#the man is bored of life - of I can't get him the ine thing that excites him what is the point

[gildedmuse]

Friend: It's Mihawk's Birthday!!

Me: Oh no.

Me: I didn't even written him any Zoro based porn.

[vampyan]

Hello! Do you have any ideas for Yandere!reader x Shinjuro? Thank you so much.

shinjuro rengoku x yandere!reader hcs

✮ an ; i do >:) this got long my bad. i'm not used to writing for yandere!reader, but i hope i did ok! it's also relatively tame? def more soft yandere coded.

✮ cw ; shinjuro rengoku . yandere!fem!reader . stalking . possessiveness . obsessive behavior . manipulation . gaslighting . suggestive . dubcon in places . stylized lowercase .

✮ you met by chance, stumbling into one another in the market a few years after his wife's passing. shinjuro scarcely remembers the interaction, but you can recall it in vivid detail.

✮ what he was wearing. his drunken wobble. his warm body knocking into yours. his prickly stubble grazing your cheeks as you nearly topple over. his bulging biceps in your hands as you rush to steady the man. his molten golden-red gaze searing into yours, making your heart stutter and your brain give pause.

✮ he was quick to pull himself away from you, warning you to "watch where you're going." something in you changed that day, or maybe this is who you always were, but kept it buried. you hadn't spoken a word to him, only stared in amazement after him as he stumbled off, and yet his gravelly voice rung in your ears days after your encounter.

✮ you make sure to bump into him several more times after that, actively seeking out his flame-colored hair in crowds. you always played it off as a coincidence, but it was far from it.

✮ you follow him home, shadow him wherever he goes. just observing from a distance and memorizing his schedule. you have a few awkward run-ins with his sons whilst snooping around the premises of the rengoku estate, but both were too young at the time to suspect anything malicious of your uninvited visits.

✮ you gradually weaseled yourself into his life, insisting on walking him home, initiating conversation whenever possible, and listening to all his gripes and troubles he'd let slip in his drunken stupors.

✮ eventually, he grew less irritated by your presence, allowing himself to look forward to your company.

✮ soon you're staying for dinner a few nights out of the week, showing up with gifts for shinjuro and his sons, and shinjuro can't help but be surprised every time. it's been years since he's had a woman around, especially one so outwardly kind and caring towards him and his family.

✮ he's naturally suspicious of your intentions and more than a little skeptical of the flirtatious comments you throw his way.

✮ but when you don't disappear or grow bored of his attitude, he softens, becomes more compliant, and starts thanking you. the ecstatic glimmer in your eyes when he so much as acknowledges you makes his stomach flutter.

✮ his sons have taken to you like ducks to water, overeager to have a motherly presence in the home after so long. shinjuro gets this warm feeling in his chest when he finds you caring for them as if they were your own, looking all too domestic.

✮ shinjuro isn't dumb, he sees those longing looks you send his way. he notices all the little things you do for him, all the effort you put into maintaining your relationship. he admits he's made it hard for you intentionally, pushing you away whenever you got too close.

✮ but your persistence makes it all the more clear that you're interested in him, and he can't deny that your feelings are far from one-sided.

✮ you're kind- too kind, suspiciously kind. he realizes that, but he's a weak man, and you are a beautiful woman consistently making the first move. it was only a matter of time before he gave in, seeking you out for comfort instead of looking for it at the bottom of a bottle.

✮ your friendship quickly escalates into a clumsy romance. shinjuro is rusty, but you balance out his awkwardness with your burning passion. it's as if all your inhibitions disappeared the moment he indicated your feelings were reciprocated.

✮ you praise him for every little thing he does, and he's absolutely unequipped to handle all the attention.

✮ he's got a few years on you, but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest- in fact, he gets the feeling you like it. you can't go five minutes without complimenting him, in that poetic (and midly disturbing) way you always did. his looks, his voice, his taste in literature. you found it all so captivating, and shinjuro can't help but get flustered by how outspoken you are about it.

✮ you court for a while, move in together shortly after, settling further into domesticity within the span of a few months. a year passes by, and shinjuro is still left reeling from how truly happy he feels. he lashes out less, and when he does, you're always patient with him, never screaming back at him no matter how nasty he gets.

✮ it's a little unsettling how content you always look, even when he's being awful to you. it's as if you're simply happy to receive his attention. it only deepens his guilt when he sobers up again, pulling you aside to hold you and murmur his reluctant apologies. you shouldn't forgive him so quickly, he often tells you after you make up.

"i know you didn't mean it, dearest. please, don't worry yourself a moment more over it," you croon, stroking your fingers through his flaxen hair. "i'm not going anywhere."

✮ you're too good at putting his concerns to rest. he isn't proud to admit how easily he folds underneath your tenderness. he's all too aware of how reliant he's become on your affection, and he fears what would happen to him if you were to ever leave.

✮ you're not like his ruka, he realizes. you don't hold him accountable for anything, not for acting out, or being defiant, or rude. he's always 'just tired', or 'must be hungry', or 'having a bad day.' at first, he's grateful for your understanding nature until he puts two and two together that you don't take him seriously.

✮ not his emotions, his protestations, or his input. even as you begin to overstep more and more boundaries. insisting that you dress him, feed him, and even brush his teeth for him. you're insistent on not letting him raise a finger. any opposition on his end is veiwed as a tantrum and not to be concerned with.

✮ you pout and tsk when you catch him brushing his own hair or bathing himself, quickly taking over any tasks he attempts.

"i thought i told you i can do that for you, darling," you hum from the doorframe, startling him as he fumbles with his obi. you waltz into the room, sliding the shoji door shut with your foot and replacing his shaky hands with your own. his joints don't quite work the same after long years of wielding a sword and beheading demons, but he can surely dress himself. his pride demands he be self-sufficient, but you're always so convincing. your acts of service are appreiciated but... embarassing. he can't help but feel infantilized by your smothering behavior, but can never quite tell you no when you give him 'the eyes.' "i'm not a child, love," he grouches, rouge blooming across his cheeks as you tie his obi and straighten his kimono, smoothing over any wrinkles like a doting mother would. "i could've done that myself." "i don't want you to," you snap, your facade slipping for but a moment and his thick brows raise in surprise. your smile is quick to reappear, and you snake your arms around his waist- noting his increasing plumpness with delight. he was a bit scraggly when you first met, having cared more about drinking his sorrows than eating regular meals. but look at him now! healthy... and soft. "maybe i just want an excuse to touch you." you flutter your lashes at him and just like that he folds, lips parting as you pull him closer by the obi until your hips are flush. "j-just ask then. don't gotta baby me s'much. i'm a grown man," shinjuro stutters, his gold gaze falling to where your bodies meet. "do i have to ask to touch my husband? your body's mine to do with as i please, isn't it?" you asked with a smirk, your voice intentionally seductive as you knead his hips in your hands. your head tilts, entertained by the way he shivers. "well, i suppose not..." shinjuro rasps, his adam's apple bobbing as your lips find his throat. but you aren't satisfied yet, you want to hear him validate your claim over him. that ugly piece of you that you keep buried paces like a beast in a cage, gnawing at the bars, trying to claw its way out. your fingers tighten on his hips and you grip becomes bruising. "say you're mine," you demand in a near growl against his neck and his breath hitches, thick brows furrowing. he's helplessly aroused and slightly unsettled by the way you're handling him. "i... i'm yours. yours to use and to touch." he gulps, and you nearly moan in response, suckling a dark mark just below his ear. "hnn, yes. all mine."

✮ you're good at that too, making him forget why he was mad, or upset, or uncertain about your behavior. and when he asks you about it after the fact, you raise a brow, claiming you didn't remember the conversation.

"you must be sleepy, darling. perhaps you dreamed it?" you dismissed, continuing to chop vegetables and busy about the kitchen. and with shinjuro's tendency to get pass-out drunk, he can't help but doubt his convictions every time. you wouldn't steer him wrong, no... he must've dreamed it like you said. "yes... yes, perhaps you're right about that." you only smile at him over your shoulder, humming a cheerful tune as you make dinner for your perfect family.

✮ you know you're taking things too far. setting curfews, not letting him go out without you, smothering him like an overprotective parent would... but you just can't stop- can't control yourself. you ache for him so profoundly that being away from him is like torture. if anything ever happened to him, you'd never forgive yourself.

✮ you want him to need you like you need him. desire you half as much as you desire him. maybe what you feel for him is too messy and twisted to be love, and maybe your love is more like a festering sickness, but you can't let him go.

2024 © vampyan ; do not modify, translate, or repost my work onto any platform. reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated!

[jhilsara]

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Chapter 5

Life threatening events were not on her bucket list. In fact, MJ was content to mind her business and talk to pub patrons. She was happy to come in, pours some pints, make a cocktail, chat up the patrons and learn their stories, and then roll on home in the early morning hours. That was her routine every single day, she liked it that way. Her life wasn't supposed to be filled with crazy events and super villains. She was just a normal woman working in a small pub.

So why the hell does stuff just keep happening to her?

She’s been exhausted for the past two weeks, and it's not from any freak run ins with her local vigilante. To her surprise it's because of a single patron who started coming to the pub. Usually MJ is okay with the occasional drunkard. They always have at least one every other night.

MJ’s favorites are posted in small polaroid pictures behind the bar top that Andy has taken. The pub keeps a polaroid camera as a little gimmick for busy weekends. Andy will walk around to the tables and snap pictures of friends and couples. It’s just a cute extra thing they like to do, keeps patrons longer. The owner pays for the film and Andy likes talking to people. It’s a win-win. Especially the wall of shame, which has pictures of the unruly drunk bastards they’ve kicked out. It's her favorite photo section secretly, the faces they make when Andy points the flash at them is really entertaining. 

They have a new regular though and he drinks every night until her or Andy cuts him off. That's not uncommon, to have people come in and be cut off after an obscene amount of alcohol. It's not just the fact he's a heavy drinker... there's something unsettling about how he drinks that has starting to stress MJ out.

She can't put her finger on it, but it makes her stomach drop in dread every time she sees him. He drinks more than any patron they’ve seen before, but never gets unruly. He sits quietly, drinking beer after beer. His eyes following her, like a predator looking at their next meal. She hates interacting with him. It's his eyes, they're so... hollow.

The last time she handed him his tab he caressed her hand and she recoiled just as quickly. He gave her a slimy kind of smile that had her gritting her teeth. His eyes burning into her skin, making her itch and want to scream. She hasn’t served him tonight, but she feels him staring at her. She always feels his eyes following her, like a creepy portrait at night.

He genuinely scares her. Has her almost debating if she should just quite. She even tried to swap times with a coworker but he followed. He was there every time she was scheduled without fail. How he knew she was trying to change shifts made her even more unsettled. Making her skin prickle like she was being stabbed by tiny needles. 

She mentioned it to her manager but he just dismissed how she felt. Saying she was over reacting; the guy isn’t disruptive and he hasn’t actually done anything to her. All she could think was, ‘yet, he hadn’t done anything yet’.

She didn't bother trying to change shifts after that. She was ready to just leave the pub all together, but the pay was good. Too good to try and job hunt because of one man that creeped her out. 

She shakes herself out of her spiraling thoughts and tries to keep working. There was no use sitting there stewing on him, it would just terrify her. She wraps up her shift and goes in the back to clock out. Before she walks out though, she goes back to ask Andy a question about a show they were hosting the next night. She needed the contact information and Andy had taken the call. 

When she walks back out, she sees the guy is gone. Her gut is telling her it's wrong, he usually stays all night. Her face pales at the idea of walking out.

“Where did he go?” MJ asks pointing to his empty chair, her tone clipped. 

Andy shrugs nonchalantly, “He just closed out his tab. Why?”

MJ grows quiet and crosses her arms. “This is gonna sounds crazy, but something about him really freaks me out.”

Andy shakes her head. “No, not crazy. I don’t like how he looks at you. It’s fucking gross.” Andy frowns looking at her friend. It validates MJ's feelings and she sighs in mild relief. Someone else noticed. 

MJ leans on the back counter thinking, “Can I stay until you get off? I- I just have a bad feeling.” She asks looking at Andy with pleading eyes.

Andy nods her head, “Absolutely!" She replies reassuringly. "My boyfriends picking me up tonight and we can walk ya home or you can tag along with us. I’d hate for that guy to try and follow ya home.” She mutters bitterly making a disgusted face. 

MJ nods her head. “Thanks, I’m just gonna hang out in the office then. Maybe check the cameras.” She says pointing to the back.

MJ goes into the managers office, he wasn’t working tonight anyway, and she looks through his desktop to check the cameras. Her stomach was churning with uncertainty. 

Sure enough, the guy is creeping around the corner. He’s watching the back door. Suddenly a cold chill runs up her back. She jolts up and makes sure the back doors are locked. She quietly goes back into the office and curls in the chair, her body shaking. She takes a deep, nervous breath and just tries to not think about it.

There is no denying it, he definitely was waiting for her.

She shoves her face into her hands and tries to take some calming deep breathes. Her fingers dig into her hair and she holds it tightly. It doesn’t stop the panic rising in her chest. It burns in the back of her throat like bile and she squeezes her eyes shut.

With unsteady hands she shoots Hobie a text, asking if he could come pick her up. She doesn’t know if she can wait until Andy gets off. She looks back over to the cameras and the man isn't there anymore.

It should calm her down, she should be relieved, but it doesn’t. It's the opposite of reassuring... in fact it puts her on edge and she's more nervous than before.

Suddenly the back door handle starts to jiggle, almost as if someone’s trying to open it. She stares at the handle frozen in fear for what feels like forever. Her heart feels like it’s in her throat. 

Just as soon as the door handle shook, it ends. Leaving her alone in the silence.

She’s trembling and tries to calm herself down. He can’t get in.

He can’t get in. He can’t get in. He can’t get in. He can’t get in. He can’t get in. He can’t get in. She tells herself over and over again.

She locked it, it’s industrial, as long as she's in the back she's safe. She spends the next ten minutes trying to come down from her mini panic attack. Her body feels numb and she's never felt this frighten for her own life. Which feels trivial in the face of the strange super humans running around Old York.

Her phone buzzes, pulling her out. Hobie had texted her back, saying he was on his way. She was going to be fine.

She finally settles her breathing and feels calm enough to wait for Hobie. Her judgement was correct. She hears screaming and glasses shattering. The noise is so foreign she doesn't realize it's real until Andy comes plowing around the corner and barreling into the office. Andy slams the door shut, and turns off the lights. Her face is filled with fear as she turns around to grab MJ. 

“That guy, MJ, he- he came back!" Andy starts to whisper shout. Her voice hitching in anxiety. "He's bonkers! Threw a fit and breaking shit!" she says rushing over her words. "He was screaming for you MJ, Lars is handling it but I bolted." She grabs her hand and tries to drag MJ with her, "We have to go!” She’s whispering at her aggressively.

MJ moves to hold Andy's arms, she looks past her down at the computer's camera and sees Lars handing the man. The two girls take the opportunity to go to the back door and try to escape. They are met with an unbudging door.

“No, no, no, no!” MJ hisses and tries to open the door again, throwing her body weight at the door. She's frantic to get out, just escape.

“What the fuck!” Andy almost shouts. They try again and are meet with nothing. They're trapped. 

They hear glass breaking and it makes them freeze for only a moment before fear grips them. They run into the office, closing the door and locking it.

MJ makes her way over to the computer and sees the guy standing over Lars, holding a broken liquor bottle with a tight grip. She clutches at Andy and looks at her with wide eyes.

“I think he just killed Lars!” She hisses.

“What the fuck!” Andy replies and the two girls watch him through the camera. He’s blocking their only exit.

“We have to hide, that’s all we can do, or distract him…” MJ mutters.

“Where the hell are we gonna hide?!” Andy says in irritation.

MJ looks over to the closet in the office and shoves herself and Andy in it. The closet is filled with anything and everything, it’s honestly a mess. This could be to their advantage though. MJ finds an empty barrel, one used as decoration, and tells Andy to get in. Her friend looks at her like she’s mad.

“I’m not getting in that.” Andy hisses in a whisper.

“It’s the best spot you have and we don’t have a lot of time right now Andy!" MJ shots back quickly in irritation. "If he finds a locked door he’s breaking in. I’m gonna lock the closet but it can only give us so much time.” MJ whispers aggressively.

Andy sighs and gets in the barrel. “If he finds me first I’m killing you, not him.” She mutters.

MJ rolls her eyes but closes the barrel’s lid. She looks at the corner that’s filled with an abundance of random things. She moves some stuff around to hide behind. This is as good as it's going to get. The objects she's hiding behind are also hidden by a curtain. She hopes it'll be enough to save her. She’s shaking, clutching her phone to her chest. She turns it on silent, but texts Hobie quickly. She tells him in as little words as possible she’s hiding in the office and for him to call for help.

She knows the cops won’t come, even after their ‘reform’ they still don’t do much. Much less care about a local pub issue. That’s why they had Lars as their bouncer. Now Lars was maybe dead and it’s not like she could just call up the local vigilante.

She’s screwed unless she can somehow take this guy out herself with Andy. She’s trembling, clutching onto herself to not cry, this is not how she wants to go. Not from some creepy drunk patron. 

She hears the office door get kicked in and she tries to not gasp. He’s more than likely going to find her and not Andy, which she knew that was the risk. She’s holding onto a crowbar with a death grip. She’s just waiting for him to get in the closet. If he finds her she'll swing, fight, scream and claw her way out.

She wants to shut her eyes like a little kid and pretend this isn’t happening, but she can’t. Her hearts pounding as she hears the loud bangs on the closet door. With every hit it makes her jump. Then she hears it crash to the floor followed by heavy footsteps.

She’s trying to keep it together but tears fall down her face. She’s only human and fear is gripping at her heart.

She hears a loud grunt and a collapsing. She doesn’t dare look, but she hears something dragging against the floor.

“I don’t think ladies like stalkers much.” She hears, a new voice says mockingly.

She sits up quickly as she hears the familiar voice. She moves to stand up and quietly goes to look. She sees a distinctly spider silhouette through the broken down doorway.

His figure disappears but she can still hear him. He’s talking to the drunkard so she uses this opportunity to grab Andy. She rushes over to the barrel that Andy’s in and slides the lid off. She whispers to her, “Spider-Man’s here!”

“What?! How?” Andy says in surprise, they can hear the guy getting slammed into something, making them both jump. The noises they hear consist of loud banging and something being broken.

“Hell, if I know!” MJ hisses and makes her way over to the fallen doorway.

She peers around the corner, still trying to hide herself, and sees that Spider-Man has the guy pinned down. Arms tied behind his back and his face had been slammed into the desk. Specifically, the keyboard. The pieces are scattered and broken on the floor, a small pool of blood is underneath the man's head. 

She takes a shaky breath, one entirely too quiet, it’s enough to notify Spider-Man of her presence, his head shooting up to look at her. She sees his body relax, if just a fraction, upon seeing her.

“Mariana,” he whispers her name, so soft she almost misses it. “Always in trouble…” He says much louder, scoffing and shaking his head. She's frozen in place just watching him with large eyes.

He leans down next to the man's ear, “You’re lucky I got better things to do than rip you apart…” he hisses out.

He webs the guys arms together behind his back and throws him against the wall and webbing him there. He’s covered from the neck down to his feet, he is definitely not moving anytime soon.

Andy comes over next to her and grips MJ’s arm, letting out her own shuddering breath.

“Fuck, Lars!” Andy says in realization and bolts back to the front of the pub to assess their security guard.

MJ can’t move, her eyes are glued to Spider-Man, she feels like she’s going to pass out from the swell of relief. He turns back and silently comes over gently grabbing her shoulders to look at her.

“C’mon let’s get you outta here.” He says, voice a little gruff as he wraps an arm around her. She leans her weight into him as a support almost instinctively. She’s still trembling slightly from the fear that gripped her heart.

They walk through the front and MJ sees Andy helping Lars sit up. He was okay, just a little scratched up. MJ smiles, glad to know her bouncer was safe and not dead.

“We’re gonna call someone and I’m staying with Lars. MJ you should go.” Andy says looking over at the two.

Before she can open her mouth and protest staying with them the vigilante speaks up, “I’ll get her home.” 

Before MJ can even find her voice to respond the two are outside and he’s pulled her against him like before and starts swinging them across the city.

She’s confused and nauseous her grip tight as he swings them.

“You okay?” He asks her.

“Is this really the best time to ask me?” She mutters, groaning at the quick movements and feeling the air hit her face. Instead of it being refreshing, it stings instead.

“You gotta talk to me, it doesn’t have to be about that.” He says, voice a little rough. His grip on her tightening a fraction.

“Why?” She asks. She leans back enough to try and look at his face. Even covered in a mask, she’s trying to find something to help her read his expression.

“I just need a distraction or I’m gonna go back and rip him in half like the scum he is.” He mutters bitterly.

She narrows her eyes and whatever jumbled thoughts were swimming in her brain have finally clicked together, like pieces of a puzzle.

“Fine…but I can’t talk about what just happened.” she replies.

He grunts in acknowledgement, “Anything, we can talk about anything.” He keeps swinging, he doesn’t even need directions to get to her flat. He’s taking the right turns, as if he's done it a million times before.

“When were you gonna tell me you’re Spider-Man?” she accuses without hesitation. 

He misses his next web, causing them to fall a bit before he catches them again. His masks eyes widen as he looks at her.

Her brows are furrowed and she’s looking at him expectantly.

“What ya talkin’ about? Course I’m Spider-Man.” He tries to play off with a fake laugh.

Her face doesn’t change she raises a brow in irritation, “Hobie.” Her voice is shaking a bit, “When were you going to tell me?” She says again.

He groans and stops swinging them, he lands them on a random roof and he sets her down. His hands cover his masked face as he shakes his head. Pacing back and forth. He turns to look at her, pauses, and then rolls his head back again.

He pulls his mask off and gives her a look like he’s mildly impressed. “What gave it away?” He asks.

She takes a deep breath, “You, you were the only one I had texted…and well, you called me Mariana. Pretty sure I never told Spider-Man my name.” she whispers.

He nods and walks closer to her, he brushes his hand along her cheek, “You’re okay right? He didn’t find you?” he asks. His eyes looking over her, making his own assessment.

She nods, “No you got there just in time.” She whispers, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. She presses the heels of her palms into her eyes trying to stop herself from crying.

 She’s safe. She knows she’s safe. Hobie came like he said he would.

She runs her hands down her face and looks up at him, his body has relaxed and he pulls her to him. Tightly hugging her. She easily wraps her own arms around him, grounding herself.

“You’re too much trouble…” He murmurs into her hair.

She chuckles in response and presses her forehead to his shoulder, “Maybe it’s you who’s trouble.” She replies.

He gives a dry laugh, “Yeah, probably.”

The two hold onto each other tightly, breathing together, trying to match their hearts to the same gentle rhythm. 

[sweetbillwriting]

The Finer Things

Psycho - Part 8

Characters: Vincent De Garmont, The Marquis, From John Wick 4.

Setting: This story is set in my own universe, so not exactly the John Wick universe.

Warnings: 18+, SO MANY. Sex, abuse, violence and murder.

Ines sat in the big hotel bed under the covers in a black slip. It was Vincent’s room, or now it was theirs. They shared a room now, more or less. He didn't let her move all her things there because he thought it became too cluttered. He didn't want her make up close to the bathroom and had been really clear with that after he had gotten her powder on his white suit pants. 

She looked around the tidy room and listened to the faint sound of Vincent brushing his teeth in the bathroom. She had gotten some new information about him that she couldn't stop thinking about. 

Boyfriend. Vincent has had a boyfriend. Of course she had thought about what sort of partners the Marquis could have had before her, she had even wondered if he had experience with men but that thought hadn't come up while they had been more intimate with each other. She just saw him as her guy then and the thought that he would have chosen the company of another man before he met her had been erased. 

The door to the bathroom opened slowly and the tall man came out, dragging his hands through his unstyled hair. She knew he got stressed by feeling hair in his face and when he didn't have any products in it he showed his annoyance by his soft hair openly. He was dressed in a baby blue satin pajama set with his cursive initials on the breast pocket. It was so shiny it snatched all the lightning from the room. Ines looked at him from top to toe and smiled to herself with mixed emotions. Yeah, the Marquis had had a boyfriend. 

He crawled down next to her and did the last of his nightly routine. He put on a black eye cover on his head, moisturized his lips, and then his hands. No wonder he was as soft as a baby. He took care of every part of himself with the best French products. 

Ines looked at the sleep mask. It had become a signal for her: no sex tonight. She had a much bigger need for it than Vincent, and she suspected the only real satisfaction he could get was from seeing a life fade away in his hands. But the mask also meant they could talk; if he hadn't a book in his hand, it was okay. 

“So you're bisexual? Or Pan?” She asked curiously with an expecting expression. It was probably the most private question she had asked The Marquis. 

He looked at his hand while giving his cuticles some extra moisturizing. 

“You Americans...” he said with a downgrading tone. Ines looked at him tiredly. 

“You're also American!” 

“Not in my heart,” He said it like it was an obvious fact. 

“Yeah, yeah. Continue.” 

“With what?” He looked up at her with a bored expression. 

“Are you bi?” 

Vincent clicked his tongue and laid down in bed on his back, while Ines sat up more instead, against the headboard. 

“I don't see it like that. I am with the person I want to be with.” 

“So you're pan?” 

“What the fuck is pan? A frying pan? Peter Pan?” 

“Ha ha ha.” Ines faked a laugh but smiled when Vincent gave her a dimpled one. 

“I just think it's unnecessary to throw around words. Why does it matter? Do you want a word so you can judge me?” 

“Noo…” Ines felt stupid about her conservative thinking, especially because she in one way wanted to judge him. She wanted to be able to put a label on him. 

“Can we stop talking about this now? It's such a boring subject. I've been invited to the opening of Dior’s boutique this weekend. That's a better subject.” 

Ines looked at him unpleased and crossed her arms. 

“You don't need to come with me,” he said irritatedly, pulling down the eye mask. 

“Must you be like this? Why can't you just share things with me?” 

Ines sounded irritated for real now, and it made Vincent pull up the mask again. 

“I do! I just said you can come with me to fucking Dior!” 

“I don't want Dior! I want to know shit about you! I know you know my whole fucked up story while you don't tell me shit!” 

Vincent sat up and pulled on his pajama shirt, which twisted around his body.

“Your “fucked up story” is just bullshit! It was just child play! I will not share my story with someone who can't even handle their own bullshit story.” 

In his upset state, Vincent lost his accent again, but also that elegance that otherwise lay over him like the thinnest chiffon. 

“You maybe let your fucking junkie mom die in front of your eyes, but I broke every fucking bone in my trashy parents bodies with a hammer! And that's fucking soft for me!” 

Ines turned to him in shock. She furrowed her brows. She looked upset, but Vincent looked at her with a killer look. She knew he would kill her then and there if she said the wrong thing. The thought of that was so hot. She wondered for a second how he would do it. Strangle her? It felt like the easiest way, but something told her that was too boring for him. It was more believable that he would bite her and drink her blood. 

Ines squirmed and Vincent looked at her pressing her legs together. His angry look changed slowly to a mocking one. 

"Filthy girl,” he said lowly and sat up on his elbow. 

“Shut up,” she said but with an amused smirk. Vincent laughed and sat up more and lifted the cover to look at her panties. 

“You're such a psycho. Who gets wet from such a story?”

“I said shut up!” She whined but with a laugh and pulled up the cover. Vincent smirked and shook his head. Ines looked at his handsome face and thought about jumping him, begging for his cock but she had a question she needed an answer to. 

“What happened after you killed your parents? Did the police understand it was you?” 

Vincent laughed and laid down again with his hands behind his head. 

“Of course not. Do you know how cute I was? I was fourteen with angel eyes and the cleanest record. High grades, liked and good mannered. Appearance is everything.” 

Ines looked at his proud smile and thought about how he was now. Appearance was still everything to him and he had slowly taught her the same thing. Her Dr. Dre t-shirt and leggings with holes was probably not the best look to have to be trusted. 

“Why are you so sexy?” The word just jumped out her mouth. She couldn't control her horniness any longer. She laid her chin on his chest and looked up at him. 

“Because I'm everything other men wished they were.” 

Ines laughed and kissed him. He was probably right, she didn't care really, she just wanted his cock. 

She unbuttoned his pajama shirt and looked at his broad chest and his biceps. His body contrasted beautifully with the soft shirt and even that was turning her on. Appearance was everything but under it was a sexy, wild man. 

They kissed again over and over, Ines straddling his hips, grinding against his erection. She was so turned on but even when The Marquis moved her panties to the side to touch her sensually she couldn't stop thinking about one question. She pulled away from him a little which made Vincent look at her confused.

“Did you take or give?” 

Vincent didn't understand at all and looked even more confused. 

“I guess you slept with your ex. Did he fuck you in the ass?” 

Ines furrowed her brows when she saw how offended Vincent got. She just wondered. Or maybe it would be a little hot if he had? 

“Did you just ask me if I…” he looked at her still as offended. 

“What? It's not a big deal. I've had anal sex too. It wasn't pleasant but that's another story.”

Vincent pushed her away from his lap and shook his head in disbelief. 

“I guess that means you didn't? You seem offended…” Ines felt nervous now, it felt like she had maybe said something stupid. Vincent stood up from the bed, still without a shirt. He didn't say anything, instead he walked out of the room slowly. Ines looked after him with pain in her stomach. She hadn't expected that it would be so sensitive. To her surprise he came into the room again, but with a glass of an amber colored spirit. 

“You know that you're the most annoying girl ever, right?” he said and sat down in bed again. 

“Yeah?” She answered and smiled nervously. He looked at her while taking a sip of his drink. 

“If I tell you… My story, will something between us change then? Is it something you can't handle to hear?” He looked at her with big eyes and when Ines looked closely she could see there was worry in them. He really had some sort of feelings for her. 

“Maybe rape?” She said honestly. He showed himself vulnerable so she had no reason to lie. 

“I have never done such a thing. I promise,” he said sincerely while looking into her eyes. “The only woman I have hurt is my mom but she was worth it.” 

Ines laughed low and crawled closer to his side. Vincent laid his arm around her shoulders and took a deep breath before he started to talk.

××× 

Vincent didn't understand at all why his parents left France. They moved to his relatives in New Orleans, his poor, trashy relatives. He looked at them with distaste, even if he was just eleven years old, and looked down at them like they were vermin in his life. In France, his life had been totally different; his mother came from a noble family, and he learned at four years of age to eat escargot, with pincers and all. His grandparents thought it was amazing but also a bit funny that he showed more class than both their kids—his mother and uncle. He was a natural. Early in his life, he stopped playing games like normal kids and instead focused on what he noticed his grandparents seemed to think was important: culture, food, politics, history, and how they looked. He was born to live like the rich, but his parents had other plans. 

Vincent hadn't thought about who would inherit after his grandparents and had a naive belief that he would be able to continue his luxury life. There was nothing else for him. Money and luxury were the grounds he was standing on. The day both his grandparents had died, the family realized there was just one person who would inherit everything: Vincent's uncle. He was older than his mom, was a man, and had more class. His mother had chosen a man from a simple background, a dentist without his own practice. Vincent was ashamed of his father, the peasant, even if he hadn't been alive without him. He wished his mother could find someone else, but she chose to stay with him and rip away everything that was important for the eleven-year-old Vincent: money, good food, and pricey wine. They destroyed his life and moved to his father's home country. USA. The land of tastelessness and hydrogenated fat. He was sure he wouldn't survive. 

His parents became middle-class and believed they could spoil him with soda and chips. They seem to believe the American lifestyle would fit an eleven-year-old boy better, but Vincent looked at everything with distaste. His family, relatives, and everything around him. He dreamed about champagne and oysters. He wished for hand-tailored suits and cufflinks in platinum. 

Even if he felt like a prince lost in a garbage dump, he succeeded in charming most people around him. He knew he had the looks for it, the manners, but also the intelligence. It was known in the area that he was an unusually smart boy, an unusually well-mannered boy. He was the golden boy, so golden neighbors bragged about him, even if they just met him once or twice. Females were especially weak for him, and even he thought it was weird how grown women wanted to be around him, a thirteen-year-old boy. It was also how he got money. They gave him money just to listen to their problems. They gave him liquor to make him stay longer. He thought it went well for him until he noticed a group of people who would give him even more money: men in “not so functional straight relationships." He knew it was strange, and many would have looked at him as a victim, but he never saw himself as a victim. He was not the type. 

He probably earned more money as a boy courtesan than his mother did as a social worker, and he spent it all on himself. It was the day his father came home in anger after hearing a rumor about his son selling his body to rich men Vincent killed both of his parents. He hadn't planned it, but seeing his father throw out his Louis Vuitton bags on the floor, spilling out his YSL perfumes, and digging in his jewelry box, he had enough. They were so disrespectful and also so below him that he needed to get rid of them. So why not do it in a fun way? That night, he snuck into their room, tied them to the bed, gagged them, and gave them a hammer hit for everything they had taken from him. Bourgogne wines, seafood, belts in real leather, a good hairdresser, watching polo... The list was long, so their bodies looked more like minced meat when he was done. He looked at his craft in excitement. It felt like a great accomplishment, maybe even an artwork. He wished he could take a picture of it and show people, but he knew no one would understand. People around him were way too unintelligent to understand it.

××× 

Vincent had pulled her up in his lap and held her face and kissed her deeply. He made a sound of pleasure and kissed her again.

“But you understand, right? It looked like a blood red butterfly, a meaty, powerful butterfly. And it was what they were. Finally they were there they should be, you know? Their kill was the most beautiful thing in their lives,” he said with wonder in his voice. Ines giggled. 

“You sound like a psycho!” 

Vincent looked at her and licked his lips. 

“Noo… I just know my art.” 

Ines shook her head in amusement and kissed his lips again. 

“But what happened after that?” 

Vincent leaned back against the headboard and looked around dreamily. 

“I went to one of the rich men and then I had my alibi. Not like he dared to say something else. He was fifty years old hanging around with a fourteen year old boy. Better they believed I was there as his literature student than telling the cops I was there getting drunk on cognac and showing off in his pool. Everyone was on my side anyway. I was the golden child.” 

Ines dragged her hands through his hair. She wasn't surprised. He had that aura that made him feel like the most valuable thing, person in the room. 

“And then?” She asked. 

××× 

Everyone felt sorry for him. He was an orphan. Several people offered to help him and open their homes for him, but Vincent knew where he wanted to be. He wanted to go back to France. He had his uncle there. Social service thought he should live with his father's cousin, but Vincent handled that situation with crocodile tears and an accusation of abuse. He got what he wanted, what he had planned, and moved in with his uncle and his family in their castle. They still had his grandparents estate, but the family didn't want to live with the elderly couple’s old things and bought a castle for the inherited money. Vincent loved it. All the big rooms, the light, but mostly the soft rugs that were in every room. He could spend a whole day just digging his toes into the rugs. He was happy there. He could live as he wanted again. He didn't need to dress up for pathetic old men but instead did it for the other young socialites. He met his first girlfriend that way, but then there was also the young man who would change his life. Mael. His father was a sponsor of several politicians, and when they got power, they paid him back from the state's treasury. Vincent admired the father, but it was the son who created lust in him.  

×××

“But seriously, now, can't you just answer if you take or give?” Ines pleaded and dragged her fingers over his shoulders. She still sat over him. Vincent looked at her tiredly. 

“It depends on the person,” he said, just to please her. Ines nodded a little. 

“And Mael..? 

“Both. Okay?” 

Ines smiled in excitement and then giggled. She couldn't hold it in. 

“Is it weird I think that's hot?”

Vincent now smirked at her pointedly. 

“You're a filthy girl, so...” 

She smiled teasingly, and he smiled back in a similar way. Both of them reached out to each other so their tongues could meet. Ines pulled away again in a flirty way, but continued her nosy questions. 

“Is it Mael I will kill?” 

“Mael died a long time ago... So no,” said Vincent, looking around in the room. It felt like he didn't want to look at her. She hadn't felt before when he talked that Mael was such a loaded subject, but now it felt like a minefield. They were quiet for a while, with Vincent dragging his hands over her thighs with a low gaze until he spoke again.

“Should I continue to tell you?” 

Ines nodded eagerly.  

××× 

Vincent didn't get what he had wished for on his eighteenth birthday. He had hoped for a car or a trip, but instead his uncle said goodbye. He was grown up now and could leave their home. He knew his uncle didn't like him very much because he always made him look bad. He could talk about politics, history, and art in a relaxed and confident manner, while his uncle pretended to know. Vincent couldn't stop himself from correcting the older man and making the other socialites laugh at him. Vincent laughed too, like he was the man of the house making fun of the servant. His uncle wanted to get rid of him now, when he could. Finally, he could throw the boy out. 

Vincent’s ground tumbled under his feet again, and suddenly he stood homeless and penniless on the street. Maybe he could have treated his uncle and family better, but he was never mean; he was just more sophisticated than them. That they sat on the money was a stupid mistake from his grandparents; it was he who could make their family name flourish and not buy a castle and let the family estate decay. 

Lucky for Vincent, he had a rich boyfriend. Mael was kind, beautiful, and caring. A man to trust. He was the same age as himself, but instead of getting kicked out into homelessness, his parents gave him a luxury apartment in central Paris as an eighteenth birthday gift. An apartment big enough for them both. They didn't know if people understood they were a couple, but they didn't really care. No one said anything about it, and if people want to believe they lived together as two buddies, they could believe that. That they shared a bed and let each other in as close as possible was not anyone else's business. 

Still, Vincent wasn't pleased. Mael took care of him in every way, but Vincent walked around in annoyance because of the emptiness in his chest. He needed more. He needed what his parents gave him. Their lives and blood. The only thing that could make him sleep was the image of the fleshy butterfly. Its beautiful scarlet color and the satisfaction it gave him. The feeling of pumping power into his veins. 

Mael started to talk about his father's plan for him one day. He hadn't shared it before, probably because he was afraid of hurting Vincent, but their relationship had started to fade. He didn't seem to have such a big interest in closeness and seemed restless and trapped in his modern apartment. 

Mael’s father wanted to send him away for some sort of education to become a soldier in a special group of the army. It was not only the fancier group but also the group with more interesting jobs. Guard the premiere minister, be a spy in Russia, or do secret operations in the Middle East. Mael had started to think about it, but he hadn't expected Vincent's eyes to become even bigger and rounder. Mael believed he saw a chance to get an important job that could connect him to the socialites again, but Vincent just felt the butterflies wet wings around him. The smell of metal and death. 

××× 

“Was it there that the thing with your back happened?” Ines asked softly and dragged her hands over his waist, back to his sensitive back. Vincent looked at her a bit surprised that she understood that. 

“Yeah. I got the most physical jobs because… I was good at it while Mael…” Vincent looked down but nothing of his manners gave away sadness, he masked it so well. “He couldn't handle it. We were in Somalia, searching for someone together. The mayors saw us as best friends so they let us work together, but also because he was weak but also rich while I was strong.” 

Vincent continued to talk neutrally about his young love and Ines couldn't really say if he was upset over his death or not. He even sounded a bit condescending when he called the young man weak. 

“He got a panic attack while we talked with some guys and started to wave with his weapon and they started to shoot. That weak boy died at once while I survived but with my back all messed up and without a job. No one wants a soldier who can't run.” He looked at her with an empty gaze but she could see a sadness sweep by when he talked about his back. He seemed more upset over his back than Mael. His first love. Ines dragged her fingers through his soft hair and inspected his cold expression. 

“Are you not sad? For Mael?” 

Vincent looked around in the room but his expression was still unreadable. “I was. But now he's dead and I'm not. It was fun while it lasted.” He leaned back and took his glass with the amber colored drink and took a sip. He looked elegant and calm even if he was without a shirt and talked about the death of a loved one. She looked at him a bit worried. She wondered if he maybe lied to himself and hadn't gotten over Mael or if he maybe didn't know what real love was. It wouldn't surprise her. 

“But-” she wanted to ask what happened when he once again stood outside of the social elite but his phone rang on the night stand and he took it in his big hand. He looked at the name for a few seconds and bit his lip then he answered in french. Ines, who still sat over him, could clearly hear the male voice from the phone.

“Bonsoir ma chérie, je te manque?” 

× 

[diovstheworld]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well today and that you don’t mind taking a request! ^^ May I please get La Squadra’s reactions to a creative Reader whose stand allows them to create anything from their imagination? (Though for battle they mostly bring characters that they’ve made up to life because it’s useful) Thank you so much! 🤗💖

hi! i’m sorry it took me so long to get around to this ahhhh. thank you so much for the request! here’s my attempt 🙈

୨ ╭ ୨୧ ✦ ︶꒷꒦・⎯⎯・⎯⎯・₊ˎ✧๑

Risotto:

• of course sees the benefits of your stand and is probably very impressed, not that he shows it too much. he doesn't want to boost your ego too much Imao

• that being said, he probably does sit down with you at some point to figure out the ins and outs of your stand and what it's capable of

• he's probably not asking you to create something for him unless it's totally necessary

• still, he has a lot of respect for your stand and he definitely trusts your stand is capable of holding its own

Prosciutto:

• a similar reaction to risotto's probably

• he cares about the stand and is curious

• unlike risotto though, i think he would be curious enough to try and get you to create something though. nothing too crazy, but perhaps a few small things followed by some larger things just to test your capabilities. though he’s probably more interested in what’s going on in your mind and what manifested such a stand. i think risotto would also be like this

• definitely not asking you to make anything weird though, just normal and probably boring things unless he gets extremely curious (he probably wishes he could be a little more creative lmao)

Formaggio:

• oh this guy is gonna have a lot of fun with you and your stand Imao

• is always asking you to make things for him (normally very dumb things)

• 'so like, could you make me an infinite amount of cats?'

• 'could you make a shit ton of clones of me!?

• please don't make clones of him, we don't need anymore formaggio's Imao

Illuso:

• understands why everyone loves your stand, but doesn't want to love it

• mainly because he doesn't like the attention being on someone else other than him

• 'yeah well your stand can't do what man in the mirror can do

• probably asks you to create things for him when the others aren't around. this is his way of showing his appreciation of your stand even if he doesn't explicitly say it. appreciate this, it's the closest thing to a compliment you'll ever get from illuso :,)

Pesci:

• i feel like he would be a little freaked out at first by the stand purely because he doesn't know what the heck you're going to make

• but he when gets used to it, he likes seeing you create your characters and all the cool things in your imagination

• sometimes asks if you can help him bring some of his characters and thoughts to life too

• also loves seeing nature brought to life. bring out some butterflies and this guy is super happy :)

Ghiaccio:

• i feel like at first he would pretend not to care but the second he sees you bringing to life your own characters, he's all over it

• he's probably asking you to bring his own characters to life too. and he's probably way too excited about it. actually probably one of the few times he not angry lmao

• over all impressed by the ability and though he probably won't express that in words, you can tell by the light in his eyes each time he sees a new creation

• he's probably going to be stuck like glue to you now Imao. he wants to go on all sorts of missions with you to see what you do and how you react in situations with the stand

Melone:

• i also feel like he'd be getting very carried away with your stand

• not in the same way as formaggio though. just like risotto and prosciutto, he probably wants to know more about what's going on in your mind and what you want to create, not forcing you to create things for him

• 'wow y/n, your stand is very impressive

• nothing but genuine compliments from this guy. what can i say, he's very impressed by what you can do!

[solar3lunar]

4.ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕠 𝔹𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘☆

Ayama POV

Today is the day we finally get our hero costume! I was talking with Mina as she gave me everyone phone numbers so I got to know everyone a bit better before class started. We all went to our seat as the clock hit 8:23. Home room went by fast.

We have Uncle Mic for English which is the most easiest thing ever. Although everyone was really bored during this time. I almost fell asleep until I heard he speak.

"Which of these four sentences contains a mistake?" My uncle asked the class. I can tell that Jirō, Ashido, and Kamninari faces read 'so boring.' I really can't blame them.

"This really sucks." Katsuki said. My Uncle Mic caught on to that and started to panic. " Hey everybody, look alive! Grammar rules!" He shouted. I just looking the way towards Bakugou who was only two seats away from me.

God why do I have this feeling. I saw him look back and I then pretend I was just focus on the lesson. "Nerd." I heard him say. I only quitely giggled. Momo had answered the questions. After a few classes it was lunch.

The lunch room was huge. I saw Izuku, Ochaoco, and Tenya. So, I decided I would go sit with them. The food was really great. And a cheap price. So there was nothing to complain about when it came to food.

"White rice is the perfect comfort food, isn't it?" A chef robot asked us. "Yes of course." I said with a close eye smile and my hands above my chest. Although I like yellow rice more... Ochaoco nodded while Izuku was whimpered and Tenya seems surprised.

Lunch had ended and we all went back to our class. I was talking with Momo on the way there turn out she was sitting with Jirō so if I want. I can sit with them next time. Now since it's the afternoon It's was time for Hero Basic Training!

We we're all seated waiting and wondering who our next teacher would be. "I am here!" Oh God. "Coming through the door like a hero!" Uncle All Might spoke. I was cringing at his intro and the way he came through the door.

All the students were gasping. Even Izuku. I mean he has looked up to All Might all his life. I guess it's can't be helped. "I can't believe it's really All Might" Denki said, surprised. "So he is a teacher! This year's going to be totally awesome!" Eijior spoke up.

Well they did say he was going to be apart of the staff this year. "This year has gotten a whole lot interesting." I said. "Hey look. Is he wearing his Sliver Age costume?"

Tsu pointed out while my uncle was making huge step towards the front of the classroom. "I'm getting goosebumps. It's so retro!" Ojiro said.

"Welcome to the most important class at U.A High. Think of it has Hero-ing 101." He got the first sentence right. "Here you will learn the basics of being a pro. And what it means to fight in the name of good!" My Uncle said bravely.

"Let's get into it! Today's lesson will pull no punches!" He shouted. I was so excited my eyes widened. "Fight training." Katsuki said,by his voice I could tell he was happy. While Midoriya.... "Real combat?"Izuku sounded unsure.

"But the one of the keys of being a good hero is... Looking good!" He pointed towards some empty slots as they came out. "These were design for you based on your Quirk registration forms and the requests you sent in before school started." He said. The whole class was excited.

"Get yourself suited up and then meet me at Training Ground Beta!"He shouted "Oh and Miss Ayama." He said. I look his direction. And the whole class had eyes on me.

"Someone from the staff add something with your outfit. They'd said it'll help with your voice." He said. I nodded knowing it was my dad. "Let's get moving Heros!" He shouted.

He shouted. After getting our new hero outfit on. I took a look at the new piece of jewelry. It's a sliver choker with wavy designs and in middle of it was the shape of a crescent moon.

All the girls were complimenting each other. So when I showed them my outfit they were amazed. "The outfit looks really on you, Ayama." [Mina]

"Aw thanks, Mina" [Ayama]

We were all just waking through a tunnel. So I don't get it. Oh well. "Hey Ayama can you make a beat when were walking towards the outside?" Denki ask. "Oh that's would cool." Eijior said. "Sure." I said. I then thought a beat them played it. (Same in the episode.) "Nice." Hanta said.

"They say that clothes make the pros, young ladies and gentlemen, and behold, you are the proof! Take this to heart. From now on you're all... Heroes in training!" He shouted.

As we all step out into the light. " This is getting me all revved up. You look so cool!" He said excited. " Now. Shall we  get started you buncha newbies?" He shouted. Wait a minute. Where Izuku?

"Hey Deku!" I heard Ochaoco said. I was standing right next to her. "Nice costume Deku!" I said. "Thanks your guys costume look nice as well." He said going fully pink. "Yeah, but Ochaoco is really cool." I said. "Your amazing Ayama." She said.

"I love this school." Mineta said. "Yeah it's pretty cool." I said. "Yeah, but I like this school for other reasons." He said in a seductive tone. 'Let me not even say anything.'

She said as she has me now standing near her. I hear Uncle All Might small growl for a moment. That when I realized something. His costume and Izuku. Izuku making something things a bit too obvious.

"Now that your ready, it's time for combat training." Uncle All Might said. "Sir." Iida said. He basically had a question about if we're doing the same thing with the exam. Which we're not.

"Run-ins with the most dastardly evildoers take place indoors. Think about it. Backroom, deals, home invasions, secret underground lairs. Truly intelligent criminals stay hidden in the shadows." He explained.

"For this training exercise you'll be split into teams of good guys and bad guys and fight two on two-one-two battles." Uncle All Might said.

"But Sir, their 21 of us." Ashido said. He really does have trouble teaching kids. "Let's see. I'll have One team in group of three!" He said. Students then start asking more questions.

"Ugh. I wasn't finished talking!" He pulls out a small book. "The villains have hidden a nuclear missile somewhere in their hideout. The hero must try to foil their plans." He said.

"To do that the good guys either have to catch the evildoers or recover the weapon. Likewise  the bad guys succeed if they protect their payload or capture the Heros." He explained.

"Time's limited, and we'll choose teams drawing lots!" He shouted. "Isn't there a better way away?" Iida interrupted. "Think about it! Pros often have to team up with heroes from other agencies on the spot, so maybe that's the reason we're seeing that here." Izuku explain to him.

"Yes, I see. Life is a random series of events. Excuse my Rudeness." Iida said. "No sweat. Let's Draw!" My uncle shouted.

A: Izuku and Ochaoco

B: Shoto and Mezo

C: Momo, Minoru, and Ayama

D: Bakugo and Tenya

F: Mina and Yuga

E: Rikido and Koji

G: Kyoka and Denki

H: Tsu and Fumikage

I: Toru and Mashiro

J: Eijior and Hanta

Those are the groups we're in. "Who would've thought I'd be the lucky one with two girls!" I heard Mineta said. "Huh? Why is that?" I asked. "Because-" But Momo smack him in the head. "Nothing pure I can tell you that." She said leaving Mineta with a big bump.

"I declare that the first teams to fight will be... These guys!" He said while throw the ball in the air and caught them. The balls read A and D. Man I was actually looking forward to fighting with Katsuki. He looks really good in that outfit same with Momo.

I think he felt my eyes on him, because he look my was and I quickly turned away and blush. "Team A will be the Heros and team D will be the villains." My Uncle shouted. I look towards Bakugo he had this please smile on his face like evil fun.

"Everyone else can head to the monitoring room to watch!" He shouted. "Yes, sir." I made eye contact with Izuku and Bakugo. ' Give it your all, but don't end killing each other.' look. I saw Bakugo just look away while I gave Izuku a pat on the shoulder.

As walking away I notice the stares Bakugo gave him. But Izuku fights back the stare back looking back at him shocking Bakugo making him even more fierce."Come on Ayame!" Ashido called out. "Oh coming!" As I run towards them.

I felt a energy coming from somewhere. It was negative one. But I ignore it while walking with the other to the monitoring room. Don't kill him.

"I wonder how this will play out." Eijior said. "Hopefully okay." I said. "Speaking of okay. Is THAT okay?" I heard Eijior asked pointing down at my thigh. "Huh?" I look down only to see Mineta holding onto my thigh.

"Ehh?!?" I shouted. "I bet your thighs are so  warm. I can already tell there very big & thick." My face is really heated when he said that. His face was so...

"You pervert!" Ashido shouted while Momo hit him in the head. "Oww!" He cried. "Next time, don't grab on my thigh. Thanks." I said. "I was mostly talking about how he got Ayama all to his self, but yeah...." Eijior mutter.

My uncle All Might came in as we all put our straight faces on. As he went towards the screens. "All right! Let's being the indoor combat training! Team A and Team D, your time starts now!" He shouted through the mic.

"Pay attention, kids. Think about what you would do." My uncle said. I know it's going to be hard Midoriya, but you gotta get through this! If anything happens me or my uncle will stop it.

We watch how the enter the building through a window. As they were walking down the hallways and about to turn a corner. Bakugo came out of nowhere and I could see the hatred in his eyes. As he made a full on blow towards Midoriya.

Thankfully he missed them as they both went on the floor. But Midoriya quickly stood up. "He almost got the jump on them." Mineta said. "Sneak attack, Bakugo? What kind of man pulls cheap crap like that?" Eijior questioned.

"It's a viable strategy. He's playing the part. Acting like a true Villain would." My uncle said. But that not the reason. "No it's because Bakugo is filled up with so much pride in himself." I whisper. "It's didn't work Midoriya doge him!" Mina pointed out.

"Looks, there he goes!" Denki said. Bakugo was charging towards Midoriya. But Midoriya stop him by holding one his gauntlet. He then flipped him to the ground. Alright! "Deku is a name of a hero!" He shouted, but mouth it is what it look towards us.

"Hey who is he talking to? I'm not hearing anything. Can we get any sound with this video?" Eijior asked talking about Bakugou. "He got a radio in his ear so he can talk to his partner. I gave it to him before the match started. Along with the map of the building. Also this a roll of capture tape!" My uncle explained.

"Wrapping this around your opponent means you've apprehended them, and their out for the rest of the game." He explained. "So, there's a 15-minute time limit, and the good guys have idea what floor I nuclear weapon is hidden on, right?" Ashido asked. "Correct!" My Uncle shouted.

"And the Heros are clearly at a disadvantage here. A big one!" Ashido said. "Well think about it. That's usually how villains are." I said. To which my uncle nods. "That's life. Even when the odds aren't in our favor, we fight!" He said.

"All together!" He shouted of course. " Let's hear a Plus Ultra!" We shouted as one. "Monsieur. He's on the move." Yuga said which quickly caught all of our attention.

Izuku seem to be telling Ochaoco to run away. Deku was doing okay with holding Kaachan off for awhile.  While students were giving him compliments. "Who do you think will win?" I ask Momo. "Hmm. It's still a bit to early to tell." She said. Katsuki was ready to use his next move, but Izuku ran away.

"That guy has some real angry issues." Denki said. "Facts." I said. But it's mostly because of his pride which is too high and it's needs to be knock down.

I watch as Bakugo knocked down walls of the building. His pride has really turn him into something else. I could only think back when we were little kids. We were by the beach skipping pebbles.

Katsuki being the jerk he is and his other friends. Tease Deku about his pebble drowning so fast. I found it ridiculous.

I guess he had a soft spot for me back then. I don't know about now. I snapped back to reality. I look up on screen seeing that Bakugo had used one of his gauntlet on Midoriya. I can tell that Bakugo is angry. And I know he not trying to kill Midoriya but this is too far.

"Ayama run to the building to help Midoriya and Ochaoco!" My uncle shouted. "You'll still be on team C, but just Go!" He said.

"Ayama be careful!" Momo spoke. "Don't worry. I'll be fine." I said before running towards to the floor Midoriya and Ochaoco had first enter.

I quickly followed the loud noise. I hummed making butterflies appear and followed them. I finally made it towards them. I heard my uncle tell Bakugo if he use his gauntlet again he his team will lose.

I saw Bakugo think about his decision. As Midoriya notice me, but I made the sign to speak. My hoodie fell off as I started to use my Quirk. My hair floated up while getting longer  as I felt my eyes glow red.

My scarf was lifting up as well. I saw Midoriya talking to Ochaoco through his ear set. "Fine! We'll fight hand to hand combat!" He shouted While run towards him. I quickly sent my scarf pieces to capture Bakugo.

"Hn! Mr.Aizawa!" Bakugo grunted knowing he couldn't escape my scarf. I was holding it. "Wrong one." I said.

"What the hell are you doing here!" He shouted at me. "I get it you're upset, because he has a Quirk. That's doesn't mean you should try to almost kill him!" I told him. I felt him stop struggling. I think he finally got the memo. I let go of him.

He then run up to Izuku. And Izuku saw it coming. He was ready. But Bakugo had another plan in mind. Once he did his move he was going to to right hook him. I quickly jump and landed in front of Izuku and move him out of the way and doge Bakugo's attack.

I quickly jump above him. Then using one of my knee, I quickly bend it into Bakugo back. While grabbing his gauntlet and jabbing it into his back. "Ack!". He shouted. I got off of him.

He got up. He look angry at me. "MOVE OUT OF THE WAY, IDIOT!" He yelled at me. I active my Quirk making my eyes glow red. Using his Quirk I sent an explosion his way.

Which he blocked with his gauntlet. He surprised me when it look like he was coming for me, but I remember that Deku was behind me.

He push me out the way. I saw him right hook Izuku by using the metal part of his gauntlet. I saw Izuku use his all for one Quirk. But I black out.

"Luna." That voice... Sounds so familiar, but why can't I remember? I snapped out of thought. "Ayama?" I looked up to see My Uncle Might looking concerned.

I then looked everywhere. I saw Deku getting dragged away by the medical robot. And Katsuki just standing looking at his gloves.

"Are you alright?" My uncle asked me. "Yeah I'm fine." I said slowly getting up. "Alright then. Head back to where they others are. I'm going to have a word with Bakugou." He's told me. I nodded and started to walk back.

"Luna." My vision became a bit blurry. I felt a liquid coming come out of my ears. I touch one of my ears. I bring my hand in front of me. It kinda look fuzzy, because of my vision. But I know it's blood. Next thing I hear is something  or someone drop.

"Ayama!"

I slowly open up my eyes only to find myself in the nurses office. I see Midoriya leave as my Dad walk in. "Oh, so you're awake." My Dad said. "Yeah..." I said. I saw him look worried a bit, which was weird. But Nana look even more worried.

"I heard a voice-" "Did your ears bleed?" He asked me and I nodded. "Shit.." he said. "Is something wrong?" I ask him. This time I was raising an eyebrow at him. "Nothing that you should be worried about. You'll be riding home with me today. No choice." He said in a strict manner then left. I just groaned.

"You know he just looking out for you." Recovery girl said. "I know Nana, it's just... I feel like he won't tell me anything." I said. She just sighed as walking over to me giving me a kiss draining me.

"I'm sure he has a good reason for it. Now hurry and go to the staff room." She said. "Okay see you later Nana." I said before leaving.

I made my way back to the classroom. I open the door only for my feet decide to not work. Resulting to me falling.

"Ayama!" Some students said in shock. "Ow." I said. Momo and Ochaoco came to help me out. "Be careful." Momo said as I got my balance back. "Thanks." I said nicely. I chatted with them a bit before going to the bathroom to change then putting my hero costume back.

I asked them if they seen Bakugo they told me he left, but Midoriya went to talk for him. I thank them quickly than ran. I bump into someone. "Oh sorry-"

"Why are you in such a rush darling?" Kiyoshi asked me. "Not today I'm really not in the mood for your mind games." I said. 'Oh but I am." He said while licking his lips.

"I told you this before and I'll say again. Not interested." I simply said. "But I am." He grab my wrist. "If you don't get your hands off of me. There's finna be a problem. I'm not the shy little girl you saw in middle school." I told him.

"You mean the one who nobody like? Other than me?" He said. "You mean the one who almost got rape by you in the bathroom. Then yes."I said it and I could care less how he reacts.

"Will you shut up about that." He said rolling his eyes. "You have a girlfriend and side chicks. Go mess with her or with them." I said getting out of his grip.

{Pack Lite~Queen Naija}

(I really only like this part of the song)

“You can gon' 'head puff up your chest, but it bet not go no further.”  I walked away from him. I might put on a brave face but I was honestly scared.

I walked towards my dad's personal office and just sat there doing homework assignments while he did work. After about 15 minutes. We left the school.

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

"Can I go near that cherry blossoms tree that you and mom used to sit at?" I asked. "You want to go outside after what happened? Hahaha. You're funny." He deadpanned.

"Dad it's only like a five to ten minute walk to get there. I'll be fine." I said. "No. And that's final." I just set head on the dashboard.

My eyes go wide as a gasp left my mouth.

{Eyes blue like the atlantic~Sista Prod}

(Slowed)

﹏﹏﹏﹏K﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Shōta?"

'Hm."

"If I were to disappear one day. What would you do?"

"Kesshō..."

*A few moments of silence*

"Well?"

"Do what any other hero in Japan would do."

"That's what any other hero would do. I didn't ask what any other heroes would do. I ask what would Shōta do."

"The moment you're gone. I wouldn't know how to function or cope with myself, Kesshō. I would try to find you myself. No matter how long it takes. Even if it does take years."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

﹏﹏﹏﹏S﹏﹏﹏﹏

What did I just witnessed?! I couldn't see anything faces. But black silhouettes of my parents, when they were younger.

Strange. I never had something like that happens before. "What is it?" I heard my Dad asked. "Just remembered that the nintendo switch you ordered for me comes today." Which wasn't a lie.

"And I need to walk the-"

"No."

"Well at least I tried."

I got out the car and grabbed my backpack. I closed the door and see my Dad already on the porch holding a box in his hand.

"Well?" I asked. "Ayama's." I quickly rushed up and hugged my Dad. "Thanks Dad!" I heard him chuckle. He patted my back.

I stop hugging him and got the box from him. My pupils change into stars. "Wait til you get inside the house." I heard my dad said. "Uh huh."

When he opened the door. I walked inside casually and took off my shoes. And once I reach the upper step. I bolted my butt upstairs and straight to my room.

"Hi Leo! Hi Nebula!"

I close my door and put the box on my bed. "I guess I should get changed first." I walk towards my dresser and pulled out a lightblue shirt with a butterfly on it. And black jeans.

I got undress and put the other clothes on. I went back to my bed and pick up the box and walked towards my desk.

Open my drawer. And got out my box cutter. The thing had tape on it. And I didn't want to use my nails that I did a few week ago. Nothing too long or crazy. Simple short white matte nails.

I opened the box and I was amazed by the design of it. “Lavender lunar sky. Nice. Now to test it out!"

Taglist: @mypimpademia

~Luna Lyric~

~Wishlist~

~Universe navi~