¡CRACKHEADS! (S.T. x fem rdr)

𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴

I forgot to add that suggestions are encouraged on this, and if you see anything that you think I could have wrote better, please tell me.

<Cass, I swear, you better not be reading this.>

(TW: SUGGESTIONS OF ABUSE, GORE(??), AND SUGGESTIONS OF DRINKING)

-3rd person-
AIZAWA'S POV

  The erasure hero was patrolling his section of the city when he decided to take a small walk through one of the local neighbourhoods. Stumbling upon a particular house, he paused. He had passed this one many times before, but this time it felt...different. Its aura radiated feelings of uncertainty, and.. he couldn't quite pinpoint it. Apprehensiveness? No, that wasn't it. His thoughts were cut off by screams and cries of what seemed to be more than one child, followed by an adult shouting. His eyes widened as he realized it was coming from the familiar house. Though this happened many times with families when small children would throw meaningless fits, his gut told him it wasnt just an ordinary scene. The cries suddenly worsened and the shouting got louder, as there was now two adult voices, one pleading female tone and one angered male. He immediately called this in and was told to wait for backup, just in case the situation escalated and he wasnt able to handle it by himself. As much as this upsetted him, he knew he had to listen to any orders issued to him by his superiors. He was waiting impatiently outside the house when the shrill screaming of the children and blaring voices of the adults got so loud that the neighbors started to step out of their homes to see what was going on. The struggling and screaming got more violent before abbruptly stopping. The voice of the second female adult wailed in a tone filled with horror and agony. Suddenly a gunshot went off, causing him to slightly jump at the unexpected noise.

(I KNOW THAT PART WAS KIND OF CONFUSING, IM SORRY)

When he decided he couldn't wait any longer, he clenched his teeth and furrowed his brows, getting ready to enter. Kicking his foot out, he swiftly brought the door down. He immediately stepped in and looked around. The sight brought to his eyes made him want to hurl. Blood painted the carpet and walls of the living room a shade of deep red, as well as blood splattered items like belts and wires, even knives and hammers scattered across the floor. Bottles of beer and other various alcohol substances littered the floor. Whatever unsettling events that had occured in the household were clearly filled with sick tourture and relentless beating. The blood was everywhere, along with scorch marks, dents, and cracks in almost everything. Smashed glass reflected the dull shine of a dimmed light. The whole room was trashed. He turned to his right and stiffened. There lied the crippled body of a young woman, blood seeping from her wounds and abdominal area, where a bullet laid lodged in her exposed stomach. His eyes darted further to the side where a man stood over her, a gun in hand. The man slowly turned around, facing the hero with a crazed look in his eyes. The man then raised his gun to the hero, and shot.