#abuse will make anyone lose their minds go unhinged | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkykeiji · 3 years

Text

you be the match, i will be your fuse

fluffy anon said: dabi coming home after an absolutely horrid day at work and just needing to be absolutely BABIED by reader (i’m talking cuddling in bed, taking a bath with him and washing his hair then getting out just rubbing his back as he sleeps with his head on your chest)

genre: angst + fluff, laced with just a hint of smut (like two sentences)

notes: aaaah happy birthday dabi!!! this has absolutely nothing to do with your birthday but eeee ily | title cred: sure thing by miguel

warnings: 18+, implied/mentioned death of a child, one instance of implied past physical abuse, self-destructive behaviour + coping mechanisms, co-dependent toxic relationship

words: 3.5k

It’s thundering the day it happens, ferocious growls that rumble through your apartment—a tiny, quaint space you share with Dabi, full of faulty appliances and cracked linoleum—rolling, fluffy grey clouds blanketing the entire sky, swollen with restrained rain droplets as a storm brews within them. Little fingers idly toy with the yellowed pages of your worn pulp fiction novel, flipping through them and bending corners as your eyes search the angry sky, chewing on your cheek.

Dabi should’ve been home by now. It’s not like him to be late without calling, without letting his babygirl know what’s going on—he knows the way you worry, the way you overthink yourself into a frenzy, the way you’re so clingy and needy, teases you about it incessantly and tells you he thinks it’s cute—and a deep sense of dread takes root in the pit of your stomach, dark and bitter and unfurling, quickly spreading throughout the cavity of your chest.

His phone must be off—no, it’s never off, he doesn’t do that anymore, not since you stumbled into his life—his phone must be dead, your repeated calls growing increasingly frequent and urgent every time you’re greeted with the drone of his automatic voicemail.

Something’s wrong, horribly so.

It’s evident the moment he arrives home, scratched brass doorknob slamming against the wall, deepening the crater its left from past incidents of a similar manner.

It infects the air around him, hanging heavy and thick, its dense presence nearly suffocating. His shoulders slump under the pressure, the weight of whatever he’s carrying practically crushing, as he drags his crimson splattered boots through the front door, soles scraping against the cheap hardwood, bringing the putrid scent of charred flesh with him—his or someone else’s, you don’t know.

You swear you can almost see it, this—this thing, this aura, enveloping him in its haughty embrace as his chest heaves under a deep, controlled breath, pausing in the foyer as the door shuts behind him.

Bare feet pad against the floor, your legs moving without your explicit permission, drawn towards him in an almost instinctual manner, the desire to care for, to comfort, burning as it bubbles up in your chest, mixing with that intense sense of trepidation and invading your veins.

He permits you to wrap your arms around his torso as you nuzzle against him, body going rigid for a moment, still and stiff as marble, before he exhales again, melting into your embrace.

Several questions race through your mind at such a speed that they crash and clash together, becoming nothing more than incoherent jumbled lettering, tiny fingers curling in the fabric of his clothing as you try to pull him closer, nonsensical babbling spilling from your lips. A vacant ghost of a chuckle leaves his lips, nothing more than a simple huff of breath, and he squeezes you closer.

“Bad day?” the words are mumbled against his dirty t-shirt, what was once a pristine white now tarnished with ash and blood. You don’t get a response—you don’t expect one.

He doesn’t talk much, not on days like this.

He doesn’t need to.

Bad days—really bad, terrible, awful days such as this one—are surprisingly rare with Dabi. Sure, he’s had the typical ‘bad’ day before, where someone pisses him off, or he gets into a fight with his superior, but those bad days usually require railing you into your creaky, springy king-sized mattress until you’ve forgotten everything but his name and he’s fucked all of the anger and hatred out of his body.

They are not like this one. No, on days such as this, on days where he’s killed someone he deems to be innocent, someone who—like him—is a victim of heroism, he’s quiet, distant, unpredictable, bordering on unhinged, and you’ve learned to tread with extreme discretion.

But you don’t push, either, resolving to communicate through gentle touches, soft fingertips that run along his tense, broad shoulders and press into the hard coiled muscles, tender fingers that thread through inky tufts of hair, sapphire eyes closing as he hums and leans into the motion like a cat.

It’s only for a second, though, just a moment of weakness before he’s breaking out of your embrace, pushing past you and clearing his throat, glass door to the balcony sliding shut a moment later.

You don’t follow. You know better than that now, a phantom sting in your cheek serving as a reminder, the resounding sharp sound of glass shattering as it’s hurled at the floor slicing through your mind with such viciousness it makes you wince.

Instead, you sit. And you wait. Like you’re supposed to, like a good little girl, a book clutched between your quivering hands, unblinking eyes staring at the words on the page, nothing but incomprehensible symbols—lines and lines of black ink in meaningless shapes—as scorching sapphire loops through your mind.

Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl. Give him space. Let him come to you.

It’s standard procedure, really.

And eventually, he does, comes back inside with an empty bottle of whiskey clutched in a hand, along with a crumpled package of cigarettes. You don’t know how long it’s been, muscles sore and joints aching from sitting in the same position for so long, eyes dry from staring at the same page, barely moving, barely breathing. His hand is bleeding, knuckles bruised and gleaming with sticky scarlet that’s still fresh and flowing, but it could be worse. It has been worse.

The harsh clink of the bottle against the kitchen counter makes you flinch, and he sighs, heavy and full of derision, eyes flicking up to glare at your side profile.

“I can hear you thinking,”

“You’re filthy, baby,” the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable, involuntary, almost reflexive in your response, eyes snapping to his face and voice whiny, voice pleading. “Take a bath with me,”

And you can see it—can see it in the dark cobalt of his irises, what he needs, the very thing he’s fighting himself on, the very thing he’s fighting so hard against. Always so stubborn, so reluctant, so cautious.

Because, fuck, he used to be able to resist it, this pathetic ache for comfort—something that’s only managed to grow in your presence, that’s shifted and morphed from a dull smoldering to a raging fire, an insatiable longing for your fingers in his hair and your breath on his skin and your voice against his ear—a skill he’d been constructing, developing, perfecting, since he was thirteen years old. A skill you succeeded in shattering in the matter of a few measly months.

Because you—you’re different. And he hates it sometimes, he swears to the good Lord he does, but hating it doesn’t make it any less true. You break him down, you make him weak, you make him want, and the longer he spends around you, the more he finds that he doesn’t fucking care. And that’s irritating, that’s exciting, that’s terrifying, that’s new.

Fury blisters his chest, his lungs, his throat as he holds your stare, jaw clenching twice. But you don’t falter, not like the rest of them, not like anyone else—everyone else. You never falter, always so eager to see the good in him, a snort leaving his nose at the thought. The good in him. Is there any good left in him? Was there ever any good in him in the first place? Are you the good in him, now? Does he care?

And he’s not sure he’ll ever understand it, but he’s beginning to realize that, maybe, he doesn’t have to.

Maybe, it doesn’t matter. Maybe, it’s okay, if you love him, if he loves you.

Maybe.

It’s too much, and he can feel frustration stinging his eyes, long delicate eyelashes fluttering as he quickly blinks it away. Spears, sharp and cold, splinter your chest at the sight, but you know if you begin crying too, you’ll lose him. You know that if you begin showing what he considers weakness, he’ll pull away, even though this is what he so clearly needs most.

So you steel yourself, swallowing hard against the pain collecting in your throat, will the tears away and force your body to stay calm, approaching him slowly as if he’s some sort of feral animal prone to lashing out.

Apprehension is clear in his azure eyes, head tilting a little as they narrow, regarding you with skepticism, with suspicion.

It’s bold, and dangerous, and—as far as Dabi’s concerned—fucking stupid, but you don’t care, determined to prove to him that you aren’t going anywhere regardless of how many tantrums he throws, no matter how many times he hurts you in his anguish. It’s almost desperate, really, this sheer need to prove to him that you aren’t scared of him, that irrespective of how soft he seems to think you are, you are strong, even if it’s in ways he could never understand, that you can be strong for him, when he needs it, that he can borrow some of your strength, if he needs to.

And that—that’s why he loves you. It hits him hard, as this realization always does, kicks him in the chest and knocks the breath out of him every time, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it.

A tiny hand hangs in the air between the two of you, Dabi regarding the offer with a wary hesitance. Wiggling fingers attempt to entice him, earning a tiny smirk—a massive victory—as sapphire flits up to gaze at you through thick lashes, an eyebrow raised.

You match his expression, quirking an eyebrow of your own and nodding at your hand, speaking a moment later.

“Let me in, baby,” the words are barely above a whisper, but they’re so raw, filled with so much unadulterated love it hurts, pure and real and everything he’s never had before. “Let me help,”

And, God, it’s fucking overwhelming, how badly he wishes to give in to this unfamiliar compassion, how desperately he desires your affection, despite the malicious voice echoing off the walls of his skull, berating him for being so pathetic, so weak, so vulnerable.

But the urge to accept, to seek out consolation in you, wins, just as it always does, that nasty voice reverberating in his mind silenced the very instant his skin touches yours.

You let him make the last move, allow him to make that final decision entirely on his own accord, to grasp your hand in his, warm and rough, and pull you towards him, crushing you against his chest as he buries his face in your hair, eyes squeezed shut against that annoying burn of tears, chest stuttered with a hitched breath, air that gets caught in his throat as he chokes on the words he wants to say.

But he doesn’t need to say them. You already know.

“Come,” you murmur to him, fingers threading through the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. “Let’s take a bath,”

✰ ✰ ✰

The bathwater stings your skin, just a hint too hot to be comfortable, but you say nothing as you settle onto his lap in the cramped little tub, encompassed by frothy bubbles, dainty scent of orange citrus tickling your nose.

Heated fingertips press into your hips as he finds comfort the only way he knows how to, in your precious little whimpers and broken moans of his name as he bounces you on his cock, so vigorously you’re positive you can feel him in your tummy, the pads of his fingers searing his prints into your skin.

It’s heady, it’s intoxicating, it’s addicting, heightened emotions both pleasant and unpleasant swirling together with the symphony of your cries and his grunts as the water you’re submerged in begins to bubble and boil, to crack and pop, sudsy liquid sloshing over the side of the tiny tub as he forces you to ride him, faster and faster and faster until you’re whining and convulsing around him, and he’s filling you with thick cum, cock throbbing aggressively as he spurts load after load into you.

After, as he leans back against the cold tile, residual droplets sizzling into steam as his heated skin touches them. Gentle fingers card between his hair, water cascading through onyx strands as it pours over his head from a worn plastic cup—a faded Darth Vader staring back at you as you rhythmically repeat your actions until the tresses stick to his forehead and cheeks, drenched and shining in the low light of the washroom.

Heavy lids obscure the most brilliant sapphire from you as shampoo is massaged into his scalp, slow and unhurried and thorough, every stroke, every comb through inky clumps easing the turmoil in his mind bit by bit, calming the storm that’s been raging inside of him for hours now. Deep hums rumble in his chest as your fingers continue their ministrations, your eyes trained on your motions. And you can feel it, the tension dissipating from his body with each circle of foam rubbed into his soft hair, shoulders finally beginning to relax as he subconsciously nuzzles into your touch, following it, longing for it, aching for more.

He shifts then, after you’ve rinsed the soap from his hair, manhandling you into a position between his thighs, bare chest pressed tightly against your back. You work hard to keep your body from tensing, forcing your breathing to stay even, to stay calm as you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“He was eleven,” he says after several long moments of silence, voice low and trembling, hoarse and heavy with remorse. “This time.”

This time. That’s the third innocent civilian—innocent by his standards, at least—this month.

That’s the first time it’s ever been a child.

You don’t turn around to look at him, not yet—he isn’t finished—simply opting to lace your fingers through his and bring your joined hands to your lips, kissing each wounded knuckle, crude staples catching in the dim warm light of the tiny bathroom.

You want to tell him it wasn’t his fault, even though it was. You want to tell him anything that’ll make him feel better, that’ll absolve the guilt so evidently gnawing away at his insides, even though you know there’s nothing you can say.

“What are—I don’t even—” his voice breaks and you feel his chest stutter against your back, feel him exhale harshly, breath cool on your damp shoulder, feel him swallow thickly as he tries again. Because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he would never admit it, you know he needs release this from the confines of his mind—you know you’re the only person who can offer him such an outlet. “Why the fuck were there kids there in the first place? Huh? They shouldn’t—They shouldn’t have been there,”

Orphans are everywhere in this city, you murmur, lips moving against his rough skin. He knows. Orphans of heroes. He knows.

“I’m gonna kill Shigaraki, I swear to Christ. Sending us to a—a fucking place infested with fucking ch-children,” his fingers curl around yours, hand beginning to shake as it clutches you like a lifeline, like that guilt will devour him from the inside out, like he’ll disintegrate into nothingness, if he doesn’t. “I bet you he fucking knew—nah, I-I’m positive he did. Asshole only cares about himself, though. Doesn’t matter that—that the cause we’re supposed to be fighting for affects these stupid kids,”

You’re right, love.

The words leave your lips in a gentle breath, leaning your head back against his collarbone and staring up at him. Cobalt eyes stay trained on the cracked tile wall, jaw methodically clenching as his molars grind together, an attempt to quell the trembling of his chin, exhaling hard harsh breaths through flared nostrils.

“Whatever,” he huffs, voice still wavering and not nearly as self-assured as he wishes. “Th-That brat shouldn’t have been there in the first place,”

He shouldn’t have, you agree, finally squirming in his grasp, turning to face him, to straddle his hips again in the tight space of the tub. And he welcomes your affections readily this time, arms encircling your waist as he holds you tightly to him, blunt nails digging purple-tinged crescents into your flesh as he shoves his face against your neck, finally allowing those emotions he’s been fighting to leak from his eyes and absorb into your skin.

Little palms rub soothing circles into his back as he shudders against you, allowing him to empty his soul onto you as soft lips press chaste kisses to his damp hair, waiting until there’s nothing left, until his eyes are drained, azure glassy and bloodshot, nose twitching and red.

And after he’s done, when he finally pulls back, scrubbing aggressively at his nose as tiny sniffles hitch in his chest, gentle fingers begin to lather soap into his skin, washing away the dirt and grime and blood from the day. Fingertips carefully trace along the metal sutures decorating his body with immeasurable adoration, you whispering all of the things he so desperately needs to hear that he’d never dare to ask for, complimented by the tender touches that cleanse his soul with their unconditional love.

He’s bigger than you are, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to wrap him in a fluffy white towel, using another in an attempt to dry his hair as your hands move in shaggy motions, heart soaring in your chest when you pull a soft laugh from his lips, wet and wobbly and croaky, but a laugh nonetheless.

A mutual silence, gentle and comforting and stuffed full of an immense love, a special kind of love, a love words do not exist to explain, swathes your bodies as he allows you to dress him, pulling a ratty old band tee over his head and a pair of plaid PJ pants up his legs.

“You always look so cute in my clothes,” he rasps from his spot perched on the edge of the bed, glowing crystal eyes watching as you pull one of his t-shirts over your naked body.

A genuine bubble of laughter erupts from your throat as you climb into bed with him, immediately allowing him to latch onto you, to pull you towards him, to hold you close like his own personal plushie.

“Sleep,” you murmur as the two of you settle into a comfortable position, limbs tangled together, his head resting on your chest, fingers threading through his hair and then tracing down his neck, his back. “And then I’ll make you ramen,”

“The spicy kind?”

“Of course,”

I love you.

“Extra spicy?”

Laughing again, you feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, grip around your torso tightening. “Extra spicy. Now, rest,”

More than anything else.

“With the little fish cakes?”

“Your favourite little fish cakes,”

More than words could ever tell you.

“And the pork belly?”

“And the pork belly,” you feel his chest rise with an inhale, hastily adding, “And those little cream puffs you love so much, from that dingy convenience store downstairs, for dessert. Now sleep, baby,”

He laughs, even though his vision is blurring, even though it comes out more strangled than anything else, because he doesn’t want to cry again, because his chest stings and aches and swells and warms, full of inexplicable emotions, feels like it’s going to fucking burst as it chokes and reinvigorates him all at once, and—God, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

Because even though he’s terrified beyond belief, he’s willing to try—just for you, only for you—as he continually realizes with each passing day that he isn’t sure what the fuck he’d do without you, now. Because you’re too entangled up in his life, too deeply embedded in his very soul, for him to ever remove you, now. Because as petrifying and unfamiliar as it is, he doesn’t want to, now.

Because even though he’s broken, irrevocably so, and you can’t fix him, won’t fix him, you’ll still stay, to hold those pieces so gently, so tenderly in your hands, you’ll still protect those fragments and keep them from shattering further, you’ll still give them the affection and devotion they need, the affection and devotion they deserve. Because you love every part of him, even the bad ones, even the shards with jagged edges that cut into the soft flesh of your palms every time you caress them.

Because you accept him wholeheartedly, flaws and all, and that’s—he’s never experienced anything like that before, this unlimited, unreserved, unquestioning love. And although he doesn’t know how to say this, isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to find the right words to communicate it, he’s beginning to learn that unfamiliar doesn’t always mean bad; that sometimes, it’s okay—it’s good—to be vulnerable. He’s beginning to learn that with you, in the warmth of your shitty little apartment, with the stove that only has two functioning burners and the fridge that’s perpetually too cold, he can be, without judgement, without fear, without trepidation.

Because you are his only salvation, and he wouldn’t trade this for the goddamn world.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi #todoroki touya #dabi fluff #dabi angst #aaaah this HURT #anyway big big big thank yous to mister for helping me come up with what we think dabi's favourite food would be #HAPPY BIRTHDAY DABIIIIIII

1K notes · View notes

hiddleyheh · 2 years

Note

Naruto fic recs?

Anon.

Do you know what you have just wrought upon me?

List under cut

Fair warning: It's long :)

I'll be honest, I had no idea how to organize this while making this, so if you're looking for a trope, just ctrl+f or something sdfjlsdf

Gen Kakashi-centric fics:

Renegade by @/pbjamas - Teen - Multi-chap - Complete- Graphic depictions of violence, Major character death - Gen - Missing-Nin Kakashi, Whump Kakashi, ANBU Kakashi

(Mind archive warnings) Wanna watch Kakashi literally lose everything at the age of 19? Yeah? hah, me too, watch him get the shit beat out of him and nearly die like 3 times in this fic <3

A Little Blood Never Hurt Anyone by @/depressedhatakekakashi - Mature - One-shot - Author chose not to use archive warnings, Blood, Gore, Torture, Disassociation, Electrocution, Breaking bones, Minor character death - Mentioned Kkg - Whump Kakashi, ANBU Kakashi, Hurt barely any comfort

(Mind content warnings and archive warning) Kakashi gets captured on a mission gone very wrong and has no choice but to endure until he either dies or help arrives. One of my favorite whump fics that I like to go back to.

Legacy of a God Long Forgotten by @/thesaintraphael - General Audiences - Multi-chap - Indefinite Hiatus - Graphic depictions of violence, Cannibalism, Blood and gore, Manipulation - MinaKushi - Hatake clan lore & headcanons, Everyone lives

(Mind tags) What if the Hatake clan was blessed by gods, a teensy, little more unhinged (just a tiny bit), and a lot more powerful? This fic explores that and man is it good

Shadows, Blinding by Pesto - General - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Creator chose not to use archive warnings - Gen - Hatake clan lore, Family secrets, Dog-teeth Kakashi

(Mind tags) Kakashi dies and wakes up in a valley full of people that have familar hair and eyes.

Peak "everyone is hiding something" vibes. When the author tagged family secrets, they weren't kidding. Everything is layered and Kakashi is trying to get back to his kids while also trying not to succumb his clan traits.

I love the Hatake Ocs in this fic. Akio is such an asshole, I love him. Nana is scary sjdjsjd

Year of the Ghost by scrappybook - Teen - Multi-chap - Ongoing - No archive warnings apply - Gen - Canon divergence, Greif/mourning, Anbu Kakashi, Slice of life

Kakashi retires shortly after the Kyuubi attacks the village. Two words: Farmer Kakashi. For all the domesticity in this fic, I love how Kakashi is still involved in politics. Also him innovating Fuuinjutsu for domestic use instead of combat,,,, waa I love when fics explore that.

Wolf-Nin by Scribulus - Mature - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Graphic depictions of violence - Eventual Kakashi/Zabuza, MinaKushi - Time travel, Wolf-instincts, Cannibalism, Blood and gore, Body horror, Good Orochimaru

(Mind Content warnings and tags) Kakashi dies 36, wakes up in his 6 year old body, and decides he's going to drastically change the fate of his village. Canid summoning contract my beloved, Kakashi goes absolutely feral in this fic and it's glorious. Featuring Mentor!Orochimaru :D

Team Minato-centric Fics:

Alone No More by Emily Violet - Teen - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Graphic depictions of violence, Child abuse - Gen - Misunderstandings, Hatake clan lore, Team Minato as family, Major character injury

An exploration of what if Kakashi was hated by the village similarly to how Naruto was treated? Except now, Hatake clan lore is at play.

And other things Kakashi did not hallucinate by cyan96 - Teen - One-shot - No archive warnings apply - Gen - Kind of crack treated seriously, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Jinchuuriki Nohara Rin

Kakashi thinks he's hallucinating his dead teammates that occasionally stop by and make sure he's self-caring. Idk how a fic can be so funny yet so gut-wrenchingly sad, but this managed to do it and it's great. I go back to this once in a while because I love this concept sm

chasing visions of our futures by @/kirpyee - Teen - Multi-chap - Complete - No archive warnings apply - Obkk - Anbu Kakashi, Anbu Obito, Anbu Rin, Jinchuuriki Nohara Rin, Hurt/comfort

Kushina is put in charge of taking care of the aftermath of Team 7. *holds this au gently* ah I wanted to sucker punch Danzou in the jaw soooo badly while reading this. It was marvelous <3 Also Bamf!Kushina and Minato facing the consequences of his inactions (he's still learning) my beloved

the dog who dies is the one who is mourned by hallowed nebulae - Teen - One-shot - Major character death - Obkk, implied Kagumo - Self-esteem issues, Graphic character death, Minato is a bad teacher (He tried though)

(Mind archive warnings and tags) MMMM this fic made me cry real tears and I loved every heart-stabbing moment of it. Sometimes I like to go back to it just to make my heart go aaaaa

Before the Morning Comes by myadamantiumheart - Explicit - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Graphic depictions of violence - KkObiRin- Jinchuuriki Nohara Rin, Running away, Uzushiogakure, Team Minato as family, Rin-centric

Fic summary: Or, the one where Team Seven runs away and builds a better world on their own. I have no idea how to word my thoughts to describe the sheer amount of love I have this fic. All that I can say is that these kids are just kids and deserve a break and oh my god does this fic deliver. Also, the politics is top-tier.

To Be Given A Second Chance (God, We Didn't Ask for This) by why is this a thing now - Teen - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Graphic depictions of violence - Gen - Time Travel Fix-It, Team Minato as family

After passing, reconciling, and accidentally being given a second chance, Kakashi, Obito, and Rin are once again alive and are going to change their fate and future. This is part of the let's do teh time warp again series by the same author. I also recommend reading Akatuski no Tobi - The Fuckening 1 and 2. It's the same au, now further in the timeline with KkObiRin and it's hilarious.

the rabbit child who danced in the moonflower fields by Digi Noir, hallowed nebulae - Teen - Multi-chap - Discontinued - Creators chose not to use archive warnings - Obkk, Past Kagumo - Hatake clan lore, Hatake clan is from Uzushiogakure, Worldbuilding, Self-hatred, Panic attacks, Nonbinary Kakashi

I recommend reading the fic summary, if I even try to remotely summarize it, I'll have several paragraphs. This is an incredibly interesting take on the Hatake clan and I absolutely love it. Kakashi is not only carrying the burden of his father's death but also the culture of his clan and the lasting effects of colonization from the Uzumaki clan, physically and mentally.

nothing lasts by @/kirpyee - Mature - Multi-chap - Complete - Graphic depictions of violence, Major character death - Obkk, MinaKushi - Human experimentation, Anbu Kakashi, Root, Torture

(Mind content warnings and tags) Danzo captures Kakashi and has old genes from his clan resurfaced. Ah, hurt no comfort my beloved. SJDNFKJADF SCREAMING AND CRYING Team Minato does not get a break in this fic and ahg my heart </3 Some people also made alternative endings, I recommend go reading them as well :D

Team Seven-centric Fics:

And So, The Sensei Supports His Students by ihopethelightwillshineupon - General - Multi-chap - Complete - No Content Warnings - Gen - Team as Family, 5+1 fic

A series of disconnected stories with Team 7 from different ages as they all grow and Kakashi tries to be a supportive teacher, its really cute :]

How to Make a Team by Pleasedial123 - No rating - Series (Incomplete) - 2 completed multi-chap works - Creator chose not to use archive warnings, Canon-typical violence - Gen - Kakashi is a good teacher, Team as family, Medic-nin Uchiha Sasuke, Bamf!Sakura, worldbuilding, politics

Just typing out the name of this series has me all giddy in my seat. Kakashi decides to take his grief and the reflections of his old team and motivate himself to stop history from repeating itself. The worldbuilding, headcanons, and characterization are all phenomenal. If you are looking for a good Team 7 as family series, I cannot recommend this enough.

Theif-Nin Sakura by Hemerodromus - Mature - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Graphic depictions of violence, Major character death - SakuIno - Bamf!Sakura, Sakura-centric, Chakra theory, Kakashi is a good teacher, Politics, Kakashi becomes Sakura's mentor

While cleaning the corpses off the bridge (read: corpse looting), Sakura finds a scroll to Haku's kekkei genkai. And so the Copy-Cat teaches the Klepto-Kitten Honestly the idea that kekkei genkai can be replicated with super fine chakra control is so galaxy brain and I love this concept sm.

Dance of the Dog by Tartarun ff.net ao3 - General audiences - Multi-chap - Ongoing - No archive warnings apply, Canon-typical violence - Gen - Sensei Obito, Missing-nin Kakashi, Rin lives, Bamf!Sakura, Team 7 as family, Politics, Everyone is lying, Empty graves

Fic Summary: "Kakashi loved Konoha a little less and his father a bit more. What happens next changes the face of history. However, Team 7's destiny years later is still wrapped with the silver-haired man's and an intricate dance begins." Fic is being edited and uploaded to Ao3, but ff.net has more chapters. THIS FIC. I cannot put into words how much this fic makes me froth at the mouth and make me want to commit 20 different felonies. Everything is so interconnected, character interactions and dialogues are heavily loaded and the sub-text is so tasty. You never truly know what the character's motivations are, what they are hiding, and how they are using others around them. Everyone is lying and eventually, everything happens at once. If you want to know how fucking good this fic is, even though the summary outright tells you Kakashi is alive, how the author presents it, it's nearly impossible to tell if it's Kakashi or not if you haven't read it. And in terms of the narrative? That makes sense. The characters can't tell if Kakashi is even alive or if that is Sakumo, or someone else completely.

Everyone is morally grey and using each other and It Is So Good.

Hellbent by LuckySeven - Mature - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Graphic depictions of violence - SakuNaru, IruKaka, InoMari - Missing-nin Team 7, Fuinjutsu master Sakura, Medic-nin Sasuke, BAMF Naruto, Kakashi is a good teacher, Politics, Team 7 as family

Orochimaru tells Team 7 the truth about Naruto's parents and Sasuke's clan back in the Forest of Death. As a result, the genin decide the village is not for them and Kakashi is there to keep his kids safe. Uzushio rep FUCK YEA. From protective Kakashi to Fuinjutsu and Medical theory, this fic is amazing. There are actual stakes present and what goes on in the shinobi world is not just isolated to Konoha. All of the factors and groups are at play in this fic are incredibly engaging and makes the world seem more active and lively.

It’s Just That Any One of Us Is Half Without Another One Is You by Branch - Mature - Complete - Graphic depictions of violence - SakuNaruSasu - Team 7 as family, Kakashi is a good teacher, Medic-nin Naruto, Spy Sakura, Politics

Itachi stays the villain, Madara has no manipulated minion to do his bidding, and Team 7 is not a repeat of its predecessors. Really nice character exploration that is actually consistent. Kishimoto could never do what this fic did skdfaldf It's so good

Shinobi: Team 7 by Gallyrat - Not rated - Multi-chap - Indefinite hiatus - Gen - Worldbuilding, Politics, AU

An AU where the author completely rebuilds Naruto from the ground up. Naruto's true lineage is properly hidden, Sakura's knowledge in history becomes far more useful, Sasuke is trying to live outside of the shadow cast by his brother. Konoha and all other major hidden villages have a history that is far more intertwined. Power balancing is reasonable and realistic and the author still stays true to canon characterization. Also, Danzo's role as a necessary evil for the good of the village actually makes sense and does justice to his character. (It was this fic that introduced me to the idea of Root Commander!Kakashi, and I've been hooked on it since)

Time travel/Dimension Hopping: (I have a lot of favorites in this type of au, I'm a sucker for this trope <3)

me wa kokoro no kagami; the eyes are the window to the soul by BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse - Mature - Multi-chap - Complete - Creator chose not to use Archive Warnings - Gen - Team 7 as family, body swap, Time travel au

The first work in the Kishikaise series (incomplete), where Team 7 travels back in time. Things go a bit different than what was expected and political shenanigans ensue and Team 7 has to find a way to play with the cards they have been dealt.

Nidaime Otokage by DuskBeforeDawn - Mature - Multi-chap - Incomplete (last updated in 2019) - Graphic depictions of violence - Gen - Team 7 as Family, Team 7 are little shits, Kakashi is a little shit, Kakashi-centric

Kakashi and Team 7 wake up in the past and alternate universe to that of their own. The two groups must now navigate the new world while trying to find each other. It's crack taken seriously, and great.

Once More With Feeling by Chicken Train and Laser Beam - Mature - Multi-chap - Incomplete (Last updated 2019) - Gen - Kakashi-centric, Politics, Time-travel au

Don't let the fact that it's only 5 chapters long and last updated in 2019 fool you. It has 130k+ words and It Is A Fic To Read. If you like unlikely team-ups, I think you'll like Kakashi, Tsunade, and Jiraiya in this fic. The characterization is fucking amazing. The plot? *chefs kiss* Power balancing and character arcs are handled so well AND it has one of The Most Satisfying character death scenes that I have ever read. Just utter the line "Do you deny it?" And I will go ape shit insane at a flip of a switch. The entire time, in that scene, you KNOW Kakashi was playing with his food, only dragging it out for his enjoyment and to make him feel fear. Even better: The authors spent 3 hours getting a whole ass cake with "Ding Dong our problems are gone" in icing to celebrate killing off that character. If that doesn't show you how much love, dedication, and effort is put in this fic and I don't know what will.

Saving the World (On Accident and Through Other People) by xwannaflyx - Teen - Series (Ongoing) - 3 completed works - No archive warnings apply, Canon typical violence - Gen - Kakashi-centric, Sensei Orochimaru

Kakashi goes back in time to save the world with no plan, only to inadvertently do that when Tsunade realizes how much of a hot mess Kakashi and Orochimaru are. I have a huge weak spot for aus where Orochimaru becomes Kakashi's mentor, especially when the both of them are super dysfunctional, out of touch, socially awkward prodigies. They're trying their best <3

Love Will Find You (This Is a Threat) by @/sthene - Mature - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Author chose not to use archive warnings - ObKk, SasuNaru, SakuHina, ItaRin - Team 7 as family, Fairy-tale elements, Mythology, Good!Obito, Slow burn, Kakashi is trying his best, Everyone needs a hug

Infinite Tsukuyomi was set off a bit too early, and Kurama was forced to transport Team 7 to another universe in order to save them. Kakashi, Sakura, Naruto, and Sasuke now are forced to navigate a world so closely alike yet oh so different from their own. All the while, a lot more things seem to be at play.

With the number of times I draw, write theories, scream, yell, cry, or just straight up go ape shit insane about this fic on this blog, how can I not include this fic? Every scene and chapter is so beautifully written and detailed. Not knowing the full story, every detail is loaded; even the imagery is a hint for what is to come (THE FUCKING TREE AND WOLF PUNS). The characterization and headcanons are *Chefs kiss* The angst will make you scream, cry, and you will love every single second of it. Team 7's dynamic is amazing. It's balanced with fluff, and I love Sthene's take of an alternate universe where Team 7 are the ghosts of their loved ones. If you love to overanalyze details, Hatake clan lore, world-building, Japanese mythology, and fairy-tale elements, this fic is for you.

failures to learn from, not dwell on by lavilleons - Not rated - Multi-chap - Incomplete - Author chose not to use archive warnings - Hatake Clan lore

Nara Shikaku and Yamanaka Inoichi die in the Fourth Shinobi War, only to wake up nearly 3 decades earlier and with the knowledge of yet to come. Unsure how to stop the fate of the world, they try to prevent the village's first failure that they can realistically enact at their age: Hatake Sakumo's death.

One of the most unique time-travel fix-it au's I've read in terms of plot. The Hatake clan headcanons are great and I love kid!Kakashi in this fic, he's such a little shit sdflakdfsnlsidf

Wolves of Fire Country by Midnite Republic - Teen - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Creator chose not to use archive warnings, Canon typical violence - Eventual Kakashi/Izuna - Slow burn, Hatake clan lore & headcanons, Team as family, Warring states era

Another mission gone awry, Kakashi and his students find themselves decades in the past and now need to navigate it. Love the Hatake clan history here

Time Waits for No Man by LaughingWombat - Teen - Multi-chap - Complete - No archive warnings apply - MinaKushi - Kakashi-centric, Team Minato as family, Politics, Hurt/comfort

Hokage!Kakashi gets sent back in time from an assassination attempt and finds himself in his 12 year old body. He has no idea whether or not his actions will affect the future he fought and suffered so hard for. I love the conflict in this fic sm. While you would understandably get frustrated by how each character reacts to Kakashi knowing the future, it's understandable. The moral dilemmas and misunderstandings flesh them out so well.

Enemy of the World by Kelakair - Teen - Multi-chap -Ongoing - Creator chose not to use archive warnings, Graphic depictions of violence - Obkk - Dimension hop, Edo tensei, Hatake Sakumo lives

Tobi accidentally ends up in a parallel universe where Sakumo lives and Team Minato is still united; the ideal world. Obito decides to destroy it all.

I am just. a small creture. you must not know how much stress i am in. *chefs kiss* to all the twists and turns

Blinding Loyalty and Bitter Hearts by Myst Marshall - Mature - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Graphic depictions of violence - Major character death - Gen - Body swap, Missing-nin Kakashi, Anbu Root Kakashi, Murder mystery, Revenge, Betrayal

Two Kakashi's from different universes swap I'm a sucker for body swap au, but holy shit the author is swapping two au!Kakashi's. It's incredibly intriguing to find how the same characters differ so much from each other and where that point of divergence begins.

Three's A Crowd (But Pack Sticks Together) by ShiiroiKitsune21 - Multi-chap - Complete - MinaKushi - Canon-typical violence, Jinchuuriki Kakashi, Third Shinobi War, Team Minato as family

Kurama and Kakashi are the last surivors after Kaguya decimated everyone. In a desperate attempt, the two go back in time and Kurama is sealed in 12 year old Kakashi. The writing in the first couple chapters can come off as a bit cheesy, even the author admitted that when they went back and edited it, but when it picks up, oh it picks up. It's one of my favorite comfort long fics to go back and read on, I love how you can see how the author progresses in their writing over time.

buried alive series by @/doggoneloser - Teen - 1 completed, 1 ongoing work - Major character death - Gen - Kakashi-centric, Third Shinobi War, Hurt/comfort, Parallel universes

Kakashi dies during Pein's attack, goes back in time, decides to fix history at the cost of himself. This was the first Kakashi time travel fic I have ever read and MAN did it get me hooked to this trope. An absolute great read that I've gone back to time and time again <3

Crossovers:

scars like wings by hyugesoo - Mature - Multi-chap - Ongoing Graphic depictions of violence - Gen - Child soldiers, Kid fic, Kakashi-centric, Animal instincts

A crossover with the anime, Noragami. The God of War and Calamity, Yato, is reborn into Kakashi.

I'll be honest, I never watched Noragami but the writing does really shine through with Yato's characterization and his past before he became Kakashi. I wasn't as lost to the story of his character. Also, I love the Minato in this fic. He may be a parental figure, but he's still training child soldiers

And the Moon Will Bleed Anew by @/DrDiabolical - Explicit - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Graphic depictions of violence - Gen - Dimensional travel, Blindness, Kakashi is a troll

Jujutsu Kaisen crossover - During the 4th war, Kakashi ends up in the JJK universe Kakashi is a little shit in this fic skdfsldkfa

Road to Nowhere by @/Aerugonian - Teen - Multi-chap - Ongoing - No archive warnings apply - EraserMic - Reincarnation, Kakashi-centric, Identity issues, Hurt/comfort

A BNHA crossover: Kakashi dies in Pein's attack and is reborn as Shinsou Hitoshi. I have never read or watched BNHA, but this au and fic has me HOOKED. Just the idea of Kakashi getting a normal childhood and actually getting the affection and love he never had as a kid is an easy way to get me invested. I also recommend checking out the Road to Nowhere Extended Universe, has a lot of great fics inspired by this au.

it should have buried you by Some Dead Guy - Teen - No archive warnings apply - Obkk, EraserMic - Obito needs a hug

BNHA Crossover au, inspired by Road to Nowhere - Obito is reincarnated as Bakugou Katsuki I am a simple man. If I see Obkk and also inspired by Road to Nowhere, I click. The soft moments though,,, aa

Rotating Clouds by Kazumi123 - Teen - Ongoing - Creator chose not to use archive warnings - SatoSugu - Found Family, Kakashi is a little shit, Satoru is a little shit, Comfort no Hurt

JJK crossover: Gojo accidentally travels to the Naruto universe, causes some property damage, and kidnaps surprise adopts 5 year old Kakashi. I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED AN AU LIKE THIS UNTIL NOW (this fic was posted this week while I was making this list and I went: Oh shit yea, I'm definitely gonna rec this nvkwsflakdsd) Kakashi and Gojo are a force to be reckoned with, poor Suguru didn't sign up for this

White Foams and Grey Skies by kazumi123 - General - Multi-chap - Ongoing - No archive warnings apply - Obkk, Minor KakaNana - Reincarnation, Kakashi-centric, Hurt/comfort

JJK crossover: Kakashi dies in the 4th war, Obito curses him, and ends up as Satoru's older brother. Also, Obito is attached to Kakashi as a dormant curse. It was this fic that pushed me into watching the anime and reading the manga. AAAAA IT'S SO GOOD. I went back so many times rereading the chapters. I love Kakashi and Satoru's brotherly relationship, I love how Kakashi still has to deal with chakra exaustion. I love the worldbuilding and incorporation of chakra and cursed energy sdflakdnsjdhf everything is so gooooooood

IruKaka-centric fics:

Let Me Take Your Coat and This Weight off of Your Shoulders by Hamalama - Teen - One-shot - No archive warnings apply - Fluff and angst, Soft, Hurt/Comfort

A series of scenes where Iruka invites Kakashi over for diner and it grows from there.

The Experimental Subject by HazelBeka - Teen - One-shot - No archive warnings apply, Kidnapping, Consensual human experimentation - Mad scientist Iruka, Villain Iruka, Villain Anko, Villain Tenzo, Seals Master Iruka, Anbu Kakashi, Enemies to lovers

MMMMM I didn't know I need mad scientist Iruka until I read this fic. Also, Anko, Tenzo, and Iruka as a dysfunctional evil found family with Orochimaru as their parental figure is the best and is a concept I absolutely love.

Certain Inconsistencies by Cat42103 - Teen - Multi-chap - Complete - Author chose not to use archive warnings - Time travel, Fake/pretend relationship, Found family

Iruka wakes up in the past, and apparently, Kakashi is with him too. Shenanigans ensue.

guess your trajectory by ohwickedsoul - Teen - Multi-chap - Ongoing - No archive warnings apply - Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Fuuinjutsu, Canon divergence

Iruka adopts Naruto Au and Hound is there :]

ObiKaka-centric fics:

criminals do it better by blackkat - Teen to Explicit - Series - Check tags for content warnings - Past!Obt/Nagato, MdTbm, Gai/Genma, & more - Crack, modern au, Organized crime, Humor

Former terrorist now environmentalist, but secretly the leader of a suicide squad!Obito and Former ranger!Kakashi series, I can't really explain the series, check out the summary for yourself sldkfjsd, it's a good read

komorebi by tomorrowsrain - Teen - Series (incomplete) - 3 completed works, 1 ongoing fic - No archive warnings apply, Canon-typical violence - Team 7 as family, Missing-nin Kakashi, Good Obito, Hurt/comfort

Kakashi and Obito meet in the Kyubi's attack, get exiled from Konoha, and reconcile. This series makes my heart go ah

Sakuoro-centric fics: (Sakumo/Orochimaru)

*Silly SakuOro AUs by blackkat - Teen to Mature - Series - Disconnected Sakuoro one shot aus

This series was my gateway drug to Sakuoro. My favorites are: a thousand miles up and we're about to get higher; pick apart the pieces of your heart, with friends like these; and walk, walk fashion baby

Kagumo/Kakashi is the son of Kaguya fics:

Close My Eyes by LegaciesandMemories - Not rated - One-shot - Creator chose not to use archive warnings, Suicide ideation, Mental health issues - Team 7 as family, Families of choice, Angst with a happy ending

(Mind the tags) This was my first kagumo fic, and I read this before actually knowing there were just straight aliens in the anime, so I was just: huh, I have no idea what is going on but I really like this! And thus my fixation with this one ship was born

A visit, but not to the cemetery by Pinepickled - General - No archive warnings apply - Baby Hatake Kakashi

A short and really cute one-shot where Kakashi gets to meet his mom for the first time. Absolutely adorable aa

Misc:

Dirt and Ashes, or: The One-and-a-Half Body Problem by Tozette - Mature - Multi-chap - Complete Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major character death, Torture, Blood, Gore - Gen - Jashinism, Jashnist Sakura, Dark Comedy, Sakura-centric

(Mind Content and Archive warnings) Fic summary: "The invasion of Konoha during the chuunin exam didn't fail. Team seven is broken, people are dead, and Sakura is hurt and frightened and a very long way from home. Alternative summary: In which Sakura carries half of Hidan across two countries, leaving a trail of blood, bodies, and other people's legs." If you don't mind gore and blood, this fic was a delight to read. So many heart-wrenching moments but this concept was so interesting. F to Team 7 tho.

Pink Fang by Avulle - Teen - Multi-chap - Ongoing - Graphic depictions of violence - Gen - Sakura-centric, Kakashi is a good teacher, Chakra theory, Bamf!Sakura, Politics, Sakura is a little shit

Fic summary: "One day, after a particularly unpleasant failure of a mission, Kakashi takes a detour through the civilian quarter of Konoha and stumbles on a little pink-haired civilian girl who performs a flawless transformation technique with the wrong set of hand seals." The chakra theory and headcanons are mmmmm so tasty and crunchy. I love Sakura's and Kakashi's dynamic in the fic. Small feisty child bullies her teacher. It sure does escalate quickly And I love it.

Celestial Bodies and Anomalies by @/digitalta - Gen to Teen - Series - Ongoing - 2 completed works - Graphic depictions of violence - Gen - Uchiha Clan lore, Fictional Theology, Time travel, Sasuke-centric

I can't really do justice to this series trying to summarize it and put into words how much I love it. The arcs, the symbolism, the character dynamics, headcanons. I could on and on and never truly describe how much I love it. But ahg the writing is so fucking good. All around kudos to the worldbuilding, it's a wonder to read. Also 10/10 characterizations and interactions. I love Shuisi in this sklfjaldlsidf

The Soldier by panda_shi - Explicit - Ongoing - Graphic depictions of violence, Conditioning, Trauma, Blood and gore, Starvation, Isolation, Pet death, Dark themes - Gen - Anbu Root, Tenzou-centric

(Mind content warning and tags) ROOT worldbuilding my beloved. If you don't mind dark themes that this fic will explore, then you will love the angst in this. POOR TENZOU AHG AND GHFGNGHFGN THE HEADCANONS. THE DOG. OH GOD NOT THE DOG AAAAAAA This fic inspired some of my headcanons for TCASH

#naruto #heh is answering #fic rec #holy shit i read a lot of fics #tbh i prob haven listed all the fics i want to rec #if my brain suddenly remembers one ill reblog. this post sjdhs

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sierraraeck · 3 years

Text

Control

JJ x John B

Masterlist

Summary: JJ likes losing control, and there is no one safer he can do that with than his boyfriend, John B. But after a particularly awful week, JJ just needs something he can be in control of.

Category: Smut, angst

Warnings: Cussing/slurs, JJ’s home life so abuse and violence, allusion to sexual abuse, rough sex, choking, safe word used. Look, this gets dark, so this is your warning.

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: I agree with a lot of other people that in their relationship, John B is usually the dominant one because JJ likes losing control, but I’m convinced that after a really fucking bad week, he just loses it and needs something he can control. This is what I imagine that would look like.

•••

It had been a bad week. It felt never ending, getting roughed up by the Kooks, running from the cops, taking the fall for Pope, and now this.

If you keep going down this road, you’re going to end up just like your dad.

Maybe his best friend, and within the last year or so his boyfriend, was right. Maybe he, and everyone else on the island who constantly reminded him of his blood, was right. Maybe he was destined to be a complete fuck up with no future other than three cement walls and a grid of bars. Not like JJ’d ever imagined his life going any differently.

We’re sick of your shit.

Those were the words echoing in his head as his feet made the decision before his mind did.

You are a worthless piece of shit.

He remembered something Pope had told him once, that the brain can’t differentiate between the truth and something that has been repeated to you over and over.

You’ll be back here one day. You good for nothing piece of shit, that’s why your mamma left. Stay down, boy. I don’t care where you’ve been. Really living up to your name, Maybank. You’re just like your daddy. Fucking bastard. Worthless.

Must be true, right? If everyone is saying it, including the only people he’s ever really thought cared about him, it must be true.

As he opened the door to the run down shack, he already knew what he’d see, but a shutter of fear still raced down his spine. His dad was sitting on the couch, all kinds of beer and pill bottles scattered around him.

“What the hell you doing back here, boy?” the gruff voice of JJ’s nightmares asked.

“Dad, I-”

“The least your worthless ass could do is get me a beer.”

JJ complied, because, what else was he going to do? Weak.

As he walked over to his dad, the smell of beer was overwhelming. It always was, but the smell seemed stronger than he remembered. His dad's tolerance must be higher than it was a few weeks ago.

“Open it,” Luke demanded.

JJ tried, he really did, but his hands were shaking too damn much. Come on, don’t be such a pussy.

Apparently he couldn’t do it fast enough, so Luke ripped the bottle out of his hands, causing it to shatter on the floor. JJ flinched at the sound.

“What are you, retarded? Can’t even open one goddamned bottle!”

JJ didn’t even try to duck. He felt Luke’s knuckle make contact with his cheekbone, head whipping to the side. We’re sick of your shit, JJ.

“Dad-”

“Don’t fucking beg you weak, worthless piece of shit!”

Flames enveloped his gut, followed by another fire lit over his ribs. We don’t want you around.

The voice he was hearing sounded an awful lot like John B’s.

“Fucking pathetic! Just like your mother!” JJ was on the floor now, not completely able to remember how he got there. As his body screamed in pain with each new kick, his mind was getting farther and farther away from where he was.

Our lives would be better without you in it. I would be so much happier if I had a boyfriend who wasn’t such a burden, such a fuck up. Someone without so many fucking issues.

He could feel the blood dripping down his face and leg, but refused to make himself consciously aware of it.

This is what you deserve, JJ.

This is what you deserve.

•••

Twenty-eight hours. That’s how long it’d been since John B last saw JJ. The moment he walked out the door John B kicked himself for it.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually said that to JJ. ‘You’re going to end up just like your dad.’ He couldn’t think of a worse thing to say to JJ.

It’d overall been a shit week, and John B knew that he was sleep deprived and irritable from everything that’d gone on, not like that was any excuse for what he’d done.

As time ticked by, John B just kept going over everything he’d done wrong in the past week.

You’re going to end up just like your dad. We’re sick of your shit.

Not to mention the time he grabbed JJ by the collar of his shirt and shoved him up against the wall. The way JJ flinched and seemed to shrink into himself, immediately casting his eyes down, was an image John B couldn’t get out of his head. He knew better than to touch JJ without explicitly asking or giving him plenty of forewarning, let alone grab him out of nowhere while he was angry.

God, JJ looked so scared in that moment, and John B couldn’t even believe he’d just made the person he cared about most in the world feel threatened by him. And JJ didn’t even look like he’d fight back. He looked like he was bracing himself, ready to take whatever harm was to come to him.

JJ put so much trust in John B, letting him be in control of their most intimate time together. JJ once told him that he felt the most safe when he was around John B, and he heard all of the words not said in that one sentence. I trust you. I trust you to have power over me, emotionally and physically. I trust you enough to be vulnerable, knowing that I won’t get hurt. Knowing that you won’t hurt me.

And John B felt like within the span of a week, he’d destroyed all of that.

Just come home, just come home, just come home. Please, JJ, just come back to me.

The sun was starting to set, and John B was getting even more antsy. They’d never had a fight that kept JJ away for longer than a day or so, which meant that John B already knew where JJ was, even though he didn’t want to believe it.

Shit, shit, shit…

John B headed toward the door of the chateau, flinging it open on a mission to save JJ when he looked up.

Oh thank god.

JJ was standing on his porch, hand clutching his side and a couple butterfly bandages over his eyebrow and cheek. His shirt was torn, displaying the three developing bruises John B could see, meaning there were probably at least twice as many he couldn’t see.

John B’s mouth was hanging open, stopped dead in his tracks, unable to find the words to tell JJ how sorry he was and how much he wished he could’ve been better and how-

But his train of thought was cut off when JJ took two big strides towards him, smashing their lips together like it was the only thing keeping him alive. His hands were gripping onto John B’s sides, wadding up the cloth in his fists, and moved the pair of them back into the chateau, kicking the door shut with his foot.

JJ backed John B into the nearest wall, the intensity of the kiss momentarily distracting John B from the bigger situation at hand. JJ tugged John B’s shirt up, helping him out of it.

As they parted to remove the garment, John B tried to get JJ’s attention. “JJ-”

He didn’t let him get any more words out, though, pressing their lips back together the moment he could.

John B knew that JJ had a lot of pent up anger toward his father, toward the kooks, toward the world. He knew that JJ put on a show of being powerful, untouchable, even. JJ wanted others to think he was always in complete control, and while unhinged at times, a force to be reckoned with. JJ wanted others to think he was strong, and John B knew that was because of how frequently he was told he was weak.

John B thought JJ was as tough as they came. He was sure that if anyone else had been dealt the hand JJ had, they’d be doing a hell of a lot worse, and was impressed by his boyfriend on the daily.

But John B always thought JJ was the strongest when he was the most vulnerable, when he was with him, making this new dominant side of JJ concerning. JJ liked losing control and letting his guard down when he was with John B, letting John B take the lead. Right now, though, JJ was putting his walls back up, the tough act coming out. That’s how John B knew shit had really gotten bad, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for it.

John B tried again, “JJ.” He got the same reaction he did the first time, a non answer. John B delicately placed his hands on JJ’s shoulders, creating just a few inches of space between them as he finally got his attention. “JJ, JJ, slow down. I’ve been worried about you. What is going on, what hap-”

“John B,” JJ cut him off with a low, abnormally calm voice. John B stared in silence, growing even more concerned and confused by the look of intensity in his eyes. “Shut up.”

John B knew that at the end of the day, he’d do whatever JJ asked of him, but it didn’t stop him from trying to get more information. “JJ, I just-”

“Please,” JJ almost pleaded, gazing deep into his eyes. “Give me tonight.” John B stared at his boyfriend for a few more seconds before nodding his head. “Tell me if things get too-”

“I know,” John B assured, remembering the safe word they’d established early on in their relationship, South, and the one time JJ had to use it. He’d had a panic attack, mumbling something about a flashback, but John B had never gotten anything more than that.

With the green light, JJ slipped his tongue back into John B’s mouth, cool rings on his hand pressing into his neck, using his body to push John B back against the wall.

JJ was running his hands all over John B’s exposed chest, John B slowly moving his hands up to place on JJ’s waist. The moment he made the slightest contact though, JJ flinched away, grabbing both of his wrists and pinning them to the wall.

His grip was unfaltering, and stronger than usual, and JJ held his wrists there as he started kissing down John B’s body, pausing to suck and graze his teeth over a few spots.

Reaching the waistband of John B’s shorts, JJ moved his grip from John B’s wrists in order to yank his shorts and underwear down. John B’s hands started to tingle, unaware until just then that JJ had been gripping so tight it started cutting off blood flow.

JJ, now on his knees, started pumping his hand slowly up and down John B’s half-hard shaft, the contact sending a shiver down his spine.

At one point, John B couldn’t stop the small jerk of his hips toward JJ, which was the wrong thing to do, as JJ’s crushing grip was back, both hands holding onto his hips and slamming them back into the wall. JJ resorted to using his mouth instead, lips wrapping around the tip and hollowing his cheeks. John B tossed his head back, harder than he intended, making a somewhat painful contact with the wall. JJ started bobbing his head up and down at a faster pace, only breaking contact once to wet two of his fingers which he circled around John B’s hole.

John B could see the contractions of JJ’s biceps, and almost felt his fingers shaking against him. He was confused at first about what it meant, but soon figured out that he was holding back. JJ had always been the dominant one in his flings with girls, but had never been in this position with John B before. He could tell that JJ wasn’t going as far as he wanted to, that he was restraining himself from taking what he wanted.

John B wanted to know everything that JJ had to give, and acknowledged, in almost a challenge-like way, “You’re holding back on me.”

Within a flash, JJ stood up, threading his fingers through John B’s hair to yank his head back, his other hand keeping it’s harsh grip on his hip. John B whimpered at the sensations.

Looking down on him, JJ demanded, “Is that not what you want?”

John B thought it wasn’t, but seeing him now, and knowing how much darkness he has, there was a fraction of a second where he wanted to change his mind. But the second passed and John B still wanted to see all of JJ, every dark and twisted corner, everything he hadn’t seen before. And he could tell that it was taking a lot of effort for JJ to restrain himself, too much effort. John B wanted him to let go.

He shook his head, voice coming out as only a small whisper, “It’s not what you want either.”

It was like flipping a switch. With force, JJ dragged him by his hair to the bedroom, and once inside, threw John B onto the mattress.

It felt a little unfair, John B completely exposed in front of JJ while he still had his shorts and shirt on. It was getting dark now, the sun having completely set over the water, leaving only the light of twilight to illuminate JJ’s face as he climbed over John B.

He quickly coated his fingers with the lube from the bedside table before shoving them into John B. With his other hand, JJ was tugging his own shorts down and reached for a condom. He had to remove his fingers from John B to put it on, causing John B to squirm in his absence.

Without any forewarning, and barely any time to adjust, JJ was pushing into John B, drawing a small whine from his kiss-swollen lips.

JJ set a bruising pace, leaving John B gasping for air. “JJ-” he choked out.

“Is this what you wanted?” JJ hissed, hand snaking up to wrap around John B’s throat. “You wanted to see just how fucked up I am?”

JJ’s grip was getting tighter, his pace faster, as he kept talking. “Well, Maybanks are only good for one thing, so you’re right. I will end up just like him some day. I already am like him. A fucked up monster.”

“J, no, that’s not-” John B started to say, as he reached a hand up to grab JJ’s wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” JJ yelled. John B removed his hand like he’d been burned. “Don’t you get it? I ruin everything I touch!”

John B’s face was starting to flush, his head getting fuzzy. He could only concentrate on the cool rings digging into his neck and the words JJ was saying, sounding farther and farther away.

“Have you ever experienced death before?” JJ whispered like a threat next to his ear. “Because I have. I can show you.”

“Jayj-” John B pleaded, using his last reserve of breath. “S..so-south.”

And just like that, JJ was off him, backing himself against a wall as far away from John B as possible. John B took a deep, shuddering breath and swallowed, closing his eyes until the fuzziness in his head subsided.

When he felt like he could think again, he sat up and looked around the room for JJ. He was crouched in a dark corner of the room, head in his hands, knees trying to block his face.

“JJ,” John B said with a scruffy voice, standing up to walk over to his boyfriend. He slid down the wall until he was seated next to JJ, sure to leave enough room for him to move without touching him. JJ curled into himself even more, leaning away from John B. “JJ, please look at me.”

JJ did as he asked, alluring blue eyes shimmering with tears, a dramatic difference from the dark, intense orbs of only a few seconds before.

“I’m okay,” John B assured.

JJ shook his head, eyes roaming over his hands, and hiccupped, “I hurt you.”

“You didn’t, I promise. I’m okay, I’m right here,” John B told him.

JJ’s eyes were panicked as he scanned over John B’s body. John B followed his gaze, evaluating the already forming marks on his hips and wrists. He was sure that JJ’d left a handprint on his neck, too, which was where JJ’s gaze lingered the longest. “No. I hurt you. I need to leave.”

JJ stood up, making a noise of discomfort as he did so, and hurried toward the door. John B was behind him in an instant and put his hand on the door. JJ stopped in his tracks, taking a step back from John B and looked back at the ground.

JJ was shutting down, John B knew that, and he knew that he had to reach him fast before he went completely under. “JJ,” John B whispered, “Can I… Can I touch you?”

JJ didn’t answer, but he didn’t back away or say no. John B slowly raised his arm, hovering his hand before JJ. “Is this going to be okay?”

JJ nodded, and before John B could fully process it, JJ was throwing himself into his arms, clinging to him like he never had before. He started sobbing, forehead pressed against his chest, and John B couldn’t hold back the tears that slipped down his own cheeks.

“How can anyone ever trust me if I can’t even be trusted around you?” JJ choked out. John B wasn’t sure if he’d heard him right, because he was speaking so quietly, but he thought he heard him ask ‘how can I trust myself?’

John B walked the two of them backwards toward the bed, sitting down as gently as possible. He attempted to pull away from JJ, but JJ held onto him. Tilting JJ’s head up, he pressed a kiss to his forehead, then promised, “I’ll be right back.”

John B walked over to put on a new pair of boxers before grabbing the first aid kit, and returned to where JJ was on the corner of the mattress. He lifted JJ’s shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

It hadn’t been this bad in a while. There were four purple, fist-sized bruises littering JJ’s torso, a yellowish one on the back of one of his shoulder blades, and a cut along the top of JJ’s shoulder down his tricep, not to mention the cuts he’d already bandaged himself over his eyebrow and cheek. John B coaxed JJ out of his shorts, which displayed something even worse.

There was a giant stack of gauze covered by a poor wrap job below JJ’s hip, reaching down the side of his thigh. “J… what… what happened?”

“He uh… he um… uh,” JJ trailed off, swiping at his nose. John B stayed silent, giving JJ time to put the words together in his head. “He called me… he said I was a dirty fag and that anyone who wanted to be with me was lying and using me because who would ever actually want to be around me? And then he made me…” JJ shuddered out a sigh and shook his head. “And then he tore his beer can in half and jammed it into my leg.”

“And you tried to bandage this up by yourself?” John B asked, concern dripping from every word. They both heard the real question, ‘You didn’t come to me?’

JJ shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought… I thought you might be getting tired of having to deal with this.” Having to deal with me.

“I will never get tired of being around you,” John B guaranteed. To emphasize his point, John B placed a kiss on JJ’s lips, then both his cheeks, his closed eyelids, down his neck. “I love you, JJ. There will never be a moment when that is not true.” Kissing across JJ’s cut shoulder and down his shoulder blade, John B felt him start to relax. He brushed his lips as delicately as he could over the bruises he found there, then traveled down his torso to do the same. “I love every inch of you. Every corner of your mind.”

“That’s the cheesiest shit I’ve ever heard,” JJ said with a small laugh.

John B smiled, looking up at JJ through his eyelashes. “I know. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

JJ brought John B up to kiss him, a finger under his chin, pulling him as close as he could.

When they parted, JJ whispered, “I love you too.”

They stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at each other with small smiles for a while before John B said, “Let’s get you patched up.”

•••

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought, feedback is appreciated. :)

Find me on AO3 at the same username.

#jj outer banks #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj x john b #outer banks #jj maybank x john b #john b routledge #outer banks imagine #obx #jj obx #john b obx #obx imagine #jj maybank #john booker routledge #john b outer banks #smut #angst

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aftgficrec · 3 years

Text

@deathdorito said: For Raven Neil enjoyers i recomend Innominate by Major_816 - Neil starts off as a raven and from there he makes it to the foxes and alll that jazz

‘Innominate’ opens with Nathaniel Wesninski inhabiting his Alex persona, but not on the run like you might expect. He’s actually on the prowl. His eyes are butcher blue and his blond wig itches. The short while he’ll spend as Alex doesn’t justify a bleach job this time. He’s a friendly guy with photos of his hotel-industry family, unshakable documentation, known dietary preferences, and mannerisms practiced and polished down to a heartthrob smile that’s bigger on the left side.

Nathaniel’s hierarchy of loyalty puts Ichirou Moriyama and Jean Moreau at the top. Ichirou is favorite son and next in line to lead his family’s crime syndicate. Jean was sold to the Moriyamas as a child. Together they are family; brothers forged in blood. Only they and one other know him as Abram, his core identity that he’s fought to hold through a grizzly childhood as both carved and carver. Abram’s been terrorized and trained his whole life by his father, the Butcher of Baltimore, a bloody enforcer for the Moriyamas. The Family holds Abram’s second tier of loyalty with the noted exception being his machinations to disempower and kill their Butcher.

Abram is richly detailed, fractured and complex; plagued with debilitating nightmares and flashbacks, determined to hold on to his humanity but sometimes losing himself entirely to a persona more lethal than the Butcher who raised him. Now he’s been tasked to go deep undercover to shore up problems in the world of college exy where the Family has a vested interest. Jean has been undercover with Edgar Allan University’s team for 3 years. He reports on the Family’s weak link, lesser son Riko Moriyama. As Riko grows increasingly violent and unhinged, Jean gets quieter. Ichirou and Abram know something is wrong. To them Jean is a brother. To Riko he is property, a convenient target for abuse.

As Neil Josten, Abram’s mission is to infiltrate Palmetto State’s underdog exy team, to work out exactly what Riko is doing to Jean and extract him if need be, and to decide if Palmetto’s newly acquired star player Kevin Day is a loose end better off dead. As Day rebounds from a near career-ending secret attack by Riko, he remains a target for the lesser brother’s jealous rage that threatens to bring unwanted attention to the Family. Abram’s also determined to unravel what power beyond Riko tampered with goalie Andrew Minyard’s medical and psychiatric records and swayed a court to keep him medicated out of his mind. He needs to keep Andrew from looking too closely at the house of cards underpinning the identity of unknown exy prodigy Neil Josten, despite their eyes locking time and time again and the unshakeable feeling that they are somehow the same.

Ichirou is humanized and emotive; married with a baby on the way, protective of his chosen brothers, concerned for his father’s failing health, not quite ready to wear the crown. Jean fought back as a child and Abram suffered for it. What hurts is he hiding now? How will the brothers bring down the Butcher? Buckle up for the ride, y’all. I highly recommend investing in this story if you can handle the trauma and violence, it’s shaping up to be a stunner. Thanks very much for the rec! - A

Innominate by Major_816 [Rated E, 73397 words, Incomplete, Updated September 2021]

An AU where Mary never got Nathaniel out. Instead, he became too invaluable of an asset to be killed off or 'gifted' to Tetsuji. Instead, he's raised with Ichirou and Jean as a part of Ichirou's inner circle.

He'd always had a knack for languages and lying and all the 'messy stuff' came easily enough when your father is called the Butcher of Baltimore. So Nathaniel became the Wraith. He was untraceable, unknowable, infalliable; a criminal fairytale.

When Kevin Day leaves the Nest, there's no better person to send.

"Who the hell are you?" Andrew demanded.

He wasn't anyone, not really; not anymore. He hadn't really been anyone in years now. There'd been a time. Once. But there were entire lifetimes between who he could have been and what he'd become. He could taste it sometimes; blackberries and sand stinging his tongue like the iron branded on his shoulder.

It was easier to pretend he'd never been anyone at all.

"I'm nothing," he answered. the ghost of a smile pulled at his lips; sharp and cruel. "A wraith." The Wraith, he didn't say, but the shadows ran through Adnrew's eyes and he wondered if Andrew had heard it anyways.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: graphic nightmares, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: blood/gore, tw: referenced flaying, tw: graphic description of corpses, tw: murder, tw: canonical character death, tw: flashbacks, tw: victim blaming, tw: panic attacks, tw: child abuse, tw: abuse, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: kidnapping, tw: alcohol, tw: dissociation

NB: There are also bonus scenes for this fic!

adj. not named or classified by Major_816 [Not Rated, 11267 words, Incomplete, Updated September 2021]

Bonus Scenes and alternate POVs from Innominate; including previous missions of the Four Horsemen, Abram as a kid, lots of foreign countries, and a lot of chaos.

tw: drugs, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: kidnapping, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence, tw: murder, tw: torture, tw: child abuse, tw: child trafficking, tw: animal abuse & death, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: gun violence, tw: knife violence, tw: blood

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lokilickedme · 3 years

Text

Somebody help me chill, this is insane.

(under the cut because long and also pretty traumatic, for me at least)

Crazy neighbor, remember her? Her son destroyed a piece of equipment we had attached to one of our trees at the fenceline last week, she denied it and called us insane liars - that’s the most recent craziness in the ongoing saga of the neighbor from hell. I was sitting here reading my dash tonight and happened to glance over at the monitor for the surveillance camera husband got me the other day to watch that exact spot (where the equipment was smashed) and guess who I see bent over looking through the fence peering very closely at that exact spot? Neighbor’s equally insane son, who we know did the actual dirty work. And I, stupid like I am, took a screenshot of him and then immediately jumped up and ran outside in the dark in my pajamas (nearly 9pm, pitch black, their porch light is off because obviously they’re doing something they don’t want to be seen doing) and I ask “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

This lunatic immediately starts SCREAMING at me - I mean top of his lungs SCREAMING abusive threats, calling me a stupid psycho whore bitch, yelling at me to get my ass back in my house and generally just acting completely off his rocker unhinged nuts - and then his mother comes out and comes over to the fence and gets in my face while I’m just standing there and tells me to mind my own business. I say I am minding my business, I saw him looking through the fence at my property right where we had vandalism happen last week so I came out to find out why he’s interested in my property. She laughed in my face and said “No he wasn’t, he was standing right here looking at his phone like this” and she does this little pantomine of someone looking at their phone, which is funny because she wasn’t out there when he was doing it and there are no windows on that side of her house at all. I ignored her and asked “What are you looking for?” He kept screaming incoherent animal noises and insults from behind her so I asked again, “What are you looking for?” And that crazy woman grinned at me and said “We’re just looking to see what kind of new devices you’ve installed!”

OMG. She didn’t even take a breath in between lying and then contradicting her own lie. And she’s grinning smugly at me the entire time, gesturing around pointing at our property cams and mosquito light (it flashes and apparently she thinks it’s watching her) and my bedroom window - which means she’s been snooping. There is a cam sitting in my windowsill, aimed at the spot where the device was smashed. Every bit of this equipment is on our property, some of it behind a privacy fence. I tell her it’s none of her business what kind of devices we’ve got on our property, but she just yammers over me, and of course numbskull is still ranting like a psycho behind her, screaming at me to mind my own business and get back in my house and leave them alone. At this point he’s pulled out his phone and shoved it over her shoulder toward my face and is recording me, which is just...fucking hilarious...because I’m literally doing nothing but standing there in shock and awe at how nuts these people are, and he’s still screaming abusive curses and names at me while he’s recording.

Anyway, for about 4.5 minutes we stood there with them shouting over me (I know the exact time because it was later discovered that our doorbell cam recorded audio of the entire event) and a little ways into it he screams “I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!”

At this point psycho woman finally turns around and says “Addison Case!” and pushes him back. He lunges at me and she tells him to go call the police (??what?? I mean...I wish he had...my phone was in my hand frozen solid, locked up because of the glitchy surveillance app I had to install to see the camera, or else I would have called them myself - but my god they really thought I was the one the cops needed to come for??). Meanwhile I’m just standing there on my own property in the dark in my pajamas, all 5 feet and 120 lbs of me, while this rabid animal - he’s a 21 year old college boy - is lunging at me and screaming nonstop, calling me a fucking whore bitch loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear it while his phone’s camera light is in my face blinding me. Crazy lady smiles that smug shit eating grin of hers and tells me to get back in my house, leave her alone, and move the hell away so she can live in peace.

Wow. Just...holy shit.

This is the person who has allowed her dog to attack my very small 8 year old son on our property and send him to the hospital with injuries last year, then attempt to attack him again 2 weeks ago (he is now 9 at the time of the second attack) - again on our own property (in our back yard this time, in our front yard the first time), has allowed her dogs (multiple) to bark all night long and keep us awake (she leaves them outside and then goes away for the weekend and they bark the entire time she’s gone), then she had her crazy violent son destroy the BarkBox we put in our tree on our side of the fence last week (we put it up as a humane way to get the barking to stop without having to listen to her call us insane liars every time we complain about it). Yet...she kept repeating over and over and over for us to leave her alone and stop harassing her.

All I could even do was stand there shaking my head. It was surreal. And frustrating, because they wouldn’t even let me get a word out without screaming over me, and she was doing that infuriating Karen thing where they shove their hand at your face and grin smugly while they’re telling you what you better do or they’ll call someone to make you.

I actually started laughing, it was so ludicrous. She’s committed all those vile offenses against us and we’re the ones that need to leave her alone. We’ve had to file four police reports against her and we’re the ones that are making her life miserable. I just can’t stop thinking about that Liar Liar movie where the repeat offender keeps calling his lawyer to complain that the cops won’t stop arresting him and the lawyer finally yells THEN STOP BREAKING THE LAW ASSHOLE!!

It’s just like that. My god.

SO -

She tells him to call the police again, and this limp dick shoves that phone light right up to my face and says “You think she’s worth calling the cops over? Look at her, she don’t look worth it to me.” And bitch starts laughing. My god, these people are subhuman, I swear. I’ve never seen anyone act like this in my life, over a person doing literally nothing to them.

So she finally orders her rabid son (who is just about foaming at the mouth, I swear he’s making these barking animal noises at me, it’s weird as hell) into the house and they walk away, with him still ranting like a madman until the door closes behind them. I immediately go inside my own house and call my husband, who was way out at the back of our property in our camper (he self quarantines each day after work out there to protect us because there have been a lot of covid cases at his workplace) and he didn’t know anything was happening. He immediately runs up to the house and I tell him I caught neighbor’s thug son messing around at our fence and that when I went out he threatened to kill me.

Tom grabs something - I don’t even know what it was, I think it was this piece of board that was sitting by the door, we’ve done a shelving project recently and a couple of leftover pieces have been there for a few days - and he stalks outside toward neighbor’s house. I hear him yell COME OUT HERE BOY!!! and I stg you guys, if I wasn’t on the phone calling 911 I might have thought about getting naked right there and then because damn.

So anyway, let’s not go there. This is serious by god lol (look for this to show up in a fic soon though because material like this doesn’t get handed to you for free every day).

I call 911 and say the neighbor’s son just threatened my life and for them to come quick because he’s still over there but I know he’s going to leave any second (this is his mom’s M.O, the two times the police have tried to go talk to her she gets in her car and leaves before they can get from my house to hers, and I know he’ll do the same because COWARDS). Tom comes back and says the little pussywillow wouldn’t come out of the house. He’s breathing fire, you guys. Pure fucking fire. I tell 911 to get somebody out quick before the kid leaves, and just about 2 minutes after I hang up he does just that - we see him blast past our house in his truck and he’s gone, and then the police arrive about 3 minutes after. I’m so mad I can’t see straight. If they’d been able to see him in the state he was in, they’d have arrested him on sight.

Two squad cars (big SUV’s) pull up and block her driveway with full lights flashing, which makes me laugh because suddenly we’ve got neighbors coming outside to see what’s going on. I meet the officers outside, and the crazy bitch next door does the same, yelling “Hello Officer!” and waving to them as they’re coming up to my porch.

They talk to me and Tom for a long time, I tell them everything that happened, they interview Big (he and Little were inside the open door and heard it all), we fill out our statements and talk with them more until one officer goes next door to talk to neighbor. We can hear her dripping her fake sugar and spice while they’re talking on her porch and my husband loses his shit - he heads toward her house and yells “We got the entire thing on recording, don’t even try to lie! Your kid, threatening to kill my wife?!?” (he’s referring to the camera in my bedroom window, which actually only recorded about 2 minutes because I don’t have it set up correctly yet, but they don’t know that). The officer yells at him to get back, which, yeah - he shouldn’t have done that, but for god’s sake the woman’s peckerhead son just literally threatened murder on a member of his family, this is the final fucking straw and he’s mad. And as he’s coming back across the yard the officer that stayed with me points at our new doorbell camera, just freshly installed as of about two weeks ago, and asks if it’s on. We haven’t even really figured out how to use it yet, but yes, as far as we know it’s on. The incident happened around the side of the house, but the doorbell records audio.

God bless technology.

I invite the officer inside the house and Tom gets his phone, pulls up the app for the doorbell, and starts skipping through the recording looking for the right timestamp. Up till this point all they have is me saying the guy screamed a lot of abusive profanities at me and threatened to tear my head off, and they’re taking me serious but probably not that serious, you know? Neighbors fight all the time, wars start over barking dogs, things get exaggerated, we’ve all seen the TV dramas.

Until Tom finds the segment on the footage and starts playing it to them on his phone. It’s kind of quiet because we were a good distance away, but you can hear the guy screaming just like I said he was. The officer asks if we have a speaker we can play it through so he can hear the words more clearly, because he needs proof of threat and that’s entirely in the words.

You guys, I’m tellin’ ya, sometimes you get a chance to fucking SHINE. My husband is a musician and this cop is asking him if he’s got a good speaker. So within minutes Tom’s got this huge venue-style amplifier designed for broadcasting music to the back wall of a freaking stadium pulled out into the livingroom and he’s hooking his phone up to it, and then he hits play and the other officer comes back from next door to join us and I can tell by the annoyed look on his face that neighbor bitch has likely charmed him and shed a plethora of persecuted tears and spewed her lies about how we’ve been harassing her forEVER and I think for a second that it’s a total loss now, he’s made his mind up in her favor.

And then...away we go. Tom cranks the volume on the speaker and they both lean in to listen closely.

Just about a minute into the recording they have their proof - thugnuts screaming I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!!

Both officers nod, close their notebooks, and the second officer makes a phonecall while the first one turns to me and says “That’s terroristic threatening and it’s a class C felony. You’re going to need to go to the PA’s office with all the reports you’ve filed against them so far and all your evidence from tonight including that recording and hand it all to them. They’re likely going to issue a no-contact so that he can’t interact with you ever again.”

This is a victory, but it’s just the first step, and I feel sickeningly disheartened that it’s all in my lap to do everything. I want them to go demand his whereabouts from his mother and just go get his ass and haul him in. But no, I have a ton of legwork to do now because these horrible people won’t fucking stop.

After several more minutes of me asking questions about what exactly we need to do and where we need to go, etc etc (I’m competent but I’m also fucking rattled, someone threatened to kill me tonight and I’m blanking hard on the instructions he’s giving me) they finally wrap it up and leave. They’ve been in my house for a half hour waiting for me to finish filling out the report (I had to ask for more paper because honey I’m getting ALL the details in there) and I can just imagine how freaked out neighbor is when she sees what time they finally move their cars from in front of her driveway.

And now I’m coming down from the weird calm that I had through the entire event, and my heart feels like it’s going to EXPLODE. I had heart surgery two months ago, do I need this?? The pathetic part is that I know now just how stupid those people are, and I know this won’t be the end from their side by any means. We’ll start finding more stuff broken, or he’ll start climbing over the fence back at the back of the property to steal stuff from husband’s tool shed, or my tires will get slashed. These people are that dumb and hateful, they proved it tonight. He said if we had animals he would kill them, and then he made the same threat against me. How stupid does a person have to be to stand there with his phone out recording himself ranting and making threats against a woman standing in her own yard in her pajamas? Big tough man there. And his mama grinning at me the whole time, telling me I’m crazy and she’s concerned for her own safety because of me, while her son is standing right behind her threatening my life.

I’m just...my god, I don’t even know what to think. I thought people only acted like this in TV dramas, seriously. I’ve seen some shit in my life but this particular brand of stupid has up till now evaded me, but now it’s been in my face and I’m sort of in shock.

I don’t like guns. At ALL. Tom has always had at least one hidden carefully away, safely locked up away from the house, but now there are two inside my house in immediate grabbing range. He insisted that I let him show me how to use them. Rules were laid down for the boys - never touch, never, don’t even get close to them - and now there is a box of shotgun shells on my fireplace mantel and a singleshot rifle by the door. I hate this so damn much.

Don’t pick it up unless you’re ready to use it, he told me. Without even thinking, I said back, “If I touch it it’s getting used.”

I HATE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH

My god. I told the cops that the drug lord that lived over there four years ago was a better neighbor than this woman. They didn’t even laugh.

I guess they’re right, now that I think about it...it isn’t funny.

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candychronicles · 3 years

Text

bodyguard // s. todoroki

A/N: my take on the rockstar/band/performer au for bnharem! i’m not a big fan of au’s normally but this one was a lot of fun to write! todoroki is definitely ooc in this one but i took a lot of liberties with his character in order to better fit the au storyline.

CHARACTER PAIRING: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,091

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, gore, fighting, death, oral sex (f!receiving)

SYNOPSIS: you were in it for the money, he was an unhinged popstar. how could you two ever possibly get along?

want to read more rocking stories? click HERE !

the days at work were tiring, the nights even longer, but the pay was good and it was always satisfying to make a grown man cry as you knocked him to his knees and manhandled him away from your client.

Todoroki Shouto, one of the elite, the famed, the rich, and absolutely fucking annoying. sure, he was hot (anyone with an eye could see that) but he was just like everyone else in his industry: a cocky bastard. you didn’t mind his lifestyle too much except when it interfered with his job, like having to pry off whiny people who clung to him like their life depended on it, and for some, it probably did.

his biggest claim to fame was being in a now wildly famous band, namely the main singer. he was charming with a sultry voice and a personality that oozed confidence but he wasn’t always that way. in fact, he was originally a shy, anxiety ridden teen when he first joined, not sure how to use his voice or deal with people coming up to him in the streets. the life he lived was sheltered before that, training under his dad to take over the family business, but when sweet, innocent Todoroki confessed that he much rather be artsy and sing at the age of sixteen, things quickly changed for him. his father, Todoroki Enji, tried to convince him otherwise, told him that he didn’t know how the real world worked and that he would never be successful, but Shouto wouldn’t budge and eventually Enji caved in, or so it seemed.

Enji immediately enrolled Shouto in lessons, instructing him to shape up or ship out. if he couldn’t become successful in the industry, he would take over his father’s business instead, but that didn’t happen. Shouto excelled in lessons, blowing his instructors away with his timbre and control. he was a natural, and frankly, good enough to be a star. they weren’t so concerned with his stoic yet endearing personality. they had broken enough pop stars, molded them to be perfect model citizens, so what was one more?

the plan backfired immensely. as Shouto’s talent grew, Enji seeked out the biggest in the game, convincing them to give his son a chance at stardom. while reluctant, the board agreed, not wanting to piss off one of the most powerful men in Japan but were thoroughly surprised at the fact that his kid didn’t suck at all. in fact, he was actually good, really, really good.

they signed him immediately, whisking him away into the life of fame and fortune at the young age of seventeen. his range, the slight rasp to his tone and the ability to reach into somebody's soul and pluck the very feelings they try to hide so deeply from it’s depths pushed him towards the life of a rockstar. the freedom he had never been able to experience living at home pushed him over the edge and spiraled him out of control.

Todoroki drank, smoked, and fucked his way through cities big and small, getting himself into a lot of trouble along the way. the behavior went on for years, only getting worse as time went on. nobody seemed to be able to get control over the boy with the pretty hair and wild scar. after almost killing several women and one of his bandmates in a drunk driving accident, his team, label, and most importantly his father had enough.

the conversation between the two did not go well. Shouto was now an adult, legally free and clear from his father’s power. he had his own money, enough to live comfortably for awhile, even if he dropped the band, and all of the repressed rage, longing and anger that was pent up from his childhood. he was not stopping his lifestyle for anyone. that was, until you came along.

you were always a scrapper, getting yourself in trouble more times than you could count. it was just in your nature to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves and you spent many days on the playground beating up the bullies who picked on the sweet girl braiding flowers into her hair, or the boy who liked to play with baby dolls instead of trucks.

as you got older, your fights got fewer and farther in between, at least when it came to the public.

when you turned sixteen and kicked some kid who was trying to look up your skirt so hard in the chin that he saw stars, you were approached by a few men who slid you a card and told you if you wanted to make money fighting, come meet them.

you were a dumb kid and instead of running in the opposite direction and telling the police, you showed up at the seemingly dingy door behind the alley of a fairly run down ramen restaurant. knocking on the door and rocking back on your heels, you waited to see what would happen. it took a few seconds before a panel slid open, allowing you to see nothing but someone’s eyes peering at you in the mid-afternoon sun. hesitantly, you raised the business card in your hand, showing it to the person and jumping in surprise as the panel slammed shut and the door creaked open, inviting you in.

you nodded your head politely at who you realized was a rather bulky, burly man, before a woman dressed in a silky black dress plucked the card delicately from your hand and led you through the hallway. when she opened the door, you were taken aback by the scene.

people of all shapes and sizes stood cheering as two rather muscular men fought in an arena across the room. spit and blood flew across the floor as the two pummeled each other over and over again before one tapped out, the other man raising his fist in the air in victory. you stood, gaze fixed on the scene in front of you, blood racing at the thought of you being in the ring.

“addicting, isn’t it?” the woman whispered in your ear, a knowing smile on her face before she gently took you by the sleeve and guided you away from the screams and shouts into a private room that was much quieter.

you sat down in front of a man who was rather tall and thin, graying hair across his head and a clean shaven face.

“so, i heard you’re a good fighter. how good do you think you are?”

“uh-” you stuttered, not sure how to respond, “i think i can kick someone’s ass if i have a reason to.”

“is money a good enough reason for you?”

“money is a nice reward, yeah, yeah it is,” you confirmed, not pondering the question over for a second.

“good, you start on Saturday. come in comfy clothes that you won’t mind getting sweaty and dirty in. you’re my new ace, a secret weapon. give it six months time and you’ll be defeating guys like that out there in seconds.”

and defeat you did. over and over again, men, women, anyone who thought they were better than you were defeated by your own fists. you worked hard and then some, through literal sweat, blood and tears, to reach the status of champion of the underworld by the age of eighteen.

you were a wild card, unpredictable in your stature. you didn’t have hulking muscles and a sturdy frame, but what you did have was speed, the element of surprise, and the ability to calculate in a split second, all of which allowed you to defeat your enemies time and time again. this relative victory didn’t come without your share of sacrifices: hiding the bruises, blackened eyes and bloody lips from your family as you trained relentlessly, having to figure out a way to manage the steady flow of income that started coming your way as you fought in your first official matches, defeat after defeat as you trained, chipping a tooth and having it promptly filled in like nothing happened, having to learn how to disarm and fire a gun, work with knives and most importantly, losing a bit of your empathy along the way.

it came as no surprise when people who were much more powerful and much, much richer started taking an interest in you, placing large bets upon your head at some of the higher staked matches, a feat you worked your way up to after many years. you never failed to disappoint, knowing that these fights were the ones that mattered the most, the ones that brought you, and your boss, the biggest pools of money.

it was at one of these fights on a dreary, rainy night that you met Todoroki Enji, a hulking man that failed to intimidate you. you were used to people his size and bigger thinking he could take advantage of someone like you and it only made you chuckle thinking of how easy it would be to have him on his knees in seconds.

“i’ve made a proposal to your boss that he couldn’t refuse. he said he couldn’t and wouldn’t force you to do anything, but since you’re quite motivated by money, i think you’ll be intrigued by my offer,” he started, sitting down next to you in one of the VIP booths, sliding his business card on the table with a sly smile.

you were interested and entertained him, listening to him ramble about his shitty kid and his bad behavior. amused, you sipped on your drink as you absorbed his rants and whines about the negative reputation his kid was creating for himself, how he abused his freedom and power to the fullest extent and how his life was spiraling out of control.

“what does this have to do with me, exactly?” you finally questioned, setting your drink down and turning to face him, eyes met squarely with his own.

“i’d like to hire you to be his personal bodyguard.”

“sounds like he needs a babysitter, not a bodyguard,” you retorted, getting ready to stand up and move away from this blathering idiot.

when he spit out a number so outrageous, however, you sat back down, now thoroughly intrigued by the situation at hand. satisfied that he had your full attention, he went into details, laying down a fairly thin stack of papers in front of you as you listened to every detail.

“so let me get this straight. i’m to be his personal bodyguard, keep his shitty behavior a little more under control, whip him up into shape sort of situation. that’s it? and i’ll get paid that much for being a glorified babysitter?”

“you will have to protect him, of course. there are some crazy fans out there that climb windows, seduce themselves into his bed, stalk him, chase him down, but i don’t think it’s anything that, with your expertise, you can’t handle.”

you continued to ponder the situation before gesturing him to continue with his story. he rambled for another moment or two before picking up the papers and going over them with you: standard non-disclosure agreements, a detailed list of your job description and a contract agreement that he was subleasing you through your boss.

after a few minutes of reading the contracts over and discussing them with your boss, you agreed to the scenario, locking yourself into what would be a rather entertaining six months.

the first time you met Todoroki, he instantly tried to hit on you, but when his hand lowered down to grab your ass, you had him on his knees with his left hand behind his back before he could even blink. after that encounter, your conversations were curt. he knew what you were here for and he wasn’t about to let you get his way.

what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be so relaxed about the whole situation. he still drank, still partied, fucked almost whatever girl or guy he wanted, but anytime things got too out of hand, you stepped in, firm but gentle, guiding the crying groupies out of his bedroom after their time was over, driving him every time he got too drunk, cutting him off from any supplies when he was getting out of hand and most importantly, keeping him safe during his travels.

he never realized how much danger he was always in until you mitigated the problems with ease. he just assumed that being assaulted on the daily was something that came with being in the public until you broke some robbers finger when they tried to swipe the wallet out of his own back pocket. after that, he almost clung to you like a koala on a tree anytime he was out in public. you provided stability in a time where he was drowning in his own worries.

that didn’t mean he was ever nice to you though. in reality, he was actually sometimes meaner to you, the simple fact that some girl could be stronger than him set him off, always feeling on edge around you. you weren’t necessarily quiet, offering up any and all small bits and pieces about yourself that he ever wanted to know, but he never really knew you: not your last name, where you were from, if you had any siblings, parents, where you went to school, what your job was, who you were on the inside. it bugged him like crazy to know what your favorite color was and that you liked cheese on your ramen but not anything important, anything he wanted to know.

you liked to keep it that way, however, and would stay as friendly yet aloof as possible. this was a job to you, a job that would set you up easy for awhile and gave you a break from fighting for the most part. you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you liked the man more than you would’ve expected. you felt the way he clung to you as fans swarmed him, the way he always looked to you in reassurance as you walked the streets at night, hearing his sobs in the shower, sobs that were so broken and confused. it showed to you a side of him that was vulnerable, that showed emotion.

he broke down towards the end of your stay, realizing a little too late how much easier it was for you to do your job when he was cooperative and nice. in fact, he began to be more open about enjoying your company and spending time with you. it made it harder for you to continue with your job knowing you were falling for the pretty rich boy, for the man you were hired to protect, for the man who looked at you like you could do no wrong but vehemently would deny it. you began enjoying the little moments with him, the stolen glances, the laughing. you didn’t know what changed in him but you were glad he was someone you could get along with. underneath that crazy exterior, he was just a guy who wanted a friend.

your six months came up relatively quickly. it sucked that your cushy job living in five star hotels, eating decadent meals and working out in state of the art facilities would be over soon but you felt yourself getting lazy, weak and losing your rather sharp edge. it was time to get back into the grind and despite your heart panging at the fact that you would leave the pretty boy with the angry and sad heart behind, you were ready to go.

your last night of work consisted of the final show in Tokyo. tens of thousands of guests were set to attend what would be the bands biggest concert ever. you were calm, cool and collected as always, but the singer, not so much.

he spent the day pacing back and forth, warming up his vocals, hydrating himself, stretching and generally doing his best to calm his nerves.

in a rare act of affection, you reached out to grab your hand with his own, looking him dead in the eye and telling him that this night would be one he would remember forever; and you were right, just not for the way either of you thought.

the show went amazing, the crowd loud and receptive, the choreography flawless, the singing perfect. Todoroki ran off stage with the biggest smile he had ever seen and in his own rare display of affection, twirled you around with ease, adrenaline still pumping through his system.

you congratulated him on the great show and waited patiently for him to remove all the makeup and his costume. he emerged a little while later, hair flat against his head, wet from the shower, sweatpants and an inconspicuous gray hoodie donning his body. you bid a pleasant farewell to his bandmates before escorting him back to the car. he had requested that you drive him back to the hotel and spend one final night in the comfortable hotel beds before you headed back to your hometown.

when you arrived, however, things felt quiet, a little too quiet, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

“Shouto, you need to get into the driver’s seat right now, turn on the car and lock it. do not let me in until i tell you to. do not get out of the car, okay?”

he began to question you but before he had a chance to argue, you were pushing him out of the way as a knife sliced towards him, figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows.

one, two, three, four.

you counted out the four assailants as you shoved Shouto against the car, prompting him to unlock and scramble in through the back seat. only when you heard the click of the lock did you breathe a sigh of relief and begin your attack.

the first man with the knife was tall and lanky, using his height to his advantage, trying to overwhelm you, but with a quick kick to the back of his kneecaps, he went tumbling onto his knees. now shorter than you, you were able to control him by grabbing onto the top of his head and slamming it into the ground, effectively knocking him out.

one, two, three.

the next man thought his muscles would save the day, but his size lacked any true speed, and you were able to land fingers to his eyes, a punch square to his nose. a quick chokehold and he was knocked out against the concrete as well.

one, two.

they both came at once, knives flailing in the air as they sliced your way. one managed to gouge out a chunk of flesh in your arm but you paid no mind, too focused on the task at hand as you grabbed the knife with your hand and used the other arm to knock into their elbow, making them loosen their grip enough to let go of the blade that you then embedded into their shoulder. the other assailant took your distraction to swing the knife your way and as you were trying to dodge the serrated edge, used their other fist to swing up into your chin. you felt your teeth chatter against each other, blood mixing with saliva as you bit your tongue. spitting, you slammed your hand down against their wrist, grabbing the knife with your hand and yanking, not caring that it sliced into your palm as you flipped the weapon around to shove it into their abdomen.

with both men distracted, you slammed your fist against the car door, telling Shouto to quickly unlock it so you could get in. when you heard the telltale click, you instantly dove into the backseat, yelling at him to lock it and drive as fast as he could back to the hotel. he did as he was told with an eerie calmness to him, backing out and around the attackers that were attempting to survey the damage that had been dealt to them.

once you had made the relatively quick trip back to the hotel, you hurriedly jumped out of the car, telling Shouto to carry his own bags so you could be on alert if anything were to happen, scanning each and every corner for a possible other attack. thankfully, everything was safe as you made your way into his hotel room.

you dropped him off quietly, not even attempting to walk into his room, but only fifteen minutes had passed before he was knocking on your door, a first aid kit he had gotten from the front desk securely tucked under his arm.

you let him in without a word, locking the door behind you and turning to face him. before you had a chance to ask what he was doing there, he had dragged you into your rather grandiose bathroom, sitting you on the steps leading up to the jacuzzi tub and pulling out the contents of the kit onto the floor.

he began by assessing the damage to your wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them before wrapping both your hand and arm rather efficiently.

“i had to wrap a lot of my own wounds as well as my siblings. dear old dad let the temper get the best of him sometimes and it wasn’t always so pretty,” he explained, teeth clenching together in an attempt to remain calm.

“thanks for this. i’m sure they’ll heal just fine,” you replied, not wanting to put him in a situation where he had to talk about his troubling past.

“you could’ve died protecting me today, you know?”

“that’s my job Todoroki. i was hired to protect you, i protected you, and i’m fine, thank you very much. this is not my first fight and it definitely won’t be my last.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples as he sat down on the marble floor in front of you, holding your wounded hand in his own, tracing the fabric that surrounded your palm.

“i recognized one of the cars in the parking lot. it was a company car, one of my dad’s cars to be precise. i know they can seem relatively inconspicuous but i memorized every car my dad ever had, big or small. it was definitely his car.”

you mulled over his words for a moment before sighing yourself, slumping against the stairs as your head rested against the rim of the tub.

“your dad sent those men, huh? that’s why you were so eerily calm driving away. you knew you weren’t really in any danger, that those men were secretly there to kill me,” you finally concluded, anger boiling deep within the pit of your stomach.

“yeah, i think they were. i don’t think dad is too fond of the fact that you and i got close. i-i like you a lot more than i let on, i’ve told him so. i thought that would make him happy, knowing i have someone in my life that i could rely on and trust, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control you after these six months were up, think he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“wouldn’t be the first time i’ve had a hit out on my head. this one, however, is probably going to be a lot tricker to deal with.”

Shouto sunk deeper into himself, body shaking with rage as he saw the fight flash in his head over and over again.

“i’m going to protect you. if you want to, that is. i’ll sign you on as my own bodyguard, however much money you want. i’ll be by your side always, make sure that nobody tries to kill you, tries to hurt you like that again.”

“i can fend for myself Todoroki.”

“it’s Shouto. and why won’t you let anyone else take care of you? listen, i know i’ve been kind of an ass but i thought we were at least friends, and yet i know nothing about you. i know your favorite color, your favorite animal, that you like sunsets and the rain and snuggling under comfy sheets at the end of the day, that your eyes sparkle when you get a chance to fight but secretly crave peace and comfort, but i don’t know who you are. your name, your story, why you’re really here.”

you heaved as you sat back up, staring him straight in the eye to find no malice, no anger, only confusion, empathy and maybe even a bit of longing. so you told him, you told him everything: who you were, what you were, where you grew up, about your childhood dog and all the scraps you had as a kid, how two strange men in suits approached you and groomed you to fight at the age of sixteen, how it was the only thing you knew how to do, the only thing you were good at, how you scared yourself sometimes because you enjoyed the pain that came with the fights. he sat there watching, eyes wide and unblinking as he absorbed every word you said, every bit of pain and anxiety, of longing for someone to love and understand you, of not having to fight all the time, of wanting to be vulnerable for once.

“let me take care of you,” he declared, standing up and outstretching his hand towards you, helping you up from the cool tile, hand coming to rest behind your head once you had steadied yourself.

he leaned forward, unsure and hesitant, before placing his lips against your own, soft and gentle, tasting of mint chapstick and coffee. you were unsure of yourself, awkward, full of aches and pains, wanting so badly to let go but never wanting to get hurt.

“it’s okay, you’re safe with me. let me take care of you, please.”

that was all it took for you to open up, looping your arms around his neck as he led you back to the bedroom, careful to not run you into anything. your knees hit the back of the bed and you reflexively tensed up, like a deer in headlights.

he shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, heeding the bandage and wound underneath. you laid back after that, body attempting to relax as his hands ran themselves soothingly over your body, across your breasts, the flesh of your stomach, your thighs, the corded muscles in your calves, slipping your shoes off, your socks, kissing every inch of your body along the way, making sure you were comfortable. you shimmied out of your pants, your tight shirt, bra, underwear, finally bare for him to see, scars, bruises, all the imperfections of your life.

“so, so beautiful,” he murmured, taking his time to kiss every single blemish and scar that you had, wanting you to feel his dedication.

after what felt like hours of soft kisses, his thumb came to rest on your clit, rubbing in quick and precise circles, fingers gently parting your folds to press into your body, back arching at the feeling of him already.

“it’s all about you tonight, okay? just relax, let me show you how much i appreciate you.”

and appreciate you he did. he dropped to his knees, nose nuzzling into your pubic bone as he kitten licked your clit once, twice, three times, testing your reaction. you whined and squirmed at the feeling, already overwhelmed by his fingers lazily dragging in and out of you. you wanted, needed more, but Todoroki wouldn’t hear any of that. you deserved to be treated right, treated gently tonight, to allow your worries to melt away, if only for a few moments.

his fingers began picking up pace, pistoning in and out of you, his fingers curling in all the right spots, fists clenched into the downy comforter as you attempted to ground yourself from the overwhelming situation. his tongue worked against your clit, changing speed and pressure, trying to find what was the right combination to set you off, watching your every move intently as you squirmed around on the bed. before he even got a chance to get into a routine, you were already cumming over his fingers, creamy liquid coating the digits.

he hummed in contentment, pulling his fingers out to lick up the syrup, you watching with your pupils blown wide.

you went to sit up, body aching from the adrenaline of the fight, but he pushed you back down into the plush bed, tutting as he settled his head against your thigh, kissing, sucking and biting along the plump flesh, leaving little marks only he would know about.

his tongue began lapping at your clit again, this time harsher, more in tune with what your body wanted. you clenched your legs around his head, fisting his hair with your good hand as you tried to ground yourself yet again to reality. his velvety tongue felt like heaven against your body, coaxing moans and sighs out of your mouth. you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight truck, tingles running up your spine. you tried to push his head away but he only held your body down, a frighteningly feral look on his face as he continued to lap against your clit, unrelenting in his pursuit to pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

after, two, three, four more highs, you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended, he was finally satisfied, pulling his face away, chin glistening in the dim light. your eyes were teary and red, overwhelmed by everything he had put you through. you had never been more satisfied in your life, and by the look on Shouto’s face, he knew it too.

your eyelids began to droop and your body relaxed into the mattress as you came back down into reality. Shouto shuffled around the room before settling you into your bed, tucking the sheets around your body and propping your head against your pillow.

he was enamored by your, by your story, how you opened up so willingly to him after tonight. nothing would get in between you two now. he was just starting to truly know you, know the real you, and nothing was going to stop him from wooing you until you were his, not even his father., and if her life was ever threatened again by him, well, Shouto would just have to kill Todoroki Enji.

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bnharem collab

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yandere-mha · 3 years

Note

I know you touched on this in your first post about him, but what specific headcanons do you have about Stain with an intelligent darling who’s a perfect hero in his eyes - and even agrees with his ideals on heroism (minus the murder)?

I feel like Stain would be the most unhinged with this kind of s/o tbh.

TW: ABUSE, KIDNAPPING, UNHEALTHY DYNAMICS.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

Yandere Stain x Hero!s/o:

I’ve mentioned before that Stain has the tendency to simultaneously worship his s/o and patronize his s/o, but this trait of his would be the most intense with a hero who he saw as a “real hero”.

Honestly, as strange as it sounds with him being so opinionated, I don’t think he’d be attracted to an s/o who agrees with what he’s doing. Though he’s an unhinged serial killer, he doesn’t like people who share this quality with him. He sees himself as an unfortunate martyr who has to hurt people for the greater good, not because he’s sadistic. Whether he’s actually sadistic or not is debatable but he certainly doesn’t see it that way.

He also has a fixation with the concept of heroism and greatly admires anyone who fits into his narrow definition of “real heroics” (i.e. All Might). Having an s/o around him like this would make him absolutely lose his mind. This is especially true at the beginning of your “relationship” and when he first initially captures you.

The reason for this is that this is before he sees your faults. He sees you as an angel and he’s done his research, so he thinks he knows every little intimate detail about you and Research Shows You’re Perfect. While he knows a lot, he doesn’t know everything. Still, he will be patronizing to you, telling you just how easy it was to kidnap you and scolding you on how a hero should have more measures of security in a world with so many enemies. It seems that he’s angry at you for being caught by him but he’s really just concerned for your safety. He sees you as niave for being such an integrious person and still thinking you can be able to change things from the inside - that is a lesson he learned long ago. While he thinks you’re perfect, he also sees you like a stupid baby.

As your relationship progresses and he sees your faults, he won’t admit that he sees them and he’ll keep worshiping you. However, you might find that he starts to be more patronizing towards you. This isn’t because he’s disappointed, but more because he now sees that he needs to protect you, the perfect hero.

He’s not a very chatty person, but when he feels like he wants to connect with you, he’ll - in his mind - have deep intellectual conversations with you. Sometimes the conversations are enjoyable and thought-provoking, but usually they are the ravings of a mad man, not even giving you the chance to add your thoughts and just assuming you agree with everything he says. You can disagree with him, but make sure you carefully explain your reasoning behind it in a tactful and well thought out way. He won’t take well to this unless you offer at least a half agreement like “I get what you’re saying and I’ve felt that too, but here’s what I’ve seen”. If you change his opinion on something, he’ll be very impressed with you, if you “say something idiotic” he’ll punish you. You’re walking on thin ice.

Because you’re a hero, he’ll have higher standards for you than, say, a civilian who attends a lot of protests. What I mean by this is that he’s not going to spar with a civilian beyond maybe teaching them basic self defense, but he will mercilessly keep a hero s/o on their toes the whole time. If you fail to defend yourself against him, he’ll chide you like a child and tell you why you failed. He wants to make sure that your ability to defend yourself and save people is up to snuff even if he won’t let you go and he considers your hero days a thing of the past. He’s also very nitpicky about your actions and the things you say. If he thinks you’re doing something a hero shouldn’t be doing, he’ll be quick to correct that.

As I’ve said before, he finds intelligence and critical thinking to be very arousing (if your line of logic correlates well with his). Because of this, he’ll encourage you to stimulate your think helmet with hobbies like chess, reading, writing, playing a classical instrument, etc. He’s almost like an over critical mom who judges your performance in these things and either hales you as a genius or flat out tells you that you need to practice more. He’s brutal.

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angxlyxn · 4 years

Text

understand - levi x f. reader

summary: After finding that you disobeyed his rules, Levi realizes that he might have to help you understand a bit more of who actually has control.

warnings: light smut, yandere themes, PHYSICAL ABUSE, violence, dubcon, obsessive behavior, abusive language/swearing, some ooc content

word count: ~4k

You hurriedly walked through the musty hallway, heavy boots clinking against the stony floors of the base. You continued rushing to your room, head whipping furiously from side to side as you tried to gauge your surroundings. You knew he was coming for you- in fact, you could feel him. You could feel his burning determination from a few rooms away, not to mention the pure fury he must be feeling for you. You were no stranger to Levi’s punishments, and you certainly were not looking forward to the inevitable discipline that awaited you today. Discipline. The term was really laughable at this point, as it seemed that his perception of the very concept was skewed, to say the least. You hastily tightened the leather straps on your legs, readjusting your jacket as you skidded through the dimly lit corridors. You heard a few calls echoing through the hallways, and you could faintly make out your name amongst the string of words that the person was saying. You panicked as you realized who was yelling out, using every inch of strength left in your body as you broke into a full sprint. However, you soon realized that this was a mistake, as your heavy footfalls had just revealed your location to the very man you were trying to evade.

“L/n, get the FUCK back here!” He was getting closer. You willed your already sore body to move faster, your legs aching with every step that you took.

‘Just.. a bit...further....the dorms are up ahead, just keep running, just a bi-‘ Your thoughts came to an abrupt halt as you felt a large force slamming into your back, sending you tumbling to the cold floors of the corridor. Your chin hit the stones with a great force, causing your entire skull to shake a bit. You felt a drop of blood make its way down your neck, presumably from your chin. Still, despite the sheer futility of the situation, you tried to push yourself up from your sprawled out position of the ground, only to be pushed back down again by a heavy boot slamming down against the back of your rib cage.

“No, Levi, pl-“

“That’s Captain to you L/n,” he said, spitting out your name as though it were a slur of sorts. He kicked you roughly in the side with his steel-toed shoe, urging you to turn over onto your back. You did as he wished, the pain searing through your exhausted body as you did so. You looked up, immediately regretting your decision to do so, as the pure rage hidden behind his usually passive eyes was enough to make you fear for your life. You quickly averted your e/c irises from Levi’s own grey hues, biting your bottom lip out of nervousness.

“Hey!” You heard an aggressive, yet still somehow monotonous shout, as well as the feeling of his foot clamping down on your chest yet again, this time accompanied by a whimper from you as your body convulsed at the amount of force he put into his step. “You look at me when I’m talking to you, do you hear me?” He said, receiving nothing more than a small tremble from you. Visibly dissatisfied with your lack of a response, he pressed down harder on your chest, eliciting yet another whimper from you.

“Y-yes, Captain,” you managed to stutter out, your voice meek and frightened. His eyes narrowed as he removed his foot from your chest.

“Get up,” he said, his tone intense and impatient. You nodded hesitantly, pushing yourself off of the ground, or, at least, attempting to. After a few seconds of trying to force yourself off of the stony tile, you felt a rough hand grasp your hair, pulling you up from the ground. Your steps faltered, only resulting in another sharp tug on your hair from Levi. “Hurry up,” he said under his breath. “Fucking slut.”

He continued like this for a while, tugging you along towards his chambers, much to your terror. You began to struggle against him as he took his keys out from his pocket, slotting the rusted key into his door handle. You mumbled a bit under your breath, but your frantic ramblings fell on deaf ears. Soon enough, his door was opened, and you were unceremoniously thrown inside of his room. You heard your only means of escape slamming behind you, a resounding thud echoing through the young captain’s quarters.

“I gave you one task,” he growled. “One..simple..FUCKING JOB.” You could tell that he was desperately trying not to lose his cool, if only for his own personal satisfaction. From the years of time that you had spent with the man, you had grown accustomed to his odd, sadistic way of drawing things out for way, way longer than they needed to be, well, drawn out for. It was sick.

“I give you one thing to do. I tell you to stay inside. Within the confines of the base. All you had to do was just sit pretty in your room, the room that I so lovingly cleared and made nice for you.” The way he spat out the word “cleared” made you more nervous than you could tell, but you supposed that wasn’t anything to be concerned about right now. After all, when Levi is mad, it's a much larger problem than anything else that you might have an issue with. In times where he was upset, or really at all times, you found it easier to just not question him. He continued to shout at you, his words growing incoherent as you brushed your fingers against your face, digits catching on the crimson liquid that had dribbled down from your nose and onto your chin. As you tried to clear your foggy mind his voice rang back through your head, his tone now hostile, even bordering on animalistic as he yelled down at you. “Little whore, are you deaf? SAY SOMETHING! When I talk to you, you respond, got it?” He said, kicking you in the thigh to punctuate his sentence. You turned around, hesitantly tilting your tear-stained face at the man above you. Gulping down your pride, you decided to tell him what you thought he would like to hear.

“I-I’m sorry, I just wasn’t thinking, and everything just felt like so much, I had to get away, I had to go outside, I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t take it anymor-“

“You couldn’t take it anymore?” Levi mocked, bending down slightly. “You couldn’t fucking take it anymore? Oh L/n, you can take so, so much more than anything I’ve already done to you. You work for me, remember? You belong to me. You will do as I say, and L/n, you know what happens when you disobey me.”

Your eyes widened at his words as you began to back away from him, hands grating against the splintering hardwood beneath you. “No, Levi, please, no no no please I’ll do anything, please,” He just chuckled lightly in response to your pleading, simply grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you up from your spot on the floor. He brought you close to him, so close that your hips were flush against his.

“You need to learn that when I say it’s too much, it’s too much. You don’t have the privilege of deciding things like this. You haven’t earned the right,” he whispered, his hot breath brushing up against your ear.

Suddenly, he gripped onto your shoulders, shoving you onto the cot that sat in the corner of his room. At this, you let out a yelp, barely having enough time to brace your fall before you collapsed down on the rough comforter that was tucked neatly into the corners of the bed. As you did so, you came to a terrifying realization. To anyone else it may have been a source of comfort, but to you, well, to put it simply, you were afraid. Levi was acting....calm. Unsettlingly calm. Well, at least compared to his usual persona when angry. Usually at this point, he would’ve stabbed you at least twice in the leg, and would most likely be screaming bloody murder. That was one thing that was different about Levi whenever he was around you. With others, he often put on a cold front, one that was virtually undisturbed, even when he would see his comrades die right before him, or even during battle, an attitude which you at first considered to be nothing short of appalling. However, nothing could compare to the way he acted when he was alone with you. He was always loose with his emotions around you, never holding back on things such as, well, anger. You supposed keeping your emotions bottled up all the time would take some sort of toll on a person, as you were sure it did on Levi, but his anger was horrendous. It was like he was some sort of sadist.

That’s why it was so strange that his anger was not on full display, at least not yet. Hell, you barely had any bruises yet. Instead of his normal unhinged hostility, he was standing over what appeared to be a desk drawer, clutching a slender object. Perfectly calm, even..docile. Against your better judgement, you spoke up.

“L-Levi, are you not upset wi-th me?” You said, cursing yourself for stuttering.

The man in question chuckled a bit before answering. “Upset? Hardly. Angry, however….” He trailed off as he turned to face you, his features as expressionless as always. Your gaze travelled down from his face, and immediately you wished it hadn’t, for you had noticed the small switchblade that Levi was now brandishing, the hilt of the knife illuminated by the dim lighting that was spread throughout the small room. You began to hastily back up, ruffling the cot’s blankets in the process and eventually colliding with the wall behind you. Levi stalked over to the bed, placing the blade on a bedside table before turning to face you.

“Now, what shall I do with you,” he thought aloud, causing your face to further contort into an expression of fear. “You did try to run away, did you not? There ought to be some...repercussions for your behavior.”

“Run away- I- Captain, I’m not your captive or somethi-”

You were caught off by a foreign sound, one that grated against your ears in a way that was definitely not entirely unintentional. It was laughing. Levi.. was laughing. Bouts of hysterics sprung from his mouth, the sound anything but pleasant. He sounded almost..manic. You had never heard him laugh, let alone smile. You honestly don’t think that anyone had. This was not normal, and you had never been so afraid.

“You really don’t understand, do you!” He said as he combed his fingers through his raven locks. “I guess if you can’t figure it out for yourself, I’ll have to help you understand, hm?” He said, his laughter dying down as he came upon the last phrase, his stormy eyes shifting over to the small switchblade that he had taken from the drawer moments before, your own e/c irises following suit. They widened as you realized what he was gazing at, and you were thrown right back into your state of panic as you watched his murderous gaze linger on the blade.

“Levi, please, I’ll do anything,” your eyes flickered back up to his face, pleading with him as the image of the knife flashed through your mind. “Anything, just please don’t hurt me, I promise, I wasn’t in the right state of mind, it was a mistake, if I could go back I woul-“ You were cut off yet again, but this time by a sudden pressure on your arms. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, you were shoved on your back with your wrists pinned beside your head while Levi, who was now straddling your waist, had the upper ground.

“Didn’t I tell you to only speak when prompted?” He said, voice trembling with fury. He leaned down over you, until his lips were within an inch of your ear. “Didn’t I tell you to obey me?” He said. By now, you were shaking. Not out of fear, no, but out of pure, unadulterated anger. You knew that he would count your silence as submission, so you took a deep breath in, preparing to scream.

“Get the FUCK OFF OF ME YOU LITTLE FUCKER!” You yelled out, your voice hoarse and venomous. You struggled against his hold, managing to land a solid kick in his gut and push yourself out from underneath him. You rolled off of the bed, hoping you had enough time to reach the door before he recovered from your blow. However, your fight was in vain, as you soon found yourself once again suffering a kick to the back of your rib cage. You collapsed on the ground, but still you were determined to not give up, and thus you began to claw your way towards the hopefully unlocked door of his dorm.

You heard him tut behind you before grabbing your ankle and dragging you away from your only hope of escape.

“You know, if you keep pulling shit like this things are only going to get worse for you,” he said as he threw you back onto the bed. His voice made you sick. You hated how he was treating you as though you were nothing more than an unruly child, a brat that just needed to be tamed. “Now, stay down like a good girl, hmm?” You let out a shaky breath and began to think about your situation. In the years that you had trained alongside your colleagues outside of the walls, you had always noticed how...different Levi seemed to be, at least compared to everyone else. Despite keeping to himself a good amount, he was driven, more so than anyone else you had ever known. He was determined to rise through the ranks, and oftentimes did whatever he could in order to do so, even if this meant putting himself way before others. Nevertheless, you had looked up to Levi for a good chunk of your career. A part of you still did. Maybe that’s why you took such an interest in the young captain, and why he did the same for you. You had, at one point, allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him. At the time you felt like a burden, but he assured you that you were okay. For a while there, you even felt something a little...deeper.. for the man, but now it seems those feelings have dissipated, just like all of the previous respect he held for you. At least, that’s what you would have thought based on the way he treated you. But the way he was occasionally gentle with you after he had his little tantrums, or how he would look out for you while out on the battlefield kept you coming back for more. That was, until he had forced you to literally keep yourself captive. That was when you had finally snapped and decided to put an end to the maddening thoughts that swarmed your head whenever you so much as saw Levi. You needed to get away, you couldn’t bear to even see his face anymore. It was horrible, yet..rousing. Yes, that’s what it was. Levi’s presence was maddening, Intoxicating. Addictive. He was sadistic, yet careful. Ruthless, but calm. How could he act so vile yet be so alluring?

“Are you even listening to me?” He yelled out, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Little slut, you never listen!” Grabbing a fistful of your hair, he forced you onto your back, staring down at you, face full of contempt. “Now, you’re going to stay put, alright?” He said as he untangled his hand from his locks, instead moving to unbutton your shirt. In what felt like less than a second he had removed your blouse and jacket, revealing your simple white bra. Soon he had taken off your bottoms as well, leaving you fully exposed to the man in front of you. In turn, he pulled off his own shirt, making sure to show off his well toned stomach to you. He looked at you expectantly, eyebrows furrowing after a few seconds of staring at your cowering form. “On your knees,” he spat out in a gruff voice. You swallowed, lip trembling ever so slightly as you lowered yourself onto the cold hardwood beneath you, already bruised knees slamming onto the floor as you fell. Before you knew it, he had taken his throbbing member out of his pants. He already appeared to be aroused, which only made you grimace ever so slightly. The sick bastard was getting off on beating you, a realization which you wished you didn’t have to come to terms with. He really was just a fucking psychopath.

As he drew closer to your face, angling himself so his dick was level with your mouth you began to lean away, turning your jaw slightly to the side as your disgust took over and you could no longer hide your feelings of abhorrance. However, he only kept inching closer, pressing his cock up against your cheek. That was the last straw, and you began to push as hard as you could against his thighs, attempting to free yourself from the disgusting man.

“Stop it, get away from me, I hate you, and you’re dirty and fuc-”

Your protests were cut off by the feeling of a boot colliding with your face, causing you to fall over onto your back. You clutched your nose, whimpering a bit as you pulled your hand away, seeing blood splattered across your fingers.

“You think you can just talk back to me? Huh, little brat?” He grabbed your wrist, once again forcing you onto your knees in front of him. Before you could even think about a possible retort, you felt his shaft against the walls of your mouth. You began to choke as he shoved it further into your mouth, coughing erratically around his cock. You tried to pull away, but before you could he had entangled a palm in your hair, pulling you towards him, resulting in you trying to stabilize yourself against the floor beneath your shaking body. Levi thrust your head back and forth, forcing you to suck his now hard cock. You tried to speak, to tell him to stop or to make him feel some sort of pity for you, but this proved to be impossible, as he was currently balls deep into your mouth. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he let go of your hair, allowing you to fall backwards onto your ass. You groaned out in pain as you hit the floor, but, nevertheless, you were glad that your little session was over. That is, until you saw him reach for the switchblade that had, up until now, been sitting on a small side table by his bed.

“No, no, no Levi please!” You pleaded with him once again, scrambling away from the man before you. You brought your knees into your chest and your arms up, effectively shielding your face. However, your defenses were quickly broken by Levi, and you were soon torn up yet again from your spot on the floor. You were back on the bed in a second, your face squishing into the sheets as Levi kneeled on your back, completely eradicating any hope you had of escaping the ravenette. He unclipped your bra, leaving your back completely bare, which only served to worry you more. Suddenly, you felt a cool, tingly sensation brushing across your back. It almost felt like…

Before you could even register what was happening, a searing pain spread across your form, one that you knew all too well.

“LEV-“ You screamed out, part of you trying to plead with him while the rest of you just wanted a way to alleviate the horrible feeling of a blade carving deep into your back. But, before you could even hope to finish your sentence, you were silenced by a rough hand wrapping around your chin, forcing your mouth closed.

“No, since you can’t seem to get it through your head that you belong to ME, and that you must obey ME, I guess I’ll just have to help you along a bit, perhaps with something more permanent.”

You quivered at his words, a muffled scream escaping your mouth as you felt him stick the knife back into your delicate flesh.

He continued on like this for a while, each of his stabs long, drawn out, and excessively precise. After he was finally certain that the wounds were deep enough, that they would scar over nicely and not ever fade, he shifted himself back to survey his work. Inscribed across your back was the word ‘Levi’, each of the characters in his name leaking blood across your frame. He smiled, wider than he ever had, at the symbol of ownership, the brand which he had placed upon your body. Now you were his, truly his. Future lovers, family members, friends, anyone and everyone could see that you belonged to him, that he owned you.

Your no longer muffled sobs echoed through the room, a pitiful display of weakness that he would usually frown upon. However, he was feeling a little...strange as he heard your choked out whimpers. Almost remorseful. A person such as Levi should not feel pity for anyone, especially not someone who was lower than himself. At least that was what he was taught when he was but a child. Of course this was not the kindest approach to living, nor was it in any way empathetic, but look how far it got him! He was an esteemed captain, someone who started out with nothing and rose through the ranks faster than anyone before him. He shouldn’t change the very thing that made him successful over a little bit of moral turmoil, right? But, somehow, seeing you sprawled out of the bed, blood splattered across your shoulders and tears staining your cheeks, he felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Levi looked down at your weak form, inhaling sharply before turning towards the bathroom door that sat in the corner of his room. He ruffled through his cabinets before his hand landed on some gauze, which he grasped onto and brought back into the room with him. You were still lying on the bed, form completely vulnerable as he sat down next to you, causing the mattress to sink a bit. He unwrapped some of the gauze, furrowing his brows and eyeing your injuries as he did so. Taking another breath, he began to wrap the bandages gingerly around your frame, watching as you flinched at his touch. After he was satisfied with the way in which he had dressed your wounds, he carefully flipped you onto your back once more, staring into your dilated pupils with such an intensity that you feared he was going to hurt you more than he already had. However, after a few seconds of searching your face, he only leaned down over you, planting a tender kiss against your plush lips.

“Thank you,” He murmured, the movement sending vibrations through your lips. You closed your eyes, melting into the kiss just a little bit more. You knew that you should probably resist, that you should push him away and get as far away from the man as you could, but you just- you couldn’t. He was broken, it was obvious. What kind of person would you be if you left someone who needed help behind? Although he was a bit selfish, and even sadistic at times, Levi had always looked after those who were ranked lower than him, even going so far as to shield them from serious harm when fighting. And the way he would let his touches linger on you a bit, making sure to make some sort of contact with you whenever possible was...sweet, to you at least. These little reaffirmations, his little spouts of care were enough to make you stay. That combined with the fact that you really weren’t sure what he would do if you ever tried to leave. But that’s the way some relationships were, right? You’ve got the good, and the bad, and the ugly. Some people were just more prone to the last two things, right? You two were fine. It was normal for couples to fight, if one could even consider you and the short man to be a couple. Sure your relationship could be seen as a little more...unconventional to other people, but he was satisfied, and you were fine.

After all, love was supposed to be different for everyone, right?

#levi #levi ackerman #levi x reader #yandere levi x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere #aot #x reader #attack on titan x reader #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman

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atlasshrugd · 3 years

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Hi,sorry to bother you.. what are your toughts about Brian being abusive with Justin like Jack was with his mother in the first two season? I mean, he definitely had his bad habits and sure didn't always treat Justin well and wasn't always emotionally available for him (especially in s1) and this eventually resulted as Justin being hurt sometimes but I never thought that it was that bad..

Thank you for this ask!

Brian definitely was harmful to Justin in season 1 and 2, but I wouldn’t go so far as to compare him with his father.

In season 1, Brian is definitely emotionally unavailable. He doesn’t just not want a relationship; he despises relationships. He has removed that possibility from his mind and vocabulary, and most of all, he doesn’t believe he deserves one or is made for one.

Naturally, with all of his emotional trauma and his unwillingess to face it in any direct and healthy way, he is not ready for a mature relationship either. So when Justin comes along with his persistence and youth and adoration, Brian pushes him away. He doesn’t want to entertain the fact that someone may want him for more than sex, or for being ‘the stud of Liberty Avenue.’ Many factors come into this: Justin’s age, Brian’s belief system, his past trauma, his moral code, his experience, etc. He doesn’t believe or even want to believe that someone as young and innocent as Justin could want to be with him, and he doesn’t believe Justin should want that anyway.

But Justin makes him question this all the time. He is constantly pushing Brian, willing Brian to be the man Justin knows he is. This scares Brian; nobody has ever known him deeply enough to see through him. Even Mikey and Lindsey are blinded to who Brian truly is through their own filtered perceptions of what they want him to be. Nobody truly knows Brian Kinney. But Justin Taylor gets pretty damn close. “You can’t push me away,” he says. “I’m onto you.”

Nobody has ever stuck around long enough, or even wanted to stick around long enough, for Brian to ever hear these words. This is the first time someone has ever said that to him and meant it. Brian, most of all, is afraid to be known. He hides behind his persona and uses external means to prove his self-worth. So when Justin consistently sees through him and isn’t afraid to say it, it terrifies Brian. Most of the time it makes him retreat even further into the asshole persona as a defence mechanism. When Brian is afraid, he lashes out.

And because Season 1 Brian Kinney is quite unhinged and in denial, he doesn’t think twice about lashing out at Justin. He convinces himself he doesn’t want Justin in his life, that he’s “trying to get rid of him” but he just keeps bouncing back. And the scary part of it is - that Brian might actually want Justin to stick around.

Because of Justin’s maturity, I think everyone forgets how young and impressionable he is (including Brian), so Brian doesn’t think twice about possibly conditioning Justin in a potentially harmful way in the long-run. I don’t think Brian realizes just how much of a sponge Justin is until the King of Babylon contest when he uses Brian’s own tricks against him. I think that was also his first flash of fear where he thought: Perhaps I have made him too much in my image.

The truth is, Brian in Season 1 is mostly irresponsible and selfish. As much as I adore him, nobody can excuse his actions even though we know his reasons for them. He has not yet learned responsibility for another person, because part of his code of conduct is that everybody should be responsible for themselves. This philosophy is not wrong, but he takes it to the extreme to further shield himself from being let down. Even with a kid, Brian makes the choice to only be a ‘drop-in’ dad who only contributes through money, because that’s all he thinks he can be. He doesn’t want to even risk turning out like his father, so in his mind, it’s better just not to try. (However, he has a moment of clarity when he decides not to sign over his parental rights to Mel. That was his first flash of ‘Hold on. I am responsible for this child, and I want that responsibility. I accept it.’)

It isn’t until the prom when he learns what it truly means to be responsible for another persons life. There, he is forced to face reality head-on; how easy it is to lose a person, how precious life truly is, how easily it can be snatched away from you. Here we see Brian in his barest form. Terrified out of his skin, guilt-ridden, and hollow. Here is when he takes full responsibility; too much, in fact. He believes the bashing is his fault, that Justin nearly died because of him. It’s a turning point for Brian where he ceases to be that callous, selfish man from Season 1. That night at the prom, his heart was broken.

In Season 2, we see a new side of Brian. The caring, hesitant, selfless side. He knows how easy it is to lose Justin, so he doesn’t make the same mistake of pushing him away to protect himself. He lets him in a little more, he admits that he wants Justin to stay, that he will be “doing exactly what I want to do: coming home to you.” But while Brian has had a wakeup call, that doesn’t mean he will change his entire way of thinking overnight.

Throughout the second half of season 2, we start to see Brian sink into his old habits of neglecting Justin emotionally. Brian’s ‘love language’ isn’t through words of affirmation; it’s through acts of service. He believes actions speak louder than words, and with that philosophy, he convinces himself that he is taking care of Justin in all the necessary ways; namely, paying for his school fees, asking him to stay in his loft, helping him financially, driving him around, etc. Because nobody has ever done those things for Brian, he believes these actions scream affection.

The truth is, Brian Kinney is a man of conviction. As an advertising executive, he knows the futility of words and how easy it is to manipulate them. He knows they are just words, and this has been proven to him time and time again by his parents. This is part of why he doesn’t believe in marriage and relationships. “Love is just something people tell themselves they’re in so they can get laid.” He has been proven how meaningless words really are, so he doesn’t see the necessity for them.

But Justin does see the necessity. After the bashing, he changed. He was no longer that cock-sure, confident, self-assured boy from Season 1. The bashing wiped away all control he thought he had over his life. Something was taken from him against his will, something he will never get back: his memories, the control of his left hand, his boundless dreams of being an artist. He realized that Justin Taylor is not invincible. This loss of control terrified Justin, as it would anyone. He realized that reality was harsh and life takes and takes from people who don’t deserve it. He felt like a stranger within his own body, like he didn’t own any part of himself. He felt lost and confused and helpless.

So, understandably, he needed reassurance. He needed clarity. He needed the words, and things spelled out for him. He needed some semblance of control, some certainty in all the chaos of his mind. He no longer had the mental energy to play the guessing game with Brian. He could no longer assume Brian’s feelings, or read into his actions. He needed Brian to say the words.

But Brian couldn’t. And that was why Season 2B happened. The moral of all these ramblings is: yes, Brian inflicted some form of emotional abuse on Justin in Season 1. Yes, their relationship had toxic elements. But no, I don’t believe their relationship can be compared with that of Jack and Joan Kinney’s. That was a loveless marriage between two hateful and bitter people. While they each have their issues, Brian and Justin’s relationship ultimately is one built on trust and love.

We don’t need rings or vows to prove that we love each other. We already know that.

#sorry this is so long omg #ramblings #queer as folk #brian kinney #justin taylor #asks #mine #qaf #britin

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ask-ssec · 3 years

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Following up from last question, what would happen when all of the main cast are at their most deepest of despair where there is no sense of happiness within them?

Author Chan: That’s too depressing, even for me. So, Not gonna draw it, but let’s see... this will ofc, be in different universes, so each character is in a different universe, but I feel like each is at the point of despair thats the most. (None of these are canon. There is officially only one ssec universe)

Blizz: Is still in his lab, with his memories. A head guard and ruthless, emotionless. Has to watch Vay slowly deteriorate until Vay became so unhinged that he had to be killed. Which, they ofc, forced Blizz to watch. All the other main boys have also died or went missing, so Blizz is alone. And Labsol is furious with him and makes his life hell due to what happened to Vay. Has vivid night terrors about the horrible things he has done and the Pokémon who he has had a hand in killing. But. He is very, VERY powerful. He trained his analytical and strength abilities to the point where they are always on. And through means unknown, has acquired several others, including the ability to turn into a human. But no one knows he did. Is slowly climbing the ranks as a human to get to the top of plex and destroy it. BUT. With a very low success rate, who knows if it’ll happen.

Dusk: During their escape, Sora was killed right in front of him, her blood and gore drenching him, causing Dusk to have a massive mental breakdown, that accedently kills Bolt, Flame, and Vay in the process. Blizz is the only one alive, but he is unconscious (and no memories, as usual). Dusk leaves Blizz, fearful, and retreats into an unknown location, where he turns literally insane because he killed his brothers and watched the love of his life get mutilated in front of him! What happens to Blizz? Well. He gets retrained by the lab and becomes an even better killing machine with nothing to hold him back! And this Blizz, is on the hunt! For Dusk. (Cause the lab wants him dead).

Eve: Her egg was never given away. Instead, it went missing, and ended up in a place where normal eevee eggs are kept. She was hatched by Plex and, as a baby, was immediately experimented on and tortured a ton! You know, as the lab does. After they find out about her other abilities, its too late, they already pretty much mentally broke her. So now, she has to train and be pushed by the lab guys because of her actual abilities, while constantly in pain and stress! And. Trust me. If you guys knew what her ability is, you’d know why they are pushing her so hard. Keep in mind that she is still a child.

Vay: Honestly just keep him with Labsol. In this universe, the plan to escape never happened. Blizz was killed trying to protect him from Labsol, his last words being that he loved him. So, now, he is being abused and used daily by his closest friend/brother’s literal murderer! Vay deteriorates even more and more, lashing out at the others and ending up alone in the end, the only one he can turn to being Labsol, who, as we know, is an abuser and murderer. This messes up with Vay’s mind a lot, but in the end, he submits to him. (Author Chan: I feel actually sick writing this, sorry) Vay has lost all hope, all family, and all will to live, but is forced to live and be Labsol’s play thing and a test monkey.

Bolt: This is a hard one. I know there could be a universe where Bolt is sad, but. It would mean the events that happened to him in general would be really different. Instead of the experiment he did, I’m thinking they instead thought it would be great to put him in the fire elemental experiment, which has a low survival rate. This causes immense pain and scarring for Bolt, burning off most of his fur and almost killing him. But, he does get fire abilities, Just that he is unable to move and is bed ridden. His time in the lab slowly turns him jaded, and when he found out his brothers left without him (except Sora) it broke him. When he can walk and function again, the lab ofc, locks him up because “oops. Fire elementals are dangerous. Where he doesn’t get to talk or interact with anyone for years. Until. They want him to breed. So they send him to Kalos, where a couple of things happen, including him being forced to breed with Sora. Who he accidentally burns. This causes Sol to go haywire on him, almost killing him. And from then on, Bolt just. Breaks.

Flame: Basically, Have Sora escape with them. And no agency. So Flame is depressed, resentful, jealous of Dusk, and hates himself. He’ll slowly deteriorate himself due to being a literal waste of space with nothing to do and no one to turn to.

Daisy: I honestly cant say much without spoiling her story. But, at a pivotal moment, when she is alone and hiding, have someone find her, and make her actually watch what’s happening. This will break her to the max. Wow. I cant say a LOT about Daisy. rip.

Dawn: the trainer loved and trained her, then literally abandon her. No wonder trade, no PC, but full on release. That will shatter her. From that point on, Dawn will be a walking shell, because she puts all of her self worth on the trainer’s affection towards her, ant the trainer just threw her out like trash. As she lives in the wild, bad things keep happening to her, Pokémon go after her, her lack of survival instincts show, and no one helps her. One day, she sees Scull, looking for her. She runs up to him, but- “BANG” he goes down. Pokémon poachers killed him for his pelt. “BANG” another shot, aimed at her. She runs, tears streaming down her face. And there, hiding from the poachers, in a dark cave/burrow with small chance of escape. She feels despair.

Miku: That moment in the agency, when Ford came to her. Just, take that out. He never comes to her. She gets lost in her head, and loses all hope. There, it honestly just down hill. She’ll retreat into herself, not really listening to anyone. And then, when events happen and Sol gets his hands on her, she’ll just go along with him, and become his mate. Which sadly, isssss not really a good thing for her. Like... at all. She’ll become more and more unhappy, and lost. Sol does spoiler things with her by his side, and. Miku sees Sol literally kill Dusk right before her eyes, somehow. This. Causes her. To absolutely loose it.

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theunquenchablethirst · 3 years

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Home Pt1: The Orphanage (Jeremiah X Reader)

First multi-chapter fic I’ve ever written, so critics please be gentle, but feedback is much appreciated. This chapter is just about introducing the reader to the story, but I do have more chapters ready to go out. Lemme know if you want them ☺️

Slow burn and mentions of childhood trauma/abuse

Find Pt.2 here

Reader is an orphan about to turn 18 when a wealthy man visits the orphanage looking for an older girl. She is put up as a possible option and she isn’t happy about it.

Masterlist

Growing up in the orphanage was horrible. They treated us all like workhorses from the moment we arrived. They would demand so much from us from such an early age and when we couldn’t do it, we would get beaten or starved or have to spend the night in the basement with the rats. If not all three. And then they wondered why we didn’t have the strength for all the hard labour they forced upon us.

They didn’t care about us one bit. They used to send us to clean rich people's houses to make money off us. I remember one girl got sent out and came back covered in bruises. She tried to tell them she didn’t want to go back, that the guy was a creep and he touched her. They still sent her and one day she just disappeared. We all knew what happened, but we didn’t dare say anything. We were the weak ones and in Gotham, nobody cares about the weak ones.

I remember praying every night for some nice couple to come and save me. Adopt me. But year after year passed and I learned to abandon those dreams. I’d read in the paper about some guy called Jerome Valeska. He’d murdered his mom. I also saw him when I’d been sent out on maid duty, on a client's TV when they were watching the news. He seemed unhinged, like a rabid dog, talking into the camera about sanity and how we were all just prisoners and cogs. He said was the leader of a gang called the Maniax. We’d all heard of them at the orphanage and what they’d done. I decided if that was what family could do to you, then maybe it wasn’t for me. It wasn’t like anyone was coming for me anyway.

Instead, I focused on counting the days to my 18th birthday. They kicked you out once you turned 18, but it was a time everyone in the orphanage looked forward to. I remember how excited I was when the time crawled ever closer. It was just a few weeks, but time seemed to slow down as they were passing. It was painful.

I had everything I was going to do planned out in my head. First, I was going to punch the head master square in the nose and tell him just how much I hated him. Then I was going to walk my ass straight to the GCPD and let them know everything. It was my chance get that place shut down forever. To help the other kids and get them sent somewhere decent. I would be stood out front watching the day it closed. Watching with the biggest, tooth baring smile on my face.

I still hate that I never got the chance.

My 18th was a few weeks away and I could taste my freedom. Everyone was hyping me up for it and some of the younger ones were telling me how much they were going to miss me and trying to spend as much time with me as they could. There were a few sour apples because they were jealous, but I understood and I would squeeze them all so tightly before I left.

“Stop daydreaming and get back to the floor!” A harsh voice came and I was brought back to reality with a smack to the back of my head.

It was the head master's assistant, Mr Grimes. A name that suited him well. He was stalking the halls again, looking for the daydreamers like me so he could tear them down. I was supposed to be scrubbing the wooden floorboards, but I let my mind run away with me for a minute. I should’ve known better by then.

He got halfway down the hallway, trapsing dirt over where I’d just cleaned, when he stopped in his tracks and turned back to me.

“You’re up tomorrow, by the way.” He said, in that matter-of-fact tone that made everyone despise him that extra bit more.

“What?” I must’ve heard him wrong.

“You’re up. Some rich guy’s coming in looking for an older girl. That means you.”

“I can’t be. I’m getting out next month.”

“It’s right here in black and white. And you know I don’t make mistakes.” He gestured to the folder under his arm that had the details for tomorrow in it and apparently my name was listed inside.

I stopped to let the wheels in my head turn and try and figure this out. Being up meant that you were going to be presented for possible adoption. I couldn’t be... could I? Not now I was this close? Mr Grimes turned to leave, but turned back once more.

“By the way, says here this guy's 26. So, he’s probably not looking for a daughter. And if he’s coming here instead of some maid agency... Well, I'll let you think about that.”

Mr Grimes smiled one of the slimiest smiles I’d ever seen before walking away. I knew what he meant and I also knew that nobody here cared. I threw the scrubbing brush into the bucket of soapy water, causing a splash. I was so angry. Angry that my plans could be potentially ruined, that I could be adopted by some rich guy with nefarious intentions, angry that they would let that happen to any of the girls here.

I allowed a few tears to escape my eyes, but quickly told myself off for it. I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry for this place any longer years ago. It felt like giving it power or losing to it and I was not going to give this dump the satisfaction. I didn’t sleep at all that night. Knowing what tomorrow was going to bring sat on my shoulders like two boulders. I was either going to see one of my sisters be taken away to god knows what, or be taken myself. I hadn’t told anybody about it. I didn’t want anybody else feeling this dread.

Morning came. The wakeup call was 7am sharp. Everyone stirred and groaned, but they knew they’d regret it if they didn’t get up with the bell. Now began the battle for the showers. First come, first serve for the hot water. If you were too slow you had to shower in water like ice. However, I wasn’t in the mood to battle it out for hot water. I would feel terrible if I got some and the girl that got adopted today didn’t, so I let them all have war without me. I was used to the cold water anyway.

Downstairs at breakfast I couldn’t eat. I felt like I had a pit in my stomach and if I ate anything I would just throw it back up. The food was disgusting anyway. I sat there with a glass of water deep in thought until a bell rang that caught all of our attention. The only time that bell rang was when the head master was going to be joining us for breakfast, which was rare. But in he came and sat at the front in front of all of us, Mr Grimes standing at his side like a loyal dog. I knew why he was here. He was going to break the news.

“Good morning children.” He said in his dull, boring voice, looking over the room as if scanning it.

“Good morning, head master.” Everyone replied in unison. We knew the drill.

“I have an exciting announcement.”

Everyone was gripped. You could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Now, this does only concern the girls. Boys, perhaps next time.”

A few whispers could be heard as everyone looked around at each other.

“There will be a man coming in later. A wealthy man. He is going to take one of you home.”

Smiles could be seen on my sisters faces and they continued to whisper to each other curiously.

“Unfortunately, not all of you are candidates. Mr Grimes has a list of everyone that is going to be presented. When he calls your name, you are to go back upstairs and change into your display clothes. We must make a good impression if we are to find homes, girls.”

Mr Grimes opened the folder he had with him yesterday and pulled out a piece of paper. All of my sisters were on the edges of their seats, biting their lips, fingers crossed. All of them hoping today could be the day. I was hoping for the exact opposite.

“Shelby... Lisa... Mary... Joanne... Bethany.... And...” Then he called my name. The girls smiles reached ear to ear and they giggled to themselves as they stood up. We were all the oldest girls, 17 or few months away.

“Congratulations, girls. Today could be the start of a new life... for one of you.” The headmaster also rose from his seat and he left the room leaving Mr Grimes to finish.

“You girls, upstairs and make yourselves look half human. The rest of you, better luck next time.”

Back in our dorm all the girls were laughing and smiling. They were all so happy, getting their presentation clothes ready. They were all the same. The outfit we had to wear if we were up. A black skirt that reached just below the knees with a black, quarter sleeve shirt with a white collar. Our only pair of good, clean white socks and black plimsoles. We were all identical in these outfits, except for different things we would do with our hair. Some would do braids, some pony tails or buns. The lucky ones managed to scrounge up some cute clips and bows. It was all very exciting for everyone. Everyone, but me.

“I can’t believe it! One of us is getting out of this soggy shack!” Laughed Shelby.

“I know! I knew keeping that lucky penny was worth it!” Mary giggled as she pulled a penny out of her shoe and kissed it.

“Whoever it is that goes, we’ll still always be sisters, right?” Joanne piped up. She had always had a nervous disposition.

The girls all stopped. They were so giddy with the news that they forgot today was also goodbye for one of us. The sudden sadness in the air was palpable. I could see tears start to gather in their eyes and my heart broke.

“Stop it. Stop it all of you. No matter what happens today, we will all always be sisters. We’ve been through so much together that even if we are scattered to all corners of the globe, we’ll still all be sisters. Nothing can change that. Ever.” I forced, half scolding them. We huddled together and began saying how much we loved each other, going over memories we had. We stayed like that until the bell rang, letting us know we only had a little time left before the line-up.

We stood lined up by the front door. I’d never liked this bit. It felt like we were on display in a shop window. Like we were on sale.

“Is this the best you could do? I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t just walk away.” Mr Grimes scoffed as he looked us up and down. He was the one who was going to be introducing us. The head master stayed in his office, he only dealt with the paperwork of it.

“And don’t say anything, unless he talks to you. Nobody buys a cow for its personality.”

We heard a car pull up outside and the nerves kicked in.

“Sounds like he’s here. Stand up straight, girls. Somebody’s life’s about to change.”

Then there it was. The sound I’d been dreading since yesterday afternoon.

Knock, knock, knock...

“Let the sale commence.”

#Jeremiah Valeska #Jeremiah X Reader #first fic #slow burn #mentions of childhood trauma/abuse #keep the fandom alive #create content #tumblr writers #gotham fandom #gotham #now with title

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