#dabi: hero third

[incorrect-league-of-villains]

Tomura: I sleep with a gun under my pillow.

Toga: I sleep with a knife.

Dabi: Both of you are pathetic.

Tomura: Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?

Dabi: Hawks.

[sinnamonpork]

shigadabihawks au i dreamed of where Dabi and Hawks after months of endless sexual tension and lots of goading, the two are finally about to do the horizontal tango. The only problem is that they both come to the awkward realization after a few minutes of making out. They are both, without a doubt, bottoms. Ofc ofc they still try to make it work and everything but none of them really enjoys it and they went to bed fuming with anger (and a very disappointed hard on).

Enter Shigaraki. The two idiots are sulking at breakfast when the villain leader comes in after probably another sleepless night, wearing nothing but a tank top. Post plf Shiggy that suddenly got all buff with a stare that could kill, an even sharper tongue that only needs to utter a word for all the plf members to get in line. Stark white hair artfully disheveled, with veiny hands reaching up to ruffle said mop of hair, leading to his top riding up. If anyone saw how Hawks eyes immediately pinned on the small sliver of skin while Dabi chokes on his sausage, no one would know. Dabihawks only needed a second of eye contact to cement their decision.

They'll get their pretty leader into bed if it's the last thing they do or either die of blue balls. There's no other way for the both of them.

[magicianenthusiast]

au where everything is the exact same but tomura and dabi dress like this

based off this post

[buttercupshands]

can you guess what my favorite arc and characters are

basically I just liked how 24-25 looked close to localized versions... this got out of hand quicker than I thought!

I almost forgot about this one so a small treat for opening to see more

[withclawandvine]

for the chinese new year & for bill berkson, frank o'hara / my hero academia, ch. 350

[baby-tini]

Reader sees Dabi in an alley by accident and tries to get away quietly but Dabi sees her and brings her into the alley. He has her up the wall with a hand firmly around her neck but not chocking her but enough to threaten her. He asks for her personal info and takes pictures of her for reference just in case anything happens. And he looks at her more closely and he's like wow she's always more pretty. So he thinks for a bit and makes a deal you get out in one piece if you let me fuck you. The reader already knew he was giving her a false sense of choice so she agrees. Dabi likes her submissiveness so he gave her the choice of the location to fuck. And while she is thinking Dabi is already so handsy with her. Kissing her neck and running his hands up and down her body. He's like 'if you don't pick quick im fucking you here in the alley'. And she eventually picks a love hotel not too far from them. Once they were done fucking it's the next morning and Dabi is gone but she checks her phone messages and there's a lot of photos and videos of them together in different positions and a note at the end

See you next time Doll~

💙Dabi

(the blackmail really gets me fr😭)

TW: DUBCON, blackmail, noncon pictures and video taking, a hint of coercion. Work was always so boring, you wanted something fun. There was nothing fun about serving drunk men alcohol as they thanked you with raunchy comments. Trying to grope you while you were just doing your job. Complaining about their "bitch wife" in a drunken slur then passing out. The money was good though.. and your co-workers weren't awful. But that really didn't mean anything in the end.

It was too much, you just needed a cigarette and then you could finish your shift then go home and sleep the rest of the night away. It was warm outside, pretty too. Sky full of different shades of blue, no clouds in sight. It was quiet surprisingly, considering you weren't in the best part of town. The attacks from the League of Villains ramping up by tenfold, charred bodies appearing in multitudes. Consumed by beautiful azul flames licking away at ash. Some were lucky though, if you could even call it that, some people were burned so bad they were disfigured, leaving ugly third degree burns on their face and arms. Hopefully they weren't in this part of the city yet.

But then again, the heros were on their ass.. so it's possible. Leaning your head back against the wall, you sigh out, closing your eyes for a couple seconds before you hear footsteps. Your eyes snap open as your head snaps to the sound. There's a man in a black tattered coat, he looks exhausted. Purple burnt skin attached to healthy skin by staples. Tattered clothes with mangy boots.

Holy shit, it can't be... they shouldn't be in this part of the city, not this soon anyway. You have too get out, now. You try to be quiet, you really do, but you can't be quiet wearing heels. You mistook a step, catching the eye of the assailant. His piercing blue eyes shoot up towards you, a sick grin crawling up on his lips. As he walks closer, stumbling back you trip over your heels. He chuckles at you, grabbing your arms too lift you up, "easy there doll, what's your problem, hm? You scared?" You swallow down the dry air, shaking your head at him as you try to shake off his grip. But his hold on you just tightens, reminds you of a boa constrictor, trying too keep his prey at bay.

He presses you into the wall with an-unassuming amount of strength, pressing into you as he leans down towards your ear. "Where you goin, doll? I'm not gonna hurt you... if you comply that is." Squeezing your eyes shut, you nod into his chest, trying too control your breathing. You inhale deeply before stuttering out a response. "What did you, uh.. what did you want from me..?" There's a sniffle between your words.

"Mmm, yeah, need something real bad baby, think you can help me, hm?" You swallow down your spit, hesitantly nodding at him. "I- uh... I think, what did you need Sir.." He chuckles at that, running his nose up and down your cheek, inhaling deeply into your hair. "Sir, huh? You into that dolly?" You feel your fingers twitch against his tattered coat as you shake your head at him.

"N-no.. I just- I don't know your name..so," he leans back at that. Eyeing you up and down he grins, "that's cute baby, you really don't know who I am? That makes me a little sad honestly, but it's Dabi... I like Sir much better though, what do you think?" You swallow again, your right hand rubbing up and down your left arm, as your eyes look to the side. Rolling his eyes, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. "Nah ah, don't look away from me, I'm not done talking to you bitch." Licking your lips, you swallow before looking up at him again. "There you go, you gonna behave for? Gonna help me with my... big problem babydoll, hm? Say, "Yes Sir." Your left hand twitches before you nod up at him, "Yes Sir, i'll help you with your... big problem." He hums at you before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and smirking at you. "I knew you would, you're so good, huh? Gonna let you pick the location cause' you're being so sweet for me... go 'head." You sniffle before licking your lips and nodding again. He hums, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip. "I wanna... can we go to the love hotel.. it's only a couple blocks away.. I want my first time to be.. a little special." He grins, pulling you towards his side with an arm wrapped around you. "Ahh, little slut's a virgin, wouldn't 've guessed." You try to shuffle away at that but he just tightens his hold around you. "C'mon baby, I was just joking, I'll behave from now on, promise," he snickers. It take's a minute to get there, with Dabi trying to get there as quickly as possible... his problem continuously growing as you walk with him. The hotel is pretty run down, smelling of weed and sex. The painting is peeling from the walls as women and men alike are staggering around and theirs people making out just outside the hotel, grinding and sliding their hands down the others clothes. "This is where you wanted your special moment?" He raises an eyebrow at you as he throws a wad of bills on the check-in desk. You huff at him, "it's better then some sleazy alleyway, surrounded by heroin needles." You retort, grabbing the key from him and walking to the room. He follows closely behind not failing to be as touchy as possible while you open the door. He ushers you into the room as he pins you against the wall and getting to work marking up your neck.

You try to slow your heart rate as your hands ball in his shirt, with a hiss he grinds his cock into your thigh. Nipping at your collar bone and running his tongue over your jugular as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him more access as you run your hands up his shirt. He chuckles into your neck, pulling your shirt over your head and sucking your nipples through your bra. He laughs against your chest when you let out a choked whimper, clawing at his stomach. He huffs before snapping your bra from the back and sucking nipple and playing with the other, pinching it and leaving hickeys between your tits. He grabs you by your hair, pulling you towards the bed and throwing on it face first. Your breasts flat against the rough-feeling mattress, as you try to get up, he pushes you back against it, a hand holding pressed into the curve of your lower back. "Nah ah, fucking stay.. don't need you IDing me now princess." You breathe out softly and nod into the sheets, your body relaxing against the bed while he pulls your pants and panties down, letting them fall to your ankles. You hear him groan from behind you, he runs a warm hand over your ass before slapping it a couple times and chucking when you squeeze your legs shut. "Dirty little bitch, you want it real bad, yeah? Yeah you fuckin' do, say please and I might fuck you with the tip bitch." You whine into the sheets, salty tears leaking down your cheeks and staining the sheets. He chuckles, taking a hand and pushing your head down into the mattress as his other hand unzips and takes off his pants, his boxers being pulled down in the process, he spreads your pussylips apart before leaning down and spitting on your clit, before fucking his tip into your cunt and groaning when he feels you tighten around him. Your pussy feels so good, warm and tight, just how he likes it. He fucks into you harder, using a hand to stabilize himself next to your head as he fucks into you harder. He's so big, you can feel him in your stomach, it hurts a little, stretching so wide to accommodate him as he growls in your ear. You're so deep into it, your head so fogged up that you don't hear the camera shutters or feel him spread you wide as he films the two of you locked together. He fucks you good, you'll give him that, you don't remember passing out as he fucked into you, waking up to your familiar ringtone of your phone as you sit up, breasts spilling over the blanket as you lean towards the bedside table... 'Dabi' left you a text, "I had a fun night doll, I know you did too.. or else you wouldn't 've passed out on my cock, It was good wasn't it, I know it was, don't worry you can tell me in person when I come see you again. You're the best pussy I've had in a while if I'm being honest. Pretty wet pussy too, It's like a hug for my dick, if you will lol. Also, don't even think about trying to get away .. unless you want these getting leaked to your boss and family pretty baby." A couple seconds later six pictures and four videos pop up. Now it all makes sense... he wasn't worried about being Ided, you had already seen his face, plue he gave you his name... you're screwed literally.

[fatkish]

Todoroki boys x Cow Hybrid Reader

Hybrid AU

In this AU, Enji wasn’t an abusive father, instead of being a hero in this world, Enji is the proud owner of Endeavor Farms. His farm is home to Hybrids that he breeds and sells. He’s trained each of his sons on how to handle the hybrids and how to care for them. The farm sells milk, wool, produce, etc. Enji had heard of a mistreated and very skittish cow hybrid that was rescued from an underground hybrid ring. These rings are notorious for either being a sex ring that makes money off of people’s kinks or fetishes using hybrids or for being fighting rings where hybrids are made to fight each other and people bet on them. Enji decided that this would be a perfect first hybrid for his sons to experience. So he brought the hybrid to his farm and put them in the barn in their own stall.

Enji:

Despite his intimidating demeanor and appearance he’s actually very kind and gentle with his hybrids and animals

He treats them all nicely since happy animals means better produce

He’s tall and muscular so you thought he was some kind of hybrid, especially since he smelled like them but since it was nighttime when you arrived at his farm, you couldn’t tell

He checked your hooves and made sure to trim them since he has the most experience with it

Surprisingly he’s one of the first people you were comfortable around

He prefers the machines since it’s a faster milking process but he’s not opposed to milking by hand

Touya/Dabi:

He teases you

He was the last person who you let milk you

You learned to trust him when he saved you from coyotes one night. They had somehow gotten past the dogs that protected the farm and were about to attack you when Touya got in between you and them. Seeing him get bit by them, you charged the coyotes and drove them away

You both were bitten and had several scratches but you didn’t care, you wanted to make sure Touya was safe

Touya doesn’t have a preference but does enjoy the noises you make when the machine milks you

Natsuo:

Natsuo had gone to medical school to learn how to treat hybrids and became a licensed doctor for hybrids

He gives check ups on all the hybrids and animals

He gave you a check up when you got to the farm, making sure you were healthy and that you didn’t have any underlying health issues or conditions

He was the third person you trusted

He’s very gentle and is kind of a clown

He’s constantly making jokes since that’s how he learned to help his patients nervousness

He’s pretty funny

He doesn’t have a preference when it comes to milking by hand or using the machine, whichever one you’re more comfortable with is what he uses

Shoto:

He was the second person you were comfortable around

Since he’s still rather young, you tend to view him more as a child or a smaller animal

His aloof personality is what makes you feel safe around him

He was the first person who was able to milk you since you’re a dairy cow

He often takes walks around the farm with you

He sometimes takes naps in the barn with the animals. Since you’re more comfortable around animals than humans, you stuck with the cows on the farm. When you saw how comfortable they were with him and how they trusted him, you decided he was trustworthy too

He spoils you the most, he gives you treats more often than anyone else

He prefers to milk you by hand instead of using the machines

[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Amajiki Tamaki

A/n: so sorry this took so long! I had a good thing going but my power went out and it got erased </3

I do think this one's better though. Technically this is the third legitimate try <33

Edit: I'm trying out a new format for my info.. is it better or worse O.o

General info:

Wc: 1,176 words | angst to fluff/comfort | Character/s: Tamaki Amajiki

Warnings!: loneliness, snapping, flinching, a little bit of crying. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

The night was cold as you sleepily flipped through your journal, not wanting to write but knowing you should. The entries from the last three months have been short and filled with a dull ache of lonliness. They lacked the usual length and warmth you poured into the pages, ranting on about how sweet your timid Tamaki is and how much you adore him and his ever lasting warmth.

The rambling would go on and on, but now you wrote a paragraph or two about how your life has been 'fine' and that Tamaki has been super busy- if you wrote at all.

There was one or two that held multiple paragraphs of your frustration and not knowing who to blame- knowing that it wasn't Tamaki's fault that there weren't enough heroes to protect the innocent of your large city.

Tamaki was doing his best to protect the defenseless, and you admired that- but the dull ache that sat in the pit of your stomache couldn't go ignored much longer.

Sighing, you closed your journal, standing up from your desk to head to the living room, deciding to talk to Tamaki tonight.

~~

Four hours later Tamaki walked through the front door, tall form drained from exhaustion as he made his way inside, already stripping off his hero gear.

"Tama?" You call, poking your head out from the living room to sadly smile at your Tamaki.

"Oh. Hey y/n." Tamaki yawned, dropping both his cape and mask onto the floor as he dragged his feet towards your room, tossing his belt onto the kitchen table before moving onto taking off his gear further.

"Wait, Tamaki!" You call, stopping at the bottom of the stairs as Tamaki paused, looking back at you.

"Yes bunny?"

"Ummm.. can we talk?" You ask, smiling at the nickname Tamaki gave you the first week into your marriage- though he later admitted that he thought of it when you two were simply friends but was too shy up until that point-.

"Baby, I'm really tired.. is it important?"

"Yes.. it'll only take five to ten mintues."

"Okay baby, where do you want to talk?" Tamaki yawned.

"How about the living room? I can give you a shoulder massage while we talk if you like." You smile, causing Tamaki's eyes to shine as he smiled down at you.

"I'd like that."

~

After you were both situated you started by squirting some lotion on your hands before spreading it onto Tamaki's left shoulder, immediately noticing his many knots.

"Okay bunny, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh.. so I know that you're working really hard and are really tired.. and I also know that we haven't had us time in a while.. so I was wondering if you could take a day or two off? Not much, just a day or two would be fine."

Tamaki was silent as you bit your lip in anticipation, hoping you didn't upset him somehow.

"Y/n.. are you serious?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you know how many people might be dying right now? I can't just laze about spending time with you because you're feeling lonely. Why don't you go hang out with some friends?"

"T-that's not the same.."

"How so?"

"I want to spend time with you Tamaki. You know, my husband?" You scoff, starting to get annoyed.

"And I want to spend time saving people y/n, why don't you stop being sensitve and start thinking about other people?"

"But I've been holding my feelings back for months! Please! I'm just asking for a day- even a few hours is fine!"

"Y/n. No. Now if you're done I'd like to get to bed."

Jerking his shoulder away from your touch, Tamaki started standing up.

"But wait Tama-"

"No. I'm disappointed in your selfishness y/n."

"Wai-"

"Stop."

"Pl-"

"I said stop!" Tamaki hissed, turning around to face you within a second.

At the sudden movement and change of tone you flinched back, tears gathering in your eyes as you stared up at Tamaki, eyes wide.

As Tamaki glared down at you he froze as you flinched, heart immediately breaking as he saw the tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Y-y-y/n I-"

"I-it's okay Tamaki.. you don't need to say anything. I get it. I-I'll just go to bed now."

"B-but y-y/n.." Tamaki whimpered, guilt consuming him as he watched you walk away.

"Y-y/n.. I'm sorry.."

~

You quickly got in bed after hurrying up the stairs, wiping at your eyes as you clung to your pillow, staying as far away from Tamaki's side as possible.

~~

You awoke the next morning to the sun shining in your eyes.

Wincing, you turned around to feel for Tamaki, forgetting all about last night and the dreadful few months.

After feeling how cold Tamaki's side of the bed you sighed, memories coming to you in flashes as you stared at his side of the bed.

Wiping away the stray tears, you got out to get ready for a day worse than the one yesterday.

After getting dressed you made your way down stairs, deciding to get on top of your piling to-do list to help get your mind off of Tamaki.

Stepping into the kitchen, you stepped back at the sight of a lavish breakfast filled with all of your favorites spread across the newly cleaned kitchen table.

"T-Tamaki.." you whimper, looking at your beloved with tearful eyes as he guilty studied you with his indigo orbs.

"Y-y/n I-"

You interrupted Tamaki as you rushed into his arms, clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for comfort from the man you've grown to adore.

"Y/n I- I'm so so sorry." Tamaki mumbled, burying his face into your hair to mask the tears falling from his eyes.

"I forgive you Tamaki, I know you were just over worked and didn't mean to take it out on me."

"I promise you- I really didn't me an to, a-and I feel terrible about it."

"Shhh it's okay baby.. I already forgave you. We just need to reflect on what we did wrong tonight and make sure not to do it in the future. Next time, I'll wait until you're less exhausted, and you'll make sure to remind me that you're too tired, mkay?"

"O-okay.."

"Now baby.. why are you home? Don't you have work?"

"Nope, I took the next two weeks and a half off. I know that it won't make up for the months of loneliness, but I'll try to be better, I"ll take less shifts and make sure to only leave for emergencies when I'm off the clock.

"Alright, that's a good start."

"I may need today and possibly tomorrow to sleep.. but I cleaned the entire house -besides our room- and looked at your to- do list and did a few of the bigger things on there.. oh and I made us breakfast.."

"Tamaki. I love you. So, so much."

"I love you too bunny. I'm really rea-"

"Shh, I already said I forgive you. Now, let's eat!"

~~~

Series' masterlist | Tamaki's masterlist | Navigation

Tips <3

Reblogs help spread and support my work, therefore they help me immensely but any support is appreciated <33

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way minus reblogging.

[super-paper]

"Thank you for such wonderful comedy."

I've been wanting to talk about how MHA plays with the concepts of "fiction vs reality, the characters vs the actor, the world vs the stage" for awhile now, bc I believe understanding how MHA utilizes these concepts is pretty crucial to understanding our Big Bad (and Tomura!) (...and Izuku!) (.. etc!) (y-yeah...!!!) (wooo.....!!!!!)

If this post is more incoherent than usual, I apologize-- I'm just really enthusiastic about stories that play with the fact that they're stories and characters who throw themselves into a fictionalized role as a means of coping. I love the way MHA handles these concepts in particular, so I lost all sense of restraint as usual.

Hori: "I'm Like Dropping Hints That Hero/Villain Personas Are Actually Coping Mechanisms Lol"

"As Tomura Shigaraki and Tenko Shimura, I've got just one wish: the total destruction of everything that created that house." "If my origin as Touya and Dabi was such a simple thing, then... No, there are still things I want to say. Arguments I want to have."

I've seen a few ppl saying that it sounds awkward/strange to have the characters repeatedly asserting themselves in the third person, but imo, the emphasis on real names versus hero/villain names during these particular scenes plays into the idea of the villain/hero identities being "alter egos" that might not actually have the same core desires as the """"actors"""" that are behind these personas.

Tomura and Touya invoke both their real and villain names while asserting their respective wishes. Himiko also invokes her villain name, though it's less obvious to english speakers because she uses her real name as her villain name (in the raws, "HIMIKO TOGA" as a villain name is written using katakana-- and this is what she uses when asserting her wish). MHA plays with the idea of "fiction"/"Alter Egos" as a form of escapism and as a coping method, and at this point in time, the Dabi/Tomura/"Himiko" identities are still being utilized as a crutch/mask by these three very hurt individuals.

*loud, terrifying chanting* PEAK FICTION PEAK FICTION PE--

Ochako's fight being like the second most thematically important fight in the whole series still makes me unreasonably giddy btw.

To contrast, Ochako uses her civilian name alone when asserting her wish-- and imo we're meant to read this as Ochako wanting to save Himiko as herself, not as Uravity. Saving Himiko is not something she can accomplish as her alter-ego-- Ochako is able to save Himiko by stepping off the stage and becoming a "real" person, while also acknowledging the person behind "Toga Himiko (villain name)".

Izuku hasn't had his "I'm Izuku Midoriya"/"I'm-saving-you-as-Izuku-not-as-Deku" moment yet-- instead, we see Tomura intentionally making that distinction between the-hero-and-the-true-self by constantly referring to Izuku by his real, full name. And I'm pr sure Izuku is also the only one he does this to-- we see him referring to all the other heroes he encounters by their hero names alone, or by insulting nicknames (l-lol). Correct me if I'm wrong, tho!

(side note: Tomura switching to calling Izuku just "Hero" in the aftermath of Bakugate is actually a big step backwards imo-- it reads as Tomura trying to push Izuku away by shoving them both back in the hero/villain box and doubling down on enforcing their respective "roles." Not that I ever expected mister doomdere to make things easy, but, woof. Good Fuckin' Luck, Izuku ( ´･ω･) )

TL;DR The final arc has mostly been about tearing off the hero/villain masks to reveal who is hiding underneath— MHA's careful use of names and monikers plays heavily into that and its distinction between "alter-ego"/"true self" a lot. Which is... probably one of the many reasons why All For One still doesn't have a given name, as someone who has all but completely lost himself in his character.

Anyway! That brings us to the meat of this post: how does MHA take the concepts of "reality vs fiction" and "the character vs. the actor" and apply it to All For One (...and Tomura) (and Izuku--)?

"Pay No Attention to That Man Behind the Curtain!"

"If you refuse to submit, then I'll just rewrite the story." - it's amazing how all of this coulda been avoided if someone had just introduced AFO to Demon Lord x Reader fanfiction. (/j)

AFO fancies himself as the author of MHA's greatest tragedy (the desecration of Shimura Nana's legacy via the sacrifice of Shimura Tenko), while simultaneously inserting himself into its overarching narrative and treating himself as the leading villain of the story-- it's self-indulgent and intentionally invasive in the way that most self-insert fanfiction tends to be invasive, with him going to extremes to make it seem as though the whole story revolves around him. AFO wants to be both the author and the leading character and the leading antagonist. This greed is typical of him, but it also establishes him as a character who's more caught up in (read: trapped by) his relationship to "fiction" than anyone else. Again, MHA explores the use of fiction and alter-egos as an escape from a painful reality-- so, it's entirely reasonable to assume that this applies to AFO as well.

To me, so much about AFO reads as an escapist fantasy of someone who is utterly terrified of being put in a position where he is truly seen. The idea of being vulnerable, of being naked, of being "human," is intolerable to him. But by not allowing himself to feel and "be a human," he has effectively cut himself off from what he wants most. The character of “Shigaraki Tomura” is as much an escapist fantasy for AFO as it is Tenko-- It's just another (younger, prettier) layer of skin he can hide his true self in.

"so basically you're saying that AFO is a never nude" yes, actually :)

AFO dehumanizes Tomura through his attempts to turn the boy into his personal comic book character, but he also dehumanizes himself by desperately trying to insert himself into that “character." It's only fitting that Tomura’s innate humanity and capacity for feeling ends up rendering AFO himself painfully, painfully human-- and ultimately causes AFO's carefully constructed character to start crumbling.

If All the World’s a Stage, Then Let’s Destroy the Stage

"That stage is gone now. The theater's knocked down. How much longer can we afford to be spectators on the sideline?" "Once upon a time, a man named All Might showed all of us how to be a hero. But somewhere along the way, people forgot about the heart and soul that made the man." -MHA, Chapter 325

Tomura is attempting to destroy the stage, because without the stage there can be no "Shigaraki Tomura" (Or "All Might," or "All For One," or "Endeavor," etc etc etc). Without the stage, there are no more "characters" and no more tragedies. But-- without the stage, there are no more stories period. There are no more tragedies, but there are no more happy endings either. The world never recognizes the actor behind "Shigaraki Tomura" without the stage. The stage is not inherently a bad thing, so long as people can remember that the actors on the stage still exist outside of it.

But Tomura himself cannot imagine what happens after the curtains fall, and all that's left is Shimura Tenko. He is stuck in a role that was written entirely for someone else, but remains convinced that the role was always his and that the role defines him.

Tomura rebels against the story the only way he knows how--against an "author" who *LITERALLY* views him as a spicier self insert, and against a "setting" that treats his death as a happy ending-- but even so, Tomura still can't picture an ending that doesn't end in tragedy. His rebellion is not about him trying to wring a happy ending out of a miserable, mean-spirited book-- it's about burning the whole damn library down so he never feels let down or hurt by a story again.

Basically: Tomura cannot act outside the confines of his "character" in a way that will truly save him. Even as he rebels, he's rebelling in a way that is painfully consistent with the way his "character" is written-- and that's why AFO (the author) still poses such an enormous threat to him. Destruction cannot save him from this story when he was explicitly penned to destroy.

The only way to break this narrative is to act in a way "the author" doesn't expect, and to tap into all the traits that AFO desperately attempted to "write out" of him-- Shimura Tenko is someone who has always rebelled against his writing, his author, and the unfairness of this story with his kindness and his willingness to accept those that no one else will.

AFO cuts off Tenko's own power at the root by reinforcing Tomura's belief that the world will always inherently reject him, without fail, always and forever-- so he should just reject the world, too (and I've talked at length about this before, but this is why a story that ends with Tomura dying or locked away from society is an ending that fails in its goal to save Tomura). The more Shigaraki Tomura rejects everything and the more Shigaraki Tomura is rejected by everything, the more he distances himself from his root and the source of his power-- and the more Shimura Tenko gets lost in this character.

While AFO is terrified of someone seeing behind his mask, Tomura longs for it. Tenko has been there since the beginning and has been begging for someone to finally see and acknowledge him (both in-universe and out of universe).

"I’ll Be There, Changing Fate by Your Side."

AFO: "Blah Blah Blah Do you still believe myths can save you? Foolish creature. Let me be clear: every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered yadda yadda yadda :) :) :)" ENTER, MIDORIYA IZUKU WITH A STEEL CHAIR.

Izuku's role is that of a completely average boy who gets pulled into a narrative ''that wasn't for him"-- he has no heroic lineage, no hidden powers, and no connection to the centuries old conflict that drives the plot. He's just a boy who did the right thing at the right time and was rewarded for it. Izuku is someone who was "never supposed to be a hero" the same way Tenko was "never supposed to be a villain" per the "rules" of their world-- and Izuku, like Tomura, is someone who exists to destroy those rules and the expectations of their narrative, completely changing the ending.

But rather than burning the book and ending the story forever (like Tomura wants to do), Izuku believes that the story and characters can still be salvaged. There's always something worth saving. It doesn't have to be a tragedy, they can still change the ending. They can talk specifics after Tomura's crazy ass puts the lighter down.

Izuku, like Tomura and so many other characters, throws himself into an alter-ego in an attempt to redefine himself and escape from pain ("Nobody's been saved yet. Don't be the worthless old Deku who can't save anyone" 😬). He almost loses himself in the role of "OFA's torch bearer" the way All Might did-- but just as Izuku managed to find Toshinori Yagi and helped in convincing him that his life as Toshinori has meaning, Izuku ends up getting saved by his friends who couldn't care less about OFA's ~protagonist power~ and know that Izuku is just a goofy, awkward, human boy who needs help.

Like.... If we explore quirklessness as like... a narrative stand-in for characters that the story typically views or dismisses as irrelevant extras/npcs, then AFO's barely restrained anger at Izuku and Toshi (and possibly Yoichi if we're being honest) for daring to ''act beyond their roles'' becomes even funnier. AFO can't stand the idea of his power/the protagonist role being passed on to someone who seems so utterly unworthy, unremarkable, and plain. He can't stand the idea of someone without a quirk/"role" standing up to him, the leading character. Dude really is a toxic comic book fan to the core.

afo really said "I didn't like how things were going so I stopped reading and just wrote a better ending to the story :^)" like...... @mhareddit that's u buddy...........................;

Anyway...........!!!!! AFO is someone who cherry picks what he likes about a story while ignoring the actual intent/message of the work (#theabsolutestateofthemhafandom), but he has no intention of breaking down the dichotomy between heroes/villains and instead actively enforces it (.............#theabsolutestateofthemhafan--). He just wants to flip what side wins in the end.

Tomura wants to break the narrative because he sees that as the only way to escape from his pain (but in doing so, he permanently cuts himself off from being a part of a story with a happy ending). He wants to destroy the dichotomy between heroes and villains because heroes and villains "will never understand each other and never stop creating each other" (lol. lmao, even).

Izuku wants to break the narrative because he's realized that there's something more to this story than your standard "Hero versus Villain," "good vs evil" affair and that he cannot explore what lies behind those masks and labels without tearing them down, first.

These three work together well as a narrative set of Fucking Nerds, and AFO works well as both Tomura and Izuku's villain for all of the above reasons (& also bc he's the only one who is actually benefitting from their current society) ((which basically offers him an endless buffet of hurt and angry children he can exploit on a silver platter)).

Anyway! Kick his ass, Izuku.

[itsnothingofinterest]

So 414 thoughts:

it seems the quirk transfer is working roughly as intended and is causing Deku's to see Tomura's memories and mix them with his own.

On the one hand, this is really cool. We're getting to see all these memorable scenes and compare them; for example, the scenes we got seem to be of when Deku or Shigaraki met or truly started to get to know someone. Perhaps you could even say it was when each gave hope to someone who didn't have much of that; Deku by telling Shoto he's not just some an extension of his father, and Tomura by giving Toga, Dabi, & especially Spinner a goal they could strive for.

But on the other hand, I worry this could go beyond just "viewing" memories. It's also possible Deku could start influencing Shigaraki's recollection of events to make him more agreeable (for example, I saw someone suggest this could end with Deku saving Tenko from under the bridge instead of AFO) and I wouldn't be a fan of that. Didn't like when 2 out of 3 of our last League conflicts relied on mentally impairing them & I wouldn't like it any more if it was how Deku resolved the conflict here.

But on yet a third hand; it's possible if we went that way, the reverse could also happen. This connection seems pretty two-sided, so Deku could start mixing his recollection of events with Tomura's; resulting in, idk, wondering why he's beating up his good friend Muscular, or seeing himself beat fused Overhaul into the ground and then destroying his arms in revenge. (And it'd be so funny if we finally got a flashback of Deku's dad only for him to be replaced with Kotaro or Kurogiri.) Oh, or a potentially big one: going to save Bakugou from the slime villain only for everyone to pass them by on the street waiting for some hero to come by and handle it for hours or even days until they make their way to the underside of Tenko's bridge. (Bonus points if he's gotten rid of all the vestiges by then, so he experiences the whole thing alone like Tenko did.)

I absolutely don't want Deku to beat Tomura by just messing with his head. But if he could get his own head messed with in turn, see what Tomura saw & experience what Tomura experienced to gain a deeper understanding of his viewpoints, while the effect on Tomura is limited to similarly seeing Deku's viewpoints? Well that would be an entirely different matter that'd actually be super interesting & promising.

This memory mixing has only just started up for a few pages, so we can't say where or how far it'll go. But it's already given us some nice League crumbs, so I want to be hopeful that this could lead somewhere really good.

[pocketramblr]

How abt a crack au where after the cultural festival class 1a decide to all quit school and be a band full time, and they become so popular that most villains give up villaining to go to shows instead and to make sure 1a dont feel the need to switch back to being heroes

1- a quarter of the class has already committed vigilantism, Izuku just encountered two more and is musing on the meeting while riding the high of Jiro's song being able to do for Eri what several heroes couldn't, so a lot of the class is like "well it'll be fine, we can do music and help people on the side, technically until they cancel our provisional licenses or they expire in three years, it won't even be illegal."

2- Todoroki, who doesn't have his licence yet, weighs the pros and cons. He'd like to not have to go to any more remedial lessons where his dad shows up when when he's not supposed to. He asks Jiro about more ice and fire effects, and agrees to go. Tensei was in the family audience and tells Tenya he did an amazing job, which Tenya takes as permission and encouragement to go even though that's absolutely not what Tensei meant and he had no suspicion of the plan at the time. Uraraka looks at the streaming numbers and how much they can earn even with low priced tickets, and agrees. Etc etc etc

3- Bakugou only agrees because Kaminari needled him about being too good to. Unlike Todoroki, he does still attend remedial classes and sends in his normal assignments to UA, somehow while in the band full time, and in the group constantly on the run from Nedzu and various others trying to hunt them down.

4- crime rates plummet to pre-Kamino levels due to villains realizing if the kids stop the band, they're all screwed. The fact that several different villains go to a show and somehow aren't seen again doesn't really get out though to warn anyone off, probably because nobody cared about the Chimera and Mummy, and because when Tomura sent Dabi to find out where Twice and Toga had vanished to, he didn't bother to look.

5- Most of the vestiges are unhappy with this decision to join a band, Second and Third loudly complaining about the immaturity, Yoichi quietly confused and disappointed, Hikage nursing a permanent headache, but Banjo is thrilled, En doesn't say anything either way but wanted to be in a band himself when he was alive, and Nana's just glad Izuku's having fun and helping people smile. For his part, Toshinori is having a blast and is amazed at how Izuku is getting stronger with his quirk even focused as he is at using it for shows and dancing. AfO is a distant threat but one he knows Izuku can handle if he ever breaks out of prison, and in the meantime he needs to make sure all his former students are eating enough to keep up their strength. Hey what's that black stuff coming out of young Midoriya's arm-

[imagineanime2022]

MHA Characters W/ Teen Reader (Platonic)

Dabi X Reader, Keigo Takami X Reader, Tomura Shigaraki X Reader, Kai Chisaki X Reader

Requested: Anon

Request: Heyy, so I was wondering if you could do a teen! Reader with Dabi, Keigo Tomura, and Overhaul platonic, who kind of got taken in by them after being kicked out of the house and now see them as father figures? Tyy

Warning: Neglect, Homelessness, Abuse (emotional mostly), Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome???

*Part 2*

Dabi

🔥 The first time that Dabi saw you, you were left at the park because your parents had forgotten you, he remembered watching as you looked around helplessly, you were 5 at the time, eventually they realised and came back for you. 🔥 The second time he saw you, you were sitting on your own while your parents fawned over your younger sibling, cooing and asking them to show off their quirk, that was the first time that Dabi spoke to you. 🔥 The third time he saw you, you were actually looking for him, your parents again had left you to your own devices, they didn’t notice when you wandered over to the skate park attached and found him loitering in the corner, where you spent the whole time. 🔥 The time that you finally decided to go with Dabi, he had offered a few times, telling you that your parents were never going to appreciate you the way that you wanted and you were better off forgetting them, but you finally took him up on the offer when they told you that you were never going to be anything them considering your weak quirk. 🔥 Dabi doesn’t actually know what it was that possessed him to take in a child, maybe it was what your parents said, maybe it was the quirk you had or maybe it was just that you reminded him of himself and decided to give you a chance. 🔥 Your quirk allowed you to put things in a pocket dimension that only you could access, you unfortunately could only extend that to inanimate objects which was why your parents thought that it was useless, however people became inanimate after they had stopped breathing. 🔥 Dabi at first thought that he’d be over it in a couple of months but the more that he taught and the more time that you spent together, he found it harder and harder to walk away from you. 🔥 You hide a number of weapons in your dimension, as well as anything that you stole, cherished or straight up just didn’t want to carry. 🔥 Dabi never said anything but he definitely kept an eye on you when you interacted with anyone that he didn’t trust. 🔥 “Kid, be more careful, I know that you can take care of yourself but no one around here is worth the trouble that would cause.”

Keigo Takami

🪶 Keigo found you on a rescue mission, they had actually come looking for all of your family but you were the only one that arrived in time to save. 🪶 He assumed that they wanted to sell you given the fact that your quirk mirrored the abilities of a Gorgon, one look and you could turn someone to stone, when he got there he attempted to take the blindfold and you fought him before telling him that he couldn’t he’d be a statue. 🪶 After taking you back, the doctors and nurses quickly found that you wouldn’t talk to anyone and as a last ditch effort they brought Hawks back in. 🪶 Turns out that given the fact that he was the one that saved you, he was the only one that you trusted enough to talk to. The commission decided that you would live with him until they felt that you were ready to re-enter society (become the same type of hero he was). 🪶 On your first birthday with him, he got someone to make you a pair of glasses that allowed you to see the world without turning people to stone, he had honestly never been so happy. 🪶 He remembered at the end of the day he asked what your favourite colour was and you told him it was the red of his wings. 🪶 He took you shopping for the first time and if you get easily overwhelmed then you might fight that his earphones end up over your ears to help you filter out unnecessary noise while you chose some new clothes. 🪶 Given the fact that some hawks eat snakes, his more animal instincts weren’t all for the idea of you having a pet snake but given the fact that your quirk gave you an affinity for them he found a way to get over it. 🪶 He remembers the day that you became more like father and child, he came home completely exhausted but tried to keep smiling and you reminded him of something that he said to you. 🪶 “Sometimes it’s braver to not be okay, kid, I save you every time.”

Tomura Shigaraki

🤚 Neither of you really know how it happened given the fact that Shigaraki usually kills everything without a second thought, he recognises that he probably should when you wander into the bar. 🤚 The first thing he asked was where your parents were and your answer ade his blood boil. They had thrown you out because your quirk manifested and they really weren’t a fan. 🤚 That was when he asked what your quirk was and you asked him for something that he didn’t care about being broken, you then showed him your quirk molecular combustion, much like him you had a deadly touch. 🤚 At first it was agreed that you would be a good asset and that was the end of it, however as you grew up with him he became more attached. 🤚 You make him realise how messy he is, when he walks around complaining about something only for you and Kurogiri to tell him that he was the one that was responsible. 🤚 Teaches you how to fight and defend yourself as well as controlling your quirk and by the time that you were 15 you were his most trusted ally, if only because he had basically raised you himself. 🤚 You are literally the only person that is allowed to touch him and considering both your quirks it confuses everyone that knows you. 🤚 If you want to go back and make your parents pay for the way that they treated you, he won’t stop you in most cases he’d probably encourage the behaviour. 🤚 You guys are very rarely apart, he didn’t actually like having you out of his sight, you’ve been around for 10 years and even suggesting that you could go undercover triggers him, because you aren’t disposable. 🤚 “You're worth more than the moves you make, you're an SSR character.”

Kai Chisaki

💉 Kai had no intention of having a child anywhere near him, but you were worth it considering his particular ailment. 💉 When he first met you, you were only young, your quirk having just manifested, he saw you on the street as you walked over to a man, seemingly homeless and very ill, you looked over him for a second before closing your fist and opening it again to pass over a pill, the man was better in seconds. 💉 When Kai came over he crouched in front of you, you twisted your head looking at him for a second before putting your hand out another pill in your hand. 💉 Despite the fact that you were 5 you seemed unable to talk but you understood him he asked about your parents and you shook your head. 💉 Kai figured that you were intriguing enough that he would deal with the consequences if this turned out to be more of a kidnapping. 💉 Kai liked having you around. You told him if he should avoid something and even knew that he didn’t like being touched. He found that your quirk allowed you to see and then decelerate or accelerate an illness. 💉 If he wanted something from someone he could change their body to create an illness that you could manipulate the illness 90% of the time guaranteeing your success. 💉 He’d never outwardly tell you that he liked having you around or that he thought of you as one of his own, instead he would protect you, defend you and make sure that you are provided for. 💉 Definitely taught you basic academics and when you showed an interest in medicine (surprise surprise) he was more than happy to teach you. 💉 “Well done, you're not completely useless.”

Request Here!!

[makeste]

So before the next chapter translation/recap drops, I wanted to ask what you think of Bakugo very likely being AFO's final opponent? I didn't really see that coming. The rival is always there, but they usually team up with the MC for the final fight or aren't part of it (Vegeta during all the DBZ saga final villains, Sasuke at the end of Shipuuden). AFO isn't even Bakugo's personal villain, like Dabi is Todoroki's and Himiko is Uraraka's. I'm trying to wrap my head around it so it's more satisfying, but while it's REALLY AWESOME, I'm not feeling the *personal* stakes and ngl I spent half the time wondering if Deku would swoop in. I'm guessing he won't, final battle Shigaraki vs Deku, but yeah.

I think it's an interesting subversion of the usual final boss tropes. it's true that AFO and Bakugou don't have much in the way of personal history. they lack the tragic family ties of Dabi and Shouto, or the frequent homoerotic encounters of Toga and Ochako. Horikoshi clearly went a different route here.

that being said, there are a few things I do like about the setup. first, I really like that Bakugou chose Kid For One to be his final villain (and then inverted things on top of that -- you're not my final boss, I'm your final boss, lol). it's very much in line with his usual stubbornness and singlemindedness. everyone else -- Izuku, Shouto, and Ochako -- were sort of unwillingly dragged into their conflicts by fate. but Bakugou wanted a final boss so much that when life didn't conveniently hand him one, he went out and DEMANDED one. literally DIYed his own. that's the most Bakugou thing ever tbh.

second, I like the recurring theme of AFO creating his own demons. he's so powerful that the only thing that can bring him down is his own hubris. he accidentally created OFA by trying to dominate his baby brother. he tormented the OFA users for centuries only to be mutilated by a royally pissed-off All Might. and he has been snidely dismissive of Bakugou on multiple occasions throughout the manga, which is certainly looking like one hell of a mistake right now. not just because he missed the opportunity to kill him off on earlier occasions, but also because we all know that the more you ignore Kacchan, the more determined he is to prove you wrong.

third, I like that AFO is the one who apparently has personal trauma and not the other way around. even if the extent of his trauma is just, "you look like the guy I really hate!!", lol. it's unexpected and mildly amusing and I enjoy it.

and lastly, while I'm probably not super qualified to weigh in on this (seeing as there's a big chunk of the Deku vs. Tomura/AFO fight which I still haven't read yet, so I don't know how much ground has been covered already), I'm not so sure that this is the actual final battle. as you mentioned, those usually involve the rival teaming up with the MC against a single final villain. and neither Tomura nor Kid For One is giving me genuine final boss vibes tbh. I think AFO, and not Tomura, will be the final "final boss", but I'm guessing it will be a different version of AFO. either the AFO currently taking up residence in Tomura's head, or, potentially, the one possibly hanging out in Deku's.

either way though, that also means the final phase of this battle will likely take place not in the real world, but inside the OFA/AFO Mojo Dojo Casa Realm. and I think it will be Deku, Katsuki (since I'm convinced he also has OFA), and Tomura (plot twist) united against AFO. which I think would make for a much stronger final battle than the current setup. we were promised an ending which would surpass Heroes Rising in epicness, after all. a simple Deku vs. Tomura would hardly cut it, especially with Deku having already pushed himself to his limits and revealed all of his current OFA tricks that we know about. gotta be more to it.

so yeah, those are my thoughts. I'm enjoying the current antics, but I do think they are miniboss antics and not final boss ones. any finale that doesn't involve multiple OFA users teaming up against a single AFO wielder is going to feel a bit like it missed the point. it's literally in the name, lol. we need the "all" versus the "one", or else all that foreshadowing goes to waste. that's my hope at any rate.

[starstruckkittensweets]

“Everything” Pt. I | Dabi x Reader

“You love him—everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be.”

Fandom: My Hero Academia  Pairing: Dabi x Reader  Words: 13.9k 

A/N: I’m a slut for Dabi. Scratch that—I am a MASSIVE slut for Dabi. And that couch scene in 6x17 only solidified my obsession with him. I have no excuse for this fic, except that it’s angsty, filthy, and way too long for its own good. I just have too many thoughts on Dabi as both a character and a love interest and I shamelessly projected myself onto Reader the entire time writing this. I wanna hold him and tell him it’s all gonna be okay, but at the same time I wanna fuck his brains out like there’s no tomorrow. The second half will be uploaded later this week, once I finish editing it. I hope you enjoy! (Now let me go hide my face in shame...)

Also a huge thank you to my dear friend @lostinwildflowers​, who’s just as thirsty for Dabi as I am! Birch, it’s because of you cheering me on that this fic finally got finished! (And further down the rabbit hole we go!) 

Warnings: 18+ only (minors please DNI), fem-bodied reader, spoilers for Season 6 (up to Episode 17 at least), Reader and Dabi may or may not be in the healthiest mindset to fuck right now (that won’t stop em though), Reader is somewhat dependent on Dabi, oral sex (f. receiving), face sitting, vaginal sex, spanking, quirk use, branding, crying (Reader is a bit of a crybaby but she means well), hair pulling, fingering, blood tears, Dabi’s an asshole and doesn’t want to admit that Reader actually loves and cares for him 

Part I | Part II 

You’ve been to this mansion exactly three times before.

The first time was in the middle of the fall, when the leaves were crisp and the winds were brisk. It was an old shabby building in the middle of nowhere, worn out and run down by the countless inhibitors that came before you. At the time Dabi had brushed it off, claiming they were no longer a threat to you, that it was now the perfect little getaway from the rest of the world. (As long as the rest of the League was off elsewhere, of course.)

He had wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you down on that ratty old couch, the one with faded gold carvings and fluff poking out of the torn cushions. You had been a little wary at first; it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant smell in the world. But he kept you busy with his burning kisses and wandering hands, and eventually you dozed off right there in his arms, with his chest pressed against your back.

The second time was in the dead of winter, just before the New Year. You had forced him down on that damn couch and pressed every wad of gauze you could find to the fresh wounds on his arms and torso. The bastard had been too rough and ripped his staples again, a thin trickle of red seeping down his skin. You had yelled at him for that, as though you were his mother and not just the girl he’d preferred to keep his bed warm. So loud your voice rang throughout the halls of the mansion, enough for Twice and Toga to peek their heads around the corner to see what all the fuss was about.

The third time was a little more pleasant, on the eve of the eighteenth of January. A night of strolling around the city too far from home led you back to the quiet mansion—luckily you were the only ones there at the time. The two of you were tipsy on whatever booze Dabi had managed to get his hands on that day; your lips were thrumming from his kisses, your body as light as a feather in his arms. He carried you into a secluded room on the second floor, the one he’d claimed for his own so long ago, and his fingers pressing into the meat of your thighs. Before you knew it you were being crushed beneath him on the bed, moaning his name into his mouth as he slipped your shirt over your head.

Neither of you awoke until late the next morning, when he oh-so generously accompanied you on the walk back to your apartment, pulling a worn black hoodie over your head to hide the bruises on your neck and arms. It was frayed at the sleeves and smelled of smoke, but it was the warmest thing you’d ever worn in your life.

And now you’re standing outside this mansion a fourth time, with that old hoodie hugging your chest, keeping out the last winter chill of the season.

The League has never kept the doors locked—both for easy access and knowing just how they managed to wipe out the last group that lived in this mansion—so it’s not hard to slip in through the front. The halls are dark and silent, the scent of musk so strong you cover your nose with the sleeve of the hoodie. Not like smoke is much better, but still…

And that’s when you hear it: a faint chuckle, deep and raspy, at the very end of the hall. The slightest flicker of blue coming to life among the shadows.

You swallow once, stilling your trembling fingers in the pockets of the hoodie, and start to walk forward.

He’s standing there in the middle of the living room (at least that’s what Toga calls it; it only has a couch and a few dressers for decorations, mostly the knives she likes to keep on display for the rest of you to see). Your jaw drops at the sight of marred skin, a deep purple shade stretching across the length of his back, over his arms and down to his hipbones. He grunts as he presses down hard on one of the staples in his wrist, locking it back into place with a sigh.

You gasp, but he doesn’t turn around at the sound. Instead he rolls his shoulders back, cocks his head as he focuses on another staple splitting his skin apart.

“Dabi.” Your voice is a whisper, too quiet for him to hear. Or maybe he’s just ignoring me. You clear your throat and try again: “Dabi, you’re hurt. I can—”

He says your name then, and your blood turns to ice in your veins. He heaves a sigh as he tugs out a rusted staple from his wrist, flicking it to the ground before reaching for a fresh one on the dresser closest to him.

“I told you to stay away. So go home.”

Your breath catches in your throat; your heartbeat echoes in your ears. The black hoodie suddenly feels too snug around your neck as you glare at him, at the ragged skin his flames have left behind.

“You’re not serious. Two weeks—no, three weeks of complete radio silence, and that’s all you have to say to me?” It’s getting harder to stare at him when your eyesight’s getting all blurry. You brush your eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie, but that just makes you feel even worse. Damn smoke.

He doesn’t answer, only winces as another new staple buries itself into the skin of his wrist. You take a step forward, ready to clean the blood off his back or smack him upside the head, you’re not sure which one just yet.

But then he’s staring at you from over his shoulder, and all you can see are the patches beneath his eyes, the fresh burns stretching past the silver staples in his cheeks.

“Why are you here?” he asks, and you shiver at the forlorn look in those beautiful blue eyes. “You’re supposed to be home by now, it’s getting late. Leave already.”

“No.” The words pour out of you so fast you barely register what you’re saying. “Not again. I’m not leaving after you—” You swallow the lump in your throat, well aware of those eyes on you. “…After seeing that video—I couldn’t even…”

Fuck, it seems so long ago. Nearly a month of silence from Dabi, of sitting in your apartment wondering if you should leave the window unlocked for him even though he hates it, of checking your phone for any messages from unknown numbers, of constantly wondering if there was anything you could’ve said or done to keep him from walking out that night—

To staring at the little TV in your living room, a broken mug lying at your feet, your second cup of coffee soaking through the carpet. To feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you saw him, burn scars and all, revealing the truth about himself and the family he’d come from.

“Touya.”

It used to be your little secret. Something he mumbled into your hair as you patched him up one night, assuring him and yourself that he wouldn’t die. Something you’d panted into his mouth as he pressed you into the mattress in your bedroom, curling his fingers around your own. Something he’d trusted you with.

And now everyone knows about it; his family, his story, his name. Everyone knows and he can’t take it back.

But a part of you thinks he doesn’t want to take it back. That wild look in his eye, that gleeful smile that nearly rips his staples apart. The world is in shambles because of him and he fucking loves it.

“Touya,” you try again, “let me help you. You…you need to be cleaned up, I can take care of you…”

He makes no move to run as you step closer, hands barely brushing his ragged arms. Tears are spilling down your cheeks, mirroring the trickles of blood sliding down his chest. You can remember burning your hand on the stove so many years ago, even when your mother warned you to be careful. You had whined about the pain until she wrapped it up and gave you a kiss, chiding you for acting like such a child.

You can’t imagine being burned like this—your body being eaten by your own flames—the thought makes your stomach roll into itself.

“C’mon.” You pull him closer to the dresser, grimacing at the tray of fresh staples in front of you (as well as its bloodied twin). A familiar dance for the two of you. “I got you.”

You’re safe with me.

He’s silent as you clean out his wrists, leaving bloody tissues all across the dresser and floor, wincing at every bit of silver biting into his skin. Open, close, open, close. He doesn’t complain, not even once as you try your best to stitch him up. You keep your mouth shut, even though your tongue is burning with all the things you want to say. Too scared that even the slightest bit of noise will chase him off again, and you’ll be left at square one once more.

When the blood is cleaned off and the staples are secured, you steal a glance at the palm of his hand. Cringing as the rough purple skin stretches all the way up to his fingers. Can he still feel anything? Or are his nerves shot for good?

The thought makes your stomach churn. Without thinking you lean into his palm, splaying his fingers across your cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sor—”

“For what?”

His voice is rough, and when he pulls his hand away you want to burst into tears. He gives your head a messy pat, mussing up your hair before walking to the other end of the room.

“You got nothin’ to feel sorry for, doll. So don’t go saying shit that’s not true.”

Your tongue feels heavy against my lips. “W-what?”

“You patched me up, I won’t bleed out. So you can go already.” He sprawls himself across that ratty old couch, legs hanging off the arm as he drapes a hand across his forehead. “Leave.”

“But… I don’t want to…”

Suddenly you feel like a child again, clinging to your parents and begging them for just five more minutes of fun before bedtime. There’s a horrible nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach, laughing at you, taunting you for how stupid you are.

He doesn’t want you here. Just get out of here before you make things worse.

But you know that if you walk out that door right now, you may never see this man in the flesh ever again.

You can’t let him get away. Not again—not ever.

“I’m staying.” Dabi’s eyes are practically glowing in the dark, watching your every move as you cross the room to follow him. “You don’t get to tell me that after all this time. So I’m staying, whether you like it or not. So stop trying to get me to leave!”

The chuckle he gives sends a chill down your spine. He leans further into the couch and rests his arm against his forehead.

“Everyone leaves sooner or later, dollface.”

Oh.

That’s where his mind is at right now.

He likes to put up a front. Likes to hide behind sarcastic comments and unimpressed looks. Shows off his power any chance he gets just to remind everyone how strong he is, how easily he could incinerate everyone with a single flick of his hand.

But you can still see the little boy with white hair, begging for his father’s approval, masking his sadness with a smile.

“…Well, I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.” You flump down on the floor with a huff, back pressing into the worn out couch, legs sprawled out in front of you. “So get used to having me around.”

He doesn’t seem happy, but at least he’s not trying to get you to leave anymore. For now, at least.

The two of you bask in the silence of the shadowy room, neither one acknowledging the other. You pull your knees up to your chest and keep your eyes forward, staring at the sliver of moonlight that seeps through the single window ahead, as Dabi’s soft breathing lulls you into a semi-relaxed state.

There are so many things you want to tell him, to ask him, to scream at him. Why didn’t you come home after that night? What did I do wrong to make you stay away? Why do you insist on pushing me away when you know all I want to do is help you?

It’s still so raw, the memory of his last night in your apartment. Early February—just two days shy of Valentine’s Day, the prick—at close to three in the morning. One minute you were sleeping soundly in your bed with his arms wrapped around your waist; the next you were begging him not to leave, fat tears streaming down your cheeks.

Demanding to know why he decided to leave after all this time, after so many months of bliss. Recalling the promise you’d made to him on his birthday in this very house, in the old room he’d claimed for himself. And when that didn’t work you started throwing things—pillows, clothes, his stupid pack of cigarettes—anything you could get your hands on. Anything to get him to stay, even for just one more night.

But he’d pulled on his shirt and walked out the door—the first time he’d ever used the door instead of the window. He left you there in the living room, tearing at your hair as your chest wracked with sobs.

I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I fucking—

“Still have that shitty hoodie, huh?”

His voice is raspy when he speaks, a low sound that snaps your head from your arms. You try not to look at him as you nod, hugging your knees closer to your chest. A whiff of smoke crosses your nose when you tug the collar of the hoodie over your mouth, as though it were a scarf.

“Looks good on you, doll.” Dabi gives a breathless laugh, and it’s hard not to turn your head to look at him. Of all the things he could talk to you about, he chooses that?

Maybe it’s just his way of appeasing you, as though you’ll forget the last few weeks ever happened.

“Better on you than me; I always hated wearing it. Too stuffy and hot. It always got—”

“Caught on your staples, I know.” The words are already falling from your mouth; no matter how hard you grip your arms or bite your tongue, they just keep on coming. “That’s why you don’t like to wear sweaters, they make you itch and you overheat way too fast.”

Silence—for a moment you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. You swallow hard and twist your head, nails biting into the sleeves of the hoodie. His arm is over his eyes, but you can still see the slight quiver in his jaw when you start talking.

“I know you can’t stand being in a car for more than ten minutes, or else you’ll start to feel sick. I know you like to drink but not too much, because you hate the way it makes you feel like you’re losing control of your body. You hate the way your head starts swimming and you have to lay down with a rag on your head. I know you prefer Camels but you can’t always find them, and that’s why I keep a stash of them on the kitchen counter, in case you end up running out.”

Your hands are clenched into fists now, your heart leaping in your throat with every word you say. You have no idea if he’s even listening, or if he’s fallen asleep from exhaustion or boredom. But there’s no stopping the words from spilling out, your tongue burning with every syllable, every breath you suck in just to calm your racing heart.

“You like sleeping on your left side rather than your right because you think it helps you fall asleep faster—and it doesn’t hurt as much, the worst of your scars are on your right side. You’re a fan of that special cherry-scented shampoo in my bathroom, the one you always use whenever you beg me to bathe with you. You still have that stupid keychain I got for you last Christmas, the one that splits into two halves of a heart. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you leave out some food for the stray cats in the alley behind my apartment—because I know it’s you. Only you could leave a tray of cat food smelling like an ashtray, dummy.”

That was quite a sight to wake up to: a ragtag group of kittens right below your kitchen window, lapping up food from a little silver tin—something that had definitely not been there the night before. And while the whole alleyway smelled of smoke and ash, there wasn’t a single cigarette stub to be found on the pavement. Too worried one of the cats might decide to chew on them, probably. As much as he tried to downplay it, Dabi did have a soft spot for animals. He had a heart of his own, somewhere in that scarred, ragged chest of his.

Which is why this whole situation hurts you so much. You know he cares about whatever kind of bond the two of you have. You know he’s so much more than what he claims to be. You know that deep down inside him, he’s still the boy with the bright blue eyes—Touya Todoroki, the boy who dreamed of becoming a hero one day.

I know you, so let me in. I’ll still be by your side, no matter what you do.

“And I know that I could never leave you when you’re in pain like this, even if you tell me to.” It’s hard to keep your voice soft, but you try your best anyway. Anything for him. “Even if you scream at me and try to scare me, I’ll never leave you. Not now, and not ever. So please, just…”—suddenly there’s a lump in your throat, your eyes growing blurry at the edges—“…let me help you.”

He could scoff and brush you off. He could glare and demand for you to get out. He could crush you so easily, referring to the last actual conversation you had, where he claimed you were nothing more than a way for him to blow off some steam. He could incinerate this entire mansion, taking you down with it—and quite possibly himself. But no matter what happens, or what he may do, you have to stand your ground. You made a promise not only to him, but to yourself as well. To keep the two of you safe, even if the entire world stood against you. To love him until you took your dying breath, and to trust in him to do the same for you.

I don’t care what you’ve done or who you are, or even what you plan to do. No matter what happens, I will always have a special place in my heart for you.

Those were the exact words you’d said to him on his birthday, in this very mansion. And you still meant every single one of them, as if you’d said them just moments ago.

“…C’mere.”

Your mouth falls open when he finally moves his arm away from his face, only to drum his fingers against his bare chest. Those blue eyes are unnaturally bright, beckoning you closer—as though he’s the devil you’ve been warned to stay away from your entire life.

It’s a bit awkward at first, stumbling off the floor and crawling up the length of his body. But there’s no word of protest, no sign of discomfort as you throw one leg over his waist, settling down on his hips as gently as you can. Suddenly those scarred palms are stretching out to you, and you lean in to press a line of kisses across the fresh purple marks.

“Stubborn little shit.” The words are harsh but there’s no bite to them—only a soft glint in those beautiful eyes of his. “It’s too late for you to head back home already, isn’t it?”

You give him a shrug, dragging your mouth to the inner part of his wrist. “I guess so. Like hell am I leaving you here all alone with those injuries.”

You both know he’s lived through worse, a few misplaced staples aren’t going to kill him overnight. But you’ll take any excuse you can get to stay with him, even for just a bit longer.

He hums at that, leaning his head against the arm of the couch. His fingers are warm against your skin, brushing across your forehead as he sweeps a few stray pieces of hair off to the side. When he’s done you take ahold of his wrist again, pressing a few kisses against the fresh staples in his palm, as soft as you can manage. That gets a laugh from him—short and breathless, but a laugh nonetheless.

“Never know when to quit, do you? You keep chasin’ after me, even when I tell you not to. I thought you had a brain in that pretty little head of yours, doll.”

“I do, and I could’ve easily let you bleed out from your wounds.” You run your hands across the staples on his chest, down his abdomen before working your way back up his arms. “But I didn’t, because I’m just that kind of person.”

“Hm, a good girl who’s got a soft spot for a dangerous villain?”

“You’re not a villain,” you tell him, even though you both know that’s a blatant lie. “And I don’t have just a soft spot for you. I…”

One minute the words are there on your tongue—and the next your lips are pressed together, too afraid to speak as those burning blue eyes bleed into your own.

I love you. That’s all you have to say; three simple words, and your fate is sealed.

So…why are they so fucking hard to say out loud?

You do love him. You love him so much your chest aches whenever you look at him. It hurts whenever you know he’s putting himself in danger, risking his life to destroy what made him this way in the first place. He tries to hide it with a cocky smirk and a few flirtatious comments, but you know him better than that. This is the same man who huddles deep under the blankets of your bed with you, even though he claims they’re too scratchy against his skin. The same man who rests his head in your lap and lets you play with his hair, who will sometimes ask about whatever book you’re currently reading at the moment. The same man you’ve caught, on at least two separate occasions, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, hunched over the running sink, a thin trail of blood trickling from the staples embedded beneath his eyes. The same man who doesn’t even protest as you wrap your arms around him and lead him back to bed, reminding him of just how much he’s needed—how much you need him—with gentle kisses and soft-spoken words.

You love him—everything he was, everything he is, and everything he will be.

He reaches up and presses his thumb and forefinger into your chin, bringing your face down to his. Apparently you’re taking too long to respond.

“Listen to me, doll.” A shiver sweeps down your spine at the familiar pet name. “Are you really willing to sign your life away for a piece of shit like me?”

There he goes again, degrading himself and his worth. Sometimes you wish you could meet the man who did this to him. Stare his father straight in the eye and demand to know what prompted him to treat his own son this way. As though if he wasn’t the epitome of perfection, he was just a worthless waste of space.

“We’ve been over this, Touya.” You can see the twitch of his jaw at his name, his real name spilling from your lips. “You are not a piece of shit. And I wouldn’t be signing anything away; I knew damn well what I was getting myself into when I let you kiss me for the first time.”

A memory from so long ago, of drunken laughter and his heavy coat draped over your shoulders—and your incessant whining that the sleeves weren’t long enough to keep you warm. He had rolled his eyes and shut you up with a kiss, before scooting over to sit behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. Claiming that he would keep you warm instead, while you’d been too stunned to speak. Too preoccupied with the taste of his lips—of booze and smoke…and of the slightest scent of cedarwood.

“You’re a pain in my ass and you always know what to say to push my buttons, and I’m still pissed at you for leaving that night—and not coming to visit afterwards. You’re an asshole, no way around it.”

You can feel the tension slipping from your shoulders, the cloud of frustration finally easing from your mind as you reach down to take his face in your hands. Palms pressed against his ragged skin, thumbs grazing the staples below his eyes, savoring the way his lips part at your touch, the way his eyelids flutter as you lean in close. His fingers are burning against your waist, but you trust him not to burn you to ash. You still trust him, even though he’s given you every reason not to.

“But you’re mine. My pain in the neck, my villain, whatever you want to call yourself. My Dabi, my Touya—it doesn’t matter to me, as long as I get to have you.”

It’s the closest you can get to those three damn words without bursting into tears. But he seems to understand, because suddenly he’s twisting his hands into your hair and yanking you down for a searing kiss.

You can remember the first time he kissed you, how you knew you would never get tired of feeling his mouth on your own, or tasting his lips, or seeing the smug look on his face as he pulled himself away, just to see you breathless and begging for more. It’s still the same now, more or less, but with an underlying heat between your bodies. An undeniable wave of desire, crashing over your heads until the only thing you can see, touch, taste, is each other.

A groan slips through his mouth as he tugs you up the length of his body, mismatched lips finding their way to the familiar pulse point in your neck. He’s quick with his work, sucking a fresh bruise just below your jaw, where he knows his hoodie won’t be able to reach. It’s hard not to whine as he works his way down your neck, nipping and sucking as you bury your face and fingers into his soft white hair.

Fuck, you’ve missed this. How long has it been since he’s held you against his body like this, drawing out this wild side, this primal need for him, that only he can hope to tame?

Too long—too fucking long.

“D-Dabi,” you’re panting against his hair, moaning as he ruts his hips up into yours. “…It’s too dark in here—n-need to see you—”

He’s sitting up in a flash, one arm coiled around your waist with his other stretched out behind him. A gentle stream of flame erupts from his palm, illuminating his eyes before settling into the fireplace beside the couch. A thin trail of smoke rises from his wrist, reminding you of all the cigarettes he would smoke out on your balcony in the dead of night.

“Better, doll?”

“Better,” you whisper, and he smirks before pressing his mouth to yours once more.

For a moment, you forget about everything that’s led you up to this point. For a moment there’s no war between heroes and villains, no innocent civilians caught in the crossfire, no heartbroken memories or damning videos. There’s just the two of you within these four walls, all alone for the first time in almost a month.

And fuck if you’re not going to take advantage of every single second you can.

You push down on his chest, mindful of the scars and staples, and he falls back against the arm of the couch with a grunt. That lopsided smirk, the mischievous glint in his eye—he looks way too pleased with himself, a surefire warning to be on guard. He can be dangerously unpredictable in bed, more so after a mission or a fight with some heroes. All that adrenaline pumping through his veins gives him an extra edge, one he’s all too willing to exploit when he’s tangled up with you.

“Let’s get this off,” he mumbles, lifting the hem of your hoodie, his hoodie over your stomach.

“I’ll be cold,” you whine, but you still let him slip it over your head.

“Don’t worry, doll.” He tosses it to the floor, his mismatched lips grazing the shell of your ear. “I’ll be sure to keep you warm.”

Your shirt follows not too long after, and then he’s kissing his way across your chest, needy fingers already fumbling with the clasp of your bra. You roll your eyes and bat his hands away, and it’s hard not to giggle at the unimpressed look on his face. As though you had the sheer audacity to deny him of what’s rightfully his.

“Your turn, dummy. I’m not gonna be the only one who gets stripped down tonight.”

“Aww, this isn’t enough for you?” He motions to his bare chest with a wave of his hand, looking even more offended when you shake your head at him.

“No, not yet.” He groans when you shift a bit lower in your place against his hips, thumbing the silver button of his pants, licking your lips at the thin trail of white hair that disappears below the waistband. “I wanna see even more of you.”

“Then you better work for it,” he growls, but the feral look in his eye and the way his lip curls over his teeth tells you he wants this just as much as you do. He nestles into the arm of the couch, hands resting behind his head, as he gives an experimental buck of his hips—one that makes you gasp and your face flush with heat.

“You want it that badly, doll? Then show me what you’re made of.”

“Oh I plan to, Touya.”

You crush your mouth against his own, fumbling with that tiny silver button, sighing into his mouth when you finally manage to unclasp it. Your fingers dip down beneath the waistband, down the fabric of his boxers and over the slick patch of skin beneath. He’s so hot, literal flames coursing through his veins with every breath he takes. So dangerous, so lethal.

But you’ve never been scared of him, and you don’t plan on starting now.

He sucks in a sharp breath as he lifts his hips slightly, allowing you to slip his pants down to his thighs. But when you drag them down to his knees his hand suddenly curls around your wrist, freezing you in place.

His eyes are wide, his mouth agape, his fingers trembling against my skin.

“Doll…”

It’s not a warning, rather a plea. And it makes your heart ache in your chest all over again.

He’s always kept some of his clothes on during sex, even if they irritate his skin. Usually it’s enough for him to lower his pants just enough to free himself, especially if you’re in a well-lit room. Unless you’re in complete and total darkness, he refuses to strip down completely when he’s with you.

Part of you thinks he’s ashamed of the scars. You know exactly how much of his body they cover, from his face, down his chest, and over his legs. But you’ve never shied away from them, even when they’re still fresh and steaming. They’re just a part of him, the same as his eyes or his hair or that sharp tongue he likes to flaunt around. Another bit of Dabi you’ve grown to admire and love.

“Let me see,” you whisper, kissing the healthy swath of skin on his cheek. “You’re beautiful, Touya, and I want to see all of you.”

Touya, Touya, Touya. How many times has that name crossed your lips? How many nights had he drawn it out of you, breathless and soft as you squirmed beneath his body? How many times did you whisper it into your pillow, tears staining your lashes, as your last night replayed itself over and over again in your head?

Such a lovely name, and you’re still so proud of him for trusting you with it.

“Because you’re mine, right?” His fingers slowly unravel themselves from your wrist. Slowly, but surely. “You’re mine, as much as I’m yours… If you’ll have me, that is,” you add with a nervous giggle.

You’ve been so caught up in wanting to prove to him that you want him, that you never stopped to check if he wants you in the same way. I guess that’s what I get for being so eager.

He scoffs, tangling his fingers in your hair once more. “Fuck, you know I want you, dollface.”

Your chest swells with pride—and something else you’re not quite ready to put a label on just yet.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now lift your hips, I wanna see you.”

There’s a rustle of fabric, the sting of staples as he kicks his heavy boots and pants off and onto the dusty floor. Large patches stretch along his legs, marred skin mixed with healthy flesh, rusty staples and crude stitching piecing him all together. It’s a sight that makes your chest ache, one that would’ve made your stomach roll at one point or another. Just another reason for you to despise the bastard who did this to him.

His kisses are light against your lips, a stark contrast to the harsh rut of his hips beneath you. Trace every bit of skin and staples you can find with your fingers, ragged and smooth, until it blends together beneath your palms. Until the only thing you can feel is Dabi.

He manages to slip your pants down over your ass, letting you lean on him just enough to slide out of them and toss them on the floor. That gets a chuckle out of both of you; it’s not exactly easy to undress while simultaneously trying not to fall off this old fucking couch. For a brief moment you wonder if you should move upstairs to an actual bed, but that thought quickly turns to dust when he dips a finger into your panties, and you realize you can’t fucking wait any longer.

“Oh? So fucking wet already, aren’t you?”

He smirks against your mouth, dragging a couple of fingers across the slick patch of skin. You gasp and roll your hips, and he seems to gain some of his confidence back—you can feel it in the way he touches you, his fingers teasing your soaked slit.

“Tell me, did you just get this wet for me now, or did you walk in here already dripping like a bitch in heat?”

A shudder courses through your veins, nails finding purchase in his scarred shoulders. Not too rough, you don’t want him to start bleeding again, not so—

“Answer me.”

You’re squirming in his lap as he spreads your folds apart, his thumb barely ghosting over your clit. But when you try to squeeze your thighs together he tightens his grip and slaps your ass hard.

“J-just now,” you manage to choke out between gasps, “…I-I swear—”

“Hm, my pretty doll,” he whispers, and his fingers curl around your chin to pull you closer, “for some reason, I don’t fucking believe you.”

He’s pulling away all too soon, smirking when a whine slips past your mouth. He shifts himself lower on the couch, his head resting on the cushion rather than the arm. He licks his lips, brings his hand to his face—the same one he just had buried between your thighs—and taps his mouth with the tip of his finger.

“C’mon, doll. Sit on my face like a good girl.”

It’s almost laughable how fast you’re tearing your panties off, absolutely pathetic how easily you submit to his will. It’s been too long since you’ve had a night like this, a night where the only two people in the world are you and him.

He groans when you settle yourself over his face, nails digging into the ratty arm of the sofa, shivering at the touch of his hands on your waist. His palms are warm—too warm to be natural. And sure enough you can see a wisp of blue emitting from his palm, before he tugs your entire weight down to sit on his face.

“Dabi, wait—”

Your breath catches at the first brush of his tongue, that familiar piercing he has right on the tip—shit, he knows just how that drives me crazy—

“Y-you’re staples!” Another gasp as he holds you in place, his palms heating up ever so slightly against your outer thighs. “Just d-don’t rip them out—ah—be c-careful!”

“’S fine,” he mumbles, pulling himself away just enough to lick at his wet lips, “I know you’ll just patch me up again if I tear them out.”

You don’t even have time to argue before he’s forcing you down on his face again, lapping at your pussy like a starved man. It’s all so exhilarating—the heat of his hands, the slight pinch of the staples in his jaw, the way his tongue slides against your folds in every way imaginable—

Suddenly his lips find their way around your clit, sucking hard and fast—and you sink your nails into the white roots of his hair.

“Dabi!”

You’re grinding yourself on his face now, gasping as each thrust brings you right against his tongue, his nose bumping against your burning clit. His eyes are glowing beneath your body, matching the shade of the flames in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the two of you. So warm, so comforting, so powerful—and absolutely feral.

He slips his tongue inside, tightens his grip on your thighs as he rocks you back and forth on his face. Your palms are slick with sweat, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as you scream out his name at the top of your lungs. So loud you’re surprised any heroes that may be nearby don’t start breaking down the doors and crashing through the windows. Though you have no doubt in your mind Dabi would refuse to stop at this point, no matter what could be lurking beyond these walls.

“Dabi, Dabi, Dabi…” His eyes flicker up to yours, his eyebrow quirked and his nose pressing against your clit. “I—ngh—I can’t take it—please, let me come—”

Like he needs to be told twice.

His nails sink into the flesh of your thighs—part of you is already wondering if you’ll still have bruises by tomorrow morning—and he starts thrusting your hips against his tongue at a rapid pace. You try your best to keep up and rock yourself against him but he’s just too fast. Never mind the strain on your muscles, the coil in your stomach that’s growing tighter and tighter with every buck of your hips. You might as well be a toy at this point, boneless and pretty, made for his pleasure rather than your own.

A doll. His doll.

And suddenly you’re bursting at the seams, the corners of your eyes sparkling with stars, the coil in your stomach finally snapping apart. Dabi’s all too eager to lap up your release, his tongue making you shiver as you gush all over his face.

“Such a good girl,” his voice is raspy as he finally lifts you off of him, circling his hands over the fresh marks on your thighs.

Your sight’s a little hazy, but you can still make out a few split staples on each side of his mouth, ripped apart between burned and healthy skin. But he’s on you before you can say a word, hoisting you into his arms and pulling you against his chest, with your legs wrapped around his waist. He presses his mouth to yours, dragging his tongue across your own, smirking when you gasp at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Still taste so fucking good, dollface.” Suddenly he’s pushing his hands on your chest, caging you against the cushions of the couch, his elbows on either side of your head. “I think you’re ready for my fingers now. You think so?”

You’re nodding as hard as you can, nearly clunking your foreheads together, and he lets out one of those rare laughs you’ve come to love so much.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, yes—fuck, I’m ready!”

This is Dabi in his element: painfully patient, well aware of the power he holds over your body, and relishing every single second of it.

He hums in delight, slipping a finger beneath the strap of your bra, resting against your shoulder. “Take this off for me—unless you want it turned to ash.”

You’re certain the clasp snaps apart with how fast you rip it off, tossing it over the arm of the couch. He smirks again as he lowers his head, pressing a kiss to your breast. A stark contrast to the primal way he was handling you earlier, but it makes you whine all the same.

He’s slow with his movements now, kneading your breasts together, pressing a line of kisses down your chest, dragging his tongue against the pulse point in your neck. He’s so soft and gentle you can feel your eyes fluttering shut, the exhaustion from your orgasm finally catching up to me.

“Dabi,” your voice is soft against his temple, “Dabi, I—ah!”

He slides a finger inside, smirking down as he brushes his mouth against your forehead.

“Eyes on me, doll. Don’t want you dozing off on me just yet, now do we?”

You can’t find the words to answer him as he adds another finger, curling them upward, drawing out another pathetic whine from the pit of your chest.

“We’re not even close to bein’ done for the night, so you just keep those pretty little eyes open for me, and let me do all the work. You understand?”

You start to nod but think the better of it, opting to choke out, “Y-yeah, I do…”

“Hm, so you can listen.” He starts pumping his fingers at a gentle pace, keeping his other arm beside your head on the couch. You can’t stop yourself from squirming beneath him as he curls his fingers, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.

“D-Dabi—”

“Good girl,” he hisses against your temple, “good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s achingly slow with his thrusts, dragging his fingers against every inch of you, every bit of flesh he can reach. Your hands find their way around his shoulder blades, nails cutting into the scarred skin as he presses down hard on your clit. You’re squealing against his mouth now, dragging your hands down the ragged skin, wincing when you pull away and see a faint shadow of red beneath your nails.

“Shit, I’m so s-sorry,” the bastard’s still pumping his fingers into you, “I-I didn’t mean to m-make you bleed—”

But he’s quick to shush you, his other hand hovering over your neck. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, pretty girl, it’s not important.”

Like hell it is, I’m not patching you up again just because you like it rough—

“Ah, there it is.” He smirks as he brushes his fingers upward, hitting that special spot that has you whining and squirming and digging your nails even deeper into his skin. “You gonna come for me, doll? Be my good girl and squirt all over my fingers?”

Your chest is heaving, legs raised to wrap themselves around his hips, gasping out his name as he drives his fingers deeper into your body.

“Y-yes, Dabi—fuck!” You’re so close, that familiar coil winding up in the pit of your stomach, almost there, almost there—

“That’s it, come for me. Make a mess for me, doll. Come on—oh, that’s it—so fucking good for me, aren’t ya?”

You’re shuddering against his burned chest, carving your nails into his skin as the coil finally explodes. You can feel yourself clamping down hard on his fingers, legs jerking as he traces his thumb over your clit, his voice as he mumbles a slew of filthy words against your ear.

“Hey, keep your eyes open.” He taps your cheek, leaving a smear of your juices on your skin. But he’s all too eager to press his lips to it and clean you off. “Turn around, doll, get on your knees. Can you do that for me?”

Anything for you, but your tongue is too thick to get the words out. Instead you give him a nod, twisting your body around as he shuffles himself off of you. Before you know it you’re leaning against the arm of the couch, grasping at the torn fabric as he settles himself behind you. There’s a soft rustling sound as he slides his boxers down, but when you try to glance back at him his hand curls around the back of your head, keeping your head forward and hanging over the arm of the couch.

“W-wanna see you…”

“Later, pretty girl. You’ll get to see me later.”

There’s a familiar bite to his tone; not the one that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, but the kind that makes your hands twitch and your throat burn. He’s still doubting the way he looks, even after everything you’ve done so far. Does he still not trust you enough to see all of him like you let him see all of you?

But then your mind goes blank as he leans into you, hands hot against your hips, the wet sound of slick filling your ears as he takes his cock in his hand. He thumps it against your clit, and the edge of the piercing on the tip has you trembling all over again.

“Deep breaths for me,” he mumbles, his breath hot against your nape, “deep breaths, doll…”

He pushes himself in, bit by bit, groaning when you whine his name beneath him. He’s stretching you out, so tight and warm you think you might burst, the collection of piercings adorning his cock making your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Every ridge of skin, every touch of metal and breath against your body sends you over the edge, sucking him in as he bottoms out inside you with a moan.

“Fuck, so tight…”

It’s all too much; the heat of his body against your own, the touch of his lips on your neck, and the throb of his cock deep inside you. Suddenly you’re dragging the back of your hand over your eyes, praying with everything you have that Dabi won’t see what he does to you.

It’s been so long, I didn’t think I’d have him like this again. Not after that night…

Not after what had been said. Not after he’d screamed that he wanted nothing more to do with you, that you were just a body to keep him busy in the dead of night. Not after you’d told him to get out of your apartment, to walk out of your life forever, that you would be better off without him. The words still rang in your head, echoing through those late nights in your bed, the sheets damp with sweat and the pillow stained with tears.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, I was only trying to hurt you. Just like you hurt me. But I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, because I—

“Still with me, doll?” You swallow hard and nod your head, keeping your eyes on the arm of the couch. His hands are surprisingly soft against your hips. “Gonna start moving, you ready?”

You close your eyes, savoring the warmth of his skin, both burned and smooth, against your own. “Of course I am. Just fuck me already.”

He’s steady at first, mindful of his size and your position on the couch. Rolling his hips into your own, massaging your hips with his scarred palms, the occasional curse slipping through his mouth. It’s been too long since you’ve found yourself in a situation like this; despite your best efforts, you haven’t been with anyone else since that last night. Every face, hand, pair of lips against your own reminds you of him.

But now you have him, after all this time, and you’ll be damned if you don’t have him at least try to make up for the month of hell he put you through.

You’re thrusting your hips against his own, relishing the groan and startled look in his eye when you gaze up at him from over your shoulder. “I said fuck me, didn’t I?” Come on, I know you can do better than that. “So don’t hold back.”

And suddenly he’s wrapping a fist around your hair, rutting his hips into yours like an animal in heat. The wet sound of his skin slapping against your own, his cock sliding in and out of you, the feral groan he lets out in the form of your name—it’s too much too soon, leaving you gasping for air over the arm of the couch.

“Little fucking slut, aren’t ya? Always so eager for my cock. Tell me,” he sneers, and you jolt when his breath clouds over the shell of your ear, “did you come all the way out here tonight hoping to get your pretty little brains fucked out?”

Not entirely—the possibility hadn’t even crossed your mind on the trek here. But that’s not what comes out of your mouth.

“M-maybe—fuck, yes!” You cry out as his palm comes down hard on your ass, your pitiful words only fueling his ego. “S-so rough…”

“Aww, doll, I thought you liked it when I’m rough with you?” Another thrust of his hips, his cock pounding against that sweet spot deep inside you. “Let me ask you, how many men did you fuck while I was gone?”

“N-none…”

“Hm? Couldn’t hear ya, doll. Speak up.”

He smacks your ass again, eliciting another scream from your throat. “None! No one else, only…only you, Dabi…”

The tears are spilling freely down your cheeks, leaving little pools on the arm of the couch. Dabi groans again as he yanks your hair back, his lips searing against the skin of your jaw.

“Say it again. Say my name.”

“Dabi, Dabi—”

“Not that one, doll.”

Your heart thrums against your ribcage, eyes wide and teary, but you can still feel a smile on your face.

“Touya!”

He’s pounding into you at a brutal pace, one hand still wrapped around your hair as his other hand slides down the length of your body, between your thighs to circle over your burning clit. You’re gasping out his name, nails biting into the arm of the sofa, bucking your hips back to meet his thrusts halfway.

A stray tear slides down your cheek; he releases his hold on your hair just to wipe it away and kiss the heated skin below.

“Touya, I-I’m so close—so fucking close—”

It’s right there within your reach, burning on the tip of your tongue, your eyes fluttering shut with every thrust he gives you.

“Don’t hold back,” he hisses as you push back against him with a whimper. He presses two fingers against your clit, rubbing them in hard, tight circles. “Wanna hear you scream, got it?”

You can only nod your head, your words slurring together as he brings you closer and closer to your peak.

“C’mon, cream all over my cock—”

“F-fuck, Touya!”

Suddenly you’re tumbling over the edge, pressing your face into the arm of the couch, clenching your thighs around his hand. A tremble courses through your body, vision flooding with white, whining out his name as he continues to circle your clit, even when you’re spent and slumped in his arms.

“That’s it, doll, such a good girl for me.” But there’s a strain in his voice, a familiar fire in his thrusts as he chases his own release. “So good, so fucking good—”

Something warm and rough closes over the back of your hand; your eyes open to see his fingers lacing through your own, pinning your hand to the arm of the couch. It’s not long before he shifts himself to grasp your other hand, caging your body against the couch, his voice raspy and his breaths short against the shell of your ear.

“Gonna come—where do you want it, doll?”

You squeeze his fingers with your own, eyes fixed on the burned skin of his arm. “I-inside… Want you inside me, Touya…”

His chest shudders against your back, face pressed against your neck as he stills his thrusts, spilling himself inside of you. He stays there for a moment, panting against your skin, still holding your hands in his scarred ones, the heat of his body giving you an entirely new sense of bliss you thought you’d lost for good.

But then he slides himself out, his cum dribbling onto the cushions below, and you can’t help but giggle when his cock brushes against your inner thigh.

“Still hard?” He scoffs and starts to pull away—but your hands are already curling around his wrists, tugging him back down to your level. “Lay down,” you manage to slur out, “wanna be on top now.”

He barks out a laugh but settles down on the couch anyway, tracing the skin of your hips with his nails.

“Sure you’re up for this, dollface?” You nod, straddling his hips for the second time tonight. “You look worn out, don’t want you falling asleep on me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fucked me in my sleep,” you murmur, and he only smirks at the memory. Needy asshole. “Besides, you had me the way you wanted. And now it’s my turn.”

“Oh? And in what way do you want me?” He squeezes his hands around your ass and pulls you in close. “My cock not good enough for you anymore?”

“No, it’s more than enough.” You press your hands to the planes of his chest, smiling as he sinks into the messy cushions below. “I just wanna see your eyes when I tell you how beautiful you are.”

That’s when you see it: the tiniest clench of his jaw, the glazed look in his eye that lets you know, he thinks it’s all bullshit. That he won’t believe you, no matter how many times you say it to his face.

“…I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I said I wanted all of you, didn’t I? I meant it, even your looks. Your hair, your eyes, these scars…” You lean down to kiss his neck, eliciting the softest groan from his chest. “They’re my favorite part about you.”

“Why?” The look in his eyes is so uncertain, so terrified—as if he’s still a child, begging for someone to accept him. “They’re just scars. They’re…ugly.”

“Not really. They show just how strong you are. How strong your flames are, how determined you are. No matter what’s standing in your way, you always find a way to persist. And that’s why I—”

Love you.

You clamp your mouth shut, fighting the urge to slap both hands over your face. Idiot, you’re such a fucking idiot! Now he’s staring at you with those big eyes and you’re fucking everything up and—

“That’s why I…I want every part of you.” Anti-climactic, but it eases some of the weight off your chest. “Every bit you have to offer. Scars, fears, sins—none that scares me. I want all of them, because I want you. All I care about is you, Touya.”

He’s growing increasingly uneasy, you can see it in the way his eyes dart back and forth between your own and the ceiling, the slight quiver of his hands against your waist. Words have never really been his strong suit in situations like this, so you can tell he’s having trouble coming up with a response. So before he can you lean down to kiss him again, your hands roaming all across his body.

Actions seem to speak louder than words, anyway.

A thin sheen of sweat gathers along the healthy skin of his chest, the silver staples glimmering at the corners. He’s gorgeous in this light, sprawled out beneath you on the couch, the faint hue of the fireplace flickering over his skin. Matching those beautiful eyes, so sad and lost, and the wisps of flame dancing along his fingertips.

You lower your hand down his abdomen, over his hips, and smile when he gasps when you take his cock in your hand. Hot and heavy in the palm of your hand, adorned with little silver piercings along the base and tip. You remember asking him about them when you first started your little relationship, how he smirked when you asked him if they hurt at all. At the time he’d shrugged his shoulders and pulled you into his chest, insisting that they didn’t hurt anymore, that they would feel much better inside you anyway. Even now you still can’t believe how desperate he can be just for a good fuck.

Those blue eyes are still wide, burning with that same hint of lust from earlier. As if he’s trusting you to make him feel good—to take care of him, just as he’s always done to you.

“Breathe, Touya.” It’s hard to keep the smile out of your voice as he squirms beneath you, tightens his grip around your waist. “I’ve got you.”

And I’m never letting you go ever again.

It takes a few strokes of your hand before he’s bucking himself into your palm, silently whining for you to get on with it. You spread your thighs and position yourself over his cock—but not before pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

I love you.

He groans out your name as you sink yourself down onto him. That familiar stretch of his cock makes your chest shudder, a moan slipping through your parted lips. Despite the mess of cum and sweat between your bodies, neither of you seems bothered all that much. What’s the point of getting upset over it when you’re just going to add to the mess later on?

“…Maybe you were right about this position, doll.” He lifts a hand and squeezes the underside of your breast, earning a pleased hum from your throat. “Gonna enjoy seeing your face when I fuck you like this.”

“As if,” you try to laugh, but it’s hard to keep your voice steady. “I’m the one who’s fucking you this time.”

“We’ll see about that.”

But before he can move you take his hands in your own, raising them up and pinning them beside his head on the arm of the couch. Smirking at the mischievous look in those hooded eyes.

“Not a chance, Touya. You’re gonna be good for me—whatever I have to offer, you’re gonna lay there and take it.”

“Oh am I, doll? Since when did you get all demanding and feisty, huh? I guess me being gone for a bit made you needier than usual, huh?”

Probably, but there’s no way in hell you’ll admit it to his face. So instead you grind your hips down onto his, and he gasps and moans out your name.

“C-can’t say I don’t like it.” His breaths are growing shorter with every thrust of your hips. “You used to be s-so shy and timid, and you still are. Sure didn’t put up a fight when I fucked your brains out earlier, now did you?”

If he’s still talking, I’m not doing a good enough job.

“N-no, you didn’t—!” He still tries to laugh even when you pick up the pace, sinking your nails into the marred skin of his wrists. “Loved every second of it, didn’t you? I know you did—always a little slut for my cock—my little slut—”

Suddenly your nails are digging into the patches on his throat, his blue eyes blown wide with lust as you lean in close, so close your nose brushes against his own.

“Shut up. Just shut up and let me fuck you.”

Let me love you.

That seems to convince him; curiosity and lust seem to win him over as he complies with your orders, keeping his hands above his head, snapping his mouth shut for good. But then he’s moaning again as you roll your hips down, and his sounds only encourage you to go faster.

You press your palms against his chest, nails cutting into the healthy flesh beneath the staples, and start bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. His hands are free for now, but he doesn’t try to take control and subdue you. Instead he’s grabbing onto your hips, ramming himself deeper inside you with every thrust.

He’s hitting that same spot deep inside you, the one that makes you see stars and scream his name out to the world. The muscles in your thighs are burning; three orgasms in and you’re still chasing after a fourth like a bitch in heat. But it’s hard to resist the urge when you have him below you like this, staring up at you with those beautiful blue eyes, whispering “good girl” and “fuck, that’s it” into the musty air around you.

“C’mon, harder. I know you can do better than that—fuck—”

Dabi, Touya—it doesn’t matter what he wants to be called, you still end up screaming both names out at the top of your lungs. So loud you want everyone to know just who can make you feel this way, who holds your heart and soul and body in his scarred hands. Because he’s worth everything to you, someone you trust with your life even if you shouldn’t. Someone you don’t have to hide yourself from, to put on a front or a fake smile for. Someone who makes your heart flutter and your palms sweaty and your chest ache, because you—

“…Love you.”                              

It’s out there—you can’t take it back now. Not when you’re so close; not when he’s staring up at you like that.

As though you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

But your words don’t seem to deter him in the slightest. Instead he’s slamming you down on his cock even harder than before, swallowing your squeals as he pulls you in for another searing kiss. He’s sitting up now, arms wrapped around your waist as you bounce yourself in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” the tears are already bubbling in your eyes, “but I love you—love you so fucking much—”

“Yeah?” His voice is hoarse, as though he hasn’t used it in years. “You mean it?”

“Yes, I do! Y-you’re the only one for m-me—”

Your hands close around his shoulders, his breath burning against your neck—you can already feel the coil in your stomach, ready to snap. So close, so close—

“Almost there, doll. Ride me—give me everything you’ve got—”

You roll your hips as hard as you can, and at the first touch of his fingers against your clit you’re clenching hard around his cock. Screaming his name out as you feel every ridge and piercing move against you, inside of you as you’re gushing all over his lap.

But he’s not far behind, chasing his own release as he picks up the pace. You gather his face in your hands, running your thumbs along the lines of staples that keep his jaw secure, tasting his breath on your tongue.

And you know you should stop talking before you make everything worse, but that doesn’t stop you from pressing your mouth against his own and whispering, “Love you, Touya.”

Suddenly he’s gasping into your mouth, palms unnaturally hot against your hips—and when you give him a nod he presses his fingers deeper into your skin. A blistering sense of heat spreads throughout your body; a scream bubbles up in your throat. Touya groans out your name as he gives one final thrust, spilling himself inside you as his fingers sear their prints into the skin of your hips.

The two of you are shuddering, kissing each other furiously, blinking the sweat from your eyes. His body is already starting to overheat, a thin layer of steam rising from the stapled skin of his chest. But that doesn’t seem to be his main concern; instead he’s lowering his hands to inspect the fresh burns on your hips.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only a little,” you tell him, but he’s still kissing along the marks anyway.

It’s not the first time he’s branded you in the heat of the moment. It took him a while to agree to it, along with an incessant amount of begging on your part, and he’s still always so attentive to them whenever he does it during sex. It always baffles you how he can be so concerned and caring with taking care of the light burns he leaves on your skin, but he completely neglects his own.

“Touya, it’s fine, I’ll just clean them up in a bit. I promise I’ll be—”

But then he glances up at you, and your chest swells when you see the trails of blood leaking from the staples underneath his eyes. You try to wipe them off but he catches your wrists and tugs you close, pressing kiss after kiss against your sweaty palms.

“To—”

“Say it again.” His voice is almost pitiful, the look in his bloody eyes worse than any burn mark on your skin. “Please.”

In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never heard the man beg. Not as Touya and definitely not as Dabi. But the hopeful look in his eyes makes you want to cry. To hold him in your arms and shield him from the rest of the world. To fight off his insecurities tooth and nail, to chase away all those horrible thoughts and memories that keep him up at night. To press a thousand kisses along his face and down his body, ending at his lips before giving him a thousand more.

You take his face in your hands and kiss his forehead. His white hair tickles your nose, still smelling of smoke and ash.

“You know I love you, Touya. When I said I wanted you, I meant it. I want everything that makes you, you; I want to see you grow and thrive and make the best out of this world we’re in. And no matter how many times you try to push me away—even if you think it’s for my own good—I won’t ever leave you alone. I promise to stay by your side, no matter what you’ve done or what you may do in the future. Because I love you, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to until you believe me.”

There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say that will make you change your mind. He is the one you’ve decided to trust with your heart. The one you’ve grown to care about more than anyone else in the world. And you’ll keep saying it, even if he never believes you. Even if he never sees you in that same light.

He doesn’t speak a word, doesn’t even make a sound. He simply holds your body against his own, pressing his stapled cheek to your breasts. You can feel his heartbeat below the ragged skin of his chest, the vibrations lulling you into a light sleep.

B-bmp, b-bmp, b-bmp.

Finally he breaks the silence with a grunt, lifting you off his lap and sliding himself out of you. Your thighs are burning with exhaustion, not unlike the heat engraved in your hips. But Dabi’s careful as he swings his legs over the side of the couch, gathering you in his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.

Wordlessly he carries you to the nearby bathroom, where he sets you down on the counter and washes out your burns. He reaches for the little tube of ointment in the cabinet—the same brand you have back at your apartment—and squirts a small amount on his fingers. You do your best to stay still as he slathers it over the burns, trying to be as gentle as he possibly can. And once he’s done he cleans off his hands, grabs a roll of bandages from the counter, and presses them over the marks on your hips. Definitely not the first time you’ve worn bandages like these on your body—or the first time Dabi’s been the one to apply them.

It’s not like him to go this long without saying anything. Not a single snarky comment or flirty remark, just to get a reaction out of you. It’s almost terrifying, the way he refuses to make any sound—or even talk to you.

Did I say anything wrong? Was I too forward with my little speech earlier? Is he angry at me for admitting my feelings to him?

“…Touya?” No answer. You clear your throat and try again. “Touya, are you okay? …Are you—”

“How can I be, after what you said out there?”

Oh.

Did you read the entire situation wrong? Perhaps he’s ready to leave you for good this time, making sure you can’t follow him wherever he goes?

The mere thought hurts you more than it should. Idiot, you’re such a fucking idiot, thinking he’d feel the same about you.

“…I’m sorry—”

“No don’t, don’t fucking do that…” He lets out a sigh, swiping a hand through his hair as he all but tosses the roll of bandages on the counter. “It’s not…you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Then…why? Why are you still pushing me away when you know I love you?

And then it hits you: the problem lies within that phrase, those three simple words that crawled their way out of your mouth. Maybe he does feel the same, and he doesn’t know how to come out and say it. Or even if he should say it. Because as much as it pains you to think about, those three little words must’ve been pretty rare in his old life with his family.

Or maybe he doesn’t feel that way at all, and you’re still stuck in a perfect little fantasy, hoping it’ll all work out in the end.

You suck in a deep breath, until your chest aches from the stretch, and begin to speak.

“Touya, do you…feel the same way about me?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. You clear your throat and rephrase the question.

“Do you care about me? Say no if you don’t.” He snaps his mouth shut, and the tiniest bit of pride blooms in your chest. “So then, do you…like me the same way I like you?” And suddenly you’re a child on the playground again, wondering if your crush thinks of you in the same way you think about him.

“…I…I think I do, but…”

Blood trails are streaming down his cheeks. With every word he looks more unsure of himself, more confused, as the man he’s built himself up to be begins to crumble down before your eyes. It’s hard to breathe as you watch him break down. The blood, the scars, the way his hands curl around his face—and suddenly you’re jumping off the counter, legs shaking, heart leaping in your throat, and taking him into your arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to say it out loud. You don’t have to give me an answer right away.”

You stretch out your fingers, the tips brushing against the staples beneath his eyes. He doesn’t flinch away, even as you wipe away the trickles of blood, and you sigh in relief. A small victory, one that gives you hope that maybe this can all work itself out.

“If you don’t wanna say anything, that’s okay. I get it, believe me. But please don’t push me away anymore. I want to be close to you, okay? To stay by your side even when you don’t want me to be. So please, just…let me stay with you…”

It’s an eternity before he moves again. He slides his hand into your hair and tugs you in, mismatched lips finding their way to your forehead. You lean up to kiss his split jaw, giggling softly when he brushes his nose against your own. And for a moment, it seems like everything’s going to be okay.

You’ll be alright. You can wait for him, as long as he needs you to.

It takes some convincing (and a few heated kisses) for him to let you clean out his wounds for real and reapply his staples. The bastard’s jaw is barely hanging on at this point, a look he wears like a badge of honor. He doesn’t even wince as you snap a batch of fresh staples into his cheeks.

“Why the long face, doll?” You roll your eyes and drop another bloody staple into the tray on the counter. “You know damn well this isn’t the first time you’ve done this.”

“And it’ll be the last if you keep running your mouth like that.”

“Not if I can help it—”

“Touya.” There’s a warning in your voice but he only laughs it off.

“Touya,” he mocks in a high pitched voice, “let me come! Touya, please don’t rip your staples out! Touya, please fuck me, I need you inside me!”

“Touya!” Louder this time, but he only laughs harder.

“Yeah that’s it, doll. Sure weren’t complaining earlier, when you had my tongue inside your—”

You slap his chest as hard as you can without damaging the staples. It seems to shut him up long enough for you to finish patching him up, but he’s still wearing that fucking smirk that makes you weak in the knees.

At least he’s eased up for now. As much as you adore him, it’s not easy seeing him act all unsure of himself. As though he has to hide who he really is from you.

When the blood’s finally cleared off and his scars are treated, he takes a fresh cloth from the cabinet and soaks it under the sink. He runs it along your thighs, wiping away any traces of his cum. After he’s finished you rinse the cloth with warm water and press it along his sweaty chest. Careful the fabric doesn’t get caught on the staples lined across his skin.

Once the two of you are cleaned off, he scoops you up in his arms with your legs wrapped around his hips, and he leads you back into the room with the fireplace. You’ll have to wait until you get back to your place for a proper shower; unfortunately this old mansion doesn’t have much to offer when it comes to running water. But judging by the way Touya’s carrying you, with his arms tight around your waist, you’re starting to think he’s not ready to leave this mansion just yet.

He cleans off the messy cushions—which consists of him wiping them down with a wad of tissues before flipping them over—and plops himself down right in the center. He pulls on his pants and slips on his boots, before tossing you that old hoodie of his that still smells like smoke. You pull it over your head, mindful of the bandages on your hips, and try not to think of how dangerously low his pants are resting on his hips.

He reclines back against the arm, kicking his legs up and pulling you down on his chest once more. You’re straddling his hips again, wearing nothing but his old hoodie, your face pressed against his scarred chest.

“…Wish I had a cigarette right now.”

You stifle a laugh, reach into the pocket of the hoodie, and hold out a little white package to him. His eyes go wide for a moment, before he tugs it from your grasp and gives you one of those all-knowing smirks.

“Aww, how did you know? And these are my favorite, doll.”

You shrug and snuggle deeper into his chest. “Thought you’d want one or two so I brought ‘em with me.”

He slips the little stick between his lips and wiggles his eyebrows. “So that’s why you came here—I was right after all, huh?”

“As if, fuckin’ pervert. It’s not my fault you only wanna smoke after sex.”

He lets out a chuckle, lifting a blue-tipped finger to the end of the stick. Your eyes follow the tiny flame, the gorgeous hue of its sparks, the gentle wisps that coil into the air, before it vanishes with a quick wave of his hand.

A comfortable silence stretches over the two of you. Your gaze wanders up to the window above, revealing the pale half-moon behind the dark clouds. You wonder what time it is… But then you realize it doesn’t matter and press your face against the ragged skin of his neck. It’s just you and him for now, nothing else matters right now. The whole world could burn to ashes and you wouldn’t care—because you have the man you love wrapped up in your arms.

“Tell me,” he finally rasps, stubbing out his cigarette with his thumb. A blue wisp of flame engulfs the little stick, and seconds later he’s dusting the ash off his hand and onto the floor below. “Did you mean it? What you said earlier?”

Oh, I guess we’re back to this.

You lean up against his chest, chin propped up on your palm, to find him staring up at the dirty ceiling above. His fingers drum along the small of your back, the heel of his boot thumping against the arm at a gentle rhythm. He doesn’t meet your eyes, even when you start to speak.

“You know I meant it. Every single word. I promise. I’m not gonna leave you alone, no matter how much you push me away. And I’ll keep saying it until I’m blue in the face, you got it?”

When he still doesn’t look at you, you reach up and brush the backs of your fingers over the line of staples in his cheek. He lets out a sigh before catching your hand in his own and bringing it up to his face. And it’s hard to ignore the ache in your chest when he kisses your fingers and knuckles, one by one, before stopping right at the center of your palm.

Suddenly those blue eyes are burning right through you, and the whole world seems to vanish around you.

“Stay with me.”

You nod at once. “I will.”

“Say you love me.”

“I love you—so fucking much—I love you, I love you…”

I love you.

He’s kissing you now, mismatched lips tracing over your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere they can possibly reach. You twist your fingers into his hair and hold him close to your chest.

Nothing else matters. It’s just the two of you in this little mansion in the middle of the forest, the only ones who matter in this world. No heroes, no villains, no secrets, no lies. Just you and Touya, and for now that’s all you need.

Even if he never says those three simple words back to you.

“Touya—” But then he’s kissing you again, and you’re giggling uncontrollably against his mouth.

I’ve got you. I’ll stay with you for as long as you’ll have me. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll patch up your wounds, and I’ll—

“Hey, stop! That tickles!” But he keeps on nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Touya, come on, you’re—”

That’s when you feel it, hard and insistent, pressing against your inner thigh. He only smirks and licks his lips.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Mm, I’ve been called worse, doll.” He slides a hand down to your hips, caressing the bandages, the burn marks seared into your skin. “Promise I’ll be gentle.” He kisses you again, slowly this time, as he trails his hand down just a bit lower.

It’s not perfect, the relationship you have (if it can even be called that). There’s tears, blood, burns, nightmares, and you know it’ll only get worse from here on out. What Touya’s decided to do with his life, and how he plans to leave his mark on the world—it still leaves your stomach rolling and your throat burning with tears. But beneath all the words and scars and flames, you know he’s hurting inside. And you’ll be damned if you let him suffer through this ordeal all alone.

You’re in love with him—everything that makes him the man he is. No matter how much he’s hurting, how often he thinks of himself as a failure. You’re determined to give him everything you have, in hopes one day he’ll do the same for you. To wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest and press a thousand kisses against his skin. To let him know he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

That you’re here for him; that you’ll stay with him, no matter what may happen in the future.

So that’s why you only laugh as he lays you back down across his chest, his fingers weaving through your hair, careful not to get any of it caught on the staples of his palms. There’ll be another time for conversations like those. For now you can lose yourselves in each other, hand in hand, with the warm glow of the blue flames casting over you.  

[nataliepruitts]

Our Precious Gem | Possessive!Bully! Tomura, Touya, & Kai x Reader

I've been obsessed with My Hero Academia lately and I just love these guys, especially Shigaraki and Dabi. I recently read a story about four guys who suddenly became very possessive over the girl they were bullying and I got the idea for this story. I couldn't finish it because it was one of those things where you could only read the first few chapters and had to pay for the rest or something, but I decided to come up with my own story and used these three.

Also, before we get started I should note that there will be mentions of domestic abuse in this story because you live with your father who is a violent drunk. I will give warnings in the chapters that talk about it. There is a slight mention of it in this chapter. But anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

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Chapter 1

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The town you live in is split up into two sections, the section you live in is the bad section that Shigaraki, the Hassaikai, and the Todoroki clan rule. The three work together to rule over the terrain and keep order. They are top dogs and nobody would dare to go against them in any way, what they say is law.

Unfortunately, that also applies to the three boys that came from each clan. Tomura Shigaraki, Touya Todoroki, and Kai Chisaki. The three have been given freedom to do whatever they please, in any school they go to they are the rulers, all of the school staff and students are scared to say anything against them, they have free reign over anything they want. If they want to beat up or kill someone? Everyone turns a blind eye. If they want to steal your lunch? Nobody saw anything.

These three are also the same boys who have been bullying you since grade school, you never understood why. Ever since they first met you all they did was tease and bully you, but despite that, you still showed them kindness when they each had a traumatic event happen in their lives. The three of them always hung out and had each other's backs, and that stayed true when they each went through something horrible, but you were also there for them.

When Tomura, whose name was Tenko at the time, lost his whole family in a break-in, you hugged him. When he got adopted by Shigaraki and his name changed to Tomura Shigaraki, you tried to be there for him, even though he always pushed you away and kept bullying you.

When Touya got caught in a housefire and his whole body got burned, he started becoming very self-conscious and you tried to cheer him up. His mom was the one who started the fire in one of her severe mental breakdowns, she was sent to the hospital to get help. Touya knew his father was to blame for his mom's mental breakdown because he kept abusing her both mentally and physically, and he came to despise his father for it. You tried to comfort him but, like Tomura, he kept pushing you away. When he got older, the hatred he felt for his father made him run away from home and go live with Shigaraki, and he's never gone back.

When Kai's parents were killed in a turf war the leader of the Hassaikai took him in and raised him. When you found out about his parents you gave him a comforting hug, but again, you were pushed away. For some reason, the three boys hated your guts from the moment they met you, they grew to hate all of society and everyone they came into contact with -except for each other and their families- but they seem to hate you even more.

They continue to bully you throughout grade school, into middle school, and high school. But starting in middle school you started seeing a different side to them every so often, a side that made it look like they cared about you. There was one time in your third year of middle school when you guys were outside playing a sport as part of the extracurricular activity you had to do at school, and one of the other students ended up hurting you.

The three of them came running over to you with actual looks of concern on their faces before they brushed it off and started laughing and making fun of you. The next day you find out that the kid who accidentally hurt you was in the hospital after being beaten to an inch of his life, it surprised you, and you couldn't think of who would hurt him that badly or the reason why.

When it came time to choose what high school you were going to, you discovered which high school your bullies were going to so you could choose a different high school. You wanted to make sure your high school years were free from them, you wanted to be able to make friends and have a good high school life, despite your horrible home life.

You live with your father who is a violent drunk, he's always drinking, always getting drunk, and always being violent. Those are the reasons why your mom left, she couldn't put up with him anymore. But unfortunately for you, that was what triggered him to become even more violent. You tried to look at school as a way to escape from that but those three always made it difficult. You never had any friends thanks to them, none of the other students even wanted to associate with you because they made sure nobody would talk to you. They made your life even more hell than it already was.

But when you started high school you felt like you finally had an escape, you were finally free from them and free to make friends, and you did. Everything was going smoothly…

Until the third day of school…

When you walk into your first classroom your heart drops. In front of you are Tomura Shigaraki, Touya Todoroki, and Kai Chisaki, talking to your teacher. You're frozen in place, this can't be happening. They can't be here. You must be having a nightmare right now. There is no way they just transferred themselves to this high school.

"Y/n, you arrived at just the right time," your teacher speaks up after seeing you standing at the door. "These three young men here say that they know you and have requested that they sit beside you during class. But of course, you three can sit anywhere you like."

You stared at the three boys in disbelief as your mind was still trying to grasp the fact that they were here at this school. When they looked at you, you noticed how their eyes lit up as a devilish smirk formed on their faces, you can't fully see Kai's face because of the face mask he likes to wear, but you get the feeling he has the same smirk Tomura and Touya has. The look in their eyes makes you uneasy as they stare you down, completely ignoring the teacher.

You try to ignore them as you finally move your body and walk over to your seat, but before you can sit down Tomura grabs your arm and drags you to the back of the classroom. Touya and Kai make four students move from their desks before pushing the four desks together in the back of the classroom.

"You chose a different high school?" Tomura hissed in your ear, "Did you seriously think that you could get away from us by going to a different school? That was so dumb…"

XXXXXXXXXX

When Tomura, Touya, and Kai started their first day of high school they expected to see you there, you were supposed to be there. They looked all over the school for you and couldn't find you anywhere, they were beyond pissed.

They bust into the principal's office, scaring the poor guy in the process. First, he was startled by them busting through the door almost tearing it off its hinges, then he was terrified by how mad they looked. "WHERE IS SHE!?" Kai shouted as the desperation to find you grew stronger and stronger in all three of them. The way they see it, you're not allowed to be at a different school than the one they’re at, you have to be at the same school as them. You cannot get away from them, they won't allow it.

"Where is who?" The principal asked confused.

"Y/n L/n, where is she!?" Tomura responded.

"There's no Y/n L/n at this school."

Their hearts raced, hearing that you weren't at that school was sending them over the edge. They got so caught up in their own stuff as they got ready to leave middle school and transition to high school, the three of them were also dealing with family business, especially during the mini-break they had before starting high school. They got so wrapped up in everything that they forgot to see which high school you were going to, it didn't once cross their minds to make sure you went to the same high school they chose.

You always ended up going to the same school they were going to so they just assumed you would choose the same high school they did. They didn't think that you would actually use your head and figure out which high school they were going to so you would choose a different one. They thought they had a tight hold on you but you actually managed to slip through their fingers.

The principal cowered underneath his desk as the three boys tore up his office in a fit of rage, they can't believe they gave you a chance to slip through their fingers and escape them. "SHE CHOSE ANOTHER FUCKING SCHOOL!!" Touya shouted as he threw a chair at one of the windows, the other staff in the office had to take cover so they wouldn't get hit with anything.

"Let's get out of here," Kai says before storming out of the office. Tomura and Touya were hot on his heels as they made their way to the exit.

"The bitch really thought she could escape us by going to another school," Tomura says as he flexes his hands. When they find you they're gonna make sure you never slip through their fingers again.

They waited impatiently for the report on which high school you chose to go to, it took a couple of hours but they finally got it. They looked at the name of the high school, it's a school they would have never considered going to themselves which made it a clever choice for you. But knowing that you're at this school there was no hesitation in getting themselves transferred to it. They found out which classes you were taking and made sure they were put in the same ones.

The moment they heard the teacher say your name and they looked over to see you standing at the doorway, they felt a sense of relief wash over them. Their hearts pounded in their chests as they looked at your beautiful face, you're finally back in their grasp and they won't ever give you a chance to slip away again.

[linkspooky]

My Hero Academia, Chapter 374 Thoughts. 

Why did the tide turn in the battle, just when Deku was about to finish off a ShigAfo who was well past his limit. Well, it was because Spinner managed to wake up Kurogiri, therefore teleporting all of the villains to the same battlefield sabotaging the hero’s strategy to keep them separate and finish them off individually. However, there are deeper thematic reasons beyond just the strategic aspects of the battle. The villains triumph when the heroes refuse to fix or face their mistakes, so how appropriate the last page of the chapter is Dabi and Twice facing two heroes who don’t want to own up to their mistakes?

1. Endeavor and Hawks. 

There is a lot that can be said about Endeavor and Hawks, but I think for the sake of directness rather than delving into their backstory and motivations, it’s more appropriate to focus in on why they haven’t changed.   

Before I being though let me explain personal narrative. Narrative is well.. you know... a story. It is how a series of events are told. There are different kinds of ways narrative are written up, for example first person is told as a limited personal account from a single narrator using “I”. In third person the perspective is told from outside of the characters. There are even differences in third person, third person limited can still be told in one character’s limited perspective so they are not privvy to the thoughts and motivations of another character, whereas third person omniscient can randomly jump around into anyone’s heads. 

All of this to say is that narrative is telling a story, so one step ahead personal narrative would be like a first person narrative, or a third person limited... it is the story as told in the character’s own head. Oftentimes however, this personal narrative they have will be different from the objective events that are happening in the story. 

There’s one thing you should always remember when reading a story, “Characters are liars.” There is text, which is the things either they through internal or external dialogue, or the narrative through prose blatantly say and then there is subtext the underlying theme or implications and you have to consider both when reading. 

In other words, Endeavor and Hawks are liars. The internal monologues inside their own heads, often disagree with the reality of their actions. Many times viewers have commented they seem out of touch with the reality around them and this is caused by them being so wrapped up in their personal narratives they can’t see what is happening around them. ANd in doing so, they ignore the feelings of the people around them. I think AFO, as awful as he is, makes some good points sometimes. 

I’ve said as much in previous metas, but the heroes as a whole tend to dismiss or even outright ignore the feelings of the villains they are facing, even when villains make honest attempts to communciate why they are doing what they’re doing. When AFO is making that speech, who shows up but Dabi and Twice, the two people that Endeavor and Hawks ignored the personal feelings of. 

Toya, was created by the Todoroki Family at the behest of Endeavor ignoring his feelings until they exploded out of him accidentally starting a fire and burning him to death, Twice’s return was facilitated by Hawks coldly stabbing him in the back because Twice did not accept his offer to betray his friends for a chance at rehabilitation. Something which also trampled all over Twice’s personal feelings of affection and desire to protect his loved ones, by asking him to do something he would never do. 

Hawks and Enji also have character arcs that have basically ground to a halt, ever since the first War Arc. Hawks reaction this chapter is pretty much proof of this, when he is faced with his failure to help rehabilitate Hawks his only reaction is “Just kill him again” which is exactly what he had done in the war arc. This is what I mean by character stagnation, characters refusing to grow or learn over time and instead making the same decisions over and over. 

In Enji’s case the reason is much clearer, because we spend more time in his head than we do Hawks. It is a common criticism that has been levvied against Enji’s “redemption” since the start. Enji’s redemption really isn’t about doing what is best for the feelings of his victims, but rather Enji is always focused on himself, he doesn’t want to be a better father, he wants to be a better hero. He doesn’t want to help ease the pain of his victims, but rather the guilt he feels over it. Nowhere is this best exampled then his own internal monologue. Enji has a single moment where he might have let things be about his sons and not him for once. 

But, then it immediately centers on himself. For the most part, Enji seems to truly be upset not about the people he hurt, but rather he’s lamenting the fact his life has gone so wrong that he has to feel guilt in the first place. I think this is central to Enji’s stagnation and the lack of overall progress in Enji’s arc, he still doesn’t really think he did anything wrong. 

Or rather. Look at hos he frames Toya’s funeral portrait a “Mistake.” He also repeats the same thing when he tries to talk to Natsuo. He says that he was never trying to neglect any of them. Which is, you know, a blatant lie if there ever was one. Toya calls himself a failure, because Enji literally referred to him and his brother and sister as a failure. We’re shown the flashback where he was kept away from his brother and sisters multiple times. He literally chose to treat three of his children like they didn’t exist, and not even let the youngest talk to them and he can’t own up to the fact afterwards. 

And, this once again ties back to personal narrative. Enji believes, and this has been the problem with him since the Pro Hero Arc that his true problem is that he wasn’t a good enough hero. A lot of people didn’t like the sudden inclusion of Enji’s backstory, but it makes sense to some extent, Enji’s regret is his father wasn’t strong enough to protect an innocent girl from a villain and died when he was young, therefore becoming the strongest hero makes it so he can never die and abandon his family the way his father did. Except. He does abandon his family. 

Enji can’t face what he has done wrong, because of his self-justification. He is a hero, and therefore he always has good intentions, and he can’t be the villain even when his own actions would make him one. Enji is on such an insane level of sunk cost fallacy, that in his mind, after the death of one son continuing to abuse another son is justifiable because otherwise he quite literally let one son die for nothing.

And, it’s this refusal to even face the fact that he can be wrong, which is why Enji ignores the feelings of everyone around him, and generally lets things fall into ruin. All Enji had to do was show up on that hill the day Toya burned to death, but something so small as lifting a finger is just impossible to Enji who cannot confront his own flaws, or even think of himself as the bad guy in any way.

Which is where we get a common trend between both Hawks and Endeavor, in which, they do not want to face the feelings or even the memories of their victims. In the Todofam dinner arc Enji tells the funeral portrait of Toya he wants him to come home and have dinner, but when he has the oppurtunity for that he won’t even face him and talk to him. Toya is just so much more convenient to face when he is a regretful memory, a mistake on Enji’s part, because then Enji is completely in control of the narrative. He barely thinks of Toya at all, and when he does it’s almost entirely on his own terms. 

Toya even comments on this, that he was always running and crying to Natsuo and Enji didn’t even know because he didn’t care to know. We have this same behavior repeated in Hawks. Hawks is really only comfortable seeing himself as the good guy. 

@thyandrawrites​ wrote two meta in regards to Hawks I want to reference now. This one on how Hawks thinks he has to continually justify his existence by acting as a support and helping others, and this one how Hawks in turn dodges responsibility when it comes to light he’s not the good guy. 

Hawks is someone a lot more complicated than Enji, because he’s not selfish, and he doesn’t really hurt others for self-gain. If Enji is a black hole, then Hawks is more like a sattelite. He does everything, including dirtying his own hands for the sake of others, and a greater good he likes to believe he is serving rather than for himself. In fact, it often comes at expense of himself, as Hawks has no real life, or friends or place in the world outside of being a hero. 

While he is different in intention than Enji, however, I believe it’s still right to call him out on basically everything he does to avoid guilt after the fact. “Doing dirty things for the sake of the greater good” is one thing, but Hawks in total denial of his actions can’t even see himself as dirty. Which once again we return to personal narrative, Hawks’ personal narrative and his self perception trumps everything, even the feelings of other people he is stomping on. 

To quote Thy on this: 

So this brings us to the present arc. Right after a raid that failed largely because Hawks wasn’t able to warn the heroes of the threat they were about to face, Hawks reacts by shutting down. If his existence is defined by how helpful he is, it goes without saying that he cannot accept being responsible for the huge death toll resulting from the failed ambush. So we witness Hawks not thinking critically at all about his share of responsibilities. He doesn’t think about what it meant to kill Twice.

This was the post-apocalyptic scenario that Hawks envisioned and wanted to avoid, the scenario he killed Twice in order to avoid. But it still happened, and yet we don’t see him reflect on it at all. What he does instead is clinging to something that gave him a sense of purpose before.

Being a tool instrumental to other people’s success.

Which in a way means that the same character stagnation that is present in Endeavor is there for Hawks as well. He has not changed in any significant way since his introduction in the Pro Hero Arc, effectively holding the same beliefs and making the same decisions as he did back then. That he needs to uplift Enji as a hero, and his own personal hero, even after learning the truth of who Enji was. 

And, we have this same guilt-avoidance mechanism that is at the root of Hawks’ stagnation the same way it is with Enji’s. Hawks practically does the same thing that Enji does to Toya with Twice, despite literally murdering him with his own hands, instead of taking responsibility for his own actions, or even I don’t know... at the bare minimum... feeling sorry about it, he chooses to remember Twice as an idealized memory, compartmented into a neat little box in a way that’s very flattering to Twice. 

It’s not “I killed Twice and I regret it” it’s “I want to learn from Twice and be helpful just like he was.” 

In doing so he belittles and ignores not only Twice’s feelings, but also his entire memory. Hawks and Enji both kind of want to believe their own internal narration that deep down they are good people, and their intentions and actions are those of a good person, and therefore everything they might have done wrong along the way is just a mistake or a slip-up on the road. Hawks always returns to the memory of him selflessly helping the people on the bus, because he wasnts to believe who he is at heart, but that’s also not how he is. 

They have no identity outside of being heroes, and yes it’s tragic to think they would crumple if ever faced with or trying to process the feelings they outright ignore, and also doubly tragic in Hawks case that he was groomed to feel that way by hero society at large from a young age, I also think it’s important to look at the cost of their actions. Hawks and Enji actively harm people, and get away with it with a slap on the wrist, and because of that they don’t reflect or change on their actions and they continue their bad behavior. 

It’s important to remember in Toya’s backstory, if Enji had just stopped and given up on his abuse of Shoto after Toya died, then Dabi would never have come about, and Toya would have come home. It’s this subtle escalation that happens when Enji is not confronted about his actions, and even enabled by the people around him to keep doing his bad behavior, it gets worse and worse over time. 

The whole point of the Todoroki household is that it didn’t have to get as bad as it did, but it happened because no one tried to stop Enji, and Enji was so good at self-justification he didn’t try to stop. Which is why I want to point out, it’s not just harmful for Hawks himself, it doesn’t just stunt his growth as a person, it’s extremely harmful to the people around him, because he cannot admit his mistakes and he cannot grow for them and so therefore inevitably he will repeat them again. In fact Hawks has gotten worse in some ways, which is where I want to reference Thy again.

Hawks even outright plays the victim. He’s not doing a public apology through a press conference because his personal ethics tells him it’s the right thing to do. He’s doing it because he knows it’s expected of him, which just isn’t the mindframe of someone who understood the gravity of his actions. From his phrasing, we can parse that he thinks that heroes like the top three are being put under scrutiny for no good reason, and like this is a test of his own endurance, when it should be a matter of proving his good faith. Hawks just killed a man who was running away, and he’s acting like it’s unfair that the world is holding him accountable for it.

The reason why Hawks thinks that society turned on him is because he justified Twice’s extrajudicial killing to himself as something he was doing to protect that same society that is now ungrateful for his personal sacrifice.

Hawks own motive of doing everything for the greater public good has been corrupted, because his killing of Twice did not give him the validation he was seeking. Which reveals once again, Hawks is not entirely selfless, just like a person he wants validation, he wants encouragement, he doesn’t do everything for the sake of the greater good. If he really believed his own personal narrative that he can sacrifice himself and others for the greater good and get his hands dirty and it will all be justified in the end, he wouldn’t be pouting because people criticized him. 

There’s a certain fragility to the ego of both Hawks and Endeavor where they can’t really accept any outsiders perspective on their actions at all, because everything has to be in line with their narrative, their own personal hero stories. 

Everyone talks about the differences between Nagant and Hawks, but there is one new angle I would like to bring in. Perspective. 

In the end what stopped Nagant from blindly following orders was her seeing her own self as dirty, after doing the dirty works of others. Nagant accepted the guilt of murder, and realized in comparison to the ideal way that the kids she was signing autographs for her saw her, she wasn’t living up to the hero they saw. 

Nagant was able to divorce herself from her own self image, and because of that she actually changed and took action against the corruption of the hero’s council. Lad Nagant if anything is capable of change in a way that Hawks isn’t, because Hawks can’t perceive any fault in his own self.

“I am optimistic to a fault.” almost quite literally in this case. When he is confronted with the reality of who Endeavor is he prefers to choose the image of a hero he saw as a child, and on the way he actively enables Endeavor to keep doing wrong by his abuse victims. Of course he says Endeavor is living to atone, but Hawks essentially advocates for doing what is worst to Toya which is ignoring Toya entirely, and on top of that making Shoto fight against him for Enji’s convenience. 

He remembers Twice in a positive light as someone who was helpful and wants to be like him, but when faced with a Twice who returned from the dead just wants to murder him again. Nagant says, the public gets to stargaze at the bright and shiny side, while the dark truth gnaws away from someone else.

And this, I think is key to understanding why Hawks mental spiral is so harmful because it doesn’t just harm himself, other people are always going to get hurt too so Hawks can maintain his fragile ego and sense of self. Hawks may be a brave hero able to courageously risk his life but at the same time he is an emotional coward, he cannot face himself or his own emotions or even when he does something wrong simply because he is too scared to.

And, yes the villains do this too but they at least at the bare minimum do not think they are good people.