#endeavor fluff

[fluff-n-cookies]

Endeavor - Intro/Headcanons

Endeavor is a very underrated character.

yes he was an abuser, but he is trying to be a better father. and even though hen still gets mad and doesn't really know how to show his emotions he's still trying. As someone who doesn't have the best relationship with her father, and also as some one who is trying to be a better person I can appreciate that.

I feel like if somebody were to give him a chance, somebody that has little to no knowledge of his past or status he could actually have a stable and healthy relationship with such a person.

but that on it's own is boring so make it a reader who was just recently put in an orphanage as she was saved from her neglectful parents and has no other family. we'll keep her around the age of 4-15 as those were the years that endeavor missed the most with his kids.

now, how would these two meet? I have a couple ideas and I'll write a fanfic (or fanfics) for the most popular one. (there's a poll below for y'all to decide.)

option 1 : Bus stop

reader is around 5,6,7 years old and quirkless.

so you and Endeavor have a similar morning commute at the same bus stop, at the same time, every morning. you go to school, and him to his agency. and while Endeavor never really cared for this, one morning you happen to forget your coat at the orphanage. (not that it kept you warm anyway.) the sight of a child in winter, cold and alone, practically pulled at his heart strings. a feeling overcame him I suppose, a need to protect and provide perhaps. and begrudgingly he got out a sweater, all warm and fluffy and lent it to you, grumbling something about giving it back to him later. now all snuggled up within the oversized cotton fibers of the sweater, warm and happy, all you could really do is mumble out a little thank you. Imma bout' to pull a grinch but Endeavor's heart grew 3 times that day.

Option 2 : support hero

reader is 15 and quirkless but uses support items to help her if she needs anything.

you are the apprentice of his main support hero, a wild, spunky woman who spends her days drinking, drunk, or hungover. ( I mean... good for her.) and yes while she does teach you, she usaully leaves all the real work to you. at this point she's your apprentice. so when Endeavor comes it's not her that really helps it's you! you repair, you improve, you operate the rest of the support heroes, honestly he should give you a raise. and it's nice, having you around I mean, you just always seem to make his day better, either by showing him cat memes, or explaining your latest obsession to him, or just being your self. it's a talkative and optimistic x furious monster that will fight to the death for them dynamic or a brings instant noodles to share for lunch x uses his fire quirk to actually cook the instant noodles with his fire quirk dynamic.

Option 3 : Dabi

more of a Endeavor-Dabi mix for the drama. reader is 4 and gets her quirk in the story. her quirk is a heightened version of shoto's quirk which I'll expand on if this is the fan favorite.

you are the product of Dabi and a fling he had when he was 19 or 20, and while he may not have the most money or have the money, he still tires to protect you and and make you feel as cherished and loved as one can. growing up he never really showed you what a hero was. all you need to know is that they are not good people but don't tell anyone that lots of people don't know that and might get angry. now this is fine and all, Dabi protects your innocence while also protecting you from the world that hurt him. but one thing he negelcted to teach you is who is a hero. because the description he gave you "people attempting to 'save' people and fight 'bad guys' using their quirks often with swarms of people around them." only applies to heros in action and/or heros that the public actually like. so when Endeavor is placed to patrol in a relatively bad neighbourhood (it's the best one dabi could afford HE"S TRYING C"MON) around the time kids go and comeback from school to make sure they get home safe is when he meets you. a little girl with white hair like snow and sapphire blue eyes that glisten with joy.

POLLS!!!

thx for reading!!! byyeee.

[saiyanmyname]

I don't know if you do asks but I can you do Endeavor x reader Omegaverses... fluff with the Todoroki family?! no fights, mean remarks do slip but mama reader is a sensitive omega ^w^

Oooh! Omegaverse has been on my list for some time now. Big soft Alpha Enji doting for his precious omega 🤌 yes please! I’m not the fastest writer but will get something written for this 😊

And here it is (this is my first time writing Omegaverse so sorry if anything is incorrect).

It was a soft sort of Sunday. Awakening beneath the warmth of the covers. You inhaled deeply, the scent of your alpha, still coating the sheets and hanging like warm cinnamon bread in the air of your shared bedroom. You turn, swinging your legs out from the heat, the air is cool. You need your Alpha, need his warmth. You get up, legs a little sore, you guess your heat must have been rougher than usual. You’re just glad Enji was there, to look after you through it.

You make your way to the top of the stairs, leaning on the sweeping banister. You can hear Fuyumi bickering with Shoto, giving him a lecture on the importance of schoolwork, she really was becoming a good schoolteacher. There’s electronic music, in the background, Toya and Natsuo are playing some video game together, you hear them descending into fits of laughter.

Then, there he is. Looking up a you, from the bottom of the stair case, with a tray of breakfast. He’s glad to see you’re awake, eyes gleaming softly like the morning sky, lips gentle, smiling.

“I was just wondering whether to wake you.” He says as you descend towards him.

He closes his eyes as you approach him, inhaling the sweetness of your scent. From the moment he met you, he knew he’d have to knot you. You’re enough to send him straight back into a rut, but he knows he has to be patient for now. Wait for you to recover a little at least. He looks at you knowingly as he leans down to kiss you. A taste that almost instantly makes you a mess of need and want all at once.

“I thought you’d still be tired out…” He teases. “That was… a tough heat.” He says low against your ear so you feel his breath against you skin. Enji can’t help but wonder what it is you do to him, his gentle omega.

“Yeah! We heard… literally everything.”

You didn’t know anyone had approached the pair of you, standing in the corridor, you’d been too lost in your Alpha’s eyes to notice Toya standing there, leant against the wall with a grin that knew far too much.

You couldn’t help but blush, leaning into the thick bicep of Enji who stood, still holding the tray.

“Less of that.” Enji snapped, tone protective, stepping in front of you. “I thought you were playing Street Fighter with Nat anyway?” Enji continues, trying to get rid of the adolescent nuisance.

“I was but…” Toya raises his voice. “SOMEONE’S A SORE LOSER!” He teases his younger brother. Natsuo replies with curses making Fuyumi tell him off. You couldn’t help but smirk a little.

It was strange, how you’d become their adopted mama. You hadn’t been his first omega, in fact, he rarely spoke of her. All you knew was that she’d left, leaving the Alpha with four children and a chaotic house to run.

You make your way to the dining room, following close to Enji, he’s so big, so warm and there’s just something so reassuring about him. The way his scent drifts like candles and burned sugar through the hallway.

Enji sets the warm food down at the table for you. Did he tidy that up this morning or did the kids do it? You could have sworn the dining room was a mess of amazon boxes and paperwork last night, but you were too tired to clean it up. Fresh flowers were now at the centre of it, your favourite blossoms.

“Enji, did you?” You ask, grabbing the cup of hot beverage also set in front of you.

“I know they’re you’re favourite.” He answers, kissing you on the cheek, grabbing a plate from the rack and drying it up.

“I know they’re your favourite.” You hear a mock low voice coming from outside the kitchen door. “Can you guys be anymore gross? By the way can Deku and Kachan come over later?” It’s Shoto. He continues, opening the fridge to take out a can of pop, but his father stops him from closing it.

Was it really gross? You felt a little self-conscious, it must be awkward for them, to have a strange omega in the household. A strange scent around the place they called their home.

Enji knew you well though, noticed the pout on your bottom lip, the eyes that cast away from him and down towards your plate.

“Apologise and I’ll think about it.” He demanded to his son.

Shoto looked at you, knowing from his father’s tone that he’d done wrong. Actually, he felt kind of bad, he was only teasing, he didn’t know it would upset you. Since their birth mother had left, you’d been so good to all of them, always making time for them, something his father hadn’t always been so good at, but since he’d met you, he was getting better at it.

“I’m sorry.” The teenager apologised sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” You replied, you could see he really did mean it. “You should invite them over, I’ll make those brownies you guys like later.” That perked him up, as he raced out of the kitchen with a smile, hurrying away from the, still angered, face of Endeavor.

The day went on a softly as it started, it was nice to be in this house, it was nice to feel part of a family. By evening you found yourself exhausted, having made the brownies you’d promised the boys, watching the three of them scoff them down, even though Endeavor told them not to eat them while they were still warm.

It was late, by the time that you’d finally got some peace, snuggling under a blanket on the comfort of the giant sofa, nuzzling into your Alpha’s chest while you caught up on some TV. Large fingers ran through your hair, enjoying the texture against his skin, the warmth of your body against his.

“I hope you feel at home here.” He said softly, pulling you closer, grazing his lips across your forehead. Eyes showing a little worry. More than anything, he wanted you to feel safe here.

You smiled, leaning into him closer.

“Of course I do. I love being around you, and your family.”

“Good.” He replies. “They’re your family too now though, since we’re knotted.”

You kiss along his jaw, leaning up in his arms.

“I know… I’m happy here, happier than I’ve been anywhere else.”

Enji leans down, nuzzling you against his face. “Hmm.” He grunts contentedly, the feel of his omega in his arms lulling him into a trance. “Me too.”

[ominouspuff]

Kote’s House

Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.

The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about. 

His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.

He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.

He tries to explain how wonderful it is —

“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”

—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.

Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.

Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.

“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.

“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.

He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids. 

They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time. 

Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?

Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical. 

“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.

Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.

Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.

“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept). 

“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”

Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”

Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.

He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are. 

What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.

Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.

Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that. 

He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.

“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him. 

“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.

He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill. 

“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving. 

Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.

[zeke-best]

He really is the hero of this family…

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ Baking a cake with them

❖ Characters: various mha characters

❖ Reader: genderneutral

❖ Summary: just a little fun in the kitchen, baking a cake

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi!

Has an oddly specific request of what cake they want but can't bake to save their life so that's why they invite you. You're so aware of the fact that they can't bake and tease them about it. They stand in the kitchen with the spatula in hand and a grin, calling it “helping you”. At least they keep out of your feet.

꒰ ͜͡➸ Toshinori Yagi (All Might), Eijiro Kirishima, Mina Ashido, Tenya Iida, Dabi (reminds him of his childhood), Rumi Usagiyama (Mirko), Kyōka Jirō, Ochaco Uraraka

Hyperactive little creatures. SO stoked you bake a cake with them? They will most likely drop everything they get into their hands but apologize profoundly while cleaning up. You guys really need to get new eggs because they dropped the whole package </3 But they just really wanna help! The cake also looks like a mess but it tastes heavenly.

꒰ ͜͡➸ Izuku Midoriya, Keigo Takami (Hawks), Denki Kaminari, Himiko Toga, Nejire Hado, Mirio Togata, Tamaki Amajiki (nervous wreck), Jin Bubaigawara (Twice)

Doesn't wanna bake a cake but you lured them into the kitchen and kinda locked them in there with you. They will just sit on the counter and hand you the ingredients, pouting a whole lot. Please hand them the bowl with the dough once you're done - they're really just there to eat dough and later the cake, no interest in the making process.

꒰ ͜͡➸ Natsuo Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugo, Hanta Sero, Nemuri Kayama (Midnight), Minoru Mineta, Shota Aizawa, Tomura Shigaraki, Enji Todoroki, Kai Chisaki, Shoto Todoroki

They were the one to actually come up to you first, almost begging you to help them and who are you to say no? They made most of the cake, which was a super fancy multi layer one by the way. You really tried helping decorate it but it looked ridiculous next to their absolute perfection so you opted for watching and eating.

꒰ ͜͡➸ Rikido Sato, Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic), Hitoshi Shinsou, Momo Yaoyorozu, Fumikage Tokoyami, Fuyumi Todoroki, Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fat Gum)

Network: @snowsnetwork

[thehusbandoden]

MHA boys reacting to you torturing an Endeavor plushy.

(Izuku, Bakugou, Shoto, Hawks, and Dabi).

Umm yeah I don't know what happened.. lol can't ensure the quality, but they're all pretty short.

Giggling evily, you stabbed the other arm savagely. Taking a moment to twist the needle around, you admired your work. The Endeavor plushy had stuffing spilt out along his legs, arms and crotch. The weapon that caused such destruction was still in-between your thumb and index finger as you continued to poke holes throughout the plushy's body, making sure not to end his life.. yet. As you move to make the killing blow, you heard the door open.

Midoriya Izuku:

As the door opened, you turned to see your boyfriend: Izuku. Glancing at the time, you realized that it was already study time. "B-B-Baby?!" Izuku squeaked, eyeing the torn up plushy under needle point. "Oh! Hey Zuku! I'll be done in a minute! Ooh or I'll let him slowly bleed out!" You giggle, eyeing the plushy with disgust. "W-what are you doing to Endeavor san?" Izuku asked nervously, awkwardly sitting on the edge of your bed. "Making him pay. Todoroki san told me about him.. and he fired my (parent/guardian)." "O-oh.." "Would you like to try!?" "N-no thanks.. in fact... I'll see you tomorrow.. I'm gonna go.." I nodded, giving Izuku a smile before getting back to mercilessly murdering the scumbag.

Bakugou Katsuki:

"What are you doing." Bakugou grumbled, crimson eyes focused on the torn up doll on the ground. "Oh! Hey I'm just working on some hobbies while I wait for you." You reply, acting like it was completely normal. "What the actual f-" "Shh just be quiet about it! Let's start, I need to help you with your math!" "(Y/n). I'm the one helping you." "Pshh okay. We can say that."

Todoroki Shoto:

"Baby. This is unacceptable." I jumped at Shoto's disappointed voice. "But Shoto! He's a jerk!" "I'm very aware. But that doesn't excuse the fact that you were enjoying yourself without me." "Oh- Baby I'm so sorry! Here, let's burn all of his limbs off together." It took a few plushies to satisfy Shoto's hunger for vengeance, but we did get there.

Hawks: (🤣😂)

"(Y/N) (L/N)!" Hawks screeched, lunging toward the injured doll. "DON'T YOU DARE SAVE HIM! YOU HEARD WHAT THAT POOR BOY WENT THROUGH!" You yell, running away with the doll in your hands. "DO NOT KILL THAT DOLL." "I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!" "NOOOOOOOO!"

Yeah I have 0 idea what that was

Dabi:

I squeal as I feel strong arms encircle my waist, lifting me up. Turning my head, I giggled as I saw Dabi. "Dabi?" Dabi just sat down on our shared bed and pulled me into his lap. "Marry me." Dabi whispered, kissing my face lovingly. "W-what?" "Marry me." Dabi repeated, making it sound close to a command. Before I could even answer Dabi was sweetly pecking my lips over and over again.

Masterlist | Tips <3

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

[maroonswan]

Imagine forming a domestic routine with Enji Todoroki. Most nights he comes back late, and you awaken from your dreams to sound of his footsteps coming down the hall. You close your eyes drowsily as you map out his path through the house by the noises such a big gruff man makes when he gets home, when he's trying to get comfortable. From slapping his boots down by the door in the foyer to the soft shuffle of slippers against the living room floors into the kitchen where he rummages for a snack or drink; the squeak of the down stairs bathroom room door, a rushing faucet, and finally his trudge up the stairs.

You wonder if he much quieter on stealth missions; he might as well be a freight train! But, then the bedroom door silently swings open and you know he's here, eyeing you in the dark, checking if he's waken you. For his sake, you try to slow your breathing and still the smile that tickles at the corner of your lips.

He's loud, but he's sweet.

Yet, he's not stupid. Despite your attempts to pretend, he knows his delicately light sleeping wife is awake. Therefore, he doesn't need to feel guilty as he climbs on his side of the bed and scoops you in his arms, listening for you little "surprised" gasp. You do know how to tease him as you snuggle more comfortably into place, breathing in his musky scent and savoring the new warmth radiating from this wall of muscle. Your old man yawns out a goodnight with a quick kiss to your forehead before drifting off to sleep himself.

It means the world to you every time he comes home.

[frickingnerd]

endeavour with a sidekick who isn't intimidated by him

pairing: enji todoroki / endeavor x gn!reader

tags: fluff, platonic, pro hero/side kick

while endeavor had many sidekicks, he usually kept his distance from them – or rather, he tried to seem so intimidating that only very few of them were reckless enough to approach him

however, you weren't intimidated by that angry glare of his, nor by his aggressive attitude

you were an odd sidekick, because while everyone feared making eye contact with their boss, you just smiled at him as if you didn't fear him even a little bit

and when asked if you weren't intimidated by endeavor, you replied that you 'could never be intimidated by him', which got you the respect of all of your co-workers

even endeavor himself quickly became aware of how little you were intimidated by him, which led him to believe that you simply weren't respecting him

but that couldn't be further from the truth! 

you admired and respected him a lot! he was a great hero and he had always been your role model! 

endeavor had always hoped to keep his distance from his sidekicks, but it was quite refreshing to have someone like you around, who didn't seem to fear him

it even made him want to work with you more, since he felt like you were always being honest with him and didn't even fear to criticize him

and that was just the kind of person he needed!

[natsuosstuff]

Omg baby natsuo is so cute 😖🥺

[fatuismooches]

(Extending the Dottore sugar tax)

That one fatui chef who is half-decent in confectionery (specialises in rations/large batches of easy food): Becomes the saviour of half the platoon after learning how to make Sumerian desserts

But... one day Dottore has to find out, a lucky streak never lasts with him around, and he finds out in the worst way.

It happened during a meeting with Pantalone, with him haggling the banker to just increase the damn budget, give him five percent at least— you know what?! Twenty-eight percent actually for wasting his time like this! His projects are far more important than whatever capitalist endeavour Pantalone is stirring!

Then he drops it, with Dottore huffing, barely snipping back a snide comment and instead with a haughty simper, states that he knew what Pantalone has been doing these past few months: The whole sweets debacle? Ha! He figured that it had been the Regrator from the very beginning, how dare he think of him an easy fool? And if he really wanted a new device to sell, he should have been a proper business man and went to him directly instead of playing around with childish antics like sugar bribing.

And Pantalone, for the first-time since this meeting - falters, his beguiling smile twitching down for a moment as his brows furrowed.

Three ticks from the time-piece on the table, and Dottore's grin drops. Why does the banker look so... confused?

Then Pantalone hits the final nail on the coffin with a genuine question: "I have not, Doctor... You mean to tell me that it hadn't been you purchasing those shipments of sweets?"

And there they are, two confused Harbingers sitting around a tea party spread in silence, looking at each other blankly (coincidentally, Pantalone had set it up to ease Dottore's inevitable sour mood during their deal)

Thus begins the recounting, with them trading facts and comparing the timeline. Pantalone had noticed the uptake of sweets/ingredient imports from Sumeru a while ago, and that salaries of agents (especially the new recruits on Dottore's side) spend their pay checks on those orders. How did they know that he liked those?

The investigation commences, this is simply far too bizarre for the Doctor to leave alone. Cue in the poor recruits suddenly getting a vaguely veiled interrogation. They haven't done anything wrong, so they wouldn't be hurt. Maybe.

That's where Dottore is reminded of his... fanclub. He knew that they existed, he just didn't care for them. What caught his interest however are these Fatui handbooks that were edited to have unofficial rules. A good lead.

Hilariously though, the moment he got ahold of one - he doesn't even make it onto the first page. He just sees the title: Everything we know about our Lord Harbinger Il Dottore thus far [And his lover (name)] Version 78

He just stares at it... stares at a specific name, and with a defeated sigh, it all clicks together. Of course, of course it had been YOU.

Excuse him, he has to look beyond the windows of the palace for an hour at least, to watch the snowfall of the eternal winter as he ponders on how the FUCK did he not figure that out sooner—

Does this hurt his pride as a perceptive scholar? Yes. Did he embarrass himself in front of the Regrator with a false accusation? Yes. Is he going to bite you now? Yes.

(Reader: *sensing foreboding* ... something just happened.)

AHHHHHHHH *screams* The idea of Dottore embarrassing himself right in front of Pantalone is absolutely hilarious. He thought he was being so smart too, trying to expose the banker for the little scheme he's been pulling for so long. What? Did you think he wasn't going to bring it up, that he was silently going to go along with it? Well, this is what happens when you decide to be greedy and unrelenting, in fact, this whole thing is far more embarrassing for Regrator than himself, Dottore huffs, waiting for a reaction and response from his co-worker. Because Dottore thinks he caught him.

Only to be met with nothing. The silent blank looks the two men give each other are almost comical, and when Pantalone replies with genuine confusion, Dottore can feel a little headache coming on, but he needs to know what is going on because even he is confused, and that's something that doesn't happen every day. He only grows more and more baffled but interested. Why was this information leaked in particular... by who...? He keeps this fact quite hidden from others, if they found out about this, what else do they know?

Getting questioned by Il Dottore himself is bound to shiver some boots... but to his luck, he ran into a group who was... almost excited to see him? He thinks so at least, he can differentiate shaking from nervousness and excitement. And that's when he remembers his... fan club, is what they call it. Even he thinks it's strange but whatever. However, he does find out that each of these clubs has their own handbook. In reality, Dottore has only read the general Fatui handbook once in his life, and that was when Pierro recruited him and made him read it just as a general procedure, and the Harbinger never picked it up again. But he doesn't even need to open the book (given to them by a member who was simultaneously terrified but proud to present the masterpiece to their Lord Harbinger) to check the differences due to the title.

Everything always led back to you, didn't it? You always have to cause trouble, don't you? He's exasperated. All this running around and pointing fingers when the root of the problem was snuggling up to him every day like they did nothing wrong. Dottore, for once in a long time, feels incredibly stupid. Why did it take him so long... you and your big mouth... ugh. He's going to teach you how to keep it shut now (lots of biting and kissing)

At the very least, the one thing he can respect is how the agents refused to expose you as their secret contributor, despite the clear evidence... he can respect their loyalty to you. (Maybe if he makes you tell his agents stuff instead, they'll be more efficient with it. He didn't know they liked you this much...)

(You probably sneaked that one Fatui chef some good recipes and tips, because you felt bad at all his failed attempts. They're all eternally in debt to you.)

Reader: *sneeze* i think someone is talking about me... (also instantly had a bad feeling when Dottore came to your room with that smile on his face)

[nightfall-kachiniko]

Bye sister…

(( I’d like to thank my sister for making this joke I just put it together 😭))

[sinnamonpork]

au of a less traumatized todofam and their shameless favoritism when it comes to one another:

Shouto loves all his siblings, but Fuyumi would always have a special place in his soba obsessed heart. That's his sister that took care of him, attended his school meetings, and generally became the one person he knows will be there when the house would be empty of any soul. She's the one he'll run to when his brothers would be bullying him, knowing full well she'd side with him always. Class 1-A sees their resident ice prince goes full baby mode when his sister comes to visit. "Nee-san, nee-san, did you miss me? I really missed you, nee-san."

Natsuo having Touya as his favorite sibling isn't really a surprise, especially when the two slept in the same room. Touya was the first one who he told of his dreams of being a doctor, becoming a hero in the way he wants to. Touya only grinned at him and said he's sure he can do anything he wants to, because he's his baby brother. His big brother who he hid behind when the house got too loud, too destructive for such a quiet child that Natsuo was. He saw the lean, fragile back of his brother standing tall against Endeavor and not flinching for even a bit and was inspired to be like him, that when he grows up, he'll be the one protecting other people too. Basically, Natsuo's hero worship for the only person in their family who wants nothing to do with heroes lol.

Meanwhile, we got Fuyumi who we all know would be a complete daddy's girl. Because while their family became a tad shaky in the years of Natsuo and Shouto's childhood, she still remembers calling the no. 2 hero her Papa and being carried on his broad shoulders. She remembers those rough fingers brushing through her hair as she fell asleep to his singing voice, a little rough around the edges, but it's her Papa's. She remembers inexperienced hands fumbling to tie her hair yet still calling her the most prettiest princess even with uneven pigtails. It might be tainted by the years to come, but it's those memories that pushes her to keep their family together.

Touya, pierced and edgelord Touya, is a complete mama's boy. When he was young, still not knowing how to control his emotions that are always too much, he'd know that his mother's quiet and comforting demeanor would be the break he needs from the world. She would quiet the buzzing in his ears, playing with his hair as she hums a quiet tune, grounding him to reality when he's close to lashing out at anyone near. During his highschool days, the whole LoV(League of Vtubers) would get a front row seat to their resident deliquent being an obedient puppy and being nothing but a complete gentleman to his visiting mother. "Mom, you can have Shiggy's seat, I'm sure he'll be happy sitting on the floor if it's for you." Tomura just grumbles through it all.

Extra:

Future son-in-law and Honorary Todoroki Keigo's favorite person would obviously be Endeavor, to the horror of his boyfriend. Touya didn't think anything would be worse than the time he had to babysit a Shouto who puked in the middle of the supermarket but there it was. It takes the form of his boyfriend being an absolute simp for Enji and the hero just confused why this smol child is being so chatty. "Endeavor-san, what do you think about going with me and Touya to our trip to the Bahamas? Of course Touya said yes, why would you even think otherwise?" Keigo slept on the couch for two weeks after the incident, Touya making him remember who his attention should be on with his very talented tongue and hands. (and the piercings- oh god the piercings. keigo can die a happy man)

[cozzzynook]

Civilian Touya loves everything to do with Fall because he found peace during those months after accepting he can never be a hero.

His health is oddly best during that time and not the winter like all his siblings and Mother.

He makes them all join in on the Fall decorations and they can’t even be upset about it because their big brother is actually enjoying himself and living and this obsession is normal and he doesn’t hate them.

Sure he pranks Enji the entire season of Fall but the big guy doesn’t care. His son is finally looking his way for a change once more and thats all he can ask for.

Shouto enjoys it the most out of everyone because all year long since his brothers change after his coma he’s been allowing him around him.

He doesn’t hate Shouto anymore and lets him hold his shirt and hand as much as he wants to. He doesn’t care if Shouto hugs him or cries in his shoulder late at night. He used to be silent but now he goes out of his way to tease and play with Shouto.

Shouto loves it because all he wanted was to be close and loved by his nii-san and now he has it.

Especially when they carve pumpkins and use their quirks to ignite them and decorate. He loves going camping in the backyard since Touya can’t go anywhere thats not in the city because of his medical needs. But they get to roast marshmallows and sit by a campfire with their siblings and tell stories and just enjoy themselves!

It’s something none of them ever saw coming but they couldn’t be more happy and grateful.

Touya himself is just glad he watched in the window long enough to see that it was Shouto who curled in his bed the day he ran home. It was him holding the blanket wishing he were still here and it was Natsu who laid out that same bed he used to sleep in hoping for him to come back.

It was Yumi who left his favorite snack at the window he couldn’t really eat anymore before his coma that was taken from the house.

It was his siblings never forgetting him that made him decide to change and come back.

He’s so glad he did.

[pleathewrites]

bellow the fire into my deadened lungs

chapter 1 excerpt — what are your thoughts on child abuse? + burncare read full story here

September

Meeting semi-regularly with Hawks has been… ‘Strange,’ Dabi thinks. 

The Number Two’s got a bad temper, hates being out of the loop, and hates it more when Dabi can’t be bothered to spare more than a few words at him. Dabi mostly makes Hawks do small jobs — gather bits of mild information and tail certain lower-ranked heroes. Dabi doesn’t ask for any top secrets because he has a feeling Hawks would only feed him lies. ‘Why?’ Because that’s what Dabi does. 

But the Bird has interesting thoughts. 

Dabi will admit — seeing Hawks’ speech during the Hero Ranking ceremony was wildly entertaining. Dabi assumed the hero had a flair for the dramatic, but he never thought the guy would be so bold to make such a scene on national live television. 

“Who’s gonna be happy hearing that? Stain?”

Dabi remembers Spinner’s spit-take at Hawks’ interruption of Edgeshot trying to seem oh, so humble. 

“You don’t think we need to change how we do things?... Why are those less accomplished than me playing it safe?”

Dabi remembers the way Toga’s eyes sparkled, the way even Shigaraki started to tilt his head in consideration. Dabi thinks the raining feathers were a bit over the top since the guy was already fucking floating, but he’ll admit it was a nice touch.

But his favorite — “Now, go ahead, Number One Hero, with a lower approval rating than me.”

Dabi actually let out a snort, at that one. 

It’s been a few weeks since that broadcast, but ever since, Dabi’s interest in the hero has been considerably piqued. 

He sent Hawks a set of coordinates and a time to meet about an hour ago. He’s late himself, but only by thirty minutes, and, well, he’s a villain.

He immediately spots the stupid little bird because, in an industrial town full of grey, that stupid yellow suit is an absolute eyesore. 

“You don’t own any other clothes, Hero?” 

Back turned, with only crimson wings in his view, Dabi hoped the guy would have jumped. Dabi’s been told he can be as quiet as a ghost, but then he remembers Hawks telling him something about telepathic feathers and sound vibration. 

“Dabi!” Hawks twirls halfway with that stupid grin of his, “You’re actually early. For you.”

“Say my name louder, would you. Might as well dial up the Commission right now and let ‘em know you turned, while you’re at it,” The words are worried, but Dabi’s tone stays neutral because they both know the Commission is already informed about every single one of their meetings. It’s just Hawks who thinks Dabi’s dumb as rocks. 

“We’re in a literal alleyway in one of the sketchiest towns in Japan, dude.”

“Tch,” Dabi’s nose scrunches in a sneer, ‘Of course he’d consider this town to be sketchy, just because it’s a little run down.’

Hawks scratches at the back of his head, “Though, I guess you got a point. I — uh, heh, I didn’t have time to change. Patrol and all.” 

Dabi deadpans, “You can spare ten minutes. It’s not gonna kill you,” and Hawks still looks weirdly apologetic so he adds on, “Birdy, you’re acting like I’m the one who’s gonna be waitin’ up on you. Has that been the trend, so far?”

“You know, now that you bring it up…” And Dabi just thinks, ‘oh, Gods, no,’ while Hawks puts a gloved finger to his chin, “Why are you always late?”

Dabi doesn’t answer. 

Hawks puts his hands up in mock surrender, “Alright, fine. Be mysterious, whatever,” Then clasps his hands behind his back. Dabi thinks that’ll be the end of that, but Hawks loves the sound of his own voice too much, “You villains are so dramatic.”

Dabi gapes, and lays his hand over his chest in offense, “I’m dramatic?” He scoffs — he cannot stand half the shit that comes out of this smart-ass’s mouth. His hand leaves his chest to point at the Number Two, “This coming from the guy that not only interrupted a rank ceremony but made it rain feathers while he did it? Braggin’ about his own approval rating while floating in the fuckin’ air?”

And — ‘oh shit’ — Dabi should have kept his mouth shut. 

Because he sees the bastard’s golden eyes fucking gleam, and crimson feathers ruffle, “Eh? You keepin’ tabs on me, Hot Stuff?” and he starts to lean in, close enough for Dabi to feel the need to reel back, his nose a mere inch away from Dabi’s own, “Ya like watchin’ me?” Pale eyelashes flutter.

Dabi’s had enough. 

He hears a muffled ‘oomph!’ as his scarred hand pushes Hawks’ face away, “Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself, the ceremony was national news.”

Hawks pulls back and laughs a little. It’s a breathy sound, almost a rumble with how deep the guy’s voice is, but it’s always quiet. Tired. 

Dabi’s stomach chooses that moment to let out a loud and horrifying grumble. 

Hawks’ bushy eyebrow lifts in question, and Dabi can feel the blood gather in his cheeks, humiliation warming his usually cool skin. 

“So, there is a reason you look like a bag of bones,” Hawks says.

Dabi knows the guy is trying to be cheeky, but it hits harder than intended because, ‘Yeah, I haven’t eaten all fuckin’ day,’ and the only thing he does remember eating is cheap instant udon, yesterday. He put a boiled egg in it for protein, but that stuff only goes so far.

Luckily, Hawks continues without needing a response from Dabi, “C’mon, I’m hungry, too, and I saw a chicken place around here. On me, the place is probably cheap, anyway, considering,” and waves his hand around broadly, referring to their current location.

Usually, this is the part where ‘Person B’ says something like, ‘I don’t need your charity!’ but Dabi isn’t prideful enough to deny free sustenance, especially since he can’t even remember the last time he ate real meat. 

So, he shrugs, “Lead the way. But first, button up your fuckin’ jacket and take off your glasses, for fuck’s sake. I know you can move your feathers, so — I dunno, move ‘em under your jacket, or somethin’. Hide them.”

And Hawks actually has the audacity to pout, “I hate compressing my wings.”

“Gods,” Dabi groans to the sky, “It’s just for the walk there.”

After grumbling some more, mostly to himself, Hawks relents and leads the way to a mostly empty chicken shop with neon signs and shiny wooden floors. They sit in a booth at the farthest corner, and order. 

Hawks is somewhat right — food is cheap in a town like this. Dabi’s not well-versed in all things economics, but he knows an underfunded town is a wanted-villain’s safest haven. The residents of such towns rarely call for police — police mean heroes, and heroes mean collateral damage; the residents of this town already struggle to make ends meet with their healthy bodies and standing businesses. One bad fight can end in dozens of collapsed buildings, and an overflow of the nearest already-at-capacity hospital. 

‘As long as you don’t cause too much trouble, the residents here won’t even bat an eye at you, no matter how wanted you are.’

Dabi takes off his facemask and hood when their food is served, and Hawks lets his wings out with a ruffle. The hero begins to dig in, but his gloves stay on.

“Isn’t this cannibalism, for you?”

The previous expression of excitement on Hawks’ face drops, “Ha ha. You’re so clever. I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Fuck off.”

“No, seriously, you should be a comedian.”

“Go to hell. It was actually a semi-serious question.”

A smile quirks at the corner of Hawks’ lips, “Just let me eat in peace, man.”

And so, they eat for a bit, mostly in silence, until Dabi decides the silence feels suffocating. Hawks isn’t asking any questions, not his usual, ‘so whaddya got for me, today?’ and it leaves Dabi with his own thoughts.

After finishing about half his plate, Dabi finally asks what’s been on his mind since watching the Bird on television. 

“What are your thoughts on child abuse?” 

Hawks freezes, a chicken piece halfway through his open mouth when he looks up at Dabi, muffling out, “What?” 

Dabi lets his chin rest on his palm, curling his greasy fingers inwards to avoid his seams, “Humor me, Hero. Got a penny if ya need one.” 

Hawks swallows and puts down his fork — ‘eating chicken wings with fuckin’ utensils, what a priss.’ 

“Uh, gonna need a little bit more context here, man…”

He looks so wary.

Dabi sighs and spells it out for the dumb bird, “What would you do, as a hero, if you received a report of child abuse?”

Hawks takes a moment, scratching at his goatee, “Well, investigate, then hopefully make an arrest,” He shrugs, “Abusers should be jailed. I dunno what you want from me beyond that. Random question, dude.”

Dabi, more or less, ignores the confusion in Hawks’ eyes, but he does take note of how Hawks hasn’t continued eating. The hero is sat back, waiting for Dabi to provide the clearly missing context. 

Dabi has to know what kind of person he’s dealing with, because meeting Hawks this past month and seeing his actions on live television make Dabi… tentatively hopeful — about what, he’s not sure, but Dabi doesn’t like surprises, so he has to ask.

“Mm. But, what if that same abuser shows kindness to everyone else, outside those few people?” 

At that, Hawks lets out a scoff, “It’s usually an act, man. Why are you asking me this? I mean, like, yes, yeah it doesn’t matter if they treat others differently. Doesn’t make up for what they’re doing, the people they’re hurting.”

“Uh-huh,” Dabi’s eyes never leave Hawks’ face, noting the expressive curl of blonde eyebrows, bushed up in earnest to match his glinting frown, “And if other people are, say, ‘counting on them’?”

Those blond eyebrows furrow closer, wild hairs almost touching, “What do you mean?” 

Dabi tilts his head away from the palm it rests on and unfurls those fingers one-by-one to count off, “World leaders, presidents, peace figures.... heroes,” and even Dabi knows his voice took a sharp turn at the last item, and he doubts Hawks had missed it.

“I… No, no, it’s still wrong. It’s complicated, yeah, but... it doesn’t matter how much good someone does if that same person is going off to abuse someone else. Especially their own family.”

Dabi doesn’t know why, but hearing that come from a hero does something to him, speaks to a too-short past life, and validates the soft blindspot of his otherwise iron conscience.

Dabi picks off a piece of his own chicken and takes a bite, “Yeah, we’ll see.”

Meanwhile, Hawks looks completely out of sorts. He’s biting his lip, his hand coming up to rub the knuckle of his gloved index right underneath it. 

Dabi waits. 

“I… I didn’t spend a lot of my life with my birth parents. They were abusive. And they were… y’know, what everyone would call ‘bad people’. Drug addicts, thieves. Probably other things, too, I dunno,” and Dabi is listening to every single word, food completely forgotten. Hawks isn’t looking at him, lidded eyes are directed more towards Dabi’s shoulder, and that’s okay because Dabi hasn’t spoken a single word of his own abuse, so he’s not going to judge how others do it. 

The blond’s head shakes, “Ah,” and clearing gold eyes look back to Dabi, “Point is, even they didn’t face consequences for what they did to me. My dad… He’s in jail, but it’s not for what he did to me. And my mom… Commission paid her a hefty check to adopt me, so she's probably off living an even better life — or maybe dead from overdose, I dunno.” 

“Sounds hard,” it’s a shitty response, but Dabi doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to reveal his own story, but for all that’s broken and wrong and rotted inside of him, he still feels empathy towards this guy, towards the Number Two Hero.

‘Birds of a feather, ‘n all that.’

“Yeah, well. Just makes me think, if apparently ‘bad people’ can get away with the crime of child abuse — people with practically zero social or economic influence — then, how do the same institutions hold someone with real status accountable?”

Against his desire to appear aloof, Dabi feels the sharp tug of his own lips pulling into a small smile, “Askin’ all the right questions. Best ones have no answer.”

Hawks laughs, and it's the same one as the alley, low and quiet. Soft. 

Dabi wonders if the guy lets himself laugh often. He smiles a lot, that’s for certain, but smiles are always easier to fake than laughter.  

“I have a feeling a lot of villains have this kind of backstory, or something similar, huh.”

“As you?” Dabi raises a brow, the easiest kind of expression he can do to the lack of staples there, a constant reminder of his ‘backstory,’ like he’s a fucking manga character,  “Maybe. ‘Cept they weren’t saved by anyone. No one’s jumpin’ up and down to take care of us. That’s the difference between us,” his index finger flicking back-and-forth in the space between them, “Heroes ‘n villains.”

The laugh that leaves Hawks is wrong this time. It’s bitter and booming — dark, and not nearly as lovely as Dabi found the others.

“Saved. Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

Dabi’s stomach churns something sick. He hopes it’s the chicken.

*

The next time Dabi is supposed to meet Hawks, the skin around the staples of his hands feels like it’s on fire. Red, itchy, and, ‘Oh Gods,’ Dabi thinks he’s starting to see something white seep out the seam of his right wrist.  

He used up the last of his supplies two weeks ago. Right now, the only things he has in his apartment are gauze, soap, and tap water that can be boiled. 

Dabi thinks about calling one of the League members, any of them, but after Kamino, there’s been wanted posters of their faces plastered everywhere, mostly definitely around cities nice enough to have open pharmacies.

He calls Hawks. 

“Hello! Where are ya, hot stuff? I’ve been waitin’ for half an hour, and I even took the time to change my clothes.”

Dabi rolls his eyes at the nickname and grips the phone tighter. It makes his wrist burn. He doesn’t waste any time, “Do you have access to any antiseptics or disinfectants right now? Strong ones. Or maybe even antibiotics, like silver sulfadiazine?”

“Burn cream? Uh… not, like, I don’t have any on me. I could get some? Is everything alright?”

Dabi closes his eyes and rubs his brow, “Yeah, I’m gonna send you some new coordinates. Bring the supplies here. And hurry.”

He hangs up and sets to boiling some water. 

Three loud knocks later echo through Dabi’s apartment, and he yells, “Come in!” as he pats his wrists dry with a paper towel. 

“Dabi?” Hawks’ voice rings through the apartment and his large wings come into view from where Dabi stands in the kitchen. Hawks takes his shoes off at the entryway — ‘how well mannered.’ — and perks up when he spots the scarred man.

“Hey! So, I got an assortment of things. Hydrogen peroxide, saline, antibacterial ointment, got the silver sulfadiazine like you asked — that shit is expensive without a coupon — and, oh! I got these, like, film coverings, pharmacist calls ‘em ‘nanocrystalline silver dressing’ , supposed to be better for fighting infection,” He shrugs, “I also went ahead and got some other things like gauze, dressing, Q-tips, pins,” and sets the plastic bag on the countertop,  “Here, take a look.”

Dabi does, with his eyes because he doesn’t want his freshly cleaned wrists getting even more infected with whatever bacteria could be on the plastic bag or any of these items. 

“... Damn. Thanks, Birdy,” He’s honestly shocked Hawks got this much stuff. 

He ignores the way his heart beats faster, ‘Might finally be the sepsis.’

When Dabi looks back up at the guy, his feathers are wiggling again, something Dabi has come to understand what the hero does when he’s somewhat pleased, “Uh, can you wash your hands over there in the sink and pull out the… Hm, the silver dressing, white dressing, and the gauze? Just set it on the counter, I’ll be right back.”

Dabi walks over to his bathroom, hearing the affirmative, “Sure!” from the hero, and closes the door with his elbow. 

He needs a minute. 

‘I can’t believe I just let an undercover hero into my apartment. Am I going to have to move? Fuck… fuck, fuck!’

“Shit,” he whispers to himself as he opens his medicine cabinet and fetches a pair of tweezers and a box of latex gloves.

‘I can’t believe he bought all that stuff. Dude’s loaded, that’s fine and all, but… what the fuck? I only asked for the burn cream…’ 

Dabi shakes his head, closes the medicine cabinet, and is greeted with the reflection of his own confused expression, etched by a small crack at the upper left side. He takes a minute to look at the man staring back at him, looking at his scars and his freshly dyed roots. He knows he’s a frightening sight, something out of nightmares and horror movies. 

He hates looking at himself, sometimes. He knows others do, too. 

Some nights, the vulnerability of his upsettingly-human psyche will claw its way out like the vicious beast it is, and force him to understand his loneliness. On those nights, he will understand why people turned away a half-dead teen, why store owners chased him out with their bats and mops, and why heroes will always, always attack on-sight upon seeing Dabi’s face. 

He will understand why the League’s bar is really the one place he can ever sip his drink in peace and enjoy the burn at the back of his throat without some prick trying to slip him paper bills in exchange for things he can’t even say out loud. On those nights, the righteous anger will leave his body like steam from boiling water, and leave him hollow and cold and so, very, very alone. 

He wonders if tonight will be one of those nights. 

“Uh, Dabi? You alright in there?”

Dabi blinks out and away from his reflection, ‘Maybe not,’ and leaves his bathroom. 

When he comes back to the kitchen, all the supplies he asked for are out and ready to use. Hawks sits on Dabi’s only stool, waiting.

Dabi didn’t get a chance to really look at the guy, until now. The hero did end up changing his attire for tonight — black sweatshirt, normal jeans that are still on the baggier side, and black boots closer to the kind in fashion magazines than those hideously yellow rainboots he normally tends to wear. When Dabi lifts his eyes back up, he notices the hero’s hair looks a bit different, a little more chaotic, and a little less stiff — it looks soft. 

‘Oh, pull it fucking together.’

Dabi clears his throat and hands over the box of latex gloves, “Do you mind helping me out? I just need you to do this wrist, and then I can work on the other.”

Hawks is nodding and stretching the gloves over his hands before Dabi even finishes his sentence. 

“Y’know, your place isn’t anything like I’d thought it’d be. ‘S nice. Clean.” 

Dabi hears a snap! and a muttered, “shit.”

He opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong before he looks at Hawks’ hand, and sees matte black claws curving out fingers loosely lined with tattered blue latex.

“Oh.”

“Heh,” Hawks laughs, a bit nervously, “Sorry ‘bout that. My own gloves are so thick, I forget I have these.”

“Why am I just now seeing these?” Dabi wonders out loud, eyes glued to the tips of talons he could have sworn that, for a split second, sparkled at him, “Shit. Those are fucking sharp, man. You’re tellin’ me you don’t fight with ‘em?” He doesn’t really pay attention to broadcasts of hero fights but from the ones he’s seen, the Number Two’s hands were always gloved.

“Ah,” Hawks starts to pull a fresh latex glove over his hand again, leaving some space between the ends of each finger for his talons this time, “That wouldn’t be very heroic, would it? There’d be a lot of… blood. Kids don’t need to see that kind of gore in the news, y’know.”

Dabi raises an eyebrow, “I… guess....” 

Honestly, Dabi thinks that’s a bullshit excuse, to not use something so clearly advantageous in serious combat, especially when the hero's life is on the line practically every day, ‘Even if he doesn’t want to use them, why does he cover them?’

He lets the matter be, for now, and looks over the directions on the box of the nanocrystalline silver dressing. He reads it twice, just to make sure. 

Hawks speaks up, apparently needing to hear his own voice again, “The directions say that for exudative wounds, you should apply the dressing dry.”

“Yeah, I see that.”

“So... Let’s get started!” 

Dabi huffs. He hates that he needs help but he’s always been shit with his right hand, and he doesn’t want to risk dropping anything. He lays his left hand out towards Hawks and critically watches every move the man makes. 

Hawks is extremely gentle, and he dresses the wound as if he’s done this a thousand times over. The hero’s eyes never leave Dabi’s wrist, except for the few times he’d go over and read the instructions again to make sure he’s doing everything right. He cradles Dabi’s forearm with one hand as he uses the other to smooth the silver dressing on, the pressure of his fingers light around the staples and firm around the skin. After he applies the secondary dressing, he briefly looks up at Dabi to ask, “You alright?” 

Dabi can only nod. 

When the gauze is wrapped and firmly pinned in place, Hawks finally lets go and Dabi takes a step back to breathe.  

He immediately sets to work on his other hand, moistening the silver dressing with the clean water he’d boiled earlier on. 

“You sure you don’t want help with the other hand? I’ve been trained in this kinda stuff, first aid. I don’t mind.”

‘Well, that explains a little.’  

Still, Dabi shakes his head, “I prefer to do it myself,” and there’s truth in that, it’s the absolute truth, Dabi likes to do things himself. He likes things done his way, and he doesn’t like being touched. 

But the gentle feeling of Hawks’ fingers on his skin urges him to reconsider. 

He won’t, but some part of him wishes he would. 

As he starts to apply the silver dressing with his tweezers, he hears Hawks ask, “Can I ask you something really personal? Like, probably boundary-crossing?”

Dabi’s eyes never leave his working hands, “You got a lot of nerve, Birdbrain, thinkin’ we’re cool like that.”

He hears a small squawk, “C’mon, dude! I’m in your apartment, per your request! I think we’re along the lines of something, ‘like that’.”

Dabi snorts, “I won’t stop you, but don’t be surprised if I tell you to fuck off.”

Hawks laughs — the same small breathy one that makes Dabi’s own mouth quirk up.

Hawks asks why his body is full of scars.  

And Dabi… Well, every passing day, Dabi feels himself getting closer to death and, tonight, it makes his lips a little loose. Maybe he just wants someone to know his story, maybe he wants to try saying it out loud. And if he’s gonna tell his tale, it might as well be in the company of his favorite little double-agent.

When he finishes wrapping up the gauze around his right wrist, he digs for the cigarette packet deep in his pocket, takes out a stick, and lights it up. 

“My father,” He begins, “He’s the reason I’m like this, the reason I look like this, act this way. I know the whole ‘daddy issues’ thing is overrated but, well,” He shrugs, not daring to look up from his apartment floor. He takes another puff, the nicotine in his veins calming him, the smoke down his throat grounding him. He remembers his conviction, “That man took everything from me, left me like this, and he only ever got rewarded.”

He briefly glances at Hawks, the man’s gold eyes filled with an empathetic sorrow that only people like them could give each other, “I’m sorry.”

Dabi shakes his head and looks away, because he can’t deal with this, can’t have someone looking at him like that, not after all these years, “Not your fault. Nothing to be sorry for.”

“He’ll burn,” Hawks says, and Dabi sees the man’s fists clench from the corner of his eye, “Wherever he is, one way or another, he’ll burn.”

Dabi doesn’t know what kind of feelings are running through the hero right now. He thinks that maybe if he looks up, he might see.

‘Is he angry? Is it for me? Does he pity me, feel sorry for me? Is he triggered by my story the way I was by his? Or is he just telling me what he thinks I want to hear?’ — but Dabi doesn’t want to see. 

Because if Hawks only knew who Dabi’s father was, who made him like this, and did this to him, he doesn’t want to know if the hero would look at him the same way gold eyes do now. 

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore, Birdy.”

Dabi walks over to his worn-out couch and sits down with a tired sigh. Hawks follows. 

For the next ten minutes, Dabi relays small bits and pieces of League information to Hawks, and the hero returns with tidbits of hero business. 

It honestly just feels like a way to fill the time. 

When a moment of silence reaches them, and Dabi’s cigarette has burned all the way through the filter, Dabi speaks up about something he kept quiet to himself last time, “Say, since you asked me a deeply personal question, grant me the same privilege?” 

“Sure, as long as I get the same privilege of tellin’ you to fuck off if I want.”

Dabi snorts and ashes his cigarette, tilts his head towards the hero.

“Was I wrong? Back then, about the Commission saving you?” 

He sees Hawks bite his lips and sink deeper into the sofa cushions, tilting his head back. He sighs, “You’re an observant fucker, aren’t you?”

Dabi smirks, “What villain isn’t?” 

“The ones that get caught.”

And at that, Dabi barks a laugh and is honestly shocked at the sound of it. He thinks Hawks is, too, by the way his blond eyebrows round up, and his previously conflicted eyes soften. 

Hawks lifts one of his clawed hands up, and if Dabi didn’t know better, he’d think the gesture was some kind of show-and-tell, but at the way Hawks’ own eyes glaze over his talons, Dabi thinks the movement is more for the hero’s own comfort. 

“I lied earlier, about the reason I don’t fight with my claws,” Hawks finally says, softly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. 

Dabi knows to keep quiet. 

“I do care about wanting kids to live in a safer world, to… spare them. Of the horrific consequences that come from battles, traumatizing images ‘n all that stuff. Of course, I care about that. But… But I know my abilities. If allowed, I know I’d be able to use my claws in ways that wouldn’t end in some kind of, fucking , feral episode.”

Dabi’s eyebrows slowly knit together, “Allowed?”

Golden eyes flick over to Dabi’s and the vulnerability swirling in them makes the scarred man want… something.

To gasp, reach out, put his own wrapped hands over the talons, and warm them up a bit, just — something.

He’s horrified at these new and intrusive thoughts. 

Instead of doing anything, he waits. 

“The Commission,” Hawks drops his hand to his lap and averts his eyes there, “They have an image of what they believe society wants a hero to look like, along with other things. They… told me they were ‘correcting’ my flaws.”

There’s a beat of heavy, waiting silence.

“They appreciate my quirk — it’s strong and versatile, good for offense, defense, rescue — stuff like that. But they don’t… They hate my raptor genes, the mutations. Like, the only thing I’m allowed to have and show are my wings — everything else has to be hidden or removed. I’m a mutant, but I have to do everything I can to look as ‘humane’ as possible.”

‘What is even considered ‘humane’, in a society of quirked-people?’ 

Dabi is immediately reminded of his hatred towards hero society, “Shit, what the fuck, Birdy. Is that why you wear those stupid-ass gloves?”

Hawks sends a bitter and sad smile to Dabi, “Was the only way to convince them to let me keep my talons. They used to clip ‘em or file them down, but that fucking hurts and they grow back wrong, so. Yeah, got these gloves and told them I’ll never take ‘em off.”

“Tch,” Dabi feels so disgusted right now, at the people who run this society, “So they make you nice ‘n pretty for everyone to look at while they profit of’a’ya. Sick.”

“Yeah, well,” Hawks huffs a laugh, and it’s the one that makes Dabi feel sick to his stomach, “I’m the Number Two Hero, with my own agency! All at the tender age of twenty-four — oops, sorry, twenty-two, Commission fudged my age to make me look even more impressive. An eighteen-year-old success story is prettier than a twenty-year-old one.”

Bile threatens to well up in Dabi’s throat at that — the effort to make this hero fit into society’s obsession with the ‘barely legal’ trope.

“I should be grateful, right?” Hawks bitterly smiles, “Everybody wants to fuck me and every hero wants to be me.”

“Fuck outta here if you’re gonna talk like that, Birdbrain.”

Pink lips bite themselves into a smile, one so much more shy and on the edge of mischievous, “Wanna see my feet?”

“What the fuck?”

He does. He really does.

read full chapter here

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[addictedball]

Fluff endhawks for this moment 🥺

[elvenlia]

Endeavor x reader

Her mind felt like it was ready to explode with everything she had just witnessed on the television screen. Endeavors oldest son, which everyone believed to have long passed, was actually the villian Dabi. And he announced it for the entire world to hear.

Her heart broke, for many reasons. For Shoto who witnessed it first hand, for Dabi - Touya for the years of built up pain and anguish and for Endeavor ...

Y/n had long since grown a bond with the Pro hero, having worked as his personal assistant from the age of 21 until now at 27. Six years of dealing with that stubborn, brash man.

Over the years she's learned to read him, read between the lines of his harsh words and lack of emotion. Once past those obnoxious barriers, he wasn't all that bad. At least not to her.

They had an odd dynamic, most thought. She was boisterous, outgoing, confident and kind. Where as he was rude, hard and emotionally inept.

She would tease him and laugh, while others would scurry away at the sight of a glare pointed their way. She wasn't afraid of him, nor intimidated.

He was her boss, she respected him of course, but she never let him treat her as if she was less than or below him. She would go toe to toe with him in any argument, never backing down.

She had even developed a bond with his family, against his will of course, at first. Though something he'd never say out loud was he was secretly grateful to her for that. She could be there for them in places he couldn't, hasn't.

Which brought y/n to where she was now, dropping everything to hop in her car and set herself on the way to Endeavor's office. She knew that's where he'd be after this whole disaster took place.

Just as she pulled onto the main road a phone call came through on her cell. Quickly she answered it, it was him.

" Hey, Enji I'm- "

" I need you .. "

" I know, I'm already on my way. I'll be there soon, okay? "

The only reply y/n got was silence on the other end before he hung up the phone. The way his voice cracked as he spoke only made her heart ache more for him.

Endeavor was know for being a bad father, that much was a fact. He was hardly a capable parent and let his greed and desire cloud his intentions when it came to his kids. Though in the past year or so he has been trying to do better, be better for them.

Y/n had stayed many hours over at the office listening to him speak about his children, so compassionate not one of them would believe even if they heard it come from his own mouth. Though she did, she believed him.

After grabbing some dinner for the man, y/n quickly entered the office building heading straight for Endeavors office and entering without a knock. They were the only two there.

"Okay, I texted Fuyumi and had dinner sent to your home for the kids. So their dinner is taken care of for tonight, they don't need to worry. And I brought you some tonkatsu, incase your hungry. "

Y/n spoke as she entered the office, setting the bag in front of the dazed man on his desk. Sliding her phone into her bag she hopped up onto the corner of his desk beside him, as she so commonly did. Though usually in work attire and not sweatpants but that didn't matter right now.

" How are you feeling, Enji? "

She asked softly, reaching a hand out to grasp his shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze which pulled him from his daze to finally notice she was there.

She was able to now get a better look at his face, the way his bottom lip trimbled mixed with the splotches of dried blood caked around his face and in his hair made her want to cry for the man.

She had never seen him look so absolutely defeated.

The look didn't suit him. She'd take his harsh glares and scowls any day.

" He's my own son and I never - "

He slammed a fist down on to the desk beside where she was sat near her thigh. Gritting his teeth so hard she could hear them scraping together as tears started to well in the corners of his eyes.

" You couldn't have known, Enji. He doesn't resemble ... he's different now. "

" He's been alive this whole time! I thought - I thought .. "

" I know, I know ..."

She shushed him as she pulled him into a tight embrace, rubbing soft circles into his back. This was the first time he'd ever allowed her to be this close to him, to show this type of vulnerability in front of her.

" It's all my fault ... I ruined him . "

She wished she had sweet comforting words to whisper softly to him, but she didn't. He was right, he did Touya very wrong and she wouldn't lie to him in sake of making the blow easier for him.

So she chose to stay quiet and allow him to weep, mumbling out incoherent words into her shoulder as she held him close.

After sometime of him staying buried in her shoulder he finally pulled away, now only a numb look reflected in his eyes.

" Let me take you home. "

She broke the silence, taking his hand in her much smaller one and giving it a gentle tug as to gesture him to follow her. She had also grabbed the bag of untouched food in her other hand as she lead the man out of his office building. Locking up as she went.

The car ride was quite, almost deafeningly quite. She had only ever drove him a handful of times, when his driver was unavailable, but everytime he'd nearly go into a fit over her driving skills. Though tonight it seemed he didn't care.

It was nearing midnight, she was hoping she wouldn't wake anyone as she dropped the man off at his home. Taking him inside, she sat him in the kitchen at the table, plating his food and once again sitting it in front of him.

" Eat, it'll make you feel better. "

She left the hero to his vices as she wondered into the living room, peeking around to see if anyone remained up. And to her surprise, a figure was sat before the fireplace, the fire long having died down.

" Sho? "

Y/n softly called to the boy, leaning over the couch to place a gentle touch to his shoulder.

" Y/n - .. "

His voice broke as he placed his hand over hers, his touch trembling.

" Oh Sho - I'm so sorry. "

She bit her lip to contain her own emotions which brewed dangerously in the pit of her stomach. Wrapping her arms around the boys shoulders from behind she gave him a tight squeeze, holding him in silence for a moment like she had done for his father.

" You should head to bed Sho, it's late and you deserve some sleep. "

He offered a sullen nod before sulking off down the hall.

Hearing footsteps coming up beside her, her attention was grabbed by arms engulfing her into a tight embrace, once again. She had noticed he had cleaned himself up and changed out of his hero costume finally.

She held Endeavor for the second time that night.

" Thank you for being here for my family and myself.. "

His once strong voice now dimmed and lower.

" You don't need to thank me, Enji. "

He shook his head slowly in reply, letting a moment pass by before speaking again.

" Please stay with me tonight? "

His question was so quiet, only meant for her ears as she took in his words. Softly she nodded, pulling away slightly from his embrace.

" I'll stay. "

It seems it wouldn't be the last time she'd be holding Endeavor close that night.