#And the search got worse every year but it was still functional you know??

[kyouka-supremacy]

Does anyone know where I can find the good quality version of this image? It's so frustrating because when cross searching on google it'll tell me the original quality is 850x478, but I can't find a way to download it in that quality. This is another version of the image (I'm guessing it's Mayoi promo art):

But I liked the clean white background one...

[cereusblue]

https://gofund.me/96bce824

Hi, all. So, I've had a day from hell and I'm too exhausted to re-explain on another platform. But here, I'll copy paste the story here. TLDR at the bottom. If you can't help, pass it on. Literally everything helps. Love you all.

Good day all, thank you for stopping your busy day to check my page.

Let me lay out the situation as best I can.

First off, some background for myself and my family. My fiancee and I only have(had) one functioning car between us when we took in a family member of his in an emergency CPS case. We are trying our hardest to take care of her and teach her how to be a person, but our schedules and only having one vehicle has made that a struggle. She has gotten a job just last week and is working hard to get on her feet. It's great and we are very proud of her! It's part time for the time being while she learns how to manage finances and how the world works.

However, since October things have started taking a turn for the worse. Between my fiancee and I, we both worked minimum wage and in October I bent over to put on a shoe and my back made a horrible crack noise. I went to the ER in immense pain and despite having insurance, I still got dumped with a hefty bill that to this day I am still trying to pay off. I have gone through physical therapy as requested by my doctor, since he didn't want to operate on someone of my age. However, it did nothing but agitate the problem. While I can now move around again, bending over and lifting anything past 15 pounds is strenuous. I'm in pain every single day and even sitting up is difficult most days. I can't stand up for long anymore before it becomes too much on my back. But things continue to happen, as they do. I was set to come back to see my surgeon this year but on Dec 29th in the last hour of the day, my job decided that an AI system could completely take over my job and laid me off. Getting unemployment as well as answers back from my previous work has been very difficult. My benefits were cut off with no chance to refill medications or see my surgeon. So, now my continued treatment to fix my back on top of my other health issues have all been put on pause. I've been working for almost two years now to get treatment and figure out what's wrong with my health, but I am now on a desperate search for a new job.

Which leads us to today. We are already strapped for money, and on a trip to an interview and my fiancee going to work, we got taken down a gravel road that looked deceptively fine. Driving across, the ice was far deeper than it appeared and it destroyed the grill, bumper, and wheel well (I believe that's what it's called) aka part of the frame that covers the front wheels broke and are hanging. That's not where it ends. So, I took the car to get it temporarily fixed so we could hopefully figure something out to get repairs done. The car got a temporary fix, and then I proceeded to take the car to pick up my fiancee from work. He and I began our drive back home, and as we were passing train tracks a doe jumped out into the road way too close to us. She only came into view as she appeared in the lights of the car, immediately getting bodied by the car. As you can see from the image, she destroyed the hood of the car and much more. I feel horrible for the poor thing and I hope she went quickly, noticing the fur and blood on the front bumper. We managed to get the car home, but the check engine light came on. This car is a Toyota prius. Anyone who knows anything about a prius knows they are basically tin cans. So, the worry is that the cooling system is busted now too. This will exponentially increase the amount we need to pay to repair the vehicle.

The worst part is, is that this is the only car we have to go to work and for me to go to interviews. I do have a car, but it's not in running condition right now. The poor thing is a 1999 and needs some parts replaced that we have not had the funds or availability to get a list of parts and have them replaced. The car also can't move anyway right now and would need towed. The prius is our only vehicle we have, and I don't have the funds to drop on fixing it. Insurance won't pay for it as far as we have been made aware by the body shop because of the type of insurance we have.

So, this is the current estimate we have to work with in regards to repairs. The entire front, hood, coolant system, and I know a few more pieces need replaced. The prius can run and be moved to a body shop at least, but paying for it will be a nightmare. If he can't get to work, we are in major trouble. My fiancee, his little sister, and I all rely on this car for work. While I'm still looking for work, I'm very limited because of my current physical state. We've spent a lot of money on my Healthcare already and every day are worried I'm going to reach for something and have my back crack again. While we are working on Medicaid, these things are proving a slow process. They also don't cover previous medical bills when I did have insurance. So, our only choice is to live off his income currently while I'm on a search for a new job every day. Our lives depend on this one car. Especially since we live out in the woods and work is 40 minutes away.

If you've read this far, I appreciate every single second of your time. Every single hand this gofundme goes through will be a huge help. If you can't help, that's okay, please don't stress your own financials if youre in a tough spot. If you can pass this along to anyone you can, that would be more than enough. Thank you again, and I wish you all better fortune this 2024.

For those who can't read the whole thing;

TLDR; Me and my family are already going through a lot of financial troubles with my health and being laid off, our only mode of transportation is severely damaged from an unmaintained roads massive pothole and hitting a deer in the same day. Three people rely on this one vehicle for all our jobs and interviews that are far from home. Donate if you can, if not, please share and thank you so very much.

Also including another picture here for you all to see. Thank you all again, I wish you better fortune this year.

[deadboyfriendd]

I want to talk about the Munson name.

Okay we know that Eddie’s dad wasn’t great and he talks about “living up to the Munson name.” This insinuates that a handful of other family members are also troubled. This could also explain why he ended up with Wayne because Wayne could possibly be the most stable adult in his family.

From my own experience with living in a small town, and also having a last name that people spit more than they say, I can say that that shit wears on you and you eventually just fall into the expectation until it becomes a really shitty stupid cycle of wanting to be better and wanting to say fuck it and just live up to the expectation almost to the point where you’re proud of it. Where every time you do someone that lives up to that name, there's almost a pang of pride that overshadows the guilt of doing whatever it was that you did and when your parents sit around at whatever family function and those same family members laugh and ruffle your hair and pat you on the back you feel almost like they're proud of you and like you belong to something.

For the majority of my teenage years, I wore the burden of my last name like a hand-me-down coat. It was my source of comfort. When I got sloppy drunk in someones empty pool in the middle of the desert, when I got so high that my friends flipped and called my adult boyfriend, and when I got arrested, I felt that pre-worn expectation set by my grandfather, great uncles, and father. Every fight, every party, and every dangerous situation that made for a fun story. I wore my parents' disappointment like a crown. I wore the crazy like a badge of honor, until it became a shield.

I feel it in my bones now as an adult. I feel it in the way that I’m horrified that I’m still alive and having to think about why I am. I feel it in the way I still want to search for that rush when I can’t keep my mouth shut and I say something that would probably land me in HR if my coworkers cared enough. I search for it in my parents living room when I push my mother’s buttons until she says something I’m satisfied with. I still search for it when someone equates me to my grandfather, but now it comes with a certain dread attached to it. Now that I know better. I hate what I’m turning into and I’m scared that I will get worse.

I know that Eddie feels it. I KNOW because I get it. I know riding the high of the fight and the confrontation and the absolute low that comes after. That ickiness of it all.

Eddie and I are not so different. I just happened to get out of it. I just happened to skate by on luck alone.

[fj10gaa]

"The Abominable Wall" (Post Canon)

Reposting my fic on AO3

Ship: Shigadeku

Rating: Not Rated

Word-count: 6286

Additional Info: Aged-up, incomplete fic

In a world where the league of villain was defeated by heroes, Deku is going to interview Shigaraki who is trapped in the Tartarus.

One day in the last September,

Cold rain was constantly pouring from the deep gray sky.

The War between the league of villains and heroes ended that day.

There were so many casualties in the battlefield including civilians, heroes, also villains.

I——Midoriya Izuku was badly injured during the battle as well as other people.

Most of my bones and organs seriously messed up, and didn't function without help.

Uraraka told me "The doctor said to me, you may not possibly wake up this time.", when I woke up in bed at the hospital.

She was crying so hard.

Too many things happened around me, so I can't believe that I got my normal life back even now after almost one year the day.

At the same time, we can not forget that there are so many people who  can't be back to normal life even now. 

the reconstruction of the city which has turned into a mountain of rubble is still on the long endless road. 

It's not necessary to say but the trauma that people in the city got is also a huge problem.

That's why we——heroes go to the city every day, to help them.

Heroes helped build some temporary homes as soon as they heard people say "there's not enough place to stay".

Heroes took the initiative to help clean the debris in the wake of the war.

Heroes listened to their suffering, and considerate of their feelings.

U.A. students are also joining the volunteer everyday as a part of class.

Recently I saw many people in the city were laughing during the volunteer work,

so it must be due to their efforts.

Meanwhile, speaking about Shigaraki who is a crucial person of this story, a searching party found him falling down under the rubble.

His body was exposed to the rainwater flowing down through the gaps in the rubble.

About half of his body was crushed because of the impact he got during the battle and the weight of the rubble. 

He was bleeding badly and losing his body temperature.

Every member of the search party thought “He doesn't breathe.” but it was not true.

He was still shallowly breathing for better or worse even though he's under the condition like that!

Of course he was immediately taken to the Medical Prison nearby. 

Because he had to survive.

Because he had to atone for his sin.

Most people didn't know what happened to him after that because of media restrictions.

But they know 'Shigaraki is still alive in the cage'.

However I've asked Tsukauchi Chief Inspector once when he visit me in the hospital "how is Shigaraki doing in the prison"

Mr.Tsukauchi told me just “you have the right to know about him”, then he started talking to me.

Tsukauchi said, Shigaraki slowly but surely regenerated his crushed body to its original state, with help of his recovering quirk.

After a few days of coma, he woke up and muttered in the first word, "I lost."

Tsukauchi also said he has seen him just once when he joined with the surveillance work.

Shigaraki looks like he's not right here.

There was no "king" there anymore, it was just a man.

The fact of his survival made people badly agitated as a matter of course.

Some people were delighted at his survival and the opportunity for conviction they had.

Other people hated his survival and screamed, "He deserves to death."

When I was in the hospital, I would often watch TV shows blankly.

I remember every TV station was having a heated debate about Shigaraki himself or the penalty for him.

The painful voices of the surviving bereaved families and the images of the disaster area that turned into the horizon, which were inserted between the intense discussions, made the discussion even more enthusiastic.

I was also spending time thinking about him while I was watching those TV shows, because there were no other things I could do.

And I got my own answer with plenty of time and a head that didn't work well with sedatives.

No matter what he did, he cannot make up for it.

It's true that many people agree that Shigaraki has an obligation to atone for his sins in some way but I have a misgivings that I can't ignore.

For example, if he was put to death with the will of the people, for example, if he was put in prison until his death.

I wonder if that will be a solution.

No matter how he compensates, the lost people never come back, and their broken hearts never are restored to what they were after all.

So what will it be for?

Perhaps the reason I feel this way is because I'm a hero.

Maybe it is because I think of people who couldn't be saved or who were left behind every time I finish my mission. 

I cannot stop doing it even though I know it’s not good for me.

So if there is any compensation for the sin Shigaraki made, I think it's about knowing how serious his sin is.

Knowing the feelings of those who have lost something important……

He may have lost that heart a long time ago, though.

It was in the midst of such turmoil that his Tartarus transport operation was carried out.

Aside from many speculations about him, police and psychiatrists who saw him as Inspector Tsukauchi said his mind tentatively was broken. 

And They decided to transfer him to Tartarus as soon as they were fully prepared.

He was in a well-equipped medical prison already.

But we needed to make assurance doubly sure  before it's too late and something happens.

The reason why the start of the operation was delayed a little was that many of the heroes with sufficient ability had not healed their wounds completely at this time, and in addition to the lack of human resources associated with the transfer. Besides, It took a while to fully consider the possibility that Shigaraki was pretending to be in a state of mental loss.

And I was also involved in this Tartarus transfer operation.

All the other heroes were worried about me.

people thought I might still feel a bit under the weather.

But I didn't have any other way but to participate in the operation from the beginning.

I felt it. I heard my heart said.

Or maybe I just heard the memories live in OFA whispered to me.

 “I have to watch him to the end”

Needless to say, the transfer of Shigaraki was originally planned to be done confidentially.

But worst of all, the date was leaked from somewhere, so the transfer operation was getting more tense.

Despite various regulations on the day, a lot of media rushed along the roadside on the transfer route to relay the state of his transfer.

Media-related helicopters are flying with military helicopters,

The roar of the spinning blade was pouring down from the sky.

But it wasn't just the media that was paying attention to him.

The roadsides on both sides of the transport vehicle were filled with many onlookers and victims of battle.

They were throwing stones and drinks around them at Shigaraki in the transport vehicle.

but we’re heroes, so there is no way to point our quirks to citizens.

We were silently carrying out our operation so as not to see them.

I was right next to the transfer car with Shigaraki.

I heard their overflowing grudges echoing  all over the area.

......but it is not the only thing I heard.

The sobbing voice that is sometimes heard in the hustle and bustle, and the voice that loses everything and is at a loss and asks for help.

People's various thoughts, voices, and curses were layered on top of each other, and the heroes in the operation were overwhelmed.

Nevertheless, we managed to get the transfer vehicle safely to the underground entrance inside the Tartarus facility.

The transfer vehicle stopped at a predetermined position in front of the carry-in entrance.

While being held on both sides by two of the most large members of the operation, Shigaraki Tomura got off the transfer vehicle.

Shigaraki, who was tied to a wheelchair, wore a white straitjacket with lots of belts, and a blindfold on his face. 

His hands and quirk are sealed with a box-like shackle.

A scar on his slightly visible face that would not have healed with his super-recovery, as if covering the original scar on his mouth —— was strongly left.

He hung his white head without force and sometimes staggered.

From the appearance, the effect of the sedative prescribed for transfer was clearly seen.

At the same time, I felt like “He’s no longer the one I know” just like Tsukauchi said.

And it made me have mixed feelings.

While thinking about that alone, I was observing Shigaraki in a wheelchair passing by on a white concrete background, from a distance.

Then, guess what?

It is unbelievable but he looked back at me for a moment!

In fact, I don't know if he was blindfolded and was looking at me.

It was just a momentary event.

But at that moment I was staring back at his bright red eyes that would be under the blindfold,

I certainly felt that way.

After that, Shigaraki turned to the direction of travel as if nothing had happened, and disappeared into the depths of Tartarus with professional heroes such as Endeavor.

A few hours later, the operation was successfully completed with a general communication saying "mission completed".

Despite the relief of the participating heroes completing the operation and chatting, I couldn't feel like joining them...Because of him.

Even now, a few days after the transfer operation was completed, I keep thinking about Shigaraki in agony.

I sat down on the bed in my room which was filled with All Might merch.

leaning against the wall, and holding a pillow instead of a cushion, which made me feel a little calm.

In the lonely room, only the sound of the continuous rain hitting the ground echoes.

It reminds me the day our war ended, not to forget him.

The air in the whole room is cooled by the cold air from the outside that leads through the window, and it helps to cool my thermal runaway head.

Why did he look at me back at the time?

In the first place, I don't know why he cares so much.

I don’t even know this is just curiosity or fear.

When I was troubled by his red eyes that didn't disappear from my head, I got a phone call.

I hurriedly picked up the cell phone that was lying on my bedside.

Confirm that the name of Inspector Tsukauchi is displayed on the incoming call screen,

I slid one finger on the screen in the direction of the response.

"Yes, this is Midoriya."

"Hello, Midoriya-kun. This is Tsukauchi. How's it going?"

"I'm fine. How about you? Um, that is...what happened at this time?"

I’m uncomfortable when people pay mind to me, so I asked frankly.

"You are quite perceptive, Midoriya-kun! That makes this much easier...OK, actually, I called you today because of him......Shigaraki Tomura."

I felt the blood drain from my face when I heard his name.

"What happened to Shigaraki? Did he run rampage? Who was injured?"

I asked him a lot rapidly and one-sidedly because I am upset.

"No no no! He's so calm unimaginably. Just hearing isn't going well. He doesn’t talk about anything or he doesn't even make eye contact."

"... So, did he make any request?"

"yes, yes indeed... and that's the problem."

I’m feeling the voice of Tsukauchi-san is a little hesitant.

Tsukauchi-san sighed a little and said as if he had decided.

"He wants “you”, Midoriya-kun."

My heart pounded when I heard the words.

And the doubts I felt that day turned into conviction.

That day when there was a transfer operation, that day when I saw him with my own eyes for the first time after the battle.

Shigaraki Tomura did not just look back for no reason.

Despite being blindfolded, He was certainly looking back at me.

My unlucky heart, which has gained incredible conviction, pulsates unpleasantly quickly,

My right hand holding my cell phone was trembling from tension.

Sweat oozes slowly and unpleasantly on the cold palm.

"He said, he just  want to talk to you."

I was trying not to face my curious mass of anxiety inside my heart, and I was just trying to pretend to be calm.

The inspector keeps talking, knowing or not knowing the tension that ran to me.

"Given the history of you and him, I know it's not a good idea to obediently grant his request. I'm also worried about your mental burden of confronting Shigaraki. you know just———— ”

"... There is no other way."

The best solution is often the easiest one.

Shigaraki knows or not, or is it our fate.

I am forced to decide to confront Shigaraki Tomura again.

Inspector Tsukauchi-san went on to explain how his hearing—which could be called an interview—goes on.

There is only one subject I have to ask him is “his mind”...like motivation for this large-scale criminal terrorist act, including his past career.

In the explanation, the inspector suggested to me that he would probably offer some sort of deal...also the police have no idea what the deal is like.

"but, Midoriya-kun."

The inspector continued:

"In my experience, when a person who has done such a big thing instinctively feels the end of himself, there are roughly two types."

"what are those?"

"Yeah, the first one is a guy who rampages up to the end of their own life, trying to reach a spectacular and big end! And the other is to realize his end and suddenly want to pour their heart to somebody.so they begin to confess. Shigaraki Tomura was undoubtedly the former one at first, but I think it's different now. "

"How come?"

Certainly, as the inspector said, he showed no sign of resignation even though they became inferior, or rather, he was rampaging at the final battle.

"Now, He has known he was defeated. It means he has truly known his "end", so he might want to look back on his whole life. and I think it’s good. Maybe he’s trying to be human once again. "

"he does?"

I ruminated to bite the words of Inspector Tsukauchi inside my mind.

"Well, it's just my opinion," said Inspector Tsukauchi, but he is reminded that he is an elusive person who suddenly becomes convinced at such times.

Inspector Tsukauchi said he wanted to start hearing as soon as possible, so the first visit will be carried out this Saturday.

This Saturday, I have 3 days left, including today.

I will spend time left for me thinking about "what Shigaraki wants from me".

By the time I finished the conversation with Inspector Tsukauchi, the gray scenery that was dim due to rain clouds was completely covered in darkness.

The mobile phone shows that the time was around 7:30 pm.

"I have to have dinner-."

Somehow I want to eat katsudon on such a day.

I get a bright sky blue hoodie casually hung on my bed head.

The chilled room air also cools the fabric on the surface of the hoodie.

The coldness makes me goosebumps a little, but it's still better than nothing.

At the foot of the bed, I pulled out my  wallet from my yellow school backpack, which was casually placed on the wooden floor, and I left my room to head to the cafeteria.

While thinking about hot katsudon.

When I headed to the cafeteria, other classmates were already in the middle of eating.

If you take a deep breath, the warm air created by the cheerful voice and the delicious smell of rice will accumulate in my lungs, where the cold and heavy gray air has accumulated. .. I picked up my favorite katsudon and looked around looking for a seat.

"Deku-kun !! over here!"

Uraraka-san, who found me holding a tray with a bowl of katsudon on it with both hands, stood up and waved toward me.

hurry, but I walked there carefully so as not to turn over my favorite katsudon.

 As usual, Iida was having dinner with her at the same table.

Today's dinner seems to be a stewed hamburger set meal for Uraraka and a grilled saury set meal for Iida.

"Midoriya-kun, what happened? It was quite late."

Iida-kun, who had been unraveling the white fish, stopped his hand and

look at me through his glasses anxiously.

"Are you sick? Oh, but katsudon...looks like you have an appetite at least. that’s good!"

Uraraka-san also was trying to read my face.

She’s worried about me and looking into my face with her eyebrows go down.

These two people immediately notice my change and worry about me from the bottom of my heart.

I'm really happy about it, but now it has become a source of problem.

The matter of his listening is big to hold alone, but it was too heavy a problem to talk to someone.

"Actually ... I fell asleep when I was reviewing my homework in my room!"

Is there any sleep mark? ——I didn't want them to worry about me, so I laughed.

"No! I think it’s OK. but hmm, then you have to go to bed earlier today, Midoriya-kun!"

"That's right, but I have to work on my homework before I go to bed..."

"Uraraka-kun...!!"

The topic shifts from me to something else.

whew I got through it.

I don't want to be pulled back to the heavy atmosphere, so I tried to pay attention to their conversation more.

it went like this…

Uraraka-san talked about the experience when she went to the disaster area after school to help remove the rubble.

She also said she was happy because an old woman gave her a Dorayaki at that time.

and It wasn't just a dorayaki, it was chestnut dorayaki! she said to me with delight.

Iida also tells us that he went to the disaster area and played with the children in the temporary housing.

He thought that kids these days only play video games, but it seems that he was relieved that kids loved the good old play such as tag you're it or hide and seek.

While listening to the story, I tried to eat the bowl with one bite, and another bite.

Katsudon, my favorite food, which I usually think katsudon is the food that the concept of happiness has become food, is somewhat oily and sticks to my stomach today.

It seems that they are planning to go to the disaster area to support activities after school tomorrow.

Uraraka-san  is enthusiastic that "Tomorrow will be the time to clean up that area!"

"That's the spirit, Uraraka-kun !!", Iida says.

I still feel a burning discomfort in my stomach.

Even so, I continued to eat and finish my katsudon one bit by one bit, and the inside of the bowl finally became empty.

"Sorry I've got to go. Maybe I'm feeling so sleepy... "

 I said like that, but actually I was feeling sick.

Also, I needed some time alone, so I tried to leave the table.

what happened to me today might be more shocking than I thought.

My body reveals discomfort as if to warn me that I keep pretending to be calm.

The unstoppable sound of rain reminds me of that day of the decisive battle.

"It can't help being sleepy. but laying down right after eating is not good for your stomach, so you should go to bed after you take a break."

"yeah, and don't forget to brush your teeth!"

Iida-kun  showed his white bright teeth and laughed. Uraraka said to him "you’re like a mother!" and laugh.

Iida-kun who received it also returns "You too". 

Looking sideways at the two people laughing happily, they greeted with a smile, "OK! Good night." 

And headed to the tray return with the tableware that I had finished eating.

The tray return is a moving lane, and I placed the trays as straight as possible so that they wouldn't get caught in the middle.

"Thank you for the meal.", I called out to the cafeteria staff on the other side of the lane and looked back toward the exit trying to return to my room.

However, a person interrupted me trying to take a step toward the exit.

“Yo, Deku. we need to talk.”

“Kacchan…!”

my childhood friend with an unprecedentedly moody look stood there, in front of me.

and he is the one who I don't want to meet most right now.

because this childhood friend is such a person who could see through everything I’m thinking. 

I have to do something about it... 

while I’ve posed in thinking, he has finished  putting his rugged arm around me in a twinkling.

He’s trying to bring me somewhere else.

The strength of his hand which is holding my shoulder tells me the fact he’s not gonna let me go at all.

“I know you have some time for me, right?”

“OK,OK! but where are you taking me, Kacchan? ”

“Your room.”

He answered my question shortly. He’s still restricting me with his arm. 

“What-, now?! it is too sudden!! Did I do something wrong to you?”

“...yes, you did.”

“What is it?”

Even while doing so, the eyes around us were so painfully gathered toward us.

Oh, is there a quarrel?

Bakugo again?

Should we call a teacher now?

Finally, I was impatient with the curiosity and worries of the people around me, and I had to do something quickly.

However, the ruthless and pitiless childhood friend Kacchan made the fatal strike on me.

"Hiding something."

"...from me." He said with a smile on his face of a bully who had recently disappeared.

My heart made an unpleasant huge noise with pain.

Today is my worst day ever. I think I'm out of luck, today of all days.

I don’t think Kacchan found out about Shigaraki’s interview of course.

but I feel his words sound like confidence for some reason.

I squeezed the hem of my clothes because of the tension caused by the unexpected event.

And Kacchan didn't miss the gesture.

Oh no! --it's already too late when I think so.

"Huh, That’s it! That habit, you haven't made any progress since you were a kid. Thanks to that, I can know everything about you!"

I cannot match this childhood friend after all.

"If you don't like it, you can come to my room, I'll let you choose."

"In my room, please."

I’m doing what Kacchan told me, I’m following on the heels of Kacchan.

but he is still holding my shoulder with his arm.

“Kacchan, I- I’m not gonna run away from you...so, can you move your hand now?”

please, I ask for him to unleash me.

“Don't even think about it” Kacchan said like that, and he put his hand away from my shoulder.

I felt my steps in the dormitory corridor were heavy as if I were walking to the execution table step by step.

If I'm a sinner climbing the execution table, I wonder if Kacchan is the executor.

The actual destination was my room, though...

Because I know what's going to happen after this.

What did Kacchan say to me first when he heard about the situation around me?

“Are you that stupid?” 

Of course, it must be like this. I knew it.

"Don't you know? Then I'll tell you the situation, Shigaraki Tomura went to Tartarus by us, forever. Happy ever after! so, do we need to do anything more now? Definitely, NO. It’s over, Deku.”

Kacchan, who sits on my chair with his legs and arms crossed, leans against the backrest of the chair without looking away from me, who sits on the edge of the bed.

The chair makes a squeak every time he leans against the backrest.

“But...”

“There is no "but"!! What you're trying to do is completely complacent and totally unnecessary. And what happens when you go to see Shigaraki? No matter what he does, he’s just gonna be preyed on you. "

...Kacchan is totally right, It's so much that I cannot even make a noise. 

Katchan didn't give me any way of escape. 

And in fact, I don't even think there is such a thing for me.

"That's right, but I feel like I have to go see him-- !!"

The next moment I was saying back.

Kacchan looked a little surprised at me, who unusually shouted, but immediately he told back to what I said.

"Is that your intuition, or is the memory in your power making it so?"

"I, I don’t know. but I feel like I need to know more as a hero, about him."

I managed to answer back to his question. and Kacchan listens to me.

"And if there's a sign that Shigaraki is still plotting something, I want to pull that out of the conversation. Because I don't want to cause such a terrible event again. so, Kacchan. It's not such a bad thing."

I persuaded him while squeezing his right hand, which was distorted by his wounds, with his left hand.

"Why are you always like that?"

Kacchan leaned forward while he’s sitting and said to me with a face that "he has had enough of".

He brought the chair and him close to me and kept talking.

"I think you know, but this is for sure. You'll definitely feel like shit by going along with his farce."

Katchan leaned back on the chair with momentum to return to the previous pose and said so.

"Yeah, I know."

"Really, you don't need to go."

"Still I need to go, Kacchan."

I looked back at his red eyes with determined eyes.

Silence flows between Kacchan and I staring at each other.

"...Deku, Don't talk to him in vain from you. you know, 

tantalize him up and let him talk."

"Kacchan ---!"

"And don't lie. You're seriously bad at lying."

"Yup!"

"Finally, if something happens, tell me."

"Thank you, Kacchan!"

I  was so happy to have such a friend-like conversation with Kacchan.

But after a few seconds Kacchan said, “I’ll listen only in my spare time.”, though.

Even so,I felt his rustic kindness saved me as always.

When I realized it, the heavy feeling in my stomach had gone.

Satisfied with listening to the story for a while, Kacchan stood up and muttered "I'm going to go to bed" and left my room.

The unpleasant rain noise that bothers me has turned into something strangely calm.

Katsuki who left the room stopped for a moment in front of the door of Izuku and muttered.

"Deku, you're always like that. You’re not satisfied until you have saved everyone...

  ...Are you really going to save even him ?"

Katsuki's question disappeared into the cold air of the corridor without an answer.

I walked through many layers of the wall in the Tartaros, and the door of interview room, there was ‘him’.

*

I felt like Clarice Starling from ‘The Silence of the Lambs’. Even though there was no criminal who yelled at me or tried to scare me out, but just a long empty hallway without sound and color. Also the person who was waiting for me is not a crazy man-eater psychiatrist, but just Shigaraki Tomura, who is a broken man with a powerful quirk.

“Excuse me, how much longer will it take? I believe It’s been almost 3 hours since I left the mainland...”

I couldn’t stop asking a staff guy, because I was completely tired of walking on the evil disney land with anxiety.

“Sorry kid, it’ll take a bit longer. Because he’s one of the most dangerous men in this facility, so we need to go down deeper. Say goodbye to the sunshine before we get on the elevator.”

“got it.”

I stopped to complain and just got back to follow after the swingy tail of the stuff guy. The staff guy said “We’re almost there.” when the beep sound of the elevator announced to us that we have finally arrived at ‘his’ floor.

“Over there, the door in front of you. Do you want me to come inside the room with you?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine going by myself. ”

“He looks harmless than before but be careful, nobody knows what the man will do.”

“Thanks, see you later!”

I waved my hand to the fluffy guy and looked back to the door of the interview room. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath slowly, then said just one thing in my mind like said it to myself.

There’s one thing I should do, talk with him and complete his personal file.

that’s it! There's a surveillance system in the room, restraining devices on him. I said to the camera on the ceiling “Open the door, please.” A man’s voice came from the speaker. That told me ”you have 20 minutes.” Soon, the door opened for me. The next moment I froze. There was ’him’.

His dry hair was wavy and white like whitecaps in a winter day, His skin was pale like a vampire and it looked unhealthy, His eyes bright red as I can see from the distance, and those were surrounded with wrinkles His wounds around his mouth and right eye ripped and got wider. He wore the same white straitjacket when he got a transfer. I can't see his hands, but I could tell from how he was sitting in the chair that he probably wore the same restraints too.

-oh, gosh.

At first I thought I can handle this by myself but once I entered the room and stood in front of him, I discovered I had no idea what I should talk to him about. Of course I simulated a thousand times in my brain but how he stared at me blew my mind. There’s just a glass board between us but It won’t make me feel safe.

He, Shigaraki Tomura started the conversation while I was freezing by the door like an idiot.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in! Midoriya Izuku! It’s been a long time, how have you been?”

Shigaraki crooned my name with his joyful voice. He beamed with delight like he met his old friend who couldn't see him for a long time. What kind of feeling are you having now? I was totally confused.

A year ago, I certainly fought against Shigaraki for my life. Whatever reason he was our enemy and hurt a lot of people including my friends. I was confused by the absurdity I couldn't swallow. Because Shigaraki pretends to be peaceful, as if to leave behind my feelings. I clenched my fists to hide the sweat that had exuded in his palms. I couldn't grasp his intention too much, and I was watching his expression from the entrance of the room, without being able to answer anything. He looked really like a "normal" person. Shigaraki and kept talking to me.

“Hey, how much time has passed since then?”

His gaze like a snake was clinging to me and It was enough to keep me shut up. If he is a snake, I would be a poor rabbit who left 10 seconds until dead. The only thing I heard in the moment was the pounding sounds of my heart echoing in my ears so badly. I’ve heard that the number of times our heart beats for a lifetime is fixed. If that is true, It was not like I was feeling I lost a few years off my life, no, literally I was losing a few years off my life or I could say he stole my lifetime. Anyway it seems like I kept him waiting too long. He asked me again.

“Hey, tell me how much time has passed since that day. My sense of time is off because my room has no window...”

“Please,” he added so. He begged me to give him an answer.

shit- I should answer it…

I opened my tense and stiff chin and squeezed my voice to screw it through.

"It's been about a year since that day."

My voice, which I forcibly uttered, was faint as if I hadn't made a voice for a long time. My saliva got dry in my mouth. It stuck to my throat when I tried to swallow it down.

"It's been one year…hmm, Not much time has passed more than I imagined."

A day in an empty cage must feel long for sure. I imagined him just staying there without doing anything in a room without windows every day, and I felt sorry for him a little. Then I thought of his sins again and I shook off my dumb thought about him.

“You don’t have to be nervous that much! Look at me, you know I can’t lay a finger on you! I don’t wanna do such a thing in the first place… anyway, here. Have a seat!”

As prompted by his voice, I approached the white chair in front of the glass board, step by step. He kept talking.

“Let’s have a nice chat, Midoriya. It’s like we’re...”

“We’re like old friends?”

“Exactly.”

I said so when I noticed. I said as if I was tracing his words that day when I had a conversation with Shigaraki for the first time at a shopping mall. I sat on a seat in front of him and stared back at his bright red eyes. My back fits snugly against a mysteriously designed backrest with holes.

Shigaraki tilted his head a little to affirm my words. He narrowed his eyes in an arc with joy. His pure white hair swayed as he moved.

"But the both of us aren't good at talking to others, so let's set the rules."

"Rule?"

-Did it come-? I got ready and waited for his suggestion.

"Don’t worry, it's really simple. There's only two things. you ask me a question, then I’ll ask you a question. Both of us can pass 3 questions so make careful decisions...hey, It's a good deal for both of us. I know you came here with a purpose. "

Asking me something can be his price? Do I even know the answer to the question he will ask? What is his question in the first place? Various possibilities filled my mind. However, it is a strange story, but it would be helpful if he answers my question.

“...Ok, deal.”

“Good. oh, and, don’t lie to me.”

“I know. so I’ll ask you. Why do you want to see me?”

“hmm, I see... you wanna get straight to the point. but also it’s a totally proper question...”

Hmmm, Shigaraki twisted his neck. He looked up at the ceiling to the upper left, then looked down to the right next time. Then he turned to my face again and replied with a smile.

"I'll pass on the question."

"What?! you'll pass on a question right at the beginning?! You're the one who told me to make careful decisions!! "

"There are a few questions I don't wanna answer and you just chose it. Ok, so now it's my turn...Why did you feel like coming here? you know you're gonna feel uncomfortable."

"Look who's talking."

"I have nothing else to say about that. and? Will you tell me your answer or..."

"Fine, I'll tell you...so I came here because the police are concerned that your plan B might happen."

"Interesting... you guys are so smart and so wary, aren't you? hmm, but it's a shame that you came here not for me but for the police."

"... of course not."

"But you don't look so...I believe you didn't have to come here. The police would have been sent to a detective or someone else instead of you if you had said just no. But you didn't, right?"

"That's...true. But, I don't know, I might be feeling responsible for you. Probably, I might think I should see you through to the end."

"Is that a marriage proposal?"

"No, that's not what I meant to say!"

He said that with his serious face, so I didn’t know what he was talking about at first. Then I understood what he said and I blushed like a red rose. I felt He found my face flushed and stammered. It seems like that was enough to entertain him. He was smirking like a cheshire cat. It was so embarrassing to me.

"My bad, I'm just kidding. I know it's a kind of feeling, the feeling you won't feel at ease unless you kill a bug when you find a bug and lose sight of it in your room, right?"

"I didn't say that much."

"Then you should, hero."

There came a beep sound between us. the announcement said "It's 20 minutes, you have to get out of the room." Shigaraki just said “I’m waiting here.” when I looked at him. so I just said “Okay” and left the white room. I didn’t feel like saying “see you again” or something to him. He is not my friend.

Got back to the hallway and the fluffy guy came up to me and said “Are you okay?” but I could say “I don’t know.” at that time. After that I went outside of the building to see the sunshine.

[woetoy]

Anon art human again, I mean finding views or just acknowledgement for you art, I'm broke and either way wouldn't feel right blazing the nsfw stuff I draw but it gets no traffic or notes. Idk leaving an ask was impulsive but I really respect your art and was curious how you got your followers, if it was more a waiting thing or you found the right areas to post.

I dunno, it probably takes patients to get attention but finding motivation to make good art and then getting nothing but emptiness and boredom at the end of the process isn't motivating lol. Anyways Im thankful for your response and apologetic cause I got this trigger instinct to just blurt my questions to the cool artist I found on tumblr, and I'm sorry for bothering you so

No worries, I just felt bad that I didn't understand ya!

Getting noticed depends on a lot of things. I've had several accounts through 12 years spent on this site, and this one is the first that kinda popped off!

Do you make art that has crowd appeal? As in, is it a little silly, cute or relatable? Does it have a story behind it besides looking pretty? Is it attached to a fandom? Are you making stuff for an underrepresented niche? I often see people make something that is technically impressive, or their personal best, but it doesn't get shared too much because it lacks that appeal. It sounds harsh, I know, but it happens to me too. Until recently, my most popular piece was a doodle I banged out in an hour - just how it is, but I'm happy it resonated with people! You can have a look around at what other people post and see which posts of theirs do better or worse as well.

I don't follow the rule of posting at specific peak times, or posting every day. But I do try to tag stuff appropriately. Tumblr only uses the first 5 tags from your post in the search function, the rest you use for categorizing for your blog. So if you're starting out, it really is a waiting game until someone notices and shares your stuff, unless you have a buddy that can boost you.

I come here to have fun, I make art for me and if other people like it - awesome! I don't really optimize that well for social media reach, I just have my characters and their little stories. I do my specific niche of porn/kinks that are fun for me to draw and talk about. It helps that I have a more solid art style now than I did when I started. Apparently I've been doing NSFW for the past 7 years, and early this year is when it took off on tumblr.

To counteract the emptiness, it helps to have friends to bounce ideas around with or to make characters together with. It's why I create, really. I do it with friends because that's what I find fulfilling. And then I feel driven to draw and post about it as well, and that's been true all this time for me.

I hope you can find fulfillment as well, I think it does come through sometimes if a piece was made for reach or from personal joy. I for sure see that in ancient fanart I've done, I hate those pieces. But the personal stuff that I did for fun is still cute to me, even if it did get at most 5 notes way back when.

Sorry if my thoughts are jumbled. But yeah, this is what I do and what worked for me. But it's always different person to person. Much luck in your endeavors!

[spacecadetspe]

A year ago today...

Mar. 9, 2023

I have been sore and tired for days.  I still can't carry my purse on my right arm, but I'm making the attempt to function, nonetheless.

Morpheus approached me in the afternoon to check in on me, and said that Echidna borders on insubordinate, and asked if there weren't there any other "qualified, placable candidates" to run the nightmares.  I suggested Ikelos, or even having to return Phobetor to the role, but expressed the doubts I'd been having about my own qualifications for leadership...

Was this whole adventure just a waste of time?  An obscure, elaborate test?

"I'm not sure who to apologize to for all this mess," I confided.  "I dragged everyone into a rabbit hole...

Phobetor said he trusts me because I always realize my errors and make things right, but in the interim it's just you lot cleaning up the mess I made... waiting for me to realize where I fucked up."

I hurt everyone this time, Morpheus... and I'm so conflicted as to why anyone would support me."

I... don't... I don't understand what happened last night.  Because... what I came to understand was that everything I am... everything I do... it matters.  Even the fucked up things I wind up doing out of love."

And for a moment I wondered... No.  This whole time I wondered how I could be loved so completely... through everything."

He chuckled at me.  "Because I for one am in no position to judge..." he pointed out.  He got me out of bed and informed me of the goings on.

While Betelgeuse took care of Echidna in the forge, a conference was held to decide the future of her role with us.  I informed the council that I'd made a grave mistake in choosing an untested leader for them, and thought it best to let them decide on who should take over the role.  I extended my humblest apologies for assuming my judgment was better than any of theirs, and offered them the chance to make things right... with or without my involvement, as they chose.

Fortitude is quick to assure me that my vote has weight, but if I'm honest, I too am still on the fence.  The good things don't necessarily outweigh the bad.  It's a heavy decision to make, and I want to trust in whatever decision is made.

Echidna completed her processing and barged in partway through the meeting, and I volunteered to accompany her out into the hall.

"So... what now?" she asked.

I sat with her and puffed my pipe while we looked out at the night sky.  "Well, as I told Fortitude, you're a citizen of the Dream World, for better or worse.  We're not evicting you.  Your continuance as leader of the Nightmares is contingent on the opinions of the people in that room."

She thought about this for a moment.  "What does your instinct tell you of their judgment?"

"None of those individuals should be underestimated.  They have insights that surprise even me."

We were quiet for a while after that.  I had some time to reflect that Echidna had a few supporters behind her, including Phobetor, himself!  Her most ardent supporters are those who have historically been perceived as monsters, and I thought I could share that with her.

So I told her Cure's story:

"When I met her, the nameless product of Aphrodite and Hypnos' coupling had killed hundreds, if not thousands of Oneiroi, and was tearing holes in the reality between Chthonos and the mortal world.  Morpheus had called me to eradicate such a threat."

"What stopped you?"

"Oh, I didn't stop.  I killed her.

The thing is, Morpheus retains the memory of every dream ever created.  His mind is a library, and books can be 'checked out,' if you know the search parameters.  And Aphrodite did just that; she reached in and pulled her progeny out.

That entity would have consumed the newly-created Dream World, except that I saw a soul under all that darkness.  So I went in.  And I came out with a baby girl; Morpheus' firstborn."

We chatted for a while, but I ultimately told her that she did have people on her side, and that securing their trust would be of tantamount importance.

The deliberation lasted all night, and Echidna and I sat in for the verdict.  She didn't seem particularly thrilled to be there, but I told her (in the murmuring language of the ancients) that if she wanted to be a part of this, then she'd have to make an investment in it.

At the end of the night, we celebrated her return to power before spilling out into the castle foyer.  However, the festivities came to an abrupt halt when we saw a body crumple to the floor.  She was bleeding profusely, and had to be carried off on a stretcher.

From beside me, Echidna mumbled "I hope you're ready for this."

In mortal news, I explored a little more of my attachment style with my therapist.  Her educated assumption was that my parents' divorce had something to do with my codependency, which is honestly pretty plausible.  However, the more I thought on it, the more I realized that it stemmed from much farther back than that (not so far as to reach into my past lives, but still).

I left Germany when I was 7 or 8.  My father's reassignment came only months after I was molested, and I lost everything (this is where that awful rage came from, when I took down an entire team of dream gods and one of the furies).  I hypothesized that because I lost my connection to those I knew, I became quick to please and form attachments to anyone I thought would accept me.  To contrast that, I also took on the behavior of self-isolating, which in turn made me "weird."  Anyone who showed me kindness or interest became worthy of my affection.  This manifested itself more severely in my dating life, where I would go out with nearly anyone who showed interest in me, simply because it made me feel wanted.

However, in people-pleasing, I lost many of my boundaries and a lot of my sense of self worth.  And, especially with X, a big chunk of my identity.  Looking back on the people I dated, some of them were exceptional choices... and my traumatic experiences abetted driving them away... or allowing them to abuse me.

I think that's why, when Phobetor kissed me for the first time the other night, I was really confused.  I love him dearly, so don't misunderstand.  I wouldn't mind having him as a consort.  But the fact that he was so supportive and loyal and honest with me, in spite of all the ways I fucked up... all the ways I still don't know who I am...

I didn't understand.  And now... I'm less sure than ever about what I should do.

[ilaiyayaya]

Isolation Sucks, Man

So I mentioned it in an earlier post, but the last 3 years before the start of 2023 I was a NEET, and like, that was a horrible time. The long-term impact that period has had on my life is immeasurable, it completely ruined me to a point that I literally feel like a completely different person after. Most of my motivation to do pretty much anything during that time was completely gone, I used to do digital art, I almost entirely stopped that, a majority of my friends I just stopped talking and many of which I've lost contact with since then, the only friends I kept talking to were ones that just would not leave me alone (for better or worse), I didn't even really enjoy any of my hobbies, I still played some video games, but barely and more often than not it felt more like a chore than something for fun, like I was just doing it because I had to do something to pass time. It even affected the way I feel that I function on like a basic human level, my thoughts have become way more unhinged than they were before, I felt completely apathetic for pretty much my entire time as a shut-in, so it's become hard sometimes to even realize that I'm feeling an emotion now, let alone recognize what that emotion even is, I even feel a certain level of dissociation with myself from 4+ years ago, like a lot of my memories from my childhood don't feel like they were me anymore. In a lot of ways I literally feel like a broken person after that segment of my life, like I don't feel like I function as well as I should now.

CW: Don't read this section if you don't want to read some really depressing stuff involving suicidal tendencies. I was extremely depressed for a large chunk of the time I was a shut-in, to the point of even attempting to kill myself several times (it's surprisingly difficult to actually physically do btw). I was completely apathetic for almost that entire 3 year period, with the exception of the occasional anxiety attack, which made it exceptionally difficult to motivate myself to do anything that would help to get me out of that situation. Really the only way that I was even able to get out of it was through extremely slow progress, where maybe once every couple of months I would have like 1 day where I felt enough motivation to do something like job searching or working toward getting my driver's license, and then the very next day I would be back to normal for another 3 months. It was a nightmarish period of my life and I genuinely don't think I will ever have a time where I feel worse than I did then, and if I did I probably wouldn't live past it. I don't even remember much of anything that happened while I was a NEET, like I know I was miserable, and it was 3 years so obviously stuff happened, but if you were to ask me to remember something, anything that happened during that time, there's really not much I could cite, there's a few things, but not much, definitely not what should be 3 full years worth of memories. Like, I feel weird calling it traumatic, like it was literally just me sitting in a room and nothing else for 3 years, but the isolation literally was by definition traumatic, as much as I feel weird calling it that.

Luckily I am no longer a NEET, at the beginning of this year I got a job, which has forced me out of it and I'm doing a lot better. I'm still not perfectly back to normal and I would still consider myself to be in a recovery period, the effects of 3 years of near complete isolation aren't going to go away after just 8 months of course, but I'm at the very least not trying to drown myself every month anymore, so I've definitely made progress :)

This one took a really long time to write btw, if it isn't obvious I'm not especially great at writing personal stuff, I'm not the best at writing in general anymore as it's been years since I've really done any kind of significant writing. I don't feel I'm very good at conveying things, my grammar probably isn't the best anymore, and the way I structure things is all over the place, and at times kinda nonsensical, but tbh for these I don't really care that much. These have mostly just kinda been me writing my raw thoughts with very little refinement, and I'd like it to continue being just that, even if it results in these sometimes being completely incomprehensible for anyone other than me. Also I cut out a lot of stuff that I really wanted to include, even if it's really important because I'm either too afraid to say it publicly or just because I can't find a way to fit it in cohesively.

[yangestories]

MY SON WENT MISSING

My son went missing ten years ago.

I remember the morning we lost him like it was yesterday. I woke up before my wife did, only to find the front door open. Panic ran up through my veins as I went to check my son's bedroom, but Eric was gone. He was only five years old.

The police searched for months on end to no avail. There was even an amber alert for him. We put out hundreds and hundres of missing persons posters. A picture of Eric on his 5th birthday, wearing a blue and white checked shirt and a silver pendent around his neck.. There were numerous tips called in from different people, but none of them yielded anything of any value. I just couldn’t believe what was happening to us. How could the world be so beautiful yet so cruel?

My wife Chimweka, of course, was beyond devastated. She couldn’t sleep, and she barely ate. It got to a point where she was hardly functioning. If it wasn’t for me, I don’t think she would have survived the grief and gotten through it. I was her rock, and while she knew on the inside I was upset, I stayed strong for her. We couldn’t both break down, right? And thankfully I never lost it like she did. Not in front of her, at least.

“We will get through this,” I would say. "Do you think he's still out there?”

Chimweka paused before she answered, “I’m not really sure anymore.”

I don’t know what hurt worse, the possibility that Eric was alive but forced to endure some unbearably awful situation, or the possibility that he was gone completely, snatched away from us just like that. I didn’t like to talk about it, I shut my wife down every time she brought it up. We all grieved in our own way, I suppose.

Somehow, the hardship brought us even more closer. While this kind of loss would tear most couples apart, it only made us stronger. It was the way she was there for me, the way she picked me up when I was down. I made the right choice in a partner, she thought through it all.

A few years later Chimweka found out she was pregnant again. She was nervous, feeling as though she had failed once before. I reassured her that things would be alright this time around. I couldn't afford her having parenting insecurities.

“This time things will be different,” I stated as though it was a fact. She gave birth to another son. We named him Ericsson, after his brother. As our son grew up, I noticed there were odd similarities between the two. They looked so much alike, that they even had the same birthmarks on their cheeks. When I had pulled out a few of Eric's old toys, it was like Ericsson recognized them. He even gave his brown teddy bear the same names that his brother had. They also liked the same foods, loved the same cartoons, and would even want us to read the same bedtime story. We felt like we were blessed with a second chance.

Ericsson was closer to my wife than he was with me. I didn’t mind of course, it gave me more time to focus on my work to provide for them. I was present as a father, but I wasn’t really fond of ��babysitting’ as I would call it. To be honest I think the similarities were too much for me. Maybe it was just too painful. I didn’t mind it though. I know it’s very selfish, but I liked the fact that our second son preferred to spend all of his time with my wife. Once I had even offered to take him to the play park, but he refused. He wanted my wife to go instead.

Yesterday something very alarming happened. I took Ericsson to the play park. It had a large play structure which he enjoyed, and was surrounded by peaceful bushes, which I enjoyed. I watched as he played the same way Eric did when I used to take him there.

He was headed down the slide when a buzz on my mobile phone distracted me. I pulled it out and saw it was a text from my wife. She was wondering what we were going to eat for supper. I replied her quickly, then returned my gaze to the play structure. To my horror, Ericsson was nowhere to be seen. I swear I had only taken my eyes off of him for a few second.

“Oh dammit! Not again,” I whispered as I frantically began to search for him.

After running aimlessly through the bushes while calling his name, I finally found Ericsson. He was underneath a tree, and was digging up something.

“Ericsson!” I shouted as I rushed to him.

“Daddy?” He said as he turned to look at me.

His hands were covered in dirt, and he looked worried.

“What were you thinking coming out here?” I asked as I grabbed him by the shoulders, “Do you know how much you scared me, huh? You could have gotten yourself hurt, do you understand that?! Never run off like that ever again!”

“I-I’m sorry, daddy,” He frowned.

I hugged him and sighed in relief.

“What are you doing out here anyways?” I questioned.

He pointed his little dirty index finger to the hole he had started to dig. I raised my eyebrows curiously, and walked over to the shallow pit in front of me.

“Don’t play in the dirt, Ericsson,” I said.

“But daddy, I have to keep digging!” He exclaimed, “I have to show you something.”

“Show me what?”

“Daddy, just keep digging, you have to see for yourself. It’s a deep hole.”

I don’t know why, but I felt compelled, like I was under some obligation to listen. We stopped by the house, and grabbed my shovel.

“Do you want to stay here with mommy?” I began, “I’ll be right back okay?”

“No daddy, please don’t leave me here. I have to be there too,” he pleaded.

“Okay, okay, fine, but you need to stay right next to me,” I relented, “No running off this time, you really scared me.”

“I know daddy. I’ll stay close to you this time, promise.”

The two of us headed back to the play park. We walked through the bushes and found the shallow hole Ericsson had dug. I began to shovel at it right away. I don’t know how long it took me before I hit something, maybe it was a couple of hours. Ericsson did as he was told. He stayed nearby, eating the snacks I had bought for him on our way back.

I dusted off the hard surface I had struck moments ago, only to find something that was an off checkered blue cloth. I dusted away the dirt, until I could make out what I was looking at. There— in front of me was a child-sized skull. Beside it I saw something shining in the light. I picked it up to reveal it was a silver pendant, one from a set I had bought Eric on his 5th birthday.

“Wh— what the hell is this?” I stammered, “What the hell is this?!”

“It’s me daddy,” Ericsson started with a mouth full of crisps, “That’s where mommy left me after she put me to sleep.”

© 2022 Muyange Nsefu

Kindly follow my page for more of my stories @Nsefu Muyange

[daemosghost]

As someone who'd been unsupervised on the internet since the age of 3, it genuinely bothers me how this trend of adults just letting their kids go unsupervised on the internet just continues to happen.

For me as a child, things were already harder back then because most people around the world were still very tech illiterate when it came to computers, the internet, and the dangers that come with it. But even now where there's moderation on most apps and sites and the safe search function unlike then, it's still dangerous, honestly probably even more so than it was before, yet I've seen several times now children aged 5 and up with Twitter, Instagram and even reddit accounts, and people for nearly a decade now using their kids to gain attention and internet and not caring for the dangers.

Three times now I've encountered whole children on Twitter, these kids were around 8-13 years old and I guess they didn't do internet safety videos where they live because those kids had not only their whole age in bio, but also as their whole ass name and where they live and some even with what school they went to somewhere on their accounts and it's like why? Why is nobody watching what you do? And I get that you're literally a child but you should know the dangers behind at least telling strangers online where you live.

As a kid i learned internet safety and the dangers that come with strangers online asking for A/S/L, I just was like "whatever" for the most part and sometimes lied about my age. I used to hang out on anime sites that had chatrooms, I ended up, at the age of 8, making an account on Chatango though I lied about my age. I ended up being harassed and made fun of in the chatroom because most of the people there realized I was a child and also I broke their bot(that at the time for a bit I thought was an actual person) twice and they were perplexed by that. Then one day I decided to make another account but with my actual age, which was still 8 at the time, instantly people that were grown adults started messaging me, only one of which that expressed worry and that I should delete the account immediately, I didn't simply because I was told not to. Two encounters I remember was some creep in his 50s with his micro as his profile picture trying to coerce me into telling him I "liked what I saw", the other supposedly a white woman in her early 20s coetcing me into explicitly roleplaying with her. During that, I got caught by a family member who told my grandmother, instead of voicing concern of being preyed on by adults on the internet, they both were more worried about me being gay and nothing else, after that my view of them and most other adults became negative. It shouldnt have taken something bad to happen for me to realize just how dangerous the internet was for kids, hell I shouldn't have even been unsupervised in the first place or rather online at all.

I genuinely think that kids shouldn't be allowed on the internet whatsoever until around 14, while yes, nowadays there is actual moderation for almost every site, that doesn't mean moderation can work fast enough. Social media moderators literally get PTSD from the shit they have to comb through everyday every hour or so, they literally cannot keep up with all the messed up shit uploaded or the users that are self proclaimed pedophiles. It seems the pedo problem across all social media platforms have just gotten worse and like they've actively stopped trying to get rid of them unless people have big accounts and order users to go mass report. It's even more so dangerous on TikTok, especially with that 'favorite' feature that allows users to save videos to go back and watch later. People have started to notice that videos with children, especially young children often have way too many favorites especially depending on what the child is wearing or eating in the video, it's heinous and many of the creeps leave disturbing comments on such videos.

Then there's the porn issue, kids literally can't search up their favorite cartoon and characters without porn or vore showing up, viewing this can be incredibly upsetting for these kids to see. The people that make r34 of cartoon characters literally deliberately put the name of the show or character instead of tagging it in a way that it isn't easy for anyone to accidently see. On Twitter whenever I click on cartoons that trend, it literally does not take me long whatsoever to end up seeing porn of characters or the child characters from the shows and on Google youre most likely to come across foot stuff and vote then the porn, and bing? Bing is genuinely much worse, sometimes it will show you genuinely distressing, genuinely disturbing, or literally illegal things in the images or the "recommended" which I ended up being distressed from when I was fairly young.

It's literally traumatizing to be a young, unsupervised child on the internet and those of us who were unsupervised shouldn't have had to deal with all that, children shouldnt have to deal with that now, nor in the future

[novaviis]

sick!dick au. Bruce's POV. read in order here.

For most everyone else, it starts at the Gala.

For Bruce, it starts in a grey little office, with a stack of papers and a glitter pen.

Dick will confess after the fact to the fainting spell in the apartment he shares with Wally, and the months of progressively worse migraines, including an incident on patrol with Jason – and Bruce is none-too-pleased with that information being kept silent, but he picks his battles and this isn’t one of them. Still, looking back nearly everyone will unanimously agree that the night it really “began” was the Gala.

For Bruce, it begins when the social worker hands him a creased manila envelope. Inside is a birth certificate, a social security number, and an immunization record. Bruce looks through the contents of the envelope. Is this really it? Yes, he’s never exactly done this before, but he feels like there should be more. Guardianship of a child shouldn’t be reduced to three pieces of flimsy paper in an envelope. There’s a coffee stain on the corner. The social worker doesn’t really know what to say to that; this is just the way it is. She slides the rest of the paperwork across the table. Everything’s already been looked over by his lawyers, all he needs to do is sign. She pats her pockets, muttering to herself before bringing out a red glitter pen and sheepishly offering it to him.

Bruce is in his twenties. He’s impulsive with his compassion and he just witnessed another little boy watching his parents die. He knows he can give this boy what he needs. Or he’s going to try. But between the drive to bring this boy’s family justice and the need to heal a part of himself in the process, he’s somehow skipped over just how huge this is. He’s thought about it, of course, but always with the under current of doing whatever it takes to make it work. He was going to give the boy a home, give him the closure that Bruce never got, and maybe he’d save him from turning out like… well, like Bruce. Only now he’s staring down at Guardianship written in big block letters across the top of the stack, and it’s sinking in now that he’s not just taking the boy in. He’s going to be his family. And it doesn’t change a thing, his resolve doesn’t waver, because he knows he can give him a good life, but it’s that one word. Family. His family is starting out with a coffee stain, a stack of papers, and a glitter pen.

He signs the papers. Dick is already waiting outside with Alfred, who’s taken him to the small cafeteria down the hall. The boy hasn’t spoken much, in the days Bruce has taken to get to know him. Bruce had asked Alfred if he was like that – after. And Alfred had looked at him sympathetically, answered carefully. Yes, he was, in a sense. Bruce had been quiet. Shellshocked. Traumatized. But Bruce needs to remember that he had him, at least one steady presence in his life. Dick has no one. It’s going to take time.

It shouldn’t be so easy, Bruce find himself thinking over and over as they finish up. He tucks everything away into his briefcase, bears with the social worker smiling and shaking his hand and thanking him for doing such a good deed as if this is a charity stunt for publicity and she doesn’t seem to care either way. He asks again, just before he closes his briefcase, if she’s sure that there’s nothing else he needs. Report cards, keepsakes, family medical history, he doesn’t know. She shakes her head, all pleasant smiles. No, that’s all he came with – as if he’s a shelter dog. Bruce latches his suitcase shut.

Back then, it was just a passing thought. He doesn’t spare it another over the years, because he doesn’t need to. Time went on, Dick becomes an inseparable part of his life. Bruce will always silently maintain that Dick was the one to save him in the end. He’s not a perfect guardian, not a perfect father, and he makes more mistakes than he can count. They argue, they have fallings out, and still they always work through it – because they’re family.

And the issue of the family medical history does not resurface until that champagne gold night. Until he catches Selena watching him from across the ballroom, smiling behind the rim of her wine glass and cocking her head to tease him. Until, he’s distracted between secretively searching the crowds for her and forcing himself to smile and laugh with Gotham’s elite, so he doesn’t notice the commotion rising up on the other side of the room. Until his youngest son comes racing toward him through the crowd looking more scared and shaken than Bruce has ever seen him. Until he breaks through the ring of bystanders and sees Dick passed out on the floor, Wally kneeling over him beside himself with panic. Until the ambulance and the fury of the waiting room (making a mental not to raise absolute hell with the Hospital’s board of directors) and the doctor pulling him to a side room, a little grey office, to ask the dreaded question. All at once, it comes back to that moment, and Bruce sighs, scrubs his palm over his tired eyes. No, he doesn’t have Dick’s family medical history. It doesn’t exist. Realistically, it isn’t Bruce’s fault, but that has never stopped him from shouldering blame.

Selena reaches out in the following days it ask in on how Dick’s doing. Bruce is cordial, tells her that her concern is appreciated but Dick seems to be doing fine. And on the other side of the phone, he can hear her moving around her penthouse, maybe standing at the window – she’s glad to hear it. Let her know if he needs anything, if she can do anything to help. It’s early days then, and none of them know just how bad it’s going to get.

It’s a slow progression at first, and then it’s not. It’s months between seizures, a steady increase in migraines – but life goes on. It’s not as if Bruce is hovering every Dick at every second. He’s a grown man now, with a career and a home and a partner. Bruce supports him in any way he can, until it gets to the point that he has to make the hard call. The argument he has with Dick that night, in the study of Wayne Manor, is something he’ll never wash from his memory. He’s used to making the tough decisions. He’ll be the asshole if he has to, he can handle Dick’s anger, but he’s not going to allow him to take this much risk into the field. Benching Nightwing until they have a handle on this is a necessary call, but Dick is stubborn (who on earth did he learn that from), and unwilling to step down so easily. And as the argument reaches its fever pitch, Bruce pacing and ranting, listing off his rational, he hears Dick call his name in a wavering voice and it cuts through the background noise. Dick, the colour drained from his face, eyes unfocused, conceding that he’s about to lose this argument, will haunt him in the same way as the worst things he’s seen in the life he’s chosen. That’s the moment he knows that this isn’t just going to pass, the moment he bolts to catch Dick before he can topple forward and hit his head. This isn’t something they can wait out. He’ll never regret making the call, but he will always regret the way he put the pressure on Dick, as if he’d just made things worse.

The thing is, this lasts years. It becomes a part of all their lives – because it’s Dick. It isn’t all consuming, it doesn’t eat away at their thoughts every minute of the day, but it’s a resurfacing concern that’s rarely spoken about aloud. And Bruce sees how this changes his family. No one can say that the Wayne clan is the most well adjusted and healthy family, but Bruce does his best. He realises and appreciates now more than ever just how much work Dick put into keeping them all functioning. Keeping them together. He never thought he’d taken it for granted until then. It shouldn’t have taken this to bring the family closer together, but it does, and as much as Bruce hates that, he’s not going to fight it.

Time goes on. Still. It’s a slow progression at first, and then it’s not. Bruce is in a meeting with his chief executive officers when his secretary buzzes in over the speaker saying there’s a call for him on the line. He thanks her for letting him know and tells her to take a message. She says the young man is telling her it’s an emergency. One of the CEOs is about to launch into a presentation and Bruce doesn’t spare him a second thought. Picks up the phone, pushes away from the board table, and paces to the window. Wally’s voice comes through saying his name, shaken and urgent, rambling out sentences too fast for Bruce to hear.

Wally. Slow down. What happened?

He stopped breathing. Fuck, Bruce, he called me at work – sounded like a seizure so I ran home, but he – it didn’t stop, he wasn’t breathing.

That first night, after Bruce has sent his reluctant children home with Alfred, it’s just him and Wally left with Dick. The end of visiting hours is fast approaching. Bruce steps out to let Wally have his time with Dick, allows him some privacy. He eventually makes his way up to the terrace balcony on the upper floors, a green space with massive glass walls and an open ceiling. Fresh air for the first time in hours does wonders.

Selena is there. She approaches him from the other side of a low hedge, bundled up in a cashmere sweater and scarf – ones he bought her ages ago. When he asks how she knew, she smiles. She has her ways. Tim called her, didn’t he. Yeah, he did. They stand in silence for a while, staring out at the mosaic of lights against the persistent dark of Gotham, before she puts a hand on his arm. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, Bruce, she says, and the coy smile fades into sincerity. Come to me when you need to.

Three days after Dick is admitted to the ICU, Bruce calls Damian into the study. It’s late, they just got home from visiting an hour ago. They’ve been arguing a lot lately, before Dick went downhill. Mostly regular thirteen-year-old boy versus father arguing, but a few too many frustrated shouting matches in the Cave. Bruce can’t help but wonder if it’s in part because Dick hasn’t been there to act as a mediator. Still, the past few days have been quiet, if not tense. Damian complies when Bruce calls him down. He’s wearing a sweater he stole from Dick months ago, the bulk of it swallowing his smaller frame like a blanket. He has the sleeves rolled up, his hands in the front pocket, when he pauses in the doorway. Bruce gestures for him to sit across from him at the desk. He can see the way Damian is bracing himself for a lecture, wondering whatever it is he did wrong this time, as he takes his seat. Bruce, in his chair on the other side, watches him for a moment before deciding this won’t do. He stands, and pulls his chair next to Damian’s and pulls a file over from the other side of the desk.

Wayne Men are at a higher risk of Prostate Cancer as they get older. I get tested every few years. He tells him. My Mother’s side of the family, the Kanes, have a history of Crohn’s Disease. It’s prevalent in people of Ashkenazi Jewish decent. I’ve never had it, or had symptoms, so it’s unlikely that I passed it on to you, but not impossible. And when Damian stares back at him, he leans forward, presses his hand to his son’s shoulder. I want you to know these things, Damian. It’s important that you know your history.

And with any other child, it may have not been a good idea to have this conversation right then. Any other child may have been scared. But this is his son, and Damian is as frank and pragmatic about these things as he is, and Bruce knows that he will appreciate the honesty, knows that those questions have likely been rattling around in Damian’s head for a while now. They spend another hour that night talking about their family, beyond just medical history, and Bruce answers any questions Damian has.

Dick gets worse. Wally leaves to find answers. Bruce is doing everything he can; medical bills are nothing to him, he checks in on his children, calls in favours from the league to keep watch of Gotham when he’s needed at the hospital. It’s the most he’s ever relied on others in his entire life.

It’s just him in Dick’s room one night. He’s at the window when he hears Dick rasping his name. It’s been rare lately that he’s been coherent enough to really speak without being prompted, so he has Bruce’s full attention immediately. He crosses over to the bed, braces a hand over Dick’s. And Dick doesn’t say anything for a long while. His eyes are half closed. Bruce is close to assuming he’s fallen asleep, when Dick’s unsteady hand slides out from under his, and rests on top with a barely there squeeze. Dick is staring up at him. His voice his so quiet it’s almost drowned out by the monitors, but Bruce hears it.

Take care of Wally.

Bruce doesn’t waste time on don’t talk like that sentiments. He doesn’t tell Dick that he won’t need to, that he’ll be fine, because Bruce does not make promises he knows he cannot keep. He nods. He will. Dick doesn’t need to ask him to take care of the family, that much is an unspoken understanding, but if this is a piece of mind he can give Dick, it’s without hesitation.

He ends up at Selena’s door after visiting hours. She buzzes him in, and when she opens the penthouse door neither of them say a word. She guides him over to the couch, pours two glasses of good wine, and when she returns, he’s already got his face in his hand – not sobbing, not breaking down, just… exhausted. She isn’t sure Bruce knows how to break down anymore. In the end, she just sits with him. Rubs his back, tentatively at first, not sure if he’ll let her. Bruce not only does, but he shudders under her hand, allows himself to breathe with her, and it’s enough to let the pressure ease and the ache to come in. He allows himself feel to it.

Because that’s his son. That’s his first son. And he’s failed him.

Years from then, when this is all in the past, he’ll let it slip. It’s over a late night coffee with Dick in the Cave as they wrap up a case, near to the anniversary of the Dick’s surgery. Maybe it’s the string of late nights and no sleep wrecking his inhibition, maybe it’s something he needs to get off his chest. But Dick stares at him, goes quiet, sets down his coffee mug.

You did everything for me, Bruce. He says. You never failed me.

And, someday, Bruce will believe it.

[siriusmydeer]

Sirius x twin!reader where he runs away and doesn't say goodbye or anything, and they've always had a bad relationship because reader is like regulus and sirius is, well, sirius. baso angst where the reader is now ignoring sirius at hogwarts and sirius is trying to talk to her which is strange because before it was the other way round. she snaps and tells sirius how he knew what would happen if she ran away, and it was that she would get twice as many bad things to make up for sirius not (1)

the forgotten sister

sirius black x fem!twin!slytherin!reader

summary: sirius leaves you with aching despair the the faults that comes with being a black heir.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: child abuse, arranged marriage, angst, mentions of being imprisoned, mentions of death, mentions of violence, being disowned, mentions of death eaters, bad mental health, insinuation of depression, insinuation of a panic attack and bad sibling relationships

a/n: rate this cuz idk how to write angst but this has been sitting in my inbox for so long i’m so sorry

despair.

dejection.

guilt.

it was clear as day in your thought-stricken mind, without a second thought it ran thickly through your families veins for generations. every single heir of the noble house of black had the one ranging emotion of anything in a malicious, loathsome, vile and horrid context.

brothers, they were suppose to protect their siblings, love and nurture them above anyone else. they were suppose to kiss your forehead when you were sad, play with your barbies till they wanted to rip out their eyes because you had nobody else to play with, they were suppose to show another emotion than trepidation.

twins, the bond shared between them in unmatchable to any other sibling, they shared a womb for nine months, a direct bond, no seperation for nine months, thirty nine weeks, two hundred and seventy three days, a total of six hundred, five thousand and seventy hours together. a bond that should last a lifetime, of happiness, absentminded chuckles, homeliness, and love.

that’s what it should have, that’s how it should look in the peering eyes of anyone who had looked upon the similar featured siblings.

sixteen years, the only thing you had receiving in attempts of happiness, absentminded chuckles, homeliness, and love; but not everybody got what they wanted, in return you had received the raw sickly end of despair, dejection and guilt. what could such a young girl do to upset her brother from the very second her life begun? since the first weep that left sirius’ mouth, it almost felt like a duty ringing through your brain like a recurrent lullaby rather than a curse to be ignored by your family, and to only serve them when they deemed necessary for your forgotten presence.

rather than the lullaby on how a spider ran up a web, the only word familiar words in your brain since the ripe age of six was ‘crucio.’ the red tinging flare that sped across your living room like a jolt of lightening from the sky had just become a familiar sight to see at while your panic stricken figure strided through your house for just a few seconds more of peace.

dense words could be shared with your twin, not even a ‘good morning’ on most days. maybe a subtle nod when he first saw you as you both woke from your slumber if you were lucky, maybe even a sparing glance once or twice throughout the day. the first and last born female at the hands of walburga and orion black was simply ignored, a nobody, absolutely and completely nothing.

atleast sirius was there, he may not have spoke to you, or even looked in your direction but his presence in the dreadful household could’ve been enough, enough to put your blearing mind at ease for the night. that you had survived another day, that the next passing day his presence still comforted you because he was still there, that even though he didn’t protect you; he could protect regulus when he deemed fit, and as much as it put you in a absentminded agony, you appreciated his efforts to your youngest brother.

the following morning you woke up, his presence was diminished. his aura had vanished, the pungent smell of nicotine had left no trace on the stygian walls, the husk smell of expensive leather no longer enveloped in your ventilation and the irritating scent of his nose itching cologne was in absentia.

twin-tuition the muggles muttered, when two siblings who shared a whom could know almost everything and anything about each other without a second blip of thought. the walk to his room was excruciating, because in your heart his comforting presence had fled. the pink floyd and beatles posters had been torn from the walls, the mahogany wood from his drawers had been completely dismembered and his closet had been utterly ransacked.

he had left; he had left you.

that was the feeling of despair.

not even a note in his absence, not an explanation, not a second thought, sirius was gone; and sirius was not ever coming back.

the duration of the winter ‘holidays’ had seemingly passed slower than usual with the absence of your brother, the dismembering two weeks had finally been put on hold on your mind. finally finding the will to get out of your bed and put your mental health back to where it could’ve functioned at a less than normal way, the usual way. except you were sent back onto the hogwarts express only clinging onto the younger brother you had left, mind you he would’ve went off the second he stepped aboard but three seconds with your brother could’ve put you off for nine hours.

there was no will to try, no persuasive black ‘i get what i want’ attitude left churning in your system, the feeling of disgust trembling through your veins that your family would never accept you as long as you remained ‘y/n’ and not ‘y/n black,’ so you had to do what was right to protect regulus. because even though his nurturing feelings were inattentive, you would still do what was necessary to protect him.

if you weren’t the keen resemblance of your family you could’ve believed that you were adopted, having no will to become a follower of the dark lord, and no will to produce dark magic.

yet, you did what you had to do, an action that in no way would have been thought about for you; but you had what the other noble heirs lacked, compassion.

every corner you turned you had no will to search for the gryffindor brunette, your eyes didn’t erratically search for his searing silver irises, you didn’t attempt to decipher the red and gold colours from the green and silver that could’ve been crowded amongst the library, or the great hall. any will you had left for the receiving end of love from your family had utterly vanished.

that was the feeling of dejection.

sirius knew that prior years to hogwarts that you had rapidly searched for him in every single corner, mind you even there was a possibility he wasn’t there; you never faltered, you still gaped intently. it gave him the slight aching pain that he carried with himself, but the viridescent green you wore had him believing that you were simply no better than lucius malfoy or evan rosier.

it began to itch at his neck that you no longer had the need to know if he cared, if he was in the same room as you, if you even had the decree to call him your brother anymore. seemingly, you were always in between the walls of the library, a vermillion, maybe amber hued book sturdy between your hands in your grasp as you flipped the pages.

if you hadn’t shared the infamous last name, people would have never believed the two of you were what you called siblings, twin brother and sister. the epitome prankster, outgoing, and womanizer of hogwarts, the timid, skittish, quiet pureblood slytherin; and they just happened to share the same blood.

the female twin adorned reading, not because each book had different words carved upon its ivory paper, and not because there were hidden messages upon the words she so happen to enjoy deciphering but she loved reading partially because it allowed her to cry over someone else’s sadness when she could no longer identify her own.

her heart left sunken, submerged into somebody else’s misery because her own feelings enough weren’t able to bare.

he was silent for once, his mouth not barking up a laugh with his mates, he wasn’t sauntering around like he owned hogwarts himself, he was timidly walking into the depths of the library that were hidden from students. he was suddenly thoughtless, but his mind was not clear, and now face to face with the ghost of his sister; someone whom he had no intention to know, but now the wave of empathy ridden into his bloodstream as he saw the sudden tears glaze her eyes.

“you— you don’t look for me anymore. i noticed that, you don’t try and, try and look.” he started almost rudely, the first sentence he had ever uttered to his sibling was assumably how she didn’t care for his presence anymore. he was unable to produce many words at his shock, his nimble fingers anxiously shoving themselves into the grey slacks he had boughten for this years semester.

“i tried, at first. but you’re not worth a look anymore, sirius, because everywhere i go, the shadow of you is all i see.” as you contributed your words they only continued to be more broken, and stammered. the whimper in your tone clear as day as you spoke to someone you once called family, and now a sudden stranger.

“you left sirius, you left your sister, you left your brother. you left the people that needed you most because you’re selfish, you were thinking of you, not of us. so you don’t fucking deserve to be considered anymore, you don’t earn my respect on being thought about, sirius,” you were tired, achingly tired of fighting. you were tremendously exhausted of trying to fight for just a tinge of acknowledgments from your family members.

“you knew if you ran and you didn’t take us with you it would get worse, and you did it anyway. that makes you a coward, i guess the sorting hat does make mistakes after all.” you concluded, now wearied from your brother suddenly giving you the time of day when you don’t care to yearn for it anymore. his decisions affecting you single-handedly the most, your emotions no longer considering his aching feelings as his sister dismissed him at the similar treatment you had recurrently received.

“now i’ve got this penetrating, life altering ink on my wrist, because of your foolish actions. i have to pay for it, and a husband awaiting me. so now that you’re going all cry baby on me because i don’t try and find you anymore, you can stick your dreary where it came from because your damage is done.”

he had no thoughts, no words, completely ambushed. his older twin sister, someone whomst he adorned as his role model as a young boy, something he would never admit to as a child due to his stubborn nature, was now a death eater and profused in an arranged marriage because he couldn’t give a thought about his despairing twin. but now sirius had finally revived the raw end of the final emotion,

he had felt the emotion of guilt.

because even though he was trying to scoundrel some effort of empathy towards you the only thing displayed in front of him was the way your eyes spoke a thousand words but no one ever took the time to read them.

he never took time to read them.

“you need to leave— you need to run! w—why are you still there?” he started to hastily question as he peered at you erratically. his mind suddenly starting to boggle with questions as to why you would keep yourself in such a harmful situation, why you wouldn’t just run like he did.

it was simple to you, you weren’t selfish, you weren’t sirius.

“because i cannot leave regulus in that god forsaken house, the dark lord and his pesky followers would find me, and our parents would torture me, and murder me without remorse.” you finished, saying it too him like you had scribbled it upon a paper and practiced reading it every night like you were preparing for an exam, as if you would be questioned and persuaded to leave under the hands of your parents.

“i heard you— with regulus, you wanted to take him but not me. you almost brought him with you to the potters,” you revealed to the gryffindor, finally having the will to tell him clearly, on how he had wronged you in life and that there was absolutely nothing he could do to fix his actions.

“why do you never pick me sirius? why do you not want me as your sister? ‘ve always tried to protect you, why haven’t you done the same?!” at first your tone was monotone, almost dead but as your words continued your patience grew shorter and your rage grew larger.

your hand further having to clasp over your mouth by the end of your sentence before your classmates would’ve have gotten curious, and nosy at the altercation that was happening between the death eater and the disowned behind the shelves.

“i don’t— i don’t know, i just, s’different.” he was left thinking in confusion as to why he treated you differently, maybe it’s because you were the eldest, maybe you were female and in his eyes you possibly resembled his mother, maybe he had absolutely no idea as to why he treated you different.

“you dont— you don’t know? suddenly when i don’t give a shit about you, your yearning for your older sisters love. well guess what sirius, you’re not going to get it. your damage is done and there’s nothing to reverse it; so bugger off with your gryffindor mates, and your new family. if you want regulus to have a decent life from what he can live left, take him now before they take him too.” you concluded,

your first and last conversation occurring with your brother, several words left unsaid as you left him dumbfounded in the library, feeling the shoulder on shoulder collision as you left.

breathe in, breathe out. simple, again, again, again. the valley of tears were almost screaming at your waterline to let loose, to cry, to scream, to do something, anything. perhaps instead, you stood astonishingly still inside the girls lavatory, thinking, just thinking.

‘what did i do in my past life to deserve this now’ it was a simple and clear question, one that could never be answered, one without an explanation.

but yet you yearned for such a simple, yet complicated answer, maybe in another life sirius had the will to know you, your parents had the decree to love you, and maybe you weren’t sent down a path of affliction.

but that was another life, it wasn’t yours.

time went by, seconds, minutes, hours, weeks and years. they flew by, and now you were no longer that sixteen year old girl. you were eighteen, dressed in ivory with a small train at your feet, makeup painted on your eyelids, a small veil placed onto your head and your hands throughly squeezed in another’s; with the dreadful matching injected ink into your inner left fore-arms.

as the years had flew to that moment, lost was a lovely place to find yourself, but it simply wasn’t enough; it would never be enough. you had to wear the mask, ever noble heir of black had their own personal one, the one that covered every detailed flaw of you.

because after watching both of your brother’s, your supposed nurturers, your protectors, the ones that were suppose to love each and every bit of your aching soul left, you never realized how strong you had to be until being strong was your only choice that remained.

because in essence happiness is just blissful delusion, that esentially wouldn’t last forever no matter how exceedingly much you pleaded to merlin for it too last a second, maybe a minute if you were lucky.

but noble heirs of black weren’t lucky, they were cursed. and now you were finally brought upon to carry the tradition your children would be barred with, now carrying the last name of ‘dolohov.’

still remembering clear as day, like the sun was beaming into your viewpoint that one conversation you had shared with sirius in the library. the despairing love still left in your heart for your brother, your brother who stood up for regulus.

no matter how much they dismissed you as their protector, as their sister, as someone who loved them, you would always carry love for them in your trembling heart. after the amount of curses you took in their place, the screaming threats, the weeps from both of your brothers that stained your clothes, the times you had to face your parents in their absence.

you still had love for them, even if it wasn’t returned.

perhaps someday when you found the courage you crawl back home, beaten, defeated, maybe half dead. but not as long as you could remember the mark of family embedded into your heart, and your arm.

the noble heir’s of black, imprisoned, dead, and married off.

taglist: @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @msmb @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness @artemis1orion @sirius-animagus @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @kirascottage @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul

[bigteefsmallbrain]

SOULMATE AU HEADCANONS

So, Soulmate AU where when you talk out loud to yourself, your soulmate can hear you and vice versa, but actively trying to have a conversation with them doesn't work. I'm here, it's 8:43 in the afternoon as opposed to 3:29 AM when I first came up with this.

SOULMATE AU HEADCANONS FOR: Shoto Todoroki, Rin Okumura, and Sakura Haruno

Shoto Todoroki

Aha, good luck finding out you have a soulmate in the first place with this one

He literally does not speak out loud to himself

Not at first that is

He also is clueless about soulmates, like, as soon as he hears your voice he’s google searching “Why is there a voice in my head talking about how their family is disrespecting Ramen?”

When he does realize that it’s his soulmate, he won’t actively pursue speaking to himself or finding you

Actively being the key word here

He wants to believe he doesn’t care and that his soulmate, whoever they are, will just get in his way

But that doesn’t stop him from focusing solely on you when you talk

Or trying to reply to you sometimes

And it certainly doesn’t stop him from subconsciously starting to speak to himself

Which, by the way, scared the piss out of you the first time

You didn’t even know you had a soulmate till that point

so hearing a male voice in your head go “I can’t believe they only serve hot soba here”

Would understandably frighten you

He doesn’t even realize it at first until his father gets pissed at him for mumbling

And he’s just like “oh” and immediately stops, as soon as he realizes from then on

Like you’ll be going about your day, hear him start to speak, then cut himself off

Which is disappointing

His sudden radio silence changes drastically after his fight with Midoriya

Like after getting knocked out by Bakugo and being put into the infirmary, he decides to check over himself while mumbling or if Recovery Girl lists his injuries for him, he’ll repeat them under his breath

Which, scares you obviously, but you’re also glad he’s not dead or something

He starts rating cold soba that he has or has had in the past

Reviewing his day

Talking about Midoriya

Which worries you, does he have a crush? Are they just good friends? Is this ‘Midoriya’ going to steal your soulmate

I stg, Midoriya has become a love rival and the poor boy has no idea

You’re stalking him on the internet trying to find anything you can on him to make sure you can outdo anything he does

He can knit? Oh look, professional lessons and equipment

He does Yoga? Aha, you have never been more flexible in your life

Anything he’s done? You are now doing it better than he ever could

Todoroki doesn’t have this same fear, his parents weren’t soulmates, and he fully trusts you, you’re made for each other, literally

When you finally meet, it’s so unexpected, and he blue screens

Here? Now? Who? What’s yesterday?

He’s not functioning

Todoroki.exe has crashed

Person too pretty

You’re not any better though

Honestly, have you seen this man? He’s model material

Worth millions

You both stare at each other for a good while before Midoriya comes and breaks the silence

And Todoroki makes the mistake of going “Oh, hey Midoriya” and paying attention to him

The fire has been lit, RIP Midoriya Izuku, an innocent man

Rin Okumura

You have a collection of recipes

He talks A LOT when cooking, like, he’s a walking cookbook, going through each step and ingredient

Even for recipes of his own creation

Which he never writes down and frequently forgets

So when you meet, he’s convinced he died and went to heaven

All his beautifully crafted recipes and instructions, he may cry when you show them to him

He also reads out loud to himself, so prepare for that

All the Manga, any book he may read, some new recipe he found on the internet

He reads it out, and sometimes does different voices for other characters

Which is great and all, but since he’s a dropout, it’s literally at all the worst times

Doing a math quiz? He’s crying while reading a romance manga

Trying to study? Good luck with that, he’s dramatically reenacting a action manga panel

He watches Hell's Kitchen and other cooking shows

And RAMBLES

He’s talking about how this technique would be better

Or how he should try recreating that dish later

Critiquing how something turned out

Making a dish along with the show

Now, for him, every time he hears your voice, he freezes

Like, physically freezes

No thoughts, head empty, only soulmate

He will not respond until you’re done talking to yourself

And he commits whatever you say to memory

If you talk about a certain food, he is IMMEDIATELY in the kitchen either A) Learning the recipe for it, or B) Making sure he can still cook it

I can, nearly guarantee, that this man will invite you to his home for breakfast/lunch/dinner when you meet, and cook literally everything you’ve ever mentioned

And continue to cook for you after that

Like, he goes from “I wish to eliminate my birth father” to “The way of the house husband, Okumura style”

When you both meet, he pounces on you

No, I mean literally

He leaps on top of you

No hesitation

As soon as he hears your voice

It’s a immediate cuddle session on the floor

Or if you manage to stay upright, he’s clinging to you like a koala

No, you can’t escape or avoid

And if you DO stay upright, he will continue to lunge at you every time he is within jumping distance

Sakura Haruno

Yes, she may be seen as annoying or useless, but I like her, so I’m going to self indulge, and you can’t stop me

That doesn’t mean I'm gonna sugar coat this though

THIS GIRL GOES THROUGH ALL FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF IN THREE HOURS, AND MOST OF IT IS CRYING

She has spent who knows how long pursuing a toxic, probably Naruto-sexual, duck lookin emo DISASTER only to find out he’s NOT her soulmate?

“I went on this diet, and for what? Nothing”

“I bet it’s wrong, it has to be, right? Sasuke can’t NOT be my soulmate, RIGHT!?”

Yeah, she’s in a sad/denial state for about a week after that

And even after, she’s still salty

It’s not until Sasuke leaves, telling Sakura to go pursue HER soulmate instead of some stupid skin deep crush that she really begins to get OVER him and get INTO you

Except you’ve had enough of her Sasuke BS, so she not only needs to let go of her long time crush, but also make it up to her soulmate

The first time she says something about getting over Sasuke and wanting to be with her soulmate, you laugh, and she hears because you DON’T want to talk to her

“Does she really think one sentence is going to fix years of heartbreak?”

Now, when you put it like that, she cringes, and realizes that there's a lot of damage she caused

Honestly, when you two meet, you don’t recognize each other immediately, due to the fact that you don’t speak to her often or care to remember her voice

You probably found her with her head in her hands, probably eating away her woes at Ichirakus

You slide in, very smoothly, might I add, and ask what’s wrong while ordering yourself a bowl

She tells you the surface, that a friend ran from the village, which is true, but not what she’s sad about

You give her advice, chit chat a bit longer, getting to know each other, before paying for both her and your bowl and heading off

Never gave any names, just friendly conversation

You run into each other more frequently, growing closer with each talk, finally knowing each others names

Never mentioning meeting each other when talking to yourselves though

Eventually, using your advice when Sakura mentioned her soulmate was mad at her, you grew to forgive your soulmate

The two of you got such Deja Vu because of it too, since you were talking to each other and listening to the other ramble to themselves

Till one day, one of you mention the others name

And the other is like, “Oh my gosh [Y/N or Sakura] is my soulmate”

And then you both know

And the next time you see each other it’s a bit awkward, until Sakura says “So uh, I used your advice”

And you burst out laughing, conversation flowing as it would from there

You do hold a vendetta against Sasuke though, and after getting to know Sakura, it just gets 10 times worse

Like you’re ready to knock his teeth in if you ever see him

The pure, unadulterated rage you hold for him grows with every hate crime against Sakura he makes

Like, she tries to help him, now platonically, and he tries to kill her

There is no end to your rage

Everyone knows not to mention his name around you now

White boy better run and run fast if y’all ever meet

Yes, I do simp for pink haired characters, what are you gonna do about it?

If you’d like to see more headcanons, be that for this AU, or something else, feel free to submit an ask or comment! I hope you enjoyed these little headcanons!

[quirklessidiot]

Title: blood son [oneshot; filthy rich sequel]  Pairing: millionare!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au ft. kageyama tobio as your son] Genre: major angst ahead, thriller, yandere!au-ish

Synopsis: A full circle of madness finally comes to an end.

Warnings: sexual themes, rape, yandere behaviorisms (just some obsessive and disturbing stuff), very dark themes, anxiety, trauma, depression, eating disorder, unwanted pregnancy/children (y/n hates her kid here), suicide,  gaslighting, and Y/N’s decent to madness

Notes: happy 800 due to a lot of uh people asking for a short sequel, here it is...for better understanding, please read filthy rich skskksks anyways onto the story…i cant write smut for shit sIKE also fuck men and women like this, if you see them chok’em and chunk’em in the basin.  yes tobio is ur bby boy here idk kageyama and sakusa have the same energy i just couldnt resist i swear sksks

Filthy rich // series masterlist

A moan escapes your lips when you feel the hot liquid fill your hole, your expression is tantalizing and completely erotic. Something that he can’t seem to stop looking at, your body that was now a canvas of his marks, was a reminder that no one could have you. 

You're oblivious to it all, the things he did. The things he wanted to do to you, the dark thoughts, you were like a small rabbit in the den of a large wolf. Completely trusting, completely dumb and he’s taking advantage of it.

He stuffs and fills you up with his seed so that you’ll never leave him. 

He wants to breed you.

Your belly swelling with his children.

It was definitely a dream come true.

Your eyes snap back to reality as the bus stops in front of the new town, you had moved towns earlier since the town started to become a tourist destination. The idea of staying there would be too risky despite having the alias of Kageyama Miwa. You were still in hiding and you feared to even open the news despite it being eight years since you ran away.

“Okaasan, are we going to go down now?” a small voice asks.

You turn to find his son staring right at you, it had been a cruel reminder for him to look a lot like his father. You knew that he didn’t have any part in this, he was a victim just like you but you couldn’t help but be distant and not-so affectionate.

This was his kid.

His blood.

You couldn’t help but shrivel away.

“...Okaasan will just take her duffel bag on the overhead, just wait right behind me.” You say quietly. Tobio was a good boy, he was quiet and obedient. If the circumstances had been different, you’d adore him but every time you looked at him, all you saw was his wretched father and the unnamed things he did in the name of ‘love’.

To be honest, you didn’t know what else Sakusa did aside from trying to get you pregnant and holding you back from leaving. 

You didn’t even want to try to find out. If he was willing to go through such lengths to have you stay, it was more than enough reason to run away. You held onto your child’s hands as you made your way to your new home, it was smaller than the last one but this was alright.

It was clean and livable.

Tobio stays at the side, out of your way as you begin to fix up the house. The young boy isn’t social for his age towards his peers and you should be worried yet you can’t bring yourself to be, “Okaasan’s going to go to the grocery store, would you like anything?” you ask.

“Milk.”

“Alright, just stay here okay?”

He meekly nods as you awkwardly pat his head and  tie your roughly chopped hair in a tight ponytail, over the course of eight years, time has not been kind to you. You had grown unhealthily thin, probably lost some hair due to stress, and the bags underneath your eyes due to the lack of good sleep was evident.

You tell yourself that he isn’t looking for you now.

That he probably found a new plaything but you couldn’t help but look behind your shoulder every time. You didn’t even expect to get this far away, last you heard whilst you were at the station towards the last town eight years ago, you were being searched up and down by the police all over Tokyo.

You really thought you’d be found out and you feared for the worse but the farther you went, the less news reports you saw.

They probably thought you had died.

Which was good on your part that time because you’d rather be dead in a ditch than be caught up with a man like him again.

“...-Kusa Kiyoomi is expected to marry the daughter of Akiko Corp soon…”

You tense up at the mention of the very familiar name as you pass by the appliance store, shakily you turn to the tv screen to find a video of Sakusa Kiyoomi with a woman who had the same hair color as yours. Everything around you is muted now as his cold gaze fills the tv screen, your heart is thumping quick. 

He isn’t here.

He isn’t here.

“...It’s quite the love story of the century, don’t you think? After the disappearance of Kiyoomi’s beloved eight years ago, he met her a few years back and he seems to be doing well.” The tv anchor smiles on the screen as she talks to her co-host but inside you were shaking, what did happen to your missing person report? Curiosity starts to gnaw your insides as you head to the internet café before going to the grocery store.

You didn’t have the guts to look then but after seeing that report, you pull up on the secluded part of the internet café and search up your case. Your mouth dries up, the search was still on-going much to your surprise. There was even a website dedicated to it, “...Y/N L/N might be suffering from hysteria and psychological problems, please contact us immediately when you see her.”

Your eyes narrowed at the report as you shakily cup your mouth and choke back a laugh, that bastard really had the audacity to diagnose you with that when he was the one sick to the head.

Once again, the bile on your throat starts to pile up.

It still wasn’t safe.

You’d probably live your whole life on the run.

On the run with his son that scarily resembled him, how fucking cruel.

Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eyes glaze over the small town in discontent, apparently his bride-to-be wanted to get married here and who was he to refuse? All he wanted to do was get this over with so her father can shut up.

“Kiyoomi-san.” a small dainty voice calls out, he turns to his side to find (h/c) staring right at him. Akiko Hideyo is the daughter of one of the most powerful businessmen in Tokyo, he met her at a function a few years ago.

The very first time he saw her was from behind, it was a rather scary resemblance that he had to stop himself from approaching her by calling your name yet when he started to talk to her and hear her dainty voice, he realizes that she’s not even like you at all.

She was gentle and dainty like a deer.

Albeit his little bunny was gentle when they got together sometimes, he always recalled how you were filled with spunk. How you weren’t even afraid to put him in his place and how you were all over the place but seem to look beautiful whilst doing so.

He always recalled wanting to control you yet you never seem to succumb to it.

It had been eleven years since you first met, eight years since you had disappeared without a single trace and Sakusa is stuck with some third-rate look alike for relief. Every time they fucked, it was always from behind. Hideyo thinks it’s just his preference but in reality, it was because her back had such strong resemblance to you and he’d imagine every time that it was you.

He misses the roughness, the high, the erotica. 

The only things you could provide.

It was never enough, it was only you, you, and you.

“...Have you decided what flavor you wanted? Komori-san mentioned that you liked vanilla.” his fiancé meekly says.

Hideyo was boring.

Sometimes he wonders if he’s just doing this because he has never seen someone closely resembling you, “Anything would be fine.” He replied in a clipped tone. As the car comes to a halt for a moment because of a large truck backing from a driveway, his attention shifted towards a young boy bouncing a volleyball against the pavement outside his window. There are scratches on his knee cap yet the boy had a blank look on his face, he was sort of reminded of himself when he was younger.

As he was about to look away, he sees a woman approach the young boy and bends down to his level to check the scratches.

The woman’s small figure isn’t even the least bit familiar yet his attention can’t seem to go away. He watches her tuck the strand of stray hair and he finally gets a good look and it feels like the world stops turning at how the woman scarily resembles you. Albeit the figure was smaller and the hair was another color and unevenly chopped short.

It was no mistake.

“Y/N.” He mumbles yet as he’s about to open the door, the car starts to move. Kiyoomi’s fist tightens as he uncharacteristically yells at the driver to stop the car, Hideyo jumps on the seat and before she could say anything else, the business mongrel is out of the car, running to where you stood.

Yet just like a ghost, you were gone and so was the little boy who had oddly resembled him.

These days you had even a harder time sleeping. Maybe it was because there was a little leak on the ceiling, or better yet, maybe it was because the heater wasn’t working, or maybe it was because you were at a new place which made it harder to adjust.

You sat at the side with your expense book on hand, your gaze on his son who was peacefully asleep. Tobio was growing older soon and he needed to settle down at one place for high school and college. A part of yourself ventured deep and dark in your mind, the thought of leaving him at an orphanage seemed better now.

He had a fake last name anyways, the bastard wouldn’t be able to find him. 

You’d be doing this boy a favor since you never saw him as your kid and he’d be away from his very messy world.

Your thoughts are immediately disrupted when you hear a brief knock on the door. This made you tense up, it was late, Why would there be a need for visitors? Your son is quick to be awoken by the second knock and you immediately press your hand on his mouth and while your other finger is on your lips to signal him to keep quiet.

Another knock.

Tobio looks worried, it wasn’t his first time to see an episode from you but this time, something feels different. You're shaking more and you look like you’re about to pass out any moment. “Stay quiet.” you mouth as you crawl towards the door and press your ear on it to confirm who was on the other side, too afraid to even take a peak on the window.

Silence.

The only sound that could be heard was your thumping heart, Tobio had voluntarily placed a hand on his mouth to keep himself quiet.

Another knock.

You shut your eyes tight, praying to whatever god out there for this person to leave.

“...I don’t think anyone lives here.” You hear someone say on the other side, the voice sounded so familiar but you just couldn’t pinpoint who it was, this wasn’t Sakusa for sure,  “Are you sure that the information was right?”

Silence again.

“Hm.” The person hummed, knocking again, “Well, this place seems like a dead end. The landlady said that she’s not familiar with the tenants here so we could be wrong…”

The voice started to decrease and you feel yourself slowly starting to breathe easier. Tobio slowly put down his hand and there you saw it, the fear on his eyes. You breathe in and out, calming yourself, this place isn't safe anymore, “Tobio, take your bags. We’re leaving.” you only say.

You don’t even hesitate to leave despite it being the middle of the night.

Tobio is right in front of you as you go down your small apartment and you think everything is well, you really do yet luck didn’t seem to be on your side that night.

“...Y/N?”

A dreadfully familiar voice calls out, didn’t they leave? Why? why was he here?

“O-Okaasan.” Tobio mumbles, grabbing your hand and hiding behind you.

Your head hurts, you wanted to just be selfish and leave Tobio here with this man, his father, the wretched, vile creature who had betrayed you. You wanted to run.

You didn’t feel safe.

Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t make you feel safe.

“Y/N…” He repeats, slowly approaching you, “It’s me, bunny.”

Oh, how you hated that pet name. It sounded like you were his plaything, like you could never escape from his set-up. Before you could say anything else, he invades your personal space once again and envelopes you in a very,very tight hug.

“I’ve missed you so, so much.” He whispers on your ear and your shivering, not from pleasure but from fear, “Shh, it’s alright. I found you. It must’ve been hard to be alone out here.”

Get away.

Get away.

“Get the fuck away from me.” You yell, pushing him off of you as you stagger away from him. Tobio remains behind you, completely shaking.

“Now, Y/N-” he tries to shush you, “We should go home now, you’ve spent so much time away from me but I understand, you were probably just scared to tell me you were pregnant, right?” 

He cups the right side of your face and places a chaste kiss on your temple, tears are threatening to spill as you realize that this was all over. You couldn’t escape now, this lunatic wouldn’t let you have at it.

The soft and plush bed is completely foreign to your back, Kiyoomi had you separated from Tobio because apparently you were still too ‘unstable’. It made you mentally scoff, between the both of you, he was the unstable one.

You wondered if they started to feed the small boy lies about you, Kiyoomi definitely milked it out to the press for sure. When he had found you, not only were your friends and family in a frenzy, the media was having a field day too. He had broken off the engagement and he used your ‘mental illness’ card on them and it worked.

Another story was weaved on papers, a love that transcended through time.

You let out a low sardonic laugh.

Mental Illness, you wondered if this could be a ploy for a suicide. After all, you’d rather be face first on the pavement than stay here with a son about to be fed on lies and a crazy bastard who sleeps next to you at night.

You stare out your window, the curtains were drawn as you looked at the free birds.

How envious.

“Y/N?” Kiyoomi comes in, a food tray in hand, “It’s time for dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N it’s been two days, all you ate was an apple-”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N, our son-”

“He was never my son.” You harshly snapback, your voice sharp, “He’s yours through and through, a fucking incarnate of you and a curse. He’s not mine. He never will be.”

You suddenly feel the presence of the small boy behind the door and there stands his boy, staring right at your eyes yet you feel nothing for him. You never felt anything for him. The moment they placed him on your arms to nurse, there was no joy nor light.

All he brought was a painful reminder.

Kiyoomi places the tray to the side and closes the door behind him, Tobio’s blank gaze still on you, “...Those aren’t words a child is supposed to hear, Y/N. Especially ours…” he inches closer and you clench your fist tightly and he places his hand on your neck and lightly holds it. 

You aren’t scared of him anymore, the nicest thing this guy could do was kill you, really.

“Maybe we should have a girl this time, hm?” his hand trails upwards to softly caress the side of your face.

You’re immediately frozen by his sudden choice of words, no, no-

“Maybe you’ll learn to love Tobio even more when you’re pregnant with another of mine-” before he could finish what he was about to say, you raise a hand and slap him right at his face, it must’ve been hard since it left a mark, “Ah, Y/N. I didn’t know you still liked it rough-”

“D-Don’t, I-I can’t get pregnant.” You're shaking this time as you try to come up with a lie, “I-I can’t…”

“Oh?” He tilts his head, “Why not?”

“I’ll die.” You lied, “When I had Tobio I almost died, my body couldn’t handle it. T-The doctor had said that if I were to have another, I’d die…”

The lie didn’t save you that moment, really. He has become an expert at detecting your lies so instead of a reply, he harshly places his lips on yours and despite protests, he just pins you down.

He’s harsh on you that night, spilling and stuffing you with his cum, whispering that you’ll have it all and that you’d be his everything but all you could do was let a small hiccup escape your lips as you tried to hold back your cries.

‘Someone, anyone, please.’ you pleaded internally.

You don’t see Tobio until a week later, the boy has grown a tad bit chubbier and is adorned with expensive clothes. Sakusa, on the other hand, has been force-feeding you to the point where you threw up right after meals (secretly, of course) 

You sit down at the couch as your son blinks at you, “...I’m sorry.” He breaks the silence and you shut your eyes tight as you recalled the harsh words he heard last week.

“I’m sorry too, Tobio.” you could only reply because genuinely, you did feel like you went too far this time. He didn’t choose to be born, a part of you should’ve saved him the misery and left him at the orphanage that time, “Do you hate me?” you ask.

“No.”

“You should.” You say quietly, “You should hate your otosan too.”

Tobio remains quiet at your words.

“When you grow older, don’t end up like him. don’t end up like us. forget us when you have the chance.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good and If you ever get the chance to leave, promise me that you get out and don’t look back.”

Tobio may have been eight years old that time but he knows fear when he sees it and he knows promises aren’t meant to be broken. He remembers those words well because it was the last long conversation he has with you. 

The month of December rolls by and it’s cold, you’ve given up fighting back at this point. Your glassy eyes are directed to the window, not even wanting to look down at your bulging stomach. Kiyoomi doesn’t even need to tell you twice to not leave the house, you decide upon yourself to just stay at your room on bed the whole time.

You wonder, just how high is it from up here? Would it hurt?

“Y/N?” a dreadful voice calls out.

“Hm.” 

“You haven’t gone out of our room in two months. You haven’t even seen Tobio.” Sakusa points out, you were like a obedient doll now. So lifeless, so still, you wished he’d discard you already.

“I might say something again, I don’t want to bother.” You replied truthfully, gaze still avoiding his.

The raven-haired man starts to caress your plump face, you had grown chubbier since the beginning of your pregnancy, he couldn’t be anymore happier to finally be there for you.

This was perfect.

You were finally his.

You weren’t letting go.

“...Don’t you ever regret it?” You finally ask, turning to him, your blank eyes staring at his rather deranged ones, the eyes that you once loved was now just a reminder of your resentful life.

“Which one?” He asks, inching in closer to kiss your neck, your collarbone. You let out a meek sigh as you shut your eyes and internally prayed for this to be over quickly as he removes your ribbon that held your flimsy nightgown together.

“You killed people.” You uttered, “Took my life away, don’t you regret it?”

“Why would I?”

Right, how could a monster like him have such empathy? You feel his cold fingers brush against your folds, trying to stimulate it.

Everything except your body screamed no but you were just too powerless now. You wondered, how could you even end this all? Was jumping out the window the only solution now?

“...Right...” You let out a soft painful moan as he dips his finger inside. You’re under the idea that despite this happening countless of times, you’re body would be numb to it all yet each time it happens, it pains you even more,  “You even had to kill your ex-fiancé’s father for us to get married.”

You had come to realize just how deep his obsession was, the man was willing to kill to anyone who got in the way of your ‘love’. You remembered finding out about your ex-chief one night, about how he had chopped off his fingers and left him to bleed dry in the alleyway for the rats to feast on.

You remembered when a news came up that his supposedly future-father-in-law had died in a violent explosion during breakfast time and how he was nonchalant about it.

“...It’s all for you, Y/N.” He implores as he kissed your thighs and continue to stimulate your now wet folds, “All for you, Tobio, and my new little girl.”

“You’re sick.”

“Mhm. You smell good, I should continue using the soap from awhile ago when I clean you, right?” he hummed, ignoring what you had just said as he dipped his head in and take a kitten lick on your sex. You let out a small cry as your body betrayed you.

Your prayers for today are unheard yet again.

“...Y/N, you barely come out of your room these days.” Komori exclaimed, it turns out the visitor from last time who knocked on your door was him and as much as you wanted to knock his teeth out, you decide not to because you don’t see the point in doing violence these days.

“I’m tired.”

“Yeah, pregnancy does take a toll on your body.” He nods in agreement, it seemed like this was a casual thing for him, like you just weren’t repeatedly rape or mentally abused by his cousin, “Tobio certainly takes after his father, don’t you think?”

Your blood runs cold at the mention of the little boy, you had small hope for him either ways so you didn’t exactly cared for him anymore.

“I suppose so.” 

“You’ve gotten boring these days, Y/N.” Komori plainly pointed out, “It’s a wonder how my cousin gets to stick around ya. No offense.”

“None taken.”

Komori’s eyes narrowed at your hollowed response, you were so ungrateful. Here his cousin was, treating you with such delicateness and with all the attention that the other women wanted but you looked anything but happy about it.

If this was Hideko, she’d be elated.

But no, he had to be stuck with an ungrateful pompous bitch like you.

“How high up are we, Komori-san?” you suddenly ask.

He blinks at the rather weird question, “Fifty floors.”

“Hm.” You hummed, “That certainly is high.”

Komori would regret answering that question very soon though.

When the winter dawned upon a new year and you finally snap, you decide to answer your own prayers and opt to salvage yourself from this madness and cruelty once and for all.

Sakusa Tobio is nine years old when you, his mother, six months pregnant, jumped out the bedroom window from a fifty-foot story building two months into the new year. Your face is flat on the pavement and completely unrecognizable, the last conversation you both had replays on his head like a broken record through the years and only when he’s old enough that he realizes that he was no one’s son. 

His okaasan didn’t loved him nor did he want to be associated with his father for all he did was bring pain and disgust.

The boy is eighteen, fresh out of the academy, right in front of his baby sister’s and your mausoleum. He makes it a habit to visit you both a day before your death anniversary,  not wanting to be in the same room as his father yet this year he makes an exception.

Recently, he had turned over some evidence and his own testimony about what his father had been doing. Everything, from illegal works to the people he killed to your tragic end. It’s enough to file a case and have him set to jail for life, even his fancy lawyers couldn’t defend him. 

His lips sting because his Uncle Komori had punched him in the face and called him an ungrateful bastard like you but it was alright.

It was all over.

He plans to change his name back to Kageyama Tobio (the haux name you had given him when you were on the run) right after all the fiasco, it’s a kind name and the first name you had given him, he likes to think that this was also a gift from you that time, a new beginning straying away from you and his father's cruel ties. He had also felt that it was too unkind for him to use your last name despite his grandparents' persistence (he was after all, conceived through forceful means).

And although he wanted to hate you for those words you said that time when he was eight. He couldn’t really bring himself to after hearing what you had to go through, you were a victim. He couldn’t dare imagine what his father did to you during the last few months leading to your death.

Yet, right now. It was finished.

You could rest now.

“I did it, Y/N-san.” He mumbles as he bows down. As he got older, he has also foregone the idea of calling you by the name you loathed and shriveled away from, “I got out and I didn’t look back. Thank you for everything.”

Kageyama Tobio never visits you right after again, as promised.

[the-scandalorian]

Tempered Glass: Chapter 5

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 6.4k Warnings: canon rewrite, slow burn, canon-typical violence, sexual harassment/unwanted sexual advances, cursing, sexy thoughts, pining Summary: When you’re caught in a firefight with a bounty hunter and the Crest is damaged, you and Mando stop on Tatooine to find a job. A shadow of your past catches up with you. Notes: Sorry not sorry for making Toro even worse than he already is. Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme @beskarhearts @dincrypt @dunderr @honey-hi​ @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @mbpokemonrulez @red-leaders @speakerforthedead0 @theflightytemptressadventure @zoemariefit

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

After leaving Sorgan, you and Mando chose a second “backwater skughole” several systems away as your next destination. Mando set the nav, and the automated voice of the computer informed you that the trip would take almost five days. The thought of spending five days confined to the Crest was not appealing, but you knew it was important to keep your stops as remote as possible.

Time was a functionally meaningless concept in space anyways, hours and days bleeding together. Without the usual environmental cues to govern your circadian rhythm, you had to rely on a schedule to maintain some semblance of normalcy, keeping alarms on your chrono to remind you when to sleep. Mando, on the other hand, seemed so completely accustomed to this slippery sense of time that he needed no reminders; this was natural for him.

If you hadn’t already seen some of his skin, you might actually think he was a droid. Aside from his hard metal exterior, the most compelling piece of evidence to support this theory was the fact that he didn’t seem to need much sleep. He disappeared into his bunk for maybe four or five hours a day, plus twenty minutes here or there to eat. You suspected he settled into a half-asleep, half-awake hibernation mode when he sat in the pilot’s seat for hours at a time without moving. Once, he jolted so violently when the child sneezed that he had to catch him by his collar before he slid off his knee.

His relationship with the kid, though, was achingly, heartwarmingly, vulnerably human.

You lived for the glimpses of their bond—the way Mando would remove a single pauldron so he could rest the child’s head on his shoulder to lull him to sleep, whispering to him as he swayed gently. When the kid was restless and energetic from being cooped up, Mando would roll the little silver sphere from a control in the cockpit along the floor of the hull for him to chase. For a generally impatient man, his patience for the child seemed almost inexhaustible; he would hold him and pat his back endlessly while he wailed his way through particularly bad tantrums.

You collected these precious moments and held them close to your heart, unwittingly creating a catalog of comfort that you’d return to later. They weren’t necessarily your moments to claim, as a visitor in their world, but you treasured them nonetheless.

***

You were out of colored contacts. You could only wear each pair continuously for a month, and your current pair was due to be switched out any day. The morning you threw them away, Mando stopped you as you passed him in the hull with a light hand on your shoulder. The kid was tucked in his other arm.

He stepped in front of you, just inches away from your chest, tilting his helmet down to look at you. You looked up to meet his gaze, puzzled. He cocked his head, a silent question.

Not for the first time, you wondered about the color of his eyes.

You held your breath, unsure of what he was going to do.

He said nothing but brought his gloved hand up to your face, running this thumb along the crest of your cheek—so lightly, the leather was barely touching you. The tender gesture brought goose bumps to your arms, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

The kid reached up a tiny hand toward your other cheek, mirroring Mando’s movement. He babbled quietly, breaking the tense silence. You flicked your eyes down to watch him but remained still, not wanting to disrupt the spell of the moment. The baby wiggled his fingers and whined when he realized he couldn’t reach you. You smiled.

You looked back up into Mando’s visor. You wanted so badly to reach out and touch him back, to pull him closer, but you let fear keep you rooted to the spot.

To your astonishment, he dipped his helmet, as if he was going to lean his forehead against yours. He was inches from your face—you could see your surprise reflected in his visor and hear his steady breathing through the modulator. But Mando seemed to change his mind mid-gesture, and the moment was over before you knew it. He straightened, dropped his hand, nodded stiffly, and stepped past you. The child let out a frustrated cry in protest.

Without the kid’s lingering whines, you might have thought you imagined the whole thing.

Little by little, you were revealing your real self to the Mandalorian, placing your safety in his hands. This would have been harder to stomach if you weren’t getting pieces of him in return. Spending this much time in such close quarters with someone—even someone as closed off as Mando—was enough to get to know them fairly well.

For instance, you weren’t quite fluent, but you were getting really good at reading his body language. He relied on his armor to mask his intentions with strangers, and he wasn’t accustomed to people spending extended amounts of time with him—time to learn his patterns and tells. Over time, it became apparent just how many minute things there were to unpack: subtle tensions in his back and shoulders, clenching of his fists, tapping of his fingers, the lean in his hips, audible inhales or exhales, the tilt of his helmet. Plus, there were nuanced flavors of each movement: a sassy head tilt, an angry head tilt, a confused head tilt. Soon enough, you’d be able to create a dictionary of the Mandalorian’s body language. 

It was strange to think that you’d only been with him for a few weeks, and you might be the only person in the galaxy who could read him so well.

Something else you’d come to learn about Mando was that he was very particular about where his things were kept. This made sense—he’d clearly been living alone for years, if not decades. Of course someone with such a nomadic, unsettled lifestyle would want to carefully control what little in his environment that he could, but his compulsive organization was next level.

You came to this conclusion after you scooted his toothbrush and toothpaste over just slightly in the med cabinet to make a space for yours. The next morning, you opened the cabinet to find his things exactly where they had been before you’d moved them. You looked down to see that yours were sitting precariously on the edge of the sink, waiting to fall to the floor at the first sign of turbulence. Seriously?

That inspired you to devise a fun game—well, it was fun for you. You were pretty sure Mando hated it, though to his credit, he didn’t say anything about it for several days. Every day, you’d move one of his items just slightly to see if he’d notice and move it back. So far, he’d caught every tiny adjustment. He even reoriented his bar of soap when you moved it so it sat slightly off-kilter in its dish in the shower. He hadn’t even showered yet that day.

After three days, he finally cracked.

He was digging through a storage compartment, huffing dramatically though his modulator as he searched for something.

“I can’t imagine you’ve lost something,” you said, from where you were sitting on a crate sharing a ration pack with the kid, who was perched on your lap. “Not with how terrifyingly organized you are.”

“Yeah, well, that was only true before you started moving my stuff around.” 

You grinned. “I was wondering when you were going to say something.”

“I was wondering when you were going to stop,” he huffed, but you detected the lightest trace of amusement in his tone.

“I haven’t actually moved anything,” you laughed. “Just... adjusted.”

He harrumphed, still digging around in the box.

The kid chittered and reached toward your hand for more food. You gave him another piece.

“If you let me leave my toothbrush and toothpaste in the med cabinet, I’ll stop.”

He looked up. “That’s it?”

“I’m a reasonable woman.”

“Deal.”

When you went to brush your teeth that night, one of the three shelves in the med cabinet had been completely cleared for you.

As you slowly began to insinuate yourself into Mando and the kid’s life, the guilt of not telling him about the bounty on your head started to weigh heavier on your mind. He deserved to know, but you couldn’t imagine him letting you stay if he found out. Why would he assume any extra risk? I’ll tell him soon. We probably won’t be together much longer anyways.

***

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

The unfamiliar voice of the bounty hunter echoed over the com in the cockpit. A ship was hot on your tail, landing several shots that rattled the Crest violently. The child, who was strapped into the seat beside you, seemed to enjoy the excitement of the chase, arms raised and giggling. Mando maneuvered the Crest quickly and deftly, so the pursuer was suddenly directly in front of the viewport.

“That’s my line,” he said dramatically, as he pulled the trigger and obliterated the ship in his sights.

Despite the fact that your heart was pounding in your chest, you couldn’t help but let out an exasperated laugh at that. 

The chase had been short-lived, but the hunter had managed to inflict some serious damage. Alarms beeped and warning lights flashed along the console.

“Losing fuel,” said Mando. He was working hastily, his hands flying from one control to the next. He was trying to address several warning alarms at once.

“You work on that. I got this,” you said, unbuckling.

You stood next to him, attending to the controls in front of you.

“What are—Don’t do that,” he said, “Stop. I need to—”

He didn’t finish his sentence when he realized you were doing exactly what needed to be done to stabilize the ship.

“I thought you said you worked in programming.”

“I did. Mostly avionics.”

The second thruster sputtered and died. The cockpit went dark. All of the usual mechanical sounds that the ship made whirred to a halt. Mando turned in surprise, looking around. He clicked a few buttons. Nothing happened.

The child giggled from his seat.

“I’ll get it.” You walked to the back of the cockpit and wrenched open a panel to do a manual reset of the controls. Some of the lights came back on. Mando flicked several switches, and the displays came alive.

Together, you got the ship in good enough shape to limp to a nearby planet. Luckily, you were already close to Tatooine. The Razor Crest rattled alarmingly as it cleared the atmosphere, and Mando landed the ship with an unceremonious clunk in a bay in Mos Eisley.

Mando left the now sleeping baby in his bunk, despite your objections. That never works. He walked down the ramp to haggle with the mechanic.

Peli was a gruff woman, sassy and straightforward. You liked her right away. Mando deserved the sass Peli dished out, considering he had begun their interaction by shooting at her pit droids when they tried to approach the Crest.

He really hates droids.

You and Mando headed to the cantina to inquire about work. As soon as the ship went dead, you’d both known you’d need to pull a job to pay to fix the damage because there was no way the Crest was making it to your destination in its current state.

You trailed a few steps behind him, watching the intimidating way he stalked down the sandy street, his cape billowing behind him. He seemed less scary now that you knew he secretly had a sense of humor and an occasional flair for the dramatic. And that he once let you sleep on his shoulder. And tied your shoe for you.

When you entered the cantina, you shivered from the abrupt change in temperature. Outside the twin suns beat down; inside the dark cantina, it was cool.

Mando strode up to the bar. You followed him, taking in your surroundings.

“Hey, droid. I’m a hunter. I’m looking for some work.”

“Unfortunately, the Bounty Guild no longer operates from Tatooine,” replied the droid in a stilted voice.

“It doesn’t have to be Guild work,” you clarified.

“I am afraid that does not improve your situation, at least by my calculation,” said the droid, continuing to wipe down the surface of the bar with a rag.

“Think again, tin can,” interrupted a smug voice behind you. You and Mando turned.

A young man, his legs propped brazenly on the table in front of him, continued, “If you’re looking for work, have a seat, my friends.” He gestured to the seats across from him.

“Name’s Toro, Toro Calican. Come on, relax.” He beckoned for you to join him again.

You and Mando exchanged a look and walked over to where he was seated.

Toro swung his legs off the table and slapped a bounty puck down in front of him as you slid into the booth and Mando followed.

“Picked up this bounty punk before I left the Mid Rim,” Toro explained. The hazy image of a woman with dark hair hovered over the puck. “Fennec Shand, an Assassin. Heard she’s been on the run ever since the New Republic put all her employers in lockdown.”

Toro had thick brown hair and dark eyes, a boyish face despite the scruff of five-o’clock shadow on his jaw. He couldn’t be older than 25.

“I’ve heard the name,” said Mando.

You nodded beside him. Fennec Shand was a legend. Having been chased by enough hunters, you were familiar with the big players.

“Yeah, well, I followed this tracking fob here. Now the positional data suggests she’s headed out beyond the Dune Sea. Should be an easy job.” He shrugged.

This kid clearly has no idea what he’s doing.

“Well, good luck with that,” said Mando, standing up. You stayed where you were, relaxed against the back of the booth.

“Wait, wait, wait, hey. I thought you needed work?” Toro looked from Mando to you, confused.

“How long you been with the Guild?” asked Mando.

“Long enough,” Toro spat unconvincingly.

“Clearly not. Fennec Shand is an elite mercenary. She made her name killing for all the top crime syndicates, including the Hutts. If you go after her, you won’t make it past sunrise.”

Mando looked at you and jerked his head to signal that it was time to go. He started to walk away. You stayed seated, saying nothing.

Toro looked at you, pleading. You nodded toward Mando: “You’ll have to convince him.”

Toro scrambled after him. Mando turned to face him, and Toro had to look up to meet his visor.

“This is my first job,” he admitted in a strained voice. “You guys can keep the money, all of it. I just need this job to get into the Guild. I can’t do it alone.”

Mando looked to you. You smiled knowingly, and he let out a sigh and nodded.

The man cannot say no to someone who needs help.

Toro was visibly relieved.

“Meet us at hangar three-five in half an hour. Bring three speeder bikes and give me the tracking fob,” instructed Mando, holding out a hand.

Toro’s shoulders pulled together. Someone doesn’t want to let go of the fob.

Without any warning, he smashed the fob on the wall. It sparked.

Mando gave Toro his angry head tilt.

“Don’t worry, got it all memorized,” assured Toro, tapping a finger on his temple.

“Half an hour,” growled Mando.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me now, guys,” Toro said triumphantly, turning to look at you.

Mando pushed past Toro and walked back to the booth, leaning down toward you. “I am not that predictable,” he muttered in a low, irritated voice.

“You really are,” you smiled up at him. “I’ll meet you at the hangar in 20. I want real food.”

He nodded and left.

Toro looked very pleased with himself, grinning at you.

“You better go track down those bikes,” you reminded him, gesturing for a droid to come take your order.

Toro ignored your advice. Instead, he looked you up and down in a way that made your skin crawl and slid back into the booth across from you.

“You know what? I have an even better idea. Me and you can take Fennec ourselves. You look like a girl who can handle herself. Let’s ditch that rusty bucket right now and do this together. Fewer people to split the reward.” His eyes sparkled.

Is he fucking serious?

You already weren’t a huge fan of Toro and his cocky attitude, but the minute he called you “girl” like that, your regard for him plummeted. What little patience you had for this kid was wearing thin.

“Not interested.”

The droid came over, and you placed your order.

Toro, still looking at you expectantly, scooted around the table to sit next to you, and you moved in the opposite direction to maintain the distance between you.

“Mando is old, you know? I don’t know if you can tell, but I can. That’s an old man under that shiny armor. You look like you need someone younger to keep up with you.” He winked conspiratorially, as if the two of you were sharing a mutual joke.

You watched him through narrowed eyes, a sour feeling settling in your stomach.

He was clearly terrible at reading people because he responded to your disgusted look by reaching over to run a heavy hand along the inside of your thigh. He barely made it an inch past your knee when you ripped his hand off your leg, tightening your fingers around his wrist until your nails dug into his skin.

“Touch me again and lose a hand,” you spat at him, releasing him and pushing up from the table. You wrapped your fingers around the hilt of the blade at your hip.

“Whoa, whoa! I was just being friendly, sweetheart,” he said loudly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He looked around at the other patrons as if seeking outside confirmation that you were the one who was being unreasonable in this situation.

“You should leave.”

“I was obviously kidding about ditching Mando,” said Toro, shaking his head. “You really need to lighten up.” He didn’t even have the decency to look abashed.

You spared him a biting response, fixing him with a glare instead.

“I’ll go find those bikes.” He stood to leave, purposefully brushing past your shoulder as he went.

***

After finishing your meal, you stalked out of the cantina and back to the terminal to find Mando.

He was sitting at the top of the ramp of the Crest fiddling with an open control panel in the wall. He looked up to nod at you when he heard you approach.

“I don’t like that kid, Mando. I don’t trust him. I don’t think we should do this.” You stopped in front of him and put your hands on your hips.

“I know. He’s inexperienced, but he’s harmless.”

“No, that’s what I’m saying—he’s not harmless.”

“What did he say to you?” Mando continued working on the open control panel, only vaguely listening to you.

“He tried to talk me into ditching you and teaming up with him, so we didn’t have to split the reward three ways... He also hit on me.” You added the last part as an afterthought and grimaced at the memory of his gross hand on your thigh.

His head snapped up to look at you. “He—what?”

You looked at him, waiting for him to verbalize a more coherent question. You weren’t sure which part of what you’d shared horrified him the most.

“I—what—uh, yeah, I know... I don’t trust him either,” he continued, “but there are two of us and only one of him. We need the credits—and we’ll get the full reward, like he agreed, whether he likes it or not. We’re not going to find many other jobs here, and I don’t think he’s smart enough to pull anything.”

“I guess,” you shrugged. Toro doesn’t seem capable of critical thinking, let alone concocting and carrying out an elaborate scheme. The bounty was too high and other jobs too scarce to resist.

“We’ll keep a close eye on him. Let’s just finish this job quickly, and then you, me, and the kid can move on.”

“Okay,” you agreed, reluctantly. The way he emphasized the fact that you and him and the kid were a team was an obvious attempt to quell your worries. And it did. Mostly. It was a little startling how well he knew you already.

“Where’s the baby?” you asked, suddenly realizing the door to his bunk was open, and it was empty.

“He left the ship, and Peli found him. She agreed to take care of him while we do this job.”

Again, here he is, trusting a complete stranger.

“I told you he never stays put,” you scowled.

“Don’t worry, Peli already gave me an earful about how much I don’t know about kids.” He sounded defeated, so you decided not to pile on.

“You’re doing a good job, you know. The kid really loves you.”

He seemed surprised by your sincerity, his shoulders pulling back slightly. “I’m not, but thanks.”

It hurt your heart a little to hear him say that. 

***

When you left the terminal fifteen minutes later, Toro was outside, leaning against one of two speeder bikes with a cocky smile on his face.

Peli, who was holding the kid and arguing with Mando about payment, stood in the doorway to see you off. You caught the curious look that Toro gave the baby in Peli’s arms.

“Hey, what do you think? Not too shabby, huh? I could only track down two. You guys will have to share,” Toro said.

You and Mando looked at each other. Mando started to inspect the bike closest to you. Before he could beat you to it, you threw a leg over the speeder bike and sat down at the front of the seat.

“What are you doing?” Mando asked you.

“Driving,” you said, shrugging and reaching into your bag. You pulled on a pair of googles and wrapped a scarf around your nose and mouth. You secured your bag on the back of the bike.

When you noticed that Mando had made no move to join you, you looked at him and tipped your head back toward the seat behind you. “Let’s go.”

You could tell by the resigned drop in his shoulders that he knew it would be more work to try to convince you to scoot back than was worth it. He climbed on the speeder behind you, crowding you forward and reaching his long arms around you to grab the controls.

“Nope. Nice try,” you said, slapping his gloved hands away and grasping the controls yourself.

He sighed and wrapped his arms around your middle. You hoped he didn’t notice the goose bumps that appeared on your neck when he touched you. It was way too warm out under the two blazing suns to explain them away.

You jerked your wrists down and leaned forward to take off across the open sand, not waiting for Toro to mount his speeder.

“What the hell??” he yelled after you.

He caught up after a few moments.

After awhile, you let yourself relax back against Mando’s chest, and you smiled to yourself when he tightened his arms around you. 

The suns slipped lower in the sky as you coasted over the shifting surface of the Dune Sea.

***

You and Toro slowed your bikes to a halt when Mando released your waist to hold up a fist.

“What’s going on?” asked Toro.

“Look. Up ahead,” The rasp of Mando’s modulator in your ear and the concurrent rumble in his chest made you shiver, so you hastily hopped off the bike.

Mando stayed seated while you and Toro each pulled out a set of binocs to scan the landscape. Neither of you had the heightened vision that Mando’s helmet afforded him.

Through your binocs, you spotted two Tusken raiders standing beside two very hairy Banthas a short distance ahead. You lowered your binocs and scanned the immediate area.

“Tusken raiders. I heard the locals talking about this filth,” spat Toro, who was still watching them through his binocs.

You stepped back toward the bike as two Tuskens crested the hill you were on. Mando reached out a hand to grab your wrist, squeezing gently. You looked at him, and he nodded reassuringly.

“Tuskens think they’re the locals,” Mando said coolly, turning back to Toro. “Everyone else is just trespassing.”

“Well, whatever they call themselves, they best keep their distance,” Toro remarked.

“Yeah? Why don’t you tell them yourself?” asked Mando.

You grinned. There’s that flair for the dramatic.

Toro turned, and the two Tuskens screeched at him. You laughed at the way Toro positively jumped. Mando stood, raising a calming hand toward Toro, and told him to relax. You followed him as he approached the Tuskens and started gesturing to them, clearly proficient in their sign-based language.

Mando’s hands moved smoothly though deft, controlled movements. You looked down and bit your lip, trying to focus on twisting the toe of your boot back and forth in the sand to prevent your mind from wandering somewhere less appropriate.

“What are you doing?” Toro asked Mando.

“Negotiating.”

The Tuskens signed back to Mando.

“What’s going on?” asked Toro.

“We need passage across their land.”

“What did you think he meant by “negotiating”?” you said, raising your eyebrows at Toro.

“Let me see your binocs,” said Mando, holding out a hand to Toro.

“Why?”

Mando said nothing but kept his hand out, waiting. The two suns, now low in the sky, reflected brightly off his helmet. Toro handed them over begrudgingly, and Mando tossed them to the Tuskens. The Tuskens looked satisfied with their payment.

“He—hey! What? Those were brand new!” stuttered Toro in surprise.

“Yeah? They were.” Mando stalked away and remounted the speeder bike. You followed him.

And there’s that sense of humor. It’s sassy.

“You couldn’t have taken hers instead?” Toro asked, nodding at you.

“Nope,” said Mando.

You smiled sweetly at Toro as Mando scooted back in the seat and let you climb on in front of him.

***

The next time you stopped more abruptly. Mando raised his fist and barked, “Get down!”

You and Mando sprang off your bike in unison and crouched down. Toro, struggling to keep up with what was happening, fumbled with his goggles before following suit.

The three of you made your way to the edge of the dune in front of you, staying low. You set yourselves up on your stomachs at the top of the rise. Not far below, a dewback trudged forward slowly with what looked like a dead rider trailing after it, a rein wrapped around the figure’s limp ankle.

“Is that her? Is that the target?” asked Toro.

“I don’t know... I’ll go.” He looked at you to say, “You two cover me.”

You nodded.

He looked at Toro to emphasize, “Stay down.”

You and Toro pulled out your blasters. Mando ran hurriedly down the dune, his own blaster drawn. He approached the dewback slowly with a reassuring, “Whoa, whoa.”

Mando flipped over the prone body.

“So, is it her? Is she dead?” yelled Toro.

Mando turned, “It’s another bounty hunter.”

Toro turned to look at you. “He’s not planning to keep all that stuff for himself, right? I at least want that blaster.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Can you shut up for one second?”

He gave you a disbelieving look. You ignored him and focused your attention back on Mando.

Mando started to rise, turning suddenly to yell, “GET DOWN!” as blaster fire hit his pauldron, knocking him to the ground.

“Mando!” you yelled.

He scrambled back to his feet and broke into a run. He crested the hill as a second shot screamed after him. Again, it hit him in the beskar, sound reverberating off the metal. He threw himself down with a grunt, rolling towards you in a shower of sand.

“Are you okay? You didn’t get hit, right?” You reached out towards him.

“Yeah, it hit me in the beskar. And at that range, the beskar held up.” He sounded winded.

“What happened?” asked Toro, as Mando set himself back up on the crest of the hill, lying between you and Toro.

“Sniper bolt. Only an MK-modified rifle could make that shot.”

“Fennec,” you said. Mando nodded.

“Did you see where the shot came from?” he asked you.

“Yeah, from that ridge.” You pointed.

“Okay, we’re gonna wait until dark.”

“Well, what if she escapes?” asked Toro from where he was resting on his elbows on the other side of Mando.

“She’s got a good position,” you said. “She’s not moving.”

“Exactly,” agreed Mando. “She’ll wait for us to make the first move.”

Mando rolled over and stood only part of the way up, offering a hand down to you. You grasped it and got to your feet. You both hunched low to keep yourselves behind the protective swell of the dune.

“We’re gonna rest. You take the first watch. Stay low,” Mando said to Toro.

You followed Mando back to the bikes.

“Be extra careful. I don’t like you being out here with no beskar,” he said to you, more quietly.

“I will.” 

Your stomach clenched at the way Mando’s voice warmed when he was talking only to you. He spoke to Toro in a clipped tone, like he was scolding an unruly kid. He spoke to you like an equal, a partner. You couldn’t pinpoint when he’d started talking to you this way, but it had shifted recently. It was a tone you’d heard him use with the kid and with Omera. Something that felt a lot like hope sparked in your chest at this realization.

He slumped down against your speeder bike and reached up to pull you down next to him. You leaned back against the bike next to him, your body flush with his, and let your cheek fall against his shoulder.

After a few moments, you could hear a light snore rasping through his modulator. Apparently this man can fall asleep anywhere.

Eventually, you fell into a light sleep, not trusting Toro enough to sleep deeply.

***

You woke to Toro saying, “Time to ride, guys.”

“Come on, wake up!”

You opened your eyes and lifted your head. It was dark out; the last lavender traces of the sunset were disappearing along the horizon. Mando was still beside you, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

“Look at him, asleep on the job. I told you he was an old man,” leered Toro.

You felt the cadence of Mando’s breathing shift beside you.

“You’re right. He’s ancient—basically dead already,” you quipped, patting Mando on the knee to signal that you knew he was awake.

Toro couldn’t tell if you were mocking him or joking with him, so he just looked at you, slack-jawed, trying to parse it out.

“Not quite,” Mando said, jabbing you in the ribs lightly with his elbow. Toro started at Mando’s words.

You stood, this time extending a hand down to help Mando up. It was more of a symbolic gesture than anything else—he weighed way more with that armor on than you could ever lift. Nonetheless, he took your hand as he hauled himself to his feet.

“We’re going to ride as fast as we can towards those rocks,” explained Mando, pointing to where Fennec was presumably perched.

“That’s your plan?” scoffed Toro. “She’ll snipe us right off the bikes.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem remember the amazing plan that you came up with?” you sniped, raising your hands in disbelief.

Mando snickered, a short rasp through the modulator, and in answer to Toro’s question, he tossed a small item his way then handed something to you.

“They’re flash charges. You two will alternate shots. It’ll blind any scope temporarily. Combine that with our speed, and we got a chance.”

You looked down at the charge in your hand, noting the button that would set it off.

“A chance?!” blurted Toro.

You bit back a scathing retort, turning back to your bike.

“Hey, you wanted this. Get ready,” replied Mando, tipping his helmet at Toro.

Mando stepped close to you, lowering his voice. “Let me sit in front this time. In case she manages to make any shots.”

You nodded in agreement, appreciating his protective nature.

You mounted the bike behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle, the charge grasped tightly in your right hand. Mando wrenched his wrists down, and your speeder bike took off, with Toro in your wake.

Mando pushed the bike as fast as it could possibly go, launching it over the swells of sand. You gripped him tighter, and the wind whipped the edges of his cape against your legs.

Apparently Fennec spotted you easily from her vantage point on the cliff because she started her assault immediately, firing at Toro’s speeder first.

Mando reached one hand down for a moment to squeeze your arm, and you understood. Holding his waist tightly with your left arm, you reached your right one up into the air to set off the charge. It went off with a screech. Even through your closed eyelids, you registered the blinding flash of light.

Fennec recovered fairly quickly. She resumed firing only moments after the light dissipated. Mando weaved the bike in a serpentine pattern to avoid the shots.

He turned to Toro and yelled, “NOW!”

Toro let off a charge. Another searing light rippled across the landscape.

After a moment, Fennec fired again, her aim becoming more precise as you drew closer to the cliff. This time, she didn’t miss. A direct shot screamed across the sand and hit the front of your speeder bike. You let go of Mando in the jolt of the impact, and you both flew over the top of the bike and landed in the sand.

Ouch.

Toro zoomed past, looking back for only a second. You didn’t like how easily he left you both behind, but logically, you knew that someone needed to get to Fennec as soon as possible.

You stayed prone on the sand, lifting just your head to see where Mando had fallen a few feet ahead of you. You were relieved when he sprang to his feet and ran back towards you. Without any warning, he lowered himself down over you to protect you from any more incoming fire. He braced himself on his elbows and knees so his body was pressed against yours, but he wasn’t crushing you with the combined weight of his body and armor.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice right behind your ear.

“Yeah.” Your face was pressed against the warm sand. “You?”

“Good. You got the charge?”

You handed it up to him. Luckily, you’d managed to hold onto it during the impact. Mando fumbled for a moment, then lifted an arm to set it off.

After the searing light faded and the dark blanket of night returned, another blaster shot landed in the sand a few feet from your head. Mando edged forward and rested his helmet on the sand above your head. You were completely shielded.

“Thanks,” you muttered up to him, slightly self-conscious that this purely protective position was affecting you so much, a slow heat coiling tight in your stomach. His whole body was flush with yours, his breath heavy and fast in your ear, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his armored chest against your back. The places where he wasn’t covered by beskar pressed warmly against you. Think about anything else.

A shot pinged off his back. Mando tensed and grunted at the impact. You gritted your teeth and focused on burying your fingers in the sand, definitely not thinking about what other things might draw similar sounds from him.

“Alright, I think Toro got to her. Let’s go, but stay behind me,” Mando rasped in your ear, squeezing your shoulder with a gloved hand.

You nodded beneath him, stifling the shiver that was threatening to run up your spine. Think about anything else.

He rolled off you, and you both got to your feet. You breathed a sigh of relief and positioned yourself at his back, both of you drawing your blasters. In the dark, you could see red streaks of blaster fire on the cliff where Fennec had been perched.

“We gotta run,” you yelled, pushing him forward. “Toro wont be able to take her alone, Mando!”

You stayed close behind him, a hand on his lower back, so he knew you were with him.

When you reached the foot of the cliff, you could hear Toro’s groans and Fennec’s grunts, but you couldn’t see them. You and Mando scrambled up the sandy incline that was littered with boulders and crested the cliff right as Fennec wrestled Toro to the ground.

“Nice distraction,” said Mando, training his blaster on Fennec. She reluctantly released Toro from her hold and put her hands up in defeat. You waited, partially concealed behind Mando until you knew she was restrained.

Toro grunted in pain as he stood up slowly.

“Cuff yourself,” Mando ordered Fennec, tossing the cuffs in front of her.

“A Mandalorian. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of your kind.” She stood. “Ever been to Nevarro? I hear things didn’t go so well there, but it looks like you got off easy.”

Fuck, just how much has she heard about what went down on Nevarro?

Fennec smiled even wider when you stepped out from behind Mando. There was no avoiding her now. Sure enough, recognition flickered in her eyes.

Uh oh.

“Well, well, well... if it isn’t my favorite bounty,” she drawled, and before you could react, your name—your real name—fell from her lips. “You lead me all over the damn galaxy, sweetheart.”

***

Chapter 6