#my theme is touya todoroki...

[seneon]

what if. what. if. i did a dabi theme.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Can you do a touya/Dabi fic with shotos twin sister and just had one quirk which was fire so she was tossed aside so she resented her dad and somehow she met dabi/touya and he made her his little spy but she also desperately clings to him at times when she reports to him and stays close since she never got that affection (Btw for outfits she usually wears tank tops and bootcut jeans) please and thank you

Warnings: sorry this took forever for me to get out, been meaning to get to it cuz i miss writing for dabi x todoroki!reader, tons of trigger warnings, sibling incest, siblingxsibling relationships, betrayal, manipulation, resentment, overall dark themes, dysfunctional todoroki family ft, mind the tags, don't read if you don't like the subject matter 🖤

Inhaling deeply before letting out a slow, steady, breath, you pull open the large front door of Endeavor's agency. You could survive a few hours in the presence of your father. Or rather, lingering in the background like the little ghost you were.

No one would dare to say it out loud, but everyone and their mother knew you were the spare twin compared to your slightly older brother Shoto. He was the pride and joy of the Todoroki family, unlike you. At first you believed it to be unfair. You were in the womb at the same time as him. Why didn't you get a ice and fire quirk?

Was it really because he was the first born? That couldn't be it.

Your white flames, while hotter than even your father's, did little to impress him.

You didn't turn any heads when you enter your father's personal floor of his agency's building. This task was easy. Stealing information and sending it to your older brother and his crew became a normal thing for you.

"See, I told you we should have her around." Dabi argued in your defense while caressing the side of your face. "She's a good girl who listens to her big brother, aren't you?" Some would call his tone degrading. You felt the tenderness in his hand though as it delicately angled your face upward so he could look into your mismatched eyes. One the hue of a storm in the sky, the other the color of a raging sea. That’s what Dabi always said before you closed your eyes to go to bed.

Shigaraki and the rest of the League were less thrilled about you being anywhere near them. While you weren't popular like your father or Shoto, many still knew your face. Having you around could be more of a risk than the League were willing to pay.

You just wanted to make him happy, to keep his eyes solely on you. If it involved betraying the other members of your family (including your twin brother Shoto) then so be it. You would let Dabi’s words consume you entirely, making you his mindless slave.

The rest of the League members could chalk it up to Dabi simply using sweet words to manipulate you. He didn’t care about anything. Especially his family. What made you different?

Now that was a secret that Dabi would not utter. His praise filled words were genuine when it came to you and Dabi would be damned if he had to give you up again because of Tomura. He'd make sure you'd make yourself indispensable to the League. They'd have to let you stay.

You were just as determined as Dabi was to keep your place. You hated to even pretend to be under allegiance to your father or any superhero for that matter. They'd always looked down on you for not being like Shoto. Never being enough for them or their world. But you were enough for Dabi.

Slipping the flashdrive up your sleeve, you leave just as you had arrived: unseen. Just in case the cameras hidden throughout the building were focused on you, you'd nonchalantly picked up some of your father's paperwork in appearance of tidying up his workspace like the good daughter you were.

It made you sick to your stomach thinking that not too long ago, all you'd ever wanted was Endeavor's attention and approval. Shoto suppressed his fire ability for years, associating it with his abusive father so you thought you had a shot. You spent hours upon hours practicing with your flames to make them hotter and hotter and finally to where they could melt anything and everything. Leaving not even ash behind.

When you hand Shigaraki the flashdrive, he grudgingly accepts it with a stiff nod. He didn't want to admit that you were providing them incredibly valuable information that all other villain groups lacked.

He ignores Dabi's smug grin as he slung his arm around your shoulder, giving the top of your head a peck. "Knew you could do it." His brings his hand up for his fingers to brush against your cheek.

You felt it again.

The world stopping and all breath departing from your lungs. You wanted Dabi to brand you with his palm, to use his blue flames and scorch your skin so you would always have a piece of him.

Then Dabi leans down, lips caressing the shell of your ear and in his husky tone he calls you "Good girl."

Blushing and highly aware of how Dabi simply towered over you, you shyly duck your head. "Ha. . . it was nothing."

Everyone learned to simply avert their attention when Dabi's affections for you walked on the razor's edge of what was appropriate.

You'd proven to be their perfect spy. Shigaraki couldn't wait to see you in actual battle. That would really be the test of your usefulness.

[walalppper]

"Chasing shadows." Dabi x Reader:

Part. 1

This fanfic follows the journey of (Y/n), a fearless and determined investigative reporter driven by the tragic loss of her father in a hero-related accident. As she uncovers corruption and deceit, she becomes obsessed with uncovering the truth behind the elusive villain Dabi, whose actions are as mysterious as they are destructive. What begins as an investigation into his crimes quickly spirals into an unsettling personal obsession. Dabi, drawn to her unrelenting pursuit, begins to watch her every move, and as their paths inevitably cross, the tension between them grows.

Warnings: Dark themes associated with psychological manipulation, obcession and unhealthy relationships.

It's a slow burn, enemies to lovers fanfic. Also english is not my first language but i hope you enjoy it.

(Took the pic from pinterest, not my work)

She wasn’t born reckless. (Y/n) had learned to be fierce the hard way, one unanswered question at a time. Her father, a quiet man with calloused hands and a morning ritual of coffee and crossword puzzles, had been a casualty in a hero crossfire. Wrong place. Wrong time. A flash of flame, a collapsing wall, and just like that, he became another number in a hollow government statement.

No charges. No accountability. Just a headline: “Hero Saves City, Minor Civilian Losses.”

She was sixteen. And she never forgot the way her mother’s hands trembled holding that damn report. That was the day she stopped believing in the fantasy of heroes, it was a fantasy that died with her old self. And in its place, (Y/n) built a spine made of steel and a mouth that never asked for permission.

Instead of joining protests or wallowing in grief, she turned it into fuel. Studied. Trained. Learned to navigate the media world until she became one of the youngest independent investigative reporters in the country. She didn’t just report news—she unearthed it. Pulled truth from the cracks like weeds from concrete. Her voice was sharp, her questions sharper. She never backed down from a threat, (Y/n) didn’t just chase stories, she stalked the truth.

Dabi had seen her at press conferences, calling out politicians and pro heroes like she didn’t care they were bigger, louder, richer. He liked that about her. The fire behind her eyes. The way she refused to be scared even when she should have been.

He didn’t fall for her all at once. That wasn’t how his brain worked. His heart wasn’t a switch. It was a slow burn, just like him.

The first time he felt it, really felt it, was when he saw her laugh. Not the polite kind she gave to sources or the snarky smirk she wore around authority. No, this was different. She was on a livestream with a friend, head tilted back, eyes closed, her whole body folding into the sound. Unguarded. Pure. Human.

It had caught him completely off guard. Later, he told himself he was replaying it for research. Studying her mannerisms, maybe picking up on a lead. But it wasn’t that.

It never was.

The second time was messier. Bloodier. She’d shown up at a crime scene downtown, boots splashed with rain, hair sticking to her cheeks. One of the heroes, some arrogant sidekick with a too-tight uniform and a superiority complex, tried to shove her back behind the caution tape. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t beg. She twisted his wrist until he dropped his comm and threatened to report him for obstruction.

Dabi had watched from above, perched on the skeletal remains of a fire escape, smoke trailing lazily from his fingers. His lips twitched.

Fierce little thing.

A storm in human form. Just like him.

That was when the possessiveness began. Quietly. Without warning. It crept in like smoke under a door, suffocating and slow. At first, it was little things: changing his routes through the city to make sure she didn’t wander into the wrong alley. Steering other villains away from where she was digging. Leaving subtle, false trails to confuse the heroes when they got too close to her shadow.

He told himself it was strategy. A way to protect his anonymity.

But it wasn’t strategy that made his chest clench when she smiled at that detective with the stupid haircut. It wasn’t tactics that made him burn down a warehouse near her apartment just to watch her run toward the flames, camera in hand, heart in her throat.

No. That was something else. Obsession. Fascination. And something colder beneath his ribs that terrified him, because it felt like love, but it bled like hunger.

And Dabi? He was a wildfire in the shape of a man. A mystery stitched together with scar tissue and unspoken grief. Which meant, of course, he was perfect for her. She was drawn to wreckage. He was made of it.

What she never realized, what she couldn’t have guessed, was that the moment she started chasing him, he started watching her back.

He saw himself in her the first time she went toe-to-toe with a Pro Hero at a press conference, her voice laced with venom and poise. The way she exposed hypocrisy without flinching, without blinking. She didn’t just want headlines—she wanted the truth, no matter who bled for it.

He admired that. Hated it, too. Because it made her a target. Because it made her his.

But the moment he knew he was doomed was much smaller. Stupid, even. She’d fallen asleep at her desk. Her tiny apartment bathed in blue light, empty coffee mug tilted on its side, ink bleeding across half-finished notes. She’d passed out mid-sentence, lips slightly parted, brows furrowed even in unconsciousness.

And then she murmured his name.

Not, "Dabi." Touya.

Like it belonged to her. Like she'd always known.

He didn’t even know how she did know. But the sound of it was so soft, so intimate, it did something to him. Broke something. Or maybe it finally stitched something back together.

That was the night he broke into her apartment for the first time. Just to see. Just to make sure she was real.

He stood in her room for hours, unmoving. Watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. Memorizing the curve of her hand where it lay curled near her throat. The way her lips twitched when she dreamed.

He told himself it was curiosity.

But curiosity doesn’t make you learn the rhythm of someone’s breath like a lullaby. Curiosity doesn’t make you carve your route around their schedule. Doesn’t make you kill for quiet.

And it sure as hell doesn’t make you whisper her name when you’re alone.

No.

This wasn’t curiosity anymore, nor strategy.

This was something darker. This was fixation, wrapped in silk and smoke. This was hunger disguised as care. This was love—if love came with claws and didn’t know how to let go.

It wasn’t about justice anymore.

It was personal.

Her first real encounter had been a blur of chaos, sirens, crumbling infrastructure, and a flicker of blue that seared the corner of her vision before vanishing into smoke. She had barely glimpsed him, but that was all it took. The unnatural hue of his flames wasn’t just destructive, it was mesmerizing, unnatural, like something out of myth to her.

Since then, (Y/n) had followed scorched leads across city maps and burnt-out warehouses, each one a silent taunt. Dabi left more than fire on his way, he left questions for her to answer. Too many of them. Why did he target specific heroes? Why did some of his actions seem… deliberate, like he was sending a message only certain people could decode?

She kept digging and found inconsistencies in police reports, redacted lines in government archives, and whispers in underground forums. And then came the rumors that Dabi wasn’t just some anarchist with a god complex. That he was someone important. Someone connected.

That’s when it started to haunt her.

The moments they did meet, brief and electric, weren’t always violent. Once, in the aftermath of an abandoned Pro-Hero agency going up in flames, she caught him watching her from the rooftop, face half-shadowed. No quirk. No grand speech. Just a stare that rooted her to the ground. He didn’t run nor did he attack. He let her see him, and for a moment, she felt like he wanted to say something, but didn’t.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it.

There was a truth buried beneath his villainy, a puzzle she couldn’t solve yet. She knew it had something to do with his past, probably his identity. A piece of the story the public never got, one she felt compelled to tell. But the deeper she got, the more it unravelled her. There were nights when she stared at her investigation board, strings of red thread connecting crime scenes to surveillance stills to old family photos that didn’t quite make sense…

…And his eyes. His eyes were always the same in every blurry image. Blue. Unnatural. Familiar.

She didn’t have all the answers yet, but she was close.

Too close.

That's when he sent her a tip. An anonymous message. Coordinates. A promise. (Y/n) should’ve known better.

But after weeks of chasing shadows and smoke, after every scorched alley and burned informant, she was desperate. The message came late, buried in an encrypted inbox only she used for her Dabi case.

"You want the truth? Midnight. Don’t bring anyone."

Attached: coordinates. A condemned industrial district, long forgotten by the city.

She went. Of course she went.

(Y/n) parked several blocks away, walking the rest of the distance in silence, her breath sharp in the cold air. She gripped the camera tucked in her bag like a weapon, heart pounding, not from fear. From hope. From the idea that maybe this time, she’d get what she needed. Maybe she’d finally corner the devil who’d haunted every step of her investigation.

The warehouse stood like a skeleton of a building, rusted metal bones and shattered windows. Empty. Dead.

She stepped inside. Nothing but silence.

But something felt...off. Too still. No smell of smoke. No warmth. No signs of recent fire. She advanced anyway, jaw tight. “Hello?”

Her voice echoed. Nothing.

Then— Bang.

The door slammed shut behind her. She spun. Locked. She ran to it, pulling hard, but the latch was welded shut from the outside. Panic fluttered at the edges of her chest.

“Not bad,” a voice drawled from above. “You've made it in time.”

She froze.

He was perched on the rusted beams above her like some kind of vulture, one leg dangling, blue fire flickering lazily in his hand.

“Dabi,” she hissed.

He dropped, landing like smoke, silent and too close.

“You really are predictable, princess.”

Her spine stiffened. “You set this up.”

“Of course I did.” He stepped closer, hands loose at his sides, that damned grin playing at his lips. “You didn’t think you were the only one doing the hunting, did you?”

“You're flattered? I thought you liked the chase,” she snapped back at him.

“I do.” His eyes dragged down her body, slow and unashamed. “But sometimes, it’s fun to catch the mouse.” She backed up instinctively. “What do you want?”

“You.” The word hit her like a slap.

“I want you out of my head,” he said, stepping forward again. “I want you to stop digging. I want you to stop writing like you know me. Like you see me. Like you’re not just another vulture pretending to give a damn.”

“I do give a damn,” she shot back, voice breaking around the edges. “People are dying. You’re burning everything down. And I want to know why. I want the truth.”

Dabi stopped inches from her, his smile gone now.

“You can’t handle the truth,” he said, low. “But that’s okay. I’ll show it to you. Slowly.”

Her throat tightened. She wanted to fight. Scream. Push him back. But her body had forgotten how to move.

“I��m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. “But I am going to keep you. Until you understand. Until you stop lying to yourself. You think this is about justice? That you're better than me?”

His hand reached out, brushing against her cheek, like a lover. Like a warning.

“No, (Y/n). You came because part of you wanted to. Because you needed to see me. Feel me. And now…” He his lips were over the edge of her neck, sending shivers down her back.

“You don’t get to leave until you’re ready to admit it.”

[doumadono]

Hiya! This page was created due to the increasing inquiries about my Viking!Dabi AU. Firstly, I'm genuinely surprised and grateful for the overwhelmingly positive feedback on Kvitravn story. Many of you have expressed interest in one-shots within this particular AU, and in response, I've decided to dedicate an entire page to Viking-themed fics & one-shots. I hope you enjoy them!

If you'd like to request a one-shot or headcanons within the MHA Viking AU, please feel free to drop your ask in my askbox ⚔️

The playlist for the AU is available at this link

This page exclusively features stories crafted for the MHA Viking AU

KVITRAVN (viking!Dabi) - act I • act II • act III • act IV • act V • act VI • act VII • act VIII

How to wield an axe - Dabi x male Reader A well-placed shield - Dabi x shieldmaiden!Reader Earl's favourite - earl!Hawks x thrall!Reader The naughty one - Bakugo x fem!Reader - NSFW

viking!Shoto & viking!Dabi - general headcanons viking!Shoto & viking!Dabi - general headcanons - NSFW

ART CORNER

viking Dabi fighting viking Shoto viking Dabi & viking Shoto viking Shoto viking Dabi viking Dabi 2 viking Dabi, viking Shoto & earl Endeavor

MAIN MASTERLIST | MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST | MY HERO ACADEMIA EMERGENCY REQS | MY HERO ACADEMIA - PART II

[umbrelladripdrop]

*The squad has just arrived in a new city. Dabi looks around at the wanted posters to see if he's on any of them.* Jazz: Dabi, are you a criminal? Dabi: Not here, I’m not! ----- Dabi: A banker? Me? Danny: Yes, Dabi. Dabi: But I don’t know anything about running a bank! Danny: Good. No preconceived ideas. Dabi: I’ve robbed banks! Danny: Capital! Just reverse your thinking. The money should be on the inside. ----- Danny: Dabi, I want a bedtime story! Dabi: I’m busy, Danny. I’ll tell you one tomorrow. Danny: If you don’t tell me a story, I won’t go to bed! Dabi: Once upon a time, there was a person named Danny who always wanted things his way. One day, his friends got sick of it and locked him in the basement for the rest of his life and afterlife. Everyone else lived happily ever after. The end. Danny: I don’t like these stories with morals.

[theameba1436]

I made my own wallpaper and icon theme for my phone once again.

[humangerbil]

Here's part 2 of my Halloween preview for #Dabi Decor. This one is much more Halloween themed and less kitschy decoration but I think it fits still. I couldn't decide which one i liked better for this panel since he's doing the zombie hand pose.

More of my nonsense coming on Nov 5th!

[airanke]

The Sun and his Shadow.

[sunnlyfe]

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 — touya todoroki

↳ ꒰ I'ma put some goddamn moves on you, babe, i know you. need it.꒱

#𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 — touya has never been one for school dances, or school anything, really. but you love them. and he begins to think he might love you.

↳ #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 — he accidentally hurts readers feelings for like a second, swearing, most definitely ooc touya bc idk how to write him, cheesy content proceed with caution lol.

requested by @rueclfer who's probably touya's #1 fan. mostly smau, but ther3 is a written portion at the end! sorry if it's messy, it's not proofread.

“You look,” You have to pause, your brain cogs turning frantically in search of the right word. “Nice. Like, really fucking nice.”

He scoffs, sending you a look that screams annoyed, but you can tell it's faux. “Yeah? What's What's supposed to mean?”

“It means you look gross most of the time.”

“Wow.”

You laugh, the sound much louder than you intended. “You really are a baby.”

He brings his hand up to your face and pushes you away, earning him a hard swat at the wrist. “Seriously, though. You do look really nice.”

You finally take a moment to look at all of him; the way his silver hair seems less frizzy, the soft hug of his suit around his surprisingly thick arms—holy shit—and you only now realize the color of his suit. “Wait, are you matching me? Is that why you asked to see what I was wearing?”

His gaze doesn't leave you. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.”

It did matter, because he came here. The shade isn't even off, the fabric almost identical—he didn't just get it willy nilly, he put thought into it.

“The dance doesn't start till 9? It's 4:30.”

“Pictures.”

“My mother could get us better pictures.” He scoffs again, taking a good look at his surroundings. He ignores the look Keigo throws at him—the one that screams I told you so.

Touya hadn't really planned on this. Not when you asked him for theme ideas, or when you told him about post-prom. But it wasn't a spur of the moment decision. The night he called you, when you started crying and told him about how something so silly had you stressed beyond belief. And it wasn't something silly to you, you liked this stuff, no matter how stupid he thought it was. You enjoyed getting all dolled up, the pictures, the people, the dance and the music, the stupid after-prom or whatever it was.

And he didn't want to admit it until then, but he liked it. He liked the excitement in your voice or the way you ranted on and on about the decoration ideas you'd come up with, the food, the stupid games. And he wanted to see you. He wanted to see you in person, get a long look of how fucking stunning you are in this color.

And when he manages to get his hands on you, now hours later, he doesn't know why he'd been so adamant about not coming to this dance.

You're looking at him—so sweet, so pretty—with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck and he wants to kick himself.

You're smiling at him like he's everything.

“Can I be honest?”

You hum as if you're thinking about it. “I dunno, Touya. Honesty isn't your strong suit.”

“Shut the fuck up, don't ruin this.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You amend yourself, your hand moving to pat his shoulder. “What's up?”

“I like this.” He doesn't miss the way you furrow your brows.

“The dance?” He almost says no.

“I like this.” His hands tighten carefully around your hips, pulling you slightly closer to him. “I like us.”

He says the last part quieter, making sure to move his face closer, the words mumbled against the shell of your ear. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your smile managed to get so much bigger, your eyes meeting his the second he pulled his head back, and he wouldn't trade the sight for anything.

“Show me.”

He can't help but lean in again, this time for a kiss.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x Todoroki!Reader

Warnings: siblingxsibling incest, just wanted a reason to write dabixsister smut, filth, non con, agedup!reader, prohero!reader, dub con, turn back now while you still can, slightly naive reader, nicknames used, degradation, cannibalism mentioned in passing, cunnilingus, 18+ only, children protect thine eyes and avert your gaze to something sweeter

Words: 1619

Summary: Uh oh, looks like Dabi has finally caught you.

“Pretty girl” Dabi cooes before his tongue makes a long, flat strip along the slit of your pussy making you meal and arch your hips up to meet his mouth “My pretty girl.”

God how corrupt he was. So much so that he didn’t care that he dragged his baby sister along to damnation.

Fuck did it feel good though as his fingers dig into the swell of your ass, controlling your movements. The strong, long muscle of his tongue fucking your cunt into oblivion. You didn’t care about forsaking your family when Dabi was between your legs having himself a grand ol’ time making you cry out his name.

He was cruel in his affections. Though Dabi made sure it was a cruelty that had your thighs quacking and ass clenching in his palms.

You feel like your clit is about ready to combust from his abuse of it. Dealing it nips with his teeth when you tried to move away from him. A small punishment compared to the lovebites that trail along the inside of your thighs. There’d be no way to hide them with the tights of your usual costume. Dabi dealt with them quickly.

Face burning from the intensity of his lips. The slight slippery texture of the staples along his mouth felt every now and then.

You try and crawl away from him for the upteenth time, but Dabi's fingers dug harder into the muscles of your thighs. He made sure you weren't going anywhere until he was done.

You tried fighting against him. The entirety of your fight you mentally chastise yourself for falling for Dabi's trap. For a while you'd been able to evade him in this cat and mouse game. Shoto would be able to talk you out of confronting Dabi in whatever dark corner he was lurking in.

Wanting to apprehend him before he hurts the rest of your family drove you to seek him out. As long as he lived you and Shoto would never be able to break free from the harm Enji Todoroki as long as Dabi lived. He would hold this against not just the man he had main beef with, but harmless Natsuo and Fuyumi too. Dabi would keep reminding the public what Endeavor did to his wife and kids and how the world would now pay for it.

Tried resisting the urge to fall for his taunts, his mocking little names that he attached to you. Your older brother needed to be stopped. And if anyone could go toe to toe with Dabi, it was possibly you. Endeavor was still wary about fighting his own son whom he'd thought dead. And while Shoto possessed his half and half quirk, the heat of his flames couldn't compare to Dabi's bright blue.

However, the heat of your blinding white flames could give Dabi a run for his money.

Heat and combustion converge to birth a transcendent luminosity. Well, that was how Shoto often described it. You never knew he was a poet.

That night just wasn't your night.

You were already running low on fumes by the time you encountered Dabi.

It was like he was waiting for this perfect opportunity where you weren't in peak condition to detect his footsteps approaching. Not even the reek of cigarettes that clung to him tipped you off.

Now you found it near impossible. Body betraying every rational thought that was trying to breach past the surface as he devoured you from the inside out. Plus he threatened using a quirk-destroying drug on you. The very same that robbed the now pro-hero known as Lemillion when he was younger.

The prospect of losing your quirk was worse than being assaulted. You didn't know what he would do once you were caught. Never thinking it could become reality. Initially you think maybe he'll kill you and throw your corpse at Endeavor and Shoto's feet. Rub in another victory for the villains.

Hungry. So fucking hungry Dabi was when the moment came where he finally caught you. You were fast, like a shooting star, when you used your fire quirk to propel yourself through the sky. Like Endeavor did. But Dabi wanted it more. Since first reconnecting with his beloved sister, it was all Dabi could think of. His dreams were plagued by your sweet mewls.

Fingers rip away the material of the bottom of your uniform with vengeful talons.

The same fingers that now delve past your sopping wet folds that have a vice squeeze around the digits as you squeal, attempting once more to put distance between you and Dabi yet also bucking your hips against his fingers.

What scared you most about this whole thing was how mind numbingly amazing he was making you feel.

Oh it was fucked up for sure that he made you sob and cry from the pleasure that choked you. His obscene slurping of your pussy actually accomplished in making you more wet.

The first man to touch you like this. . . and it was Touya of all people. Your older brother. Someone who was supposed to protect you.

You feel sick like you're on the verge of throwing up. But each time you think you were going to hurl, a surge of pleasure courtesy of Dabi's tongue and fingers pulled you from the brink. Felt like he was giving you whiplash as you went from crawling out of your skin in disgust and earth shattering ecstasy.

Did you want him to stop? Yes. . . No. . . You didn't know anything anymore. Your life was already terrible in the past and you barely just finished healing from what Endeavor put the family through. This was something not even your therapist should know about.

When you try to cover your face from the heat of your own shame, Dabi hisses and viciously bites your labia. Up until then you'd been moderately quiet but that bite caused you to cry out loud.

"Nuh-uh. Let me see your fucking face, Miss Hero. Wanna see the dumb expression on it when I make you come." He takes another vicious nip to your labia, making sure you would obey unless you wanted your pussy to become his chew toy. Tremors run through your arm as it slides away from your face to reveal the beads of tears that accumulate in your eyes and the bright red hue of your cheeks. Your bottom lip is chewed raw from your efforts to remain quiet.

How pathetic. You were supposed to be a prohero yet there you were splayed out in front of your villainous brother.

When your thighs seize and your body quakes, your head grows hazy and so light that you think you'll faint. Your orgasm ricochets in your bones, slick walls of your cunt convulsing around Dabi's fingers. That shit eating grin flaming wider across that it puts stress on the staples that hold his face together.

"Haa. . ." A breath is exhaled from him as he cruelly slides his finger out of you, fighting against your vice grip on them. "What would our father have to say about your behavior?" The crotch of his pants grow uncomfortable, the head of his cock smooshed against his zipper. Oh, the thought of Endeavor finding the both of you in this compromising position got him even harder. The shock that would seize the face of Japan's number one hero.

And if the rest of the world found out, well better for Dabi. Everyone would know that you belong to him. That he alone tainted the baby of the Todoroki family. The Spare Twin that no one cared much for. Your big brother doubts there's anyone in the world who adores and loves you more than he does.

His thumb smears the mess of your pussy across your puffed and tender. Enjoying the way you whine and squirm as he continues to overstimulate your already tender cunt. He knew you would be delicious, but never anticipated you being this fucking good. Dabi didn't want to pull away but there was more fun to be had before anyone goes looking for you.

For a moment he thinks back to the phone in his back pocket. A titillating idea comes to his mind of taking a picture of you in this state and anonymously sending it to Endeavor's agency.

Dabi wanted to enjoy this moment though. Possibly for the first time in years, Dabi manages to push Endeavor far out of his mind. Instead he lets himself be consumed by the sight of your chest heaving and the bright red that rose to your cheeks. You half-heartedly glare at him. He had half the mind to steal you. Take you away. Tomura highly advised against it. While you weren't the show stopper like Shoto, you were still very important to the public eye. They didn't need the heroe's efforts growing tenfold because a fellow prohero was kidnapped by them.

Instead, Dabi would just have to take what he could get and attempt to display discipline though he felt like a ravenous animal as he grazes his teeth against your skin. Your body radiates heat against his tongue, salt from your sweat delighting his taste buds. How on earth was it possible for someone to taste so good? It made him contemplate cannibalism. Would your meat taste just as good?

His hand lands on his belt, contemplating the pretty mess he's made of you. He'd have to wait until next time to truly claim you.

Leaning down to your pussy lips one more, Dabi gives it a passionate kiss that has you squealing once more. "Until next time, Miss Hero."

[actuallysaiyan]

Stay With Me(Sugar Daddy!Enji Todoroki x Fem!Sugar Baby!Reader)

warnings: smut, angst, swearing, heart break, sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship, post time skip in MHA, Enji has a prosthetic arm, Enji and Rei are divorced, Touya lives!, power dynamics, unprotected sex, kissing, slight dark themes, abandonment,

word count: 3.2k

pairings: Sugar Daddy!Enji Todoroki x Fem!Sugar Baby!Reader

summary: Enji gets the idea to hire a sugar baby, and while he thinks it's a good idea, he didn't think he'd develop feelings for her. instead of trying to work through these new feelings, he pushes her away.

a/n: for my little fic trade with @cherryblossombankai!! I hope you'll enjoy this mess!

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai , @thestarsystemsworld @pixelcafe-network

It had been his oldest son’s idea. They were all a little worried about him; his children thought about how this would affect his psyche. Rei had been right to leave. It wasn’t about the war, the fighting or even anything else. It was about her own feelings and her own want to pursue something different in life.

This left Enji with a lot of alone time. He enjoyed it at first. He finally felt like he could work on atoning for the hurt and the sins. He could self-reflect and think about how he was going to become a better father, a better hero, a better friend. Of course, he wasn’t doing the pro hero work anymore, but he was wondering how he could use his old image as a way to help out with charities.

And of course, since Touya had recovered from their last encounter, he’s been helping Touya become a member of society. It had been tough at first, considering how much damage he had done to his first born. But slowly, they were able to make amends and even attend therapy together. Touya felt like he could actually be a part of this world and Enji felt like he would be able to help his son through these tough times.

So when Touya came up to him one afternoon with his bright idea, Enji was very curious. Though, he had to admit that he wasn’t expecting it to be this.

“You should find someone to keep you company,” Touya says between bites of his dinner.

“That’s why you live with me, son.” Enji concludes.

Touya laughs, “Nah dad…you need to get laid. Come on, I know you do. It’s the only thing missing in your miserable life.”

This last comment causes Enji to spit out his drink. Did he hear that correctly? It had certainly been some time since he last had sex, but it wasn’t the first thing on his mind. Enji sighs softly before wiping his mouth off with a napkin.

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” He finally says to Touya.

Touya shrugs. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is that you could find yourself a little honey. I know of this app that connects you with—”

“I’m not going to fucking download some stupid dating app!”

And with that, dinner was over. Touya had pushed his buttons a bit too much and Enji went to bed miserable that night. He was lonely. He was tired of his bed feeling so damn cold. It was sad and pathetic. Here he was, nearing his mid-fifties and he had nobody to share this life with other than his oldest son who would one day leave the nest.

So the next day, he asked Touya for the app. Touya didn’t say anything more than give him tips on how to set up the profile.

Enji met with a number of young women. It was for a sugar baby, which he didn’t realize at first. But it suited him just fine. All he had to do was give the girl a little spending money and she’d go out on dates with him and fuck him. Truly it was the perfect solution to his loneliness. 

A lot of the young women were thrilled to be matched with former pro hero Endeavor. Some of them were disgusted. Then there were some who were just in it for the money. Still, he craved a little connection. Something to let him know he still meant something to someone.

When he met you, he found you so alluring. You were young, sweet and definitely beautiful. You made him laugh, which was a first during all these stupid dates. And he made you laugh, which made his stomach flip every time he heard it. Despite this, things were a bit more rocky than you had anticipated the first few times you two got together.

There were some ground rules you had to follow. After your initial date to get to know one another, Enji laid down the law with you.

“I don’t want you seeing anyone else. Mostly due to a safety thing…” he didn’t want to admit that he’d get jealous if you were to see someone else while seeing him. “If I call you or text you, I expect you to come to me as soon as possible.”

You nodded your head, surprised to hear him be this firm and disciplinary with you after such a fun first date together.

“This is the allotted allowance for now.” He slides over a folded piece of paper. “There are certain things I expect of you, but we don’t have to do the relationship thing.”

This surprised you in some ways. But who were you to judge him? You had initially joined to help pay your college debt. Still, you wanted some sort of companionship. Enji lists off the expectations to you: to keep him satisfied, to join him during special events and hero galas, to go on dates with him from time to time.

“Any money I send to you, I want you to use portions of it to buy yourself cute outfits.” He finally concludes the meeting. He hands you a wad of cash without looking back at you. 

You’re beginning to wonder what you got yourself into.

It starts off fairly easy. He asks you to come over a few times, but it only leads to kissing. He doesn’t even really look you in the eyes. It just seems too intimate for him, and he can’t handle the way you look at him. No, he fucking hates the way you look at him like he’s actually worth something. He fucking hates that you treat him like an actual human and not this disgraced man.

You get to know Touya fairly well, which doesn’t surprise you. He’s around your age, which does make things a little weird. But neither him nor Enji make it awkward for you. Touya knows you’re there to help his father transition into a different part of his life.

The first time Enji invites you out on a real date, you feel nervous about it. It’s the first time since your first meeting that you two will be going out. You’re not surprised to find a delivery person at your door an hour later with a huge bouquet of roses and a beautiful dress just for you. The card is signed by Enji.

He charms you in so many ways. He makes you question every single thing. He’s such an enigma, and you know he’s worth cracking the code. Deep down inside, you knew you were starting to fall for the traumatized man.

After the date, he invites you back to his place. And he’s rough with you. He kisses you like he’s never kissed someone in his life. It’s teeth clashing and tongues wrestling for dominance. He bends you over the side of the couch, lifting up the skirt of the dress he bought for you.

“You’ve been a good girl so far,” he growls in your ear as he pumps one of his fingers into you. You gasp at the sudden stretch. “Why don’t you let me show you how a real man makes love?”

The words that you were about to say get stuck in your throat as Enji curls his fingers deep inside of you. Your knees buckle and you’re very happy that he has you bent over the couch because you weren’t going to be able to stand up on your own two feet. You gasp once again when the big man kneels down behind you and begins lapping at your went cunt like it’s his last meal.

You’ve never had anyone push you to the edge quite like Enji does. And when you’re barely recovered from that earth shattering orgasm, he’s pushing into you from behind. It’s a rough pace to begin with, but it slowly gets more passionate. He pulls you to be flush against his chest, pressing kisses to your neck and shoulders.

“So beautiful…” he grunts in your ear. “So fucking perfect.”

He makes you cum a few more times before finishing on your ass and back. He doesn’t look you in the eyes when he throws the washcloth in your hands. Then he hands you his credit card, leaving you to get dressed and out of the house all by yourself.

The weeks that follow are even lonelier than before you met Enji. He only sends you money. He doesn’t ask for you to come see him anymore. It’s almost like he’s ashamed of himself and ashamed of what transpired between you two. It breaks your heart to think of him all alone in his bed,

You try to continue on with your life, but you have become quite attached to the older man. You remember the way you made each other laugh during that first meeting. You had butterflies in your tummy every time you thought about that. You know that deep down, Enji Todoroki is quite the charming man who is very much worthy of love.

Still, the days go by and you barely hear from him. You wonder if maybe the arrangement has been called off. You try to reach him, but you get no answer. The money comes in dribs and drabs, but nothing concrete. You finally gain the courage to message Touya.

The news that comes from Touya isn’t surprising, but it does break your heart. Apparently since that night, Enji has been locking himself in his room most days and not coming out. He’s been hiding from the world. The oldest Todoroki son doesn’t know what to make of it, but he has a sneaking suspicion it has to do with you.

“Look, can you just come over and talk to him? He’s just not doing well.”

How could you deny this? You get ready to head out to their place. You don’t know what to expect when you get there, but you’re hoping you can help out. Touya opens the door and he leads you to his father’s bedroom.

Quietly you knock. Your heart is in your throat. The door swings open and there stands the man you’ve developed feelings for. He looks worse for wear. His eyes narrow when he sees you. You’ve never seen him this disheveled before. He’s not even wearing his prosthetic arm.

“What the hell are you doing here? Didn’t you get the message?!” He snaps angrily. “I don’t want you around anymore!”

“B-but you never said that to me! You just stopped talking to me. Dropped me like I was yesterday’s news.”

He scoffs, “Quit the dramatics! You knew what this was. You know what you are to me.”

This breaks your heart. He might as well have hit you. It’s what it feels like. Despite knowing what this started as, you had hopes that maybe it would turn into something more. Maybe you and Enji would fall in love, but it’s not the way it’s going at all. It’s turning into a complete nightmare.

You sniffle and try to hide your tears. “If that’s how you feel, then I’ll stop bothering you.��

You leave the house, your heart heavy. It’s not the outcome you wanted, but it’s the outcome that happened. Maybe sometime down the line, you and Enji could fall in love and be happy. Or maybe you’d stay apart and move on with your lives.

Slowly, despite your broken heart, you move on. You find other things in your life. You meet new people. You get away from the sugar baby scene and you begin to see things from a different perspective. You missed Enji, yes, but things were different now. You were a different woman.

It was months later when you caught a glimpse of him. You two just happened to be at the same grocery store. He looks better than the last time you saw him. There’s something inside of you that desperately wants to go talk to him, but you know it’ll probably only cause trouble. So you let it slide, hiding your pain by leaving the store before he even spots you.

This begins to happen a bit more. You see Enji while you’re out and about. He seems happier than the last time you saw him. You wonder if maybe he’s seeing someone new. Someone who could treat him well and love him in the way he deserved. As much as you wish for that person to be you, you think you’ve missed your chance. You should have been more attentive to his needs.

Eventually, you accidentally bump into him. Your heart races in your chest when your body hits into the mass of muscles. His eyes widen and he smiles softly. There’s a pink tinge on his cheeks. It’s been almost a whole year since the last time you two talked.

“H-hi…” you offer shyly.

He smiles again. “Hi, how are you?”

This causes the two of you to begin gravitating towards one another. You two stand in the aisle at the grocery store and talk to one another like you were two old friends and not a sugar baby and her former sugar daddy. It tugged at your heartstrings like nothing else could. You were wondering if you could ever get over Enji Todoroki.

“Hey, want to go for coffee sometime?” He says, reaching over to gently brush some hair from your face.

You nod your head. “Yeah! I’d love that.”

A week from that day, you stand in front of one of your favorite cafes waiting for Enji. He arrives soon after, a bouquet of roses in his hands. Your eyes widen when you look at him. He seems almost completely different from the sad man you used to know. He kisses your cheek softly, handing you the bouquet.

Coffee goes well. You’re really surprised by how soft and sweet this man is. When you were his sugar baby, things didn’t go quite the way you wanted. It was always a little more awkward than you had anticipated. But now it felt like you two were getting along in a totally different way.

When he drops you off later on, you two make plans to see each other again. But when the day comes, he completely stands you up. You feel broken hearted. How could he do this to you again? How could he reach into your chest and rip your heart out again when you thought this could be different for you two?

You weren’t going to let him off easy. You make your way to his house by taxi. You’re fuming as you think of all the things you’re going to tell him. As you try to keep a levelhead, you know you’re going to explode.

Touya is the one who lets you in. He’s surprised to see you. He has a million and one questions, but he knows he can wait to ask you. This isn’t what’s important now. Based on the look on your face and how you stormed past him to get to Enji’s room, there is something else going on.

And you begin to slam your fist on Enji’s bedroom door. When he opens it, he’s shocked to see you. He figured you would have just forgotten about this old man. It’s what he deserves. He shouldn’t be allowed to even try to have something of a normal relationship with you.

“How dare you!? How fucking dare you, Enji Torodoki?! You keep fucking ripping my heart out of my chest.” There are tears streaming down your cheeks now.

“You shouldn’t be here!” He yells. “You’re supposed to just fucking forget about me!”

Both of you are angry. The tension is so high right now. You’re practically shaking as the words he said really hit you. You were supposed to just forget about him? How could you forget about the man who actually made you feel something instead of the steady numbness that life provides?

You push yourself against him, your chest mashing itself into his now-doughy body. He wasn’t nearly as muscular as he used to be. He looks at himself as this complete failure. He’s not meant to be loved.

“Enji Todoroki, I fucking love you. Do you understand me?! I love you!”

It’s all he needs to hear before he’s picking you up and pulling you into a heated kiss. He’s hungry as he kisses you, but it’s a little slower this time. It’s like he wants to memorize the taste and feel of you. Hurriedly, he pulls you into his bedroom and closes the door.

You’re pushed onto the bed, and you grab him by the collar of his shirt. He laughs softly when he lands on top of you, slightly crushing you. But it feels oh-so good. You never want this moment to end. You run your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as he leans back in to kiss you. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“I love you too,” he pants between heated kisses. “I was so stupid to hurt you over and over again. I just couldn’t bring myself to drag you down to my level. You deserve the world.”

You shake your head. “You’re the one I want. Can’t you see that?”

He cups your face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away your tears. Enji continues to kiss you over and over, pulling your clothes off with a needy haste. You do the same, making sure to spend extra time caressing his body. He feels old and worn out and washed up, but the way you touch him reminds him that maybe he can be loved.

Enji spends a long time kissing you all over. His tongue soothes over every little inch of your body. You can’t believe this is happening. It feels like heaven just to have him touching you in this way. When he finally has you ready to take him, you’re more than ready.

He slides into you slowly, watching your face contort into pure pleasure. Enji wants to commit this look into his mind for all eternity. Because that to him proves that he can do something right. He ruts into you deeply, but slowly. Every thrust is full of longing and love and need that neither of you could even put into words.

Your wrap your legs around him, pulling him into you even deeper. He smiles before burying his face in the crook of your neck. Enji places little love bites all over your tender flesh as he brings you to orgasm. The sounds you make just for him are what push him even further to his own peak.

“C-can I…inside?” He asks, his tone almost bashful.

You nod eagerly. “Please daddy.”

You watch as his eyes roll back and he growls. His body tenses as he begins to shoot his seed deep inside of you, and then he slowly stills. He holds onto you like you’re about to disappear.

“I love you, I always have. I was a dumb old man and made you feel like you weren’t good enough.” He finally confesses. “But I won’t ever do it anymore. No more…”

You kiss him back, smiling. “I love you too, Enji. I trust you.”

He contents himself with holding you close, running his fingers through your hair. Tomorrow, he’ll make it all up to you. He promises from this day forward, he’s going to show you that he can be a better man.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[doumadono]

Silent Waves, Silent Wounds - Touya Todoroki x Reader

A/N: today's episode broke my heart and made me cry uncontrollably. With a nice prompt set for this week's challenge in a community I'm part of, I decided to combine the two. I just hope my Touya will survive. Gif was made by @gamergirl-niffler

MY HERO ACADEMIA

Touya's first breaths of freedom were laced with the sterile scent of antiseptics and the distant echoes of calamity.

Beneath the flickering streetlights of Musutafu, shadows twirled across the damp pavement, casting the world in veils of half-truths and murmured secrets.

It was upon a night cloaked in despair that Touya Todoroki, shrouded in the remnants of his shattered past, escaped the suffocating confines of what should have been a sanctuary. The hospital, ostensibly a bastion of healing and hope, had morphed into nothing but a prison, all under the malevolent gaze of All For One.

In a moment fueled by raw desperation and a primal urge for freedom, Touya, with hands trembling and heart pounding against the cage of his ribcage, ignited the very foundations that had ensnared him. Flames, hungry and unrestrained, licked upwards, clawing at the structure with a ferocity. Fire roared through the hallways, a fierce, unforgiving inferno that consumed everything in its path — medical charts, synthetic bed linens, the false promises of recovery.

As the inferno raged behind him, Touya stumbled into the cold embrace of the night.

The city loomed large and indifferent, its countless lights flickering like distant stars, unreachable and cold. Each step was a battle, his body a map of wounds both fresh and long endured, scars that told tales he could barely remember, tales of a mere boy who once dreamed of heroism but found himself ensnared in a nightmare of his father's making.

He moved through the shadows, a spectral figure haunted by the echoes of his past and the uncertain horrors of his future. Tonight, the world was both his enemy and his ally, hiding him from those who would seek to drag him back to that hellish place, yet offering no comfort from the relentless grip of his solitude and sorrow. His face, marred with scars that told stories of a tragic past and unresolved pain, was not one that people usually turned to for comfort.

As he navigated through the dimly lit streets, his eyes were cautious and wary of the stares that followed him like specters.

It was then he saw you - a girl sitting alone on the curb, your sobs cutting through the muffled sounds of the city like a siren’s call. You were young, perhaps no older than he, with tears streaking your cheeks and your shoulders trembling under the weight of your unseen burdens.

Despite his fears and the fresh pain of his own memories, something within him stirred - a remnant of the hero he once aspired to be. Hesitant, he approached you, his voice barely above a whisper after he cleared his throat, trying to sound normal, even though he knew it was no longer possible. “Hey, are you okay?”

You jerked your head up, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and surprise as they landed on his disfigured features.

For a heartbeat, Touya thought you would scream, run away, or recoil in horror.

But then, something remarkable happened - your expression softened, and your initial fright melted into a sad, understanding smile. “Not really,” you confessed, wiping your tears away with the back of your shaking hand. “My dad… he drinks too much. And my mom, she doesn’t really care. She threw me out tonight. Said she’d had enough of me being useless.”

The words struck a chord in Touya. Abandonment, pain, a longing for something better - themes that resonated deeply within his own life. Sitting heavily beside you on the cold curb, he offered you a timid smile, one that seemed almost out of place on his scarred visage. "I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a mixture of warmth and a chilling detachment born from years of conditioning under his father’s harsh regime. “I… I know what it’s like to feel like you have no one.”

You studied him, your reddened eyes lingering on his scars with a curiosity born from your own pain rather than judgement. “What happened to you?” you asked gently, perhaps too gently for the horror that his story contained.

Touya looked away, his eyes tracing the patterns of light and shadow on the ground. “I don’t remember everything,” he confessed. “But I know I was trying to prove something to my dad. It didn’t end well, as you can see.”

You sat in silence, the world around you bustling with life, yet oblivious to the shared moment of grief between two strangers.

People passed by, their glances sharp and sometimes filled with a disdain that neither of you were unfamiliar with.

Sensing Touya’s discomfort, you made a decision. “Let’s go somewhere else,” you suggested, a spark of resolve lighting up your tear-stained face. “Somewhere away from prying eyes. I know a nice place, if you'd like to join me.”

Touya nodded casually, “I think I’d like that. I have nowhere to be anyway.”

Without another word, you stood, holding out you hand to help him up. Your touch was warm, a stark contrast to the coldness he had come to expect from the world.

Together, you walked through the deserted streets, your steps in sync, until the city sounds faded into the background, replaced by the soothing rhythm of waves crashing against the shore.

Beneath the expansive canopy of the night sky, the beach lay deserted, bathed in the ethereal, silvery glow of the moon. The ocean before them transformed into a shimmering tapestry, each wave weaving threads of light across the dark canvas of water. It was here, with the cool sand cradling your steps and the vast, relentless sea stretching into infinity, that you discovered a fleeting sanctuary — a momentary escape from the ravages of your tormented existences.

As you settled onto the sand, the ocean's eternal murmurs surrounding you, Touya found himself unexpectedly comforted by the raw, natural beauty of the scene. Yet, he was taken aback when you revealed that it was not just chance that brought you to this tranquil haven in the dead of night.

“I come here often, especially after fights at home,” you confessed softly, your eyes reflecting the moonlight like fragments of a broken mirror. “The sound of the waves… it calms the storm inside me. Maybe it can do the same for you.”

Touya hesitated before his voice broke the silence. "I'm like these waves," he murmured, his voice tinged with a haunting sadness. "Crashing again and again, with no control, no end. I don't even remember why I started… what I was trying to prove." His gaze was lost to the horizon, where the dark sea met the darker sky, his face a mask of sorrow sculpted by the silvery light.

"It's hard, isn't it?" you said softly, pulling your knees closer to your chest, feeling the chill of the night seeping through your clothes. "Feeling like you're caught in a storm with no shelter in sight. I sit here, night after night, wondering if the screaming will ever stop, if there will ever be a night without tears, without all this emptiness."

"Does it help? Coming here, hearing the waves?" Touya asked.

"It doesn't stop the pain," you admitted, "but sometimes, it makes it bearable. The sea doesn't judge, doesn't demand. It just is. And for a little while, I can just be too, without worrying about the next wave that might knock me down."

"I wish I could remember what peace feels like," he confessed, his words blending with the whisper of the wind.

You reached out, your hand brushing against his, a small gesture of comfort in the overwhelming vastness of your shared solitude.

"Maybe we can't go back to who we were," you suggested, your voice a tentative whisper against the symphony of the sea. "But perhaps we can find new reasons to look forward to the sunrise."

Touya's hand trembled slightly under yours, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he gripped your hand, his hold tentative but needing the connection. "I'd like that," he said, a flicker of a smile ghosting across his lips, as fragile and fleeting as a wave’s crest as a single tear rolled down his cheek. "To look forward to something, to hope for something better."

[revilloutionaire]

is it just me or was endeavor's arc never about him deserving redemption??? nor was he ever actually redeemed? like, atonement vs redemption are two very different things, and watering him down to "he is a horrible person henceforth he does not deserve to be written a redemption arc." in my opinion, that's just a tragic waste of his character.

endeavour's existence as a hero actually brings a very important and nuanced layer to the world of MHA and also brings up the question; is a person's good deeds enough to measure their worth?

think about it: todoroki enji is an abusive father and husband. he bought his wife, participated in a genetics scheme, neglected two of his children, pushed his eldest to his limit psychologically, and physically abused his youngest.

but think of endeavour: the number two hero. his efficiency rates are the highest in the country. he keeps property damage to the absolute minimum and runs an agency with an expansive network of sidekicks. and what is this man's job? he SAVES LIVES. it is his literal JOB to SAVE PEOPLE, and he is THE BEST in his field. it would be one thing if he were incompetent, but endeavour is literally incredible at his job.

the dichotomy proposes a philosophical question: would you remove this man from his job when he is so instrumental to the protection of the population?

i understand how severe his abuse was. i understand how severe abuse IS. it ruins the very foundations of who you are. todoroki enji effectively has ruined his family. but he has something that many abusers do not have: guilt.

his guilt does not absolve him of his crimes. he is aware of this. but he is attempting to take accountability. and while he is entirely too late, would you rather have the man not try at all? and for the people who want him locked up: what is endeavour serving a prison sentence going to do for the population? sow growing fear and distrust in a society where people are losing faith in their heroes?

there's one more layer that people forget, or in some cases, refuses to acknowledge: he loves his family. he only comes to love them far too late. and thats another thing people forget: abusers can truly love the people they abuse. and enji loves his kids, you can see it in the way he embraces natsuo after he thought he almost died, how he embraced touya even if he thought he would die with him, how proud he is of shouto as a hero, and how thankful he is for fuyumi. he still remembers rei's favorite flowers and always has them sent for her. the problem is that it's all too late. too little, too late. but it's THERE and i find the writing incredible.

i just think that endeavour is such a brilliantly written character. not redeeming endeavour would've made him a cartoonishly evil character, and undermined the themes mha depicts. what makes a hero? what level of morality does someone need to have? if a man is a murderer, but ends up saving another in a heroic act, is he now a hero? redemption is never something people deserve. it is something they earn, and whether endeavour was truly redeemed was a personal decision, that only the people he abused could ever make.

the beautiful part of it all, was that every todoroki had a different response to it. because every single one of their responses were valid.

natsuo walked away and went no-contact. enji would never see his future daughter-in-law, or grandchild, or anyone from natsuo's family ever again. and that's something enji will forever have to live with.

rei stays by her husbands side. she chooses to forgive. if only because she feels guilty too.

fuyumi genuinely wants to reconnect her family, not just for enji's sake, but for her own. because she wants to cling to the only family she has.

shouto wants to establish his own identity away from his father, and become a hero in spite of what enji has done to him. because it's who he is.

and touya wants to burn it all down.

these are all very, very real responses to abuse and destructive family dynamics. and it was all beautifully written. keeping up with the todorokis is honestly some of the best family writing i've seen in shounen. its rare to have a full family written into the picture with such realistic and complex problems, that show their lives as a family not just from childhood, as almost all animes do, but how their dynamics shift and change as everyone in the family grows and moves on with their lives. families aren't just shed for narrative purposes like it's mostly written in manga and shounen. they stick with you almost your whole life. and endeavour is an important part of the tapestry created- "not redeeming" him is the same as throwing him out of the picture.

because endeavour is a realistic depiction of an abusive man. and i know from personal experience- abusers are not cartoonish monsters. they're real people with emotions like everybody else. and the harm they inflict on others always backfires on them- they'll feel it for the rest of their lives. and so does endeavour. he destroyed his own family, and he's not getting it back. he knows this. so he's not going to try and get all of them to love him again, he knows that would he pointless.

hence the atonement. he's going to be there from now on, however he can, because he knows that nothing he can ever do will fix his mistakes. he will never be at that dining table with his family.

anyway lol end of ramble i just think he's an amazing character and stories should explore more themes based around him and the todoroki family

[inkykeiji]

maybe next time

character: todoroki touya | dabi warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudo-cest (eventual step brother + step sister), fem!reader, pet names, drug use, generally toxic and manipulative behaviour words: 4.4k

notes: just a lil relationship study set two weeks after touya and reader’s initial encounter in the kitchen! no smut, but the piece contains dark content and heavy themes.

It’s late when the knock comes, the tiny clock on your desk reading a couple minutes past midnight, and you frown, glancing towards your closed bedroom door. 

You were positive Rei and your father had already gone to bed.

“Come in,” you call softly, a slight tremor of anxiety sewn into your words.

The brass knob begins to turn, slow and steady, the door creaking open a second later to reveal a dark, spiky silhouette, Touya’s face swimming into view a moment later as he peers through the gap. 

“Touya?” 

The surprise must show on your face, his name nothing more than a gasp of shock on your tongue, because the corner of his mouth curls up, something sinister wriggling on his face. An eyebrow raises, and his head tilts a little, as if to say aren’t you forgetting something? 

“-Niichan,” you tack on hastily, and his smirk grows. 

He holds your gaze for a moment, lidded eyes boring into a wide stare, your breath stagnating in your lungs as you wait. 

“What’re you doing tomorrow night?” he finally asks, pushing the door open wider and inviting himself into your room, heel kicking it shut a moment later.

“Tomorrow?” you repeat, brows furrowing as you attempt to recall. “Uh, I dunno. Studying, I guess?” 

Throwing a scoff over his shoulder, Touya regards you with skepticism. “On Halloween?” 

“Y-Yes?”

Your answer comes out hesitant, as if you’re afraid of being wrong, and he snorts. 

“That’s lame.” 

He doesn’t look at you as he talks, strolling languidly around your room as his eyes sweep across the space, unhurried and interested. Slowing to a stop in front of your vanity, his dirty fingers flip open a jewellery box, sapphire scanning the contents quickly before flicking the box shut again. 

“I don’t believe you,” he pivots on his heel, belt scraping against pink ivory wood as he leans back against the edge of the vanity, arms crossed loosely over his chest. 

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he shrugs a shoulder, but his eyes are gleaming. “Are you lying to me?”

“No, Touya-nii, I swear—” 

And, really, you should be ashamed of the way the words rush from your mouth in a singular breath, head shaking with ardency. “I don’t have any plans.”

Silence blankets the room once more as he observes you, stare narrowing. Your desk chair creeks as you subconsciously lean forward, physically imploring him. 

“Pretty girl like you doesn’t have any party invites? That doesn’t sound right.” 

The subtle compliment has your eyes darting down to the tangled mess of hands in your lap, heat flooding your cheeks, his unblinking gaze heavy and scalding. It’s hard to suppress the shy smile incessantly tugging at the edges of your lips, and your head droops further, chin tucked into your chest. 

“See? You’re even hiding from me.” He’s moving again, footfalls muted, the hem of his jeans dragging across hardwood, just a touch too long for him without his boots. “You know, it’s not very nice to lie to your niichan.”

The term sends a jolt rippling through your blood, still not used to hearing it drip from his lips, and your head snaps up immediately, instant denials bubbling up in your throat. 

“I promise I’m not lying,” you nearly whine out. “I—I’d never lie to my—my niichan.” 

It’s still foreign in your mouth, but you spit it from your tongue anyway, trembling and awkward, gazing up at him with a particular desperation, begging to be believed. 

He’s nearly toe-to-toe with you now, looking down at you with those bright, bright eyes, pinprick pupils swimming in a sea of azure. His stare is sharp and hungry, skinning the flesh from your bones and consuming it, and you let him, willingly holding still as he feeds.

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.” 

“I promise,” you repeat, a breathy vow. 

“You better,” he says, voice low and smooth, remnants of a threat infusing his tone. “Because good girls don’t ever lie.” 

“No,” you shake your head, trancelike, ensnared in his hypnotic eyes. “They don’t.” 

Something flickers in his irises, a shard of pride shining in the dim light of your bedroom, and his smirk mollifies to something softer, something sweeter, something you hope might be just for you.

“Good,” he murmurs, nimble fingers reaching out to stroke your temple in a feathery caress. 

Satisfaction swells your chest and you preen beneath his praise, suddenly starved for more—his touch, his attention, a soft noise of contentment vibrating in your throat as you attempt to nuzzle into his fingertips, Touya huffing out a chuckle in response. 

He awards you with another stroke of his thumb, callus rough against your supple skin, and then he’s pulling away, stalking toward your fluffy pink bed as he continues, you quickly swivelling in your chair to follow him.

“Well, if you’re not doing anything tomorrow,” he begins, flopping himself down on your mattress, looking sorely out of place among lace and frills and cute stuffed animals. “Why don’t you come to a party with me?” 

A party?

“I—I, um,” your breath tangles in your throat and you cough a little, sputtering. “You…Really want that?”

“Sure,” he pushes himself up on his elbows, head quirked to one side. “Why not?” 

“It’s just—I’m—Isn’t it kind of, like, lame to have your little sister tag along?” 

Touya’s smile drops, and your heart sinks with his disappointment. 

“You know, if you don’t want to come, you can just say so.”

“No!” you hasten to say, head shaking frantically. “No, that’s not what I meant at all—”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you there, stupid.” 

“I’m sorry,” the apology tumbles from your lips automatically. “I’m sorry, Touya-nii, I didn’t—I really want to come with you.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, nails digging into the soft plastic of your armrests. “Absolutely, yes.” 

He pretends to contemplate, stretches the moment, lets you marinate in the uncertainty and soaks up your yearning for his approval. 

“Alright, it’s a deal.” He pushes himself up off your bed, grinning at the way your body visibly deflates. “Be ready for eight.”

“O-Okay. But…Um—”

A sigh is exhaled, slow and sharp, and he glances at you over his shoulder, hand flexing around your doorknob. “What?”

You wince at his growing impatience, eyes darting to your trembling knees before peeking at him again, protected by a shield of eyelashes. 

“Is it a costume party? I don’t have anything to wear.” 

Annoyance fades from his face immediately, eroded by something nefarious.

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” he says, smirk resurfacing, tinged with malice. “Niichan will take care of it all.” 

  ✰          ✰          ✰    

Halloween night finds you on the counter of the upstairs bathroom, your older brother positioned between your spread thighs, callused fingers wreathed around your jaw as he holds your head in place. 

In the two short months you’ve known him, you’ve never been this close to him. Sapphire eyes stay focused on his actions, carefully following the trajectory of his fingers as they draw tiny black capillaries beneath your eyes with a thin stick of eyeliner.

He shifts a little, sharp hipbones bumping against the bare flesh of your inner thighs as he readjusts his stance, and your muscles tense, toes curling in an attempt to keep from squeezing your legs shut.

It is maybe a little inappropriate, just how close he actually is, gentle exhales infused with smoky hickory wafting across your cheeks, damp and hot. You can’t help but lick at your lips, hoping to soak up remnants of his breath, disappointed to taste nothing more than cheap Halloween makeup. 

“Come now,” he murmurs, stare never leaving his hand as it works. “Don’t ruin niichan’s hard work.” 

Pins of humiliation prick your cheeks and you squeak out an apology, resisting the urge to jerk your face free from his grasp, yearning to hide from his inquisitive eyes.

It is maybe a little inappropriate, just how reactive you are to him—just how much you crave his attention, just how easily you melt beneath his heat, a handful of words and a wicked smirk reducing you to something pliable and easy in his rough palms. 

It is definitely inappropriate, just how sinfully strong those feelings towards him are—feelings no good little sister should ever feel for her big brother, feelings that have your stomach swooping and your mouth watering and your thighs clenching, saliva collecting beneath your tongue and slick arousal seeping through cotton panties. 

This man is supposed to be your brother for Christ’s sake, yet here you are, fawning after him like some lovesick schoolgirl. 

It makes the costume he picked out for you ironically apt.

While you were in class, Touya had taken it upon himself to raid your closet in search of a last-minute Halloween costume—a plaid skirt from your high school years, now much too short to be considered wholly appropriate, and a button-up linen shirt, first button popped and last three left undone so Touya could tie your shirttails up in a knot, leaving your stomach exposed.

An undead schoolgirl, he had claimed when he presented it to you. 

“What are you going to be dressed up as?” you ask as Touya puts the finishing touches on the masterpiece he’s made of your face—a Chelsea smile stitched shut, not unlike his own tattoos. 

Stepping back, he straightens to his full height, the smirk worming on his face making your skin crawl, blue eyes darkening as he pulls a pair of nondescript black framed glasses from his back pocket.

“A teacher.” 

  ✰          ✰          ✰    

The basement is hazy, your nose wrinkling reflexively as the smell of burnt plastic envelopes you. Touya keeps your hand trapped tightly in his own while he navigates the space, glancing back over his shoulder and laughing at your reaction to the vapour saturating the room. 

What is that? you want to ask, eyes squinting against the putrid odour as you scan your surroundings, panic tingling in your chest at the sound of a glass pipe clacking against front teeth, a gentle crackling following a few seconds later. 

Oh. 

Your other hand curls around Touya’s wrist, nails biting into his flesh as you shuffle closer to him—so close that you bump into his back, fighting the impulse to bury your face against his spine. 

It’s okay, your inner voice echoes in your brain, a feeble attempt to calm the pounding against your ribs. You’re with Touya, you’re safe.

“What’s wrong?” he looks down at you, a wide smile slapped across his face, sapphire glittering with amusement. “You scared?”

“I—I’m—” 

The confession sticks in your throat, the words I’m terrified sounding much too childish and lame to tell your big brother, a rush of heat seeping into your cheeks.

But you don’t need to tell him; it seems he already knows. 

“Aww,” Touya coos, smile stretching to inhuman proportions. “That’s cute.” 

It’s spit from his mouth like it’s an insult, yet his eyes are gleaming, bright and alive with a misplaced excitement you couldn’t ever hope to understand. 

“Don’t worry,” he continues, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulder, a thumb stroking your bicep. “Niichan will protect you.”

Your body relaxes the instant it’s consumed by his embrace, a comforting cloak of home. It’s interesting how only a day ago you had feared him—feared his coolness, feared his callousness—yet now he acts as a solace, a safe place. 

“You promise?”

“Pinky,” he vows. “What’re big brother’s for?” 

Touya really does keep his promise, his arm slipping down to stay secured around your waist, heavy palm resting on your hip, fingers curling into your flesh slightly, massaging halfhearted lopsided circles into your bare skin.

He refuses to let go of you for a single second, dragging you along with him as he makes his customary rounds, greeting blurred faces painted with cheap makeup, half-melted by sweat. The hand on your hip has gone slippery with combined perspiration, but he grips you all the same, blunt nails nipping your flesh whenever he has you tug you out of the way.

It’s hard for you to catch much of the conversation exchanged between your big brother and an assortment of partygoers, the music too loud and the voices too slurred, their words encoded with foreign language and unfamiliar terms. 

It’s boring for the most part, and you’d feel exceptionally left out if it weren’t for Touya’s hand, hot and damp against your skin. 

It’s boring, but his touch is exciting, mind flooded with a never-ending stream of sordid thoughts about how such rough hands, peppered with hard calluses, would feel smoothing along your skin—up your skirt, between your thighs, along your waist, over your cotton panties…Would you be able to feel that hardened patch of tissue coating his thumb through the material if he were to stroke you there? 

Revulsion erupts across your body, followed by a scalding flush of shame, and you nuzzle your cheek against Touya’s chest, face half-hidden by the fabric of his shirt.

His scent cloaks you, a thick swamp of saliva collecting beneath your tongue, and you inhale deeper, filling your lungs with him, ribs expanding with his essence. Would his skin taste as spicy as he smells? Have any of these sloppy girls, stumbling in stilettos with cloudy heads full of crack cocaine, been afforded the privilege of finding out?

The sudden shock of jealousy that sears through your chest startles you, intense and blazing with unexplained hatred, and you wrap your other arm around his waist, fingers tangling in linen and tugging slightly, a silent claim. 

Really, you should feel disgusted in yourself—it isn’t right to be feeling such powerful emotions about a man who is supposed to be your brother, your big brother—but you just can’t help it, the envy potent and the desire primal. 

It seems like Touya consumes your self-discipline, burns it to smouldering cinders that simmer pitifully deep in the pit of your belly, and you find yourself indulging in your cravings despite knowing it’s wrong, so, so wrong. 

The party trudges on aimlessly and you stay drowned in Touya, steeping yourself in his aura, hoping to soak some of him up—as a memento, something to keep you company long after the party ends.

There is one guest, however, who stands out among the nondescript crowd to an almost impeccable degree. 

Touya doesn’t go looking for him. No, this man, sheathed in gold and crimson, finds him. 

The crowd parts for him like he’s some sort of messiah, faded eyes stealing glances as he advances towards the darkened corner Touya has stowed the two of you away in, pupils full of longing, of wanting, of hunger.

The air in your lungs evaporates in the radiance of his beauty, your eyes wide and glued to his form, your gaze slowly tracing over all of his features: the sharp, angular jaw, the dusting of aureate whiskers adoring his chin, the shimmering topaz irises, sharp and alert despite the man’s easygoing speech and languid tone.

He talks to Touya for a little, his words muffled to your ears, full attention enraptured by his breathtaking nature. It isn’t until he addresses you directly that his voice finally cuts through the haze, forcing you to tune back into his frequency, dry eyes blinking stickily as you descend back down to earth. 

“And who is this little miss?” 

His smile is teasing, but his eyes shine with undeniable sincerity, interest perked. 

“My little sister.” 

And it’s the way he says it—smug and proud and slightly possessive—that has you preening, presenting yourself to his friend with a swelled chest and a bashful smile, honoured to wear the title of Touya’s little sister.

“Oh?” the man looks toward Touya, grin curling into something corrupt. “Lucky you.” 

Turning back to you, the man holds out his hand. “I’m Keigo.” 

It takes you a moment to whimper out your own name, clumsily slotting your hand into his. His hand feels strong, but his grip is gentle—dainty, almost, as if he’s afraid of shattering your delicate bones. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Keigo dips his head, gentlemanly, and a giggle curdles in your throat. “Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a voice like a songbird?” 

Your head shakes, your whole body heating beneath his keen stare, biceps flexing around Touya’s waist as you re-embrace him. 

“Well, you do,” Keigo continues. “So airy and elegant—graceful, almost.” 

“You tryna recruit her or something?” 

The bite in Touya’s voice is nearly tangible, sharp and harsh, and it devours Keigo’s train of thought immediately, the man heeding the implicit warning of back the fuck off. 

It should make you feel sad, you think, that Touya’s being so mean to someone so lovely, but it doesn’t. Instead, it inspires a bout of giddiness to flood your chest, his concerning protectiveness conjuring a shy smile to form on your lips. 

Touya must notice in some regard, because his chest puffs out a little, his grip on your body tightening, a silent notion of I’m here, I’ve got you. 

“‘Wouldn’t dream of it,” Keigo eases off lightly with a pacifying smile. “Just an observation, s’all.”

Keigo’s surrender seems to satisfy Touya, though, and they slip back into a boring conversation, peppered with amounts and weights and dollars, your presence forgotten, tucked securely away beneath the arm of your big brother. 

And, really, you don’t mind it there—it’s cozy, and it’s warm, and it’s safe—until you have to pee. 

“N-Niichan,” your knuckles curl in the cotton of his shirt, tugging down a little. “Niichan. Touya-nii.” 

He looks down at you, brows furrowed slightly in confusion. 

“What?” 

“I—” your eyes dart to Keigo, who feigns disinterest, then back to Touya, his gaze mimicking the trajectory of yours. “I have to pee.” 

A smirk materializes on his face and something akin to dread unfurls in the pit of your stomach, thick and tarry.

“No problem,” he says easily, but you can’t shake the feeling something is off. “I’ll bring you to the washroom.” 

And bring you to the washroom, he does. What you don’t expect is for his palm to catch the door, just as you’re squeaking out your thanks, a big black boot wedged in the doorframe as collateral. 

There isn’t a moment to question what he’s doing, because before your stunned mind can even comprehend it, Touya’s shoving forward, pushing himself through the small space and into the washroom with you. 

“Gotta make sure you stay safe,” he says as way of explanation, nonchalant with a shrugged shoulder, as though this is normal behaviour. 

Blinking slowly, your head quirks, forehead puckered. “You could’ve just stood outside the door…”

“And, what? Break my promise?” His eyes are hard, his brows knitted, as if he’s offended you even insinuated such a thing. “What kind of big brother do you think I am?” 

The kind who forcibly intrudes private spaces, apparently. 

“No, I mean—It’s just—Is this really necessary?” 

“I made you a promise,” Touya annunciates slowly, the pace insinuating your stupidity, his gaze boring into your own, imploring you to understand. “And I intend to keep that promise.” 

Claws of panic encase your heart, your chest beginning to feel tight and heavy, as if his steady stare is depressing your ribs, pressing the life from your lungs. 

You think you are finally beginning to understand the full extent of Touya’s bullheadedness (as Rei calls it), because it is becoming abundantly clear that he will not be taking no for an answer, under any circumstances.

His unrelenting glare wears you down easily, quickly, and you can feel your bones crumpling beneath his eyes, haughtily staring down the bridge of his nose at your folding form. 

“Can you at least turn around?” you mutter out weakly, wincing at how pathetic your voice sounds, a timid request instead of a terse demand, one last desperate plea for privacy.

But the disapproval coating Touya’s face cracks, revealing sterling satisfaction, and he nods with a small smile, pivoting on the balls of his feet. “Of course.” 

It’s intimate in the most invasive way, to have his presence in the room as your skirt flips up and your panties pool around your ankles—white lace; you wonder if Touya likes lace?—his aura powerful and suffocating. 

“Wash your hands.” 

The order comes the moment the toilet flushes, calm and stern and strong over the rush of flowing water. 

“Y-Yes, niichan,” your head ducks obediently, even if he can’t see you, quickly thrusting your hands under the faucet. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs when he finally turns around, and his eyes are soft, melty, as you dry your hands on a dirty towel. 

You should feel ashamed, horrified, at the way you preen beneath his praise—an innate reaction, entirely subconscious as you’re drawn to his heat, a sunflower yearning for fiery sun—but you barely even notice it’s happening, the response so instinctual it feels natural, normal, right.

You expect it to be awkward after; he did just force you to pee in front of him, essentially, a violation of your basic rights as a human—but it isn’t. 

If anything, you suddenly feel inexplicably closer to him, as if the whole bizarre experience has united you in some way, a new bond birthed, a special secret to share between the two of you.  

The rest of the party passes in an incomprehensible blur, Touya the only constant in your mind—the feeling of his hands on your hips, palms rough but warm; the sensation of his fingers threaded through yours, slim and bony but strong in their grip, pressing intermittently into your knuckles with varying degrees of force; the warmth of his lap beneath your bum and his chest cushioning your back, one of his hands in both of yours as he allows you to idly trace the inked sutures lining the back of his hand, symbolically connecting puckered skin to healthy flesh. 

You’re pretty sure siblings aren’t supposed to act this way—touch like this, be this close—but you can’t be certain; maybe it’s different when the siblings aren’t related by blood? Or maybe, since you aren’t technically, officially step-siblings just yet, then it doesn’t count? 

Either way, if Touya’s doing it, then it’s probably okay, isn’t it? Touya presumably knows better than you do, anyway. Touya’s been a big brother to three other siblings all his life. 

And if Touya’s behaviour is okay, then it must mean that it’s okay for you to nestle into his body, face nuzzling into the junction of his shoulder and neck—a cozy little curve, perfect to cradle your cheek—as dainty little fingers crawl across his chest, right?

There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? Brothers and sisters cuddle sometimes, don’t they? This is mostly harmless, right?

So what if being this close to him ignites a flock of sparks to fizz in your tummy? So what if feeling his hands on your body—his palm petting the back of your head, his fingers trailing the notches of your spine—inspires your own greedy hands to wander, too: tiptoeing down the buttons lining his sternum, trailing along the collar of his shirt, aching to trace the sharp line of his jaw or twirl in inky tufts of hair at the base of his skull.  

And so what if this makes you crave more of him—more of his touch, more of his time—what’s so bad about a little sister wanting more of her brother’s attention? 

It’s not a big deal, is it? That’s normal, isn’t it? 

He’s so warm, and he’s so strong, and he smells so good, your eyes slipping shut against your better judgement, the pulsing thrum of his blood rushing through the thick veins in his neck, steady and calm, the perfect lullaby. 

You have no idea what time it is when Touya finally hoists you up, legs locking loosely around his waist and arms draped over his shoulders as he carries you from the dingy basement. 

“S’going on?” you mumble into his collarbone, question smeared across his skin.

“Party’s over,” he chuckles, and you can feel his amusement, deep and warm and real, rumbling against your ribs. “And someone needs to be put to bed.” 

“Already?”

“It’s nearly three AM, baby.” 

Baby. Baby. Weak sparks flare to life in your chest at the utterance of the pet name, and you smile into his skin, rubbing your mouth along the protruding bone—a crude imitation of a kiss. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Touya—you’re beginning to realize, slowly but surely, that no part of you ever goes unnoticed by Touya; the nervous tremble in your voice always caught by his keen ears, the timid winces and yearning, bashful stares always catalogued by his inquisitive eyes. 

You’re not quite sure it matters either way. Maybe big brothers are supposed to catch this kind of stuff; maybe it’s their duty to know all of their little sister’s mannerisms.

So you know he doesn’t miss the way your fingers curl against his shoulders, nails scraping linen, after he’s laid you across your mattress, still in your Halloween costume, and is beginning to pull away.

“Don’t go.”

The desperation in your voice is palpable, and in any other circumstance you’d be writhing with horrified humiliation, but your brain is too tired to process the weight of your words, floating in the purgatory between conscious and unconscious. 

Touya wavers, dreamlike, in your sleep-tinged vision, a gentle noise of disgruntlement sounding at the back of your throat. 

“Hm?” 

“Don’t want you to go,” you manage to mumble out through a pout.

“Oh?” 

Your bedroom is dark, the waning moon bathing it in a soft silver glow, sapphire eyes catching in the beams as they search your face, slow and purposeful, almost as if he doesn’t believe you. 

“Is that so?”  

“T’is,” your arms tighten around his neck, weakly tugging him toward you. “Stay.” 

He goes willingly, his elbows digging into the plush of your mattress on either side of your shoulders, his body half-blanketing yours. 

“I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

His breath is hot against your face, his voice low and smooth as it rumbles against your heart. 

Perhaps not, but you want it anyway. 

“Please?” 

Something sharp glints in his eye as his gaze sweeps your features again, a predatory smirk smeared across his lips. His thumb ghosts over the apple of your cheek, a promise written in the action, and a responding shiver skitters up your spine. 

“Maybe next time.” 

[seneon]

( IN THE ) GARDEN OF SINNERS .𖥔 ݁

SYNOPSIS . . . in which, a man with the lust for murder comes across a woman with no choice but to murder. there, they will drown in the garden of sinners together.

featuring. assassin¡touya todoroki × fem mage¡reader.

ᝰ CONTENTS . . . historical fantasy romance genre. set in ancient japan¡ au ( 1500s ) includes bloodspill, weapons, violence, sorcery, romance, and religious themes.

ᝰ NOTES . . . this mini series is heavily inspired by kara no kyoukai and alchemy of souls. i love knk so much it has a special place in my heart. listen the official knk playlist while reading for better experiences. happy reading, senation!

O1. SOMETHING AND NOTHING.

血 waters of the garden lake were soaked with the colour of wine red. spells and energies then comes undone at the feeling of the blood in the water.

O2. MAGICIAN.

血 the blade tainted with the blood of the dead is an achievement yet it portrays just how many souls had been a subject to murderous lust. can magic cleanse the stains?

O3. QUIET ROMANCE.

血 peace is such a foreign word. yet here they are, having such peace that fate did not grant them up until now. may they revel in each other's ecstasy of solace.

O4. SNOW IS FALLING.

血 first few kisses of the snowflakes is nothing but a mere frozen cry of the cold sorrowful weather. it remains to be stained by the blades and energies a deep hue of wine.

O5. EVERYTHING, NOT NOTHING..

血 the insatiable lust to murder is not present nor does it coexist with other living beings. it's simply nowhere to be found. oh the garden of sinners have consumed their sins.

THE GARDEN OF SINNERS PLAYLIST

MAGE AND ASSASSIN MOODBOARD

ᝰ TAGS . . . @w1nterelle @hyoismbbg @angeliicheartt @kyoghurts @heartkaji @skiiyoomin @choccorin @phtmmsqrde @harleys1nhawaii @va-3

©SENEON 2024 .𖥔 ݁ ( IN THE ) GARDEN OF SINNERS. do not ever repost, alter, and translate my work in any way.

[airanke]

This super tiny sprite turned out so nice!!! The saddest thing is that if you are primarily a mobile Tumblr user, you won't really ever see it on the blog itself - but I love it!!!