#referenced/past child abuse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

paingoes · 2 months

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Rubies

First Base

(Content: living weapon whumpee, past slavery, guns, dehumanization, broken bones, needles, conditioning, referenced child abuse, kinda ambivalent caretaking?)

“It’ll be okay,” Kitty whispered, “Levon pretends to be a hard-ass, but he’s actually really nice.”

Her voice was so low, Delta thought she must have been talking to herself. She ran her claw in circles over his palm. He’d woken up already clutching her hand; he would not have dared touch her otherwise. While his grip had since relaxed, hers had not.

He’d been lucid for such a short while before they had to go again. Kitty had felt so bad about it. There’d been so little time to explain. She explained the plan. He had already known the plan. She explained who she was. He already knew who she was. She explained he had been sick. He had known that simply from how bad he felt all over — his insides felt like they’d been cooked — but the delirium episode did came as a surprise. He had no memory of it, but when he had finally came to, he did not feel himself in a foreign environment. His surroundings had integrated themselves slowly into his awareness through a state of fever.

The ship was small, without enough seats for everyone who had come. The captain — Iza, he had heard the others say her name — sat at the helm. She was flanked by two others at their own stations. Everyone else was on the floor. Sunny — Apollo? — tossed restlessly in between sleeping and waking. He had not wanted to go out, but he simply couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. His brother(?) Lun(?) laid his head down in their lap, propping up their jacket beneath his neck. The mechanic sat towards the back of the ship, the only person visibly unbothered by what was about to happen.

Levon, Levon, Levon. None of them could keep his name out of their mouth. Kitty had not needed to introduce him to Delta. She knew there was no need. Even in the heart of Empire, they printed his face on t-shirts. He had been the revolution’s darling when he was younger. Now that he was older, he was the revolution. He had lived his entire life in its service. There was no single person Empire hated more.

“It’ll be fine,” Kitty insisted.

The ship pulled into the dock.

The boy in the chair next to Iza let out a low whistle, “Lotta guns.”

It was true. There was a ring of guards posted around the inert ship. All of them were armed. Iza stood up abruptly, throwing her helmet down onto the panel and slamming the ship’s doors open.

“It’s me!” She was furious.

Apollo shot awake, fumbling to put his glasses back on. He started talking before he could even see properly, “That’s not- uh-“

One of the guards entered the ship, putting her hands up in what was meant to be a pacifying motion. Just checking. Her gaze traveled to Delta’s collar. Delta flinched once from Iza’s outburst, again as the guard approached. Her finger slipped flush against the inside of the collar, checking the fit, the stability, the power level. She gave it a light tug to see if it would give; it didn’t. Apparently satisfied, she stepped back. She hopped back out of the ship, offering one hand out to Iza to help her down. Iza ignored her completely.

“So sorry,” Apollo muttered. It took Delta a second to realize he was speaking to him. Kitty guided him to stand, letting him lean against her. It was hard to move with the broken ribs and he kept getting dizzy whenever he stood. She helped him out of the ship. The others poured out soon after.

“Medbay,” A different guard said, “We only need him.”

“He can barely walk,” Kitty protested.

“Only you two, then.”

Apollo frowned, but she waved him away.

“I’ve got it,” Kitty made a little circle with her fingers. O.K. They were escorted away before Apollo could respond.

=================

For the third time, they recast Delta’s arm. It wasn’t that Apollo had done a bad job; just that it could have been better. They put a new splint onto his nose. Kitty was ashamed she had not even realized it was broken. In her defense, it was a bit overshadowed by the myriad of injuries that otherwise marked his body.

“Three of your ribs are broken. Did you know they were broken?” The nurse asked. Her voice was muffled through the mask. Delta nodded mutely.

Kitty hadn’t known. If Apollo had known, he hadn’t mentioned it. And that wasn’t like him.

“Is anything else broken? That you know of?”

Delta shook his head. The nurses went back to their hushed chatter. Kitty’s tail flicked from left to right. Delta wasn’t talking. He’d given the bare minimum response back at house, when he was still coming out of the fever. The only reason she even knew he was lucid was because his eyes had cleared up and because he’d stopped talking total nonsense. He did not give any indication that he was okay. Just that he was present again. Kitty pulled her legs up onto the chair, chittering aimlessly to fill the silence. Delta didn’t mind so long as she did not ask him questions.

=================

The nurse lightly tapped Kitty on the elbow, gesturing for her to follow out into the hallway. She did so unquestioningly. The other nurses followed them out of the room. It took Delta about ten seconds to realize he was completely alone in the room. That…was unusual, right? He did not have enough time to feel true apprehension. The knock came first.

Levon was tall. He had known that. It was a good bit of trivia, a good running joke, but that had not translated cleanly into Delta’s physical understanding of him. It was not adequate preparation. He’d had to duck his head a bit to step through the doorway. The door shut silently behind him.

Delta got off the bed and down onto his knees in an instant. It wasn’t adequate, he realized. He bent forward to press his forehead to the cold tile floor. It was deeper than he could ever remember bowing and it put too much pressure on his still healing ribs. He would have gone lower if he could. It was in surrender, of course. But more than anything else, it was in apology.

He stayed still and unbreathing. He felt the air swishing above him. Levon’s voice came much closer than he had expected.

“I appreciate the gesture, but you should probably keep the IV in.”

Delta slowly raised his head up, rolling back into a kneel. He took in his surroundings. The IV cannula had been yanked out of his arm from how quickly he’d gotten onto the ground. The post wobbled dangerously behind him. And Levon had bent down to Delta’s eye level.

He did not look the same as he did on the T-shirts. His eyes were darker. His hair was not as wild. There was stubble all along his jawline and a pure roughness to his flesh that the photos could not convey. In none of the posters had he ever looked so worried.

“Sit up, please.”

To his absolute awe, Levon extended a hard to him. Delta hesitated, certain he was misinterpreting the gesture. He cautiously offered his unbroken wrist. Levon slid up to grasp his hand instead. He carefully pulled him up to his feet.

Delta pushed himself back onto the bed. Even with help, it was still a lot harder to get up than it was to get down. He sat on the edge of it, resisting the urge to curl up. He kept his hands folded in his lap — as best he could with the cast on.

Levon towered over him. Delta bowed his head, both in respect and for the sake of his own nerve. He could not bring himself to look in his eyes. The shame felt hot and weighted. It was the first time he had ever been around someone he knew would not enable what he had done in Empire’s name. Before, all his shame had been wholly internal. Facing that same disapproval from someone else — someone he was entirely at the mercy of — was terrifying. He knew he deserved it. It did nothing to quell the fear.

“As much as I wish we could have met under different circumstances, I have to put the safety of my people first. I would not have had you siloed off like this otherwise, nor would I have to go through with this line of questioning while you’re still injured. Unfortunately, your friends have put me in a situation where I have to do just that.” He sounded very tired, but his cadence was clear and steady in spite of this.

Delta could feel the gaze on him without needing to look up. He did not know what it was Levon was searching for, but by the end of it he seemed a bit more certain of something.

“Your friends promised you amnesty. They shouldn’t have. It was never within their power to do so. Even if it had been, you did not tell them what you were when the deal was arranged. It’s void.” He paused.

Delta did not outwardly react. Levon’s voice was still conversational, not injecting any threat or anger into it. He glanced up to try and parse Levon’s expression. What he learned was that Levon had been staring straight at his face. He’d caught the glance Delta had intended to be discreet.

“Yes?” Levon asked. It was that which made Delta flinch. He hadn’t meant to challenge him, nor to draw more attention to himself. His voice was still hoarse from where the fever had pushed the blood up and his nerves were even worse. But Levon let the silence hang.

“A.” Delta’s voice caught, “Am I allowed to speak, sir?”

“Please.” Levon nodded. Delta gripped the fabric of the bedsheet tightly, absolutely desperate for any support it could provide.

“I did not expect amnesty, sir. I came to surrender,” Delta whispered.

He had never believed in their promise of mercy. It was ignorant. He did not care to be forgiven. What he had wanted was to be out of Empire — both his mind and his body, unavailable for them to take advantage of or to harvest. That wish had already been granted. In return, he would accept any punishment Levon deigned to give him.

Levon paused to consider this. After a while, he responded, “I would very much like to believe you. So much that I am willing to take you on the honor system. I want you to answer truthfully. Did you come of your own accord? Or were you sent here on assignment?”

Delta realized all at once how he must appear. He was a traitor to the heartland. He had bitten every master he’d ever had. He had lied to them all about who he was and what he had meant to do. He was a snake. He was too sneaky. Why would Galatea have any reason to trust him? How could they have known it was not just another plot?

“I came to surrender, sir.” It was all he could say. “I came alone.“

“Do I have your word?” Levon asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“And do I have your word that you do not intend to harm us? That I will not regret letting you inside?”

“Yes, sir.” His eyes watered.

Levon’s expression softened a bit. He produced a handkerchief from his pocket, extending it gingerly. Delta stared at it in confusion. He did not grasp its utility at first. He did not understand why Levon had noticed him crying and not immediately punished him for it. Still, he took it gratefully. He wiped away the dried blood and dabbed at the tears that threatened to rehydrate it. Levon was watching him closely.

“…How old are you?” Levon tilted his head to the side.

“Nineteen, sir.” Delta replied. It was only an educated guess. He knew he’d hit eighteen a while back because there had to be new legal paperwork filed. Some time had passed since then.

“And you’ve been active what? Five years, by our count?” Levon raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay.” He nodded, “I’ll have to sort out the particulars, but I will give you my assurance that you won’t be hurt. We can wait until you’re healed before we move forward. I think that would be in your best interest.”

Delta nodded. He played absently with the handkerchief Levon had given him, tracing his fingers along its embroidered edges. It was a lot to process. Too much, really. Levon said he wouldn’t be hurt, at least not yet. Levon wanted him to heal. It was too easy. Delta felt like he was getting away with something. It wasn’t right.

“Again, I’m sorry it had to play out like this,” Levon’s tone lightened considerably, “Appreciate your patience. I probably won’t bother you again until you’re feeling better. Do feel better.”

He left just as abruptly as he’d arrived. Delta was once again alone in the ward. The nurses soon filtered back in, picking up their work as if nothing had happened. If he had not kept the handkerchief, Delta would have thought the whole encounter was just a remnant of the fever.

==========

tags:

@catnykit@indigoviolet311@snakebites-and-ink@vivulapom@scoundrelwithboba@whatwhump@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire @micechomper

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aftgficrec · 11 months

Note

hi I'm so excited I caught you guys open :D

I was wondering if you guys could find some fics where Neil brings up his past in casual conversation or his past gets brought up because of something he said or did

Also I've read a lot of the older soulmate fics where they can feel each other's pain or communicate telepathically and stuff like that but was wondering if there are any new ones :)

Ty u so much <333

There is so much material here I decided to split it into 2 parts, one with fics about Neil’s past, and one devoted to soulmate aus. Enjoy! - S

references to Neil’s past:

people Neil met on the run here

Foxes learn about Neil's past here

The Foxes react to Neil’s life here

The Foxes react to Neil’s scars here

The Foxes react to Mary’s abuse here

videos of neil on the run here

Neil’s secrets unravel here

Neil says ‘it’s fine I’ve had worse’ here

Neil shows off his knife skills here

‘The Bet’ here

‘here I am, there you go again’ here

‘I'm not broken (I'm made for a mosaic)’ and ‘More Afterthoughts, Chapter 39’ here

‘arrivals/departures’ here

‘TFC minifics...’ Ch 23 here

‘heavy hands, heavy hearts’ here

‘"I've endured far worse"’ here

‘it whistles through the ghosts still left behind’ here

you may also like:

Neil with languages/accents here

Neil with languages/accents 2 here

‘No straighter path than to struggle’ here

Neil also shows off his knife and language skills in ‘I Hope You Lie To Me’ here (ch. 9)

Neil’s past:

Andrew, I'm fine by AceSirenSinger [Rated T, 2081 words, complete, 2023]

Andrew passes through the door into the ensuite bathroom, and he freezes an instant before he understands why. The bathroom tile is smudged red, just so. Someone bled here, and then wiped it, too quickly. Andrew wants to call for Neil, but he is suddenly unsure if he is alone in his apartment.

tw: nightmares, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: knives, tw: violence

Killer Bunny by godless_writer [Rated T, 6661 words, complete, 2023]

Neil started his second year in college thinking his past was behind him. His father was dead, Riko was dead, he was no longer running – nothing left to hide from. At least that is what he thought before six FBI agents barged into his team’s practice one day. Or The team finds out Neil had to kill some of his father’s men while on the run.

tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: panic attacks

Bound for Error by confusedtoadd [Rated M, 22759 words, incomplete, last updated July 2023]

“You claim you’ve left your truth bare, yet you still lie, interesting don’t you think Nathaniel?” Neil was paralyzed, stuck between begging for her to stop and strangling her. They were a mix of his parents' wishes, his father's anger was bubbling over, his mother's survival instincts charged his legs with vigor. “Perhaps I should have stepped in sooner. No matter, they will know the truth soon, you did promise no more running, Nathaniel.” OR The foxes react to Neils life, pre-canon included.

tw: implied/referenced suicide attempt, tw: implied/referenced suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: violence, tw: blood & gore, tw: torture, tw: abuse, tw: psychological abuse, tw: panic attacks

Secrets by The_stars_ship_us [Rated T, 1265 words, complete, 2023]

Matt sees Neil's scars for the first time and Neil wakes up, still sleepy, and feels comfortable and safe enough to speak in his true accent

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: scars

The Best That You Can Hope For (is to die in your sleep) by Major_816 [Not Rated, 10840 words, complete, 2022]

The first time O’Malley saw the kid was in a low-level underground gambling ring, walls crawling with asbestos and next to every bastard inside armed with something sharp if not something packed with warped metal and gunpowder. He couldn’t have been more than thirteen, but he surveyed the crowd of the room with years more experience than he should have. There were scars cutting across exposed bits of skin, sick looking in the light of the place and stretching hotel-bible-page-thin over crooked bones. He was a wispy thing. Nothing more than a scrap of a boy stitched together. O’Malley was half-convinced a strong wind might blow him over, but the kid turned, those quick and clever eyes burning across the room and O’Malley could recognize that sort of fight instinct. He saw him again half a year later in Northern Florida.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: scars, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation

Broken bones by All_for_the_andreil [Rated T, 1126 words, complete, 2021]

Neil gets injured during a game and freaks out. Andrew finds out what exactly happened to Neil in Baltimore.

tw: implied/referenced torture

I guess I can drop the accent now by poly_pr1nce [Rated M (we say T), 495 words, complete, 2020, locked]

Neil reveals the final thing he's been hiding about himself after the Foxes win against the Ravens and Riko's death

...'ah yes, my shirt will cover this' by @jingerhead [tumblr, 2021]

This prompt is great, I've read some angsty fics about Neil getting hurt and they're great BUT I love the idea of Neil getting stabbed and he's just like.....'ah yes, my shirt will cover this' and everyone notices right away. I think something super angst or something more lighthearted would be equally great haha!

tw: injuries

Art

what’s life on the run like? art by @meaucrow

Thinking about all he went through trying to survive art by @microolli

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snowdice · 4 days

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Little Kestrel (Part 55) [Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb, sexual coercion of minors implied, a minor offering sexual favors, fire

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted (and possibly some future content), look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54

Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.

Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.

Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce more and more quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.

“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.

“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.

Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.

The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.

After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.

“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”

“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.

“For what?”

Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”

“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.

Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”

Virgil stepped out of his way so he could study the page. “Yes,” Logan said after scanning through all of the ingredients. “I think cardamom would work for something like that. Let me go find some.”

He turned to walk towards where he kept his supplies of potion ingredients. Virgil followed on his heals.

“Can we use a serrated knife?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, Virgil,” Logan said, nodding as he searched through the cupboard that should hold the coriander. “The knife being serrated would help keep the potion stuck to the blade after many uses and would increase the surface area.”

“That was certainly my intention,” Virgil said smoothly. There was something odd about the tone that had Logan turning and blinking at him. Virgil just smiled at him innocently and Logan turned back to the cabinet finally locating the cardamom.

“So how are we going to use that?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll put it in right before the last step and let it sit for about 3 minutes,” Logan said. “If it doesn’t quite work, we may need to make another batch. There are options other than cardamom, but that’s the first idea that comes to mind and it’s a lot simpler if it works.”

He continued to speak of the many other options they could try as they returned to the caldron as well as how they could test the hot knife. It was already about time for the next step and Virgil did it without interrupting Logan’s rant.

Virgil listened to his suggestions with interest all while still making sure the potion he was making was progressing well.

Logan did eventually take over to finish the potion with the revised steps he’d come up with and they ended up with a potion that looked perfect except it was a few shades darker than the one they’d originally been planning to make.

“Well, it looks good,” Logan declared. “We will need to acquire a knife to test its effectiveness, however.”

“There are a few good ones in the kitchen,” Virgil pointed out. “I especially like the one 10 inch one with the black and white handle.”

“You have been eyeing up the kitchen knives?” Logan asked.

Virgil rolled his eyes as though that was not a perfectly reasonable question to ask him. “We should steal that one,” Virgil said.

“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak past Ms. Heart to steal a knife from her kitchen?” Logan asked.

“We can’t,” Virgil said. The ‘but I can’ was implied.

Logan almost didn’t believe him… and then he remembered the water pouch incident. “It’s the dinner rush,” Logan said. “We should probably wait for a bit.”

Virgil was shaking his head. “The dinner rush is the best time,” he said. “Everyone will be distracted, and all of the knives will be out and in prime stealing position.”

“And if Patton’s mother catches us messing around in her kitchen during her busiest time of day, she will have Father ground us for a week.”

“Then we just won’t get caught,” Virgil said.

“I’m not sure if it’s that simple,” Logan said with a frown.

“You can stay here if you want,” Virgil offered. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“No, I’ll come too,” Logan relented, though he did still have some reservations about the idea.

He let Virgil lead him towards the main dining hall. By now, Virgil knew the kitchens and dining hall very well.

“Stay here,” he said. They were in a hallway a few feet down from the staff entrance to the main kitchen. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.”

“What type of reconnaissance?” Logan asked, but Virgil had already vanished before his very eyes. With a blink, Logan looked up and saw a dark figure disappear onto a balcony overhead.

Well, Logan really had no choice but to wait there for him. It wasn’t like he could follow him. He could hear the clatter of silverware on plates from the dining hall down the corridor as he impatiently waited. It only took Virgil a bit over five minutes to return. He dropped suddenly from above and landed in front of Logan in a crouch.

“Well?” Logan asked, letting a bit of irritation into his tone so Virgil knew he was displeased. Virgil did not seem to care.

“Got it,” Virgil said with a wide grin, brandishing a large kitchen knife.

Logan flinched back at the unexpected sight of a weapon.

“You said you were doing reconnaissance!” he sputtered. “Not…” he trailed off remembering that while they weren’t in eyesight of anyone right now, they could be in earshot of someone. He lowered his tone, “stealing the knife already.”

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Virgil said with a shrug, “and then I used the information gathered by that reconnaissance to steal a knife.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at him.

Virgil just smiled. “You would have gotten in my way.”

“I would not have,” Logan insisted.

“How many times has Patton’s mom caught you stealing food from the kitchens in the past?” he asked.

Logan pursed his lips. “That is Patton’s doing,” he said.

“Sure,” Virgil said with an eyeroll. “I’ll have you prove it some other day, but for now,” he twirled the knife around in a way that made Logan cringe even though he did seem to have an expert handle over it. “We have a knife.”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a nod. “We should continue the experiment.”

Virgil stored the knife away… somewhere on his person, and they snuck back to Logan’s rooms.

When Virgil handed over the knife, Logan did have to admit it was a perfect specimen for their project: long and saw-like with a heatproof handle.

Logan carefully set it in a shallow dish and proceeded to pour the potion they’d made onto it. They let it sit for a little under half an hour before carefully pulling it out of the concoction with tongs and letting it airdry. Meanwhile, Virgil suggested they set up a testing area with various old sheets and clothing. They’d even found and decorated an armor stand with an old suit that Logan particularly disliked.

“Well,” Logan said once he’d tapped the handle and had not gotten burned by the potion. “I think we can test it now.” For safety, he made Virgil put on thick heatproof gloves before handing him the knife.

“So how do I make it work?” Virgil asked.

“The original potion works through light friction,” Logan said.

“So just start stabbing things?”

Logan went to respond, but before he could, Virgil had already twisted around and sliced through one of the sheets hanging in Logan’s potion room. There was a sizzling noise as the knife cut through the sheet like it was tissue paper leaving two aflame halves flapping about.

Logan leapt forward to tear the pieces of sheet down and the two of them stomped on the flames to put out the fire.

“It’s perfect,” Virgil said with a grin once the charred remains of the sheet were extinguished.

“It does seem to work as intended,” Logan agreed.

“Let’s do it again,” Virgil said.

“Er, well, perhaps we shouldn’t…,” Logan started, but Virgil had already set his eyes on the armor stand they’d set up. That suddenly seemed like not such a good idea to Logan.

He stabbed the armor stand viciously. It went up in violent flames. Logan’s eyes widened as the blaze only seemed to get bigger as Virgil drew back the knife.

Virgil did not seem to share Logan’s worry as he turned and stabbed another piece of hanging clothing, setting it ablaze as well.

“Virgil, no! You’re going to burn the room down!” Logan yelped.

The armor stand, at that very moment, decided to fall to the ground. They had, perhaps, not set the testing area up as well as they should have because it fell directly onto one of Logan’s rugs and set that on fire as well.

“Oops,” Virgil said, eyes wide.

Above the sound of crackling fire, Logan heard a tapping on the door between his bedroom and work room. It opened slightly after a moment and Logan’s father’s voice called out as he was sticking his head into the room, “Um, what do you mean Virgil… is burning the room down!”

The moment Logan’s father fully processed the presence of the flames, he was bursting into the room. He at least remembered that there was a fire extinguishing powder stocked in Logan’s work room even though that fact had slipped Logan’s mind in the chaos. (Perhaps Logan should have thought to set it out when they were testing a fire knife, but Logan would just add that to his growing list of regrets.)

The king managed to put all of the fires out within 30 seconds of poking his head through the door, but the fire left in his eyes when he turned to look at them afterwards was perhaps more dangerous.

Virgil slowly hid the knife behind his back. It was probably a bit late for that.

“What were the two of you doing in here?” the king asked.

“Nothing,” Logan said. Virgil shot him a look that told Logan what the boy thought about his lying abilities.

Logan’s father put his hands on his hips. “‘Nothing’ set the rug on fire?”

“We may have been doing a small experiment,” Logan said.

“What experiment?” the king asked.

“…I do not wish to say.”

“Logan.”

“Virgil wanted a fire knife.”

“A what?”

Virgil frowned over at Logan. “Your resistance to interrogation techniques is deplorable.”

Father turned to look at Virgil and obviously spotted the fact that Virgil was holding something behind his back.

“Give it here,” Father said, though his tone was a bit gentler with Virgil than it had been with Logan.

Virgil debated it for a moment, but then offered over the knife with a pout on his face. Father gingerly took it and the fire-resistant gloves from him. “Where did the two of you even get this knife?”

“You can’t tell her,” Logan said.

“You stole a knife from the kitchens?!” the king asked.

“We borrowed it,” Logan said.

“Can it be used for cooking anymore?”

“…Well.”

“In the intended manner.”

“No.”

“Then you stole it.”

Logan just frowned and looked away.

“I’m going to go put this in a secure location,” Father said, grimacing at the fire knife in his hands. “No more experiments for you two for a month. I’ll sic Patton on you.”

With that, he picked up what was left of the fire extinguishing powder (just in case) and turned to exit the room.

“Well,” Logan said once he was gone. “That was irresponsible.”

“I could steal it back from him.”

“N-no don’t do that.”

“I definitely could though,” Virgil said.

“I did not hear you say that,” Logan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I am not responsible for any more of your actions in this matter. I am going to the library.”

He walked out of the room then and Virgil followed him to the upstairs library. He said nothing more about the fire knife, but Logan would be a fool to suppose he forgot about it.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #character thomas sanders #adriana writes #little kestrel #birds of different feathers #implied/referenced child abuse #assassination attempt #past torture #captivity #fire

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ashintheairlikesnow · 10 months

Text

It Has to Be

For @amonthofwhump 12 Days of Whumpmas, Day 5: Ebenezer Scrooge |Power Outage | Time Loop | Overworked Whumpee | Comfort: Snuggling by the Fire

CW: Intimate whumper, past drugging and noncon, references to captivity and scars

The Motherfucking Gallaghers Masterlist

As always, Jax (and the mentioned Alfie) belong to @comfy-whumpee and are used with their input and permission.

Finley White is getting so tired of looking at Savvie Marcoset’s face. At least during the prepping stages, it’s mostly through videos and photographs. They can turn it off, turn away, take a break.

But they’re still tired of seeing it.

Not half so tired, they muse, as their client must be.

“Miss Savvie Marcoset, is it really you?! How are you?!”

“It’s Mrs. Savvie Marcoset,” She corrects, prim and proper. Savvie has her hands folded in her lap, her hair pulled back with a clip. The shadows under her eyes are the only sign that she is, at the time this was recorded, someone frantically searching for her missing captive. In a long off the shoulder black sweater and leggings, she seems relaxed and happy. She smiles, gentle and sweet. It looks utterly sincere. “I am married, you know.”

She holds up a hand and waggles her fingers, showing off the brilliance of her diamond ring.

The person wearing the camera device gasps with audible delight. “Did you really finally get him to put a ring on it? Gosh, Sav, I thought he would never propose!”

“I know that voice,” Finley White's client says, leaning forward. He frowns, his knee bouncing beneath the table. “I remember she was a twat.”

The corner of Finley’s mouth twitches, a smile they can't quite suppress. “Virginia Marshall, goes by Jennie. Went to college with Savannah Marcoset. The Marshalls were longtime friends with the Marcosets, close enough to be trusted. Jennie was facing some low-level charges of her own and agreed to help build this case as part of a plea deal.”

“Twat and coward.” He snorts. “Sounds about right.”

“Well, technically I was the one who got down on one knee,” Savvie says. There’s something strange in her eyes, like always - she looks with too much intensity. She’s hiding it well here, acting with the best of them, but Finley’s been staring at her face for so long that they can see right through it even so.

Finley saw Savvie Marcoset’s true talents on the stand, the first time. They had watched with surprised dismay as she charmed the jury, seeing how she could channel her intensity and terrifying focus into overwhelming charisma before an audience.

“Oh, that’s so modern,” The woman wearing the hidden camera gushes, cooing over the ring. “Did you write your own vows, too?”

Savvie laughs, abashed. “No, no. Traditional. I always wanted a traditional wedding. So did he, really, he's an old-fashioned kind of guy. You should have seen him blush during 'love, honor, and obey.'"

The noise Finley's client makes in reaction to that statement is indescribable.

“Traditional vows... makes sense. You’ve always been the romantic type. Where is that lucky duck today, anyway? The hubby? He isn't with you?”

Savvie's smile doesn't even flicker. “He’s at home with our babies. He loves being a stay-at-home dad, you know? It’s all he ever wanted to be.”

In reality, at the moment this video was recorded, the escaped Jax Gallagher was in his father's apartment, likely pretending to sleep, but at least not sleeping next to her. His children would have been nearby, safe from Savvie's cruelty for the first time.

You’d never know anyone was gone. She's as good an actress as she is at playing music, when she wants to be. And she is clearly pretending that absolutely nothing is wrong.

“Oh, well, bring him to my house sometime, yeah? Let me get a look at him and those little ones.”

“He’s… very private,” Savvie says, low and soft. She gives a little roll of her eyes. “Because of me being, you know, known, and he isn't from a famous family or anything… we like to keep his name out of things. His family is so toxic, plus you know how gossipy the press is about him…”

“Him? Him who?” The informant plays dumb.

“You know… My ex..."

“Oh, your ex Bastian Brighthall?”

“Ha! No, no. I just mean… you know. Since… prison. Which, like, can no one become rehabilitated in this country? Let me live! I’m a law-abiding citizen now, and, and a wife and mother! You have no idea what it's like just trying to raise babies these days..."

She’s so deeply offended. The informant pretends to be offended, too, and lets Savvie change the subject, turn it around to how hard it is to be a woman just trying to live out her happily ever after. It’s masterful, how well she can lead someone along and away from what she doesn’t want to share.

Finley White’s eyelid twitches where they sit at a table, watching this conversation unfold on a television bolted to the wall on the opposite side of the room. Beside them, their client has lapsed back into stony silence, his jaw set, arms crossed. He doesn't look at Savannah Marcoset’s sweet and smiling face, not directly.

He’s tense enough that Finley worries, more than a little, that one of his tendons will simply snap from the stress. He knows - he knew long before Finley said it out loud - what a farce this is, how utterly unnecessary. He knows better than anyone that Ms. Marcoset could have pleaded guilty and saved them all this expense and trouble. The evidence is thoroughly stacked against her. She has no way out, but it doesn’t stop her from throwing out every delay tactic she has.

Jax had been the first one to vocalize the point of Savannah’s strange game, during their meeting with him and his father after the arrest. She’ll drag it out, make it take as long as possible, he’d predicted, sitting in his father's cozy living room in his apartment in England. Finley had flown to him, once again - they had sworn to him once, after the first trial’s conclusion, that they wouldn’t ask him to fly back to America unless they had to.

He’d still been visibly recovering, a man made of shadows who sat with his little girl and her enormous curly hair clinging in wide-eyed silence to him. He’d held onto her just as tightly, as if even Finley might simply take her away if he let go for even a second. She’ll make it fucking miserable for everyone, just to get at me. She always fucking does.

Language, Jax’s father had admonished in a distant and fond way. That's one for the chocolate jar. Or two, maybe.

Jax’s child, who was so perfectly silent Finley kept forgetting she was there, had spoken for the first time. I don't mind, Daddy, she had said. She was so soft Finley barely made out the words. I know that’s grown up words. You don't have to do the jar. You can get chocolates.

Both men had smiled, then - one with open affection for his grandchild, one with a faint shift of lips that vanished as soon as Finley took it in.

Sorry, kiddo, Jax had murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. More for you, then, yeah? Finley had wondered, then, what it must feel like to love a child - to love someone that much - who only existed because of this kind of assault?

Jax had been angrier, or at least more obviously so, the first time they worked with him. After the first escape. During the first trial. The anger that had still flared up then was now a smoking skeletal forest, where you could feel heat against your palm when you laid it against the trunk of a tree, but not even embers were left to glow.

Are the little girl and the baby boy the first green things to grow afterward? Or just… bones, blackened stones weighing him down?

Shit, they need a drink. All their poetry electives from their own college days come out in florid metaphors on days like this one.

More than a drink, they need about sixteen hours of sleep. Not that Jax doesn't need both things more than they do, going through all this again, and again… they’d put it off as long as they could, but finally they’d had to ask him to fly here one more time.

This will be the last time. Finley White will stake their career on Savannah Marcoset never seeing daylight as a free woman again, or they’ll quit and take up needlepoint or whatever it is lawyers who drop the ball that badly do.

They failed him, once, in their own mind. That it could happen to him again feels like their fault, their responsibility, somehow.

Jax had been angrier, before, but less determined than he is now. He had found it much harder, then, not to look at Savvie Marcoset. As if he couldn't break himself of having all his thoughts centered on keeping her from punishing him. The way he had seemed frightened when they took her away, after the verdict, had been painful to watch.

Now he simply doesn't look at her on the screen at all.

Finley picks up the remote, scratching a fingernail over its smooth plastic surface.

Would it have been better, if they had managed to make it so she never walked free? It would have meant no second time held prisoner and therefore no children. Obviously it would have been better. Would he have chosen it, though, if he knew… chosen not to ever meet the quiet little girl and boisterous baby boy… maybe he would. Probably he would.

They would never ask.

In the present, Finley keeps their thoughts to themself. They lean forward, briefly pausing the video. “There’s a few minutes of going back and forth on this, Ms. Marcoset describing a… well, a very fanciful personal idea of the alleged wedding and honeymoon… I’m going to fast forward past it.”

“Thank fuck,” Jax mutters, scratching at the back of his head. His fingers twitch, involuntary, and he drops his hand quickly.

He didn't tremble like that the first time, either. That’s a lasting effect of the shock collar he’d been wearing when he turned up on his father's doorstep after running away with the kids. He hides the scars beneath scarves and Finley pretends they don't see them even when they do.

Those scars feel like visible evidence: Finley White fucked up, and here’s living proof. They’d gotten the conviction, decent prison time, parole within a limited area after release… and it hadn't been enough.

They’ve gone over and over the case, when they can't sleep or think about anything else. They had done a good job. They and a single paralegal, alone, had taken on the Marcoset team of defense lawyers and wiped the floor with them.

Jax seemed to think they had done a good job. Good enough that when he ran this time, he’d called them as soon as he was ready, anyway. He could have gotten a different lawyer, but he had called them, and trusted them, to put her away again.

They just have to make sure it sticks this time. For life, bar the door, throw away the goddamn key.

It was another thing Jax said first, although not in so many words - that if she ever left prison again, Jax almost certainly wouldn't survive it. He’d been hunched over a beer, that first in-person meeting at his father's place. Finley was still jet-lagged from getting on the first flight out, and nearly asleep on the sofa. He hadn't brought it up until the kids and his father were safely asleep.

If she gets out again, or… comes h-here… that's it. He hadn't looked up at them, just stared down at his beer. The kids vanish first, probably. Dead or disappeared. Whatever she thinks will fuck me up worse. Actually, probably disappeared and then dead later once she thinks-... once she’s made me sorry. Then me, after them.

Then you? Last?

Yeah. Disappeared. Or dead. Or both. But she’ll go after them first. She'll-... He drank half the beer in three long swallows, wiped a hand over his face, and then exhaled and looked over at them. She can't hurt my kids. Okay? She can't.

Finley had nodded, and lifted their own beer in a kind of grim salute. She won't. We nail her to the wall this time, Jax. I promise.

Fuck yeah. His expression stayed flat, but he clinked his beer glass against theirs and that was that, he was Finley White's once and future client one more time.

Even though the case is open and shut, they’re throwing everything they’ve got at this, leaving nothing on the table. Leaving nothing to chance or luck. They have a promise to keep.

“Our informant wore this camera to get an idea of what Mrs. Marcoset was thinking, how she was playing your disappearance from her life. It was recorded before she was arrested,” Finley explains. On the screen, Savvie's rushed dramatics are silent, her hands moving in gestures that constantly flash the ring. Her smile is absolutely radiant. She has always been a beautiful woman, layered over the cruelty beneath. “We probably won't need this at court-”

“Then why are we watching it?” He asks abruptly. Not angry or hostile, just wanting to get it all over with.

They know the feeling.

“Because I thought you might want to see this part,” They say, and hit play, the video shifting back into regular speed, the casual buzz and clink of the restaurant around them kicking back in.

“-three years old,” Savvie is saying. She is every inch the proud and loving mother, pulling out her phone and then turning it around to show the informant. “Born in… in May, named after my grandmother. Isn't she beautiful? Doesn't she look just like me?”

“This was after I left?” Jax frowns at the photo Savvie has pulled up - of Jax holding his daughter back when she was a baby who already had too much hair and eyes too big for her face. Jax, his gaunt frame dressed in slightly oversized designer clothes to hide bruises and his unreliable access to food, is looking at the camera with a false and slightly hazy-seeming smile.

“Yes,” Finley answers, nodding. “This conversation would be maybe… six months after that.”

Jax’s eyes narrow. “That photo’s of Izzy as a baby, for one thing. For another… her birthday isn't in fucking May. Jesus. I didn't know the day, she never would tell me, but I knew what season. Also, Iz was four when we got back home, and she would have turned five by… whenever this is. We got her a fucking cake, my dad and I, when she turned five."

“You are absolutely certain that-”

“Yes,” He answers them, voice flat and cold as paper on stone.

“You may have to testify about that, Jax. Good evidence of a lack of connection to Isabeh-”

“Izzy,” He corrects automatically.

“Right. Sorry. I’ve been elbow-deep in legal docs all day, everything is full legal names. This video might not be worth much during the criminal trial, but for the civil case regarding the children’s living arrangements-”

“Yeah, fine, I’ll testify. Yeah.” He snorts. “Also, I'm fucking drugged in that photo she flashed around. If that matters.”

“You are?” That's a surprise to them. They turn to rewind the video back to when the photo is held up, pausing it, scanning it over again. The slight smile, the way he gripped tight to the girl… almost white-knuckled…

“Yeah. High as hell and terrified I'll drop her. Scared that that's her game this time. Get me to let Iz slip through my arms and then get goddamn mad at me for not being careful enough. I got her to stop putting shit in my drink when the kids were awake eventually, but she was still doing it, then.”

He isn't casual with how he drops these pieces of abject horror into conversation - no, Jax wields this information like a riddle, or a test. How you respond is to pass or to fail, and Finley knows him well enough by now to be aware that very few people come back from failure.

So they nod, and wait to see if he plans to offer anything more.

He looks over at them, then back at the photo frozen in time on the screen. “Had to tell her I liked that shit, just… you know. After the kids went down to sleep.” He meets Finley’s gaze head on, staring them down.

But he knows them well enough that he knows he never has to spell any of it out, not anymore.

So they nod again. “And it worked?”

“Yeah. Mostly.” He looks away. Finley never knows for sure if they’ve passed the test, not until he keeps talking. “I could put her off with asking for it to happen later. Savvie forgets shit. Half the time by the time she went to sleep, she didn't remember she even brought it up.”

Half the time.

Finley looks back at the video, and hits the play button. Savvie is back to happily chattering about her perfect husband and perfect children, sitting in a café months after the bruised, battered, scarred man and children in question had escaped her grasping fingers and shock collars and cruelty, but before there was enough to bring her in.

She had to have known they were coming for her, by this point. And yet she pretended everything was completely fine, that nothing had happened. She was either so sure her family would throw enough weight around to fix it for her in the end, or…

“She’s completely out of her mind,” Finley whispers. Not that they hadn't said it before. But this… this is different. “She just. Can't deal with it, and so she just doesn't even acknowledge the problem exists. Jax-”

“Yeah, I know how she is. Lucky you, you didn't get that shit up close and personal like I did. This isn't even the worst of her bullshit.”

“Looking at her, you’d never know it.” Finley sits back, not allowing themself to slump. If they can pull this off, there's a four hundred dollar bottle of stupidly priced bourbon they’re going to buy to celebrate. “Look at her. No sign whatsoever of anything but happily ever after. You ran. It’s been months since she last saw you or your children… and she’s calm as can be. She doesn't even know where you are."

“She probably knew where I was.” Jax shrugs, outwardly unbothered. “I mean, she’s a stupid shitsnob, but she knows I'd go to my dad. She knew where I was gonna go if I got away from her.”

“She didn't go for you, though, didn't try to recapture you. At the time, if she knew…”

Jax gives them the stare again. “I know exactly what she did. She freaked out when we were gone, called her bastard shitstain uncle for help. He had people hunting me, until we got to the border. We barely managed to keep out of sight of them. We had to cross the border… we had to.”

“Right, because in the UK… you’re, uh-” They hesitate.

Jax prickles when they hesitate. His eyes narrow, and Finley straightens their posture, refusing to wilt before that stare. “You can say it,” He says, voice flat. “Fucking famous for being kidnapped, right? There were programmes about that shit. Fucking journalists. And I bet once we made it over the border, dear Uncle Isaac told her he wasn't going to risk it anymore, to pack her shit and go home, act normal. Be seen so she could act like she never left. See if they could wait me out.”

Sometimes they forget how watchful Jax is, how well he understands not just Savannah Marcoset herself but the parade of Marcoset family members who treated him like Savvie's toy or worse. He didn't understand it all that well the first time.

Another thing he only has to know because they couldn't keep him safe.

“Right. But that's practical... from a criminal perspective. That's not… this.” They look over at the screen again, frozen once more on Savvie's cheerful, winning smile.

“No.” Jax’s knee is bouncing again. There has always been a hum of energy in him, but even that is held more inside him now. Because they hadn't hammered their case hard enough.

It just hadn't been enough.

It has to be enough this time.

“Jax… we have to show them that Savannah Marcoset. Not the one in this video, but the one who incapacitated you to make it easier for her to harm or control you. She is going to want them to see the act, try to get parole on the table, try to get at least limited access to the children-”

“Which she won't fucking get.” For just a second, the layer of self-protective hostility drops. It’s not panic, not visibly, but it’s close. “I told you, first thing I fucking said, she can't get at my kids. The whole reason I'm fucking doing this is to keep them safe. She can't get her hands on my fucking kids.”

“No,” They say, voice firm, and meet his eyes. He scoots slightly back, arms crossed again, staring at them fixedly with his chin tipped slightly down. They watch him right back. “She won't. We talked about it, I remember. No access, full stop. No presents, no letters, she gets no photos and no updates. Absolutely nothing. Complete termination of parental rights. Complete. No exceptions."

“And prison for-fucking-life, and no parole.”

“No chance. It’s going to be rough, Jax, I won't lie to you. She’s going to put on a show, and we are going to need to systematically dismantle it. Take away all her charm and let them see who you saw, day in and day out.”

He nods, jaw set. Stubborn and determined, and maybe the fire still burns down in there somewhere. His smile is so genuine they nearly wonder if it's real. “Good. Yeah. Uh, how, though?”

They look back over at Savvie, the face filling the screen. Savvie will be magnetic, just like the first time. Not so young, now, not able to play the innocent girl led astray. But she'll play all the greatest hits of sincerity, earnestness, contrition… Jax, by contrast, is all rough edges and bristling quiet. He won't charm anyone so readily. But his story will be what actually happened.

They just need to prove it.

“I had a couple more recordings for us to look at today,” They say, thinking, mind spinning. “But they aren’t urgent. Let’s break early, you head back to see what your little ones are up to, and I'll start drafting an outline of what we prove and how we prove it. I have some ideas. We’ll reconvene here tomorrow at 8 am.”

“Sounds good, yeah.” Jax shifts, restless, ready to get out of the room with Savvie’s face still on the wall.

“Tomorrow we’re going to talk about some… difficult stuff, Jax. Make sure you take it easy tonight.”

He looks at them, then just turns away, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. “Right. Yeah. Stuff about the kids, or the rape?”

It’s a test again.

God, how Finley hopes they never fail this man, not this time. Not when they couldn't keep him as safe as he deserved to be.

“Just the outline,” They say, casual as can be. “But.. both. All of it. No details yet. But later-”

“Yeah. I’ll be back at 8. Ish.” He leaves before they can say another word, and they sit back, staring after him.

They have mountains of documents to finish sorting through, and a man carrying so much cruelty in his head that if he opens his mouth on the stand, a waterfall might come rushing out. He's covered in scars from Savvie's abuse, has two kids that are living evidence of assault. They have a traumatized little girl in therapy multiple times a week. They have Jax’s devotion to his son and daughter compared to Savvie not even knowing what time of year Izzy was born in.

They have so much.

It has to be enough.

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inorganicone2230 · 1 year

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

Finale Part 1 of 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not… upset or anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And physical touch had been the start of it.

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

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

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

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

Your libido.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N)?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And are we… discussing it?”

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

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

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

“I want to have another baby, Kai.”

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

But that’s not at all what happened…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

“You don’t want me…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And who I want, is you, Kai.”

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Kai?” You asked sweetly.

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

Finally.

—————

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

So what then could it be?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As if they were true!

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

Could they?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The End

That is a wrap folks! Purity is officially completed!

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

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

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

Thank you all, enjoy!

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mybrainproblems · 1 year

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thinking about how 5x04 birthmarks actually sets up house's childhood as being more fucked up than i think the writers intended.

like okay. to run down: john house is abusive towards his son. house deduces that his dad isn't his biological father when he's 12 and confronts him about it. as a result, his dad proceeds to not speak to him for months besides leaving notes at his bedroom door. house's belief that his dad isn't his biological father is eventually vindicated after john's death and he realizes that his mother didn't like his father much either.

which. jesus christ. can we just take a step back and let that sink in? his mother had an affair and house is the result of that. and his mom just..... lets her husband abuse her son? it doesn't sound like she really stepped in at any point to stop it and the only time we see his parents together she makes excuses for her husband's behavior. and like. house is born in 1959 so yes, it's not like his mother could easily leave her husband and i'm not saying that blythe house is evil bc it is a difficult situation given the time period, but the way the narrative frames her (lack of) action in such a passive way vs acknowledging that she's complicit is... really fucked up tbh! and i'm not saying that a victim of child abuse can't love their parents bc it's really complicated! but it's just such a weird thing to toss out there like a dead fish to fester in the sun and do absolutely nothing else with it.

i really don't know that the writers fully thought through the implications of the back story they set up even tho it ends up explaining why house puts up with a lot of really messed up shit from the people around him.

#good morning and hello! woke up thinking about this!#side bar: it's weird the only characters they constantly bring up pre-series back stories for are cameron and to a lesser extent foreman #thirteen is defined by having huntington's so her backstory comes up but not in the same way it comes up with cameron or foreman #everyone clearly had a life pre-series and currently has a personal life but only the two characters are constantly defined by their pasts #so it just makes it weirder to drop this Very Big and Serious back story for house when we don't know a lot about him even tho he's the mc #which is the same thing conan doyle did with sherlock: he has a past and it's referenced but not critical and that's *fine*#but there's really no closing the pandora's box once you've had the reveal that house is the survivor of child abuse and the product of #an affair that his mother had and she seemingly didn't step in a whole lot to stop it tho she was there for the aftermath #this rewatch is just so fascinating. i'm getting such a different experience out of it and i have no clue why.#hate crimes md #house md #gregory house

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phanficlovep5 · 9 months

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Rose and Rot

Title of Fic: Rose and Rot

Author Name: sixteenjuniper

Link to fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48254281/chapters/121693708

Ao3 Rating: M

Major content warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Your rating: 14/10

Two-Sentence Summary: Goro Akechi lives, and explores a forest where he atones by learning the stories of those he killed/aided in killing accidentally, and he helps them pass on to the realm of the dead. Ren is on the search for him: Extreme slowburn. It hurts.

Review: ITS SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO GOOD. THERES SO MUCH SYMBOLISM WITH HIM AND CROWS AND READING BOTH REN & GORO'S SIDES HURT BECAUSE REN'S WRONG AND GORO'S STILL HURTING

Submitted By: Anonymous

Approved By: Ace

Have a fanfic you'd like featured on the blog? Send us an ask to request a fanfic , or submit a review of your own!

#persona 5 fanfic #sixteenjuniper #shuake #rated m #selfharm #suicidal thoughts #past child abuse #implied/referenced suicide #mod ace #submitted by anonymous #persona 5 #fanfic review #p5phanficpositivity

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topgunruinedme · 2 years

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Screaming in Silence

Summary: If anyone asked Jake how four words had impacted his life, he wouldn't have been able to tell them.

FebWhump Prompt - Day 12: "Can you hear me?".

No one questioned Jake about his tattoo, he knew it was weird. It was unusual, worrying for people who didn't understand it. He had been asked to see a psychologist and he had seen the odd looks people give him.

But no one knew the significance behind those four words. The four words that had changed his life forever. The four words that had been the first thing that wasn’t shouted in abuse at him.

From the cop who gently pulled him out from under his bed and wrapped him in his own jacket.

‘Seresin’

The man who saved his life, who took him away from his abusive foster home, who adopted him and gave him a life he had once thought could only happen in a fairy tale.

It all started with four words. “Can you hear me?”.

It started when he was 7. Hiding under his bed terrified as the police raided the house, his foster parents were screaming and flailing making a fuss.

Jake held his breath as a pair of black boots stopped In front of his bed. He pressed himself back further against the wall. The shine of the flashlight the man was holding was pointed at the floor.

He watched in bated breaths as the man knelt down carefully and sucked his head under the bed.

Jake stared at him terrified, his chest caving under the stress of breathing and his heart pounded as every instinct in his body told him to run. To fight, to escape this hell he was trapped in.

“Can you hear me?” The man asked gently with a small smile, he seemed generous perhaps if Jake was compliment he would receive less of a beating.

With a jolty head movement he nodded in his cramped space under the bed.

The man looked around before moving back, providing him more space between them.

Ensuring he didn’t feel crowded, Jake realized in awe.

“Hey bud, can you come out for me?” He asked softly, Jake watched the man lower the flashlight to see him more clearly. It was pointed away from him but the light still made him wince.

The cop grimaced “Sorry buddy, I can’t do much about that. I have to be able to see you”.

He shifted so he was down on his stomach copying Jake's position, urging the boy out softly, both of them attempting to ignore the yelling and sound of things crashing in the other room. It was slightly muffled, as the man extended a hand out to him.

Jake flinched, yanking himself away from the man watching the man tentatively for any movement that could hint towards the man hitting him. He found none.

The man patiently waited for Jake to examine him before Jake shook his head at him, his eyes filled with terror, no he couldn’t go with him. They would take him, it would be worse, so much worse.

“No?” The officer asked “That's alright we can stay here”. He seemed almost laid back, keeping his hand extended out as an olive branch as he rested his chin on top of his hand just watching. Waiting. “My name is David Seresin, I’m an Officer for LAPD. What’s your name?”

Jake shifted uncomfortably “Jacob” he said quietly biting down the the feeling of a car to heavy tongue and cottonmouth,

“Jacob” David tilted his head “That’s a nice name, so you like it?”

Thinking through all the abuse and names his fosters had screamed at him, he shook his head nervously.

David smiled calmly at him “Would you rather me call you something else?”

“Jay?” He requested hesitantly. He had always been ‘Jacob’, ‘that boy’, ‘Foster’. He had never had a nickname before.

“Alright Jay, why don’t we get you out from under there now yeah?” David smiled, wiggling his fingers enticingly.

Hesitantly Jay reached out clawing their hand together letting David lead him out from Under the bed watching the man’s slow calculated movements carefully as the man helped him stand. Shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around him. It was heavy on his shoulders far too big, then again he was far too small for his age.

“Come on kid, let’s get you out of here” David wrapped an arm around him protectively as he led him out of the house that had housed his own personal hell.

He let David walk him out to a new leaf off his life. The better half, the half where David took him in and encouraged his love for flying. It was a slow process but he was there, every event, every graduation without fail, right up until he got shot in the line of duty.

Jake stood in front of David’s body laying on a slab, his hand pulled back the sheet and brushed the stray lock of hair off his fathers check.

David always hated how wild his hair was, he was cold to the touch. He had gone out saving a friend, a colleague. Just as he would have wanted too, he had saved another person.

It all started with 4 words, “Can you hear me?”.

#Implied/Referenced Child Abuse #child abuse #past child abuse #hurt/comfort #POV Jake “Hangman” Seresin #Hurt Jake “Hangman” Seresin #febwhump #hangman fanfiction #hangman fic #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #hangman angst

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wangxianficrecs · 2 years

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Follower Recs

~*~

I don’t know if this has already been rec’ed, but Nursery Rhymes by Maniaka hit me so hard. It’s beautifully done and I just wanted to shout from the rooftops that people should read it. Forgive me if this is not the proper rooftop. @anxiousdemonspirit

Nursery Rhymes

by manaika

(M, 96k, complete, wangxian, nielan, xuanli, songxiao)

Summary: Lan Xichen is a pediatrician who often treats child abuse cases for various foster homes, orphanages and social workers for free. He's currently looking for a second nurse because Luo Qingyang is freshly back from maternal leave and can't be expected to work full time with a baby on hand and none of her substitutes were up to the task. Enter Wei Ying with a semester worth of med school, stellar recommendations, a huge gap in his CV and a laugh bright and warm as the sun. Skeptical at first, Xichen decides to give the man a chance. He gets more than he bargained for with exactly zero regrets.

@by-mana

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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bloody-bee-tea · 29 days

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You're not a pet

This follows after No more soup, so you should read that first but the run down is as follows: Hizashi finds a ten-year-old Hitoshi muzzled on his way home and gets himself involved enough to get the kid away from his abusive foster family and take him home. From then on it’s just a lot of trial and error for the three of them and this is just one of those instances.

Hitoshi refuses to let his hands shake as he packs his bag. It’s—fine. It’s what he has to do, he knows that. The incident last week has shown him that he has to, there’s no way about it.

Yamada-san and Aizawa-san are clearly not going to send him away, like they should, like they need to, so it’s on him to bring it up. He waited all week for them to bring it up, but they didn’t and so it falls to him to say something first.

He can’t stay with them; he’s dangerous, his quirk is dangerous and they don’t take enough precaution to protect themselves. And Hitoshi likes them too much to put them in any more danger than this.

He’d rather go back to his previous foster family than to stay here and endanger the only two nice people he has ever met in his life. Hitoshi can stomach being locked in a closet, he can accept the muzzle and beatings and starvation as long as it means that Yamada-san and Aizawa-san are safe.

Safe from him, safe from his quirk and his villainous tendencies and the danger he brought into their nice home.

It’s totally fine and Hitoshi’s hands are not shaking. Not at all.

If he gets lucky, then maybe he can still get weekly visits with them, somewhere public, where Hitoshi’s slip ups would be noticed immediately, maybe with supervision or something. He’ll have to remember only to talk to Yamada-san, so that Aizawa-san can erase his quirk when he inadvertently takes control of Yamada-san, so they can be safe and Hitoshi would be alright with that. They don’t enforce that rule at home, have even told Hitoshi that they expect him to talk to both of them, but once he no longer lives with them he’ll have to make sure to never slip up in that regard again.

If he sees them once a week that would still be better than nothing and Hitoshi has learned ages ago that he needs to be grateful for the little things. Little things are better than nothing after all and still more than he deserves.

So he packs. He almost has a break-down when he realises that he can’t fit everything into his bag because he owns more than he ever has before and that means he has to make decisions on what to take and what to leave behind and it’s enough to make him hyperventilate into the soft purple sweater Yamada-san gifted him.

He has to leave it behind, he knows that, because it’s not practical and therefore has no right taking up space in his bag of necessities and it would also be considered a luxury where he goes and luxuries are not permitted.

Not for Hitoshi.

It takes him almost longer to calm down from his momentary panic than to pack everything up and when it’s all done, everything he might need in his new home packed away, he has to sit with the closed bag for a moment.

That, too, was a gift from Yamada-san and Hitoshi never understood why he insisted on Hitoshi having it but maybe it was for this all along. Maybe Yamada-san already knew that Hitoshi would leave them eventually and simply wanted him to be prepared for it.

Still, it’s nice to have this bag. He used to have to stuff his things into a trash bag so this is definitely a step up.

Hitoshi takes one last look around the room—his for only a few hours longer—and when he’s certain that he has everything he needs he takes a fortifying breath.

It’s time.

There’s no reason to drag this out any more, to put them into danger any longer and so his knees only barely shake when he steps out into the hallway.

Yamada-san and Aizawa-san are in the living-room, on the laptop and grading papers respectively, and Hitoshi just hopes that he won’t keep them for too long from it. He knows that they are both incredibly busy and they need every minute they can get, so Hitoshi promises himself to keep it brief and short. Half an hour max. It should be doable; he should be able to convince them in that time to get rid of him. It’s never been hard before, after all.

Yamada-san is the first to look up at him and he smiles as if Hitoshi isn’t a villain, as if he isn’t a monster clad in breakable skin, and it almost makes him throw up.

“Hey there, little listener. You wanna join us?”

It’s enough to make Aizawa-san look up as well and a silent counter starts up in the back of Hitoshi’s head. He’s already wasted ten seconds of their time by the time he finds his voice to speak.

“I want you to give me back,” he states, his hands clenched in the hem of his shirt but he keeps his head high.

He has to make them understand that this is for the best and if he seems scared or sad then he’ll have to fight them on this. And he desperately doesn’t want to do that.

Hitoshi watches how Aizawa-san and Yamada-san exchange a look before they both give him their full attention.

It’s been more than a minute by now. He’s wasting time.

“Come again?” Aizawa-san finally says and Hitoshi takes a deep breath that totally doesn’t rattle in his chest.

“I want you to give me back.”

“Kiddo, that sounds like you’re some kind of pet we adopted on accident,” Yamada-san says and Hitoshi nods, because he might just be.

He’s like a dangerous dog, going to snap without so much as a warning, when all Yamada-san and Aizawa-san deserve is a cute little kitten they can dote on and cuddle without the fear of him going for their throats.

Hitoshi doesn’t allow himself to think about the cats he’ll also be leaving behind because he knows he’s not strong enough to go on if he does. So he simply concentrates on the two men in front of him.

“You didn’t know what you were getting yourselves into, so it’s alright,” Hitoshi reassures them because they both don’t seem convinced. “I know my previous foster family isn’t available for me anymore, but there has to be a group home nearby, or a correction center even, whatever takes me off your hands faster.”

“Your previous foster family isn’t around anymore because they are behind bars on account of child abuse, Hitoshi,” Aizawa-san says and Hitoshi presses his lips together.

It’s unfortunate, because at least with them Hitoshi would know what to expect but ultimately it doesn’t matter. He had to adjust to a new house so often he’s basically a pro at it by this point. He’ll figure out what’s allowed and what’s not, what the rules are, and which punishments are easiest to take. It won’t be a problem.

“A group home then,” Hitoshi tries next and again, Yamada-san and Aizawa-san share a look between them before Yamada-san pats the space next to him on the couch.

“Why don’t you come sit and explain to us why we should ‘give you back’, as you framed it?” he asks and Hitoshi can’t bring himself to move.

It’s too close to them, too dangerous for them to have him that close—even though his quirk is voice activated, even though there’s nothing physical he could do to them—so he stays right where he is.

The knowledge that they are not safe with him at all, even with distance hits him hard and his hands tremble with the effort to not clasp them over his mouth. He still doesn’t know enough sign language to properly express himself, to make them understand just how dangerous he is, and writing it all out would take too long, would mean he steals even more time from them, so for now he has to put it into words and make very, very sure that he doesn’t activate his quirk on accident.

He almost asks Aizawa-san to use his quirk on him, just as a precaution, but he knows how draining it is no him, how it leaves his eyes hurting and Hitoshi doesn’t want to hurt them. That’s the whole point of this.

“Or you can sit in the arm chair, if you’re more comfortable there,” Aizawa-san says when he doesn’t move or speak and the illusion of distance, the illusion of keeping them safe that way is enough to finally get him to move.

He doesn’t like the way they both look at him, as if they are unsure, but he reminds himself that it’s not for much longer. They won’t have to deal with him much longer and they will be happier for it, Hitoshi thinks as he sees the frown on Aizawa-san’s face and notes the downturned corners of Yamada-san’s mouth.

“Okay, care to explain where this is coming from?” Aizawa-san leans forward on the couch as he speaks, his whole attention fixed on Hitoshi even though there’s work right in front of him.

Three minutes now, maybe even more. He probably could have checked an entire page in that time and still Hitoshi is wasting even more.

“I’m dangerous. You have to give me back.”

They only blink at him, and in a startling moment of clarity Hitoshi knows what he has to do to make them understand even though it makes him sick to his core to admit it. It’s his last refuge; if he tells them and they note it down in his file then he’ll never be allowed to speak at all.

And still, it’s the only thing to do to make them understand.

“I lied to you,” he tells them and he pretends that he doesn’t notice how his voice shakes. “I don’t need to ask a question to activate my quirk. Every response I get to something I said is enough.”

He expects them to rear back in surprise, to try to get away from him as soon as possible or to get out a muzzle they kept hidden somewhere in the apartment but Yamada-san and Aizawa-san simply continue to stare at him.

“We figured as much when you took control of Shouta last week,” Yamada-san gives back and Hitoshi flinches.

“Then why did you continue to talk to me?” he demands to know because if they know how dangerous he is, why didn’t they send him away sooner? Why did they continue to converse with him as if nothing could happen?

Why did they make him bring this up?

“We wanted to give you more time to acclimate to living here. And because we trust you,” Aizawa-san simply states as if that isn’t enough to flay Hitoshi wide open. “You never took control of us before, never took control of anyone maliciously as far as we know, and we allowed you to use your quirk if you ever felt unsafe. You were in the middle of a panic attack and clearly felt more than unsafe, so it was completely in your right to protect yourself however you saw fit.”

“I’m dangerous,” Hitoshi whispers out because he doesn’t understand anything anymore but he has to make them send him away, no matter what.

It’s more than clear to him that they don’t know how to care for themselves and they are too nice to fall prey to Hitoshi.

He ruins everything and he doesn’t want to ruin them, too. They deserve better.

“Dangerous how?” Yamada-san wants to know and Hitoshi wonders if they are just pretending, if this is a test to see if he knows just how dangerous he is or if they really somehow missed this.

He hopes it’s the former, because the latter is unthinkable—they are pro heroes, they have to notice potential risks.

“I can take control of you at any time. I can—” Hitoshi has to swallow back bile before he’s able to continue because just thinking about what he could do, what he can do is making him sick. “I can make you hurt each other. I could make you kill each other.”

He’s not sure what kind of reaction he expected but it’s certainly not Aizawa-san huffing out a laugh.

“Kid, if the capability of hurting someone disqualifies you from having a family, from people caring about you, loving you, then we’re all fucked.”

Hitoshi doesn’t understand and it’s Yamada-san who speaks next.

“Of the three of us, you’re the least dangerous, Hitoshi.”

Hitoshi shakes his head, because it’s not true, his quirk is dangerous and evil and he doesn’t understand how they don’t get it.

“I could—”

“But you wouldn’t,” Aizawa-san interrupts him. “Yes, you could. You could do what you just said, and even worse, but you wouldn’t. Because that’s not who you are, kid.”

“My quirk is dangerous,” Hitoshi desperately says and Yamada-san shakes his head.

“It really isn’t, kiddo. My quirk is dangerous, so I would know. I could kill you with a well-placed hum. If I lose even a little bit of control I could liquify both of your insides and turn you into a jelly pouch.”

“Disgusting,” Aizawa-san huffs out and Yamada-san gives him a smirk before he simply goes on.

“If I get angry and shout I could level this entire block. I’m sorry to say, but your quirk really has nothing on that."

“I could kill you in two different ways without even having to step away from the couch,” Aizawa-san neatly takes over. “I wouldn’t even have to use my quirk; if I manage to get close to you there are too many ways to count.”

“You don’t understand,” Hitoshi gasps out, even though he is the one who doesn’t understand right now. “My quirk—”

“Takes control of someone,” Yamada-san says. “It makes them freeze up. It’s scary, to not be in control of your own body anymore, but that’s about it. For something bad to happen you have to decide to voice that out loud, to make that a command. And Hitoshi, you’re a sweetheart. You would never. Even when you were scared and panicked all you did was order Shouta to get away from you. That’s not something a dangerous or evil person would do.”

Hitoshi doesn’t know why everything is starting to get blurry but he can’t let that deter him. He needs to make them understand.

“I lied to you. I lied to everyone.”

“With good reason, kiddo. You already went through hell when everyone thought your quirk is activated with a question. I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened if people knew it worked with everything you said. You just made sure to protect yourself and that was very smart of you.”

“And from what we’ve heard you never slipped up. You never took control of someone by accident, which means your control is amazing. Which is just another reason why you’re not dangerous, Hitoshi.”

Aizawa-san sounds as if he’s proud of him and Hitoshi just doesn’t understand.

“You don’t understand, you don’t get it, I’m dangerous! I’m dangerous and evil and I’m going to be a villain and you have to give me back!”

“Why?”

“Because you’re too nice to be settled with me,” Hitoshi whispers out. Because he doesn’t deserve to have something good in his life and they don’t deserve to have something rotten in theirs.

“Then make us,” Aizawa-san says and Hitoshi’s head flies up.

“What?”

“Take control of us and order us to bring you to the nearest group home,” Aizawa-san says again and Hitoshi’s breath starts to come out faint and fast.

“I can’t,” he gasps out and Aizawa-san nods as if he didn’t expect anything else.

“Why not? It’s easy. I’m responding to you all the time. Why not simply do it?”

“Because I can’t. It’s not right! I would never—”

“Exactly,” Yamada-san cuts in and gives Hitoshi a reassuring smile. “You would never. And that’s all we need to know. You’re not dangerous, kiddo. You’re not evil or cruel or anything else that might have been said about you. You’re a kid with a quirk and you’re doing your best to control it. And you’re amazing at that. And even if you were to slip up, you’re too sweet to make us do anything bad. There is nothing for us to be afraid of.”

He says it with such conviction that it leaves Hitoshi floundering and for a few moments he can do nothing but breathe. The time at the back of his mind is still going, so he knows that they let him try to wrestle control back for almost two minutes before Aizawa-san speaks up again.

“Hitoshi, can I hug you?” he asks and Hitoshi jerks with the visceral need that evokes in him.

He never liked being touched, never imagined someone wanting to touch him without the intent of hurting him but these two have flipped his entire world on its head and he’s almost mad at them for it because now he craves it.

“Please,” he chokes out and he doesn’t even see Aizawa-san move before strong arms wrap around him and usually that would make him panic again, but Aizawa-san keeps his arms gentle around him and he has done this enough times for Hitoshi to recognise him from the touch alone and so he can only concentrate on the warmth of the embrace.

He leans into the body in front of him, buries his face in Aizawa-san’s chest and Hitoshi isn’t sure why he deserves this, why they are still willing to allow him this but he doesn’t want to argue with them any further.

It already took all of his strength to bring this up in the first place and he doesn’t have it in him to do it again.

He jerks in surprise when another hand settles on his back, but he quickly relaxes when he realises that it’s Yamada-san.

“Hitoshi, we will not give you back. We’re very happy to have you here and we have never regretted taking you in for a moment. Not once. We’re not scared of you.”

It’s enough to rip a sob from Hitoshi and still they stay close instead of yelling at him to get a grip and shut up. They allow him to cry and cry and cry and not once do they give any indication that he’s an inconvenience to them even though he ruined their entire evening.

The timer ran out once it hit the thirty minutes Hitoshi set himself as the deadline and he can’t find it in him to mind that. Not when Aizawa-san is still holding him and Yamada-san is still stroking his hand up and down his back.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually sobs out and Aizawa-san hums.

“You have nothing to apologise for, kid,” he reassures him and Hitoshi almost doesn’t trust it, because he always has something to apologise for even if it’s only his general existence, but Aizawa-san sounds certain and sincere and maybe Hitoshi can trust it.

Can trust them.

“I don’t want to leave,” he admits quietly, almost hoping that his words get swallowed by the fabric his face is still pressed into but of course they pick up on it.

“Then you won’t,” Yamada-san says, as if it could be as easy as that and it brings new tears to Hitoshi’s eyes. “You’ll stay right here with us.”

It’s a promise as much as it is a reassurance and it almost makes Hitoshi cry again.

He gives himself another minute before he pulls away from Aizawa-san. He lets him go easily, though he does keep a hand on his shoulder, just like Yamada-san keeps his hand on his back and they don’t look at him with hatred and contempt.

They seem worried, if anything, and Hitoshi has a hard time wrapping his head around that.

“Sorry for ruining your evening,” he mutters out as he rubs away stray tears.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Yamada-san immediately says and he gives Hitoshi a blinding smile.

It used to be too much, seemed almost scary to Hitoshi in the beginning, but now it only makes him feel warm. Just like Aizawa-san’s steady gaze.

“Are you feeling okay?” Aizawa-san wants to know and Hitoshi nods, not sure if his voice will hold after crying for that long. “Do you understand that we have no intention of sending you back?”

It’s still almost unfathomable to Hitoshi that they don’t, that they haven’t even thought about it, that they don’t care about his quirk and what he can do. There’s still that nagging thought that he needs to decide it for them, that he needs to take care of them because they are clearly too nice to do the hard things themselves, but maybe—

Maybe he can trust this. Maybe they are sincere.

It takes him a bit longer to nod this time, but they only patiently wait until Hitoshi finally manages it.

“We’ll make sure to remind you,” Yamada-san says, patting his back because he clearly noticed Hitoshi’s hesitation and even Aizawa-san’s face softens into an almost smile.

“As often as you need to hear it,” he adds as if it isn’t at all annoying to have to remind Hitoshi again and again, as if he has memory problems.

“You don’t have to do that,” he croaks out, because he’s already enough of an inconvenience for them but apparently they don’t think like that.

“But we want to,” Aizawa-san easily says and wipes away a stray tear trailing down Hitoshi’s cheek. “Now, I’m thinking some tea for us and Hizashi can order some take-out, huh? How does that sound?”

“Good,” Hitoshi mutters, because his throat is scratch from crying and now that the dread of what is to come is gone, he feels kind of hungry.

“I’ll make sure to order your favourite,” Yamada-san promises Hitoshi with a pat of his head before he leaves for the kitchen and Hitoshi marvels at the knowledge that he means exactly that.

Yamada-san knows his favourite food and he doesn’t order something Hitoshi hates for the fun of it and then forces him to eat it and it’s a novelty that fills Hitoshi with warmth.

“We trust you, Hitoshi,” Aizawa-san says when Yamada-san is gone and Hitoshi almost instinctively tenses up at that, because he knows how this goes, what comes next.

So make sure not to disappoint us.

It’s a useless warning, because Hitoshi always disappoints everyone in the end.

“So trust us as well,” Aizawa-san goes on and it’s surprising enough to make Hitoshi freeze.

It almost doesn’t compute, what Aizawa-san says but it’s clear he’s waiting for a response so Hitoshi forces his mouth open, unsure what’s going to come out.

He wasn’t prepared for it to be a vulnerable truth.

“I want to,” he admits and he feels raw with how much he wants. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” Aizawa-san says it as if Hitoshi has given him a wonderful gift and Hitoshi ducks his head.

He doesn’t know how to handle that look, doesn’t know how to handle any of this, but maybe he can learn. Maybe Aizawa-san and Yamada-san will be there to teach him and to make him understand.

It’s a nice thought and when Aizawa-san hands Hitoshi a mug—his favourite, the purple one with a cat face on it—and ruffles his hair as well and then offers him the seat right next to him on the couch without expecting anything, without pressuring Hitoshi, he finally allows himself to hope.

Maybe he can trust them.

Not completely, not immediately, but enough to take the offer and carefully settle himself next to Aizawa-san, who gives him one of his rare almost-smiles before he goes back to grading.

It’s not long before Yamada-san comes back, promising them both that he ordered all of their favourites and when he inclines his head in a silent question, asking if it’s okay if he sits next to Hitoshi, he finds himself nodding.

It earns him another blinding smile before Yamada-san’s weight settles next to him and Hitoshi thinks that maybe he can do this.

Maybe he can be good, and trust and stay.

He would like that.

#bt writes #bnha #mha #erasermic #shinsou hitoshi #yamada hizashi #aizawa shouta #erasermic adopt shinsou hitoshi #referenced/past child abuse #hurt/comfort

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excelsiorfics · 5 months

Text

And I believe that yeah, dad, maybe no one is perfect. But I believe that you are pushing your luck.

Date: March 7, 2023 Author: thequiver Rating: Teen Word Count/Status: 10,079, complete Dynamic: David Haller & Pietro Maximoff, David Haller & Kurt Wagner, Lorna Dane & Kevin MacTaggert, Theresa Cassidy & Wanda Maximoff, Lorna Dane & Kurt Wagner, Theresa Cassidy & Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Rogue, David Haller & Kevin MacTaggert, Rogue & Kevin MacTaggert Characters: David Haller, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Lorna Dane, Rogue, Kurt Wagner, Theresa Cassidy, Kevin MacTaggert Tags: past abuse, implied/referenced child abuse, child death, implied/referenced child death, past alcohol abuse/alcoholism, medical trauma, Daddy Issues, Angst and Feels

Summary:

“I have this dream that I am hitting my dad with a baseball bat/ And he is screaming and crying for help/ And maybe halfway through it has more to do with me killing him/ Than it ever did protecting myself/ And I believe that yeah, dad, maybe no one is perfect/ But I believe that you are pushing your luck.” - Father, The Front Bottoms ————— The Krakoan Era was meant to hallmark a new period of unity for mutant kind, but not everyone is accepted, and not everyone feels welcome. Old connections are reformed and new connections made, while other bonds deteriorate much faster than they were formed. David Haller, Lorna Dane, Rogue, Kurt Wagner, Kevin MacTaggert, Theresa Cassidy, and Pietro and Wanda Maximoff find themselves struggling to understand these changes as their lives are shaped by the island.

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steddieassheg0es · 8 months

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Jump in the Fire

Eddie Munson doesn’t know how to listen to good sense. Don’t go flirting with pretty boys. Definitely don’t go falling for pretty boys. Don’t go poking around where you don’t belong. Don’t go back into the mall where a giant spider monster is trying to kill your friends… Or: a story of how Eddie Munson stumbles into something so much bigger than he ever planned by walking into Scoops Ahoy. Read or listen on AO3

Author: Me :) @steddieassheg0es / SteddieAsSheGoes AO3

Podfic and Cover art by : @n0connections / NoConnections AO3

Thank you so much to @steddiebang for the Steddie Big Bang 2023, I'm so thrilled to have been involved!

And a HUGE thank you to @n0connections for choosing my fic, creating an amazing podfic, and having endless patience with my temperamental writer brain. I couldn't have done it without you.

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snowdice · 9 days

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Little Kestrel (Part 54) [Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb, sexual coercion of minors implied, a minor offering sexual favors

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apples’ saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.

With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risking being kicked, had become his de facto tutor.

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.

Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with his rider.

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”

Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.

“I hear you’re going to go riding today,” King Thomas said.

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.

“Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”

Well, that was fair.

“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.

“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if Virgil let slip he was an assassin somehow.”

“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”

“Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.

Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”

Patton bit his lip.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.

Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”

“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.

“I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”

Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.

“We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded.

Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella.

The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain it as well as it was right now.

Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife.

However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride.

He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close).

Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly.

He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him.

“But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked.

“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again.

“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied.

“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.”

“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied.

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone.

“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said.

Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument.

“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.”

“Why?”

This seemed to stump the king momentarily, but he still answered after thinking for a bit. “Doves existed before people got to them,” the king explained. “People caught and trained some of them, but there was no way to catch all of them. So, some stayed in the wild and continued with their lives like they had been before humans. Plus, sometimes domesticated doves fly off and never come back. Sometimes they might die, but other times they may have just gotten lost and had to build a new life somewhere far away. Or maybe they even decided that being a trained dove working for humans wasn’t for them, so they decided to go off on their own.”

“You let them do that?” Virgil asked.

“We can’t really stop them in the end,” the king said. “People can try, but it never ends up working as long as they can fly.”

Virgil thought about this. “I still don’t understand,” he said, “but okay.”

“We should take you to the cliffs,” the king suggested.

“What are the cliffs?”

“The castle grounds were built for defense,” King Thomas explained. “The edge of the grounds to the North is a large river and overlooking it is a huge cliff. It’s a good place for picnics and for birdwatching. It’s a bit of a trip, but now would be a good time of year to go.”

He glanced over his shoulder back at Logan and Patton. “What do you boys think about going to the cliffs sometime? Maybe in about a week?”

Logan squinted at his father suspiciously. It wasn’t so much the fact that the king was asking them to go to the cliffs. They did that every so often. However, this time, it only supported Logan’s claims that the king was hanging out with them a lot recently.

“Sure,” Logan said, after a moment.

“Sounds fun!” Patton said cheerily right after, trying to cover for the lack of enthusiasm in Logan’s voice with his own. Judging by King Thomas’s expression and Logan’s tight-lipped scowl, he may have overcompensated.

“Great,” the king said. “I’ll make sure to make arrangements when we get back to the castle.”

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samtheacesheep · 1 year

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Work Description:

Melissa can’t handle her guilt after being reprogrammed to hurt her friends. She tries to persuade them to take precautions in case she is controlled again, even though she is terrified.

#whumpril2023 #whumprilday16 #guilt #minor whump #past child abuse #implied/referenced torture #trauma #mml dystopia au #I wrote a thing

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faofinn · 2 years

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22 & 23. Common Cold/Flu & Tepid Bath

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

@sicktember

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What time is your first lesson?”

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

“Have you checked the time?”

"My alarm went off."

“And you’re wearing that?”

"It's clean."

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

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

“Go back to bed, Harrison.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just half an hour, that's all."

“Sure, if that’s what you want.”

"Yeah." He sniffed, his determination and energy gone.

“Go on, to bed with you. I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”

"Thank you." He gave a weak smile. Steve always knew how to make it better. Bed sounded great, and he dropped his backpack on the floor, slowly padding upstairs.

Steve shook his head fondly, going to the kitchen to make Harrison’s hot chocolate. He’d want it, and hopefully it would make him feel better. The last thing Steve wanted was him getting any worse - the admission the last time he’d been sick had been absolutely terrifying.

Harrison didn't bother changing out of his clothes, though shuffled out of his jeans. He wrapped himself up in his duvet and blankets, his little excursion downstairs having tired him out and made him cold to the bone.

Steve came up after a few minutes, knocking on the door before he pushed it open and headed inside. “Hot chocolate. Have you had any meds?”

Harrison was barely visible through his cocoon, but he shook his head. He’d had none in his room, and hadn't wanted to go downstairs or disturb Steve.

Steve tutted. “I’ll go and get some.”

"Do you have to?"

“It’ll make you feel better.”

"Okay." He said quietly, taking Steve's bribe of hot chocolate.

"I'll be right back." Steve promised, grabbing some paracetamol and a thermometer while he was there. A bottle of water wouldn't harm either, so he brought one up with him, knocking again before entering.

"Hars? Got you some meds and some water to take them with."

Harrison jumped slightly, having drifted with the silence. He reached for his chocolate again, swallowing the meds with a grimace. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Can I take your temperature? You look really flushed."

"Do you have to?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so." Steve said gently, sitting on the side of the bed.

Harrison sighed heavily. "Okay."

Steve patted Harrison's leg, shooting him an encouraging smile. He was quick to check his temperature, frowning at the numbers.

"Let me check the other ear." He'd hoped it was a mistake, but he knew it wouldn't be much different.

Unfortunately, it was even higher than the first, and he sighed heavily. They really didn't need him being this sick again.

"That bad?" There was a flash of panic across Harrison's face.

"You've just got a fever, kid. Just means your body is fighting off what it needs to do. But, it does mean you can't be swamped by your duvets. I can get you a sheet instead?" He offered.

Fear settled in his features. "No. I need the duvet. I need my blankets."

"Hey, it's okay. It's just to keep your temperature down. Just like taking a cool shower or bath, it just makes sure you're not going to overheat." Steve kept it simple, aware Harrison wasn't entirely firing on all cylinders. "Tell you what, eh? You can keep your duvet but you need to keep it at your feet or by your side. You're not allowed to wrap yourself up in it, okay?"

Harrison hesitated. Steve had just told him he wasn't allowed it, he hadn't dragged it from his grip, hurt him to try and get them away. He took a deep breath, and slowly pushed it to his feet.

"There you go. Thank you, Harrison. I know it's not nice to take it off when you feel rubbish. I'll let you get some more sleep, okay?"

"'kay." Harrison nodded, snuggling under the blanket he'd been allowed. "Thank you."

Steve left Harrison to sleep, hoping that just being under the thin blanket would be enough to stop him getting hotter. He really was worried about the kid, all too aware how it had ended before. His chest seemed okay, at least, just the fever that was concerning. Surely the sleep would help, as would the meds and the water. It was just a waiting game, hoping his body would fight off whatever he’d picked up. Didn’t help that he’d been so run down, the alcohol certainly not helping him.

A few hours later, Steve returned. Harrison had been quiet, hopefully sleeping, and he knocked on the door again before he stepped inside.

“Harrison?” He asked gently.

He stirred slightly, squinting at Steve. He didn’t quite understand why he was so insistent on pestering him.

“Can I check your temp again?”

"No."

“Please?”

"No." He whined. "I wanna sleep."

“It’ll take two seconds, and then you can sleep again.”

He groaned, pulling the sheet over his head. "No."

“Come on, Harrison.”

"Steve, please."

“I just want to check it’s come down.”

"It has."

“I don’t know unless I check.”

"Fine." Harrison was always more agreeable when Steve was around, and he couldn’t help but try and do what he wanted.

“Thank you.” Steve said gently, pulling the blanket back.

The lack of blanket made it so much colder, the small pocket of warmth quickly dissipated. He whined despite himself, burying his face in his pillow as he curled up tighter.

“I know.” Steve soothed. “Just check your temp, won’t take long.” He said as he did it.

"It's better?"

“Afraid not.” Steve said. It was worse, but he wasn’t about to tell Harrison that, he didn’t want to panic the poor kid.

"Oh. Okay. More sleep, then."

“How are you feeling?”

"Cold."

He hummed. “Your temperature is pretty high.”

"That's okay."

“No, it’s not.”

"I'll fix it."

“Oh?”

"Yeah." He settled back down. "It's all fixed now."

“Not sure I share your confidence.”

"That's a shame."

“Here, let me check again.”

"You just checked."

“I need to double check.”

"No you don't."

“I do.”

"I'm asleep."

“Funny, talking whilst you’re asleep.”

"You can check it later."

“If you’re asleep I could just do it now.”

"No."

Steve huffed. “You’re not well.”

He couldn't help the tears that started falling. "I'm sorry."

“Hey, don’t cry.”

"'m cold and you won't let me sleep an' you keep taking my blankets."

“Alright, I know. But you’re far too warm.”

"I'm not."

“You really are.”

Harrison shivered as if to prove his point, managing to push himself up and into Steve's side.

Steve wrapped his arm around him. “I know you feel miserable.”

"A lot."

“Yeah. You’ve got a bad temp.”

"I'm cold." He murmured, snuggling in properly.

Steve sighed, patting him on the shoulder. “Alright. Get some sleep. I’ll pop back later.”

"No." He said quickly. "Don't go."

Steve softened. “Oh. I’ll stay.”

Harrison gave a quiet, happy noise. "Thank you."

Steve settled down to sit with him, still worried but glad Harrison wanted his comfort.

Harrison slept for a while, only growing increasingly warm by Steve's side. At first, it was quiet, but soon enough the nightmares leached into his dreams. He struggled against the sheets, whimpering and crying quietly. Nothing changed, and his nightmares only grew worse, the fever only adding more power to them. He woke with a shout, trying to make himself smaller, to keep himself safe.

Steve hated Harrison’s nightmares. He felt so powerless to do anything about them, unable to wake him and worried as he got hotter and hotter. He managed to get the blanket off of him, hoping that would at least help, but he doubted it would make much of a difference.

“Harrison?” He said gently, once he’d shouted himself awake. “It’s alright, you’re okay.”

He fought against Steve, torn between trying to get away and trying to disappear into the bed. His cries and pleads didn't make sense, talking to people that weren't there.

He was much, much worse than before. Steve’s stomach twisted with nerves and he sighed. “Alright. We really ought to get you cooled down.”

Harrison pushed at Steve's hands, uncoordinated and weak. He was already cold, and couldn't understand how Steve didn't get it. He was supposed to be smart.

Harrison’s skin was so hot it almost burned. Steve didn’t have much of a choice, he needed to cool him down, else he was going to end up in hospital again. Harrison was too agitated for him to bother with trying to take another temperature, and instead he just scooped him up in his arms and carried him to the bathroom.

His heart almost stopped as Steve carried him onto the bathroom, suddenly gaining strength. He writhed and fought against Steve's arms, begging him to stop. After everything, Steve was going to kill him.

Luckily Steve was stronger than Harrison, still skinny and weak. He kept him close to his chest, his heart breaking as the teenager fought him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m gonna help, I swear.”

Harrison gripped tightly onto Steve's shirt, tears streaming down his face. He'd turned to begging, trying anything to stop it.

Steve hated it, apologising constantly as he turned the tap on and waited for it to warm up a little before he set Harrison in the tub. Clearly he was upset, and ordinarily he’d never push him this hard to do something that was this upsetting, but it needed doing. He let the water run over his legs, cupping his hands to trail it over his back. “It’s okay, I promise you’re going to be okay.”

Harrison screamed as the water touched him, trying his best to arch away from it, his hands clawing at Steve's chest. He couldn’t breathe, and each drop of water burned his skin.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please." He begged, his words split by sobs. "Dad, please, I'm sorry. I'll be good. Please."

Steve’s throat tightened, and he tried his best to keep Harrison’s face from getting wet. He knew he’d fucked up, he’d hit a trigger or something, clearly that he knew nothing about. It must have been his old family, his biological family, and Steve hadn’t had any information. But Harrison needed this, else he was going to get much, much sicker. After a while he stopped the running water, just leaving the teenager sat in the tub. He did his best to keep the water moving over him, where he could avoid clawed hands and kicking legs. Steve himself was soaked, his T-shirt clinging to him, but he pushed on. He needed to get Harrison’s temperature down. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re okay, you’ve not done anything wrong. Cooling you down, kid. Cooling you down.”

His words didn't register with Harrison, still fueled by adrenaline and terror. He continued to try his best to scramble out, grabbing at Steve where he could. Steve kept putting water on him, kept him trapped in the bath. He was obviously just dragging it out, making sure Harrison knew how much trouble he'd caused, how much he deserved the punishment.

Steve hated it, the way Harrison grabbed a t him and tried to free himself. It seemed to be working, though, the boy’s skin wasn’t so warm to touch, he seemed slightly more with it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you. I just want to help you. I promise I’m helping you.”

Eventually, his strength died down. He didn't have the energy to fight any more, and slowly resigned himself to whatever was coming.

When he stopped, he expected punishment, to be pushed under and held there, but it didn't come.

The hands on him no longer burned, and he slowly realised they weren't pushing him down but keeping him up, out of the water. They were slow and gentle, each move careful and considered. Gradually, his sobbing stopped, though his breath continued to catch in his throat. He couldn't help himself as he collapsed into Steve, unable to hold himself up any longer.

“Well done, that’s it. You’re alright, I’m not trying to hurt you. Just helping you cool down, yeah?” He said gently, stroking through his hair. “I’m sorry. You’re going to be okay, Harrison I’ve got you. Just breathe. It’s okay.”

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