#dabi drawing in the works so hopefully that will be up soon

[touy-touy]

don’t look into their eyes

[myz-wykkyd]

Ren!! My turn to ask because now I'm very curious too - what are your thoughts on My Hero's ending? I'm only indirectly caught up, so I'm wondering what your thoughts are now that you're caught up to its finale ; o ;

Haha bit out of nowhere for my followers because I haven't posted them here yet, but I'm a big mha fan and used do a lot of oc stuff in the fandom! I have complicated feelings about the ending, but the mha bug has still kinda bit me so I may be drawing / posting those ocs soon.

A more in-depth answer below the cut! Beware MHA spoilers!

So overall, on the heroes side, the ending felt a bit rushed and I personally wasn't as satisfied as I was hoping I would be by the ending of it. But I honestly think I could have forgiven it for the most part if certain things were handled a little differently. But that is 100% also my own League of Villain's bias talking. Even outside oc stuff, I'd always found their odd little ragtag sort of "found family" dynamic with one another to be pretty dang endearing.

Of course, I didn't exactly expect "redemption" for them- to many people lost their lives throughout the series for that to ever be a believable possibility. But I do believe their deaths was a weird antithesis to everything the series had been building up to. I wanted Tomura, Himiko, and Dabi to be saved. Especially after the revelation of just how much All For One's influence completely destroyed the life of Tomura. Like, I'm not going to pretend that absolves him of all of his actions, but holy bologna, if it wasn't for that man Tomura's father may never have abused him, he wouldn't have had his quirk stolen and replaced with Decay, his poor family would have never been killed, ect ect. Just does not sit right to be that after all that suffering he fucking died T-T And don't even get me started on Himiko and Dabi LOL

TLDR, it feels bad man! Glad we have fanon so at least that can hopefully one day be fixed in our hearts o/ Rezia if you ever get to finish it / feel like working on bnha stuff again lemme know LOL I wanna talk ocs with you

[doublerainebow]

On A Summer Night

Incubus Hawks x Reader

Partly inspired by the leánnan sídhe/Redcurrant and Joel storyline from Ancient Magus' Bride and a bit of YY’s incubus Hawks audios lol

Been working on this since like... mid-February lolol. Prolly the fic that I’ve spent the most time on lol (not counting multi-chapter fics of course), and so because of that, I’m like, “don’t wanna work on this anymore asdfklhalskjfdh.”

~ Masterlist ~

~ My Hero Academia Masterlist ~

You couldn’t quite remember, but you were absolutely certain that you saw a pair of molten golden eyes peering back at you in your small garden of fruit trees and bird feeders.

The memory was foggy and distant, but you were sure that an ethereally beautiful man with golden eyes, equally golden hair, and wings of scarlet smiled at you. You remember having your breath taken away from you.

After all, how could a man as beautiful as he ever glance in your direction?

Since then, you felt a sort of presence always with you.

A warm embrace, lingering touches, a stroke down your cheek, a brush against your forehead.

You didn’t know what it was, but the small touches were comforting to you in your lonely existence.

Your home, though small and cozy, often felt large and empty before you saw the golden-eyed man, but comfort seemed to have settled in after that fateful meeting.

You were an artist of sorts, and countless times you have tried to capture how this man looked like, but you could never get his features right. In your memory, he was but a blur of gold with sharp, unwavering eyes.

Since that summer night, you would often talk aloud in the quiet of your home if the loneliness became too much. You desperately wanted the presence to know that you knew he was there.

Maybe out of wanting to acknowledge his existence.

Maybe to find companionship in your loneliness.

You would ramble on, not caring in the slightest if what you were saying didn’t make any sense or if you were crazy.

You just wanted to see him again.

Keigo Takami silently floated beside you, curiously watching as you cooked your dinner, nodding and commenting every so often—even if you couldn’t hear him—when you would speak.

The incubus had grown attached to you ever since that night in the garden.

He had only been there to admire the several bird feeders and bird boxes you had in your small garden when you had stepped outside and made eye contact with him.

The way you let out a small gasp, your eyes dilating sightly, and a blush gently riding up your face. He relished your reaction to him.

Amused, the incubus decided to watch you.

What he didn’t expect was to fall in love with you.

You, the quiet little dove who would speak to him about your musings. The quiet little dove who would let out soft sighs every time he would touch you or gasp when he could brush lingering kisses against your forehead and cheeks.

You were so small and innocent in comparison to him, a demon of carnal desire. Just the thought of you alone drove him crazy, but he never once tried to satiate his needs with you.

To him, you were a bring of purity that needed to be protected.

“You’re being haunted, you know?”

Somewhere in the background, Keigo rolled his eyes.

You smiled fondly as you poured your friend, Fumikage, some more tea. “You don’t say. He doesn’t seem to be mean, though.”

Fumikage frowned. “He may not be, but he is of the... unsavory sort...”

You simply munched on your sandwich as you nodded dismissively. “Even if that’s the case, he’s been around for quite a while not, and he hasn’t done anything to me. I can feel that he’s very sweet too... I trust him.”

The young man sighed. “Whatever you say. But, as soon as you feel something off or bad, come to me immediately.”

“That’s very kind of you, Fumi. While I don’t think I’ll need your help with him, I’ll keep your words in mind.”

“... He says his name is Keigo. Keigo Takami.”

You smiled again, gently testing out the name. “Keigo, huh?”

Keigo felt his wings quiver in pleasure upon hearing you utter his name.

It was true that knowing the true name of another meant that you held power over them, but the way you said his name sent the scarlet-winged incubus reeling.

So innocent, the way you sounded out the vowels of his first name, and yet it had such a powerful pull on him.

Keigo had yet to even utter your own name despite having known it for a long while now. He knew the moment he did, you’d be ruined by him forever, and the incubus was intent on keeping you pretty and pure for a while longer.

A few days had passed since your friend visited, but ever since learning the name of the presence, you felt that you could perceive him better.

Every so often, you’d see glimpses of scarlet feathers fluttering around or brilliant, red wings just at your periphery. Even the touches had more weight to them.

You smiled every time you uttered the incubus’s name—Fumikage told you exactly what the presence was. You found that you really liked saying his name, and you were sure he also did as you would feel a gentle brush against your forehead.

Your drawings of him were getting better also, and you were excited to finally capture the memory you saw that summer night.

Keigo silently watched over you as you slept peacefully in your bed. The nights were now getting longer and colder, and long past was the summer night you first saw him.

Despite that, an odd, tender warmth grew in the incubus every time he looked at you. It was a strange thing for him to feel considering the kind of being he was, but it was a most welcome feeling to him.

The red-winged incubus often heard stories of demons such as himself taking on humans as mates or even lovers. It was a very rare situation, and Keigo had initially readily written it off as—ironically enough—a fairy tale. And yet, here he was, in love with a human.

His little dove of a human.

You began to stir a little bit, catching the attention of the incubus. Under your breath, you gently moaned out his name.

Desire flashed through the incubus, impure thoughts filling him as he drew closer to take in the smell of your arousal. His golden eyes gazed hungrily over your form, taking delight in the blush spread prettily across your cheeks and the way your chest heaved up and down with soft moans and pants.

“Soon...” Keigo growled lowly, placing a possessive kiss across your lips, drinking in your moans. “Soon, you’ll be mine.”

The incubus would bide his time until the perfect moment to make you his mate and lover.

Hopefully, if I ever get inspired and get around to it, I’ll write a part 2 with ✨smut✨

Is pointedly ignoring the Dabi x Religious Reader fic that was supposed to have a part 2 with smut asjkdfhaljkdshf

Edit: I wrote the sequel! "In The Cold Winter"

[illyaana]

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Soulmate! au, Mafia! au, Pro Hero! Shoto x quirkless mafia leader! reader, No Specific Gender for Reader, Cursing, Violence

Synopsis: You are a leader of a mafia that had ties with the League of Villains. You declined a transaction with them and planned to leave the scene. Suddenly, heroes surrounded the area and you were captured. Aizawa, Shinsou and Todoroki interrogated you. In the midst of the interrogation, Shoto finds out that you are his soulmate.

How to identify a soulmate: You can communicate with your soulmate by drawing or writing something on your body.

Thanks to @horseanon--simpforall for having this collab! I usually don't do the whole soulmate trope, but it always was nice to read and it was fun to write! Hope you enjoy this compilation of your first times with Shoto! Yes, I love Shoto very much, thank you. Kettle boy is the best boy. ヾ(•ω•`)oヾ(•ω•`)oヾ(•ω•`)o

Warning: This fanfic does mention some graphic things (abuse, suicide, death, etc.) so if you aren't comfortable with it, please don't force yourself.

Blood, blood, blood.

That was your nights. Killing off rogue members, bagging their bodies and collecting their quirks for the mafia you are currently leading.

Yes, you heard that right; stealing their quirks.

Thanks to the technological developments the 'company' you owned, Ahnia Technologies, have made throughout the years, you have managed to steal quirks without having a quirk itself.

All thanks to a small gun that fits in your pocket.

The illegal business of stealing and giving quirks to others since the fall of All for One is completely dominated by your mafia now.

And it all happened under a company that 'promised' the betterment of Japan and the world.

To be fair, you did invent some stuff for the safety of the country, but they worked better in collecting data on people, be it heroes, villains or viligantes.

"Persephone, you need to leave now. Shigaraki is waiting for you," said Toga, fiddling with the knife in her hand.

Ah yes, your villain name; Persephone - The bringer of death.

Your name was known throughout the streets of Musutafu, yet no one really knew how you looked like, thanks to the power of makeup. You never covered the scars you've received throughout the years of villainy. The scars you bore are the scars you wear with pride, along with your Haladie sword and your retractable iron hand claws.

That's all they knew. That was Persephone.

After all, who would think the CEO of Ahnia Technologies would be the leader of Diavolos; the strongest mafia in Japan?

No one knew the sweetheart of the science industry, L/N Y/N, was Persephone, and no one will. Those who knew are long gone - be it by God's hands or yours.

You got up from your seat at the bar, thanking Kurogiri for the Whiskey on the rocks.

Walking towards the inner room, you spotted Dabi leaning against the wall, toying with the staples on his face. Beside him stood Hawks, eyes gawking at you, taking mental notes. In the middle of the room sat Shigaraki Tomura. The sky blue-haired man with scars all over his neck paid close attention to your Haladie sword, blood dripping off of each end.

"Killing spree?" He question, a smug tone ringing off of him.

You turned to him, a smile graced your face. "As always."

He got off his chair and walked towards you, raising his gloved hand to you. You snickered when you saw your company's name written on the wristband. So they do have some money.

"Pleasure to meet you again," he said, slowly taking off the prosthetic hand on his face. You took the gloved hand in yours, shaking it slowly.

"I'll just get straight into it; we need some quirks for these Nomus." Soon came gigantic Nomus, their hands swinging as they bumped into places. The ground shook as they slowly walked in. Their purple skin filled with little holes thanks to all the testing the League of Villains did on them.

"Aren't they strong enough?" you questioned, "Besides, I don't believe they have the mental capacity to use quirks that require the orders from the quirk user itself-"

You were cut off by Shigaraki's ungloved hand touching your iron hand claws. "I just asked for quirks, not your opinion." He said, his red eyes staring dead into yours.

You extended your iron claws, every single one going through Shigaraki's hand. Your empty hand withdrew your Haladie sword and aimed it straight at his throat. You began to smirk, looking at his scared expression.

"If you wanted to fuck up the very thing you spent hours on developing on, be my guest. However, don't drag my fucking business with it," You said, venom dripping off your words.

While you stared at your sword, you spotted a small heart engraved on your wrist.

Your soulmate wanted to cheer you up.

You remembered how badly you wanted to meet your soulmate when you were younger. Your parents smiled as you showed the small things your soulmate did. A little drawing of a smile on your wrist, them drawing a flower...

Then you were brought into the family business.

The happy-go-lucky girl you were back then vanished almost instantly.

The training, the killing sprees, the interrogations - it all erased your humanity.

Yet, the need to meet your soulmate always stayed.

Somehow, they always knew when you were having a bad day and knew just how to make it better.

You were already 24. The usual age you meet your soulmate was 18. You wanted to give up so many times, but the small things they did stopped you every time.

You awoke from your daze the instant you felt a temperature change.

You removed the sword from Shigaraki's throat and retraced the iron blades.

"We're never having business transactions ever again, Shigaraki. Not after this buffoonery of a display you've done today. Consider this a warning; mess with me and you'll be in a casket the next day." You said, leaving the room.

But it was too late.

All the Pro Heroes surrounded the area around the bar. An ice wall was built around both Kurogiri and Toga along with Eraserhead cancelling both their quirks.

On instinct, you ejected one of your blades to hit Aizawa on the cheek, forcing him to drop his stare on Kurogiri and Toga. They never did anything bad to you, they were good people.

"Go, don't worry about me!" You screamed at Kurogiri, knowing he'd try to take you with the rest of the League to safety. He needed to protect them, I can protect myself.

He nodded and proceeded to warp to the smaller room, take the rest of the League members and warp away.

You felt the heroes run towards you. You smirked, knowing that you could easily take them down.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp feather around your neck, slowly digging into your skin.

"You aren't escaping, baby bird," Hawks whispered as he removed your gear, leaving you powerless. You soon felt a needle being pushed into your arm, darkness slowly engulfing you.

You woke up in an interrogation room. Your hands were chained to the table in front of you. The mismatched arrangement of the bricks that had chipped through the years reminding you of your years under your father.

That sick man ruined you.

That sick man ruined your family.

That sick man made you the revolting thing you are now; a fucking villain who killed more lives than a bomb.

You began laughing to yourself. You became this to stay away from the dark room he used to shut you in, yet here you are; in another fucking dark room but with chains now!

What the fuck is my life!?

I- I am just so fucked up, aren't I?

At least I killed that son of a bitch.

At least I burned that fucking house.

At least my mom died before she could see me become this - his masterpiece.

You soon began to write on your arm, hoping your soulmate was awake. "Hey, you awake?"

You soon felt a warm sensation on your arm. "Yeah. You good?"

You chuckled. At least they care. "Nope. I fucked up this time, and pretty badly," you began writing on your upper arm, letting the words earlier slowly fade.

"Well, if you want to vent, you know where to write," they replied with a small smiley-face at the end.

"How was yours?" you asked, directing the conversation to something more positive, hopefully.

"It went great! I finally managed to catch something I really wanted to catch for a long time!" they replied, their writing slowly moving diagonally. At least they had a good day.

Your happy trail of thoughts was interrupted when Brainwasher, Eraserhead and Shoto entered the room. The smile you had turned into a scowl when you saw them, especially Brainwasher.

"Wow Aizawa, is today bring your kid to work day?" you said, teasing the Pro Hero. You knew that Shinsou was the worst person to deal with in an interrogation setting. He could easily control you the minute you respond to him.

'Let's just talk to Aizawa and Todoroki then. If I don't respond to Shinsou, I'll be just fine. Oooh - better yet, just keep quiet,' you thought to yourself as the three heroes proceeded to sit down. 'Messing with them would just make my day better, anyway.'

"Mind telling us who you are, Persephone?" Shoto began, trying to be polite.

"So I am Hades' wife. I am the Goddess of Spring, daughter of Demeter. I am also considered the Harbinger of Death," you said, leaving them annoyed. "I guess you all don't like Greek Mythology!" you said, smiling.

They tried to get you to talk, but every single time they pried, you just kept on laughing, slowly pushing their limits. Shinsou tried getting you to talk to him, but you just stared at Shoto and Aizawa, laughing louder and louder.

"I swear to God, what's the fuck is wrong with you?!" Eraserhead screamed, hitting the metal table.

You were waiting for this question. With a smile, you replied, "Everything."

Aizawa saw something in you with that answer; the unresolved anger you had towards someone. He knew if he hit just the right nerve, you'd spill everything.

"Why? Did Daddy fuck you up?" He said, a smug tone lacing his words. You saw Shinsou and Todoroki turn to face Aizawa with a bewildered expression.

You, however, just stared at him blankly. "How did you know?"

You felt numb. This man just sat beside you for a few minutes, yet he already knew how badly you were fucked up by that fucktard.

"Yes, Daddy fucked me up. He made me kill people at the age of 5. He didn't let me go to school because he wanted me to only kill for him, nothing else. I may be quirkless, but he knew that I would do just the same - actually more - damage a person with a lousy-ass quirk would."

Their eyes widened when you revealed that you were quirkless.

"What? Shocked that a regular person could kill over 20 Pro Heroes with just a bunch of blades?" You said, feeling a smirk slowly forming your face. "It was fun killing that All Might guy. You could say it was payback. After all, that son of a bitch couldn't protect me when he was living so close to me."

You began to laugh more as you saw they began to form tears.

"Oh, that isn't the worse part. The worse part of it all was the torture I went through. Have you ever imagined your 10-year old self hanging on the wall via chains, chains like these," you shook the handcuffs, "All because you couldn't kill a rabbit. Oh yeah, It was a package deal; chains plus 50 whips! " you ended, lifting up your shirt slightly to show the scars you received from it.

"Luckily my mom died before she could see me become like this. She was an angel. When she was around, Dad was actually a nice guy. The mafia was more of a family. We took care of everyone, finances and all." You stood up from your seat and sat on the table examining their faces.

"And now, I have to kill the people who try to run away, all because the elders force me to." You ended, crying.

These thoughts were a river you kept at bay.

You never wanted anyone besides the elders to know.

You were the leader, the pillar.

If you fall, they fall with you.

"I actually liked All Might as a hero, you know," you said through the tears. "He actually played with me, bought me gifts and treated me like the kid I was supposed to be."

You wiped the tears falling from your eyes.

Todoroki stared at your wrist, seeing what your soulmate wrote.

You chuckled, looking at the heterochromatic eyed man. "It was from my soulmate. I never met them, nor will I ever meet them. I guess they would only know who I truly am." You sniffled.

Shoto started to draw on his left arm a small heart with a distinctive flower in the middle.

Soon you felt your left arm tingle and there it was - the exact same heart with the exact same flower.

You stared at him, his eyes softening. "I wished I saved you earlier, but I'll save you now."

You smiled, looking at his determination. However, it was too late.

You've fallen a bit too deep to be saved now.

"Shoto..." you said, a sad smile gracing your lips, "...you can't. I've killed too many to be just signed off with a pardon or time in jail."

He began tearing. Your heart broke at the sight of him breaking down in front of you.

The cheerful man you knew from the years and years of conversations stood in front of you, willing to do whatever it took to get you in his arms - unchained and free - was sobbing. His cold facade long gone, only covered with grief and sorrow.

You, however, felt a warmth in your heart.

You finally got to meet your soulmate.

You finally are happy.

There and then, you knew what you needed to do.

"I'll tell you everything," you looked at Aizawa, "all the dirt I have on the villains and the vigilantes in Musutafu, I'll tell you."

He stared at you, smiling sadly.

"I'll even tell you who I am. In exchange, give me a full day with Shoto with no surveillance. I promise to not run away or do anything of that sort. I'll even take the death penalty I know that was fixed for me." you ended.

Shoto's anger began to boil. You felt it grow, the temperature in the room rapidly increasing.

Before Shoto could say anything, Aizawa agreed.

Shoto fell back on his chair, his hair now dishevelled - red mixing with white. His tear-streaked face now facing yours, taking in what he believed was your face.

"Shoto, could you please get me a towel? I feel a bit dirty... If possible, could you wet it, too?" You asked Shoto, knowing he needed to leave and get some fresh air. He quickly responded with a nod and went out of the room.

The minute he stepped out of the room, you faced Shinsou.

"I'm giving you full permission, Shinsou. Go ahead and see everything. I don't want to tell Shoto all I know. Let me tell you three who I am, at least," you ended with a chuckle.

You felt yourself relax as Shinsou soon entered your consciousness. It didn't feel painful or numb, like how Midoriya described it to Uraraka and Iida. It was as if someone just entered your room and wanted to see the things in it. Maybe it was because you willingly let him do it...

The feeling you had while he was reading your mind was as if you were with your mom in the small swimming pool she rented when you were a kid.

She gripped on your sides as she taught you how to swim, telling you to let the water be your friend and not oppose it.

It was calming... relaxing...

The minute you felt him leave, you felt the control of your body come back to you.

You saw sadness in Shinsou's eyes when he stared back at you. You just smiled and nodded at him, not knowing what to do.

Soon, Aizawa removed your handcuffs. You immediately stretched your wrists, moving your palms in a circular motion.

Shoto came rushing in with a bowl of water, a cloth and a bar of soap. He placed it in front of you and gave you a kiss on your head, leaving you a blushing mess.

He sat back on his chair and faced you, waiting for you to remove the dirt on your face to see your features better.

"Let's get this out of the way, shall we?" you chuckled, dipping the cloth in the water and slowly rubbing your face. You rubbed your hands with the bar of soap and then proceeded to rub the soap in your hands on your face, feeling your scars. After rinsing the soap off, you faced the three men.

"Hi, I am L/N Y/N, also known as Persephone." You looked at them, enjoying the shocked look on their faces.

You saw him begin to tear again. You instinctively got up and hugged him from the back. You began to rub the tears away, stopping any more from falling from his precious face. He began to relax into your touch, slowly placing the back of his head against your collarbone.

"Shoto," you said, turning your face to face him, "In my hand claw, there is a USB in a compartment right beneath the palm area. It contains everything on Ahnia Technologies. The money, the technology yet to be released along with the data on Diavolos. I'm leaving it to you."

"Don't cry, okay? I only have you for a few more hours, no more crying." You said, giving a kiss on his cheek.

"Help the people in Diavolo. Yes, some of them have done extremely bad things, but it was all because of me and my tyrant father," you clarified. "Help them live better lives, okay?"

You felt him give you a nod and you smiled.

You released yourself from the hug, looking at Aizawa. "I believe I can leave now, right?"

Shoto grabbed you by your wrists and ran out of the building. "I am going to make it the best 23 fucking hours of your life."

And it was.

The few hours you spent with Todoroki had been the best hours of your life.

It didn't feel sappy as the stories the elders used to tell you. It felt comfortable and right just to be with him.

The view of him eating cold soba in front of you, you both singing your lungs out to Paramore, you both relaxing at a book cafe - all of it - it felt just comforting and how a home should feel like.

The best part of it all - he could introduce you to his friends since they didn't know you were Persephone.

You hung out with Midoriya, Iida, Ochako, Tsuyu and Momo for 4 whole hours.

They took half the day off - just because Todoroki met his soulmate.

It kept making you think if you were born in a normal family, would have this been your life?

What if you entered a support class and just so happen to meet Todoroki there?

Would your life be like this? Surrounded by a bunch of friends, protecting Musutafu and being helpful to the world you loved?

You were cut off from your train of thought when Uraraka sat beside you. "You know, whenever you both talked to each other when we were in Yuuei, he used to actually giggle reading at your messages. He really wanted to ask for your number and meet up, but he felt he'd be pushing it a bit too far, so he just waited for you to stumble upon you." She said, beaming.

"We really thought he would never meet you, yet here you are! And he scored, man! A tech CEO? Honey, you have money-" You cut Ochaco with your laughter.

"You know he is way richer than me, right?" You said, wiping the tears of joy.

You were brought back to the conversation Uraraka just had with you.

You should've made the first move.

You knew he wouldn't be the one to make the bold moves.

You should've asked him.

You could've had so many dates with him, yet here you are counting down the hours before you get killed.

You felt two arms wrap around you, making you flinch. "You should really stop thinking too hard, Y/N," Shoto said, pressing on the fold formed on your forehead. "The day is too precious for that."

After saying goodbye to his friends, he drove you to his apartment.

To say it was beautiful is an understatement.

There were so many potted plants that enhanced the small gold accents he placed throughout the small apartment. It was the perfect mix of greens with the feel of a modern-day home.

"For one of the richest Japanese people in the world, you have a very small apartment," you said, chuckling. "It's perfect."

For the rest of the day, you both binged on movies, enjoying the feeling of being close to each other.

You played with Todoroki's fingers that were wrapped around your waist. His head was directly on the not of your head. He then pressed his nose on your neck, deeply breathing in your scent, humming softly.

This was all you needed.

Him in your arms and you in his.

In his small, quaint apartment, away from everyone else.

Soon, his phone rang. You looked at the caller ID and you already knew what was going to happen.

Your time is up.

It was time for you to leave for good.

You felt his hesitation to pick up the phone, so you did it for him.

"Hello Aizawa, where should Todoroki and I meet you?" you asked, feeling the grip on your waist tighten.

"Okay, noted. We'll be there soon," you said, ending the call.

You felt your back getting warmer thanks to the tears falling from Shoto's eyes. "I'm not letting you go."

You can't cry now.

You need to be strong.

This isn't the time to succumb to the sadness, Y/N.

You turned your back to face your soulmate. You pressed your forehead and placed your hands on his cheeks. "Todo..."

He didn't reply.

He didn't want to.

"Todo..." you whisper again, your voice slightly shaking.

He puts his hands on yours, his sobs turning into sniffles.

You raised his face to face yours, eyeing his lips. Your thumb grazes on his burn, his eyes immediately closing, enjoying the feeling.

Slowly, you placed your lips on his. In an instant, he responded, pressing his lips on yours. Small sparks emitted from that small contact. Each time his lips devoured yours, you melted even more. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

He wanted to feel you against him as much as he could.

Your hands left his cheeks and your arms moved to the back of his neck. You entangled your fingers in his dual-coloured hair, earning a small groan from him.

You soon pulled away. You placed the pad of your thumb on his lip, enjoying the feeling of it.

"Let me talk, okay?" you said. He soon nodded, knowing you wanted to get some things off your chest.

"Thank you for this, Sho. You gave me everything I could have ever wanted in these few hours, and for that, I am eternally grateful," you said, smiling weakly. "...You wanna know something?"

His eyes widened, focusing solely on you.

"The whole day I wondered if I didn't take over the mafia, how would we collide? Back then, I tried running away so many times. What if I managed to do it?" you started.

"I definitely would've tried out for UA for the support classes. I might have passed and entered 1-H. Maybe you needed to touch up your gear and you would've met me. But knowing how thick-headed we both are, we would've not seen the marks on each other's arms," you both laughed.

"We maybe would've crossed paths in the second year. I most probably would have developed a crush on you and maybe after seeing our marks, we would've begun dating." You said, cupping his cheeks. "Maybe we would be even sharing this very apartment."

"But that's not how our lives worked out. I got caught every single time and eventually gave in. I became the leader of Diavolos and I killed all those people, even the very person who gave me a glimpse of life as a normal kid," you began to tear, "I don't want to live like this anymore, Sho."

"I can't live remembering every single person I killed. I can't live carrying that Haladie blade and iron claw and not want to die almost every second. I can't live in this apartment without giving you all of me when you so easily can," you took a minute to calm yourself down, "I don't want to live anymore, Shoto."

Shoto's face darkened. "So, you're planning to leave me here, after - what - 25 years of waiting for you? You can't be this selfish, Y/N."

You knew that this was selfish.

Heck, anyone would know that this is selfish.

"I need to repent for my sins, Shoto. No community work can suffice for all the villainy I've committed," you ended.

The silence that ensued was deafening.

The sniffles that came from the both of you with the sound the fan gave off were the only sounds to come after.

After a few minutes, Shoto spoke. "All my life, I thought meeting your soulmate was something the Devil wished upon you. My father basically drove my mother to insanity and made my own oldest brother become a villain," he began. "I wish I could say the same about ours, but I can't."

"These few hours were the best fucking hours of my life. Every single moment I had with you is forever engraved in my mind, Y/N. You so easily broke my walls, ever since we were small," he gripped on you tighter, "I will always remember your small words to get me moving, how you'd push me to do more, to talk more and become more social."

"I love you, Y/N, but I need to give you away, right?" he said, looking at you with tear-filled eyes. His eyes begged you to deny the last statement, but your mind was already made up.

You nodded your head and pulled him into a hug.

Soon, you both were in his car, driving to where Aizawa asked to meet up.

Once you reached, you followed Aizawa and left Shoto in the room you were in before.

You got on the electric chair, closing your eyes as you felt the wet sponge being placed on your head.

From afar, you could hear Midoriya and Uraraka shouting at Aizawa to stop whatever he was doing, but Shoto stopped them.

You couldn't hear Shoto's answer when they asked why.

WC: 4406.

Ah, my favourite trope; messed up :'). I hope you enjoyed it! Each of the reblogs and likes is helping this blog grow, so thanks for all the support. Until the next fanfic! <3 First time hitting more than 2k word count so 0.0

[atsushigre]

night terrors III

pairing: dabi x reader

summary: comfort is a two way street; he has a nightmare and you come to his rescue

wc: 3117

warnings: reader briefly gets choked and not in the kinky way (but not intentionally in the abusive way either if that makes any sense), potential manga spoilers for dabi!!

a/n: AHHHH it’s finally done!! cannot believe this is my longest piece yet LMAO if i’d kept it all one part like i had intended it would have been stupid long so. here we are!! hope y’all enjoy and reblogs are appreciated (and i’ll try and be back with more stuff soon!!)

part i / part ii

the third time you really see him is maybe the most shocking of all (though if you’re serious with yourself, you really should have seen this coming). 

the mission had gone bad in every conceivable way, and you couldn’t say you were necessarily surprised. all signs had pointed to things going horribly awry, and yet you had volunteered your expertise regardless, and dabi had been quick to follow (though he maintained that same air of disinterest despite himself). but, even with your best efforts the mission had fallen to pieces and the two of you had barely managed a (fairly) safe retreat- he had gotten pretty badly wounded but all things considered, it could have gone far worse. 

barely holding yourself together as you escaped, you quickly tried to assess the situation, and soon realized that in the state he was in dabi wouldn’t make it back to where you were stationed fast enough. seemingly coming to the same conclusion, he had reluctantly directed you to help him to a place he had, some safehouse or abandoned apartment he kept when he spent time away from the league, and you had done your best to keep him conscious and drag him along with you as discreet as possible; the last thing either of you needed was for the heroes to have caught you in the state you were in - you wouldn’t have stood a chance. 

and here is where you find yourself, in the bathroom of an abandoned apartment, rifling through the near barren medicine cabinet for supplies to dress wounds as your partner in this mission bleeds out on the dusty couch. scooping up a variety of medical supplies (including a staple gun, though hopefully you wouldn’t have to use it - you may be handy but you were by no means qualified to be adding more staples to that man) and rushing out into the living room, you quickly dumped the supplies on the floor before rushing to the (similarly barren) kitchen, looking for any sort of alcohol for disinfecting. snatching the half-empty bottle of vodka, you came back down to crouch in front of the man and get to work. he hadn’t said much of anything since you’d unceremoniously dumped him on the couch and began your search, but those same electric eyes had tracked your movement throughout the apartment, pain clouding them as he grits his teeth. 

you set to work dressing his wounds, hoping and praying that your minimal first aid experience would be passable enough that he would survive the night and be able to see a real doctor (one that had undoubtedly been paid or strong-armed by the league, of course) in the morning. every once in a while he would seem to make a move, almost as if he intended to take over for you and patch himself up, but between the energy he had expended earlier that evening and your quiet soothing, every time he seemed to concede, sinking deeper into the ratty couch cushions and allowing you to continue your work in (mostly) silence. he barely had the energy for remarks, only able to summon a deep hum in affirmation when you would periodically ask him if he was awake. 

you pull back just a bit to admire your finished handiwork before looking up to meet his gaze, half-lidded eyes still watching you in silence. you can practically see the fatigue pulling at him at that moment but he musters up his last dregs of energy to straighten his slumped form on the couch, groaning in pain as he does so. you quickly lean forward, hands securing themselves on his shoulders as you crouch down to eye level.

“i’m gonna move you to the bed, okay? can i?” your eyes search his for an answer, and as you hear him grunt and seem to nod his head, you begin to lean his weight onto yourself as you maneuver him into the bedroom. you busy yourself getting him set in bed, acutely feeling the weight of his exhausted eyes on you as you make your way out of the bedroom once he’s settled, pausing in the doorway to give him one last once over.

“call for me if you need anything,” you sigh, and you hear the sarcastic snort as he faces his head away for you, eyes sliding shut as you linger in the doorway a moment longer. hesitantly you creep back to the living room, setting yourself down on the couch and dropping your head into your hands, waves of exhaustion rolling over you as the adrenaline of the evening seeps out of your system, and its as you run your hands exasperatedly over your face that you are met with the massive bloodstain covering the couch, where you’d intended to sleep this evening. a sigh leaves you as you set to work using the remaining (mostly) unstained cushions to form a makeshift bed of sorts before allowing the exhaustion of the day to settle over you like a blanket.

it’s less than two hours later when you’re woken with a start to the familiar sounds of a nightmare; however, this time, they’re not coming from you. no, instead, you can hear the distressed noises echoing off the walls and emanating from the bedroom, and panic grips your heart as you try and orient yourself, scrambling up off your makeshift bed and over to the doorway.

he’s thrashing around in the sheets, panicked gasps coming out of his lungs, and you can see his face screwed up in an expression of terror before he thrashes once more, facing away from you. scarred hands are fisted in the sheets, and you can hear the sizzling of what you can only assume is his flesh as his temperature begins to rise. you can almost hear him starting to mumble under his breath before the mumbles get louder and he begins to frantically shout. you’re practically paralyzed, standing in the doorway mouth agape as you take him in before something snaps in you and you quickly close the distance.

bracing yourself as you begin to shake his shoulders, you feel his form shuddering under you as he’s gasping for air. you shout his name as you try and still him before he can further disrupt your shoddy stitch work, but nothing could have prepared you for what came next.

electric eyes shoot open and meet yours, wild and feral as he launches himself forward, toppling off the bed with you as the room erupts in blue flame. one scarred hand is wrapped tightly around your throat, fingers digging into your skin as you feel the heat of his fire coalescing in his palm, and the other is reared back in a threatening pose, cobalt flames licking at his skin and casting their sickly glow over the dingy bedroom. his eyes are cloudy and wild, like a feral animal as he keeps you pinned to the floor, chest heaving with exertion, and as you struggle to claw your way out of his vice grip around your neck you barely see the fire growing dimmer as he comes to his senses.

“dabi,” you choke out, prying his fingers away from your throat, and it’s as if your raspy voice breaks the spell that had fallen over him as he scrambles off of you, blue flames extinguishing and leaving nothing more than the faint sound of sizzling in their wake. the room is dark, almost pitch black, besides the faint glow of city lights peeking from behind the curtains, and you take a long moment of pause, gaze glued to the floor as you gently run your fingers over the bruises you don’t doubt are already forming around your throat. you finally manage to lift your gaze, only to find him recoiled up against the wall, clutching the hand that was moments ago choking you out close to his chest, wild eyes flitting around and occasionally risking a glance in your direction.

it’s almost funny, in that tragic way; you know very little about the fractured man before you, nothing of his life before the league and barely anything even now that he is with you. he makes a point to dance around pointed questions (not that you were brazen enough to ask any) and keeps everything besides burning ambition locked inside of him, hidden away and detached from his person. but now you can almost see his edges fraying, that tightly wound façade unraveling, and in that minute he just looks very small and very sad, huddled up like a feral animal backed into a corner. he looks almost like a child; alone and afraid and unsure. you know logically you should turn your back and leave him, especially after what just transpired between you, but between the way he’s looking right now and the phantom feeling of a hand carding through your hair that threatens to overwhelm you, you feel your resolve cracking as you clear your throat.

his gaze jumps up to meet yours, eyes so wide the scarred skin around them is pulling on his staples, and you draw a deep breath in before reaching out a shaky hand, crawling slowly towards him. he flinches backward, and you watch as his eyes linger on the angry markings left around your throat as you hesitantly continue your approach.

“you uh. you had a nightmare. but it’s just me okay? you’re safe; we’re at your safe house.” you speak gently as you crawl right up to him, slowly moving to place your hand on one of his drawn in knees, and when he shows no signs of lashing out you close the last bit of distance, shaky hand resting lightly on the fabric of his pants as you patiently wait for any sort of response. you can feel how tense he holds himself, how tightly wound he is, and in the position he’s pulled himself into it’s impossible for you to get a good look at his abdomen; you’d have to assume that in the struggle he’d done something to disrupt your subpar sutures, and you couldn’t in good faith let him bleed out on the floor in a state like this. it seems like you’re going to have to push a little harder to get any sort of response out of him, shock setting into his bones as his vacant eyes fixate on where your hand meets his form. 

“i don’t know what you saw, and you don’t have to tell me- i don’t want you to tell me anything, okay? all i wanna do is help you right now; so, can you help me help you? is that okay?” your gentle whispers fill the air, and you can see some of the tension melting from his shoulders as his ragged breathing steadies, and that clouded look in his eyes seems to dissolve under the soothing tone of your speech. your thumb rubs gentle circles on his knee, and after a few long minutes of near-perfect silence, you can hear his bones begin to crack as he slowly unfurls himself, allowing you access to his injury. you quickly assess the damages, sighing in relief when you see they’re minimal, and look up to see him staring down at you while you work, eyes swirling with an undecipherable blend of emotions before he angles his head away. 

you know he feels guilty for what transpired; you can feel it rolling off of him in waves, see it in the way his eyes keep finding their way to the marks blossoming on your skin, sense it in the way he flinches away from your touch, almost sitting on his hands so as to not let them come in contact with you again. you can practically hear the apology in the air, but the little you know about him tells you he’d never manage to choke it out, and so you rise and busy yourself with the bed, resetting the cushions and fluffing the pillows before you cross back to crouch in front of him again, hand extended with confidence this time. 

he stares blankly at your extended hand for a long moment before looking up and almost past you, eyes still sparkling with fragments of fear, and a gentle smile creeps across your face as you let out a soft hum. 

“let’s get you to bed, okay?” reaching down you grasp his hand in yours, pretending not to notice the way he jumps slightly at the contact before you gingerly pull him up, resting his weight on your frame before getting him settled under the covers once again. you pull the blankets up to cover him before you hesitate for a moment, locking eyes with him again, and it’s almost as if something possesses you as you reach forward to smooth his hair back and away from his forehead. his eyes widen in surprise, and you can’t help the gentle smile that creeps onto your lips before you pull away, lingering in the doorway and casting one last look over your shoulder.

huddled under the covers, fully and properly exhausted as he comes down off of the fear-induced adrenaline spike of moments ago, it strikes you again just how small he looks; if you were really being honest with yourself, fragile was the word for it. a man held together by staples, body and soul, tormented by what you can only assume are ghosts of his past. 

maybe that’s why you linger in the doorway longer than you should. maybe that’s why instead of shutting the door behind you, you step back inside before gently pulling it shut, creeping back over to the bed and crawling up and on top of the covers. those same eyes track your movement, and you can almost feel him going to ask why you’re doing this as you push yourself up against the headboard and angle yourself towards him, gently carding your hand through his hair. you feel his questioning gaze before you hear the involuntary exhale of relief.

“this is so you’ll go back to sleep, so hurry up and close your eyes already. i don’t have all night.” you managed to make it through the whole sentence before you softly giggle, recalling the flipped scenario no less than a few weeks ago, and you feel him still below you before sighing and shifting his head into your lap, relaxing fully under the feeling of your hand smoothing over his hair. it seems that after the evening’s events, he’s simply too tired to keep up pretenses, melting under your gentle touch, and you can feel a small smile stretch over his face, staples grazing over your thigh where his face is angled into your lap. you think you hear a muttered thanks, and though you weren’t quite sure you wouldn’t dare ask him to repeat it, pleased enough at the prospect of a thank you in the first place.

you’re up for an extra hour, watching the man melt under the repeated caresses and allow sleep to take him (peacefully, this time), before that same exhaustion comes creeping back and sleep comes for you as well.

you wake as the late afternoon sun creeps through the ratty curtains, full-body exhaustion threatening to draw you back to sleep but the nagging urge to get dabi checked by a doctor pulling you back to consciousness. during the night you’d shifted, laying down against the bed, and a blanket previously nowhere to be found had been tucked over you. you push yourself up as you notice you’re sleeping in an empty bed, and as you tighten the blanket around your shoulders and hurry back into the living room, you can’t help the sigh of relief you let out when you see dabi standing in the barren kitchen rifling through a shopping bag.

“you scared me.” leaning up against the counter next to him, you can’t help the small grin that stretches across your face as he produces a steaming mug of tea, gesturing for you to drink before he draws his own to his lips. warmth bubbles up in your chest, doubled as you take slow sips of the tea, and you spare a few glances down at his torso, trying to catch a glimpse of his injury.

“we should go see the doctor,” you sigh, head tipped back, and he makes what you can only interpret as a dismissive noise as he rifles through the shopping bag again before producing a mound of fabric, lazily outstretching it towards you as he gazes out the window and sips on his own tea. you gingerly take it from him and unravel it, coming face to face with a soft black scarf, and you can feel your face heat up as your grin grows wider.

“here. wear this,” he drawls, and you can practically feel the apology stitched into the soft fabric as you wind it around your neck, covering the marks of yesterday. you can see his posture loosen once you finish and turn to him, taking a moment to show off, and a low chuckle and a wolf whistle fills the air as you strike an objectively ridiculous pose.

“lookin good,” he scoffs, eyebrow quirked and smirk tugging at his lips, before he gathers his things and unceremoniously dumps them back in his bag. he moves for the door, gesturing for you to follow, and something in you has you reaching out and catching his arm, fingers gripping onto his coat sleeve.

“we aren’t talking about it after this, i promise, but i get it, okay? i get it. so thanks for what you do for me, and i hope i can keep doing the same for you.” 

“i thought i told you not to mention it,” you hear him say, and before you can quickly rush to drop an apology you notice the small smile on his face, and that now-familiar warmth bubbles up inside of you again.

“you’re right. my bad; won’t happen again,” you grin, brushing past him to lead the way. you hear him scoff once more before following quickly behind, and you know deep inside you that you’ve come to cherish this rather unconventional arrangement the two of you have found yourself in. despite yourself, you can’t help but quietly wish for more opportunities to support and be supported like this; after all, you enjoy it far more than you’d be willing to admit. for as long as the two of you have night terrors, you hope the other will be there to pick up the pieces, night after night.

[dabis-devil]

Nothing Breaks Like a Heart. დ

-; ♡.° [ A/N: ] ୭̥ Okay so this idea just popped into my head and I couldn't not write it. This is my first fic and I really hope it doesn't blow over, let's hope for the best, loves! If Dabi ain't Touya, I'm gonna be a real fool, huh?

-; ♡.° [ Warnings: ] ୭̥ Gn!reader, Swearing, Suggestive content, sO mUcH aNgsT

-; ♡.° [ Summary: ] ୭̥ Everybody knows the infamous villian Dabi, his name spreads fear across the streets of Japan. Many would hate to admit it, but he wasn't always cold and alienated. It all bubbles down to one girl, who left his heart in shambles.

-; ♡.° [ Tag list: ] ୭̥ birthday girl! @queensynderella (👾 here)

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

It was a brisk Friday night, cool air hitting Touya's pale skin. Bandages clothed his forearms, which seemed to be more burnt every time the redhead came to see y/n. These burns inflicted by his quirk hadn't yet damaged his skin to the point of no repair, but it most definitely wasn't perfect. His large hands fumbled with the clasp of the gate to his home, Touya found himself sneaking out to see y/n more often than not. Enji claimed he was hitting the rebellious stage of his adolescence, little did he know that this would become his son's day to day life.

Against his better judgement, Touya was nineteen and still living at home. He had no where else to go, and he had siblings to rescue from their nightmare of a father. He desperately wanted to take shouto from the unfair wrath of their old man, but he was unable to do so. Instead, he would sweep his brother up into a tight hug whenever he mustered the chance. That poor kid, getting tossed around and neglected. His heart went out to young Shouto.

Touya’s figure was clothed in a baggy black tank top with black jeans and a dark zip up hoodie paired with a pair of black boots (you can @ me on this, he was edgy before dabi became dabi). He had his signature nose studs and additional ear piercings at his time too. He was working on getting a job of his own, something to get him money and fast. After that he would move out, hopefully taking his siblings with him.

As of now, y/n is the only rabbit hole he has. The only escape from his everyday terrors. That's why he was walking alone on the streets around twelve a.m., counting down the very minutes until he could reach their address. The lit cigarette hanging from his lip left a trail of smoke in its midst, that could barely be seen even with the midnight glow. His steps were shallow and speedy, hellbent on getting over to y/n’s place. Seeing that beautiful face every night is what brought him joy, and made carrying on each morning that much easier.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

Y/n was sprawled across their bed, carefree and unalert. Like most teens, they wouldn't go to sleep early. They had training tomorrow with the rest of class 4-A, but couldn't sleep. Not with the thoughts pooled in their head, that they sat to contemplate and overthink. Y/n grew distant to their dear boyfriend, Touya, and the guilt weighed a ton. Though the weight of what news you planned to share with him tonight is a million times heavier.

Y/n’s (e/c) eyes we're glued to their phone screen, set on a picture they had taken with Touya a few short weeks ago. A single tear rolled down their rosy cheeks. ' This is gonna break him. ' they thought. Y/n was pulled away from their thoughts when the glass window beside the desk gently rattled, a certain troubled redhead struggling to crawl through their window sill. Y/n frantically wiped their face before he got the opportunity to see a pinch of sadness in their expression- at least a pinch they didn't want him to notice. “ hey baby. . ” they smiled half heartedly, slipping from their cozy bedframe.

“ hey, princess, ” He smiled geekily. As Touya dusted off his jacket from the greenery and gunk that plagued the material, they pressed their plush lips to his. Truth be told they clung to him for a bit too long that night. In all fairness, this would be the last kiss they got from him.

As much as it pained y/n to do this, Touya Todoroki was bad for them.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

A little while later, the night had taken y/n. Touya laid with his arms tightly wrapped around their frame, their head atop his clothed chest. He had been falling in and out of sleep as the television played a series- one of their favorites. Y/n on the other hand, couldn't get a wink of rest. Instead, their eyes burned with the sensation to hold back tears. Finally, one spilled over their eyelid. They scrambled to wipe the droplet of moisture away before it soaked through his shirt, not only failing but drawing extra attention to theirself. Touya’s turquoise eyes fluttered open, immediately drawn to y/n. He sat up, in turn pulling them up with him. The fingers of his right hand ended up under their chin, magnetizing his gaze to their own. “ doll, what's wrong? ” he cooed, eyebrows knitted at y/n’s profound sadness.

Y/n did everything in their power to keep their eyes peeled, the only working strategy was simply squeezing them shut. Y/n could no longer hold back the water works, the fluid boiled over and rolled down their pained face. Y/n didn't need eyes to see Touya’s small frown, they could feel it. “ T-Touya. . . ” their breath hitched in the back of their throat. “ we need to talk. ” Y/n’s voice was shakey, and this whole scene was quite frankly uncomfortable considering how out of touch Touya is with his emotions.

Y/n felt Touya stiffen underneath them, and opened their eyes to catch him staring. Turquoise eyes half lidded as usual. He is obviously concerned, one masculine hand rubbing circles into y/n’s back. He kept quiet, giving them the time they need to spit out their burden. “ I. . I can't do this anymore. I can't watch you kill yourself. ”

In more ways than one, Touya had proven destructive. Not only that, but he didn't care. The redheads loving embrace faded, instead it just seemed like a stranger was holding them close. Y/n didn't want to imagine how this made him feel, even worse about how he would pretend to feel. “ I- what? Whad’ya mean? ” Touya scrunched his nose in confusion. “ my quirk? ” the male asked. Sadly he missed the point, and this wouldn't be as simple as they hoped. Maybe he didn't want to accept the truth so soon.

Y/n’s shakey palm met the side of his face, sweeping along his sharp jaw. “ you get high all the time, you don't trust me, you've been so distant these last few weeks. . And when I try to check on you, I get shut down. ” a steady stream of tears now rolled down their cheek. “ I've been thinking about it for a while, Touya. . ” y/n’s choked up sobs filled the room, his silence wavering in their mind. Touya was trying to make sense of the situation, or come up with false feelings. It stung to know that he felt his emotions are invalid. “ I'm so sorry, I just. . I can't baby. ”

Touya was a sitting statue on your bed, his turquoise orbs glued to the sheets. The things you two have done. . The memories. . The plans for the future. . All swirling down the drain. “ I can stop. ” his voice distantly aching with sorrow. his head swiveled towards y/n, giving them all the attention he could. The poor boy was loosing it, just at the possibility of losing the one person that mattered most to him. His anchor

“ I've already tried to get you help. You wouldn't take it. ” y/n frowned softly. “ I can't believe that again. . ” though the last thing they wanted right now was to separate themselves from Touya in his time of need, it was far too much to bare. After all, you can't help someone that doesn't want to be helped.

Y/n slowly wiggled out of the redhead's embrace, instead sitting across from him and holding one bandaged hand within their own. Y/n was begging for him to say something, to say anything. Instead, they would gaze at a shell of what used to be Touya.

“ y/n, please- ” the scarred teen pleaded. His expression was something in a sea of despair, yet he couldn't quite express that. He couldn't cry. All he could do was sit across from y/n and hope they could forgive him, hope that he could fix his issues. His chest was heavy, each rise and fall more tense than the last. “ I'm sorry. . Let me fix this. Please. . ? ” frantic words jumbled, something that made y/n pull him into their arms, and rest his head in the crook of their neck. Droplets of clear water fell down their face, seeing him like this was unbearable. It had to be done.

Fingers combed through the boys spiky red hair, his rapid breathing slowed to a calm. Y/n pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “ I love you, but I can't do this anymore. ” their soft whispers were almost tranquil to Touya, despite the underlining meaning. This voice he cherished each night, he just had to hear it a bit more before he made his exit. “ don't forget that, okay? If you're better in the future, maybe we could try this again. ” they reassured, petting his silky locks.

Touya pulled away, head still hung. “ This is. . This is what you want? ” He looked upwards, turquoise orbs burning into y/n’s, hoping for the answer he expected to be wrong.

“ yeah, ” y/n answered under their breath, breaking the precious concentration on his beautiful eyes.

Touya rose from the bed, reaching for his leather jacket and pulling on his boots. Shortly after, heading for the window. The silence was more than just that, it was the lack of an idea on what to do here. Y/n decided to stand up as well, arms crossed over their chest. “ I- uh- ” he cleared his throat, tugging open the window. “ I'll see you around then. ” he managed to catch a last glimpse of the love of his life, before feeding his slim body out of the window. Tears fell from y/n’s face to the floor beneath them. As much as their fragile heart hurt right now, things would get better. It had to.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

The second Touya’s boots hit the leaves beneath him, one foot sprung in front of the other. He found himself running away from y/n’s home, almost as if his life depended on it. He could barely walk, his head was spinning, chest was tight, and his dressed wounds began to ache. Yet his feet carried him away. He didn't want to go home, the thought of going back with no escape made his skin crawl. The moon above lit the teens path as he aimlessly ran.

The time escaped him, as he wound up on the bad side of town. Rumored to be crooks and thieves around every street corner, and worse beyond that. Fresh out of breath, Touya placed his hands on a wall to catch himself, knees buckling underneath the weight. He slid down the brick wall in the dimmed alleyway, scooping his knees up to his chest. He was alone, a bit scared, and heartbroken. His eyes fell shut, and his head rolled onto his knees. Before he knew it, Touya had passed out, with one thing on his mind: y/n.

[pop-culturereference]

as long as i’m reflecting you

Summary: “I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out yet. I'm you, Hawks."

@hawksweek2020 day 1: Cliché

If you’d rather read on ao3 (or if you want to read my long rant in the chapter notes): https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203351

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Gen

Rating: G

Characters: Hawks, Dabi

Dabi towers over Hawks as he lies there, helpless, blue flame licking greedily at his face and wings. He can feel himself shriveling under the heat, but perhaps the worst part is this:

Takami Keigo.

Dabi knows his name. Dabi knew all along what Hawks was doing there, knows more than even his friends do—his name.

Hawks panics at the sound of Dabi’s boots crunching on the broken shards of his visor—He can’t die here! The battle is far from over, and he’s the only hero ready and equipped to deal with the aftermath. There’s not much Hawks can do, at this point, but he does have one option. Dabi needs time between using his quirk in order to recover. Use conversation, distract him, draw him in. In Hawks’s experience, villains never pass up a chance to gloat and throw their self-righteousness in everyone’s face. Get a villain talking about themself, and they won’t shut up. Even closed-off Dabi will likely blab his life story, thinking Hawks is about to die. It’s worth a shot.

“The only members of the League I found nothing on were you and Shigaraki. I found everyone else’s background, their families—but for you, I couldn’t even find a name. Who are you?”

Dabi sets a foot on Hawks’s back, leans his weight into it. Hawks pushes himself up with his hands as much as he can to prevent his ribs from snapping. He’s miscalculated. Dabi will keep his secrets over his ego. Hawks accepts his death even as he fights and pushes against it; he can’t die, but he’s going to, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s expecting Dabi to burn him to death right there, and he’s already bracing himself and gritting his teeth against the heat. He is <em>not</em> expecting Dabi to crouch down, one foot still on Hawks’s back, and whisper:

“I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out yet.” There’s a warm huff of laughter on his ear that has Hawks cringing away, then— “I’m you, Hawks.”

-----------------------------

Hawks wakes up to the horrible smell of antiseptic solution and the annoying tug of compression sleeves on his leg hair. Then, of course, the swoop of vertigo that speaks of some Pretty Heavy Anaesthesia. He tries to cough the smell out of his mouth, but is met with a sore throat—more than sore, actually. It’s like someone’s taken literal sandpaper and dragged it down his entire esophagus. He gags, tries to sit up, is hit off balance by the vertigo, and promptly throws up over the side of the bed.

He leans back against his pillows and wallows in the agony his stomach acid has raked over his poor, abused, sandpapered throat.

“Can I get you anything?” asks a nurse holding a bucket. Oh, good. He’d vomited into a bucket and not all over the hospital floor.

Hawks gestures frantically to his throat with a plea in his eyes that the nurse hopefully interprets as “water,” or “cough drop,” or even, “please just slit my throat and put me out of my misery.”

The nurse hands him both water and cough drops. Hawks’s eyes water with gratitude. Well, either that or pain. Maybe both.

“Sorry, man,” says the nurse as he reaches to adjust Hawks’s blanket. “They had to do surgery on your wings, and you had a breathing tube.”

Hawks croaks in horror. “Wings!?”

“They’ll be all right. You also had some skin grafts for the burns.”

Burns. Dabi. I’m you, Hawks.

“Phone,” he demands urgently.

With his miraculously only-slightly-singed phone in his hands, Hawks shoos the nurse away and starts tapping and typing with frenzied vigor.

His google search shows him an article spotlight on him, featuring an interview with Tokoyami, who apparently saved him. Good kid, that Tokoyami. It also shows him that there were minimal casualties and that apparently the UA students were spearheading the clean-up and rebuilding of the battleground. Okay. Okay. Good, good. All of it good. 

Now, what he <em>really</em> wants to know: Dabi.

To: VP HPSC: 

get me every pic i ever sent u of dabi highest res possible asap

also the cam footage of lov hideout

To the number he’d found on Google for the news network he saw at the raid:

Hi, this is Hawks. I saw your news logo at the fight in Reika. I was wondering if you could send me any footage you managed to get of the villains. Thank you. Here’s a selfie for proof it’s me.

To: Dabi (Villain):

hey ik its a bit of a long shot but like i would love an explanation thanks xoxo <3

He knows Dabi’s claim is ridiculous. He knows, all right? What he’s actually hoping to find is some connection to Endeavor. There’s definitely <em>something</em> familiar about Dabi, and that, paired with the fire quirk, could explain it. 

The first replies he gets are the pictures and footage from the Commission. Hawks zooms in and examines Dabi’s hair. He always knew it was dyed.The roots come in a lighter color, which would make his hair look perpetually greasy if it laid flat; but instead, it makes his spiky hair look just the slightest bit detached from his head. As he looks at the pictures, he’s surprised to realize that he was already biased toward his Endeavor explanation in his head: he was thinking Dabi’s hair was white, like the color of Todoroki Shouto’s ice side, from whoever was Endeavor’s wife. Closer scrutiny shows that it’s actually a dark blond, like Hawks’s own hair. 

That doesn’t mean anything, though.

Dabi’s aesthetically stapled under-eye bags are right in the spot where Hawks has his natural eye markings.

The one picture he managed to find of Dabi shirtless (It’s okay, Hawks reminds himself. I’m a creep with a noble cause. It was for the intel) shows that the stapled purple skin covers the part of his back where Hawks has his wings. If Dabi had wings and they were removed, purple skin grafts or whatever those were would cover up the evidence quite nicely.

And… what Hawks learned during the raid. Dabi’s weakness is his own quirk. Fire. That’s Hawks’s own biggest weakness. That’s almost too much to be a coincidence…what if…?

As he’s looking over the Commission’s images, he almost drops his phone in surprise because Dabi (Villain) texts him back. 

Every intelligent thought in his head evacuates in favor of wtfwtfwtfwtf.

It’s a selfie—a close-up of Dabi’s face, right behind a hand that’s flipping him off. It’s just the puzzle piece that he needs, because the small gleam of light catches on the telltale glint of a contact lens, and Hawks can see where the edge of the blue goes lighter where it’s not covering the colorful iris underneath—Dabi’s eyes aren’t actually blue. And, what Hawks has always thought of as edgy eyeliner looks suspiciously similar to his other eye markings.

Another quick text to: Pres HPSC, VP HPSC:

i dont have any sort of long lost twin brother right??? or like an evil clone or smth??

Almost instantly, he receives a No.

It should be a relief, but his mind’s still going haywire. Dabi…is him? He is Dabi? Dabi is Hawks? Does Hawks is Dabi who? Shut up, brain, you didn’t connect shit. It Dabi, Takami Keigo Dabi Hawks… if Hawks? Who Takami Dabi… he…   

-----------------------------

Maybe I shouldn’t try thinking when I’m high on painkillers, he thinks when he wakes up. 

As he looks around, he realizes he’s been moved to a more long-term room. Instead of curtains, it has a door, and there’s a TV and a nightstand. His phone is dead and he’s not about to call the nurse to come plug it in for him, so he switches on the TV instead, not sure how much he can trust his conclusions on the outcome of the raid if he convinced himself that he was somehow Dabi in the same 10-minute timespan.

The first thing that shows up on the news channel is a report about Hawks, and he’s greeted with the atrocious selfie he took to prove his identity to the news channel. His hair is a devastated battleground and missing completely on his burned side, he’s covered in gauze and medical tape, and his smile looks half-crazed. What was he thinking?

“Hawks is recovering in an unknown hospital, but he looks to be well. The real question is, will the Number Two Hero still be able to charm without half of his famous wind-swept hair?”

“I don’t know, Motome-san. Let’s look at some footage of the battle. I’m sure any lady—or gentleman—would be charmed by someone willing to go so far to protect them.”

Hawks rolls his eyes and scowls, but doesn’t turn off the TV. If they show his fight with Dabi—if he could get a quick glimpse of him—he could turn off the idiot switch in his brain that won’t shut up. 

Instead, what he sees is a streak of red that flies into Dabi’s hand. That’s one of his feathers. Dabi controlled one of his feathers. Dabi has control of Hawks’s Fierce Wings.

To hell with his pride! Hawks repeatedly jams the help button on the side of his bed, and a nurse arrives soon after, out of breath. Hawks feels a little bad for scaring the poor man, but he needs to charge his phone. As soon as it turns back on, he sends out the text to almost every single one of his contacts.

Hi all, this is Hawks. I’ve figured out the identity of the villain Dabi. It should help you lure him out and take him down. DABI IS ME. Text me with any questions. Go after him with fire, if you can.

Within three minutes, Hawks has rejected 7 calls. Text me with any questions, he said. Not call. He won’t be speaking with his sandpaper throat for at least the next month if he has anything to say about it. 

Someone with enough manners finally texts instead of calls. It reads: omw to kill you right now. should have finished the job last time.

Oh, shit. Did he really send that message to Dabi? 

Yeah. He did.

SOS this is not a joke, he sends to the HPSC. Dabi just texted me says he’s going to kill me right now. i’m in the hospital, can’t fight. PLEASE send someone

He answers the next call from Pres HPSC. “Can’t talk,” he rasps and tastes blood on his tongue. The president talks to him and he gives one tap for yes, two taps for no.

“Do you really want us to send someone?”

One tap.

The president sighs. “Hawks, as soon as you can speak, I expect the most thorough, detailed, in-depth report you’ve ever given in your life.”

--------------------------------

With Hawks’s warning, they capture Dabi easily enough. He shows up at the hospital directly and comes face-to-face with Endeavor, who, knowing about his weakness to fire, easily takes him down.

When Hawks visits Tartarus a month later to interrogate Dabi, he wonders how he ever missed it. Without the dye and the contacts, there’s no denying that Dabi is Hawks. He’s left wondering, though.

“Why did you text me at the hospital that you were on your way to kill me? I immediately got Endeavor there. I thought you were a little smarter than that.”

Dabi just shrugs, his newly-regenerated red feathers rustling with the movement. “Obviously not. I am you, after all.”

[randomguywithwords]

As The Dust Settles: Chapter 20 (Geten X Dabi Slowburn)

Chapter 19: Hawks’ Visit

AO3 Link

Previous Chapters: 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

–––––––––––

“You...again?” Geten eyed the winged hero as he sauntered in, bearing a basket of fruits with a hovering feather. He was the first – and hopefully the last, unless it was the man who landed her in this bed – visitor on this Monday afternoon. 

“I just came to check on you. I hope you’re not a carnivore.” With a cordial smile, he placed the gift on the bedside table. 

“Don’t you have...hero duties to attend to? To keep up appearances?” The shiny surfaces of the apples glinted at her. She found their presence less a gift of generosity and more a peace offering. After all, their last conversation hadn’t ended on good terms. Her wariness of this hero-turned-villain lingered.

“Oh, I’ve done them. Not to brag, but I’m pretty fast. Efficient too.” Hawks sheathed his wings and took a seat on the chair facing her. 

“Were you sent by Shigaraki?” 

“Nope, came here on my own. I can’t say I like taking orders from the big guy. I prefer to spread my wings and be free, y’know?” 

Free. The word rang differently in Geten’s head now, after regurgitating up the words and lies she was fed by the Liberation Army, and she found them bitter. Disgusting. It made her want to retch. The man in front of her sounded genuine in that sense, in desiring liberation. It sounded entrancing, but she remembered their last encounter where that same smile threatened her position and life. 

“The last time we talked…” Geten measured her words. “You said to find you when I’ve figured which side I’m on. And you’ve come to find me. Tell me, what does this gesture of yours mean?” 

Hawks had the grace to look embarrassed. “All right, you got me. Sorry about our last conversation. I didn’t trust you that much then, because of your – to put it nicely, questionable tactics, that I had uncovered. But I heard what you did from talking to the other lieutenants, I think you’ve changed, and that you’re really a part of the PLF. So I’d like to make it up to you.” 

Admittedly, her arms felt less tense after hearing his rationale. There was a sincerity in his words. 

“So you’re saying you trust me?” Geten definitely did not reciprocate this notion. 

“I believe I can trust you much more than a few days ago, at least. I’m guessing something happened within that span of time.” 

“If you talked to the rest about the briefing I missed, then there’s no need to ask me what happened.” Her ears felt hot imagining how that mission debrief went. But considering how Shigaraki’s visit went, Dabi probably said something backing her up. She added that to the list of things to ask Dabi about. 

Hawks raised his arms. “All right, I won’t pry. Just came to apologize. If my being here is uncomfortable, I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Geten’s nerves were in overdrive, as if Sanctum were present, producing voltages from his quirk. Hawks gave off the same feeling, but she thought about the girl who looked at her with fear as she handed the book to her yesterday. If that perception of her remained, then Destro’s clutches over her life would be too. She would always be seen as the cold lieutenant of the PLF, seeking liberation of her “meta-ability” over anything. And she came to the conclusion that she despised that idea. 

“Wait,” She sighed, as Hawks was getting out of his chair. “It’s fine. I suppose I owe an apology for my behaviour as well.”

“Ah. Not gonna lie, that was unexpected. What the hell happened – Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t need to know.” 

Geten lightly chuckled. “What were you even doing the past few days, anyway? You didn’t show up for meetings.”

Hawks did a ‘I-don’t-know’ hand gesture. “Well, I’m technically not a lieutenant of a regiment or anything. I’m just a spy. So Skeptic’s, with Shigaraki’s approval, sent me to see what info I can get from the HSPC.”

“I see. Should I be hearing all of this?”

“Don’t see why not. I’ve been talking to Twice about this too, and you’re all lieutenants. Same clearance, if anything.”

“Bubaigawara?” That was a minor surprise. “Are you two friends?” 

Hawks cocked his head. “That’s one way to put it. I’ve been teaching him Liberation ideology.”

Ah. That struck a sour chord with Geten. It would have been pleasing to hear just a few weeks ago, before the doubts began to plague her mind. “For his regiment, I presume?”

“Yeah, he’s trying to prove himself a good leader. That’s pretty cool of him, so I’m helping him along with that.” 

“You read the book?” Geten said.

“Destro’s autobiography? Yeah. I’ve been advertising it to some heroes. Re-destro’s pretty happy about that. He’s a...funny guy, when he’s not angry.”

“He’s always angry.” She couldn’t help herself but spit out that sentence, sending the temperature in the room plummeting. Hawks blinked. 

“Uh...sorry, is he a bad teacher? He was your mentor, right? Or still is…” Hawks’ voice trailed off. 

She gulped. Don’t talk about it, she warned herself. As nice of a person Hawks was seeming, she definitely didn’t want him telling anyone else, much less Yotsubashi himself, about her change of heart towards the PLF and its leader. 

“No – I mean, yeah, he is. But I mostly conduct my own training now. And no, he’s an okay teacher, but I’ve made him mad a couple of times. Just...bad memories, is all.” She pursed her lips, mentally bashing herself. 

“My bad, I won’t bring him up then.” 

Geten was desperate to change the subject. “So, you think what Destro wrote resonates with you?” 

“Well, not to the extent of creating a cabal organisation and infiltrating the Hero Commission to spread his word, but I’m from the League, so I’m not one to talk. Still, his ideas of freedom and liberation…” There was a wistful look in his eyes as he stared at the afternoon sky. 

“Did I ever tell you why I became a hero at first? Before joining the League.” Geten shook her head. 

“I’m only telling you this in confidence,” He said, “And because out of all the people in the Liberation Front, you seem to really take the ideology to heart.”

Geten nodded slowly, hiding how that statement was a red hot poker through her chest. 

“I liked my meta ability a lot, but I could never really use it because of the laws of usage. So I heard about heroes and how they could use it to fight crime and save people. That’s why I became one.”

He sighed. “Then it turned out that becoming a hero placed even more restrictions on me. It was just filling out paperwork and being sent on patrols. It sucked, and that’s putting it kindly. So, here I am. It’s why I found so much meaning in Destro’s ideology. I’m guessing you feel the same.”

She nearly choked on the words. “Yeah, I guess.” So Hawks believes it? Well, he’s never faced the hell I went through, she argued. But his words sent a chill down her spine, because that’s exactly what she sounded like the first time she spoke to Dabi in the hotel. How easy was it to essentially brainwash a hero like Hawks?

You’re wrong, she wanted to tell him. But his story sounded truthful. He was shackled by the norms of hero society, and found freedom in the League, and by extension the Liberation Front. But she was born into it, made to believe it, speak for it with no voice for herself. 

Could that be the difference? 

Choice? 

“Anyway.” Hawks was getting out of his chair, snapping her out of her thoughts, “I should let you get more rest. Festival’s approaching, you probably need to start training soon.”

She gave a murmur of agreement. 

When he was at the door, he turned back. “So...allies?”

“Allies.” She affirmed. 

Hawks gave a grin and left, leaving Geten to stare at the ceiling. 

Freedom. The word didn’t sound as poisonous in her mind now. No, she did want freedom. Freedom from this Liberation Front. As to how she was to get it, she had a rough idea. 

–––––––

Standby for report. Usual. 

As he soared through the skies, Hawks willed the inked feather on the presidents’ desk to move, scribbling out the message on the fresh sheet of paper like a magic quill. It was their private form of communication, one that he was sure even Skeptic couldn’t trace. As far as he knew, he could control the stray feather from a maximum distance of 50 kilometres. And it was his best way of informing her if he ever died, because, he assumed, it would be noticeable. 

Once that message was sent, and hopefully received, he shifted focus to what had just happened. 

Well, that didn’t work, was his first thought. He wondered if he had been too soft on her, but he had little authority to assert unless he wanted to outrightly threaten her, but that was no longer possible given her relationship with Dabi – of all people. 

Things became much more harder now that she was no longer the isolationist within the PLF. 

He replayed the encounter in his mind, noting her spark of rage when Yotsubashi was mentioned. That was no surprise: she had rejected Re-destro’s leadership since his defeat, but the extent of her outburst took him aback. Something happened during her mission that he had to know. 

Takami cursed his absence that Saturday. Shigaraki’s emergency meeting was unexpected. The only source of information he had was from Bubaigawara, and the man was equally clueless. According to him, Dabi didn’t say much about it, only that the fight between the two lieutenants and Takame was difficult. 

He could try probing Dabi, but he was likely drawing sufficient suspicion from him. Any more, and he would be dead. Re-destro was another option, but Takami guessed the man had even less information to offer, even if he was interrogated. 

So that left Apocrypha and Twice. The former would definitely be of greater use, but she trusted him half as much as the latter. He would have to try again, maybe tomorrow. If he was correct, she would be hospitalised till Friday – assuming she held up her end of that bargain with Dabi. 

He let out a chuckle, thinking about how he froze up when he heard that conversation. 

I’ll be damned, Dabi and her, it’s almost poetic. If this were high school, he would have no qualms playing matchmaker. But since both were psychopaths in their own right, they were a lit cigarette at a gas station, and Keigo was unsure how far he could push them before they came at him brandishing ice and fire. 

He entertained himself thinking about this. Given Dabi’s behaviour and actions, he suspected some form of self-resistance on Dabi’s part, and Apocrypha was probably confused about emotions and all that. All things considered, she was handling her transition towards humanity better than he thought, putting it somewhat dramatically. 

Who knew I’d be using what I learnt from my training to watch a clueless couple of villains decipher their own feelings? If he ever wrote a autobiography – assuming he survived all this, this would be up there, along with all the war crimes he would have to commit in the name of peace. 

One of which would have to be conducted soon, if he had no answer to deliver to his superiors. Alternatively, after reporting all of this, maybe they had another way. They always seemed to, after all. Frustration constricted his face, with, thankfully, no one to witness it. 

Goddammit, Shigaraki, what are you after? What’s the Festival really for?

[lewishamledger]

Onwards and upwards

As the 2018-19 football season kicks off, we ask a number of people connected with Millwall FC – from fans to a member of the board – for their thoughts on the club’s past, present and future

As told to Luke G Williams

Michael Avery from the Millwall Supporters’ Club assesses how Millwall did on the pitch last season, and their prospects for next season “Where do we begin? After promotion from League One and a start where Lady Luck seemed to be flirting with our opposition, it seemed like we may be looking over our shoulders for the 2017-18 season. The trap door was just behind us creaking, but there were teams who were destined for the hangman’s noose before us.

“Our season changed on January 20, 2018 at Elland Road against Leeds United. After months of away fixtures where we would cruelly have points we deserved snatched from us, our boys in navy finally faced their demons and got the three points. The 4-3 away win was the catalyst we needed, and we never looked back.

“The trap door disappeared out of sight and we were now looking up. Away wins kept coming and coming and before we knew it we were talking about unbeaten streaks, daring to dream. The team many fancied for the drop now looked like they would leave the Championship via promotion to the Premier League.

Lady Luck was on our arm, but unfortunately for The Den faithful, she was seduced by a team from west London and left us for the soon-to-be promoted Fulham.

“Last season was fantastic, and we would love to replicate it, but we have to be realistic. I don’t think Millwall will go down, instead I think we will be comfortably mid-table.” Mark Baxter, a Lions fan for 50 years, explains what the club means to him and his favourite Millwall memories

“I’m Camberwell born and bred and so that made it a choice of Millwall or Crystal Palace for my local club. My dad was a Millwall fan and I’ve stuck with them ever since. Millwall isn’t a glorious, glamour club; it’s a club that’s handed on to you. You either stick with it or go looking elsewhere for trophies.

“Most of my mates growing up supported Chelsea or West Ham or Spurs, so I stood out as a Millwall fan, but supporting them meant I could go and watch live football locally, which I loved.

“The amount of trouble down there in the 70s was ridiculous so I stopped going for a bit. My dad said he would give me a slap if I went! I came back to Millwall around the late 80s and I’ve had a season ticket pretty much ever since.

“Millwall is in my blood. For Millwall fans, I think the club is part of their being. We don’t win much in the way of trophies and the ground is quite a hard place to get to, but if it’s in your blood and your heart you keep going. You’re addicted to it.

“And then you get those great moments – there was the goal Gary Alexander scored at Wembley, which was one of the best goals ever scored at Wembley by any player for any club.

“That was particularly special because I know Gary, he’s a local boy, my wife grew up knowing his family. To see someone you know score a goal for the club you support at Wembley was quite a moment.

“Plus the FA Cup final at Cardiff in 2004, of course. I never thought I’d see that day. I went in a minibus with all my mates and my family, including my mum who was in her 70s then. That was quite a day, a really big occasion.”

Micky Simpson, current “fan on the board” and founder of the Association of Millwall Supporters, on his role and the development saga surrounding Millwall’s stadium

“The easiest way to describe my role is that it’s a fan liaison role. It’s about giving the fans a voice within the club. I take fans’ concerns to the relevant people, including to the board if needed, depending on the level of concern.

“These concerns might be about ticket allocation, transport issues or police dealings with the fans. Or I might take ideas to the board. There’s no job description set in stone as such, but I do pretty much anything and everything I can to support the fan base.

“Then there’s other things I do. Just yesterday I was chatting to a guy in a caff, a Millwall fan, near the ground and I was able to take him into the stadium to meet [former player] Jimmy Carter and take some pictures pitchside. Meeting and talking to this Millwall legend pretty much made a 50-odd year old man cry with happiness.

“I try to use my role to do good and make sure there is a connection and communication between the fans and the club. I use Twitter and various forums to do that. The role works and I think it shows a lot of forward thinking on the part of the club to have this role.

“I just hope that with a new mayor and cabinet in Lewisham that we can now move forward as a club with the development of the stadium. It’s hard to believe that a club as big as Millwall weren’t originally placed at the centre of the regeneration plans for the area, rather than treated like a nasty boy in the corner. That never would have happened to Arsenal or Manchester United.

“If the media were to look at Millwall without blinkers on, they would see that we are a very strong community club with our heart in the local working-class community.”

Peter Garston, former “fan on the board” and still a member of Millwall’s board of directors, on why he believes the club’s community work deserves more attention

“I am a lifelong Millwall fan – my first game was in 1969. For me it’s more than a football team; coming from a dysfunctional family as a child, Millwall was my first real family, to the extent that I named both of my children after players, Harry after Harry Cripps and Alfie after Alfie Wood.

“In 2005 I was voted on to the board of directors of Millwall as “FOTB” by my fellow fans, an honour I will never be able to repay. In 2016 I decided to stand down and was honoured that chairman John Berylson asked me to remain on the board as a director. He also invited me to become a director of Millwall Holdings. Then last year I was offered the position of trustee on the Millwall Community Scheme – I still hold all these positions.

“I have followed Millwall through many ups and downs; I was a travelling fan during the 70s and 80s and that experience, along with the board positions I hold, has enabled me to have an all-round overview of the club.

“I have seen many things during my time – both good and bad – but the one thing I can never understand is the media’s inability to report on the excellent work we do in the community week in week out – work we have been doing for many years.

“With over-50s clubs and Irish clubs to name but a few, we are truly all-inclusive. As fans every year we also raise considerable sums for every cause you can mention. Recently we raised thousands for the young girl Isla Caton who was suffering with a rare form of cancer and whose family were all die-hard West Ham fans, while our contribution to Help for Heroes annually is immense. I just wish there was more balanced reporting to reflect this.”

Ayse Smith, editor of Millwall fanzine The Lion Roars on the club’s current prospects on and off the pitch

“The Lion Roars magazine is now in its 30th year of publication, and hopefully we will have an amazing season – on and off the pitch – to report on.

“Last season we were one of the favourites to be relegated, which I thought was a bit harsh, and a bit silly really, as newly promoted teams normally do really well in their new league as they are still flying high with momentum from the previous season. Despite that, we exceeded even our own expectations.

“This coming season is going to be tough though. The team is pretty much the same as last year, and although they have united amazingly, expectations are going to be higher, from us fans at least. We are again one of the favourites to be relegated, and I hope this spurs the players on to prove our critics wrong.

“The current progress of the compulsory purchase order (CPO) and redevelopment plans on Millwall’s land is unclear at the moment. The council have not said that they will not apply for a CPO again, and the fact the newly elected mayor Damien Egan and MP Janet Daby were both on the council cabinet and voted in favour of the CPO in the first place, is quite alarming to me.

“Drawing up plans and architects’ fees are hugely expensive, and although Millwall have already paid for these in their bid to redevelop the land themselves, I don’t think they can afford to spend any more on it unless the council gives us the go-ahead to redevelop the land to provide the much-needed homes that Lewisham borough needs.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 232: Giant Bitchslap Arm

Previously on BnHA: Gigantomachia woke up and started ninja-running toward Aichi prefecture. Then all of a sudden we cut to Hawks just chilling on an Osaka rooftop with a bag. Everyone was like, “whoa, Hawks, what are you doing in this arc?” Hawks was all “well I’ll show you” and then he had a flashback where he fucking murdered Best Jeanist, probably, and everyone was like “um, hey, what the actual fuck” and Hawks was like “well you asked” and we were all filled with regret for having done so. Back in the Ol’ Villain City, Twice caught up with Tomura and Spinner and they were very happy to see him, and Tomura was like “so anyway we’re almost at Re-Destro’s tower and I can’t wait to fucking kill that guy” and the others agreed but they also worried that Tomura was too exhausted to keep this up much longer, and so Twice went on ahead to try and finish off RD on his own. The chapter ended up with Twice #241762-D arriving at the top of the tower to confront RD and rescue my boyfriend Giran.

Today on BnHA: Twice creates some clones of Tomura and the gang to help him out. Re-Destro then insta-kills one of the clones and tells Twice that he’ll kill Giran if Twice uses his quirk any more. He then makes his arm go all big and he just fuckin’... [gestures wildly] WHIPASH!! and just smacks them all to death, and then he goes over to where Giran is and gets ready to kill him while he and Twice are having a moment. Thankfully the not-quite-dead-yet Tomura clone intervenes, and as he fights him, Re-Destro launches into a big villain monologue about the Mother of Quirks, a.k.a. the mother of the first superpowered child to ever be born. Long story short, that baby grew up to be Destro, and his mom was all “please be kind to him and let him live in peace!” and so they fucking killed her because people are terrible. As RD is wrapping up his story and about to kill the clone Tomura, the real one reaches the tower and is all, “TOUCH!!!” This is the single most badass thing anyone has ever done, and the chapter ends with a wobbly Tomura confusedly interrogating an enraged Re-Destro while “We Will Rock You” by Queen plays in the background omfg.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added one or two ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

so this happened again

listen here my anonymous friend, thank you for not spoiling me, but I do have to say that if your goal was to have me once again approach this chapter in stark terror, mission accomplished lol

here’s how it’s gonna go. I’ve got a mirror, and we’re gonna use it to cautiously peek around corners before clicking to the next page, and from what I understand that should protect us from being instantly killed by Horikoshi’s murderous basilisk glare. the characters, on the other hand, well...

what kind of sound effect is this

glomp glomp? are these Horikoshi sound effects? does he know his little Twice clones are making enthusiastic hugging sounds?? and yet this is oddly in character though

also it looks like he’s cloning at least one Tomura and Dabi! so that should be fun. we get to see RD presumably murder them all on this little test run, and then they’ll hopefully have a better idea of how to approach this on their second go-around

RD says he had a lot of guards down below, and he’s praising Twice’s quirk. well, his “superpower”, anyway

that was the title of this chapter, incidentally; “quirks and superpowers.” I do vaguely wonder why they’re so insistent on using different terminology for it, and I wonder if there’s an actual reason for that

anyway so now Jin is yelling at the clones that they’re clones. so it’s okay if they die and stuff. lol. I’m sure that makes them feel a whole lot better

you guys this is fucking amazing though

I wonder if this Tomura is less sleep-deprived? also, Twice duplicated the hands as well! that’s something that was pointed out to me a little while ago, back when they were fighting Gigantomachia. this actually seems a bit iffy to me now that we’ve been reminded that he needs to understand the details of something in and out before he can copy it. like, he couldn’t copy the quirk-be-gone bullets because he didn’t know how they worked. but somehow he knows how these hands work though??

or maybe he doesn’t, and these hands don’t actually work like the Real Deal hands. that’s probably the case actually. so anyways I wonder if this Tomura will act a little different. I’m probably overthinking this to the extreme lol

and Twice and Dabi are making the exact same joke I made three paragraphs earlier about “that should make them feel a whole lot better.” get your own material you assclowns

last but not least, lol at him having to reiterate his tale of bravely overcoming past trauma yet again to Compress because he missed the whole story. poor Compress, all confused and out of the loop. I wonder if Twice duplicated his robot arm. it’s hard to tell in the picture whether it’s missing or he’s still just in the process of creating it

oh shit

heh. it’s possible Jin has not thought through the potential long-term consequences of this little undertaking at all sob. but that’s a problem for future Twice! right now current Twice has more important things to deal with, like kicking Re-Destro’s ass

yeah, you see, he’s all “don’t worry about that right now” and presumably tucking that whole notion away someplace in the back of his mind to be properly fucked up by later on. as anyone with ADHD can tell you that’s clearly the best way to deal with all of your problems

-- oh shit and it looks like this particular Twice doesn’t really need to worry about that anymore in any case

what is it with people in this manga being decapitated lately. who hurt you Horikoshi

uh, so. hey

are they?? they fucking outnumber you by a ton. though as you’ve just ably demonstrated, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything

fuck. okay let’s pause this for a sec to get our bearings here. so a bunch of clone Twices have RD cornered with a clone Dabi, Tomura, and Compress, all of whom have their own quirks, but presumably weaker versions of them. they’re also each basically one hit point away from a swift death, which is definitely something to consider

meanwhile RD has just the one of him, but possesses an unknown quirk, and does not seem to be at all fazed by the current situation which is a bit unnerving. oh yeah, and he does still have a hostage, though, if the others insist on taking their sweet time to go and untie my boy Giran. yeah. so that part’s also not good. dammit Twice untie him already

SHIT

MOTHERFUCKING -- OKAY JIN, LISTEN UP, NORMALLY I’D TELL YOU TO CALL HIS BLUFF, BUT A LITTLE MOUSE (ETA: referring to poor dead Miyashita, not the anon from earlier! I only just realized how that could possibly be read as being weirdly passive aggressive or something and that’s not the case! sorry anon!) INFORMED ME THAT THIS GUY DOESN’T ACTUALLY FUCKING PLAY AROUND, THOUGH. I HAVE A FEELING HE CAN AND WILL DO EXACTLY WHAT HE’S PROMISING, SO PLEASE TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY OMG I DON’T WANT YOU TO HAVE ANOTHER FRIEND’S DEATH ON YOUR CONSCIENCE AFTER WHAT HAPPENED WITH MAGNE

sob. where’s that mirror omg

okay... and we’re cautiously clicking forward... and good, Jin looks appropriately shook

maybe a little too shook. look I didn’t mean for you to just immediately freeze and surrender though, guy

aww but Tomura’s reassuring him

yes but as I already explained, you’re all technically one love tap away from the sweet embrace of death here while he’s at full power. it’s iffy dude. idk. I really like that you immediately spoke up to comfort your bro though! the League of Gentle Hearts continues to warm my soul

oh my god but seriously look at them

even Dabi is getting in on the friendship action. even if I’m not quite sure how he intends to not burn Giran to death along with RD lol. but at least his heart’s in the right place

-- oh shit

THEY LOOK SO WORRIED OMG AND LOOK WHERE RE-DESTRO IS STANDING

A COLD FUCKING CHILL JUST WENT DOWN MY SPINE OH GOD NO I’M NOT READY FOR THIS. I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON HIS SEXY GRAY HEAD I WILL WREAK VENGEANCE ON YOU SUCH AS THE WORLD HAS NEVER SEEN, AS SOON AS I’M DONE SOBBING MY FUCKING EYES OUT

SOB I DON’T WANT TO TURN THE PAGE. THE MIRROR ISN’T WORKING. HORIKOSHI IS A SADISTIC FUCK WHO HAS NO QUALMS ABOUT KILLING OFF EVERYONE I LOVE. BEST JEANIST, GIRAN, THE DOG. EVERYONE!!

SOBBB NOOO --

WHAT THE CHRISTING FUCK

OH MY GOD NO PUT IT AWAY!! HORIKOSHI KOUHEI I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T STOP RIGHT NOW!! I MEAN IT YOUNG MAN!!

SOB HE’S DRAWING IT OUT FOR ALL IT’S WORTHHHHHH I CAN’T I’M NOT PLEASE WHY

FUCK YOU AND YOUR COMEDIC INSERTION OF FOUR ADDITIONAL TWICE REACTION PANELS YOU PITILESS BASTARD!!

NOOOOOOOOOOO

THE BASILISK APPROACHES, GIRAN IN ITS SIGHTS!!

OH SHIT

holy -- fucking -- I don’t even

wow

well that all went down fucking spectacularly

looooool. okay, time to move on to plan B guys. bring on the indestructible mountain man. let Tomura have his “I have an army!” / “we have a Hulk” moment

so is Giran even still alive, or did he get caught up in all of that. lol I’m just fooling. of course he’s still alive, Horikoshi is going to drag out my torture for this entire arc and make it really slow and excruciating

yeah whatever. they have a hulk. just you wait

and some of the dying Twices are glomping over to Giran to make sure he’s okay, naturally. because my feels were briefly spared for a single fucking panel and we can’t have that, no ma’am!

HAHAHA WHY

THESE FEELS, MY GOD. WHATEVER!! JUST LEAVE ME HERE TO DIE THEN!!

JESUS CHRIST, HERE I WAS SHIPPING TOGAWICE LIKE ANYTHING, AND THEN HORIKOSHI COMES ALONG ALL “BUT ARE YOU SURE YOU WEREN’T ACTUALLY SHIPPING GIRANTWICE THIS WHOLE TIME” AND FUCK ME, HE’S FUCKING RIGHT

GIRAN IS SMILING SO SOFTLY MOMENTS BEFORE HIS LIKELY DEATH, AND I’M ABOUT TO PERISH IN A TYPHOON OF EMOTION. GIRAN IF I COULD LEAP IN THERE AND TAKE THE BLOW FOR YOU I WOULD

YOU GUYS HERE IT COMES. IT’S BEEN NICE KNOWING YOU ALL. LET’S ALL HOLD HANDS AND WAIT IN HELPLESS TERROR LIKE IN TOY STORY 3

and Twice makes sure Giran’s not alone at the end though. god I’m about to lose it for real though, shit

-- !!!!!!!!!!

(ETA: lmao I love that it’s making a “TCH” sound. like that hand is so done with his bullshit.)

what THE FUCK TOMURA ARE YOU SERIOUS?!! I WAS ALL SET TO GO ALL “OH HAPPY DAGGER” HERE AND THEN YOU TURN UP TO SAVE THE DAY WHAT IS HAPPENING

WHAT IS THIS CRAZY ADRENALINE RUSH AHAHA. DON’T BE FOOLED, THAT IS RALPH WIGGUM “I’M IN DANGER!” LAUGHTER THOUGH

but wow, so yeah. feels postponed. fucking deferred, motherfucker. FIRST WE GET OUR FIGHT ON

oh hey! funny you should mention! cuz it’s just that he’s been trying to prove said worth for the last six weeks! so if you could provide some convenient way for him to actually do that, that would actually be great. Machia is a harder sell than Simon fucking Cowell, so

oh, he’s still talking

actually this is super interesting to me omg. also that’s really fucked up. poor Damien! he didn’t do anything! all he did was glow a bit, what is wrong with people

(ETA: I have been informed by many kind people that Destro is not in fact the glowy baby Damien from China lol. I got kinda mixed up there lol.)

probably cuz they killed her

yep

yeah that seemed to be where that was leading. society is predictably fucked up, etc. that poor lady

this has nothing to do with anything, but I just want to throw it out there that I would kill to read an AU with the 1-A kids set in this time period roughly 200 years earlier where they have to hide their quirks for fear of being killed over them, and they’re all just doing their best and growing up scared and traumatized and some of them are bitter at the world and others are hopeful of one day making it a better place. oh my god. “makeste, that’s just an X-Men AU” you point out and oh my god you’re right. that means it probably already exists oh shit. I need to go on another fic binge

anyway

Tomura is all “yeah I know history too” and making me feel bad. some of us didn’t grow up in this universe, Tomura

Tomura just let the man talk, I need more worldbuilding stuff for my AU headcanons

you’d think that the Army would be embracing the word “quirks”, then? this woman seems like the type of martyr figure they ought to be all over. I guess there’s more to the story and I should take my own advice and shut up and let him finish

oh

I see, so they associate the government’s use of the word “quirk” with their oppression. idk, I feel like they ought to be trying to reclaim it then. but whatever

so he’s wrapping up now

oh!!

his mother?!

DESTRO WAS THE SON OF THE MOTHER OF QUIRKS? DESTRO WAS DAMIEN?!  holy shit!!

so that means RD is descended from the original quirk bloodline! yooooo I did not see that coming at all. no wonder the rest of the Army reveres him

anyway but now the interesting part is over and he’s moving on to crazed ranting

whatever you say buddy. how did you wind up with Giant Bitchslap Arm powers if your great-great-granddad was just some dumb glowing kid though

oh now he’s getting all pompous

I’m sorry I didn’t realize having a long and tragic family history was a prerequisite for kicking ass. though if it is. may I interest you in the horrific saga of the Shimura family, though. this so-called street punk has quite his own tale of woe actually

oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

(⚆_⚆) [sits up straighter]

AHHHH THEY’RE SAVING HIM!!

YOU GO LEAGUE!! YOU GOT THIS!!

AHHHHHHH

!!!!! THEN TELL HIM TO SUIT UP

oh shit wait I think he might be talking about Actual Tomura and not Gigantomachia! even better!!

OH HEY THAT’S A NICE TOWER YOU HAVE THERE. IT SURE WOULD BE A SHAME IF SOMEONE... PATTED IT GENTLY

LOOOOOOOOOOL YESSSSSSSSSSSS

(❛ӧ❛三❛ӧ❛)

YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!

LMAO HE’S ACTUALLY BARELY KEEPING IT TOGETHER THOUGH AND IT’S THE BEST. “WAIT... YOU’RE THE GUY... BUT SHOULDN’T YOU BE... BUT WAIT WEREN’T YOU IN...?”

SO NOW IT’S ON BOTH EYES, EH? GOING FULL RORSCHACH UP IN THIS BITCH. WELL WHATEVER. I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW I’M HIGH ON THE ADRENALINE OF HAVING HAD THE FEAR OF GOD PUT INTO ME AND BEING RESIGNED TO ANOTHER CHAPTER OF HEADS BEING REMOVED FROM WHERE THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO BE, ONLY FOR HORIKOSHI TO BE ALL “PSYCH!! I STILL LOVE YOU!” AND HAVE MR. RIGHTFUL HEIR COME UP AND FUCK UP RD’S SHIT OMG. AND I STILL SHIP GIRANTWICE!! AND GIRAN’S STILL ALIVE SOMEHOW AGAINST ALL ODDS OH MY GOODNESS

ohhhhh man. well, time to place your bets then people. who would win:

one megalomaniacal balding CEO with a giant arm who talks too much but has like an army and shit

One Sleepy Boi

hahaha. well, Tomura? time to get that worth fucking measured, then, kid