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petrichorium · 2 months ago

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I... would like to hear more of your thoughts about Luffy.... if you have any more to spare.....

lil prequel to this

The jungle is hotter than you anticipated.

It's only been an hour and already you're sweating through your linen shirt. It was foolish, really, to assume you'd be prepared, but before setting foot on the beach you might have said you'd last at least the first day before stripping most of your outerclothes.

Luffy, in contrast, seems perfectly unaffected. Of course it’s been nearly a decade since he’d first entered the Grand Line, an infinity of experience compared to you—in fact you might even say he looks more at home amongst the overgrowth and unseen beasts than he did in the bustling urbanism of your home island. He stands taller, you think; doesn’t bother hunching to your height, shoulders rolled back with eager confidence.

He'd picked up a walking stick somewhere along the way, and though he's offered more than once you've resolutely refused to climb onto that broad back if only because just the sight of it before you has your heart beating ever faster.

(And, admittedly, because more than once you've spotted some bug or another that has drawn you astray, and you'd be far too sheepish to ask him to stop and let you off if you saw one from his back.)

Now you lead the way, following the trail of distinctively eaten foliage that you'd first pointed out to a surprisingly keen pirate king who'd crouched to hover over your shoulder as you eagerly gestured to the characteristic patterns. He's carried on following you, an energetic pup at your heels with hands just a bit too willing to reach out and tug you away from the countless dips and valleys you seem determined to fall down.

Such as the one you stumble across now. The ground drops before you, so large that even your poor reflexes can stop you. Your heart drops even faster—once the trees have given way you realize the cliff you’ve run square into has revealed a perfect view of the ship you arrived on, and just how far into the horizon it’s gotten.

“Ahhhh,” Luffy says, a dismayed sort of noise. You flinch as a heavy forearm slams against your shoulder, the man forcing more of his weight than comfortable onto you as he leans forward. “So slow. The Sunny would have been gone by now.”

“What?”

“The Thousand Sunny! My ship!”

You wrinkle your nose. “I know what the Thousand Sunny is—“

“You do?” He’s giddy now, eager as he leans even closer into your personal space. “She’s the best ship ever, right? With the lion at the front, so cool, I'll take you to sit on it when—“

“I don’t know that much.” Your hand finds his face as you shove him away none too gently. He doesn’t budge. “Just the name, the figurehead… the flag.”

What any person in the world would know about the ship that carries the king of the pirates. You don’t bother clarifying such things anymore. Luffy doesn’t tend to listen.

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned by the fact that our ship has sailed off?”

He blinks. “That’s why you brought me along, though.”

The words turn your blood cold. You swallow thickly. “You knew? Did you… did Lyle tell you? Is that why you agreed so quickly?”

Luffy makes a face. When he speaks it’s sour in a distinctly juvenile way. “Don’t talk about him, I don’t like him. And I really don’t like when you talk about him.”

"He's my husband," is all you can think to say in response.

"He wants you dead."

Even more than before, you feel as if you've been doused in freezing water, as if the air has been knocked from your lungs. You knew—of course you knew, obviously you knew, but hearing it aloud is an entirely different territory. Your knees buckle; Luffy’s hands find your waist before you can drop, lifting you with ease to deposit you almost tenderly onto the large outcropping of rock you’d been bracing yourself against.

They rest on either side of your thighs. You try not to think too hard about how warm they feel against you.

Your new perch is high enough that you’re level with him now. It’s a more comfortable feeling, no longer craning your neck to look him in the eye. Except he has other intentions; ones that have your face growing hot as he sighs and lowers his head to rest his cheek against the soft give of your thigh.

He’s always been touchy, moreso than appropriate, but it’s never been anything this bold. When he glances up at you through lidded eyes your breath hitches, a thrill going through you.

“We’ll just wait for my crew, yeah? If I don’t show up in a couple days they’ll follow my vivre card to find us. But you knew all that, didn’t you?”

You squirm a little. Luffy's arm tightens around your legs.

"Stop that. Just lemme—"

He shoves his face into your stomach. You yelp, hand flying to grip his hair none too gently—but that only drags a groan from him as he presses further and inhales deeply. Your abdomen tenses involuntarily.

(Lyle had never touched you so intimately, and certainly never so desperately. It had all been courteous and tasteful during the course of your arranged engagement, and then he'd gone cold after the wedding. Some rebellious part of you wishes he could see you and the king of the pirates now...)

He pulls back only when you finally sink into it. Stomach still fluttering, you push it aside and lean back on your forearm, that hand in his hair relaxing to stroke through the strands absent-mindedly. He eases up, lifting his head to watch you.

“Why?” You say finally. “Why are you so calm? I tricked you into coming here, I lied to you, I manipulated you, and you just went along with it? Now you’re stranded on this island with me for who knows how long until your people finally show up and you’re just okay with that? Why?”

Luffy blinks at you, dark eyes wide as his head tilts and his mouth pulls into a pout that has your heart skipping a beat.

“Well… you’re gonna join my crew, aren’t you?”

#ask.🌧#anon #luffy x reader #one piece x reader #mine.🌧#char.🌧 luffy #IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON U WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW MANY ITERATIONS I HAD BEFORE SETTLING ON THIS ONE 😭😭😭#it’s been like. a month or smthn crazy my god #and I still have more yappage to share abt these two but I had to control myself LMFAOOOOOO

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starry-bi-sky · 1 year ago

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Clone^2 Damian

If you really think about, Damian's situation in the clone^2 au is... kinda tragic? Especially in the early months of his arrival. Like,,, think about it. Damian has always known he was a clone of Damian Wayne, that he was a copy of the blood son. There was nothing 'original' about him, not even his name (of which at least Danny has that). He was just... a replacement. A disposable one, to boot.

And he knew that, to an extent, by the time he was six years old. he might not have been actively acknowledging it -- he's six years old -- but deep down he knew. And like, he's six years old. Every small child craves the love and affection of an adult, especially their parents, and even though he knew he was clone, I imagine he still considered - and still does consider, somewhat - Talia and Bruce as his mother and father. And I really doubt he was... getting it?

Now, I know Talia loves Damian, her son. At least in some interpretations she does, and in this au she does. But... a clone of her son? I'm not so certain if she would have the same affection for baby Dames as she would for Damian. I don't think she would treat him badly, but I don't think Talia would treat him warmly either. Kinda just, distant. Colder than she would have been with OG Damian.

And, I know I've mentioned Damian's arrival from Danny's point of view, and its kind of comical kind of insane from his perspective -- a little boy clone of Damian Wayne falls through a portal and immediately attacks him. That sounds like a bad joke.

But, if you think of this from Damian's point of view? It's like he just got dropped into a scary movie. Like, think about it. You're six years old, and suddenly a portal, as green and as swirling as your grandfather's pools, opens up beneath your feet and sucks you through.

After an intense bout of vertigo, you end up in a massive, urban city -- completely different from the rural mountain palace that you lived in for the last six years of your life, and in this city, you don't know any of the language. You don't know what anyone is saying, you can't read any of the signs - you are completely stranded, away from home.

And then, to make things worse, you're facing a figure with a terrifying mask and eyes as burning green as the portal you fell through. Of course Damian's first instinct, six years old, is to attack. He's terrified.

And this figure, he's not a good fighter, but he's fast, and he dodges you quickly. He grabs your sword with his hands, and tries to restrain you, saying something in a language you don't know. Naturally, Damian is just scared. He's six! He'd just be learning how to read if he was normal child going to school.

This figure halfway through the fight yanks off his mask -- he realizes you're scared -- and looking at you now, is a youthful version of your father. This is a clone of your dad, someone you have never met but, six years old, still wants to. Damian gets defensive. This is an imposter.

But this imposter eventually gets you home with him - and he's using his little box, his phone, to communicate with you through a mechanical voice speaking in arabic. and it's frustrating. The boy, the imposter, can say whatever to you just fine, but trying to talk back is a hassle and a half. He's six, he doesn't have that much patience.

He wants to go home.

And so he keeps trying to run away. He keeps trying to find out of this hellish concrete jungle, and he keeps getting lost. It's loud, and busy, and there are people talking to you and you don't understand them, and there are rules and signs you don't understand - Damian tries to cross the street and nearly gets hit by a car. He doesn't know how the road signs work, he was never taught. They didn't get to that.

And he gets lost. And it gets dark, and Damian is brave, but he is six, and this is the worst stress he's been under in all his six years of life. He wants, desperately more than anything, to go home. Why wouldn't he? The only stable... semi-stable environment he was in just got ripped out from under his feet, literally! He wants his mother.

And it's not happening.

But there's something good to be said, at least. The imposter that looks like his father always comes and finds him, no matter what. He could have left that morning, and he will find Damian at midnight, frazzled and worried, and carrying an extra jacket with him because it is cold in Amity Park and Damian is six years old.

And sometimes Damian attacks him - he's scared and stressed and he doesn't want to be here. And every time he catches the sword. Even though Damian can see it cut into his hand and pearls of blood well up and stains his fingers. Even though Damian can see him wince in pain and bite his lip, he still catches it.

But with that little box, he coaxes Damian to come back with him. It's cold, it's dark, Amity Park is unsafe at night. They can figure something out tomorrow, please. And every time, he agrees, reluctantly. And the imposter takes the extra jacket he brought with -- a flannel, a hoodie, a jacket -- and he wraps it around him. It's warm, Damian's clothes are not that thick, and even though he thinks he might hate this imposter, he still sticks close to his legs as he leads him down the street.

And sometimes the imposter carries him, because Damian's shoes are not that thick, and he cuts his foot on broken glass while they're walking home. The imposter sits in the bathroom with him and carefully cleans the cut out, and makes sure it doesn't get infected.

There's hope you know, he still has it. His mother will be looking for him. She'll be worried. He's important to them. Damian may not be the original, but he is still a blood son. He is still her son. She will come find him. This nightmare will end soon. He can go home.

And then weeks pass, and nothing. Then months, and nothing. His family is not coming for him, and it hurts. Hurts more than anything. And yet while that happens, the boy he's attacked, and hurt, teaches himself arabic in order to speak to him. He takes Damian out of the house one afternoon and buys him new clothes, or tries to. And then he keeps buying him new clothes. He gives him blankets and gives up his bed to him until they can get him one himself, and steadily he teaches Damian english.

This boy is kind. Kinder than Damian's ever experienced, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He's devastated by the fact that he is not as important to his family as his family is to him. What do you do when you're six years old and you learn something like that? When a random stranger who looks like your father is kinder to you, and cares more about you than your family did?

And then Damian tells him he's a clone. He's Damian Wayne's clone, and he tells him his purpose - that their grandfather made him to kill him. And the boy, the imposter, Damian thinks he probably already knows that he's a clone. But he doesn't say that. He just nods, and asks him if he wants to tell his original about him.

Damian says no. He doesn't want to. He's tired of living in the shadow of his original. He wants to keep this to himself. This is his. For once, all of this is his.

And to his surprise, the imposter doesn't try and convince him otherwise. He just nods, and says okay. And when Damian asks why, the imposter - his brother - looks at him and says.

"I don't care about Damian Wayne. I care about you." And in Damian's gobsmacked silence, his brother continues. He tells him that if Damian doesn't want to tell his original that he exists, then they don't need to. They don't need to worry about the LoA going after him, because clearly if his 'grandfather' needs to make a clone of Damian in order to take him out, then whatever it was that Damian Wayne was doing to keep himself safe, was working.

"Wayne already has people in his corner, he's got Gotham's army of vigilantes to keep himself safe." his brother says with his eyes as blue as moonlight. "You, however. Do not." And he continues, and says that if Damian Wayne has the same training as Damian does, then he will be fine. He doesn't need to be aware of his clone. Because if DW doesn't know about Damian, then the LoA doesn't either.

And here's the thing. Damian would not have survived in the LoA for long. Not as a clone. No matter what, he was going to die no matter what he did, and sooner rather than later. The sword of Damocles was always hanging above his head in the League of Assassins.

That portal, and meeting Danny, saved his life. There's no way around it. And to an extent Damian knows this even at six years old. He may not be aware that he would've died, but he knows that meeting Danny was the best thing to happen to him.

It's no wonder after that, that Damian is as clingy to Danny as he is. Danny is the first person he's met to offer him unconditional love, with no strings attached, only pure affection.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #clone^2 #like god can you imagine how scared he must've been? how afraid? he just wants his mom - only to realize he doesnt even matter to her #dpxdc au #danny fenton is not the ghost king #this poor kid man. no wonder he latched onto danny the moment he gave up on the league like a leech. he's a six year old kid man and #it doesnt matter how smart he is or how mature he acts. he still is six years old. he still needs that validation and affection from adults #or from people older than him. and his emotional needs were just not being met in the league.#cue the song “two” from sleeping at last - some of their songs are very clone^2 honestly.#'sweetheart you look a little tired. when did you last eat? come in and make yourself right at home. stay as long as you need.'#'tell me is something wrong? if something's wrong you can count on me'#'its okay if you can't find the words. let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders'#'like a force to be reckoned with. am i the ocean or a gentle kiss. i will love you with every single thing i have'#'like a tidal wave i'll make a mess. or calm waters if that serves you best'#'i will love you without any strings attached'#like just. just *imagine* being in damian's shoes during all of this. he's *six* you guys. i've worked with six year olds and they're #pretty independent but they're still six. they get excited when they see their parents and they get upset when an adult is angry with them.#they're still developing their motor skills. they're still developing everything else!

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slutsareteacherstoo · 1 month ago

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I Hope Part 3 - Terry Richmond x Black OC

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

(I gotta get better at these tags, suggestions welcome!)

Summary: Terry finds himself a change of scenery to after the events of Rebel Ridge

Warnings/Things of Note: I made him cry 😭🤣 (idk i just feel like that’s important; THE MAN IS GRIEVING!!!)

Word count: 3K+ (3,093)

Author’s Note: Thank you for your patience. After I made my last post I was like lemme try and polish it, but then I added more and then i fell asleep. Been fighting sleep tryna finish this part. I dont like how this part ends because it doesn’t have all the descriptions I wanted but it’s part 3 complete and onto part 3. im also trying to not let myself not sharing anything because Imma be holding on it to it for who knows how long cuz life is beating my butt😵‍💫

So canonically, Terry was born in 1992. And they wrapped up filming in July 2022. A lot of folks have been using 30 for Terry’s age since thats how old Aaron is. And so i was like okay cuz in my mind this takes place a few months after Rebel Ridge and so i used the time period to my advantage and make it an important part of the story

So we are throwing it back a bit in time to start at the beginning of their story. I was rereading it like oh shit damn i did do something frfr but we gotta go chronologic for this to work.

It’s kinda proofread but i be missing words when i type (also its 2:30 in the morning so idk its probably mistakes in there) Comments and critiques are welcome 🤗

don’t do too much tho🌚 cuz apparently yall think you can talk to people anyhow on this internet.

Anyways. Enjoy. ☺️

Fall 2022

Terry was making his way to the library. He needed a place to charge his phone and to think before heading to his final destination to meet her. Sun shining, skin glistening with sweat and pedaling hard to the tune of metal, he focused on where he was going. And what his next steps would be.

He wanted something different. Something better. He was trying to be better. Someone new. He’d been out of the military for almost 5 years now. And for the past 2, he’d been trying to shed that skin. To cut those ties and be someone new. A man and not a machine.

It’s why he found himself not at home but more than 2000 miles away from it. Away from what happened some months ago. The grief he was holding was too much. The very much preventable death of his favorite cousin. The future he envisioned for the both of them and what was to come instead. The loss of camaraderie and brotherhood of his fellow Marines while also knowing he needed to get out while he still could.

With his desired destination now in full view, he eased his pace a bit, preparing to slow down and eventually stop. The music in his ears was coming to a crescendo when he finally got off of his bike. He pulled his blue backpack for the lock and began the short walk to the bike locker. He hoisted it upward to fit in the rack with the other bikes.

After closing the locker, he decided to take a swig of water while looking at the landscape before him. Body turned to face the direction he’d previously came from. He was taking in the urban landscape, a concrete jungle lined with palm trees. A different view from the country back home. After taking the moment to center himself, Terry decided to enter the library.

He was making his way through the sliding doors, being met with the building’s cool air immediately. And when the song he was listening to faded, a different melody came through but it wasn’t from his phone. It was someone speaking. A smooth and gentle voice that resonated with Terry strongly. The person was saying something about frozen food. He took his buds out, ear by ear, to see where the voice was coming from. Hearing it in fullness and clarity, the feeling of resonance grew inside of him. Almost like recognition.

“So when we’re shopping for food, it can seem difficult to try and eat healthier. The fresh fruits and veggies seem to be more expensive than other items. So it makes sense that we want to go for what’s cheaper. Especially if we have mouths to feed,” said the voice.

A chorus of agreement in yeses, yups, and mhmms came from the direction of the voice.

“That’s why I like to get some of mine from the freezer.”

The chorus sounded again in wonder, confusion and intrigue. Terry’s interest was piqued too. Since he was going to start figuring out all this for himself again, he might as well listen. He finally looked and faced his body in the group’s direction, standing straight with hands crossed in front of him at attention. And she had it. The group’s conductor captivated him immediately. He didn’t know why but it felt important.

Her hair was in low puff and covered by a magenta bandanna. Translucent lavender glasses were the gateway to deep, dark brown cat eyes, lined in black. Terry couldn’t help but be drawn in by their allure. Thin, gold oversized hoops framed her face and gave warmth to her deep brown skin. The rest of it was covered by a white mask with light blue straps.

That actually gave him pause. Was he supposed to be wearing one? Maybe he missed a sign, distracted by the captivating conductor. Performing a quick scan, he hadn’t seen one, nor many other patrons wearing them as well. He’d spotted maybe 4 or 5 people outside the seated group and conductor. Some wore thin, black and light blue ones. Others wore more sturdy-looking ones? People had them in different colors—white, black, pink green. Maybe he could ask someone for one or why they were still wearing them.

Terry was dedicated to listening. He really was. She was talking to these folks about trying to eat good while stretching a dollar. Especially because he was gonna be staying in this expensive ass place for a minute. He was taking in all the details. Including the woman’s orange crochet cardigan and the white ribbed shirt stretched over her large chest. The white shirt was tucked into black yoga pants, waistband showcasing her soft, round belly. At a certain point, she’d put her hand on her hip; the orange cardigan behind her elbow now showing her wide set hips and full thighs that clung to the fabric. The rest of the material flared out at her knees over white light brown running shoes.

Terry heard something about freezing cooked rice. Something something starch profile. But it was the woman’s that had him at attention. He couldn’t see behind her but…he was NOT supposed to be checking out this random stranger in a random place. Being captivated by a masked maiden or whatever, this was neither the time nor place but damn she was everything.

Terry had thought these thoughts were all in his head, until the library worker behind him cleared their throat loudly for the audience of the one and only Terry Richmond. He was blushing with embarrassment and mortification, turning to meet the worker behind him. He smiled nervously and hoped the apology in his eyes came through. So much for trying to better man.

“I’m sorry about that. Is there a place I can charge my phone,” he asked while adjusting his backpack.

The worker pointed in the opposite direction of Savannah and her group. “You can go over there.” The worker was wearing a thin, black mask so he couldn’t see the bottom half of their face. But the expression in their eyes made it clear that he could actually go to hell, needed to keep it pushing and do so expeditiously. “Thank you,” Terry peered down at the worker’s badge to see their name, “Casey,” and made his way to get some juice for his phone.

Terry found an empty spot at a desk, back towards the wall and face towards the rest of the library. He could see the place with a much wider vantage point, but the conductor from earlier now out of his range. He ought to feel ashamed of himself and he did. Terry shook his head and sighed. He took a few calming breaths. In and out. In and out. Feeling a bit more comfortable, he pulls out his phone and charger, plugging it into the wall. He unlocks his phone to look at the address saved in his phone for the hundredth time. As if he hadn’t memorized it by heart. One of his safe spaces. Being with her. Figuring out what he’s going to say to her and how everything will work when he sees her again for the first time since the funeral.

He plugs in the library’s address to calculate the distance between the two of them. It was only 37 minutes. Not too bad surprisingly. Although, that might change whenever his phone got to 100 percent. His auntie had told him to be wary about the traffic. That he should overestimate at least 30 minutes to 1 hour for wherever he wanted to go, because you never knew how far you’d be set back and you never wanted to tempt fate.

He couldn’t wait to see her again. It’d only been 3 months since Mike’s funeral. A couple more since the life altering events of Shelby Springs.

— - - -

The navigation on his phone alerted Terry that his auntie’s house was coming up soon on the right. He decided to stop the bike and walk with it to the front door. The closer he got to the familiar grey house, the more he

felt the dam of emotions begin give. He walked the bike up the driveway and set it between the garage door and the big truck. Stopping in front of the red door, he drew in a few deep breaths. He was trying to steady his nerves. Terry didn’t want to break down in front of the woman’s steps. At least not in public, he didn’t want to embarrass the woman. When felt ready enough, he rapped 4 times into the hollow of the white door.

Terry heard movement from the other side, and then the clicking of locks. The door opened to reveal a woman with golden brown skin and salt-and-pepper curls. She was wearing a green blouse with wide-legged white pants and brown strappy sandals. Her eye color matched Terry’s green-blue-grey. There was no mistaking that he and Taylor Richmond were cut from the same cloth. Upon seeing her, he hugged Taylor immediately. Terry was lost in the feeling of her, the smell of her—a signature brown sugar and cinnamon. It reminded him that this was a safe space. That he could be himself here—no questions, no judgement; no putting him on a pedestal, calling him a hero; no pity and no blame from others who weren’t there.

Her nephew didn’t even let her get a word out. Taylor only let out a yelp of surprise before embracing her nephew back and chuckling. His hold on her was tight. Good lord, this boy, she thought. When she heard the sob that ripped through Terry though…oh Lord, this boy. She pulled back slightly to get a look at him. His eyes were a sea of sorrow and ache. Even in this vulnerable state, she sensed relief in him letting it out. His frame was still slightly bowed from embracing hers. She held his face in her hands.

“Well, hello to you too. If you missed me that bad, you should’ve told me to pick you up at the airport,” she said with a raised brow and wiped his tears with her thumbs. That made Terry chuckle.

“Hi, Auntie,” he said, “And I’m sorry. I didn’t want to put you out.”

“Terry, you’re literally staying in my house for God knows how long. And you’re my nephew. I’m not braving that traffic to the airport for just anybody,” Taylor said with a furrowed brow.

Terry turned his head from his auntie so he’d have space to roll his eyes, mostly at himself. Taylor caught him though. She lightly tapped him in the center of his chest with the back of her freshly manicured hands, bangles ringing in unison.

“Now, you stop all that and get in here,” Taylor said in a mocking tone.

“Yes, ma’am,” Terry obliged with a few nods, wiping at his eyes again for good measure and tugged on his backpack straps.

He followed his aunt and crossed the threshold of her home, making sure to remove his shoes before he ventured further and placed his backpack down. Taylor was making her way to the kitchen, where he guessed she was earlier before announcing his arrival. Terry took a moment to admire some of the living room. It had a grey sectional with a maroon throw blanket draped across its back. The walls were decorated with photos of his family over the years, his auntie and uncle in different places around the world, a photo of him and Mike as kids playing in the front yard caught his eye. He walked toward the picture and reached up for it. He ghosted his hand over the frame and glass and stared at it in awe and remembrance. Terry felt his aunt’s gaze on him before she spoke.

“I remember that summer clear as day. You two were a menace with those water balloons,” Taylor said, the sounds of wooden spatula hitting the edge of a pot rang through the space.

Terry looked over his shoulder at his aunt, a look of disbelief with a hint of mischief behind it.

“I wouldn’t really say menace,” he said, trailing off a bit.

“Please, the neighbors gave me and your uncle hell over it,” Taylor exclaimed, pointing the spatula at Terry through the view space of the breakfast bar and upper cabinets, “especially because you got a lot of the other kids involved in that scheme. An entire summer, you two planned that out,” Taylor said shaking her head, while returning some spices to the cabinet.

“Well, you told us to make friends and that’s exactly what we did!” Terry said with a laugh, quickly turning back to the wall to return the frame. The laugh left a smile that brought wrinkles to the edges of his eyes. Taylor was happy to see it. It was a genuine one. And she missed seeing it on her nephew’s face.

Taylor playfully rolled her eyes and gestured for Terry to sit counter.

“Come over here and wash up. I know you’re hungry.”

Terry bounced over to his aunt, joining her in the kitchen and washing his hands. He reached up and across for plates and utensils from muscle memory. Terry waited for his aunt to make her plate to then make his own (she wouldn’t let him when he offered). He opened the fridge for 2 bottles of water, and balanced them with his plate and their utensils. He then went to join her at the dining table.

After a quick prayer over the food, the two dug in. Terry groaned in satisfaction and appreciation. He missed good food like this. He could cook himself, but a big part that made the food good was that his Auntie Taylor put her heart and soul into the food she made; and did every time but he felt and knew she made this specifically for him.

“Thank you, Auntie. For the food and letting me stay here with you for a while,” Terry said graciously.

“Of course, baby. It’s nothing at all. It’ll be nice to have another person ‘round here,” Taylor said with her fork in hand, using it to emphasize the space they were in. “And besides, I’m not gonna be the only one in that kitchen. All them years working with Mr. Liu and Ken, I know you got some good meals in that brain of yours. And you’ll also be buying groceries. Lord knows the last time you were here, you almost ate us out of house and home.”

“Okay. So, rent and groceries. I can do that,” Terry agreed.

“No, I don’t need your money for rent. You keep that.” Taylor said firmly

Terry stared his aunt down, but Taylor Elise Richmond was better. So Terry stood down.

“Yes, ma’am.” he said lowly, scratching the back of his neck. He hadn’t said it under his breath, only accepting his aunt at her word. She was a reasonable woman but a staredown with her would always be a losing battle, a lesson he’d learned spending many summers here in her home.

“Now, you’ll stay in the backhouse. I put fresh sheets and towels down for you,” Taylor began. “You can enter it through the gate by the driveway. It’s got everything over there, except washer and dryer.” She stood from the table and grabbed a set of keys from the counter. “These are yours. Please do not lose them.” Terry nodded at her.

“Hmm…let’s see what else am I forgetting?” Taylor said tapping her pointing index finger against her chin. “I can’t think of anything else right,” Taylor added as she turned head to the kitchen clock.

“Oh shoot,” Taylor exclaimed. “I gotta go drop a plate of food to my neighbor.”

“Here, let me do it. I’ll clear the table and make the plate,” Terry offered after getting out of his chair and began do what he said. “I know you did a lot, preparing everything for me when I got here. So I got it.”

Taylor sighed at herself mostly. Her nephew was a persistent and she was a bit tired.

“Okay,” she relented, leaning against the counter with her hands up in mock surrender. Taylor watched as Terry put the leftover food in a plastic Tupperware container. He removed the pots and pants from the stove and placed them in the sink to soak.

Terry rounded the corner to meet his aunt at the counter. He picked the keys up.

“So, which way am I going?” he asked her.

“Just right across. It’ll be the house with the red flower decorations,” Taylor responded.

“Thank you,”

“No, thank you.”

Terry headed to the front door with the food in hand. He set it down quickly on the entry table to put on his shoes.

“Oh, one more thing,” Taylor went to meet him up front. She reached for the first drawer of the plastic chest nestled under the table and pulled. Returning to a neutral position, she placed a black face mask on the lid.

Terry glanced down at the item.

“They sick over there or something?”

“No. Well, something like that. It’s just better for her, when we go over there.”

Terry nodded and put the mask on. Taylor unlocked the door for him and gestured to his delivery destination across the street.

“I’ll be back real soon,” Terry said, kissing his aunt on the cheek.

Now on the sidewalk, he checked both sides of the street for traffic before cutting across. He spotted the house with the red flower directions and knocked on the door 3 times. He heard a voice call out, “Coming!”. Terry was tapping his thumbs on the top of the container when he realized he forgot the poor neighbor’s name. His aunt had told him but it slipped from his short-term memory. When the lock clicked, he resolved he’d ask the nice, older lady.

The door opened and he went to introduce himself but he was stopped in his tracks.

“Hi,” the woman said. “You must be Terry?”

Terry nodded, “Yes, how’d you know that?”

“Your aunt. She said a nephew was staying over, that and your eyes. You two are definitely the same. Thank you for bringing this over.” the woman said. “And my name is Savannah,” she added, holding her hand out for a handshake.

It wasn’t just any woman. It was his conductor from the library earlier today. And now he knew her name.

Thanks for reading! Until next time😇

————-

Big big shoutouts to @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @earthchica @theereina @brattyfics @uzumaki-rebellion @sweettea-and-honeybutter @mymindisneverhere yall are fantastic your writing has shown me that i can push myself and im capable of writing more and like get in my craft frfr recently 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

#slutsareteacherstoo #atiya writes #terry x savannah #terry richmond #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black!oc #terry richmond fic #terry richmond fanfiction #terry richmond x black oc #rebel ridge fics

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palesweetscherryblossom · 11 months ago

Text

Surprise adoption

Warning: Mentions of violence, non consensual hypnosis and kidnapping.

Even as a young kid, the forest always creeped you out. With all the urban legends about monsters roaming around, hunters disappearing or ending up gravely injured, it certainly didn’t help your bias against it.

So imagine your horror that your older brother, Izuku wanted to take you on a little expedition in the damn place. You and Izuku were orphaned, but were generously taken in my Toshinori, head hunter and beloved icon of your town.

Whereas you preferred to stray clear from all the gritty things hunting entailed, Izuku was fully invested in it.

“I wanna go home, please Izuku?” You asked, hands tightly clutching your clothes.

The moon hung overhead, sounds of chirping from birds, water flowing through streams and crunching of leaves highlighted your surroundings.

Izuku looked at you, his hand reassuringly patting your H/C locks.

“Don’t worry Y/N! Just one more thing and then we can go back.” He said, handing you the lantern.

You frowned as the two of you walked on. One thing Izuku noticed was how pungent the air was over here, it reeked of venom and rot. He cracked out his notebook from his satchel, quickly writing it down. “How weird.” He muttered, you huffed.

“Izuku, it smells over here.” You whined, visibly cringing at seeing a rabbit’s skull.

“D-do you think we might be in naga territory?” You asked, Izuku’s breath hitched at the possibility. Ah, naga. Fearsome creatures with deplorable reputations to boot. Half man, half serpent.

Toshinori once recounted his encounter with a naga once, who was bold enough to attack him head on. Long fangs, red eyes that rivaled rubies, shaggy blue hair.

Many legends circulated about this particular naga, especially about his thirst for destruction and murder. Izuku looked down at you, a friendly smile on his face.

“Probably not, it’s probably just some poisonous frogs or something. But even if it was, I would never let them hurt you.” He assured, you felt a little better.

“We’ll sock them in their faces and skin them for boots!” You announced, Izuku nervously smiled.

“Probably not sis.”

Another notable thing about naga is how some tended to hunt at night, at least Tomura Shigaraki did. The most feared creature in the jungle, by man and beast alike.

It didn’t help that he was accompanied by his equally violent and dangerous mate, Dabi. A alluring, handsome creature but equally deadly.

Blue and black scales slithered across the floor, as the two searched for a late night snack. “Seriously Tomura, I don’t know why you insist on doing this at night. It’s too damn late for this.” Dabi complained, Tomura regarded his mate with a mere look.

“The big and juicy rabbits tend to come out at this time of night. Besides, those stupid, fucking hunters drive away our larger game.” He said, sniffing the air.

Dabi shrugged, his mate did have a point. Possums, sloths and the occasional taste of human flesh wasn’t cutting it. “I thought that those dumbasses would take the hint from the last time.”

Shigaraki gave a raspy chuckle. He really outdid himself that time, they still had the chunk from the hunters leg in the den! “You’re quite the sadistic bastard.” Dabi said in a loving way.

“Which is why you mated with me~” Shigaraki taunted, nuzzling Dabi’s face before narrowing his eyes and sniffed the air again.

“What? What do smell?” Dabi asked before sniffing the air himself. Humans, filthy humans. Shigaraki loathed them, Dabi loathed them.

The two followed the scent, eventually finding themselves in a tree, spying on you and Izuku.

“Oh, it’s Toshinori’s brat.” Shigaraki hissed, his rattle shaking slightly. His hate died down a little once he saw you, clutching onto Izuku’s hand as he gave you some facts.

Oh, how you looked utterly adorable to him. Shigaraki and Dabi had been wanting some hatchings of their own, as nagas tended to feel that way. “She’s precious.” Dabi muttered, a paternal spark igniting in him.

Shigaraki nodded, turning towards his mate. “I’ll go greet our guests.” He said, slowly slinking into view.

“Well now, it’s a hunter in training!” You froze at hearing the raspy voice, Izuku flinched as well. He turned around and was met with the sight of the naga. “GAH!” Izuku yelped, nearly dropping his lantern as you gave a yelp.

“Now now, there’s no need to be scared.” Shigaraki said, Izuku frowned whilst you hid behind your brother. “I’m a friend, always eager to assist with a weary traveler.” He assured, his red eyes looking at you.

You whimpered and hid behind Izuku. “Aw, what’s a little cherub like you doing out so late?” Tomura cooed, Izuku cleared his throat. “Back off, we don’t need your assistance. Besides, we all know what you really want.”

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed, Toshinori sure knew how to raise a stubborn brat. “Oh? Would you mind telling me then?” Shigaraki taunted, inching closer to Izuku.

Their noses barely touching. Izuku could smell the venom from Shigaraki’s breath, he remained firm. “Tsk, tsk, so stubborn.” Shigaraki said, his tail prodding at you softly.

You yelped as Izuku stood protectively in front of you. “L-leave us alone!” He snapped, Shigaraki didn’t flinch, only giving an amused look.

“You must be so tired, let me fix that.” The naga purred, inching closer from his branch perch. Izuku instinctively stepped back as you hid behind your brother. “No need for the fear fawns, you’ll fear as right as rain once we’re through..” Shigaraki assured, his voice raspy yet sweet. Like candy covered poison.

Shigaraki had a variety of powers but his most useful one was hypnosis. Often used to ensnare his victims into a state of calmness. It was his method to use if he was feeling lazy. Izuku stepped forward, a dagger in hand. Oh, how naive was this poor boy? No worries, Shigaraki and Dabi could make it right.

Izuku attempted to speak but nothing came out, his body felt heavy, all thoughts of resentment, escape and fear slowly melted away. It was like he was trapped inside his own body. His mouth felt unusually dry, like it was stuffed with cotton. Yet, he felt nice? Oddly relaxed even. His joints went relaxed and posture was lazy, his legs felt like jello.

“Izuku?!” You cried, tugging on your brother’s clothes. “Zuku!” You helplessly whined. Shigaraki frowned before inching closer, Izuku couldn’t hear you. He stumbled around like a newly born deer before ultimately dropping his weapon and almost collapsed to the floor himself. If it wasn’t for a black tail with horrifying purple scars, which caught him with ease, it wrapped around your brother’s torso. Much to your horror, you attempted to run but Shigaraki tripped you and swiftly coiled his tail around your ankle. The flaky and rough scales dug into your skin, causing you to whimper and wince at the pain.

“Don’t worry fawn, he’s alright and soon, you’ll be too.” Shigaraki said, quickly ensnaring you in his power as well. You weakly fought back as your defiant words withered away into weak whines and squirms. Your body eventually succumbed to Shigaraki’s control, your vision hazy and eyes droopy. “Zuku..” You muttered softly. You wanted to go home, the smell of the venom and dirt made you sick.

You craved the crisp vanilla and poppy smell of Toshinori’s manor. To be tucked into your bed, surrounded by the comforts of knowing that the monsters couldn’t get you.

“Aw, my sweet hatchling.” Shigaraki crooned, picking you up and cradling you. He nuzzled you, obviously excited to bring you to his nest. Dabi joined Shigaraki’s side, a lazy smirk on his face.

“She’s quite precious.” He mused, kissing Shigaraki’s cheek. “But, what about her brother?” The two looked at Izuku, who was still in Dabi’s grip. The black haired male frowned. Izuku kinda reminded him of someone he desperately wanted to forget. Shigaraki handed you over to Dabi before taking Izuku in his own grip. He regarded his mate with a devious smile, his fangs on display and crimson eyes filled with satisfaction and plotting.

“Well, you know what they say, two is always better than one.”

You and Izuku should’ve stayed home

@thecuriousquest

@messedupcookiejar

@yanderefangirl

#platonic yandere #yandere mha #yandere shigaraki #naga shigaraki #naga dabi #yandere dabi #izuku x reader

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