#referenced child abuse

[spidersanonymous]

There was a soft knock at their door. Caretaker looked up from their mountains of paperwork, eyebrows furrowing as Whumpee fidgeted in the doorway.

“Hello, Whumpee,” they greeted smoothly, “is there something you needed?” Whumpee didn’t tend to stray from Whumper’s side, Caretaker could only imagine what they might need. With a glance at their emancipated figure, probably a hot meal and a bed.

“Caretaker, i-” Whumpee bit their lip, shakily stepping further into Caretakers office, “I need- help. Your help,” they finished lamely, shifting on their feet as they awaited Caretaker’s response.

Caretaker rose an eyebrow, a record amount of seven words in a span of all of twenty seconds, “Okay?” they set down their pen, giving Whumpee their full attention, “Here,” they stood up from their chair, the old metal shrieking, “i think you need a seat, yes?”

Whumpee’s lip curled down but they still crossed the room and sat down, the chair groaning quietly under their weight. They hugged their arms around themself, head bowed as they anxiously glanced at the door.

Caretaker hummed, eyes tracing over Whumpee before making a decision, “I could close the door if you’re that concerned about it,” they nodded towards the doorway.

“Don’t,” Whumpee rasped, eyes widening as their words registered; still, they continued, “it isn’t- it’s not- it’s… fine.” their frown deepened as they stammered through the words. Caretaker could sympathize.

“If you’re sure,” Caretaker shrugged, leaning against their table with as much casualty as they could manage, “so, you needed my help with what, exactly?” they asked, not unkindly.

“Um,” their arms tightened, “i need- you help victims um, escape from their abu-abusers, right?”

Caretaker leaned forward with rapt attention, eyes sharpening as they drank in Whumpee’s quivering lips, tight posture, the way their nails picked at the fabric of their shirt. Caretaker never saw Whumpee at lunch, nor did they ever come to the employee hang-outs on weekends. Something forced the ever elusive Whumpee to come out of hiding. “Right,” they nodded, “I do.”

“Okay,” they nodded once, twice, “Yes, there was a case- Jorgie May, and her sister,” they picked furiously at a view loose threads, avoiding Caretaker’s eyes as their gaze darted across the office space. There wasn’t much to see.

Caretaker hummed agreement.

“Their mother,” their voice strained, throat bobbing as they forced the words out, “she was- erm- abusive,” their eyes suddenly found Caretakers, “how did-” they licked their lips nervously, “how did they get help?” What did they say to make people believe them? Was left unsaid.

Whumpee’s words lingered in the air for a moment as Caretaker considered, leaning closer as they dropped their voice to a whisper, “They gathered evidence, took pictures of their injuries, recorded arguments they had with their mother, things of that nature. One night their mother was drunk, so she took all of the evidence -and her sister- and went to the police,” they leaned out of Whumpee’s space, “bit hard to claim two malnourished kids covered head to toe in bruises were liars.”

Whumpee shuddered, squeezing their eyes shut as they exhaled forcefully.

“The fact the neighborhood didn’t have the highest opinions of their mother probably helped, as well,” they mused to themself.

“Thank you,” they whispered, “that’s-”

“A lot?” Caretaker suggested, eyebrow raised.

“Sure,” they shrugged, glancing at the door, “i should probably get going-”

A quiet knock interrupted Whumpee’s words as Whumper slipped in from the ajar door, “Ah,” they hummed, eyes narrowing, “Whumpee and… Caretaker. How curious.”

Not even a hello, “Hello, Whumper,” they greeted as smoothly as they could manage, “was there something you needed?” even then, their words were curt.

“There’s no need to be hostile, Caretaker,” they chastised with a frown, stalking further into Caretaker’s office, “I’m just here to collect my charge, I am responsible for them, you know,” their lips curled up, as if letting Caretaker in on a joke. Caretaker hated the look on them.

“Of… course,” Caretaker agreed, words sour, “is there any chance we could take a minute and chat?” and maybe, possibly, knock you over the head with a baseball bat?

“No, unfortunately,” they crooned with false pity, smiling sickly-sweet, “Whumpee and I have a meeting to attend, and we simply don’t have the time for any further conversations,” they spat the words, expression darkening as they grabbed Whumpee’s wrist and harshly pulled them up.

Whumpee, for their credit, didn’t yelp at the pull, even though they looked like one strong wind took knock them over. They grit their teeth, allowing themself to be pulled to Whumper’s side. Whumper curled an arm around their shoulder, looking painfully smug.

Caretaker wanted to wipe that look off their face.

“If that’s all, Whumpee and I really do have to be going,” they dragged Whumpee out the door, “it was lovely speaking with you, Caretaker.”

Can’t say the same for you, “Likewise.” They managed to spit out.

With one last smug smirk, they both disappeared behind the door, finally shutting closed with a click.

Caretaker only wished they gave Whumpee their number.

___

kind of insane about this idea tbh. not sure what about it is so good but… ohh boy. wrote this in a span of two days, lightly edited. also let me know if anyone wants to be added to a taglist lol

#weaver of webs (tell me your tales) #whump writing #whump #whump prompt #whump scenes #whump scenario #reluctant caretaker #intimate whumper #whumpee x whumper #whumper x whumpee #caretaker x whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #creepy whumper #workplace whump #child abuse #referenced child abuse #protective caretaker

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Falling Water Cease to Roar

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

CW: 'It' used as a pronoun, references to past murder/abuse, captivity, referenced mind control/magic

The grandfather clock that stood along the wall by the fireplace in the study ticked, lazily but inevitably marking the passage of time while Ford stared down into the glass of amber bourbon he’d poured himself to stop his hands from shaking.

In an hour, he would hopefully be drunk enough to make dining with his father, his sister, the absolutely gorgeous woman upstairs his father intended to force him to marry, and his father’s beautiful monster something he could bear. For now, though, he was sober enough that the horror weighed too heavy. He was slumped in the overstuffed leather chair, close enough that the warmth of the fire touched him, but it could not fully penetrate his skin.

The worst thing, of course, was that the monster was in here, too.

It sat in a different chair, over by the window, staring at the sunset with a look of fixed intensity, barely blinking. It had every appearance of being an unnaturally beautiful man a decade or so older than Ford was, but of course it was at least close to two centuries old, and really… who knew how long it had lived before Guilford Wentworth had come across it? 

It wore the loose shirt and pants it had been given as if they were chains, shifting uncomfortably every few seconds. Its bare feet pressed into the softness of a plush rug beneath its chair. Ford stared as it… wiggled its toes, like anyone might at the simple comfort. Like any human, any… person.

The creature had been there his entire life, just one more tool in his father’s toolbox. The biggest and most useful one. He had watched with growing dread as he aged while the thing sang affection into his father’s friends, obedience into his enemies, and… love into Ford’s own mother, over and over, every time her mind threatened to stray away from it. 

Just as it would sing love into the mind of the woman upstairs, love into him, and even after that it wouldn’t be enough to please his father’s demands. No… time was running out for Ford’s own mind to remain his own. 

Once the wedding was done, and the monster had done what it was commanded to do, Ford would be nothing more than what his own true father had been. He’d be a puppet, going through the motions with a stupid smile on his face, until he was no longer needed and was tossed into the toybox to rot.

How would he be made to do it? He looked over at the monster again. It looked so… calm and peaceful, resting its chin on one hand, the light from the setting sun warming its brown skin and making its eyes seem oddly ablaze. It never looked all that dangerous, but… although Ford had been young, and the twins only just born, he remembered very clearly watching the monster sing a pretty song and then his true father walk into the pond in the garden to meet it. He remembered how its jaw had opened far too wide, how it had had too many teeth when it fell on him. There had been so much blood in the water. 

They hadn’t known he was watching.

Ford wondered sometimes if he’d have been sent into the pond as well, if they had seen him peeking over the windowsill in his mother’s room. 

Would Guilford Wentworth allow his so-called firstborn son to make requests on the manner of his murder, once his life became inconvenient to the grander plan? Maybe. Maybe he could ask, once he’d had a child of his own-

His stomach flipped, nerves and nausea battling within him when he thought of the look of fiery defiance in the eyes of the woman upstairs. She did not want this. He did not want this. But of course, that mattered very little when Lord Guilford Wentworth, second only to the king and with a terrible magic at his command, wanted it.

Not when he had a monster to remake the world to his liking, and all Ford had was his pitiful anger and no skill, influence, or fortune he could use to effect an escape. Had his true father been this frightened, before his wedding? Had his mother loathed Guilford Wentworth like the woman upstairs so clearly did, before the monster wiped her clean of everything but softness and light? Had his true father regained his mind at the end, when the monster’s teeth tore out his throat and he had only seconds to live?

And if he had, was it a mercy to die his own man, or simply a darker murder?

His fingers tightened around the cool glass until he worried it might crack under his grip. Thinking of his true father and the days after when he had screamed himself hoarse that it had been murder while everyone around him mourned the unfortunate drowning accident… it ached, and he had to shove the memory away as far as he could. He’d been shoving that memory aside most of his life, and he was an expert by now at how to bury it. He took a breath and then sipped the bourbon, letting the liquid burn down his throat and warm his shoulders, his chest. 

He took another drink, a deeper one, and this time he coughed when the liquid felt like it tried to go into his lungs and not his stomach, his chest suddenly felt like it was on fire within, burning behind his breastbone. He had to lean forward and pound his chest with a fist, coughing breathlessly and then jerking in air in graceless gasps. 

The monster did not move - but its head turned, just a little, to look over at him. It should be a crime, to be a creature of such evil and have such beautiful eyes. “... are you dying?” It asked, voice low and devoid of any real curiosity. 

“N-No,” Ford spat, finally feeling air enter his lungs more easily as he gulped oxygen down. It felt like spots danced at the corners of his eyes, fading as everything settled. His heart, though, still raced. When had he last heard the monster speak aloud? “I’m fine. Just went down the wrong way, is all.”

“Mmn.” The monster turned away from him. “Good. I would be blamed if you died here.”

“Why do you care if you are?” Ford’s eyes narrowed. He set the glass down on a small table next to his chair with a hard enough crack of glass on wood that he winced, hoping the pricey liquor wouldn’t leak onto the wood, make a stain, and get him in trouble. 

No. He was a grown man, and he would not fear his father’s beatings, not now. He would not let that creeping terror of Guilford’s rages keep him from standing, stalking across the room to the monster, and standing before him.

He leaned over, pitching his voice so low it wouldn’t even carry to any servant who might be lingering on the other side of the door, eavesdropping for anything they might take to Guilford to get Ford in trouble again. “We both know damn well, monster, that you’ll be the one to kill me eventually, anyway. So why do you care if it happens now?”

It did not stand, but its eyes flicked upwards to meet his where he loomed over it. From this angle, he could see the tattoos, the swirling loops and and arcane symbols that moved from just under its jaw down one side of its neck, disappearing into the neckline of its shirt, reappearing in glimpses along its wrist and hand where they came out from its long sleeve. He could see, too, scars around the unmarked side of its neck. They were so faint he’d never been close enough to notice them before. The scars circled, layered over each other. 

The monster held his gaze. “He will be displeased with me if his plans have to be changed. I will bear his anger again.”

“You…” Ford trailed off. The monster raised its eyebrows. Despite its posture reading as nothing more than lazy insolence, he could sense tension. When his eyes followed the line of its arm, he found its fingers were trembling, minutely, where they lay seemingly relaxed against the arm of the chair it sat on. There were scars faintly visible around its wrists, too. Its throat shifted as it swallowed, holding perfectly still. 

Ford had spent his life learning how to appear like a happy first son of one of the wealthiest families in the world, while secretly fearing his father’s every hint of disapproval for the violence it would bring on. He knew what it looked like to be frightened and yet determined not to show it. 

He knew he saw the same fear in it now that he knew so well. Carelessness was an armor, a magical cloak of invisibility for true feelings, but it was one that you could see easily if you’d worn it yourself. 

Its eyes narrowed and its top lip shifted, revealing sharp fangs for teeth, a hint of a defensive snarl.

“Stop it,” Ford commanded, but some of his anger had gone. 

“I do not serve you,” It said, its own voice holding both its human tongue and a lower, animal growl that rumbled underneath. “I will not kneel or lay down for you. Touch me and I will tear off your hand.”

Ford took a step back, and then another, almost stumbling until he bumped into another chair and didn’t so much sit as fall backwards into it. “You won’t what-”

Its bared its teeth fully, then, briefly showing him the full force of its razor-sharp fangs before it turned deliberately away, to look back at the sunset. Dismissing him the same way his father used to, without even speaking a word.

Ford stared at its impassive face, back to seeming utterly human now that it was no longer showing its surreal, hideous teeth. “... I saw you kill my father, you know.”

Those eyes moved briefly to him, then back to the window. “I kill all the fathers. A few of you have seen me. Your children may see me kill you. Every time is different. Every time is the same.”

Ford swiped his hand over his mouth and let his head drop until it hit the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling, letting the simple mundane horror of the words flow over him like water. Dipping his head beneath the surface of such easily-spoken and awful truths. His heart pounded, thumping against the inside of his chest as though trying to batter its way out. “Have you ever not killed anyone?”

“Yes.” Ford looked back at the monster in surprise, but it only watched him now, evenly, with no expression on its face or in its voice. “I told a child to run, once, and she lived. The rest… even if I do not rip them apart myself…”

“They die because of you. We die because of you.” It nodded, face utterly blank. “Don’t you…” Ford gestured aimlessly, not even sure what the movement of his hands was meant to represent. “Feel the slightest bit bad about it? Regret? Remorse?”

“You are human. You are his blood, you are like him-”

“I am not like him!” The denial roared out of him - the shouting was so loud and seemed to come unbidden, and it took him until the end of the sentence to realize it was he himself who was shouting. He was on his feet in an instant, closed the short distance between them, and he had slapped the monster full across the face before he understood he had moved at all. “I am not!”

His palm stung, hot and buzzing, and he stared at the monster who looked at him with that snarl yet again, one side of its face flushing bright red already, eyes glimmering with the reflection of the dying day. “Are you not?”

Its voice was low, and its aim true.

Ford hitched in a breath, horror washing cold through him, sweeping away the anger that had driven him forward. He had never hit another-

No. It wasn’t a person.

But still…

If he resorted to his father’s violence so readily, turned on another what had once been turned on him, was he even a person?

Perhaps they were both monsters. 

“I-... I’m sorry,” He said, his voice slightly strangled, looking away. Something very like a scream was trying to claw its way up his throat and he had to fight with everything he had to keep his voice level and even. “I apologize. That was… I should not have-... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He all but fled back to his glass, drinking the rest of it in a few quick swallows, breathing harshly as the warmth spread but could not fight the cold loathing of himself that one small slap had brought to the surface. He set it back down with a shaking hand, putting the other up against his forehead, closing his eyes tightly against the hot rush of tears that he would not allow to fall.

Once he felt more in control of himself, he took the deepest breath he could, expanding his lungs until he felt they might burst, and then slowly exhaled again. 

When he found the courage - just barely - to chance another look at his father’s creature, the monster was watching him with the first genuine, open expression he’d seen it make. 

It was surprised.

There was a pause while it stared at him, and he stared back. Then, it said, in the same low voice always, “Help her.”

“What?”

“Kiraya Losna. Help her, and save us.”

“Save… you?”

It hesitated, and just as it opened its mouth to speak again, the door swung open. Ford turned on his heel to try and look unsurprised, but it was only his father’s butler.

“Miss Kiraya Losna and Miss Nathalie will be escorted momentarily to the dining room,” Babbage said, cheerful as always. If he was even able to sense the tension in the room, he seemed to ignore it. Although perhaps he couldn’t see anything but whatever Ford’s father wanted him to see. “Your father is already seated, Master Ford. You will join him now, you and your friend.”

Ford’s eyes shifted to the monster and then back. “My-... Ah. Of course, Babbage, thank you.”

Babbage bowed his head, briefly, and then walked away on silent feet. He always moved like that - he’d caught Ford at childish nonsense many times in his childhood, because he was impossible to hear unless he wanted to be heard.

Although Ford could have sworn he’d once or twice heard Babbage shouting in the night, incomprehensible, silenced before Ford had ever been able to quite understand what was wrong. And each time, he was right as rain the next morning, with a smile and a welcoming pat on the shoulder. 

Ford took steps that felt like walking to a gallows, the monster falling in just behind him, as if they were old friends. He could feel its presence at his back, goosebumps rising on his arms, but there was no threat, no danger. Only his own nerves pouring acid through his veins. 

“Help her,” The monster whispered once more. “If you are not your father, then be a man better than him. Free me and I will harm no more of you. Go to her room and bring her down to speak to me. Free me. Please. Please.”

“I do not trust you, monster,” He murmured, barely moving his lips. “Why should I believe your words at all?”

“Better to hope for my honesty than to fear your father’s anger.”

Ford’s teeth ground together. What could he possibly say to that? His father would be furious beyond all reason if he let his prisoner loose to roam the halls of the house or run away entirely. His rage would be all-encompassing. He might decide to marry Nathalie or-... god forbid, one of the twins off instead. Damning them to the fate he now faced seemed a worse sin than any other.

But…

The monster did not seem to want to be here. If it wanted only to escape, his father’s control would be shattered, and Ford could be free.

If it was only trying to lead him to the slaughter, well… That would be terrible. But if it was looking to escape and he did nothing, then… his father’s monster would doom him to lose his mind and then his life. It wouldn’t even care about the loss. Indeed, it would make sure no one cared about the loss in the end, the way his mother had mourned his true father only for a night before she seemed to simply forget he had ever existed as anything but a faint, lovely daydream by noon the next day. 

His life, all his wants and dreams and wishes for his future would dissipate like smoke, unmourned, unmissed, because of this thing that sat in a chair like a man and sang magic like a demon. 

But it was the same thing that was begging him for help.

Help her.

Ford squared his shoulders, straightened his spine, and stepped into the dining room like a man preparing for a fight.

-

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee @angelsproject

#fantasy whump #original writing #fantasy writing #whump #captivity #it as a pronoun #light dehumanization #referenced child abuse #traumatized whumpee #mentioned murder #mentioned mind control #magic whump #original fantasy #fiction #original fiction #fantasy world #siren whump

[bloody-bee-tea]

IntiMarch 2024 Day 19 - Trust me enough

The prompt for this was "I'm here for you"

Suguru is an insanely private person, Satoru had enough time by now to realise that. Sure, Suguru talks about what he likes and dislikes and he shares funny little thoughts with Satoru, but he never ever talks about his childhood, his parents or any other relatives.

Satoru knows that Suguru is living alone, even though he’s never been to his place, and that’s all, really.

It’s not that he minds it, much. Suguru is his best friend, despite the obvious holes in his lives and even though he never talks about any of that Satoru doesn’t feel as if he’s being kept out of the loop or if Suguru is keeping secrets from him.

Suguru is still the person Satoru trusts most. It just seems like maybe Satoru isn’t the one Suguru trusts the most because he very adamantly does not want to talk about why he looks like shit.

“You sleeping okay?” Satoru asks well into their evening, when Suguru is half asleep on the couch, listing more and more towards Satoru, his eyebags so deep that for a moment Satoru thought it was make-up.

“Sure,” Suguru’s non-answer is to that and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Bullshit,” he whispers, which makes Suguru tense for a moment, before Satoru simply pulls him closer towards himself. “Sleep here if you can’t at home,” he decides and Suguru doesn’t even seem to have the energy to protest that, because he goes heavy against Satoru and then that’s that.

He doesn’t even wake when Satoru drags him over to his bed and that, too, is worrying.

It’s not often that Suguru stays over, but it’s by far not the first time they share a bed, so Satoru has no qualms about sliding in right behind him, already thinking about what he could make Suguru for breakfast tomorrow.

These days he’s always buying food for two, because he wants to be prepared for when Suguru drops by without a notice and looking as if he’s ready to keel over at any time.

Satoru is not much of a cook, but during that time period where Suguru lost a few pounds for no reason whatsoever he learned how to cook decently well. It’s still not one of his favourite things to do but he knows enough by now to make balanced meals that won’t kill the both of them in a week or so.

Suguru had regained his weight with Satoru’s constant pestering and so mostly Satoru doesn’t even feel bad about it.

Except for the fact that he needs to pester Suguru in the first place because he’s not taking care of himself. Or he’s trying too hard to take care of himself.

No matter what, Satoru knows he’ll have to bring it up and rather soon, because seeing Suguru waste away in front of him like that is not something he enjoys doing.

But that is a conversation for the next morning.

~*~*~

When Satoru wakes up, Suguru is already awake. He’s still in bed though, and he does seem marginally more rested than the night before so Satoru counts it as a win.

“Had trouble sleeping?” Satoru asks, lazily stretching and daring to throw a glance at the clock.

It’s fucking early and Satoru falls back into bed with a groan.

“No, not when I’m here,” Suguru gives back and it has Satoru perking up, because that is more than he usually gets out of Suguru.

“Listen, Suguru,” he starts and watches how Suguru almost immediately clams down on him.

“Don’t, Satoru,” he warningly says and Satoru shakes his head, his hands reaching out to tangle in Suguru’s shirt.

“No, you will listen,” he orders him and he’s not afraid to stare him down.

Other people might be scared by that gaze but not Satoru, never has been and never will be. Suguru really should know better than that.

Suguru stays stubbornly quiet, but that’s fine since it’s what Satoru expected to happen in the first place and it’s not as if he needs Suguru to talk anyway.

“I just wanted to say, that no matter what, I am here for you. If you ever feel like talking about what the hell is going on with you, then I’m here. You can tell me anything, though I hope you already know that. I just—” Satoru bites his lower lip as he reaches out to push Suguru’s bang away from his face. “I just want you to be okay. And if I can help in any way, then you’ll let me know, alright.”

Suguru continues to stay quiet, which is fine and all, so Satoru gives him a small smile.

“That’s all. Now, any special orders for breakfast?” he then asks as he untangles himself from the blanket and from Suguru and gets out of bed.

“Put some fruit in whatever the hell you’re making, you always eat too much sugar,” Suguru says as if Satoru isn’t the one who has been in charge of keeping both of them healthy lately, but he still nods.

“Sure thing, boss.”

“And Satoru?” Suguru calls out for him, just as he’s about to leave the room.

“Mh?” he asks and turns back, surprised to see the serious look on Suguru’s face.

“Thank you. I—can’t, yet, or maybe ever, but—thanks.”

“Always, Suguru, I promise,” Satoru replies, his heart fluttering in his chest, because this is the very first time that Suguru even so much as hinted at the fact that something might not be okay.

It’s a start and Satoru will gladly take it.

~*~*~

Suguru’s health continues to decline. His face is gaunt, his eyes are tired, the bags are permanent and his appetite is almost non-existent.

Things have never been perfectly fine for Suguru, Satoru knows that because he was already working a job by the time they met and it was more than clear the he kind of needed that one to stay alive but this is reaching new heights.

New worrying heights, Satoru despairingly thinks as he watches Suguru push the food on his table around instead of eating it.

“Suguru,” he carefully starts and Suguru is so out of it that he only gets a weak grunt in reply. “How many jobs are you working?” Satoru wants to know because he suspects it’s no longer just one.

“Two, sometimes three,” Suguru lifelessly replies and Satoru is honestly just waiting for the moment his head drops forward, right into their dinner, like in the movies.

There are a lot of things Satoru wants to ask, wants to know, but he definitely knows that if he pushes too hard or goes on and on with his questions, Suguru will clam up again and he doesn’t want them to fight.

Suguru is so much more prone to fights lately, his temper short and bad and Satoru blames the sleep deprivation and the malnourishment.

So Satoru doesn’t say anything more, and instead puts a few vegetables on Suguru’s plate. He loves those, usually, and Satoru hopes that maybe like this he’ll at least get a little bit of food into him.

It doesn’t work and even though Satoru’s heart sinks, he lets it go.

At least for now.

~*~*~

Suguru’s hands are shaking as he picks up his glass of water and Satoru notices it with worry. Suguru is running himself ragged with whatever the hell he’s doing and Satoru can hardly stand to see it.

“Suguru, are you okay?” he asks, out of the blue and in the middle of a rather dramatic monologue in the movie they are watching but he couldn’t care less.

He only cares about Suguru.

Suguru gives him a warning glance but when Satoru doesn’t back down he lets out a deep sigh.

“I’m staying safe,” he says as if that’s any kind of answer to the question Satoru just asked and so Satoru leans forward, closer into Suguru’s space.

“Okay, but. Are you okay?” he asks again and just like that Suguru bursts into tears.

It’s so surprising that it takes Satoru a few seconds to react but then he’s quick to pull Suguru in his arms.

He shakes and he sobs and he cries for a very long time, and it feels as if Satoru’s heart is being torn into two.

Suguru should never be like this, should never be as desperate and defeated as he is now and Satoru wishes he would just talk to him so that maybe Satoru can fix it.

When Suguru’s sobs die down, Satoru nuzzles the top of his head and asks: “What do you need?”

“To not work three jobs,” Suguru bitterly mutters, his voice still heavy with tears and Satoru nods.

“Okay. Do you need to do that for rent?”

“Among other things,” Suguru cryptically gives back and Satoru sighs.

“If you were to live here, would that make things better?” he asks and curses under his breath when that makes Suguru pull away.

“Satoru,” he warningly says, but his face is still read and there are tear tracks on his face, so there is no way in hell that Satoru is going to back down right now.

“Answer me.”

“I—I could maybe drop one job,” Suguru finally admits, “but I can’t do that, Satoru, you don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me. Why can’t you?”

He’s not asking for the reason Suguru is working three jobs, or what ‘other things’ even entail; all he wants to know is why Suguru cannot move in with him and not bother with rent anymore.

“What if you get sick of me or we fight or something? I’d have nothing.”

It’s a valid concern, even though it makes Satoru wonder what Suguru had to go through so far to have to worry about something like that, but it’s also an easy fix.

“We’ll write you in the lease. That way it’ll be your apartment, too, and you have a legal right to be here, even if I should want kick you out. How’s that?”

“And I pay half the rent?”

“No rent,” Satoru shakes his head. “Absolutely not. It’s not as if—you said one job. Living here with me would only allow you to quit one job.”

“Yeah,” Suguru says, already closed off again and Satoru knows that he’s not getting any kind of explanation as to why he needs the jobs in the first place.

“What if—what if we do the same thing with my bank account?” he asks and Suguru stares at him with huge eyes.

“Huh?”

“I mean—you know I have more money than I reasonably know what to do with thanks to my family, so—why not use that? We can make it a shared bank account and you can take as much or as little as you need. We’d pay the rent from that account too, so it’s almost as if you’re paying your share and then you don’t have to worry about money again.”

“Fucking rich people,” Suguru mutters under his breath but some of the desperation has left his eyes and that’s all that matters to Satoru right now.

“I’d still want to work one job and save that money up in case—”

Things with us go wrong, Suguru doesn’t say but Satoru hears it loud and clear.

“Suguru, I don’t want you to stop working at all, not if you enjoy doing it. I just want you to stop working three jobs at once and killing yourself over it.”

Suguru works his jaw, clearly thinking things over and Satoru—for once in his life—is content to wait him out.

It’s important that he doesn’t push him too far too soon, because he definitely doesn’t want Suguru to shut down on him again.

“I’d—have to think about it,” Suguru finally says and Satoru lets out a breath of relief.

That’s better than he dared to hope for, if he’s being honest.

“That’s fine,” he immediately agrees and tries to pull Suguru into another hug again, but he stops him with a hand on his chest.

“Satoru, I might not ever tell you,” he warns him, without elaborating but Satoru understands anyway.

“That’s fine, Suguru,” he gives back and tugs on Suguru’s arm until he gets the hint and crashes into Satoru’s chest. “You either tell me all of it, or just some or none at all and it’s all fine. If you don’t want to talk about it, then that’s fine, just know that I’m here. If that changes, I’m here.”

“It—it’s not just me, Satoru. I can’t—it’s not just me. If I fuck up, it’s not just me that’s going to suffer.”

A thousand questions are at the tip of Satoru’s tongue at hearing that but he swallows them all down. He already pushed enough for today, Suguru’s admission is proof enough of that.

“Okay. Think about it. The offer stands and it has no expiration date.”

It’s all Satoru can do, at the moment, besides being there for Suguru.

Suguru opened up more to him than ever before and for now it has to be enough.

~*~*~

Satoru wakes up to incessant knocking at his door. He groans as he rolls around to check the time and then he curses when he realises it’s the middle of the night. Satoru has half a mind ignoring whoever it is that’s disturbing his sleep right now but the knocking doesn’t slow down and there’s no way Satoru can get any more sleep like this.

So he rolls out of bed, disgruntled and mad, and he hopes both those emotions show on his face as he yanks open the door.

Only to freeze completely in surprise when he spots Suguru at the other side, with a little girl in his arms and one standing behind him.

Suguru looks scared and tired and weary and both girls are silently crying.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru says when Satoru can’t find his voice fast enough and it finally jolts Satoru into action.

“Come in, come in,” he steps to the side, motions for them to get in, and only barely catches the girl still standing when she falls forward as her support moves away.

“Fuck, Nanako,” Suguru mutters, but Satoru hoists her up in his arms and the girl is asleep before her head hits his shoulder.

“I’ve got her. Let’s put them down in my bed. Do they need something?” he asks, gently pushing Suguru towards his bedroom.

“No, they just—sleep would be good.”

Not just for the girls, Satoru suspects, and so he nods.

“Alright, off we go then.”

They get the girls situated quickly and silently and when Suguru wants to leave the room with Satoru, Satoru stops him with a hand to his chest.

“You, too, Suguru,” he says with a nod towards the bed.

“I need to explain,” Suguru protests and Satoru narrows his eyes at him.

“Is anything you want to explain to me time sensitive? Do you have to be somewhere tomorrow, is something going to happen if you don’t do something on time?” he asks and waits until Suguru shakes his head. “Then off to bed you go,” he says and pushes Suguru back towards the bed. “I’ll be here and we can talk after you got some sleep.”

“Fine, fine,” Suguru mutters and then pulls Satoru into a hug. “Thank you.”

It’s not as if Satoru has done a whole lot yet, but he still hugs Suguru back before he shoves him towards the bed again.

Satoru is burning with questions but Suguru seems ready to keel over at any moment and an explanation can wait until the next day.

~*~*~

Satoru wakes up to the smell of coffee. His back hurts something fierce from sleeping on the couch but he drags himself up anyway because the coffee smells exactly like he usually takes it and he’s not surprised to find Suguru in the kitchen, most of the breakfast already done.

“Good morning,” Satoru says, making a beeline to his coffee and Suguru briefly turns away from the stove to give him a small smile.

“Morning.”

Suguru quickly finishes the last two pancakes before he drops everything on the table and sits down opposite of Satoru.

“Are you awake, like, truly?” Suguru asks and Satoru would be offended if it wasn’t such a valid question.

Suguru has had whole conversations with him he doesn’t remember a word of because he was still half asleep at the time.

“I am truly awake,” Satoru promises him and Suguru sighs.

“Okay, explanations then,” he whispers and Satoru’s hand shoots out, covering Suguru’s with his.

“If you want to. You are under no obligation to tell me anything,” he reminds him because it’s important that Suguru knows that.

Sure, Satoru can’t deny that he has a million questions but if Suguru doesn’t want to answer a single one, then Satoru would rather take a no than make Suguru do something he doesn’t want to do.

“I know,” Suguru quietly admits. “I know that, Satoru. I want to. It’s long overdue anyway, I shouldn’t ever have kept any of this a secret.”

Maybe, Satoru wants to agree, but it’s not his place to say and Suguru will have had his reasons, so he bites his tongue and stays quiet.

“The girls were fostered in the same family that I was,” Suguru starts. “Nanako and Mimiko. I—they are eight now. My foster parents got them shortly before I moved out and I talked to the CPS about it but they didn’t listen. My foster parents—things weren’t nice there,” Suguru admits and doesn’t quite dare to meet Satoru’s eyes. “I didn’t want the girls growing up there but no one was listening to me.”

“So you kept in touch,” Satoru guesses, focusing on that instead of anything else Suguru just said. The girls didn’t seem like they were afraid of a stranger last night. They seemed to trust Suguru.

“I tried to keep visiting,” Suguru agrees with a sigh. “My foster parents quickly caught on and demanded money in exchange.”

“You had to pay to see them?” Satoru asks for clarification and lets out a long breath when Suguru nods.

That certainly explains the three jobs he was working.

“I wasn’t ever allowed to see them at home, though, they always dropped them off somewhere. Nanako and Mimiko are bright girls, lively and wonderful, but they got quieter and quieter the more time passed. They wouldn’t talk to me anymore, wouldn’t mention what was going on at home at all. It worried me.”

“And I’d guess rightfully so.”

“Yeah. I went there, yesterday, without prior announcement. I still know where they keep the keys, so I got in. Satoru, you don’t know—” Suguru breaks off with a sob and Satoru moves around the table to hug him.

“They kept them in a cage,” Suguru hisses out between his tears and Satoru goes cold all over.

“What?”

“There was this huge fucking cage in the living-room, like a kennel. They kept them like dogs!”

“Fucking hell,” Satoru whispers because what else is there to say, really.

“I tried to get them out but my foster parents came home before I found the key. They attacked me with a knife for it.”

“They did what? Suguru, are you hurt?” Satoru frantically asks, moving away to flutter his hands all over Suguru’s body, trying to spot any injury.

“I’m fine, Satoru, I’m fine. A paramedic already checked me out, I got one surface slash; it got bandaged and that’s it.”

“You called an ambulance?”

“And the police, too, after I knocked both of them unconscious. All of this happened in the afternoon; I’ve been at the station since maybe 4pm,” Suguru tells him and it’s no wonder that he seems absolutely exhausted.

“What’s going to happen now?” Satoru asks because if the police is involved things might be difficult for Suguru.

“The girls said they want to stay with me, and I also said that I’m amenable to that. I can foster them, no problem.”

“But?” Satoru asks because he senses a big but coming.

He knows Suguru too well after all.

“I—” Suguru awkwardly clears his throat. “I might have told the police that I’m moving in with my boyfriend and I gave them your address for any further correspondence.”

Satoru’s heart threatens to beat right out of his chest but he forces himself to appear calm, even though he feels anything but.

“Suguru, you don’t have to, you know that, right? My offer stands, no matter what and if we have to move to a bigger apartment to accommodate all of you in separate rooms, then that’s no problem. You don’t have to do that because you think you owe me or anything.”

“What if I’m doing it because I’m in love with you?” Suguru gives back and leans in, almost close enough for their lips to meet. “What then?”

“Then I’d say you’re moving in with your boyfriend,” Satoru whispers, before he closes the distance between them. “But I just need to make it clear that you can change your mind at any time. The last few weeks must have been hell for you and I just want you to be okay, no matter what. If this isn’t what you want—”

“Satoru I’ve been in love with you since basically the moment I met you,” Suguru interrupts him with a chuckle and Satoru gapes at him.

“I see,” he finally mutters, darting in to press a kiss to the corner of Suguru’s mouth. “Alright then.” One more kiss. “Are the girls okay with sharing a room or do we have to move?”

“I think for now they are okay with that,” Suguru replies and pulls Satoru so close that he doesn’t have another choice but to sit on his lap. “Thank you. Seriously, Satoru, you’re the best. I don’t know if I could have done any of this without knowing you’d have my back.”

“I always have your back, no matter what.”

“And me coming with the girls now is not too much?”

“Hell no,” Satoru immediately says because he honestly means it that no matter what, he’ll always be in Suguru’s corner. And if he allows it he’ll always be by his side, too.

“I love you,” Suguru sighs out at hearing that and drops his head to Satoru’s shoulder.

“I love you, too, kids and all,” Satoru replies, burying his hand in Suguru’s hair, and pressing a kiss to it as well.

There will be a lot of phone calls to make—changing the lease and the bank account, first and foremost—before they get Suguru’s stuff from his apartment and buy things for the girls, but for right now, Satoru enjoys this quiet moment in his kitchen.

It’ll likely be the last for a while, he thinks when he hears the tell-tale squeak of his bedroom door opening, but as long as Suguru is here, Satoru couldn’t mind that less.

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #no curses #angst #hurt/comfort #referenced child abuse #getting together #found family

[sergeantsporks]

I think your still taking these so, writing request:

Hunter just casually truma dumping, thinking his experience is normal, and the adults are horrified.

CW: Referenced child abuse

“Hey, Hunter!”

Hunter looked up from his checklist at Camila’s call. “Oh. Hi. Enjoying the party?”

Camila chuckled, squeezing between two demons to get to him. “Excuse me—pardon. You look great, I love the eyeball hat.” She stopped next to him. “My first demon realm party! I think they’re finally getting used to having another human around!”

“I made the guest list.”

“Oh.”

“Not that they don’t want you here!” Hunter followed up quickly, “I mean. Helped save the isles and all that. Local hero.”

“Stop, you’ll make me blush.” Camila puffed a strand of hair out of her face. “You did a great job planning, sweetheart. Everyone looks like they’re having fun! I’d say this ‘yay we rebuilt Hexside’ opening party is a success.”

Hunter flushed, looking down at his checklist. “Thanks. I did a lot of research, and Darius helped with a few of the details. But I still have to make sure everything runs smoothly. Party’s not over yet, and a lot of things could go wrong!”

“Ah, relax, kid.” Eda came around from behind him and handed Camila a cup of punch. “Enjoy your own party! Take a break, you did the hard part, and now it’s time to kick back! Here.” She held out another cup of punch, and Hunter fumbled with his clipboard, shifting it and his pen to one hand.

“Uh—thaaaaaaanksssssss…” Hunter sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, okay, nice try. You’re not going to get me that easy, Eda.”

“Get you what now?”

Hunter pushed the cup back towards her. “Very funny. Give it up.”

“Give what up?”

“I know it’s poison. Good joke, good try, but I have a party to run, and I’m not going to fall for it.”

“What? I’m not trying to poison you, I’m trying to hydrate you, nerd.”

Hunter chuckled. “Okay, sure. You drink it, then.”

Eda rolled her eyes, downed the punch, then ate the cup. “There. No punch for you.”

“Eda,” Camila scolded.

“What? The owl beast likes eating weird things!”

“Birds can’t eat plastic!”

“Most birds don’t have teeth inside their stomach, either.”

Hunter eyed Eda. “Your commitment is admirable. Please get an antidote soon.”

“For the—okay, maybe I’m tempted now, but why would I want to poison you?!”

“Geeze, you don’t get out much, huh? When was the last time you went to a party?”

“I—” Eda sputtered, “What?!”

Bump glided over. “What’s the problem, here?”

“Eda drank poison and is still denying it,” Hunter told him, “When she collapses, please take her to the healing homeroom.

“WHAT?!”

Hunter tapped his pen against his lips. “Don’t worry, the party will go on as normal, I planned for a poisoning.”

“You did what?!”

Hunter chuckled. “This isn’t my first party. Although I’m usually the one who ends up poisoned somehow. This is a nice change.”

“Hunter?” Camila asked in a strangled whisper, “What do you mean?”

Hunter waved a hand. “Oh, you know the saying! It’s not a party ‘til someone gets poisoned!” He looked up at the adults, who were all just staring at him, facial expressions ranging from pity to downright horror. “What? Lilith used to say it all the time. Usually right after someone, usually me, got poisoned. Sure, it was probably meant for one of the coven heads and not me at the time, but I was probably the only one with any poison resistance training anyway, so that was for the best.” Hunter clicked his pen back and forth a couple of times. “Eda, I don’t know how much poison… resistance… you’ve…”

Click, click, click, click.

“Why are you all staring at me like that?”

Click, click, click, click, clickclickclickclickclick.

“Hunter,” Camila started gently.

Clickclickclickclickclickclick.

“’s not normal, is it.”

“Well, I’ve heard a similar saying!” Bump tried, “Granted, it was about crying, not poisoning, but…”

Hunter tossed the pen against the clipboard. “Of course it’s not normal. Of course not. Why can’t one thing be normal, why can’t I have ever done one normal thing in my life? Why is everything about my life wrong to everyone?!”

“Hey—” Eda held her hands up. “Hunter—”

“I get it, okay? I get that—that Belos—I got it, the hot and cold treatment wasn’t normal, getting told I was special but replaceable wasn’t normal, getting…” Hunter’s breath hitched in his chest, and he clutched at his head. “…getting hurt by him wasn’t normal,” he whispered, “I got all that. But why can’t any one thing I say ever be normal?!”

He looked up at the adults who were all just looking, they were all just staring at him, and it wasn’t just Bump, and Camila, and Eda, it was everyone. They’d all stopped dancing, or talking, or eating just to stare.

Hunter’s heart thudded in his chest, and he walked towards the door as quickly as he could without running, pushing past the people who kept staring at him, their eyes burning into his back.

The instant he made it to the hallway, he ran, bolting through the hallways and away from the gym. He pushed through a set of doors and hopped up onto a stage, stomping over to the wings, behind the curtain, where it was dark and quiet. Hunter slid down the wall, landing with a whump on the ground.

Why can’t something just be normal?

Why can’t you just be normal?

Why do you always make everyone uncomfortable?!

“Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut,” he whispered into the darkness, “Maybe Belos was right about that.”

Footsteps echoed down the hallway—the clicks of Eda’s heels, the tap of Camila’s flats, and a heavier thump.

“This seems… more your kind of situation,” Camila’s voice murmured.

Hunter heard the sound of a clap. “Yeah, stuff from the coven we don’t understand is your wheelhouse.”

The door to the auditorium creaked open—apparently no one had oiled the hinges in all of the repairs—and those heavy thumps came towards the stage.

“Go away!” Hunter called, “Eda said it, the party will be fine, even if I’m not there.”

“Who cares about the party?” Darius snorted, leaning against the wall next to Hunter, “Well. You do. But I’m not here for the party.”

“You should go anyway. Just leave me here, I did all that work for it and then I was the one who nearly ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin it. Even if you did, what’s the point of throwing a party if you don’t get to dramatically ruin it?” Darius waved a hand. “I’ve had a couple of parties… but that’s beside the point.”

Hunter curled his knees to his chest. “I didn’t do anything normal. Ever. And it’s not even just like—like I just missed out on experiences, it’s like I did the opposite of things that are normal.”

“Mmm. That’s not true. You had a teenage rebellion. That’s normal.”

“I mean before. Before I went to the human realm, before I met Luz, nothing I did was normal. Nothing at all. Even the parties, parties are normal things, but the ones I went to… what was normal at those gatherings aren’t normal party things.”

Darius let out a long sigh. “Poisonings at those parties wasn’t normal, either.”

“What?”

“They weren’t normal.”

“But Lilith always said—”

“Lilith didn’t say that because it was normal, Lilith said that so she could appear calm and in control. Lilith said that to keep the party from going sour and tarnishing her reputation. Lilith investigated each case thoroughly and obsessively afterwards, and she always found the culprit.”

“But they were normal to me, Darius!” Hunter stood, grabbing Darius’ arms, as if that would make him understand. “They were normal to me, and that’s the problem! It was normal to me to get poisoned on the regular, it was normal to not have any friends, it was normal to get up at five in the morning, it was normal, all of it was normal! It was normal for Belos to lash out, it was normal for Belos to hit me, it was normal!” He let go of Darius’ arms, sinking back down to the floor and hugging himself. “And now it’s not.”

Darius let out a long sigh, then finally dropped down next to Hunter, one knee up, and his arm resting on that knee. “I had a normal childhood.”

“Good for you?”

“Thanks. I had a normal childhood. And then from the moment I met your predecessor, nothing else was normal. It’s not normal for your mentor to disappear mysteriously. It’s not normal to become a coven head at age twenty. It’s not normal to find out that your emperor is planning on exterminating his entire realm, or at least I don’t think it is. It wasn’t normal for some kid to be running around the coven in a high rank position. It isn’t normal for me to ignore that. It’s not normal for a god-child to burst out of nowhere and turn the isles into his playplace. None of my adulthood has been normal.” Darius waved a hand at the air in front of him. “Camila’s child disappeared to another dimension, and then she traveled to another realm herself to fight a dictator and a god child! That’s not normal! And Eda—actually, I don’t think Eda’s had a single normal day in her entire life.”

Darius settled back again. “My point is, the isles haven’t exactly been ‘normal.’ Not for a while. No one’s had a perfectly normal life. Not you. Not me. Not anyone.”

“Then why does everyone act like it’s the worst thing to happen?!”

Darius drew a hand over his face with a long sigh. “It’s not because it’s not normal, Hunter, it’s… it’s because you got hurt, and you don’t seem to think that you did. And they—we—get worried that you’ll be hurt again, and that you won’t realize it, because you think it’s just normal. And that’s why they look at you like that. We want to make sure you know it wasn’t normal, because we don’t want it to happen to you again. Does that make sense?”

Hunter sighed. “I guess.”

“We’re not leaving this auditorium until you’re sure.”

“It’s because they care,” Hunter grumbled, “I know. I know it’s because they care.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it. If they make you uncomfortable when they do that, you just have to tell them. They’ll understand, they won’t be angry.”

“Mhm.”

Darius got up, dusting his cape off. “I see that I have my exhausted my ‘get in touch with your feelings’ limit for the day, and you’re just agreeing so that you can leave this conversation, so I suppose that means said conversation is over.”

“It’s not you, it’s…”

“You know it in your head, but you don’t really feel it, of course, of course.” Darius snapped his fingers, and Hunter’s clipboard appeared in a bubble of abomination. “I will take over making sure the party runs smoothly. You go enjoy it. Titan knows you should get some fun out of it after all that planning and stressing. Really. I swear you are like one of those human sharks, if you stop moving you die.”

Hunter scrambled to his feet. “Are you sure?”

Darius waved a hand. “Yes, yes, yes. I just walk around and check things off this list? Excellent. Now go. Oh, and Hunter?”

“Yes?”

“No one will get poisoned on my watch.”

#toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #referenced child abuse #my writing #writing requests #dadrius #darius deamonne #toh hunter #camila noceda #eda clawthorne

[inorganicone2230]

Purity (Finale Part 2 of 2) Yandere!Overhaul x Fem!Reader

Finale Part 1 of 2

Summary: Overhaul meets a quirkless foreigner who holds some very interesting views on his way of thinking. The more time he spends with her, the more he wants to keep her and her purity for himself. And he has no problem with falling to the depths of obsession if it means getting what he wants.

Other Warnings: Trigger warnings, mentions of past domestic and physical abuse, blackmail, referenced kidnapping, referenced rape, referenced physical abuse/torture, emotional and mental manipulation, toxic relationship, gaslighting, forced pregnancy, VERY YANDERE!!! See tags for more…

Side Note: I do NOT and never will condone the actions committed in this and future chapters, please be mindful and respectful of the fact that all of this is purely fiction.

“Good night, Mama.” Kazue’s sleepy little voice whispered as you watched him snuggle down so far into his pillow and blankets that all you could see was his head of chestnut hair, a perfectly matched shade and cut to Kai’s.

“Good night, baby. Sweet dreams.” You replied, smiling and quietly closing the door just enough that some light from the hallway would leak in for him before moving onto Eri’s room. 

Kazue was such an easy child to raise, probably because he took after his father in so many ways. He adored Kai and wanted to be just like him when he grew up, and it was a notion that you were still slowly coming to terms with. Now that he had a better handle on it, Kai and some of the other Precepts were just beginning to teach him how to fight and use his quirk, which had developed a little over a year ago and it was giving you some major anxiety, even if, rationally, you knew it was a necessary thing to do. He was your baby boy after all, and you hated the thought of him being put in any kind of danger, regardless if it was in a controlled environment or not. But, as Kai had so logically pointed out, he needed to learn how to control his quirk early on, because if he didn’t, he could become a serious threat to himself and to others.

The question of whether or not Kazue would even develop a quirk at all was always a hot topic amongst those in yours and Kai’s ‘inner circle’, what with you being quirkless and all, and a few of them, your sister included, had even started betting on the outcome. So the day it finally happened, when Kazue had been throwing a rarely seen temper tantrum and unintentionally overhauled a small toy that had been in his hand, it came as a bit of a shock.

As expected, Kazue’s own quirk was nearly identical to Kai’s in every way, except for one, that being his didn’t work on organic material. Kai had actually breathed a sigh of relief when that particular detail had come to light.

When you asked him about it that night, as the two of you laid in bed and he rested the side of his head on your stomach while you traced idle patterns on the skin of his bare back. He told you the story of how his quirk was so late to develop, that he was actually thought to be quirkless himself. His birth parents weren’t kind people by any means, and having a supposedly quirkless son was like receiving a slap in the face to them. His mother, thankfully, ignored him most of the time, but his father was much more keen on showing his displeasure via his fists, and one day, during a particularly harsh beating, he’d lifted a hand to try and fend off a punch to the face, and the moment his father’s fist collided with it, he’d exploded in a shower of blood and gore. His mother had come in only a few seconds later, took one look at the bloody sight and fainted before she could even scream. He’d walk out of the house right after that, with nothing but the clothes he had on, and he never once bothered to look back.

He’d only been ten at the time, and he spent the next year and a half living on the streets. He practiced alone and taught himself how to use and control his quirk, learning its limits and what exactly he could do with it, scavenging for food in dumpsters or stealing what he needed from other street rats or homeless people. And that’s how he’d lived, until the old man, Pops, had found him and taken him in.

That’s why he was so relieved that Kazue wouldn’t ever have to worry about accidentally overhauling anyone. He didn’t feel guilty about how his father died, but he didn’t want his own son to have to go through the potential guilt if he unintentionally hurt a loved one. 

Kai, as a father, did have many good qualities that you could see your children picking up on, like his excellent manners and his penchant for cleanliness and organization, but there were also many you hoped they would never inherit or try to emulate, like his anger and controlling attitude. But even those traits had tempered over the years since your son’s birth, and though you still harbored a deep resentment in regards to the hand life had dealt you, you were now a big enough person to admit that Kai was a wonderful father. It didn’t erase his past sins or mean he was now an inherently better person, because you knew that his newfound gentleness and more mellow temper only extended to a select few people outside of you and the children, but it was a continued step in a better direction. And given the circumstances that brought you all to this point, you could surmise that this was better than nothing.

As you approached Eri’s bedroom a little ways down the hall, you smiled at the brightly painted purple door. It was adorned with a multitude of colorful stickers, ranging from pretty butterflies and fairies, to cartoonishly styled items of food; like a dancing hamburger and a very shiny pile of takoyaki. But what stood out the most was the chalkboard she had hung there last year. She wrote down a weekly list of everything she planned on cooking for the week and encouraged everyone who had access to it to write down suggestions. There was even a step stool left next to the door so that she and Kazue could easily reach it.

And speaking of Kazue, you noticed right away that he had jotted down, in his own messy script, a suggestion for homemade dino-nuggies, and right below that was an agreement from Rappa, though he had specified that they be manly dino-nuggies, whatever that meant. Even Kai had made a suggestion, this one for the beef stew with star anise, the very same one she’d been making the first time she called him ‘Papa’. It was a personal favorite of his, and while you weren’t sure if Eri knew the specific reason as to why, she always made it every time he asked for it.

Knocking on the door, you waited to be given permission before entering.

Eri, now eleven years old, was sitting up in her pink canopy bed, the room bathed in the twinkling of tea lights and the warm glow of the lamps she preferred to use for lighting over the brighter overhead light.

She was writing down notes in one of her many journals while she watched a cooking show on the TV and smiled when you came in. It came as quite the surprise to you when Kai got her the large flat-screen and set it up with a few streaming services for her, especially since he normally didn’t care for television in the slightest. When you asked him about it, he told you that he just wanted to do what he could to encourage her passions, and since he couldn’t hire a teacher or send her to a culinary school, for obvious reasons, this was the next best option he could think of. He even got her a tablet that she could use for when she was in the kitchen, to look things up and watch videos for more complicated steps and recipes.

Like with all things though, Kai had certainly covered all his bases where this aspect of your lives was concerned.

Any devices you all had access to were specifically designed and programmed to avoid being able to contact anyone from the outside world. Kai controlled all the passwords and had the internet usage heavily monitored at all times, and while you tried your best to ignore that detail, you wouldn’t deny that you had tried logging into some of your old social media accounts on your own tablet back when he first gifted it to you, only to find that access to such sites were totally blocked. You couldn’t even contact site moderators or IT for any of the sites and apps you were permitted to use.

“Hey there, Sweetheart!” You said cheerfully, pushing all those thoughts to the back of your mind as you closed the door behind you.

“Hey, Mama! What’s up?” She asked, scooting over to make room for you on the bed.

You took a seat beside her. “Nothing much, I just got Kazue to finally settle down for the night and I thought I’d come say good night to you.” You peeked at her notebook and then up at the television where a man in a stage kitchen was currently explaining how to make what appeared to be a somewhat complicated looking pastry dish, possibly a soufflé from the looks of it. “What new delicacy are you coming up with now?” You asked her.

“A dessert omelet!” She replied, her eyes shining like they always did when talking about food. “I have some eggs and fruit I need to use up, so I thought I’d give this recipe a try and fill them with fresh fruit and maybe some honey or whipped cream.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at the eagerness and joy that laced her tone. This beautiful young lady sitting beside you was so far removed from the lonely, isolated and abused child you had met all those years ago that they may as well have been two completely different people. She hadn’t been triggered or had a nightmare about the past in so long, and you prayed every day that they would never return and she could stay this happy forever and always.

“I look forward to trying them!” You told her. “I never would have thought about treating an omelet like a crepe, but now that you’ve mentioned it, it definitely sounds like it could be a good combination.” 

Eri smiled and nodded along happily. “I know Papa will probably want strawberries with his, and since he doesn’t care for anything super sweet, I bet I can replace the whipped cream with slightly sweetened yogurt or cream cheese.” She tapped her pencil against her chin and rattled off a list of all the items she had and what everyone would likely prefer with their omelet before turning to you. “Is there anything special that you want with yours, Mama?” 

You thought about it for a moment. “I definitely want some mandarin slices in mine, but other than that, it's the chef's choice.”

She smiled at you, as bright as the sun and quickly made a note of it in her journal and you got up to gather her dirty clothes into the hamper, intending to do some laundry tonight or tomorrow.

“Hay, Mama?” You heard her ask a few moments later, and the suddenly morose tone to her usually chipper voice had you immediately turning to give her your full attention.

Her head was downcast and you could see that whatever was on her mind, it was enough to make her feel like she couldn’t make eye contact with you.

“What is it, honey?” You asked gently, giving her plenty of time to voice what it was she wanted to say while you took up your seat beside her again.

“Well… it’s just…” She trailed off, biting her bottom lip and nervously wringing her hands in her lap before she finally got the words out.

“You’re not… upset or anything?”

You blinked at her like an owl, completely confused as to what she could be referring to. Had you done or said something to make her believe you were upset with her? Or had you made a negative looking facial expression?

“Eri, sweetheart, why would you think that?” You asked her worriedly. “What’s this about?”

She shrugged her slim shoulders and ducked her head further down. “I don’t know.” She whispered softly. “I guess I just got worried that my question from earlier today had upset you. You seemed really shocked by it and I can’t stop thinking that I did something wrong by mentioning it.”

It took your brain a second to catch up with what she was saying, but when it did, you breathed a sigh of relief and proceeded to wrap her up in a tight hug.

“Oh, my baby girl, you don’t need to worry about that.” You assured her, kissing the top of her head. “It did surprise me when you asked it, but not in a bad way, and I’d certainly never get upset with you for voicing anything like that out loud. You didn’t do anything wrong and I am so sorry if my reaction made you think that you had.” You gave her another tight squeeze. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t ask me things or be open with me about your thoughts and feelings. You understand?”

You felt her relax, lean into the embrace and nod in confirmation. “Thanks, Mama.” She said, nuzzling her head under your chin and you could hear the smile in her voice. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Always and forever.”

—————

You were in the midst of folding some of the laundry when Kai finally walked into the bedroom and he flashed you a tired smile as he came over to plant a small kiss on the apple of your cheek, one of the few physical touches you permitted him. You weren’t sure why you allowed it, in fact, you couldn’t even really remember when exactly you had started to allow it, but it never really seemed like a big deal, so it continued.

“How was your day?” He asked, his tone sounding exhausted, but he seemed content as he took a pile of the folded clothes from you and walked over to start depositing them in the drawers of one of the dressers.

“Same as usual.” You replied, hanging another one of his shirts on a hanger to put in his closet later and hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the strained nervousness in your voice. “How about yours, did the meeting go well?”

You saw his back go rigid for half a second before he resumed sorting the clothes into their respective drawers. “No.” He replied tightly. “Tensions were high, insults were thrown, and it ended… badly for them.”

You knew that particular phrase was code for ‘they did something to piss me off and now they’re all dead’. It was a notion you wished wholeheartedly that you weren’t so familiar with, especially not when it was an aspect of life your own son was going to have to face and deal with one day when he really started to learn the ropes from Kai, but it was undeniably a part of your life that you had, sadly, just gotten used to. And you hated yourself even more when you felt yourself biting back a small smile, because you knew exactly what it was that had put him on edge and set him off today.

You truly hadn’t meant to let his name slip out last night, but you couldn’t stop yourself from remembering the way his cock used to fill you up so perfectly, and you had been so deep in the fantasy that it had just rolled off your tongue without a second thought.

Kai had well and truly ruined you forever, you couldn’t even get off anymore without thinking of him or having him in the room with you. You knew how wrong it all was, how sick it made you, and you’d certainly berated yourself enough for it over the years. Every time you let your thoughts drift to him when you touched yourself, you hated yourself for not feeling as guilty about it as you probably should have. Every time you watched and listened to him fuck himself with his own hand, with your name on his lips, you felt yourself rising higher and higher to new forms of self loathing because you know your continued participation in, whatever this was between the two of you, was all the encouragement he needed. It was wrong on so many levels, but at some point in the last few years, you weren’t sure when exactly, you had completely given up on trying to quell those feelings and desires. It didn’t make you feel any less guilty about it after the fact, but you eventually learned that, in order to hold onto your sanity, you needed to take what comforts you could in your situation.

And physical touch had been the start of it.

You fought off that need for contact as long as you could, that urge you felt to be held in a strong embrace, and not just anyone’s arms, but his, in Kai’s specifically. And it all came to a head that night, when he’d told you about his adoptive father’s passing and you’d opened up your arms to him for the first time. You told yourself that it was mutually beneficial, that you’d get to have that itch scratched a little and you wouldn’t have to explain your reasoning too much because it could be written off as an act of compassion for the grieving father of your children. It was a win-win situation all around… or it should’ve been, if you weren’t so weak.

The familiarity of his warm body pressing against you like that had been like a balm that you hadn’t even realized you’d needed and missed until that moment.

You told yourself that you would secretly enjoy it only for as long as the night allowed and then you’d go cold turkey again, but when that next evening rolled around and the itch only grew worse, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it again, and again, and again. Every night, for months afterward, you told yourself that it would be the last, but the last night never came, and after a while, you stopped trying to fool yourself all together.

But reacquainting yourself with the intimate feel of Kai’s body during these nightly embraces had the unfortunate side effect of slowly reawakening yet another urge you now seemed wholly incapable of controlling. 

Your libido. 

When you caught Kai in the act of getting himself off that day in his office, you suddenly realized that your memory did him a great disservice. You had forgotten just how thick he was, even when compared against the size of his own large hand, the way his face looked when he was lost in pleasure, how he would grit his teeth as he tried to hold back his orgasm for as long as possible, even the way his eyes would glaze over and grow heavy lidded when release finally washed over him, all of those details were pale and drab within the confines of your memory. You’d been so desperate to get away, not just because you were disgusted with him and knowing he was watching what could only be his own personal spank-bank material featuring you and he, but because you had a brief thought that maybe you should just put yourself out of your misery and go climb into his lap and sink down on his cock. That thought, no matter how fleeting it might have been, was too much for you to handle and made you feel so unbelievably dirty.

You’d tried to ignore it, had tried to suppress that freshly reawakened feeling for the remainder of the day, but it just got worse and worse as the day wore on. Because unlike Kai, you hadn’t taken the time to get yourself off in the years since Kazue was born, not even once.

Once you were no longer being forced to endure an overwhelming amount of sexual stimulation, you found that you just had no desire to partake in it of your own accord for quite some time. That’s not to say the urge wasn’t there, you just didn’t have the mindset to want to indulge it. Kai’s treatment of your body had left you feeling disgusted with yourself. You knew that it wasn’t true and none of it had been your fault, but all the same, you still felt used and dirty. The day you woke up after your accident and Kai informed you of his decision to end all the intimacy of your relationship, you had accused him of being a sex addict, but for a while there afterwards, you didn’t feel like you were much better.

And the weeks and months following the accident had been… difficult, to say the least.

Without Kai’s hands constantly grabbing for you in his usual touch-starved manner, you almost felt more naked than all the times before when he’d actually had you bare before him. Intimacy with him had become such a common and expected occurrence in your day to day life, and when it suddenly stopped so abruptly, you honestly hadn’t been too sure what to do or how to feel. No matter how uncomfortable and unwanted the feeling was, no matter how much you tried telling yourself that it wasn't true, you genuinely felt like you had no other value outside of what pleasures your body could offer him.

But that one night, after spending the whole day with thoughts of him clouding your mind, all you had wanted was to make him suffer just the tiniest bit alongside you. 

Your little stunt with the vibrator had been a risky gamble, and a small part of you had been understandably worried that it would backfire on you and cause him to snap. But a much larger part, that part that was now capable of silently admitting to yourself what a wonderful father he was, that was the piece of you that knew he wouldn’t do anything, that he’d likely never do anything to hurt you ever again.

If nothing else, Kai had proven himself in that regard at the very least these last few years, and…

“(Y/N)?”

You jerked back in surprise when you felt warm fingers brushing your cheek and came out of your engrossing thoughts to find Kai kneeling before you with a look of confused worry on handsome face.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He asked gently. “I called out to you a few times, but you’ve just been staring blankly at that shirt you’re holding.”

You looked down to where he indicated at your hands and, sure enough, you had been wringing the fabric in your clammy hands so much that it was totally wrinkled and would need to be thrown back in the dryer for a few minutes.

Looking back up at him, you did your best to give him a reassuring smile and set the now wrinkled shirt aside and picked up another one to fold.

“I’m fine, I just have something on my mind, it’s nothing to worry about, I promise.” You told him, praying that he’d drop it and leave it alone, even as a small traitorous hope for the exact opposite bloomed in your chest when you remembered that this was Kai Chisaki you were dealing with, the man was completely incapable of dropping anything if he thought it was a hindrance on your well-being or mental state. His forceful pushiness might have mellowed out over the years, but just because his tactics had changed didn’t mean he hadn’t found other ways of getting you to talk to him about the things on your mind.

He stiffened a bit, probably not thrilled that you were keeping things from him, even if you told him they were inconsequential, but he nodded and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before slowly rising back up to his feet.

“If you’re sure, just know that I’m here if you want to talk about it.” He picked up the last little pile of clothes to put away in the drawers and walked back over to the dresser, but he continued to speak. “I know you usually talk to your sister about the things that trouble you, and what with our history together, I can’t reasonably blame you for not wanting to let me in, but I’d truly like for you to share your burdens with me, even if you think I won’t like what you have to say.”

The words he spoke rolled around in your mind at lightning speed for only a handful of seconds as you contemplated just how much what you were considering could fuck everything up for you and everyone else if it went sour, Kai included, but in the end, you found yourself unable to hold them back this time.

“Eri just asked me a question today that I wasn’t sure how to properly respond to, that’s all.”

You tried to say the sentence as nonchalantly as possible, but it still felt as if you blurted them out like utter word vomit and you cringed.

If Kai noticed or cared about that detail though, he didn’t even so much as show it, however, you could see a notable change in his posture, even with his back still turned he now had every single one of his senses trained on you, totally eager to listen to whatever it was you had to say, no matter how mundane or trivial it might be. You didn’t often talk to him about things that you found stressful or upsetting, even when those topics concerned the children, not unless you felt it was important for him to be made aware of. And you supposed this was probably one of those times, as you’d rather bring it up with him first before Eri had a chance to corner him with the same question.

“Oh?” He asked a bit breathlessly and chuckled awkwardly. “Please don’t tell me it’s time to give her ‘the talk’, because I’m not so sure I’m ready for that conversation either.” His attempt at humor to help ease you into the conversation was not lost on you and you couldn’t stop the small grateful smile that tugged at your lips as a result.

But you very quickly wiped the smile off of your face and squared your shoulders in preparation for the inevitable. There was no going back now, and this time, you didn’t let the pacing or tone of what you said next belie any of what you were truly feeling.

“She asked me if she was ever going to get another little sister?”

…

…

…

The entire world seemed to pause at that, waiting in stilled silence as the words you just spoke hung in the air between the two of you, and for the life of you, you couldn’t tell what his reaction was going to be. He was as tense and as rigid as a bowstring, but with his back turned towards you, you couldn’t see his facial expression to gauge how he might be feeling. So, you held your breath in anticipation and prayed with all your heart that telling him this wouldn’t prove itself to be a colossal mistake on your part.

When Kai did eventually speak, his voice sounded hoarse and breathless, the sound barely above a whisper. “What-” He cleared his throat as the words caught. “What did you tell her?”

You breathed a sigh of relief when he asked that and it was like a weight lifted off your shoulders. 

“I told her the truth.” You said softly, fiddling with the buttons on the shirt in your hands. “I told her that it was something for me and you to discuss privately with each other.”

Kai also seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at this and finally turned to face you. His expression was one of the softest you’d ever seen on him and his golden eyes were filled with such hope and stark longing that, had you been standing, it may very well have brought you to your knees. His own legs seemed to be shaking enough for the both of you anyway, and you briefly worried that he might just collapse then and there.

But he quickly pressed for you to go on, urging you to rip the bandaid off and cease the torment.

“And are we… discussing it?”

Before responding, you wondered how it had come to this. How in the span of a single day, you could go from loathing him, yourself, and all the things he made you feel for him, to smiling and wanting to talk about the absurdity of having another child with him, only for those feelings of contempt to circle back around and confuse you all the more. You shouldn’t want this, not with him at least, but you did. You never would have chosen to have your children with him, but now that he was their father, you would never leave or go back and change it, even if you were given the opportunity. Eri and Kazue loved and adored him, and if anything were to happen to him or take him away, it would break their hearts and you would never be able to endure that.

A therapist or even a more rational person might tell you that you had likely developed some form of Stockholm syndrome, and they would probably be right, but you were simply past the point of caring about that anymore. You would never be able to forgive him and forget about all he had done to you, and you were willing to acknowledge that you may come to regret this decision by the time morning came, but for now, this was what you wanted.

Taking a deep breath, you let the words go free and prepared yourself for what was to come, be it either good or bad.

“I want to have another baby, Kai.”

The look of absolute wonder and happiness that overtook his face was enough to make your heart flutter and you wholeheartedly expected him to rush for you, to grab up into his arms in a fit of joy and overzealous passion before dragging you to the bed to keep you there for the rest of the night.

But that’s not at all what happened…

Instead, an almost sad smile replaced the previous exuberance of his expression and he turned his back on you to continue putting away the laundry of all things, while you were left reeling from the confusion of it.

But Kai didn’t leave you in the dark regarding his unexpected behavior for very long at least as his next words answered the unspoken question.

“We’ll go and talk to Dr.Takani tomorrow and see what can be done.” He said, his tone far too even and nonchalant for it to be anything other than forced. “Our options might be limited since we can’t go to a hospital, but I promise we’ll figure out a way to make this happen.”

Your mouth was hanging open by this point and you didn’t even try to hold back the note of alarm that made your voice sound shrill and choked.

“What options? What are you talking about, Kai?”

Kai’s chuckle wasn’t one of amusement as he responded very bitterly. “Well, how else are we going to get you pregnant without IVF or artificial insemination?”

Your answer was immediate and without any hint of hesitation as you quietly whispered. “I just assumed we’d go about it the natural way… by having sex.”

You heard him let out a soft sound that was somewhere between a moan of pleasure fueled frustration, and a groan of pain as his hands went white knuckled gripping the top of the dresser.

“I-I’m sorry (Y/N), I just… I just can’t.”

…

…

…

The rejection, no matter how confusing and unexpected it was, shouldn’t have bothered you in the slightest, but it did, it really did. It tore something open in your chest that you weren’t sure could ever be repaired as tears, hot and shameful, burned your vision.

“You don’t want me…”

You didn’t intend to say it out loud, but you did, and you honestly weren’t sure if you meant for it to be taken as a question or as an accusation, but either way, it most certainly got a reaction out of him as Kai whirled around to face you, his face a mask of utter shock and confusion.

“What?!” He frantically replied. “Of course I still want you, how could you ever assume anything else after you’ve laid in bed with me and watched me stroke my cock I don’t even know how many times over the years?”

Now you were the one that was confused, even as a sense of uncomfortable relief settled over you at the knowledge that he still found you desirable.

“I don’t understand.” You whispered softly.

He looked as if he didn’t want to continue having this conversation at all, but he must have known that you wouldn’t drop it so easily, because he sighed in that particular way that told you he was about to tell you something that he thought you likely wouldn’t approve of.

“I want you, sweetheart, I want you so fucking bad it hurts, but I can’t have sex with you because I don’t trust myself to have the willpower to stop once you do get pregnant.” Was his quiet confession. “I told you before that if you ever came back to me for sex that things would go right back to the way they were, but over time, I’ve found I don’t want things to go back to that.” It was like the floodgates had opened and now that he had started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “I swear, I will do whatever it takes to give us another child if that is what you really want, but not at the expense of sacrificing all the progress we have made together these last few years.”

Your jaw was practically touching the floor, because that wasn’t at all what you had been expecting him to say, not that you had any idea what you were expecting in the first place, but it certainly wasn’t this level of selflessness. 

Over time, you had come to accept and even appreciate that Kai did truly love you in his own way, and that he felt a great deal of genuine remorse for much of what he had put you through. Not all of it of course, there was only so much a person could do to grow and overcome the faults so deeply ingrained in them, but considering how things had started, this was a massive improvement. The old Kai would have taken full advantage of this situation and forced you to continue to have sex with him regardless of whether or not you only wanted it to go on just long enough for you to get pregnant. For him to turn down the opportunity to sleep with you after five years of celibacy, all because he didn’t want to risk turning back into that monster he had been, the monster you had hated so vehemently,  it somehow made you all the more confident in your decision to end this standoff between the two of you.

Sex with Kai, as well as the prospect of having another child with him had both been subjects that were on your mind for far longer than you cared to admit, and in truth, you had settled on your decision a while ago, you just hadn’t been able to find the right time or way to broach the topic with him before now. But when Eri had so casually asked you her question today as you came into the kitchen to make some tea, you had known right away that now was as good a time as any. And your sweet, perfect daughter, who always knew how to help others, even when she wasn’t aware of it, had given you, not just a reason to bring it up, but the courage to do it as well.

Now you only needed to convince Kai that you wanted this just as badly as he no doubt did.

“And if I told you that I wouldn’t want it to stop even after I got pregnant?”

Kai shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed as he leaned back against the dresser for support. “Please don’t do this, (Y/N).” He quietly begged you, his voice straining as if he were in pain. “Not unless you are absolutely certain that this is what you want.”

You watched him for a long while, taking in the way he held himself back, all because he was scared that he might ruin the progress you and he had made together, and you suddenly knew what you needed to do.

By now, you knew that words alone weren’t going to be enough to convince him that you were confident in your decision on this matter, you were going to need to show him that you wanted him. So you didn’t give yourself the opportunity to second guess your choice in action as you stood up from the loveseat and slowly began stripping away articles of your clothing, piece by piece, never once breaking eye contact with him.

You had long since stopped being nervous or ashamed of your body and the way Kai would ogle it at every opportunity he was given, so even after five years, getting naked for him was an easy task, even if it should have made your skin crawl. You had once been indifferent to it, but not anymore, now you wanted his eyes on you, and wanted his hands and mouth and cock on and inside you even more.

He watched you now, every movement you made, with an all consuming intensity that had never been stronger, not even at the very beginning of all this madness. You once felt like he looked at you as nothing more than an object, like a doll or a piece of art, but not this time, now he looked at you dumbstruck, as if he was seeing you for the very first time. And you found you rather appreciated it now.

Once you were fully naked, it only took a handful of strides to reach him and you had to bite back a small smile at the way he gripped the top of the dresser even harder, like he was needing to fight for control of his own body, or else he’d lunge at you. You really wished he would, because you wanted him just as needy and desperate as you felt. You were so wet at this point, the moisture slicking up your thighs enough that Kai could likely already see the evidence of it himself. He wouldn’t even need to bother with the foreplay, though you wouldn’t object if he ended up needing to have a taste of you beforehand, you certainly wanted to taste him just as badly. You were surprised to realize that he had never insisted on the two of you trying out a sixty-nine position, so perhaps that’s something you could convince him to try with you later, once you’d taken him inside of you a few times.

Standing less than a foot away from him now, you had to tilt your head up to look at him, but not before taking a long and obvious look at the already hard and straining bulge in his pants before dragging your eyes up to meet the molten gold of his own.

“Can you honestly tell me that you don’t believe I know what I’m saying, Kai?” You quietly asked, your voice steady and strong, though breathy and full of want.

He swallowed thickly, the sound so audible that it may as well have been a curse word for all it gave away about what his decision would ultimately be.

“(Y/N)… I-” He dragged his gaze over every bare inch of your exposed body and you felt it like a caress on your skin. “Fuck…”

“I know who it is that I want.” Reaching out, you boldly placed your hand on his chest, just over his heart and rubbed your thumb back and forth against the spot as you took that final step forward and pressed yourself flush against him, your aching breasts and tender nipples pressing into his beautifully chiseled abdomen.

“And who I want, is you, Kai.” 

—————

Kai was going to combust into flames, he was absolutely convinced that this conversation was going to be the final death of him and very soon his soul was going to be thrown down into some burning cell deep in the blackest pits of Hell. 

He had never seen a more beautiful or seductive sight in all his life, and were it not for the way his cock positively throbbed in the confines of his pants, he might very well have thought he was dreaming this up right now. But none of his prior dreams about you, and there had been a lot of them over the years, none of them had ever been quite so vivid and true to life as this moment right here.

He had imagined this so many times before, each fantasy more beautiful and too painful to hope for than the last, and yet none of them could compare to the real thing.

The instant you’d mentioned having another baby, he’d felt his heart soar with unbridled happiness for one blinding moment, and then the fear had taken hold of him. The same fear that had plagued him every night since the first time you had been brave enough let him watch while you pleasured yourself beside him in bed, the fear that he would very soon lose control of himself and once again begin taking what he wanted from you by force. His decision to cut out all forms of intimacy with you for the last five years had been one of the hardest endeavors of his young life, but it had also been the most fulfilling. He’d never realized just how little he knew about you until he no longer had the haze of sex and carnal pleasure clouding his mind, and what he’d learned and witnessed had made him love you all the more. He still viewed you as his, he didn’t think he was capable of not feeling entitled to you, but the overwhelming sense of  territorial possessiveness had lessened considerably over time. 

He so desperately wanted to believe that he was capable of showing you the restraint and patience that you deserved, but he was truly terrified that one taste of you would be all it would take to undo the years of progress he’d made. Because if he took this step with you, and in the morning you said it was a mistake, he didn’t know what he’d do. The last time you willingly sought him out for sex had ended disastrously, not that you had any memory of what truly happened that day, but he did, and the thought that it could potentially happen again was terrifying to him.

However, he also knew you well enough to know just how stubborn you could be, and that you were always the type of person who would never willingly do or say things you didn’t mean. And the way you were looking at him right now, combined with the confidence in your tone and posture, it was cracking his already weak resolve.

So maybe, just maybe, if you, the one most harmed by all of this, were willing to set aside the past and try to move forward, perhaps he finally could as well.

“(Y/N)…” His breath hitched when your smile turned a little devious and you pressed your bare chest more firmly against him.

“Yes, Kai?” You asked sweetly.

Kai didn’t know where this teasing sensuality you were displaying had come from, but it was driving him mad. He wanted to touch you so badly, to drag his lips and hands over every single part of you and listen to you moan for him, to reacquaint himself with the familiarity of your beautiful body, and to see up close all the ways it had changed since you had first given birth. He was especially fascinated by the handful of stretch marks you had gained during and after your pregnancy. He knew you bore them on your breasts and stomach, but the ones he really wanted to see were the ones on your inner thighs. Those ones he had only ever caught brief glimpses of and he always fantasized about tracing them with his lips and tongue while he slowly made his way up to feast on your sweet and needy little cunt.

But, before he could even consider getting to any of that, he needed to make sure that this is what you truly wanted, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

“You’re sure this is what you really want?” He whispered. “I swear to you, sweetheart, I won’t hold it against you if you say ‘no’. We can find another way for you to get pregnant that doesn’t involve crossing this line, but if we do this, you need to know that I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to show this same kind of restraint again if you change your mind in the morning or even later on down the road.” He paused and took a deep steadying breath before continuing. “I don’t want to be that monster you knew me as ever again, (Y/N). So if you have any doubts about this decision, then I beg of you, please, back out now, before this situation has the chance to escalate past the point of no return.”

There, he’d said what he needed to say, and now the ball was in your court, the decision was now yours to make, the way it always should have been, and he quietly waited with baited breath, both eager and hesitant at the same time to learn what your final response was going to be, and thankfully, you weren’t cruel enough to make him wait for too long to hear what that response was.

—————

You slid your hands up his body until one cupped his cheek and the other rested at the back of his neck, then you flashed him another soft smile as your eyes darkened with raw want and desire, desire for him. 

“Kai, my answer is still the same; I want you.” Your thumb traced lazy circles on the back of his neck while you continued to speak, and the way he practically melted into your touch sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “The fact that you are so concerned about potentially hurting me and regressing back into your old habits is enough to give me confidence that you won’t. I trust you to take care of me and to respect my limits in a way you never did before, and if I ever feel like it’s too much or that I can’t take it, I promise I’ll let you know and we’ll figure it out together.”

You watched him close his eyes and slowly exhale a few seconds later, all the tension leaving his body at once as one of his hands reached up to rest over top of your own. He gently squeezed your fingers and turned his face into your still open palm to lay a kiss there, and you could have sworn he was breathing you in while he did it. The you from five years ago would have found the display annoying and disgusting, but the you of the present couldn’t seem to adequately focus on anything past the pounding of your own heartbeat sounding in your ears and the unbearable ache pulsating between your legs as Kai turned his ravenous gaze back to yours.

Once again you were expecting him to leap upon you with five years worth of pent up passion and need, and once again he thoroughly surprised you by finding yet another way to stall what you now knew was an undeniable inevitability as he shifted to pull out his phone and scroll for a number before bring it up to his ear.

The whole while, his eyes never left yours and they all but screamed the one single word that you knew your own were echoing back…

Finally.

—————

Kai’s hyper focused attention never once left your face as he pulled out his phone and selected the first number on his speed-dial list.

It rang three times before the recipient answered, and Kai was far too preoccupied to even care as he watched the tip of your pretty little tongue slip out to wet your lips, lips he soon planned to have his own against, and possibly wrapped around his cock later, if you were willing.

“Hello?” 

Hari’s voice sounded raspy and breathless as he answered and Kai didn’t need more than one guess to know what must be causing it so late into the evening, especially with Rappa out of town at the moment.

Under normal circumstances, he might have been jealous or even envious over such a fact, but considering why he was making this call to his second in the first place, he couldn’t bring himself to give two flying shits this time. As long as his order was fallowed to the letter, Hari could still be sliding his cock between your sisters legs for all the fucks he had to give, all he cared about at the moment was passing along his message and turning his full attention back onto you.

“I need you to personally handle everything we have going on for the next week.” He quietly ordered, smirking down at you when your eyes widened and you mouthed back the words, ‘a week’. “Reschedule, shuffle things around, go to the meetings and distributions in my place; I don’t care what you have to do to make it happen, but I don’t want to hear one word about our business or dealings for the next seven days, not unless the issue is of apocalyptic proportions. Have I made myself clear, Chrono?”

Kai knew that Hari likely wanted to ask a series of questions, and he no doubt would the next time they saw each other, but for now, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and simply do as he was told.

“Yes, I understand.” His second in command responded obediently, but with obvious confusion. “I’ll see to it that you are left completely undisturbed for as long as you wish, and I’ll make sure everyone else is aware of it as well and the consequences that will come if they disregard the order.”

“Good.” Was all Kai said before he ended the call and tossed his phone aside with a careless flick of the wrist, and all the while his attention never strayed away from you. In fact, it only seemed to grow more intense with every passing second as he debated on whether or not he should be the one to make the first move and end this rather enticing stare down the two of you were having.

Thankfully though, and much like all of this evening so far, you took the decision right out of his hands as you smiled up at him and said the words that ripped open the floodgates.

“Well then, Kai, you have an entire week away from work to spend with me.” You said, your voice light and teasing as you pressed ever closer to him, stretching up on the tips of your toes to brush your lips against his own trembling mouth. “Whatever shall we do to pass the time?”

—————

Hari’s confusion was near palpable as he stared down at the dark screen of his phone wondering what in the hell that was all about. It wasn’t like Kai to take that much time away from work and the organization, and if there was some kind of emergency in the compound or with you or the children, his phone would have already been blowing up about it.

So what then could it be?

“Are you so obtuse that you can’t see what this is?”

Hari looked over to the other side of the bed and frowned to see that (Name) was already in the process of getting dressed to leave and the now familiar disappointment that followed that realization was more than enough to make him temporarily forget about Kai’s mysterious order.

“You’re leaving already?” He asked, not caring if he sounded like a petulant child. 

“Yes.” Your sister responded, rolling her eyes as she wiggled herself back into her pants and proceeded to put on her bra. “I’m likely going to be responsible for the kids for the majority of the week, and I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”

Hari cocked his head, still confused. “Why do you think that?”

She raised one eyebrow and gave him an expression that just screamed, ‘Are you fucking serious right now?’. It was a look he’d grown accustomed to receiving from her over the years and somehow, it always sent a spike of pleasure zinging through him. He’d never admit it aloud, but he rather enjoyed letting her dominate him in bed and take the lead on occasion. Unlike Kai, he didn’t always feel an overwhelming urge to be in control of all things at every moment of the day, and he’d never been shy about being upfront with his bedroom partners in that regard. It just so happened that the woman standing before him now was perfectly comfortable with such things. Of course, he wasn’t at all opposed to being the one in charge either, but when he spent everyday ordering others around, it was something of a relief to not have to worry about it once in a while and be the one getting pampered.

“Because him and my sister are, in all likelihood, currently in the process of fucking each other’s brains out as we speak.” She replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on, you must have picked up on the way they’ve been eye-fucking one another at every opportunity they get lately, they haven’t exactly been subtle about it.”

Hari’s facial expression didn’t give it away, but as the words settled over him, he had to admit that he felt rather inept for not having thought of it himself. There were only so many things that could pull Kai away from his duties for such a long period of time, and if all was well with Eri and Kazue, then your sister was right, the only other option was you. 

“What do you think brought this on?” He asked casually, hoping that if he kept her talking long enough, he might just be able to convince her to stay for another round, or even the whole night.

“Hard to say.” She was currently in the process of looking for her socks and shoes as she went on. “But I’m betting it probably has something to do with Eri asking for a little sister and (Y/N) having baby fever.”

At the mention of pregnancy, Hari couldn’t help but imagine what (Name) would look like all round and full with his own child and he silently wondered if she herself ever had thoughts of being a mother. But he shook those thoughts away, there was no point in dwelling on them at the moment, especially since she’d gotten an IUD a few years ago and was still more than regularly sharing herself with Rappa. 

The thought of the lumbering buffoon and the following wave of jealousy was enough to soften his cock when he remembered that she never had any qualms about sharing a bed with Rappa afterwards, but never did so with him.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight instead of going back downstairs?” He quickly suggested it before he could rethink the offer. He could already see that she was opening her mouth to object, but he interjected before she could even get the words out. “Just to sleep.” He clarified, raising his hand in a peaceful gesture. “I know you prefer your room downstairs, but if you have to spend the week up here in the house anyway, why not stay here with me tonight and we can get you a room set up near the children tomorrow .”

(Name) didn’t say a word to him for a few long moments and just as he was about to rescind the offer, she finally spoke.

“I suppose that could work.” She said, eyeing him wearily.

Hari felt his face beginning to light up, only to have that joy dim just the slightest bit when she continued on.

“But I’m sleeping with my shirt and underwear on, and I am sure as fuck not going to cuddle with you. You stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine, got it?” She spat, her tone leaving no room for arguments or anything else as she stiffly began taking her clothes off again.

Despite his disappointment that he wouldn’t get to feel her in his arms tonight, Hari still couldn’t keep the small smile off his face as he watched her strip and stiffly climb back into the bed and wiggle under the covers.

Perhaps there was some hope for him after all, and he’d just need to take some baby steps to get there.

—————

Buttery soft sunshine was what you awoke to, but it was the soft kisses being left all along your shoulders and the back of your neck that kept you from dozing back off into peaceful slumber.

You smiled in contentment and lifted your arm, reaching it behind you to tangle your fingers in the soft chestnut strands of Kai’s hair while you arched your back in a small stretch, making extra certain that your bare ass rubbed against his already straining cock in the process.

“Good morning.” You whispered, your voice still thick with sleep and a tad bit hoarse from all the moaning and screaming you’d done the night before, even as your body fully responded to his gentle ministrations.

You felt him smile in response and his grip on your hip tightened as he groaned, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and grinding his pelvis against the plump cheeks of your ass.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” He moaned, and opened his mouth to suck on the soft skin just below your ear. His hips were already picking up a steady rhythm as he slid his cock up and down between your ass cheeks and you pushed back with equal fervor. “I’ll never be able to get enough of you, my love, never.”

You shifted to roll over onto your back and look up at him, smiling as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. The sunlight streaming in through the windows highlighted him like a halo and made it seem as though his golden eyes were sparkling, although, from the blissfully happy smile on his face, that sparkle may not have been entirely a trick of the light.

The previous night had been wonderful and amazing, it had been everything you wanted and yet nothing like what you had expected. You had anticipated being tossed down on the bed and fucked hard and fast like a bitch in heat for the first few times, because there were definitely multiple rounds, but instead, Kai had been insistent on treating you with such tender love and care. He asked you at every opportunity throughout the night if what he was doing was to your liking, not because he wanted your enthusiasm to help inflate his ego, but because he just genuinely wanted to make sure you were comfortable with everything he did. From the way he kissed you, to every position he put you in, every new-not-new action was followed through only after he had received your verbal consent. It was very much appreciated, but after a while, you had gotten so amusingly annoyed by it that you had at point told him that if he did so one more time, you’d gag him with your underwear.

The look of shock that had overtaken his face had been purely priceless, as had been the uproarious laughter that had erupted from him a few moments afterwards.

“How are you feeling this morning?” He asked cautiously, no doubt worried you might have come to regret your decision while in the cold light of the day.

You grinned up at him fiendishly. “A little sore and stiff, but it’s in all the best ways possible, so I don’t mind.”

Kai frowned a bit, pulling back the blanket to scan your body from head to toe, as if he expected to find your body littered with bruises and other injuries. Then he turned his eyes back towards your own and you could easily see the lingering guilt that shined there. It would be some time yet before he felt relieved enough to let go of it, if ever let go of it at all.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” He repeated. “You can tell me, I promise I won’t be angry.”

“I’m sure.” Then you lifted your arms, opening them up and motioning for him to return to them. “Now would you please come back over here, I was enjoying those cuddles.”

Kai, for his part, was convinced that this all must be a dream, a very wonderful one to be sure, but still a dream. But as he slipped back into the warm cradle of your arms and felt you begin your usual habit of tracing teasing lines and patterns across his back with the tips of your fingers, he knew this was real. Somehow, you had found it in your heart to try and move past the horrible things he’d done in order to have a fresh start with him. He knew you hadn’t necessarily forgiven him, he wasn’t even sure he deserved this second chance, let alone forgiveness, not when he couldn’t entirely forgive himself, but if this is what you wanted, then he would happily accept whatever bits of yourself you wanted to bestow upon him.

The two of you laid there in peaceful silence for quite some time, occasionally running a hand over one another or laying kisses wherever your lips could reach, just to remind one another that this was indeed real and not some fantasy.

“What are you thinking about?” Kai asked softly when you had been silent for longer than usual.

The two of you had switched positions at one point and now you were the one resting your head on Kai’s broad pectoral, still idly tracing patterns on the skin of his stomach and smiling devilishly whenever his hips would jerk and his cock gave a noticeable twitch. It wouldn’t take too much effort to slip a little further down and wrap your lips around him, and had he not just asked you a question, you would have done just that without a moment's hesitation.

“Nothing really, just thinking about how much I lo-”

The words slipped out so naturally that you almost didn’t catch yourself in time.

Both of you stiffened and the room went deathly quiet as the gravity of what you almost finished saying hit you both like a freight train. Your mind was in a tizzy, trying to come up with every line in existence to excuse what it was you almost just said. You don’t even know where the words came from, they just slipped out so smoothly, like saying it was the easiest thing you’d ever done. 

As if they were true!

But they weren’t true, they couldn’t be true…

Could they?

Yes, you had grown to care for and appreciate Kai as the father of your children and even as a companion, enough so that you wanted to have more children with him, but that didn’t mean you… felt that way about him… did it?

“(Y/N)?” Kai called out your name softly, pulling you from your wild and chaotic thoughts.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I couldn’t quite make out what you were saying. Can you repeat that for me?” He asked with forced casualness.

You were so blindsided and confused that it took a moment for you to recognize what was happening, but when you did, the painful tension drained away in an instant as you realized what he was doing.

Kai was offering you an out, to chance to back away from this topic for the time being, until you were ready to face it, IF you were ever ready to face it.

You wished wholeheartedly that you weren’t such a fucking coward, but so much had happened in so short a time between the two of you, and dealing with this, on top of everything else, was just asking for too much.

So you took that out, shelving the topic to be addressed at another time… or possibly never.

You cleared your throat. “I… I was only saying that I love… love what a wonderful father you are.” You said quietly, and patted yourself on the back that at least you were able to admit this truth. “Mistakes of the past or not, you always take such good care of them, of us, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Kai’s arms tightened around you instantly as he laid a gentle kiss to the top of your head, breathing in your delectable scent, now mingled with his own. “I will always take care of you. The three of you, hopefully soon-to-be four, are my whole world. I love you all from the bottom of my heart, and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, even if it kills me in the process. I swear it, my love.”

Your answering nod was all he needed to know you understood and believed him, and soon, the two of you once again lapsed back into that easy and comfortable silence, basking in the morning sun and perfectly content to let the future play out however it saw fit to do so.

And while you might not ever be able to say those three little words back to him, that was fine, because for now, this was all either of you needed.

                                     The End

That is a wrap folks! Purity is officially completed!

3 years, 30 chapters, and nearly 200k words later and I honestly can’t believe I managed to finally finish it! It has been one hell of a ride from start to finish, and I just want to thank all of you for the absolutely amazing support you all have shown throughout the entire process. Whether you’ve been here from the very beginning or if you came in halfway through, or even if you’ve only just now found this, thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

But the one I want to thank the most is one of my best and dearest friends, @talpup​, who has been with me from the very beginning, before I even started posting. Brainstorming ideas with me and allowing me to subject them to my never-ending slew of scene and detail changes, they have been my biggest supporter by far and I can quite honestly say this blog would not be active anymore were it not for them. I probably would have given up on this story and writing post worthy content a long time ago had I not met you my friend, this story is as much yours as it is mine and I hope you know how much I love and appreciate you! ❤️

So, to conclude, if ever there was a time to let me know your thoughts on the story as a whole, now is that time. I know this kinda happy/bittersweet ending might seem very lackluster and an ill-fit for what this fic started out as, but I hope that everyone who reads it can find at least a few satisfying conclusions throughout it. But this is how I always intended for the story to end and I, as the writer, am very pleased with it, and to me, that’s really all that matters. 😊

Thank you all, enjoy!

#18+ONLY #MINORS DNI #Purity #yandere!overhaul #fem!reader #yandere!overhaul x fem!reader #chisaki kai #chisaki kai x reader #eri bnha #hari kurono #reader insert #emotions and feels #ANGST #trigger warnings #lots of them #domestic abuse #implied/referenced non con #referenced kidnapping #referenced child abuse #past abuse #blackmail #violence #manipulative behavior #possessive behavior #threats #toxic relationship #emotional and mental manipulation #gaslighting #bittersweet ending #Stockholm syndrome?

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 16 - Came Back Wrong

Thank you @lethxia for helping inspire this!

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 847

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

The doctors called it a miracle, but after 31 years of performing these so-called miracles , Shouta knew they were no step above fiction. 

And yet, there Oboro was, sitting in a hospital bed. 

If the DNA match hadn’t confirmed it, Shouta would’ve believed it was an entirely different man. 

When they did the Nomu reversal procedure for the first time, on some kid with a wing quirk, the doctors had to remove his entire quirk factor. Oboro’s situation ended up being sort of the opposite. 

Kurogiri had been some mass of black matter, not quite solid or gas, but present enough to be tied down by quirk suppressants. 

Oboro’s hair, now, is that same black misty color where it used to be stark white. His eyes shine yellow in the light and a strange TV static surrounds him at all times, like he could phase out of existence at any moment. 

The rest of him is generally the same, though he’s grown since Shouta had last seen him. No longer the lanky, energetic 15-year-old, now a solemn old man, who had been held prisoner in some hell limbo between life and death by the world’s most powerful supervillain. 

”Oboro?” Mic asks quietly, startling both of the other men. 

Oboro’s hair stiffens, like a cat raising its hackles, before softening when he catches sight of them. 

“Hey fellas, do you have any news?”

But that’s one thing the years of torment hadn’t changed, he was still selflessly devoted to helping others.

Hizashi shoots him a glance, sighing, “Yeah, we found the documents you mentioned.” He pulls said files out of his book bag and places them on the bed at Oboro’s feet. “They’re not-“

“I know what I’m getting into. I spent years looking after him, remember?” Oboro picks up the Manila envelope, the image of one Tenko Shimura stapled to the front. Big red letters marking him as Missing Deceased. 

”You’re sure this is him?” Mic presses, picking at the skin on his thumb. Shouta nudges him, silently telling him to relax. 

Oboro looks up at them, flipping the folder around and pointing at the image of Tenko as he might have looked aged up. The young man in the photo looks much healthier, with fuller cheeks and bright eyes, but he unmistakably resembles one Shigaraki Tomura. 

“I was All For One’s right-hand pet, I saw the kid when he first took him in, and it was Tenko.” He turns the folder back around, looking at the picture with sad eyes, “I wasn’t able to help him when he was young, still impressionable, but he’s only twenty now,” Oboro looks up at Shouta, “I know there’s a chance we can help him. Him and the rest of them.”

Mic huffs, “The bastard almost killed Shouta.”

Oboro’s eyes flit over the rest of the page, scanning details about the investigation and presumed homicide. Testimonies of family and friends claimed Tenko was a shy, kind boy; Nothing like the psychopath he was molded into.

His eyes pause on the line that gave Shouta doubts about this entire thing. 

Tenko had been born quirkless. 

“All For One forced a quirk on him that his body and mind couldn’t control.” Oboro reminds him, “He was picked up off the street after losing his entire family. The first person to show him kindness, a warm bed. Of course he was under his spell from the beginning. He was a child, Hizashi.” Oboro’s gaze is ice cold as he stares the hero down, “Mentally, he’s still a child.”

“I didn’t sleep when I was Kurogiri, and often I would hear him wake up screaming, crying for his mother or sister.” Oboro squeezes his eyes closed, shutting the folder and setting it back down on the shitty hospital blanket, “He was severely traumatized, and groomed to be a weapon, a tool for a supervillain.”

Mic has the sense to look guilty, scuffing his boot on the floor, “You’re right, Oboro. I know. It’s just… hard to forget.”

Oboro’s eyes soften, looking between Shouta and Mic, “I know I missed a lot, but I want you to trust me. I’m on your side against All For One, but Tenko, Dabi, Toga, Jin…” He shakes his head, “They deserve a chance.”

As much as Shouta hates to admit it, he’d had a hunch from the start. The first time he’d seen Toga she’d been so young, learning she was barely older than his own current class was as heartbreaking as it was right. 

And Dabi… Touya Todoroki. The shit he must have gone through as a child if Shouto’s habits are any indication. 

Fuck. 

“I agree with Oboro.” Shouta nods, “It’ll be rough, but they deserve our energy. Jin will be the hardest to make a case for, but I think we can do it. If I’m in, so is Tsukauchi.”

Shouta looks into the eyes of his oldest friend, a man he wished every day for over a decade could’ve had a second chance at life, and he makes a promise. 

”We’re gonna help them.”

#a day late but enjoy! #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #oboro shirakumo #league of villains #referenced child abuse #child abuse #tw grooming #referenced character death #trauma #murder #homicide #unsolved murder #canon typical violence #tenko shimura #shigaraki tomura #dabi #touya todoroki #toga himiko #jin bubaigawara #twice bnha #morgue's febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #llyn writes shit #febuwhumpday16 #came back wrong

[darkmacadamien]

Whumptober 2023, No. 4: "You in there?"

“Bruv, I dare you to drink it,” Isaac says, pointing to the crystal decanter containing a mysterious purple liquid sitting on Coach Beard’s desk.

Jamie scoffs. “Fuck off, man. I ain’t got a clue what’s in there. What if it kills me?”

“Then we will remember you fondly, Jamie Tartt,” Dani proclaims.

Jamie pretends to think about it for a moment, then rolls his eyes. “Uh, nah. Still ain’t doing it.”

“Okay then, boy-o,” Colin interjects, “how about this— I double dare you to drink it.”

“Oooh,” the whole team choruses.

“You cannot turn down a double dare, my friend,” Sam says. Colin and Isaac nod in agreement, the fucking traitors.

“That ain’t fucking fair,” Jamie protests. “Why’re you picking on me, anyway? Richard’s the one with the iron stomach.”

“You were standing closest to me. Sorry, bruv,” Isaac apologizes, though he don’t sound very sorry.

“Philistines,” Jamie grumbles, but he picks up the fancy glass anyway. Unfortunately, Sam is correct: you can’t just not do a double dare. It’s practically one of the Ten Commandments, or something.

Jamie pops the cap on the bottle and gives the contents a cursory sniff. It smells cloyingly sweet, like those shitty perfume samples you get from magazines. “I think this might be alcohol,” Jamie says, running the bottle under his nose again. The scent is so strong it makes saliva well up in his mouth.

“All the more reason for you to drink it,” Jan Maas points out.

“Mate, you know I’m a lightweight. Roy will literally fucking kill me if I show up to training drunk.”

“Sorry,” Colin says, faux sympathetically, “but rules are rules.” He claps Jamie on the shoulder. “Drink up.”

Jamie sighs but concedes the point, and downs the shimmering purple liquid in one quick swallow. It tastes surprisingly light, like green tea, with hints of earthy spices, but it goes down like liquid fucking fire.

It’s worse than the highest-proof alcohol Jamie’s ever had, which had nearly made him vomit from one sip (there’s a reason he drinks vanilla vodka, for fuck’s sake).

Jamie chokes on the aftertaste, coughing and spluttering like he’s drowning. “Water,” he croaks, and a bottle is immediately thrust into his hands. Jamie guzzles it down, but it does nothing to soothe his burning throat.

A strange warmth begins emanating from his stomach where the liquid had settled like a ton of bricks. Jamie clutches at it, suddenly feeling faint.

“Something don’t feel right,” Jamie says.

Then he explodes into a large cloud of purple dust.

“Shit,” Isaac says grimly, when the dust settles. “I think we killed him.”

Where Jamie had once been standing, a figure lies crumpled on the ground.

“Jamie,” Dani cries, diving towards his friend and turning him over. When he catches sight of Jamie’s face, Dani jumps back like he’s been shocked. “Ay, Dios mío,” he shouts, crossing himself.

Colin puts his finger firmly on his nose, and says, “I am not explaining this to Roy,” because there, lying on the ground, is an unconscious child-size version of Jamie Tartt.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Isaac goes to find Ted, because Dani has devolved into hysterics and Ted is the least likely to start shouting and make things worse.

“Watch him,” Isaac orders Colin, pointing at child-Jamie, who’s still (blessedly) unconscious. Then he leaves Sam in charge. “Whatever you do, do not let Roy or Coach Beard into this room. If Roy starts threatening to punch dicks, call Keeley.”

Sam nods grimly. “I understand, Captain.”

“You’re a brave man,” Isaac tells him, and then he’s off.

It doesn’t take long to find Ted; he’s where he usually is at this hour, which means he’s riding around the pitch on the lawnmower.

“Coach! Coach, we have an emergency!” Isaac shouts, waving him down. Ted shifts the lawnmower into gear and rides over at an excruciatingly slow pace. Five minutes later, he’s pulling over in front of Isaac and killing the engine. “What’s up, buttercup?” he chirps.

“It’s Jamie,” Isaac says. “He drank the magic purple stuff on Beard’s desk and now he’s a kid.”

“Well,” Ted says, blinking slowly, “I must admit, I’m a little confused. Do you mean kid, as in…?”

“A child. Like, a youngster, or whatever they say in America. He can’t be any older than thirteen.”

“Oh, wow,” Ted says. “I think this might be a little above my paygrade. You said he drank something off of Coach’s desk, right? Sounds like we need to track him down and see what he has to say about all this.”

“Wait,” Isaac barks. “Won’t he be mad that we messed with his stuff?”

“I’d say it’s probably his fault for not putting a ‘No Touch’ sticker on it, wouldn’t you?”

Isaac shrugs. Fair enough.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“It’ll wear off in about twenty-four hours,” Beard tells the team, standing ominously over Jamie’s unconscious body.

“And there won’t be any weird side effects?” Isaac asks.

“Nope,” Beard says. “Once he switches back, he’ll be exactly the same as before.”

The team lets a collective sigh of relief.

“Why’d you even have something like that laying around, Coach?” Isaac asks.

“I didn’t,” Coach Beard says. “Jane must have snuck in and left it for me.” He sounds properly charmed by it, the bastard.

Out in the hallway, Roy passes by the dressing room and then promptly turns around once he realizes the entire team is gathered inside, still fully kitted out. “Oi, what’s this? Are we having a fucking party or some shit?”

The team moves in unison to hide Jamie’s unconscious body. “Nothing unusual is going on here, Coach,” Sam says, sounding like he’s reading directly from a script.

Roy shifts, widening his stance and squaring his shoulders, looking as if he’s rearing up for a fight. “I didn’t say I thought something unusual was going on,” he says evenly. “Out with it, then. What the fuck is going on here?”

When everyone remains stubbornly silent, Roy sighs, sounding put-upon. “Okay, let’s try this again— either someone speaks up, or I start punching dicks.”

The team parts like the Red Sea. Roy’s eyes immediately snap to Jamie’s unconscious figure. “Is that Tartt?” he asks. He walks over and pokes him with his foot.

Isaac clocks the exact moment Roy realizes that Jamie is about a foot shorter than he’s supposed to be.

“What in the ever-loving FUCK have you muppets—”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Roy reams the entire dressing room out for a good ten minutes. Not even Coach Beard and Lasso are spared, which in other circumstances might’ve been comical, but mostly it was just terrifying.

So terrifying, in fact, that no one notices a tiny Jamie Tartt come to consciousness and sneak out of the changing room.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Thirteen-year-old Jamie Tartt has no idea what to think when he wakes up in a strange dressing room with a much-older-than-he-remembers Roy Kent ripping into a team that he vaguely recognizes as AFC Richmond (although the kits look a little different than he remembers, too).

Jamie spares a thought to wonder why he’s lying on the ground, and then another to wonder how in the fuck he got here, because last time he checked, Richmond was hours away from Manchester.

The last thing Jamie remembers is his dad knocking him around the head, which might explain why he was unconscious, but past that, all semblance of sense goes right out the fucking window.

So, Jamie starts devising a plan to get the fuck out of there, ‘cause even though he was basically Roy Kent’s biggest fan, watching the man have a bitch-fit in person was much scarier than it was on TV.

And also, maybe, he’s just a little afraid that Roy Kent might start yelling at him, too. So, Jamie plays unconscious for a few moments longer, opening his eyes just a tick so it looks like they’re still closed, and scopes the room out, noting the nearest exit. Jamie maps out the quickest route to get the hell out of there, which doesn’t take long ‘cause Jamie happens to have a lot of practice escaping precarious situations.

Roy Kent has the team (and what looks like two coaches, what the fuck is that about?) cowering with their backs turned, so Jamie rolls over, shifts into a crouch, and creeps out of the room, real light on his feet. The moment he hits the hallway, Jamie sprints for the exit.

Well, he tries to, but a wave of dizziness sends him careening into the wall. His vision blacks about for a moment, and when Jamie comes to again, he’s half-sprawled on the floor.

Apparently, he’s in much worse shape than he thought.

Further down the hallway, the doors to the entrance fling open, and a tall blonde woman comes strutting in, heading straight towards Jamie. She hasn’t spotted him yet, but he’ll be impossible to miss once she looks up from her phone, so Jamie makes a dive for the nearest storage closet. There ain’t no way he’s making it past her without getting caught, and for some reason, she scares Jamie more than The Roy Kent, so it really ain’t worth risking it.

He clicks the door quietly behind himself, plunging the tiny room into darkness, and turns the lock. His jumping pulse thrums just below the surface of his skin. It’s much quieter in here; the only things that Jamie can hear are his own labored panting and the muted sound of the scary woman’s heels clicking past the storage closet and down the hallway.

Jamie presses his ear against the door and sighs in relief when the footsteps finally fade into silence. He leans back, slouching against a set of metal shelves.

Now that he has a moment to catch his fucking breath, Jamie does the exact opposite and starts panicking. He has no fucking clue how he’s going to get back to Manchester, but the first, most obvious step is to find a phone and call his mummy, ‘cause she always knows what to do, ‘cept Jamie doesn’t have a fucking phone on him, and after a cursory check of his pockets, he finds he don’t have any change on him, either, so a payphone is out, too.

The only person he knows in this entire building is Roy fucking Kent, but the thought of getting yelled at by him makes Jamie literally want to throw up, like. And Roy Kent had seemed pretty angry, and Roy Kent is the type of guy to yell at the sun if it shines too bright, so. Roy Kent is probably out, too, unless Jamie wants to send himself into early cardiac arrest, or whatever.

Jamie seems to be doing a pretty good job of inducing a heart attack all by himself, though, if the pain in his chest is anything to go by. It’s just— he can’t fucking breathe, and his head is on fucking fire, so Jamie reaches back to touch the crown of his head, where the pain is emanating, and his fingers come back wet. He can’t fucking see anything ‘cause the room is pitch black, so he sticks a finger in his mouth, and yeah. That’s the taste of iron, which means the sticky viscous liquid coating his fingers is blood. Jamie is bleeding.

Fuck.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It takes approximately five minutes after Roy stops yelling for everyone to realize that Jamie had somehow disappeared, and then another five minutes after that to organize a cohesive search party (mainly because Roy had started yelling again and it had taken Isaac, Colin, and Jan Mass to calm him down). They trample out of the room like a herd of elephants, each player heading to a different part of the complex to search. Ted hangs back for a second, long enough to catch his breath. Thinking about a tiny version of Jamie Tartt (hardly older than his own son) wandering around alone and confused makes his chest feel tight.

Hell, even thinking about adult-Jamie getting upset is enough to raise Ted’s pulse or make his breathing go all staccato-like.

Down the hallway, Ted can hear Roy and the rest of the team shouting for Jamie at the top of their lungs. Ted forces himself to relax; Jamie can’t have gotten far, and with twenty-some people looking for him, it’s unlikely that he’ll stay lost for long.

Then Ted notices that there’s blood on the floor, and his heart drops into his stomach.

It might not be Jamie’s blood, Ted rationalizes. They’d just wrapped up practice, after all, and scraped elbows and knees practically come with the territory. It could just as easily be Zoreaux’s, who had taken a nasty dive in the goal today. Or Sam’s, who could’ve re-opened the wound on his hand from when he’d helped out at his restaurant the other day. What Ted’s trying to say is: the blood could be literally anyone’s.

But somehow, Ted knows it Jamie’s. It sticks in his mind like caramel in your teeth when you eat a Snickers bar.

It’s not even that much, either. But Ted worries.

So, he follows the trail of blood out into the hallway, stepping around it carefully so it doesn’t get on his shoes, until it leaves him standing in front of a supply closet just a skip away from the locker room.

Not far, indeed.

Ted gently knocks on the door. “Jamie, kiddo? You in there?”

It’s silent for a long moment; long enough that Ted considers trying the handle, but then, he hears rustling behind the door.

“How th’fuck d’you know my name?” Jamie spits.

Ted sighs silently in relief. Target acquired. Now, for some damage control.

“Ouch,” Ted jokes. “You sound about as angry as a trampled-on copperhead, which I would know, because I’ve stepped on one before. Luckily for the both of us, I know a thing or two about venomous snakes. Now, I bet you’re real confused right now, but that question is going to need a lot of explaining and it might be easier if we have this little chat face-to-face, if you get my meaning.”

There’s the telltale snick of the lock disengaging, and then the door swings open, revealing Jamie, brandishing a broom like a weapon. A thin line of blood is trickling down the side of his neck, saturating the collar of his shirt.

God, but he looks so young, with lanky arms and legs that he hasn’t quite grown into. His face is still soft with baby fat, and his hair is longer than Ted’s ever seen it, falling over his forehead in dark waves.

“I only opened the door ‘cause I can’t understand you with that stupid American accent,” Jamie says. “Try anything funny and you’ll regret it, swear down.”

“Whoa there, buddy, I ain’t gonna hurt you. Why don’t we set that broom down, huh?” Ted suggests, holding his hands out placatingly.

Jamie doesn’t move— in fact, he tights his grip on the handle, staring at Ted distrustfully.

“Or not— hey, I can work with that. You ever see that movie Alice in Wonderland?”

Jamie’s face twists up in confusion. “Mate, what the fuck are you on about?”

“Nevermind,” Ted says, waving dismissively. “I don’t know why I started with that. Bad metaphor. Anyway, long story short, you used to be an adult, but then adult-you drank a magic potion that turned you back into a kid.”

“Oi,” Jamie barks. “M’not a fucking kid.”

“My mistake,” Ted concedes. “A distinguished young gentleman.”

Jamie looks at him with thinly veiled disgust, but at least he sets the broom down. “Are all Americans this fucking weird?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Ted says. “Anyway, older-Jamie currently plays in the Premier League for AFC Richmond, and so that’s how I know your name.”

“AFC Richmond?” Jamie asks, miming a gagging noise. “Jesus, why? Did they get rid of Man City, or something?”

“Oh, no, Manchester City is still a thing,” Ted assures him. “You had your reasons for coming here instead, though. We can get into that later, but first I think we ought to get that bump on the back of your head looked at.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Jamie says. “Hey, uh, was that really Roy Kent in the changing room?”

There’s a curious inflection in Jamie’s voice when he says Roy’s name— like he normally adds the in front of it, like The Roy Kent. “Uh oh,” Ted says. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a fanboy.”

“No,” Jamie bluffs, in the way that all teenage boys do when you accuse them of having a special interest. His cheeks flush immediately, though, giving him away. “Well, I mean, I’ll watch his matches if they come on the TV, but like. It’s football, you know? Of course, I’m gonna fucking watch it.”

When Ted fails to say anything, Jamie coughs awkwardly. “I mean, like, he’s a pretty good player. Objectively, or whatever. Like, that’s what I’ve heard other people say.”

“Mhmm,” Ted agrees, struggling to hide his grin.

Jamie sighs, giving up the façade altogether. “Actually— yeah, I’m kind of his biggest fan. I have a poster of ‘im and everything. Do you think he’d sign something for me?”

“Buddy,” Ted says, “if you come and see the doctor with me, I’ll get him to sign whatever you want.”

“You can do that?” Jamie asks. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Who, little old me? I’m the coach around these parts, but you—” Ted points to Jamie, “—can call me Ted.”

“Holy shit, you’re the gaffer?” Jamie says, disbelieving. “Man, football has changed.”

“Hm, yeah. So, what do you say? We got a deal?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jamie says, still looking a little shell-shocked.

“Awesome!” Ted shouts, pumping his fist. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Patching Jamie up doesn’t take long; he sits on the treatment table and follows the doctor’s instructions obediently. The cut doesn’t need stitches, luckily, but it still needs to be cleaned and bandaged. In the meantime, Ted unlocks his phone and shoots Roy a text:

Found Jamie. He’s fine, send everyone home

And then, remembering his deal with Jamie:

You mind stopping by the treatment room on your way out?

Roy likes the message but otherwise doesn’t respond.

He arrives a couple of minutes later, just as the doctor is putting the final touches on the bandages wrapped around Jamie’s head. “It’s a little bruised, so I’d recommend icing it when you get home,” the doctor tells Ted. “He’s also got a concussion, but you don’t need me to explain how that works, so I’m heading out. Have a good day, everyone. And for the record, this is so weird.” Then she packs up her supplies and leaves.

“What the fuck am I doing here?” Roy asks.

“Jamie wanted to ask you something,” Ted tells him, looking at Jamie entreatingly.

“Traitor,” Jamie hisses. “You said you’d ask him.”

“Don’t twist my words, young man,” Ted says firmly. “I said I’d make him do it if he told you no.”

“Oi, nobody is making me do anything,” Roy interrupts. “Hypothetically, though, what am I supposed to be doing?”

Ted continues to look at Jamie pointedly, who averts his gaze and scuffs the toe of his shoe on the floor. He mumbles something, low and quiet.

“Fucking what?” Roy barks.

Jamie snaps his head up, glaring at Roy furiously. “I said, can I please have your autograph?”

“Well, fuck, why didn’t you just say so,” Roy says, whipping a pen out of his pocket. “What am I signing?”

Jamie’s face shifts from anger to surprise, like he didn’t think he’d get this far. “Uh, I don’t know. I ain’t go anything on me,” he says sheepishly.

“How about this?” Ted suggests, holding up an old receipt he’d dug out from one of his pockets. Roy shrugs and gestures for it, and then spreads it flat on his thigh so he can sign it. “How’d you hit your head, anyway? Run into a fucking wall or something?” Roy asks casually, uncapping the pen.

“Roughing about with me mates,” Jamie replies instantly, and Roy’s hand freezes. It’s eerie, Ted thinks, how practiced that response sounds. The worst part is, it’s actually a pretty decent excuse, and it probably would’ve worked on anyone else, but after two years with Jamie, Ted is pretty familiar with his nervous tics, and one of them is the way he runs a thumb along his eyebrow when he’s lying. Which he is currently doing, the offending appendage still picking absentmindedly at the thin hair along his brow.

And if Ted picked up on it, then Roy, who spends practically every hour of the day with Jamie, absolutely noticed it.

“Wanna try that again?” Roy asks evenly, finishing his signature.

“Eh?” Jamie asks.

“You fuck with your eyebrows when you’re lying,” Roy says. “You’re doing it right now, which means you just lied straight to my fucking face.”

Jamie snatches his hand away from his forehead like he’s been burned. “How the fuck do you know that?” he asks.

“I’m your best fucking friend, you muppet,” Roy bites back. “I know lots of things about you. For example, I know that your dad’s a fucking deadbeat, who doesn’t deserve you, and I also know he likes to knock you about, so I’m willing to bet everything that I own that he’s the reason you’re bleeding out the back of your head right now. Am I wrong?”

“You don’t know shit about me,” Jamie hisses. “I don’t know what adult-me told you, but he’s fucking lying. About all of it!”

“He didn’t have to tell me shit, because I saw it with my own two eyes,” Roy roars back. “That’s how I know it was your fucking dad, because you only fucking lie for him!”

“So what if it was? It doesn’t fucking matter, man! Why are you making such a big deal about it?” Jamie shouts back, and then immediately bursts into tears.

Roy sighs, like the sight of tears is enough to immediately drain the fight out of him. Ted finds it amazing, how quickly these two can wind each other up and then let it all go. “It does matter, Jamie, because you don’t deserve to be treated like that,” Roy says quietly, and then wraps Jamie up in a hug.

“This is fucking humiliating,” Jamie sobs into Roy’s shoulder. “You’re like, my hero. I’m not supposed to be crying, I had so many questions I wanted to ask, and—”

“Stop,” Roy commands. “Look, we’ll go get ice cream or something, and then you can ask all the stupid fucking questions you want.”

Jamie leans back, still sniffling. “Really?”

“Yes, you little prick,” Roy says fondly. If Ted were a romantic, he might call his tone fond. “Come on then, up you get,” he says and helps Jamie off the table.

“Lasso, you’re with us,” he barks when Ted fails to follow them down the hallway. Ted scurries to catch up.

“Ope, my bad. Looks like I misread the situation there, fellows. I thought this was just gonna be a Roy-and-Jamie event—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yup.”

(And if the next day, after Jamie turns back, he hangs the signed receipt up in his locker, nobody says a word.)

(Also, nobody touches anything on Beard’s desk, magic potion or otherwise, ever again.)

#whumptober 2023 #no. 4 #“you in there?” #ted lasso #fic #referenced child abuse #jamie tartt #roy kent #afc richmond #sad jamie tartt #hurt jamie tartt #age regression #de aging #hurt/comfort #angst #happy ending #Jamie Tartt is literally Roy Kent's biggest fan

[metalheadcowboy]

"Stupid piece of shit, son of a bitch!" Billy cursed, kicking the underside of the front bumper of Neil's old beat up Ford F-350, "Fuckin' thing cain't a lasted a few more miles?"

Steve swung the passengers side door shut, boots clicking as he walked around to see the damage, "Ya act like the thing's brand new, Bill, hell, pretty sure it ain't even run right when it was." His hands hung low on his hips, as he examined under the hood. Didn't take an expert to see the problem given the short plumes of smoke and the strong smell of oil. If Steve were thinking about it any harder he would have had half a mind to back away, but he never was much of a thinker.

Billy wiped the sweat off of his brow, wishing now more than ever that he had worn his hat, "Well, it made it this long, didn't it?" he snapped, throwing his hands dramatically up in the air before shaking his head matter-a-factly. Steve just sighed, looking down the road both way, nothing in sight but asphalt, mountains, and dead Timothy grass. He did have a point, but the truck was bound to give out any day now. Of course it had to choose this day at this time.

"What'm I 'sposed to tell 'm, Steve?" the blonde boy questioned, still faced the other way. Steve could sense a certain vulnerability in the younger teens voice, something raw, something scared that pained him to the core.

Steve licked his lips, taking a short step forwards, "The truth," he spoke softly, letting his hand escape the sharp jut of his own hip to the sweaty expanse of the back of Billy's neck, thumbing at fresh cut curls. And for the first time that day he seemed to actually relax, tense muscles going lax at the tender contact.

Gently, Steve massaged, calloused fingers digging into soft flesh. Billy let out a soft grunt, "Ain't gonna believe me no way, Rodeo," he all but whispered, letting his head lull forwards, small smile cracking the brunettes hard expression.

"He'll have to," Steve rebutted, hand trailing up to brush through Billy's matted caramel curls, "Can't deny the fried engine 'r the smell'a gas can 'e?" He did have a point there, but the shorter teen was smarter than that, and knew his dad a hell of a lot better.

Billy only let his head hang for another minute before bringing it back to its original upright position, "Can 'f he pleases," he mumbled solemnly. Steve knew he was right, if there was one trait that topped bastard when it came to that Neil it was stubbornness. He let his hand fall back to his side with another defeated huff. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was somehow his fault, part of the punishment from God his parents went on about when they first found out he was queer. Maybe he should be on his hands and knees thanking the man upstairs that he wasn't burst into smithereens instead.

Steve gave Billy a hearty smack in the center of his back, "Buck up, cowboy, least we ain't gotta worry 'bout him for a few hours," he encouraged, looking on the bright side.

" 'N what're we supposed to do in the meantime, sit here 'n look pretty?" Billy retorted, sensing the amusement in Steve's sparkling brown eyes.

A sly smirk spread across Steve's face, "Think you had that down a while ago, fella," he remarked with a proud grin, one that billy couldn't help but give a half a smile to himself.

"You're so full a it, Harrington," Billy rolled his eyes, "Ain't better 'n no school girl."

Steve chuckled lightly, "Maybe not," he gave in, not having the will in him right now to fight against Billy comparing him to a girl. After a few seconds he sauntered to the tail end of the Ford in defeat, letting down the tailgate before giving himself a less than graceful hop up to sit on the bed.

"You really just gon' sit there?" Billy asked in surprise.

Steve turned his torso to look back at him, "I mean, what else 's there ta do, Billy? Not like we c'n call somebody to come 'n get us. So, we'll just hav'ta wait for the next car 'a pass." Billy didn't seem too fond of this idea, scowling at the brunette from his spot near the front of the truck.

"That could be hours, we don't got that kinda time, 'sposed ta be pickin' up the feed at two," he complained, scratching at the side of his jaw.

Steve shrugged, "They'll just hav'ta hold it, then. Ain't no fault'a ours." He was surprised when his counterpart had no further arguments, but was even more surprised when Billy walked around the side of the truck to join him. Steve made sure to keep his distance, already daring to touch once, not feeling like testing the waters twice.

But he could see the wheels turning in Billy's head, the gears shifting as he surely thought about what was waiting for him when he got home with no feed and not truck. Steve knew he'd get it too, but not as bad, never as bad. If history repeated itself he'd just get a stern talking to, the sloppy seconds of Billy's shiner and split lip.

Steve had gotten so lost in thought that when he felt a pinky nudging at his own it made him nearly jump out of his skin. He looked over at Billy, but didn't spare more than a glance before turning back, not wanting to fuck it up. Gently he lifted his pinky, half shaking, and wrapped it over the younger teens own with care.

There it was again, the contempt sigh and shrinking shoulders of shed tension from Billy that made the knot in Steve's stomach feel a little looser. In one swift motion Steve took the dark brown hat off of his head and placed it on Billy's, giving it a good push down before letting go again, all without looking over. In his peripheral he swore he could see a smile, the quick flash fo pearly white teeth that shone like sunshine between delicate pink lips.

And for a second, even if just for one second, he felt like everything might work out alright.

#not the fic but a side thought I had while writing #as you can tall I'm very easily distracted #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Harringrove #Stranger Things #Western AU #🐎💔 #referenced child abuse

[atomic-sludge]

Uh I forgot to draw anything worth posting today so here are some belos doodles I did way back when I was figuring out that noodly style.

#i want to. put him in a can and shake him #i want to grinkle him i want to put him in a lab and do fucked up experiments on him #art #digital art #sketch #the owl house #the owl house belos #emporer belos #philip wittebane #hunter the owl house #luz noceda #referenced child abuse #hate him hate him hate him #hes fun to draw an write tho

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 27:

"You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleeding."

Matches | scars | "Let me see."

Fandom: Young Justice

Prompts used: all

Just a short little piece. I read up on Speedsters 'Kryptonite' and found 2 things (minus inhibitor collars obv.) And one took way too much knowledge and like, outside forces, while the other was so ordinary I can't believe I forgot about it. Anyway, I had to remind myself several times that I was writing Wally and not Denki.

TW Depressive thoughts, near death experiences, referenced child abuse, and Blood.

…

Wally and Dick had been friends for years.

Wally knew Dicks mothers favorite color and his fathers best joke- though it didn't translate as well to English, so Wally knew Romani enough to make Dick feel at home. Wally knew how they died, and how Dick became Robin and why, andandand-

Dick knew Wally had hated superheroes growing up. That it wasn't until the Flash, and discovering it was his Uncle, that Wally even thought about it, that he'd be a hero who saved EVERYONE. Not just the public, but the ones who need it but can't ask. Dick knew Wally didn't like going home, that everyday a number would plague him, that his speed hid his flinches and allowed him a quick escape and time to calm enough to laugh when someone snuck up on him.

He knew that SOMETHING happened to him. When they were younger and just starting out, Wally knew Dick liked doing something with his hands, so he'd let Dick draw along his arms and Dick would let Wally tap his foot as fast as he wanted and glare at anyone who pointed it out.

Wally thinks about his life before the experiment, when he was just a little boy born into a world that didn't think he was enough. He thinks about the sports he was forced into so he could explain away his injuries and to be a man. He thinks he's glad Dick didnt know him then, that he didn't see the weak little worthless boy he'd been.

But he supposes, even superpowers can't change who you are at your core. They can cover it up, hide things away, but who you are rarely changes. Wally knew that now, no matter how many successful missions, or people saved, or good deeds done-

If even his own parents can't stand him, HATE him, if he can't even save himself, how can he think himself worthy enough to be a hero?

"Wally?"

Wally had forgotten what moving through molasses felt like. His speed had saved him so many times and yet now… now it was failing him. He feels it burning within him, matches too close to the fingers holding them, ready to go out at any second, with the flick of a wrist. But Wally has been burned so often… he'll burn with it before he throws it away.

"Wally, look at me, what are- you're bleeding! Let me see, Wally let me see!"

"You drew stars around my scars, made me feel like I had a place, like I was loved and worthy-" he coughs, something warm splatters down his chin, he looks into worried baby blue, "I'm so stupid, I thought I could be a hero, but now I'm bleeding, and I failed. I'm worthless."

"Stop that!" Tears spill over, as his eyes squeeze shut at the shout, "You are not any of those things!!" A sob tears from the bird's chest, and Wally feels the physical stab of it.

He reaches a trembling arm out-T-shirt doing nothing to hide the bruises and scars of years of pain- his fingertips brush Dicks face, catching a tear as it falls.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want you to see me like this. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I'll yell at you later, when you're not bleeding over everything. Let me see what's wrong." Wally is sure one of the Bat family's powers is being able to pull themselves together in a stressful situation.

Before his eyes, Dick composes himself and focuses solely on what he can do. With tear stains on his face, he steady's his hands as he gets to work on what ails his friend's body.

"What the- Wally what the heck happened??" Dick gives his gushing wound an incredulous stare, having hit his panic button several moments prior he wonders if he should hit it again, because his speedster's not healing, at least not that Dick can see.

Wally gives a humorless laugh, a pitiful look in his eyes,

"Would you believe a pot of coffee did this?" The spiteful tone is directed only to the redhead's self, self hate at large as he thinks of the event again. "Dad was mad. I think he had planned to just like… throw it on me ya know? But I flinched and mom yelled and I don't know… next thing I know there's glass everywhere and blood and I ran but I couldn't run and-" His own sob is choked as he tries to reign it in, his gut protesting the jerk anyway.

Dick stares with wide eyes as a million pieces fall into place, and the dawning of his worst realization in the years they'd known each other hits him hard. For all he knew about Wally, he'd missed the biggest piece of the puzzle.

The Dark Knight lands behind him, a gust of wind announcing the Flash's arrival a second after. Dick is moved, eyes never straying from his friend as his brain processes every sign he wrote off. His hands- covered in his friends blood, there's so much- rise, panic creeping in, he's ready to curl up and never rise-

A hand slides into his, just as slick and tacky as his own and yet so familiar. Blue meets Green- lidded and weak but alive- the hand freckled in sun spots and scars and blood, squeezes his own, a million things but alive enough that Dick is sure he'll be able to get to every single one.

"You are loved, Wally. You are worthy. I'll prove it to you."

#whumptober 2023 #no.27 #“You drew stars around my scars but now im bleeding.” #lyric #matches #scars #“let me see.” #young justice #fic #depressive thoughts #near death experiences #referenced child abuse #blood #wally whump #wally angst #dick grayson angst #wally west #dick grayson #angst #injuries

[ashintheairlikesnow]

His Word Goes Forth

CW: Referenced past child abuse, some emeto references (brief, vague), some dissoci@tion towards the end, alcohol references, prostitution references. Just a whole load of references. But I am so excited to finally be able to write this chapter and introduce... Gilly's children.

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

The Hotel Import, Grand Island, the Colonies

Guilford Wentworth the Fifth - who went by Ford and told everyone who didn’t already know his parentage that his name was Wilford Prose, simply a cousin to the illustrious Wentworth name - woke up to sunlight streaming in through the gauzy curtains, bright like daggers against his closed eyes.

He’d been meant to go to the symphony last night and make some sort of connection with a man whose properties his father admired, a man named Hogarth or something who owned too much land and not enough good common sense to know to avoid anything to do with the Wentworth businesses. Ford had been told to convince him a visit to the Continent would do him good, to stop by the Wentworth estate and meet the elder Guilford.

He’d been told to make many such meetings before, and usually he did as he was told. Ford had ceased to be treated as a child and had become just another tool in his father’s toolbox since his mother died and could no longer shield her children. He’d been good at it at first. 

But now… He was only eighteen and already he was tired of this.

And last night, he’d decided to let tired win the day.

Instead of making contact at the symphony, he’d instead allowed himself to be distracted by the promise of further liquor in a dark men’s club down the street, and spent his night in pursuit of new ways to forget his hated name.

He had succeeded, however briefly.

Unfortunately, the end result was that Ford woke up knowing his own name very well still, but with a headache that threatened to split him in two from temple to chin, a tongue that felt like cotton stuffed into his mouth, and a stomach that was either threatening to empty itself or ravenous for food and it couldn’t seem to decide which.

“Damn the sun,” He groaned, still feeling the ebb and swell of the liquor from the night before within him, stretching against the sheets. There was an ache in his hips that he enjoyed more than he disliked it, and when he tried to open one eye to look down at himself, there were marks of red from someone’s rouge, he thought, along the insides of his thighs. “... huh.”

Rubbing his face, he slowly sat up, squinting against the pain. There was a bottle with at least two good drinks left in it on the table next to the bed, and he drank it all, feeling it burn all the way down.It would help hold off the worst of the ache, though, at least until he could find somewhere darker to hide away from the daylight and a draught of laudanum to send him back to sleep.

Then, when he woke up once more, he’d need to come up with an excuse for why Hogarth Whoever wasn’t already boarding a ship for the Continent, to be swayed by his father’s monster like everyone else was.

That could wait, though. At least for however long it took to sleep off last night, both the alcohol and the pleasures that came with the darker bars and the seedier places in the city. Ocean air and warm nights made pleasures easy to find, and there were plenty of people who wanted money to eat more than they wanted their own virtue intact.

Ford had plenty of money.

Although even the money wasn’t really his.

He sighed, dropping back into the bed. There wasn’t anyone in the bed, although there had been when he went to sleep. Or passed out. Whichever it was that he’d done.

There’d been a young man, his own age - what was his name? It didn’t matter. None of their names mattered. Once they had coins in hand he could call them anything he wanted and they’d do anything they were told. Nothing there beside him now but empty space.

 When he laid his hand there, it was still warm.

“Damn,” He whispered, then checked the other side, where there had been a lovely woman. Had the two known each other? He couldn’t remember. Well, in any case, that space was equally emptied, and it wasn’t warm at all. 

She’d left long before the man had. 

“Well… double damn,” Ford said, voice a little rasping. One of his last clear memories had been shout-singing along with the sea shanties sung by the sailors come on shore to drink and whore with the rest. Had the young man been a sailor on leave? Might have been... “If he told me his name, I forgot it. I rather liked them.”

His eyes drifted closed again.

“Of course you did,” His sister’s voice came, warm as the ocean nearest the shore, dry as the desert wind, breaking through his thoughts. “You like them all, because you are an idiot with money and that makes them like you.”

Ford gasped, his heart half-stopped before his mind caught up and he realized she wasn’t actually in the bedroom, but out in the sitting area where he couldn’t see her - and more importantly, she couldn’t see him. Even so, he felt himself flush and yanked the blankets up to cover himself, sitting upright all at once.

“Nathalie! What in the gods’ names-”

He heard the rustle of the morning paper. “Good morning,” Nathalie said, without even the slightest change in tone. “How are you, dear beloved sister? Oh, I’m fine, Ford, thank you for asking. Did you just arrive, Natty? Why yes, Ford, I did, it is so lovely of you to ask after my health-”

“Fine, fine, Nathalie, I get it. Just-... hold on, let me dress and I’ll join you.” Ford snorted, reaching blindly towards the floor and grabbing at the first pieces of clothing he found there. The suit he’d been meant to wear to the symphony, now a wrinkled mess - but it wasn’t like his sister would care, or even as if it were the first time she’d seen him in disarray after a night wasted. He had to fight a swell of dizzy nausea as soon as he was on his feet, leaning against the wall and letting his fingers scrape the textured wallpaper there, a series of flowers in dim pastels against cream. “How did you get in here, anyway?”

“I asked at the desk if my brother was here carousing with whores,” Nathalie said. The paper rustled again as she turned the page, as if punctuating her sentence. “And the sweet young man at the desk informed me that you were, indeed, carousing with whores. I paid him to let me in and threw out the whore.”

Ford swallowed thickly, walking with slow, careful steps along the cool wooden floor to the doorway, his shirt half-buttoned and the linen a mess of wrinkles. “There were two.”

“Of course there were.” Nathalie set the paper down and turned to look at him. She looked like their mother - both Ford and Nathalie looked like her, thank any god who might have been responsible. They had her delicacy, her bright wide eyes. Nathalie looked the most like her, though. And now she turned their mother’s look of solemn, disappointed judgment on him just like she had. “There was only one when I arrived. I sent him away.”

“Hmph. I thought he was quite nice, I was hoping to seek him out again. I can’t recall if he told me his name, though.” He dropped into a chair at the little breakfast table she’d set herself up at, slumping against the hard wooden back and tipping his head back. The world swayed dangerously around him when he did.

“His name was Darren,” Nathalie said, and when he opened his eyes to look at her, he found that the disappointment had become the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. “Darren Meander.”

“That… He cannot have been speaking true to you.”

“I don’t care if he was or wasn’t, it’s what he told me. There, now you have a name if you want to find him again.”

“Thank you. Why did you bother?”

“You get on better with the whores than you do with your own class,” Nathalie said, as if the answer were obvious. “And you’re going to seek them out anyway. Besides, I use you as proof positive to myself of something I have always known.”

“What…?” 

“That I, Lady Nathalie Wentworth, shall never marry, since any man of means or with a good family name may be as dissolute and pointless as you are.” She winked at him, and he might even have found it in himself to laugh if his stomach hadn’t twisted angrily at the thought. “I do enough picking up after you, I don’t think I am in need of any other man to deal with.”

“I’m sure you can find a pious man and get to him before he joins the priesthood,” Ford muttered, his face hot with guilt. She really did so often have to handle things for him, things he should have handled himself as the eldest.

Nathalie was younger than him, only just now sixteen, but she’d always seemed older, more second mother than sister some days. Maybe because, since their mother had died - when he was eleven and she was only nine - she’d done all the mothering of the twins, all the hiding them from the attention of their father, holding them in the night after nightmares or when the coastal storms raged. 

Ford’s job, back then, had been to take the brunt of his father’s anger, keep Guilford’s eyes - and his fists - on him, and only him. It had kept Nathalie and the twins safe, for years… until their lordly father had split them all apart and declared the twins were old enough for finishing school, Ford was ready to take over the business interests in the Colonies, and Nathalie was old enough to run her own household and prepare for marriage.

Still.

They were all still far, far away from their father, and therefore safe from his direct influence, his attention, and his damnable monster.

Still.

Ford sighed, watching a shivery little rainbow from the sun shining through a window just right bounce off the ceiling. “In any case, I’ve hardly caused enough trouble to cross the channel and find you. What are you doing here, anyway?”

Nathalie didn’t look up from the paper she was scanning, but she gestured at a carafe before her. It had freshly-brewed coffee that steamed as he poured it into a teacup, and he sighed happily at the first sip. She hummed. “I came to see you.”

“You’re meant to be up at Howe House.”

“I was up at Howe House. I’ve been supervising it for months. It’s nearly habitable, which is lovely, considering I’ve been habiting there amongst the dust and the mouse droppings all this time.” Nathalie finally set the paper down, crossing her arms on the table and looking Ford over. She was pristine, in a light-blue linen dress made for the hot island days, her hair pulled back in a chignon to keep it from suffocating the back of her neck. “Oh, Ford. You look awful.”

“I feel awful, thank you ever so much for noticing.” He drained the first cup of coffee and poured a second, his tongue flat and numb from the too-hot liquid. He didn’t care. “So if you were at Howe House, why aren’t you there now? It’s a four-day sail to get here from there, and you sent no warning-”

“I absolutely did send you a notice, you shattered teapot of a man. You just haven’t been home in a week, I checked when I arrived. Your servants haven’t seen you since last Wednesday and not a single one had a clue where to find you except your butler.”

“Yes, well, he’s the only one I told when I left that I was going to stay here.” Ford exhaled. His sister’s constant piercing stare wasn’t helping his headache even a little bit. His stomach turned over itself and he fought back the urge to simply be sick all over this lovely table and Nathalie’s lovely dress. “... I hate the house. I avoid it whenever I can.”

“Clearly.” Something in his sister’s bristling manner softened, a little. She reached out to lay a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Ford. I know this… wasn’t how we hoped it would be, when we were young.”

Ford laid a hand over hers. His fingers felt chilled and numb - hers, by contrast, felt bright and warm and full of life. “We thought we could go farther from him, that he wouldn’t follow us. But…”

That had been when their mother was alive, and they had thought they could bring her with. Neither of them said it. Both of them heard it, anyway, even unsaid.

Ford cleared his throat. “... but if this is what our father wants, we must help to build and maintain the Wentworth name and fortune.”

“I know.” She squeezed his arm, brief but firm, and then let go of him, glancing back down at the paper. “I know. And we are, however we hate our parts, we play them. For the twins, at least.”

“For the twins. They’ll… be out of school in a few years, and by then, maybe-”

“Maybe.” She cut him off. She poured herself a coffee, then, holding it in both hands. Her nails were bitten nearly to the quick, the one bad habit that had never been broken in her no matter their father’s rages. “I should tell you, Ford, this is not a social visit. I was… sent here to pick you up.”

“You were?” Ford sat up straighter, and felt a frisson of dread like an electric eel moving inside of him. “By-... Nathalie, not by-”

“Yes. By… our father.”

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “... why?”

She took in a breath, wincing and pressing one hand to her side as the mere expansion of her ribs pushed against the tightly-fitted bodice. The style of the times, for wealthy young women, and Ford had spent more than a few nights undoing laces of young ladies wondering if ‘style’ was just a pretty way to avoid saying suffocation. At least the lower class women he spent most of his time with were allowed to breathe. 

Nathalie’s voice was so soft it was nearly a whisper. “You were supposed to be packed and ready to go when I arrived, Ford. I was supposed to explain it to you on the ship.”

“... what?” He blinked.

"Father's letter to me made it clear I wasn't to tell you until we were underway, but-... but I meant to regardless, just-... I expected you to have seen my letter."

"... Ah." The mere mention of his father had made his stomach try to rise up in his throat again, and the idea of going back on a ship - the weeks of seasickness and then the week of land sickness afterward when he had to get used to being solid and still once again - made it much much worse. He had to swallow hard as bile rose and lean over, resting his forehead on the cool surface of the table and pressing one hand over his belly to try and calm it with the pressure. 

The morning breeze blew in through the windows, bringing the salt-scent of ocean air with it. There came with the welcome salt the faint hint of dead fish, a simple fact of life everyone tried to ignore. You got used to it. Ford had gotten used to it, in the end. But it didn’t help his stomach feel any better now, or stop his heart from racing. “Father sent you... to pick me up? I am to live at Howe House with you now?” He groaned against the tabletop without looking up. “That house is full of ghosts!”

“It is not.” Nathalie rolled her eyes. He could hear her shoe tapping impatiently under the table and her cup clatter against the saucer as she put it back down. “That’s an old wives’ tale, I’ve never met a single one and I’ve been living there for more than a year.”

“Yeah, because you aren’t the heir, they don’t loathe you like they do me.”

“There are no spirits haunting Howe House,” Nathalie said firmly. “And if there were, why would they hate you?”

“The same reason I have such hatred for myself, due to the blood in my veins! His blood!"

Oh, he’d spoken too loud. The pain in his head spiked with his voice's volume, and he had to close his eyes tightly and breathe in quick, shallow pants until it ebbed again. 

Nathalie was silent, but her hand laid on his back, then, rubbing gently up and down. Just like their mother had, when they were young and came to her with sickness. She gave him a moment or two of quiet, which... it helped, honestly. “You cannot help the circumstances of your birth,” She murmured. “And remember what Mother said."

"It is only blood," Ford muttered, mouth barely moving. "She had no idea how deep the ties of blood run."

"Yes she did. And... I understand, Ford, I wish as much as you that we could change our names and be gone, but you know we can’t."

"The twins need us."

"Yes. Besides, Father-”

“Why, why would Father even think of me? I’ve done everything I can to get him to forget me entirely, Nathalie!”

“Oh, is that what the drinking and whoring were about? Being easily forgotten?” Nathalie’s humor was sharp, but it never quite cut deep. He knew her too well for that, and she was still gentling herself for his sake. He made himself sit up and look over at her. There was something in the set of her face that had his nerves singing in worry. “Listen to me, Ford. You aren’t coming to stay at Howe House.”

“Well, he can’t have sent you to scold me about… this.” He gestured at the wreckage of the hotel suite around him, bottles emptied or half-emptied. It looked as though at least one of his guests the night before had left their shirt behind. Or maybe that was one of his, and it had been unpacked… He’d never seen it before, but that didn’t mean much. Ford’s clothing was bought according to his father’s specifications, he never knew of it until he was sent for tailoring. “He doesn’t even know about it.”

“You cannot be sure, but… no, no, it’s not about this.” She licked at her lips, looking uneasily over to the window. Outside, the sun shone in a perfect, cloudless blue sky. The sound of people going about their lives down there filtered up to them. “... Ford. He calls us. We have been summoned... home.”

His heart chilled at the word. "No."

"Yes." Nathalie exhaled, folding her hands in front of her. She looked everywhere but him, and he tried without success to follow her gaze. “He’s… sent for us, Ford. You know why. You know what that means.”

“Either of us, really.” His voice was a whisper, airless. The hotel suite around him seemed suddenly transparent, as if he weren’t even seated here within it. As if it were all a pretty fiction, a daydream he had at night with Wentworth Manor crowding ever closer, his father’s eyes everywhere searching for faults, always finding them. His father’s monster with teeth bared and loathing in its dreadful eyes. “It could be for either of us. You’re sixteen, I’m eighteen, it could-... it could be for you, or for me, it could be-”

“... I think it’s for you.” She took his hand in both of hers again, and this time she held on tight. They looked at each other, with their mother’s eyes, and Ford felt the wave of fear he had spent his time here on the islands trying to escape breaking over his head, to drag him under again. “I think Father has found you a wife.”

The sun shone. Birds sang. The ocean was a constant dull, reassuring roar just outside the window. Despite the heat, Ford shivered with a depthless chill and felt water closing over his head, drowning him in the dark with all his fears coming suddenly to life.

“How-” His voice broke.

He had to swallow down terror, just like he had done since he was a child, and straighten his shoulders. He had to tell himself the world was only a play, and he was only a part his father had imperfectly cast. He had to keep his own life at a distance, and not feel it, or he would feel too much. The world had too many sharp edges, and he must stand apart from them or be slashed to ribbons. “Nathalie-”

“Please,” Nathalie whispered. “Please don’t ask, Ford. Don't, I won't know the answer, none of us know."

“How long?”

She didn’t answer, only looked away. He could see the glimmer in her eyes, knew it for what it was. It made the world feel even more distance, as if he were adrift in a lifeboat, the tide carrying him away from his own body. The escape was a gift or a curse, and he didn't know which.

His mouth still moved, without his consent. Without his decree. It asked the question neither of them knew the answer to, the question that haunted every Guilford Wentworth but the first.

“After I’m married, Nathalie... after he has given me to his bride, and the monster has taken my mind and will from me... after he has me shut up in his house again..."

His voice felt like someone else's. His body was only a creation that carried blood to a new generation, to give his father more power. He was far, far away from it.

"Nathalie-"

"Please, Ford-"

"How long will he... let me live?”

-

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee

#bones in the ocean #child of whumper #worldbuilding stuff #fantasy whump #fantasy writing #original fantasy writing #original fantasy #writers on tumblr #writblr #original fiction #referenced captivity #dissoci@tion tw #referenced child abuse #whumpers who are also whumpees

[faofinn]

22 & 23. Common Cold/Flu & Tepid Bath

These two fit so well together we couldn't help but do a combined little ficlet

@sicktember

Hars hadn't been feeling well for a while. After adding in a few too many late nights and even more bad decisions, it well and truly reared its head.

 He'd been unable to settle overnight, tossing and turning, somehow both too hot and too cold. 

Steve was worried about Harrison too. He could see him getting more and more run down, late nights and too much alcohol. He’d not long been part of the family, the adoption papers having only come through a couple of months ago. 

When Monday rolled around, he got dressed as usual, intending to go to college. He struggled to actually dress, ending up with his shirt on backwards and two socks on the same foot. He didn't seem to notice, and headed downstairs for breakfast, apparently missing the fact it was almost lunchtime. 

From his position on the sofa, Steve looked up from his laptop. Harrison looked a state, hair a mess, clothes all over the place, bags under his eyes. 

“Where are you off to?” He asked, trying not to grin. 

"College." He said simply, attempting to pack a lunch. 

“What time is your first lesson?”

"Same as always." He grumbled. "You know that."

“Have you checked the time?”

"My alarm went off."

“And you’re wearing that?”

"It's clean."

“It’s inside out. And it’s nearly 1pm.”

"Is not." He wasn't entirely paying attention to Steve's conversation, and headed to the front door, still determined he was leaving. 

“Go back to bed, Harrison.”

"I've got college." He said firmly, struggling with the door. 

“You’ve already missed the entire morning. I called you in sick at 8.”

"Because I can't get out of the house!" He argued, frustrated. "What have you done to the door?"

“It’s locked, because you’re sick and you need to go back to bed.”

"I'm not sick! It's just a cold or something. I just need to go to college."

“Do you remember what happened last time you got sick and it was ignored?”

"Wasn't even sick then." He grumbled, though gave up with the door. 

“Go back to bed, Harrison. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

"Just half an hour, that's all."

“Sure, if that’s what you want.”

"Yeah." He sniffed, his determination and energy gone.

“Go on, to bed with you. I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”

"Thank you." He gave a weak smile. Steve always knew how to make it better. Bed sounded great, and he dropped his backpack on the floor, slowly padding upstairs. 

Steve shook his head fondly, going to the kitchen to make Harrison’s hot chocolate. He’d want it, and hopefully it would make him feel better. The last thing Steve wanted was him getting any worse - the admission the last time he’d been sick had been absolutely terrifying.

Harrison didn't bother changing out of his clothes, though shuffled out of his jeans. He wrapped himself up in his duvet and blankets, his little excursion downstairs having tired him out and made him cold to the bone. 

Steve came up after a few minutes, knocking on the door before he pushed it open and headed inside. “Hot chocolate. Have you had any meds?”

Harrison was barely visible through his cocoon, but he shook his head. He’d had none in his room, and hadn't wanted to go downstairs or disturb Steve. 

Steve tutted. “I’ll go and get some.”

"Do you have to?"

“It’ll make you feel better.”

"Okay." He said quietly, taking Steve's bribe of hot chocolate. 

"I'll be right back." Steve promised, grabbing some paracetamol and a thermometer while he was there. A bottle of water wouldn't harm either, so he brought one up with him, knocking again before entering. 

"Hars? Got you some meds and some water to take them with."

Harrison jumped slightly, having drifted with the silence. He reached for his chocolate again, swallowing the meds with a grimace. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Can I take your temperature? You look really flushed."

"Do you have to?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so." Steve said gently, sitting on the side of the bed. 

Harrison sighed heavily. "Okay."

Steve patted Harrison's leg, shooting him an encouraging smile. He was quick to check his temperature, frowning at the numbers. 

"Let me check the other ear." He'd hoped it was a mistake, but he knew it wouldn't be much different. 

Unfortunately, it was even higher than the first, and he sighed heavily. They really didn't need him being this sick again. 

"That bad?" There was a flash of panic across Harrison's face. 

"You've just got a fever, kid. Just means your body is fighting off what it needs to do. But, it does mean you can't be swamped by your duvets. I can get you a sheet instead?" He offered. 

Fear settled in his features. "No. I need the duvet. I need my blankets."

"Hey, it's okay. It's just to keep your temperature down. Just like taking a cool shower or bath, it just makes sure you're not going to overheat." Steve kept it simple, aware Harrison wasn't entirely firing on all cylinders. "Tell you what, eh? You can keep your duvet but you need to keep it at your feet or by your side. You're not allowed to wrap yourself up in it, okay?"

Harrison hesitated. Steve had just told him he wasn't allowed it, he hadn't dragged it from his grip, hurt him to try and get them away. He took a deep breath, and slowly pushed it to his feet. 

"There you go. Thank you, Harrison. I know it's not nice to take it off when you feel rubbish. I'll let you get some more sleep, okay?"

"'kay." Harrison nodded, snuggling under the blanket he'd been allowed. "Thank you."

Steve left Harrison to sleep, hoping that just being under the thin blanket would be enough to stop him getting hotter. He really was worried about the kid, all too aware how it had ended before. His chest seemed okay, at least, just the fever that was concerning. Surely the sleep would help, as would the meds and the water. It was just a waiting game, hoping his body would fight off whatever he’d picked up. Didn’t help that he’d been so run down, the alcohol certainly not helping him. 

A few hours later, Steve returned. Harrison had been quiet, hopefully sleeping, and he knocked on the door again before he stepped inside. 

“Harrison?” He asked gently. 

He stirred slightly, squinting at Steve. He didn’t quite understand why he was so insistent on pestering him. 

“Can I check your temp again?”

"No."

“Please?”

"No." He whined. "I wanna sleep."

“It’ll take two seconds, and then you can sleep again.”

He groaned, pulling the sheet over his head. "No."

“Come on, Harrison.”

"Steve, please."

“I just want to check it’s come down.”

"It has."

“I don’t know unless I check.”

"Fine." Harrison was always more agreeable when Steve was around, and he couldn’t help but try and do what he wanted.

“Thank you.” Steve said gently, pulling the blanket back. 

The lack of blanket made it so much colder, the small pocket of warmth quickly dissipated. He whined despite himself, burying his face in his pillow as he curled up tighter.

“I know.” Steve soothed. “Just check your temp, won’t take long.” He said as he did it. 

"It's better?"

“Afraid not.” Steve said. It was worse, but he wasn’t about to tell Harrison that, he didn’t want to panic the poor kid. 

"Oh. Okay. More sleep, then."

“How are you feeling?” 

"Cold."

He hummed. “Your temperature is pretty high.”

"That's okay."

“No, it’s not.”

"I'll fix it."

“Oh?”

"Yeah." He settled back down. "It's all fixed now."

“Not sure I share your confidence.”

"That's a shame."

“Here, let me check again.”

"You just checked."

“I need to double check.”

"No you don't."

“I do.”

"I'm asleep."

“Funny, talking whilst you’re asleep.”

"You can check it later."

“If you’re asleep I could just do it now.”

"No."

Steve huffed. “You’re not well.”

He couldn't help the tears that started falling. "I'm sorry."

“Hey, don’t cry.”

"'m cold and you won't let me sleep an' you keep taking my blankets."

“Alright, I know. But you’re far too warm.”

"I'm not."

“You really are.”

Harrison shivered as if to prove his point, managing to push himself up and into Steve's side. 

Steve wrapped his arm around him. “I know you feel miserable.”

"A lot."

“Yeah. You’ve got a bad temp.”

"I'm cold." He murmured, snuggling in properly.

Steve sighed, patting him on the shoulder. “Alright. Get some sleep. I’ll pop back later.”

"No." He said quickly. "Don't go."

Steve softened. “Oh. I’ll stay.”

Harrison gave a quiet, happy noise. "Thank you."

Steve settled down to sit with him, still worried but glad Harrison wanted his comfort. 

Harrison slept for a while, only growing increasingly warm by Steve's side. At first, it was quiet, but soon enough the nightmares leached into his dreams. He struggled against the sheets, whimpering and crying quietly. Nothing changed, and his nightmares only grew worse, the fever only adding more power to them. He woke with a shout, trying to make himself smaller, to keep himself safe.

Steve hated Harrison’s nightmares. He felt so powerless to do anything about them, unable to wake him and worried as he got hotter and hotter. He managed to get the blanket off of him, hoping that would at least help, but he doubted it would make much of a difference. 

“Harrison?” He said gently, once he’d shouted himself awake. “It’s alright, you’re okay.”

He fought against Steve, torn between trying to get away and trying to disappear into the bed. His cries and pleads didn't make sense, talking to people that weren't there.

He was much, much worse than before. Steve’s stomach twisted with nerves and he sighed. “Alright. We really ought to get you cooled down.”

Harrison pushed at Steve's hands, uncoordinated and weak. He was already cold, and couldn't understand how Steve didn't get it. He was supposed to be smart.

Harrison’s skin was so hot it almost burned. Steve didn’t have much of a choice, he needed to cool him down, else he was going to end up in hospital again. Harrison was too agitated for him to bother with trying to take another temperature, and instead he just scooped him up in his arms and carried him to the bathroom. 

His heart almost stopped as Steve carried him onto the bathroom, suddenly gaining strength. He writhed and fought against Steve's arms, begging him to stop. After everything, Steve was going to kill him. 

Luckily Steve was stronger than Harrison, still skinny and weak. He kept him close to his chest, his heart breaking as the teenager fought him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m gonna help, I swear.”

Harrison gripped tightly onto Steve's shirt, tears streaming down his face. He'd turned to begging, trying anything to stop it.

Steve hated it, apologising constantly as he turned the tap on and waited for it to warm up a little before he set Harrison in the tub.  Clearly he was upset, and ordinarily he’d never push him this hard to do something that was this upsetting, but it needed doing. He let the water run over his legs, cupping his hands to trail it over his back. “It’s okay, I promise you’re going to be okay.”

Harrison screamed as the water touched him, trying his best to arch away from it, his hands clawing at Steve's chest. He couldn’t breathe, and each drop of water burned his skin. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please." He begged, his words split by sobs. "Dad, please, I'm sorry. I'll be good. Please."

Steve’s throat tightened, and he tried his best to keep Harrison’s face from getting wet. He knew he’d fucked up, he’d hit a trigger or something, clearly that he knew nothing about. It must have been his old family, his biological family, and Steve hadn’t had any information. But Harrison needed this, else he was going to get much, much sicker. After a while he stopped the running water, just leaving the teenager sat in the tub. He did his best to keep the water moving over him, where he could avoid clawed hands and kicking legs. Steve himself was soaked, his T-shirt clinging to him, but he pushed on. He needed to get Harrison’s temperature down. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re okay, you’ve not done anything wrong. Cooling you down, kid. Cooling you down.”

His words didn't register with Harrison, still fueled by adrenaline and terror. He continued to try his best to scramble out, grabbing at Steve where he could. Steve kept putting water on him, kept him trapped in the bath. He was obviously just dragging it out, making sure Harrison knew how much trouble he'd caused, how much he deserved the punishment. 

Steve hated it, the way Harrison grabbed a t him and tried to free himself. It seemed to be working, though, the boy’s skin wasn’t so warm to touch, he seemed slightly more with it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you. I just want to help you. I promise I’m helping you.”

Eventually, his strength died down. He didn't have the energy to fight any more, and slowly resigned himself to whatever was coming. 

When he stopped, he expected punishment, to be pushed under and held there, but it didn't come. 

The hands on him no longer burned, and he slowly realised they weren't pushing him down but keeping him up, out of the water. They were slow and gentle, each move careful and considered. Gradually, his sobbing stopped, though his breath continued to catch in his throat. He couldn't help himself as he collapsed into Steve, unable to hold himself up any longer. 

“Well done, that’s it. You’re alright, I’m not trying to hurt you. Just helping you cool down, yeah?” He said gently, stroking through his hair. “I’m sorry. You’re going to be okay, Harrison I’ve got you. Just breathe. It’s okay.”

#sicktember 2022 #sicktember day 22 #sicktember day 23 #common cold/flu #tepid bath #harrison is very very triggered by baths #whump prompt #whump writing #whump #harrison #steve cunningham #dad!steve #steve doesn't know harrison's triggers #which is unfortunate really #hars never does anything by halves #if he's sick he gotta be *sick* #triggered hars #ptsd #past child abuse tw #referenced child abuse #triggered #nightmares #poor hars im sorry bby #steve feels really bad

[inorganicone2230]

Purity (Finale Part 1 of 2) Yandere!Overhaul x Fem!Reader

Part 28 & Finale Part 2 of 2

Summary: Overhaul meets a quirkless foreigner who holds some very interesting views on his way of thinking. The more time he spends with her, the more he wants to keep her and her purity for himself. And he has no problem with falling to the depths of obsession if it means getting what he wants.

Other Warnings: Trigger warnings, mentions of past domestic and physical abuse, blackmail, referenced kidnapping, referenced rape, referenced physical abuse/torture, emotional and mental manipulation, toxic relationship, gaslighting, forced pregnancy, VERY YANDERE!!! See tags for more…

Side Note: I do NOT and never will condone the actions committed in this and future chapters, please be mindful and respectful of the fact that all of this is purely fiction.

5 Years Later

Looking down at his phone to check the time, Kai nearly groaned when he saw that it was already well past 6pm and they were still nowhere near ready to see this latest deal closed.

They had been debating these negotiations with this new group for the last three hours and despite Kai and the Hassaikai’s incredibly generous offer, they still hadn’t found a mutually agreeable price or terms to settle on.

“Look,” The head of the group said, clearly annoyed that they weren’t giving into their, quite frankly, ridiculous demands. “I just don’t see what the big deal is; all we’re asking is for an undiluted sample of the product to see how it will respond to someone under the effects of a stronger form of trigger.”

“The problem is that it’s a risk and a liability that we’re not willing to take.” Hari said for the umpteenth time through gritted teeth. “It’s been nearly five years since we completed our finished product, and in that time, we haven’t seen a single successful copycat drug hit the streets, so as I’m sure you can imagine, it’s a record we’d like to see keep going for as long as possible.”

One of the men across the table, an enforcer with a temper worse than Mimic’s, slammed his fist on the table in outrage.

“Are you uptight assholes trying to accuse us of wanting to double-cross you?!”

Kai rolled his eyes at the pathetic display before speaking up himself.

“I believe what my second in command is trying to say is that it’s a risk we’re just not willing to take for anyone.” He tapped a gloved hand on the paperwork in front of him. “You’re not the first buyers to ask us for such concessions, and we’ve turned them all down, even groups that we’ve had good standing with for generations, so no, we’re not about to break that stance for a gang that’s only just barely made a mediocre name for themselves.” His golden eyes flashed bright, promising pain and torment for anyone who thought it a smart idea to question him and the man who opened his mouth to respond to the insult, wisely shut it. “So, you can either take what we have so kindly offered you, with a small discount as a show of our immense generosity, or you can leave this room and consider yourselves permanently blacklisted from our dealings and future negotiations.”

The men across from him all sneered with outright contempt.

“And here I thought the infamous Overhaul was supposed to be a tyrant without mercy, a monster disguised as a man.” The leader said, giving him a once-over that clearly said he wasn’t all that impressed. “Seems to me that all those stories are nothing but baseless rumors.”

“Is that so?” Kai asked, rather absentmindedly, and as if in answer, his glove, along with the stack of papers underneath his hand quickly became particles floating through the air. “Should you continue with this disrespectful posturing, I can just as easily do the same to your bodies and you can leave this room, and the world of the living, through the drains in the floor.”

The men opposite him and Hari suddenly looked far less confident and Kai’s blood thrummed with the promise of potential violence. He didn’t relish the mess that would inevitably follow, but after last night, he needed something to take the fucking edge off, and wiping these vermin permanently out of existence seemed a good enough choice.

In the five years since the birth of his and your son, Kazue, there had been a great deal of changes brought about by the boundaries he’d set for you and himself to follow. Most of the changes were in regards to his relationship with you and the children, and it most definitely took some getting used to it all in the beginning, especially during that first year.

Touching you had been like second nature to him by that point and there were so many times where he had caught himself reaching for you and had to physically leave the room for fear of breaking his promise to you. He was a man of conviction after all, and he prided himself on his sense of self control, but not being able to hold you in his arms or feel your lips and body against his own was pure torture for him. He’d gone so long despising even the thought of physical contact with others, but once he got a taste of it with you, he became addicted.

That’s why he tried so hard to stay as far away from you as possible in those early days, spending as much time around you as he used to proved to be too much of a temptation for him and he was determined to prove to you that he could be a man of his word.

One of the first changes he had tried to make in the beginning had been in offering to find another place for himself to sleep, especially once he moved you all up into the house above the tunnels, a suggestion you had, very surprisingly, turned down. Sadly though, he didn’t need to be informed that it wasn’t because you would have missed his presence beside you at night, but because you didn’t want to worry Eri by letting her believe there was animosity between the two of you. You would continue to share his bed in a strictly platonic manner and keep up the guise of being cordial with him, if only for the sake of the children and their stability. But beyond that, and raising the children together, you did much of everything without him back then.

Along with the loss of his intimacy with you, he ceased doing quite a lot with you during that time period; picking out your clothes for the day, bathing with you, making idle conversation with you, even just spending quality time with you in the same room, all of it came to a sudden halt. None of it was out of maliciousness on his part of course, it was just easier to stay away until he could get a grasp on his self control. A task that proved itself to be one of the most difficult of his young life.

And that’s roughly how the first two years had progressed.

You spent time with him, usually only when the children were involved, and life dragged on accordingly. And over time, he ever so slowly began to lose hope that anything would change the horrible circumstances of his own careless actions.

Until one event that set in motion a ripple effect, one that went on to ever so slowly alter the last three years, enough to restore that small ember of hope he’d been holding onto.

—————

It was late, nearly three in the morning, by the time he slowly and quietly made his way through the halls of the ‘family residence’ and into the bedroom, silently praying that you and the children were already asleep and that he wouldn’t accidentally wake any of you up and have to explain his haggard appearance. Getting to spend time with you and his babies was usually the best part of his day, but not tonight. It had already been such an agonizingly long and hard day, one of the most difficult of his life, and he just didn’t have the drive or the energy to deal with anything else.

Unfortunately though, those prayers went unanswered as he quietly opened the door to find you still awake and sitting up in bed with a book in hand.

You looked up, your beautiful face as impassive as ever, and if you were at all surprised or concerned by his less than normal countenance, then you certainly didn’t show it, and he was far too tired and drained by that point to feel hurt by the minor snub.

“What are you still doing up?” He asked quietly, more out of habit than actual interest, as he trudged over to his dresser to pull out a clean pair of boxers and sleeping pants.

Since anything and everything sexual was now off the table for the two of you, he had conceded and begrudgingly, but understandably, started wearing some kind of sleepwear to bed. He found it uncomfortable most nights, as he was so accustomed to sleeping in the nude, but he found that as long as he was wearing something that at least left his lower body covered, like a simple pair of boxers, you didn’t feel the need to voice any complaints about it. Although, when this arrangement had first started, he was smugly pleased to see that you were just as uncomfortable as he was when it came to wearing clothing to bed. In the beginning you tried to wear the most unflattering pajama sets to bed in an effort to hide your body from him, but those attempts had lasted all of three months before you broke down and just started wearing the least revealing nightgowns and other sleepwear he’d previously purchased for you to bed at night. It certainly wasn’t something he was ever going to mention for fear of losing the stunning visuals they provided him with, and definitely not now that he was forced to take his pleasure into own hands… quite literally these days.

Under normal circumstances, he would have spent a few minutes talking to you and greedily drinking in the sight of you in a silky midnight blue night shirt and shorts, especially when he could clearly see the outline of your nipples straining against the delicate material, but the entrancing sight held nearly no sway over him this night.

He saw you shrug out of the corner of his eye and turn the page of your book, just as uninterested in him as you always were. “Kazue got a tummy ache after dinner tonight, so I sat up with him until it passed and he was able to fall asleep. I’m starting to think he might be a bit lactose intolerant, and it was the cream based sauce that did it.”

“I see…” Was his only response as he made his way into the bathroom to take a scalding hot shower, completely missing your wide eyed stare following him all the way to the bathroom and lingering long after the door had shut behind him.

—————

And perhaps it was his complete and utter disinterest in the well-being of his son that tipped the scales in his favor that night and made you act so out of character, Kai thought to himself, because any other time you said such a thing, he would have been asking a whole host of increasingly concerned questions and rushing into the child’s room to see for himself that he was safe a well.

—————

By the time Kai emerged from the bathroom over an hour later, his skin having turned a pinkish red and scrubbed so raw in places that he’d likely taken away a layer or two, the bedside lamp was shut off and you were nestled comfortably under the covers, though he could tell you were still wide awake. But still, he said nothing as he pulled back the covers and finally laid down. He was exhausted, both mentally and emotionally, and he felt it deep down in his bones, but he just couldn’t seem to get his mind to settle.

It also didn’t help that he could feel your gaze drilling holes into his back and adding to his already mounting tension.

You hadn’t said anything, but he could feel your questions hanging in the air all around him and the pressure of it made his already sensitive and scalded skin itch. He’d never had this kind of adverse reaction to you before and it terrified him to no small degree. He knew it was just the lingering effects from what had occurred today, but still, it wasn’t a feeling he’d ever wanted to experience where you were concerned.

So he answered your unspoken question, if only to try and make the itching go away.

“He’s dead…”

The two softly spoken words rang hollow in the quiet of the bedroom and while Kai knew he didn’t need to elaborate further on who he was referring to, you would already know, the floodgates were now open and he couldn’t stop himself from speaking further, even if there was no prompting for it from you.

“The underling assigned to care for him said that the readings on all his monitors were fine this morning, but when he came back to check on him during lunch…” He trailed off, his throat constricting around the words as he fought to keep some semblance of his composure intact, but against all his best efforts, a pathetic and broken sound, somewhere between a sob and whine, slipped out of him instead. He hated how weak he felt in this moment; he’d seen his own fair share of death and horrible things over the years, Hell!, he’d performed human medical experiments that could easily be qualified as torture, and on his own daughter of all people! And yet he’d never felt as grief stricken and misguided after coming to terms with those instances, not the way he did right now with this.

He knew it was bound to happen someday, Pops dying… but he never thought it would be so soon, and certainly not before he was able to wake him up and show the man everything he had achieved, not just for the Shie Hassaikai and the yakuza, but for himself.

And now he would never get that chance.

He would never get to tell him how much he honored and respected him, or how grateful he was to have been saved and raised by him, how he thought of him as a father, even if he’d never had the courage to call him by such a title in all the years he’d been under his roof. He’d never get to introduce you to him and hear him laugh when you inevitably called him out on his bullshit and sometimes poor behavior, or see him hold Kazue in his arms and try Eri’s spectacular cooking for the first time. He’d never again feel that strong hand on his shoulder, or hear his voice telling him how proud he was of him despite all his faults and mistakes.

But worst of all, is knowing how he’d never get the chance to beg for his forgiveness, and tell him just how sorry he was for what he’d done that last day they’d spoken, when he laid out the original details of his plan, before everything changed… before you had come into his life and changed everything.

When you failed to respond after a few moments, Kai began wondering if he had imagined you still being awake. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking on his part and his tired mind had simply wanted to believe that you were just the slightest bit worried for him. 

He was just about to roll over to try and sleep, and hopefully forget all about this for a little while in dreamless oblivion, when he felt a light pressure on his bicep, so light and tentative that, were his skin not so sensitive from the shower, he might not have noticed it right away.

The contact of your hand made him immediately go rigid, completely terrified that one wrong move would send you reeling back to the other side of the bed. He’d been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed you inching closer to his side of the bed until now, and he didn’t even know what to do with himself. Sure, there had been brief and accidental exchanges of touch since Kazue had been born, usually when passing the children to one another or when you got in close quarters with each other, but in all actuality, you hadn’t gone out of your way to touch him in years, and now, he didn’t have a single clue as to what to make of this. It wasn’t as if he was complaining about it, far from it, but he just didn’t know what to take it as.

He told you before that every future touch would be on your terms, and he wanted to keep his word on that front, and he truly didn’t know if this moment was meant to go beyond what was already happening. He didn’t want to misinterpret you touching him like this as more than what you were intending it to be, because for all he knew, you only meant for this to be a consoling touch to try and give him some small form of comfort during this difficult situation he was facing. So he would take what he could get and he would commit this feeling to memory and use it on days when the strain of not being able to touch you was at its strongest, he would use it as a reminder of what he was working so hard to prove to you.

…

…

…

Minutes passed, and after some time, he received yet another shock when he felt the slightest pull on his arm.

He barely noticed it at first, and when he did, he just assumed you were getting ready to take your hand back, but when your touch lingered, the pull becoming more insistent, he finally gave in and turned to face you.

You were laying on your side, a look of conflicted contemplation settled over your face and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the way you were biting your bottom lip, a clear sign you were deep in thought on a subject you likely considered very worrisome. Even with the tragedy of Pops’ death hanging like a morbid sheet over his head, Kai couldn’t keep his mind away from thoughts of how those perfect lips of yours used to feel wrapped around his cock, or even how they simply felt against his own. If things weren’t so strained and different between the two of you these days, he likely would have been inside you already, using pleasure and ecstasy to temporarily push aside the unusual feelings of sorrow and grief that were currently plaguing his mind.

As it stood though, that wasn’t even an option right now and he needed to get a hold of himself and gain back some semblance of self control.

“Was…” His voice sounded strained and thick, even to his ears, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “Was there something you needed, my love?” He asked cautiously, not wanting to make a big deal about this odd touch of yours and risk spooking you.

You didn’t respond though, in fact, you couldn’t even bring yourself to keep eye contact with him for longer than a few seconds. There was just enough light in the room for him to see that your gaze kept shifting around, and he wondered what was going on inside your head for you to be feeling so nervous and fidgety. It wasn’t a trait you often showed around him, not anymore at least.

Eventually, after a few more quiet moments of thought, you finally got your bearings back and decided to show him what you wanted, rather than expressing it through words, as you rolled over onto your back and opened your arms to him…

Kai was so shocked and stunned by this unexpected turn of events, that he didn’t know what to do with himself and he just continued to stare at you with wide eyes and an open mouthed expression adorning his usually carefully controlled features.

“Well…” You finally snapped at him quietly, although the words carried zero bite to them. “Are you going to come over here or not?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, as if you were afraid of being too loud for some reason.

But at your insistence, Kai moved without another thought.

—————

Even three years later, Kai could still remember that night with perfect clarity.

He could still recall the warmth and softness of your skin, the feel of your arms wrapping around his back in an awkward, but still comforting embrace, he could even remember the way you’d smelled of lilies and eucalyptus as he’d buried his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder. But what he recalled the most vividly, was how he hadn’t felt the least bit judged for the tears that eventually started to fall, or for the quiet sobs that had shaken his body. And all the while, you had simply and silently held him through all of it, you had even stroked your hands up and down the length of his back once in a while.

You hadn’t offered him your condolences or any words of comfort, but what you did give him was so much more profound. The fact that you had chosen to set aside your own negative opinions and personal feelings for him and allowed him to have that moment of silence to grieve and let it all out, that mattered more to him than mere words could ever hope to convey. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d cried over anything, he’d come very close to it a few times during the days surrounding Kazue’s horrifically premature birth, but the ability to shed true tears was something he thought he’d long since purged from himself.

And afterwards, during the following morning, when he’d slowly and silently pulled himself from your arms, savoring every last second he could soaking up your warmth and scent, before he allowed himself to give your cheek the lightest of kisses, he thought that would be the first and last time something like that would occur, that it was a one and done moment. He assumed you wouldn’t even want to talk about it, so he hadn’t brought it up at all and chose instead to keep it tucked away in his heart as a sort of keepsake memory.

But, to his still shocked and bewildered delight, you had offered him the same thing again that night… and the next night, and the night after that, until it became commonplace and a habit neither of you seemed willing to break.

And slowly, little by little, you started opening up to him more after that and Kai relished every moment of it.

He wasn’t delusional enough to think you had entirely accepted your life here with him, he knew that acceptance and complacency were two vastly different concepts, and you were still far from happy. But every time you let your guard down and touched him, or gave him a smile that wasn’t forced and strained for the children’s sake was still a win for him. It felt so much more rewarding and genuine, in a way forcing you never had. He still couldn’t bring himself to fully regret the actions he’d taken that had led him to this point, but now he could see the benefits that could be obtained through time and patience. It wasn’t easy by any means, there were still days where he found himself feeling resentful and bitter that he was having to work so hard for something that, in his mind, he still viewed as rightfully his, but a quick flashback to the awful day of Kazue’s birth was usually enough to snap him out of it.

Sometimes, the memories of that day were so terribly vivid that it felt like he was reliving it all over again and he could still hear the sound the back of his fist had made as it cracked against your face, or the sound of your heavily pregnant body hitting the floor. Those were the mild ones though, the worst came when he could see your blood on his hands and smell the coppery scent of it hanging in the air all around him.

It was so bad in the beginning that he often awoke from nightmares of it, gasping for breath and drenched in a cold sweat that even the heat of a blistering shower couldn’t fully wipe away.

But it was getting better with time, and as selfish as he knew it was, the main reason for that was because he had the assurance that you would never know or remember the exact details of what happened that terrible day. Even five years later, you never once gave him any indication to believe that the false memory he had planted in your mind was fading. It didn’t completely wash away the immense guilt he still felt over it, but had you been allowed to hold it over his head like he knew you most certainly would have, it would have eventually torn him apart from the inside out and made even looking at you and the children nearly unbearable.

…

…

…

“Are you listening to me you fucking asshole?!”

Something whizzed past his face and crashed into the wall behind him, pulling him from his musings and bringing his mind back to the present situation at hand.

Kai turned his head to see that it was the bottle of whiskey that had been sitting in the middle of the table, the amber liquid slowly trickling down the pristine white wall and forming a puddle on the floor, along with the broken shards of glass.

Having two children, especially when one of them was a very rambunctious toddler, had done a lot to help him develop a stronger tolerance for messes and disorder, but even so, having a full grown man throw such a childish temper tantrum in his presence was more than enough to make his brow twitch in irritation.

Kai shook his head in disgust. “I have to admit, this really is rather pathetic.” He said, turning back to face the group across from him. “ When my son was going through his terrible twos, he was still better behaved than you and your sorry lot.” And from somewhere behind him, he heard quiet laughter come from the men standing against the wall. Not a surprise really, his Precepts had all spent enough time around the boy these last five years and knew perfectly well how energetic he could be, thankfully though, for as much as Kazue took after Kai in the looks and quirk department, he had seemingly inherited your mellow disposition.

It took a minute, but once the insult fully registered, the man’s face turned an impressive shade of red for a few moments before a thought must have hit his pea-sized brain and a sinister smirk curled up the corner of his lips.

“A son, huh?” He said, easily taking the bait Kai laid out for him. “Gotta say, I never would have suspected that the feared Head of the Shie Hassaikai was a family man.” The morons behind him must have thought he was doing a remarkable job of it, since they all laughed right along with him, and spurred on by his men’s reactions, he unknowingly kept digging his own grave. “That must mean you have yourself a woman…” 

His words might have actually hit their intended mark, had Kai not already anticipated the response and prepared his temper for it accordingly. He didn’t exactly need a reason to take the fools out, he could have done so already and called it a day, but he was feeling generous at the moment and decided to allow the scumbags before him to think they could have been spared from his wrath if only they had left talk of you and Kazue out of it.

“I’ve heard how insanely high maintenance you are, so she must be one helluva ride in the fucking sack if she caught your eye.” He continued on, so convinced of his own superiority over Kai and his Precepts that he failed to notice the way his disrespectful words had very quickly drawn the ire of the loyal men standing behind the golden eyed leader. “Tell you what, you give me and my men a free pass with her, and we’ll call this whole situation a simple misunderstanding.”

Kai knew that such a remark was coming, but even then, the rage that consumed him was so blinding, so all consuming, that it almost caused his quirk to activate without conscious thought.

But surprisingly, it wasn’t Kai himself that reacted first, it was Hojo who slammed the side of a crystal fist against the back wall, the force of it cracking the cement and rattling the room hard enough that debris rained down from the ceiling in a few places.

“Keep your disgusting comments about the Lady out of your filthy mouths.” He said, his tone low and menacing. “If I hear something like that again, I’ll personally nail each and every one of you to the walls by your shriveled up balls and dicks.” Hojo’s eyes were normally shadowed, but right now, the crystals that formed them were bright and blazing with barely contained fury.

Silence filled the meeting room for a few short seconds before the leader of the soon to be eradicated gang spoke up again, this time with a bit of fear lacing his otherwise steady tone of voice. Kai didn’t know if it was overconfidence, or just plain stupidity that kept him from pissing himself, but the little fucker had some balls, that was for sure, and Kai was willing to give him credit in that regard at the very least.

“Are all of you Hassaikai pricks this sensitive when it comes to such little things?” He scoffed dismissively before meeting Kai’s gaze. “You disrespected us, and I only suggested it as an easy way for you to express your regrets, but if it’s too difficult to hand over your woman to us for a night, then I’m sure we can figure something else out to fix this situation.”

Kai was now thoroughly convinced; this moron's overinflated bravado and sense of self worth was heightened by nothing more than sheer stupidity. For him to think that Kai cared enough about making this deal happen that he’d be willing to bend over backwards to please them was just plain laughable. They had more than enough mules to push their product, they didn’t need these inconsequential nobodies, but enlisting a few extra hands never hurt.

It’s just a shame that some of those hands were a little too far reaching.

“Is that so?” Kai said quietly. “You must be quite full of yourself if you think that asking for permission to violate my wife is something I’m just going to overlook?” His voice was level and lethally calm, but the absolute disgust he felt could be heard in each word he spoke.

The moment the words registered in their pea-brain heads, all the men went as still as statues and noticeably paled. It would have been one thing if they had insulted a common whore or a bed warmer, but they didn’t, they insulted a powerful leader’s wife, and it didn’t make a lick of difference to Kai whether the fools knew that detail beforehand or not.

They tried to plead half-hearted apologies, then they begged, then they tried to run…

Then, the bloodletting began.

—————

Kai slumped back in the chair behind his desk with an audible groan as Hari placed a glass of bourbon before him and took a seat across from him with his own.

“So, did you get it all out of your system?” The silver haired man asked him, hiding his insufferable and knowing grin with a well timed sip of his drink.

Kai glared, albeit half-heartedly. “And just what is that supposed to mean?” He asked, and picked up his own glass, downing the knuckles worth of liquor in one go

Kai’s disposition had mellowed out in the years since Kazue’s birth, Hari thought, and while he would never call the man soft or say he’d lost his brutal edge, he had certainly opened up and relaxed a bit more when it came to those within their inner circle. But even still, he knew better than to outright laugh at him. He could easily get away with a bit of heckling, but even he had his limits where Kai’s temper was concerned.

“You went into that meeting looking for any excuse you could to take out that pent up aggression of yours on them, that’s the only reason you allowed it to happen in the first place.” The second in command shot back. “So, which one of you was it this time?”

There was silence between them for a few more heartbeats before Kai spoke.

“Her.”

That one simple word carried so much weight to it that Hari could practically see it wearing his friend down.

“Well that explains it.”

Kai nodded in answer but didn’t elaborate any further. There was no need to, Hari already knew everything there was to know about the situation, about the little game you and he had been playing for the better part of the last two years.

It had truly been an accident, the day you had unknowingly walked into this very office, only to find him with his hand wrapped around his cock, and watching one of the many saved videos he had from the camera recordings of your old room down below. The volume had been reduced considerably, but there had been no mistaking the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, or that of your exquisite voice moaning and crying out his name.

You had stood in the doorway for only a handful of seconds before turning on your heel and leaving without a single word, but in that short span of time, Kai had seen the way your eyes lingered on his aching cock, had seen the way you licked your dry lips before biting the bottom one between your teeth. It was that image, not the one of you and himself together on the screen of his computer, that had sent him over the edge into a mind numbing orgasm.

But once the haze of pleasure had ebbed away and no longer clouded his sense of thought or reason, the panic had quickly set in. All throughout the rest of the day, he had been terrified that this incident would set back all the progress the two of you had made together so far these last three years. He had anticipated you getting angry and calling him a vile piece of shit at best, or giving him the cold shoulder at worst, what he hadn’t expected though, was that you wouldn’t do anything at all.

At first…

Nothing was amiss, you’d acted no differently than normal, and if he hadn’t known any better, he might have even gotten it into his head that he had imagined your appearance in his office earlier. He let himself think that perhaps you just wanted to pretend that it had never happened and you were showing him kindness by not bringing it up. So, as the night wore on, he’d relaxed more and more, and when the children were finally put to bed and fast asleep, he hadn’t given it a single thought when you said you were going to take a bath to relax before joining him in bed.

Until he saw you approach his closet, got a look at what you had grabbed from its contents, and realized that your real reaction was going to be so much worse for him than what he had originally built up in his mind.

—————

Kai watched, his curiosity now thoroughly peaked enough that he didn’t dare ask what it was you were doing, as you made a beeline straight for his closet.

He kept his eyes trained on the entryway as you disappeared into an out of the way corner within the small space and began rummaging around. He strained his hearing, trying his best to figure out what you were looking for based on the sounds, but he couldn't be entirely too sure and gave up after a short while, resigning himself to just learning what it was when you finally emerged.

And soon enough, you did, but what you held in your hand was nearly enough to give him a heart attack, because there, dangling loosely from your grip, as if it were nothing more that a simple article of clothing, was one of the many toys he’d always kept stashed away in a trunk at the back of the closet. He’d kept them all, but after he moved you and everyone else upstairs to the main house, he’d made sure that you and he had separate closets, so you’d have a place to change clothes in private, and the trunk was placed in his, and somehow, you must have guessed that he’d do such a thing, because he had certainly never mentioned it to you.

He recognized it as one that he’d used on you fairly regularly; long and purple, it was shaped like a realistic cock, including ridges to resemble veins and complete with all the bells and whistles of a regular vibrator, it even had an attachment meant to help stimulate the clit. And whenever he used it on you back then, he always loved just letting it sit there inside of you, sometimes tucking your soaked panties around its base to help keep it in place so his hands could be free to pleasure you in other places, or stimulate himself while he watched and listened to you beg and plead with him to take it out or make the over-stimulation end.

He tried to keep you from seeing just how much the sight of you with that object was affecting, not just a certain key area of his lower body, but his mental state as well, but he highly doubted he was doing a very good job of it. He sometimes didn’t know how to act around you anymore now that he was striving to be less dominant and forceful with you. It was probably one of the hardest things he had ever done, and even now, after years of teaching himself not to react in a volatile manner when you did or said something that he didn’t approve of, it still ate away at his pride a little.

The idea of you pleasuring yourself was never a thought he allowed his mind to dwell on for too long, mostly because it was a subject that did nothing more than rub salt into the wound that was his still broken heart. All it did was remind him of those last words you spoke to him right before that terrible incident three years ago, when you said you always tried to think of someone else every time he forced himself on you. He knew you’d only said it to hurt him, but the comment most definitely hit its intended target, and every time the words unwittingly came to the forefront of his mind, it proved a challenge for him to keep himself from raging like a madman. He wanted so very badly to grab you and throw you down onto the bed, to fill you with his cock again and make you cry out his name like a prayer to the heavens, make you swear that you’d never touch yourself again unless it was to put on a show for him.

 These days though, those moments were growing fewer and farther between.

He knew that his dominant and forceful approach to intimacy wasn’t something he’d ever be able to completely erase from his personality, but he promised himself that if you ever choose to be intimate with him again, he would put forth every ounce of effort he could muster towards begin better, to being a man that was worthy of your willingness and acceptance. He’d told you before that if you ever choose to be with him like that again, that things would go right back to the way they’d been and you would have no one to blame but yourself for it, and while that statement had been true at the time, that was no longer the case for him.

But seeing you standing before him now, dressed in nothing but a black nightgown that hugged all your lovely curves perfectly and holding that toy in your delicate hand, he felt his self control hanging on by a very flimsy thread as he, very unrealistically, imagined you blessedly asking him to help you with it.

He was so distracted by the sight of you that he barely heard you when you spoke and he had to awkwardly ask you to repeat yourself.

You didn’t smile or react in any way except to hold the vibrator up in the air, as if it needed to be pointed out so he’d know what you were referring to, and repeat yourself.

“This one is waterproof, right?” You asked, your face a mask of bored indifference. “I remember you used it on me in the shower a few times, or was it a different one than this? There were a few purple ones mixed in there.”

Kai blinked at you in shock, because in the last three years, not a single word had been uttered between the two of you regarding your prior sex life. He hadn’t wanted to trigger you by making references to it, and he just assumed that you never brought it up because of fairly obvious reasons. It genuinely surprised him how easily you were mentioning it, and with such a straight face and bland expression. He guessed you were only trying to goad him into reacting as pay back for what you had caught him doing earlier, but he figured it was best to move it along quickly to avoid falling into whatever trap you were potentially trying to lay out for him. His patience and self control could only stretch so far after all.

He cleared his throat and forced his gaze to turn back towards the report in his hand, not that he was actually reading it anymore, but that was beside the point.

“It’s waterproof.” He said, perhaps a bit too tightly. “It’s been years since it’s been used though, so the batteries might be dead, and it’ll need to be thoroughly cleaned.”

He hoped that would be enough to satisfy you and you’d finally take it away from his presence, but the sudden buzzing sound told him he wasn’t that lucky and he gripped the paperwork in his hand all the tighter to keep himself in check.

“Sounds like it’s working just fine to me.” You said, clicking it through all of its different settings before it went silent once more and he relaxed ever so slightly. “If you’re asleep when I get done, I’ll try not to wake you up when I come to bed.”

And with that, you walked off, quietly shutting the bathroom door behind you and leaving him alone in relative silence, but the moment he heard the sound of rushing water filling up the tub, he scrambled to turn the bedside lamp off and go to sleep as quickly as possible. He hoped he might get lucky and you’d do whatever it was you wanted with that thing while the water was still running and spare him from the potential torture of having to hear anything, or better yet, maybe you wouldn’t do anything with it at all and you taking it in there with you was just for show.

The water shut off and he waited a solid ten minutes or so before he deemed it safe to finally relax and try to fall asleep like normal, but then it happened…

He heard the muffled vibrations of the toy and the sloshing of the water, and not even a few seconds later, his keen hearing also picked up on the unmistakable sound of your quiet little moans and gasps of pleasure.

He was lying on his stomach, with his hard cock pinned uncomfortably between himself and the bed, but he refused to move and relieve himself. Even as the noises you made grew higher in pitch and more erratic, he wanted to listen to them all, to absorb them all and use them for his own fantasies, and all the while, he felt utterly torn between praying that you’d stop, and never wanting it to end. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering if it was himself you were thinking of in there, if you were remembering all the ways he used to touch you and kiss you, if you were hearing his phantom voice whispering filthy words and dark promises in your ear, but most of all, he couldn’t help but wonder if you would end up feeling dirty and regretting it afterwards, if you were in fact thinking of him.

Eventually, your voice reached a pitch that couldn’t be misinterpreted as anything but that of someone reaching the peak of orgasmic pleasure and Kai found himself near to weeping in gratitude when all went quiet again before the sound of draining water filled the silence instead. He knew you would be coming out and climbing into bed at any moment and silently willed his aching cock and rising desire to calm down and lessen.

A few minutes later, after the water stopped draining from the tub, Kai heard the door quietly creak open and he listened intently while you padded across the carpeted floor and climbed into bed with him.

He was surprised when he felt you slide over and cuddle up to his back, having thought that you wouldn’t be comfortable with it tonight, but you dropped your arm across his waist and allowed your hand to rest on his stomach, dangerously close to the tip of still fully erect cock, but he certainly wasn’t about to make any complaints about it. These moments with you at night were bittersweet torture for him, but Kai wouldn’t end them for all the world, not when it was the only time he allowed himself the privilege of touching you for longer than a few scant seconds. Even if the puffs of your breath on the back of his neck made his hips and cock twitch, and the feel of your unbound breasts pressing into his shoulder-blades made him imagine rolling over-top of you and latching his mouth onto one of those sensitive little nipples through the nightshirt you currently wore.

“Kai?”

Your voice cut straight through the fog of sleep that was beginning to cloud his senses and he shifted ever so slightly to let you know he was still aware and listening.

He felt you smile against the back of his neck and stiffened when you leaned up to breathe the words against the sensitive skin behind his ear. “I just thought you should know that we’re even for now.” And to his complete shock and surprise, you laid a quick, barely there kiss to that same little spot of skin. “That’s all.”

—————

That night was the precursor to what would become this ongoing game between the two of you that had been playing out for nearly two years.

Kai hadn’t been able to get what you’d said out of his head for nearly a week afterwards, or rather, it was two words in particular that stuck with him so strongly.

‘For now.’

He might have overlooked it, had you not said it in that teasing and lilting tone of yours and concluded it with that little brush of your lips. 

So, he decided to test out this new theory of his, and the next time he felt the urge to pleasure himself, he made sure you would be fully aware of it.

He’d done it simply by taking a shower at the right time and leaving the bathroom door slightly ajar, and when he heard you enter the bedroom, he hadn’t bothered to try and contain the sounds of his pleasure or stop your name from rolling off his tongue. Knowing that you had been fully aware of what he was in the midst of doing, that you were just on the other side of the door, had heightened the intensity of his orgasm when he finally found release, enough so that he’d had to take a seat on the bench in the shower to catch his breath before drying off and emerging.

You’d taken a seat in front of the tv on the other side of the large room, watching some kind of documentary, but he’d been able to tell right off the bat that you hadn’t been paying a lick of attention to it. You’d kept stealing so many sidelong glances at him that it was almost comical, and when he flashed you a knowing smirk before climbing in bed that night, he knew without a doubt that you’d understood he’d done it on purpose.

Two days later, you’d done it again as well, letting him hear every little sound that escaped your mouth while you fucked yourself with your own fingers this time, and while he never once heard his name fall from your lips, he was confident this time that it was him that you were imagining, him, and no one else.

The two of you had been at it ever since, and over time, some unspoken rules had developed between you both, especially since it had escalated and moved from the bathroom to the bedroom where you both laid side by side.

For starters, while this was something that the two of you both participated in, it was never spoken about, either during or afterwards. Neither of you sought pleasure at the same time or on the same night, and though both of you knew that the other was always listening intently and sometimes even watching, it was always done under the guise of pretending to be asleep.

“So, what made this time so difficult?” Hari asked him casually, pulling him from his introspection on these events of the past.

It seemed to be a running theme for him today.

Kai gritted his teeth as a wave of arousal washed over him. “She let my name slip again.”

Last night had been your turn, and when he’d cracked his eyes open just bit to see your fingers pinching one perfect nipple and your hips rising off the bed with the force of your orgasm, he’d nearly broken one of those unspoken rules when you’d breathlessly whisper-moaned his name. It wasn’t the first time you’d done it, but even still, it hit him just as hard whenever it did slip out.

Sometimes, whenever he let himself dwell on the thought of it for too long, he felt like it might just drive him mad.

For fear of ruining what little trust and progress you had gained with him these last five years, he could never bring himself to ask why you couldn’t simply admit that you wanted to resume sharing his bed with him in every way that counted. Not just to sleep and rest in, nor as a ruse for the sake of allowing the children to believe they still had two parents who loved one another. You knew from experience that he could bring you more pleasure in bed than you ever could hope to achieve on your own, and you obviously still wanted him, if not emotionally, then physically at the very least, and he often wondered what would happen if he were to break down and ask you about it. But every time he started to open his mouth to do so, all those ghosts of the past would creep up his spine and remind him of all the horrible ways such a thing could backfire on him and the ramifications that would follow.

As Kai continued to silently stew in his own bitter musings, Hari couldn’t help but let his own thoughts wander in the same direction.

His own relationship with your sister was at a similar standstill, but for all the opposite reasons.

After that first night, when she came to him, drunk and seeking a way to help her forget about the temporary death she and the doctor had miraculously managed to pull you back from after the horrific birth of Kazue, it hadn’t stopped after that. It was like the dam that was her iron resolve had permanently cracked after that and she couldn’t bring herself to stay away from him any longer. And even though it was mindbogglingly amazing, the best sex he had ever had in all honesty, it just so happened to be the thing tearing him apart inside, because that’s all it was.

Just sex.

She came to him for it whenever Rappa wasn’t around, and sometimes even when he was and she just wanted a change of pace. But she never stayed for very long afterwards, not unless she was interested in going at it again for multiple rounds. Beyond that first night, she never slept in his bed, nor did she allow him to sleep in hers. Once in a while she would stick around and chat with him while she got her bearings back or while she took her time getting redressed, but she never stayed for too much longer than that

There were so many times he felt that he should just give up and accept that he’d never have her the way he truly wanted, but whenever she came to him, he couldn’t bring himself to ever turn her down. He kept holding onto the hope that she’d one day see what they could have together if only she’d give him a chance and open up more than just her body to him. He could give her so much more than Rappa ever could, and she knew that, but still she refused to give him the opportunity to prove it to her.

Hari never once tried to talk to Kai about this though, as the other man had more than enough stress and worry of his own to deal with. Not to mention, he felt like talking to him about the frequency of his own sex life would probably do nothing but make his boss dwell even harder on the continued lack of it in his own relationship with you. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him to share a bed with you every night, listening to you pleasure yourself so often right beside him, and not give into the temptation of touching you. He might not fully understand why Kai let this stalemate with you drag on for so long, but he couldn’t deny how much he admired the man’s level of restraint and determination to see his promise to you fulfilled.

Neither of them spoke much after that, and their once companionable silence soon morphed into morose brooding as each of them continued to dwell on the issues surrounding the women in their lives.

For those of you who aren’t aware, I set up a poll a few days ago asking whether or not I should split this finale into two parts, and while it was a close match, the majority said they wanted it split, so that’s what this is.

I apologize that this entire chapter was Kai-centric, I know a lot of people prefer to read entirely from the Reader’s POV, but I felt that an entire chapter/part from Kai’s perspective was necessary to get across the changes he’s gone through during the time-skip. 

We’ll be getting back to the Reader in the next chapter though and you’ll all get to see how she’s been fairing, rather than hearing about it secondhand from Kai. So I’m hoping to have Part 2 finished and posted in a couple of weeks, so please be on the lookout! 🥰

I hope you all enjoy this and please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think! Thank you for all the support!

And as always, I want to give a BIG thank you to my amazing friend @talpup for all the brainstorming and encouragement on these stories! I’m  sure I would have given up on this blog a while ago if it wasn’t for all of  their help. I highly encourage anyone who takes the time to read this to  go over to their page or their AO3 account under the sam name and  check out their works, especially Chaos and Lost Song. They are   two of my favorite BNHA fics of ALL TIME! And who has also started their own Yandere!Overhaul fic called Crossroads and is set in a 1920′s prohibition style era, it’s amazing and you need to check it out!

#18+ONLY #MINORS DNI #Purity #yandere!overhaul #fem!reader #yandere!overhaul x fem!reader #chisaki kai #chisaki kai x reader #reader insert #emotions and feels #ANGST #trigger warnings #lots of them #domestic abuse #referenced noncon #referenced kidnapping #referenced child abuse #past abuse #blackmail #violence #manipulative behavior #possessive behavior #threats #emotional and mental manipulation #gaslighting #toxic relationship #typical yandere behavior #but there is growth and development #on Kai's part

[starlocked01]

Romulus

Ch 2- anger

content warnings for death and mentioned abuse in this chapter

#sanders sides #tssbb2022 #roman sanders #remus sanders #c!thomas sanders #virgil sanders #minor character death #referenced child abuse

[sylvanfreckles]

Day Twenty-Eight: Flashbacks

“Words are a powerful weapon to a man like your father,” Aunt Amelie replied. “I doubt whatever he’s planning is for your benefit.”

#comfortember #comfortember 2023 #miraculous ladybug #fic #adrien agreste #amelie graham de vanily #angst and hurt/comfort #referenced child abuse