#its not that i feel numb im just pretty sure at this point im living in a long long repetitive dream

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, reader and keigo are married, reader is a civilian, this is post-war, toys (duh), forced orgasms, heavy overstimulation, dacryphilia, aftercare GENRE: smut SUMMARY:  WORD COUNT: 702 🦊’s A/N: god im almost free sorry if this is shit idgaf anymore i need to take a BREAK im sorry this is short as fuck

     when your husband brought up wanting to try a couple toys in the bedroom, he had failed to neglect that you would end up like this! 

     blindfolded and bound spread eagle to the bed, with an evil hitachi wand tied to your thigh with its vibrating head pressed snugly against your swollen, hypersensitive clit, having cum a minimum six times, and at this point, your cunt had gone numb three orgasms ago, yet it still hurt.

     he’d had the heart not to gag you, at least—or maybe his perverted ass wanted to hear your pretty moans turned to choked sobs and wails of his name, begging him to come back, as you weren’t sure if he was even in the room anymore. 

     keigo, meanwhile, had been in the living room, finally doing some of the paperwork he’d been putting off, listening to the sound of your whimpering and whining from his spot on the couch and trying his best to ignore the painful erection in his sweatpants. 

     glancing at the clock on his laptop, he sees it had been about an hour and a half since he had initially left you like this; so he figures he should head back to check in on your exhausted form. 

     the sight he was greeted with was better than anything any porno could cook up—your back arched off the bed as you tug and thrash against the ropes binding you in place, the magic wand he’d tied to your thigh still happily buzzing away against your sensitive cunt, your inner thighs and bedsheets beneath you drenched in sweat and cum. 

     “awh, darlin’—you look so lovely,” he coos softly and your body tenses at the sound of his voice.

     “kei–keigo! you—you bastard!” you cry, wrists tugging at the silken ropes holding them so tightly in place. “you— bitch! l–let me—let me go! please!” 

     you’re right on the precipice of another orgasm when he agrees; “okay, okay—don’t get your feathers all ruffled, dove.” (SIR?) 

     moving to turn off the godforsaken vibrator, he tenderly unties it from your leg, taking his time to run his calloused hands over your quivering thighs as he whispers soft praises of how you did so well for him. shifting to take your blindfold off next—wanting to see your tear streaked face before he untied you—you whine impatiently as he gently undoes the knot keeping the cloth in place. 

     “you’re so pretty when you cry, baby,” he says quietly. “now let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” he suggests, tenderly caressing your face and planting a quick peck to your lips. 

     it’s only a few seconds after that he’s untying your wrists, then your ankles, and turning on one heel to start a warm bath for you, saying he’ll be right back.

     about five minutes of heavy breathing and sporadic twitching later, keigo comes back to scoop you up and gently set you in the bathtub, grabbing a clean washcloth to dip into the water and start washing the sweat off your sticky skin. during the intimate process, he makes sure to ask you how you were feeling and that you knew he was sorry for just leaving you there. 

     afterwards, he drys you off with a soft, fluffy towel and carries you to sit in the plush chair in your room as he changes the sheets in record time, simply discarding the used ones on the floor of the laundry room, a problem to be dealt with later. 

     “you feelin’ okay, sweetheart?” he asks sweetly, voice laced with genuine concern as he picks you back up and sets you on your side of the bed.

     “‘ll be okay…. just—we’re not doing this again anytime soon,” you tell him, mind still hazy from having cum so many times.

     he chuckles quietly at your words and runs his hand through your hair before saying he’s gonna go and get you some water; when he comes back, he’s greeted by your lightly snoring, absolutely passed out form. 

     “ah—that checks out, yeah,” he grins lightly at the sight and sets the water on your nightstand before crawling into bed to spoon you. “sleep well, dove,” he whispers into your ear, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.

return to KINKTOBER | PRO HEROES M.LIST

[secret-sturniolo]

scars to your beautiful - matt sturniolo

summary - When Matt has a sinking feeling about y/n, he takes matters into his own hands to make sure she is okay.

warnings - discussions of self harm, eating disorders, body image (no super graphic details)

a/n - this is based off of some of my own experiences and mental health issues. there will be no graphic imagery or details, but please do not read or interact if this will be a trigger for you.

Matt's POV

I had been asking our friend y/n to hang out with us for weeks now, and in that time my brothers and I had only seen her a handful of times. This was extremely out of character for the bubbly, out going girl that we knew. I had brought this up with Chris and Nick, but they figured that she just needed some space. While that may be true, I still had a bad feeling about y/n that I couldn't shake. I finally decided to call her.

Y/n's POV

I had been holed up in my room for the past few weeks, just idly scrolling through pictures of skinny, beautiful girls on Instagram. I had hit an all time low. Baggy clothes covered my shrinking frame and my red striped arms. It had been days since I had something proper to eat, and my body was feeling the effects. Even though I was so dizzy I could barely stand up, I repeated the mantra in my head. Beauty is pain, beauty is pain. And I would do anything to be pretty. I was past the point of feeling sadness. I was completely devoid of feelings, numb to the world, including my best friends. I knew they were probably worried about me, but I didn't care. I was too focused on the pictures and the razors. In the darkness, my phone screen lit up with Matt's contact.

A facetime call, dammit. I couldn't let Matt see me like this, so ignored the call and just let it ring, not worried about the possible consequences.

y/n, i'm worried about you. please call me. 7:45pm

I stared at the screen, my fingers frozen. Guilt washes over me as I realized how worried Matt was. More thoughts come flooding in.

You have to be pretty for Matt

He'll never like you if you look like that

I toss my phone aside not noticing my new notification, mind made up about what I was going to do next as I walk to my bathroom.

if you don't answer me, im coming over 7:57pm

alright, im coming over. be there in 5 8:00pm

Matt's POV

"Damn it!" I say out loud after there is no answer. I sent her a text, hoping she would call me back. When she didn't respond, I sent a few more messages, silently begging her to respond. Still nothing. My stomach was in knots as I walked out of my room to the living room where Nick and Chris were watching a movie.

"I'm going to y/n's place. Something's wrong, I know it." I say in a panic.

"Woah, Matt, hold on. Did you try calling her?" Nick asks me.

"Yeah, and I sent her texts and shes not responding. It's not like her, Nick."

"Do you want us to come with?" Chris asks me.

"No, I think it's better if I just go," I say, grabbing my keys. "I don't know when I'll be back but I'll let you know."

The drive to y/n's apartment is short as she only lives a few blocks away from our place. I find her spare key from my keychain and unlock the door.

"Y/n?" I yell, with no response.

Wasting no time, I walk towards her bedroom. The room was dark, only illuminated by the light from the bathroom creeping under the door. As I get closer to the door, I could hear faint crying. I say her name again, knocking softly on the door.

"Y/n, its Matt. I'm coming in."

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I opened the bathroom door. She was sitting on the floor, back against the wall with a sharp object in her hand. I took in the red on her arms, the arms that looked smaller than I remembered, and the pill bottle in her other hand. Her eyes were dark and sunken in, she looked so sick and fragile.

Where do I even start? I thought.

Y/n's POV

I had no idea anybody was even here until the bathroom door opened, and I saw Matt standing there. His face was filled with worry as he took everything in. I burst into tears, finally feeling everything at once. Without saying anything, he moved to sit down on the floor next to me, pulling me into his chest. I breathed in the scent of his cologne as I tried to match his breathing, watching the rise and fall of his chest.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner. I had no idea..."

"You weren't supposed to know, Matt!" I sob. He lets me cry into his arms for a few more minutes before speaking again.

"Y/n, you need to tell me what's going on. Have you been eating?" he says gently but sternly.

I buried my face in my hands. "Matt, I can't tell you!"

"You know you can tell me anything, y/n. Talk to me, please." he pleads.

I broke down and told him everything.

"I don't know what to do, Matt! I can't stop. It just feels so right!"

"But why, y/n? Why did this start, did something happen?" He looks into my eyes.

"I just want to be pretty for you, Matt!" I sob.

He pauses. "For me? Y/n, I've always thought you were the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on. You shouldn't change yourself for anyone, especially not for me."

"Can you help me Matt? Like, help me get better?" I ask him genuinely.

"Of course, y/n I will always be here for you." he says. "I want to get you cleaned up, do you have a first aid kit anywhere?"

"There should be one in that drawer." I point with a sniffle.

I watch as Matt gently cleans and bandages my wounds. As he finished up, I grabbed his hand.

"Matt?"

"Hm?"

"I - I love you." I stutter out.

His lips form a smile. "I love you too, y/n. So much."

We both lean in for a quick but passionate kiss, not wanting to go overboard in this moment.

"Can we go to bed?" I ask him.

"Of course, let me text Nick and Chris so they don't worry."

He sends a quick text to his brothers saying he's spending the night at my place, and then helps me up off the ground, carrying me to my bed. He slides his hoodie and shirt off before climbing under the covers with me. I lay my head on his chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breathing. He must have sensed my anxiety.

"Hey, it's all gonna be okay. Nothing bad is going to happen between you and I, I promise it's all for the better. Just go to sleep, and we can talk in the morning." He places a gentle kiss on my head.

God, it's like he can read my mind I thought to myself. I trusted his words, and for the first time in a long time, I finally felt safe.

[mhscipsy]

what is success?

i used to think success meant having some sort of fame or fortune, whether that was through academic achievements or popularity. i grew up in a household that often argued over finances and i was told that i need to make a certain amount of money when im older to survive. i was so scared of not being able to live comfortably that this thought often consumed me. i was never very popular growing up, but i was relatively smarter than my peers. being smart was a major driver of my self-esteem and doing poorly in class made me feel bad about myself. if i am not pretty or popular or smart, then what was the point of my existence; i wouldn't be able to survive in this economy anyways. so, i excelled in school and got into a good university. i finished my bachelor's degree and am now attending a professional program for pharmacy at one of the best universities in my country. this program was not my first choice and i chose to continue to actively pursue my dream program (medicine) while attending this pharmacy program. however, being in a professional healthcare program has made me completely re-think everything i previously thought...

i think i have gaslit myself into being a women in STEM...i used to think i liked sciences (and i think i did when i was younger) but it feels like i have fallen out of love with it. it does not bring me joy to go to class and learn about anatomy, cell receptors and the mathematical modelling of drug absorption. it just feels like something i have to do and i feel like a zombie. waking up, studying until my mind is numb with information, and then sleeping for 6 hours to do it all over again. i am exhausted and preform poorly on exams because i cannot think properly; my poor performance then drives self-hatred and i become depressed and do not feel like studying which makes me do poorly on the next test (you see the cycle). i am not sure what to do. i think to myself: "if you cannot handle pharmacy school, how would you ever manage medical school". i grew up in a toxic household and never learned many good strategies to combat stress. i am not sure if my feelings are true, but in this moment, right now, i actually hate it here and i am not interested in the physical sciences anymore. i think i would want to do something in recreation therapy or counselling. but its hard for me to quit something when i've started, so i am not sure what the right choice is: spend 4 years being miserable or quit now and restart in a new career that pays less money but also costs less to complete (cheaper program)...

i wish there was an easy choice, and maybe seeking help would be beneficial, but i am not sure how much longer i can go on like this...i am not sure if this is what success looks like...thanks for reading my random tangent. i just needed someone to talk to.

[green-pine]

Its been a while since i wrote some sort of actual update, or at least i think it has passed sometime, i honestly dont care.

Anyway, here i am at the 28th of january, i dont know how im feeling rn and i totally forgot how i used to feel in the last months.

What i do know is that im still lacking a purpose to do pretty much anything, i still do stuff, but in. very uninterested way.

I think im still in that sort of loop of numbness, which sometimes gets fixed by meaningless relationships i try to give meaning to, i channel all my very little emotional capacity in them, to feel something and to makes others feel something too.

Im sort of living in day to day way without thinking too much about my future and stuff, in fact, i dont see myself beyond these 3 years of uni, (dont know if ive mentioned before that i go to an art academy) but life will go on and stuff will happen i guess.

Im currently seeing an old friend with whom i had some sort of "situationship" in the past, we occasionally spend time together both normally and in... other ways, if you know what i mean.

i keep myself quite distant both phisically and emotionally, althought deep down id like to be closer and i think he'd like that too, althought im not entirely sure, its our little weird relationship dynamic lets say, or at least its mine. I really dont care about whats gonna happen about it tbh, whatever i could feel, it has already been felt, i cant get hurt in the same way twice.

Surprisingly all of this sort of gives me a purpose, a short lived one ofc, just something to care about for a while, something not really that important nor fully nice, but i sort of like it, i enjoy my friend's company, even just chatting and staying together, althought i never told him that, dont know if i'll ever do actually.

I mean, i could do it at this point, who cares anyway right? All of this its Just a small fraction of supposedly a very long life... i'll see about It.

for now im good with how things are, domt know how long they will last, but thats ok, we can always reconnect in the future and if we'll never do, that will be ok, thats life, forming a losing relationships, forgetting and getting forget, none of them really mattered and none of them are worthy of pain, but i know i cant controll that nor totally fully detach from it.

Anyway thats it for now, i guess this sort of eased my touch starvation, cant say its cured, Just eased for a while, by a person as much lonely as i am, just two poor little souls finding comfort in one another, kinda superficial, kinda sad too...

But hey, thats the Life i got and i chose to keep, i'll keep you (me) updated.

[chronicallyillphoenix]

My psych says that i am emotionally dissociated and this is the reason that in the past 6+ months i have actually felt a single emotion. The rest of the time i feel nothing. Absolute apathy. I get physical sensations of emotions (like tight chest when i would usually feel anxious, widespread tension/pain when i would feel angry, sinking chest and nausea when i would usually feel sad) but i dont actually *feel* the emotions. I have been explaining it like how it feels when getting a cavity fixed, the dentist numbs up the tooth so you dont feel the actual pain, but you still experience the physical sensations like the vibrations, smell, and scraping. She says its because i am still living with my ex and even tho we are friends, i still havent been given the chance to step back and actually let myself process all of my feelings.

Thats probably one of the reasons i am just now realizing im probably really depressed. Which would make A LOT of sense given a lot of the things that have happened in the past 6 months. Like. I broke up with my fiance the same day i got the money for a deposit for a wedding venue, i have lost not one, but three of my cats. And i never got to tell any of them bye because they live with my parents and even tho i didnt want them living outside, i didnt get a voice in the matter since i no longer lived there and the house went from my 2 parents, to 4 adults and a baby and they just didnt have room. Two of them were just really old and we think they did the animal thing and just went off somewhere to die alone and it *hurts* because the first one to go was my favorite because of how sweet he was and who i always slept with in my arms when i would visit (i have struggled so hard to spend the night there with him gone). But once he was gone the other two were gone within the next two months and none of them were expected (like we knew bandit and bunnie were old but we expected to them to pass away inside the cat pen where they stayed every night like every barn cat before them had and that way we could bury them up on the hill, but it didnt turn out that way). I have also developed more concerning health symptoms and have gotten no answers to them. And now my mom has broken her shoulder and isnt going to be able to work for the next 3 months and even tho shes getting workers comp, her pay is significantly less and shes my sole source of income right now. And so i am always already feeling guilty about spending any money but now i feel worse about it and am having panic attacks because i got fast food once this week because i was flaring too bad to make anything myself even tho my mom gives me money *specifically* so i can get food and stuff when i am in a flare.

But yeah i have realized i am almost certainly depressed and the funny thing is that the way i realized this was a tumblr poll. It was asking what peoples hobbies were and i couldnt answer it because in the past year i havent really had anything hobby wise. Ive mostly stopped reading, i am not doing pour paintings, not doing my paracord stuff, and anytime i decide im going to finally start knitting i just end up picking up the yarn and staring at it for a bit before setting it back down and going back to sitting on the couch with the tv on in the background for background noise.

Im going to see my psych on wednesday and i hope to talk to her about this but i also dont know what there is to do about it. Probably raise my antidepressant but idk. Im not even sad so i dont see the point in raising my antidepressant because idk what being not depressed would change because were pretty sure the apathy is because of current circumstances and not just because of depression idk. I just want everything to be normal again

[thegirlwhotalksaboutherlife]

When u are god damn tired of thinking and you decided not to give a fuck about it. And u started saying “Fuck it, I am going to live my life whether it is good or bad.” So yeah, here I am writing at 5:25 am and my thoughts are scrambled. My sleeping pattern is pretty fucked up, I am not sure it is becus of Ive been thinking alot lately or not. Cus so far, I’ve been doing alright I guess? Or maybe I am just faking it 😅. I mean I dont know, I have not been feeling down lately, which is good I hope so. I think it is normal for you to keep on thinking about ur past? But at some point I feel numb about it. Is this even normal? I need answers for this haha. But sometimes if I think about it, I get angry just for few seconds and then I’ll be fine. I guess it is ok to feel numb? I dont feel sad or I want to cry anymore. I am not sure of this feeling, is it becus Ive been hurt alot? That’s why I feel numb?? I dont think it is healthy. What if the numbness feeling will be forever?? I dont want that. I do want to fall inlove but I am scared of my trauma. So lately, Ive been thinking of this guy but the thing is I have no feelings for him and we are only friends. I dreamt of him several times and the signs Ive been dreaming about him in a good way. I dont get it guys, why do I keep on thinking about this dude? He is not even my type haha. I mean seriously, he is not my type. Besides I cant fall for him and he cant fall for me due to our pasts. I know we have similar mistakes but that doesnt mean I can fall into his trap? I dont know guys, I do not expect anything from him anyway. He wants to date someone in the future, go ahead. I dont mind at all. I mean who am I to control his life? I’m a nobody. Even if we were going to date, hmmm Im not sure. Cant think of anything right now. But anyway, whatever happens, happens. If it happens, it happens and if its not, it is fine. Move on and forget about it. Anyway, enough about love. Love is not what I want, I mean I do want to be loved again but lets just focus on ur self and find a job. Ok toodless Xx

[collegiatedegenrate]

My Backstory

I go by R on here, and I'm creating this Tumblr to document and help motivate me with Tumblr's beautiful aesthetics, to complete my wildest academic dreams as someone who is pursuing higher education.

My story is quite similar to other addicts and those who have struggled with substance abuse. I can tell you that I had a rough abusive childhood or how I was so convinced I deserved the things I went through that I allowed it to continue and haunt me into my adult years. But this story isn't about that, it may have been the starting point but it is not my ending, and I will not allow my life to center around it anymore.

I started using drugs and drinking when I was young. It started with alcohol. By the time I was 18 I had a full blown drinking problem and substance abuse issue. I would go to school blackout drunk. I would take double doses of vyvance to get me through class, and take Xanax at night to sleep. I went to school full time, I worked full time. And I made perfect grades, until I didn't.

See, the issues showed before that. And yes, I was so obviously trying to run from my pain. At that point in my life, all I wanted was to numb myself to my emotions, and I had no care as to how that happened. Around sophomore year is when things started to spiral. I cared less and less about how I looked, and I stopped trying in class. I loved learning when I was young. I loved to read. Through years of abuse, how could I possibly care about either of those? I lost my passion for knowledge, because all I cared about was not feeling a damn thing.

I finished high school with a gpa of 3.4, which amazes me to this day. My prospects were not looking good, especially for someone who didn't care about their life. I felt an overwhelming weight of the world on my shoulders as probably any 18 year old does. Hell, we got told "choose your career path you want to pursue for THE REST OF YOUR LIFE:)." I tried. I think I've known my passion has always science. I understood it like the back of my hand. It came naturally, with ease, and with so much joy. The college I chose, was the one in my town that pretty much everyone goes to. So instead of choosing the college of my dreams (if you would've asked freshman year me; Vanderbilt) I chose the one everyone else chose.

I didn't last half the semester before I dropped out. My anxiety and depression were eating me alive to the point I couldn't eat or hold down food, and I couldn't sleep. On top of it all, my drug and alcohol use was at the highest levels. So I dropped out. Actually, I just stopped going.

Now I'm a few months away from being 25, and in the near 7 years I've been out of highchool, I could probably write a book of the shit I've experienced. And that's exactly it. I didnt hit my turning point until after I got sober. I got sober after rehab. But the moment I got sober was not the moment my life changed, but goddamn was it a catalyst for it. Rock bottoms arent always drug related, although many of mine were, but also due to lack of passion. I was living a life that would soon run me into the ground, even without drugs or alcohol. Im not sure I'm ready to delve into the nuances of what I did in-between now and then. All I knew was that I had to do something different. Things had to change, I must surrender to the universe.

So I moved back home with my family. I have been substance abuse free for 2 years now, and I start community college this fall. No, its not the college of my dreams, but its a starting point and god am I grateful just for the opportunity. I will see it through this time around. I know what I don't want to do for the rest of my life, and while I'm not 100% sure the exact route I want to take, I know that I'm ready to venture out and try what I think I want to do.

Thank you to anyone who read any part of that. This is mainly an online journal for myself. I am here for support to any other young adult who's pursuing higher education and/or has a past or is currently struggling with substance abuse/addiciton. Life is worth living, and we might as well try for our dreams while we're here.

Much Love, R

[spacexseven]

ok im sure you're Sick! of hearing about this by now BUT I woke up in a cold sweat last night to write this... I promise I can come up with other things...

ok consider this: dazai going from a mostly sadistic yan to mostly affectionate, possibly delusional for subordinate... maybe dazai decides to spy on them on their day off with their family, but instead of getting fuel to torment his favorite punching bag he just feels... weird, seeing them so carefree. or maybe he winds up injured on a mission and instead of leaving him for the wolves they actually take care of him, until backup arrives, and help can't help but wish they were the one securing his new bandages instead of stupid mori. or maybe mori starts assigning them to new teams to test their progress and dazai gets anxious, seeing them get on so well with other members... hes gonna get them back after this right? RIGHT??? please don't give his puppy away to stinky ol chuuya he'll take good care of them from now on he SWEARS.

either way, he walks away from the encounter depressed with longing. suddenly, his bed is empty to sleep in, to the point where he rifles through their personal effects to steal a shirt he can snuggle up to to catch a couple hours rest.

he gives into the feelings pretty quick after he starts losing himself in daydreams of being soft with his cute subordinate, even getting shy when he talks to them (which. huh?). subordinates pulled off missions (bad puppy, dangerous!!), legs almost too numb to stand with how often dazai wants to curl up in their lap like a housecat, and every time dazai sees them he practically shrieks in delight, begs for their attention even when hes in the middle of something else (is he not embarrassed??)

when he finally mumbles "i love you" against their lips, usually soulless eyes full to bursting with it, a cold dread washes over them. if there was a way out of this before, there certainly isn't now.

of course, dazai never really loses interest in tormenting his subordinate, its just always followed up with being drowned in affection now which is TOTALLY for your sake not his. have fun getting injured on purpose so dazai can live out his fantasies of nursing you back to health like a baby bird lol

- 🩹

ahhh don't worry i'm not sick of it all :D i love clingy dazai

cw: obsession, implied violence towards darling from dazai

"dazai can live out his fantasies of nursing you back to health like a baby bird" describes him best.

like he's always hovering and fretting but he's trying to hide it, 'cos everyone's used to him bullying you at any chance he gets, how weird would it be to see dazai all clingy and whiny right after telling you to do some humiliating task for him? it's really awkward when mori's telling him about transferring to an actual team now that you've made good progress and dazai's all like "no. no way. they're not ready for that."

"but dazai, you've been training them for a year now..."

"so? still not ready."

and yea, mori's the boss, but even he's a little terrified of dazai, so he complies, despite knowing how dangerous this whole thing was.

despite how he genuinely just wanted to get a kick out of you and have someone at his side like a pet at first, once you do something good for him even though he's only ever made your life a living hell, dazai is convinced you must secretly love him. no wonder you never once asked to be transferred or to run away (it's not because you're scared of mori and dazai, definitely not!) he's used to people finding him attractive, but this is you, who he also has a not so subtle crush? infatuation? with, so, it's different.

once he's convinced himself of this, everything changes. suddenly, his little kicks aren't as painful—or were you just developing muscle? he's stopping you from going on any missions that aren't only with him, forcing you to stay inside and do paperwork?! or bring him snacks, which he makes you feed him. it's so weird to see him plastered at your side all the time, and while he still likes bossing you around, it's less violent than before (for now, at least. sometimes he just gets up and for no reason, decides to injure you—but it's better than the previous times he'd throw you into a fight with a proficient ability user and turn the other way)

once he decides the two of you are totally in love and he finally confesses, it's really over. he'll never 'lose interest' like you might have been previously hoping, he'll never just decide you're no fun to kick around anymore and pick on someone else. it's really just you for him for...probably a long time. well, at least he actually tries to nurse you back to health this time, even if the bandages are a little too tight and his stitching is uneven, and his habits of kissing each wound because "love helps it heal faster" gets on your nerves. better than nothing, right?

[thebluespirit83]

debunking pro-snape/anti-james arguments and putting it on the internet because clearly i hate myself. buckle up. this is gonna be a VERY long post. im ready for the amount of hate i will get; im willing to take one for the team. 

1. james forced lily into dating/marrying/etc him 

this literally never happened? because its almost as if lily is her own person who is able to stand up for herself-

“I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. James and Sirius eyed it warily.

She turned on her heel and hurried away [from james]. 

-and so she would not allow someone to walk all over her. its almost as if james (canonically) matured as a person, and she appreciated this, realised he was a good person and got feelings for him? because james’ only negative traits were that he was conceited and a show off. people are able to mature and grow from these things! james did this! he did not ‘force’ lily to go out with him!

2. james and the other marauders bullied snape

you know what, i cant even disagree with this one. you’re right - they did bully him. but lets look a little bit at the context. 

sirius and james were both upper class, naive white rich boys. they are idiots. they were both stupid smart teenagers!! they were popular! and while this does not excuse the gross bullying snape was subject to-

Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape’s mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him

Several people watching laughed; Snape was clearly unpopular ... Snape was trying to get up, but the jinx was still operating on him; he was struggling, as though bound by invisible ropes.

-it (unfortunately) makes sense with context. james and sirius also stopped bullying people, and even expressed discomfort/regret with the way they acted-

“I’m not proud of it,” said Sirius quickly.

“Of course he was a bit of an idiot!” said Sirius bracingly, “we were all idiots!

[sirius talking to remus] you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes

A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it.

-when they were younger! i’d also like to point out these little lines i noticed when i was finding quotes for my argument which snape stans like to ignore:

James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other

I mean, he [snape] never lost an opportunity to curse James

there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James’s face, spattering his robes with blood

wow, look at that. the hate they felt for each other was mutual! snape also jinxed james! but oh wait - james was the one who matured! snape was the one who bullied his son twenty years later because he looked like james! 

3. snape didnt abuse the kids at hogwarts 

here’s a real argument i saw when looking through some pro-snape posts: ‘snape wasn’t an abuser, because abusers don’t let their victims retaliate, but snape did let the kids talk back to him’

what. the. fuck?! 

this is the dictionary.com definition of abuse: ‘to treat in a harmful, injurious, or offensive way’ or ‘to speak insultingly, harshly, and unjustly to or about’. i’m pretty sure snape did both of these things-

“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!”

“So,” said Snape, gripping Harry’s arm so tightly Harry’s hand was starting to feel numb.

Snape threw Harry from him with all his might.

[hermione’s teeth]  "I see no difference."

‘Idiot boy!’ snarled Snape [at neville]

-on multiple occasions. i’d also like to remind you guys that neville’s worst fear is SNAPE?! his TEACHER, a figure that is supposed to be there for emotional and educational support is his worst fear in this entire world?! above the woman who drove his parents to insanity? over failure, over his abusive grandmother, over everything? his teacher? and for the pro-snaper that used this quote-

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically.

-to claim that it was a joke, it isn’t a joke. because when snape came out of that cupboard, he was terrified. yes, it’s an embarrassing thing to have as your boggart, but the point is is that it is. he is terrified of that man. 

4. james only joined the order because his wife was a muggleborn and he ���had to’

this is just factually incorrect. james had been sticking up for muggleborn rights since he was in school, far before he started dating or even became friends with lily: 

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him.

“I’d NEVER call you a - you-know-what!”

so this is literally not true!! plus, at least he did join the order, whatever his reasons where (which were canonically good). snape didnt join the order. snape was friends with someone who suffered discrimination in society, and instead of using his privilege to help her and support her, he joined a group that was set on murdering people like her. when james had a friend who underwent oppression (remus/lycanthropy) you know what he did? he illegally became an animagus. 

5. snape had to be a death eater to survive at hogwarts as he roomed with blood supremacists

this is the shittiest excuse i have ever seen in my entire life. as a poc, this comment really reminds me of the argument ‘i was raised in a racist white household! i cant control my beliefs!’

you can always control your beliefs. i understand not going on big rants about blood inequality in front of a bunch of supremacists, and i understand wanting to blend and fit in (especially because he was unpopular and needed the support the slytherin boys provided), but i will never understand then becoming an active member of the group yourself. he got the dark mark. he helped voldemort. he was a death eater, and a proud one at that! no-one forced him to join. this argument literally makes my blood boil. 

6. snape had a lot of trauma from being raised in an abusive household

okay? so did sirius. so did neville. luna was bullied at school, just like snape. harry lived in an abusive household. did any of those people bully children? did any of those people join a blood supremacist group? and dont get me wrong, im not calling any of these people perfect - they all had a lot of flaws - but none of them hurt another people to the extreme that snape did. 

7. snape saved the trio’s lives many times

this is the absolute bare minimum. ‘oh wow, he didnt let harry die!! what a king! he should be respected and praised! we should excuse all of his other actions because he didnt let people die <3′ 

8. snape is not a perfect person, he also did good that many people overlook

you’re right, snape did do some good things in his life. but unfortunately, for me and many others, doing a couple of good things doesnt excuse all of the shitty, abusive things he did too. we’re not ignoring them - we just dont think they’re good enough reasons to forgive him. 

‘but james and sirius hurt others! you ignore all the bad things they did in favour of the good!’ you do the same thing with snape, first of all. second, they did a lot of good stuff. james’ and sirius’ only crimes were being annoying. for being a bit of a dick, conceited, knew they were hot and were a bit entitled. while these things are annoying as fuck, they were also stupid teens that eventually grew out of their behaviour and became better people. not perfect! better. while snape just stayed bitter at the marauders, long after their deaths, and even took his anger out on an innocent child. 

9. people only hate snape because he was poc and queer coded

as a poc and queer person, please stop. this is a very bad excuse. being poc and queer (which im pretty sure he isnt, but anyway) doesnt excuse you from your actions. plus, a huge amount of harry potter readers are poc and lgbtq. why would they hate snape for those reasons?! 

so thats all i got for today. im not gonna go into a deep snily/jily thing because i literally cannot be bothered. anyway im done. i need to go revise, i’ve already spent long enough on this. 

[technowoah]

hey hey hey! i really really really love ur works and wanna reuwest a purpled x reader one. also since purpled said hes only comfy with his character what about the reader losing their last cannon life to dream and purpled gets really really sad until like- a month later, she comes back from hell. kinda like c!jacks revival. If your not comfy with this pls ignore <3

My Mission

Purpled is still trying to figure out how to deal with your death, but before he can you come back.

- Platonic Purpled x Revived!Reader

- Anon Requested!

- blurb

- italics = flashback (except the last few lines)

- the "hes" out of italics are referring to Purpled.

���︎: slight swearing, angst to fluff-ish, gore, no dsmp spoilers.

An// I know this is late but I'm having major writers block lol ✌🏾😛 I hope you like it love!

The night was cold as he sat on a hill away from the kingdom Dream had made himself. The tall grass flowed around him like a blanket on his bed he wish he could be in right now, but he chose this, he chose to be here. His blonde hair whipped around his face harshly, but he didnt bother move it out of his eyes he could still see the destination ahead of him.

The kingdom looking like a bright star the fell to the ground. He used to love sitting and watching the lights of the kingdom at night flicker like a fallen star that still had its glow. The small smile he had on his face fell when his mind reminded him of the tragedy a month ago.

The night was cold and dark and that couldn't resemble how he was feeling right now. Anger, resentment, betrayed flowed through his heart. He wanted revenge.

The swords were already shined and ready for blood, arrows sharpened to the point, and potions made to kill the second it envelopes you. Months of preparation was right there next to him, ready to be finally used.

He wanted revenge for his best friend.

He left the kingdom for an hour grabbing every weapon he had before finding a place he used to go with his best friend.

----------------

"The kingdom looks beautiful!" You said while standing up in the tall grass.

Purpled had taken you to a far away spot out of the dsmp kingdom just for fun.

"I know, I come here often when I want to clear my head." Purpled said while sitting down in the hill letting the grass tickle his skin.

It was the middle of the say and almost sun down. You two had hiked up away from the kingdom and up a semi huge hill that gave a great view of the lights.

"How did you find this place?" You smiled to the boy sitting down to the side of you.

"Just was hiking I guess!" He laughed. "Well I was looking for more caves outside of the kingdom and stood on this hill, and looked back and saw the beautiful view."

"Now this is your spot now?" You smiled and nodded.

"I mean it's our spot now. You're the only other person who knows about it." Purpled motioned for his friend to sit down and you did.

"Great." You smiled at him and he shared that smile.

"Great."

------------------

He finally stood up from his spot on the hill and made his way back to the kingdom, weapons at his mercy and ready to be used.

The walk back to the kingdom was long, but he wasnt in a rush. He just wanted to keep his mind calm before he finally faced the man who he wanted to kill. The man whos blood should be on his arrows and swords he just sharpened for this occasion.

He walks with purpose and in stride. He always does, he was always busy around the kingdom. Making something new or not even saying what he was doing, no one would want to cross his path because no one would want to know what trouble he was gettng himself into. But they always knew he would come put alive in the end.

He walked along the prime path keeping his gaze forward. He sped up his walk trying to get to the place he needs to go faster to get this feeling out of his body. Sadly him staring straight ahead made him bump shoulders with someone passing by. He didn't have the time to look back and stop, but a familiar voice made him stop.

"Hey! Watch where the fuck you are going!"

Damn it.

He tried to walk away, but he heard the footsteps get closer and the protests get louder.

"Hey asshole! You know Im talking to you Purpled?! Stop!"

"What do you want Quackity?!"

"Damn it took that long for you to turn around?!" The scarred man laughed as the blonde started at him blankly.

Quackity had a small smirk on his face before he looked around to make sure no one else is spying on them. Quackity chuckled while crossing his arms looking at the impatient blonde infront of him.

"What. Do. You. Want. Shouldn't you be in Las Nevadas?" He scoffed.

"I should! I should. But I heard about your little predicament." Quackity still had that taunting smile on his face.

"I wouldn't call it a predicament I would call it a missi-"

"A mission. Yeah I know, that's what you call every thing now-a-days." Quackity shook his head in disbelief. "Even when your best friend dies..Its a damn misson."

Purpled stayed quiet and let the older man talk. He didn't need to hear this, but at least this will hunor him before his miss- plans.

"Its a shame! It really is. But you know what Purpled?" Quackity's voice got quieter.

"If this is about Las Nevadas, you should leave. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"I bet you do." Quackity looked away from the blonde. "Its a shame that you dont even know where Dream is to kill him."

--------------

"Y/N! Get out of my way!"

"I will not let you hurt him!"

"Get out of his way!"

Purpled was injured, pretty badly at that. He was clutching his side in pain where a arrow had struck him. His face had long cuts across it, and so did his body. The only way you could see the cuts along his body is because the cuts Dream had made tore through his clothes.

Purpled looked like he couldn't stand back up. You didn't want to know why they were fighting so brutally, you only showed up when Dream stood above Purpled about to take the final blow, sword clutched tightly in-between his hands.

The only thing you saw was that and you ran in the middle of the two blocking Dream from doing anymore damage to Purpled. Now the two men are yelling at you to get out of Dream's way.

"You're really stubborn aren't you?" Dream dropped his sword to his side, but still kept that tight grip on the handle.

"For my friends, yeah I am." You said with your head held high looking at the masked man.

"Y/N." Purpled groaned behind you. "Go, please."

You turned your whole body around to face him. He couldn't get up, still kneeling on the ground he tried to move and stand to his full height. It was impossible for him to do so. You saw a keep gash where his knee is. Dream must've stabbed his knee, through his knee.

"You stay down! I can handle this!"

"Where is your armor?! Huh?! Where is all your gear?! You're vulnerable!"

"You are too!"

"As much as this pains me to see the two bestest friends fight, Move." Dream said sternly while placing a rough hand on your shoulder.

"Dream get your hand off of them!" Purpled yelled.

"At this point you cannot tell me what to do." Dream chuckled. "This state that you're in! Its pathetic!"

Purpled hung his head low while Dream kept on running his mouth.

"Y/N! Do you even want to know why we're even fighting?! Its all his-"

"I dont want to know. Frankly I dont care just stop hurting him." Your words came out calmer than you wanted because you really were vulnerable at this point.

"I haven't even finished the job, my misson." Dream scoffed.

"If you wanto to finish "your mission" go through me first." You said while finding Purpled's sword on the ground next to him and gripping it tightly just like Dream.

"Y/N stop this!"

"Fine then."

Dream had grabbed your shoulder again so hard it could leave a bruise and brought your shoulders forward. You didn't have any time to react and the next thing you saw when you looked down was his sword going through your stomach. It hurt to breathe, and you felt yourself coughing up blood onto the grass beneath you. He had finally let go of your shoulder and you fell to your side letting your body go numb.

"NO DREAM!" Purpled tried to reach you, but ended up getting kicked down by Dream.

"Im done with you now. Its no point. I thought killing you would be better, but watching you suffer after your best friend gets killed is good enough for me."

"My mission is done, and they were right. You are vulnerable."

-------------

"Where is he then?" He asked trying not to sound rushed.

"You would like to know huh? Well Let me tell you about this thing I have first. I mean if you want to know where Dream is for your little mission" Quackity proposed and he stayed quiet waiting for the older man's response.

"I have this book, it was given to me by an old ally of mine. It has all of the lives of everyone in it. The whole book is filled with names and if they are dead or not-"

"Where are you going with this?" He interrupted.

"Im saying that not everyone knows of Y/N's death. Its not any big headlines. So I read this book often and I so happened to see their name and underneath it, it said they were dead."

"And?"

"I have a proposal-"

"No." He started to walk away leaving Quackity to stand and yell at the younger one.

"Oh come on! Dont you want your friend back?!" Quackity yelled as the other walked away briskly.

"Fine! You'll owe me!"

----------

It was over. He ended up back on the same hill again, but this time it was pitch black and the only light available was the light in the stars and the light from the kingdom. He could hear faint noises of mobs in the distance, but they didn't dare come near him.

His eyes started to water and his vision began to get blurry. He didn't kill Dream, he couldn't. That's not what you would've wanted.

Dream was right all along. He was vulnerable, he was always vulnerable.

He closed his eyes letting tears drop onto his cheeks. He was upset that he couldn't fulfill his mission, the one thing he knew he could do for the one he misses the most in life. He failed. And now Dream is sitting somewhere, he didn't even take Quackity's proposal. He didn't even know what Dream was to kil him.

Still, even if he wasnt discouraged, he would've still tried to hunt Dream down. He didn't care if it took him months to a year, he didn't care if it killed him. One day.

He looked out to the kingdom once more with eyes full of tears. The kingdom now looking like a ball of light and not as detailed.

"Purpled?"

He sighed brushing the call off, he was hearing things.

"Hey, Purpled."

He shook his head with his hands cupping his face. He was convincing himself that his head was playing tricks on him because there is no one that could be out here at this time.

"I thought I would get a warmer welcome than this."

He felt the grass moving beside him and he quickly turned his head to his right where he saw the person he wanted to the most. You.

It was you, but you had a white streak in your hair, your stomach still had a bigger scar still on it. It was you, it was finally you. He hesitated before reaching out to hug you, there was some tall grass in between you two but it didn't matter, he had you back. You had to feel tears fall on your back because he was crying, he tried to keep his sobs quiet but they slipped out.

"Are you okay?" He asked while sniffing.

"Im alive now. Thats progress." You responded hesitantly before continuing. "I wanted to stay dead. I mean it had to be my time right? I was in hell and I don't know why. Why was I there?!"

You started sobbing on his shirt as well and you took a big breath before starting to talk again.

"And then I just showed up not that far from here. It was horrible, like an out of body experience. I dont know who brought me back either! But now I found you here and Im okay enough." You smiled with tiredness in your eyes as you pulled away from the long hug.

"I tried to kill Dream." He confessed.

"Because of me?"

He hummed in agreement "I couldn't, thats not what you would've wanted."

"Why would you know what I wanted?" You asked the blonde. "I was dead for a month."

"You wanted me to kill him?" He asked with a bit of excitement in his voice.

"Consider this a new mission." You smiled while standing up and him following suit.

"My mission." He whispered while looking at the ground. "It'll take a while, but we'll get him. I promise."

You two locked pinkie fingers together to seal the promise. A promise that would be sealed to the end of time. No matter how long or who dies, he never fails a mission.

"Oh! Also, I have a note for you." You handed him a small torn note that you found lying next to you when you reappeared.

--------------

Dear Purpled,

You're welcome. They're here now.

Remember that favor I never got to ask you?

I suppose you should listen to me now.

Q

[compassionatereminders]

Hey, what is up? Kat? I just wanted to vent, if thats alright. Im an old man. As in, Im pushing 30. In another couple years. Im pretty exhausted. Im in and out of treatment and never taken seriously when I do go. I have an incredibly hard time holding a job. Anywhere from 1 to 3 months is about my max at each place and then anywhere from 1-6 months to find a new one. I have only been able to survive now because of the help from my mom, but I am getting older so she is too, you know what I mean? I have been homeless before. I feel now I am preparing to become homeless again. I am currently working, but I dont know how long it will stick. Im actually a little suprised they have not fired me yet given I stopped showing up to half my shifts so that I can instead sleep, cry, or numb myself or all 3. I have bursts of energy for like a week or a day or a few hours, but affer that it's just gone and im depressed and useless. Everyone just thinks I am not trying hard enough, but work (and therapy and anything that requires more than one visit a month) is hard for me to be consistent with either because my mental health will make it so or the prejudice from being trans just gets old and exhausting. Something about knowing a lot of the world just wants you dead and gone makes that voice in your head telling you that nobody would care if you died a whole lot more valid. I just, dont want to be one of those guys living under a bridge that most people cant even stomach making eye contact with, but I dont know what I can do to change it. I just want to give up. Im not sure at which point it was supposed to have gotten better for me, but it never did and I am still trying, but I just dont know why anymore. It doesnt work. I still fail. Its never enough for anyone. And Im so tired.

To me it sounds like you're doing your best to cope in a system which is refusing to meet you halfway and that the actual reason you're struggling so much is the treatment and accommodations you haven't been receiving. It's hard to keep pushing when the people meant to support and accommodate you through your struggles aren't even taking you seriously and when the kind of resources you need aren't offered. And it's not on you that it's hard. I don't have a solution for your situation, and I'm definitely not qualified to guide you through it, but I hope it helps a little to know that someone sees that you're trying and that you deserve better than being blamed for struggles which are outside your control.

[madfantasy]

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

[ohholyfanfics]

Ten Stages: Stage One| Tom Holland

Stage One: Realization, the stage where they slowly start to realize that they are falling for someone. Where Tom has a sudden realization thanks to his best mate Harrison Osterfield.

She was running late, a bit later than usual. Checking his watch once more, Tom found himself humming along to the slightly over-played tone filling the car. The hot Virginia sun causes sweat to form on his forehead; reaching over, he quickly switched the AC settings knowing she'd complain the moment she got inside the car. Biting his bottom lip, he felt a wave of relief wash through him as he watched her walk out of the building. Hair in a neat ponytail, her figure hugged by a dress that looked way too good on her. Her light pink blazer rested on her arm as she waved goodbye to a colleague before making her way over to his car.

"Ah always a gentleman.." she hummed in approval watching as he swiftly got out of the car and opening her door.

Giving her his signature boyish grin, he leaned close to her, placing a soft kiss onto her cheek. Closing her door, she couldn't help but roll her eyes, watching as he climbed back in. Tom watched as she fiddled with the climate control on her side from the corner of his eyes.

"You sure you aren't going through menopause or something.." he mumbled, backing out of the spot and soon driving them towards their weekly lunch date.

"Isn't that your job to know.." she hummed, pulling her phone out from her bag. "Plus, I think I'm a bit to young for that Thomas.." she mumbled.

"Well aren't you a doctor.." he huffed out as she took this chance to slap him across the head. The loud groan that escaped his lips was enough the have a satisfied sigh escaping her own.

"Besides the point Holland, how was the first half of work? Any life saving surgery?"

He shrugged, he loved what he did, and every day, he was thankful for it. Sure it was hard work to get where he was now, but here he stood. Now three years into residency, he had somewhat of an idea of what he wanted to do. After learning that a position would be opening up at the hospital, he knew this is where he was meant to be.

"Not really, pretty slow today.."

She nodded her head; Tom was a bit further along than she was. He was nearing the end of his term and now had a whole different set of pressure resting on his shoulders.

"A spot is opening up at the hospital though.." he mumbled once they were seated at the country club—the same country club where they had first been introduced.

"Wow Tom, are you gonna apply?" She asked with wide eyes. They hadn't talked much about his plans after med school; she knew he had some sort of idea of staying local. "Is it in the department you're in now?"

"Um it's actually in the trauma department.." he stated as she nodded her head. This was the first time he was actually voicing his future plans with her. It wasn't that he kept her in the dark or that she felt entitled in being informed. Tom was her best friend, and she just wanted to support him in any way possible.

"Wow that's huge.." she stated as he nodded his head. He knew she had been seeing or talking to some guy from the hospital. It was possibly the first time since March that she had actually gone out on a date. Tom doesn't know if she went on a date or if they even still talked.

"Not sure if it's something I want though."

Y/N knew that was a code for closing that conversation, so she did just that. In an instant, their discussion switched to the fact that she will be gone for a few days. Tom had promised to look after her place along with being on dog sitter duties for Layla. He hummed softly as she basically gave him a tiny little run down of her short weekend trip and promising takeout the moment she's back. He knew it was a code word for debriefing after spending a few days confined with her family members.

"Harrison's coming down right?" She asked once they were seated at their usual table. "He texted me asking if I'll be around.."

"Yeah, he's staying a couple days.." he mumbled, eyes scanning the menu though it was kinda pointless. He already knew both their words.

"Hmm, it'll be good for you." She mumbled, clearing her throat. As much as y/n hated to admit, she knew this time was difficult for any medical student. The ending was nearing, and the sudden pressure to have everything set in stone was terrifying. However, she knew as much as anyone that Tom was in a much different mindset than when they first met.

The Tom Holland sitting before her was different; he had a future planned out for himself. Sure, he didn't plan ahead like she had, but the small amount he did was a great start. She also knew that pushing him into making decisions was never an intelligent choice; Tom knew what he wanted and had all the necessary tools to pursue whatever it was he wanted in life. One thing she was clear on was that he was staying in Virginia.

"Can I ask you something.."

She looked up at him nodding her head. His tone was slightly different, closer to the one he used the morning after their last candle and wine night. The same night where she may have cried a bit too much in his guest room.

"That night at the beach, when when we made the bet, where you in a sense preparing yourself? You know, for like the breakup?" He asked softly, thanking the waiter as they set their drinks down.

She looked at him a little dumbfounded, not really knowing what to say. She knew what she had to say, but the words couldn't seem to come out. She looked at him for a few seconds, mind racing before finally speaking.

"No, I wasn't. If I'm being completely and utterly honest with you Tom, I thought Marc was maybe the one. We were together for so long and everything was so close to perfect. I don't think I really ever saw us ending.."

He nodded his head, ignore the slight sting upon hearing those words, not that he was surprised. It hurt him to know that something that she believed in so desperately ended without any explanation. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she was feeling or what she thought the moment everything sunk in. However, Tom also knew y/n was a lot stronger than everyone gave her credit for.

"Have you talked to him?"

"No, he didn't answer the first couple of texts I sent. So I guess I kinda got the hint you know. I'm not necessarily bothered by it, I mean I was in the beginning but now it kind feels numb."

"Shouldn't you like talk to a professional love.." he mumbled as she smiled at him softly. "I know it's in a sense traumatizing.."

"Don't worry doctor, I talk to my shrink about it. Im kinda coming to terms with the fact that maybe we weren't meant to be.." she mumbled as he nodded her head. "I just, I'm focusing on myself and getting through all this. If love comes my way it comes my way..."

"How knows darling, the one might be right under your nose." He chuckled, leaning over to bop her on the nose. He couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips, watching her nose scrunch up and eyes crinkle up.

"God I hate you sometimes.."

It's been two days since Y/N had left for New Hampshire on a small family getaway. As much as she wanted to drag him along, and as much as Tom hated to admit it, a weekend with the Y/L/N sounded pretty amazing; Harrison finally got some time off and was coming to visit. He was had just finished stocking his fridge with a few essential items the two would need before the door open and the sound of barking welcomed the blond inside the townhouse.

He couldn't help the sense of familiarity that washed over him seeing his best friend come into view. Tom hated to admit it, but he needed to see him, more than he could like to admit. After a hug that might have lasted a few seconds longer, they were both drowning in beer and one of Harrison's favorite dishes made by y/n.

"Where is our own personal pyschatrists anyways?" he asked before taking a sip of his beer.

"Went up north to visit family, something about get together or whatever.."

Harrison nodded his head, picking at the label on his beer. The two had done a decent amount of catch-up, but he couldn't seem to notice the lack of mention of his neighbor.

"Marc must be happy to see her.." Harrison mumbled as Tom tensed up at the name. He wasn't sure what Harrison did and didn't know. "I actually ran into him a few days ago."

Tom choked slightly on his beer as he looked back at him at a loss. He wrecked his brain on what he could say but kept coming out short. The one thing coming to mind was just blurring out how Marc suddenly stopped responding without an explanation. How he suddenly can't stop thinking about their stupid bet, and how every day the chances of becoming a reality increase.

"Mate, they aren't together anymore..."

"Stop bullshitting me Holland, Marc looked very much in love with her when I asked him how things were between them.."

Tom couldn't help but scoff, thinking back to the night she had shown up with too many bottles of wine and a broken heart.

"Mate he ghosted it, thats a pretty funny way of showing your love."

"Fuck, I had no idea."

"No one did mate."

The past few days were pleasant and relaxing; the two spent time together. Harrison was just what time needed, and within the short few days Harrison was there, Tom realized a couple of things:

One that he couldn't possibly live without both Y/N and Harrison in his life.

Two that he was going to take the position at the Trauma Department.

"Thomas Stanley did you miss me..." she giggled softly as he brought her into a bone-crushing embrace. The sigh that escaped his lips was overwhelming.

Maybe, you don't see her as just a friend, mate. I don't do half of the shit you do with her, with Jessica.."

"Shut up, Y/N.." he mumbled, slightly pushing her away while shaking Harrison's voice out of his head. "I got that wine you told me about.."

"Yum, it's good." she stated as she took a seat at the island. He couldn't help but smile as she leaned over, smelling the candle he had picked out. "Cactus Bloom?"

"Its a good debriefing scent, not too intesne.."

I don't bother to memorize small insignificant facts about just some random girl, not even if we're close. I'd understand a few minor details, but not all.

She watched as he poured them both a glass before handing her a plastic spoon and pushing a carton of takeout towards her. She hummed in appreciation, sending him a wink.

"So how was your few days with Harrison?" she asked, swirling the pasta around. "How's he doing?"

"He's doing, says the kids say he speaks funny.."

"He does speak funny, you both do.." she hummed, locking eyes with him and a wide grin. "But its a cute funny.."

"Funny."

She hummed, sending him a wink before taking a few more sips of her wine. He sighed, leaning back in his seat as he took a good look at her. She looked different; she was happier, lighter even. It was clear these few days away did good on her, and he was glad.

You notice the little things about her Tom, from the color of her nails to when her mood shifts. No one reads that deep unless they fancy someone.

"I'm gonna take the spot in the truma department.."

Her lips formed an 'O' before launching herself into his arms. Her lips lightly brushing the skin against his neck, causing his arms to hold her a little tighter.

Now tell me, Holland, how does she make you feel? Don't hold back anything Tom, it's me. You can be honest, mate. Do you fancy Y/N?

"God, Tommy I'm so happy for you.."

The way her eyes sparkled caused a storm to awaken within him. His heart was beating a bit too fast, the sudden urge to pull her into a kiss. The feeling was overwhelming as she started to ramble still in his embrace.

It was at that moment that the realization kicked in. Tom Holland was starting to fall for his best friend, and he wasn't sure how to deal with it.

Taglist:

@thenoddingbunny-blog @blueberrynonnie @bi-lmg

[bloomingnono]

meant it. (part 2)

pairing: jeno x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: ~ 1.7 k

warnings: language (like one curse word akjds)

intro l part 1 l part 2

a/n: im so sorry for the long wait:( i wanted to make sure i did my best, and wrote something i was overall pretty content with! but here’s the second, and final part to “meant it”!! i hope you all enjoy, especially my dear 🍿anonie<3

also not me making major adjustments 5 minutes before posting💀

taglist of my loves: @luvlyjaemin @vera-liscious @lenaluvs

Your bed felt cold. The type of cold that left your body weak. And yet again, you found yourself fighting to let sleep consume you.

You hesitantly turned to your left side, hoping that maybe, this was all just one big nightmare. That maybe when you turned around, he’d be there.

But you were only met with the other side of your bare bed; your lamp casting an amber tinge on your snow-white sheets.

Four weeks had passed since those final words had been exchanged. He had left you broken.

To say you missed him was an understatement.

You longed for the way your heartbeat quickened at his sight. You longed for the way your stomach fluttered as your name effortlessly slipped out of his lips. You longed for his touch; the way his fingers lingered against your skin.

You missed him.

But at what cost? To hear those three empty words leave his mouth?

No. Never again.

It was unfair to Jeno. But most of all, it was unfair to you.

You didn’t deserve to be told such idle lies.

Especially not from the one person you would give up your entire life for.

Jeno was a naive soul; so sincere and trusting of what only met the eye.

Mistakes were a daily occurrence in his life; learning and growing from them as he paved his way through.

.

But the second you left, he knew he had made the biggest mistake yet.

.

On the night when everything ended, there was an inexplainable feeling of void growing within him.

He didn’t have a reason to smile, nor the energy to cry.

Unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, he felt incomplete. It left him numb.

Before he knew it, four weeks had already gone by.

Four weeks since he last held your frame in his grasp. Four weeks since he last saw the face he once fell in love with. Four weeks since he left you utterly broken.

But in those four weeks, Jeno wasn’t living. He was simply existing.

He was merely left in his world; his actions and their consequences, being his sole companion.

He knew it was unfair to continue to lie and prolong the inevitable. But, why did it feel so wrong? It was the right decision to choose... right?

‘To choose.’

It seemed like such a simple action. It was something we did on a daily basis; nearly every second of every day.

Yet it held so much influence.

Jeno had finally realized that now.

Everything in life was purely a choice.

.

Everything.

You lie on your bed, your mind lost in all the bumps and ridges that painted your cream-colored ceiling.

It was late into the night, the moon peeking its way through the slits of your window blinds. The silence was peaceful, yet deafening.

Despite the unsettling aspects of the stillness, you’re ready for it to devour you; yearning for that feeling of tranquility that you haven’t felt in weeks.

But just as you are about to give in, you’re abruptly interrupted by frantic raps on your front door. Jostling up into a sitting position, you force yourself off your bed to check and see who was causing such a fuss.

The knocks on your door persist, not allowing for a single moment of intermission.

Apprehension quickly overtakes your body, frightened at what could possibly cause such actions to befall at this ungodly hour.

You hesitantly grab your doorknob, carefully turning it and opening the door just a fraction of the way.

You are met with a hunched figure; their hands on their knees and their hair damp with —what can only be assumed as— sweat. Their labored breathing leads you to believe they had run here, and hastily at that.

After a few short-lived seconds, you carefully try to assess the situation; fear still coursing throughout your body.

“Can I help you..?”

The figure instantly tenses at your tone, as if taken aback by the sound of your voice.

You watch in confusion as they begin to catch their breath, and stand to their full height. Straining your eyes to try and identify their face, you’re left frozen at the single feature that was recognizable even in pitch darkness.

His eyes.

You instinctively take a step backward, distrusting your vision.

But your presumption reigns true, as the figure tentatively takes a step forward through the doorway; his face now fully illuminated by your foyer light.

.

Lee Jeno.

.

He seemed to be in a terrible state: his hair a mess from the sweat, his clothes violated by the wind, and his breaths still quite uneven.

You attempt to try and form a coherent sentence, but the words seem to die in your throat. You could only look up at him, staring blankly with your mouth hung open.

“Wha... What are you doing here...?”

“I came to see you. I needed to talk to you. Immediately.” His expression was unreadable, yet his tone held the familiar hint of desperation. “I miss you. I want— No. I need you back. Nothing in this world seems right when I’m not with you. I’m not who I am without you. I need you…”

The silence that follows is unbearable.

It takes a few moments for his words to sink in. You feel your eyebrows furrow in confusion, contorting your features into a frown.

But the confusion is quickly replaced with the dreaded feeling of anger. It swiftly fills your entire soul, kindling a flame. The one emotion you tried so hard to repress, viciously engulfs your entire body.

The words that had once died in your throat, quickly resurrect and force their way out of your mouth.

You find your voice again. However, this time, it is nothing but cold and bitter.

“Lee Jeno, I love you. I’m not ashamed to say that I’m still hopelessly in love with you, because I am. But you aren’t. And that’s why I let you go.”

The floodgates were finally opened. There was no going back.

“As much as I still loved you, and as much as it killed me to accept that you didn’t return those feelings for me anymore; I let you go. Want to know why? Because your happiness means so much more than my own. I let you go because I love you so fucking much.”

Jeno stares at you with wide eyes, unable to summon a statement that could somehow ease the pain in you eyes. “I-“

“No, listen!!” Your voice begins break, unable to keep your emotions at bay. The words flow out of your mouth quicker than your mind could process. “I wanted to blame you. I wanted to hate you and resent you so badly for everything you put me through, but I couldnt. Because I still fucking love you!!”

The last statement leaves your throat raw. But you persist.

“You really got some nerve, Lee Jeno.” You laugh humorlessly at the pure audacity, before turning back to him with a renewed flame.

“You left me absolutely shattered. And I couldn’t even hate you for it. I refuse to let you hurt me again. I refuse to watch, as the love for me floods out of your eyes again. I REFUSE!!!”

Every last bit of your energy is wasted on your final words as you scream them at the top of your lungs.

The angry tears streaming out of your eyes seem endless. Your whole body trembles with pure fury as you collapse to the floor, legs giving out beneath you.

Jeno instinctively scrambles to your side, supporting your fragile form with his own.

Too weak to fight against his hold, you allow yourself to be braced by him; the touch being all too familiar for your liking.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” You purposely avoid his gaze as you ask, your voice impossibly faint. You’re left completely exhausted; the anger quickly transforming into pure defeat.

There’s a moment of hesitancy. You feel the sharp intake of breath that he takes before the reply is given.

.

“I... love you.”

.

Those three words that you once adored, and now despised... Those three words that had eased all your pain, but now caused your suffering...

Those three words... were no longer hollow.

.

He meant it again.

.

A chill swiftly travels down from the top of your spine to the tip of your toes, leaving you senseless.

He promptly proceeds; the hesitancy in his tone now replaced with a new-found determination.

“I love you. And not because I have to, but because I want to.” Cold fingers gently grip your chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze. “Loving you is not merely a spark. Loving you is not lust or simple desire. Loving you is a commitment. I want to wake up every day, and choose to love you.”

There’s another moment of silence; tears of regret traveling down to drip from the point of his chin.

“I’m so sorry for... everything.” He chokes back a sob as the words get caught in his throat. “I loathe myself for being the cause of all this. I will never forgive myself for hurting you and... and I completely understand if you aren’t willing to forgive me either-“

Before he could finish, you crash your lips onto his; successfully silencing his statement. Tears continue to descend both your guys’ cheeks, unable to subside from the overwhelming sense of comfort that came with being in the others’ warmth again.

You sense a familiar arm snake around your waist, pulling you deeper into the contact. Your own arms loop around his neck, absorbing the touch that you had longed for, so intensely.

You pull away from the kiss, coming face to face with the love of your life.

.

“You have no idea how much I missed feeling those words.” The sentence is muttered, speaking to yourself more than anyone else.

But he heard them nonetheless.

.

You feel his slender fingers encase either side of your face, his cool touch sending a wave of shock throughout your body. Keeping your face steady in his hands, he slowly leans his forehead against yours.

With his eyes closed and without a single waver in his voice, the words slip out again.

.

“I love you.”

.

You soak up the comfort that alluded from such simplicity.

You know that you guys aren’t perfect. Nowhere near it.

But what mattered, was that you were in each other’s hold again.

.

.

Because you loved each other...

.

.

And you meant it.

end.

[birdhouse-of-shadows]

Hello everyone! So here is a fic that I left in my askbox for a hot minute lol. This was all submitted by an anon who you may or may not have seen a few times. This is a compilation of all of the asks and the whole story.

My comments will be in green, any notes from the author will be in blue and the rest will be in the normal text color.

PLEAAASEE be careful if you are sensitive to the following subjects:

Tw: Child Abuse, torture, multiple abusive foster homes, bondage(kinda, quirk inhibiting cuffs), Heavy injury, blood, smoking,

im currently running on no sleep and a bottle of pepsi, sour this is sloppy asf I apologize in advance 😗

im in an angst mood, so i come with this.

Tokoyami’s biological parents abandoned him when he was four. To this day he has no idea why, and has very little memory of them. All of his memories take place in one of the seven abusive foster homes he lived in before he entered U.A.. Over the course of that time, Fumikage has accumulated a large variety of scars, from deep, jagged scars, to cigarette burns, to just really, really bad bruises. Out of all the foster homes he’s been in, none of Fumikage’s foster parents have been fond of mutants, or mutant-type quirks. In several of the foster homes, Fumikage was forced to wear quirk suppressant cuffs 24/7, since his parents “didn’t want a monster running rampant in their house.” Between his mutation, and the violent tendencies of Dark Shadow, Fumikage was basically what nobody wanted in a child. His foster parents would yell every possible derogatory insult at Fumikage, saying he should’ve never been born, even though they weren’t even his real parents. Over time, the verbal abuse would mess with Fumikage’s mind. He’d stare at himself in the mirror, wondering why he was born the way he was, and why he’s the monster everyone says he is. And just when he thought the verbal abuse couldn’t get any worse, as he got older, his foster parents would resort to physical punishment. At first, it wasn’t that bad, at least, in Fumikage’s eyes. Just a slap here and there, plus some cigarette burns on his arms and shoulders. It was painful, but he fought through it, knowing no one would come to help him. But over time, the “discipline” would get even more brutal. It doesn’t matter what he did, every little thing seemed to set his parents off. From accidentally breaking something, to giving a snide comment unannounced, it wasn’t often that Fumikage went to bed at night without being beaten sometime before then. He would be pinned down by his throat and violently beaten with whatever blunt object was nearby. He eventually gave up trying to apologize, as it somehow only upset his parents even more. Once, when he was eleven years old, Fumikage was beaten with a glass vase after pushing one of his foster siblings. The glass eventually shattered, and the broken ends of the vase dug into Fumikage’s back, leaving horrible, jagged cuts all over him. Witnessing Fumikage being beaten day after day made Dark Shadow feel overwhelmingly guilty. Fumikage was in quirk suppressant cuffs ninety percent of the time, so Dark Shadow was pretty much helpless in most situations. Those damned cuffs made it feel like an invisible wall was put up between where Dark Shadow resided, and the outside world. A wall that agonizingly sat between Dark Shadow, and Fumikage’s safety. There were nights when Fumikage lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, his body numbed by pain. Whether he was laying in a bed or not, unfortunately varied by foster home. But it was on those nights where Dark Shadow would apologize profusely to Fumikage, saying that they’re nothing more than the monster that brought misery to Fumikage’s life. Saying that they’re the reason Fumikage gets beaten so often, and yet do nothing to help him. They vow that once they’re in a safer home, away from their abusers, that they will always protect Fumikage. Always. But by then…Fumikage had already fallen asleep.

Overall, Tokoyami’s home life…was nothing worth smiling about. Thankfully, his time at school was less painful. He often got comments about his looks, saying that he was ugly and all that, but by then, he was more than used to it. Eventually, he faded into the shadows (no pun intended) at most of his schools. He eventually was just forgotten about, which truthfully, didn’t bother him. It was a bit lonely, sure, but it was much better than constantly being beaten simply for existing. In Fumikage’s eyes, school was just a break from his disastrous home life. Though, he tended not to talk during class, and had very little interaction with his teachers, for…reasons. Even so, it was actually during his first year of middle school where Fumikage discovered his dream of being a hero. Just because he was spared from the excessive discrimination of mutants, others happened to be less fortunate. Fumikage would witness how his fellow mutants were treated by others. They had their work stolen, their bags dumped out, over were overall just treated like dirt compared to everyone else. So anytime Tokoyami saw a fellow mutant, or anyone really, being bullied, he’d go and help them, telling them that they don’t deserve to take shit for the way they look, or what their quirk is, and that quirks don’t make villains, it’s how those quirks are used, meaning that the people bullying them are more like villains than they will ever be. With his newfound motivation, Tokoyami decided that he wanted to become a hero to show others that they don’t have to fear who they were born to be, or, as he put it, “To not be daunted by their inner darkness. Instead, to embrace such, and with it, become your best self.” Love that for him honestly. One of the students he helped was a tall, slim girl with a head reminiscent to that of an elephant, her most notable feature being her long trunk that was about the length of her entire upper body. She was shy, and avoided any sort of conflict like the plague. At one point she was harassed by another group of girls, before Tokoyami came and stopped them. He gave his long winded, motivational speech to her, and saying she was grateful was quite the understatement, and the next day, as a thank-you gift, gave Tokoyami a red choker, saying that it was just like the one Dark Crystal wore, knowing how much Tokoyami admired the hero. (In other words, he never shut up about him) Tokoyami relayed his gratitude countless times to her, and the two agreed to become friends, even though they wouldn’t see eachother often. Reluctantly, the girl also pointed out the horrible scars and bruises on Tokoyami’s neck, and figured that he’d want to cover them. Tokoyami stiffened at the mention of his scars, but continued thanking her anyway. The two often saw eachother in the halls and waved at one another, on friendly terms, but strangely enough, they never spoke again.

It was also around that time that he became more interactive with Dark Shadow, and began to explore more darker concepts. He founded a love for reading, specifically horror novels and manga. He also became fascinated with poetry (specifically the edgy variety), both reading and writing it. He found that writing poetry gave him an outlet for expressing both himself, and Dark Shadow’s feelings, without having to risk angering his foster parents. Eventually, the tone found written by his favorite poets began to make its way into Fumikage’s speech patterns. He felt more comfortable with it, and it wasn’t something people easily understood, which ultimately meant his foster parents would just ignore him, thinking he was going through an emo phase. And miraculously, it worked. Although he was still physically and verbally abused throughout his middle school years, his foster parents eventually backed off, as Fumikage became more introverted. Now, he’d look in the mirror at all of his scars, and use his past trauma as motivation for becoming a hero. Though, it wasn’t easy. Those painful memories would always come flooding back whenever he looked at those scars. Since he spent most of his life surrounded by abusive adults, he believed that most adults were the same way, and refrained from speaking with adults at all, in fear of angering them. Hearing them yell would make him flinch out of pure instinct, and being stuck alone with an adult would make him an anxious mess. But he did his best to mask this fear with the brooding, edgy side of him. It was his best, and pretty much only way of coping with this fear. He tried his best to overcome his anxiety, but it was never that easy. But he managed to get through middle school mostly unscathed.

And finally, after three agonizingly long paragraphs, Fumikage makes it into U.A.. Of course, that didn’t exempt him from any of his current foster parent’s rules. He had to keep quirk cuffs in his bag at all times, and if he came home without them on, he would be beaten. Tokoyami remained obedient, not wanting to show up to his first day at U.A. beaten half to death. Armed with his scars, his motivation, and of course, Dark Shadow, Tokoyami entered U.A with confidence. And everyone… was so nice???? Almost immediately after he sat in his designated seat in class 1-A, people came up to him, talking to him. He met a variety of different students, some more…mellow than others. But overall, he liked his class. But the teacher? Well…not so much. In Tokoyami’s eyes, the man who dubbed himself their homeroom teacher, Mr. Aizawa, was completely and utterly terrifying. ‘He probably has a machete hidden in that sleeping bag ready to kill us at any moment-‘ Dark Shadow said on the first day. Tokoyami couldn’t help but agree. But not in a comedic way. Something about Aizawa was all too reminiscent of one of his foster fathers, specifically the one who gave him all of the scars on his back, after beating him with a glass vase. Any time he was around him, he was anxious. But eventually, little did Fumikage know, this man who he deemed “terrifying” would eventually become one of the people he trusted the most.

okay okay I’ll stop for now, I’ll write more eventually, but I’ll wait until this is answered so I won’t be flooding your asks, and I promise I will never submit anything this long ever again 😖

part 2 yee yee

also, as you can tell, i have heavily observed canon, and elected to ignore it :)

Fumikage’s year so far was hectic. No, scratch that. It was hellish. It seemed like everywhere the class went together, they were attacked by villains. Aizawa seemed to be getting more and more tired by the day. Fumikage didn’t blame him, as he had a class full of trouble magnets. But following the skirmish at the forest training camp, and All Might’s retirement, things seemed to be looking up, at least a little bit. However, there was rumor going around that U.A. was planning to implement a form system, leaving Fumikage with mixed feelings. One on hand, he was ecstatic. He could finally, even if it was just for a short time, get away from his foster home. The training camp incident left Fumikage shaken more than he’d like, and having to deal with verbal abuse at the hands of his father wasn’t doing him any favors. After being released from the hospital, his father berated him four what felt like hours after hearing that he’d lost control of Dark Shadow. The day he got home, without any second thought, his father grabbed him by his shirt collar (which hurt more than it should have due to the fresh bruises on Fumikage’s back) and mercilessly screamed at him. Even though it only lasted about ten minutes, it felt like forever. He was forced to stand just inches away from his father, the thick smell of cigarette smoke emitting from his breath. Dark Shadow shrunk within him, trying desperately to drown out the heinous comments that they’re directly responsible for. Following the “lecture”, as his father like to call it, Fumikage was put back into his quirk cuffs, but this time, as what his parents described as a “precaution”, he had a thick, tight quirk suppressant collar locked around his neck. It dug through Fumikage’s skin, and it felt like he was being strangled. Even so, just like everything he’d been through up to that point, he had to bear with it. He tiredly trudged back to his room, or, well, it was a linen closet. He had a small pile of blankets that acted as his bed, as well as several books lined up neatly against the wall. He’d read most of them several times already, but other that his phone, it was pretty much his only source of entertainment. The closet was always freezing, and he was rarely allowed out. But Fumikage always forced himself to be grateful for having a roof over his head at all, since he knew there were always going to be people who were less fortunate. With a sigh, he lay down on his small pile of blankets. He curled up within himself, trying his best to keep warm. Normally, one of his siblings slip whatever packaged food their parents gave them under the door. It always tasted like it went bad two weeks ago, but at this point, to Fumikage, fuck it, food was food. But much to his dismay, Fumikage’s parents told him that he was “on punishment”. And while on punishment, he knew well enough, that they refuse to feed him. Over the last 18 months that he’d been living in that foster home, he’d been on punishment five times, and during that time, he lost a very unhealthy amount of weight, and his overall health tanked. But, like he said for every terrible thing that’s befallen him over the past 12 years, he was used to it. So, Fumikage went the next three days without eating a single thing.

But it was after those three days, when Fumikage’s life changed. Whether it was for better or worse, he was forced to wait and see.

One morning, or…was it evening? It was hard to tell when you’re stuck in a dark linen closet with no sense of time whatsoever. But anyway, Fumikage woke up shivering, not that he wasn’t used to that. But he did hear the faint sound of his parents talking. However, there was one other voice. Fumikage’s hearing wasn’t the best, with him being a bird and everything, but he knew that voice. He knew that voice from anywhere. It was Aizawa’s. Fumikage forced himself up. His back was stiff, and the thick collar around his neck weighed him down. His stomach was begging for food, but that wasn’t important. He smoothed out his feathers best he could, and quietly opened the closet door. He could hear Aizawa conversing with his parents, and they talked about the newly constructed dorms. Aizawa explained that for the Fumikage’s safety, he requested that Fumikage lives in a secure dorm system. He’d have his own room, full access to a kitchen full of food, and of course, he’d have a common space to mingle with his peers. To Fumikage, it sounded like heaven, but unfortunately, his parents weren’t having it. They went on and on about how Fumikage would put his peers in danger with his destructive quirk. Aizawa, thankfully, wasn’t willing to put up with them either. He went on to tell them about how Fumikage has excelled with the control of Dark Shadow. Fumikage felt a warm feeling in his stomach after hearing his teacher, that same one he’s so afraid of, speak so highly of him. But there was one thing that left Aizawa’s mouth that his parents really couldn’t respond to. “Well, why not let Fumikage have a say in this? Where is he?” he asked them. There was something about his teacher’s tone that showed that he knew exactly what he was doing. Fumikage looked down at himself. He was still wearing the same black long sleeved shirt and blue jeans that he’d worn three days ago. His quirk cuffs were tight around his wrists, and his collar, though he’d gotten used to the feeling, was madly uncomfortable around his neck. He had two choices. Go down there and let Aizawa witness firsthand the extent of Fumikage’s constant neglect, and risk being punished even further by his parents, or play it safe, and potentially let Aizawa find him on his own. But…the world was never that nice to him, so instead, Fumikage heard an irritated sigh, and footsteps coming up the stairs. Hurriedly, Fumikage shut the closet door and sat back down against the wall. Just moments later, he watched the closet door open, and felt his father’s sultry gaze fall on him. He grabbed his arm and pulled him up to his feet. He took the cuffs off of Fumikage, and let them fall to the floor. Before taking off the collar, he leaned down, glaring daggers at his foster son. “You say anything out of place boy, and I reopen those cuts on your back, god help you.” he said in a low growl. Fumikage stiffened, the memory of jagged glass tearing his skin open flashing through his mind. He nodded, and took a breath of air as the collar was removed. He really didn’t care that all he breathed in was cigarette smoke. That feeling of being strangled by a metal collar was finally gone, even if just for a little while. His father grabbed his wrist, and dragged him down to the living room, where Aizawa sat across from his mother.

Aizawa knew right away that there was something seriously off. Tokoyami had a few feathers out of place, and his shirt hung limply over him. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in a week. But what pisses Aizawa off the most, was something Tokoyami was clearly trying to hide, and that was the dark ring of bruises around his wrists. He really needed to confront his student about how these two were treating him. But for now, he just needed to get the kid to agree to move into the dorms. He watched the avian teen sit down between his two caretakers. The boy looked very uncomfortable, almost afraid. Aizawa felt his gaze soften upon seeing his student in the state he was, but he had to do what he came here for. So he directed his gaze to Tokoyami, and asked him his thought of moving into U.A.’s dorms. It concerned him hearing how fast Tokoyami answered. “I’d be glad to.” He responded almost instantly. “It would be a great opportunity to get to know my peers better, no?” He looked to his mother, who gave him an irritated look. Aizawa held back a smirk. The kid had a way with words, that was for sure. Aizawa cleared his throat, and spoke up. “Well, it seems he’s all for it.” he said, looking at the two adults in front of him. They looked very unamused. The boy’s mother rubbed her temples, and sighed. “Fine, fine.” she grumbled. “But if Fumikage has any issues with behavior whatsoever, so let us know.” She said, giving her son a pointed look. Aizawa nodded, and stood up. “I doubt that will be an issue, he’s very well behaved.” he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes fell to his student. He once again noticed the loose feathers sticking out from the sides of the boy’s head. There were only about two or three, but Aizawa took the initiative anyway. He leaned down toward Tokoyami, and smoothed out his feathers carefully. The boy stiffened, but relaxed. Once Aizawa was satisfied, he stood back up. Tokoyami brought a hand to the side of his head, and gave Aizawa a dumbfounded look. The man gave him an amused look, and turned around toward the door. “I’ll see you in a few days, Tokoyami.” he said, laying his hand on the doorknob. The teen nodded in response, and Aizawa left the house.

As soon as he shut the door, Aizawa clenched his fists. Of course he noticed Tokoyami’s disheveled-looking appearance. But there was one thing, one tiny little thing, that Tokoyami did. Since the moment he sat down, to the moment Aizawa left. Tokoyami rested one arm on his leg, and began tapping his knee. Aizawa didn’t think much of it at first, but then he remembered something he learned while he was still in training. Whenever someone did that, no matter the age, it was a warning sign. Tokoyami was trying to get his attention the entire time.

There was something seriously wrong.

And that’s it for part two I suppose. I feel like this part is significantly worse than the last one, but when it comes down to it, consistency isn’t my thing 🙃

i forgot to proofread part two before submitting it so uh….if there are typos to there aren’t <3

Its perfectly fine!! I never saw them~

part 3 let’s goooo

After Aizawa left, Fumikage relaxed his hand over his knee. He really hoped his teacher noticed his warning sign, but whether he did or not, he was still stuck with his parents until he moved into the dorms. A sudden wave of unease fell over him. He knew his parents were staring him down. And he knew they were not happy. He took at deep breath, and met his father’s gaze. The man’s eyes narrowed. “You got somethin’ to say, brat?” he spat through gritted teeth. Fumikage shrugged. He knew he wouldn’t be living with his foster parents for much longer, which made pushing their buttons much more tempting. He held back a smirk. “Me? Oh no. Although, judging by that look on your face, I figured you’d have something to say, no?” the teen hummed. He rested his elbows on his knees, and tilted his head. Fumikage watched his father’s eyelid twitch. It was quite amusing, really. “Just get your ass upstairs, brat. I don’t want another goddamn word outta you.” The man hissed. “And put your cuffs on too.” Fumikage let out a sigh, but nodded anyway. He’d best be obedient now, since, if possible, he’d like to make it to U.A.’s dorms in one piece. He stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets, before trudging back upstairs to his “room”.

After closing the closet door, Fumikage took another look at the cramped area he’s forced to call his bedroom. For the last eighteen months, he was stuck in this hellhole of a house. He had felt more alone than any other point in his life, even with Dark Shadow around. He had no freedom in this house. Hell, he can hardly think of a time he’s ever had any freedom throughout his life. He’s been chained down, locked in cages like an animal, abused in pretty much every way possible…he hated it. More than anything. For most of his early life, it was hard for him to tell if Dark Shadow was really his quirk, or just a voice in his head, given how rarely the two would be allowed to see eachother. But to Fumikage, quirk or not, Dark Shadow was his closest friend. His only friend. And the idea of them getting an entire room, bed and all, just to themselves, with no restrictions, made Fumikage feel more excited than he had ever felt before. Fumikage put a hand to his chest, letting out a relieved sigh, and couldn’t help but smile. Even if it was just for a little while, he, alone with Dark Shadow, could finally be free.

While he was lost in his thoughts, Fumikage’s eyes eventually fell to his quirk cuffs, laying menacingly on the pile of blankets before him, his collar just a few inches away. He felt Dark Shadow stir restlessly within him, not wanting to be trapped by the cuffs. Even though Dark Shadow never got the chance to come out while they were off, it felt liberating to not be bound by what was, in the long run, thick pieces of metal. They’d felt more relaxed for those tense twenty minutes during the conference then they had been throughout their entire time living there. But they knew, for Fumikage’s safety, that, at least until they moved into the dorms, that the cuffs had to stay on. With a sigh, Fumikage grabbed the cuffs, and, after lining them up with his already existing bruises, snapped them shut. Dark Shadow felt like chains held them back the second the cuffs came on. They let out an agitated whimper deep within Fumikage. The teen sighed, bringing a hand to his chest. He hated when his quirk felt like this, but he knew it would all be over soon. He picked up the collar, feeling the cold metal in his hands. With a huff, he threw it aside, and sat down against the wall. He looked up at the ceiling, and reached deep within himself. It was faint, but he managed to connect with Dark Shadow. “Just a few more days, Dark Shadow…” he whispered. “It’ll all be over soon. Not for long, but…things will lighten up. I promise.” That promise was a bit of a stretch, in Fumikage’s opinion. But it would be that promise that got them through the next few days. Fumikage laid down on his “bed”, and reached for one of his books. He didn’t care which one, since he’d read them all about a million times each, but he just needed a distraction. The book he’d ended up grabbing, he knew was more philosophical than he would’ve preferred, but hey, he wanted a distraction. So he opened the book, and proceeded to read.

Fumikage had gotten about 90 pages in before he heard the lock on the closet door rattle. The door swung open, letting a wave of light into the room. Fumikage looked up from his book, and low and behold, his father stood over him, an angry look on his face, as always. “Can I help you?” Fumikage asked, laying the book down on his lap. The man in front of him snorted. “Get up, brat. It’s bath time.” he said, an amused tone in his voice. If he could, Fumikage would’ve raised a brow. That tone in his father’s voice was never a good sign, but Fumikage didn’t have much of a choice. So he laid the book aside, and stood up. His father grabbed his wrist, and dragged him out of the closet. Fumikage had no idea what his father meant by “bath time”, but as the two walked directly passed the bathroom, Fumikage knew, that his parents had something else in mind…

and that’s it for part 3. i never actually have a set plan for these, i just go until I feel like stopping. These also aren’t written beforehand, I just chill in your asks for an hours writing these, making things up as I go along. I basically treat it like my notes app lmao

I'm glad my ask box has served well as your notes app! Just be careful that things save!!

part 4. this was so fucking hard to write you don’t understand 😭 and im too tired to proofread this shit so if you see typos no you don’t. enjoy.

You're doing great!!

Trapped within his father’s grip, Fumikage nearly tripped as he was dragged down the stairs. Being dragged around like a rag doll was uncomfortable enough already, but having thick quirk cuffs clamped around his wrists, digging into his skin, made the whole ordeal more painful rather than uncomfortable, but either way, whatever his parents had in store for him, like always, Fumikage wasn’t looking forward to.

Before Fumikage knew it, the two were in the kitchen. A metal bucket sat in the kitchen sink, hot water running into it. Next to the sink stood his mother, a sultry grin on her face. Thick clouds of steam rose from the basin, and suddenly it hit him. Fumikage’s breath hitched, and he froze in place. He stumbled back, pressing himself against the wall behind him. His father let out a low chuckle. “What’s the matter brat? You were all smug n’ shit earlier. Where’d all that giddiness go?” He asked, leaning toward Fumikage. The man gave a sultry grin, blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke into Fumikage’s face.

Fumikage’s eyes fell to his mother, who had her hand laid against the bucket. The painful reality all started coming together. Much quicker than Fumikage would’ve preferred, given that he’s on the receiving end of yet another one of his parent’s grueling “punishments”. His mother had a heat quirk. Not fire, but heat. She could alter the heat of any object she touches, reaching heats of up to 315 degrees celcius. Fumikage has been burned before. Several times actually. It hurt like hell, but nothing he’d ever felt before compared to the searing, agonizing pain of being touched by anything heated by his mother’s quirk. And here he was, backed into a corner, at his parent’s mercy.

He knew what was coming. As much as he hated what was about to come next, there was no getting out of it. Not with both of his parents right in front of him. As Fumikage watched that bucket of water begin to boil over, and his mother’s grin grow wider. he felt Dark Shadow begin to tremble within him, helplessly. He could feel his hands begin to shake, and without even having to look, he could hear his father chuckle in amusement.

Fumikage clenched his fists. He couldn’t just submit himself to his parents so easily. But then again, at the end of the day, he was helpless. As always. There was no escape, because when has there ever been? Fighting back was pointless. It always has been. Because to him, this wasn’t torture. This wasn’t abuse. To him, this was just another punishment. Another, grueling, agonizing, painful, god-forsaken punishment.

He was used to this.

Fumikage felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He looked up at his father. What was this sudden burst of emotion? Fumikage had never felt like this before. Was it anger? Fear? Whatever it was, it made his head spin. Either way, he planned to use his sudden rush of negative energy for something he should’ve done months ago. And the consequences that came with it?

Fuck the consequences.

A twisted, pained smile forced it’s way to Fumikage’s features. Tears rolling down his cheeks, he locked eyes with his father. “Sick bastard.” he muttered. “You know I’ll be out of this hellhole in two days, so you take every opportunity you have to put me in as much pain as possible.” Fumikage wiped a tear from his eyes with his sleeve. “Sounds like you’re getting desperate, wouldn’t you agree?” Fumikage grinned upon seeing that irritated look wash over his father’s face. Oh, how much he loved that look.

Over the years that Fumikage has been in foster care, he was never liked by this parents. They blamed it on his violent quirk. Funny enough, almost none of them had even seen his quirk. Fumikage never got around to asking about that, since a lot of the time, talking ended up getting him in trouble. Looking back on it, Fumikage realizes just how stupid it was. Talking, of all things, got him in trouble. What was next? Breathing?

And this foster home was no different. If he “talked out of place”, as his father liked to put it, he was punished. It was hard to decipher exactly what was considered talking “out of place”, since it seemed like nearly everything Fumikage said warranted punishment. So eventually, he opted not to speak at all. But there were always those times, now included, where talking back just felt so right. When Fumikage is finally able to stand up for himself, despite the inevitable consequences that came with it.

And boy, were there consequences.

Before he knew it, Fumikage’s head was slammed against the wall behind him, beak first. With how sensitive his beak was, that pain rung throughout his brain, dazing him. Then he was kneed in the stomach, three times actually, right on one of his fresh bruises. Fumikage let out a choked sob as his breath left him. Even if it only lasted seconds, Fumikage felt as though he were suffocating. And as much as he hated the feeling of air leaving him, that just so happened to be the least painful thing he experienced that night.

Through his pain, Fumikage caught a glimpse of something shiny. Because of course he would. It looked to be metal, with a sharp tip. In his dazed state, he could only guess that it was his Father’s six-inch knife. And right he was, because that exact knife tore down the back of his shirt, exposing all of the scars that littered his back. Pinning him against the wall, his father ripped off his shirt, before kicking him to the cold hardwood floors. Just as Fumikage attempted to sit up, he felt another hard kick to the back of his head. The teen brought his hands to his head almost immediately, gripping tightly at his feathers in an attempt to ease his head’s throbbing pain. But at that moment, Fumikage realized, he had let his guard down.

Just seconds later, he felt it.

That agonizing, searing pain.

All over his body.

He let out a gut-wrenching scream as he felt blisters rapidly forming all over his back and arms. He found himself clawing at his arms, in a desperate attempt to ease the stinging pain, only for thin, deep cuts to form on his pale skin. He felt his quirk cuffs reacted to the heat, getting ever more tighter around Fumikage’s thin wrists. Any and all obscenities his parents threw at him were drowned out by this unbearable pain. Through his sobs, Fumikage began to wonder, was it really worth it? Was it ever worth it? He almost didn’t care. He just wanted it all to be over.

He just wanted the pain, the suffering, the torture, all of it, he just wanted it to go away.

Once the pain died down to the point where it was at least bearable, Fumikage forced himself up on his hands and knees, struggling to keep himself stable on the wet hardwood. Between both the burns, and the quirk cuffs nearly suffocating his wrists, his hands were blistered and swollen. Fumikage locked eyes with his father, who looked down at him, satisfied with his work. Fumikage’s breathing was slow and heavy, as he tried to fight through the pain. “Is…is that all you got?” he managed to choke out. “Two kicks and some hot water? Is that your last line of defense? Seems pretty lackluster if you ask me.” His entire body trembling, Fumikage managed to get to his feet. Steam emitted from his entire upper body, and he was throbbing with pain. That satisfied look on his father’s face suddenly turned to one of pure rage. Without a word, the man walked toward Fumikage, his knife in one hand, and empty glass bottle in the other. Pressing any further in this situation, with this many injuries, Fumikage knew, would be incredibly risky. But then again, heroes are supposed to take risks.

Fumikage forced his beak back into that same twisted grin he wore before, but this time, it was more reluctant. Either way, there was no turning back now.

“Bite me.” he muttered through gritted teeth.

It went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. But that silence was short lived.

Fumikage heard the deafening sound of glass shattering. There was a sudden flash of bright light, leaving as quick as it arrived, and Fumikage’s world became black.

i dont plan on writing any more violent scenes, simply because they’re hard asf to write lmao, so the next part is basically an unneeded time skip because im lazy <3

I'm sure whatever you will write will be perfect!!!

part 5 bitches. or is this part 6? idk this feels like a part 6. anyway proofreading is out the window, it was a long time ago, but either way this might look at but messy. fuck it it’s 3am idc anymore. enjoy.

Fumikage’s eyes opened. His eyelids felt heavy, and his back was stiff, but other than that…he felt no pain. He sat up and looked around. He wasn’t in the linen closet. In fact, it didn’t look like he was in his foster home at all. He looked to be in an apartment. It was on the small side, but it felt…comfortable. The furniture wasn’t dusty, and the air was free of cigarette smoke. Beneath him, was a dark grey couch. He had to have been sleeping on it for a while, as he had shed a single feather onto the fabric of the couch. But either way, Fumikage somehow felt…safe.

Then, he caught something from the corner of his eye. Well, not something, rather, someone. A tall figure, their face and body obscured by shadow, stood in the doorway to the kitchen. The figure began to walk toward him. Their hands were tucked into their pockets, and they stalked toward him, almost tiredly. It felt so…familiar. But Fumikage’s world felt fuzzy. It was hard to tell if what he was seeing was even real. The figure kneeled down in front of him their obscured face looking him in the eyes. He watched their lips move, but there was no sound. Fumikage wanted to speak, but all he heard was his own confused, stuttered breathing.

The figure tilted their head, and their eyebrows furrowed. They reached a hand behind Fumikage’s head, ruffling his crown feathers gently. The figure spoke again, yet Fumikage was still met with silence. The figure’s face, as far as Fumikage could see, was painted with concern. But before Fumikage could make another attempt to speak, another figure appeared from a hallway. They were taller, slimmer, and just like the first one, their body and face was completely obscured. The second figure came over, kneeling next to the first, trying to get Fumikage to say something. Anything. But the world around him was completely silent.

Fumikage felt his vision blur at the edges. What was happening? Who were the people in front of him? Why did they look so worried? His mind was runny by a mile a minute, not knowing where he was, who he was with, and why any of them were there. Fumikage looked around desperately for anything that could pose as a distraction. In the midst of his panic, he saw one of the figure’s shadowy hands reach toward him. Fumikage swatted at the hand and tried to back away, but instead was blocked by the back of the couch. His gaze went back toward the two figures in front of him. Once again, one of them reached toward him, carefully grabbing his arm. The touch felt cold, and staticky, much like how Dark Shadow felt. Fumikage squeezed his eyes shut, and he felt tears run down his cheeks, afraid of what’s to come next. But, much to his surprise, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, holding him tight. Through the haze, Fumikage could finally make out what this person was saying. It was a faint, hollow echo that rang through his ears. “It’s okay, kid. You’re safe.” They said.

Fumikage’s breathing slowed as he lay his head on the figure’s shadowy shoulder. “I’m…safe…” he repeated, almost hypnotically. Then he heard the second figure join in. “That’s right. You don’t have to be scared anymore. You’re in a new home, with a new family.” they said. Their voice was slightly higher, and had a softer tone to it. But those words…

Fumikage lifted his head slightly, just enough to see over the figure’s shoulder. His vision was hazy, and he felt as though he were in a trance.

“Family…” Fumikage whispered. That word…that word alone. ‘Family’. It just felt so…right. As though what Fumikage saw as paradise was finally coming to pass. He felt tears well up in his eyes. But unlike before, he felt tears of relief. For the first time in what felt like years, he really felt safe. Fumikage lifted an arm, and whipped away his tears with his sleeve. When his vision cleared, yet another figure appeared. However, this one was…small. Then Fumikage realized, it was a child. His head tilted as the obscure figure carefully walked over to him. They kept their hands in front of them, almost as if afraid to hurt him. Although Fumikage had relaxed, he still felt dazed, and somehow, his movements almost didn’t feel like his own.

Just like when he reached his arm out toward the child. They were just barely out of reach, but in response, they brought both hands to Fumikage’s, and a smile came to their obscured face. They looked…happy. And for the first time in what Fumikage felt like forever…so did he. He felt a small smile form on his beak. He hated kids. Normally, anyway. But right now…this wasn’t so bad.

He felt the older figure pull away from him, still carefully running their hand through his feathers. The second also leaned back, relaxing a bit. Fumikage lay back against the couch with a sigh, before looking over the three figure’s one last time. Was this really his family…? Hell, whether they were or not, he could get used to it. He just couldn’t help it. After years of pain, years of terror, a family, a kind, loving family, was what Fumikage had always dreamed of.

He eventually felt his eyelids, as well as his whole body, become heavy. He felt his grip on consciousness slowly slip, the world around him slowly swirling into a dark grey void. That same word echoed through his mind throughout, becoming more faint each time he heard it. Family. family….family….

Fumikage’s eyes slowly opened one last time, but this time, he didn’t just feel tired. He felt cold, he felt sore, but above all…he felt uneasy. That cold, painfully familiar feeling washed over him. And painful it was. The second he dared to move, Fumikage felt a sharp pain up his back. He sighed, letting his body relax. He looked up at the ceiling, but couldn’t stop the tears from forming in his eyes.

He was home.

and that’s it. i feel like i use too many commas, but fuck it im sleep deprived i do what i want :D anyway the next part will be done…whenever the fuck i feel like writing it idk lmao

Please sleep, you're doing great!! I too suffer from overuse of commas, but I don't think they hurt too much!!

sigh. part 7. maybe. idgaf anymore lmao

toward the end I pretty much forgot how to write, so this is uh, a mess to say the least. but enjoy I guess? yea

Fumikage slowly sat up, and let his hands fall solemnly in his lap. With his level of pain and exhaustion, it was hard to keep himself stable, and his quirk cuffs acting as six-pound weights wasn’t doing him any favors. Which, now that he noticed, wasn’t the only thing Fumikage was wearing. He felt his quirk collar clamped around his neck, even tighter than before. He was surprised that it hasn’t cut off his airflow by now.

Fumikage brushed off the pain, still in awe by his dream. As abstract as it was, it just felt so…real. Everything around him felt as though it were really there. And those shadow figures….he felt their words, their touch…as strange as it was, it just felt right. Fumikage leaned back against the wall behind him. ‘Dark Shadow…’ he whispered. ‘Did you…feel that? In the dream?’ Within him, Dark Shadow stirred restlessly in response to their host’s bewilderment. ‘Mhm…but…Fumikage? Would it be weird to say I…miss it?’ they asked. That restlessness quickly turned solemn as Dark Shadow deflated a bit, wrapping themself protectively around Fumikage’s rib cage. The teen hummed quietly to himself in thought. ‘Well, as weird as it is, you aren’t alone. I don’t know why but…that dream world just felt so surreal. It was…at least compared to what we’re used to, amazing.’ Fumikage replied. He lay his head against the wall behind him as he felt tears in the back of his eyes. Dark Shadow seemed to mimic his movements in a way, as Fumikage felt them curl within themselves, hugging Fumikage’s ribs tighter. ‘I just want a new family…’ they said, barely a whisper. Fumikage felt tears slowly roll down his cheeks, soaking his feathers. It feels like every day that passes, Fumikage feels more and more isolated. More and more alone. It’s just him and Dark Shadow. It always has been. Fumikage thrives off of his quirk’s company. Dark Shadow is the only reason he’s kept a positive outlook on life throughout his last few painful years. If not for Dark Shadow, Fumikage’s life would have ended long ago. But even with Dark Shadow around, Fumikage couldn’t help but feel lonely. He wanted someone else to talk to. A human to talk to, because let’s face it, Fumikage’s social skills are…underwhelming. He never speaks unless he knows exactly what he’s going to say and when. He comes off more confident that way, because otherwise, he’d let his anxiety get the best of him.

Having a kind, caring family around, and having other people in general around, just made Fumikage feel safer. Even his foster siblings. They all despised him, but when they were around, his parents were less violent with him. There was always less expected of him when there were others around to steal all of the attention. But that didn’t mean Fumikage didn’t want attention, he just didn’t want negative attention. And every foster home he’s been in, year after year, has been exactly that.

He just wanted to feel loved, was that so much to ask?

Fumikage slouched back against the wall, only to quickly regret it as he felt a sharp pain shoot up his side. He sat back up with a groan. What exactly happened to him? He knows he blacked out at some point, but it was hard to tell what happened after. His body was numbed with pain; his back and arms were covered in burns that sting when touched, and he had a large, dark bruise right in the middle of his abdomen.

His memory of the previous night was cloudy, among other things, but he does faintly remember that sharp glint coming from his father’s knife. Fumikage put a hand to the source of the pain, feeling around for anything of interest. The closet was nearly pitch black, and as good as Fumikage was at seeing in the dark, he couldn’t do much other than carefully feel his wounds to make sure there isn’t anything too serious. But at this point, getting out of a punishment unscathed would be a miracle.

Fumikage ran his fingers across what felt like a gash along the side of his waist, approximating the length. He winced at the stinging pain, but kept going nonetheless. The wound went from just above his waist halfway up his chest. Pulling away he felt something warm and wet lining his fingers, which he could only assume was blood, given the stinging pain that shot through his body right after.

The teen let out a low groan in response, before wiping his bloody hand on his jeans. Slumping back against the wall, Fumikage looked as his blood stained hand. Even in the dark linen closet, he could still see the dark, smeared blood stain his palm and fingers. Suddenly he felt a surge of negativity rush through him, and he clenched his bloodied fist. Was it disgust? Frustration? Or just pure, justified, rage? It was always so hard, just trying to identify this one, burning, unbearable emotion. Fumikage felt it so often but could never tell what he was really feeling. Dark Shadow growled in reponse to their host, growing increasingly larger, metaphorically, desperately wanting to break free and release this unbearable surge of negativity. It didn’t take long before Fumikage boiled over, and slammed his fist against the wall behind him, causing the paint to crack and a dent to form in the wall. Fumikage looked to the wall next to him, and the result of his outburst. And just like that, he deflated, completely, and utterly, defeated. Defeated from what? It was hard to tell.

The teen choked out a sob, curling up within himself, burying his face in his knees.

Just one more day.

yeah. that’s it. short and painful sweet. no comments, bc i cant think of any. next part coming in uh….idk like a month? who’s to say lmao

I absolutely loved this!! I am so happy you shared this! The writing was phenomenal and this is such an interesting take on Tokoyami’s past. It has the perfect dose of angst~

I hope everyone else enjoys this as much as I did!

[sukiglycerin]

starless fairy tales || keigo takami, katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x reader x katsuki bakugou (gender neutral!)

* genre: it’s a sandwich: angst on the top, fluff in the middle, and angst at the end :) not fantasy DLKFSF IM SORRY

* words: 5.2k, somehow

* warnings: angsty, reader is wary of hawks at first, tokyo skytree!! so don’t read if you’re terribly afraid of heights, a reference to blood for a small metaphor, a reference to the league of villains ;P, cliffhanger ending that i’m not sure i’ll resolve

* original request from @bien-sur: hey, saw you wanted requests and I read through some of your work, really loved the Hawks one shot!! i’m a sucker for enemies who make out. i’m feeling angsty so uh maybe, if you want, a bakugo one-shot where he kind of uh cheats on the reader...? or maybe just hurts her feelings very badly? maybe the reader feels numb for a while but is comforted by Keigo, and the reader realizes they deserve better? so sorry if this is out of your comfort zone or it’s dark content(?) anyways I like your writing so i’ll read a few more of your works before going to bed :)) thank you, i appreciate u taking the time to do requests regardless of whether you do mine :)

* a/n: ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS SUPERIOR!! i was so excited to write an enemies piece with hawks. this showcases the soft, kind side of hawks so i hope you enjoy it !! thank you sooo much for being so kind in your request! this request is completely fine. i added much more plot than i’d expected, and learned sooo much about tokyo skytree. i couldn’t do infidelity because it hurts me too much and i love bakugou too much. i tried to keep the angst.,., but happy birb..,., this might become a multi-chap fic, as i do have a plot jumbled in my head because of the cliffhanger, and i’d like to develop more aspects of your request! for now, it’s up to your interpretation! biggest thing i got out of this: i now really, really want to go to tokyo skytree.

* synopsis: you had a fairy tale love with bakugou until your prince became the villain for vague reasons. in a moment of serendipity, you find a new prince, hawks, who just might take you high enough to reach the stars you’d so longed for. sometimes your dreams are only a train ride and a couple elevator trips away.

love was like a fairy tale. at least, that’s what you’d believed. love, with its ornate leather cover and soft golden embellishments. the pages would be worn but so cherished; the black ink printed in a pretty font, telling of charming words and whispered promises under the shining moonlight and twinkling stars. it was supposed to be your security, a castle hidden in the lush forest away from the horrors of the world. your castle would hold you and bakugou for an eternity, kept away in the pages of a pretty love story. 

alas, even the strongest of castles fall, and the most beautiful of forests mangle. yours just happened to be a bit quicker. contrary to the illusion bakugou had painted in your fairy tale, your castle was not of stone nor brick nor iron. it was not of anything but sand, waiting for its turn to be washed away by the sea. your castle slipped through your fingers; the once elaborate stronghold now swept into the depths of the cerulean sea. what had once been painted seashells of wondrous hues and crystals that illuminated the night were now pebbles and corroded versions of things that had once been. it had slipped through your fingers so easily without a passing thought; now here you were, in your deserted kingdom, playing the fool. 

like the sand past your fingers, love had once come easy for you and bakugou. it was always there, drifting in the air as you walked or swirling above your heads while you bickered. love was supposed to be easy, like how your hand just fit in bakugou's as if sculpted after many lives with him. love was supposed to be easy, like how bakugou aced his tests in school and nonchalantly taught you math so you wouldn't have to attend cram school. love was supposed to be easy, like how it had been for forever with bakugou. but your fairy tale was now coming to a close, velvet curtains falling and pages turning to dust. 

you wondered if there were any fairy tales on the shelves of books bakugou had. contrary to popular belief at ua, bakugou was an avid reader. it was clear by the shelves that lined the wall in his dorm and the stacks of unread books on his nightstand. you never touched them, though bakugou had said you were free to pick them up whenever you wanted. the only time you’d touched a book from his bookshelf was when he pushed a book of yosano akiko’s to you. 

the colored spines of the books on his shelf in your shared apartment all blurred like paint on a palette as you stared at them, bakugou’s voice becoming a fading afterthought.

“y/n? y/n, please…” the voice which had so held you in its tight warmth went cold and unfamiliar. a light flickered out in your castle, and so started the crumbling.

“say…” you started, your throat clogged with disbelief, “it again.”

“please, don’t make me…” his voice trailed off. you could feel his deep scarlet eyes trained on you. “i just…. i’m not in love with you anymore, y/n.” his voice cracked. “you’ve got to understand. please.”

your hand trembled in your lap, your vision shifting out of focus like a faulty camera. 

“i tried to feel something, i really did. but…. i can’t.”

“how- how long?” your voice shook.

he paused. “a month… or two, by now?” he reached out to take your hand in his, but it no longer felt right. it was as if his hand was no longer yours to hold. you tensed, moving your hand away.

a light went out in his eyes as he understood and receded his hand. a tower fell in your castle.

“okay,” you said, turning away from him. tears dripped down your face silently and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve. you stood up from the couch. “i’ll get my things,” you hollowly said, walking toward your shared room with him.

“you don’t need to,” bakugou said. the voice emitted from his throat was no longer his, but the shadow of a stranger’s. “not this fast, at least. don’t force yourself.”

“what makes you say that?” you snapped a bit too harshly. “sorry,” you added quietly.

packing your things was a numbing process. you left the photos of him and you on his nightstand, on top of his pile of unread books. you shoved it all in a backpack you had lying around; your clothes, your phone, your books. you took one last glance around the room and left. bakugou was still sitting on the couch wordlessly, not bothering to say farewell to you as you opened the door and walked out. not that you would’ve responded anyway. 

you realized you may have made a miscalculation as you stood cluelessly in the lobby of the apartment building. you had nowhere to go. you fumbled with your phone in your backpack and pulled up your contacts. you knew of no one in your contacts who’d let you stay; they were either on vacation or far away. in truth, bakugou was your closest friend since childhood. he was your map, your guide, your destination; where were you without him?

the wind brushed your cheek as you stood outside the entrance, watching cars pass. the world felt so big compared to the mere side character of you, who buildings loomed over like menacing shadows. it was a somewhat comforting moment, being an alone speck in the grand scheme of things. like this, it was for only a moment you’d forgotten why you were out here in the first place. you’d forgotten the warm feeling that once nestled itself in your heart, instead enraptured by the freeing breeze that rustled in it. 

red. then a breeze. that’s all you saw, eyes widening and stepping back. a man no older than you stood in front of you, hands in his pockets. vermillion wings protruded from somewhere on his back, arcing slightly over the man.

“heyyy….” he said lazily, shadows falling on his face. you started walking backward, hands discreetly feeling for the door behind you. “wait! i’m a pro-hero, i swear! i’m hawks, look it up!” he lifted his hands up in surrender, backing away from you. 

“who…. what do you want?” you asked cautiously, hand on the doorknob behind you. 

he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. “i, uh…. got lost…. tokyo’s such a big place, y’know?”

“where are you from?” you couldn’t really discern anything of an accent on him, other than a slightly rougher tone of speaking.

“kyushu, fukuoka…” he gestured vaguely. that explained the slight accent. “i’m in tokyo for a bit of work. business trip, y’know how it goes. haven’t visited tokyo in a while, honestly. what’s a good place for a bite? a bird is starving.”

“uh… there’s a place down the street to the right…” off the top of your head, you pointed out a cafe you and bakugou had frequented. 

“it doesn’t have chicken wings, does it?” hawks asked.

“chicken…?” you looked from him to his wings. “no, sorry.”

“don’t sweat it! ‘s fine. hey, i might as well treat you for wasting your time. where’re you heading off to? i could pay for a cab, if you gotta go.”

“ah, thank you....” you said bashfully. “i’m not really in a rush anywhere.”

“really?” he looked excited, innocently so, almost like a puppy. “can i treat you to something?”

“uh… sure,” you replied, strengthening your grip on your backpack. “sure.” 

“great! off we go, m’liege!” he pointed toward the cafe and started marching. he was a sight to behold on the street, red wings standing out a mile away. you followed somewhat reluctantly, grabbing your phone to google exactly who the pro-hero “hawks” was. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but you weren’t one who knew their heroes. yeah, it was definitely him; what was your luck, meeting such a famous pro-hero on the street after being dumped by the love of your life?

he hummed a tuneless melody, turning to the cafe. he held the doorknob waiting for you, opening the door for you first. the homey cafe was decently packed for lunchtime, the quiet chatter of people filling the atmosphere. the scene reminded you of so many other times you'd gone here with bakugou; it gave you chills as you stood next to hawks. 

"hey," hawks said quietly. "you okay? you seem tense." 

you gulped and shook your head. "nah, i'm fine. just thinking about what to eat," you lied. 

he nodded, seeming to buy into the lie. stepping toward the menu, he said, "the toasted sandwiches look good."

"uh huh," you agreed absentmindedly. your attention was on the bout of people who'd turned to look at hawks, some snapping pictures on their phones. he did stand out pretty well with his wings. 

"'scuse me-!" a little girl, no more than 6 or 7, approached the hero. she had a distinctive accent; it was slightly hard to understand her. "can i 'ave a photo with ya?" her eyes got all round. "yer my big brother's favorite hero!"

 "'course, darlin'," hawks smiled. his voice somewhat mimicked hers, his dialect becoming apparent. 

once he'd taken a photo with her, more and more people started following suit, crowding him. you stood awkwardly to the side. some people didn't even know who he was, from what you could tell. you debated ordering a latte and leaving, but decided it'd be unfair to hawks. he was kind to everyone he interacted with, unlike most celebrities who just wanted fame and disregarded others.

after some time, the crowd finally dispersed, leaving you and hawks together. 

he glanced at his watch. “ah, sorry, that took a while…” he apologized. “do you have somewhere to be? i must’ve held you up…”

“nah, don’t worry about it.” you waved him off. “i, uh, actually… was just dumped by my boyfriend…” you nervously shuffled your feet. “i don’t really have a place to stay at the moment… so i’m free the entire day, i guess.” you laughed nervously.

he blinked at you, bird-like eyes wide. “you must be starving.”

you felt your face warm and you laughed - this time, a real, genuine laugh that was a missed sensation against your tongue. “yeah. yeah, i am.”

“hey, dove.” his voice suddenly got close to you, gentler. “you’re crying.”

“oh…?” you felt your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “sorry. i have tissues in my backpack, hang on…” you unzipped the front pocket and started to rummage blindly through your belongings, groping for something vaguely feeling like a packet of tissues.

“here,” he said, handing you a tissue. you turned to him gratefully, accepting the tissue and wiping your face. 

“it’s just… weird,” you said after a pause. “he’s been there all my life - my ex, i mean.” ex. such a strange name for the man you so adored; ex, crossing off the relationship you thought you’d built with him. 

hawks nodded, guiding you to a booth in the cafe. 

you continued, “sorry. you probably didn’t want to hear this today… you’re busy with your hero duties and whatnot.”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, feather,” he reassured you. “he didn’t kick you out, did he?”

“oh, no,” you clarified quickly. “i… left,” you said, abashed. “i shouldn’t’ve been so sudden, but… it was an instinct thing.”

“why’d he do it so suddenly?” hawks asked. “you didn’t see it coming, right?”

“no, i didn’t… but maybe i should’ve…” you think about the part couple months with bakugou. nothing seemed different - you’d gone on dates like normal and spent time together like a couple that loved each other. his interest in you never faltered and nor did the sparkle in his eyes dull; what had happened? what had gone so wrong? 

you realize the silence that’s fallen between you and hawks. the hero was looking at the menu behind you intently. 

“ham and cheese…” he muttered to himself. “no, teriyaki… so yummy… with coffee…” he suddenly seemed aware of your eyes staring at him. “oh, what did you want to eat?”

“i’ll probably have the teriyaki,” you said. it was your go-to sandwich choice at the cafe. you reached for your backpack to retrieve your wallet, but hawks stopped you.

“let me,” he said. “i already caused you so much inconvenience.” 

“ah, okay…” you said meekly. “thank you.”

he shrugged. “what wouldja like to drink?”

“uh… orange juice,” you said. 

“alright!” he saluted you. “your wish is my command.” he got up to order, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. the cashier was particularly animated talking to him, initiating a conversation about aerodynamics with the pro-hero from what you could hear. 

he returned with the sandwiches (made at the fastest time you swore you’d seen them prepare food) and set yours in front of you. 

“let’s dig in!” hawks said, biting into his sandwich. you agreed, taking a bite of yours as well. 

“what’s your name, by the way?” he said in between bites. “i don’t think i ever asked.”

“y/n,” you said.

“pretty,” he commented. “i’m hawks.”

“i know,” you blurted. “i googled it.”

“you did?” his pupils widened. “what’d it say??”

“uhh…” you pulled out your phone, finding the tab you used to google hawks. you turned your screen to him.

he studied the screen. “not fond of that angle,” he mused to himself. “so, why’d your boyfriend dump you?” 

you were taken aback by his candor. “he… said he didn’t love me anymore,” you admitted.

“all of a sudden? out of the blue?”

you shook your head. “he said he’d tried to endure it for a while.”

“how long?”

“a month or two,” you sighed, thinking about the sight of him sitting dejectedly on the couch this morning.

“he didn’t say anything before that?” hawks gasped. “the nerve. how long have you been together?”

“four… or five years now?” you’d been dating him since your days at ua, even when most high school romances - between childhood friends, no less - were especially rocky. he was your promised forever. 

“and he gives up after two months?” hawks set his sandwich down. “wow. some boyfriend.”

“i think there was something more to it,” you said thoughtfully. “we’ve known each other for a long…”

“you still love him, don’t you?”

“i mean… yeah….” you hadn’t given it much thought; bakugou was a habit your heart couldn’t stop thinking about. it was like depriving your heart of oxygen: foreign and wrong. “i do.”

“i’m sorry, dove,” he said. 

“your sandwich will get cold,” you said in an attempt to divert the conversation topic.

“you’re right.” he picked up his sandwich and started eating again, eyes still on you. “this place has good food.”

you hummed in agreement, distracted by the cars going by outside the window. 

“where will you stay?” he asked, halfway done with his sandwich.

hawks voiced the concern plaguing your subconscious from the moment you stepped out of bakugou’s apartment building. it was definitely not the most thoroughly well-thought out plan, and you didn’t want to come back knocking on his door in the night. besides, you weren’t sure if you could stand being there again, in the presence of a liar and someone who felt so foreign to you. you wondered how much you truly didn’t know about bakugou; were there any other lies he’d blossomed behind your back? 

you knew you might be able to stay at a hotel for a couple nights, but not for long. going back to bakugou’s place… as much as you so dreaded the mere thought, you knew it might be your absolute last resort. 

“i’m not sure,” you finally replied truthfully. hawks appeared to have come to a conclusion of sorts.

“tell ya what,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “explore tokyo with me.” he took a bite of his sandwich. continuing, he said, “‘s not often the commission puts me in the big city. i’m off today, so…”

the offer was somewhat bizarre, but what did you have to lose? you agreed, under the terms you wouldn’t be out too late. as you walked out the door, you greeted the cool outside breeze with the hope this would help you put the past behind you.

walking through tokyo with a pro-hero proved harder than it sounded. for one, people kept approaching hawks; after all, he was like a walking light-up sign that said “LOOK AT ME!” with the size and color of his wings. after every time a fan asked hawks for an autograph, he sheepishly apologized to you, and offered two autographs to you. you always laughed and declined; the trip was a reward in itself, you supposed. each acquaintance made you appreciate all the responsibilities of a pro-hero. he was charming, though. he really was, so you didn’t mind.

“skytree! let’s go there!” was the first thing hawks had said walking out of the cafe. you’d been to the skytree a couple of times in your childhood, and it was a nice memory; the tall building stretching, touching the tip of the sky. your parents had told you that stardust flecked the very top of the skytree, for it was so tall. you’d never actually reached the highest floor; it felt like a distant fantasy, as you’d always get tired before reaching the top or circumstance would interfere.

it was a five minute walk to the nearest station, and it’d be another forty or so to skytree. hawks didn’t seem to mind, though, happily promenading down the street like a kid in a candy shop. he pointed excitedly to random buildings that you hadn’t given a second thought about and rambled about the facts he knew about skytree with an accent tingeing his words more than usual. he reminded you very much so of a child going on a field trip, and his giddiness only boosted yours.

“we’re here!” his eyes glistened with anticipation when you reached the station. you’d visited the station dozens of times, but looked at it with a new light when you realized how excited hawks was. “i’ll pay; i dragged you here,” he said immediately when you started to pay for tickets. 

“really, i can’t-” you started, but he cut you off.

“let me. it’s my off day! please.” he took the two tickets he paid for. “here.”

“i don’t really have a choice, do i?”

“nope!” he was already walking away, smiling back at you and waving his ticket.

“hey- wait!” you started running after him. “wrong way!”

forty minutes later, two transfers, and one circle around the station in pursuit of skytree, you stood at the entrance of the tokyo skytree. hawks’ mouth watered at the sight of the line of restaurants in the breezeway you’d passed prior, and you had to stop him from ordering the seasonal special from mcdonald’s before turning to skytree. 

“but you just ate!” you exclaimed as he stared longingly at the ice cream being advertised on a poster. 

he pouted. “but i’m hungry…”

you took his hand (which momentarily shocked him) and guided him to the entrance. it was a bit crowded, but not overtly so. hawks was looking everywhere once you’d entered; darting from here to there, sometimes carrying small souvenirs or drinks when returning to you. you were out of energy by the time you’d reached floor 340, though hawks told you there were only 29 floors total and the name was referencing the height. it certainly didn’t feel like an exaggeration, your feet dragging on the ground as you stepped out of the oddly fast elevator. 

you begged hawks to let you rest at the cafe you saw. the cafe felt like a little oasis of tranquility, uncrowded on contrary to the other floors. it was relaxing as you stared outside the window and up at the sky. it brought you to your parents words of stars and magic, though something as modern as the skytree must be strange to intermingle with magic. in the moment you were suspended; the still sky surrounding you and the ever-moving cars below. you swore you could just reach the clouds in front of you and float, so serenely in an eternal bubble of quietude to yourself. everything else was forgotten in that moment; things were the way they always were. it was always you, in the end.

after leaving the cafe, you watched people stand on glass flooring overlooking everything below. some jumped on the glass, while some frightenedly stuck a foot on the glass and jumped back. 

“quite the view, huh?” hawks mumbled with a mouth stuffed full with chocolate cake. “i usually have to fly so far to get this view.”

you nodded. “it’s amazing...” 

“so… where d’you wanna go after this?” he asked you. 

“actually…” your thoughts went back to the stories your parents told you. “can we go up to floor 455?”

he showed a hint of surprise on his face. “really? i know we bought the tickets to do it, but if you’re tired, we can just go down.”

“no…” you cleared your throat. “it’s been something i really wanted to do.”

he took this answer and smiled, grasping your hand. “let’s walk into the sky!”

the train ride back did not go as smoothly as you hoped. the adrenaline of being 450 meters in the air had worn itself out, and the pitting realization that bakugou was no longer yours dawned on you. the sapphire sky in your fairy tale story seemed so far now, stars shattering and crumbling. you reached for a piece of a star, but each piece dissolved above your head, light that would never reach you. 

“feather,” hawks said quietly. the intense look in his eyes looked like he was building up to something important. 

“yeah?” you asked. you fixated on him.

“do you want… a badtz-maru eraser?”

you stared at the spiky-haired penguin in the palm of hawks’ hand. 

“sure…?” you said. hawks happily plopped the eraser into your hand. 

“feather,” he said again in the same tone. “you should visit bakugou, you know. tonight, to make things straight with him.”

that was what he was building up to. bakugou. you hadn’t dwelled much on the thought of the man; the skytree filling most of your thoughts for the day. but it was still light out.

“i know,” you replied softly, looking down at your fingers. these were the hands that held your heart as you gave it to bakugou, the hands that bakugou held tenderly for so many days and nights. they were the same hands that held your heart now, returned by bakugou shattered and clinking to the ground. the rest of the train ride was silent.

you could now hear your thoughts echoing around the train compartment, deflecting off walls and still making their way to your heart. you wondered what words were left unsaid by bakugou, painful truths untold hidden in the recesses of his heart. you wondered if he remembered how he’d first nervously asked you on a date in high school, words rough but fingers softly fidgeting with each other. it was in may, near the end of the day. he shoved a small box of chocolates towards you, muttering something about “weird hair” making him do it. he’d aggressively stuttered his way through a confession, barely making eye contact with you. the memory brought a fluttering to your heart, but with it came a sore pain for the first time. you wondered if he felt the same or if he was just numb, like how he now felt about you. what did it feel like to fall out of love? 

you wondered if he remembered the many times he’d walked you home (only for your sake, of course, not anything else). you wondered if he remembered how fondly he looked at you then. his heart was on his sleeve during those times, the perpetual blush on his cheeks disclosing his very vulnerable feelings towards you. 

even on the most draining of days, bakugou would always be there for you. even if his eyelids were closing upon their own accord and legs were sore from a day’s work, he made it a point to be there for you. while children might’ve had their security blankets, you had bakugou. your heart dropped realizing those days of coming home to bakugou were gone.

what had happened? now, you were alone on a train that felt so cold and without the love that had so warmed your heart. why had things ended up like this? why did you numb bakugou’s feelings so? the wave was slow at first, but once it had reached the shore, your tears fell hot and unyielding as you toppled off the edge of being okay.

hawks was by your side wordlessly, a wing around you and leaning you close to him. the feathers were soft. you cried unabashedly in his embrace, sniffling as he soothed you. you tried to say thank you, but all that came out was another sob.

your feet, on instinct, took you to bakugou's apartment without any problem. it could’ve been any other day; you, coming back to the apartment after running errands. it was your hand that hesitated as it hovered an inch away from the wood of the door, the only sign that something had changed. you liked to pretend it hadn’t. you wished that when you’d open the door, you’d hear a light chatter from the tv and a familiar voice saying, “welcome home, idiot.” you wished that the air that enveloped you as soon as you opened the door was that of liveliness and comfort, of warm orange and yellow hues. you wished that the atmosphere didn’t feel so dead, dull, and musty; you wish it hadn’t drowned in shades of blue and gray. you wished you didn’t have the key to the apartment still.

you wished that bakugou would say something, anything, rather than sit on the couch with his head bowed. you wished that you didn’t miss him so much and that you had him, all at the same time. you wished you turned back as soon as you heard the knob click and pushed open the door; you wished not to see all that you had in what was once your apartment.

you wished you didn’t revel in his presence next to you on the couch. you wished you didn’t almost lean into his touch because he was your home, and you wished your eyes didn’t well up the way they had. you wished to have sat in that silence for a while then up and gone; you wished he hadn’t said anything at all.

“hey, idiot,” was a cracky and raspy thing coming out of his mouth, words familiar but so foreign at the same time.

“hey,” was what you whispered back, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“where’d you go?” but it wasn’t a question, just a fragile plea devoid of hope.

“skytree,” and you felt you’d break the mood.

“did you reach the top?” his response surprised and killed you at the same time.

“yeah,” you said quietly. “i did.”

“alone?”

“i could never alone.”

“who…?”

“met a pro-hero by chance.”

“your true hero, huh?” it was a bitter tone, venom biting you.

“no,” and your heart sunk because it was the truth.

he scoffed. getting up from the couch, he said, “you forgot something.”

your eyes followed him as he disappeared into your once shared room. he returned quite fast, as if you’d left it on the dresser, carrying a decorated shoebox. you’d almost forgotten about it entirely, eyes wide as nostalgia hit you. 

it was a memory box you’d made the last year of high school. it was supposed to be for school memories, but it really just became a box of mementos of bakugou. you could barely see the contents inside, too busy trying to hold back the tears in your eyes. you thumbed through photos and polaroids of you and him, some with his friends and some with yours. oh, what you’d give to have those times back. though it was all blurred, you could feel the moments so vividly: feel the cool summer breeze and hear the sound of people conversing with each other at a festival; hear mina’s excited ramblings and bakugou’s grumbling at the supermarket; smell caramel and vanilla at a movie night, pressed against bakugou’s body warmth. you dropped the photos back into the box and picked up a scorched pencil. a pressed rose. a neatly folded sheet of notes you’d sent back and forth with bakugou during class. 

and then it was all gone, shutting the box.

“keep it.” you regretted the words as soon as they left your lips, but you wouldn’t take them back. you handed him the box, staring at the floor and wiping your wet eyes. the memories were no longer yours to keep.

bakugou was silent, taking the box and leaving to his room to put it away. 

“is that all?” you tried to make your voice sound strong, impatient. like you had better places to be without him. you hoped he couldn’t tell how it was more of a beg to stay.

“yeah.” cold. emotionless.

you stood for another second, looking around. everything seemed different, as if the glass which surrounded your universe had shattered. “bye, katsuki.”

“bye.”

your footsteps were light, but each step felt weighed by metal weights. you wished he stopped you from leaving. you wished you looked back at him. you wished you weren’t crying.

you shut the door quietly, weakly, behind you. it all came out in the hallway, tears and desperate sobs. you prayed he couldn’t hear you; but you knew, even if he did, he wouldn’t care anymore. he was numbed, no longer the firework you’d known.

“hawks,” it came as a quiet plea as you felt for your phone and dialed his number. he gave it to you right before you walked into bakugou’s apartment.

“please pick up, please pick up,” you muttered, trying to wipe the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they came.

“hey, birdie? are you okay?”

“hawks,” you sobbed. “hawks, no, i’m not.” 

“hey, are you still at the apartment building? i’ll be right there, chickadee, alright?”

you nodded, sniffed, then said meekly, “yeah.”

“stay on the line. talk to me, birdie.” his voice was soothing.

“hawks, it hurts, everything.” you felt as though you were pouring out your heart, spilling scarlet on the carpet. “hawks.” tears dropped onto the carpet. “hawks.” your knees almost gave in.

“what floor are you on, dove?”

“third,” you hiccupped. 

“i’m right there, feather.” you saw hawks emerge from the stairwell. his hair looked windblown. he looked relieved to see you at first, then his face fell to that of sympathy. “oh, birdie,” he said softly, running up to you. “i’m here now.’

you weren’t aware bakugou was listening to you cry on the other side of the door as you sobbed into someone else’s shoulder, not his. with dark eyes and trembling hands he couldn’t calm, he dialed a number on his phone.

“well, tomura? i did it.”