A Reminder Of Life | By : Daydreamer79 Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2696 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto nor make money from it |
AN:This is a result of the chapter 599 of the Naruto manga so it contains spoilers for Naruto 599. Five minutes after I finished reading it, this appeared in my head. I've always been a Kaka/Obito/Kaka fan and the fandom is so small for that pairing. This takes place before Pein attacks Konoha. I didn't chose a specific time, just some time before that but after Sasuke has left Orochimaru. This is my own little head canon. No hating on specifics.
Warnings: Spoilers for naruto 599, Sexual situations, cursing, rough sex, use of alcohol, angst A single dark eye watched with interest from the shadows; the man nearly completely hidden from sight in the embracing arms of the darkness that had become as welcoming as a trusted comrade. Not even the most perceptive shinobi would be capable of seeing through his jutsu. It was one of the many skills he had perfected over his many years away from Konoha. Truthfully, he only returned this day for one reason and one reason alone. That reason was currently strolling down the mostly empty street. Kakashi Hatake, the well-known Copycat Kakashi, was the only thing of interest to him in this village. He would forever be the only thing capable of drawing him from his long thought out plans. With silent revere, he watched as Kakashi detoured from the street in a familiar route known to both. He had watched him enough to know where he would go. All the while, he stood hidden at a distance, a sole witness to the sadness playing across the famous copycat ninja's face. A hand lifted and was placed on the stone monument listing every shinobi of Konoha who died in duty to the village. He knew without looking which name was being caressed in long slow strokes by career callused fingers. Obito Uchiha. With a nearly inaudible wry chuckle, the man shook his head at himself. Even though he had long sense shed any connection to the village, going so far as to hide his identity from any and every one, he could not deny the internal satisfaction he garnered from watching his name be treated to such a loving caress by none other than Kakashi Hatake. It was all the more amazing considering their shared past. He wondered how Kakashi would feel should he discover that the name he so lovingly caressed belonged to a still living man. Could he even lay a claim to that name any longer? For so long he went by Tobi, a clever, if not obvious alteration of his name. Even now, the name Obito sounded foreign on his tongue. It was only from Kakashi's lips that he wanted to hear that long forgotten name. Kakashi was the only one with the right to speak it. Using the shadows to his advantage, he followed quickly and silently behind his prey as Kakashi moved from the stone and down the street, stopping only shortly in a small liquor store to purchase several bottles of expensive sake. He was Kakashi's shadow, following him like the ghost he was. Obito Uchiha was dead, but perhaps, just for tonight, he would rise again. The sun was dropping below the horizon, creating a canvas of oranges and reds on a dark blue sky. His gaze did not waver from his target, even to see the amazing sunset created in the Fire Country evening. He did not care. Only that man was worthy of his attention. He had pulled himself away from pressing matters simply to see this man. There was no hurry in Kakashi's gait. Occasionally, he would throw up a lazy hand to any who called out to him, but otherwise continued on his slow and winding trail to the small apartments rented out to unattached shinobi. It was a pitiful place consisting of only the most spartan arrangement of furniture. A bed covered in a thin green blanket, a small table with two chairs, and a small utilitarian kitchen. An even smaller bathroom was off from the bedroom. Kakashi Hatake lived like a religious monk. Taking up residence on the shadowed balcony, Obito crouched in the darkness to watch. Frowning to himself, he rolled the sound of his given name over his tongue as if tasting the feel of it after so long without use. He watched with unabashed interest as Kakashi took out the bottles of sake and then retrieved two cups from the kitchen. He poured equal parts into the two cups. "Today is the anniversary," murmured Kakashi. "I hate drinking alone so I poured you a drink too...Obito." Obito shuddered at the sound of his name rolling off Kakashi's tongue. His fingers clenched into the fabric of his dark robe and parts of his body mostly forgotten stirred to life once more. He was not a monk, but he neglected the more physical aspects of being alive in favor of other more pressing matters. Now his body was making its very real desires known. Kakashi toasted the two cups together before downing his sake in a single gulp. He poured a fresh cup from the bottle, not touching that which was already poured in the second cup. Again and again he downed cup after cup of sake. It was almost a shame to see such quality sake being swilled down like cheap watered down ale. "God, Obito...why did things have to turn out this way?" Kakashi was deep in his cups as he spoke, slurring and stumbling over his words. "I'm so sorry." To hear the great Kakashi Hatake whining and bemoaning the past like a weakling gave him a sense of power. He, fumbling and clumsy Obito Uchiha had brought this powerful man–a jounin without compare–to his knees. It was not Rin's death he drank to commemorate nor was it the death of their powerful sensei. Obito was the only one in Kakashi's mind. When Kakashi's head lowered to rest on the edge of the table, Obito moved slowly and silently into the apartment, using his time and space jutsu to pass through the wall as if it was not there. He stood over the slumped frame of his former comrade, mentally measuring his worth. Without his mask, the man slumped before him lost that sense of mystery. There was nothing special hidden beneath the elastic material. A thin aristocratic nose flowed into thin lips and a firm, well defined chin. Separate, the features were nothing special, but when seen as a whole, they gave beautiful definition and surprising elegance to a killer. A killer was all any shinobi was. Some might hide it behind facades of honor, but in the core of their being, all who took an oath to their respective village knew the truth of the words they spoke–to kill for the honor and survival of their home. "Why are you sitting here drunk, Kakashi?" Obito inclined his head to stare at the man before him. "Why would a killer care anything for the life of a dead comrade?" With a practiced flick of his wrist, Obito removed the orange swirled mask he wore to hide the truth of his identity from all. He tossed the hard porcelain to the table with a small clatter and ran a hand through his hair. The air on his face felt strange after so long wearing the mask. For a brief moment, he wondered if the sensation was similar to what Kakashi felt when he removed his mask in the privacy of his small apartment. He followed the action immediately by tossing aside his cloak, leaving him dressed in black pants, sandals, and a black fishnet shirt. Thin, callused fingers plucked the filled cup of sake and brought it to his lips. The rice wine was smooth and powerful as it burned a trail down his throat before pooling in his stomach to create an added warmth. He closed his one useable eye and sighed heavily. Upon opening his eyes, Obito found himself staring into a mirrored opened eye. For a moment, the urge to flee took hold until shaking fingers were raised to brush along the thick scars rippling down the right side of his face. Wonder and grief spread across Kakashi's slack features as he traced each line. "Obito," he breathed. "Is that you?" Obito stood rod stiff, his face revealing nothing as he watched Kakashi with caution. Even drunk, Kakashi Hatake was a dangerous man. If reason won over the drunken stupor, all Obito's plans would be lost. The use of Madara Uchiha's powerful name would fail if it was known the man behind the mask was little known Obito Uchiha. "I'm so sorry, Obito." Obito sneered at the blathering words coming from Kakashi. This man, this powerful man, should apologize to no one. It sent a ripple of anger through him, tainting his words. "What are you doing, drinking yourself into a stupor? You're better than this." Obito shoved Kakashi to his feet and slammed him into the nearby wall. "Whining and crying like a baby. What is the matter with you?" "Obito," Kakashi murmured. Obito clenched his hands around Kakashi's biceps. "Look at you, drunk off your gourd." Seeing Kakashi pressed against the wall with his eyes open and pleading caused a return in the rush of arousal previously forgotten. Obito's fingers clenched in the coarse standard issue uniform while his eyes traced the line of the body before him from bare feet to wild white hair. This was his chance. Kakashi was not fighting him, likely too drunk to bother responding to instinct. Tracing fingers up the length of an arm, noting the perfectly sculpted muscles beneath the uniform, Obito bit back a growl rising in his throat. His hand reached Kakashi's revealed face, tingling at the faint brush of white stubble visible in the dim room. The feel of Kakashi's warm skin, the softness of his lips, and the faint heat of his breath were addicting. The whisper of his long abandoned name against the sensitive flesh of his fingers was his undoing. How long had it been since his last lover? Months? Years? He could not even recall the man's face. It was always this sense of disgust he felt for those he took, men and women both. They did not satisfy him, and his tastes had always strayed towards the more violent. But Kakashi, he possessed the strength to give as good as he got. He would not lay down and take it with fake cries of pleasure. This man was a killer. Knowing only a life of violence, Obito was willing to bet a hard fucking would be the only way for either of them to be truly satisfied. "You deserve to be punished," he growled against Kakashi's ear, catching the sound of a startled gasp just as his hand reached and grabbed the soft flesh between splayed legs. "How long has it been, Kakashi? How long has it been since you lost control?" Kakashi moaned low and arched into the touch. His body grew hard, a surprising feat considering the amount of alcohol he had consumed. He whined low and shifted closer to Obito. "Too long." "I should just leave you to your stupor." He would not leave, even if the harsh words spilling from his lips spoke to the opposite. For so long, Kakashi had remained so ingrained into him, he found himself constantly returning to this place if for no other reason than to catch a glimpse of the man who proved to be less a rival and instead, someone he desired to be closer to. Their relationship as teammates was not a sexual one, or even a romantic one. Now was different. So much had changed. Both men were different people entirely. Kakashi had adjusted his personality from the cold, heartless youth to a seemingly carefree man. Obito knew better. He knew the killer in Kakashi struggled against the facade he carried like a second skin. It was the killer he wanted to bring to life once more. He had always been attracted on some level to the darkness Kakashi had always carried with him even as children. It went against everything he had come to believe about the world. He longed for the perfect peace, yet here he sought to resurrect the spirit of death himself. He shoved the fingers of one hand angrily into Kakashi's thick white locks and pulled the head back with a punishing grip. In truth, he was angrier at himself than Kakashi. Instead of bringing a whimper of pain, a slow rippling growl rumbled from Kakashi's chest. "You like pain?" snarled Obito into Kakashi's ear. He should have known. Most shinobi of Kakashi's caliber were so numb from their lives as assassins, they occasionally developed a taste for roughness with sex as an assurance they were still alive. It made finding partners outside of shinobi ranks considerably more difficult. Kakashi was a member of ANBU, even if he were listed as inactive; for one never left ANBU unless their names were inscribed on the memorial stone. It went without saying he would develop what some might consider a perverted sexual nature. Obito was no different. On the rare occasions he chose to indulge in taking a lover, it generally ended in a rough, almost violent encounter. Life had changed him from a kind boy to someone hard and almost cold. His tongue darted out to stroke up the rim of Kakashi's ear. That did not mean he was incapable of gentle touches. Sex was a balancing act, ensuring all desires were met in the perfect balance. He could be a gentle lover and if the fates had different plans, he and Kakashi might have discovered all the facets found in a relationship between shinobi. Giving a small huff, he turned his thoughts elsewhere. Those musings were better left undeveloped. Obito was under no illusions to a life with Kakashi. Before the end, one or both would be dead. He was satisfied with one night, a night his partner was likely to never remember as anything but a drunken hallucination. The hand at Kakashi's crotch, having halted its ministrations, tightened on the hard flesh beneath the standard uniform trousers. He had not seen Kakashi's package since they were in their early teens, but it was obvious he had grown. The feel of the heat radiating from the bunched crotch had him licking his lips as a fresh wave of lust barreled through him. He could not recall ever being this aroused by any one lover. "You want pain?" Obito pulled back and forced Kakashi's bleary eye to focus on him as much as he could, considering the alcohol induced state he was in. "Do you want a reminder that you are still alive? I can give it to you, but I want to hear you ask for it." Kakashi arched into the touch at his crotch. His lips parted slightly and his breath hitched. He gave no sign of having comprehended what was asked of him. Obito growled and pulled completely away, forcing both of Kakashi's hands to his side at the wall. "Say it." "Obito," Kakashi panted. "Please." "Say it." A small whine escaped only moments before those delightful words filled the air between them. "Make me feel alive. Please, Obito, I want to feel again." That was all that was needed. Without undue wait, their lips were smashed together so firmly blood was tasted in the kiss. The kiss was nothing like those fantasized about by little prepubescent girls. It was violent and wild, possessing everything both needed from it. Their tongues fought a duel while hands pressed deeply into muscles. Obito latched onto Kakashi's lean hips while Kakashi sought purchase on broad shoulders. Physically, both were equal in height and weight. Both were lean and tone from years spent training in their chosen craft. Neither possessed an ounce of unnecessary fat. It gave them an edgy look most shinobi possessed and caused civilians to be wary. They knew of the blood coating the hands of their protectors and it frightened them. Obito pulled their lips apart just far enough to allow him to bite down hard on a dewy lower lip, drawing even more blood with his teeth. The man in his arms cried out and arched into the kiss where others might have pulled away. This was what it meant to be alive for a killer. The pain assured them of their status amongst the living. "More," moaned Kakashi, his hands now clawing at Obito. Only too willing to comply, Obito easily divested Kakashi of his flak vest, shirt, and undershirt. Skin marred with various scars was revealed to him in its pale glory. White whorls of hair curled around pink nipples and encircled the indention of the navel before growing thicker and disappearing into the low hanging green pants. Fingers fisted into the material of Obito's fishnet shirt desperately. "More," Kakashi whispered again. A small smirk curved Obito's lips. The words housed more desperation than he had ever known Kakashi possessed. Lust. Pain. Hope. "Since you asked so nicely," he purred. Taking the time to divest himself of his shirt, he took Kakashi's hand and led him to the single bed. He would have liked to take him against the wall or even on the floor, but chose instead the bed. Pleasing both of them would be so much easier on the mattress. Rough did not always mean fast. He gave Kakashi a shove, watching as the effect of the sake had him flailing back like a ragdoll onto the thin mattress. Taking advantage of the moment, Obito quickly pulled out a kunai and sliced through the material of Kakashi's pants and underwear, not caring the questions it would bring to rise the next day should Kakashi not recall the events of tonight, or think them all a drink induced hallucination. He knelt on the edge of the bed for a moment, staring down at the body splayed out for him. The white hair beginning at Kakashi's navel grew thicker and wirier as it reached the base of a nicely formed penis—long with a faint curve that sent it bobbing against a rippled abdomen. He wasn't as thick as Obito, but might have been slightly longer in length. Obito only gave a passing thought to the hard mattress beneath his knees. It made him wonder if Kakashi was punishing himself for something. Even the most hardened of shinobi surrounded themselves in some sort of physical comfort. If Kakashi lived like a monk, his bank accounts were probably flush. If not for the throbbing in his own body, he might have thought more on the curious quirk in his former teammate. But there was not time for thinking. His body wanted. This one night could destroy his plans for the world and he did not care. He wanted—wanted to feel alive, as if the past was nothing but a nightmare he would awake from. Tonight, he would saturate himself in that fantasy. It would be his one allowance before beginning the next stage of his plans. Keeping everything moving along at the preordained schedule was becoming increasingly difficult. Sasuke was a wild card. He was deeply engrossed in his own mental instability, and while susceptible to manipulation, he was also a dangerous bomb waiting to explode at the first chance. For tonight, he would let go of his plans and live as a man. Tonight, he was simply Obito Uchiha. With his mind now fully focused on Kakashi, he ran the palms of his hands up the rippled abdomen until the fingers of each hand reached dark pink nipples surrounded by whorls of white hair. A smirk tilted up the corner of his lips as his fingers pinched hard on the sensitive flesh before beginning to pull and twist. Kakashi arched beneath him at the introduction to the touches. Without losing pace, Obito lowered his head and latched onto the right nipple with his teeth and bit hard enough to draw the coppery taste of blood into his mouth. Beneath him, Kakashi gave a shout and come began oozing from the tip of his cock were it pressed into his stomach. "That feels good, doesn't it?" Obito growled into the hard muscles of Kakashi's chest. "It lets you know you're alive." "Yes," hissed Kakashi, his body arching up into Obito. "More." A grin spread across Obito's face—dark in nature and a dim remnant of the smiles of his youth. There was little of the old Obito in this man. There were times he wonder if that person every truly existed. Now there was only cold determination, except for when he was with Kakashi. Those feelings of the past were roused to the surface once more in his presence. "I'll give you more. I'll make sure your body doesn't forget even if your mind does." They were just words, but deep inside, he hoped Kakashi would remember some facet of tonight, if only for the span of a whispered memory on the edge of his consciousness. "...bito." His words were slurred, but the need was there. Ignoring the lust forming between their bodies was impossible. In that instant, the past was forgotten and only two animals remained. Obito tore at his pants, breath released in wild puffs against Kakashi's chest. He could feel the hot press of the warm cock against his stomach as he struggled to push aside his black pants and boxers so to feel the press of their erections together for the first time. It was both relief and frustration as he finally tore free of the cloth and took Kakashi's thighs in hand to spread him open for his body. The sweaty heat of their lower bodies made their skin slick as they slid against each other. Kakashi's legs wrapped around Obito's thighs and pulled them closer together. With their aroused dicks rubbing freely against each other, the smell of lust became thick in the air. Blunt nails scratched insistently at Obito's pale shoulders, leaving red trails along the flesh and adding the scent of blood to the room already thick with lust. The stinging pain in his shoulders brought a growl to his lips. He could barely think beyond plowing into the body beneath him. It really had been too long between his lovers. With a wildly grasping hand, he reached into the plain bedside table and withdrew a container of unscented lubricant he knew was hidden away inside. Kakashi was no virgin, but Obito had no desire to take him without something to ease the way. Pain was one thing, but a dry taking would diminish the pleasure for both. With a slow roaming eye, Obito took in the scene before him—the long tone body arching with needful lust. Every part of him was a scene from the most obscene pornographic images with the bites and reddened flesh created by Obito's lips. It was the look on Kakashi's face, however, that gave him pause. There was pleading that had nothing to do with sexual lust. It caused an ache in him. He wanted to kiss those parted lips and soothe the pain visible in the single open eye. With a growl, he immediately flipped Kakashi to his stomach. He could not bear to look into his face. His hands gripped narrow hips so firmly, red marks sure to be bruises the following day formed beneath his fingers. His face pressed into the sweat damp shoulder beneath him as he gasped for both breath and control. "More," growled Kakashi when Obito did not move. "Yes, more," he replied in response to the demand. Taking the lubricant, Obito quickly spread the cool liquid over the head and shaft of his erection. He did not bother with any sort of preparations to Kakashi. Neither could have stood the wait. It was a wonder they lasted this long with the rate at which the lust between them was growing. Obito did not care if it was real or merely a result of long ignored emotions. All that mattered to him was getting inside the warmth of the body beneath him. In a small gentle gesture, he ran the palm of his hand down the length of Kakashi's spine, noting the various scars present. Everything from slices by kunais to burns to punctures by senbon dotted his body, and each one only added to Kakashi's allure. The gentleness did not last long with the way Kakashi was shifting and pressing back against him. They both needed this, even if neither of them was completely sober. Kakashi was drunk on sake, but Obito was drunk on Kakashi. He could no longer think when he felt the glide of his cock along the crease of Kakashi's ass. He went into an instinctual mode and thrust forward completely so that he was buried in heat. The body beneath him clamped down and a small shout was ripped from Kakashi's throat. Obito did not stop to allow for adjustment, but began a hard and punishing rhythm. Kakashi did not seem to mind the roughness, if anything, he seemed to enjoy it all the more. Their bodies moved in a hard rocking motion. The small, single bed rocked on its legs as Obito pounded into Kakashi's body. Gasps and moans fell from both lips while sweat beaded and dripped from their gyrating bodies. Obito's single eye stared at Kakashi's face, how it was pulled taut and how his lips hung open just enough to allow a glimpse of the pink tongue within. Without thinking, he sat back on his haunches, pulling Kakashi with him so that he was draped across his thighs. Their bodies, honed hard from years as shinobi, adjusted easily. He used just enough chakra to give him the strength to keep them aloft before grabbing at Kakashi's chin and pulling his face until he could latch onto those panting lips. He could taste the sake and the need, and it was delicious. His tongue darted out to lap at the lip before his teeth bit down again. No one seeing Kakashi tomorrow would know of the state his body was in. His bruised and swollen lips were a sight only for Obito. Without even realizing it, his sharingan activated and he pulled back enough to copy the look across Kakashi's face—his parted lips and sultry eye. This was a memory he would keep with him until the end, whenever that might be. Kakashi gave a small whine as he was lifted from the hard shaft piercing into him. Obito laid him out onto his back and tugged tensed legs onto his shoulders, pressing forward until Kakashi was nearly bent in two. He thrust inside once more, but without the violence. The slower push had the body beneath him shuddering. "Obito," whispered Kakashi as his hand began to drift toward the hard erection, dark red in its need. The sound of his name on Kakashi's lips was the trigger, sending him over the edge. His hand shot out to wrap around the tight balls visible below Kakashi's red arousal. He squeezed hard, knowing the pain mixed with pleasure would send Kakashi over the edge as well and was not disappointed. Obito watched as Kakashi arched back, giving a small shout. Come shot across his chest, beads of it catching on the wiry curls at his stomach. Obito's body contracted in time with his partner, spilling out gobs of semen. For a moment he wondered if his orgasm would ever complete itself as he continued to contract in pleasure nearly to the point of pain. His body remained taut and strained until finally the final pulse caused him to collapse against Kakashi. Only the sound of gasping breath filled the air. The smell of sex and blood whispered around them, leaving no doubt as to what had occured. To shinobi, such odors went hand in hand. Pressing his nose into Kakashi's chest, he breathed deeply of the musk unique to this man alone. He wished his sharingan did more than record sight. Lifting his head, he stared at the limp body before him. The sake had finally taken its toll on Kakashi and he was finally trapped in sleep. His lips were parted and his breath slow and deep. For several long minutes, Obito wavered. His throat bobbed and his stomach jumped. In all the years he had been away, this was the most tempted he had ever been to stay and forgo all the plans. Kakashi would accept him back. There would be questions asked, but if anything, Obito was a master at weaving deception. It could easily work. He could spend every night like this, never fearing the coming dawn as if were the carrier of death. As he slowly dressed, his body sluggishly refusing to obey his commands, Obito's eye never left Kakashi. He stood in his black cloak covered in the images of red clouds, holding limply in one hand the orange swirling mask used to hide his identity. "Kakashi," he whispered reverently. "Ask me to stay. I'll stay if you ask me." Kakashi's face wrinkled faintly and for a moment, Obito thought he would answer him. Instead, the body sprawled before him turned on its side and a small snore rumbled into the silence. Despair and resignation rippled through him before he tamped down the feelings. This was the way things had to be. He leaned down, the thin bed depressing under his weight. "To think, I was willing to give up everything for you. Goodbye, Kakashi." His hand lingered a few moments longer on the warm flesh of a tone shoulder before Obito pulled away. He removed all traces of his presence from the room except for the empty cup of sake. It was perhaps a wishful hope Kakashi would realize the truth of his presence and come to stop him. Closing his eye and heaving a sigh, he placed the porcelain mask on his face once more and with it, discarded the name only Kakashi had the right to use. Gone once more was Obito Uchiha, and in his place was a monster with many names, but none that he could truly call his own. He turned on his heel and walked with determined steps to the balcony. With a final glance into the small apartment, he jumped from the railing and disappeared from sight.oOo
Kakashi's eyes flashed open and his head shot up from the pillow. His body ached and his mind was blank, the last memory was of him pouring a salutatory cup of sake for Obito as he did every year. Pressing a hand to his chest, he fought back a sudden rush of pain. It felt as if the many years had not passed and he had lost Obito all over again.
Glancing down at his body, he scowled. Someone had obviously shown up while he was drunk and they had proceeded to have a round of fucking. He strained his mind to find the some sort of memory, but only succeeded in making his hangover headache all the worse. It shamed him to think he had given in to drunken sex on the one day he honored every year. With a groan, he collapsed back on the mattress, lacking even the will to rise and shower away the smell permeating his skin. The smell of sex generally disgusted him and he was quick to send any of his one night stands away so he could wash away their scent. Today, he could not find the will to do so. Rolling over, he stared forward at nothing. Why did it hurt so bad? The sense of loss was so great; it felt almost like a physical pain in his chest. The only words that seemed to play in his mind came from a deep and sultry voice. Goodbye. That solitary word broke his heart for a reason he could not bring into full realization. Closing his eyes, he forced back the phantom memory and rose. He would do as he always did, lose himself in the image he created for the world and seal away his emotions. It was the only way he could survive in this violent world. Only the scent around him gave him any comfort. He ingrained the scent on his body into his mind before he stepped into the shower. When his life was in its darkest moments, he would recall this scent and perhaps find some sort of peace. "Obito, what would you think if you saw me now. I try to live for both of us, but I find myself hoping death will find me sooner rather than later. If I allowed that, you would bitch at me for wasting my life. You've damned me, you idiot." Obito had wanted him to live, and live he would. It might be a painful existence, but he would live and his reward would be in having Obito standing before him once more when death finally took him. The endWhile AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
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