#I'm not sure whether any of this is going to be permanent because my scar tissue addled brain can't take much more of a beating

[nightmaretour]

Literally everyone I've spoken to, including two paramedics, think the cortisone injections are the way to go and would give me a much better quality of life. However the NHS has decided that I can't have them until we know that I'm still in pain after my brain has been liquified by the maximum dose of three different controlled drugs

[judasgot-it]

Soulmate AU

"I can't believe you said that. You know that's going to be on my chest for the rest of my life now, right?"

Scenario: You and your soulmate meet. It's hard convincing yourselves that it's a good thing.

I'm timeskipping a bit, think of this as a sort of slowburn lol.

8,700 k words (jesus crhist)

Every person had spots on their body that marked the things that showed what their soulmate did that day.

Typically, they appeared at the age of five. Usually, they would be words and sentences, or pictures, sometimes depicting ideas. It was representative of what their soulmate was like - sometimes they were in different languages, or had patterns that only their soulmate could discern.

There was always one mark that would appear, and stay on the body for what was usually for the rest of someone's life. Sometimes small, sometimes big.

Some people were born with theirs. Others had theirs appear at the end of their life. They were rather random, it seemed.

Yours was strange. It wasn't a picture, and it wasn't a poem. It wasn't a sentence, and it wasn't anything compared to your family or classmates. When you were twelve, you had gained a large pattern on your back - something that if you reached around, you could feel mostly with your fingers.

If you squinted, you could maybe see it, but it seemed invisible.

Your mother had told you that it was almost like a scar, but it wasn't ugly. There was a pattern, but no one seemed to really know what it meant.

It was hard to really know what it was from looking at it in the mirror. To you, it looked like just a splattering of lighter and darker skin, now slightly raised in some areas. It was only visible in the light, and looked like you had splashed bleach on your skin.

All you knew was that it hadn't gone away in weeks. The doctor had said that it was most likely one of those marks that lived forever, and was possibly a sign that your soulmate was blind. Either that or some sort of fucked up artist.

It had left you angry for months. You didn't know why, but it upset you - maybe because you had expected a poem that would tell you how much you were adored, like your friend had. Or cute portrait, of some beautiful vacation spot.

You still wanted to dream. But instead, you got something had you scratching your back like a madman, trying to understand something that you couldn't. It left you impatient, trying to understand a puzzle that apparently, only a blind man or an asshole could solve.

Maybe both.

When you met your soulmate, you were going to slap the shit out of him.

-

At sixteen, you had debated on whether or not your soulmate was worth 'waiting for' or 'finding'. There was a big debate going on for decades anyway - was it worth falling in love with your soulmate?

Part of you wanted to try falling in love with someone else. Maybe it was because you had seen soulmates who hated each other - they had words permanently etched onto their bodies that said:

"I hate you" and "I hope that you die"

Seemed like proof enough that it was fake.

Your own soulmate seemed less like a real concept, and more like a cloud in the sky. There were never pictures of his day, or that many words to hear about. It was only feelings - there were cuts that had showed up along your skin, long lines that were in concerning places.

Once you had one show up along your chest, underneath your breast. You weren't sure if it would work, but you had written "Stay alive" and hoped it would show up along his skin. You wrote it in Sharpie and kept it there for days, just in case he needed the reminder.

He never seemed to have any words back. The only words you ever read on your skin were concerning. Once, words had shown up along your arm, written in a messy cursive, almost impossible to read:

"Go ahead and kill yourself. I don't need you anyway."

That started to convince you that your soulmate might have deserved the knife in the chest.

Despite this, you could never bring yourself to go past a second date. None of the guys who asked you out seemed to really 'click' in the way you really thought you would.

One of them was so bad, you had taken the Sharpie out and had added "I love you" close to where you remember adding the line.

If your soulmate really was blind, it was most likely a stupid thing to write - if it even showed up. But it made you feel better in the moment, so what was the harm?

-

When you were in your 20s, you had graduated university.

You didn't know what your soulmate was doing, but you had started to care less than you did when you were younger.

Before, it tore at you - there were a lot of dreams and ideas you had of what he was like, and what it would be like when you finally met the one person made for you.

Over time, you learned to accept that there was a chance you might not ever meet him. You knew people like that - those whose soulmates died, and those who never had them. Those who had met them late in life, and were still living good lives.

You had become content. In a way, your life had become better, knowing that you didn't need someone else there in order to live your own life.

There were friends you had. And you had an apartment. And now, you had a new job, one that was respectable and you had worked hard for. Life was looking up.

Part of you was convinced that your soulmate was either dead or still living a life that would lead to it. The marks that showed up were the same as when you were sixteen - they were lesser than before, but they were still scary when they did show up.

There were more words now as well. Something changed, as they were more positive.

"Stay behind me, I'll protect you."

That was one that had shown up today. Along your inner thigh, making you glad you wore shorts today.

Maybe he wasn't in a gang but was just a cop with a bad attitude. Unfortunately, your soulmate had never said his name, and you had no clues as to how to find him.

-

This job was great. But god, the military really couldn't keep a damn thing organized.

You might be the only person who knew where anything was at this point. Which left you carrying several boxes of confidential files to the office of Ouchi Fukuchi directly, because no one else knew where to find the paperwork that was needed.

He was also three months behind on all of it. Which was fine, it was only a matter of national security, after all. It wasn't an important thing, really. Who cared?

You weren't stressed about it at all.

"Do you need help?" A voice filtered through the elevator, and you almost cried with relief. The boxes were heavy, and based on the man's voice, he sounded like someone who actually could handle carrying them.

Unlike you at the moment, who was using every last bit of strength you had in order to keep them from spilling all over the carpet at the moment.

You worked at a desk. This was more lifting in a day than you did a year. Yes, of course you could use some help. Obviously.

"Yes. Can you push the number for Mr. Fukuchi's office? And also grab one of these boxes? If you aren't busy."

You were praying that he wasn't busy. Those few seconds as you waited felt like hell, but eventually you felt the man's hands touch your own, taking the boxes from your arms and relieving the agonizing weight from your spine.

Sighing, you leaned against the elevator door, feeling how it slowly lifted up to the highest story. Slowly, because despite appearances, the Hunting Dogs headquarters had disgustingly slow elevators despite the million-dollar planes they had parked in the vicinity.

The stairs might have been faster, honestly.

You could also have avoided the man's staring - the brunette was tall, and he glanced at your exposed skin as if you were naked. You turned to the doors, avoiding his gaze.

"Do you, know your soulmate?"

The man was blunt, his honey eyes staring directly at your wrist. He was holding the boxes as if they weighed nothing, and watching him made your back hurt more. What did they feed those military guys?

"No, I don't. Sorry, I know it's nasty. I feel bad for whoever Tecchou is, he doesn't seem to get along with him."

You tried to laugh it off, looking down at your wrist. Right there, you could see what your soulmate had said today, in the same messy cursive he always spoke in:

"Go to hell Tecchou, your food is always shit and I hope you die."

It had only shown up right when you had to go and deliver the files. Because of course it did - your soulmate really had to embarrass you like that in front of everyone.

You remembered when you were twelve you said you would smack the shit out of him. Maybe you would still do that, because right now it felt embarrassing to be stared at like that.

It wasn't your fault your soulmate had such a foul mouth.

Now you were going to meet the leader of the Hunting Dogs, and he was going to see what an embarrassment of a soulmate you had.

Thank god it wasn't on your forehead, at least.

The doors of the elevator opened, and you tried to keep your body straight and rigid, waiting for a greeting from Fukuchi himself. You watched the brunette walk in with the files, straight to the front of the desk as if it were habit.

You followed behind him, hoping you made a good impression.

"Ouchi Fukuchi! I am-"

Before you could finish your greeting, the man held a hand towards you.

"Tecchou, didn't I tell you to take a walk?" The older man was stern, and you stayed silent in hopes that he didn't turn his cold gaze towards you.

"...She looked like she was struggling." His voice was deep and monotone, and he looked almost bored from behind the stack of files he was hiding behind.

"So you decided to be an errand boy?"

"Yes."

There was a silence. You couldn't tell what was going on between the two men, but you were terrified. The look Fukuchi gave was terrifying, worse than was portrayed in the films you had seen before - he was scarier in person. His gaze was intense, as if he was trying to kill the man with his eyes.

"Sir, if I may add. They are very heavy, and I appreciated the help a lot."

You didn't know what came over you. Both men looked at you, and it had you putting your arms and head down, praying that the floor would eat you.

Fuck. You just needed to deliver the files and just go back to your office. You didn't even work for the Hunting Dogs, you worked for a completely different part of the government. This wasn't your business to get into.

"Sorry. Um...Those files, there is a file on top about their contents. They are to be completed and sent out ASAP. Requested by the prime minister. Apologies."

Your voice was firm, despite the sweat that was collecting on your palms. Without looking at anyone or anything, you nodded at the men and walked out, pressing the button for the ground floor several times.

This was terrifying.

-

The Hunting Dogs were hunting you. Ironic, but you now had one of them showing up at your office, wanting to 'talk' - what was there to even talk about?

You had only been there for maybe ten minutes at most, like, a week ago. If something happened in that facility, you had no part in it.

If you could, you would hide underneath your desk forever. But that most likely made them think you were guilty of whatever crime they suspected you of, and you did not want to seem like a criminal to them.

Their investigation tactics were more than infamous. You did not want to become another horror story.

Steeling yourself, you walked out, bracing for the inevitable interrogation that was about to follow. The man that was waiting for you was standing with a little girl - you vaguely remembered her as the vice-captain, although the man you couldn't really place his name.

His two-toned hair seemed familiar though. You might have seen it on a photograph before, when you were told about the group in a discussion about how lazy they were with paperwork. His closed eyes seemed strange, but tried to avoid them.

The man smiled at you, and it seemed more calculating than warm and friendly. The girl, someone you remembered to be known for her combat skills, didn't seem to be interested. She only blinked at you, bored at your office outfit.

You had to convince him that you were innocent. Of whatever it was that they had thought you were guilty of.

"So. Trying to get all pretty for me?"

The man was grinning, and you didn't know what to say. He had taken a step closer, and out tried to stay as still as possible, slowing your breathing.

If it was fight or flight, you chose freeze.

Keeping your face calm was hard, but you paused your breaths, trying your best to keep your body as cool as possible as the two didn't state why it was urgent that they speak to you. In the middle of your work day.

"Um. Is there a reason why you guys asked to see me?"

You were staring at the daisy-haired man's forehead, praying that he didn't notice that you were trying your hardest to not make eye contact with him.

"Did you deliver files to Fukuchi?"

The girl was bored, rocking her feet back and forth, slapping the man next to her with her ponytail.

"Um. Yes. I did."

"And did you meet a man named Tecchou Suehiro while you were there?"

"The brunette?"

"Yes. And tall, with three stupid tattoos under his eyes. Did you meet him?"

"I believe so, yes. He helped me carry the files to Mr. Fukuchi's office."

"What did your arm say that day?"

That was an odd question. That wouldn't have something to do with any sort of crime, would it? Or were you not thinking straight?

"Oh. Something about killing a man named Tecchou."

It felt like a pause button had been pressed at that moment.

Tecchou was an uncommon name. And Fukuchi had certainly called that man in the elevator by that name as well. How could you have missed that detail?

"...Why are you asking me about that?"

Tecchou had asked about the mark too, now that you had thought of it.

"Did my soulmate kill him?"

Either that, or Tecchou had killed him, and this was how you were going to find out that your soulmate was dead. He was dead and gone before you had ever gotten to meet him. Just one of those tragic cases of a love that never got to happen.

You steeled yourself for the news, taking in a deep breath.

"Jouno your soulmate is stupid."

The girl walked away, huffing and shaking her head. The man in front of you, Jouno, clapped your shoulder, breathing out a sigh.

"Tecchou is still alive. Unfortunatly."

The man's eyes hadn't opened to look at you, staying closed as he struggled to find the words. He was in your space, and you could taste how he struggled to find the words to say what he wanted to say.

Somehow, he was still smiling through the awkwardness, but you had started to realize-

He was blind. And your soulmate.

Your soulmate was always blind.

The strange spot on your back made more sense now. It wasn't some stupid art piece, but most certainly something he felt because he was blind.

"-I don't think I need to say anything. You know."

The man gave up on forming sentences, instead choosing to rub your shoulder and smile.

"Um. Yeah."

You spent nearly twenty years waiting to meet this man, and this is all you had to say? Wasn't there something more?

"Um. Shouldn't we do something?" His hand was still on you, and you didn't know if you should tell him to let go or not. This was the first time you had ever met, and frankly - you actually liked it a little bit. He was warm, and he didn't give you a weird feeling compared to some other people.

"Do what?"

"I don't know. We're soulmates. Shouldn't we like, have a moment?"

In the movies you had seen, there were soulmates who would meet and have a 'magical contact' moment. You couldn't look into his eyes and swoon, but surely he was having a magic moment right now? Wasn't he going to ask you on a date and try to live with you forever or something?

This should have been the start of...something.

"No. This is good enough. Honestly, I'd rather not see you again."

Or not.

His face didn't portray anything - he was still smiling, as if he was working at a front desk and not meeting his soulmate for the first time. You felt like you were looking into it, but surely he also wanted something more?

That smile couldn't be real.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. It's nothing with you, but it's probably best if we don't try to make this a thing."

He let go finally, and that shoulder felt cold as he stepped away. You didn't know what to say, watching as he slowly removed himself from the little bubble the two of you had.

There was magic, and there was no magic. It was a mirage, more like it.

"So. You just, wanted to meet me, I guess?"

"Just know that you're alive. And you are. Good for us."

Us. But there is no us, because there is no thing, apparently. Just a him, and now you had to suppose a you. A lonely, singular you.

"Sorry. Um. Yeah, okay. Then let's not talk. That's fine."

It wasn't. Or maybe it was. You didn't know what to think, because your soulmate, who you now knew was the Hunting Dog Jouno, had come and gone in what felt like a matter of seconds.

But you supposed that was the end of it. You met your soulmate, and you would never see him again.

So why were you about to cry?

-

Ever since that meeting, the universe had been playing tricks on you. Or whoever had deemed soulmates to be a thing.

Before, whatever Jouno had put onto your body was so abstract that you could barely understand it. Now it felt like he was playing tricks on you.

"If I die, I don't care."

It felt like he was playing a game. You had only met him once, but if he died, you would care.

You would care so much.

The petty part of you had taken to those high school days, grabbing your sharpie and writing little responses underneath those types of sentences.

"I care." and "I love you, stay safe." was something you had started to write over and over again on your body.

It likely didn't matter. He was blind. But if it ever showed up on his skin, you hoped someone on his team would see it.

Part of you wanted to write it on your forehead and neck, just to shame him. Maybe he didn't care, but you cared - he would have everyone know just how much his soulmate cares about him.

But you didn't want to wash that off. You also were sure that your concealer wasn't going to cover that up.

It would just make the both of you look stupid.

-

Your day was just going great.

Great. As in, you were stuck next to a shitty criminal, who was pulling at your nice dress and tearing the buttons along the back.

This was expensive.

God. What a dickhead.

And who was going to save you from this guy? He had some weird fucked up ability, and it was freaking you out.

You didn't really deal with that stuff.

This was a time when you chose to freeze again. You wanted to choose something else - to fight back and be brave, or to run, do something.

But you felt frozen. It was honestly hard to breathe, but that might have been from how your dress was pulling against your neck, restricting your airflow.

"Oh shit, it's the Hunting Dogs."

The guy next to you groaned, and you tried your hardest to disappear as you felt him tug and pull you around.

The gunshots were loud, and you were stuck choosing between covering your ears and pulling against your dress as the man tried to choke you with it.

You chose your ears, in the end. However many gunshots he fired, you didn't count, instead trying your best to become a ball. One that would be unmovable, immune to the hellfire that was happening.

Maybe if you became deadweight, he would drop you and run away. He had no reason for you, right?

You didn't know why he chose to use you as a distraction anyway. This was your day off, couldn't he have chosen any other person?

"Goddammit, I said get up!"

The man pulled at your hair, and you screamed. As much as you fought back, clawing at his arms, he started to drag you away from his little spot in the building, to the open area where you could see a whole crowd had gathered.

It was hard to see if any of the Hunting Dogs were actually there, as you could only focus on the pain you were in.

Weren't they going to do their jobs? What the fuck was taking so long.

This felt like it was taking forever. This guy was tugging you around, and talking about something that you couldn't even bring yourself to care about. It was something that a man who would try to blow up a building would say - they're spying on us, they're killing us, they made it all up. Whoever they are, and whoever the us is. It didn't matter, because now your day was ruined.

Maybe you were pathetic, still trying to fight back. The guy seemed ridiculously strong.

"Run."

The word was whispered to you, in a soft voice and with a gentle hand on your back. It might have only been a second - but the moment the grip loosened on your hair, you took the moment to run.

God knows where. But you ran. It might have been the fastest you had ever been in your life, if you were being honest with yourself.

You were just glad the nightmare was over.

-

Ever since that...event. You haven't had a good dream since.

It was hard too. You would wake up to the violent hair pulling, the smells, and there would be that voice at the end each time.

You would be crying, and each time the voice would say something different. In real life, all he had said was "Run" but in your dreams, he said rather sweet things.

They were things that frankly, you had wanted to hear. He had a gentle voice for a man, and it was hard to believe that it was the same voice as your soulmate.

You kept pretending that it wasn't him. As time went on, you were more hurt by the words he said, you started to pretend that the voice you heard was just a different man you had conjured up.

Something you made while you were delirious with fear. And now he was haunting your dreams, because you were a lonely and loveless woman, who couldn't stop crying in her kitchen because she was scared of something that had already happened.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid, and you just wanted to be over it. But for some reason, you were left sitting at the table again, forcing yourself to drink a glass of water and play through another round of solitaire.

The knocking on the door scared the shit out of you.

...

Another knock.

Fuck.

Gettting up, you stalked slowly to the door, hoping that the intruder to your miserable peace wouldn't hear your approach the door. You wanted to pretend you weren't there, even if it was obvious you were home.

Another knock.

Loud ones. Impatient ones.

"I know you're in there. Listen, I just need to talk to you real quick."

Peeping through the peephole, you saw him - Jouno, who was clad in a dandelion bedhead and grey sweatpants. His hoodie was a strange faded color, and you were sure it was old enough to be his father's.

Taking a moment, you breathed as you watched him. It was hard to believe he was standing there, actually at the front of your door.

At like what, two in the morning?

You opened the door a little bit, feeling the cold night air breeze by. It made you pull yourself closer together, as the shirt you wore barely covered you enough to protect you from the cold.

Thank god Jouno was blind at least. He would see a lot more than he bargained for, you imagined.

"...What do you want?" You wished you could have your voice sound firm, like an interrogator. But you could still hear the tears in your voice, and it made you want to hide in your bed like a mole dug into the dirt.

You sounded so lame.

"Listen. Let me in, real quick."

He was smiling, the same one that you saw when you first met him. Like a fucking customer service representative, trying to sell you something. At two in the morning.

"I'm not a booty call."

"No, what? Just let me inside-" You started to close the door, not caring for the force you used. He could handle it.

"Bring me flowers if you want to ask me for anything next time."

Jouno fought back easily, but was polite enough to stay between the door and the entryway. He only kept half of his body there to maintain conversation, allowing you the ability to slam the door on him if you so wished.

It was tempting, at that moment.

"I need you to listen. This isn't sex or anything."

"Can't you say it in the morning? Some people sleep."

That was a lie, but you weren't in the right mind to speak to him at that moment. He made you emotional - maybe his whole existence was making you feel too much, but that was likely heightened by the fact that you hadn't slept well for the last few nights.

"That's exactly it! You aren't sleeping. Now I can't sleep. So let me in, because I want to go to sleep-"

He pushed through your hold of the door. He had both let himself in, and you had let him.

"You're so selfish."

For some stupid reason, you had let him into your home and had already started to cry again. It had taken so long to calm down, and now you were starting the process all over again.

God, you were really starting to hate your soulmate for doing this to you.

"What? What's selfish about that?"

"You came here just so you could sleep. Why don't you figure out a way to go to sleep on your own!"

The words were spilling out of your mouth, and frankly whatever you said was not even registering in your brain.

All you knew was that you were feeling a lot at the moment. You hadn't felt like this since you were twelve and had the big mark show up on your back, making you mad for weeks.

Maybe you were still mad. And you were remembering it all just now.

Or maybe you were just really tired.

"I did try! I took enough melatonin to kill a man, but you won't let me sleep with your stupid nightmares!"

The man in front of you looked stressed, and you wanted to feel bad. But at the moment, your mind could only think of the worst words to say to him, to twist anything to try and hurt him.

You took a breath. A deep one, feeling how you were choking your brain from oxygen.

Why were you screaming at each other at two in the morning?

"Listen. I know PTSD is stressful, but you can find a way to cope with it, can't you?"

Jouno put his hands on your shoulders. He stepped into your space, and he was so close you could smell the coffee on his breath.

Maybe it wasn't you, but the caffeine he was drinking so goddamn late into the night.

"I don't have PTSD. I've never been to war."

"Then what is this then." He shook you, as if you were the stupid one here, despite walking over to someone's home in the middle of the night.

"Just something I need to get over."

That's something you had always been told. And you were sure it was something that would go away. Eventually.

"See. This is the problem. You don't even know how to deal with the problem you have. And now, I can't sleep."

The man didn't give you a chance to argue back. Before you could say anything, he hauled you onto his shoulder, his hand traveling along your back.

Desperately, you grabbed at his sweatshirt, pulling at the fabric and praying you wouldn't fall onto your face.

"Where's your bedroom? You're sleeping whether you want to or not."

Without caring to listen, he attempted to navigate your home anyway. It was a little entertaining, feeling how he turned his body in circles as he tried to figure out where to go.

"That's the wrong way. It's the other way. On the left."

You pitied him. If only a little bit.

-

"Is sleeping really that hard for you?"

Your bed wasn't small, but Jouno made it feel small with just his presence alone. His body was warmer than yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as you laid side by side, with a few fingers space between each other.

Now that you had though about it, you never had really made space for another person in your bed before. There really was only enough space for you.

"I have a strange man in my bed, can you blame me?"

"I'm your soulmate, I'm not just anyone."

Now he wanted to be something. When he wanted it to benefit him.

Maybe you were deeply bitter about the way he rejected ever wanting to be anything at all.

"You really are selfish, you know? You said you didn't want this to be a thing, but now you're going on about being my soulmate."

Because that meant something. It meant having an actual bond, a sort of relationship. This wasn't anything - at most, you had vague conversations, and now he was just a man in your bed who was upset at you for a stupid reason.

And you were mad at him. And you hoped he knew that.

"I wouldn't do this if I couldn't sleep. We're just...people who need each other."

His voice sounded off. As off as you could tell, as if he was lying, even to himself.

Why did he say these things if even he didn't believe them?

"Do I really need you?" You said the words only loud enough that the pillow could hear you, hoping that he had finally managed to go to sleep, or thought that you had.

But you felt him turn around, bouncing the bed and pulling at the blanket the two of you shared.

Of course he heard it somehow. What a freak.

"Clearly! You couldn't even save yourself. You're lucky I was there."

He was closer now, his voice nearly kissing your ears. You groaned, his volume too loud for your wallowing.

"That's your job, isn't it? To save people?"

Waving him off, you didn't bother to face him - like it would matter, when he couldn't even see you. Instead, you hugged the pillow in front of you closer, feeling how the cold fabric kissing your exposed skin.

It was rather cold for the summertime.

"...I didn't want to know you more, because I didn't want you to be hurt."

His breath tickled your neck, and somewhere along the bed you could feel his fingers dance along the fabric, far too close to your shoulders.

You didn't know him too well, but his touch didn't bother you as much as you wanted to pretend it did.

"How were you going to hurt me?"

"My job. I'm going to die, eventually. It'll be a miracle if I reach 40."

His voice was gentle, without the tone of an insurance agent. He sounded honest; speaking as if he really meant what he said.

It left you breathless, and you had to remind yourself that you needed to breathe in order to live.

"That doesn't mean anything. I would still like to know you when you're here."

There was a laugh behind you, a tired one. Maybe he was only saying these things because he was also exhausted.

A lack of sleep was worse than drugs, you had once heard before.

You couldn't even open your eyes anymore at this point. It was just your mind fighting you.

"That would be nice. But I'm not the best person, I would just make your life miserable. You're right, I am really selfish."

"I know. But I think you're worth it Jouno."

-

After that night, something felt different. Your body felt different.

For one thing, you now had Jouno's phone number. He had texted you, and told you to call him in case of emergencies only.

You had learned that meant when you couldn't couldn't sleep, he really couldn't sleep. And when you couldn't eat, he couldn't eat. and it was an emergency.

Maybe because he was blind, his soulbond appeared differently. It wasn't visual at all, but instead tormented him with your own physical sensations.

It had you wondering if he had ever felt your pain. Or felt anything else you felt.

It wasn't a conversation you were willing to have just yet. You had just started to feel comfortable texting and calling him.

Having him sleep in the same bed was as far as you two had gone, and it had only happened a few times after. He had shared meals with you as well, after you lost your appetite from a bad stomach bug.

It was a strange relationship you had formed. You weren't sure if you were ever going to get closer than you were.

Maybe you were ok with knowing him like this. Like a strange acquaintance, learning weird bits and pieces about him, with unanswered questions that you were too scared to ask.

He was your soulmate. Maybe he didn't need to be anything more than that.

-

"You know, because of you, I can't really go out shirtless anymore."

Jouno was relaxed against the table, bored as he played around with the food on his plate. Recently he wasn't able to each much at all, and you had stayed over for the last while.

But it didn't seem to have much to do with you. Right now you were stuffed, and it seemed like it was all on Jouno at the moment. He had only eaten a quarter of his plate, and you had considered feeding it to him like a child so he would eat more of it.

"Why?"

"Because. You put this on my chest."

Jouno leaned up from the table and forgot his food; taking off his cotton T-shirt, revealing what you had always believed would be there.

Two lines, right by a little ugly scar - "Stay safe, I love you."

They were a little close together, not a work of art by any means. Your handwriting on someone's skin looked...funny. Almost unreal. It looked blotched out, and it reminded you too well of how stupid you were as a teenager, tracing over the Sharpie over and over again, hoping your blind soulmate would see it.

"You're mad about it?"

"It looks like a shitty tattoo."

That was your one mark on him forever. And he called it a shitty tattoo. It wasn't like the stupid daily quotes and one-liners, it was forever.

God forbid you care about someone.

"...I thought you got stabbed." You didn't really see the point in getting hurt by what he said in anymore. This was just how Jouno was.

"Did you feel it?"

"Don't get excited! No! Weirdo!"

You kicked him from underneath the table, easily kicking at his long calves as they stuck out towards your space. Always your space, because he was a tall freak who loved to walk into the space of others, and yours was his favorite.

The man in front of you only giggled, playing footsie with his too-cold feet.

"I see it. Every time you get hurt, it shows up on my skin. You don't really give me pictures or colors. Sometimes I see sentences, but it's not enough. But I always know when you get hurt."

Which was true. You didn't have his scars, but you knew when they hurt. Because the little lines showed up.

"Not enough? Do you like hearing about my day?"

The man's voice sounded ecstatic, smiling as he trapped your feet between his own, almost in a handshake. Maybe he was playing with you, trying to flirt when he didn't mean it at all.

"I like it when you say positive things. It's not really common, you usually are threatening to kill people. It gets boring after a while."

You let him win, instead choosing to take a bite out of his uneaten food. It was right there, and you might as well take your chance, right?

"Well it did help me find you, didn't it?"

"I guess. Yeah."

You tried to take another bite, but the daisy-haired man took you hand and led the fork straight to his mouth. Part of you wanted to kill him, if it wasn't his food you were stealing from.

Maybe you actually cared about him, despite how weird he was.

"Can I ask you something?"

Jouno nodded, starting to eat now knowing that you were willing to take from his plate. Watching him was funny - trying to be as unmessy as he could, while smearing half of his face in sauce.

It was a little cute, seeing him struggle each time.

"Since I was twelve, there's this...mark, on my back. It's not really something you can see, but something you can more feel. It should be related to you, since no doctor has had an explanation for it."

Saying that was strange. The culprit was right in front of you, and now you were asking him politely, despite him being a man who broke into your home at least three times now.

"What do you think it is?" He spoke with his mouthful and no table manners, and at this rate you would rather have him eat with his hands.

"I don't know! Some fucked up masterpiece by a blind asshole I'm attached to for life. If you're an artist, I'm smacking the shit out of you."

You were starting to remember that promise when you were twelve. It really irked you that you hadn't kept to it yet.

"What? Why?"

"Because it's annoying."

Since it showed up, it ruined a lot of things for you - your expectations of your relationship, your fantasies, your dreams. It was really a bad premonition, because Jouno was just like that mark - fucking impossible to understand. And stuck to you for life.

"I can't believe you think the mark that signifies me, and our bond, is annoying. Wow, you hate me."

"You called mine a shitty tattoo!"

He stopped chewing like a marmot, going back slowly as he registered your words.

"...Okay. And?"

"Whatever. But you should get it." At the very least, if he was going to be a thorn in your side forever, he was going to be a useful one, and solve this for you.

"Why would I?"

"Don't play coy with me! That's how soulmates work! Didn't anyone tell you anything!"

"No not really. I honestly figured I would die before I met you, so I never cared."

He said this normally, as if he had said it before. It was just more dinner talk to him, as he chewed senselessly on his salad.

"...what?"

"I just never thought it would matter. I didn't think we would even meet, and I never thought about what would happen next. I don't think it's that big of a deal, really."

The world turned silent to you, as you heard him say that.

I never cared. I don't think its that big of a deal.

Then what were you doing here?

-

You never got your answer for that mark.

Stupid Jouno had disappeared to East Europe for the last two weeks, and you haven't heard back from him. Maybe you didn't want to.

He never cared.

You had spent years, before even knowing him, caring about what he would be like. You cared when he got stabbed, and you cared even when he rejected you.

But he never cared at all.

Did he never think about you? Not when you had broken your wrist? He felt your pain, didn't he feel that?

When you went to work today, you thought about getting hit by a car and seeing if he would call. Just to know if you were okay.

But that was selfish. He was probably busy, and making someone else feel the pain of getting hit by a car was more than a dick move.

You also needed that money from your job. They paid your rent, not your soulmate. That would stay a fantasy, and a dead one; where you and Jouno could function like a normal couple, and live together and maybe even get married.

If he was just a normal man. Who didn't say stupid things and hurt your feelings that you hated you had.

It was ruining the makeup that you spent hours on this morning.

-

"Hey."

"...It's been two months, and that's all you have to say? Hey?"

You had been ready to receive the news that he had died while he was there. Or at least see it on TV. He was practically MIA with the other Hunting Dogs, and no one in the government knew what the hell was going on.

"Listen. It's been a rough two months. When I come back, I want to see you. First thing.

"The hell am I to you? A dog? Should I come back with the morning newspaper?"

"I didn't realize you came with perks." He sounded exhausted over the phone, but his laugh was still the same. It managed to annoy you as well, even after not hearing it for two months.

"Go fuck yourself!"

"...Are you mad at me?"

Yes. You honestly had been mad at him since you knew him, but that wasn't something you wanted to admit to yet.

"No. You just caught me at a bad time."

"Just be at my apartment, alright? And wear that short dress with the strings. Or nothing at all."

"Is this a bootycall?"

"I call you for more things than that."

What an asshole. Jouno was supposed to be a logical man, but he had no clue how to navigate a human relationship it seemed. It was as if he was stepping on seashells every time, and you had to watch them crumble underneath his stupid boots.

He is horrible at navigating anyone's emotions. He only seemed to be able to hurt them.

You tried to keep your voice calm, despite the fact you wanted to cry. Part of you was proud that only your eyes were wet, knowing that Jouno wouldn't know how much he bothered you with his stupidity.

"We aren't anything. This is something."

"...Can we be something? I miss you."

He was almost whimpering over the receiver, and you hoped that someone on the other end could record what he looked like. Because he must have looked funny, begging and pleading like a dog.

"I'm expecting flowers. Or chocolate."

"You like dark, right? You have horrible tastebuds."

"Says the idiot who drinks more milk than coffee." He really should just add an espresso shot to his glass of milk, it was disgusting how much he added and then claimed he loved caffeine.

"Okay. Whatever. Love you."

God, what the hell was wrong with Jouno?

-

"The mark on your back."

Jouno's hand trailed up your spine, his fingers dancing along the little lines that made up the mark, as if reading it like a page in a book.

It felt good.

"Yeah?"

"It's a map." His lips were right above your ear, and you could feel how his breath fanned across your face. This man had no sense of personal space around you.

"Okay. And of what?"

"It's a map of my childhood home. I haven't been there in years. I don't know why it's on your back."

His fingers went lower, to the little part that was raised more than the rest. It looked like a mole, although the skin around it gave the impression of a faded scar, from what you had been told.

"How do you know it's a map?"

"I memorize everywhere I've been."

"And you know just by feeling it?" His hand splayed out against your back, making you feel small. Jouno's hands were not as soft as voice, and you could feel the work he put in them as his callouses brushed against your skin.

"I've never felt it before. But I know. It's strange that it's on your body."

"Well, it means something. It's been there since forever."

Over a decade now. It had taunted you for over a decade.

"...I haven't been there in a long time."

The man plopped his body down next to you, drapping half of himself on top of you. He was heavy, and his face was nearly smushed against your own as he lay there, as if he were a weighted blanket and not a man.

"You know there's another half of the bed, right? You own a king-sized mattress."

And silk sheets, that smelt really good.

He could roll over and still have space to spread out. There was no reason for him to treat your space like it was his own.

"You smell good." To exaggerate, he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer, smelling your neck and ear as if you were a living room candle.

You tried to push him away, laughing as he stuck his nose in the one ticklish spot along your neck, but it was hard to fight in the position you were in. Pulling against his hair and kicking against him was futile as he pulled you in closer, grabbing you two into a hold as he decided that your sweaty body was the best thing he had smelled since soap had been invented.

"Freak!" It was hard to stay serious as his arm danced along your sides, having you choke on the word as it sputtered out in laughter.

Jouno only laughed at your struggles. Because of course they were funny to a sadist like him.

-

"I um. I got you flowers."

Jouno looked funny when he tried to be anything other than a soldier or an asshole.

He dressed up - and not to beat a man to death, but because he was seeing you. On a date.

The first one since you had actually known each other. It was such a mundane thing, but it felt like you were seeing a wild animal playing dress up. His hair was done as nice as it usually was, and he was dressed in an outfit that you could picture him wearing to an event - he looked like he didn't have a criminal record.

The flowers added to it, bouncing from in front of him and between his side, as if he had never given a woman flowers in his life before.

His smile said otherwise, which couldn't help but make you laugh inside.

"For?"

"To apologize." He decided to push them into your hands, grabbing them around the stems and making sure you weren't going to drop them to the floor.

You would never do that. They smelled too nice.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"There's a lot of times I've made you cry. Usually, you apologize for that." His voice was low, as he fixed the bouquet he couldn't see. His hands were nervously looking for things to pick at, as if they had eyes of their own and could fix the world one little detail at a time.

His face stayed frozen in his stupid little smile.

"Well, it's not like I'm upset about it now."

"Can't you just accept some flowers?"

His hands decided to fix your hair, brushing down flyaways that didn't exist. If you stared only at his smile, you would think he was as calm as a still pond.

"...They're nice." They were your favorites. They matched what your childhood self had pictured for her stupid little wedding day. One you had given up on, but still wanted to believe in.

Maybe still did, in some way.

Jouno wasn't exactly what you pictured - he looked more like a fox than a handsome prince, and the way he smelled your head right now was more weird than romantic, but you were willing to take it.

He might have been your handsome prince.

"So is there a date planned? Or are we just standing in a park?"

"Why do you always question me?"

"You don't really know what you're doing."

Jouno was a brilliant man in a lot of things. But god he could not make up his mind when it came to you and what he wanted out of this.

Was this really that hard?

"You've seen me at work."

"Okay? Are we going to kill bank robbers or something? Is that our first date?"

The man most certainly had his gun on him, which confused you, because you knew that he hated using it more than any other weapon he owned. But yet you were sure that tucked away in his Chelsea boots was his little handgun, that he would pull out in a moment's notice.

Maybe he had one tucked away in his pants somewhere. He didn't seem to bring his sword, which is the only weapon he hadn't complained about to you yet.

"...It's the boring romance stuff. You like that."

"It's not boring-"

"I've seen your movies. It's boring."

He rolled his shoulders back, scanning the park as his earring danced against his neck.

"And what do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Never really thought about it." His hands started to dance along your jacket, pulling against the lapels as if there was lint that he could actually see.

"Maybe you actually like the boring stuff, and just don't know it."

You started to ignore him, instead deigning to walk ahead of him with the bouquet he gave you.

Were you going to carry this the entire time?

"A walk in the park? You think that's fun?" He only took two big steps to catch up to you, and you dared to kick at him. You didn't care if you were trying to trip a blind man - Jouno wasn't a regular blind man, and he would probably throw you both into the grass eventually after one of you said something stupid.

"It's fun when it's with people you love."

Taking the bouquet, you gently slapped him with it. The daisy-haired man snorted back.

This is close enough to what you wanted.

Hey guys ignore the fact that I originally uploaded this half unfinished yesterday! This is for my Valentine's day event, so go check that out lol. Also sorry that its. So long.

[williamkisser]

A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*

♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O

♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*

♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400

♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.

♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.

♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.

♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.

♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.

♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.

♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.

♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.

♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.

♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn��t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.

Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night

[quinloki]

Sooo imagine reader/ y/n escapes, they get to an island for a couple months evade capture but then marinford happens and the wb pirates are disbanded/scatters or doin there own thing but one of them end up on the same island as y/n with the obsession still intact and finding them again has rekindled it even more.

How would they react on when they're alone without the other's input?would they contact each other and group up? what would be going through their heads?

(yan au where everyone survives except wb)

💧-anon

(feel free to completely ignore my ramblings but i have so many things i think ab and need to tell/ask ❤️)

I feel how someone would react would depend on the crew member. I'm not going to hit up everyone, just my usual suspects, so bear with me.

CW: Yandere, dub con / non con vibes, nothing explicit a lot of what ifs and summaries.

Marco would not contact anyone else. I love this man, but Yandere Marco is POSSESSIVE. He shares you with his brothers only because they are his brothers. If no one else ended up on this island with you and him then that's a them problem, and not HIS problem.

Depending on the manner of your escape would depend how Marco was, but regardless of if he thinks you left or were stolen away, he'll be delighted to have you back. You'll never leave his sight again, and if you do have to be away from him for any reason he'll make sure he knows where you are.

You will drown in him, whether its his love or his anger, but he will mark you, fill you up, and leave you exhausted and delirious more than not.

Ace would contact the others. He'd be so relieved to see you safe, and whether anyone else thought you left, he'd be convinced it had to be against your will. He'll be seeking reassurance to that end, and if you're smart you're going to give it to him. Shore up your story if you need it with Ace's help, because the other will be far harder to convince, even if what you're telling is the truth.

Whatever happens, and however things play out though, you'll always run into Ace. He'll pop out of the ground like a fucking daisy sometimes, scaring the hell out of you even though that wasn't his intent. But playful or endearing, don't think for a second it's accidental.

If you don't reassure him, if you do tell him you left because you wanted to, his reaction will be worse. He'll claim you as his and you'll probably have burn scars by the time the others arrive. It'll take Marco weeks to get you back into some sort of semblance of who you were - assuming he can even soothe the scars.

Thatch will let you set the narrative, and hell he'll even let you decide if he reaches out to anyone else or not. If you want to elope with just him, he'd be more than happy to oblige. He doesn't mind sharing with his brothers, but he won't deny such a heart felt confession and plea from you either.

He's likely to do to you what Marco would, making love to you until you're a pile of mush, exhausted and almost out of your mind. His stamina far exceeds your own, and he has months of catching up to do, he's missed you so much. And don't worry, he'll feed you and make sure you're hydrated, even clean your home, and earn money, you'll be too tired to worry about any of that anyway.

With Izou in the mix the rope burns on your joints are apt to become permanent. It doesn't matter if you say you didn't want to leave, you'll never be able to be taken away so easily ever again. He'll let the others know about you, and your fate will probably be decided by committee.

You will be under the influence of something when you're questioned, so unless you're really good at lying that's not going to be an option here. You're likely to survive your punishment, for better or worse, but whatever island you end up on with everyone (whoever constitutes everyone), the islanders are going to understand your position in the crew. Or misunderstand it.

but the only friends you'll have will be the brothers that take care of you. You'll want for nothing, save maybe freedom.

[missy-the-dragon]

Today I share my finished (Main) Slugcat Gijinkas. I hope you enjoy them! I made the designs to be as androgynous as possible, however you are free to refer to the slugcats with any pronouns you'd like.

I'll share their design notes under each image :3!

Spear Master- I wanted to go for a pretty intimidating look while also keeping a sense of elegance and professionalism because above all they really are just a glorified mailman. Their hair is tied up so they can get a good shot with their spears and they wear dark colors to be able to traverse without being noticed. The mask up on their face is for fashion and to cover up the fact that they simply don't have a mouth. All of their communication is through sign language and their eyes and eyebrows.

Hunter- They're on the move. Constantly. CONSTANTLY. So I gave them clothes to travel in. Pants that tie up easily a pouch for small items and the world's probably worst smelling tank top ever. I forgot their rot initially so that got added. I wanted them to have a pretty stern rbf kinda face. And also their hair is chopped up like that from both self inflicted horrid haircuts and pissed lizards. Also their ears are permanently affixed into alert mode. Good upper body and lower body. Scars from plenty of conflicts. They have dimples and thicker brows.

Gourmand- Someone who pursues food and specifically hunts for it on their own. I wanted their clothes to be comfortable but also convenient but also professional. But they're honestly a fashion crime and they know it. Their clothes under the button up shirt are easy to move in and the apron doubles as a cloak. They're usually not THIS well dressed and usually have a bit more protection on considering they hunt stuffs to eat whether it be literally or just foraging. They're also pretty muscular in the upper body but their legs are a tad noodly. But I think you should know they would probably body half the slugcats with physical prowess alone. Shorter hair for convenience because hair in your food isn't pleasant. And a short chunky tail because it's cute. They were tricky but I just designed what I thought would be fun in this case and they're based on my old culinary teacher slightly. I think I will give them new clothes sometime though.

Artificer- They're litterally at war w scavengers like. They need to be well dressed for that. The black under their shirt is actually pretty thick for withstanding blows and there's a brace on one of their arms (I feel like constantly exploding fucks up ur nerves y'know?) to keep their aim steady with spears n bombs. Also their tail is bent at a werid angle! Still functional but it has a lil knot in it. Under their clothes there are vents in their body to release heat. They're one of the older slugcats. Gnarly claws on their hands and feet.

Rivulet- Rivulet was hard for me because I was sure what I wanted to go with when I was doing them. I gave them kind of a more sporty active build made for swimming. I thought it would also be interesting to give them a camera. But this was mostly me just clowning on their big eyes. Under the jacket and cargo shorts they are wearing the world's goofiest swim attire. Floral print and all. Their ears are also ALOT smaller than the other cats.

Saint- They were incredibly fun for me design wise but I struggled to figure out what kind of body type to give them. Their hair is in a thick braid and their bangs cover their eyes. They also still have a sticky tongue. I decided not to draw their eyes open. I think it's more fun to leave an interpretation for them on what you think they look like. I gave them a robe with wool on the inside so they aren't cold.

Survivor (I know it's spelled wrong I'm tired)&Monk- My friends said to not separate them so I didn't. I've always imagined survivor as the taller slimmer sibling with a average build and Monk with a bit more weight on them and a bit shorter. The braids in their hair are from each other. I gave them simple robes to wear something flexible to move in but also comfortable for travel. They're basically supposed to be opposite in every way. A little fun bit is that monk's bangs is supposed to look like the final karma symbol.

I'm done! I will eventually make a post with the last two slugcats which are Inv/Enot and Nightcat but I'm not sure in their designs yet. Until then thank you for reading all of this and taking the time to look at my art and design! And reblogs in this post are greatly appreciated!

[answersfromzestual]

Do you have any advice for preparing to get phallo/the process leading up to it? Also any advice on staying stealth while getting the surgeries done? I'm currently stealth and am looking to get phallo if/when I can afford it, but I don't know where to begin or how to not out myself to people during the whole thing.

Okay, lots to answer here. We will start with phallo prep. Alright, so one of the first things you have to think about is your donor site. You have a few options: forearm, lower back, and thigh. You want sensitive skin because this will form your member. And if course making sure you are healthy, no smoking, etc.

I chose my forearm. No matter where you pick, hair removal is important. For example: check the inside of your non dominant arm and see how hairy it is. They use the inside of your forearm to make the urethra. We don't want fissures, so most important for hair removal is your inner forearm. You can easily stay stealth while prepping your donor site with hair removal. Lots of people "don't like body hair". Or "I really want this tattoo to be perfectly visible". You don't need to offer a lot of information, people really dont care. "I want to prep my arm for a tattoo sleeve, and i dont want the hair to grow back and wreck the design". But lets be honest, they are in the busy of hair removal and they want you there. They dont care why lol. Explaining the scarring on the forearm after phallo: I say I burned my arm working at one of my first jobs in fast food. People have never questioned me. In fact, they usually will take it upon themselves to tell me some sort of burn story of their own to relate? I guess. Either way, it's chill. dont sweat the scarring. Definitely look up places that laser or electrolysis in your areas, or if you're worried in a city over. The point is: your skin will continue to grow hair, whether it's thick or teeny soft ones. You don't want that inside you. Same goes for the outside, your member will grow hair if you don't get the hair permanently removed.

It hurts, I'm not going to lie to you. But you'll be very happy with the results in the future. It's worth it. So... look into some hair removal places.

Exercise is important. Wrist exercises to strengthen are good if you choose forearm.

I'm not sure if you've had any surgeries. But you will need to get a hysterectomy and an oophorectomy as like the first "surgery step" of phallo. It's important to have these surgeries, especially if you've been taking T for longer than 10 years. If you don't remove the uterus and ovaries but keep taking T... you have a very high risk of getting cancer. So please, if you can try to see an endocrinologist at least once to get some basic knowledge on the effects of the hormones in relation to the inner workings of the human body, that would be good.

Stealth wise: it's your body and you can be rid of whatever innards you want lol. Meaning: tell the doctor you don't want the uterus and ovaries, and you want them removed. When asked "why...are you sure". "Yes, I am absolutely sure. I could go into surgery today if you have an opening" They won't have one open obviously but the point is: be insistant and strong and stern. If the doctor needs reasons here are a few: I don't want kids. I am in pain because of my period and it's affecting my quality of life". USE SPECIFIC LANGUAGE: "this affects my quality of life"

When you're in the process of phallo to stay stealth I used the excuse of needing to have corrective surgeries on my penis. Honestly. I was staying with my inlaws for the last two surgeries and they do not know at all. And I told them I had issues with my urinary tract (for me i have kidney stones and I said one tore me up inside so I needed to fix it). And honestly you won't be up and moving a lot after the first process of phallo, I don't really think you'll have an issue having to hide that. I want not just you but every dude to know men pee sitting down a lot more often than you think. After your first stage chances are you will have too much swelling to do the urethra surgery at the same time (but it can be done, I've heard people tell me). Basically the internet can provide you with medical excuses and stuff to tell others if they get too "intimate" with you.

Hopefully this helps a bit. If you have follow up questions, you know where to go!

[greyeyedmonster-18]

(unofficial submission for sirius and harry saturday. this was in my drafts, wrote it a few weeks ago, not my fav but idk, maybe someone else will enjoy it-- re: career counseling.)

When Sirius brought it up fifth year, he received nothing but a massive eye roll. Thunder in the clouds, rumbling of the Earth status eye roll, followed by a scowl and a grumble of something unkind under his breath.

Sirius had intended it to be question, and not the beginning of an argument, but as it turns out--as he had been learning for the past two years since Harry had come to live with him--teenagers were excellent at turning questions into World Wars.

Hows your room look? was a personal attack.

Did you have a nice day? was invasive.

Given any thought to career counseling? was the end of the fucking world, land-mines erupting in the kitchen, as Harry dropped a plate into the sink, ceramic clattering angrily.

"Didn't catch that, love," Sirius offered, putting a hand on Remus's arm when his husband made to open his mouth to tell Harry to watch his attitude.

"I said, mind your own business," Harry repeated without an ounce of shame or reluctance, staring deliberately at the two of them.

"Unfortunately, you are the only business I have to mind. Top priority," Sirius responded easily, and Harrys frown deepened, clearly annoyed as he hung around the perimeter of the kitchen, debating whether he should leave mid-conversation, or go sit back down and risk a shouting match. If anything, Sirius could be proud for that. Something about teaching a kid to pick the battle correctly.

"It's not like it matters," Harry said, "I'm the Chosen One or whatever, it doesn't matter what I do because I just have to do that and then...I dunno. It doesn't matter. Does it?"

Sirius made it a point not to lie to his godson, even if it was for his benefit, with the amount of adults these days seeming content to talk around Harry. Even if it meant Molly Weasley was permanently cross with him or Albus Dumbledore sighed every time Sirius and him had a conversation. Which was often. The sighing and the conversing and Sirius standing in Dumbledores office trying to control his own temper.

Sirius cleared his throat, "We're figuring this out, Harry."

"Yeah well...maybe send me post when you do or whatever and then I'll think about a career. Assuming I'm not dead, you know."

Next to him, Remus deflated like a balloon, as Harry walked out of the kitchen, his husband's head coming to rest on the table in utter desperation.

"Guess...well...just table this conversation..." Sirius said slowly, as he thought about Harry's words. Sirius remembered taking his exams and feeling the pressure from his parents to do well. His self-esteem and self-worth tied up in the last remaining way his parents might be proud of him. It was overwhelming and hard enough, and Harry was dealing with pressure from the entire Wizarding World.

Harry was smart. Harry had a natural talent. But Sirius had also seen Harry's marks--the lack of careful studying over the years catching up slowly, despite Sirius's efforts to get him to focus. It was hard to focus when a Dark Wizard was around every corner threatening your life, invading your mind, toying with your future. "...Can you re-take OWLs?"

Remus snorted, "Send me post when you decide to broach that topic with him. I'll plan a long vacation and be a continent over."

"Sure thing."

--

Dust had settled. All was well. NEWT year was approaching, and after a summer of much needed rest and restoration, and the heartiest meals Sirius could manage, Harry was finally in a place where Sirius felt comfortable sending him back to school.

Scar hurting? No.

Sleeping alright? Yes with happy dreams now too, Harry relaying to Sirius one morning that he dreamt about owning a puppy.

Whispers? Only Remus's when he fell asleep on the couch.

So, is now a good time to bring up career counseling?

Harry's face immediately darkened, despite the golden sunlight he was basking in, the two of them in the backyard of Number 12. He had warned Remus of the conversation, as requested, Remus opting to stay indoors and on stand-by with a very firm, The discussion was a courtesy not a choice, you will study this year, so help me Harry James Potter.

"Well, you just ruined a perfectly good day..." Harry muttered, immediately sitting up to start picking at the grass.

"Can I salvage it with a promise of dessert later?"

"You always have dessert."

"Mm...mid...night flying?"

"Really? Like midnight proper?" Harry asked, meeting Sirius's gaze with piqued interest. Harry might have been of age, but Sirius had been quite firm about a bedtime over the summer (and Harry hardly protested about it, almost-excitedly using his curfew and bedtime as a reason to leave gatherings early with his friends, and retreat home to a place that was quiet and stable and didn't give two cares if he was the chosen one). Harry only cared on good flying days.

"Is today a good day for it?"

"Maybe."

"Then maybe, midnight proper."

Harry huffed, "Fine."

"Then?"

"No. I haven't. Was I supposed to think about career counseling before or during figuring out Voldemorts soul was in my body?"

"After, really," Sirius said carefully, "I know this may be a bit...rich coming from me, but you cannot just rely on your Name for the rest of your life, Harry. And besides that, I don't think relying on that is going to make you happy."

"Someone suggested I become an Auror..."

"Of course they did..." muttered Sirius, "What do you think?"

"I told you I don't know. I haven't thought about it, and now you're making me," he said bitterly, sticking his index finger into a damp patch of grass and flicking up dirt. Sirius inhaled deeply, sitting up himself and resisting the urge to pull Harry's hands out of the ground and scrub his hands clean. Sirius also resisted the urge to point out all the things that he had made Harry do over the past few years that were for his benefit.

I told you so was not the theme for this conversation.

"I'm not asking you to know Harry. I'm asking you to have an opinion, and I know you have that."

"My opinion is that I want to just have one normal school year with my friends...can't I figure the rest out later or something?"

"So you'll just do well in all your NEWT subjects then? You won't focus on any particular class, and just...Exceed Expectations in all of them?"

"I dunno."

"Babe...I think it might be time to start thinking about school a bit more. About...what you like, what you want for yourself....what's going to make you happy."

"I like being here. That makes me happy."

"That won't change."

Harry's eyebrows knitted together, "What did you want? When you were in seventh year?"

"I wanted to stay at home and watch your parents kids all day and live off my inheritance," Sirius teased with a light smile, "Half-true. The other half....didn't really know and felt a bit lost. With my parents it was always so simple in a way because I knew I would just go into managing the family accounts and going into politics like my father...but your grandmother asked me what I just asked you and....I didn't have an answer either."

"Then why are you asking me?"

"Because it made me think, and...I never ended up doing anything with it, but I realized I liked Arithmancy quite a bit. Considered going into Healing...but never did. Got to watch you instead."

"You're happy?"

"Without a doubt," Sirius told him, catching green eyes in his own, "So...I ask you again, what do you like?"

"Quidditch."

"Hm."

"Snogging...." Harry said jokingly, and finally pulled his fingers out of the dirt again, Sirius wincing as he wiped the residue on the thigh of his jeans, "I...I do actually like Defense Against the Dark Arts. I think it's interesting. I dunno anything else besides that."

"Then...we start there. Baby steps."

[set-in-stardust]

ahhhh scar songs listened to! i enjoyed lemon demon more than i expected tbh,,

eighth wonder:

scar's just A Guy who's Dubiously Human. He could be fae. he could be coming to steal your toes. your pronouns. He could simply just want your money. perhaps he's a demon. perhaps he's the void itself. does anyone know? no. he's just There and having fun with life.

extra clever earth-bound spirit/ghost in the form of a mongoose/and i have hands, and i have feet

he just has the things he has and he's accepting of it. he takes everything in stride, and he gets passionate but doesn't let people know just how much he thinks of things

i'll never die/i am a freak

see, my original thought was to laugh at this line, because scar dies so. much. he dies to everything in hermitcraft! but then, if you think about it, he's one of the. only hermits who doesn't make a big deal of it unless it's truly amusing (see him clipping on a leaf block in the Shopping District s7)? he's never phased by the deaths. they just. happen.

hello, i'm here/i'm living in the wall/i know i might be small, but/I, I, I, am a freak

consider: scar, much like mumbo, is a hermit who needs validation. he's there to help the other hermits, and even his pranks aren't truly pranks in the sense they'll permanently scar (hehe) anyone. he's constantly saying his builds aren't very good when in fact they are. absolutely amazing (can you tell the main hermit i watch from this? probably) and he quite literally is underestimated! he plays up the silly factor to pretend he has no clue what's going on, when in fact, he knows more than everyone realizes :3

also, on this part, it's very self assured until the last line! scar is the epitome of a perfect businessman- he's charismatic and charming and just a Very Nice Guy, but he also has Moments that some don't always catch.

thou wilt never know what i am

quick question does anyone understand the workings of scars' mind? no? okay great thank you for the input

i am the fifth dimension/and i'll split the atom

(void!scar void!scar void!scar)

annyywayyyys This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race:

this song gave me. many emotions. uhm. i ended up interpreting it as a bunch of little white lies supplemented with truth, so here's my short little take:

I am an arms dealer fitting you with weapons in the form of words

(idk i just find this funny thinking about this in relation to the pick-up lines book scar gave grian.) he's wingman-ing for both mumbo and grian, and he's also running a full time teaching job (and a company but that's not the important part)! he is literally teaching words to tools to be used, whether it's for flirting or fighting

And (don't really care which side wins)

oh, look, we're two lines into the song and scar's already pretending he doesn't know stuff! the scar we see with grian d e f i n i t e l y holds back information in order to make sure the idiots (affectionate) don't panic. he really does care which side wins in this case: i think he's getting them together if it's the last thing he'll do

As long as the room keeps singing that's just the business I'm in

listen this poor man just wants to be in the loop. he just wants to know what's going on. he need to plan, to counterattack, to defend, to send out the next move. this is my scar is more intelligent than everyone says propaganda.

this ain't a scene, it's a goddamn arms racex3/i'm not a shoulder to cry on, but I digress

scar. hun. we get it. you've been trying to get mumbo to confess and now you have grian on your plate too?? i know you said you have a flexible time schedule but sir i don't think you have any free time.

i'm a leading man/and the lies i weave are, oh, so intricate

scar has his own things going on and solely because this is grian's story do we not see what's happening with him. also. the bit about the lies: his little white lies are so precariously balanced that if one is destroyed, they all come crashing down. once you know each way he cons people, you'll never fall for them.

will i fit don't you know who i think i am on this post? probably not. 1/2 (:

~ ☁️

YESSS!!

i absolutely love ur analysis for Eighth Wonder. He's just a guy, but is he really? the bit about him dying just all of the time and not caring? seriously great points ur so right and u SHOULD say it

this aint a scene is just such a good Scar song too. like, him swindling people and the bits about how once you know his lies and tricks, he can't get you again? god, yes.

theres not much i can add to all of this, you've hit p much everything!! seriously great analysis, scratching the song analysis itch in my brain and im here for it

[fayeimara]

Meant To Be Series || One For Every Billion

Episode 4. If You're A Masochist

Putting your phone away after posting your latest update, you look around one more time for either of your cousins. The oldest, Ren, had left you with his brother Shin, strictly telling him not to leave you alone before he met back up with you both. But then you convinced Shin to call the car and drop off the bags you'd overloaded him with, agreeing to meet back here this cute café. It had been pretty easy to convince him, seeing as how you could barely make him out over the bags and boxes of items you'd bought for your friends and family back home. It was fair play, after all, you'd brought just as many gifts with you for your cousins here when you'd arrived.

Smiling as you tip the cup of coffee up to your lips, you consider if you've harassed him enough for the day or if you should top it off by ordering him something he'll hate just to see that distressed look on his face. He deserves it for the prank he pulled on you a few days ago, when they picked you up from the station, literally scaring you half silly when he snuck up from behind you, grabbed you, and started to run. You were pretty worried because not a single person in the busy terminal had tried to stop him even though you were clearly (momentarily) terrified and not aware of who had 'kidnapped' you until he'd finally put you down. You guess you should have expected this with him though, given you both have always messed around with each other, pulling fun pranks and stupid stunts, since the two of you were kids, but you'd gotten completely complacent since you'd last seen these oh so lovely cousins of yours.

If there was any doubt on whether you had any payback planned for Ren, well, he was the one who'd grabbed not only your bags but also several pictures of your embarrassing slip in composure, i.e. your briefly terrified face, and shared it with the world. So yeah, you were sure he was sleeping with an eye open for the time being, which is why you would call on your considerable patience before hitting him subtly and satisfyingly when he least expected it.

With that in mind, you head back to the counter to place another order and then ask if there are any specialty dessert shops in the area. Happy to hear of one pretty close, you're sure you'll be able to quickly head over and back before Shin returns.

The shop is as incredible as promised because it only takes them about ten minutes to prepare your custom order of mochi with a spicy twist. Trying one out, you can't help but enjoy the sweet flavour and texture even if you're disappointed that it doesn't seem to have the effect you were hoping for, until you feel the heat slowly build the more you chew. Oh. Oh my. Oh my g- Mouth burning, you quickly gulp at the coffee still in your hand to try and relieve the pain. Okay so.. it's perfect! Cue evil laugh.

You thank the brilliant artisans, because that's what they are, and promise to leave a review on your way out. It's not until you're walking by an alley (how typical, right?) between shops on your way back to the cat café, that you're pulled from your thoughts of not-so-sweet revenge.

"Give it up, kid." It's nothing alarming at first. Not until you hear the next cry.

"Don't touch me! Leave me alone!"

Um. What?

You've stopped even before you turn your head to look in at a couple older guys surrounding a little kid. Seriously, what's with the cliché? You honestly thought this only happened in anime but you guess dummies always prove people wrong.

Debating who you should call, because you're not going to assume adding yourself to the equation alone is going to be any help, you quickly look around only to realize that the only people passing by near or across the street either don't seem to care, or aren't the kind of people you'd feel comfortable asking for any assistance from. People can call you out on stereotyping but really, where's the kind but strong elderly gentleman or tough, no nonsense, do-gooder woman when you need one??

"Hey!" The tears in the kid's voice draw you back, with your head whipping around to witness one of the bullies reach out to grab his collar. Quick kid, he manages to dodge even if barely but he's about to be blindsided by one of the other guys.

You don't even have time to sigh at your stupidity as you run up between them as fast as you can, slapping the second guy's hand away from where it was reaching for the kid's arm.

With that loud sound and dramatic entrance, all eyes are now on you, but the element of surprise does provide enough time for you to pull the boy behind you and back the two of you up a bit so you're both not completely surrounded.

Okay, this kid barely reaches over your hip, he can't be older than about 6 or 7 maybe, what's he doing here alone?

"Well, well. What do we have here?" The first guy that had tried to grab the kid's collar studies you. You want to say his voice is annoying or that he's an ugly creep but he's just an average guy of about a few years older than you. The only distinct feature are his glasses and that's probably because you don't typically think of wannabe thugs in glasses. Again, so sue you for you conventional stereotypes, but you're in a kind of delicate situation to be worried about thinking inside the box.

"Why don't you tell me," You shoot back, pretty upset about this pathetic tableau, "since it looks like three guys old enough to know better than to bully little kids."

The third guy hasn't done much until now but he laughs at your statement and, okay, at least his laugh is kind of annoying, like a dumb donkey's braying. You hope he's trying to fake an evil laugh or something and that's not his real one? Seriously, it sounds forced and fake so you hope for his sake it really is or no one will trust him once they hear it if that's all he has to work with for the rest of his life. You're tempted to say that to his face, but you've also been told by your friends that your reckless impulses tend to escalate the situation when you need the opposite so you hold back.

Because you're outnumbered. With only a crying kid at your back, quite too literally.

"Oh no, we're not bullying him. He's my kid brother, you know? We were just messing with him since he was being a brat and grabbed the new games we just bought."

You hesitate, thinking it over. Did you make assumptions and jump in too fast? He didn't call out for help or say anything specific to indicate he didn't know these guys. You don't want to turn away to look him over, but he had been holding something clutched against his side.

You feel a little hand clench into the back of your dress and a couple tugs follow, so without turning away, you cast your gaze down and meet teary hazel eyes that are peering up with a little hope among the fear, "He's lying, oneesan, I don't know them."

"Ahh, stop lying and dragging the nice, pretty girl into this." Second guy speaks up, trying to reach around you to grab the kid, but you quickly shift the both of you back a bit more. You realize the wall is just behind you, if the kid's gasping sob means anything. You're out of space to maneuver.

So...you're in a tough spot, you've got your hands literally full and you're up against three guys that are definitely living up to your first impression of them. You don't really have time to think it over as 'glasses' loses patience and reaches for you directly, grabbing your arm that's holding the trick mochi and trying to pull you forward. "What's this? Maybe we should take it for the trouble you've added by interfering in a family issue."

"How about this instead?" And before you can pity the loss, you've thumbed off the lid to your delicious hot coffee that you guess won't get to finish drinking, and toss it in his face.

"Arhggh!" Wow, high pitched for a tough guy, but you really can't think about that right now. Goodbye, coffee, your sacrifice is appreciated.

"What the hell, you crazy b-"

"Don't bother, dumbass, it's probably not hot enough to permanently scar him at this point." True story, you like your coffee cooled down more than most.

They're staring at you like you're crazy but it's really just the recklessness you're known for. Although you should have held on to that reminder of your friends' warnings that ran through your head earlier because the situation has definitely been escalated if the mean, hateful looks that are appearing from behind their fake polite masks are anything to go by. They clearly weren't even trying that hard to pretend. While the second guy is supporting his friend who's flailing, 'Fake laugh' reaches for you, this time angled for the collar of your dress or even your neck, "You stupid bitch."

Oh okay. Well, I'm so sorry for my impertinence, god. This is payback for the mochi prank, isn't it? You actually roll your eyes upwards for a split second with that thought.

Then you prepare to drop the maybe-unlucky box for the coming fight but just before his hand reaches you, another suddenly shoots out and grabs it. Hard.

"Don't you know how to treat women, buddy?" Wow, now that's a nice voice.

Shifting your eyes to your left without turning your head, you catch sight of a handsome bedheaded guy about your age. You would probably be all heart eyes in any other situation- who are you kidding? This is literally the perfect situation.

"I don't think he does, but that's probably because he has zero experience with them." Yay, your mouth can run freely with your attitude now that you have some back up. Not that it stopped you earlier, though..

This new guy shifts his gaze to meet yours and looks pretty surprised at your smirky smile (yes you're calling it that). Why so surprised though? You guess you should have been crying or even praising this god for stepping in. Whatever, he's just a boy. Even if he is drool worthy.

He studies you and pauses briefly on the redness marking your wrist from where one of the guys had grabbed you and then his golden eyes flick down to the boy hidden behind you before focusing a steady stare back on the bullies, "I think you should leave before I really get pissed off."

He must be a magician because they vanish pretty fast after his low declaration, supporting their friend who's managed to wipe most of your precious coffee off of his slightly reddened face. Looks like, he'll live to be a dumbass another day. Could've told them that and avoided the escalation. Oh wait, you pretty much did, right?

The guy is turning back to you after watching them leave the alley and you reach for the little kid with the hand that once held your coffee. Feeling his little hand slip into yours, you start to walk the two of you towards the street while keeping your body angled so you don't completely turn your back on this new guy. You swear the amount of times you've had a situation like this turn into something unexpected is a little unnatural. "Wow. Well... Thank you, stranger, for your help."

He narrows those stunning eyes on you but you don't think he's angry, just a little confused for a moment, before he realizes you're equally wary of him. He moves out of the alley after you both, but thankfully not too closely, because you have to turn your back on him so you don't trip or walk into anyone once you reach the main street.

"It's Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsuro."

You silently startle around at the sound of his voice coming from a lot closer to you than expected but compose yourself quickly so as not to offend him by whirling around in alarm.

"Oh, uh.. nice to meet you." Okay, you both should be safe now. You turn back to face him and the kid is now glued to your side, tiny hands gripping your dress with both hands, one at your back and one at the front. At least it's not silk because that would leave quite the wrinkles. "Anyways... we have to get going now to find whoever lost this little guy."

His arm moves up, rubbing his hand in his hair at the back of his sheepishly tilted head. Probably can't get his hair any messier at this point. "That would be me."

"What?" You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. Always the unlikeliest odds with you and really, what are they anyways here in this situation? But it turns out he's not kidding and you're not misunderstanding.

"I'm the one who lost him. That's my little cousin you're trying to walk away with."

"Hey!" You protest his teasing implication, before looking down at the boy. The other guys tried this too, though.

So you delicately crouch down (aware you're in a dress and heeled ankle boots that could spell impending disaster if you lose your balance) to make sure you're at eye level with the kid. He's not crying anymore, but not looking happy or relieved either. Just staring back at you steadily, a little like the calm gaze of this other guy, actually, but let's not go with confirmation bias. Maybe he's just not an overly excitable kid to begin with.

"Do you know this guy?" You ask softly. He told the truth before, under the stress of a pretty scary situation, after all.

He looks over and up at the tall teen claiming to be his cousin before nodding. "Oh." You give the little boy a reassuring smile before leaning in to whisper in his ear, "Can I ask your name?"

And when you turn your ear to him so he can whisper a reply, you hear, "Itsuki."

Giving him another sweet smile, you stand back up and he's glommed right back onto your side. You meet the bedhead's eyes with your own slightly narrowed but steady too, and settle on a serious expression with an eyebrow raised. He hasn't looked away from you even once but that's fair considering you might actually be trying to take away his little cousin... whom he's lost already once today, if we're all being honest.

"What's his name?"

He raises an eyebrow to match yours, stance indicating he's in no rush but expression definitely amused, "You mean Itsuki?"

"Yeah.. okay, then." You look back down at the boy who's reluctantly releasing you as Kuroo moves closer to you both, your smile back on my face. "It was really nice to meet you, Itsuki. Thank you for being so brave and strong back there. I couldn't have sent those bullies away without you!"

"Or me?" Kuroo asks but it's not really a question more like an amused statement sliding into remind you that he did save you both in the end. Isn't he a little too close for politeness?

"I suppose." Now you have tilt your head back to look at him again. Argh, why is it like a compulsion to just stare your life away when you look into those eyes? "Thank you, then.. Kuroo."

"Not that you needed my help." Ohh, he's smirking at you and it. is. something. "You looked like you were mostly holding your own before I stepped in."

You laugh, because he's really just being nice and you don't know what expression your face might make after seeing his smirk if you don't pick amusement, "Pretty sure it was painfully obvious who brought the most advantage on our side if it came to a fight... and it wasn't me."

"Oya? Our side, huh? And what's your criteria for assessing that advantage?"

And before you can stop yourself, his question has you looking him up and down like.. like you're checking him out. Cue your blush. Ugh. You pass it off and try to push through, "What? I'm not supposed to notice that you have the physical advantage over me?"

Yeah, you worded that deliberately and wouldn't change it for anything because it's so worth it to see the red lightly tint his own cheeks. Yeah, I see your thoughts went there.

"Anyways," You start to step backwards, "Really, thank you."

You turn away to walk over to the coffee shop just another door down.

"Wait," You look over to see both Itsuki and Kuroo catch up to you quickly, the latter now holding on to the former gently but firmly, "I should be thanking you. You did step in to help my cousin when not many others would."

"Oya?" You copy his cute phrase with a look at him from the corner of your eyes and a teasing smile of your own, "How do you know he didn't step in to help me?"

"Somehow I doubt that." The three of you come to a stop in front of the coffee shop and Kuroo's distracted for a second, "Wait, this is your stop?"

"Yeah, why?"

He chuckles, "Ours too. We'd just stopped in here ourselves when Itsuki wandered away." We?

"Oh, I was here a little earlier too, but I needed to grab.." You lift the box, ".. this, for someone. I left my order here though."

"You lose your coffee often or just an addict?"

"Haha. Neither. It's... a thing. You'd think I'm horrible if I explain."

"I doubt I'd ever think that at this point. Can I pay for your new order and you can tell me about it over your next cup? You know, as a thank you for putting yourself in a dangerous situation for my cousin." Why does he make that sound both grateful and like a stern admonishment at the same time?

"I covered it already and it wasn't really for me. But I really appreciate the offe-"

You're cut off by the door opening and Shin bursting through with a very exasperated look on his face. Whoops, guess you took too long. He immediately starts complaining, "Where have you been?! Imagine my worry when I arrive here and you're gone! You promised you'd wait here."

Another guy has walked out behind him but you ignore that because you see that Shin's holding the drink you got him, but that has your name on it, and can't help but point out both literally and dryly, "Clearly so worried, you picked up my order in the meantime?"

"Hey, there are two drinks so I figured one was mine! But they're both awful!" Of course he tried them both. His face turns into a sad pout, "Why would you order such sour drinks when you know I hate them! And I know you do too! So... do you really hate me for that little thing? You've been so mean today."

You chuckle because this is literally the perfect opportunity. Well, actually, Kuroo is still standing by politely with Itsuki, watching you both with interest, but that other guy has walked up to them and is now also standing there. Is he gaming out here? Never mind.

You give Kuroo an apologetic smile with a finger held up to indicate you'll be a moment and then turn back to offer the box you've been holding onto this whole time to your dear cousin. "I can't imagine why you'd feel that way, but I did get you this, too. You can't have it all though, it's also for Ren."

He reaches for the box when you pop it open and happily exclaims, "Mochi? Aw, I take it back, you're the best!" before proceeding to pop two in his mouth. Oh. Uh-oh.

Okay then, closing the box, you walk back over to Kuroo as Shin happily munches away behind you. "Sorry, yes, I appreciate the offer but as you can see, I have my hands full with-"

"Ahhh! OMG, my mouth is burning!!! What is this?" Is he crying? He's definitely chugging that 'horrible' drink. "I take it back that I took it back. You do hate me. And for what?! I'm sorry I tried to kidnap you, okay?! Ahhh! Make it stop-"

He keeps rambling, even while alternating between choking down the sour drink and pausing for quick panting breaths every now and then, as tears actually run down his face. Even the gamer boy is momentarily distracted watching. You can't help the satisfied smile that stretches across your face as you watch Shin dissolve into tortured agony from the corner of your eyes and finish your sentence "-a pretty troublesome commitment already."

Kuroo looks a little worried but definitely way more amused, "I thought that box was something really special, the way you held onto it the whole time."

"Yeah, even in exchange for my precious coffee-" You wipe away a pretend tear and swear he mutters 'so you are an addict' under his breath before you finish, "but it was worth the revenge, wouldn't you say?"

"Well... He tried to kidnap you?"

"Ugh, don't ask. It was a stupid prank that I briefly fell for. But I think he won't try getting me back for a while. At least a week of peace."

"So.. don't mess with you, is what I'm hearing."

You laugh at his accurate interpretation, "Pretty much. Or do, if you're a masochist."

He looks slightly awed and a whole lot intrigued when he states, "At first I thought you were some incredible angel.. but you're pretty much more an incredible devil, aren't you?

"Incredible, either way? I'll take it." You smirk, thinking of the irony he'll probably never understand.

"How about my request for a name?"

"Isn't it Kuroo Tetsuro?"

"I'm asking for your name, Kitten." He's a little exasperated and just a smidge embarrassed that you made him spell it out. I mean, you like that he's all witty and smooth but... you really like a guy's direct side, too.

You do still smile and tease a little more, "Kitten could work, given the irony..." He gives you an unamused look, but you were continuing anyway, "But since you asked so nicely.. I'm Y/-"

"Oi!" Ren is standing across the street with the car, door open, "I've been looking for you. It's time to go."

"Oh," You look back at Kuroo who's still looking at Ren a split second longer before focusing back on you, "I'm sorry, I have to go!" You smile at him apologetically then face Itsuki, slightly crouched, to give him a bright smile, "Bye Itsuki! Take care and don't wander off again!"

You don't have time to say anymore than those goodbyes to the pair of cousins before your own is dragging you away, cursing you out and swearing he'll get you back. He's listing a lot of pretty creative ideas, silly boy, you'll just use them before he can.

You check both sides of the road as he's pulling you across since it doesn't look like he's going to but you both make it safely to Ren who just gives the two of you a droll look. "You guys definitely didn't listen to me."

He didn't even pose it as a question. You just shrug and give him a kiss on the cheek before sliding into the back of the sleek car, followed by Shin and then Ren, who calls out to let the driver know to take you all home. Maybe you glance out the tinted windows to steal one last look at Kuroo before the car starts to move away. Maybe you see that he's looking too, he's staring at the car but his mouth is moving and when it stops, the gamer boy says something back.

The last thing you see before the car pulls away completely and you can't see anymore is Itsuki pulling Kuroo back towards the café and he takes one last look your way before heading inside with his friend following.

You turn back around, not realizing you'd shifted your whole body. Ren is looking at you oddly so you just raise an eyebrow at him, but smile when Shin happily exclaims, "Hey Ren, we got you some treats too!"

Prev | Next

Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Kuroo not only didn't get Y/n's name, but was pretty curious as to her close relationship with the two guys that we know as Shin and Ren

-If she had to measure, Y/n felt about the same level of attraction and connection with Kuroo as she did with Oikawa when she first bumped into him at the boba shop; he was interesting but still just a casual, fun encounter in the end

-Gamer boy was obviously Kenma, yeah?

-Is it funny for anyone else that Bokuto is liking or retweeting the posts about Y/n? Or is it just me because I clearly know too much?

-Itsuki is non-canon, if you weren't sure :(

A/N: I really like how this one turned out, I don't know why. It could have something to do with the fact that I've been a Kuroo simp the longest but I dunno, it just... flowed. And I barely even chewed over the edits.

Btw, if you guys ever see first-person POV (my, me, I, us, we) or 'Faye', it's probably a good time to restate that this started out as a purely self-indulgent imagining, which is why I write most seamlessly as myself in the scenarios. I then change it over to 'Y/n' and reader perspective during multiple levels of edits so you all can hopefully enjoy the story/scenarios too, but it can (and likely will) still slip through sometimes. Just let me know, and I'll fix it, thank you :) <3

Taglist: @delusivist

[bbq-hawks-wings]

hey! I've seen a bunch of posts on how HPSC is slightly corrupted and all, could you explain if you understand this? They're (die hard villain fans) usually using this as a justification to slam the heroes for raiding the army. I'm quite confused sorry

I’d be more than happy to, friend! I have a strong feeling it’s going to be a key detail in the story moving forward so it’s good to go back in reviewing everything we know now; plus, it gives me the perfect chance to offer up my theory that ropes in Aizawa, Midnight, and Present Mic. Buckle up, though, because this gets a little long.

The HPSC tells heroes what to do.

The Hero Public Safety Commission is a pocket of the Japanese national government in this universe, sort of like how the FDA is in America.

It’s important to note that HPSC is a separate entity from the heroes. They’re the ones giving out licenses, disciplining rouge heroes, overseeing hero training, acting as liaison between heroes and law enforcement, organizing cooperative efforts with multiple heroes across different regions, and managing the general image of heroes with events like the Hero Rankings Billboard.

Heroes have to obey directives given by the HPSC and hero schools have to align with guidelines set by the HPSC, but heroes don’t usually get a say in these decisions and often only get to complain about how things are done and are stuck doing it anyway. If someone is caught heroing without a license or not in hero uniform, you can be fined and/or jailed. If a hero doesn’t keep up with paperwork or runs off and does their own thing they can also be fined and have their license suspended. If a hero goes AWOL or completely flips out they can have their license permanently taken away and be jailed.

It’s actually even more important to note that way heroes are allowed to operate and answer to the government is actually closer in line to a militia than a police force. In fact, while heroes are allowed to make arrests and use their quirks, they are more restricted in what they can and can’t do on their own than the police. If a hero wants to work with other heroes on an investigation, they have to use the private network (administrated by the HPSC) or communicate in person. In the case with the Shie Hassaikai or looking for Kurogiri and the LoV where police cooperation was necessary to carry out the investigation and bring in the gang right away there was no choice but to be transparent with the HPSC.

However, the HPSC doesn’t have to be transparent with the heroes.

They require heroes to give up all their information to keep working as heroes, but they don’t have any accountability for themselves and have notably dodged scrutiny up to this point with public backlash almost always falling on the heroes who have little to no say in how they run things.

Starting back at the beginning of the series with the USJ incident, it understandably garnered massive media attention - it should have. Dozens of unknown, random two-bit villains poured into the most secure, prestigious hero school in all of Japan undetected and resulted in the serious injury of two teachers and could have included the students as well if All Might had not been there to fight and subdue the inhuman monster - the Nomu - who had up to that point had never been seen before.

It’s not unreasonable that UA initially got the blowback from this as it could have been chalked up to complacency causing a lapse in security that the HPSC absolutely wouldn’t have been accountable for. It’s treated like a one-off event and despite investigations going nowhere on it, it’s ultimately downplayed and checked out in the background while continuing with the Sports Festival in high spirits. However, things get worse.

After passing their semester exams the Hero Course first-years head off to do practical training in the mountains with a hero team named the Wild Wild Pussycats. Remember, because this is a hero training initiative between a school and a hero team, the HPSC is likely involved at least on some administrative level in regards to granting permission and securing the patch of mountainside to use even if this detail is not acknowledged in the series. Despite efforts to only include the staff, teachers, and heroes involved word somehow still gets out - resulting in more student, hero, and teacher injuries, and most importantly the kidnapping of one of the students.

This can no longer be swept under the rug. A lot happens in the secret hideout raid revealing lots of stuff with the plot, including All-for-One’s direct involvement, but it doesn’t add anything more to our notes besides the fact UA is once again blamed and heroes are thrown under the bus instead of the organization overseeing them.

Fast forward to the Provisional License Arc. This is the first time we see the HPSC acting explicitly. It’s noted that they passed significantly more students this year than previously. Yokumiru Mera, the tired proctor, is overworked. The HPSC has a reason to urgently pump more students into the “working force” now than it had before, though at the moment it’s written off as a result of All Might’s retirement.

During the Shie Hassaikai arc the only suspect detail we get is the fact that the raid on compound is inexplicably compromised, and somehow the yakuza knew the heroes and police were coming. We’ll come back to this and to the leaks in UA again later.

Skipping the remedial courses and school festival arc, we get to the Pro Hero Arc. Big lights, pomp and circumstance, and a massive powerful Nomu attack that nearly kills the freshly crowned #1 Hero. From this point forward, what we get of the HSPC is mainly through Hawks and his experience with him. After the fight, we get a flashback of the President of the HSPC herself telling him to ignore civilian casualties in his mission to infiltrate the LoV, that he has to do it solo, and that he can’t tell anyone. Briefly in the next chapter he says that despite his objections he can’t actually tell them no.

Hold up!

Did a government agency just tell a hero to secretly get in with the villains no matter what, and when he objects and asks whether he’s just supposed to ignore collateral damage in the process is told, “You can and you will”?! (That’s a verbatim quote from chapter 192.) I thought this agency was supposed to hep people and keep them safe!

We get smatterings of interactions between Hawks and the HPSC, and though we don’t get anything from there side we’re getting that every questionable or deplorable thing Hawks does or needs to get on the LoV’s good side is acknowledged and endorsed by the HPSC. “I’m in contact with the shady guy who loosed that monster in the middle of the city with no warning. He wants me to kill the other top hero who just recovered and to join the definitely-dangerous doomsday cult, and maybe THEN he’ll let me in on what’s going on.” Ok, sure. Nothing morally questionable about any of that...

Jump to chapter 267. Up to this point, this note about Hawks’ past has been hinted at, but is here finally confirmed with a chilling detail. Kids who enter hero work may get special coaching by their families when they’re young, but the threshold for entering formal government-regulated training isn’t until 14/15 years of age in the last few years of their education. Chapter 267 shows a little Keigo Takami no older than about 8, at best, being told by the HPSC that he doesn’t get to call himself by his own name anymore. From now on, he’s going to be a hero, and only a hero, and it’s going to long and hard. Back in 192, two mysterious figures promise the same boy, shown at the same age, that his family will be taken care of.

Whatever circumstances led Keigo’s family to end up in the situation they did, they accepted an offer from a government agency, the HPSC specifically - you can see their headquarters in the flashback - to take away their very young son, take away his identity (and implicitly his family), and groom him to be government tool for the rest of his life - a commitment he had no true say in and that he could not understand at the time.

And it gets worse.

Endeavor works with the HPSC regularly as all heroes have to, but his relationship with them and what they’ll let him get away with gets put into greater question the longer we look at it. He turned to eugenics to create a hero he couldn’t be and surpass All Might for the sole purpose of satisfying his own ego. He bought a girl from her family and forced her to have his kids, then subjected those kids to cruel training - passing over each one until he got to one he felt he could work with -, beat his wife as well, and some kind of action he was involved in lead to the death of his oldest son. While the domestic abuse could be hidden, the death of his child cannot. What’s more, shortly after (very shortly if timelines add up), his youngest son received a permanent burn scar on the heat-resistant side of his face and his wife was locked away in a mental institution for a decade.

And the HPSC never bats an eye. They could take away his license. They could call the police. They could have exposed him to the public or at least ordered an investigation. But they didn’t. On some level they knew, and they did nothing.

But it might be even worse.

I skipped over this detail chronologically, but it’s the linchpin for just how corrupt the HPSC might be if all this lines up. Looking at the Endeavor Agency Arc, we get a seemingly random confrontation with a guy called Starservant (chapter 243) who prattles off a prophecy about the Dark Lord returning and his Dark Stars conspiring against humanity which will bring the world to ruin. He calls out Endeavor specifically as the shining light that beckons the darkness, but this sounds an awful lot like the deranged wailing of some crazy old man, right?

Let’s jump over an entire series now to the spin-off serial Vigilantes. This series takes place in the same universe at an earlier point in the timeline of the main story - and take an extra little note that there’s an underlying subplot about unusual drugs meant to enhance quirks (that often result in mutating the user) and that someone may be using them to clandestinely run experiments on humans from the shadows. 

In chapter 59 we get flashbacked to Eraserhead, Midnight, and Present Mic’s childhood experiences at UA, and we’re also introduced to Oboro Shirakumo - their fellow classmate and dear friend. We get a few chapters establishing their relationships and their goals and dream for the future until chapter 63 where things make a drastic turn in tone. On what should be a routine hero training exercise as third-year seniors a giant, monstrous villain shows up and attacks while the UA kids are escorting a class of preschoolers around town.

In the scuffle, though Aizawa is able to single-handedly come out victorious, in the fight and debris Shirakumo is struck in the head by falling concrete as he tries to lead the children to safety and dies on the scene. Go back to main series, chapter 254-255, the villain Kurogiri is detained but the police are having no luck questioning him. They get a sliver of a lead and call in Present Mic and Eraserhead to interrogate him, and it’s confirmed that Kurogiri was a human experiment of Doctor Ujiko - the mad scientist bio-engineer responsible for the Nomu and outspokenly faithful servant of All-for-One - created from the corpse of their dearly departed Oboro.

Here’s the kicker, though, in Japan they don’t often bury their dead. Funerals next to never include an open casket - the loved one is cremated first, their ashes placed on an funeral shrine with their picture, and the loved ones mourn there. That means Ujiko needed to get to the body before it was cremated - which requires some fast work; but that’s not even the worst of it. Jumping one last time to chapter 270, Ujiko recognizes Mic as a friend of Shirakumo and boldly admits the entire time he was after Aizawa for his quirk.

That attack more than 10 years ago was premeditated. This goes back a long ways. How did he find this information - about their quirks and their movements and where to find them? How did Ujiko get the body out of the morgue without anyone catching him? Could it be the same way his fellow servants of All-for-One were able to get into the USJ? And the Training Camp? And the Yakuza raid? All-for-One has a lot of connections for his faithful servants to move about freely in this world of heroes despite every effort being take to stop them. 

Somehow, these shining lights can never seem to outrun the dark no matter how hard they try, as if there’s a conspiracy against them. But a conspiracy of that level would have to come all the way from the top! If you wanted to get poetic about it, you could even say the stars themselves are conspiring against us. But that old man was crazy, right? If he wasn’t crazy - if he was right at all - then no matter what way you slice it:

This is bad.

[qbrooklyn1056]

El angelito que cambió NYC!

The lack of resources when it comes to children should never be an issue. Why is it that rich children get treated so, much better than less fortunate children? Aren't children, children and they all should be loved and tread equally? This is no where near the case for most poor children. The system seems like they fail to protect black and brown babies, like to them its not as important as finding justice for white baby. When describing children, you think of lovable, sweet and some of the smartest little humans you’ll come across. Children are the key to joy some may say and their pure innocence makes up for some of the most hilarious and memories moments. What happens when you have people who use their children innocence for their own personal gains, and the lack of a system making sure putting the safety of children needs at top priority. You get a dead child and a ton of excuses. Either way, 6-year-old Elisa Izquierdo, who would have been 32 years old this year, but instead is resting in Cypress Hills Cemetery. This would be at the hands of the people who she should’ve been most protected by.

Elisa Izquierdo was born on February 11th 1989, in Brooklyn NY, at Woodhull hospital. She was born to Gustavo Izquierdo, who was a Cuban immigrant dancer, and her mother Awilda Lopez who was Puerto Rican. The pair met in a homeless shelter in Fort Greene Brooklyn, where Izquierdo was a caretaker, and she was a resident of the shelter. Two years into the relationship Lopez got pregnant with Elisa. Izquierdo would break up with Lopez after discovering she was heavy into using crack cocaine, and that was actually part of the reason she was into the shelter anyway. She would lose her two oldest kids to child welfare (Now ACS), the same year Elisa was born. Elisa had crack cocaine in her system and Elisa was permanently place with her father. He made sure she was his world and got her into a good school, but a health condition would interfere with him paying for Elisa schooling. Says the daily news, who covered the whole story throughout the trail.

Should a parent that had been on drugs get their children back? For most, I would say, Hell No, not untroubled the child is 17 and older. This way the child can fight back or speak up against the abuse if its happening. Plus,, most abuse patents, usually only go after the weak and small, because they can't fight back. Now, the same year her mother claimed to completely drug treatment and had an apartment on Manhattan Lower East side, Rutgers Houses projects. She was now married to a maintenance worker named Carlos Lopez. Lopez was granted unsupervised visits every second weekend. This is where her two oldest siblings would tell family, that Elisa was being abused and lock in a cupboard by their mom and step-dad. (Family members did nothing). While Elisa would return home and begin bedwetting and had scars all over including her genitalia. She would vomit after coming from her mom house and would refuse to go in bathrooms. (Information also provided by the daily news), I don't know about most people, but if a child is showing all these signs, something is very wrong. This is nothing you sweep under a rug this is something the U.S. Marshall's should even be notified of. This little girl was being treated like a human punching bag, all for just being herself. Elisa story should be made into a movie or shown at them programs for people who abuse kids. Should also be shown to new parents, so they can have an understanding of the real world. Even people thinking about having a baby Should see this story, so they know how much work kids are but they may also come to realize they're not ready for a child.

Her father is the type of dad I believe anybody wouldn't want as a dad or any woman would love to have a baby by him, because of how much he cared and loved his daughter. He was a real standup guy who just wanted the best for his baby girl. He never could imagine that the person he had a baby with, was the devil in the flesh. Himand teacher notice the bruises, and she said she didn’t want to go back to her house ever again. Elisa also, told a social worker what had happened, and Izquierdo tried everything to stop the visitation rights, but the courts said she could continue to see her daughter, but under the conditions she doesn’t hit her child Izquierdo would purchase tickets for Cuba for the date of May 26, 1994, he planned on moving him and Elisa there. He would be rushed to the hospital in May, finding that he had Lung Cancer, he would pass on the same day him and his daughter was supposed to start their new life May 26, 1994. The director of the school still tried to report the mother after the father died because the school was worried. Since he wasn’t there to fight for her anymore. I sometimes wonder why God took him away from that Elisa, because she really needed him at this time, but even though this story is tragic. It's because of Elisa's story a rules and regulations have change when it comes to children.

This is were we see things get really bad for little Elisa. This is were child welfare dropped the ball over and over. This is were this beautiful little girl will lose her life because everyone around her was dropping the ball. Her mother would get temporary custody after she filed a permanent custody order of Elisa, Izquierdo family would challenge the decision, Lopez lawyer made her seem like a saint, who wasn’t going to use drugs again, and Elisa wanted to be with her biological mother. Judge Phoebe Greenbaum approved permanent custody in September 1994. Elisa was withdrawn from private school and sent to public school 126 in Manhattan. She was said to be “uncommunicative, emotionally disturbed, and urinated often”. Also, the principle at the new school said “Elisa was tearing out hair and walking with difficulty.” In 1995, some ones sent an anonymous letter to child welfare and said Lopez cut off Elisa hair and was locking her in dark rooms. The school kept reporting and child welfare kept saying “Not reportable “due to lack of evidence. The evidence was obviously there. It was supposed to be a caseworker checking on Elisa all the time. Lopez back on drugs and that spring withdrew Elisa from 126 and didn’t enroll her another school. She was in her six child and but Elisa for some reason was always her target. Why wasn't this judge disbarred? This is a slap in the face to any child going through abuse. You are basically giving the abuser a pass to do whatever they want to the child with no consequences. Do you really think that a person on drugs, who beats her child everyday, is going to change overnight? I'm here to tell you absolutely not, Not when they don't even like there own child. I believe a lot of these people should have been brought up on charges and given prison time to show the world we will not tolerate this kind of abuse.

To imagine this poor little girl being beating and abused by somebody that she hope would protect, turned out to be a monster. The mother was an evil women with real problems, besides drug use. In my opinion she knew exactlywhat she was doing, because she didn'treat all her kids that way or even think about doing half the things she did to Elisato the others. I mean this women made this child. eat her own feces, sexually assaulted with a hairbrush, hair mopped with the floor, and way more horrible things. Carlos Lopez would beat Elisa and the oldest two because they weren’t his. November 22nd. Lopez would phone her sister and says her daughter was “retarded on the bed" and she had fluid coming from her nose and mouth, which was said to be brain fluid. She was told to take her to the hospital and she said “I’ll think about it after she did the dishes.” The next day a neighbor came to see what was going on and told Lopez to call the police and she said “No.” The neighbor did and Lopez talked of committing suicide. She would admit that she threw her daughter into a wall two days prior. The autopsy revealed broken fingers, vaginal tear, burns, welts, and a bone protruding through her skin.

Elisa story gained lots of media attention and the Newspapers, such as dateline, New York times, and time magazine just to name a few. Everyone was in some way scolding child welfare services for dropping the ball horribly. Judge Phoebe Greenbaum faced a lot of backlash and claimed she followed proper procedures in the case. Then Mayor Rudolph Giulliani would create ACS (Administration for Children Services). Devoted to child welfare, which years down the line would have a lot of similar cases like Elisa. In 1996 then Governor George Pataki signed Elisa's law which is for every agency whether private or city work together to make sure children are safe, and to also protect the child’s privacy or workers in case of any situation with abuse. This is about the need to increase accountability in the city.

This whole situation is just wrong, so many people failed this child and looked the other way. I guess it goes back to what I was asking at the beginning. I believe poverty can play a big part in children not getting enough love and support from their families, because they have to work and make sure things are taking care of. One thing I learned is no matter what, talk to a child and see if anything is going on. Any little sign of anything you confront the situation, you don’t want to wait until it too late to do something about it. Hurting one of most God creatures is absolutely disgusting, and there should be no coming back from that. I wonder if she was from a family with money would child service had taken her case way more serious? The answer most likely is yes. Money talks in this country and the sad part is, people don’t take action until its always too late. One child is too many to lose to child abuse.

 • Daily News

[mysweetkittae]

We’ll Be The Stars

Characters: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2,284

Warnings: Implications of suicide. This piece is on the heavier side so if that’s something that might affect you then please keep it in mind

Author’s Note: Sometimes I write, not because I want to tell a story, but because these are the things I wish someone would say to me.

Summary: This life can be a lonely one, wandering from day to day as you fight so hard to stay afloat. There may come a time where you no longer have the strength to keep swimming, and you want nothing more than for the water to take control, pulling you deeper into its embrace as you forget all about the world above. But then a hand reaches out, and suddenly the world doesn’t seem so cold.

It can get hard sometimes.

Life can be so exhausting that it weighs you down, dragging you deeper and deeper into the depths of despair, pulling you further into the cold waters that are full of nothing but bitter ruthlessness. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to escape, limbs fighting with all their might as they try and break free from the clutches of darkness, for you will never be free. The water will hold you tightly in its grasp, watching as it bleeds into your lungs, burning through your body as it makes its way through each and every crevice, marking you, claiming you as its own.

You do not belong to yourself, oh no; you belong to the sea, and it is never letting go.

These were the thoughts that took home in Namjoon's mind, his sole companion to the isolation he had found permanent residence in. It wasn’t always like this – there was once a time where he remembers being happy, a young child frolicking in the fields behind his grandmother’s house, knee deep in mud long before the sun had even peeked its head over the horizon. There was a time where the world was full of light, a kaleidoscope of colours painting the sky in the multitude of hues that only a child that had not yet had its innocence snatched away could see.

He used to be so happy, so what happened?

When did the bright colours turn to a single shade of grey, a monotonous routine so set in his bones that any semblance of life was forgotten?

He tried to fix it, to see the world again through the rose-tinted glasses that had broken a long time ago, but nothing worked. Everywhere he went, all he could see in the people around him was a reminder of everything that he wasn’t, a reminder of everything that he could never have, and a reminder of everything that he could never be.

Nights were endless, with insomnia crawling up his body and clawing its way across every inch of his skin as it left scars all over, a merciless lover that wanted the world to know who he truly belonged to. As if the ever growing bruises beneath his eyes weren’t enough for that. He was just so tired. Breathing hurt, opening his eyes hurt, thinking hurt, walking hurt, doing anything hurt, living hurt.

And he couldn’t take it anymore.

He hated it, feeling like this. He hated how he was nothing but an empty shell, drifting from day to day as he tried his hardest to stay afloat, any memory of the cheerful boy he once was long lost at sea. It had been so long now, that he had felt like this. It had been so long, and Namjoon wasn’t even sure if he remembered how to smile anymore.

Tears blurred his vision as his hands gripped the metal railing, knuckles white with the pressure of a soul that was trying so hard to stay strong, reaching out for someone, anyone, to hold onto.

It was then that a voice called out to him, a melodious tune singing sweetly amongst the metallic whir of the city night life.

“Excuse me, is everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh, y-yeah… I'm… I'm okay.” Namjoon stuttered, eyes hastily moving from the river below to the girl standing beside him.

“Are you sure?” She questioned gently as he rapidly turned away, heart racing from the sudden disruption of his thoughts.

“Y-yeah.” He said as he cleared his throat, hours of endless crying clogging up his vocal cords.

He turned as he made his way to leave, feet only faltering when he heard a hasty “wait!” running after him.

“You can talk to me if you'd like, it might help.” She suddenly announced, teeth nibbling on her lower lip as she shied away from Namjoon's gaze.

“What do you mean?” He replied, swollen eyes squinting at the stranger that could no longer look directly at him.

“I mean…” She hesitated, fingers twisting into the thick material of her jacket as her body trembled in the late winter chill. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger. I find that it helps speaking to someone that knows nothing about you and that you know you'll probably never meet again.”

“What’s it to you? Why do you care?” Namjoon spat, anger rising in his mind at the sheer audacity of this girl to come here out of the blue and start trying to get him to talk about what was going on, yet feeling a longing in his heart to reach out and grab hold of the hand that he had been waiting so long for.

“Because… you remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Remind… you?” He replied carefully, seeing her glassy eyes tear away from his sight once more, her light steps walking towards the barrier that overlooked the river beneath.

“You have the same look in your eyes that my friend used to have. He would always come here when he was having a bad day, said it would help to clear his mind or something. He always loved staring at the river, watching the water flow between the banks as the cars raced on above. So much so that one day he decided to become a part of it.”

Oh.

“What… what happened?” Namjoon cautiously pressed, joining the girl as he folded his arms across the icy bars, intrigue and a flicker of sympathy drawing him nearer.

“He had a lot of demons in his mind, and I guess he was never able to fight them. In a way I feel like it’s my fault – he was my best friend yet I had no idea of the turmoil that he was going through. I should’ve known that something was wrong, I should’ve tried harder to get him to open up to me and tell me how he was feeling.”

“You can't blame yourself for that.”

“I know, but I guess it’s easier to be angry at myself than at him. He had his whole life ahead of him you know? He was such a promising composer and he was going to places that most people couldn’t even dream about, but not even that was enough to get him to stay.”

“I-it might not have been a choice.” Namjoon replied, the need to defend the stranger that was so similar to himself overtaking him. “Sometimes… sometimes you know that it’s wrong, to feel like that and have those kinds of thoughts, but you can't help it. You try so hard to fight it, but it’s hard. After fighting for so long you just get so tired that you no longer have the strength for anything anymore. It’s not that you necessarily want to disappear, it’s just that you want the pain to stop.”

He felt his cheeks burning despite the frosty air, berating himself for indirectly revealing so much about himself, yet hoping deep down that this girl who was sharing such a personal part of her life would understand.

“There's still so much that I want to tell him. I just wish I could speak to him one last time.”

“You still can. I'm sure he's out there, always listening.”

“Do you think?”

“Mmh.” He nodded. “What would you say to him?”

“Hmm…” She started, taking her time to formulate the words that for so long had been waiting on the tip of her tongue. “I think the first thing that I would tell him, is that it’s okay.”

Namjoon cocked his head to the side in confusion, not expecting her answer to be so simple. Noticing his expression, she gave a small smile and continued, only this time making sure that she was directly looking at him.

“I would tell him that it’s okay to be sad, that it’s okay to be hurt and to feel like your world is falling apart – like you're falling apart. I know that sometimes you feel guilty about it, like you have no right to feel that way, but that’s not true. Your thoughts and feelings are just as valid as anyone else’s, and you have every right to feel them. I would tell him that even though he may feel like he has no strength to carry on, he does. You were strong enough to make it this far, and I know that you're strong enough to keep on going too. Everyone deserves a chance to be happy, and that includes you as well. It might not seem like it right now, but one day you will be happy again, I promise you that. Whether that day is tomorrow or years later, I don’t know, but that day will come – but only if you let it. If you give up now, if tomorrow comes and you're aren’t here anymore, then that day will never arrive. You deserve so much happiness, regardless of if you believe it or not, so don’t take that chance away. Don’t find a permanent solution to a temporary problem, because you deserve so much better than that.”

“But how do you find that strength? If you're already at the point where you want to give up, how do you keep going?”

“You take it step by step. Tell yourself to take it a day at a time, surviving one more day, one more day, until that day finally arrives where you can smile again. And if one whole day is too much, then that’s okay. Take it hour by hour, or even minute by minute if that’s what you need. Whatever it is, whatever it is that you need; it’s okay. Just live for yourself, because you owe yourself at least that much.”

“What if I- what if you can't? What if living for yourself is too difficult?” Namjoon quickly corrected, biting his tongue for the mistake he almost let slip.

“Then live for something else. Find something that makes you happy, even if it’s for a fleeting moment, and live for that. It might be so that you can continue eating your favourite food, or so you can listen to the new music of your favourite singer, or maybe even a movie that you’ve always wanted to see. Perhaps for your pet that wouldn’t be able to survive without you, or to see all the beauty this world has to offer, or just for being able to wake up and feel the sun on your skin. It’s okay to not be able to live for yourself just yet, but until you get to that stage, live for something else.”

“It’s hard though, trying to do all that alone.”

“You're never alone though, not really. I know that at times it can feel like you're the only person in the world and that you are all alone, but this world is full of life, all you have to do is look. There is life in the billions of people all around us, in all the animals that surround us and in the trees and the flowers that adorn our Earth. There is life in the way the cars hum as they race across the tarmac, in the way the streetlights flicker along the pavement, in the way the sea crashes upon the shore, in the way the wind blows through our hair and the sun kisses our skin as it breathes life into our very being. When it gets too hard, look up at the sky. Look up at the stars and remember that there is a whole world out there that you have yet to explore. It may feel like there is no one that understands, but just remember that there are seven billion other people in this world, all of them just as lonely and confused as you are. Whilst we may be separated by borders and the oceans, we all live under the same sky. No matter how isolated you may feel, remember that you never walk alone, for we are all children of the moon.”

Namjoon let her words sink in, for the first time in God knows how long not feeling as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders, for the first time in God knows how long not feeling as though anchors were chained to his ankles, dragging him down into the depths of despair.

“I think he’s very lucky to have a friend like you.” Namjoon whispered after what felt like an eternity of silence, the beginnings of a faint smile painting the corner of his lips.

“And I think the world is very lucky to have you.” She smiled back, moonlight reflecting off the river to form an angel-like glow behind her.

“How would you know? You know nothing about me.”

“Well we’ll have to change that then won't we? How about we meet here for coffee tomorrow afternoon?”

Namjoon chuckled at that, lips wrung back to bare perfect pearls.

“Fine. Let’s meet tomorrow.” The girl beamed at his answer, genuinely happy to see the boy that had only recently been at his end so willingly accept her offer.

“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then!” She giggled as she skipped away, only pausing at the “wait!” cried out after her.

“What’s your name?” She smirked at his question, eyes twinkling with the mischief of a child that had seen the cruelties of the world, yet had somehow managed to stay afloat and become a beacon of hope for those who were still drowning.

“I guess you’ll have to come back tomorrow to find out.”

Tomorrow…

One more day

         One more day

                   One more day.

-The Beginning-

[percywinchester27]

So I didn't know where to go with it, but I just needed some advice. I like this guy a lot. And he tells me he likes me too. But I'm so in love with him. I want him to notice all those little things, and send me cute messages at 4 in the morning, turn up at my door with chocolates at night and stuff. It's been 2 months that we are texting/ flirting and stuff. He's really nice to me... But I can never tell if he really likes me that much.

Hey hi!

I don’t know why you chose to come to me with this, but I’m going to give you some not so fluffy advice. Also I’m so not the type of person to give my own example because I’m not exemplary in any way, but I’m going to share a little, hoping it helps. 

Since I don’t usually share personal stuff, I’m gonna put it under a cut.

I was in 11th grade when this guy asked me out. I threw a fit because I wasn’t the dating type. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and he was not what I had envisioned given the Romantic crap I was reading those days. I wasn’t the most popular girl sure, but I was fairly popular. I was outgoing, chirpy. He was shy, quiet and a real braniac. There was no reason for us to ever talk to each other except we ended up on the same bus for a science camp.

We talked a little, added each other on Facebook, and one day he just dropped it on me. Me being well me, threw a fit about how he could assume that I liked him just because I was nice to him. My sister talked some sense into me, and I eventually apologized for over reacting. 

I am a writer, a painter... I loved to sing and dance. I was everywhere in high school. He played football, wore glasses, topped the class and kept to himself and his select group of friends. We didn’t date. Stayed only friends till the end of high school.

I wanted him to do all these cute things too... Trust me, I did! I wanted him to write me letters and poems and stuff. Do the over the top flirty cheesy pick up line thing too, but he didn’t. He was really shy.

But he would keep stealing glances at me all the time. During classes, between lectures, during breaks. Just always. Everyone eventually knew he had a thing for me, and everyone took the bet that I would never say that yes.

Anyone who’d ever asked me out in high school was sure I’d end up with anyone but him. We didn’t talk much in school but chatted almost every after school on FB.

Then there was the senior year. It was a freak accident. I was in a hurry and I opened the pressure cooker without letting the air out. The thing blasted right in my face. Burned a good part of my neck, collar, forehead, but luckily not the eyes. It was excruciating. I walked around with a lot of bandage for half a month. 

When I told him this on text, his immediate response was whether I was okay, where it was hurting, whether I was totally and completely fine. Not what I looked like anymore. Not if I’ll have those scars permanently. (Spoiler alert: no scars on my face, at all.... A little on my lower back though) He would walk with me bandages or not from one class to another. It never bothered him at all. He somehow ended up liking me... For me. And I am not really that good a person!

Two months is not enough time to judge a person Hon. He may not be the cute lovey dovey guy want, but maybe he is the guy you need.

There’s compatibility, understanding, acceptance and respect. You need to have all of this for a relation to work. Trust me, give it time. Get to know him! If it has to work out, it eventually will. I don’t know if this was what you were looking for, but that’s all I have to offer... Patience is the key

[scripttorture]

I want to blind my character, but I'm not sure how I would do this in a torture setting and I was wondering if you could help me? I don't mind if it's accidentally (or through lack of proper treatment maybe) or it was intentional, but I'm not sure how this could be done without disfiguring the eye itself. If disfigurement is unavoidable, I can still work around it though

Depends what you mean by ‘disfiguring’ the eye.

There are a lot of ways people can go blind without obvious damage tothe eye (and sometimes without damage to the eye at all). That usually happenseither through brain damage or damage to the optic nerve. However I’m not sureeither of those would fit well in a torture scenario- which leaves physicaldamage to the eye.

And before I forget I should also add that ‘blind’ is usually a legallydefined term for eyesight at a certain measurably low level that can’t becorrected medically (I believe the threshold varies with country). The majorityof legally blind people have someeyesight, even if it is just detection of light vs dark or vague shapes. If myeyesight couldn’t be corrected I would be classed as blind (in the UK).Uncorrected I can focus to a distance of about 2-3 inches away from my face. Ican see colour very well and rough shapes. I couldn’t see faces, read and Iprobably couldn’t cross the road safely. But I wouldn’t be walking into walls.

I am honestly unsure what level of vision a character who went throughsome of the procedures I’m going to suggest would be left with. The majorityare basically scarring the outside of the eye which suggests that somedetection of light and colour might be possible. I’d suggest trying to researchcases of scarring or acid attacks to confirm that.

The most obvious way blindness has been inflicted historically isremoving the eyes. I’vegot a previous post on removing eyeballs and blinding here that might be useful.But since this is definitely obvious from a distance it doesn’t entirely fitwith what you want.

The traditional Indian method of inflicting blindness was to insert aheated needle into the eye. I’m honestly not sure exactly what aspect of thisprevents sight; it would cause pretty major damage to several essential partsof the eye at once. I’m also not sure what level of vision, if any, a charactertreated like this would have.

The injury would be pretty obvious immediately after the attack but I’mnot sure if the damage would still be visible from a distance monthsafterwards. Chemical burns to the eye can sometimes cause a milky appearance.Heat burns might look similarbut…that’s not necessarily the case: think of the visual difference between apiece of fish that’s been barbequed and ceviche (which is chemically cooked).

A higher level of scarring around the face is possible depending on howyou plan out the scenario. If the victim isn’t restrained and can strugglethere’s a pretty high chance the attackers will burn and stab their face a fewtimes attempting to hit the eye.

The other thing that comes to mind is- well chemical burns.

Strong acid, alkali and a truly terrifying array of oxidising andreducing agents can cook, saponify or otherwise transform an eyeball into anun-eye-like substance. Generally anything that could quickly blind a personcould also scar other tissue aroundthe eye.

Acid attack victims with eye injuries often have much more obviousscarring to the eyelids, eyebrows and upper face. Sometimes they look as thoughtheir eyelids have melted together like candle wax.

I have heard of people beingblinded by having chemicals dripped directly into the eyes. This is how consensual blinding often takes place.The only source I’ve found that specified a chemical in consensual blindingused bleach. This is a much weaker mixture of chemicals then that used in acidattacks but leaving it in the eye longer can result in injuries that are justas serious.

Alkali burns to the eyes, from substances like lye dust, tend to be moreserious and are more common. Though they’re more associated with industrialaccidents then chemical attacks. Lye also wouldn’t cause massive burns to theface if it was an airborne power. However using a powder would risk injury tothe attacker/s as well as the victim.

After abit of digging I found a very good slide show on chemical eye injuries here.There’s a lot of pictures of injured eyes, just as a warning.

The slides strongly suggest that any burn serious enough to blind wouldalso cloud the cornea in a way that would be visible to other people. A corneatransplant would get rid of that milky colour but you want the characterblinded and a procedure like this would only be done if it had a chance ofrestoring some vision.

Damage to the retina could also cause blindness, but I can’t think of away to have a character do that in a torture setting without causing otherserious, lasting injuries.

So- with the caveat that I think somelevel of cornea scarring is inevitable my suggestions are either going withsomething similar to the traditional Indian method described or using a chemical variant on ‘pepper’.

‘Pepper’ is generally a clean, or non-scarring, torture where chemicalirritants (usually spices like chilli, black pepper etc) are put in mucousmembranes. The eyes are usually avoided nowadays but historically they used tobe targeted as well.

Pick out a household or garden shed sort of chemical: bleach, ovencleaner, a particularly noxious insect killer, and have the torturer use that.This method leaves you scope to decide whether the blinding is accidental ordeliberate: the torturer might not necessarily know how dangerous orconcentrated the chemical is.

The risk of permanent blindness increases the longer the character isleft enable to wash the chemical out of their eye. That aspect fits very wellwith a torture scenario whether the blinding was deliberate or not.

I hope that helps. :)

Edit: I considered and rejected head injuries as a cause of eyesight loss because trying to inflict precise brain damage in a torture situation is impossible. Beating the character about the head might cause blindness…and coma and death.

Edit: An Anon sent this addition via the askbox ‘Also too the blind post, if they want it to be an accident, know someone who lost vision in one eye because she stopped taking her medicine for a few weeks (i think it wad for diabeties) and almost lost it in the other, the only thing that stopped it was surgery, so that's always a possibility too‘ 

Diabetes can result in blindness when untreated and it can happen incredibly quickly. It would also leave no scarring and so may be the best fit for your ask. Not eating properly and not taking enough insulin can have a lot of effects on diabetics and I’d strongly suggest doing a lot of research before choosing this solution. 

I actually really like this as a solution, diabetes is one of the most common disabilities worldwide and one of the most underrepresented in fiction. Thank you for suggesting it Anon.

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