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imaginationmess · 3 days ago

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"a knife? are you flirting with me?" || dabi x gn!reader, mha drabbles, pure fluff, 451 words (◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

obsessed!dabi who genuinely believes he fell in love with you at first sight—or maybe more like first fight—given the way his heart jolted in his chest. there was no other explanation. he had never been so speechless as when you first confronted him, intense glare on your face and fists moving with nothing but pure hatred. he easily dodged the first few attacks, looking at you with pure boredom — until you managed to land a hit. lucky shot, right? wrong.

obsessed!dabi who was on the floor before he knew it, pinned down with your thighs over his legs, forcibly straddling him while holding a sharp dagger to his neck. you're slightly heaving, out of breath from your relentless moves, but your fierce gaze doesn't lessen, continuing to look at him with malicious spite, it was something he's never experienced before and oh... how he loved it.

obsessed!dabi who instead of burning you into smithereens, bursts out into dark laughter, unable to believe that a little thing like you — actually got the best of him. he smirks, leaning closer to the metal, causing a few drops of blood to trickle down his neck, leaving you in complete shock, brows furrowed as you hesitantly pull back, all while he smugly smiles like just he won the damn lottery — and maybe he did.

obsessed!dabi who has pestered you ever since that night, trying to get under your skin with every remark and empty insult, following you around the PLF base like clockwork. you curse at him, try to scare him off, spout harsh words, but that only seems to motivate him even further. and after a while, he starts getting coy, giving you shameless once overs and teasing whistles whenever you flip him off, you can only fight against it for so long... until he makes a particularly stupid joke.

obsessed!dabi who feels his ego skyrocket when you let out a small laugh, rolling your eyes at yet another flirty comment that exits his lips. he sees the way you don't tense at his presence anymore; the way you stare at him for longer than necessary, the way you don't pull away when his hand brushes against your waist — and he revels in it.

obsessed!dabi who loves it when you boss him around—on missions or not—your voice is firm and unwavering, looking at him as if daring him to object, which he never did, because you are by far the most attractive thing he's ever seen. he's stronger, no doubt about it, but you don't seem to care, and neither does he, after all, he may not be a slave to hero society.... but he is to you.

➤ navigation || @leleyro @skylermiller1 @aikojwhpa (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

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imaginationmess · 3 days ago

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thinking about touya in therapy making it into uni and doing fine arts. like, i imagine him as a pottery student, his scarred hands forming smooth clay into the most breathtaking, perhaps even abstract ceramics.

not paint your pain, but pot your pain.

maybe you're a fellow student who happened to notice his incredible work. you took pottery as an elective, and it's become your favourite subject because you get to stare at the white-haired loser working on a new masterpiece.

during class, you always sit at the wheel next to him. when you struggle with working the clay into something half decent, he chuckles at you and teases you for how shit you are at pottery. but then he's eating his words as he stalks over, practically shoves you off the stool and takes over.

when he's finished, a plain ol' pot sits on the wheel, waiting for your flare.

i imagine you two swapping numbers under the guise of sending notes or something, which quickly turns into rapid-fire insults and pleas for him to help you with your assignment.

on weekends, he'll stride into the studio and shrug off his overcoat on top of your bag.

rolling up his sleeves, he'll smirk, "looks shit. just like you, l/n."

you roll your eyes and sass back, "whatever, todoroki. just get over here n' help me, will you?" and he does.

pulling up another stool, he guides you through forming something gradable on the wheel. after making sure it's not going to go to ruin the second he looks away, he starts working on his pot alongside you.

you catch glimpses of it here and there, but he tells you to fuck off because of collusion or whatever.

your voice drips with sarcasm as you remark, "how studious of you, 'roki."

"fuck up," he mumbles, those thin brows knitted together in concentration.

sure, he's a bit rough around the edges. but you've come to really like him. as a friend, of course.

unbeknownst to you, as the weeks progress, touya's therapy sessions transform into a yap fest about you. his psychologist suggests that touya invite you to hang out. obviously, he thinks that's a stupid fucking idea and brushes it off.

but as he's lying in his futon, phone in hand and space bar flickering, he keeps thinking it over. he types the suggestion several ways:

let's hang out some time fuckface

you doing anything this saturday? since you don't have any friends, probably not, huh?

do you wanna hang out with me?

finally, he sends:

busy this saturday?

your text bubble appears. and then it disappears. and then it returns. then disappears.

yes or no woman?

two minutes pass of those three dots popping up then fading until you finally reply:

yes

your 'hangout' consists of touya taking you to an art gallery for 'inspiration'.

"i thought we were hanging out, not doing school work," you pout. he stops in front of a piece of trash in a perspex glass box.

"your pot still looks like ass. is this how you thank me?" he grumbles.

you defend your poor baby, "my pot does not look like ass!"

"whatever makes you feel better, shithead," he shrugs.

"you—ugh!" you groan, stopping next to him. the exhibition is about the beauty of consumerism, and while you're all for sustainability, looking at trash wasn't your idea of an enthralling date hangout. you could literally go outside and admire trash; you didn't need to do that in a gallery.

as you two walk into another crowded showroom, touya grabs your hand unexpectedly. you flinch on instinct and gaze up at him, confused.

"you might get lost," he smirks, avoiding your eyes relentlessly.

you scoff, "i'm not a dog, todoroki."

"now that's an idea," he chuckles. "miss l/n on a leash. like you'd need it. you already follow me everywhere like a lovesick puppy."

"just say you hate me already," you huff as he drags you over to a war painting.

"and what the fuck is with this art? why's it all so sad?" you mutter, curling your fingers around the back of his hand.

"if you wanna look at reconnaissance paintings, they're across the hall," he mumbles. you notice the gradual reddening of his cheeks, and his grip on your hand tightens as you almost collide with some tourists.

"watch out," he grits his teeth, pulling you close to him. his sudden display of strength has you stumbling into his chest, shell-shocked soldiers staring blankly at you both from the wall.

"thanks," you say quietly, fearing the heat rising to your face. you can smell the clay on him, and something else. smoke?

he releases your hand and turns to face the painting. it's quiet between you two for a few minutes, his scent lingering in your nose. you've smelled these smoky notes before when he's helped you with your pot. but never before has it been so strong.

you break the silence with, "you should really ditch that cologne. makes you smell like a chain smoker." his eyes bulge out of his sockets and his head snap down to you.

"what?" you chuckle. touya casts a nervous glance around the room before gazing at you again.

"i've been stressed, alright? don't tell my therapist," he mutters. your mouth curves into an 'o' shape as you blink up at him. his words ricochet off the walls of your mind.

at last, you shake your head and agree, "i won't."

by the end of your meetup, you are feeling no more inspired than you did at the start. if anything, you're feeling a bit disheartened. you had no idea that 1) touya is in therapy and 2) he smokes. you should have seen it coming with the frequent coughing and stiffening up whenever his family is mentioned.

from that point onward, nothing is the same for the rest of the term. every time you see him, you can't help but feel a little sad, like you've been let in on some secret you weren't supposed to know. you two still joke and rile each other up, but you steer clear of mentioning the cigarettes poking out his coat pockets, or that distant look in his eyes when you compliment him on his work.

when your grades are released, you text him:

let me guess, full marks?

nothing. like, not even a peep for the next few hours, which is completely unlike him. you try to convince yourself he's just busy, but you worry about him.

as you're making dinner, your phone rings. sighing, you turn off the stove and saunter over to the couch to grab it. must be mum or something. 'pottery prodigy' stares back at you. you click the green answer button without hesitation.

"todoroki?" you call into the microphone. static-silence, and then a sniffle.

"hey." his voice is wobbly, like he's crying.

"heyyy," you say softly. "everything okay? why did you call me?" he sniffles, loud and unapologetically in your ear.

"yeah. just, um... fuck, nothing," he responds shakily. you can hear him berating himself internally.

you ask, "did you grades go okay?" heading back to the kitchen, you grab the turner and flip your veggies. more static-silence.

"you don't have to tell me if—"

"am i..." good enough. "interrupting you?" he murmurs, voice dampened with sorrow.

you insist, "no. no, not at all. i'm just making dinner."

"what're you having?" he asks while choking back a traitorous sob. dogs bark in the background; he must be outdoors, you think.

"veggies n soba. but i think they got cold," you respond, switching your phone to the other ear as you shake the strainer.

"soba?"

"yeah." the wind whirs on the other end of the line, interjected by his sniffles.

"are you in the neighbourhood? you can come over, if you want," you offer. what the fuck are you doing? you ask yourself. of course, he doesn't want to come over! he's probably calling you because he ran out of cigs and needs a distraction!

his voice is small as he confirms, "really?"

"yeah, course. i'll make some extra food now, okay?" you say while pouring your cold noodles into a bowl.

"you've got my location, right?" he's been walking to your house this entire time, staring at that little dot on his screen. you two shared location earlier this month for 'assignment collaboration' purposes. if he was late, you could check the tracking app and see if he was stuck in traffic or vice versa.

and touya wishes he could say that the only times he's checked your location were precisely for that. but more often than not, he looks at the little dot that represents you. it's to make sure you're safe, he reasons. another piece of information kept from his psychologist.

"yeah." he hangs up and does a loop around your block so he doesn't show up too early.

when he eventually knocks on your door, you let him in with an understanding smile. his nose tip is all red, and his eyes are slightly puffy as he slips his shoes off.

you two don't even make it to the kitchen before he's breaking down in your arms, sobbing something about not being worthy.

you rub his back and hold him tightly as he cries, his face buried in your neck. your fingers run through his pale locks. they're slightly greasy, and your mind entertains the thought of you washing his hair in the shower. you shake your head a little, and promptly apologise for disturbing touya's resting spot.

he doesn't say a word as he calms down, or when you bring your cold dinner into the lounge room and eat it together on the couch.

the only words that leave his lips are a muttered, "thanks," when you force him into the bathroom and hand him a toothbrush.

you let out a long sigh as you flop down on your bed and climb under the blankets. you're about to doze off when your bedroom door opens and in slips a half-dressed touya.

he walks lightly over to your bed and slips beneath the covers.

he doesn't touch you, just complains, "your couch is gonna give me scoliosis." you giggle softly with your eyes still closed.

"think that's funny, fuckface?"

"reeeeeaaaal funny, touya," you grin. but oh, you called him by his first name. you've never called him by his first name before.

you try to correct yourself, "todor—"

"shut it, dipshit. just go to sleep," he cuts you off and rolls around in your blankets, probably ruining your plushie array at the end of your bed.

you tease him, "are you a fucking worm or something? stop wriggling around—touya!"

he wraps his lean arms around you and slides you back into his body, making you squeal, "the fuck are you doing?" his nose nuzzles your shoulder and he breathes in deeply.

"getting comfortable."

"well, you can get off, you little shit," you grumble. your attempts to shake him off end up with his arms clamped around you like a vice. and soon enough, you find yourself relaxing into his body heat and dozing off.

such becomes a routine when things get bad at home for touya. but instead of showing up at your house like some booty call, you two make it official over a beautiful, hand-crafted vase he gifts you for passing the course.

masterlist

inspired by my valentine’s day with the boys post from earlier this year

star girl's final words: haha so it's been a while. hi. erm, i got carried away as you can see here. hope i have done our pookie bear justice!

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imaginationmess · 3 days ago

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"he's all yours, ma'am."

getting a call from your local police station telling you to come pick up your boyfriend from jail is not how you wanted to spend your friday evening. but here you are, standing at the foot of his cell with an expression so petrifying that even the officer standing beside you has to take a step back and avoid your gaze.

touya watches him unlock the cell with a grimace. the second the cell door slides open, you take a step forward—and touya does the most reasonable thing he can think of in regard to his safety and slams the gate closed, effectively locking himself back up again.

there's a moment of silence before you let out a gasp of absolute disbelief.

"touya, i swear to—"

"sir, i don't feel safe with her here. can't you, well, i dunno—make her stand a couple of fucking feet away from the door so i can step out without getting my face bashed into the nearest wall?"

the officer takes a long look at touya, who has the audacity to clasp his hands together in a plea, while you turn towards the officer with a raised brow.

"...you have her listed as your emergency contact. you'll be fine."

touya seems offended by the officer's words, but he doesn't argue any further as the man fumbles with his keys before unlocking the cell once again. touya steps out tentatively, shoulders slumping and a pout tugging his lips downwards (a half-assed attempt to look innocent, really) and you try not to let your eye twitch.

"officer, could you tell me just what he did again? i've seem to have forgotten what you told me." you state dryly, watching touya squirm under your gaze as he strains his wrists against the cuffs wrapped around them.

"uh—he was caught vandalizing a gas station. you know that one mr. takami a couple streets over runs? then he, uh, sort of beat him up."

"oh, come on—"

"shut. up. officer, please take us to the front desk so i can fill out the necessary papers and take him home."

the entire ordeal took only a little under an hour. and before touya knew it, he was back to being his usual passenger princess self beside you, though he had to keep one arm braced against the door and the other gripping the middle console for his own safety.

"babe, you are driving way too fast."

big mistake. if touya knew better, he would've held his breath all the way home instead.

"do you know how worried i was? did you know i was in the shower when they called? you're paying the hospital bill coming in the mail one of these days for when you finally send me into cardiac arrest with all the shit you pull, touya!" you snap, and since you were at a red light, you remove your hand from the steering wheel and give touya's ear a good harsh tug, just for good measure.

"okay, i get it—ow that fucking hurts! let go of my ea—i mean, sorry," he wheezes dramatically, and you finally let go of your grip on him with a huff when the light turns green.

"you're lucky they let you off so easy. seriously. i think you deserve at least—wait, are you not wearing your fucking seatbelt?" you snap, looking back and forth between touya and the road like this entire day was the most irritating inconvenience of your life, and touya can only scramble to put it on while mumbling a string of apologies under his breath. he peers up at you wearily, and you turn away from him and back towards the road with a grumble and tensed-up shoulders.

you're in a really bad mood today.

touya wants to tell you that he's sorry and that he knows he's wrong, but he's afraid that if he looks at you a certain way or says the wrong thing, you might just use your bare teeth to bite his head clean off.

so, he settles into his seat quietly and allows you the peaceful ride back home you deserve. now that he thinks about it, you've been under quite a bit of stress lately. it takes touya half a second to realize he must have made it worse, and it takes him another second more to remember that today was your only day off of the week—and he sinks back into his seat with a frown.

touya throws a careful glance at you through his peripheral vision, taking note of the tired look in your eyes.

you were worried about him when he got arrested. picking him up from the police station when he knows no one else would. fussing over him not putting on his seatbelt and being safe. and that is when touya is reminded why the only number in his emergency contact is yours.

it's because you love him, dearly and with all your heart, even when he acts like an exasperating little shit (e.g., the stunt he pulled today).

carefully, as if he's getting ready to pet an angry cat that loves to scratch, touya takes his hand and drapes it over your thigh, rubbing gentle circles as he presses his fingers into the fabric of your jeans. you don't push him off you, merely sighing through your nose and keeping your eyes on the road, and touya takes that as a sign that you're not too mad at him.

"when we get home, i'll run a nice bath for you to relax in. we can order takeout, and i'll massage your legs real good, you know, just the way you like after a long day." he says softly, and his touch is tender enough that you can't help but melt underneath it.

touya made staying mad at him really hard.

"fine."

"we can watch a movie too, your choice—you won't hear a single complaint from me. i'll even tell kei i'm sorry, even though that jackass was lookin' at me funny and started the whole—whatever. just know that i'm sorry, doll. i mean it."

touya doesn't tell you how he's only sorry for causing you stress, not sorry for rightfully knocking keigo down a size. but you finally do glance at him—and your face has softened into the very smallest of smiles. that sight alone is enough to warm touya's body entirely with love.

"alright then."

touya keeps his word, just like he always has. he carries you into the apartment bridal style just to hear you laugh again, he lights a candle for your bath and massages your shoulders and temple as you bathe, and he doesn't even bat an eye when you flick through your tv shows and select pucca. no, he settles into your side and passes you his favorite blanket instead.

touya makes mistakes often—all the time, actually. it was his specialty, but he liked to blame his miscalculations on bad luck or the universe working against him. but, then again, it didn't make sense for the universe to be working against him if he had you—a gift to breathe life back into him, the light of his life, divine intervention, if you will.

he'll work on himself to be better for you, and you'll recognize his efforts and dote on him accordingly. you make touya somewhat civilized and human, and for that, he is forever grateful.

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imaginationmess · 6 days ago

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A Second Chance at Life (Touya Todoroki X Fem!Reader) Chapter 12

Summary: For the past five years, you’ve been raising your son as a single mother. You’ve successfully avoided questions about his father by claiming that he died during the Paranormal Liberation War. From what you believe, this isn’t a lie. The last time you saw him was when he personally escorted you to U.A.’s shelter amidst the chaos in the streets.

Unbeknownst to you, he has been alive all this time, clinging to life in a facility working to keep him alive. His father, Enji, has been desperately searching for someone willing to heal him. After his presumed death, a single photo of you and Dabi began circulating through the underground, hinting at the nature of your relationship. To protect yourself and your child, you had to pay someone to stop the pictures from spreading further.

The photo provided answers to a long-standing question: who was the healer Dabi had been protecting? It identified you as the healer who had been deemed untouchable, but it also brought unwanted attention.

A/N: Sorry for any grammar or spelling errors in advance.

Word Count: 1.9K+ Masterlist of ASCAF Previously Chapter Eleven

“Your father can still make decisions on your behalf, since you're under his legal responsibility. That extends to trying to gain custody of Seishiro, your clone,” Reika says. Then she adds, “However, as the boy’s biological father, even through unethical means…You still have a say. Your word carries more weight than Endeavor’s in this.” ________________________________ Touya stared out the window at the old soba shop nestled in the countryside. His leg bounced with nervous energy as he waited for the other vehicle to arrive. He was still surprised the court allowed him to leave the rehabilitation center, but the boy, Seishiro, had requested the meeting take place in public. Here, of all places.

The soba shop was nearly untouched by time. It was the same one he and you had visited in your teenage years, the same one near the mountain trails where you'd trained together. The locals used to recognize both of you instantly. In the winter seasons, the old folks would often ask him to help light their fireplaces. You had always nudged him to help, teasing him into it. “Touya, relax,” Reika said, prompting him to glance at her. He stopped bouncing his leg and turned back to the window.

“Just be yourself,” she added. “I’ll be supervising to make sure nothing gets heated.” Touya glances over to her again before Reika sighs. "“You can’t do worse than Endeavor. Honestly, the bar’s in hell. You’ll clear it by breathing.” He muttered under his breath, "I’m bad at talking to kids."

"Then think of him as your younger self. What would you say to him?"

Before Touya could answer, the distant sound of a car door slamming shut made him look up. A government agent stepped out first, followed by a white-haired boy clutching a small plastic bag. That must be Seishiro.

"Touya."

He looked at Reika. She offered a small, reassuring smile. "I believe the two of you will get along. You’ll look back on this and laugh about stressing over nothing. Seishiro isn't hard to talk to, just give him a reason to open up." ___________________________________________________

To Touya’s surprise, the interior of the restaurant hadn’t changed. The same faded awards and framed pictures of regulars lined the walls. His eyes drifted to a familiar empty space—where a photo of you and him had once hung. The outline was still visible on the wall, a ghost of the past.

“Would you like the usual, Seishiro?” the older server asked.

Seishiro nodded, then moved toward the table while Touya noticed the woman from earlier. The boy's escort seated four tables away.

“It’s arranged to give you enough space to talk, but still within range of my quirk,” Reika called out gently. “Good luck.”

Touya shot her a look like she’d lost her damn mind. Leaving a convicted criminal alone with a kid, even if that kid was his, still felt crazy. The server turned to him.

"What would you like, sir?"

The man’s expression was polite, professional but Touya could tell he recognized him. Still, the server kept up the facade.

"Surprise me." With that, the older man left them alone, making an awkward silence between them. Seishiro was the one who broke the silence first before making eye contact with him. As much the boy was trying to act bored, but his eyes said something else. He was curious about him. "My mom called in advance and asked them to take down the picture of you two," Seishiro said, breaking the silence between them.

Touya nodded. That explained the blank spot. "I am Seishiro." He held out his hand to him which surprised Touya. "Touya."

It was Awkward handshake but Seishiro couldn't help but chuckle at how stiff Touya is.

“You’re really bad at socializing. No wonder Mom pushes me to talk more.” Seishiro grinned, clearly amused. Touya scoffs dryly. "Do you have friends?”

Seishiro blinked at him. “Yeah. A few. Not a ton, but… enough. Why?”

Touya shrugged, fidgeting with his fingers. "Just wondering. I didn’t. When I was your age, it was just me. Trying to prove something. Friends weren’t really a priority."

"None?" Seishiro asked, genuinely surprised.

"None," Touya confirmed.

Seishiro looked thoughtful. "Well, I’ve got a mom who doesn’t let me sulk too long. She makes me choose after-school stuff or a sports team. Says it’s good for me. Socializing and trying new things."

He leaned back. "I get it now. It was annoying at first, but some of those sports are actually fun."

"What kind of sports?" Touya asked.

"Swimming, soccer, and track. Sometimes I sub in for the baseball team. Those three challenge me the most. There's always someone better, and I like that…It pushes me." Seishiro says but was fidgeting with his fingers.

Touya studied him for a second. There was no bitterness in Seishiro’s voice. No resentment. Just… motivation. That was new.

"If you’re in all that, do you still train your quirk?"

"Yeah. The sports are seasonal. I used to train twice a week. Now I do three or four. My quirk’s getting stronger, and I don’t want accidents. I get mandatory breaks when I push too far, though."

He paused, then added, "Mom trains with me sometimes. And Grandma Reika gives me combat lessons every couple of weeks. Self-defense, offense."

He stopped abruptly when he realized he was rambling off the rails. "Sor—"

"Don’t apologize," Touya interrupted. "You’re just rambling. That’s something you got from your mom. Total chatterbox."

Seishiro's lips curled into a smile, then his expression softened. "You’re not what I expected."

Touya raised an eyebrow. "What’d you expect?"

"I dunno… louder? Meaner? A complete asshole."

Touya snorted. "I am an asshole. I’m just choosing not to be one right now. Don’t get used to it, brat."

Seishiro laughed, a quiet one that actually made Touya smile for real.

Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he thought. As the hours went by across the room, the two women were watching the two interacting without care. The two were getting along, talking and laughing as if they were just complete strangers hours ago. The government official was taking notes and staring at them while Reika watched with a soft smile at the scene in front of her. Seishiro seems like he is enjoying his company and rambling off god knows what, but Touya may seem uninterested. It seems like he was actually listening to Seishiro, seeing he speaks once in a while.

It was a little unsettling how both turned toward her at the same time, as if sensing the stares. The government official quickly looked away. Clearly spooked while the two broke into laughter like a pair of mischievous foxes. Additional Scene:

Touya waved lazily, one hand buried deep in his sweatpant pocket while his wrist balanced the small gift bag from Seishiro. The boy grinned brightly in return and stepped into the car with the government official.

"See? It wasn’t so bad," Reika said, coming to stand beside him as the vehicle began to pull away.

"The kid did most of the talking, though," Touya muttered, glancing over at her.

"Maybe," Reika shrugged, fishing her keys out of her purse. "But it’s rare to see him open up that fast to a stranger. Consider that a win."

Touya didn’t respond. His eyes dropped to the gift bag still crinkled in his grasp.

“Here. You weren’t an asshole, so you got a present.” Seishiro had said it with a teasing grin, pushing the bag across the table with all the dramatic flair of someone giving away treasure.

Touya scoffed quietly at the memory, that stupid grin still vivid in his mind, before climbing into the passenger seat.

"Reika."

She hummed in acknowledgment, focusing on starting the car.

"He’s a good kid."

His voice was quieter this time, as he turned to the window, catching his reflection in the glass.

A face he still wasn’t used to seeing like this… alive, and no scars…

But Touya knew himself well enough to recognize what he saw in Seishiro. Not just the white hair and sharp stare. It was the mirror of who he could’ve been under different circumstances.

Seishiro was growing up with a solid support system. Friends. Encouragement. Stability. Touya hadn't had that, not even close.

He was raised in a home thick with silence and domestic violence, where no one noticed the boy crumbling in front of everyone else. Not even after that doctor’s appointment. Not even when he’d screamed the loudest.

His father must have lost his damn mind to want to get custody of a child he barely acknowledged according to Seishiro's version of the events that took place.

But you… you gave Seishiro choices. You encouraged him to find hobbies, friends, and passions. You made him want to reach out, rather than force it with a list of orders like his father has done. And maybe that’s what stung.

Touya wouldn’t lie to himself. A part of him was envious. But a bigger part? Grateful.

Because if Seishiro had landed anywhere else, especially in his home. He might’ve ended up exactly like Touya. Angry. Isolated. Desperate.

You were attentive. Observant. You didn’t come from a shattered household. You were raised with love, and you passed it on like instinct. Touya could admit to himself that you were a better influence than he could ever be.

Seishiro wasn’t hard to read. He was blunt, sharp-eyed, but honest. His approval didn’t come easy but it was clear who he did look up to.

You.

Touya had already made up his mind before this meeting. He would give you full custody. He had no business trying to be a father, not when the boy already had someone better in his life.

But it was that look in Seishiro’s eyes when he talked about what Endeavor did.

That same rage Touya saw every time he stared at himself in the mirror for years. Pure, suffocating hatred.

Seishiro had told him, calmly, chillingly that if you hadn’t pulled him back, he would’ve killed Endeavor then and there. Because all he could see was his younger brother walking into the same hell he once did.

Touya didn’t blame him.

Endeavor had belittled you, insulted your parenting, tried to override your choices.

But Seishiro had made it clear: you were the parent who showed up. You were the one who listened.

And the truth was, even now Touya didn’t want to test that anger. That boy had years of combat and quirk training with a hatred simmering just below the surface. One wrong push from Endeavor, and there would be no pulling Seishiro back next time.

He was a good kid, but Touya had seen that look before.

And it wasn’t the look of a boy waiting for love or approval.

It was the look of a loaded gun, held back by a single thread.

All he needs is a reason...

If Seishiro is anything like him, he won’t freeze when someone yells at him like his siblings did.

He’ll fight. He’ll argue.

The only difference?

He has someone in his corner to pull him back.

And that makes all the difference in the world.

Touya looks down at the photograph that was struck between the pages of Spinner's book.

A photo of you, Seishiro, and his son… Renji. All three were smiling like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“…Maybe that’s enough.” __________________________________________

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It feels anticlimactic, but the next chapter will be packed with tension between Endeavor and Touya. I would love to hear your theories or predictions, let me know in the comments <3 How do you think of interaction between Touya and Seishiro? Thank you so much for everyone who has commented on the chapters before and your kind words. Once again, Your comments seriously mean the world to me. 💖 I’m so grateful to know there are people who want to read more. Your comments motivate me to keep working on chapters. Maybe it’s the fact that someone else wants to see this idea come to life. I will become Kirby: absorbing your comments and giving you chapters in return.

Thank you so much again for reading! I love reading your comments. 💖

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imaginationmess · 6 days ago

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