Middle finger crown

Hell yeah

Listening to "for the glory" now, guess where I got the title of this chapter from.

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Time.

Something all of us know, something all of us follow, something all of us wish for more of, something I wish less of.

Death.

Something all of us know, something all of us try to stop, something all of us wish to end, something I wish more of.

God, time to stop being depressing.

Okay, so anyways, most of the time I feel like this. Like in all honesty is this what life is supposed to be like? For fucks sake I thought it was going to be all fun and games but here I am, around seven years old, (A/N listening to 7 years old) already knowing how painful the world is.

What's innocence? Never fucking heard of it.

Right now, guess what I'm fucking doing, lying on the fucking cold ass ground next to some fucking old guy (he looks around 50) with bruises decorating my scarred and blister covered skin.

I've done everything solo (A/N listening to solo) since day one. Not relying on anyone to bring me a nice warm platter of food or tuck me into bed while singing soothing songs, only trusting myself on the streets.

I don't know how long I've been here, probably a few hours at least, but I still can't move. This old guy (forgot his name, not too sure he even told me) tried to "save" me from getting beat up from some random bitches who were too stupid to understand what a "bitch" was and ended up with me having to protect him and both of us getting beaten to a pulp.

There was like twenty of them I swear.

So, I've just been awkwardly sitting here, trying to stay conscious through my (most likely) bruised ribs and broken bones. Yup, definitely how I wanted to spend my Sunday afternoon.

"Geez kid, how did you get yourself into that position, huh?"
Mr. wears-too-much-black said nonchalantly, managing to sit up. I pushed myself up too, not wanting to appear weak to the obviously strong person next to me. His quirk seemed to be erasing others quirks.

I said nothing in return, opting to stand up (not using my hands, which hurt too much to even think about), wincing every once in a while, before straightening my back, wanting to seem somewhat intrepid myself.

"You shouldn't have jumped in old man"
I warned, glaring at him, he laughed slightly

"'Old man'? Do I really seem that old? I'm only 22..."
What the actual fuck, he looks super old with his greasy skin and hair and the bags under his eyes... Jesus Christ he's probably lying.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Now leave before I pound your face in"
I retorted, bringing up my fist threateningly.

"Never thought the day would come when I'm threatened by a five year old-"

"FOR FUCKS SAKE I'M SEVEN YOU ASS"

"-And now I'm being cursed out by one"
I groaned and decided to just leave, he was really annoying. Before I even turned around, some weird scarf thingy came out of nowhere and tied itself around me

"No quirk, huh? No wonder they were picking on you. Now, where do you live, I'll walk you home. You certainly don't seem to be in the condition to go by yourself"
I glared harder. He can figure out if someone's quirkless if not and erase their quirk, even more useful.

Now comes the big reveal, I don't have a home. Been on the streets all my life, don't even remember my "family's" names, much less where my house was. I brushed him off