#problematic or not it barely ever changes their mind

[phoenix--flying]

need people to realize its not worth the effort hating on ships they dont like

[mamayan]

★Mind Break☆

Cult Leader! Tenko Shigaraki x AFAB! Reader

You should’ve known better than to run from the devil.

WARNING: This work contains depictions of psychological, physical, and emotional torture. Cult ideologies/problematic religious themes will be present throughout this writing, and will include nonconsensual and dubiously consensual sexual content. Abuse, violence, murder, sadism, and blood used even in a sexual context will be present. This story is not a romance, and depicts unhealthy obsessions and mental illness caused by psychological breaks. I am not going to tag this work further. By reading this work, you are agreeing that you understand it will include morally conflicting content and sexually explicit material which can be considered extreme. Read at your own risk, and enjoy. ♡

It wasn’t always like this.

You shift, abhorring your inability to function properly anymore, trying to make your body comfortable despite the freezing temperature having numbed your muscles into lead.

The metal bed chained and hanging off the damp stone walls seemed to inject ice into the very marrow of your bones. Was there even a point to it?

You distractedly listen to the soft scurry and skitter of mice. That was the point of it.

Everything hurt.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, face blotchy and swollen from the last round you’d given into.

It wasn’t like this before.

Sure, you’d occasionally slip up, and you’d get a swift smack on your ass for causing trouble. Where was that treatment now? It changed when he stepped up. When Father Shigaraki passed the torch to him, your life became a walking nightmare.

Your chest constricted, eyes shutting despite no light illuminating your surroundings as memories flooded. The throbbing in your skull becoming a fist pounding to get out.

When you’d finally gotten old enough, you’d left the compound. Ran away from everything you’d ever known and loved. Your instincts had screamed at you to get away. Tenko had become a man you could not withstand, because despite his treatment towards you, everyone loved him. They had hailed him as the next great leader and prophet, saying that he’d bring them to greatness and no one would’ve believed you. He was hope in the dark world for your community, and that was the sign which showed you that the only way to survive was to distance yourself as far as possible.

You stayed hidden for nearly five years… you truly thought for a moment you were free. You thought he’d forgotten. That your past would let bygones be bygones.

You were sorely mistaken.

You clenched your teeth as the loud sirens began, the noise so sharp and painful it made your head nearly break.

You could only weakly curl up, mind so foggy and disoriented you didn’t hear anything but a constant buzzing tone in your ears as the siren waned into silence again. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve slept. Food was brought but it was merely pushed through a hole at the bottom of your metal door. You got two meals a day, bread and a watery vegetable soup.

The sharp pounding on the door cuts through the tinnitus and has you scrambling off the bed, muscles screaming in protest as your skin splits under the jagged earth you’d thrown yourself onto. Tattered clothing not helping the painful friction as you dig your bare feet into the stone and pushed yourself against a wall.

You weren’t fully cognizant, but as the heavy lock turned, you whined as warm light crawled into your space, nearly blinding you despite the dullness.

“Poor thing…,” his voice was raspier than you remember, more gravely in depth as he chuckles, looking down at your pathetic form curled and shaking.

“How’re you doing my little lamb?” His humor isn’t disguised in the least, his glee at seeing you vulnerable and weak for him obvious as he grins.

He tracks your bloody hands weakly hugging yourself, your bottom lip trembling as you look up under your lashes with those teary eyes he adores so much.

Your small pink tongue dips out to lick your lips, his dark garnet eyes watching intently.

“M-m’cold…” your voice is tiny, hardly audible.

His boots thump loudly as he walks towards you, ignoring how you clearly tense up and attempt to mold yourself into the wall to get away from him. When he’s close enough to nearly touch your bare feet with his boots, he crouches down, resting his forearms on dark denim as he tilts his head with a soft expression.

“Tell me lamb, was it fun out there?” The light against his back blanketed his pale skin in warmth, “Did you have fun in the big wide world, running around, dirtying yourself like some common whore?” You flinch as his tone grows in severity. Blurry vision looking at a familiar yet not face.

He has a scar on his lip, one which hadn’t been there before, crossing straight down.

He was still a beautiful man, the scar even seeming to add a masculine charm to his otherwise somewhat pretty visage. Soft purple rings clung beneath his eyes though, making him look softer somehow. He looked like he’d slept about as much as you.

You stared too long.

You can’t react when his hand shoots out and curls around your neck, fingers and rings digging painfully into your flesh as he cuts off your oxygen cruelly. Your fingers grasp at his wrist and hand, futile in their attempt to pry his death grip off your throat as you slowly suffocate. The pinch and pull of the jewelry he wore was breaking the delicate skin and making it more slippery as blood flowed.

He’s rambling, but it sounds like you’re underwater and he’s above the surface, as if he’s speaking another language.

Tears pool down your cheeks, rivers running freely like your blood as your face begins to take on a sickly dark hue, veins bulging in your face and eyes popping wide from their sockets. A few blood vessels bursting in your left eye.

Just as your vision goes dark, he lets you go.

Your coughing fit which followed nothing glamorous or cute, sputtering and hacking as bile rose but nothing came out. Your throat burned like someone forced you to drink gasoline and swallow a lit match, dropping over to your side by his feet and clutching where he’d left bloody indents.

“Pfft, you haven’t changed at all… I’m glad honestly.”

His boot connects with your side, merciful in the amount of strength exerted but still painful in your weakened state. You sputtered, nearly choking again on your saliva as you tremble and struggle to draw in air.

“No one is going to save you lamb, no one even wants to. When you ran away, you died to everyone here, everyone but me,” you can smell the leather of his shoe as he lifts it and brings it to your head, pushing down until you literally croak. “You should be grateful I’m showing so much grace to you lamb, the others suggested I do much, much worse to rehabilitate you.” His voice is snide while your heart wars with his words. He’s lying, he had to be.

You could only cry though. Sniffling beneath his boot as he lifted it off you, eager to look at your face.

His smile is vile, you note as your tired eyes flick up. He looked nothing like the messenger angel Father Shigaraki had dubbed him before his passing. As your tears blurred his pretty image… he looked like a demon from hell. A beautiful monster.

You weren’t sure what he even wanted from you, what it was he truly craved, but you wanted the pain to end.

Your palms scraped against the damp gravely floor below, finding a somewhat good position to lean your weight on and push your body up, even as your blood created an imbalance due to the slickness. Tenko let you, watching as your head hung in defeat lowered even further, chin tucked to your chest as your knees slid up. When you got to a semi-kneeling position, one hand steadying you on the ground, the other… the other reaching out and gripping his pant leg.

Those red eyes widened a fraction, watching intently as you look up at him from your spot on the floor.

His heart rate increased, pounding in his chest as he drank you in, lips twitching as his teeth ached. He didn’t stop you from using him as an anchor and rising up enough to sink your other hand into his pants too.

You looked like a dog begging for a treat, and his cock throbbed in agreement.

You remembered the degrading title he used to force you to call him when you were younger.

“M-Master…” it was almost inaudible, your sweet lips struggling to even form words after the abuse he leveled your throat.

“Master please…” even as your tears continued to fall, face ruined and messy, he laughed. Deep and boisterous, he nearly doubled over as he bared his white teeth.

“Fuck haha! You—!, okay, alright, what do you want little lamb, hm?” Once he calmed down enough, adrenaline high as he stares down at you with a renewed sense of vigor, he spoke.

He leaned down a bit, cupping your jaw and smiling deeper when you cringe and flinch, but still don’t pull away.

“Go ahead, you got my attention now.” He says it almost benevolently, but his eyes were impatient.

It hurt to swallow, your mouth having gone dry as you parted your lips.

“I want to be forgiven… I’m sorry…”

He lifted one sparse brow up. “Yeah? You’re sorry?” You nod, jerky and short as your neck flames up in pain.

He straights, tapping a finger against his lip in a gesture of consideration.

“Okay little lamb,” he snickers, “I’m willing to forgive you and let you leave here, but you need to be cleaned first.” You perk up, eyes finding a hint of light as the prospect of relief is dangled in front of you.

“Yes, anything please,” you gasp, desperation bleeding into your voice.

That’s why it takes you by surprise when his hands drop and begin to calmly undo his leather belt. Fingers steady and sure as you blankly watch him unbutton his jeans, and shimmy them down enough for his fat leaking cock to spring free.

“Well then, we can start by cleaning this filthy mouth first.” His eyes are closed as he grins, pearly canines on display and distorted features resembling something inhuman.

“T-Tenko…?” His hand not holding his cock swiftly sinks into your hair, easily dragging your face closer so he can slap the hard rod against your soft cheek a few times, the smell of him warm and bitter, contrasted by the damp cool air around you. “That’s not what you call me, is it lamb?” He doesn’t sound angry, but when you look back up, he’s dropped his cock and raised his hand.

The blow is more sharp than it is brute force, your head held in place by his other hand to avoid you collapsing and hitting your head on the floor.

Your cry echoes weakly. Face inflamed as your jerked right back to his groin where he smashes your injured cheek against his dick, rubbing it in as he groans.

“You need to be retaught manners too it seems, but we’ll just stick with a simple cleaning today.”

He’s speaking as if discussing a mundane topic like the weather, scolding you like one might scold a child in school. His tip rubbing and spreading pre-cum and tears across your face as you calm down from the pain he assaulted you with.

“Open your mouth.” He’s not asking but you obey and part your lips.

He holds a lot of your weight up by your hair, watching in fascination as his swollen mushroom tip rests against your bottom lip. His engorged meat rod looks insidious against your face pretty, thick veins protruding from the angry red of the skin, long and thick but tapering towards the tip a little where it curves up. He lets his hips tip, the tip entering your warm wet cavern, lips opening wider as he sinks about a quarter inside.

Your face scrunches, likely due to the sensation and taste of him, little tongue moving languidly against the underside of his shaft. He curses, bucking his hips a little more and arm exerting force when you attempt to pull back.

You whine around him, hands trying to push his hips back but too weak to prevent him from sliding out and doing it again.

“That’s it lamb, I’m just cleaning your mouth, relax~” he chuckles, Tenko’s grip in your hair tightening painfully as he begins testing your limits with depth and speed.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if, fuck, you just stayed home where you belong like a good girl,” he moans, your teeth accidentally grazing his cock but it seems to spur him on rather than flinch in pain.

“Shit, that’s it, go ahead and bite if you feel like dealing with a concussion, I’ll break your skull on this floor happily.” He’s sneering down at you, loving the fear which enters your gaze as you now struggle to open wider and avoid such a fate. It only helps him work his cock deeper, into your throat where you almost scream due to the blinding pain.

His earlier damage still too fresh as he loses it moaning, your slobber and blood now coating his cock and bringing delicious friction as he lets his tip tease your raw throat. His balls tap against the under side of your chin, his white pubic hair nearly tickling inside your nose as he tries to fit all of himself inside your mouth.

The noises you made would make any normal person stop. The painful howls muffled by his cock and stuffed back down your throat, his speed increasing as his balls drew tight.

“Have to keep you clean inside and out lamb, so you’re going to take every drop—,” his teeth are grit, grinding together as his orgasm washes over him, hot ropes of cum gagging and suffocating you again as he lets his cock rest inside your throat while he finishes. You don’t feel the cum, only him twitch as he empties his load into your belly.

Your eyes stare blankly at nothing. Dark spots dotting your vision even when he pulls out and pushes you off him.

You land on your side, wheezing and clutching your throat again as you blink away the darkness threatening to consume you, your adrenaline keeping you awake as Tenko crouches down beside you again.

He’d redressed, looking unfazed with a healthy pink hue to his cheeks now.

“C-can I leave now…?” Your voice doesn’t even sound like your own now. Each syllable grating on your damaged flesh.

“Why the fuck would I let you leave?” His words nearly stop your heart. Icy dread replacing the burning.

“Y-you said…” your eyes leaked, face showing your absolute shock and disbelief.

He laughed, standing up again, shoving his hands in his pockets as he smiled down at you.

“I lied.”

His lips tug higher as he leaves, locking you away again even as your wail echoes woefully throughout his hideout.

Invisible needles stabbed up your knees, waking you up more than the blaring white light.

You wanted out, away from this migraine inducing brightness, but all you could do was pray.

As a child, you’d preferred to sleep or pass notes around rather than be immersed in devotional. You wished you paid more attention, because only God could save you from this hell.

You flinched, startling yourself as shadows stretched and danced around the walls, despite the fluorescents preventing such things from being cast.

Your arms wrap around yourself, kneeling and hunched over as the visions continued even when you closed your eyes. Faceless dark creatures trying to pry into your mind as you scream, the noise bouncing back and slamming into your sensitive eardrums, breaking you from the moment.

They were gone, your weary eyes tracked, licking your dry chapped lips and imagining how nice it would be to have some sort of lip balm or lotion.

Your head bowed again, lips running through carefully memorized prayers as events from your past unfurl like a blooming rose. Each petal a fractured piece you try to suppress and fail, the voice of your therapist so distant now since you’ve been home.

Deep breathes led to panic attacks and unconsciousness, the faces of family and friends skewed into wicked distortions you struggled to differentiate between dream and reality.

Tenko remained vivid in your memories though. You grimaced, as it was likely due to the pain he inflicted in your youth, which seared into your subconscious as a warning for any future interactions. Humans rarely touch a hot stove twice.

You shake and tremble as time drags on, murmuring scripture from memory as best you can to ask for grace, pleading for your safe release.

Tiny patters catch your attention, eyes blinking open and staring at a small mouse. Soft tuffs of light brown fur, the little creature might’ve invoked disgust and fear before your capture, but now only bland curiosity filled you.

It scurried around for a while, sniffing at the metal tray left by a thin hole on the bottom of the door, looking for crumbs it would not find.

It was… abhorrently cute.

You returned to prayer, until your evening meal arrived and was silently exchanged, your eyes catching not even a glimpse of skin.

You shuffled awkwardly before the tray, decorum gone as you eat with need for survival instead of enjoyment, eyes steely and swirling almost violently as a tiny squeak draws your attention down.

The mouse. Tiny pinpoint dark eyes and a little pink twitching nose face you.

You should kill it. It likely had diseases or something else, it’s better of dead but…

Something inside prevents you, and instead you drop a few crumbs of bread.

It was all you could spare. The little creature isn’t wasteful though, eating with gusto unlike you as you watch in mild amusement.

“If you like the food so much, we should switch places,” you whisper jokingly, the mouse ignoring you in favor of licking and sniffing out even the most minuscule piece of food left.

You finish your meal too, however unsatisfying and unfulfilling.

Your eyes close shut even though the light disallows you any proper rest, mind shutting off like a device to power down.

Your hazy brain reboots at the sound of footsteps some time later, obnoxious compared to the ones belonging to the one in charge of food delivery.

Tenko, your brain unhelpfully supplies. You don’t want to see him. You want nothing to do with him or this compound anymore, but your body was beginning to associate him with more than just pain.

He was warm, physically speaking at least, and the skin on skin contact left you reeling with comfort you didn’t want to receive from him. He’s a lunatic and a psychopath, and you loathe him like none other, but the terror of him is equal to the hatred.

Your new friend abandons you as the locks turn, your eyes trailing up from the ground to watch as the door slowly swings open, revealing the man who haunts even your dreams.

“Hello little lamb, did you miss me?”

Each wobbly step felt like treading over broken glass.

You could hardly stand, legs truly unused to the feeling as you’d given up your mad pacing in favor of protecting the damaged soles of your feet.

Not anymore though, as the hand tangled in your locks jerked you onward, using your hair almost like a lead as you stare at the filthy floor you traverse on, destination left an anxiety filled mystery.

“Come on little lamb~ we’re nearly there,” his soft cooing voice makes your insides revolt, twisting and causing you to stumble.

At least he’s there to make sure your face doesn’t hit the hard surface of the ground, oddly powerful in his lean physique as he simply holds up your weight and pulls you along side him.

He’s merry and cheerful, whistling occasionally as he strolls as if through a friendly neighborhood park and not some type of underground dungeon only found in medieval theatrics.

Your eyes trail back at the light smattering of your blood on the floor, wearily looking as far ahead as you could in this half crouched position.

It was dimmer out here than your cell. The blaring alarms replaced by white hot light that seared your mind awake and deprived you of sleep further.

Out here the shadows danced. Your eyes fearfully taking in the monsters beginning to crawl off the walls and towards you, just out of reach though, as if Tenko was holding them back.

That scared you even more.

A new room came up just at the end of the hall, a shorter distance than you’d felt it was.

He hauled you forward and threw you inside before dim lights illuminated the space from an antique switch on the wall.

There was only a chandelier in here, you noted before the breath left your lungs on impact with the ground, side blaring up in pain as you lay still.

Your eyes widen, pupils dilating as strange staticky figures moved about the space, the room swirling like a whirlpool of colors before you were yanked up and out of the fever dream.

Tenko was humming some sort of hymn, his deep timber almost soothing despite his violent manner of dragging you towards a small in-ground pool.

A baptism pool, with steps leading into the shallow water with a metal railing for assistance, likely for the elderly.

Your vision seemed to jump back and forth between the water being a dark blue and bloody red, unintentionally jerking in Tenko’s hold.

He seems to misinterpret it, “It’s okay lamb, I’ll be baptizing you tonight, washing the sins of the outside world which tainted you away.” You want to bark at his delusional little speech, to roll your eyes or do something, but you’re silent like a doll in his hold. Weak. Pathetic. Worthless. Powerless.

He lets you drop, in favor of scooping you up bridal style in his arms, your filthy sorry figure truly in need of a bath you’ve been denied thus far.

He’s not the least bit repulsed, seeming even thrilled to hold you close as he smiles his pearly white canines at you.

“Look at you, being so good for me. I almost want to reward you,” he chuckles, face calm and even as he takes you both fully clothed into the shockingly cold water.

He doesn’t even flinch.

You’re unable to do much else but gasp, curling into Tenko’s warm chest as chills immediately wrack your body.

Once he’s about waist deep, he extends his arms and lets your feet sink down, one hand spread between your shoulder blades and keeping you up.

Those red hued eyes truly seemed to manifest evil, the dim lighting not dampening the color’s vibrance. He looks like a malevolent angel.

“Are you ready? You’ll need to hold your breath for just a little while I recite the passage.”

Something inside is trying to worm itself out past your lips, begging you to speak up, move away, not trust him.

You can’t seem to remember exactly why as you nod numbly.

Until his free hand raises up, pressed against your chest just under your collarbone and caging your upper body between his hands.

His smile is almost serene.

Then you’re submerged, just barely enough time to hold your breath while the chilling liquid around you wakes you.

Your eyes blink open despite the chlorine burning them, seeing him through a strange mirage now, lips moving and canted up.

Your chest starts to hurt after ten seconds. Then it’s a somewhat urgent need after twenty.

At thirty your instincts take hold and you struggle, air being pushed out meanly by his hand as he applies pressure to still you.

It’s impossible though, you need to breathe. You need it with urgency as your feet kick out, arms coming up to fight and remove his grip, but he just keeps you under. The adrenaline wins though, finally pushing him roughly so you can come up for greedy gulps of air, choking and sputtering while the rooms spins and nausea grips you.

“You didn’t even last a minute lamb,” he remarks offhandedly, and your near drowning reminds you why he is to be feared like death itself because his next move is to grip your throat, the other tangling back in your hair while he smiles down at you, face cinching unnaturally tight as he leans over your panting trembling figure.

“How about this? If you can last a minute, we’ll stop.”

Liar, your heart and mind roar with passion, but your survival instincts demand you do so because it meant life or death.

He doesn’t prepare you this time, sinking you under while his laugh filters through the water into a muddled tune as you fail to even last thirty seconds this time, clawing and biting like a wounded animal as your vision begins to go dark and lungs threaten to shut down.

He yanks you back up, just enough time to gather in air before you’re plunged again, vision beginning to fade as those horrid shadow creatures emerge, almost playfully as you dance around suffocation.

Your mind is playing tricks, these devils aren’t real, not when the one above you is flesh and bone attempting to end your miserable existence.

You’re dragged to the surface again, fighting for freedom from the death grip which holds you in the water as you lash out, a war cry almost deafening to your own sensitive ears.

It’s impossible to tell how long it goes on, your will for survival being challenged by a soul deep exhaustion, finger nails soaked in blood from scratching at his arms and even his bared skin around his throat and chest.

He’s content to watch the inevitable. The moment when your mind releases the concoction of chemicals to ease your death peacefully, because it could fight no longer as he repeatedly drowns you.

His eyes gleam with wicked joy, pupils enlarged as he pushes you beneath the water again, you’re thrashing so much more futile despite how you still struggled. You still wanted to live.

It’s inevitable though, when your vision goes dark, creeping in at the edges and swallowing your sight hole as a painless numbness washes over you.

You begin to hear again first. Strange warbled noises and hissing. Your foggy mind is content to drift, light as you feel rested and freed from the confines of agony which plagued you like a disease so long.

It sounds pained, the noises, the strange squelching and smacking not connecting as you languidly listen and try to decipher what was occurring around you.

Your vision returns next. Slowly, as if not to frighten you, your eyes begin to take in more and more light. Faded blurry shapes and colors becoming clarified into a full picture you could actually make out.

You were on the ground, this floor tiled like you’d see around a public pool. Face resting down as you looked at a familiar baptism pool which began filling your mind with dread.

The water was rippling, your eyes noting that the room was rocking.

Feeling came back last. You felt the chilly air slowly prick at your wet skin and hair, teeth sensitive as you felt your body rock, pressure and numbness beginning to fade into true feeling. Your hand was out stretched and dipped into the water, as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully pull you out, the cool liquid somewhat refreshing as your skin felt hot and feverish.

A blooming white hot pain in your rear caught your full attention though, body too weak to even manage words as you lay limp on the ground, realization dawning as full frontal clarity strikes you like a branding iron.

“Awake?” He muses, hand moving to press your face back down when you attempted to lift your head, not bothering to lessen his crushing weight as you choke and heave. Your eyes can only widen further, looking up at the mirrors which acted as a backdrop to the the pool to see your body and not recognize it. Not recognize you. As if this was all happening to another as he grunts, the hot iron rod which continued its path inside your taunt previously unused sphincter as you groan low in your throat like a wounded animal. Your own native language foreign in your mind as it goes blank to only focus on the mirrors.

His pretty face screwed up in pleasure, his tongue nearly hanging out his mouth as he pants and works his hips against you, more of a struggle to fully sheath himself inside your bleeding rectum due to the lack of preparation he’d done. The stretched ring of muscle inflamed as he lets a drop of spit hit just above it and slide around his cock as he grips your hips.

“You have such a tight little ass—fuck—,” his head drops, hair falling into his face as he watches you take him, pulling out occasionally to see how wide he’s left your abused asshole.

“—p-please—,” you brokenly whimper the words, still unable to fathom why this all was happening. What did you do?

It didn’t matter, not when his thrusts were getting rougher, thick cock spearing you and nearly tearing you open as he grunts and moans above you.

“Keep begging lamb, I want to hear it,” he chuckles, and your vision becomes blurred with tears you can’t even wipe away. Too tired and hurt. You wanted to sleep again.

He doesn’t like your unresponsiveness though, bucking hard and digging his knees into the ground to scoot you up.

You shriek as he pushes your torso back into the water, hand tangled in your hair as he cackles now, deranged expression lighting up at the break in your stoic facade.

“I-I’m sorry—!” Your voice is broken and raspy as you cry out, hands trying to keep him from pushing your head back into the water as his cock begins slamming inside you aggressively.

Blood, spit, and his earlier load he’d jerked and shot over your unconscious figure frothed at the base of his cock as he sinks inside you.

“Start begging lamb!” He moans as you tighten in fear and panic, senseless babbling too quick and jumbled for him to truly appreciate.

“Tsk, that’s not how you beg—fucking idiot,” he sighs, ruthless as he shoves you beneath the water again. Enjoying your futile struggle as your hips jerk and work his cock with delicious friction inside your rigid hot walls.

“Fuck yes, tighten your ass slut, that’s it!” He’s close just from watching you struggle.

Your eyes are open, staring at the bottom of the pool as he abuses your hole above the surface, oxygen deprived and delirious until he yanks your head up.

He moans loudly when you cough and sputter water out, the suction of your walls driving him wild as his thrusts become more jerky and uneven.

“O-oh God please—!” You can only sob for mercy, praying to be saved from the purgatory that is Tenko Shigaraki.

“Yes—! Pray to me baby, because I. Am. Your. Fucking. God.” He growls and punctuates each word with a merciless thrust, pushing you under one last time as he grinds his groin against your soft rear and pumps his load deep inside.

Bleary eyes blink open to dim lighting, seeing a familiar cell from the position of the metal bed.

Your head ached like it might split open any second, but your soul felt the most damaged.

You could only whimper and whine as you sat your stiffened body up, muscles screaming in protest as you stood before collapsing to the ground below.

It was a miserable reality as you dragged yourself over to the little toilet in the corner, attempting to relieve yourself but only finding the water saturated with murky red and clots.

The little sink difficult to use as a wash station, as you cup the icy water, for once grateful for it, and let it wash down your battered form.

It took what seemed like forever to clean away the evidence of him, but as you looked around, you realized blandly there were no clothes for you anymore.

What you’d worn to the… baptism, had been stripped in your unconscious state. He didn’t seem to feel like returning the tattered rags.

You crossed the room, laying beneath the metal bed now, content with just sitting with the low hum of aches inside and out of you. Curled on your side, you sit and watch the door in the dim orange glow of the lights.

They turned off the white fluorescents, which meant the noise would come soon.

It did, not long after that thought, the wailing siren began as you numbly looked ahead, no longer flinching at the noise.

Hours seemed to pass before your food arrived, which you crawled towards, content with eating on your stomach as you rested.

It was the familiar squeak which granted your friend the favor of seeing your face.

Your little mouse came just on time for… whatever meal this was. You hardly paid mind to it, throwing a few generous crumbs for your mouse like a gracious host.

“You should feel honored mouse, this is the finest bread they serve here.” Your giggle is slurred as you bite into the stale bread, mouth dry and the baked good only acting as sandpaper.

You finished it all though. Your mouse not one to be beat either, leaving no trace of the crumbs you’d left for it.

You smiled, content to watch it skitter about, before it curiously moved closer to you.

Then a little closer.

Then it was sniffing your finger, flinching back at first when you lift it, but coming back anyway as you softly pat its tiny head with the tip of your pointer.

“Am I all you got down here…?” You imagine those beady little eyes filled with intelligence and understanding.

“That’s okay. We can stick together.” It’s whispered like a sworn secret.

You let your eyes fall closed, trusting mouse not to attempt to nibble on you while you slept.

You awoke with a jolt, heart beating wildly in your chest as shadows rampaged around the room, the sound of the siren wailing as you try and scramble away from the chaos.

They were everywhere, trying to grab you, actually grabbing you, your scream of fright falling on empty halls as you struggle with your sanity.

Your legs kick out, arms thrashing as you attempt to fight off these morphing demons, hazy mind fighting for some sense of reason despite the madness.

A clawed hand reached at you from below, your palm instinctively coming down to smack it away in your panic.

The siren ends, and with it, the shadows seem to disperse as you pant and try to catch your breath, dizziness and fatigue weighing on you as your fingers rub together and feel something… stinky.

Your heart stops. The world seems to as well.

“Mouse…?”

It’s not real. Yet the little brown clump of fur and dark blood and guts could only be the dead body of your tiny friend.

“Mouse— I-I didn’t mean it— wait, why?!” Your shriek echoes, blood on your hand streaking your cheek now as you wail in anguish, careful to lift up the mangled corpse you’d crushed.

You did this. You hurt it. It was your fault.

It felt like you were being shattered. Screaming until you couldn’t anymore, coughing up blood from your raw and abused throat, clinging to your cooling friend as time became irrelevant.

Food came and went. You didn’t touch it. You didn’t know how many trays were given and taken away without a single piece touched, but it finally summoned him.

Heavy boots were your first clue, eyes still following shadows of little mice dancing around you.

The door opening changed the direction of your gaze as Tenko stepped inside, face impassive this time as he looks at you.

His presence invokes the tears which bubble and spill down your cheeks, quick to crawl on your knees to him like he was your last salvation.

“Please—,” your lower lip wobbled as your scratchy small voice broke the silence. “She’s hurt… I hurt her… please…” and he watched.

Watched the lovely little angel he adored lose her wings and fall to the depths of hell where he ruled.

“Shh… it’s okay, I’m here. Let me see,” he crouches down, smile soft and soothing to your frayed nerves, one hand moving to tuck a matted and tangled chunk of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t seem the least bit repulsed by the decomposing mouse corpse you held. Eyes focused and attentive on you, as you cried and confessed the sin of murder to him.

Like he was your God.

He wrapped you up in his arms, carrying you out as you sobbed weakly for mercy and forgiveness… for the little mouse and for your crime of harming it.

Your face buried in his neck, breathing in the scent of bleach and chemicals like it was fresh air.

You were curled up in a ball, rocking yourself comfortingly as you trembled in fear before hallucinations so real you weren’t able to differentiate anymore. Shadow monsters haunting you at every second except when he was around, trying to crawl into your mind and destroy you completely.

Your hands ran through your hair, clean now as Master had been returning nearly everyday to bathe you with him.

He should be back soon.

You glance at the bed and clean living space, somehow so foreign and alien that you feel terrified of even laying on it without him.

You hum a familiar hymn, counting the seconds until these demons are cast out in his presence.

Your soft skin is naked and bare, but the room is warm despite phantom goosebumps raising.

The door opens, boots muted on the fluffy carpet, strolling towards you with ease and grace as you unfurl and crawl towards him.

“Little lamb, did you miss me?” His cherry red eyes sparkling with amusement and mischief, glossy white hair swept back save a few strays which framed his face.

Your smile is genuine as you nod, “Welcome back Master.”

He watches you with immense satisfaction, your skin and hair healthier now that you’ve been rehabilitated and given proper nutrition and care.

You sit perfectly still, nude body on display for thousands of eyes. The solemn atmosphere disallows for embarrassment as Master speaks, voice carrying his message and voice of God for the people.

“With this sacrifice, let our sins be washed in blood!” his arms spread wide, the cheer of the church deafening yet you move not a single muscle.

You don’t watch, even as the muffled screams become gurgled sounds of drowning.

The sacrifice had to be a damned sinner, one Master deemed better off sent to Heaven early. Dying for the church like this meant even though they were unclean, they could still find salvation through their death. It wasn’t anything new, even as a child you’d witnessed such things.

You cease useless thoughts, eyes trained on him.

He caught your gaze, eyes crinkling as he grins before winking.

They smear the freshly spilled blood over you, hooded masked members wordlessly carrying out the ritual.

“Now the blood of a virgin needs to be spilled…” he murmurs for heads to bow, prayer beginning but you don’t close your eyes, staring out blankly as iron burns your nostrils.

Your skin painted with the blood of a sinner, laid dead on another alter, which you let yourself skip from staring at.

The prayer finishes as Master rises, turning his attention on you as he walks your way. His clothing is all white, current appearance similar to a saint as he approaches.

“Little lamb,” he smoothes a hand through your soft hair with affection, bright red eyes nearly glowing as he leans close, undeterred by the blood coating your cheeks, lips, forehead, and major portions of your body. “Are you ready to be slaughtered?”

A chant in the crowd begins. Hummed at first, building in volume, the words ominous. “Lamb for slaughter.”

You briefly wonder if you’re next, just like the man they’d gutted next to you.

You nod anyway. It hardly mattered whatever he chose to do with you.

Your eyes still widened in surprise as he pushed you gently to lay back on the alter, as he climbed up as well before his people watching with heated gazes.

Master grins, looking sinister and beautiful as he licks his lips and addresses the masses.

“I shall now make the virgin bleed,” you don’t question him as he easily spreads your thighs open, leaving your slit on full view for the crowd and his own eyes.

“Be good for me lamb, I know you can do it,” these words are hushed and spoken just for you, as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. The action is soothing, and you allow your muscles to relax as you watch the crowd with a mixture of emotion.

Were they real or shadows?

You jolt as you feel something hot and wet prod your vaginal entrance, looking down to see Master had freed his heavy thick cock, erect and leaking from the dark red tip as he pumps it with his free hand a few times.

Then he lets the soft warm tip slip through your folds, parting them to press.

It takes immense force that leaves your chest heaving for air as your finger nails chip and break on the marble alter, body wracked with the intense desire to cringe and pull away.

You stay still, as he grunts pushing into your dry walls, essentially digging his cock inside your cunt to burrow deep.

You’re hardly breathing anymore, face frozen in agony as he stuffed you with each searing inch as you grit your teeth and endured.

The chanting was muted by the muddled noise in your head, like water in your ears, as tears slid down your cheeks.

He pulls out completely once his tip kisses your cervix. His cock coated in a sheen of your blood, though whether it was actually your hymen or the tearing of your vaginal walls was not important. It was the symbolism.

He lets his people take in the sight of you both, feeling pride swell inside him as they grow wild with excitement, moving to close in around you both now. The elders stayed back, their robes and masks in place as they continued the chant while the younger and common members touched and groped your trembling body, smearing the blood and even moving it down to your slit where you jerked a little.

“Be gentle with my lamb, tonight, I make her my wife on this auspicious occasion.” His teeth are sharp and glaring as he smiles, your eyes watching as if behind a screen.

What day was it? You wondered oddly, curious why you couldn’t recall it at all.

Master begins disrobing, shamelessly revealing each inch of his lean muscular build for all eyes as he falls on you again, this time caging your view in to only see him.

Your eyes connect, his alight with joy. “Keep your eyes on me while I fuck you stupid tonight.” He whispers in your ear, too low for anyone else to pick up on, using the position to lick the shell of it as you moan at the strange sensation.

He uses one arm to stay propped above you, letting the other move towards the hooded hard nub just above your slit, pressing softly and rubbing circles as electric shocks of pleasure zap up your spine. Your toes cramp as you try to straighten, but his hips smashing against you ass he sinks into you again stop your movements.

Your eyes widen in shock.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

It’s strange, the fullness still heavy and different, but the sting and ache are gone as he uses the blood of that scapegoat as lube to fuck your pretty cunt.

Tenko laughs as your eyes glaze over, face already showing the euphoria as he works your clit and his cock slowly into you, taking his time this round without the necessity of injuring you.

His gaze even gentle as he almost lovingly fucks you, the terrified expression on your face amusing at the very least for him.

“Relax lamb, we got the pain out of the way, just keep your legs spread for me and I’ll do all the work.” He assures, and like always, you fall for it.

He works you both to climax quickly, chuckling as you clamp and seize around his cock helplessly.

Your hands gripping at his shoulders as he leans down to kiss you, slipping his tongue in your mouth for a filthy kiss that leaves you light headed and pliant as he hardens again inside you.

You glance down wearily, his hips grinding back into you as his finger works your clit again.

“Let’s feel so good we both want to die.” Those red eyes seal your fate.

“Tenko! Stop breaking your toys, I’m not gonna share mine if you do.” Small childish and chubby hands grip at his own, tugging the toy owned by you from his grasp as he eyes you with disdain not matching a child his age.

“I have to break them.” He rolls his eyes, picking up the disfigured doll he’d “fixed�� given to him by his previous family. The ones before his Master Father Shigaraki took him in.

“Why? That’s stupid.” You retort, obnoxious as you try to hide your dolls as if he even wanted them.

“Because if I don’t break it, then how is it even really mine?”

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

A/N:

I hope you enjoyed this piece! It was very self indulgent if I’m being honest~

[straightouttheslendermansionn]

𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹 𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹!

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓: Il Dottore/The Doctor

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: fem! reader because this is horribly self-indulgent, sadism, dacryphilia, overstimulation, edging, degradation. lots of scary and spicy things. Oh and choking. iykyk.

These are just general nsfw headcanons for my problematic fave <3

He is totally into choking. This is only half a joke, because if he sees that you enjoy it he’ll probably question it for a bit but keep doing it. Or deny you this pleasure. Depends

He likes incorporating his experimental nature into intimate practices. Which means he will absolutely edge you and/or overstimulate you and excuse his actions with his reason being experimentation.

Oh yeah and he most definitely likes the sound and look of you crying and begging. It's a motivator for him.

"It seems you like this, but why are you crying? Cheer up or I'll give you a reason to cry." he coos and wipes a single, shiny tear from your eye, a toothy grin across his face.

How utterly fucking pathetic.

He would commission Sandrone to make new erotic devices to try on you every once in a while, While she hates this idea, Mora is Mora. And he's her superior. Not like she hasn't created instruments of torture for him in the past.

And if you enjoy getting hurt, he won’t shy away, especially if you’ve been disobedient. Though if it’s just you wanting it, rather deserving it, you’ll either have to to do something to make him want to punish you or beg him. No in between.

Use your words, you’re babbling like an idiot. Would you like more marks on your body? Are you addicted to the sweet stinging against your skin?

He grips your thighs/ass while saying the last part. Just… imagine it.

Oh yeah he’s a thigh guy btw. He likes thighs and waists. Especially ones with a bit more squish. More to cut open, more to grip onto.

His weakest spot is his neck. Either go for that or bite down while giving head to earn a chuckle and a quick change of pace (meaning he either starts roughly topping or he starts fucking. This man doesn’t play).

Hell, he'll screw you on an autopsy table. He'll make sure it's nice and clean just for you. With a mirror set up and everything so you can watch as he wrecks you, the way your face looks as he bruises your insides. His gloved fingers in your mouth and your hair a mess as you're tearing up and begging for release.

On that note, he's either almost entirely clothed or not clothed at all. Most of the time it's the former.

But of course, you only get him when he's in a good mood. Obey him and be his obedient little partner if you want your hole fucked good! He can definitely satisfy, but only if you act like a good girl and obey his every whim.

It's really difficult to completely make him hard. It's hard to bring him over the edge and have him begging. He's completely a top, and a really rough one at that. Submission is more attractive to him than being dominated, though he does admire the inner fierceness in his partner when they attempt to top.

He also eats out really well but he almost never does it unless he feels you REALLY deserve it. He personally just doesn't like doing it but will very rarely make an exception.

Aftercare? Never heard of her. If he thinks he has time to spare or if you quite literally can't properly move after that, he'll scoff and then carry you somewhere where you can rest. He might even send for someone to bring you things to eat or to draw up a bath for you. It's rarely ever him though.

While this is true, he does run constant medical tests to ensure that you're nice and healthy. Biweekly blood tests, makes sure you take your required meds and vitamins, all that good stuff. This is the only factor that would, in essence, make him a caretaker dom. But only barely.

Call him Zandik in bed and he will lie you on a dissection table so fuckin fast (he hates it, seriously hates it)

Is very possessive but certainly wouldn't mind sharing you with a certain other harbinger (come on, we all know who).

Just as long as that Regrator bastard remembers who’s in charge.

A/N: The atrocious things I'd let Dottore do to me. The absolute horrendous acts I would let him perform. I am down diabolical for this man. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the content, and stay slutty my friends.

[jayenator565]

My Tanthamore Comfort Fics

We were talking about comfort fics in the Tanthamore discord and I realized I have too many for a normal sized reply, so here's a tumblr post instead. In no particular order i've reread these fics...maybe too many times.

I'm just gonna list em by author cause that's easier. Keep in mind we may have different definitions of the word comfort.

@commanderbuffy

650 ft2 - Ok so like envision these girls have been best friends for forever and they've been secretly pining for ages, no sense of personal space, they can read eachother like books AND they were roommates!

The Tanthamore Affair - This fic has everything, one bed, fake dating, celeb au, the fic that changed the meaning of a certain emoji and all the tropes you could want really

@badlance

We've got to find other ways to make it together - this one line says all you need to know

"It is the greatest irony of Jade Claymore’s life to be a certified genius who is nevertheless in love with an idiot."

@spybrarian

More Than Just Survival - as far as 5+1 fics go this one has me in a CHOKEHOLD

I scream at your chest for as long as I must

one night at the start of the end of the world

@ilovemyships (i think you need an AO3 account to read these gems)

you won't believe it (they think we're lovers)

don't wanna pressure (but friends don't kiss friends)

@acre-of-wheat - Acre's way with words should be studied

Network Connectivity Issues - I have never related to a character more than I relate to this Jade

The Dark

The Bite

@jlmichigan

Out of the Cuirass - one of the first tanthamore fics I ever read actually and I still come back to it every so often

@stbot

lay down your armor (come lie bare with me) - saintbot has a catalogue lemme tell ya but this one for tanthamore is just so heartwarming

@overkill-max

Escaping Fate - the Kit runs away fic that everyone needs

Dil3mma (idk their tumblr right now sorry)

A Sword And A Shield (And Everything In Between)

Deja-Brew - the loveliest coffee shop one shot

Jad3dEt3rnal (idk if they have a tumblr either)

This Daydream is Dangerous - cuddly vampire Jade, need I say more?

ana_chronistic (idk if they have a tumblr either x3)

Oops. I proposed. - fake dating x 100, fake proposal it's like fake dating to the next level and I love the growth of communication and pacing in this.

@barmaid-anon

do what you feel now

you want a good girl that does bad things (to you)

fulfill (an obligation) or keep (an arrangement)

we simply don't have time to unpack why these are comfort fics, we're just going to accept it and keep going.

@thecsquirrel

Sword and Shield - I love this look at what post S1 life could have been like for the gang, revisiting Nockmaar, seeing Galladoorn, getting into the evil Elora storyline with Graydon, spending more time with the Nelwyn and in the Wildwood it's just everything

@wigster07

What a pleasant surprise - a fic of one of my other comfort fics, I know it's like fic-ception in the best way possible. If you liked Tanthamore Affair I have an inkling this will be right up your alley

@isabrella @jade-claymore @allthefakepeople @resurrecho

those rumors they have big teeth - BAND AU need I say more? I don't need to but i'm going to, this fic has everything Kit and Jade in a band, Kit's leather pants, gay-ifying songs, MAMA MIA, totally gay best friends who have basically been dating for years but won't admit to it, Jade gets to be a bit problematic as a treat, inner band fighting, what more can you want?

@swashbucklery

meet you where the spirit meets the bones (tanthamore 90s werewolf au) - its a SERIES of these repressed gay DORKS and they're werewolves, there's such a charming way to how this author writes them I legit can't even with these two gays

@onlyshestandsthere

these walls come tumbling down - look, we don't have time to unpack why there's so many were-related supernatural esque fics on my comfort list and I know this is only 2 chapters in but I can already feel the comfort in all the hurt ok I dont even have to wait I already know i'm gonna be rereading this like monthly

I'm gonna have to stop there even though I know i'm still missing some! If someone asked me what my favorites are we'd be here all day XD

[whereserpentswalk]

They say there was a monster hunter, who had killed countless cryptids and entities, who fell in love with a vampire. They fell in love when they were fighting, but as they rolled around it soon felt as if they were playing, and soon they kissed, and he forgot about her fangs that could have so easily bitten him. And for once he chose not to kill a monster.

And she told him that she could be with him, and be his lover, for as long as he wished. But she reminded him that she was a free being, that she would never be tamed by him, and never made to put down her weapons, and be made to be like a human bride. She would never be able to marry him by any law, never have sex with him or bare his children, never take him as her only lover, or his god as her only god, and when he died her life would still be far from over. And he agreed with his words, but hoped she would change her mind some day on all things.

As as the hunter was still young, he let her hunt with him. She could see and hear better than any human, and knew where her fellow unseelie lurked. She could hypnotize a mothman as he shot at it from the ground, and could track a werewolf in the darkest of nights. And they would run together across city streets in the moonlight, and for a time their love was true. And all the local bars and local artists began to know their names well, and as the cold autumn night winds blew in their hair, they knew eachother at their best. Soon they had an apartment together, and he would brush her hair in the morning light as she slept.

At first they thought they were alike. But as he saw her hunt more, saw her mouth open wide into a mess as fangs and sharp teeth and then fold back to human shape, saw her run naked to chase down a stray goblin, and saw her sexless body naked, with scars from where her humanity was lost, he began to see her as a wild beast he had on a leash. And as she saw all the things he hunted, how willingly he would trust the testimony of humans, and how little he would show ugly things mercy. There were many creatures she had to convince him not to kill, as many as there were creatures she helped him kill, and she too felt she was hold a leash with a wild beast at the other end more and more as time went on and on.

And as he got older and older, and he began getting stranger and stranger freinds. Strange to the vampire at least, to the monster hunter they were very normal. No longer did he know the poor, the students and teachers and programmers and artists. Soon he had freinds who worked in finance, in law, who ran startups, or women who lived like pets in their husband's laps. And suddenly he wanted her to look presentable to them, even if they knew she was a vampire she couldn't be the kind they would be afraid of. Her mouth couldn't open all the way, it had to remain in a human looking state. And she couldn't spread her wings, and she had to move like a human, and dress well around them. And when they ate she couldn't drink blood, she just had to be served mortal food, and state at it as she ate nothing. And he'd pet her little head as he answered so many questions for her.

And as he got older still he began to have richer and richer clients. Fewer people in danger and more and more people looking to get rid of "problematic elements". And more and more did the hunter look at the vampire and realize that he was older now, and she was still young. And he wondered if he should have told her to transform him when he was still young, and make him like her, of the unseelie kind, forever young. Yet he thought he was too late for that, not knowing how much older he still had to grow.

And eventually, as he was older, and his clients ever richer, he told her that he was moving. He didn't ask her. He told her. And it was assumed she'd move with him. And he took her to a town, just outside of the city limits, where you needed a car to leave. And there was nothing to do at night, and no cryptids or entities but her. And there was a big house with a TV. And he would drive into the city to hunt, without her. And she would no longer walk the city streets, free and wild, and she would no longer have freinds outside of him. And she was alone, for the first time in centuries she had nobody.

And once, after they had lived together in that town for years. As he had grown older, he told her that it was time she finally slept with him. He pointed to his body and explained to her that he had needs as a man, and she had duties as his wife, and it was the first time he ever called her his wife. And as she told him no, he pulled down his pants, and began to force her mouth open. And it did open, but he had forgotten how wide it did open, she had made it look human for him for so long, and soon the bottom half of her face had once again shown itself as a mess of sharp fangs and many jaws.

They say she flew back to the city that night. And say that his body still sits in that empty house. Cold and abandoned, stripped of pants, and drained of blood, doomed to be forgotten.

[catiuskaa]

hi katsy poo... thought long and hard about this and came up w absolutely nothing. i had to dig far into my messy notes app to find ideas and these are from all the way back in summer for context ☠️☠️

have you ever been to the beach/pool and seen a cute lifeguard yk? i was thinking maybe skz as lifeguards - this is derived from a lifeguard chan idea my friend and i were talking about <3 (i just thought - jisung giving you a smooch after saving you but playing it off as mouth-to-mouth resuscitation cause he's too shy to admit he's crushing)

excited to see where your mind takes this! cannot wait <33

BABY THAT’S ACTUALLY GENIUS!?

I can actually see it like -excited sounds-

It got me thinking! So I’m turning this into a mix of small blurbs and I'm not apologizing

I'm trying, but they're hot! —lifeguard!skz

To have a baseline, I don't think Meowracha would fit. Like. i just couldn't picture Minho or Felix in this?? (sorry if you were expecting those two!)

But, because of that, they're the besties who —after a thorough session of negotiating, and a large, strained okaaaaaaaaayy from Minho—, agree to go with you to your usual fitness center, which recently opened a swimming pool facility! (and they've hired a certain group of lifeguards... oh wow...)

(got carried out: 2k words)

"This place smells like plastic. And I can't even swim."

You rolled your eyes as Felix snickered, the three of you checking into the new building.

"Minho, there are other things aside from the pool. That's why I even invited you in the first place, like I mentioned the last seven times you started whining about the exact same thing." You let out an exaggerated huff as you smirked, shaking your head sideways.

You separated from your small group as you entered the changing rooms, and quickly put on your dark-coloured swimsuit, your towel resting on your shoulders when you got in the brand new area.

And let me tell you, it was big.

Impressed by the depth of the building, you couldn't see a couple of small-looking kids running around the swimming pool playing tag in loud, childish giggles.

"Careful!" A voice warned, but it startled you, and you jumped in your place, slipping on the wet floor.

Not one of your fanciest of moments, no.

Or so you thought, until your back didn't quite meet the floor, but instead softly crashed against a lean, warm surface.

Knowing Felix would immediately ask you if you were alright and Minho would threaten to let go in less than a second, you looked up at your saviour, and you were welcomed by a handsome rounded face, eyes small because of his heartwarming smile.

Forcing your stumbling legs up, you froze in front of him and stuttered. "T-thank you. Or... I'm sorry. Wasn't paying attention," you managed to let out, followed by a pink dust colouring your cheeks.

fuck, shit, fuck. why did he have to be hot too?!

"Totally fine!" He brushed off nonchalantly, his smile shining enthusiastically, so contagious you couldn't help but grin back.

He called over the member of staff who had warned you, his voice loud to the point were you had to restrain yourself from jumping in your place again when he screamed his name, not wanting to trip another time, and as he smiled at you and walked off to look for the problematic kids or their parents, you could read Changbin on the back of his red and white shirt, the short sleeves letting you see an extensive trail of inked lines that got lost underneath his top and swimming shorts.

what a piece of cake.

Almost in an instant, a slightly younger lifeguard approached you, not quite panting, but really close to doing so. You got flustered, not knowing exactly how to react, and just stared at him while he rested his hands on his waist, looking like he had run several marathons in less than an hour.

"I'm so sorry...! I should've stopped the kids... or warned you sooner..." He sighed, looking quite tired despite it barely being his first week.

"Don't sweat, I'm okay." You shrugged sheepishly. "Rough day?" You smiled, hoping to get one back from him.

He scoffed, amused. You celebrated silently. "More like a rough job... Uh! I mean, no! I love my job...!" You grinned, raising your eyebrows, shocked yet still unable to hold back a sheepish snicker. "Ah, shi... I mean... goddamnit, please don't tell Chan..." he muttered, defeated.

"Oh, wait, Chan?" You blinked, recognizing the nickname. "Wasn't he a trainer in the gym?"

Catching his breath, now looking less stressed, he nodded, hands still on his noticeably really slim waist, unlike the other lifeguard, who was shredded.

"He and Hyunjin were swapped around because they had more experience than other candidates for the jobs. They're both great, don't get me wrong. But Hyunjin should really stop flirting with the group of girls from the synchronized swimming class..." he huffed, then blushed. "Oh." His eyes widened, and he stared at the floor almost mortified.

"Right, eh..." You smiled, amused at his slip-ups, biting your lip softly.

Jisung blushed even more at your giggles, trying and failing to hold it back because he couldn't help but ogle at your defined and fit body from all the exercise you did, being a member of the centre for quite some time. You were a stunning stranger whose giggles were cute. Too much for his caffeine-filled, sleep-deprived self.

"Jisung. Soon-to-be-fired, lifeguard Han Jisung." He presented himself with tired eyes, the last part more for himself than for you, then covered his mouth when he realized he had said it too loud. "I shouldn't have said that...!"

You couldn't help but cackle, unable to hold back your laugh as his blush got to an even deeper shade of pink.

"I'm just... going to... eh... Jeongin is... probably looking for me..."

"Jisung-ah, fighting!" You teased, and he couldn't help but blush even more, smiling as he rushed back to his assigned area of the swimming pool building.

You realized Minho and Felix had been eavesdropping when Minho passed an arm over your shoulders and ruffled your hair, making it messy.

"Yeah, welcome back, cheater," he tsked, smirking.

You struggled to get away from his deathly grip, and Felix rolled his eyes, just laughing at you two.

"Oi, isn't that Chan?" the freckled asked, signalling somewhere else.

"I care more about that hottie who ran away a second ago." Minho scoffed, focused on his own priorities, sounding offended by the fact that he hadn't been able to talk to Jisung.

Felix waved at Chan, and happily waddled his way to him, the two already close friends.

While Minho hurried off to the sauna, Felix and you tried out the main swimming pool, at first actually swimming, but ending up just chatting playfully, Chan joining in from time to time, and then he stayed close during his break.

You got out of the pool and sat on the edge when suddenly you felt someone tickle your sides and push you, making you fall into the water.

Swimming to the surface with ease, you moved your wet hair from your eyes, hiding half down of your face under the water, looking at Chan, who was chuckling.

“Really funny, Mr. Bang.” You mumbled, faking boredom.

“It was Felix’s idea, but I gotta admit that was funny.” He kept on laughing, and that alone was cute, but because he was on a break, to avoid being called over to work, he had taken his shirt off, not feeling cold in the acclimatized environment.

And the image just looked ten times better.

“Reeeally funny.” You were nodding, as if in deep thought. “Help me out?” You smiled innocently, raising one hand towards him.

He grabbed it, but before he could pull you up, you pulled down, his body falling over yours and staying tightly against you for a second, then you smiled under the water and started laughing as soon as you both got back to the surface.

He was blushing, but also smiling cheekily.

“Fair. I deserved that.”

After a while of swimming, laughing and splashing each other, you got out of the pool leaving Felix and Chan on their own, but felt a soft sting in the back of your thigh. Probably from when you were sitting and Chan pushed you to the water, the slight bumps on the stone might've scratched your skin.

You started looking for your towel, but frowned when it wasn’t where you had left it. From the corner of your eye you saw Minho, and he smiled slyly from afar, your towel resting on his shoulders.

what a bitch.

You ran after him but were quickly stopped by yet another lifeguard.

Really, really lucky you.

You were only able to read Seungmin on the back of his shirt before he turned around and frowned, and you struggled to slow down, ending up bumping onto him.

"I'm sorry, uh, I uh..." you stammered, struggling to find an excuse.

He sighed, and deadpanned at you, in his eyes a hint of mockery that didn't reach his face, and it made you even more flustered. He pointed to a sign on the wall, who said in a big, bold font, "do not run near the pool."

"You probably can swim, but can you read, dollface?"

d-dollface?

“Y-yeah, of course I can. I forgot.” You pouted.

He smirked slightly. “You forgot how to read?”

You frowned softly at the tease, and he brushed it off with one hand.

“Where were you going that was so important for you to be running?” He questioned, the sly smirk lingering on his lips, the mockery still there.

“I wanted to go to the infirmary but my friend took my towel.” You defended yourself, but a blush crept from underneath, making your cheeks pink.

The moment you said infirmary, Seungmin’s entire body language changed. The mockery wasn’t gone, but covered by a layer of innocent worry. Cute.

“To the infirmary? Why? Did something happened?” He asked softly, and it surprised you how fast his attitude had changed.

“I just scratched myself. It’s probably nothing…”

He shook his head and smiled, almost tender. “Nonsense. Can I have a look at it?”

You blushed slightly and turned so he could look at the small scratch in the back of your thigh. The area was red, and there was small even more red lines in it, but nothing too wild.

Seungmin cleared his throat. Stay focused.

“You should still put something on it. I’ll do it. Come with me.”

Crossing from where you were with Seungmin you passed by the kids’ swimming pool, and waved at Han, and who you thought was who he had mentioned, Jeongin, struggling to take care of the kids as they all ran around, fighting with the swimming noodles as they used those like swords, and you couldn’t help but smile at the mess.

Seungmin took a small radio device from his waistband, like a black walkie-talkie. “Send Changbin to area 3. Jeongin, office, 6pm.”

The youngest-looking of all the lifeguards in the building approached you two when Seungmin told you to wait while he looked for the first-aid kit.

“Hi, as you might’ve heard, my name is Jeongin. Did you get hurt?” He said, so softly you almost cooed at him because he was so cute.

“Um, I scratched the back on my thigh, yeah.” You smiled a bit, and he smiled back reassuringly.

“I hope it doesn’t sting a lot.” He added kindly, picking up his stuff from a locker. “I would stay and help you, but I assure you that if you’re in Seungmin’s care you have nothing to worry about.” He nodded, almost to himself. “He teases everyone a lot but he’s a nice guy. I… have to go now, my shift has ended. But it was nice to meet you!”

You bid him goodbye, and Seungmin came back in no time, carrying a small bag of medical supplies and a towel. He left it on the side, and opened the bag next to you, taking a small glass bottle of spray from it.

“Could you stand and turn around, please?” He asked formally.

You couldn’t help but blush when he sprayed the medicine, the slight sting making you gasp softly, but it was more because of the position you two were in, and because he held a cotton pad underneath the scratch, brushing your thigh with his hand.

Being outside of the water for so long now, you started feeling cold, shivering softly.

“Darling, can you pass me the towel?”

You blushed almost furiosly at the nickname and did as told, and he opened it and hung it on your shoulders, as you quickly took it and tightened it around you.

“Sorry, I didn’t give it to you before.” He smiled, throwing the cotton away and going back to put the first-aid kit in its place.

It was almost 7pm when the three of you got out of the changing rooms.

“That was really fun!” Felix smiled brightly.

“It was decent. Still couldn’t talk to that cutie back there. We should come back other time.” Minho stated, sounding like an order.

You blushed, thinking about what had happened in so little time.

“Yeah. We should come back soon.”

(teehee, i enjoyed this a lot! Hope you like it too! Thanks a lot, ren! <;333)

~Kats, who now would love to go to that swimming pool!

[spiritedscorpio]

Mine - Osamu Dazai

Warnings: Mentioning of murder, blood, knife play, possessiveness, degradation, breeding.

Despite his flirtatious nature, Dazai actually didn’t have a serious partner until you. He was fairly afraid of rejection so it took a while for him to actually ask you out but when he did, you instantly agreed. Even though you had known each other for over 5 years, your relationship hadn’t changed drastically until last year. He recruited you because of your mind reading ability and because of it you often got called to investigate cases along with him and Ranpo. With your mind reading ability, Ranpo’s deduction skills, and Dazai’s smarts and connections, the three of you were unstoppable.

The current case you were investigating was regarding a series of murders. All the victims had short black hair and were in their late 40s to early 50s. Ranpo soon deducted that these acts were somewhat out of revenge and the killer had some tragic family issues. Soon you were able to find the culprit based on the locations of the murders. He was a young man, no older than 25. Despite his identity just being revealed to the three of you, he had a terrible reputation on the news; everyone was calling him a monster and saying they wished he would just disappear. Dazai and Ranpo examined the most recent body while you kept an eye on the culprit. He was kneeling on the ground and mumbling barely audible sentences. “Monster... I’m not a monster...”

He was shaking and gripping at his hair before he grabbed onto your ankles. “You! You don’t think I’m a monster to do you? I swear... I...” he was choking on his sobs.

Like the majority of the members in the Detective agency, you came from a problematic family so you understood him. You kneeled down to his level. “You’re not a monster” You placed a hand in his shoulder. “You’re just hurting and you’ll get the help you need soon" Your smile and tone was genuine.

By now Dazai was watching your interaction. The way you treated an "evil" and broken man with such kindness reminded him too much of how you were when he met you. You both worked for the Port Mafia previously so you learned of all his crimes and occasionally worked together. He came off as pretty odd but the more you worked together, you noticed his humor was somewhat of a coping mechanism-- it was something you had in common. Regardless of his reputation or the things he had done, you always treated him with a kindness that no one ever had before and felt he didn't deserve. The current situation was too familiar and he couldn't allow it. You were one of the few people he had been vulnerable with and something inside him simply couldn't let anyone else get the same treatment you gave him. As per usual, he didn't say what he was really thinking and just interrupted your conversation while wearing a fake cheery smile. "It truly is an unfortunate situation you were in and while I understand your motives..." He swiftly moved behind the culprit to handcuff him. "That doesn't excuse your actions"

"Ranpo, you take him in, y/n and I are going to check out the other crime scenes. He agreed since it meant he would be able to avoid doing paper work for longer. You and Dazai got in his car and drove to what you thought was the crime scene but when you looked out the window, you saw your apartment. "What are we doing here?"

"Oh there's just a few things I forgot earlier, mind giving me a hand?" His tone and smile convinced you.

You agreed and went inside with him, not suspecting anything. He walked in after you and silently locked the door. You turned to face him. "Where is the stuff you need?"

"It should be in the bedroom" he said and you quickly headed there leaving him smiling; admiring how naïve you could be.

While you were looking through a box in the closet he entered the room and leaned against a wall. "Y/n do you love me?" he asked abruptly.

"What? Of course I do"

"Interesting... Then why were you giving that man earlier the time of day?"

"I..." you tried to protest but he didn't give you the chance.

"Do you need attention from every man around you? If not I don't see why you'd treat scum like him that well." He had you backed up against the wall, cowering before him, flustered, and unable to speak.

"That's it isn't it? You're an attention whore" He let out a chuckle. "I'm afraid that won't work because... He tilted your head up so you were making direct eye contact with him.

"You're mine"

He smashed his lips onto yours, exploring your mouth when you gasped at the sudden action. There was a certain unfamiliar feeling of anger in the kiss. "Get on your knees" he commanded once you parted.

You unbuckled his pants and pulled both them and his boxers down. There was no time for you to do anything on your own before he gripped your hair and forced his cock into your mouth. You took sharp inhales through you nose as he pushed your head down the entirety of his cock, leaving your nose brushing against his abdomen. "T-that's right, put that slutty mouth of yours to good use" He tried to suppress his noises of pleasure to seem more dominant but you still noticed how his voice slightly wavered. His grip on your hair tightened, allowing him to thrust into your throat, using it for his own pleasure. Words of degradation fell from his lips as he went on about how this is what you were made for. You couldn’t deny the fact that you were really turned on as you brought one of your hands into your pants and rubbed circles over your clothed clit.

He let out another chuckle, “Are you really getting off on this? Getting off on being my little fucktoy? How pathetic”

“Anyways stop that, if you’re going to get off, it’s going to be because of me". You whined in response but obeyed, placing your hands on his thighs to prevent you from touching yourself. As he used your throat you let out whimpers and moans that were muffled by his cock but still brought him closer to his release.

"You're gonna swallow for me okay?" It sounded like a suggestion although you both knew he wasn't giving you a choice. After a few more thrusts, he came with a loud groan and you swallowed, using the back of your thumb to catch anything that spilled out. He told you to get on the bed after removing your clothes, leaving you completely nude.

You started to feel self-conscious and crossed your limbs to hide your body. “Don’t get all shy on me now” He nudged your legs open with his knees and attached his lips to your neck. He used the sound of your moans to find your sweet spot and focused his attention on it. After decorating your neck with hickeys, he sank his teeth into the same spot, drawing a little blood. You let out a gasp from the sudden action but soon enjoyed the mixture of pain and pleasure as he licked over the bite mark. His hand travelled down to your cunt and found that you were soaking. “My, aren’t you enjoying this. You’re enjoying me marking what’s mine?”

He didn’t even wait for your response before trailing his lips down to your breasts, nibbling and sucking on the tender skin. Soft moans left your mouth as his mouth sucked on one of your nipples and his fingers fiddled with the other. He finally made his way to your thighs but before he did anything, he removed the clothing on his upper body revealing the full glory of his naked form. When he returned to your thighs, you thought he would tend to your aching cunt but instead you were greeted by a cool metal feeling on your left inner thigh.

“W-what are you doing?” He didn’t respond and instead continued what he was doing. You focused on the movements the blade made and you realized it was his name. He wrote his name, on your thigh. A place where no one would see it but you both would know it’s there. You shouldn’t have found it that hot. He collected the few drops of blood on his tongue before embellishing the word with a few hickeys. He roughly propped you up against the wall and slid into you easily due to your arousal. No time was given for you to adjust to his size before he began thrusting into you, already moving at a fast pace. His grip on your hips was tight and likely guaranteed a mark being left to add to the collection of markings.

The grimace on your face when he first entered you had been washed away with no traces. "Well look at that! All of a sudden you're taking my cock so well, but I bet I'm not the only one you'd spread your slutty legs for huh?" You couldn't form a full sentence so you shook your head furiously. His right hand snaked up your body and his fingers wrapped around your neck. "You have a voice, correct? Then use it"

"N-No" you choked out.

His fingers tightened around your neck, applying pressure to it but still allowing you to breathe. Your noises began to sound weak and strained as an uncanny grin spread on the brunettes face. "No, I-I'm yours, only yours" you said between moans.

His hand released your neck and returned to your hip. Your body was spared no mercy and with the way it was being treated so roughly, tears began to fill your eyes. Dazai would be a liar to say he wasn't enjoying your reactions. Despite how much he may be bothered by you paying a lot of attention to others or men being overly attentive around you, none of them would get to see you like this or be this close to you. Only he could make you feel this good. After a few more thrusts, he felt your walls clench around him. He gave you a certain look and you immediately knew what he wanted from you. "Please..." You said, your voice breathy. "Let me cum"

A slight smirk spread across his face. "Fine" he spat. "If you're that needy" As if on cue you came seconds later, your back arching against the wall. Once you came down from your high, the sensations began to feel overstimulating yet his pace didn’t slow down. In fact he seemed to speed up his movements, clearly enjoying the way you whimpered and squirmed beneath him. Tears continued to fill your eyes and run down your cheeks but that didn't make him spare your body any mercy, instead he just kissed your tears away before pulling you into a kiss, muffling each others noises. He soon reached his own orgasm however he pulled out first, spilling his cum on your lower stomach. You were soon moved onto your back and he threw both of your legs onto his shoulders, allowing him to reach the deepest parts of you. His cock and hands worked to make you come undone, your inner sweet spots all being hit as your nipples were stimulated with his talented fingers. The room was filled with your high pitched whimpers and his low groans, both increasing in volume as you grew closer to your next release. His fingers travelled down your body and to your clit where he drew small circles, surprisingly bringing you to your next release rather quickly. Memories of you and that guy earlier filled his mind and his nails dug into your sides, he was still fairly angry however he still felt his release nearing. “You’re mine, got that?” he said, his aura completely changed.

You nodded in response even though you didn’t completely hear him and didn’t really care what he said, you were willing to do anything to keep him from stopping.

“And I’m gonna breed this greedy little cunt of yours“ He felt you shudder under him and pulsate around his cock. “You like that idea, hm? Should I indulge you in your naughty desires?” He continued however by this point he was having a conversation with himself and was going off of your body’s reactions.

As he continued to thrust into you, his name and moans left your lips, fueling his actions. “Yeah... I’m gonna fuck a baby into you” he huffed out, wrapping his arms around your thighs. After a few thrusts, he filled you with his final load, groaning loudly. When he pulled out, he stopped to watch the way his cum dripped out of you before laying down next to you. Once your breathing settled you finally spoke up.

“You know that I know what you’re thinking right?” You looked up at the brunette.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“You were worrying about that guy” You rested your forearms on his abdomen but he averted your gaze.

“See, I’m right!”

“So what if you are?” He said, trying to defend his ego.

“So, you’re worrying about nothing, you know how empathetic I am and besides I only love you” After pressing a kiss to his lips he still seemed bothered causing you to pout. You finally got a smile out of him after peppering his face with kisses. “Geez, I love you too”

“So, are we going back to the agency?”

“I don’t wanna” he complained, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.

“Fine but you’re coming up with a good excuse, Kunikida’s gonna be mad”

“Deal” he smiled, settling in bed with you in his arms.

[starshower1215]

Thoughts on Hange's Loss of Passion [Pt. 1: Short Analysis]

In season 1-3, Hange Zoë is always shown to be ecstatic to study the world around them. Then when they learn the truth, they seem almost to lose their passion for learning.

Now, to put this into perspective with a little astronomy lesson, which I believe to be factually accurate. There was this exoplanet discovered in 2004, called Dagon, or Fomalhaut B. It was thought to have orbited the star Fomalhaut, and to be about 2 or 3 times as big as our local Jupiter.

Then in 2008 or so, we realized that its mass as, in fact, smaller than we thought— it was maybe that of Earth's or Mars. The thing was that the exoplanet was constantly expanding in size. Dagon was getting bigger and bigger as it was dimming in brightness, which were already strange, but then we realized that it didn't orbit Fomalhaut in the patterns that we were used to. It was unlike anything we had seen.

It kept dimming and getting chubbier for years and years until in 2014— it disappeared completely.

Did it ever really exist?

This sudden change in perspective is barely what Hange felt. Everything we studied was offset by this tiny little change. Everything they studied— in the grand scheme of things, what was it for? One of the biggest pillars of the Survey Corps was the sense of purpose. In the grand scheme of the story, Hange was barely studying anything. Their entire world was turned upside down.

Now if it were revealed that indeed Dagon never existed as an exoplanet... it didn't. This was no great scientific discovery, it was merely a series of coincidences which led us to believe that Dragon, the dust cloud formed by a collision of two extraterrestrial objects, was something extraordinary, something that would have redefined our entire sense of existence.

Kind of disappointing?

Now, this is not mirrored exactly in Hange's story, but it carries the same aspects: We are held in suspense (ish, I'm not good at creating suspense), given the climax of a discovery, and then realizing the discovery was a huge disappointment. Not even a disappointment— a life endangering conclusion.

Hange was so used to trying to understand others, to understand the world, to trying to show empathy through their studies, that when roles were swapped and it was the world's turn to understand Hange and they didn't, didn't even try... it's actually really, really heartbreaking. It's like a relationship where you give and give and give, and the other person does not meet you halfway. It's so discouraging, and technically, what is the healthy thing to do, if talking doesn't work? Well, it is to leave the relationship.

Their need to "leave the relationship" is somewhat represented by their loss of passion to learn about the world, or in the relationship context, the general distancing or loss of interest. You stop seeking the other person, seeing if they're all right, you start putting off their messages, all that jazz.

The only thing that really made this work out was how Hange upheld their previous blind faith. Hange is similar to Erwin because they both gamble and stake the odds on slim chances of hope. This seems clear in Hange's death. There is a chance it will be for nothing, but the fact that it could be for something is enough for them. It is inevitable, though, that regret crossed their mind at least once when it came to their studying. Even if they themselves do not regret their decisions, they can't deny to themselves the "What if?" and the fact that things would still be problematic on a small, safer, more familiar scale if they had just kept quiet.

Part 2 here.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for still having an eating disorder? Bare with me here.

I (18nb) have a history of having a lot of problematic views. I used to be very against most of the LGBTQ community, I had some internalized racism (still work on that when I can), and used to be abilist. One of the many things I used to be very problematic towards was fat people. I've worked on it over the years and thought I was mostly over that part of my life.

However, I also have anorexia. I recognize this is an issue and have been working to get over it. Because I've been rather focused on it, I've realized the same reason I have anorexia is because I'm afraid of becoming fat. I feel like the reason I have this disorder is because I haven't actually grown as much as I thought I have. I've tried looking up if my ED is fatphobia but the only stuff I've found are people thinking fatphobia is "woke culture".

I've mentioned offhand I have an eating disorder to my obese friend and he didn't say anything. I'd really like to talk to my obese therapist about my disorder as she has no idea. I'm worried though that I may offend both of them if I ever go in depth about it. I understand my relationship with both wouldn't change but I still don't want to hurt them by being close minded.

So, AITA/fatphobic for still having an eating disorder or am I reading too much into this? I'll read the comments if people could provide a little insight. Thank you. <3

What are these acronyms?

[strawberrystepmom]

!!!!! will you pretty please share more lore around your black clover sona? 🤲🏾

well now that you’ve given me license to yap be aware that i will….you have been warned.

but let me start with the basics about kendall the eldest daughter of house melro, nicknamed the blackbird.

- 11 siblings, two of which are full and the other nine are half. ten of these siblings are girls and the youngest is a boy. lord melro is a serial philanderer, it is what it is.

- mother was clover kingdom nobility, father is diamond kingdom nobility. their marriage was arranged and my mother’s family is wayyyyyy wealthier so it was an easy sell for my dad whose family was minor nobility in diamond. he hasn’t been back to diamond since and doesn’t really care what’s happening there lmao and my dad inherited her fortune and titles when she died when i was 16.

- was once heir to everything, thanks to the rules of my mother’s house that have always allowed an eldest daughter to become head because she was an eldest daughter and had all sisters, but once the youngest and only boy was born my father changed his mind. marrying me off became imperative at that point. he was born when i was 17 and a year out from debuting.

- i received a grimoire at 15 and waffled about my desire to join the magic knights for a bit too long and when my mom died, i decided to stay home and take care of my siblings. all of them. at the time there were 8 of us.

okay and onto the juicy stuff which i will put below a cut for everyone’s sake. this is the master of whispers stuff, etc etc.

- the wizard king attends a classroom session for a group of noble girls to oversee how the magic in the kingdom is developing. my magic is movement based and he found my spell translucent cloak very fascinating because it allows me to remain move completely unseen and undetected for 60 seconds. i can use this ability on up to four other people around me but there is a ten second penalty for each person added meaning if i have four people and myself, we have 10 seconds to move.

- he asks me if i would be interested in joining the magic knights and i told him due to my responsibilities at home, I believe it’s better for me to stay behind. he’s disappointed but understands and a couple years later, he asks me again bc there’s a lot of buzz about my debut which was a whole thing and i decline again bc my father wants me to be married immediately but im like visibly upset so Julius offers a strange alternative - to be his ears. im popular in noble circles, im trusted, people dont suspect a thing about me and he knows my magic is beneficial for subterfuge and diversion if i’d ever need it

- I agree but I’m extremely skeptical about how this will work out. this dude barely knows me, I barely know him and he’s putting a lot of trust in me. it ends up working out splendidly though because i have an ear for the good stuff, naturally, and people open up to me. i dont report anything to him except for things that could potentially be problematic in the future and he’s pleased with my performance

- i am proposed to by a nobleman not long after this begins and i turn it down. my dad is patient with this one and understands to some degree that I want to be at home to take care of the kids which he won’t complain about so he can go be a dick elsewhere. after that, three more come and I turn each of them down because I don’t want to have to choose between men I hardly want to be in the same room with and working for Julius and defending my country in my own way

- by the fourt failed proposal (im 22 when this happens) my dad doesn’t find it cute anymore bc now he has a real heir and he just wants to get me out of the house. he tells me the next one i have to go through with regardless and we fight about it but I ultimately agree but plan to basically scare away any suitors that come. I continue working for Julius as expected and he begins to trust me even further, appointing me his spymaster although it’s not a formal title.

so yeah! it only becomes more useful as time passes and of course this is a very secretive position and nobody knows about it. people have suspected but nobody can prove anything and until I met yami, I intended on keeping it to myself. I told him and he was maaaaaaaad at me and assumed I was spying on him at first but once he confirms everything with Julius he gets over himself

Julius legit tells him “she’s terrible at deception but wonderful at making friends. she’s a natural” and who is he to disagree

[yuripromiser]

Welcome to my blog!

☆﹒ꕀ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚. ☆﹒ꕀ

M'names yojjie

I go by he/she (he/him pref!)

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I reblog mostly fandom stuff and my interests.

I am an artist! but I won't be posting my art very often ^_^“

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My main interests are :

• Gravity Falls

• IHNMAIMS (I have no mouth and I must scream )

• Good Omens

• Hannibal NBC

• House M.D.

• Dungeon meshi

• Puella Madoka Magica

• Early 2000s media/digital web

• Kinitopet

• class of 09

• Frutiger Aero/Metro

• OSC ( object show community)

• EW ( Eddsworld )

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( the interest I'm most active in will be listed at the very top, the least active will be at the bottom!)

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BYF: I'm quite inactive on here from time to time, I only ever use this app to look art and sum funsies. I barely say anything on here but will become a huge yapper when givin a chance ( can and will sometimes rant abt my problems on here so be mindful of that )

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DNI: basic DNI criteria, pro/comship accs , z00s , nsfw , liking problematic things in general

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(that's it for now, will make changes when needed)

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Last updated on: 07/18/2024

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!! HELP FOR THOSE IN NEED IN GAZA !!

↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓

☆﹒ꕀ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚. ☆﹒ꕀ

[folkloristico]

May I return the favor? 🤭 4, 6, 7, 22, 24, and 77 for the writing asks!

Thank you for the ask!

Let’s see…

4. How do you choose which fics to write?

I have a document—sorted by fandoms—where I keep track of all the ideas I come up with so I don’t ever forget them. From there, it’s just a matter of where inspiration leads me; I’ve realised I’m more inclined to write on the spur of the moment than to make plans and stick to them. It’s a bit problematic because I have too many WIPs, so it can take me a long time to finish one, but hey, at least it gets finished… eventually.

6. What’s the last line you wrote?

Under a certain number, all ages kind of blurred together in her mind, and Griffin had not yet stopped to think of the princess as a child; the way Faragonda and the others talked about her did not help to mitigate this image.

7. Post a snippet from a WIP.

Their surroundings shimmered like the faint memory of a dream, and they were in the library once more. Seen like this, in such stark contrast to the crumbling ruins of its truest version, the view left Bloom transfixed; but there was little past the illusion. The borders to the far corners were blurry, and no sound could be detected. The air smelled like nothing at all. Daphne might not be dead after all—but what else was this, if not even worse a fate? “Have you really been staying here alone?” Bloom forced herself to look Daphne in the eyes. “All of this time?” Daphne gave a faint shake of her head. “Not quite. I’m barely aware of what’s happening. I’m… too weak to remain present. I feel the strongest when you’re close by.” “Because of the Dragon Flame?” “Our family’s power, yes.” Bloom faltered, averted her eyes. “Forgive me,” Daphne said swiftly. “I know it must be strange for you.” “No—” Bloom trailed off. A thought occurred to her, and she surveyed the room once more as if it had suddenly changed. “You can’t hear my mind in here—can you?” Daphne gave a laugh. It was a gentle sound, the most alive thing there was about her. “It doesn’t work like that. We share a link, is all. And—I’m a pretty good judge of character, if I may say so myself.” 

Daphne angst + library mentioned <3

And I must say, I’m really enjoying writing Bloom now! 

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

Honestly, I do anything my brain tells me to do. Sometimes I start writing a fic and the title comes to me shortly thereafter; some other time I even build an idea around a title. But other times I’ve changed the name of an already posted story on a whim, because I really can’t make up my mind. If I’m really struggling with the title, I skim through a bunch of lyrics of my favourite songs until something comes up. I think at least ten of my WIPs are named after a Hozier or Florence song.

24. How do you choose whose POV to write in?

The most important thing to me when choosing a POV is asking myself: What am I trying to achieve with this chapter, and which POV would benefit the most?

For instance, I have this canon-divergent WIP from season 2 that focuses on Diaspro and Bloom while they’re being held prisoner by Darkar. Something happens in the first chapter that only Bloom can be a witness of—the Dragon Flame being the reason why. Long story short, she’s ‘trapped’ in her own head—it’s Daphne that helps her break free—so I’m using Diaspro to show what’s happening during the time Bloom isn’t awake. After that, the story becomes more Diaspro-focused, and there would be no reason to switch to Bloom’s POV once more. In another WIP of mine, not Winx related, a character is keeping a secret from the others, and I’ve decided to switch to her only when that secret is revealed. I try to at best have a vague outline before jumping on the writing phase of a longfic, and I quite enjoy the phase where I’m figuring out the best way to mess with the POVs.

If we’re discussing first person vs third person, in fanfiction I will always favour third person over first. I might consider writing in first person if it’s the same POV the book is written in, but generally speaking, I find first-person very off-putting in fanfiction because the characters have a pre-established voice, and it’s quite hard to grasp. However, I disagree with the general sentiment that first person is bad even outside of fanfiction; most of my favourite books ever are written in first person.

77. Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

Because once I get an idea stuck in my mind, I can’t get rid of it unless I write it down. It’s like, I don’t know, setting the silly guys in your head free. I love writing, and fanfiction allows you to do so without the stress of striving for perfection or focusing too much on what other people will think. 

[incendio22]

FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL

Chapter 17: Midnight

Trigger warning: This chapter contains references to mental illness and suicidal thoughts. Stay safe, friends ♡

——————————————————————

It is almost midnight when Ominis and I return to the castle. In hopes of finding Sebastian we head straight to the Undercroft. As suspected he is sitting on the floor with a book in his lap. I have no idea how he manages to read in the awful light, but he seems to enjoy it. When he hears us he quickly stands up.

''How is she?'' He seems tense, but I cannot blame him. I would be too.

''She's doing alright, despite the circumstances.'' I tell him. ''She got a thestral.''

He lets out a sigh of relief.

''I always told her people consider them a bad omen, but she refused to believe it. She always loved them.'' He tells us. ''Did she ask anything about... Me?''

''A bit, of course.'' Ominis tells him. ''But she hasn't changed her mind, if that's what you're really asking.''

''Understood.'' He says and turns away, walking back towards the corner where he was sitting before. ''And the prophecy?''

''It's worse than we expected.'' I say seriously. ''It will come true, unless we stop it. Someone in Ominis' family will give birth to the darkest wizard yet to exist.''

''So it's all a bit... Problematic.'' Ominis says, it almost sounds as if he's holding a laugh back. ''The ironic part is that I'm not even surprised.''

''I'm sorry.'' Sebastian says seriously. ''Let me know if there's anything I can do.''

''Nothing, for now.'' Ominis walks out of the Undercroft.

''He probably needs some time alone.'' I say. ''This journey was exhausting for him. Especially after finding out about... Everything.''

''I bet.'' Sebastian says.

His mood is clearly off. Likely, mine would be too if he were to visit a sibling who didn't want to see me. He sits back down on the ground, pulling his knees to his face and puts his face in his palms.

''How could I be so dumb?!'' He cries out. ''I should have listened to you all. I went too far.''

His cries are echoing slightly in the room. I have never seen him cry before and it hurts me so much. All I want to do is make him feel better, but I don't know how. I sit down next to him, putting my arms around him in silence. I kiss the back of his head and use my robe to wipe the tears from his face.

''I messed up so bad. How can I ever forgive myself?'' His words are barely understandable now that he's crying even more intensely than before.

''You need to find the will to forgive yourself.'' I whisper into his soft hair. ''You have to accept the damage you did and find some peace with yourself, Sebastian.''

He turns around and hugs me. I hold him while he's crying so hard that he's gasping for air. I tell him to breathe deeply with me. Eventually he calms down and stops crying. His eyes are red and puffy and he looks concerned.

''Do you think she'll ever forgive me?'' He asks quietly. He looks ashamed.

''She wants to.'' I tell him. ''She told me she wants to.''

He looks up at me.

''Really?''

I nod and give him a slight smile. It seems to bring him some comfort, knowing that she at least wants to forgive him. I just hope that it will be enough for him to start his own journey on forgiveness.

''You know, this summer when I was all alone... The feelings were eating me up.'' He says quietly. ''It was so bad. I could barely look at myself in the mirror after what I did. I wanted to end it. All of it.''

His words make my stomach twist into a knot. It hurts to hear the words slip out of his mouth, but it hurts me even more knowing he had to deal with those emotions all by himself.

''Oh, Sebastian... I'm so sorry you had to go through that.'' I whisper. ''You're so brave for telling me. You don't have to go through this alone. You have me.''

He squeezes my hand and I squeeze his hand back. Squeezing and kissing his hand has become my way of telling him that I love him without actually using the words. They feel too big, too scary. So I keep them for myself.

I don't know how many hours we spend in the Undercroft. It could be an hour, it could be all night. But I hold him until we fall asleep on the floor. I want to kiss him until I can't breathe, I want to kiss him everywhere to take his pain away. But I know that tonight he needs me as a friend. Even if he doesn't use the word 'friend' to refer to me any longer, I know that it is in that way he needs me tonight. So I hold him in my arms, stroking his hair until he falls asleep, eventually falling asleep myself.

The next day I wake all tangled up in him. Our legs have intertwined and our fingers are twisted together. Even though it's cold in the Undercroft I'm warm due to his body temperature. I roll around, my back is aching from sleeping on the floor, and lie face to face with him. He's still asleep, slightly snoring. He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping and I wish I could make him have that look all the time. I kiss his nose, then his hand. His eyes open slowly, looking drowsy as he pulls me closer. He gives me a cheeky smile, despite just having woken up.

''So this is where I gotta spend the night for an awakening like this?'' His voice is hoarse from sleeping, causing it to sound deeper than usual.

''I suppose so.'' I say whilst moving even closer to him, allowing me to feel his body close.

''I could do this every day.'' He says as he presses his lips on my temple, causing me to feel a rush of heat running through my entire body.

We lie there even longer, backs hurting from the night on the floor, but not wanting to move away from the position we're in. His index finger is tracing my the lines on face, it's almost as if he's trying to fill in the lines. My upper lip tickles as he's tracing it, causing my face to light up in a smile. I kiss his index finger and he stops moving. Holding his finger completely still. He rolls over onto his back and puts his hands on his face.

''You're actually driving me crazy.'' He then says, almost looking embarrassed.

''Let me.'' I tell him daringly.

''You already have, love.'' That's the first time he ever called me a nickname that isn't 'new girl'. My heart starts fluttering.

Now it's my turn to roll over and cover my face with my hands. I feel my cheeks lighting on fire, most likely turning them into a bright red color. He sits up and looks over at me with a massive grin, then takes my hands into his and removes them from my face. I try to roll away, so he won't see my face but he shakes his head and gets on top of me.

''Oh, you're not going anywhere.'' He says, still grinning. ''Let me see that face of yours.''

For every second that passes, I'm blushing even more. He takes my wrists in to his hands, gently pushing them down on the floor. He's looking at me with fiery eyes, then eventually leans forward and kisses me all over my face except for the lips. Then, he sits back up and looks down on me.

''Oh, did I miss something?'' He asks firmly. I nod. ''You know what to do.''

''Kiss me.'' I beg him and he looks at me, as if he's deciding whether or not he should do it.

He leans back forward and kisses me, cupping my cheek with one hand and his other hand in my hair. I feel as if someone lit fireworks inside of me, hungry for more. When he's done with me, I feel like a blushy mess.

''Well, that's one way to start the day.'' He gets up and grins at me.

He offers me his hand to get up on my feet and we leave the Undercroft. In the crisp daylight I notice that his cheeks are also flushed. I smile for myself, thinking that I'm falling so hard for him.

[six-of-ravens]

I am realizing now that there's this new...not genre but like, writing style (?) of book called "the author got into a fight on twitter and that became their whole book"

Babel falls into this category (see previous reblogs), as well as Seasonal Fears, where the author chose (chose!!) to make the main couple a frail, disabled girl and a big beefy football player, and then basically spent the whole book apologizing for it and explaining painstakingly that he would never abuse her oh noooo. It got to the point where the book was barely readable. I just know that came about because the author either got into a real twitter argument or made up a potential one in her head about how ~problematic~ people were going to think these characters were because of the physical/strength differences between them. I really wish the author had either stuck to her guns unapologetically (it would be a cute romance if she wasn't begging forgiveness for it every time they kissed) or just changed the characters entirely to save herself the anxiety.

I would also put Iron Widow loosely in this category, because it's a very angry book, clearly born of a lot of rage about misogyny, and I think sometimes that anger is detrimental to the plot (it just makes everything too...simple, I guess? when all the men do X and all the women do Y except our special MC who is the first woman ever to choose Z?). However, it's the one I liked the most out of the three, because the MC learning to trust (some of) the men in her life and learning that the shitty system is screwing them over too is a big part of the plot, so she doesn't just....wallow alone in anger, and the author doesn't constantly apologize for having A Man Do A Kiss On The Woman Oh Gawd (sorry, I'll stop, McGuire just HARDCORE disappointed me with SF).

Anyway. I feel like this "writing style" (idk, it's not really a genre? mood? frame of mind??) is why I hesitate to pick up a lot of new releases. It's not always bad, but those books always feel a little lacking, because the author is so obsessed with twitter arguments, extreme bad-faith takes, and trolls that they either completely fail to tell the story they wanted to tell (Seasonal. FEARS.) or it just...robs the story of that extra bit of complexity that would really make it Work.

[louisisalarrie]

i've been reading your posts about industry topics and the current h & b*n situation (and the az*offs) and i just can't comprehend how someone can sell their voice and values and morals for money? to continue their career? it just seems so money-hungry to me yk? and weak-minded, i don't want to sound rude because i don't know everything about the whole situation but yeah. i get having a dream, wanting to fulfil that dream and once one has it its hard to let go but how can one just turn off one's consciousness, ignore it all? for money, fame, a dream? my biggest dream is to be a model, i got castings and offers but i'd rather not achieve that dream if that means supporting a system that glorifies anorexia, is fatphobic etcetc, i was 17 back then. it was so easy to choose my morals. idk i'm rambling sorry for that, i just had this in my head. also when he does say political stuff etcetc why is he also supporting people like w*nstok az*offs etc? you cant be an ally and concurrently support antis yk... i mean yk ok i'll. stop rambling sorry for my english, not my first language :/

Don’t apologise for rambling, and certainly not your English!!! It’s fantastic, and thank you for sending this in!!

I think the modelling industry has been exposed for its problematic issues to the wider public a lot earlier on than the music industry has. Sure, both industries are very messy, but it’s a lot easier to point out “oh the modelling industry is fatphobic/encourages eating disorders” than “the music industry is corrupt and artists are forced to be closeted and overworked to the point of taking adrenaline shots before shows and barely ever actually seeing any of their own money the whole time” for the general public, because a lot of them just don’t have the awareness of how bad the music industry truly is, unless they’ve done research, been in this fandom (or one similar), or have come across info on social media about it, which is happening more and more these days. The technology to now communicate to massive groups of people and expose people/industries/artists and everything is an excellent tool to encourage change. The modelling industry has certainly seen a shift, and the music industry is slowly moving a bit as well. It’s just… an absolute mess though.

At the end of the day, they were kids who auditioned for a singing show because their mums encouraged them to, and they had no idea what was gonna happen if they did “make it”. Shooting to fame from the X Factor where you already get a huge amount of PR from being on TV, as opposed to working your way up slowly and seeing how it works, and understanding what you want, and choosing labels/managers etc. to work with who you know for a fact aren’t gonna do what Coward did, is just vastly different. I didn’t understand so much about the industry until I was already in it. And those kids were locked in with contracts, groomed, and thrown into the spotlight. And now they’re men. And we know they are good guys. But… it’s not as simple as just dropping everything to stand up for what you believe in, ya know?

I mean, obviously all the great stuff that they love about their job they want to keep, but they’re also tied up to a million contracts. So it’s actually a really long legal process to cut ties with it all without going entirely bankrupt/sued/having your whole career ruined. It’s very yikes but they’re already in the thick of it, and at the top of it. So yeah. Even just speaking up could mean a breach of contract. It is very disappointing he’s not at the very least cut off W*nston though.

Both industries are profiting at the expense of young hopefuls, both industries have produced incredibly inspiring and fantastic people, and both industries have burnt people out to nothing. It’s extremely frustrating to watch.

[23raccoons]

let me bleed (you're losing me) Ao3

Fandom: Naruto (Anime & Manga) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura/Nara Shikamaru, Haruno Sakura & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Yamanaka Ino Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke, Nara Shikamaru, Hatake Kakashi, Yamanaka Ino, Sai (Naruto), Karin (Naruto), Uchiha Madara Additional Tags: Dubious Consent, Blood and Violence, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Dark Uchiha Sasuke, Dark Nara Shikamaru, Protective Hatake Kakashi, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Self-Harm, Akatsuki (Naruto), War, Konoha 11 (Naruto), Everyone is Problematic ok?, Heavy Angst, Domestic Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fourth Shinobi War (Naruto), Memory Loss, PTSD, Manipulation, Bullying, Suicidal Thoughts, Degradation, Dacryphilia

Chapter 11 (chapter list)

Kakashi is not lying when he tells his genin he hates them. They are, by all means, quite literally the worst. He’d much rather be out in the field, surrounded by advancing enemies. 

Because what in the actual fuck is he supposed to do with an orphaned jinchuriki who only had instant ramen and milk a week past its expiration date in his house, or the last remaining Uchiha with a death wish of a vendetta for his older brother, who—the last time Kakashi checked—is wildly out of Sasuke’s fighting abilities, and a civilian girl. Who Kakashi first thinks is cannon fodder until he looks over her paperwork and she’s not only her class’s Top Kunoichi, but nearly every teacher’s favorite student, judging by all the little compliments on her personality or skill with course work or how cute she is in the margins. 

They are a wetworks dream team just waiting to happen. A theoretical teeny-tiny little psycho psyop squad. 

Two emotionally unstable powerhouses and a social, approachable brainiac. No sense of teamwork. They can barely complete d-ranked missions, and Sakura is often left smoothing over rough patches with clients for Naruto’s and Sasuke’s fuck-ups. No appreciation for her efforts or acknowledgment for their mistakes. 

Naruto hates Sasuke. Sasuke hates Naruto. Naruto has a crush on Sakura. Sakura has a crush on Sasuke. A pre-teen team love triangle, if you will. 

Kakashi would say Sasuke doesn’t even like Sakura, if not for the way he hovers around her, like she has a gravitational pull, keeping Sasuke in a circuit, in orbit around her. He’s downright mean to her, really. Borderline bullying as he snatches supplies or tools from her, snapping snarky comments at her like she’s entirely incapable of doing absolutely anything. 

and

she

just

fucking

lets

him

do 

it.

It's almost violent in how concerning it is. How nervous it makes him. On edge. How Sakura thanks him for helping her, like he’s some benevolent god bestowing a blessing on a poor peasant. Not a single complaint out of her about it. She doesn’t complain about anything, actually. Nothing but the utmost politeness out of her. 

Not the way Sasuke acts like she’s the most incompetent human to ever exist, but won’t stray more than six meters from her. He complains that she’s the worst fighter he’s ever seen, but blocks any stray shuriken headed her way. Defends her in skirmishes and training instead of letting her participate in combat herself. 

Not the way Naruto won’t quit being a little pervert towards the first girl to ever be nice to him. Kakashi can very genuinely not tell if it’s intentional or accidental, a by-product of his upbringing. He finds himself constantly having to mind that Naruto’s not trying to go to the bathroom with Sakura or that Naruto’s not watching while she changes clothes. Reminding him that no, he cannot peek into the women’s side of the bathhouse. No, he cannot crawl into Sakura’s bedroll even if she said it was ok. Purposeful like the many pornographic sexy jutsus he’s created. Or just ignorance, because he said he was cold and Sakura was the one who offered to let him in her sleeping bag to cuddle. 

Not the way she cries when Kakashi pulls her to the side to tell her not to let either of the boys try to do that again because now she’s in trouble, and she's bad and Kakashi is disappointed with her. Apologizing for her mistakes, even if she didn’t know any better. 

He hates them. 

There’s also sort of a sweet spot, so to speak, of how close both boys can creep up into Sakura’s personal space without being so close to each other that they’re fighting about that. Like they’re two negative ends of a magnet, and Sakura’s the positive one they’re trying to hook into. Every day she gets better at redirecting their behaviors, learning how to move between them in a way as to not upset the other, leading to a fight she has to break up. 

Kakashi’s a fan of letting them punch and kick and wrestle until one of them has won. Let them wear themselves out a bit at least. Sakura, however, doesn’t share the same ideology, and often Kakashi does have to intervene in the boys' disagreements because Sakura trying to pull them apart herself lands her in a situation to get hurt. 

And every thing he teaches the boys, they use against each other. New (proper) kunai skills. Taijutsu moves. Ninja wire tricks. He thinks this is the worst of it, that maybe with the gentle guidance of Sakura the boys will get better, fight less. Work together. 

And work together they do. When they are in Wave, he decides it would be a great time to teach them to tree walk. Demonstrating it for them and leaving (supervising from a short distance) them to figure it out on their own. A little team bonding. 

Quite possibly the biggest mistake he’s made since his venture into sensei-hood. 

Sasuke and Naruto both are terrible, awful at it. Running full speed up the trunk, sending wooden shrapnel everywhere, both will be covered in splinters by tomorrow. He’s so busy watching them, however, he doesn’t notice Sakura placing one foot on the tree, lifting it off, and replacing it several times. Switching her stance to test the other foot. Walking straight up to the lowest branch, plopping herself down with a laugh—the thing that finally catches his attention. 

Glancing up at her, feet kicking back and forth as they dangle. Looking so, so pleased with herself. Satisfied that for once, she has done something ninja-related better than Naruto or Sasuke. 

This is the moment the boys discover they do in fact get along, if Sakura has done something to offend Naruto’s rather indelicate sensibilities. And together they are so mean to her when she offers to help, to show them how to do it. Sakura’s eyes water as she tried to defend herself, insisting that she wasn’t trying to be insulting but rather a good teammate. 

Each word out of her mouth seems to make the situation worse—voices and volumes rise—as the boys try to outdo one another with rapidly growing jabs that are spiraling out of control and now even Naruto’s hurling insults—real ones—at Sakura, who's just standing there. 

Letting them.

“Oi,” he tries, but these kids don’t listen. They don’t follow orders. They don’t obey, not like his Anbu team does. “Hey! That’s enough guys.”

Naruto’s a street rat, through and through. One who has had more than plenty of nasty things said to him. So Kakashi is not entirely surprised when he’s not fast enough to stop the ‘bitch of a whore’ that comes flying out of the boy, trying to best Sasuke’s last comment. Kakashi would be surprised if Naruto even knows what that means, parroting the adults who make snide comments as he slinks by.

But Sakura. Little goody-two shoes Sakura knows exactly what those words mean. He can see it cross her face, like a slap, that Naruto of all people would call her something as demeaning as that. 

Kakashi is quick enough to stop Saukra before her palm has the chance to make contact with Naruto’s cheek, finally at her breaking point. He is not quick enough to stop the left hook Sasuke gives Naruto for his choice language, like he hadn’t just told Sakura that she was ‘pretty stupid for being so fucking smart.’ 

“That’s enough!” He has to shout it to get them to listen, still holding onto Sakura’s wrist, wedging himself in the middle of the three to prevent this from escalating further. Creating yet another problem, as now he is an authority figure, one who is not happy and yelling. Causing Sakura, the people-pleaser that she is, to burst into tears. Trying to apologize to Kakashi, like this is all her fault, through her sobs.

If Kakashi didn’t know what to do before, he sure as shit doesn’t know what to do now. Anbu don’t cry, they don’t beg for forgiveness. They don’t beg for anything. So he lets her tug herself from his grip, slipping through his fingers. To run off, not far, but out of sight, so she can have her little emotional outburst in peace. 

Like a cherry on top of a melted sundae, oozing everywhere, running and dripping all over the counter, both boys now seem to think it’s Kakashi’s fault Sakura is so upset, and they’re shouting at him now. Like the two of them hadn't been criticizing her like bratty bullies on the playground just moments before.

Kakashi grabs each boy by an ear, tugging them closer together so he can loom menacingly over them. Using his best scary captain voice, “If either of you ever have the nerve to pull a stunt like that again, I’ll yank that headband off your head myself. No more being a ninja for you. Do you understand?”

Both of them mumble a response, so Kakashi gives them a little shake. “What was that?”

“Yes, Kakashi.” They reply in unison, the insubordinate little shits. 

Later that evening, Kakashi catches Naruto pulling Sakura off to the side, “I asked Sasuke what those words meant. I’m sorry for saying them to you.”

“It’s ok, Naruto,” she says, giving him a sad little smile and a pat on his shoulder. “I know you didn’t mean it.” 

Kakashi pushes down that uncomfortable feeling again, the one he gets when Sasuke’s little remarks to Saukra turn too mean-spirited, too on the mark for Kakashi’s own feeling of Sakura’s ninja abilities.

He hates them. 

Dispite the rough patches, the mission builds some comradery, not nearly enough to install any faith that they will pass the upcoming chunin exams, which Kakashi’s Anbu team has been working on for months now. Prepping, planning, protecting. Making sure all the little genin will be as safe as the exams allow.

He’s been curating the team for years now, since he was a teen. Since he was running Anbu missions so hard and so frequently, the mask was useless, pointless. The recognizable destruction of his chidori a certified calling card, if you will. 

A new Anbu division made, captained by Kakashi himself, a small team of well-known, recognizable, feared ninja. A ‘top secret’ plainclothes black ops team. Ment to run the missions necessary for the good of Konoha. The worst of the worst. Exactly why they had chosen him to teach this specific group of genin, as it is highly likely Naruto and Sasuke will end up on Kakashi’s team anyway. Stern and straight-laced. Unrestrained and unruly. Feral—in the case of Anko—and insane.

Preparations for the village for the arriving teams has been going on almost non-stop since he returned from the Wave mission, which has left Kakashi grumpy and tired. He looks like shit. He feels like shit. 

The chunin exams are shit. 

He should’ve pulled them the moment he's sitting in the sensei's lounge reading, and Kurenai frowned, crossed her arms, and whispered to Asuma as they watched the video feed of Kakashi’s genin walking in. “Oh no, they’re going to eat her up.”

Kurenai’s one to talk, as the rumor is the Hyuuga heiress is about as soft as a pillow feather. A stuttering, nervous thing. Her teammates, however, are not picking fights with every other team they come across though, so there’s that. (She’s also not the most colorful thing in the camouflage filled room either.)

Kakashi is convinced that his awful little genins aren’t even going to get past the first round, Ibiki’s paper test. Sakura’s such a little rule-following-nerd of a bookworm she’ll never even think to cheat, Sasuke will cheat but not help Naruto, and Naruto won’t get a single question right, cheating or not. Kakashi took it, and even he took just over twenty minutes to finish, as he doesn’t know the last time he’s even read up on something as obscure as advanced chakra theory or the precise calculations of the trajectory of a dozen kunai. And the tenth question—less about who gets it right and more about who it weeds out—to find who is willing to throw the mission, to be the one to take the sacrifice for the good of the team. 

They fucking pass. He hates them.

Kakashi’s team gathers in his empty little sham of an apartment, along with Asuma. (Kakashi keeps Gai away from the inner workings of the team, and Asuma remains on the standard Anbu roster, not on Kakashi’s team.)

Ibiki comes in smiling, which is never a good sign. Ever. If Ibiki is smiling, grinning ear-to-ear as much as his scarred lips will let him, it means someone has bested one of his little mind games. Oddly enough, Asuma looks nearly as sick as Kakashi feels in the moment. 

Ibiki runs through top performers from the other villages, noting several teams of concern—most notably the Sand Trio, the Kazekage’s children. Gaara of the Sand, the one-tailed jinchuriki, already a known asset to Suna. 

Then it’s what Kakashi’s the most nervous about, the stack of Konoha candidates. The usual repeat offenders, trying yet again to rank up. Kakashi almost feels like throwing up as the pile dwindles. The nine rookies and Team Gai. Most pass to expectations, docked for clan jutsus or more obvious cheating tactics. 

Four files left. One of Asuma’s kids and all three of Kakashi’s. He will give Ibiki that his sense of showmanship truly top-notch—anxiety-inducing stuff. 

“Uchiha Sasuke,” Ibiki calls out, waving the folder around. Two out of three is only mildly less stressful. “Docked for use of the sharingan, docked for three incorrect answers.”

“Uzumaki Naruto. The bottom score passed with negative points on the paper questions. Docked twice for talking to his neighbor. Did not answer a single written question.” Unsurprising, really. Naruto’s name is only a small relief, as it means Sakura has made the top two, and in Ibiki’s eyes, one of the most insulting places she could be.

Ibiki holds each of the files up. Haruno Sakura and Nara Shikamaru. Asuma lights a cigarette beside him, Kakashi doesn’t even have it in him to nag about the deposit, like the cost of this place actually comes out of Kakashi’s own pocket. He debates asking for one himself. 

“Nara Shikamaru.” Asuma lets out the breath he was holding, sending smoke spiraling. Kakashi does motion for one now, because that only means Sakura’s performance Is what has Ibiki so excitable. And if she’s out performing the genius little Nara brat, that’s not a good sign. Asuma hands him the lit one from his mouth, but Kakashi’s going to smoke it anyway, hiding behind his book so he can pull his mask down to puff on it. “Only answered seven questions—all correctly, docked once for cheating. Off of one…Haruno Sakura.”

Ibiki times the name with a puff, causing a few coughs from Kakashi that the other man lets die before he continues. “Haruno answered all questions correctly. Docked zero times. No accounts of cheating. Haruno herself, however, was cheated off of at minimum seventeen times. More than any of my chunin plants combined. Causing an uncalculated spread of answers that has skewed the number of passing participants greatly.”

Uh-oh.

Ibiki’s smile gets even bigger as he waits until Kakashi peeks over the cover of his book, and Kakashi doesn’t know how this could get worse. “Haruno finished the test in just under nineteen minutes. A new record.”

…

…

…

what

the 

fuck. 

He hates them. 

Then a mission comes up, while the genin are off galavanting through the Forest of Death. Kakashi’s more than uncomfortable with it, tingling with apprehension that something's wrong. He goes, and everything runs so smoothly, so perfectly, he’s racing home to find what tragedy awaits him there. Worse than he could imagine, no one is dead, but Sasuke now has a nice brand new curse mark gifted by Ororchimaru himself. 

Sakura also has undergone a haircut, chopped shorter than Sasuke’s even. Arms wrapped in bandages, she’s dirty and covered in scrapes and scratches, hovering over Sasuke, who’s allowing it, despite his attitude about it. 

He hardly has time to think about it. So many teams have passed, much more than they planned. They call for a qualifying round, both to thin the numbers for the third stage and create more time to investigate the security breach. To help with whatever curse seal Orochimaru has placed on Sasuke. 

Kakashi flips through the candidate files, pairing them off as he sees fit. Being sure to pair Sakura against someone who will beat her, but not in a physical way, as Inoichi’s daughter is well versed in the clans techniques. 

Sasuke and Naruto are onto the third round, and Sakura’s been eliminated, no chance of her having to go up against someone like Gaara. A month of training Sasuke, teaching him Kakashi’s very one-handed jutsu. Naruto spending the time training with Jiraiya. 

And if the first two rounds weren’t shit enough, they’ve gone straight to hell in a handbasket with the third. He barely has time to acknowledge the fact that Sakura (and the Nara brat, who Sakura could tell was faking sleeping?—a thought for later) has broken out of a high-level genjutsu nearly as easily as he has. He sends Pakkun off with the two and Naruto to try and reign Sasuke back in.

Sound ninjas. Sand ninjas. Orochimaru and the one-tailed jinchuriki. The death of the third Hokage. Itachi and the Akatsuki. The Fifth Hokage. And then somehow, even with over two decades of being a ninja, all the shit he’s seen, all the fucked up missions, all the dead teammates—the one event that ends up fucking his head up the most doesn’t end in death, no one even ends up hurt. 

He hates them. 

But the image burned into his mind of Sasuke and Naruto arguing, fighting on top of the hospital roof of all places, Sakura screaming for them to stop. Of the boys using real, dangerous jutsus against each other. And Sakura, Sakura who would rather throw herself between the boys to take the damage than let them hurt each other. 

He hates them. He hates them. He hates them. 

Kakashi’s almost not fast enough to stop it from happening.

Chapter 12