suddenly stop on your track as the orange haired girl spoke.

“ I don’t know why you follow us, but I wouldn't try to rob us if I were you “

“ Nami, who do you talk to ? “ The young man asked, confused as he looked around him.

“ That girl followed us for a while now, she isn’t a marine, neither a welcome committee and as her bag can assure you she’s a thief. And a good one, I didn’t hear her until a few streets away and it was because of a puddle. “ She said, facing you. Her expression wasn’t really friendly, and,as much as you were yourself embarrassed and hurt that she had unveiled you, you put your hands in fist and brave yourself. After all, you did nothing wrong. For once.

“ I didn’t want to rob you, I heard you talk about the Grand Line and I was curious,that's all. It’s my dream to discover its treasure. Did you really head there ?” You asked, your hope coloring your word.

“ Yes,I’m Monkey D. Luffy, she’s Nami. We will go to the grand line, find the One Piece and I will become king of the pirates ! Do you want to join our crew ? “ Luffy happily proclaimed, asking you to join them like if it was a stroll in the park.

“Luffy, we didn’t even know her, we can’t take every dreamer who crosses our path“ Nami almost protested, his gaze more amical but still trying to determine if you were a threat or not.

“ Nami, she’s good, you said to yourself, that if it wasn’t from that puddle you could never have known she was following us. We will need a good ally and I trust her ! “

“ I’m Y/N. I swear I will not steal something which belongs to you “ You promised “ I will worth it , please it’s my dream. If I stay here I will die of boredom.”

“ We have other crew members, it has to apply to them too “ Nami sighs, finally smiling at you. An understanding of your situation in her gaze “ We leave in two hours, will you be ready ?“

“ I will, “ You smiled.

–

Your goodbye, emotional but proud, had been brief but full of happiness. You all knew that the world wasn’t prepared for you, but you were ready to steal it dry with a smile and without making a sound.After taking your bag, hearing your papa sad complaint that with your extraordinary talent he will not have a warrant to put on their wall, you leave for the port.

–

The place was busy and noisy, many varieties of boat were leaving or arriving and the common sense of communication seemed to yell at each other, creating a brouhaha who gave Sanji a headache. As if he already had one at guiding Usopp and Zoro charging the crate of fresh provisions, while trying to stop Luffy from opening them and serving himself. Securing the rope of the last barrel, he heard a feminine voice.

“ I’m sorry sir, is that yours ? “

Turning himself to face you, his breath stayed stuck in his throat as you beauty caught him unguard. Sure, he had seen beautiful women pass the door of the Barratie and Nami in herself was a perpetual sunrise. But you, was a true vision. Sadly, the handkerchief in your hand wasn’t his and as stupid as it seems he was almost jealous of the mysterious owner.

“ I...Hello Madam, I'm almost sorry that isn’t mine, but I would gladly help you if you need help returning it to its owner. You know... keeping you company during this kind quest “ He offered, tittling his head, his seductive smile already spreading his lips.

“ Y/N, didn’t we agree that you will not steal something from us, give it back to him, Sanji is our cook “ Nami joyfully yells from the Going Merry upper deck rail.

“ Y/N, you made it ! “ Luffy joined, two pieces of bread in his hand. “ Sanji, it’s Y/N, she will go with us now “

“ Sorry Nami, I didn’t know ! Hi Luffy “ You replied, the tissue disappearing in your pocket as you pulled out Sanji’s golden lighter. “ Sorry for that…nice to meet you “ You smiled in front of his surprised face. Taking back his property, putting it back in his pocket, trying to understand at which moment you could have taken it without him noticing.

“ Y/N, what a pretty name. I’m Sanji “ He introduced himself, your soft smile making him weak in the knees. “ May I offer you to help you come aboard “

“ I will be fine thank you, I grew up on a ship. I was kind of a small pirate princess. “ You confessed, climbing the ramp leading to the lower deck.

“ Princess indeed suits you, you seem straight from a fairy tale “ Sanji flirts, following you, saving ,as he passes alongside Luffy, one of the small breeds.

“ You have a hell of a silver tongue, be careful that nobody tries to steal it “ You joked.

“ If I could, I would gladly give it to you “ He sweetly said, trying to help you with your bag. “ Sadly it would mean never tasting food so it was kind of a disadvantage for my job.”

Laughing, you made your way to the cabin where you put down your bag.

“ What food do you like ? “ He asked, eager to know more about you “ I can do everything you want “

“ No offense,but, from the cook of a pirate ship, I doubt it. My father had kidnapped a reputable chef who had stayed in our crew until they retired. I never tasted food like his after that.”

“Test me “ He replied, an amused smile on his lips.

To his surprise, your response to his usual question wasn’t any basic dishes and would truly be worth it to be served in a five star restaurant. No meat directly in the bones or rice ball. But an actual meal who’s will required him to work his skill for hours to obtain the perfect result. And you wouldn’t stop at the main course, telling him stories of delicate desserts you had eaten.

It was that moment that Sanji knew that you were made for each other. Sure, you weren't the only woman with a delicate palate in all the east blue. But even if his talent in the kitchen wasn’t contested, he wanted you to enjoy his version of those dishes and forget all the memories of those lower poor attempts( in his opinion) you had before. And if at the same time he could win you over with his charm additionned to his food, it would even be better.

It was on that base that he was starting his crusade. Months passed without you even being impressed by his effort. Sure you had been surprised that he was a great cook, but that was all. Days after days, he made for your favorite meals and dishes Zeff would never allow past the door of the Baratie kitchen, judging it too fancy for his clientèle.

If you go on a mission or just a resupply in an island, the man would come back to you, a flower bouquet bought or handmade in hand, every time different flowers that he proclaimed knew the significance. And, each time, the flower was an affirmation of his affection. He even went to give you a small pendant of a golden rose.

It wasn’t that you didn’t acknowledge his effort or his affection. His cooking was impeccable and yes, even better than you had previously tasted. But, even if you think it was indeed sweet that he always tries to prove himself to you, you couldn’t stop yourself to think that you could have stolen every one of those gifts he gave you. And, if it's that easy to steal, will you really settle for some easy stuff. Weren't you worth at least a or many treasure chests?

It didn’t take long, in a strange way, for you to have your answer.

You had been sent, in the cover of the night, in a stealing or like Luffy prefer to call it, a rescue artifact mission. The mayor of the village you currently stop at asks the straw hat crew for help and there you are, tip-toeing in the almost deserted rival ship, while the others were distracting the crew at the tavern or had your back walking the dock. Even if, when you had left a few minutes ago, Zoro and Sanji were more into annoying each other, than looking at the horizon for possible danger.

The ship was mostly in the dark, helping you as much as causing you troubles. The only sound you could hear, beside the wave crashing slowly against the hull, was a distante snoring you couldn’t exactly pinpoint in the many rooms you had to explore.

You could never have expected that it was in fact not a snore you had heard but the noise of the machine guarding the many treasure chests and the precious artifact.

Entering the room, you couldn’t believe your luck. Everywhere you were looking, open treasure chests full of gold and jewels were calling for you, making you put your guard down. Grabbing the golden statue, you didn’t notice the noise becoming slightly louder as you put a handful of coins in your pocket.

“ Y/N ! Where are you ?! We have to go, it's bad ! “ You heard Sanji, somewhere behind you, his footsteps like he was running.

“ Sanji ? Lower your voice you will wake the sleepy dude somewhere “ You order him, seeing him pass the door.

“ We have to get out now ! It’s not a snore, it's the ship blocking every exit. When I came in, the hull was already covered in metal.” He explained.

“ Shit, it must be something I miss when I check the security...okay okay, hm...take the handle of this chest, I take the other and we can go” You said, already moving to the larger one.

“ What, no we don’t have time for this, we have to go now ! “ He repeat, looking at you confused that you didn’t take more seriously the closing ship problem.

“ Sanji, look at all this gold. I don’t go without it, it could be insanity” You said, confusing yourself that he can’t understand that. “ If you don’t want to fine, I will take it by myself.”

“ Y/N, I don’t leave you behind and that gold is too heavy we have to go, now “ He still patiently tries to make you understand, advancing his hand to reach yours.

“ Think of all the things we could do with that much gold, the quality ingredient you can buy “

“ Not if we are caught there and killed. You worth for me way more than that gold and ingredient, Y/N Please “ He pleaded, taking your free hand. “ Let’s go “

His words at first shock you, after all knowing your worth and not settling for less was almost the motto in your family. But, you had to admit it was right, all the gold was way too heavy and you couldn’t do anything with it if you end up being caught. It was then, still unsure that you took his hand, the artifact in your bag, you ran until you could see the star above your head.

Few hours later, as the villagers were celebrating the return of their precious idol, you find a quiet place on the beach, admiring the stars and waves crashing on the sand. You had heard his footsteps coming your way, recognizable by his controlled but relaxed rhythm, but, you choose to not let him know, you gaze still lost in the wave.

“ Still think about all the gold ? “ Sanji asked, taking a seat by your side. “ I know it isn’t even a quarter but it’s still gold. “

Turning your head, you notice the golden lighter in his hand, the same you had stolen from him the first day. But, your interest toward it has changed, his strange words earlier had stuck a sensible cord changing for you a lot of thought when it came to him.

“ Did you mean it ? What you told earlier “ You asked. “ About me worthing more that all that gold”

“ Of course “ He replied, putting back the lighter in his pocket seeing you hadn’t any interest in it. “ You’re more precious to me than those things. Sure I could have bought many high quality items for my kitchen and cooked dishes with five star ingredients.But it wasn't worth it if it put you in danger and resulted in you not being there anymore to enjoy those meals.”

All your life, gold and treasure had always been given to you on a platter and your stealing service had usually been discussed with a large sum of Berries at the end. Then, the fact that Sanji wasn’t interested in either your talent or the gold but simply in you, was truly shocking to your core.

Turning your gaze on him, seeing him, with the light of the moon illuminating his features gently, you smiled.

“ I knew I should have stolen that silver tongue of yours” You joked, your heartbeat taking a faster beat.

" I’m still afraid I still need it to pre-taste the food, but I gave my heart in exchange” He offered, happily watching you chuckle to his cheesy line.

“ Fine, I accept the trade “ You answer finally “ But I still expected high quality meal “

“ Of course my Princess, I would never give you less than the best, ” Sanji replied, his adoration gaze fixed on you. After all, for him, you’re the most precious thing in the world.

#one piece netflix #opla #opla sanji #opla!sanji x reader #sanji x reader #vinesmoke sanji x reader #one piece #one piece sanji #opla vinesmoke sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #open request #request

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heliosthegriffin · 7 months

Text

Shadow Knight, and Magic Girls VII

Chapter Seven

"What?" Jaune looked at the number before him, his eyes bulging.

Big Bear smirked. "It's what you owe the family, currently. Before future expenses, of course."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't possibly thing that everything is just water under the bridge, do you?'

"No, not for a moment, but, why the bill?" Jaune wavered around the seven digit number. "Shouldn't I be getting money?"

Big Bear nodded. "You will." He gestured all around. "One day, it could be all yours." Big Bear held up a finger. "If you play your cards right."

Jaune scanned his face. "I see, what's the game, then?"

"Good, you're catching on." He pulled out a stack of chips. "I'm not giving you money for free, this is a investment, and a test." He slid the stack of Lien over, Jaune paled, he had never seen so much money in one place. "We'll, as in the Clan, be financing your adventure from this point on, weapons, health expenses, armor, tools, training, food, anything you may need."

Jaune held up the stack of Lien Chips. "And this?"

"An allowance, for this month, and a loan, as Heir I expect you to invest wisely, and make back the money we're putting forth." His eyes narrowed. "However, this money is a loan, every month there will be interest, not much, but more than you can afford, along with what you already owe."

"Which is already more than I can make in one life-time ... legally, at least."

"Which leads me into point B." He pulled up his scroll, sitting it on the floor, a hard-light map of city came up. "You're work will continue, but this time, with incentive."

Jaune looked over the map, small red ax's were all over the city. "Your men?"

"Yes. They will be my eyes and ears, if they call for you, you run to them. They will observe as you slay monsters, and with each kill, your amount owed will decrease."

"Ah." Jaune smiled. "I can do that. How much will each kill be worth."

"100 Lien minimum, with added worth depending on the beast."

"That's non-negotiable, I imagine?"

"Yes." Big Bear added firmly. "We are extending our hand to you, do not bite it."

"Fair enough." Jaune did some quick math. "If I go by the minimum amount, I'd have to kill over 10,000 of them to ever be free, and that's without taking into account all the expenses I'll have." Jaune held the stack of chips, it felt much heavier. "That's the test isn't?"

"How can I trust you to be my heir, if I can't trust you do a little bit of finances."

'A little, he says,' Jaune thought to himself, he sighed. "Oh well, I'm already in, so not like I'm going to say no."

"Nor would I let you, this is the first night of the rest of your days," He smirked. "This will be a long, arduous journey, but I have faith you will manage. Then one day, I can leave his dirty place in your hands, to turn it into something worth while."

"I don't know if I can handle that responsibility, I'm not much of an accountant."

"Don't worry, I won't leave you alone in this." Uncle Xiong turned to one of his mistresses. "Send them up."

Jaune rose a brow.

A moment passed, and Amber, Vernal, Militia, and Melanie entered in.

"Congratulations Amber, from this day forward, you will be my Heir's personal physician." The dusky-skinned woman darted her eyes back and forth between Jaune and Uncle Xiong with utter confusion.

"Excuse me, but you no longer have a heir?" Amber said worriedly, hoping this wasn't in being put in the crypt with the rest of the kings valuables sense.

"Yeah," Militia added. "Junior's dead, who are you talking about?"

Melanie faced palmed. "Dolts. Look, in Blondies hands." They stared at the red ax in his hand. "That's a Red Ax, only the heir and the head can have one. Do the math."

Vernal whistled. "Wow, moving up in the world."

Jaune waved at his friends. "Thanks."

"Oh." Amber said weakly. "Alright then." Unsure of what she could add.

Vernal put her arm around her shoulder. "Well, at least you don't have to go around plucking bullets out of no-name chumps anymore. Now, you get to pull bullet out of the heir to Xiong Clan."

Amber nodded. "Well, at least it's somebody actively doing good."

Vernal then turned to Big Bear. "So, what about me? Do I still have your protection?"

"Sure." Then pointed at Jaune. "In particular his, congratulations. You're his personal Ink-Master, I heard you have a feather-touch with a needle." He turned to Jaune. "Make time at the end of the week, we need to get the Clan's symbol on your back."

Jaune paled. "I have to get a tattoo?"

"Yes. This is non-nonnegotiable."

Jaune sighed. "Well, then I want it on my terms."

"Fair enough, what were you thinking?"

"I want my family crest with it."

"You will get the family crest, two red axes."

"I mean the Arc Crest."

Once more, Big Bear's eyes widened at the name. "Ah, the warrior's mark."

"What?"

"Oh don't worry, ask your family, they'll tell you." He waved off Jaune's concerns. "You shall have it." Then Big Bear turned to Melanie and Militia, the twins.

"And those, two." He pointed at the twins. "They shall act at your handlers, they will monitor you, pull you out of danger, and be a intermediary between us. If you need money, they will give it to you, if you need a ride somewhere, they will get you there, but," He paused, looking at Jaune intensely. "That does not make them your servants, treat them well." He added with a sharp edge.

"Until you are ready to be inducted as Clan Head, they will be your shadows, making sure you are ready. Until you are ready, they will the beneficiary to this deal, when they decide you are ready, they will hand over the keys."

Melanie looked shocked, her eyes darting between Jaune and Uncle Xiong.

Militia didn't seem to comprehend, just nodding happily.

"Alright, I understand, then."

"One day you might." Big Bear added. "Also, they're expenses are you expenses, so all they're pay comes goes on your bill."

Jaune sighed. "Of course, anything else?"

Uncle Xiong smiled wickedly. "Well, since you ask. As the heir to the Xiong Clan, I expect you to be well-groomed, mannered, and dressed in public at the minimum. Also, you are still a student?"

Jaune nodded warily. Where was he going with this?

"I expect you to be a model student as well, your grades to be in the top percentile, with behavior befitting your status." His beady eyes gleamed. "Any steps out of line of these parameters will be met with further penalty to your debt."

Jaune paled, going from milky to ghastly skinned.

Then he clapped his hands. "Ladies, take him away!" Four harem-girls grabbed Jaune, picking him up. "Get his measurements, all of his measurements!"

----

Jaune walked out of the Xiong Compound into the morning light, dressed like a a heir should be.

Or a well-dressed debt slave.

Whatever he is, now.

He looked at the rising morning sun. When had been the last time he had been out in the morning sun? It felt nice, warm, like a blanket from the dryer, like when he was younger and his mother would drop warm blankets on him on while he was relaxing.

Jaune could have fallen asleep standing up in the sunlight. A slap to the back paused that idea, for now.

"Well, lets get you to school," Militia said tiredly. "So, I can go to bed."

Melanie stepped pasted him. "Agreed."

"That'd be nice, but Beacon doesn't open till 9."

Militia looked at the sky. "What time is it? I thought kids went to school at like, uh, the morning?"

"Correct by technicality, didn't you go to school? Also, the sun's just rising, so it's about 6ish."

Militia shrugged. "I mean, Uncle Xiong had us tutored here, so no, not really."

"She barely passed," Melanie added. "Despite knowing all the answers,"

"I'm bad at taking tests, alright?" Militia pouted.

Jaune nodded in agreement. "Me too, something about translating what I know in my head into words, just trips me up."

"I know, right?!" Militia said taking his hand, shaking it rapidly.

Melanie sighed. "It's not hard, just think a bit, girl."

"I can think! It's just getting it out of my heads the problem!"

A sudden, immense sound surprised them, the Twins jumping, as a growl sounded.

They turned to the source, one blushing Jaune Arc-Xiong. "Sorry, I'm kinda of hungry."

Melanie looked in horror at his slim figure. "How do you pack it away?"

"Woah," She looked at her sister. "It's all gone. That was like 10,000 calories."

"Mine if we get something to eat?" Jaune asked, face flushing.

Melanie nodded. "Sure, just make look and don't get your new clothes a mess," She looked over approvingly at his suit. "Unless, you want to wrack more of debt."

"Not particularly."

"Then don't get anything on it. Don't wrinkle it either."

"So, what's for breakfast than, Mr. heir?" Militia added.

"Steak. Eggs. Coffee." Jaune thought aloud. "Know anywhere like that?"

Melanie shook her head. "I'm a light eater."

"I got a place," She held up her scroll. "There's a place not far,"

-----

Velvet zoned out, Coco was talking about her new project, but Velvet wasn't able to keep up. She suspect that Coco didn't care, she just wanted someone to look like they were listening, so make her seem more legit.

She had been woken up at Coco knocking on her dorm at 6 in the morning, and then been invited out for breakfast, and where currently sitting in the morning light on the outside patio.

She sipped her coffee, and took a bite of her biscuit, then went to scratching in her notebook. More theories, then frowned. Her pencil lead broke.

Sighing, she reached for her purse.

Only to make eye-contact with someone having the same idea.

Beady, yellow eyes stared at her, as a dirty looking man crouched behind her chair, hands going to her purse.

Her heart stopped beating, as fear over took her, unable to do anything as her throat refused to open, she shook as he smiled and then ripped her purse off the chair, nearly toppling her over in the process, and took off at a dead-sprint down the street.

Coco noticed, face turning red. "Someone get him! He just stole a purse! Hey you! Yeah! You, jackass! What the hell is that, what kind of establishment is this place, do you let anybody in here. AGH! Nevermind, get your managers, call the police, do something!" Coco marched over to the server, yelling at him.

Velvet shook, this wasn't happening. No way, this wasn't happening, her purse had her scroll, her wallet, her keys to get home, her camera! "No, no, no, no, no." How was she going to get back in her dorm? How was she going to paying for lunch? How was she going call anyone?

Her face felt warm. She looked at her fingers, they were trembling like tree branches, she felt her blood race around her body so fast it hurt.

What if he found her notes on The Shadow Knight? What if he told everyone what a freak she is, a faunus freak, obsessed over somebody that she never even met!

This was it, this was the end of her life, nothing was ever going to be the same.

"So, this the place?" Jaune asked, getting out of the back of the car, it creaked as he got out. It was a nice car, though, it probably wasn't rated for someone in the small-bear weight range.

"Yeah, I think so, Beef & Bean Brew?" Militia climbed out of the front seat.

Melanie closed the door to the drivers seat. "You know? I wasn't actually hungry at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I feel like I can eat something. Oh! Hey, Jaune watch out, somebody's coming through."

Jaune looked at Melanie then the side walk, as a man came barreling down the street, clutching a purse like it was buried treasure.

Jaune noticed several things. One the man was clearly a bum. Two. He was a drug addict, it was easy thing to pick out once you knew what to look for. 3. That was a nice purse.

Making his executive decision for the morning, he held out a arm as the man came running by, folding over it into a L-shape, his foul breath leaving him, as he spun and landed with his back on the ground.

The purse spun in the air, and Jaune caught it without thinking. It had a little bunny on it, Pumpkin Pete.

"Good taste." He said.

"Oh, trouble down the street." Militia pointed at a girl yelling at cop and a manager, while a girl sat still as a corpse. "Maybe, we should go somewhere else?"

Jaune looked at the purse. "Nah, it should be fine. Just give a second to make things right." He then picked up the bum, then dragged them over to the restaurant.

Melanie sighed. "Whatever, I didn't want to find another place anyway." She looked at Militia. "Get his badge number, in case things get risky, he might be on the payroll."

Velvet couldn't think, it was all crashing down, Coco was going to leave her, why would she want to be friends with a worthless freak like her?

No one was going to talk to her ever again. She was such a coward, she should have done something, anything! Now, everyone would know she's a coward, and weirdo, and-"

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" She heard Coco verbal attack someone, but Velvet couldn't be bothered to see.

Then a shadow loomed over her, a bag with little rabbit was dropped in her lap. "There, don't lose it again." Came a very rough, but warm voice.

Velvet looked at her bag, then at the giant in front of her, then back at her bag, then clutched it to her chest.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." She looked up at the figure to get a good look at him, then paralyzed, as she recognized the person in front of her.

He was dressed differently, well groomed instead of being unruly, but, that gold hair, milky skin, dark-eye bags, and deep, blue eyes just didn't hide well.

Her heart stopped.

Jaune Arc, the schools biggest thug was standing in front of her, and he had ... helped her?

Velvet went rigid, confused.

Wasn't he supposed to be a bully, or really mean? Why was he helping her, why had he done that? It didn't make sense to her.

Coco came over, standing between her and Jaune.

"Ok, that's enough, she's thankful, now move on, buddy-, Arc?" Coco said after minute.

The cop stomped on over. "Anything else, ma'am?" He took one look at Jaune, and edged away, hand moving towards his radio.

"No, we're good. We know him."

Jaune gave a confused look, he couldn't rightly remember ever meeting them, but nodded slowly, eager for the cop to leave.

The cop look at the drug-addict, then at Jaune, then at the addict. "Well, I see I have work to do, good-day kiddos." Then escorted the addict and read him his writes, not that the addict was listening, struggling to breath after being clothes-lined.

The Twins then appeared behind Jaune. "Come on, we're hungry," Each taking a arm and guiding Jaune into the place.

Coco took off her sunglasses, looked at them to see if they were clean, then put them a back on. "That was real, wasn't it?"

Velvet said nothing, but internally more confused than she had felt in over year, not having this puzzled since the first appearance of the Magic Girls, and then the Shadow Knight.

"Arc, actually wearing, no not just wearing, strutting his stuff in designer clothes, helping us, with arm candy, and actually cleaned up for once. I'm not hallucinating, right, Vel?"

Velvet finally regained control over her body. "Maybe, we both are? But, then my purse wouldn't be back. So, it has to be reality, unless we've both experience localize mass hysteria."

"I somehow, that sounds more belivable."

A shadow passed them, and they saw him be seated with the two arm-candy.

The pair watched, for a moment.

"I guess, reality is unrealistic," Velvet added.

"I guess, so." Coco agreed after a moment.

-----

"Men, no, not men, Boys." Cardin announced to his fellow boys, Dove, Russel, and Sky. "For that is what we are. It has come to my attention, all of our attention, of how lacking we are in our manliness."

The three boys wept with despair.

"We have witness the pinnacle, the top of the mountain, heaven touching earth last night. Our prophet was among us all along, and we were blind to his works, until he made them known." Cardin said over a bonfire. "Jaune Arc, man among men. All this time we have feared him, and his power, not because we thought we were better than him, but simply because, we feared to understand him."

He took a deep breath. "Now, now we know better."

"But, how shall we make amends?" Dove questioned. "We lost ones in the mists of youth."

"By effort, by discipline, and by our bonds. My friends, today, we set out on a journey, we put away our toys, as the time for childish things is behind us. Now, it is time to go forth into the world, and find ourselves, to make ourselves in men!" He roared. "Who is with me?!"

"AYE!" Dove agreed.

"Yes!" Sky rose, roaring at the morning sun.

"I guess." Russsel shrugged.

The other boys looked at him.

Then he rose up and roared too. "Yeah!"

"Now, let us begin."

A shadow then feel over the bonfire, one of great girth, size, and mustached power.

"Well said, Lads." He towered over the boys, a battle-ax on his shoulder, and a shotgun in other hands.

A wind blew from behind him, extinguishing the fire.

Cardin stared in awe at the figure. "Who are you?"

His mustache rose, smile under it. "My name is Peter Port, and I am here to guide you boys in the Art of Man."

#jaune arc #fanfic

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theghostnugget · 5 months

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My YYH AU is as follows:

Literally the only change is that Hiei and Yukina meet as children. Hiei gets the Jagan, finds the floating ice island, and instead of finding Yukina happily playing with some animals, he sees her getting lectured by an older ice maiden who is telling her that her emotions are shameful and she’s just like her whore mother. Hiei descends from the trees to stand between his sister and the emotionless shell calling her horrible names. He insults her back and threatens to set her on fire if she doesn’t apologize to his sister. The ice maiden flees to sound the alarm, but Yukina grabs Hiei’s hand and begs him to take her somewhere free. So, like the doting big brother he is, Hiei takes her to the most free place he knows - the woods (where Yukina promptly begins playing with the forest animals). They chat and bond, and when Hiei tells her he’s leaving she begs to go with him. And once again, like the doting brother he is, he obliges. Suddenly, through his lonely crimeful traipsing through the Demon World, his precious sister is tagging along.

As they grow up, they become nearly unrecognizable compared to the Hiei and Yukina we know. They’re similar in the most important ways – Hiei is still a violent criminal and Yukina is still a soft-hearted sweetheart, but they balance out the damage in each other.

Hiei’s biggest flaw (when you boil down the rage, violence, and criminal behavior) is two-fold. The first fold is poor modelling – His role-model (which he actually admits is the closest thing he had to a father) was a thief who was perfectly happy to murder a baby until he found out that the baby had something valuable. Violence, murder, and insults are the only tools that Hiei was given to interact with the world. The second fold? Hiei was never loved unconditionally – and in fact has never been loved at all. He was allowed to continue existing if he was useful enough, but no living person has ever treated Hiei with care or affection. EVER. This leads to someone who is violently and fiercely determined to be viewed as strong. Because that’s literally the only redeeming quality he thinks he has.

Yukina has been treated like a burden her entire life. Her father doesn’t know she exists, her mother killed herself when Yukina was young (kind of implying that Yukina wasn’t worth living for), and her entire community treats her like a freak. She’s an orphan, raised (at best) by her mother’s ex-best friend who’s crippled with guilt. Every Ice Maiden in the village is afraid she’ll turn out just like her mother (who’s crime, as far as we know, is being curious about other cultures – which Yukina is – and having an open heart – which Yukina does… Also sex, but that’s not conducive to my point). I’d be shocked if she didn’t develop some kind of complex about “proper behavior”. The Yukina we see in the show is polite and demure and easy to deal with – She’s even kind, forgiving, and unobtrusive about the fact that she was kidnapped and tortured ruthlessly for years. She’s helpful and sweet every single second that she’s on screen, because she feels like that’s the only way she can be accepted. She also has never been loved unconditionally. No living person has ever treated her with care or affection unless she buried her feelings deep down and behaved like an ice maiden should. And even then, the affection she received wasn’t really affection so much as her elders reluctantly acknowledging her self-control.

Then they meet and everything changes. Suddenly, Yukina’s “emotional outbursts” become something her brother loves about her. She gets angry, snapping as someone loudly and in public, but before that shame can even sink in, Hiei is laughing. If she can’t hold back her tears, Hiei nervously wraps his arms around her in the best approximation of a hug he can give. And Hiei’s “signs of weakness” become something he can connect to his sister with. He wakes from a nightmare, gasping in fear, and instead of being beaten for waking everyone up he receives a hug and reassurance. When he feels like a failure after losing a fight, his sister is there to comfort him.

A Hiei with the love of his sister isn’t as volatile as the Hiei we see. When someone insults or threatens him, he’s not defensive. Because sure, maybe he’s never played rock-paper-scissors, but his sister loves him exactly the way he is so fuck you. A Yukina with the love of her brother is much more wild than the Yukina we see. She’s not afraid to react with fierceness or anger or tears, because she knows her brother will do anything he can to rectify the situation – and he would never judge her for her feelings.

They meet Team Urameshi because Yukina is curious about the human world and Hiei takes her there because he’s powerless in the face of his sister saying “Please”.

Listen, all I want is for Hiei to know he is safe and loved (which Yukina would constantly remind him of) and for Yukina to know that she’s so valid and unbelievably loved (which Hiei would never let her forget). Please.

#Yu yu hakusho #Yyh #Yukina #Hiei #Sibling Bonding

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siberiascaravan · 1 year

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Betraying Hearts: Prologue

A quick note from the author:

To keep my fiction inclusive as possible and to make my writing better, we are going to be doing some stuff a bit different than the usual (y/n).

Using they/them pronouns. But, if you want to replace those with your pronouns as you read. I am all for it.

Instead of (Y/N) we are going to go by a ‘Code Name’ - Fern Vesper. Again, should you decide to change it to your name as you read along, totally understand 🙂

I won’t be describing skin color, eye color, or hair color/texture. However, I will say that this character isn’t bald. So, there will def be hair.

Age limit: I recommend my material be read by adults only. But, I understand it’s the internet and I was young once too. Please understand that this material might not be suitable for minors.

Happy holidays. I hope this is a good intro! More to come ♥

Enough blabbing, I just wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page ♥

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adrenaline rushed through your veins like an electrical current riding with the flow of your bloodstream. Each pump of your heart brought on a new wave of electricity. How long has it been since you had been brought to this room; surrounded by walls painted in an inky blue hue that made it feel as though one were suffocating in the ocean at night? A clock, the only thing in this empty holding cell sat right above the door into and out of this room; Your eyes glued to the surface, burning from lack of blinking. Maybe if you watched the clock time would go slower and whatever was about to happen would happen later rather than sooner. The heavy clunking of the gears working behind the face of the object sounded with each passing second; taunting you with an omen of what was to come.

Why did you have to open your big mouth? Was it worth all the trouble it seemed to have gotten you into? The only reason you get pulled into a room by yourself is to be fired. Or worse. A groan sounded as you ran your fingers softly down your cheeks.

The expression on his face after you had spoken up and 'corrected' him.. The memory alone was enough to tug at one corner of their mouth in a smug smirk. It wasn’t often one got to correct someone of higher standing. Especially someone like him, whom no one dared question; According to the agent who brought you in here anyways.

~*~*~*

The day started so normal as Fern opened their eyes and went on with the same morning routine they had for years. It wasn’t much, just the basics. Hygiene, basic skin care, teeth care, you know the usual. Work had gone about the same excluding the mention of a new section of the RDA opening with employees to fill all positions. Aside from that one shred of news- It was almost like living a rerun of your life every day. Though, you would be lying if you said they didn’t love what you did for a living. Honestly, Fern Vesper was the ‘Jack-Of-All-Trades’. Combat knowledge, tech-savvy, and crafty. Another plus was Fern’s smarts; despite not having a degree- the RDA simply tested them to make sure Fern was as good of an asset as they were claiming to be. Once you passed that test it was a breeze to get a job there. Their overlooking your lack of college experience when it came to hiring was one of the reasons you joined. One of them. Another reason was due to your history. The RDA didn’t seem to mind too much either provided you didn’t cause them any issues.

The past IS the past. Nothing more needs to be said about it. People make mistakes. But, they grow from it and learn.. Still, it didn’t stop some of the guilt that ate away at you while you lie there in bed.

It was after work hours, you had been looking through work emails on your tablet. No jobs or requests meant you had all the time in the world to do what you did best: Researching whatever the hell you wanted. All information was valuable after all. The newer the discovery - the better.

This deep, rough, commanding voice echoed through the halls from an upcoming room with its door open. This wasn't typical since all information was kept on a ‘need-to-know basis. Doors were closed when in conference rooms. SO, Knowing the door wasn’t closed, you saw this as an opportunity to see what was going on. Maybe there was food involved, like a potluck. Who would miss out on free food?

‘CERTAINLY, NOT I’ you think, chuckling to yourself as both feet stopped just before the threshold. You inhaled slowly and softly, making sure you weren’t making too much noise to not alert anyone within, just in case you weren't meant to see or hear whatever was going on. Ever so slowly, hues round the corner to peek in.

The room held a ‘squad’ or ‘team’ of men and women who stood rigid unmoving towards the front of the room facing the aforementioned door. Luckily it seemed they didn’t take notice of you at the time; Their eyes never faltered from the source of the voice. Without warning a muscular body would move in front of them effectively blocking them from your view, but, facing the soldiers standing at attention. What a sight to see. The entire room still with that many bodies in there- it was kind of freaky. Like a bunch of statues.

“Alright, I’m feeling particularly jolly this evening soldiers.” He began, moving down the line of his group- “If any one of you can tell me what the most important thing is when you find yourself in new territory.. I’ll let you all go for the evening. It is Friday after all.” a dark chuckle followed as the men and women in that room looked around at one another. Finally, they all attempted to answer him but to no avail. Some even began to look disgruntled.

“I’d suggest securing a food suppl-”

“That’s not true! A shelter is the first thing you should secure!”

You cant tell who said that. It wasn't until people started to shift their attention to you that you realized that voice was YOUR voice before your brain could even process the fact your lips had moved. And with that single slip up all eyes were now on the intruder standing in the doorway. Especially his. Those icy blue hues drank in the other form. Every single detail. Every curve. He was taking a mental image to remember for later. In case this little disturbance decides to book it out of here and run. You could tell- this man was sizing them up.

Finally, his hues met yours and it felt as though you had been thrown into an icy Volcano. Like the ground beneath your feet quaked. Something had changed that day. He had narrowed his eyes, his hands still behind his back as he slowly moved to them like a serpent about to strike.

"Excuse me?"

"I-I just mean the average human body can go up to at least two weeks, if not more and while it isn't ideal-... you can use at least the first part securing a shelter and once that is taken c-care of.." It was like this man's presence sucked the air from whatever room he was in. Or maybe it was your social anxiety working itself up. Your eyes broke from the commanding body before you to look at the soldiers in the room who held no expression on their faces. A few had their brows knitted in a sort of: How could you question our leader??

A gust of breath sounded from the elder male, his pearly whites coming into view as he smiled- a smile that said: you done goofed. Lifting his left hand, he spoke:

"All of you are dismissed. Lyle, Please take our new friend into Room 2-C... I think we have some things we need to... discuss." One last look up and down before he pushed past Fern and Jones. This meant the conversation was done.

Was it worth it? Probably not. Fern never was smart when it came to social situations. They’d much rather be off alone somewhere with their nose in a book, or out in the field doing research work. But, surely they couldn’t be in too much trouble, besides they were the newbies here, Fern huffed at their internal monologue. Was only trying to make sure he understood that his men and women would be better working on a shelter and making sure everyone was okay before walking off to find food. At the same time, his statement as well could be true. But, you won't lose energy until around the two-week mark. Not the critical amount he is trying to make it seem anyways. On week two without anything accomplished one might as well accept their fate. THEN AGAIN SOME FACTORS CAN PLAY A PART TOO. Why didn't you blurt that out too?!

"I am not to be disturbed. Understood?"

Your heart began to beat in more rapid successions upon hearing the growl that fell from that man’s lips. It was enough to bring you back from your thoughts- cleverly disguised as an internal scolding. The door opened and closed in one fluid movement. Your orbs watched his massive, bulky frame fill up the room as he entered, moving around you, circling his prey in a sense, stopping just in front of you. His hand grabbed the chair seated directly across from yours and pulled it closer before he sat. Silence engulfed the room once more. Except for that massive pounding in your chest. Could he hear it? No, of course not. He was human. A dangerous-attractiv-

"What's your name?"

"Fern Vesper.. I'm a part of the research team and-"

"Awful long name. Fern Vesper, I'm a part of the research team." Visibly, you flinched as he reminded them he ONLY asked for your name.

“Fern.”

“Alright, Fern.” He retorted, his signature grin returning to his face as he leaned back, muscular arms crossing over his chest, fingers tucked under his armpits. His smile seemed to soothe you as you felt more at ease and oddly warm.. Matter of fact, it was getting warmer. Your cheeks felt as though they were on fire! Hues lifted to look back at the man as he had laughed softly, only to find that he was looking at the nervous mess in front of him known as: Y.O.U.

Shit.

“Colonel Miles Quaritch. Just joined as the leader of the-”

“Security Administration.”

Annoyance was the dullest thing the Colonel was feeling at the moment. This little pipsqueak was brave for as scrawny as Miles thought they were. Maybe he was right, only time would tell as that baggy uniform wouldn’t be what you were wearing here soon. Running his tongue across his teeth the former marine leaned forward, resting his forearms upon his knees. It caused a cold shiver to run up your spine.

“You ever heard of the old saying: ‘Think before you speak?’” The man before you finally stated, opting to ignore the obvious flushed face of yours. It was a beautiful sight for him. The blood pooling beneath your cheeks mixing with your skin tone made you radiant. And damn was he a sucker for a pretty little thing like you. “That means, shut the hell up if I am talking- until you have permission to speak. Do we understand?”

The muscles in your jaw clenched as you pursed your lips slightly. Something you did to stop yourself from speaking up and shoving your foot in your mouth. A single nod only came from you in response. That, however, was not good enough for him.

“I can't hear you nod, agent! That’s why god invented mouths, now let’s use ‘em”

“. . . Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“What..?” Confusion flooded your face as you felt the anger quickly being replaced by the aforementioned emotion. This only made Quaritch grin. He felt as though this relationship was going to be his favorite kind. The kind that would remind him of those nights in Nigeria. On the battlefield. He simply growled out to be addressed with a title. Sir or Colonel. Nothing less. Maybe it was him tilting his head to the side that made you become less- confrontational. “Yes.. Sir..”

“Now damn, was that so hard?” Straightening himself back up in his chair, his hands resting on his knees, he continued. “So, a smart person such as yourself must have a pretty good understanding of this place- right?” You could only nod as the man continued. He didn’t seriously want to hear from you preferring to have you listen. “So, I suppose you’ll be my little helper until I am settled or until I dismiss you.”

“Uhhhh- hah- what? No, listen I have-”

“The RDA has stated I may take what resources I need to help me settle in. And you by opening that trap of yours, have volunteered.” Outstretching his palms, his face twisted into an expression that said: Go ahead and argue with me. When no argument arose he slammed his massive palms together in a clap, the noise loudly echoing in the room making you jump. As he intended. “Seems like we are finally getting somewhere. Good.” came his low, growl of a voice, his boot hooking one of the legs of your chair, pulling you closer as he continued to discuss with you deep into the night..

~To Be Continued~

#Quaritch x reader #Quaritch fanfic #miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #avatar #avatar 2009

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helloitisiafellowgay · 8 months

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another part of my Steve gets Vecna’d AU, where i provide very little context lmaoo sorry

i’ve been working on this for OVER A YEAR and still have a few scenes to finish 😭 my draft rn is almost 19k so I’ll hopefully get it out before like November at this rate :)

vague context: this is the night before The Big Fight TM and people like JUST found out that steves possessed and eddie is cleaning steve’s demobat wounds

other post

——————

“Do you—“ the drug dealer looks conflicted, debating whether to poke at a neglected bruise. “Why didn’t anyone notice?”

There’s a knot in his throat, a tightening of his larynx. “What do you mean?”

”That you were hallucinating? Having nightmares?” Before, Eddie wouldn’t meet his gaze. Now, he won’t let Steve look away, slowly regaining his certainty, his intensity. “Why was I the only one to even consider anything was wrong? You’re not that great of an actor— you aren’t, don’t look at me like that— and they’ve known you so much longer than I have.”

And isn’t that the question he’d been shoving out of his own mind since the beginning of this whole mess? That small seed of doubt, pushing forward and flourishing now that someone else had stopped to water it.

He knows, he knows— they don’t care about him as much as he cares about them. Sees it in the way the kids dismiss him as soon as they arrive at their destination, only call on him when they want something; the way he gives it every single time regardless.

Each girl in his bed, driving him like a crash-test car; the excuse to leave, the cold sheets in the morning. A freezing bathroom at a party, the echo of bullshit refracting off the cold tile.

The crack of ceramic against his skull, the fist in his sternum, the stifling ash in his lungs in a buried tunnel. Interrogation tactics, missing fingernails, drugged out of his mind; flesh monster, the loss of the one male adult he could actually depend on.

And before it all, the steel door, the silhouette, the—

No.

No, Steve knows that he is, at his core, what he has always been: unloveable.

After the reactivity, the intentional cruelty of his youth, he expects nothing other than a warning label.

Danger: do not interact. Prone to violence.

Steve is his father’s son, after all. They share the same ruthless ferocity, the same scarred knuckles.

He has spent so long convincing the world that anything can be turned into a weapon, and he started with his hands; if he squints long enough, blood pools itself into the crevices of his palms, fingernails curving into sharp edges and the remnants of whiskey bottles.

A product of his environment, no doubt; the weight of his family name, absent parents, superficial friends.

King Steve with a hollow crown, sat in his pristine castle with everything a teen could ask for except anyone to make him feel worth following. Like something other than a cheap toy, a pretty face, a chore to be put off until a more convenient time.

It’s fact of his life, something he felt no reason to doubt when people keep proving it to him, over and over and over.

He’s useful— for rides to the arcade, for a place to hangout when everywhere else has been vetoed, to wield a baseball bat studded with nails, the last line of defense, the one who can be counted on to take the hit— but not their friend. Not wanted, not valuable, and certainly not lovable.

So how can he possibly justify this unwavering loyalty, his propensity to follow them around like a stray dog waiting on table scraps? Why he keeps coming back, offering every part of himself when none of them would do the same for him?

Steve shrugs. “They all have their own shit going on, they can’t help it. I didn’t want to make things complicated.”

The drug dealer frowns, already shaking his head in disagreement. “That’s not— not good enough. They’re not too busy, they just don’t…”

Care.

They just don’t care.

Steve catches the moment that the other boy sees the bundle of scars peeking just over the hem of his boxers. Tears his own focus away from those small, circular burns; old enough to be suspicious, obvious enough that even a ten-year-old could come to the correct conclusion about their origin without much effort.

A kid with cigarette burns— not common, but definitely not rare.

A rich kid with cigarette burns? That just doesn’t happen.

“Doesn’t Vecna go after people with trauma? It’s not like Steve—”

His stomach roils, a distant nausea working its way up his esophagus. The younger teen holds his breath and waits, but Eddie doesn’t ask, just furrows his brow and grazes over the puckered skin with a single, calloused thumb.

Steve shivers, bites his lip, fights the urge to dislodge the soft touch and flee the room. He doesn’t.

Eddie goes back to taping the raw edges of his wounds closed.

A sick, twisted heat takes root in his stomach; invasive and insatiable, it chokes out his heart until it has nowhere left to go except up into his throat, and flourishes in the abandoned cavity left behind.

“Do you think when he chose me… do you think he knew?” Steve’s a conglomeration of dull apathy and the underlying static of panic; he feels like he’s back under the water, suspended in time and trying desperately not to drown. “That I wouldn’t say anything? Wouldn’t want to tell them, you, about… That… that they don’t…?”

The musician pulls out a roll of gauze, presses one end to his rib cage with more care than anyone has shown him in a long time.

“I think that you hide so much from everyone, more than anyone thinks that you do. And I think that, to someone like him, it’s easy to mistake that for shame.”

Oh.

“And what if I am?” Steve clenches his jaw, flattens his lips to disguise their infernal trembling. “Ashamed… of being known? Afraid that people will hate what they find, if I were to let people in— share those parts of myself?”

The last of the sunset dissipates from the sky, leaves the world outside of the window cast in a deep indigo.

A murmur, almost subconsciously, from his healer: “Isn’t everyone?”

He is some sort of wretched thing— must be, to warrant this raw, gnawing ache in his core. The withering, the erosion at the fringes of his being, exposing the live-wire at the heart of him.

Pressure, as the dressing is applied to his wounds. The light brush of skin against skin.

“You aren’t an inconvenience, you know.” Eddie wraps the last of the bandage around his abdomen, secures it in place. “You are allowed to ask for help. And other people want to help, if you let them.”

The babysitter hums, a non-answer, omitted confirmation. Can do little else, lest he wilt under the force of this personification of a star.

“I might not know why none of the kids said anything, but...“ Off to the side, the discarded towel is depositing water on the floor. When Eddie reaches for it, there’s a damp patch on his jeans that the babysitter stares at while his hands are taken, dabbed at with damp cotton. “Robin, Nancy, and I literally followed you into hell. You’re not taking anything from us that we wouldn’t freely give.”

The older boy’s gaze is wild, reverent. From where he is crouched in front of Steve, it must look like he’s kneeling before a monarch, a King.

What a resolute act of devotion: tending to the wounds of a martyr, washing the blood from each finger as if every millimeter of exposed skin is something worth defending.

Steve doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve such absolution; this exoneration from all of the sin coating his fingers and dripping from his teeth. He is nothing more than a child devouring overripe berries in another family’s garden, filling his vacant stomach with sweet crimson nectar that he will never be able to justify aching for.

He is no deity, no patron saint or messiah. He’s barely a king. ”I’m not worth—“

He has never been religious— or, at least definitely not after the monsters came into the picture. But he knew then, knows now— there is no heavenly father, no almighty God, that could give him back that purity, that holy golden ichor.

Whenever Steve had plead to this creator, prayed for help while pinned to the ground under the malicious intent of another— there was no response. Just the echo of his faith, his questions, being tossed back at him, neglected and unanswered.

”You’re worth everything, Steve Harrington.” Eddie’s intensity, his conviction, makes Steve’s heart lurch somewhere in his chest. “There is nothing you could ask from us that you haven’t deserved a hundred times over.”

The cloth, damp and abrasive against his palms, collects strawberry residue within its woven fibers.

His crown must be less hollow than he thought.

There is no god that can restore his virtue, slip the innocence back into his pockets, baptize him in the light of unconditional love— but Eddie… Eddie is just a man.

Just a man, who wiped each of his fingers clean; dressed his wounds with such gentle hands. Just a man, who kissed each bruise, each old scar, without the intent to hurt.

Just a man who held him, who pulled him back when his whole body was on the edge of a precipice.

Who answered his questions without judgement— without stripping him of his divinity, casting him down from the heavenly throne and into the sulphuric pits of eternal damnation.

Just this boy, who looks at him like he is worth more here, in this moment, than he ever would be nailed to a cross.

What god has ever done that for him?

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #steve harrington has bad parents #steve gets vecna’d so that’s fun #got that religious trauma core #is it too obvious lmaoo #steve is very much In Love and making their relationship into more than what it is #which is a whole mood #like bro u just started hanging out like four days ago #chill tf out #don’t worry tho eddie also likes him but DAMN #fanfic #wip

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the-hinky-panda · 2 months

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The Drowning Kind: Part II

Title: The Drowning Kind

Pairing: Captain Sean Renard x OFC (written as a reader)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You heard of the Portland Grimm and leave your fundamentalist group of naiads in Vancouver. You just wanted a safe fresh start; you didn't expect to fall in love with a royal hybrid police captain.

There are two things that naiads are experts in: swimming and secrets.

When you first met Sean Renard, you immediately recognized a fellow secret keeper. Words were used sparsely and with the craft of saying enough but providing no actual information. It was a language that you spoke fluently and his presence soon became the closest thing you ever felt to being home. You didn’t think he felt the same way until you saw the red kayak on the river at ten o’clock at night two days after the close of the case you had offered assistance.

The late night rendezvous continued for the next two weeks, you floating alongside the boat while conversation flowed, still guarded but slowly unfurling tiny bits of information. You moved from Vancouver for a fresh start. His ancestry was old, traced back hundreds of years from Europe. You were living in a broken down house along the river because that was all you could afford. He was living in a penthouse in Portland. You had taught yourself how to read and write, your village not strong believers in their women being educated. He spoke five languages and had the best education money could buy.

Slowly, more valuable pieces started to become revealed. His hybrid heritage. Your disfigured hands and feet. His tiring game of playing both ends against the middle to protect the Portland Grimm. Your deep scars of a betrayal from someone you had trusted. He was searching for balance between the two worlds he represented. You were searching for the girl who had dreams and once believed that love was real.

So you found each other.

Due to the situation he found himself in, along with a diabolical brother who searched for leverage in every aspect of his life, you understood why this needed to stay a secret. For your protection and everyone else around you, no one could know that you had regained that tiny spark of hope that maybe love wasn’t a myth. You still weren’t convinced of what this was between you two but it was precious enough to protect. And you did, for the first time in a long time, feel truly protected. So you kept the secret.

“Where are we going?”

You glance over your shoulder. “What’s the matter, Sean? Don’t you trust me?”

The smile he gives you is sly, a subtle twist to the side of his mouth. “All I asked is what did you do today. Now you have me on one of the uninhabited islands in the middle of the river. I’m sure you can understand my unease.”

“I do,” you respond. Trust is hard for both of you after the lives you’ve lived. “It’s worth it, I promise.”

You found the abandoned fishing shack the same way you find everything, by accident. Growing up along riverbanks and on the edges of lakes in Vancouver, you had more of a need to know the flow of the water and the islands that got in the way of it. You were spending much of your free time learning the same thing here in Portland. That knowledge is what crossed your path with Detectives Burkhart and Griffin.

A group of college kids who had too much to drink had gone missing after an afternoon of tubing on the river. They unknowingly became prey for some rowdy wendigo and needed to be found ASAP. Burkhart had reached out to the naiad community in the harbor and you had wanted to show your worth to your new community. You didn’t expect to be the one to find them but you did, only one out of the group of seven fell victim to the wendigo. Now, you were the riverway consultant for the Portland PD.

After your maiming, you were still able to be useful.

The shack was falling down, abandoned for years. It didn’t take much to patch the small roof or replace the broken board walls. It was meant to be a shelter from the elements, nothing longstanding. There’s no electricity that runs into it so you have to get creative in how to fix it up. Abel and his daughters helped you out by using their fishing boat to bring a futon, small armchair, and a desk. You brought some of your books and candles. You pitched it to them as your retreat but your true intention is to share it with only one other person.

He takes in the ramshackle little hut with cautious curiosity. “Did you build this?”

“No, I’m not that talented.”

You push the door open hesitantly. You had already lit some of the candles, the soft glow flickering off the wooden walls and furniture. It actually looked more inviting than you thought it would. But then you remember the one time you visited his apartment in Portland. The large windows overlooking the city and river. The polished granite counters in the kitchen, the artwork that hung on the walls, and the bottle of wine he was there to pick up. All of it was worth more than anything you had ever seen before in your life. What were you thinking trying to pass this off as something special?

“I think it’s lovely.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. He’s patronizing you. Making the simple, little naiad believe she had done something magnificent when really he was laughing at you. Words are failing you and you silently stare at your feet until he nudges your shoulder playfully.

“You going to let me in? Because I really want to investigate something in there.”

You look around the space wondering what he could be talking about when he picks you up, your arms looping around his neck and your legs wrapping around his waist. You start to ask what it was he wanted to investigate when he takes the opportunity to kiss you. After a long day of not seeing each other, you easily give in to the familiar press of his lips against yours. You hear the door being kicked shut and feel yourself in freefall, stopped when you land on the futon.

“So,” you ask him from your sprawled position on the blankets, “what exactly did you want to investigate?”

He pulls his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. “I want to see if that futon can hold the both of us.”

You reach behind your back and untie the crocheted bikini top, tossing it on top of his discarded shirt. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare breasts and suddenly this rehabbed fishing hut doesn’t seem like such a silly secret after all.

#sean renard x you #sean renard x reader #sean renard x ofc #captain sean renard x you #captain sean renard x reader #captain sean renard x ofc #sean renard #captain sean renard #sean renard fic #captain sean renard fic #grimm fic

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starry-eyed-steve · 11 days

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Okay, so normally, I scroll past any ridiculous Steve takes, especially when it comes to death theories or theories about s5 in general. However, I just saw such a bad take that it actually made me angry, I need to make my own post. (Warning, this gets a bit petty towards the end)

Basically, the OP claimed Steve needs to die in s5 for the following reasons:

He has nothing going on in his life. He works a minimum wage job and is stuck in his hometown

He only has Robin and the kids, nothing else

It would not be satisfying if he lived

Steve can't grow more as a character because he already had too much development, so it would be better to end it there

He's only useful for protecting the group and nothing else

His death would be great for other characters because if he scarifices himself, the others are then able to go out in the world, live their lives, and do great things

Okay, that's a lot to unpack here, and I'm kinda speechless people really have such a low opinion about him.

First of all, saying Steve has nothing going on because he works a minimum wage job and doesn't have a concrete plan for the future is such a weird thing to say. He has a job, and even if it's not the best paid one, he still has an income. It's not like he's has nothing to do after he graduated (which he did the first time). If you think Steve needs to have it all figured out by 19 in order to be allowed to live, kindly fuck off. Almost no character has a concrete plan for the future. We never see Robin talk about her plans as well. Besides Nancy wanting to go to Emerson, we don't really know anything about the other characters' plans. The idea that minimum wage jobs are considered as something not worth pursuing or that your life must suck if you have them reeks of privilege. Not everyone can or wants to get a college degree. The people who work in customer service or have manual labor jobs are very valuable members of society, and to imply just because Steve has a minimum wage job working at a video store, so he better dies, is a horrible take. But also again, he is 19 (!!!) and should be allowed to have opportunities to figure out his plans for the future. Plus, he explicitly told us his end goal, he wants a loving partner and kids, and that's reason enough to keep going. (Even if he wouldn't have this goal or plan, he deserves time to figure things out, seeing as he lived his life in survival mode for the past 4 years.)

I also really don't get the second point. What is wrong about Steve having a real friend and a group of people he cares about? Shouldn't that be reason enough for him to keep living? Shouldn't having friends who you care about and who care about you automatically count as something that is enough. Besides, again, he also has a job, likes to go on dates, and it's implied he's still into sports.

The other characters also have each other. They hang out all the time to play their dnd games. Jonathan only has one friend (who now isn't even in the show anymore) and a gf. Nancy barely has any friends as well, besides her bf, who wants to slow mo break up with her. Should they die because they only have like 2 people they are close with? Or is it different because they want to go to college and do well in school, which is the only good purpose characters are allowed to have in order to be deemed worthy of living?

Imo it wouldn't be satisfying if Steve would die after everything he has been through. The show beats him to a pulp every season. He was tortured, maimed, and he sacrificed already so much for the group. He has the most physical trauma, besides Hopper. Even if the show doesn't address it, it's still there. (I hate it sm, but also I blame mostly on limited time that almost no character gets to explore their trauma.) It would be such a disservice to his character if he went through all of that for nothing. What kinda message is that? Killing off the character who is the most hopeful despite everything he went through is not satisfying. None of the main characters' deaths would feel satisfying after going through the horrors like that. (Besides Murray because fuck him)

If you think a character or person can only grow so much until they reach some arbitrary point where they are the perfect version of themselves, you're pretty naive. Nobody stops growing. Even if someone goes through growth, you don't stop your whole life. Maybe start rooting for an arc for Steve, where he gets even better. Where he gets to figure things out, where he becomes a better version of himself. You wouldn't say this to any other character. Just because his growth arc was more noticeable doesn't mean all your other faves didn't grow. Do you want them to stop living because they made choices to be a better person?

You're really underestimating Steve's relationship to the group if you think he's nothing more than a punching bag to them. How can you watch the show and really think this. He's Robins best friend, he helps her grow and be comfortable. He's Dustin's older brother figure. He gives him comfort, and he will most likely help him in s5 with his grief over Eddie. Even with Max, he functions as a brother figure, especially in contrast to her stepbrother. Yes, his primary role in the group is fighter and protector, but he is more than that. He's a friend and important to so many characters.

I think the last point was the thing that made me angry the most. All those other takes I've seen time and time again, but this last one is just disgusting. First of all again to imply that Steve can't do great things because he doesn't have a career plan at 19, which is just gross. And then if you also think the other characters would be so appreciative of this as if they don't give a fuck about Steve. Like Robin and Dustin would be devastated, how much of his death would affect them and their plans to do amazing things? They would be severely depressed and untreated (lets be real mental health issues were not taken super seriously up until recently) they will live with those impacts for the rest of their lives. Trust me I know how terrible depression is and how it fucks with your life plans. Maybe some characters who are not super close to him might use his death for motivation and to achieve those "great" things. But for most parts, his death would have a negative influence on them, on top of the trauma they already endured. If you think his death would only benefit the group, you're underestimating his impact on people. Like Dustin already has a hard time getting over Eddie, Robin would lose the only person who completely understands her, Max would lose another brother figure and a chance to bond with him more. Nancy would lose yet another person who was close to her. How many people should she lose until she snaps completely? But again, it's the implication that Steve's life is worthless because he doesn't go to college or has a shitty job or only has a few friends, that gets me. His life is worth less than other characters' lives because they seemingly have things figured out because they are (book) smarter than him. And btw Steve has a dream for the future, he wants a family and peace, he wants to be a better parent than his own parents were, and if you think that's meaningless or less great, then fuck you!

With those points and logic, Jonathan should also be a contender for character death in s5 as well. He doesn't have a job, he gets high with his only friend who won't be there in s5, he didn't apply for his dream university, he's about to break up with his gf. Jonathan only has his family and barely any growth over the seasons. He is a very stale character. In other words, according to those points made by OP, he has nothing going on and should sacrifice his life for the group as some form of character development.

Or Robin should also die in s5 according to those points. After all, all she has going on for her is a minimum wage job she works with her best friend, school, and a so far miserable love life. We don't know any of her future plans so fuck her I guess. She better sacrifice herself for the group. Or is she allowed to live because she's smarter than Steve (which is a pretty ableist thing to say) and gets to embark on a romantic journey next season?

To sum it up, stop saying Steve has to die because you think his life is meaningless because he's a teenager who hasn't things figured out. Stop saying shit along the lines that Steve isn't smart enough to get to have a life. Stop implying that intelligence is the most valuable thing a person can have and anyone who might lack it is deemed as less worthy of living. Stop saying Steve can't do amazing things if he doesn't go to college and therefore shouldn't be allowed to live. And stop deeming Steve's dream of a family as less meaningful (or meaningless) than academic/career successes. He deserves to live like every other character in the show.

#i'm sorry for being so angry and petty about this #i just can't stand those takes anymore #just say you hate steve and go #and maybe stop putting that shit in the tags and disguise it as s5 speculation #sandra says stuff #if anyone has thoughts about it i'm happy to discuss it with you #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things steve #stranger things discussion

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pinselwurm · 10 months

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at my gf’s request, i’m putting my Deadloch Killer Manifesto out there into the world just so i’ll stop giving her impromptu tedtalks about it in our kitchen. and so i can say “told u so.” written after episode 6 of 8 has aired. i came to my conclusion after watching episode 5, then turning around and rewatching all 5 episodes again to confirm. episode 6 then further confirmed by hitting me in the face with the story’s theme with no subtlety.

deadloch is a good show, with good writing, and good writing leaves breadcrumbs. not necessarily clue breadcrumbs, but theme and style breadcrumbs. pulling any ol’ person out at the end as the murderer is shitty, you’ve got to make it a satisfying realization.

so to start with, other than murder, what is our story actually about?

obviously major spoilers and the potential to ruin your viewing experience by taking away your own “aha” moment when IF i am correct:

what is deadloch about? certainly social strife, all the (misogyny, classism, racism, homophobia, colonialism) -isms that make people hate and resent each other, but the reason these characters are so interesting put together in the small town is because they are each two people at once, the person they were and the person they are or are in the process of becoming. they are haunted by the shadows of their former selves in deadloch, a town too small to properly hide in.

if you remember the very, very first seconds of the pilot we see a sign on a road at dawn: Deadloch. Population 2406. Home of the Winter Feastival. Reinvent Yourself.

REINVENT YOURSELF. The key to the entire story right at the start.

the dynasty women of deadloch who reinvented themselves are all the big players in town, the successful residents. margaret reinvented herself as a business woman and artisan after her husband’s death freed her from just being a wealthy wife going along with his plans. skye reinvented herself by escaping deadloch, being out as a lesbian, and gaining culinary skills that made her valuable to blossoming business in deadloch. vic started her bakery after her husband’s death, no longer just a publican’s wife, she’s got her own business. mayor rahme, clearly an overachiever, decided being a doctor wasn’t enough so she’s run for office and spearheaded local development herself. cath retrained from a lawyer to vet. dulcie nuked her career to get over her cheating past. dulcie is now in the process of reinventing herself again as the woman who needs to be a leader and can’t deny she’s not satisfied anymore. abby redirected her life to suit her terrible boyfriend and is now seeing that she’s worth more. eddie is becoming another person, letting herself let go of her own anger at herself. fuck, even ray pies reinvented himself from try-hard to sincere.

most of the deadloch men, however, are not reinventing themselves even a little bit. no improvement, just endless bitterness at the women who are surpassing them. no class betrayal or individualism from the boy’s club.

so who among our leading suspect ladies did not explicitly reinvent herself onscreen or is not in the process of doing so?

sharelle and vanessa

sharelle is immediately discounted because, quite simply, she can’t be fucked to do much of anything that she doesn’t have to do to survive, much less dramatic murder. she’s a stressed, low-wage mom with little support system and she’s not amused by the theatrics of everyone else.

that leaves vanessa, who the story made you discount immediately as an air-headed idiot.

vanessa, dismissed by the police as a mess too dumb to pull off the murders.

vanessa, who’s been completely unsupervised and free to do as she pleases since trent died.

vanessa, who’s been present for almost every body discovery with her hysterical screaming.

vanessa, who’s been with all recent victims the nights before their deaths.

vanessa, who lied about the tuna mornay.

vanessa, who’s inserted herself in the narrative again and again.

vanessa, who LOVES a big dramatic moment and being the center of attention.

vanessa, a good christian woman.

vanessa, who i bet anything, as a good deadloch dynasty girl, knows the tides and boats and clearly has the physical strength to move bodies.

vanessa, trapped as her high school beauty queen self forever to the other residents of deadloch.

vanessa, not truly accepted by the boy’s club, not given recognition by her female peers.

vanessa, repressed and full of rage.

no job, no real identity, no accomplishments.

god, she must have been just dying to self-actualize. reinvent herself. take control, prove she’s smart and sneaky and powerful. serial killers want everyone to know how smart they are, don’t they?

if you’d spent decades with the boy’s club, playing along, listening to what they said to you, you’d cut out their tongues too. she has plenty motive.

she’s lived for decades as the good feminine girl gravitating to “strong” masculine men. but she’s got a goddess complex and takes out men who break the contract, ruin the fucked-up gender role dance with their boorishness. punishes men who fail to give her what she wants from them (they never will).

i said earlier that i loved this show because only lesbians could write something that appealed to fellow lesbians so much. “dumb” small town beauty queen snaps and murders all the men that have been disgusting to her, casting final judgement on them, reinvents herself as a goddess of death? fuck, i’d write that story myself.

what did eddie say in the first episode? “you obviously need a refresher in homicide, mate, it’s always the family.”

deadloch’s misogynistic pressure cooker created a monster, and that monster is nessie.

(now, there could be a ladies gang doing murders but i think it’s going to play out like this: margaret is doing something stupid and racist for the sake of her money and land but she definitely not a team player so she’s out of any potential murder club. for skye and vic: i think eddie was right in the beginning, there’s a drug ring in deadloch....run by vic and skye. but they’re not murdering. nobody else is doing crime. yet.)

#deadloch

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bookishjules · 4 months

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Hi Jules,

Saw your post about RWBY. I have seen up through V8. PLEASE tell me all your hot takes. (If they’re anything like your sohae analyses then they’re going to be immaculate). <3

omg welcome to the list of followers i know watch rwby!! (it's a small list, but it's also one of my favorites hehe) idk that i have any esp hot takes?? but i'd love to talk about something that's been on my mind a lot recently..?

that thing is the schnee family... i personally am a huge sucker for the mechanics and evolution of family dynamics and how each individual functions within and outside of it. and aside from the belladonnas, whose family web has a third of individual relationships as the schnees, weiss's family is really the only one we get the privy of seeing in totality?? which i think is really interesting considering they are also the most public family of any of our mcs--even pyrrha, who was more known for her own name than her family's.. but i digress.

so much of the character of the schnee family really is based around that public persona, the facade they each present to the world. while we aren't very familiar with the former heads of the family, or of the sdc, i'm still inclined to believe a lot of this attitude was brought to the family by jacques, who has been acting since day one. he acted like he was in love. he donned the schnee name. he dyed his hair white. he swept willow aside, took her family's legacy from her, and then spent the rest of his life pretending like he deserved to be where he was and manipulating people into playing along. and of course behind every facade is something worth hiding. for jacques i think there was a lot of insecurity and fear there--youthful desperation that he was never quite able to move past because of his choice to take the cheater's way to the top.

willow, on the other hand, seems to move through life with a lot more vulnerability--loving jacques. loving their children. i'm sure there's probably an amount of safety and security growing up as a schnee heiress that resulted in her never having to form that shell that jacques did, but that's exactly why he was able to get into the power position in their relationship, and making it so she just gave up when jacques showed his cards to her, bc she didn't have anything up her sleeves.

and i think its really interesting to consider the kids growing up in this climate.. each of them learning in their own ways what parts of themselves to control and diminish vs. which strengths were valuable to play to. even with both winter and weiss stepping out from their father's control, the effects of their upbringing still follows them. they saw the powerless position their mom was reduced to because she didn't demand respect the way their father did, she didn't walk into a room with the air of the most important person in it, at least not within the confines of their family--because why would she? meanwhile, jacques, who viewed their relationship as nothing more than a stepping stool, a business transaction, would have maintained that facade and that attitude no matter how intimate the setting. and of course both girls would notice and internalize that at a young age. we see it in weiss, especially during the beacon arc. and even winter's choice to become a soldier, and then her ability to move herself up to the top of ironwood's ranks... they wanted to escape the pressure of their father's thumb, but they just carried his lessons with them, adapting them to their own lives. school and the army. and then that's something they need to unlearn. or rather.. they need to learn to tap into the heart they inherited from their mom as well, to fight against the fear of weakness and collapse that they associate with softness. it's in much of weiss's arc throughout the series, and we see it in winter as well as we reach the end of the 8th volume and she's struggling between her personal beliefs and ironwood's as he continues to devolve. without the rules and control that ironwood brought, winter is then forced to tap into her heart.

whitley on the other hand... whitley fascinates me. since he was younger than both his sisters, he would have had less time to see their mom as her genuine self before she lost herself to depression, paranoia, and alcoholism. for whitley, the only option was to be like his father, which only makes it harder for him to see the distinction between who he is and the controlled front he presents to others. his relationship with weiss, his small bits of character development we've seen so far, are so important to me, because it really shows the possibility for all three of these kids to grow beyond the trauma that perpetuated within the walls of their icy mansion. even down to the one who suffered the worst of it all by himself. willow once told weiss not to forget about her brother, so i refuse to stop projecting hope in his direction.

#sorry that was probably so much longer than you wanted. their family just makes my brain go brrrr #the way i could probably write almost as long a post about each of the kids too sadkhfjls #your username-icon combo is incredible btw. i get such a kick out of it every time i see you in my notes hehe #<33 #asks #rwby #weiss schnee #winter schnee #whitley schnee #willow schnee #jacques schnee

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miss-celestia13 · 9 months

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Devil in Paradise

Dark!Richy x Dark!OFMC One Shot

Aylins latest idea hasn’t turned out quite how she hoped. New identities. A cruise filled with the wealthy. Out in the middle of the ocean, Richy joins in with her scams, and she discovers it is possible for her to feel jealous…

These two have been waiting quite impatiently for me to come back to them. Expect plenty dark humor, more possessive smut, and a shift in their dynamic. Can be read alone without any knowledge of the fandom or pairing, but I have linked the last one below!

Flesh & Blood

People Aylin wants to kill or maim

1- The entire world. But especially the person who invented cruise ships. If they were already dead, she'd dig them up and kill them again just to please herself. She wanted to destroy it all. It all existed to piss her off. If she weren’t already living in a hell realm, she’d set it all on fire. Richy was already suffering. She took much enjoyment from it and didn't feel the need to add to it yet.

Aylin

Fuck this ship. Fuck the sun. Fuck the heat. Fuck it all, burn it down, and burn the fucking ashes. Sticky, moody, and annoyed. She was sick of it. They had managed to board without any drama; she’d sourced them new identities and paid handsomely for the privilege. Richy was delighted by his. His new name gave him a little more freedom, even if it made her snort laugh every time she tried to say it. Flynn. She was not calling him that. Not a chance. His beard was still a point of great pride for him, and she giggled every time she caught him staring at his reflection on any shiny surface he passed. The red dye had faded to a dingy ginger shade due to the sun and the thirteen showers she took to get the dried blood off when they finally found accommodation for the night after that night in the alley.

Richy had joined her at one point, and they’d broken the flimsy shower screen, but it was worth the loss of their deposit. The diamond ring had been pawned for much less than its worth but still a hefty amount that funded this whole project. No more lives had been taken, but she was close. She was on the treadmill again and did not know how to get back off. It gnawed in her chest. Every annoyance another person caused her made it rear up, and she struggled to force it back down. They could find jobs, settle down and live happily ever after. But that wasn’t them. Too mundane and boring. They’d kill each other before the week was out. Instead, they had bounced around high-cost resorts and hotels. Making off with cash, jewelry, and other valuables from the rich folk while making their way to the port.

It was exciting, and they had slowly built a good chunk of savings. Now they were far from Duskwood, or any other land, Richy could take part, and he was foaming at the mouth as they got ready. They were dressed to the nines, and she kept stealing glances as he moved about and pretended he wasn’t ogling her as she toed on her best heels. She didn’t know why he bothered hiding it. Part of the normal act he'd worn in his old life that he couldn’t shake off, she supposed. But it was stupid. He spent more time inside her than out. It was during one particularly memorable night that she had her “best” idea yet. Richy had been snoring beside her as she tossed and turned and tried to devise a way to get them as far away as possible. A cruise ship! It had felt like a stroke of genius. Until she boarded the fucking thing.

A giant floating city. It sounded perfect to get lost in and cause mayhem. She had read something about wealthy widowed people living out their golden years on those massive ships, and she knew the pickings would be easy. She had haunted more than one rich person's funeral so she could convince their crying heirs to part with a chunk of their inheritance. It would have been like shooting pigs in a damn barrel. But then the sun was there, hanging in the sky, a giant ball of hell that made her skin sticky, her hair frizzy, and her fair skin would have been roasted if she wasn’t militant about protecting it. She had taken to giving it the middle finger every time she was outside during the day.

Richy had it worse. A landlubber through and through, he’d spent the first few days a sickly green color and had kept her up at night with his retching. She was not made to comfort, but she had brought him some crackers she’d pilfered from the maid's cart on her way back to their cabin one night. It was the same thing in her mind, but he hadn’t been as grateful as she thought he should, considering she could have brought him nothing. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she leaned into the mirror and admired herself, painted her mouth red, and turned to a suited and booted Richy.

He scrubbed up well, too well, a voice whispered as he fiddled with his tie and met her wandering eye as she looked him up and down. The suit had been her last demand before they boarded this teeming beast of a boat, and he'd bitched about it the whole time, but he was smirking now, and she almost wanted to stay in. Then he opened his mouth, and she rolled her eyes, the notion soon disappearing.

“Are you done yet? We're late.”

Leveling him with a glare, she said, “We're only late when they're dead. You go first. They'll think we're together if we arrive as one.”

He frowned, looking uneasy now, “How do I know who to choose?”

“You find the one that tracks your every movement. You'll feel it. It's like a brand on your neck. Make yourself noticeable but not too much, or you'll be remembered. You exist only for tonight. Tomorrow you will be someone else.”

He looked ready to argue, but his jaw clenched, and he nodded before striding to and out of their suite door. She decided to linger behind for a little while, hoping she'd have to rescue him when she arrived, but as she entered the glittering ballroom, she saw that he was doing fine. Women of varying ages and degrees of plastic surgery surrounded him. She idly wondered how they didn't melt during the day when the sun seemed determined to flay the skin from her bones. Richy held court in the center, multiple drinks in front of him as their eyes met, and she gave a single nod as she surveyed the room for her own mark.

Casting her mental fishing line wide, she waved down a waiter passing by with a tray of champagne, snagging two glasses. She downed one and left it on an empty table as she sipped the other. After two turns of the massive space, she felt a tug on her line, a scalding stroke down her neck as she turned and saw the fiftysomething suave silver fox toasting his glass at her. She had hoped for someone closer to Death's sweet embrace, but as she didn't plan to do anything other than flatter and pander to his ego, she gave him a demure smile. Turning her eyes to the floor as he approached, thinking of the many ways she could torture Richy later to force a blush to her cheeks and put on her best impression of an innocent virgin as the man greeted her.

“I haven't seen you around. I would have remembered you if I had.” He grinned, teeth so white they should be used in toothpaste commercials and so perfect it was almost unnerving.

“I keep to myself mostly.” She hedged, hiding her coy smile in her champagne as he edged closer, and she could feel Richy watching them.

“I'm Darren. Care to tell me yours?” His voice had that lilt to it, the one that spoke of a life of excess and having everything handed to him.

“Lilith, don't ask. My parents thought it was unique.” She giggled, hating the sound and glancing over at Richy to avoid Darren's observant eyes.

He had his arm around one of the younger women. Bottle blond hair, tits defying gravity as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. He met her gaze, seeing something in her expression that made him smile slowly and move closer to the blond. She clutched her glass and looked away, hoping she wouldn't shatter it as Darren told her he loved her name and invited her to drink with him. She nodded, taking his arm and letting him lead her to his table. Perching daintily on her chair, she smiled when he brought them drinks, and she noted his was premium while hers was the free champagne being handed out like water. She hated when the rich were cheap. Still, she thanked him with wide eyes and feigned interest as he told her how he'd ended up on the cruise.

Her focus kept returning to Richy. Basking in the adoration of horny, husbandless women with too much money and insufficient brain cells to keep hold of it. It sickened her, and she didn't know why. It wasn't until she caught him sneering at her as she'd reached out to lay what she hoped was a comforting hand on Darren's arm and squeezed, something green flashing in his eyes. She wanted to hit him for making her feel something as sickeningly human as jealousy. Redirecting her energy, she pointedly ignored the anger pouring from Richy as Darren leaned into her personal space and tucked her hair behind her ear. Another shy smile, looking away from his piercing grey eyes as she acted the timid young lady.

The silver fox's scent was as rich as his wallet, but she was glad when he moved back, earning some points in her mind as he sensed her reluctance and did not push her. They chatted about shit she had no interest in, and didn't remember a word the man said seconds after it left his mouth. He left to use the bathroom, and she watched him until he vanished, letting out a long breath as her gaze returned to Richy's table only to find it empty. He wasn't on the dancefloor or at the bar, and he didn't leave the bathroom even after Darren had come out and gone to the bar. Sinking the last of her champagne, she huffed and stood, storming out of the room while Darren still had his back turned. If she had to search this entire ship to hunt that bastard down, she would string him over the fucking balcony.

***

Thankfully, she didn't have to go that far and found him in the first place she checked. And she was attacked the second she walked in the door. He was pacing barefoot as she entered, spinning to her as she locked the door. Her heart was already racing, the promising thrill of a good fight hung in the air, and her skin crackled with it, blood heating at the blackness overtaking his eyes. He’d tossed his jacket and tie on the floor and she could tell he’d been pulling at his collar to loosen it while he waited for her.

“What the fuck were you doing in there?” He demanded, hands flying up and dropping back to his side with a loud smack as she kicked her shoes off and enjoyed the cool floor on her sore feet.

“Nothing that you weren't doing, Richy. Don't fucking start. Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the way she was looking at you! Touching you!” She spat, teeth bared, and fists clenched as they circled each other.

Her mind flashed back to that first time back in Duskwood. The fury and uncertainty as they sniffed each other out before giving into the need to claim and tear and break. Her blood was singing, she wanted to pour it out and paint the world red, so it matched the fury riding her. Richy’s response didn’t ease her any.

“Now you know how it felt when I was locked inside a hotel room while you were off gallivanting with other men!”

“How many times?! I wasn’t gallivanting. I never once touched or thought about touching them! You were lapping it up!”

“Why do you care? I thought you didn’t do labels.” He reminded her, and she regretted the day she ever met him.

Scowling, hands itching to hit him, she turned on her heel, aiming for the door and intending to get black-out drunk on free booze and fuck the first man to smile her way when he grabbed her by the back of her neck and hauled her against him. She struggled, clawing and scratching his arms as they banded around her and held her trapped. He was chuckling in her ear, she could feel how turned on he was, and her inner voice was crooning that she got just what she wanted, but she ignored it. She wanted to fight.

“Let me go, Richy.” She clipped as he avoided her attempt to stomp on his bare foot.

“Not until you tell me why you were really upset.” He taunted, voice like gravel. It was so harsh, and she tried to ignore the rush of wet heat soaking her underwear, but it was nigh on impossible as Richy ground his erection into her ass.

They were volatile and explosive, but that’s how she liked it, and even now, her need to be well and truly fucked had overridden all her rage; in truth, her fury only heightened it.

“The day you came with me, you became mine. I don’t like people touching my things without my permission!” She snarled as he dragged her over to their rumpled bed.

“Good. Because you’re mine, I don’t like watching you fawn over those men any more than you do.”

His arms were unwound, but she didn’t bolt like she’d planned. She didn’t like most people, hated them actually, but she could tolerate Richy, and she was easy around him. He always knew what she needed. Her heart rate climbed as his hands came around, and one gripped and twisted her chin, the other dug into her hip as he lowered his head to kiss her. Her instinct was to lean away. It felt too intimate somehow. Still, she fought the urge and let him. It felt more like an argument as he breached her mouth and swept inside. She could only match every stroke of his tongue. It was awkward, and she needed some control back as heat and want spiraled through her so intensely she felt out of her mind as she turned in his hold to face him.

His eyes were black as night, thrilling her before she closed hers again and grabbed hold of his shirt, tugging him back down and catching his lips in hers. Pressing in, teeth biting at his lips and smiling into the kiss as he took the hint. His hand slid into her hair, a sharp tug and pain flickered over her scalp, and she moaned as she felt her wetness slide down her inner thighs. He did it again, smirking as she trembled, and she had almost forgotten why she was angry with him. But then she smelt it. The overly sweet perfume that did not belong to her clung to his clothes, and her fury flared once more.

Breaking the kiss, she glared up at him and stabbed a finger into his chest as she ground out the words, “I can smell her on you. How close was she?”

He rolled his eyes, and she didn’t even think; she lifted her hand, intending to slap him, but he caught it as it swung for his face and took hold of her other before she could attempt it again. Turning her around again, moving so fast he had her wrists in his firm grip behind her back before her brain realized what was happening. The fine bones bent and twisted as he shoved a knee between her legs and bent her over the bed.

“Not this close. You smell like a different man every night, and I’m supposed to accept that, Aylin. You can do the same.”

Head shaking, arms straining as she tried to break out of his hold, huffing and giving in when he only held her tighter, and she sensed him drop to his knees behind her. She could see him between her split thighs, free hand eagerly reaching up her dress, and her underwear was pulled down to pool around her ankles. She was panting as she stepped out of them, blood racing in her veins as his fingers dipped into her dripping folds and made even more mess as he spread it around. Her teeth were buried in her bottom lip as he teased her with featherlight grazes over her clit, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a moan or whimper even as her legs shook and another flood of essence soaked his busy hand.

When he rose to his feet, the burn in her core became intolerable, and she was close to begging when he suggested something she usually refused.

“I want to bind your hands before I fuck you.” He muttered as he unzipped her dress and shoved it down her arms, leaving her completely bare while he was still fully clothed.

The idea of being under his control did not frighten her the way it had in the past. He had allowed her her way many times and had never complained. Black excitement filtered through her as she loosed a breath and nodded her consent, shifting on her feet as the emptiness inside her demanded relief. She couldn’t see him, but she felt his surprise in the loosening of his hand around her wrists. He let her go, stepping away, but she didn’t look as she straightened and flexed her hands as he shed his clothes. Her pulse jumped in her neck when his hands settled on her shoulders, whirling her around and giving her a biting kiss she felt in her curled toes before she was shoved hard. Landing on her back, arching a brow at him as he smirked down at her.

Oh, thank fuck, she thought he’d lost the rage, but it was there, in his eyes, flickering like a shadow flame as she arched and raised her hands above her head, crossing them at the wrist as he licked his lips. They were two monsters with the same damn hunger, and she did not have a lick of shame about it as he crawled over her, his belt in hand. She closed her eyes at the feel of the leather looping around her wrists, the metallic click on the buckle as he pulled it so taut her fingers soon tingled and the sound echoed like a gunshot in her lusty mind. There was nothing for him to tie her to. His growled warning made her press her thighs together as he moved down her body.

“Keep them there, or I’ll stop and leave you here until you learn.” Her thighs were wrenched apart when she chuckled and gave him a nod of agreement.

Testing her shackles, she found no give, and her heart was in her throat as she waited for his next move. Trust. Did she have it for him? She wasn’t entirely sure, but she trusted he wanted her more than he wanted to harm her and forced herself to go loose and pliant at the touch of his fingers as he parted her folds. His mouth was on her a second later, tongue gliding up the seam of her, hands pinning her thighs to the bed. Two fingers sank inside her, and he repeated the move, making her shake her head and sob as he drank her down, humming so low in his throat it vibrated through her. The rough scrape of his beard on her tender flesh drove her to distraction as he worked on her. Her hands grasped at nothing, the urge to bring them down and grab his head almost impossible to ignore as he crooked his fingers and pulled as she cried out at the flick of his hot tongue on her clit.

Blunt nails cut into her thighs as he consumed her relentlessly. Her throaty cries turned to warbling moans as he alternated between quick darts of his tongue and languid licks of her essence, his fingers moving within her and taking the edge off of the ache as her body writhed under him. He was determined to make her whine his name, lapping at her clit as her hands fisted uselessly, and she yearned to pull his hair. Tilting her hips, trying to stop him from moving away from where she needed him, the lewd sound of his devouring and the deep groans spilling from him made it impossible to hold her orgasm back.

Keening too loudly, his mouth sealed over her clit, sucking her into his mouth whole as his fingers teased her inner walls with delicious friction. He gave her no mercy as she shivered and sobbed, his tongue swirling over that swollen bundle of nerves incessantly until she tensed and jerked so violently he chuckled. Her trembling thighs, his skilled tongue, and the fingers in her cunt were a sweet torture as she clenched her teeth and panted through them, cries going wild as release suddenly swelled and crashed through her so hard she curled in on herself. She was sobbing, body twitching and spasming as the flutter of his tongue on her clit became too much to bear, refusing to back away as heat and sweat spread over her skin. He did not stop until she said, ‘Please.’

Aftershocks zinged through her muscles as she cracked an eye open to watch him sit back on his haunches, beard soaked and glistening before he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, making her inner walls clench on nothing. He did not give her respite, and she was not thinking about anything as the fire in her veins turned her blood to steam. Her legs were arranged to suit him, laid against his shoulders as he grabbed her hips and dragged her closer, impaling her on his thick length. In one effortless slide, he was buried so deep she couldn’t draw a breath in. Her bound hands prickled and burned as he bent her body back. Her muscles already burning, his cock filling her up and banishing the ache.

A low thrumming began under her skin as he moved, a tinge of pain, cunt gripping his cock tight and turning his grip on her hip punishing. He touched her as if he owned her, eyes never leaving her face as she absorbed his brutal thrusts, bound hands pressed to her chest in a mockery of prayer. Deep darts of his hips, circling and retreating to plunge back inside her, all of it sent pleasure sparkling through her. Her anger simmered in the back of her mind, growing quieter with every drag of his cock against her slick walls and the black look in his eyes. There was always a thread of hate between them, never more obvious than when they fucked, and usually, she did the possessing. It was her turn to be possessed, and it didn’t bother her the way she thought it would.

In the game they were playing, she wasn’t sure who was the slayer and who was the slayed as he slid free of her cunt. He ignored her indignant snarl as he ordered her to get on her knees. Her hackles lifted at the dominance in his tone. A scalding retort tried to sneak free of her teeth, darkness crossed his eyes, and she got just what she wanted. She was grabbed and flipped so fast she couldn’t track it. Ass in the air, face buried in the pillows, he shoved her legs apart and pushed down on her back to make her arch deeper, turning her head so her fierce cry as he pushed inside her could be heard by anyone walking past their cabin door.

Her arms strained, hands cramping and making her balance feel wrong with them trapped under her as he brought his hand down on her ass so hard she jolted. Rocking back into his thrusts, wetness out of control as he hit her again, and she was lost in sensation as he fucked her. Tensing herself, delighting in the pain and pleasure of being thoroughly invaded, she stopped caring that he had all the control. Her skin flared with goosebumps, her stomach tensing at the vicious snap of his hips; she let herself enjoy it. It was addicting, the desire and sense stealing pleasure. Each hit was the closest thing to heaven either would experience.

“You were made me for me, Aylin. Don’t ever forget that.” He muttered, pounding into her mercilessly as she thrashed her head in denial.

Richy laughed, the sound like black magic to her crazed mind as his hand slid around her hip and travelled over her stomach to dip into her folds and tease her clit.

“Don’t fight it. You clearly like it.” He baited her, still shaking her head despite the intense pressure building within her and the wetness seeping from her, doing nothing to convince him otherwise.

“Fuck you.” She managed, knowing it was futile, as her cunt clamped down on his cock.

“You will. Your turn first.” He returned, picking up his pace, fingers ruthless in rubbing that bundle of nerves.

Her muscles were tied in knots as the first waves rippled from her center and grew so potent she could do nothing but wail as he crowed his victory. It seized her like a vice, stealing her breath as darkness crept into the edges of her vision. She quaked under the onslaught, flame and its overwhelming heat flooding her system as he fucked her, groaning with every flutter of her cunt around his cock. She slammed her eyes shut, her mind fracturing into cracks and jagged lines, her distressed whimpers barely audible over the rush of blood in her ears as Richy slammed home one last time with a smile in his voice as he cursed her name.

His body blanketed hers as he slumped over her and pushed her down into the mattress, neither capable of speaking for a long while. The power had shifted, she could feel it as his heart thudded against her back, and hers found it’s usual rhythm. He was coming into his own now he was free of the chains of humanity and could be himself with someone that wouldn’t judge his darkest fantasies. She wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. In the past, it had always meant her doom and suffering. Giving someone power over her had never ended well, and she couldn’t see how this would be any different.

Still, when he rolled off her, neither had enough shame to feel awkward as he dragged her up by her hands and clumsily untied her. She rubbed at her red wrists, rolling her shoulders as he padded through to the bathroom, and she sighed when the door closed. Shaking her head, staring blindly at her own reflection in the night dark windows, Aylin decided to hell with it all. If she went down in flames because of him, she at least enjoyed herself first and hadn’t had to hide who she was in her last days. Many didn’t get that chance, and she was already tired of thinking about it. The bed sheets were damp on her side, so she took Richy’s side instead. He called her a bitch when he finally crawled into bed, and she was smirking, her back to him as she succumbed to the lure of sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I was laughing at myself the whole time I wrote it because it's just ridiculous 😂 See you later! ❤️

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literaetures · 4 months

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it’s been such a busy year!! but i wanted to write out some accomplishments just as a reminder to myself about some good things that have happened between the mess

i cooked 3 new dinner recipes!! (very big for me as someone who doesn’t cook)

i baked banana bread for the first time from scratch!! (also massive for me as someone who only bakes boxed mixes)

i started doing yoga more regularly (at least once a week!! that’s been so good for the body and brain)

i’ve finished crochet projects (coasters, granny squares, more coasters)

i’ve tried writing fic again (just little blurbs that don’t see the light of day but it’s been nice to write out the little prompts i have in my head)

i had a really good class i taught this semester and they were so talkative and willing to share their ideas!!

i did three conferences this year for papers i wrote and presented them in panels of other super cool people with super cool papers

i’m becoming more comfortable with being alone with myself (not much!! but baby steps are still steps)

i’m getting more comfortable with driving and am starting to even enjoy it!! actively seeking it out!! that’s never happened before!!

i’m learning to understand my own value and recognize that my sense of self-worth is wrong— that i’m more than my successes and failures just by living and trying new things and not limiting myself (again!! baby steps but steps forward)

and i’m learning that i am valuable and worthy of basic things (love, respect, objects, time, etc. a concept!! but we’re learning)

reframing things to have a positive mindset!! i’m not indecisive. i’m taking time trying to make a thoughtful and informed decision. i’m not a failure. i’m just trying something for the first time and learning to enjoy the process

i’m finding something that makes me smile each day!! at least one thing, every day, to share with a friend or savor a moment for myself even if it’s as small as going for a little walk rather than immediately going from point A to point B (and not seeing that as a hassle!! it’s an unexpected adventure or a new routine to have!! reframing things has been helpful)

journalling more!! oh my god i haven’t journaled regularly in a g e s but it’s been so nice to journal about some good things in my life or, if scary/bad/overwhelming things are happening, then taking some time to write out and tackle some of those stresses to make them more manageable

not! suffering! in! silence! (this is still a wip but!! we’re learning to just. talk to people! reach out! i’m still bad at starting and maintaining conversations bc i get overwhelmed easily, but im trying to be better about trusting that people know their boundaries and limits and what they have the time/energy/capacity to handle in that moment or later on. aka!! unlearning this idea that i’m a burden to everyone and everything around me. i’m just me!! and people care about me. and i need to trust that this is true. and learn to believe it)

eating fruit regularly— this sounds silly but holy shit. eating at least one fruit a day?? life changing

i started therapy!! and then fell off but that was still big!! and a new experience for me

the power of a candle— the power of a little bright light and good smell in the space around you?? immense

i started a little tradition where i get new piercings on my birthday to celebrate the day and we’re feeling!! so much more comfortable in our own skin these days

and maybe there’s more but!! these have been really big and important moments for me that i want to remember having— and maybe remind myself of for a rainy day

there’s good in this world and i hope that— if anyone is reading this— that you also are experiencing some good things in your life or learning to see things as a good and valuable and important, too!!

#personal #it’s been a million years i know!!#i miss it here!!#but i hope you’re all doing well and having a wonderful day always!!#i just wanted to write this down for myself as a little list of what i’ve done #that i’ve made some Real tangible and meaningful moves even if it’s slow going or easily forgettable

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zapreportsblog · 8 months

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↱ my mother : the successful business woman ↰

➘ summary : In this story we see how Izuku grows up in the hands of a successful business women, watch as his mother becomes his hero, the hardships they face as a family and how Izuku gains new friends and siblings to come

➘ a/n : there’s now a masterlist for this story

➘ Chapter 3: The Gift of Education

O N L Y T H E B E S T F O R I Z U K U :

Monday morning arrived, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in Izuku's life. It was time for him to embark on his educational journey, but instead of attending a regular school, his adoptive mother, (y/n), had arranged for the top homeschooling teachers to come to their home. The grand study room was prepared with everything he needed to learn and grow.

As the clock struck nine, the first teacher arrived, a renowned scholar with a kind demeanor. He greeted Izuku with a warm smile, and they delved into the world of mathematics, science, and literature. The lessons were engaging and tailored to Izuku's interests, making him feel eager to learn more.

Throughout the day, more teachers followed, each an expert in their respective fields. The history teacher spoke of legendary heroes and their feats, inspiring Izuku to dream even bigger. The art teacher nurtured his creativity, guiding him to express his thoughts through sketches and paintings. The hero studies teacher delved into the characteristics of true heroes, instilling valuable life lessons within him.

As the lessons concluded for the day, Izuku was filled with a sense of wonder. The knowledge he had gained felt like seeds planted in the garden of his mind, ready to bloom and flourish with every passing day.

In the afternoon, after his last lesson, Izuku found himself sitting with (y/n) in the living room, enjoying a cup of hot cocoa. He looked up at her, feeling a profound sense of gratitude in his heart.

"Mama, why do you do all these things for me?" he asked, his eyes brimming with curiosity. "You don't have to arrange for the top teachers to come to our house. You already do so much for me."

(Y/n) placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her eyes filled with warmth. "Izuku, you are my greatest treasure," she said softly. "You deserve the top educational experience because you are capable of achieving greatness. You have a heart of gold, and your dreams of becoming a hero are worth pursuing with the best guidance."

She smiled, and her words wrapped around him like a protective embrace. "You see, being a hero is not just about having powers; it's about having a strong mind and a compassionate heart. By giving you the best education, I hope to nurture those qualities in you."

Izuku was in awe of her wisdom and love. Her words resonated within him, reaffirming his belief in himself and his dreams. He had found not only a mother but also a mentor, someone who believed in him unconditionally.

"But mama," he said earnestly, "I'm not special like All Might or the other heroes."

(Y/n's smile never wavered as she gently cupped his face in her hands. "Izuku, you are special in your own unique way," she said. "You may not have a quirk, but your heart is a quirk all on its own. Your determination, your kindness, and your resilience are what make you extraordinary."

"You're right," he replied, his voice filled with determination. "I won't let not having a quirk stop me from becoming a hero. I'll work hard, just like you do for me every day."

(Y/n's eyes shimmered with pride as she hugged him tightly. "I know you will, my dear. And I'll be right here, cheering you on every step of the way."

From that moment on, Izuku's desire to become a hero burned even brighter. His mama's unwavering support and the gift of the best education filled him with determination to chase his dreams with all his heart.

As he prepared to face the challenges ahead, he knew that he was not alone. With his mama's love and guidance, he felt invincible. He was ready to take on the world and prove that heroes came in all shapes and sizes, and they could be born not only from powers but from love, courage, and the belief in oneself. And as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Izuku would grow, not only in knowledge and strength but also in the profound love he had for his mama, who had given him the greatest gift a child could ever receive—the gift of education and the belief that he could be a hero in his own right.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

As the afternoon sun painted the sky in hues of orange and gold, (y/n) decided to surprise Izuku with some quality time together outside of their usual routine. (Y/n) called the gym teacher, explaining that she'd be taking Izuku out for a treat, and the teacher happily agreed, looking forward to seeing them both the next day.

They stepped out of the house, hand in hand, ready for their little adventure. (Y/n) noticed that Izuku's eyes sparkled with excitement, and she couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

"Where are we going, mama?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

"It's a surprise, my little hero," (y/n) replied playfully. "But first, let's get some limited edition items of all your favorite heroes!"

Eagerly, they explored the stores, finding action figures, comic books, and posters featuring the heroes Izuku admired. He felt like he was in hero heaven, and his heart swelled with gratitude for his mama's thoughtful gesture.

However, as they were browsing, fate had an unexpected encounter in store for them. Among the aisles, Izuku spotted some familiar faces—his old classmates from before he was adopted. His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity.

His classmates, recognizing him, approached with smirks on their faces. "Well, well, if it isn't the quirkless loser," one of them taunted.

"Yeah, what are you doing here? You think buying all this stuff will make you a hero?" another jeered.

Izuku's insecurities resurfaced, and he found himself feeling small and inadequate. But before he could respond, (y/n) appeared behind him, her presence commanding and protective.

"Leave him alone," she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "You have no right to mock him or anyone else."

His classmates, intimidated by (y/n)'s stern expression, quickly retreated, muttering apologies as they scurried away.

Turning to face Izuku, (y/n) softened her gaze. "Izuku, don't let their words get to you," she said gently. "You are not defined by whether or not you have a quirk. You have the heart of a true hero, and that's what matters."

Izuku looked at her, tears welling in his eyes. "But mama, they kept saying I'm quirkless, and that makes me weak."

(Y/n) knelt down to his level, her eyes filled with love and understanding. "Guess what, Izuku," she said softly. "Mama doesn't have a quirk either. Do you think that makes me a loser?"

"No, mama," Izuku replied, shaking his head. "You're the bestest, most greatest mama in the world!"

"And that's how I feel about you, Izuku," she said, wiping away his tears. "You are the most courageous, determined, and kind-hearted boy I know, and I'm proud to call you my son."

With her words, Izuku's heart swelled with happiness, and he couldn't hold back the tears of joy any longer. He jumped into her arms, feeling safe and loved in her embrace.

They continued their day, going to get ice cream at his favorite parlor. As they sat together, enjoying their treats, Izuku felt a sense of warmth and belonging that he had never experienced before. With (y/n) by his side, he knew that he could overcome any challenge, and his dreams of becoming a hero felt more attainable than ever.

In the arms of his loving mama, Izuku knew that he was not alone in his journey. He had a true hero by his side, someone who saw his worth beyond any quirk or power. With her support, he knew he could be the hero he had always dreamed of—one who would save others not only with strength but with love and compassion. And as the sun set on that memorable day, Izuku felt like the luckiest boy in the world, grateful for the gift of a mama who had filled his life with love, guidance, and the belief that he was capable of being a hero in his own right.

#x reader #x reader series #my mother : the successful business woman series #my mother : the successful business woman masterlist #my mother : the successful business woman #bnha x reader #bnha izuku #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia masterlist

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