#yandere enji todoroki x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

depravitycentral · 4 months

Text

Enji Todoroki General Yandere Profile

Yandere! Enji Todoroki x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, power imbalances, financial trapping, mentions of physical/domestic abuse, mentions of non-con, sexist undertones, Enji wants you to be his cute little housewife, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, a few mentions of making sure you eat enough/food, Enji is patronizing whoo boy, he makes you share a toothbrush and yes he's weird about it, this is set in a divergent timeline where Enji and Rei are formally divorced and his relationship with his family is loose and not super tight, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Kind

Enji is, simply, harsh.

His quirk, his mannerisms, his attitude, his everything, really, is a bit rough around the edges, forming a man with only enough self control to get what he wants. He’s lived his whole life bitterly, constantly jealous, constantly wanting, willing to throw everything away in order to achieve his goals.

And once everything starts caving in around him, his family and career both taking unexpected turns, Enji finds himself so, so painfully alone. He doesn’t pretend to delude himself into thinking he’s not deserving of his fate, but this places him into a position where he shoulders the guilt while desperately trying to find any outlet to forget it.

And this is where a darling who is kind comes into play – he needs someone who won’t judge him for his past. He needs someone who doesn’t treat him like scum, who is still polite and empathetic to him and his emotions. A darling who is able to consistently praise him will have him smitten quickly, growing emotionally dependent on hearing their sweet words in order to function, in order to not let the depression and stress get the better of him.

And even once his obsession has formed and he’s deep in the depth of his infatuation, a darling who is just too kind to kick him to the curbside is absolutely essential for him – they must be doting and caring, helping rebuild his shattered confidence and psyche, and with every compliment they dish out, Enji vows that he’ll return the sentiment tenfold, in his own way of course.

(This means buying his darling millions of yen worth of their favorite things, all kinds of wonderful gifts that he hopes will sway them in his favor, that will get them drooling over him and all that he can provide for them.)

Hardworking

Although he’s in a mental state that leaves him much more susceptible to finding a partner once he divorces Rei, Enji is still a picky man. He won’t fall for just anyone – no, they must fit his standard, be acceptable and meet the rather long and detailed checklist he has for those he considers as potential romantic partners.

And near the top of this list is determination. He’s a man motivated by his own goals and is willing to stop at nothing to achieve them – and so, a darling that can at least somewhat match this aspect of his personality is critical.

He has no patience for a darling that gives up easily; he wants someone that’s willing to put in the effort to see it pay off, someone who understands the concept of self-discipline and holding yourself to certain moral standards.

He finds it wildly attractive when someone has strong character, and his interest would immediately be piqued with a darling who brings an attitude of perseverance and hard work into every aspect of their life, be it work, their hobbies, their relationship, and everything in between.

He wants someone who is perhaps not quite as stubborn as him, but is still serious in their goals.

(He hopes that one day, making him happy and pleasing him will be one of these goals – just as pleasing his darling is one of his own. And he’s more than happyto please them in whatever way they so desire. More than happy.)

Motherly

Because he views his darling as the perfect wife, his darling absolutely must possess at least somewhat of a motherly air about them. He likes the idea of having a nurturing partner, if only because he finds it endearing when they care for others.

As a hero he shares this sentiment, and although it may sometimes be overshadowed by his need to become the best, deep down inside he does very much wish to help others – his methodology is just a little more violent, a little more overt.

His darling, by contrast, should prefer a methodology that’s much gentler, something that focuses more on making others feel safe and heard and cared for.

Besides, Enji very much desires to have children with his darling; to build a second family, one that he’ll care for and nourish much better than his first. And so, if his darling is to be a good mother, they must embody these traits.

Besides, although he doesn’t fall for his darling because of his fantasies of making them a mother, once the feelings are formed these daydreams only further his feelings, deepening his obsession because oh, he’d give absolutely anything to see them pregnant with his child, carrying his seed, creating something that symbolizes the love and dedication between them.

And so, his darling needs to be someone who naturally takes care of others – and in return, Enji will take care of them. Just how it should be.

Pushover

This trait is a bit less crucial compared to the others, but it’s still most definitely a positive from Enji’s perspective.

Of course he likes a darling who has strong opinions and stands up for them, but he loves a darling that will let him guide them through any hard decisions, or really any decisions at all.

Although he’s not as outright controlling with his darling, he still very much feels that he wears the pants in the ‘relationship’, and thus he is the one calling the shots.

A darling who is happy to let him take over their life like this is a massive help to him – he doesn’t have to fight for control, nor does he have to argue with them about why certain decisions really should be made by him as the more dominant partner, as the one who knows more about the world, as the man. It’s an outdated view and it’s one that he doesn’t really want to admit out loud, but he enjoys the idea of a partner who will revere him and allow him full control.

He wants to be loved and cherished, and in return for a love like this, he’ll do his best to provide for and take care of his darling in every way he possibly can – so really, if his darling knows what’s best for them, they’ll step back and let him make all the tough decisions.

They’ll nod and smile and agree with whatever he chooses, pressing a kiss against his cheek and telling him how much they trust him, how they know he’d never hurt them, how he only wants what’s best for them.

Just the thought makes something warm swell in his stomach, the level of trust making him feel wanted, needed, a concept so foreign that it almost feels wrong. But oh, how he likes it.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Controlling

But in a very, very strange way – a lot of what fuels Enji’s obsession is this desperate, innate need to right his wrongs. He’s very, very aware of how thoroughly he ruined his family, how horribly he treated Rei, how he was a poor excuse of a father and husband, and he sees his love with you as almost being his second try. With you, he can do all the things he should have done with Rei and his children – he should have been sweet and loving, a present father that cared about each of his children equally. He should have been a doting husband, spoiling his wife and making her feel loved and desired.

But he didn’t, and although Rei has long since divorced him, Enji finds himself feeling lonely, incomplete, restless to try again, to properly provide for a sweet little thing he can call his own. And this is where you come in – and from the moment he realizes his feelings for you are more than a simple attraction, he dives in head-first.

He decides he'll approach everything with you in a way as opposite from his previous marriage as possible – he's all grand, romantic gestures, always showing up with a bouquet of flowers in hand and just the slightest pink tint on his scarred cheeks.

The grand, romantic gestures are, of course, merely things he’s seen in rom-coms; the women always look happy when the love interest swoops in with flowers and gifts and pretty clothing, the beaming smile and large hug the man gets as a reward seeming very, very appealing to Enji, despite his rigid exterior.

(Just the thought of you hugging him has his heart racing – it’s something so intimate, so entirely new that it makes every nerve in his body stand on edge, a shiver running up his spine as he imagines the way your body would feel pressed against his, how you’d sigh and sink further against him, how you’d squeeze him and god, the view he’d get when he looks down to see your body pressed so tightly against him that not even a breath of air could separate you -)

He’s scouring through women’s magazines, burying his nose in the glossy pages and searching for ideas and clues as to what women enjoy as courting gifts.

(He has to scoff under his breath every time he sees a new dieting tip or regiment, internally frowning and worrying that you’re seeing these ads and potentially obsessing over your weight. The last thing he’d want is for you to be unhappy with your body – certainly not when he’s so very happy with it. Not to mention the nutritionally heinous foods the magazine recommends – he’d sooner have you eat raw paper than follow this ludicrous advice.)

He’s even caving and very, very awkwardly asking his female sidekicks and employees at his agency about their tips on how to seduce a woman. He struggles to make eye contact with them when he asks, his imposing figure almost reminding them of a shy, nervous teenage boy with the way he’s so earnest about his question, his eyes lighting up when they mention an idea he hasn’t tried yet, pressing them for details and specifics and you must tell me what to say to her – how does one follow up gifting a puppy?

It would be sweet, really, how devoted he is to making sure that you’re absolutely spoiled, that you get a whole variety of lavish gifts designed to sweep you off your feet. It would be wonderful, really, except that Enji has never understood the concept of being too much – which is how everything will start to feel very, very early on in this process.

It was nice at first to receive a fresh bouquet of roses every morning at your desk with a handwritten card attached. (Written in impeccable handwriting, the cursive letters looping and elegant as they spell out short, simple, sweet messages signed with a capital E at the bottom, reading please make sure to eat enough today and that skirt looks lovely on you.)

It was nice at first, but after the second week of daily bouquets and even a few finding their way to the doorstep of your apartment, the sight of the pretty red flowers makes a sinking feeling swirl in your gut.

(Enji notices this, dismayed and frustrated by your lack of a positive response, and decides to double down and just gift you bigger flowers, because maybe your lack of joy at receiving the bouquets is because they aren’t big enough, aren’t grandiose enough, aren’t good enough.)

It was nice to get the cute, small stuffed bunny on your desk one morning, and you’d even grown so fond of the little thing that you perched it on the edge of your desk, assuming it was a one-time gift. But it wasn’t – the stuffed animals kept coming, getting bigger and more detailed and much, much more expensive, you’re sure.

(Enji is careful to remove each and every price tag on every gift he sends you, simply because he doesn’t want you to feel that you owe him financially, nor does he want you to be swayed into accepting him as your partner by mere economic standing – that’s an asset that you’ll come to know, of course, but he’d rather lure you in via more traditional ways. It doesn’t exactly stay secret, though, because once the necklace with a delicate array of at least five diamonds in it arrives at your front door, your secret admirer’s wealth becomes very, very difficult to hide.)

He’s gifting you jewelry with more precious jewels and gold and silver than you could possibly wear, and outfitting your closet with all kinds of dresses and skirts out of materials and cuts you could never hope to afford for yourself.

(And, of course, they’re all tailored to fit you perfectly – how Enji managed to get your exact sizes is still a question that haunts you, one that makes you scared to upon the nicely wrapped boxes that you find in excess outside your front door.)

It’s all just too damn much – Enji is suffocating with his attempts to woo you, his every gift and gesture leaving you feeling uncomfortable. What he’s trying to do is very, very obvious – and it feels wrong. He’s the number one hero, a busy man with much more important things to be doing – so why is he going after you? And why with such ferocity?

His forwardness will scare you off, driving you to avoid him and grow suspicious of his motives, and Enji does not like this development. This wasn’t supposed to happen – you’re supposed to want him, to be seduced by all of his efforts, to be swept off your feet and swooned by his gifts and words (delivered with the grace of a garbage truck, of course, but the sentiment is there – even if looking at your pretty face distracts him, all the words leaving his head and making him stand there gaping like a fool).

Enji doesn’t like it, and so he presses harder, stepping up the frequency and volume of his gifts, only effectively pushing you further and further away from him as you grow more uneased and unsettled. And if you were to confront him about it?

Well, this is where his controlling tendencies come into play – denying who he naturally is can only last for so long, and despite being a man with superb self-restraint, the moment that Enji feels you’re slipping from his fingers he’s morphing back into the man that commands your every move.

Suddenly he’s no longer presenting you with the newest shampoo you’ve been talking about (it’s salon grade, the best stuff out there, and much too expensive, but not for Enji – nothing is too expensive for him when it’s for you) but rather letting this expression wash over his face, one that you’ve never seen before.

It’s cold, remarkably so; his lips are pressed tightly together, his brows perfectly straight, those eyes lifeless as he tells you to stop fighting, go inside and change into the green dress I gave you last week. We’re going for dinner, and you’ll order the house salad and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Do you understand me?

It’s weird and unexpected and scary, and it’ll have you immediately stuttering out a yes and scurrying inside, too frightened to disobey. And really, while Enji winces every time he does this, eventually he finds himself trying to justify it as simply ensuring your relationship will last.

Obviously it’s not good that he has to force you into these small, minor, inconsequential things (like going on a date with him or letting him accompany you home afterwards), but this is different from with Rei – you want this, right? You’re just too shy to tell him how flattered you are about all the attention he’s giving you.

You’re just playing coy, acting on your age-old feminine instincts to make men chase after you, to be demure and make your partner work for your affection and love. And eventually, Enji will convince himself that this is different, he’s wooing you and getting you into a relationship with him willingly – you want him.

You practically love him already – things are going well. They’re successful.

They have to be.

And so, while Enji doesn’t mean to be controlling, the end results is that although he plays the nice guy that spoils you and gives you anything your heart desires, at the end of the day he is the one in charge, and he is the one dictating your relationship.

And really, what can you do to stop him? He’s strong, both physically and with the general population – one word from him and you’d be hunted for like a madman, ostracized from the community, brought back to him like a pup to its owner.

You belong with him, and it’s his job to make you see that – even if you want to remain blind.

Possessive

Enji Todoroki doesn’t share. Once he decides that he wants you, you become unequivocally his.

Sure, he wants to do things a bit differently with you and get you to harbor more loving feelings towards him, but from the moment his infatuation forms you don’t really have a choice in the matter.

You can pretend like you do, if it makes you feel better (and it will, because at least you can pretend that you have even an ounce of control in the relationship, that you aren’t just some adorable little thing he’s decided he wants hanging off his arm and warming his bed), but at the end of the day you’re subject to Enji’s whims.

And although Enji lets you harbor this fantasy of your relationship being truly consensual, the moment something occurs that threatens it, his true colors are shown. Namely, when he thinks your attention is veering away from him, his jealousy and anger become difficult to keep in check, his quirk acting up and letting off small sparks and flames all along his body. His fists clench and his jaw tightens when he sees another man around you, and although he tries to rationalize that the man likely doesn’t want anything to do with you, just simply being in your presence is enough to make Enji suspicious.

Even if the man isn’t talking to you or acknowledging you in any way, he’s anxious – he’s scared that something about this man will attract you, that you’ll somehow find him better than Enji.

Maybe the man is friendlier – Enji’s aware that he isn’t exactly the most approachable person on the planet.

Maybe he's funnier – Enji knows he can’t crack a joke to save his life.

Maybe he’s a better conversationalist – less formalities and awkwardness, able to get you laughing so hard you snort.

It makes Enji’s skin crawl, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s fisting his hands, and before long he will intervene. He’ll grab you as gently as he can on the elbow, guiding you carefully but quickly away to the other side of the room and physically maneuvering so that his body is blocking your sight of the man – and more importantly, blocking his sight of you.

He’ll try to talk with you, trying to distract you and get your mind off of the other man, all in an effort to get your attention back on him. He’s reminding you that you have him, that you don’t need some other man, that you already have one who’s capable of providing for you and caring for you as you deserve.

Frankly, he discovers just how deeply his feelings for you run in a situation where jealousy gets the best of him – you’d been approached at a small gathering by a man from another agency who was clearly hitting on you. He was leaning in close, smiling with a smarmy smirk and nursing on his cocktail like a lifeline.

Enji had noticed the two of you out of the corner of his eye, and immediately he’d gone stiff. He couldn’t stop staring at the way the man kept getting gradually closer to you, how he kept leaning in further, how his hand slid from his pocket to your shoulder, then your arm, down to your hand and oh, oh god, it looks like he’s bringing it down to your waist –

Enji had been by your side in mere moments, his gaze card and harsh as he’d stepped in front of you, making some poorly toned excuse about needing to speak with you for a moment, before unceremoniously dragging you away from the stupefied man.

From that day, Enji absolutely refuses to allow anyone close to you. And really, can he be blamed? After all, he fell for you, so why wouldn’t anyone else? You’re beautiful and caring, smart and dignified, and if he can see your potential as a lovely, perfect little wife, surely others can too.

And so, Enji ramps up his controlling tendencies the more he’s presented with situations where the green-eyed monster accompanies him. And this control takes its main form through financials – that is, while Enji originally didn’t want to attract you to him via his material wealth, he decides it’s a necessary evil in order to have you staying by his side only.

He starts ‘forgetting’ to peel off the price tags of the gifts he gives you, pretending not to notice how your eyes practically bug out of your head when you unbox the pink pendant he’d bought for you.

He starts inviting you out for lunches and dinners more often, ordering for you and choosing the most expensive items off the menu despite your numerous pleas that you’ll opt for something – anything – cheaper.

(It’s frustrating, too, because as angry as you want to be at him for ordering for you, he always chooses something you end up liking – of course it’s because he’s done extensive research and stalking, finding out your favorite foods and what flavors you dislike, but it all seems like one large, awfully strange coincidence to you.)

Exerting financial control over you keeps you complacent, because the guilt you’ll feel at how much money he’s sinking into you will have you following his every word, even if it his commands are a little strange and off-putting – like spending less time with any male friends (or really any friends for that matter) or slipping the small photograph of him into your purse (it’s weird and you do so hesitantly, making sure the polaroid is at the bottom of the bag – and trying to ignore the way his muscles are oh-so fucking defined in the tight black shirt he’s sporting in the photograph).

It’s all just a big ploy to keep you from running off with some other man – but really, if you somehow did manage to do that, Enji won’t be particularly merciful. He will be cornering the man as he leaves your apartment and he will be holding him by the neck against the cold concrete wall, threatening him to leave you alone or experience the rather unpleasant sensation of burning alive.

It’s not particularly heroic, but Enji doesn’t care – he can’t, not when the threat of you leaving him for another man is very much present and real. It’s too scary, too much for him to handle – it would mean you rejecting him, his second fuck-up in love, and the loss of someone who fits absolutely every one of his desires in a woman.

You’re too perfect for him to lose – so instead, he’ll own you.

Dependent

He will never admit it, but there’s this part of Enji that grows stronger day by day, every time he sees your face, that tells him in the most raw, real way that he absolutely needs you.

He’s essentially lost what he had of his family, and with the sharp uptake in responsibility as the new number one hero, the new symbol of modern peace, Enji finds himself turning to you in his time of need, in his more vulnerable moments.

Because really, though his exterior is tough and jaded, he’s only human – he too needs someone to love, someone to hold and latch onto, and latch he does. You’re his, and he expects you to understand that even if he doesn’t verbalize it.

He cherishes your very existence, each and every thing you do, finding you to be remarkably weak yet remarkably endearing, your inability to defend yourself simultaneously adorable and frustrating. He needs you to realize that you’re his everything; his whole reason for living now, even if he doesn’t give you many clues into this.

He isn’t the best at expressing his emotions, and although the love and desperation he feels for you is constantly overwhelming him, overflowing from his chest and making him dizzy, he doesn’t articulate just how deeply these feelings run.

Of course he’ll tell you how you’re beautiful, or that you’re my responsibility to protect, but he’ll also say significantly less romantic things like how you belong to him, how he's never letting you out that front door, how he’ll never let those disgusting, filthy villains touch something as perfect as you.

He thinks it’s sweet and exactly what you want to hear, but it’s not – it’s scary and strange and weird, but these are your biggest clues as to his dependence on you.He won’t tell you, but his expectations for you are honestly monumentally high; he wants you to be his perfect little wife, everything that Rei wasn’t, and this includes giving you every ounce of his love.

He wants you to be diligently cooking him hearty meals, keeping the house tidy and clean for the two of you, to be massaging his shoulders while he relaxes from a stressful day at work. (Hell, he even wants you to wear cute little aprons, collars with his name stitched onto them, those maternity/breast feeding bras before you’re even pregnant…)

He wants a domestic fantasy with you, and this extends to other, more vulnerable things as well. He expects you to embrace him as he walks through the door everyday returning home, to give him a light peck on the cheek and ask about his day, to let him hug you from behind and kiss your neck as you slave away over the stove.

He never really got the chance to do such loving things with Rei (not that he particularly wanted to), and as a result he honestly feels like he’s having to make up time, that he needs to be taking every single ounce of affection and love you can possibly give him, and he’ll feel no guilt at all.

He won’t outright ask you to cuddle him, but when he sits on the large, overstuffed leather couch and stares at you expectantly, you’ll quickly learn to run over to him and snuggle up into his side, to bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms and legs around him even if his body heat cooks you alive.

He won’t ever explicitly ask you to give him those fluttery, soft morning kisses he’s seen all the time in terrible corny rom-coms he religiously watched for inspiration while trying to court you, but the moment you smile sleepily at him and press a kiss against his lips while you holds you close in the morning glow?

God, it’s in those moments that he wants to give you absolutely everything he has – every part of his body, soul and heart, every single cent he owns, every piece of fame and fortune he’s ever amassed.

Enji just wants to please you, and although he comes off as an odd mix of demanding yet generous, terrifying yet strangely awkward, inside his heart is hammering against his ribcage every time you so much as smile at him, every time you so much as look at him. In the hazy afterglow of a round of passionate morning sex (in which you’ve realized that fighting will get you nowhere – it’ll only earn you an Enji that’s more frantic and desperate to get you moaning and crying out his name), when he latches onto your smaller, exhausted and sweaty body, pressing you as tightly against him as possible, sometimes his demeanor will crack.

He’ll lean down to deeply inhale the scent of your hair, to watch the way your chest rises and falls, and he’ll whisper in the softest of voices that he loves you, you’re the light of his world. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you, but Enji is hellbent on never finding out – after all, there is no chance of escape with him, and he’s sure you’ll learn your place soon.

After all, pretty, submissive girls like you always do.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Enji is, regrettably, terrible at hiding his jealousy.

He’s always been in a constant state of envy, whether it was vying for the top spot in the heroing world against All Might, desiring the perfect offspring in order to have the Todoroki name and himself live on, and countless other examples. He’s prideful and so fucking jealous of everyone around him, and this is only heightened when it comes to you – his possessiveness over you is nothing to sneeze at, and the minute he feels that your attention is threatened, that you could possibly be yearning for another?

He’s wasting no time stepping in, mercilessly shutting down each and every opportunity you could possibly have of being with anyone other than himself.

As much as he’s loathe to admit it, his jealousy and possessiveness stems from a place of insecurity; he’s aware that he’s by no means the perfect partner, and he rationally knows that you could do much, much better than him.

And so, as a sort of panic-induced response, Enji decides that you simply aren’t allowed to interact with any other men – this way, you aren’t presented with the opportunity to even let the feelings form. And he’s diligent with this theory, too – he’s always standing near you, acting as your shadow with watchful, hawk-like eyes trained on your figure.

He’s never been the best at reading people, but he’s able to tell from miles away when someone approaches you with intentions that are less than innocent, and immediately his lips are thinning, his brows furrowing, his entire body temperature raising by five degrees because you’re his, and this piece of scum disguised as a man obviously doesn’t realize this.

He’s your guardian angel in many ways (though really, he takes the guardian portion much too far – even men who have no romantic intentions with you are viewed as potential threats, shooed away with a vengeance that will make them too afraid to even think about you without imagining themselves engulfed in flames), though at times it will make you feel more than a little patronized.

It’s as if he doesn’t trust you – you don’t really have a relationship, at least in your eyes, but you know the number one hero wants something more than friendship with you. And so, you do your best to avoid evoking his anger and wrath by not romantically involving yourself with another man – and yet that’s not enough for Enji.

It can’t be, simply because as pretty and sweet and smart as you may be, Enji will always know better. It’s a controlling tendency and a mildly sexist view, but he thinks of you as his doting, loving housewife-to-be, and it’s the man’s job to make these sorts of decisions.

You’re just too sweet and outgoing for your own good – you’ll get mixed up in all sorts of trouble if you’re not careful, and lucky little you has someone like Enji to watch out for you and make sure your pretty head has nothing to worry about. And so, Enji sticks to you like glue, warding off potential suitors with grueling stares and a presence and reputation too strong to ignore.

Enji’s day had been long, and one of those days that made him seriously question his abilities as a hero. A villain had managed to trick him, and although Enji had of course eventually arrested the perpetrator, his deception had led to a lot of wasted time and more damage to surrounding buildings than was acceptable.

His head was pounding, his body still feeling overly hot from all of the fighting, and though not normal, he’d decided he was done for the day and left the rest of the agency’s calls to his sidekicks. Leaving early had felt almost freeing in a way, the world looking a bit different with all this extra time – walking down the sidewalk, Enji scanned the windows of each shop he passed.

As per usual, you’d been on his mind all day – flashes of your face sitting just behind his eyelids, your name just a hair away on his tongue, the feeling of your phantom touch sending shivers down his spine. It was irritating, distracting, heavenly, and with each window he passed, he kept an eye out for anything you might like.

He’d gotten you a pretty tea cup set yesterday, and although you’d been hesitant and visibly uncomfortable at receiving such a gift (the set was very, very obviously expensive, the marbled china too perfect and pristine to have costed anything less than a year’s worth of your salary), Enji was eager to gift you something that would be received better today.

Streets passed by, nothing quite suiting his vision for what you deserved – he’d need something more subtle today, something simple and sweet and something he knows you like – The confectionary is small, with swirling black letters over a baby pink banner spelling out the name of the store. The windows are lined with all sorts of chocolates and candies, all wrapped up in pretty, ornate packaging that makes Enji immediately pick up his pace, practically storming into the small shop.

It smells like vanilla and sugar as the door shuts behind him, and although it makes him wince, he knows you’d love it. Shelves nearly as tall as him line the shop in narrow rows, displaying all sorts of sweets that he’s never heard of before – caramels, gumdrops, chocolates, lollipops, anything and everything under the sun.

He’s only been in the store for roughly five minutes, staring at a collection of truffles with furrowed brows and a downward curl of his lip when he hears a small laugh over the gentle, happy classical music playing quietly over the speakers. Immediately he’s perking up – the laugh sounds familiar; the lilt of it, the tonality, the soft intake of breath right after it stops.

His lips part, eyes going wide, and before he can even really control himself he’s rushing towards the source of the noise, his entire face growing warm when he sees you – you’re at the register, a few candies sitting on the wooden slab, your purse in hand as you fish for presumably your wallet.

You look gorgeous today – you’re wearing a shirt he’s never seen before and your favorite pair of jeans (the ones that make your ass look so, so very perfect – perfect to squeeze at, to grope and touch and smack and press himself against…), and although he’s briefly disappointed that you aren’t wearing an item of clothing that he’d gifted you, he notices the clerk all too soon.

The clerk – Hyoshi, his nametag says – is smiling at you. He’s all teeth, a grin that makes the hairs on the back of Enji’s neck stand up, his nostrils flaring because you’d been laughing, and it must be this man’s doing. This man, who’s visibly weak even under the ridiculous confectionary uniform he’s sporting – arms that couldn’t hope to lift even a fraction of what Enji can, a chest that isn’t ruggedly defined like the hero’s, and a stature that’s frankly pathetic compared to the frame of the redheaded man behind you.

Enji’s angry, and as the man opens his mouth to presumably say something else (potentially something that’ll make you laugh again), his words die on his tongue as he glances behind you to see the behemoth of a man who’s quite literally acting as your shadow.

His eyes widen and immediately he’s stuttering out a w-welcome in, Endeavor! At that, your shoulders go stiff, your mouth parting into an adorable little ‘o’ that Enji can practically see in his head, and you slowly turn around.

Oh, hello Endeavor, aren’t you normally on patrol right now?

Enji’s jaw works, and although a small part of him is pleasantly surprised that you’d remembered his patrol shift, your words only serve to further frustrate him. You knew it was his time on the clock – and yet, you’d still ventured out into the heart of downtown, completely on your own, defenseless except for the measly, very sad pepper spray you keep in that worn purse of yours – both of which he keeps pleading with you to let him replace.

(He’ll get you new pepper spray and a taser and a pocketknife, just because he knows how dangerous these streets can be, and with your pretty face and your pretty body he’s sure villains would be lining out the door to get a taste of you. And of course, the new bag – he’s bought you plenty, in a wide variety of styles and colors, each gift getting more and more desperate to be the one you finally deem as being good enough to use, but alas.)

Enji doesn’t even bother with a greeting, instead stepping up to the counter, slamming down his credit card and stepping in front of you. I’ll be paying for her sweets. His voice is cold, firm, and sends the clerk into a scurry to process the transaction, meanwhile you’re staring in mild shock from behind the hero.

Of course you’re not surprised – how can you be, when he insists on spoiling you in every possible way? And yet the raw animosity he’s radiating right now can’t be ignored – you get the feeling as if you’re somehow in trouble, though you can’t figure out what for. As soon as the card reader beeps, Enji’s scooping up the card and your sweets, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist just barely too tightly and marching out the door, telling the clerk over his shoulder to keep the receipt.

It takes every bone in his body to not turn back around and swing at the man behind the counter, his eyes shutting tightly in concentration as he tells himself that it’s not worth it, the media will find out, your reputation will be damaged. But as his eyes peel open and he realizes the way you’re squirming in his grip, he only sighs and releases you, those teal eyes of his appraising you with a frown.

You’re feeling guilty again, unsure of yourself as you gently rub your wrist, and for a moment Enji feels regret – did he hurt you? He hadn’t meant to, he’d just been angry and it was already hard enough to not harm the man who’d made you laugh, and surely you’d understand that he didn’t mean to –

You break the silence before he can voice his concerns, clearing your throat and thanking him in a meek voice. Enji merely nods, a small grunt your only response as he begins walking again, your sweets – and your purse – firmly in his hands, just so that you won’t have to carry them.

When you don’t immediately follow him, Enji pauses, looking back over his shoulder with a brow cocked.

What? Follow me – we have dinner reservations this evening, at that new seafood restaurant by the harbor. Fuyumi tells me it’s quite good; order the crab legs and the caviar.

There’s no room for disagreement in his tone, and for a moment you just blankly gape at him, the situation too strange for you to really process.

But all too soon his eyes are narrowing, and you’re practically tripping over your feet to follow him, keeping your gaze cast downwards as Enji’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you even though there’s not a civilian in sight on the desolated sidewalk he leads you down.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Honestly, Enji is complicated as a yandere; there’s a part of him that knows that there are aspects of his relationship with you that mirror that of his previous marriage. He knows that although you may not be treated as terribly (and that you have more purpose to him than simply an incubator), you’re still trapped, essentially a slave to his will.

And yet, as time passes and his dependence on you grows stronger, he can’t help but justify his actions, deciding that yes, you may be stuck with him, but at least he spoils you rotten with your favorite foods, expensive clothing and jewels, an unlimited supply for each and every hobby you may have. He may have you trapped between a rock and a hard place in terms of leaving him, but at least he genuinely loves you - he aches to spend time with you, to hold you in his arms, to feel your heartbeat against his ear, your lips against his, your body writhing below his.

He’s convinced himself that this time is different, that you’re different, and as such he eventually decides that it’s really in both your best interests to just relocate you, to get you officially by his side. It’s really paranoia that drives this decision – he’s a working hero and a man with many, many enemies, and so it’s really the only option that keeps you safe.

Stealing you away into his private home – he’s the sole inhabitant, aside from a cleaner or two, since moving out of the Todoroki household – is the best option for a multitude of different reasons. You’re safer this way – the state-of-the-art security systems he’s installed around the estate are the best money can pay for, able to detect intruders and any suspicious activity in the blink of an eye. Enemies don’t have much of a chance of getting inside, and even if they had managed to, Enji will be right there to burn them to a crisp for even daring to get close to his beloved.

And even aside from outside threats, keeping you trapped at home will allow him to keep an eye on you and make sure that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself – you’re ridiculously clumsy to him, your every action having him hold his breath slightly in anticipation, in fear that you’ll somehow trip or fall or bruise your pretty skin. Plus, this way he’ll know that you’re eating healthily and in the right quantities, that you’re getting proper exercise, that you’re relaxing as you should, that you’re spending adequate amounts of time in the interior courtyard he’d prepared in preparation for you.

(It’s beautiful, as loathe as you are to admit it – all kinds of flowers bloom along the walkways, bamboo and tall grasses and trees growing in neat lines and providing shade for the flowerbeds on hot summer days. There’s even a small stream flowing through it, the gentle trickling noise almost enough to cancel out the painful silence that exists between you and Enji when he decides to join you for your scheduled garden time in the afternoons – uninvited, as always, and yet still unable to sense how desperately you wish you’d get these times alone to yourself.)

Aside from your safety, keeping you in his home helps feeds into his domestic fantasies of the two of you – you’re so very precious to him, and from nearly the beginning of his obsession with you, he’s always viewed you as the perfect wife – specifically, the perfect housewife.

He’s a traditional man, believing in traditional gender roles, and although he doesn’t view you as being less-than based upon your status as a woman, he does expect certain things from you. He’s the breadwinner, the strong, capable one who provides you with a roof over your head, food, and any gift under the sun the moment you make even the slightest inclination of wanting it.

And in return, you’re to be his caring, nurturing wife – the one who keeps the house neat and tidy, a room dedicated to only cleaning supplies that you get always stay stocked and ready for you, should you become inspired and wish to fulfill this domestic fantasy of his. The cleaning products are all diluted down to a level that wouldn’t be dangerous if you were to ingest them – you’d get sick, surely, but it’s nothing a home-trip from a doctor who’s been sworn to secrecy can’t handle.

There’s also, unfortunately, a drawer within the room that a particularly bored you had one day opened only to immediately slam it shut. Dozens of cleaning outfits sat neatly folded in the drawer, the black and white getups looking much too tight and much too short. A few weeks later you’d returned to the drawer, bored out of your mind while Enji was away at work, peeling one out with careful and trembling fingers. And of course, to no one’s surprise, the outfit fit like a fucking glove – hugging your curves and accentuating them, the skirt full and flouncy and very easy to flip up, the bustline practically choking your breasts with how tightly the black cotton pressed them together. You’d changed out of it shortly after, the rather disturbing and shameful fleeting question of whether this was the type of thing Enji liked making you too disgusted, guilty, and bashful to really consider.

In his idealized domestic world, you’d cook for him, too, but it takes a very long time for him to trust you enough to not purposefully burn or cut yourself in the kitchen. He has daydreams about coming home from a hectic work day to see you standing over the stove in a cute apron, humming some song and lighting up when you hear the door open and close, his announcement of being home making you practically bounce on your heels.

He wants to have you cook for him, to see you slave in the kitchen putting every ounce of your concentration and time into making him a meal you know he’ll enjoy, but that fantasy has to wait for the time being – just until he thinks you’ve finally lost that rebellious streak of yours, just until you finally come to realize that you belong by Enji’s side.

And so, in the meantime he’ll have you make him small things that hold little potential for you to hurt yourself with – simple sandwiches with pre-sliced ingredients, so that you won’t cut yourself chopping tomatoes or slicing bread. He'll have you prepare a sandwich for him and one for yourself, too, ordering you to sit down at the dining table with him and share a meal – though the conversation is hard to come by, and each attempt he makes at starting it is only met with single word answers from you.

(Another domestic fantasy he harbors but would never tell you about is to have you sitting with him at the table, looking at him with those pretty eyes and your voice dropping to a sultry volume, your chopsticks bringing the food you diligently and loving prepared for him up to his lips, your tone teasing as you tell him to open wide! He’d keep eye contact the whole time he chews, never once breaking it as he tells you in that low, gruff voice of his that it’s perfectly done, the seasoning is impeccable. He wants you to be bashful, to smile and hide it with your hand, your lashes fluttering as you glance at him then back to the food again, too shy to say much but your body language showing just how much his praise effects you, just how good it feels to be the center of his attention, the apple of his eye, his absolute everything.)

He wants you to be his sweet housewife, and although he won’t force you into any of the work, it’s extremely obvious what he wants of you – he’s always telling you about when you get adjusted, how you’ll be more open to fulfilling your role.

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be happy to iron his clothes; perhaps you’ll spritz a bit of the perfume he buys you onto his shirts, just as a reminder of you during his long days.

(As if he needs a reminder – certainly not, when you’re on his mind nearly every minute of the day.)

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be pleased to see the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hands, your voice riddled with joy as you announce the good news to him, watching him drop the phone and keys in his hand and instead hoist you into the air, spinning you with a grin on his face so bright it nearly blinds you, concluded with a passionate kiss and a few tears on his cheeks because he just can’t fucking wait to have you as the mother of his child.

It’s all this talk of ‘when this’ and ‘when that’, but the strange thing about Enji as a captor is that he’s incredibly patient with seeing these fantasies come to fruition – sure, he may be forcing you into being a housewife just as he did with Rei, but this is different – you get a choice about some of it, unlike her. You don’t have to do the dishes, but you can if you’d like. You don’t have to bear his children, but you can if you’d like.

(And frankly, it’ll be hard not to – once your need for human contact and your strange, mixed feelings for him grow, you’ll eventually give into his requests for intimacy, and once the floodgates are open, you will end up pregnant from the sheer frequency and volume at which he pumps you full of his cum.)

All that being said, life as Enji’s captive will honestly not be too terrible – he’s still following you around the house like a shadow, but he’ll let you sleep in your own bed at the start, let you have your own bedroom and bathroom, and he won’t even force you into spending time with him at the beginning.

Because really, as tortuous and painful as keeping you away from him is, he repeats the mantra over and over in his head that eventually it’ll be worth it – eventually you’ll see things his way, and eventually you’ll come to see just how deeply his feelings for you run. You’ll realize that he’s only ever loved you, that he cares for you more than any other man possibly could, that he only has your best interests at heart – that’s why he always swung by your apartment at the end of his patrols, peering in at you through your windows, just to make sure you were safe and sound.

That’s why he kidnapped you, to ensure your safety and keep you in the arms of the only man truly capable of providing for you, just as you deserve.

That’s why he’ll never let you escape him, no matter how you beg and plead for your freedom – you don’t understand the outside world like he does. You think you do, but each villain he arrests is a nail in the coffin of your freedom – you have no fucking clue how dangerous the world is, and Enji isn’t hesitant to remind you of this.

You’re unhappy with him? Well, your options are here, in his warm house where he’s willing to give you every ounce of his attention, love, and touch, or out in the big, scary world where women like you are easy targets for men who love destroying easy targets.

So really, you’re in the best hands with Enji – he knows how to take care of you, and he’ll spoil you with every possible treasure you could want. What’s not to be happy about?

PUNISHMENTS:

As a general rule, Enji doesn’t ‘do’ punishments. Because he views his relationship with you as his second try at finding a companion, there is no part of him that actively desires to hurt you. He loves you, in some sick, twisted way that’s much too obsessive and desperate to ever be considered healthy, but it’s still love nonetheless.

And as such, Enji does genuinely want your relationship to be as wholesome and sweet as possible; he wants you to want him, to actively choose to spend your time with him, to want to be in his presence every moment of every day. He wants everything to be as perfect as possible – the idealized life, a life where he’s the number one hero coming home to his lovely wife who cherishes him and he cherishes in return.

And so, when you do something that doesn’t quite line up with this fantasy, Enji is understandably upset. Why can’t you just accept that this is your reality now? Why do you insist on fighting him, even when you know you won’t win? How could you?

He’s Enji Todoroki, Endeavor the Flame Hero, and you’re just you. You’re pretty, of course, and smart and sweet and caring, but you’re still just you. There’s nothing you can do against someone like him – which is why Enji is able to excuse your poor behavior most of the time.

He understands; it’s difficult to accept that you’re weak and powerless, and he understands that when you lash out and act out, you’re just expressing frustration and fear at being taken care of so wholly and completely by someone so much stronger than you. It must be scary, after all – Enji can be so intimidating and he knows it, so he’ll try his absolute best to calm down anytime his anger starts to flare.

The last thing he wants to do is harm you, and he wants everything in your relationship to be as different as possible from that with Rei – and hurting you in any way would too closely resemble his previous marriage, ruining the beautiful illusion he can live under with you.

And so, most of the time Enji is able to grit his teeth and shut his eyes, letting the anger subside by telling himself about all the wonderful things about you – things that always get him feeling calmer, that make the buzzing sensation in his head and the suffocating feeling of anger dissipate. Nine times out of ten, he’s able to calm himself down this way – and if that’s not enough, normally exiting the room and getting a breath of fresh air is enough. He’ll tell himself that he absolutely cannot fall into the same habits he did with Rei – you’re different, you’re special, and he’ll calm himself down as often as he needs to in order to avoid being seen by you as the big, scary man who will hurt you if you disobey him.

Thus, getting Enji angry enough to the point where he can’t simply calm himself down is actually quite difficult – generally, this involves you hurting yourself. Most other things he can twist into seeming not so bad, rather just being you not having adjusted to life as his woman quite yet. He can write off your escape attempts as you still clinging to this ludicrous sense of independence you seem so hellbent on keeping.

Attempts to harm him can be discarded as your misplaced sense of anger at your situation, because although in your heart of hearts he’s sure you’re happy to be in your natural familial setting (as the wife of a strong, capable man of course), you’ve confused yourself by trying to reject something that’s just so right.

Of course these events don’t make him happy, but they’re able to be disregarded – but when your blood is drawn by your own accord, even Enji can’t pretend this is something else. This is you purposefully trying to injure yourself, purposefully trying to show him that you aren’t happy, that you don’t want this – an idea that makes him panic, that sends his fists clenching, that gets him pacing and his mind racing as he tries to figure out how to set you straight without harming you. And so, Enji eventually decides that after he cleans up your injury, rather than simply hitting you

and physically showing you that he won’t stand for this sort of misbehavior, he has to be more restrictive with you. He won’t be so lenient for the days following your bad behavior – you won’t be so spoiled, your rights won’t be so freely handed to you.

You must understand that Enji is charge, and that he’s being generous and loving and kind by allowing you such free reign around your shared home. Really, he doesn’t need to be so generous – and he’ll teach you that an angry Enji is much, much worse than the normal doting, lovesick Enji you’re used to.

Enji is frozen as he opens the front door. He’d come home a bit early from running some errands, the groceries in his hand dropping onto the hardwood floors below him. His jaw is dropped a bit, the sight of your bright red blood staining your forearm making a wave of sickness wash over him.

Who did this?

Who could’ve hurt you like this? There’d been no security alerts while he was gone, and there was absolutely no way that you’d left the interior of this house in the two hours he was gone. In the next breath he’s rushing forward into the kitchen, by your side before you can even blink, paying no mind to the way you gasp and stumble away from him, as if you’re afraid of him.

It makes Enji’s chest ache, but the sight of your blood is too distracting for him to focus on the uncomfortable ache. Instead, he’s thrusting your arm under the kitchen sink, the lukewarm water making you wince ever so slightly as it runs over the wound.

Enji’s brows furrow as he examines your arm; the cuts are long, zigzagging in every direction in a way that looks strange, not like any normal attack pattern he’s seen before. This doesn’t look natural, either – not like a regular scratch, not like you just slipped and fell and had unfortunate luck. No, this looks like something else entirely – like something purposeful, like their appearance marring your pretty skin isn’t accidental in the least. It’s only then that Enji sees the glinting silver fork out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the edge of the counter with a bit of red staining the ends.

Immediately his body is freezing, his grip on your arm squeezing tighter as the gears turn in his mind. You must have…

His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth, those blue eyes of his slanting over to look at you with such intensity and anger that you physically shrink in on yourself. His grip is too firm for you to pull your arm back, Enji absolutely unwilling to let you run away from this.

Did you do this to yourself?

His voice is surprisingly even, given the look on his face, and immediately you’re shaking your head, your entirely body paralyzed with fear. You’ve never seen Enji look this scary before – or at least not towards you.

Your answer only serves to further anger him, it seems, because soon he’s literally snarling, his face twisted up into this ugly look of rage that’s only heightened by the scar across his eye.

Don’t lie to me, I will always be able to tell when you’re untruthful with me. He pauses, taking a deep breath, his voice just the slightest bit unsteady. Did you do this to yourself?

This time you nod yes, tears prickling at your eyes and starting to spill down your cheeks, and at the sound Enji makes, they only flow faster. He looks like he’s in more pain than you are – his face is red, and a few flames lick up around his shoulders. The heat washes over you, and soon the begs are slipping off your tongue before you can help yourself.

Enji pays you no mind, every ounce of his self-control going towards not slapping you in the face for your blatant stupidity. Soon he’s letting go of your hand, stomping towards the small first aid kit he keeps in the kitchen, entirely silent as he carefully wraps your arm in bandages, not paying your rambling any attention or mind.

As soon as you’re securely bandaged, he leaves the room and you hear the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut reverberating throughout the house.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, with you somehow getting from the floor of the kitchen where you’d laid down and eventually fallen asleep all the way to your bed, with the blankets carefully slotted over your body.

Nothing seems to be amiss the next morning, your footsteps cautious as you approach the bathroom, your brows shooting up when you notice that the counter is completely bare – your toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash are all missing, as are all the expensive lotions and facial scrubs Enji normally keeps in piles for your convenience.

The kitchen is empty, too, you notice – the silverware drawer is completely empty, and there are no cups or mugs of any sort in any of the cupboards. It’s unnerving, and immediately you’re getting goosebumps all over your body, the air feeling prickly and cold, as if there’s something lurking that you don’t know about. Biting your lip, you make your way to the table, gingerly sitting down and trying not to jostle the bandages too much – the bandages that had been changed, you distantly notice.

A few minutes later, Enji joins you in the kitchen, his expression not exactly jovial, but not particularly hostile. He greets you as he normally does, before placing the mug you now notice is in his hand under sink. The sound of rushing water gets your mouth watering, not having realized how thirsty you were until this moment.

Wide eyes watch him turn towards you, making his way to your seated figure with slow, heavy steps that get your heart thudding in his chest. He stops right next to you, before telling you to open your mouth. Hesitantly, you do as he says, jerking slightly when his fingertips – always unnaturally warm – cup your chip and bring the cup up to your lips, the water cold as you’re forced to drink it.

Enji watches with neutral eyes, though you see the corner of his lip curl up slightly as you drink the entire glass, the pacing of the water flow nearly too much and nearly choking you. Soon it’s gone, and Enji uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your lips.

Since yesterday’s little spectacle has shown me that you can’t be trusted with basic household supplies, let me know if you require another drink, if you’d like to brush your teeth, or if you’d like to wash your hair. You obviously can’t do it alone, so I will be joining you. Now, go lay down on the couch. I need to change your wrappings again.

You’re dumbfounded, watching him keep the mug in his grasp as he heads towards the living room. And though the threat seems too extreme, Enji means it – you only last a few hours before you reluctantly ask for another drink, your throat too dry and sore to go without it.

And that night, when you shamefully ask him for your toothbrush, you’re not particularly pleased to find out that he’ll be the one brushing your teeth, using his very own toothbrush to get the job done, just to make sure you don’t even think about trying to choke yourself with the brush.

(And when you finally have to shower, well, Enji’s face turns bright red when you ask, rushing to his feet much too quickly, grasping your hand and practically pulling you to the bathroom before applying all sorts of soaps and scents to the bath he draws for you. His breath is hitched as he turns around so you can change in privacy, but don’t be surprised to see him sneaking glances at your bare body beneath the water’s bubbly surface. Don’t be surprised when later that night you hear a suspiciously rhythmic thumping sound and muffled groans through the wall that your bedrooms share, the faintest wet, squelching noise accompanying them.)

And, roughly a week later when you wake up to the cups and mugs back in the cupboard and your shampoo back in the shower, you’ll decide against hurting yourself anytime soon. It’s not worth it – not if that’s how you’ll be treated; forced to ask permission for your basic needs.

And Enji couldn’t be more pleased – now you’ll think twice about using that fork again, or anything else for that matter.

(And he can still force you into using his toothbrush – under the guise of furthering your bond and intimacy, of course. And because he’ll use it after you, savoring the feeling of the bristles against his tongue like some sort of drug.)

OVERALL DANGER:

7/10

Enji isn’t necessarily dangerous, but rather inevitable.

He’s a determined man, driven by motivation for his goals, no matter the methods he uses to get there. And once he sets his sights on you, deciding that he wants you, that he loves you, you’re certainly no different – he will have you, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. He’s a force to be reckoned with, and really, what sway do you have?

He’s a professional hero, known in the public sphere responsible for saving more lives than you could ever hope to, and who are you? You’re just a pretty face, a woman who happened to have the exact set of traits and physical appearance that Enji finds desirable – you have no real way to combat him, and who would believe you, anyway? Enji is the new symbol of peace – as far as the Commission is concerned, he can have whatever the hell he wants, and if that one thing is some civilian, then you can kiss your freedom goodbye.

But really, all things considered, Enji isn’t too terrible – he’s trying desperately to right his wrongs, to love you in a way that prioritizes your happiness and is just better, and although you’re certainly not happy being trapped by his side, he can at least pretend like this is better.

He wants you to be his pretty little thing, to be his housewife and treat him like your devoted, loving husband. He wants you to greet him with a kiss on the lips when he comes home from work, helping him out of his jacket and asking about his day, then lead him into the clean kitchen where you’ve got dinner waiting for him, then join him in the shower and then the bed, letting his hands wander to where they please, then fall asleep on his chest, letting him feel like he’s protecting you even in his sleep.

Is that really so much to ask for? Enji thinks not – besides, isn’t that the dream for you?

All you have to do is let him take care of you, to spoil you with flowers and chocolates and jewelry and all sorts of things that make women swoon. You’ll be spoiled rotten, treated like a goddess, and all you have to do is let Enji make all the decisions for you, to let him take control of your life and your future – it’s better this way, he promises.

This way, you’ll be properly cared for, kept safe and secure and comfortable by his side. You may not see it yet, but Enji is sure this is really what you want – you’ll come around eventually, he’s sure of it.

And if you don’t? Well, at least he’s not a monster, right?

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere enji todoroki #yandere endeavor #_lee's profiles #_enji todoroki #_bnha #endeavor x reader #enji todoroki x reader

569 notes · View notes

black-aurora-nora · 1 year

Text

New Baby Pt. 2 | Yandere!Todoroki Family x Reader

Quiet sobs could be heard from behind the door of the room you now slept in.

Enji had thought you'd be more understanding and compliant if you received a letter and 'paperwork' showing that your parents had given the Todoroki's legal guardianship over you.

However, to his shock, that only seemed to upset you more.

You asked him to leave the room in such a thin, sullen voice that he couldn't help but oblige.

Now he, and the rest of the family, were sitting at the dinner table watching their food go cold.

Your seat was still empty.

All eyes were on Enji, wondering what the next move was.

"I'll... I'll get (Y/N) out of her room by lunchtime," He said. "Even if she's still upset."

Rei nodded, shifting her attention to her kids, "And make sure that everyone is extra nice today. (Y/N) has obviously felt some big feelings and I don't want her to get too overwhelmed like yesterday. Understood?"

Three nods and Rei smiled back in answer, "Good."

When it was time for lunch, just like Enji had said, he got you out of your room.

Everyone's hearts crumbled at the sight of you. Your eyes were puffy underneath and red. It was obvious all you did today was cry your heart out.

At the table, you were seated between Enji and Rei.

You could feel everyone staring at you while you tried to eat.

When you couldn’t take the staring anymore, you put your utensils down, unable to make eye contact as you asked, “How long will I be staying here?”

“There’s no telling.” Enji answered firmly, “If your parents can get back on their feet, they will come back and get you.”

You shuffled in your seat slightly. “How long will that take?”

“Let’s not discuss this over dinner, sweetheart.” Reid’s voice cut in.

There was no need for you to keep thinking about your old parents anyway. It made you too upset. She’d be a much better mommy anyhow. You’d see soon enough and would forget all about your other mom.

After dinner, Fuyumi took you to the shower room.

“Here, you get the use the shower before the dirty boys do.” She smiled kindly.

She made sure you had the proper necessities and even let you pick out whatever body wash you wanted from her personal collection.

You liked how kind she was. It was nothing like Enji, who was always towering over you and bleeding with intimidation.

“Just shout if you need something.” She told you and left you alone.

A nice wash and soak was a good start to bettering your mood. Maybe you could ask Enji or Rei if you could call your parents tomorrow to get a better idea of the situation.

It wasn’t like them to just leave a letter.

Wrapped in a towel, you strolled back to your room to find Rei sitting on your bed.

Beside her was a pair of expensive-looking silk pajamas.

She smiled at you despite the uncomfortable look on your face, “I hope you don’t mind that I picked out some pajamas for you. We bought these for you last minute.” She explained coolly.

She stood up, “We can go shopping this week to get you your own clothes, how does that sound, (Y/N)?” She tilted her head at you, waiting for an answer.

You clutched the towel closer to your body, “What about my old clothes?”

She chuckled at you, as if you’d said something silly.

“You don’t need to worry about that. New clothes never hurt anybody.”

You supposed that was true. It would probably be nice to get out.

You walked over to the pajamas and then looked over at Rei. Why hadn’t she left yet?

She didn’t seem to be taking the hint and threw you a concerned glance, “What’s wrong? Do you need my help?”

You immediately shook your head, “No!” You yelped. “I-I need privacy, please… Mrs. Todoroki.”

“Oh! Of course you do!” How could Rei have forgotten? You were a big girl. Of course you could dress yourself.

She left the room, standing right outside in case you needed help at any point.

Once you had your pajamas on, you had to admit that they felt quite nice. The silk was soft and smooth. It was comfortably cool against your skin as well.

At some point as you finished getting ready for bed, you gasped sharply when you banged your hand against the counter of the vanity in your room.

Rei burst into the room.

"Did you hurt yourself?!" Rei asked, panic clear in her voice. She reached out for your hand and you yanked it back, "Let mama see, (Y/N)," She told you sternly.

You flinched at the word.

Mama.

You looked at her as if she'd grown another head and frowned deeply, "You... You're not my mom, Mrs. Todoroki."

Rei looked so upset at that declaration that you would've thought you'd shot her.

You could see that she was incredibly hurt by what you'd said but she masked it with a smile, chuckling to herself, "Right, of course I'm not... Force of habit."

After an awkward goodnight, she left your room disheartened.

Enji was waiting for her in their shared room, arms crossed with a frown. “What the hell is wrong with you, woman?!”

Rei flinched back, “I jus-“

“You’re moving too fast, is what you’re doing! Stop forcing yourself on her! Do you want her to hate you?”

“No, Enji, I don’t.”

“Then slow down. I had to pay a good amount to get guardianship of (Y/N). We can’t mess this up because you can’t control yourself.”

Rei kept her head down, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll apologize to (Y/N) tomorrow.”

Enji huffed approvingly, laying down in his bed and turning over.

This wasn’t going to be easy for either one of you.

Taglist:

@yumuramma

1K notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 9 months

Note

I was rereading some of your works and this line stuck out to me

‘Enji is keeping up with all your cravings, no matter how weird. You're craving ice chips? Alright. You want ice cream at 3 am? The fridge is stocked with your favs. Oh no, you want soft serve? Its okay, princess, I'll drive us there. I'm sure they'll open the store for the no. 1 hero.’

I immediately pictured him, banging on the front door of the shop, absolutely panicked because his “baby” is hungry for ice cream and is worried that she’ll cry because of pregnancy hormones

HAHAHAHAHA YESSSSSS and like u can't blame him??? He's already so protective of you as his daughter, but not that you're pregnant with Ratsuki's baby, his protectiveness increases ten folds. Who knows what that devil's spawn is doing to your poor body???? How much pain you're in because of Ratsuki's baby????

Ugh, he just- even if you tell him how excited you are to gave this baby, Enji just can't stop fretting over you because you're his baby! Always were, and always will be!

Yandere dad Enji with pregnant daughter reader is literally so cute because there is nothing that will stop this man from making sure that you are healthy and comfortable and yes, he will still hold you whenever you're feeling down, baby bump or not, you weigh nothing to him🥰

You're feeling emotional and end up calling Enji (instead of Katsuki cause he's busy with work) and he hears a wobble in your voice? BAm, papa is at your door step in 10 minutes with ice cream and snacks and warm cuddles. Feel free to bitch about Katsuki to him (actually dont, he will kill him)

Ever since you got married and moved in with Katsuki, Enji had been missing your company. And once you had returned from your honeymoon and visited him, he realised just how terribly he missed you. So of course he grabs any opportunity to spend time with you. Baby checkup? Okay, papa Enji is coming to pick you up. Grocery shopping? How odd that he's also out of groceries. Cmon, lets shop together, and maybe some cute (SUPER EXPENSIVE, LUXURY BRANDED) maternity and baby clothes to spoil you. Nothing to do at home? Well, you can always help out dad at his work! Enji's sending a car to drive you to his company 🥰 And its like, even if you do have plans with Katsuki, Enji will pull some strings to make sure that Katsuki gets stuck at work while you sulk at home, awaiting your husband. But Enji will come to console you, cry on his shoulder baby. Sometimes, Enji will drop by unannounced, especially if he finds out that you're spending the weekend with Katsuki's parents. He'll be bringing in a boquet, kissing you on the cheek, before wrapping his coat around you, telling you that you must come home with him right away. And you're all like "??? Dad! I'm here with my in laws. I cant just up and leave-!" And he pulls the big sad eyes and says "Its Rei." and you automatically sigh and nod before going to apologise to Kats parents for cancelling your plans with them, claiming there's a "family emergency", which isnt a lie because yandere Rei is an EMERGENCY at all times. Its just, you've always known your mother's mental health was detoriating, but the rate at which it detoriated increased ten folds when you moved out. She's always been protective of you, because of all the trauma and because you're her youngest, so of course... she took it the hardest when you left her side to be with Katsuki. And before your marriage, you swore to your father that you'll always be there to help him with Mom, whenever needed, no questions asked. Its the only reason Enji gave you his blessing marry RATsuki. So whenever he misses you too much, he tells you that Rei is having another "episode" where she's screaming your name, crying that someone took you away and is hurting you, is resorting to harming herself, etc. And sometimes Rei does have these epiosdes, other times she doesnt, but it doesnt matter to either of them because if they want u home, you will come. And as soon as Enji has brought you to the Todoroki estate, your're running (or waddling) inside, immeadiately engulfed by your mother who will now proceed to coddle you and fret over you non stop for the next couple of days (spoon feeding you her food, brushing your hair until you dose off, rubbing your baby bump while humming lullabies. Enji's having the best time too becuase he gets to tuck you in at night and wake u in the morning and have more daddy-daughter ice cream dates with yall) until she's better or... well, your husbands comes to fetch you.

And Rat- KATSUKI, sees through all their BULLSHIT! But you dont and thats why he cant call them out on it. Thats why he must be the more patient one between him and your greedy parents.

#yandere enji todoroki #yandere enji #yandere rei todoroki #yandere rei #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere todoroki clan #yandere endeavor #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #platonic yandere #yandere todoroki family

779 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months

Note

Could you do Platonic Yanderes Endeavor (reformed), Aizawa, Present Mic, with a child darling who wears a mask and basically said screw hero life and became a vigilante + them finding out there a kid under the mask

Child Vigilante Reader | Yandere Boku No Hero Academia

They recognized that you were short and the words you’d say sounded funny in your deep voice modulator. But it still came as a surprise when they pulled that mask off your face to reveal the lightly battered face of a young child:

Aizawa Shota

Just by your height and general instinct as a hero he’s always putting a protective arm in front of you

And he figures your young with your insistent yells that ‘you’re not a kid’

Only to pick up your injured body taking off your mask to check if your okay

Only to be filled with an overwhelming urge to protect you as he registered how little you are

You’re his kid now

No questions asked

He takes you to his home, having had you checked up by the doctors

He’ll do his research find out what you’re homelife is like

when you don’t show up and a fuss isn’t raise he takes it upon himself to officially adopt you

“You’re not my dad!”

“Your papers don’t say so!”

“Then give ‘em to me I’ll burn it now!”

“No!”

He’s used to dealing with rowdy kids

And he’s willing to deal with your now unpowered fits

And most animosity is cleared up when he gives you some food

You’ll try to run away but he catches you everytime

And eventually you’ll fall into a cycle

Where you join him as you fight crime

Then you go home and live the domestic life with Aizawa

He doesn’t stop you until he feels like its too dangerous and when you’re lured into a false sense of security

“Sorry kid, I can’t have you getting hurt. Trust me this is an act of love.”

Hizashi Yamada

He probably quietly follows you at the end of a long day

Doing the thing he’s never doing around you: Being Quiet

Usually he doesn’t mind working with you

After a couple attempts to bring you in he doesn’t anymore

And instead just works in harmony with you

Usually joking and bantering with you to turn down all his jokes

But he’s horrified to know that your a kid

Young enough to be his kid is so nonreactive to his animated actions

What made you so serious!?

He does the same as Aizawa

Finds out your homelife and legally takes control

“Whazzup kiddo! Guess who’s your new daddy!?”

“A bumbling frat boy idiot-hero?”

“Ack! H-how do you even know to insult me like that!?”

He’s not the best at catching you if you try to run away

But you’re so lucid you’ll end up willingly moving in with him

because child services

He tries

He really does

But you’re such a little adult you end up teaching him how to properly take care of you

He doesn’t really restrict you because you seem like you’re so smart

You usually outsmart him enough to keep doing your vigilante work

But the one time he outsmarts you, he might get some help you’re stuck

At least for this major battle you were prepared to die defeating

“Sorry baby bird, but I can’t have you getting hurt. That’s for your papa to deal with!”

Todoroki Enji (Reformed)

“And you’ll be going away for a loong time.”

“Yes…thank you for your help with this one.”

“Of course! Always happy to help!”

“...”

“...Now reveal yourself to me!”

“Hey!? Let me go!”

He’s suspected you were young from the beginning

And it infuriates him now

That some idiot father of yours would let you run around like this

They’re probably as bad as he was

And he can’t let that be

So he’ll go to your family’s home

And tear them a new one

Practically bullying them into signing adoption papers or at the very least making you meet up with him weekly daily

He’s such an old man

Lecturing you about how you dress

Scolding you when he finds you fighting villains

He’ll force a bunch of tracking devices and bugs in your room

So that he can keep you safe

And when it gets real he doesn’t mind locking you wherever he decides is best

“I’ve done…a lot of horrible things. I’ve hurt my family. I’ve hurt my fans. And you’ll probably hate me but you need me to protect you, to guide you. So trust me, this is for your own good.”

896 notes · View notes

remember-to-be-gentle · 11 months

Note

Friend, I just screamed. SCREAMED.

How about this~ if I may request an Enji that happens to see a perfect little darling happening by and can't help himself...

...I'll happily write a request for you in exchange!

You'll get yours 😈 when I think of one

Subject: BNHA, Enji Todoroki aka Endeavor

Title: Future

Trigger Warning: Obsessive behavior, kidnapping, fantasizing, breeding (mentioned), Enji is a Karen confirmed

Enji fumed walking to his tailor. He had received a message from one of his sidekicks stating that his presence was "unnegotiable" at tonight's charity gala and worse, he needed a new suit within a handful of hours because he'd put on so much muscle mass that he'd burst out of his old one. It was turning out to be a rough and irritating day.

He shoved open the door to the shop, the little bell jingling to make his presence known--as if he needed it when his heavy footsteps.

A tiny figure popped up from behind the counter. "Just a minute! Mr. Ao is currently working with another client but I'll be more than happy to help when I put these swatches away."

Great, the apprentice. Well, it didn't matter to him as long as you sewed his suit correctly. He was paying good money for the best possible service, after all.

He didn't pay much attention when you lead him to a private fitting room. It wasn't until you closed the door that he remembered where he was. The private room was decently sized with a rack of premade jackets to the side, three mirrors that caught every angle in the room, a small table full of sewing equipment, and of course the dark wooded chair for Enji to sit in.

In this room alone with you, he finally processed who he was looking at. You. With your pretty little sewing apron and messy hair. Your tiny but nimble hands unwrapping the measuring tape. The way you politely commanded him to lift his arms as if you could possibly command him to do anything...

He wanted you. Bad.

Feeling your hard-working hands wrap around the meat of his muscles, giving a gentle squeeze to measure the give for the fabric. Your short arms struggling to wrap around his waist, pulling the measuring tape taught against the planes of his abs and dragging it up to the full curves of his sculpted pecs. He shivered when the tape scraped his nipples through his shirt.

"Are you cold?" You asked.

God, even your voice was cute.

"I don't get cold," Enji said. He was still grumpy, you being the cutest thing he'd ever seen hadn't changed that.

"Oh, okay." You picked up his old suit and examined it, comparing your new measurements with the old recorded in Ao's customer book. "Wow, you sure gained a lot of muscle Mr. Todoroki. Looks about a whole three inches of girth all around."

Why did you have to say girth? Now he was thinking about those little hands wrapped around the meat of his cock. Would those tiny hands of yours even be able to wrap around his balls? God, feeling you cup them would be amazing, desperately trying to wring his cum from them--

Now was not the time to be fantasizing, he reminded himself.

"Where's my tea?" Enji demanded, trying to get his mind off of you. "Mr. Ao always has tea prepared for his guests."

"Right! Sorry, sir." You skittered out of the room and returned with a paper cup of steaming green tea. When your hands brushed his for that split second of transference, Enji could have sworn he felt sparks.

When he married Rei it hadn't been for love. It had been about power when he spread her open and bred her. Enji knew of love and saw it everything and everyone but himself. But now... He felt it. This was love. Or at the very least, this was his breeding instincts begging for one last round in the ring.

Would you be a good girl for him, like Rei? Or would you fight him every step of the way? He could imagine you clawing at the wide expanse of his back, your tiny legs wrapped around his waist as he plowed into you hard enough to ensure you couldn't escape him the next day. You wouldn't want for anything under him, nothing but freedom--assuming you were coherent enough from his cock that you remembered you wanted it.

Shit, you were talking again. Oh you pretty little thing, didn't you know what you were doing to him? You had to know.

It took him everything to focus on what you were saying, "Since we don't have time to make a whole new suit, I thought maybe we could change the design to add more fabric in a fashionable capacity." You picked up a tablet and showed him a rough sketch of his jacket with red fabric inlaid in the seams to accommodate his size. Frankly he knew nothing about fashion so it looked good to him.

He just wanted you to touch him again.

"That's fine," he said. "As long as I have full use of my arms and legs. You wouldn't know anything about being a hero, but even the clothes we wear outside of work need to accommodate our movement as well as be quirk resistant."

"Of course, sir! Hero work is really intense. I can get started on your suit right away and have it delivered to your address with time to spare. Should I have Mr. Ao bill to the usual account?"

"Will you be the one delivering it?"

"Ah, no. We usually outsource deliveries, sir."

"Hm. I think it would be best if you did. That way you can come with me to the gala." What was he saying! "It would be... Uh, it would be a good way for you to show off your work, maybe make some connections. People from all walks of life will be there, I'm sure that this could be a good opportunity for you."

"I... I don't know what to say." You blushed, sweet and shy, confidence slipping in the face of opportunity. "I would love to."

"Excellent, my driver can take us there and back. Just dress nicely."

"Of course, sir, and thank you again. I'm going to get started on the modifications."

"Please do." Enji stood up, turning away from you quickly and coldy to walk out the door so you couldn't see the outline of his hardening cock in his pants.

He reminded himself to be patient.

Later that night when you arrived in your pretty, slim fitting dress and his bold but fashionable tux, Enji said, "You're a little early. Please come in. I'll make you some tea before I change."

"Oh, I don't want to bother you Mr. Todoroki!"

"It's no bother." He gestured for you to come inside and the moment your foot crossed the threshold of your new home, Enji firmly closed the door and locked it. "Now, why don't we talk about your future?"

#raven writes #Enji Todoroki x Reader #Endeavor x Reader #Tailor!Reader #Yandere x Reader #Male Yandere #Yandere Enji Todoroki #Yandere Endeavor #TW obsessive behavior #TW kidnapping #TW breeding (mentioned)#TW fantasizing

817 notes · View notes

artemis32 · 2 months

Text

Transilience iii

The long-awaited part 3 is here, thank you all for being so patient <33 (you're all going to hate me, but yes, there is going to be a part 4)

word count - 10.1k

tw: mentions of past child neglect, abuse, kidnapping, violence, medical malpractice (they're bad people, what did you expect??), LoV being bad people (mainly Shiggs and Dabi), slight yandere LoV (kind of, but not really), reader is delusional - like, very delusional - dismisses red flags like its nobody's business

mbe masterlist

transilience masterlist

Dabi was… different.

You’d given up what little hope you’d had of Touya still being there, but you didn’t expect there to be such a vast change in his personality.

How could someone who was once so obsessed with the idea of being a hero, of overtaking All Might, become this horrible? And really, there was no other way to describe him but horrible.

From the very first day that you’d been there, he’d done his utmost to isolate you from the other members of his group, whisking you away if they ever got too comfortable around you.

To their credit, none of them had laid a finger on you, though they hadn’t said anything when they saw the freshly burnt handprint on your shoulder either. It felt like a branding mark, a sign of ownership.

You remained wary of them, forever on edge. It became exhausting after a while – never breathing too loudly when one of them was near, hardly eating or sleeping. It got to the point where you nearly passed out from sheer exhaustion.

If he cared, Dabi never said anything.

The isolation was probably what got to you the most. The fear, the anger, the exhaustion – none of it felt as torturous as the loneliness. You weren’t allowed to talk to anyone but the leader, Shigaraki, and Dabi. Who’d decided that, you weren’t sure, but it ate away at your psyche day-by-day until almost nothing remained.

Most days, the only interaction you got was someone bringing your food to you. It was usually the man in the mask who had taken you – Mr Compress, or, you’d learned his name was, though sometimes it would be others in the group.

It was awful. They’d open your door and set a tray of food on the desk next to your bed.

They wouldn’t look at you.

They wouldn’t talk to you.

Nothing.

And you tried. You tried so hard to hold a conversation, to get them to say something, to look at you, but still, nothing.

Shigaraki’s visits were few and far between. Most days he came to see you, it would be to accompany the doctor he brought with him.

You didn’t like that man. He was cold and harsh, and he left bruises that would take weeks to fade away. He’d take samples of your blood too, poking you harshly with the needle if you squirmed too much.

Shigaraki said nothing. He only stood in the corner, silently staring at you.

It was the same when he came to see you alone. He’d come in quietly, sit down by your desk and stare at you for hours.

Sometimes he would speak, but those days were rare.

He’d ask you about your life before they’d taken you, before you’d gotten your quirk.

Originally, you had ignored him, but after weeks of isolation, you’d told him what he wanted to know. He smiled that day. It hurt.

Dabi’s visits were even rarer.

You thought you might dread his visits more than you did being alone.

He told you stories. Stories about his life – both while he’d been living with you, and after. You weren’t sure which you hated more.

While you’d understood how horrible your father was, to hear it first-hand, to hear from Touya himself what he’d gone through… it was almost more than you could handle.

Though right now, you’d take your father and his anger and violence. If you had a choice, you’d choose him over Dabi in an instant.

How pathetic – that you’d choose a monster like your father over your own brother, one who you’d looked up to, one who you’d mourned.

But that sort of thought had become surprisingly common. You’d been missing your family – Shouto, Fuyumi, Natsuo, even your father. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to miss your mother, and you were sure the feeling was mutual.

You tried as best you could, but nothing could stop your gradual descent into despair. You were so lonely, so scared that they’d decide you’d outlived your usefulness.

It was a shame that you were nothing like your family – you lacked Touya’s resolve, Shouto’s strength, even your father’s tenacity and anger. That would surely have helped you, but you were weak.

You were weak and scared, and even gaining a quirk had done nothing to change that.

****

If you had one complaint about how your days went, it had to be about the food they gave you.

It was plain, bland. Not to mention, you received the same thing every single day.

Plain oatmeal for breakfast, plain, dry bread for lunch, and plain, flavourless ramen noodles for dinner. If you were lucky, they’d occasionally throw in a bruised, overripe fruit, or give you of the takeout they’d had for dinner.

You’d gotten to the point of having to choke it down, trying not to gag whenever you saw the same food day after day. You wouldn’t call yourself ungrateful, but it was pretty obvious that no one knew how to cook. After the first two weeks, you’d liken the experience to eating cardboard, taking hours to pick at the plain, odourless lump on your plate before giving up.

That’s how Dabi found you thirty minutes after Mr Compress had bought you your dinner - picking at your plate with half-hearted interest, doing nothing more than moving the now solid pile of ramen from one side to the other.

He shoulders the door open without knocking, kicking it shut behind him with no regard for the slamming that rings out in the corridor beyond. Members of the League knew not to bother him when he was with you - everyone except Shigaraki.

A brown paper bag is chucked your way as he slinks over, slumping down in the chair next to your bed.

The sigh he lets out is one of exhaustion, and if you actually cared about him, you might’ve shown some concern for the weariness in his eyes and the weight on his slumped shoulders. But you don’t.

Instead, you stare down at the paper bag next to you.

“Well?” he asks when you make no move to touch it. “Aren’t ya gonna open it?”

You shrug, still staring.

“That depends.”

He huffs. “On what?”

“If I open it, do I get to leave this room?”

He lets out a frustrated groan, head leaning against the wall as he rubs his hands over his face.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “This again?”

After about the first month and a half of being cooped up in the room they’d shoved you in, you’d decided enough was enough. Seeing the same four walls all day, every day, was driving you insane. So you’d begun asking Dabi if you could be let out, even for a short ten minutes, just to walk around the base, to the end of the hall - anything.

Unsurprisingly, your request had been denied.

So you’d asked again. And again. And again.

It had become routine at this point, and though he had yet to agree, you felt as though you were slowly wearing him down.

Asking Shigaraki didn’t have the same effect. He’d fix you with this eerie, wide-eyed look, sitting in silence until you looked away or changed the topic.

So you stuck with asking Dabi instead, refusing to go along with whatever he asked of you unless you got what you wanted.

It seemed as though the two of you shared the same stubborn streak, and neither of you had given in yet.

“Yes, this again,” you say stubbornly, jutting your chin out at him.

“I’ll go crazy in here if you don’t let me out. It’s not as if I’m asking for a kidney, I just want to take a walk. Blindfold me if you have to, just let me out for a few minutes.”

He says nothing, staring at you for a moment.

“Please?” you ask – no, you plead.

He rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

“Fine,” he says, sighing heavily, nodding slightly.

“Fine. I’ll let you walk around for a bit. There – happy?”

You perk up at that, nodding eagerly, happy for what you consider to be a small victory.

Honestly, considering the circumstances, it’s a massive victory. Any amount of autonomy is cause for celebration, and this was as good as it was going to get for a while.

“Are ya gonna open the bag or not? Or should I change my mind?”

“No! No, I’ll look.”

You scramble to grab the brown paper bag, ripping it open in your haste.

“A… burger?”

Indeed.

It’s a burger, and the smell makes your mouth water. You want to eat it, but you don’t. Instead, you look over at him, quirking your brow in question.

“Eat up, Cupcake,” he says with a smirk.

You scowl at the nickname. It was one in a sea of many – he seemed to sense how much it annoyed you, so he took great time and care in finding different nicknames for you each time he came to visit.

His smirk flattens into a scowl when you don’t immediately respond or go to eat.

“What’s this about?”

“Huh?”

“You only ever bring me food like this- You’re only nice if something’s about to happen. So, what is it?” you ask suspiciously.

He brings his hand up to grip at his chest, gasping in feigned horror.

“Oh! My own sister doesn’t trust me. Whatever shall I do?”

He rolls his eyes.

“Can I not just be nice? Why’re you so suspicious all the time, huh?”

You squint at him. “So… you really don’t want anything in return? You're not going to knock me out and move me to another room or something? You’re not going to run some kind of painful quirk test on me?”

His palm still rests on his chest, right over his heart. He bows his head and closes his eyes.

“Cross my heart. Come on, eat up.”

He stands with a huff, slinking over to your bathroom as you hesitantly begin eating.

There are some clattering sounds as he moves around the bathroom for a moment before it falls silent. He emerges fifteen minutes later, right as you finish the burger.

“Ah, you’re done. Great. Put this on.”

He hands you a jacket and a pair of shoes. You slip them on without question.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Go where?” you ask, palm rubbing contentedly over your full stomach.

“For your damn walk, what else?”

“Now?” you ask, mouth open in shock.

He hums, coming up to you and grasping your forearms before hauling you up.

“Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You stand and trail after him.

****

“Still nothing?”

Hawks hums, shaking his head. “Sorry,” he says with a shrug.

Endeavour lets out a frustrated huff, slamming his hand down on the desk. Everything atop it rattles.

His frame remains tense for a moment before his shoulders slump.

“We’ve checked everywhere,” he says in an even, measured tone. “Why, after six months, have you still not found my daughter?”

Hawks gives him a good-natured smile, eyes crinkled in the corners. “Hm, dunno. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.”

The temperature of the room steadily climbs the longer Hawks talks.

“After all, it’s been a while. Surely if she wanted to get away from wherever she is, she would have by now, what with that nifty new quirk and all.”

At the mention of your strangely acquired quirk, Endeavour finally cracks. His fingers melt through the surface of his desk, the ornately carved wood caving beneath his warm grip like butter. The look on his face betrays his emotions – it’s a look of pure pain, what with his furrowed brow and quivering lip.

The mighty Endeavour did have a heart after all.

He slumped down into the seat behind him, roughly swiping over his face with calloused palms.

“I–” his voice cracks.

He clears his throat, sniffing and straightening up before he speaks again.

“Hawks, please, be honest.”

Keigo tilts his head to the side, eyeing the redhead curiously.

“Have you done everything in your ability to find my daughter? Does she– does she truly not want to be found?”

He lets out a heavy puff of air, carefully taking a seat across from the distraught man. After a few long, quiet minutes, he finally settles into a seemingly comfortable position, leaning back with one leg propped up over the other.

“I’ve done everything I can,” he says, looking directly into the other man’s eyes. He places his hand over his heart – a gesture of his sincerity. “I haven’t seen her – she really doesn’t seem to want to come back. That, or…”

He shrugs. “Never mind. I’m sorry Endeavour, but there’s nothing more I can do. I’ve helped as much as I can because we’re friends, but I can’t keep neglecting my own work for this.”

The chair scrapes harshly against the polished tiles as he stands, dusting off his jacket while he strides to the door.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything. For now just… relax.”

Hawks leaves the man to wallow in his ever-growing despair.

****

Your legs burn slightly from the stretch, but you welcome it as you pace each corridor eagerly, Dabi trailing a few steps behind you with a slouched frame and barely concealed scowl.

He’d made it clear that he thought your eagerness to go for something as silly as a walk was stupid, but he’d kept many of his comments to himself, choosing instead to mutter under his breath as he directed you through the dimly lit base.

“Left here.”

You turn left, trying to keep yourself from skipping like an idiot. It was one thing to be excited for a walk, but to skip like a child? Dabi would never let you live that down.

The corridors are as dingy as the rest of the building, flickering lights, cracked tiles, chipped paint on the walls. It truly looked like the prison it was.

Oh well. It wasn’t as if you expected any better from a group of villains, especially those that had kidnapped someone without a second thought.

“So, what exactly do you do?” you ask, eyes still flitting from one side of the corridor to the other, taking in as much as you can while you have the opportunity.

“What?”

Dabi sounds bored. He drags his feet as he walks, shoes scuffing against the worn tiles.

You shiver. It’s freezing out here. A part of you was thankful that Dabi had given you the shoes and jacket. Not that you’d ever mention it.

“I mean, I get that you guys are villains and all, and you spend your days coming up with ideas on how to take over the world, but like – what do you do?”

You chance a glance over your shoulder.

He looks perplexed, lips pursed as he stares at you.

“What a dumb question.”

You splutter out in indignation.

“Hey, it’s not a dumb question!”

He hums, staring at the ceiling.

“Take a right.”

You do, waiting in silence for his response.

“We make deals, gather intel, threaten a few people – fun stuff like that.”

He shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“I don’t know, that’s about it I guess.”

You pause.

“Sounds boring,” you say with a shrug.

He grunts, prodding the small of your back with his fingers to urge you forward.

“Keep walking.”

You walk past a familiar looking door.

There’s a slight stumble in your step and Dabi has to grab your arm to keep you from landing on your face.

“Come on,” he says, shoving you forward roughly. “Don’t make me regret this by acting all stupid.”

You nod in apology, eyes lingering on the door.

That day you arrived is still stark in your memory – the way they all laughed at you, the fear and anxiousness you’d felt.

Shigaraki and his touch.

The way he’d turned your jacket to dust with a simple brush of his fingers.

Dabi.

Touya.

The mark seared onto your shoulder.

You shiver again, though not from the cold.

The memory of your first night there opens the floodgates, and you’re forced down memory lane as you walk, Dabi’s hand still a warm fixture between your shoulder blades.

You remember the first time Shigaraki came to visit you. You remember the first time he truly hurt you.

You remember what he made you do with your quirk – the quirk shoved upon you, one you’d give up in a heartbeat for the chance to escape this place, to go back in time and be thankful for your lack of quirk.

But would you?

Yes, everything that had happened to you was horrible, and you woke up everyday praying it was some kind of sick nightmare, but would you really give up your quirk in exchange for your freedom?

It was something you’d battled with for a while now.

Would you rather be here, locked up and used as a lab rat, or would you choose to go back to your family and crawl back into their cold, unaccepting arms?

No matter how you looked at the situation, there was no lesser evil amongst the two.

The thought made you laugh to yourself whenever it crossed your mind.

Had you truly reached the point where you lumped your family, your own flesh-and-blood, together with a group of villains?

Yes.

They were one and the same.

Your father, your siblings – your mother.

Everything about them shunned your existence.

If they weren’t overwhelming you, they acted as if you didn’t exist.

You wondered, not for the first time, if they were looking for you – did they miss you? Did they even realise you’d been kidnapped?

Thinking about it - them - got you nowhere.

Your family.

Family.

The word didn’t exactly fit.

The League… They treated you similarly.

They hurt you, physically, mentally, emotionally. They ignored you when you served no purpose to them or their cause. They overwhelmed you, they controlled you when they felt like it.

Dabi – he was the epitome of both.

Both your family and the League, but especially Dabi – they had a certain intensity about them when they looked at you, when they thought you couldn’t see them.

It scared you more than their insults, more than their fists, more than their distain.

They looked at you as if they wanted to consume you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was a look of crazed, unwavering mania. Obsession. But if that was the case, you wouldn’t be beaten and bruised, or locked up in a cage like some sort of pet meant for display.

You shake your head, trembling hands clutching at the bottom of the zip up Dabi had given you.

When did it get this cold?

Dabi distracts you from your thoughts, fingers harshly digging into your side, guiding you roughly down a corridor towards your right.

He tuts at you.

“Pay attention.”

He comes to walk beside you, reaching his arm around you to lay it over your shoulder.

You stiffen up.

The palm of his hand sits perfectly against the scar that sits in the juncture between your neck and shoulder – the one he’d given you.

Having a doctor on hand to run tests on your quirk wasn’t as reassuring as you might have hoped. It meant that no matter what any of them did to you, it could be fixed, and you’d be left with nothing but the mental scars as proof.

The scar Dabi had given you though – that they let you keep.

It had taken a while to heal enough for you to touch it, and you’d spent a few days after delirious with pain. But now, months later, it was fine.

Or, it should be.

But the mental scars from Dabi ran far deeper than anything else you’d been through since they’d taken you.

You hated it when people touched you.

It was the only scar you were allowed to keep, but you wished they’d rid you of it like they did with everything else.

The floodgates of your mind seem to open, the palm on your shoulder acting as a key, and you’re helpless to stop the painful barrage of memories you try so hard to suppress.

****

The first test they’d ever run on you had been the most painful to date. A large part of you had blocked out the memory, too overwhelmed to remember it in anything but short snapshots and glimpses.

You’d been strapped to a medical gurney, probably the most uncomfortable one the League could find.

The cold metal left you covered in goosebumps and shivers that had done nothing to deter the panicked sweat enveloping you, leaving your palms clammy and shaking.

Worse than being restrained and prodded with needles had to be the duration. They’d left you like that for three weeks.

Evidently, they hadn’t felt it necessary for you to eat either, deciding instead to shove a thick feeding tube down your throat. Similarly, you weren’t allowed to sit up or use the bathroom. You weren’t allowed to do anything.

They left you in a drugged haze after the third day, growing tired of your struggles and cries.

And that’s how you spent the first three weeks with the League. Completely exhausted and mentally checked out, staring blankly at the ceiling day in and day out, never so much as twitching a finger as they performed invasive surgeries you were too delirious to feel.

You’d flatlined more times than you care to remember, your heart rate dropping to a monotonous beep.

Blood filled your lungs after they’d punctured the thin membrane.

Your face turned blue from the lack of oxygen after you’d choked on the feeding tube.

You’d had multiple seizures mid-surgery from a number of malpractices.

In the end, you don’t remember much of what had happened. All you recall is waking up out of a daze surrounded by cold, impartial doctors, and being forced to carry on as if nothing had happened.

It was probably better that way. You had a feeling you didn’t want to know the entire truth of what had happened while you were all but comatose.

And beyond that, the training they’d put you through to improve your quirk was just as bad, if not worse.

You imagined that training with your father would have been similar, in that you received painful, unwarranted punishments for failure of any kind.

The only saving grace was that your quirk had improved significantly since the League had taken you.

You clung to that when despair crept up on you. You had a quirk.

Somehow, it didn’t feel as wonderful as you’d hoped it might have years ago.

****

Eventually, Dabi drags you to a halt and out of your thoughts, grasping your forearm with a grip so harsh you’re sure it’ll bruise. If they’ll allow it.

The two of you have stopped before a large set of metal doors. They reflect the flickering lights and make your eyes water. You’re confused – this isn’t your room. Why did he not take you back to your room?

Had he lied to you?

Stupid question.

Of course he lied to you.

You turn to glare at him, heart pounding wildly.

“You liar,” you spit, flinching back in vain as he reaches for you.

He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I am a villain. And I didn’t lie. This is part of your walk – the walk you wanted. So,” he prompts, giving you a slight shove that nearly sends you crashing into the double doors.

“Keep walking.”

****

You hardly dared to breathe.

Not that you could even if you wanted to. It felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room.

Your brain buffered for another few seconds before you could process what you were seeing.

The room, a large assembly hall, was, as you’d expected, filled with people. Members of the League. Villains.

But there, near the front of the room, looking far too content in a room of people he was supposed to be against–

Wasn’t he–?

Hawks.

The pro-hero Hawks.

Wasn’t Hawks a hero?

Shouldn’t he be fighting? Running? Trying to rescue you?

Why did he look so content? Why was he laughing, smiling next to Twice?

You take a step back, searching blindly for the door handle.

Consequences be damned, you weren’t about to wait around. Whatever was going on here, you wanted nothing to do with it.

Swallowing thickly, you tried to slip out of the room while the villains before you mingled about, as if this was some type of meet and greet or a party.

You weren’t ever really the type of person to feel any degree of self-righteousness, or think yourself better than those around you, but it became difficult when the only people you were surrounded by were villains. You didn’t feel bad about what you thought of them. It wasn’t as if they’d ever find out.

“Ah ah,” someone tuts behind you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Dabi.

What was he getting at? What kind of sick game was he trying to play?

He lightly shoves at the small of your back, pushing you forward. You stumble back into the room, straightening up.

Glancing around cautiously, you all but meld into the wall, praying no one notices you. That hope is dashed as soon as Dabi seizes your forearm and yanks you towards him, walking with an air of ease towards Twice and Hawks.

A million thoughts race through your mind as you try, and fail, to pull away from Dabi. All he spares you is a warning glare before the two of you come to a stop before the winged hero and his animated companion.

Something flickers in Hawks’ eyes when he spots you, a slight glimmer of recognition. It’s gone a moment later, so fast you almost think you imagined it.

“Who’s the kid?” he asks with an air of nonchalance, turning to Dabi. Your brother, if you even still considered him that, spares you one more quick glance, a dark look in his eyes, before responding.

“Tomura’s new experiment.”

That hurt, more than you’d care to admit.

You knew it was true, but that didn’t make it any less hurtful to hear out loud. You’d been denigrated to nothing more than an experiment. Not a person, not a child, but an object to be tested and prodded at. You were little more than an oversized labrat to these people.

Something in your expression must convey the hurt and irritation you try so hard to bury, because Dabi scoffs and wraps his hand around the back of your neck, jerking you closer to him as he tilts his head down to whisper to you. His breath is hot against your ear and it makes you cringe back awkwardly, though you don’t get far.

“What? Did that hurt your feelings?”

You clench your sweat slicked hands into fists, trying to hold your anger at bay, though it does nothing to curb your frustration. And with your frustration comes the familiar feeling of your quirk, unnatural and monstrous, bubbling up in the pit of your stomach as you try so hard to shove it back down.

“No. No, I’m just… tired. From the tests.”

He scoffs, a patronising smirk tugging at his lips. “Aw, of course. You’re tired.”

Twice and Hawks watch silently from the sidelines, not intervening, even as you wince, Dabi’s grip tightening on the nape of your neck.

“Behave. Be a good little lab rat and I won’t have to fry your face, okay?”

His tone is gentle, as if he were talking to an infant, punctuated by the soft strokes of his fingers against your cheek, but his words send a shiver of panic down your spine, locking you in place.

Satisfied with your fear induced obedience, he releases you and turns back to the pair before you, chattering away about some or other plan the League was in the process of reviewing.

None of them pay you any attention for the rest of the night.

****

Hawks seems to linger around base a lot more after that first encounter.

You see him every time the door to your glorified prison cell opens. You see him when the doctor visits to poke and prod at you, when Mr Compress drops by to deliver your meals, even when Shigaraki appears for his rare visits.

The only time he doesn’t appear is when Dabi visits, though that’s rare enough in and of itself.

He never stops to talk, or even stare, only sparing a fleeting glance at you from the corner of his eye, posture tensing slightly, before he continues down the corridor.

You feel a strange tension with him around base. The anxieties you felt before seem to be amplified, your heart rate picking up every time you catch sight of him. A part of you, deep down, hopes that he’s here to help you - to save you. But it’s a childish hope, one you’re sure to squash down as soon as it arises.

The first time he stops and lingers, around three weeks after you first meet him, is to drop your dinner off in place of Mr Compress. It’s a surprise, seeing him instead of the masked villain.

He’s silent the entire time, staring at you with a look of bored curiosity, as if he’s waiting for you to do something entertaining.

You don’t.

You force down the bland food in silence, never once taking your eyes off of him.

He leaves just as silently and quickly as he arrived.

After that day, it slowly starts to become a routine. At first, you rarely see him, but as the weeks turn into months, he becomes one of the only people you interact with. You start expecting to see him instead of the others, and you find out in passing one day that the other members of the League had shirked their duties of caring for you off on to him.

It didn’t bother you as much as it should have - the fact that they viewed you as little more than a chore.

You form a tentative bond with him, one that feels fragile and strained, but it’s better than anything else you’d had up until that moment. He’s the closest thing you have to a friend, to someone that cares about you.

His apparent care for you becomes obvious in the small things he does - the meals he brings you become more edible, something you actually look forward to instead of having to force it down. He visits more often, the short periods in which you see him seemingly becoming longer than they were before.

Four months after that first tentative encounter, Hawks had solidified himself in your dreary daily existence, establishing himself as your sole source of what could only be described as happiness.

You’d, somewhat unwillingly at first, become far more relaxed in his presence, even going as far as to enjoy his company. Some days, you might even say you looked forward to his visits.

Not only did he act as a reprieve from your never ending boredom, with both his company and the gifts he bought you, but also his interventions.

Mr Compress had, on one of his now rare visits, not at all subtly told you that Hawks had convinced the League - specifically Shigaraki - to quote unquote ‘take it easy on you’. His tone had been tinged with something you couldn’t quite identify at the time.

Even Dabi had begun to unironically refer to Hawks as your ‘new best friend’.

He didn’t seem too happy with the new development.

A week later, Hawks, or Keigo, as he’d asked you to call him in private, had paid you one last visit, and you hadn’t seen him since. He’d gifted you one of his fluffy, scarlet feathers the last time he’d visited, for ‘when he wasn’t around’.

It sat waiting neatly on the centre of the singular pillow on your bed one evening, easily catching your eye as you slipped out of the bathroom attached to your room. There was no note left with it, but you didn’t need one. You knew well enough what it meant, and it filled your empty, aching chest with a sort of warm feeling that left you breathless.

After that day, you kept it with you, tucked into your shirt, positioned right over your heart, and at night, you placed it under your pillow. You might’ve felt embarrassed at how much it meant to you, or how attached you were, but it felt like your only lifeline in the miserable four walls of your little room.

In a strange, cosmic joke kind of way, he almost felt like the family you’d never had.

****

The day Shoto had been scarred by your mother had been an odd day. It was one of the rare days since Touya’s death that you’d felt loved, accepted by your family. Everything felt normal. Two months after your fifth birthday, the snow had melted into clear, fresh streams and flowers had begun to bloom.

Sakura.

Your family had spent the day in the park, wandering around while you and Shoto played with Fuyumi in the dewy grass, in awe of the delicate pink blossoms. There’d been a strange tension between your parents that day, one you’d been too young and oblivious to notice.

After a long Spring day spent outside, your family of six had returned home and resumed life as usual. Dinner was a quiet affair, as it usually was, and you’d hurried about your evening routine after you’d felt your mother’s distasteful gaze trained on you for longer than usual.

Fuyumi had, for reasons unknown to you, attached herself to you that evening, insisting on helping you bathe and get into your pyjamas. You’d gone along with it all, happy and unquestioning of her attention on you.

It felt good, having someone care for you - the first person to do so since Touya’s passing.

She’d laid next to you in your bed, reading a children's storybook to you, her fingers gently carding through your hair - the same hair she’d so caringly brushed out an hour before, carefully working each knot out with a patience and kindness reminiscent of a mother.

In the peace and stillness of the moment, you’d failed to notice Rei's shadowy figure in the doorway, watching the two of you through the slight gap in the doorway. If you had bothered to peer over Fuyumi’s shoulder, you might’ve noticed her blanched face, or her hands, clenched into fists so tight her knuckles turned while. You might’ve noticed the wide eyed, crazed expression that had washed over her face, growing in intensity with each passing moment.

But you didn’t notice her.

What you noticed was the commotion not long after she left. You heard her panicked shrieks fifteen minutes later. Shouto’s pained screeches and sobs followed soon after, echoing eerily down the long corridor to your room.

You heard your father’s thundering steps and bellowing rage, felt Natsuo and Fuyumi’s panic, their trembling hands on your shoulders, steering you away from the sight of Shouto’s raw, burnt face.

And you definitely felt the shiver of dread dripping down your spine when your mother turned her crazed eyes on you. She looked almost demonic in that moment, eyes red rimmed and wide, face nearly as stark white as her hair.

She’d tried to approach you, hands outstretched, fingers curled into cruel claws as she reached out for you, and only your father’s firm grip kept her in the kitchen as you were ushered to your room while Shouto was rushed off to the hospital.

You didn’t see much of any of them after that, and in the months following the incident, you felt even further ostracised from your family.

Rei had been institutionalised not too long after that, and the remainder of your family had kept you at arms length ever since, reminding you constantly of your insignificance to their lives - to the family.

****

The scent of soba and egg rolls fills the room, its occupants silent as they eat.

Hawks halts for a moment, the noodles dangling from his chopsticks as he glances to his left, to the hulking flame hero sitting beside him. He hides a small smirk, tilting his head down and clearing his throat before speaking.

“I looked into that lead you told me about - the one about your daughter? It’s a deadend.”

Endeavour tenses, shooting Hawks a pointed look, but it’s too late. Natsuo and Shouto pause, exchanging a tense look across the table, and Fuyumi perks up, her grip tightening on her chopsticks.

“You’ve been looking for her? And you didn’t think to mention it to us?” Natsuo sounds outraged, his hands tightening into fists on the tabletop. “You didn’t think to ask us for help?”

Endeavour’s jaw tightens.

“I didn’t think it was necessary. Allowing you three to help would’ve done nothing but give you false hope and allow you to interfere with my work. You’d do more harm than good.”

“Ah, Endeavour, so harsh! Don’t shoot them down yet,” Hawks interjects, cutting off whatever scathing remark Natsuo was about to spit out. “More eyes and ears are always helpful. I’m sure they could help out in some way.”

His tone is light, but something about the look in his eyes has Endeavour cautious, and his tone becomes firm.

“No. You three will not get involved. That’s final.”

Hawks shrugs, going back to his soba with a quick final quip.

“Well, that’s that. Dad has spoken. Don’t try to help find your sister.”

His words hit their intended mark, evident in the barely concealed rage on Natsuo’s face.

“...yeah. Figures, you wouldn’t want us helping. You don’t actually want to get her back, do you? You probably wish she’s dead in a ditch somewhere, don’t you?”

The silence that rings out after Natsuo’s rant is deafening, oppressive. It makes the air feel stifling and heavy, and no one dares move.

“You know nothing,” Endeavour spits, his eyes alight with a look akin to pure fury. Heat radiates off of him in waves, turning the once cold soba on the table scalding in mere moments.

“I know you scared her off. We all do. We know you’re the reason she ran away in the first place. We know that if she’s hurt, or dead, or worse, then it’s your fault. And I know that I won’t stop blaming you until the day I die.”

Before the situation can escalate further, Fuyumi intervenes.

“Okay, um– Everyone is clearly feeling overwhelmed, and we all miss her, so… so let’s just take a deep breath and calm down, okay? Getting upset with one another won’t bring her back.”

Her half-hearted interference, surprisingly, seems to work, just enough for everyone to cool their tempers slightly. Natsuo lets out a long, deep breath, standing and leaving the room without another word.

Shouto follows close behind, pausing at the threshold for a moment and turning to glower at his father.

“Find her, or we will.”

****

You’re rudely awoken in the middle of the night, sweaty and tangled up in your sheets with someone shaking you harshly by the shoulders.

“Hey, wake up– Wake up.”

You jolt upright, forehead banging against someone else’s. Wincing, you massage the bruising skin of your forehead and shoot a glare to whoever had woken you up.

Hawks.

“Wha-? What’s going on?”

Your words are mumbled, sleep clouding both your mind and your vision.

Kiego firmly grips both your wrists, pulling them away from your face and yanking you to your feet, out of the bed. Your sheets pool at your feet, tangled up between your legs on the cold concrete floor.

“We’re leaving. Now.”

A quick tug towards the door accentuates his words, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach. You put up some resistance, pulling back slightly, trying to ignore the roiling in your stomach.

“Hawk– Keigo, what–? Why are we leaving? Where’s Dabi?”

His expression, from what you can see in the imposing darkness of the room, is hard and guarded, and his grip shifts to your bicep, tightening to an almost painful extent.

“None of that matters. I said we’re leaving, so start walking before I make you.”

You’re thrown off by how short off and rude his words are. He’s nothing like the man you’ve come to consider a friend, and a part of you is almost scared of him at that moment. Something in your expression must give your feelings away, because moments later, his eyes soften alongside his grip, his voice lowering to a whisper.

“I’m getting you out of here. Away from the League. Just… trust me. Please?”

Something about his gaze, his tone - it sways you. Convinces you to believe him.

So you do.

A slow nod is the only confirmation you give, but it’s enough for him to start pulling you towards the door again. You hesitate for only a moment before going along with him, pausing only to grab the scarlet feather laid carefully beneath your pillow.

It’s the only thing you take with you. The only thing you have to your name, the only possession of any value to you.

The low light disguises Keigo’s small smirk when he spots the feather clenched tightly in your grip as you trail after him, though he makes no mention of it. Similarly, you make no mention of his bruising grip.

You don’t encounter anyone in your silent, swift escape, and you almost feel as if it’s too easy, but you don’t point it out to Keigo.

Maybe a part of you is scared of jinxing your good luck.

Or maybe you’re terrified this is some sort of elaborate, cruel trick he’s playing on you.

Regardless, you stay silent, sticking close to his side as you both exit the seedy bar. He immediately scoops you up into his arms, crouching down, powerful thighs flexing beneath him for a moment before he takes flight, soaring out of the alleyway in an instant.

****

“She’s gone.”

The entire League sat gathered around the bar, tense and silent as Hawks speaks, leaning casually against the bar, wings splayed out behind him.

“I dropped off her breakfast this morning and her room was empty. Bathroom too.”

The group looks to Shigaraki, waiting for his reaction.

He’s still, expression blank and guarded. The only sign of tension in his body is the tightening of his hand, clasped into fists at his sides. His jaw works for a moment before he responds, muttering to no one in particular.

“Ruined. All ruined. Those stupid pro heroes are always ruining my plans.”

His agitation becomes obvious as he begins pacing in front of the bar counter, hands clawing uselessly at the pale skin of his neck. Welts form within seconds, raised and red and angry beneath his frantic fingernails.

“It’s Endeavour. It has to be. How did he find out? How?”

The words are muttered below his breath as he paces, not meant for anyone but himself, eyes wide and fretful when his head snaps up. His gaze narrows and sets itself on Dabi.

“Did you know about this?”

Dabi raises his eyebrows, expression cool, seemingly bored as he drawls. “Me? Now, why would I know a thing about this?”

His gaze flits momentarily to Hawks, narrowing.

“If anything, you should be asking bird boy over there. He seemed particularly comfortable around her. Wouldn’t he know something about our little escapee?”

Shigaraki groans and turns on his heel, kicking his leg out and toppling a table in the process. The room is silent for a long while, the only sounds piercing stillness is the resounding clatter of the table striking the floor, and Shigaraki’s own rage filled panting.

Silence stretches out for a few moments as he schools his rage, recomposing himself after his explosive tantrum.

“Bring her back - I don’t care how. I need her. My experiments aren’t done yet. Father won’t be pleased. She’s my experiment. Mine.”

He turns his cold glare to Hawks, then Dabi, eyeing them both suspiciously.

“Find her.”

****

Sometimes, you wonder what life would’ve been like if your mother hadn’t been around. Your siblings too, for that matter.

During the more peaceful moments of your life, you fantasised about life far away, often imagining what it’d be like if you’d been born into a different family entirely.

Maybe you’d be an only child, living in a small rural town by the beach, or on a farm.

It would’ve been peaceful, you think. Calm.

Your parents would dote on you, their only daughter, and they wouldn’t care about your lack of a quirk.

Imagining that sort of kindness made your stomach turn. How would it feel?

Or maybe you’d be one of many children. The oldest child.

You’d protect your younger siblings in the ways you never were. You’d be part of a big happy family, one where you had big Sunday lunches and went on annual vacations. You’d have a family pet, a cat or a dog, adored by everyone in your make believe family.

Or maybe you’d be an orphan.

How sad, that being an orphan without a home was preferable to your own situation.

But you’d be surrounded by other children like you - children without homes, without families.

The thought of a different life left an aching hole where your heart should’ve been.

There were times that you felt bad about wishing for a different life. You’d look at family photos, gazing down at your siblings smiling up at you, their faces joyful and free of concern.

Why couldn’t your life have been like that? Was your lack of a quirk really the only thing that made you so different?

Maybe if you’d been born as Fuyumi instead, with her soft eyes and kind disposition.

Or maybe Natsuo, with his unwavering strength, that glint he got in his eyes when he looked at you - the one that meant that he loved or hated you.

Most often, you imagined what it would be like to have been born as Shouto.

The golden child.

Would you have been grateful? Or would you have hated your family as much as he seemed to hate yours?

What reason did he have for hating them? They treated him like a king. Like their own saviour.

You wish he’d been yours. You wish he’d never grown out of his kindness, like he did when you were five years old and desperate for some kind of connection.

Perhaps things would have been different.

You try to imagine a world in which he took over the role Touya held in your life. You try to imagine a world in which your family protected you, in which they didn’t look down on you like you were scum.

The picture is blank and fuzzy.

You can’t imagine such a world.

But amidst the mess of self-pity and poorly disguised hatred in your mind, you remember small glimpses of happiness in your life with them. It rarely happened, but since you’d been taken by the League, it was as if the floodgates had opened. Memories you’d long since repressed came back in bits and pieces, and surprisingly, they weren’t all bad.

When you were seven years old, your father had hit you. It wasn’t out of the ordinary - in fact, you’d come to expect it.

But it hurt nonetheless. It bruised both your face and your feelings, so you’d escaped to the greenhouse in the garden for a reprieve - somewhere you rarely went.

It had been your mother’s sanctuary, but she’d long since been hospitalised, so you had no fear of seeing her through the thicket. You spent far longer there than you’d thought, and eventually the setting sun illuminated the room, filtering through the glass roof and overhanging foliage. It looked as if the room was on fire, bathed in the warm orange afternoon glow.

That’s where Natsuo found you, huddled up under a counter with your knees to your chest, careful not to jostle your bruised cheek.

He didn’t say anything, or try to coax you out of your shelter. Instead, he sat down next to you with a huff, slightly hunched over beneath the table. He, despite being only ten years old at the time, was already a lot taller than you, and most other children his age. The two of you sat in silence for a long while, not acknowledging one another as you sat side by side.

The memory replayed itself in your mind, almost as clearly as the day it happened.

Some time passes before he speaks.

“When I’m older, I’ll protect you. Like Touya did.”

The words give you pause, and you don't look at him. Thinking back now, you wish you had.

Would his expression have told you what he was thinking?

You’d never know.

“I’m not strong enough right now, but one day, I will be. And then he’ll never hurt you or Sho again. We’ll leave - us and Fuyumi.”

He pauses, bumping his shoulder against yours. You glance up at him and see his mouth pulled tight, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

“...I’m sorry for being a bad brother. I… I know I don’t act like it often, but I do love you. I worry about you too.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, averting your gaze. The words, however true they may or may not be, make you feel… wanted. As if he actually sees you as a member of the family, a little sister, and not some pesky waste of space or a punching bag.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course.”

The conversation lulls into silence after that. He sits beside you in silence, staring blankly at the wall of ivy opposite the two of you, and you sit there, still curled up tightly, fighting back tears.

He glances at you for a moment, reaching out to rest his hand on your shoulder. The gesture feels comforting, in a way. As comforting as it can be, coming from him - someone who’s a strange combination of both your older brother, and a complete stranger to you.

The sigh he lets out is heavy, weighed down by an emotion you can’t quite put your finger on, and his thumb gently strokes your swollen cheek. He pulls back as you wince, recoiling as if you’d struck him.

“Come on. Let’s get you some ice for that bruise.”

It felt both strange and pathetic - the fact that that was your fondest memory with Natsuo, at least from what you could remember.

But it felt soothing, in a way, to know that he didn’t completely hate you. Not as much as you’d thought.

It almost gave you hope that your family actually cared. Maybe they were looking for you. Maybe they were worried about you.

And maybe, they even felt remorseful for how they’d treated you.

Or maybe not.

****

“There’s been a… development.”

Endeavour tenses, the vein in his jaw ticking as he eyes Hawks.

“What do you mean?”

Hawks takes a deep breath, his brows scrunching into a faux sombre expression. The hand he lays on Endeavour’s shoulder is meant to be reassuring, but it feels like a death knell, settling heavily on his mind.

“I looked into it, and… she isn’t with the League. I don’t know if she ever was.”

“So… What? She just disappeared? People don’t just vanish off the face of the earth Hawks!”

His temper is boiling over now, despite his attempt to keep it under control. Hawks takes a step back, cautious as he shows his palms in a placating gesture, attempting in vain to calm the quickly growing fury of the man before him.

“I don’t know. I haven’t found a single trace of her. Maybe…”

Hawks schools his features, taking another step back, preparing for the inevitable backlash he’s about to receive.

“Maybe you should let it go. She’s gone, and she’s clearly not coming back.”

The large mahogany desk, once anchored to the floor, flies across the room, slamming against the wall of shelves with a resounding boom, its contents scattered across the office.

Endeavour is the picture of barely restrained rage, shoulders heaving with each panting breath, posture hunched and shuddering, his face red and twisted beyond recognition. Even his voice is barely recognisable.

“How dare you? How dare you suggest I give up? She is my daughter! She might be dead or worse, and you think I should just give up?!”

The air sizzles with each wave radiating off of the flame hero, and the plastic office chair behind him melts like butter, dripping to the floor in a sticky puddle, marring the once perfectly polished tiles.

Hawks quickly backtracks, eyebrows raising at the display of unbridled fury.

“Woah woah, no! I’m not suggesting that at all! I mean… maybe I was, but I can see now how upset that makes you so– Let’s just take a break, okay? Just take some time to… rethink things.”

His eyes flicker to Endeavour’s face, searching for something for a moment.

“Maybe consider allowing your kids to help?”

He shows his palms again before Endeavour can interject.

“I know, I know! It’s just a suggestion. Many hands, and all that. Just… give it some thought, okay? I’ll keep looking and let you know if I find anything.”

He leaves without waiting for a response, a small smirk playing on his lips.

With Endeavour lost in his own self hatred and personal musings, and the League preoccupied with their plans and separate search for you, no one would be looking his way.

****

Keigo was surprisingly wealthy.

Not that you’d expected him to be living in squalor - he was a Pro Hero, after all. A good one too, if his position as number two was anything to go by.

But the blatant decadence of his apartment shocked you.

He’d landed on the balcony smoothly, after a long forty minute flight, gently setting you down and leading you inside.

While he may have been accustomed to flying, you weren’t so lucky, and you felt as though you’d left your stomach back at the League’s base. Or maybe you’d lost it mid flight.

He seemed to pick up on your disorientation, guiding you to the plush couch with an unexpected tenderness. He’d allowed you to gather your bearings, bringing you a fuzzy blanket to stave off the odd chill in his apartment, and a tall glass of water, the condensation beading down the sides.

You’d been thirstier than you’d expected, chugging down the contents in mere moments, gulped down in six seconds flat.

Evidently, you’d been more exhausted than you thought too, dozing off less than fifteen minutes later. You felt Keigo there, his gentle hands helping you lay down and covering you with the blanket.

Now, when you wake up hours later, dazed and drooling, in a bed far too large for one person, Keigo’s gone, and the only indicator of his presence were the few scarlet feathers strewn across the fluffy duvet.

You spend a while combing the apartment for him, tentatively calling out his name as you wander the wide halls, but he’s nowhere to be found. Likewise, you note, at the back of your mind, the distinct lack of a front door.

There’s an off-kilter niggling at the back of your mind, but you brush it off, shifting your search to the kitchen after yet another unsuccessful ten minutes of searching. Evidently, exploring after hours of surprisingly deep sleep made you thirsty. You stand there, leaning against the marble countertop, chugging a tall glass of water, then another, and a third, until you feel bloated and almost sick. Only then do you set your glass down in the sink and move on from the kitchen.

His apartment is large, far too extravagant, but you suppose that must’ve been his taste.

You wander around the space aimlessly for a while, longer than you expected.

Why did he need this much space? Did he live with someone else?

The three tall glasses of water you’d chugged catch up to you far too quickly, and you shuffle to the first bathroom you find, paying no mind to your surroundings.

After taking care of your business and washing your hands, you exit the bathroom and stop short when you spot Keigo standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his face blank. Neither of you move for a long while, but eventually he blinks, eyes clearing as he assesses you.

“You feeling better?”

His tone is light and airy, the same Keigo you’ve grown accustomed to. It sets you at ease, the tension you hadn’t noticed in your shoulders melting away, trailing down your spine like a trickle of water.

“...yeah. Much.”

There’s a long pause, neither of you moving or saying anything. You clear your throat.

“Um, I never thanked you. For helping me, I mean. So… thank you.”

You incline your head slightly, straightening up. He stares at you for a long moment, sighing as he shifts to the side, a clear indication for you to leave the room. You do, shuffling past him awkwardly and making your way back to the living room.

The ceilings are tall, nearly over twelve feet, making the room seem larger and more exposed than it truly is. You sit back down on the couch, shifting about for a moment, settling down as Keigo seats himself down near you.

After a while, when it becomes apparent that he has no plan of breaking the simmering silence, you decide to take it upon yourself.

“I– Can I go home now?”

Home.

You didn’t know what that was. Not anymore.

It wasn’t with your father, on his sprawling estate. It wasn’t your four walled prison cell with the League. It certainly wasn’t with Touya.

The realisation that you had nowhere to go, no one to care for you… It was startling, and left a bitter taste on your tongue.

Keigo stares at you, head dipped forward so it appears almost as if he’s leering at you through his lashes. His golden eyes are alight with a strange intensity, and he takes a deep breath, seemingly thinking over his words.

“About that. See… I think it’s better if you stay with me for a bit. Just to… acclimate. You understand, right?”

His tone leaves little room for argument, but you try nonetheless.

“What? But wouldn’t– I don’t want to impose. I should really get back to my… family.”

The words die out on your tongue.

Now, out in the open, free from both the League and your family, you’re not so sure you want to return to the Todoroki home. You’d never had a choice before. It felt freeing, in a way, finally having the power to decide what you wanted without someone else breathing down your neck, trying to influence your decision.

Keigo raises a brow, the look that he gives you filled with a mix of pity, and something far more calculated and knowing.

“Do you? Do you want to go back to them? To him? The media may not be privy to what happens behind closed doors, but I’ve worked around Endeavour long enough to recognise the fact that he has a bit of a hot temper. Are you really willing to leave one prison cell for another?”

His words are like a stone dropped in your stomach, settling heavily in your already uneasy gut.

It sparks something inside you, a deep seated realisation. Keigo was offering you a way out. Freedom. True freedom. Or, at least, as close as you could get to it. You wouldn’t have to be subjected to the whims of others, of what they wanted for you.

Keigo was offering you a choice.

Maybe not in so many words, but the offer was there. You’d be a fool not to take him up on it.

Your throat bobs as you swallow, fists clenched tightly in your lap as you meet his gaze.

“I’ll stay.”

He smiles, eyes filled with light, seemingly glowing in the early morning rays that filter through the tall windows, gaze intense and trained solely on you. You shiver, wrapping your arms around your midsection as goosebumps dance over your skin.

It’s so cold in here.

“Wonderful.”

214 notes · View notes

thecuriousquest · 3 months

Text

Yandere’s Favorite Kind of Toys - MHA Edition

TW: NSFW, sex toys, sex, BDSM/BDSM gear, Dom!Yandere x Sub!Reader

—————————————————————————

Bakugou, Shoto- rope and paddles, no doubt about it. They love a good binding to tie you up with so that you can’t go anywhere, and what compliments bondage? Something to spank your ass raw with.

Aizawa, Mic, Enji- vibrators and gags; whether the vibrator goes inside of you or on your clit, they love to watch you turn into a shaky little mess. Something else that turns them on is watching your cries turn out muffled from the ball gag shoved none too gently in your mouth and locked behind your head. Now the real fun can begin.

Keigo, Kirishima, Denki- candle wax and hand cuffs; the heat stimulation drives you to writhe around a lot. They have to keep you still somehow. Why not use handcuffs as a means to keep you from getting too far?

Dabi- chastity belts and spreader bars; he’s got a kink for virgins, but he also wants to control your sexual life outside of the bedroom. Also, you move too much, trying to push your knees together out of embarrassment. The fuck’s wrong with you? That’s why he loves clasping your ankles with spreader bars, forcing your legs to stay open, giving him everything he wants. It’s like gold to him.

Izuku- muzzles (half face coverings locked behind the head) and anal beads; FUCKING LOVES shoving these beads up your tiny asshole. Just like the pleasure he gets from a ball gag, he gets even more pleasure from covering your face with a muzzle. It somehow exudes even more control over you than the ball gag.

All Might- nipple clamps and butt plugs; he really goes to town with nipple clamps. He loves watching your nipples puff out as the heavy clamp weighs it down. He also loves stuffing you with things whether it’s a dildo, butt plus, or his dick. However, if he wants to really fool around with you, he’ll definitely choose butt plugs above everything else.

Shigaraki and Hitoshi- anal hooks and body harnesses; they’ve got a thing wrapping you up in body harnesses. Attach an anal hook to said body harness/restraints, and they’re in fucking heaven. Just the thought of you squirming and begging for some type of release makes their cocks drip with pre as they grip you by the hair and get ready to stuff ANOTHER hole.

212 notes · View notes

saiyanmyname · 7 months

Text

For absolutely no reason, thinking about Pirate Captain Enji dressed in his velvet, embroidered captains coat, who’s buttoned and buckled to the nines.

His motley crew have captured you and your ship. You, the most infamous Pirate Queen on the seven seas. You’ve been destroying his reputation as the toughest buccaneer that ever sailed the high seas and he couldn’t have that now could he?

Think I'm going to try to write something for this so watch this space!

209 notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 4 months

Text

ENJI TODOROKI MASTERLIST

Ranging from my top Enji post to posts with notes above 1k.

Cock descriptions:

COCK ♡3k

What BNHA ! yandere is the scariest:

SCARY YANDERE ♡3k

Darling tries to deny the yandere captor Enji intimacy:

ENJI ♡2k

Enji and darling's sexual role-play dynamic:

ROLE-PLAY DYNAMICS ♡1k

Orc ! Enji x elf ! darling:

ORC x Elven princess ♡1k

ORC x ELF ♡1k

The Torodoki family makes use of their quirkless daughter - with friends:

FAMILY FUN ♡1k

Similar posts can be found in the following:

INSERT MASTERLIST

169 notes · View notes

melancholymegumi · 3 months

Text

I do not have motivation to write

but like, Yan dad!Enji and yan older brother bf!Todoroki with a spoilt brat!sister/daughter. Like , genuinely a spoilt brat. People actually even wonder if you're actually Endeavour's daughter. The retired number one hero, who was so scary and intimidating, and his youngest daughter who's supposed to be strict was just a spoilt brat who uses her daddy's money to shop.

#enji todoroki x reader #endeavour x reader #endeavour smut #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #melody's short nonesense #yandere bnha #yandere mha x reader #yandere shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto smut #todoroki smut

101 notes · View notes

black-aurora-nora · 8 months

Text

New Baby Pt. 3 | Platonic!Yandere!Todoroki Family x Reader

Every morning you were given your medication by Rei with the supervision of Enji. Then you'd get dressed for the day and head to the living area, where everyone would usually be waiting for you.

And despite the fact that you had grown used to the routine, the Todoroki's could still tell that you were holding onto the belief that your parents would one day come back.

How sad, they all thought.

Little did you know that they had been threatened to hell and back by Enji to ensure that your parents would never attempt to try and gain custody of you again.

They were in far too much debt and had no power against the #2 Pro-Hero of Japan.

Enji and Rei had been hoping you'd be easier to manipulate but you were so stupidly hopeful of the future like any other child and while they loved that about you, it wasn't helpful in their situation.

You were currently watching the Natsuo and Shoto play a card game against each other. When they finished a few rounds, they looked to you with encouraging smiles.

"(Y/N), you want to play?" Natsuo asked, raising his eyebrows.

A shrug left your shoulders, "Not really..."

Enji and Rei sat nearby on a couch. Rei looked at her husband, conflicted on whether she should say something to you. She didn’t want to scare you like she had previously.

Softly, she spoke, “(Y/N), why don’t you try playing one game? If you don’t like it, then we can find something else to do.”

Your lips pursed in distaste but you scooted closer to the brothers and allowed Natsuo to deal you your hand.

You quickly finished a round and gave the cards to Natsuo, unimpressed. “I’m going to my room.” You announced only for Enji to block the doorway.

“You need to stay out here, (Y/N). Tucking yourself away in your room isn’t healthy.”

With pursed lips, you timidly sat back down to watch the boys.

Shoto spoke up, noticing your souring mood, "Do you want to play a different game instead? It doesn't have to be a card game, it can be whatever you want."

You weren't in the mood to play anything but it appeared that you had no other choice and you didn't want to sit around doing nothing.

"Ok... that's fine." You chose a game to play and after a few rounds you spoke again, "When does Fuyumi get home?"

It had grown apparent to everyone in the house that Fuyumi was your favorite person in the house. In the past two weeks that you'd been here, you'd been at her side as much as possible.

If Fuyumi was in the kitchen cooking, you were there to help her. If you were watching TV, you would ask her to come watch with you.

It got to the point that Enji forced her to take extra hours at work so that they could get a chance to bond with you.

Having a relationship with your siblings was important, but not as important as having a relationship with you mommy and daddy.

Enji answered when no one else would, "She'll get here when she gets here."

Frowning, you slumped your shoulders slightly. You knew that meant that she wouldn't be back until dinner which was a few hours from now.

Natsuo stood up, patting your head sympathetically. He was jealous for sure. How had you bonded with Fuyumi so easily?

Hell, Enji had to force you to play with him and his brother.

You moved away from his touch and he bit back the anger that burned inside of him. What could he do to get on your good side?

Before he could ask if you wanted to do anything else, you walked over to Enji and Rei, eyes shifting around nervously.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Rei said, smiling sweetly.

"Um..." You trailed off. Any questions about your parents were off limits, but it'd been two weeks now and you still hadn't heard anything.

“I want to know how my parents are doing?”

The room stilled at the question.

Enji looked to the boys and they both left without another word, only glancing at you with something akin to pity.

“Did I not tell you those questions are forbidden, (Y/N)?”

You shriveled into yourself, “I just want to know if they’re ok.” And when can they come take me from this place.

Enji closed his eyes with a deep sigh, “(Y/N), you’re a smart girl. Isn’t it obvious what’s going on here?” He asked you condescendingly. "I thought you would've understood by now since you'd stopped asking."

You blinked, wondering what he meant by that.

Rei smiled sadly, “Oh, (Y/N), you’re parents don’t want you anymore.” She didn't sound sad despite the look on her face. You didn't miss the misplaced happiness in her tone.

She rose from her seat to give you a hug, “I’m so sorr-!” She jolted back when you shoved her with all your might.

Tears stung your eyes and you eyed the two strangers in front of you darkly, “My parents would never leave me! Don’t say stuff like that!”

Enji huffed, rising to tower over you.

You trembled but held firm, looking him in the eyes. Resolute in your declaration that your parents hadn’t left you.

But Enji had planned for this.

“How about we call them?” He said, pulling out his phone, “So they can tell you themselves.”

You swallowed your anxiety down, “Ok.”

He typed some numbers on his phone and held it to his ear, “ Hello? (Y/N) wishes to speak with you two.”

Enji passed the phone over and you gladly took it, smiling wide when you brought it to your ear.

“Mama? Daddy?” You called, beaming when you heard them respond, “I miss you guys a lot! This family is taking really good care of me…” you trailed off before starting again. “But I really want to come back home… But Mr. Todoroki said you didn’t want me… that’s not true though, right? When are you guys gonna come get m-“

“Look, (Y/N)… you’re too heavy of a burden. We can’t afford the medical bills.” Came your father’s voice.

“Huh?”

“We don’t want you anymore… don’t call us anymore. We’re trying to move on with our lives.” Your mom added.

“Please don’t say that!” You wept, “I miss you-“ You felt your heart tear when the phone call ended.

A thick silence filled the room. Only your quivering breaths emitted through the air.

You could feel yourself breathing but your chest felt too tight, there was no way this was happening.

There was no way your parents could just abandon you like that. How could they?

The day before you were taken to the Todoroki house, you were supposed to go the movies and have popcorn with lots of butter and a big soda.

And now, here you were, under the guardianship of two strangers that want to be your new parents without asking if you were okay with that.

“It’s unfortunate, but I promise everything will be ok, Y/N).” Enji’s voice barely reached your ears, “so long as you see us as your mom and dad.”

But they weren’t. You couldn’t forget that major detail.

The “I know it’s painful, baby,” Rei cooed beside you. Her arms leeched around you, entrapping you in her embrace. “Mama will make it all better.”

No, she wouldn’t.

Rei of all people wouldn’t be able to make this better.

“Breathe, (Y/N), you’ll make yourself pass out.” Enji warned, but you couldn’t.

You didn’t want to breathe.

What was the point?

You were stuck with this weird family that treated you like you were five.

Your parents sold you off because you were a burden.

What was the point?

Just as Enji had said, your knees crumpled beneath you but instead of falling to the ground, you stayed held up in Rei’s arms and she slowly lowered you both to the ground.

A smile bloomed upon her face when your breathing evened out, head rested in her lap with a tear-stained face.

You’d be sad for a little while, but that didn’t matter.

Your new parents would help you out.

You’re the baby after all.

788 notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 8 months

Note

Can you make Yandere todoroki fam reacting to child y/n playing as belle and yandere bakugo in beauty and the beast as a play

SRY IF YOU DONT UNDERSTAND 😭😭

Enji is NOT sobbing at how adorable you look bouncing about in your yellow gown like the prettiest princess you are. Natsuo as usual is struggling not to kill the kid behind him who's been hired by Dabi to kick his seat the whole time. Fuyumi is near the stage reminding you of all the lines and moves you have to do, while Rei is practically beaming because that's her handmade costume you're wearing and she did you hair so perfectly.

And you're on the stage, twirling around and waving to Enji, forgetting your lines and grinning as you excitedly call "Daddy!" And Enji is melting and crying and is also simultaneously evaporating his tears but Shotou has captured him in 4k on his camera.

There's Bakugo dressed as the beast, who for absolutely no reason, is pushing and kicking away all the other kids in his way just to be closer to you. And then there's the scene where you have to kiss him and Katsuki already has a death grip on you because he is not risking you running away, and he's inching closer when suddenly someone pulls his pants down, causing his to release you to pick his pants up. Meanwhile, you're suddenly whisked off the stage by a man and since you're still wearing a mic, the entire audience can hear your giggles and squeals and calling "DABBBIIIII!!!" While big bro is running out of the building with you.

Katsuki is humiliated and starts blasting off his quirk, while everyone else is staring at Enji because someone just stole his kid and he's just sitting there calmly. And really, the only reason Enji is calm is because he knows and approves Dabi hauling you away because he also didn't want RATsuki, that devil's spawn, kissing you.

And all this time, Shotou is acting like he's fuckinf Christopher Nolan with the way he's zooming in and out on everyone's faces like bro stop-😭😭😭

#yandere shoto todoroki #yandere shoto x reader #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere dabi #yandere todoroki clan #yandere endeavor #yandere enji #yandere enji todoroki #yandere dabi x reader

954 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 6 months

Note

Could you do Platonic Yanderes Endeavor (reformed), Aizawa, Izuku, Mirio, and Bakugou with a daughter/ sister reader meeting up with the reader, and see her in this skimpy outfit being hit on by a bunch of guys. But the thing is she is totally into it and flirting with them too.

Clubbing Culture Sibling Reader | Yandere Boku No Hero Academia

The flirty and sex-filled nature of clubbing isn’t for everyone. Especially not heroes who have everything to lose should they get out of hand. But when their dearest younger sibling decides to pursue a life such as this they can’t leave them to their own devices. Especially since you seem so willing to taint your perfection:

Endeavor (Reformed)

Family is important…especially now that he’s trying to fix his

If you were his child you wouldn’t so much as leave the house without wearing a full-on hazmat suit

But you're not, you’re his younger sibling

Legally old enough to do as you, please

Without your brother playing his ‘guardian’ card

But that doesn’t stop him from heavily urging pleading+ to be invited to your outing

And just like you thought…it was a terrible idea

He doesn’t need to burn anyone he can’t anyways too many eyes

His glare alone sends those interested in you packing

He can’t stop you from wearing what you do or flirting with who you like

but the latest victims will wish you hadn’t

“I wish you weren’t so….you. Especially with those who don’t deserve you.”

Aizawa Shota

Naturally, as your older brother, he makes a point to monitor you

That includes your typical behavior

He doesn’t have to like it, he knows it's just how you are

No the problem he has is the absolute scum that are just too forward

As per usual he’ll cull them mercilessly

While burying the remains he’ll realize how ironic it is that those who successfully earn your attention end up earning an unmarked grave

“This is just the way things go. If my baby sibling was a bit less…friendly I wouldn’t be so adamant about ending you like this. But it's just the way things go.”

Togata Mirio

Your glorious big bro always smiling and cheering you on

There are very few people who can look past that and see the murderous intent he has

Something that comes up pretty much whenever he’s reminded of your attitude about this sort of thing

It bothers him deeply and genuinely raises his blood pressure that you even entertain this

And when you turn to him with that cute tilt of your head as you ask him what’s wrong

He’ll smile and lie because he’s such a good brother

But eventually, he’ll get it together

And as your beloved big brother, he’ll be ‘revoking’ your party privileges

“Sorry sorry (Y/n)! You know big brother’s just looking out for you, so trust me on this okay?”

Midoriya Izuku

He’s always been proud of your confidence

And when you were little he was proud of how you easily valued your ‘no-no squares’

But now you're grown and you don’t abide by those rules at all

It bothers him

And he’s willing to reason with you…for a little while

But after you brush off his warnings and outright justify your behavior he decides he’s done

Done with your autonomy in general

In his mind, if you can’t handle being responsible about who you pursue, you’re not fit to enjoy clubbing or partying or flirting at all

And he decides this by trapping you

But don’t worry he knows his baby sibling is all grown up now so he’ll have another method for keeping you in place

Like becoming the insistent stalker that’s making you too paranoid to leave the house

Or the one making sure you need to be inside to receive the package that has to be signed by you

“I told you I didn’t like it. You didn’t listen, now look at what you’ve done.”

Bakugo Katsuki

Is he not above just scooping you up and taking you home

The second you so much as smile at someone he’s decided he’s disgusted enough to send you home and brutalize them later

He will in fact lecture you every time about etiquette and the extras you have to ignore

Yes, if he’s overseas expect a costly call for his 3-hour rant

If you still don’t tone it back, to his liking, or not at all he’s not above putting you in an uncomfortable or dangerous corner

Maybe letting the villain he’s chasing believe they disappeared into the club’s crowd

Letting the villain shoot their shot

Only to interrupt and immediately take you, hostage

Surely you’ll see his side then

“Well isn’t that funny? I was freaking right!”

400 notes · View notes

fluff-n-cookies · 4 months

Text

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.

59 notes · View notes

artemis32 · 1 year

Text

Transilience II

Yandere Todoroki family x reader

Eventually huh?? this took forever but are any of us actually surprised :))

I’m not really all that happy with this but oh well, enjoy

word count - 11.3k

****

tw: mentions of past child neglect, panic attacks, abuse, stalking, kidnapping, the whole family is literally their own tw (they’re horrible but i love them)

****

part I

bnha masterlist

****

A part of you, however miniscule, wished you’d remained unconscious - for another month at least.

That would be better than having to sit through what must have been the hundredth police interview you’d had since waking up. They were never-ending - as soon as the doctors had cleared you and allowed more than two visitors at a time, they’d been flowing through the door as if drawn to you.

You supposed that it was necessary, you just wished that they would stop asking you the same three questions.

Did you see anything strange before you were taken? Yes, a bright light.

Do you remember their faces? No, I was unconscious.

How did you develop a quirk?

That last question annoyed you the most. How were you supposed to know how you magically developed a quirk? Honestly, it was ridiculous - they asked you a question, you answered truthfully, but they wouldn’t leave you alone.

Regardless, you were looking forward to being released. Not that you were overly eager to return home, especially since you were unsure of what awaited you. You just wanted to be back in a more familiar environment - one that didn’t have people flowing in and out as they pleased.

Though now that you had a quirk, there had been mentions of keeping you under surveillance for a while longer. While you understood their concerns, you were already irritable enough from having people in your space at all hours of the day. Any longer and you might well lose your mind.

Ironically enough, that was what everyone had been trying to avoid.

Having a quirk was incredible, but having developed it so late in your life, you had less control over it than a child would, especially since it wasn’t exactly natural - or at least that’s what the doctors had been telling you.

Besides mentioning that you should be kept under surveillance, there had been no mention of exactly who would be watching you.

You didn’t want to know, but you were sure that they wouldn’t grant you the kindness of ignorance.

****

Returning home wasn’t as exciting as you’d thought it would be.

It wasn’t as if you were expecting a welcoming party. You weren’t even expecting anyone to be home. But you thought something might have changed. Any change, even a negative one, would have been better than everything remaining exactly the same.

You dumped your bag on the floor as soon as you stepped into your bedroom, nudging the door closed with your foot.

Everything looked the same. Not one item was out of place.

Your bed was still neatly made, windows cracked open slightly, books stacked high on your desk. Even the jacket you’d tossed onto your bed before leaving was laying in the exact same place.

Shoulders slumped, you made your way to your bed and sat down heavily.

While your family may not have treated you well, at least they hadn’t shoved you into some small cupboard. Even if he hadn’t treated you well, your bedroom and belongings were the only things you felt as though you owed your father for - a kindness he probably didn’t owe you.

Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d even notice if you purchased something. His overflowing mountain of money would be difficult to dent, even if you went on an unrestricted spree with his card.

You flopped down on your back, staring up at the ceiling.

The walls were a neutral light grey, nothing overly colourful or special.

Just like you.

You flinched at your own thoughts.

The only thing that gave your room any personality was the glow in the dark stars stuck to your ceiling.

Years prior, Fuyumi had offered to redecorate your room. You had a feeling that it wasn’t out of the kindness of her heart.

You’d felt panicked and hurriedly told her no. She’d given you a strange look, one that you had ignored at the time.

No matter what changed throughout the years, your room was one thing you’d fight to keep the same.

****

Touya had spent a lot of time with you before he died.

Personally, you’d always thought that you were his favourite sibling. Not that you ever had the chance to ask.

He would spend his entire evening with you, everyday like clockwork.

At dinner, he’d sit to your right, between you and your mother. Shoto would sit to your left, next to your father.

He would talk to you, ask about your day, about what you’d done at school.

The fact that you were four and your stories hardly varied day-to-day never bothered him. He’d listen to your rambling words with rapt attention, gaze never straying from your own.

Touya took over your nightly routine when Rei began slipping. He kept you away from her when he saw the subtle hatred she had for you.

After dinner, he’d make sure you bathed, dressed, and brushed your teeth. He would occasionally read to you too, but often he’d just sit with you until you fell asleep, softly petting your hair.

One day, he decided that your ceiling was far too boring, and he surprised you with a pack of glow in the dark stars, as well as some themed stickers and a large bag of candy.

They were cheap, and for anyone else they may not have meant much, but for you, especially in the years following those, it meant the world.

You had many of his personal items from before he died too, not willing to part with them.

After a few years had passed, they’d been shoved to the back of your closet. While you wanted to hold on to a piece of him, it became difficult. Thinking about the fact that you’d lost the only person in your life that could tolerate you wasn’t a pleasant thought.

Regardless, the stars stayed. The stickers peeled away as the paint flaked, and his belongings were stowed away, but the stars remained.

****

After staring up at the ceiling became more of a chore than a bored pastime, you sat up and looked around your room.

It had been nearly three hours since you’d gotten back, and still, no one was home.

Usually, you’d stay in your room or leave the house, but after everything that had happened, you were apprehensive of straying too far away from the safety of your house. It may not have been the most welcoming, but it was better than whatever lay beyond the front door.

You didn’t want to test your luck anymore than you already had.

Staying in your room wasn’t high on your list of priorities either.

Well, I am kind of hungry, and no one else is home... Might as well raid the kitchen while I have the chance.

The sound of your footsteps is muffled by your slippers, the dull thuds filling up the empty hallways as you make your way to the kitchen.

You take your time searching through the pantry and fridge, in no hurry to scamper back to the confines of your bedroom. Your parents may have been kind enough to give you a decent sized room, but they were sure to shove you into the furthest, loneliest area of the house.

Perhaps that hadn’t been their intention originally - your room was right next to what used to be Touya’s bedroom. Of course, after he passed, your small bubble of safety grew to become incredibly isolated. Your father had his own wing of the house, even more solitary than your own with only Shoto nearby for company - not that your brother wanted to spend more time with him than what was required - and Fuyumi and Natsuo had their own comfortable wing of the house.

So you took your time in the common area, sitting cross legged on the floor as you peered around the bottom shelves of the large pantry.

Twenty minutes later, you decided on a large bowl of fruit. Just as you were contemplating whether or not to eat it in the kitchen or return to your room, someone let out a noise behind you. You turned, shoulders tensed, and-

“Shoto.”

Your twin brother, older by no more than ten minutes, looks almost shocked to see you, his brows lifted slightly, covered by his dual coloured fringe.

He says nothing, still silently staring at you.

His presence makes you uncomfortable. He was little more than a stranger to you at this point - you hadn’t held a conversation with him for longer than five minutes in years, especially when he seemed to stare you down silently for minutes every time you tried to talk to him.

“I was just looking for something to eat. The food in the hospital isn’t great and I’m hungry, so…”

You're not sure why you feel the need to justify your presence to him, but something about the way he’s staring at you compels you to speak even if you have nothing to say.

The silence between the two of you becomes almost unbearable, and you're about to say something, anything to fill the oppressive silence, but the two of you are interrupted.

Your father walks in, seemingly preoccupied with his thoughts. Though he seems distracted, he notices the two of you almost immediately. The atmosphere instantly shifts. It had been awkward before, but now, it was ten times worse.

“Ah, Shoto…” he trails off awkwardly, barely acknowledging you.

He seems uncomfortable, unwilling to meet your eyes, keeping his gaze trained on the floor.

A part of you wants to feel satisfied with his reaction, his seemingly ashamed attitude. But all you feel is an overwhelming sense of anger, of injustice.

After everything that’s happened, he still won’t even look me in the eye. Pathetic.

Just as Shoto opens his mouth to speak, just as you prepare to excuse yourself, the three of you are interrupted, Fuyumi walking in with her head down, going through her bag in search of something.

“Dad, have you seen my keys, I could have sworn they were just in my bag…”

She doesn’t take note of the uncomfortable tension until she looks up, her sentence dying out halfway through.

“Oh.”

Her arms drop down to her sides as the four of you stand silently, each person too lost in their own discomfort to say anything.

Fuyumi is the first to break the silence, and she shocks you by addressing you directly.

“I, um, I’m making dinner tonight, if you’re feeling up to it, I hope you’ll join us. Natsuo and Shoto are both home too, so everyone will be there.”

You aren't sure what to say, so you just nod, still staring at your father.

He’s the first to leave, walking out without a word. You leave next, abandoning your snack on the counter in favour of returning to your room. Your hunger had long since disappeared, replaced instead by a sick feeling at the bottom of your stomach.

****

Your quirk wasn’t anything particularly exciting - not that you would ever complain.

A mundane, somewhat common quirk was better than nothing, you knew that better than anyone.

Nevertheless, you knew that your quirk was relatively average, and genetically speaking, it made sense. Considering the fact that your father was a pyrokinetic and your mother was a cryokinetic, it felt as though you were the middle ground between the two.

Your quirk was the most simplified version of theirs that could be found.

Telekinesis wasn’t an awful quirk by any stretch, and the doctors, after several rounds of tests, had reassured you of that. They had told you that currently, you were at the level of a child, a five-year-old who had just received their quirk.

With time, you would gain better control over your abilities, pushing the boundaries and perhaps you could even surpass your father in terms of control.

The doctor who had dealt with you the most often - Dr Takahashi, or Kosuke as he insisted - was someone who specialised in unusual quirk development. He seemed delighted when he first met you, his eyes sparkling with a childlike wonder you hadn’t seen in many years. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought that he was more excited about your sudden quirk development than you were.

He conducted many tests and told you many things, each more anxiety inducing than the last. He made it clear that his goal consisted of two things.

First, to make sure that you could properly handle your quirk. No one wanted you to accidentally injure someone else or yourself because your emotions ran wild and you lost control.

Secondly, he wanted to learn as much about your sudden and impossible development of a quirk as he could. He told you that he had high hopes for the development of your quirk, that he was eager to see exactly how versatile it could be. He hoped, with enough time and control, you’d be able to manipulate and influence things on a molecular level.

You were just content to have a quirk, to be normal. You didn’t care much for becoming someone’s science experiment.

He’d been transparent about his motives from the very first day you’d met him, and that meant that you trusted him far more than you trusted any of the other doctors who claimed they wanted to help you. You knew they all held a morbid curiosity towards you and your abilities, but at least Kosuke was honest about it.

You knew better than to trust them.

****

The atmosphere was tense and oppressive. You shift in your seat slightly, eyes trained on the tabletop, as if it would crack open and suck you in at any moment. You wished it would.

Fuyumi clears her throat, leaning forward slightly.

“How’s the food? Natsuo told me all of your favourites, I tried to make them as accurate as I could. I’m not sure how you usually like it...”

She trailed off.

It didn’t seem possible, but somehow, her comment had made dinner even more awkward.

And you were about to make it worse. Much worse.

After a moment of silence, you spoke quietly, still staring down at the tabletop.

“The doctors said that it would be best if I remained under observation for a while, I’m sure you’re all aware of that.”

There’s a pause, almost questioning, but you don’t wait for anyone to speak.

“They recommended - or rather, they were advised - that I stay with... professionals.”

Your family seems to be holding their breath, even your father is completely focused on your words. You don’t want to disrupt the calm that has settled over your home.

It may have been tense and awkward, but it was better than having to walk on eggshells around your own home. But regardless of what you wanted, this was something that had to be said - there was just no avoiding it.

“They advised that I be sent to UA. The principal, Mr Nezu, has asked for me to be placed under his watch for the next few months at least. Well, not under him specifically - rather, with All Might.”

The air became uncomfortably warm, not that it affected anyone but you.

Fuyumi and Natsuo both had ice quirks, and Shoto was perfectly capable of regulating his own body temperature. None of them felt the scorching heat emanating from where your father sat at the head of the table.

You lean back in your seat, try to escape the waves of scalding air now filling the room.

“Absolutely not.”

Remaining silent seems to backfire, fueling your father’s anger.

He slams his hand down onto the tabletop, cutlery and crockery rattling from the force. You’re sure the table is cracked.

“You will not be going. Not only are you unstable, unable to control your... quirk, you’re also my child, and I won’t have that spectacle of a hero watching over you.”

The word hero is spat with such venom that you’re sure it’ll burn through the tabletop, much like his hand, steaming and smouldering as it sinks into the expensive wood as if it’s nothing more than butter.

A small part of you thinks that you should be offended by his words, by the fact that he seems to view you more as property than a living, breathing human being. You are offended.

But you’re more concerned with his not-so-subtle jab at your quirk.

Maybe you should bite your tongue, accept his words and look for another solution. You should at least try and keep the peace. You should, you know you should.

But you don’t.

“I know my quirk is unstable, that’s why I need to be with people that actually know how to help me control it. I’m not going to this school to have fun, I’m going there because I don’t have a choice.”

Your voice remains steady and even, but you can tell that it burns, much like Endeavour's flames.

Ironically, that’s probably as close as you’d ever get to having any similarities to your father.

Your siblings still remain silent, watching as your father’s anger unfolds before them.

He stands, towering over you, trying to intimidate you.

It works. No matter how much you may have changed, physically or mentally, you were still scared of your father. But this was something you couldn’t back down on.

“You will not be going. That is final.”

Years of being treated as a pariah in your home has taught you a lot, namely how to control your emotions in difficult times. But no matter how much control you display outwardly, your newfound quirk betrays your mental state.

“Like I’ve already said, neither of us really have a choice. I’m going, whether you like it or not.”

Fuyumi finally speaks up, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Calm down, calm down, you’re making everything fly around.”

True to her words, the cutlery and crockery are floating around the room, spinning rapidly around your heads.

You take a deep breath and everything falls, landing with a crash back on to the table.

Without waiting for permission, you stand up from your seat and leave, escaping to your room.

You had a lot of packing to do.

****

You decided that packing would have to wait until things calmed down, not wanting to incite another argument with your father. Rather, you settled for laying in bed, arms straight by your sides as you lay on your back.

Sleep had eluded you for the past few hours, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sit up or leave your room. So you lay there in silence, trying not to think about anything specific, instead letting your mind stagnate.

What would mom say if she was here now?

No, not mom - Touya, what would he say?

Your mind is a mess, and you try in vain to sort through the jumbled pieces.

Putting on a tough face was easy enough when the people around you didn’t care about making sure that you were okay, and usually you’d be able to sort through your problems and inner turmoil on your own.

Really, nothing has changed, so you should be able to think straight. But you can’t.

For some reason, one you’re blind to, you feel overwhelmed, and your breathing turns laboured.

You lay there in the dark, the sound of your panicked gasps filling the room, hot tears rolling down your temples.

It had been a while since you’d last felt this way, felt so helpless and agitated. You roll onto your side, curling into a tight ball, arms and legs tucked tightly into your stomach.

Scrunching your eyes closed, you try to take a deep breath, and it shudders through you, shaking your crumpled frame.

The past few days had engulfed you, but you’d been too caught up in the moment to truly process anything. Evidently, this was the moment that everything hit you at once.

You realise now how scared you were, how out of depth you felt.

Touya’s hand was warm on your shoulder, his arm wrapped around you tightly. He always felt like a furnace, as if he had a constant fever. It felt nice; comforting and familiar.

“Don’t cry, shh, shh.”

His calloused palm smooths itself over your cheek, wiping away the tears staining your face.

“Come on, pretty girl, don’t cry now.”

You sniffled slightly, clutching his shirt in your fists, burying your face into his chest.

“They hate me.”

He sighs heavily, arms coming to wrap around your head. He’s silent for a moment, contemplating his words carefully.

“They don’t hate you, I promise you. Hey, look at me.” He demands.

You do.

Of course you do. You do whatever Touya asks of you - he says jump, you say how high.

He gives you a soft smile, ruffling your hair lightly.

“I love you. Tell me.”

“You love me Touya.”

“Is that enough?”

You nod in the self-assured way that all children do, so sure that your big brother would never lie to you.

“They might not show it in the best way, but they love you too. Dad, Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shoto - they all love you so much, too much.”

You’re hesitant, unsure of his words. But he’s never lied to you, so you try your best to believe him.

He cracks a smile, the large grin splitting his face, eyes wrinkling on either side.

“But I love you more, you got that?”

He lightly digs his fingers into your sides, and you screech out loudly, giggling as he continues his assault.

“I didn’t hear a yes.” He says in a singsong voice.

“Y-Yes Touya-nii, I understand, I understand!”

You manage to get the words out through small shrieks and giggles, trying to slink out of his grasp.

He pulls you close, smothering you in a hug. He sighs heavily when you hug him back, the puff of air he lets out mussing your hair.

The memory calms you, breathing evened out, tears drying up.

You had many memories with Touya, but that one, one from mere months before he’d passed - it always stuck out more than the others.

It was your happy place, something you thought of whenever you got too overwhelmed.

You still feel overwhelmed and anxious, but at least you’ve stopped shaking.

The dried tears make your cheeks feel sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to move, let alone get up and wash your face.

You fall asleep still curled up in a tight ball, limbs tucked into your stomach.

****

It had been a week since you’d told your father what Dr Takahashi had advised, and you’d gone out of your way to avoid him and your siblings.

You’d been cooped up in your room for the vast majority of that time, leaving only to use the bathroom or raid the kitchen for food.

It felt cowardly to hide away and avoid your problems, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when dealing with it caused more problems than it solved.

Distractions didn’t come easily. You’d spent more time than you’d care to admit staring at the ceiling or out the window. The view had lost its charm after the second day.

Now, a week later, you decided to stop hiding away like a hermit and instead act as if nothing had happened - or at least act more maturely than you had been.

Still, you left your room cautiously, peering down the long, dark hallways as if there was a terrible monster lurking within your house.

You suppose that in a sense, there probably was.

The kitchen, thankfully, was deserted, quiet and clean as it usually was.

You distract yourself by filling a glass with water, the clear trickle of water the only sound in the empty space.

Leaning against the cool countertop, you slowly sip at your drink, eyeing the spotless kitchen with a disinterested eye.

If nothing else, Fuyumi had filled your mother’s shoes well, having taken over as somewhat of a caretaker after she had been sent away. Your father employed various maids and chefs on occasion, but Fuyumi oversaw a lot of the household work when she was available.

Similarly to your mother, she never showed much interest in you beyond feeding you.

The thought should have stung, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel very strongly about it anymore.

You’re so deep in thought, you barely notice your father entering the kitchen, Fuyumi close behind him, both of them carrying grocery bags while holding a quiet conversation.

The sight of him, standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms filled with bags of produce; it throws you off.

He looks so normal, so domestic, it almost convinces you that he isn’t as bad as you’ve always believed - that none of them are so bad. He’s dressed casually, jeans and a black polo neck shirt.

Sometimes, if you pretend hard enough, you can almost trick yourself into believing that you’re part of a normal, happy family. One that has dinner together every night, one that holds family trips and movie nights, a family that actually cares about one another beyond whatever twisted sense of duty your family seems to have.

Of course, that wasn’t possible, and the reality of your family was quite different.

Fuyumi is next to you now, eagerly attempting to converse with you, her hand resting gently against your forearm and she leans closer.

You flinch back, only slightly, but she notices nonetheless, retracting her hand a moment later.

Now’s as good a time as any.

Whatever your sister had been saying falls on deaf ears as you interrupt her, addressing your father with a clipped tone.

“About the other day - have you changed your mind yet?”

It’s innocent enough, posed as a nonchalant inquiry, one brought up in passing.

Only, you’re gripping the glass in a vice grip, knuckles turning white, and your eyebrows are slightly pinched together, wrinkling faintly.

Truthfully, you feel as though you’ve been wound up tight, like a spring. It’s all you can do to stop your hands from shaking - even worse, you have a suffocating hold over your quirk, forcing it down even as you panic.

Enji hums lightly, not looking your way as he sets his bags down on the countertop opposite you, his broad shoulders relaxed, his demeanour passive.

He turns to you then, and looks you in the eye. He searches your face, looking for something for a moment, and he seems to find whatever it is he’s looking for because he huffs and shakes his head, slowly making his way towards you with heavy steps.

Your father approaches you as if you’re some frightened animal, stopping a few steps away as he crosses his arms over his broad chest, muscles bulging, straining against the fabric of his shirt.

“If you truly need to train as the doctors have said, then you may train with me.”

Protests begin falling from your lips before he’s even finished his sentence, and you see his eyebrows quirk with irritation.

He raises a massive palm, silencing you with one look while he shakes his head.

If you didn’t know any better, you might have said he looked disappointed.

He speaks again once he’s sure you won’t interrupt.

"You'll train with me or not at all."

Something flashes inside of you then - anger or frustration or something similar. His selfishness truly knew no bounds, that much was clear.

"I'm not Shoto - I’m not Touya. You treat me like him - you treat me worse than you treated him, but no matter how much you force it, I am not him."

He steps forward, moving faster than your brain can register.

The entire left side of your face burns, stinging from the force of his calloused palm connecting with your cheek.

There’s a ringing in your left ear, and a gentle prod of your tongue reveals that your lip has been split open. You feel disorientated, and you’re surprised you didn’t fall down when he hit you.

You laugh then. Silently, humourlessly.

When your gaze meets his, he looks shocked, all the blood having left his face. A quick glance at Fuyumi shows that she’s just as shocked, one hand clenched in front of her stomach, the other covering her mouth which is twisted into a horrified expression.

Your father opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he gets the words out.

“You like to act like it, but you haven’t changed one bit.”

Pushing past him is easy, he doesn't try to stop you, not even calling out to you as you grab a jacket from the coat rack near the entrance and leave, slamming the front door behind you.

****

You walk around aimlessly, staring blankly into the storefronts of various shops.

After you’d left home, you got on to the first bus that had come by, getting off only once the walls had felt more suffocating than safe.

Where you were now, you had no idea.

Some or other business district, if you had to wager a guess. There were a few smaller stores and bars littered out amongst the highrise buildings, though the streets were mostly deserted. You hadn’t seen very many people, even after hours of meandering about.

You’d been walking around for a while, and the sun was close to setting now. The buildings around you were bathed in an eerie red-tinged glow, almost as if covered in blood.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were lost.

You were lost, and you didn’t have a phone. Hell, you barely had enough money for the bus fare back home - however far that may be.

Despite the dire circumstances, your panic felt strangely muted. Perhaps you’d exhausted your quota for negative emotions in this lifetime. The thought amused you.

Your face ached, and if you have to guess, your cheek was probably swollen and red from where your father had struck you hours earlier.

Trying to ignore the pain had worked well at first, though that was probably because you were running high off of adrenaline. Now though, the pain had set in, knocking you in full force, and your jaw throbbed horribly.

After weighing your options carefully, you decided that the best use for the last of your money would be to buy an ice pack.

You’d manage to find a way home, one way or another. Or maybe you’d continue to wander around for a while longer. Either way, the insistent pounding in your face was more important than returning home.

Finding a convenience store was easy enough, and you slinked into the first one you came across, the bell above the door jingling loudly. The noise made your head hurt.

For a store in the centre of a business district, it was surprisingly unkempt. Lights flickered oddly, the windows were mostly blacked out, and there were piles of merchandise stacked precariously throughout the small store.

You ignored your sense of unease, instead slipping through the store silently, making a beeline towards the freezers shoved in the corner.

The store may have been small and cramped, but at least it was clean. The sliding door moves smoothly, and a gush of cold air hits you as you reach into the freezer, grabbing the first ice pack you see.

As you make your way through the store, browsing to see if they had any snacks cheap enough to fit in your restricted budget, the bell above the door tinkled. You wince softly, ears still ringing loudly.

The old man really didn’t hold back. He hasn’t hit me like that in years.

Finally, you find a stack of cheap energy bars near the opposite end of the store. Grabbing a few, you make your way towards the counter.

The customer before you stands hunched over, a hood covering his head. He drops two cans and a packet of chips on the counter, tossing the money down afterwards. The cashier seems bored, his face flat and eyes dead.

After handing back his change, the cashier's eyes slide to you and you step forward, nearly colliding with the customer in front of you.

“Watch it.” He hisses at you.

You mumble out a few apologies, head tilted downwards, eyes trained on the floor.

He scoffs and makes his way to the door, meeting who you assume to be a friend. He throws you one last dirty look before the pair leaves, the door slamming shut behind them with a bang.

You don’t bother trying to hold a conversation with the man behind the counter, instead just pushing your items forward gently and handing him the money. You’re quick to leave after you’ve paid.

The cold of the ice pack seems to seep into your bones, numbing your cheek and jaw. It feels amazing, and you have to stop yourself from moaning out as it numbs the pain.

You curse yourself for not carrying more money - painkillers would have helped a lot at the moment, but you had to settle for a quickly melting ice pack and a cheap snack instead.

The few energy bars you’d managed to pay for were shoved into the pocket of your jacket, one hand clenching them, the other holding the pack to your face.

You pull the door open and dart outside, careful not to trip on the slight step in front of the store. You stand still for a moment, deliberating on which direction you should take.

A glance to your right, towards the busier part of the neighbourhood, shows the two men from earlier, lingering near the entrance of the store. You quickly decide to go left, hopping down the step and hurrying along the sidewalk.

As reluctant as you were to go towards the less populated area of the city centre, you weren’t eager to walk past the man from earlier either. Something about him made your hair stand on end.

Checking left and then right, you quickly dart across the road, risking a glance behind you.

The two men are gone.

You huff out a light laugh.

I’m so paranoid. God, that’s so embarrassing.

Regardless of the now empty street, you continue on in the direction you were walking. Having a quirk, especially one like yours, it made you feel safe. Even though you didn’t have the best control over it, it was better than being quirkless and defenceless.

The sun had set by now, and though there were many street lights, very few of them actually worked. The street was bathed in darkness, though your eyes adjusted quickly.

You should be concerned, you know that you should be - you’re alone, lost and in pain. But you feel somewhat weightless, almost free.

There’s a small skip in your step as you walk down the winding street, taking random turns and corners, not paying attention to your surroundings as much as you should. By now, the roads have become narrower, the buildings taller.

You’re in your own head, playing over the events of the day, when you hear the slight patter of footsteps behind you.

Something in your gait falters, and you fight the urge to stop and look around.

Perhaps you’re being paranoid, perhaps it’s nothing, but you’d rather be sure.

There are no corners or turns for a while, the street you’re on is long and narrow, so you decide to slip through the alleyway up ahead.

As you turn into the alleyway, you chance a glance behind you.

Nothing.

There’s no one there.

The street is empty, devoid of any life form other than you.

You clench the now limp ice pack in your hand, shaking your head slightly.

When did I become so paranoid?

You puff out your cheeks, holding your breath for a long moment before slowly releasing it. Under different circumstances, you might have laughed at yourself.

A short glance into the alleyway confirms that it leads to the next street over, so you decide to take it as a shortcut instead of walking around the cluster of buildings. It’s nearly pitch black, the dim light from the street lamps not reaching this far into the backstreets.

Stuffing the melted ice pack into your other pocket, you relax your shoulders and start making your way through the alleyway.

The sound of your footsteps echoes around you, bouncing from wall to wall.

You’re about a third of the way through the alley when your skin prickles painfully and you stop dead in your tracks.

There’s no noise, no movement, nothing to warrant the sudden fear you feel. But as much as you try to convince yourself, you can’t seem to move, rooted in place with terror.

Sucking up your pride, you turn to leave the alley and-

You’re face to face with a man.

At least, you assume it’s a man.

He’s tall, but that’s the extent of what you can see. His face is covered by a mask and he wears a brightly coloured coat and a ridiculous looking tophat. There isn’t even a sliver of skin visible, every inch of him covered by extravagant clothing.

His fashion choices are the least of your worries though. He stands casually, leaning against the wall of the alleyway.

It might have looked like he was outside for a break or some air, but the way his body is positioned, leaning towards you, ready and waiting, the way he covers the nearest exit from the alley - he has you trapped.

You don’t wait for him to speak or move. Instead, you take off running towards the far end of the alley.

His laugh is deep, the sound of it reverberating around you.

It’s a mocking sound, and it seems to chase after you as you run.

Whether or not he was innocent didn’t matter, his presence set off alarm bells in your head, and you’d rather be wrong and hurt his feelings than end up dead, or worse.

Only, you don’t make it very far before you’re skidding to a halt, trying not to crash into the man before you.

He grins widely, the scaled skin of his face stretching. What alarms you more than his menacing smile on his face is what appears to be a sword strapped to his back.

For one terrifying moment, your mind goes blank. You can’t think or move, and you stand there like a deer in headlights.

Thankfully, your body doesn’t fail you, some deeply buried instinct rising up to protect you as the scaled man approaches you, still smiling widely.

The alleyway, littered with junk and cardboard boxes, still feels cramped. But you thank the mess surrounding you as your quirk sends pieces of metal and plastic flying towards the man as he nears you.

His arms rise to protect his face as he’s pelted with scraps.

The man behind you seems to be more agile, gracefully weaving through the onslaught of rubbish being thrown his way.

You try to run again, slipping past the man still being attacked by your quirk. He tries to reach for you but you scamper out of the way.

Only, your efforts aren’t enough, and you feel yourself slowing down.

Am I slowing down?

No…

Your surroundings seem to become bigger, the exit of the alley growing further away with every step.

Except nothing was moving - you were shrinking, being encased in some type of blue shell.

The masked man, now ten times larger than you, picks you up with a light laugh. He says something to his companion, who is no longer being pelted with litter, before slipping you into his pocket.

Panic clogs up your throat, so thick and slimy that you can barely breathe.

You feel weightless for a short moment, and then you’re being moved again, the man taking you out of his pocket and placing you on the floor.

Returning to your original size happens rapidly, and you sway in place as you try to shake off the dizziness in your head.

“Ah, please wait here for a moment, you’ll meet the others shortly.”

You’re disorientated, confused as the masked man from before slips out of the room. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you collapse. The floor is dusty and the room is small. The smell of mildew fills your lungs uncomfortably as you look around the room.

It’s cramped, barely large enough for three people. You could probably touch the two opposite walls from your position on the floor.

Your mind runs rampant with what ifs and you wonder if you’re going to die soon. For all your bravado, having a quirk had done nothing to help you protect yourself. Shame flooded your mind and you had to bite back tears - both from terror and self pity.

Despite what the man had said earlier, he doesn’t return, and even with the situation as grim as it was, you find yourself falling asleep, still a crumpled heap on the floor.

****

There were times that you’d almost felt thankful that you’d been born without a quirk.

Like when you’d seen the way Touya and Shoto had to train with your father, the way he would hit and shove them, force them to push themselves to impossible limits just to meet his standards.

Sometimes being quirkless felt like a blessing in disguise.

There were also times, before Touya passed, before your mother’s break, that you’d felt as though your family might have actually cared for you. Well, everyone except your mother.

You weren’t sure whether it was a figment of your imagination or not, but it didn’t matter. It was little more than a hazy memory at this point.

Your father hitting Shoto harshly for making you cry, holding you close to his chest as he pet your hair. He smelt sharply of woodsmoke, sweat and soap.

Fuyumi petting your head softly after forcing treats down your throat.

Natsuo propping you up in the basket of his bicycle, flying down the hill as you screeched and laughed.

Shoto grasping your hand tightly, pulling you close after he crawled into your bed with you, claiming he’d had a nightmare, his presence suffocating you while he held you as close as he could.

You’d chalked it all up to a daydream. Even if it was true, all that had happened nearly twelve years ago. Those small actions hardly excused their awful treatment of you in the years following.

Worse than their cold treatment and harsh punishments had to be their effect on others. Even after all these years, the way that you were shunned by other people still stung.

You realise now that it may have been because of your lack of a quirk, but it must have had something to do with your father’s refusal to acknowledge you.

I feel bad - imagine being a pro-hero with a pathetic, quirkless loser as a daughter. I’d be embarrassed too, having to be related to someone like you.

You thought that gaining a quirk would change something, but evidently your family had a problem with you, not your lack of a quirk.

It had been a difficult realisation to come to, one you’d lost a lot of sleep over.

Asking your father to let you go to UA had been a double-barrelled question.

While you were actually asking him to let you join the famous school for heroes, you were also asking him to let you go.

Having no family and no home had to be better than suffering in a household of people who despised you.

Evidently, he couldn’t let you go.

He couldn’t love you, but he refused to let you go.

You felt pathetic, vying for affection for years from the people who hated you most.

Over the past ten years since Touya had passed, you’d tried only once to leave.

You’d packed a bag and left in the middle of the day, making sure that no one saw you leave. You’d made it pretty far too, before you were caught by a pro-hero who dragged you back to your father’s agency.

He beat you after that, smacking you so hard you felt your brain rattle in your skull, leaving bruises that stained your skin for months. He made it clear that you weren’t allowed to leave. They hated you, barely tolerating the sight of you - but you couldn’t leave.

It felt like a fate more cruel than death, some type of inhumane punishment for something you’d done in a past life.

Your siblings had treated you coldly after that too. They didn’t bother pretending to care when your father slapped you around as punishment, turning a blind eye as he told you that if you tried to leave again, he’d send you to the hospital with injuries ten times worse than those he had inflicted.

You suppose that you got the short end of the stick in many ways - you didn’t have a quirk, but you were still treated like Shoto and Touya.

****

You wake up to someone shaking you, propping you up as they try to get you on to your feet.

Flinching back, you blink blearily at them.

It’s the man from earlier, his hat and coat discarded.

“Come on, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to ask questions, instead yanking you up and pushing you towards the only door in the room.

Your initial panic returns, and you begin wriggling in his grasp, digging your heels into the ground as he tries to pull you out of the room.

His exasperated sigh is lost to you, too focused on breaking out of his grasp. He lets go of your arm for a moment before he has his hands wrapped around the back of your thighs, tossing you over his shoulder and walking out of the room.

The fists pounding on his back don’t seem to bother him, and your flailing legs are held down in a vice grip, his fingers digging into your thighs until you yelp.

“Stop moving.” He bites out in an irritated tone.

“Let me go!”

It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him. You had hoped to sound stern and angry, but it comes out as a broken, terrified garble instead.

He ignores you, making his way through the winding corridors.

Your search for objects to throw at the man proves to be futile - the corridors are barren.

Tears of frustration begin dotting at your waterline and you instead hang limply over his shoulder, trying not to think about all the horrible things that were about to happen.

He comes to a halt five minutes later, rapping on the door sharply before he’s let in.

You don’t have a chance to look around the room before you’re unceremoniously dropped into a chair. You’re sure it’ll leave a few bruises later on.

Just as you prepare to fling yourself to the side, to run away or attack the man with your quirk, your wrists are enclosed in thick cuffs.

Immediately, it feels as if a part of you has been shut off. A few seconds later and you’ve confirmed it.

Quirk cancelling cuffs.

The realisation that they were prepared enough to bring quirk cancelling cuffs scares you.

You don’t have time to linger on what that may mean.

“Little Todoroki.”

A symphony of laughter surrounds you. Mocking you, taunting you.

There are so many people. Even if you had access to your quirk, you were sure it wouldn’t be of much use.

The two men from before were standing off to the side, alongside two more and a woman. Before you stood a young looking girl, likely your age, and two other men.

Eight people.

You try to curl into yourself as best you can.

They’re all staring at you, waiting for you to say something, do something.

When you remain still and silent, a few of them laugh again.

“What, aren’t you going to thank us for your quirk? If I had known that you would be this ungrateful, I would have kept it to myself.”

Your blood chills and your breath catches in your throat.

There are so many questions flying through your mind, many of which you’re too terrified to ask.

“What?”

It’s whispered quietly under your breath, barely loud enough to be heard through the rush of blood in your ears.

“Oh don’t look so surprised, you knew your quirk wasn’t natural.”

Yes, you knew. But hearing it outloud, having it confirmed that your quirk wasn’t your own - it bruises your ego more than you’d care to admit.

The man before you, the blue haired one that seems to be the leader of the small group, continues talking, ignorant to your inner turmoil.

“I can almost see it now - Pro-hero Endeavour, beloved public figure, the famous flame hero - his own daughter affiliated with the same scum of the earth villains he’s sworn to fight. The irony, am I right?”

A few group members laugh cruelly as he continues on.

“Not only are you affiliated with us - you were so desperate for something that your father couldn’t give you that you joined a group of villains - in exchange for a quirk of all things. Oh how the mighty have fallen.”

He laughs then, different from before. It’s low and dry, and he approaches you, crouching down so that he can look you in the eyes through the mask on his face.

You’re horrified when you realise that it isn’t a mask - it’s a hand. A human hand.

Leaning back as far as you can in the uncomfortable wooden chair. It creaks loudly and the back of it digs into your shoulder painfully.

You hold his gaze for as long as you can, not saying a word, hardly daring to breathe.

“Aren’t you going to ask how we gave you your quirk?”

His question throws you off, and you blink, slightly dumbfounded. You open your mouth, and then close it again, unsure of what to say, of what he wants to hear.

Instead, you nod mutely, still staring intently at his face.

He snorts, shaking his head. He places his hand on your shoulder, leaning forward so that his head is next to yours, so close that his lips graze your ear as he speaks.

“Use your words.”

His fingers tangle gently into the hairs at the nape of your neck.

“How did you give me my quirk.”

Your words lack the tonation of a question, but he doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t answer your question either, rather, he grips the back of your neck harshly, pulling you so close that your nose almost brushes up against the hand on his face.

“I could kill you, you know? All it would take is a touch, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

You’re shaking now, though tears elude you. Your eyes are wide and your breathing shallow.

“But I won’t. My father’s experiment - my experiment - you’re proof that it was a success. Really, you should be thanking me.”

He leans to the side, placing his palms flat on your shoulders and-

Your jacket is gone. Where the familiar material once lay against your shoulders, there was now a fine layer of dust.

“My name is Shigaraki, but you can call me Tomura. We’re going to get to know each other quite well, so you should get comfortable,” he says as he brushes the dust off of your arms.

He clasps your upper arms in his hands, staring at you for only a moment before straightening himself and turning away. He leaves the room without looking at you again, instead waving his companions off and telling them to lock you away.

Most of the remaining people in the room leave then, still laughing and talking amongst themselves. The only two that remain are the masked man from before and one of the strangers who lingered in the shadows.

“Come on, I’ll take you to your room-”

The masked man is cut off abruptly as the other man, one with spiky black hair and charred skin, grabs his arm and whispers something to him.

Though you can’t see his face, it seems as though the masked man throws him a suspicious look. He relents, patting him on the back, leaving the room with one last glance your way.

You’re left alone with the charred man, his back facing you as he watches his companion leave.

…

His shoulders slump and he whirls on his heel, swiftly approaching you.

The palm of his hand is warm on your now bare forearm, and he yanks you harshly from the chair.

“Fucking finally,” he mutters under his breath, pulling out of the room, through the winding corridors.

****

Ten minutes later, you’re being shoved into a room, one much more spacious and comfortable than the one you first woke up in.

There’s a bed in the corner, narrow but comfortable looking, and a chair next to it. There’s also a door off to the side, and the short glance you manage to steal shows that it’s a small bathroom.

You feel sick.

Fan-fucking-tastic. I’m being held hostage. This is just perfect.

Your thoughts are cut short when the door slams shut behind you.

The man is still here with you.

He glances at you over his shoulder, his back still facing you.

One small step backwards turns into two, which continues on until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress.

You turn slightly, a few millimetres to see what you walked into.

The movement seems to stir the man from his stupor, and he swivels around to storm towards you.

You think he’s about to hit you, or shove you, or kill you.

But none of those things happen.

Instead, he pauses once he’s in front of you.

He stares at you, his gaze boring into your own. The silence is blaring.

You don’t blink. You don’t breathe. You stand and wait, still staring at him.

His lips slip into a crooked, wicked smirk and he pushes himself closer to you, leering at you. You lean back as far as you can, trying to keep some distance between the two of you until your knees fold and you collapse onto the bed.

The warning glare he throws you is icy, and he leans down to grab at the cuffs still encircling your wrists. After a long moment, there’s a silent click and your wrists are free. You immediately rub at the tender skin, still eyeing him suspiciously.

He pockets the cuffs before dropping down next to you on the bed, leaning back against the wall while he eyes you with what can only be described as amusement.

“Well?”

He gestures vaguely with his hand, an air of expectancy surrounding him. He quirks an eyebrow at you, lightly nudging you with his foot.

You angle yourself away from him, turning your body towards the door. But as hard as you try to ignore him, he seems intent on getting you to talk.

“What, aren’t you going to greet your big brother?”

He lets out a dramatic, pained gasp, one hand clutched to his chest.

“And I thought you missed me.”

His words make you freeze. You’re still facing the wall, so he’s unable to see your wide eyes or clenched hands.

But he’s able to feel the way the air becomes dense, to see the way your hair raises up slightly as you lose the hold on your quirk.

You feel suffocated, as if the walls are closing in.

Is this supposed to be some kind of joke? Is it a test - something meant to get a rise out of me?

“Hey, it was funny at first, but I want an answer.”

You don’t hear him, still rigid and distressed.

He doesn’t take your silence well, grabbing at your shoulder with rough hands, yanking you so that you’re facing him.

Even then, you remain silent, fearful of the strange man no more than two feet away from you.

His grip on your arm tightens, though you barely feel it.

The room feels warm, hotter than it had when you’d first arrived. His eyes flash while he shifts closer, crowding into your space, searching your face for something.

“You don’t recognise me,” he says decisively.

“Well, I guess I can excuse that - I have a more ruggedly handsome look now than I did ten years ago.”

His joking tone is lost on you. You’re sceptical of his words, of the situation you’ve found yourself in.

Trying to pry your arm out of his grasp proves to be difficult, his grip tightening uncomfortably.

“Say something,” he demands. He leans closer, too close. Close enough that you can smell him - metal and smoke and blood.

“It’s me - Touya. Come on, say something.”

His tone is pleading now, begging you to say something.

You lick your lips, eyes shifting around as you try to think of what to say.

“T-Touya?”

Your voice cracks, but it seems to be enough for him.

His eyes brighten a bit and he lurches forward without warning, pulling you into a suffocating you in a hug. You remain stiff, awkwardly patting his arm.

The grip he has on you tightens as a laugh rumbles in his chest.

“You don’t believe me. That’s fine, you will. Sooner or later.”

He moves back to his position by the wall, seemingly more comfortable than he had been earlier.

“W-Why should I believe you? You don’t have any evidence - this could be some ploy to get me to trust you and your friends.”

He shrugs, neck rolling side to side.

“I guess time is the only way to tell, and we have plenty of that. You’ll have to believe me eventually.”

There’s a pause, short and uncomfortable, before he’s speaking again, his eyes now bright and leering. The look he gives you scares you. You hold your breath.

“Tell me though - how is dear old dad? Does he still beat you?”

You gape at him like a fish, eyes wide in shock. He leans forward, still talking as if he doesn’t notice how his words burn you.

“Or how about mom, huh? She always hated you, though you never really accepted that. Come to think of it, they all did, to a degree. Not me though, I loved you.”

He has a sick look of satisfaction on his face.

No one but Touya could have known that, so it must be true that he’s your big brother.

The thought doesn’t comfort you as it should, you feel sick looking at the content look on his face. The Touya you remember would never have said something like that - something meant to cut you deep, to hurt you.

“Have you even seen her since she-”

“Stop it! I get it, you’re Touya, just- just stop.”

Your voice cracks pathetically.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that. Hey,” he grasps your arm again. You wish he would stop touching you.

“Since you believe me now, and you haven’t tried anything, I’ll give you a reward. You’ve been good, how about it?”

His nails dig into your flesh as he grows impatient with you, silently demanding an answer. A mute nod is all you can muster up.

You should be overjoyed, you know that. Your brother, who you had assumed to be dead, was alive. He was alive and right in front of you.

Except this wasn’t your brother. The man staring you down so intently was not Touya.

“You’re lucky, y’know that? You’re lucky I cared enough about you to volunteer you for this position. Hell, you’re lucky you got a quirk through this experiment and not the big boss like we usually do it. You’d be brain dead by now if that had happened.”

He talks over you even as you try to question him, his grip becoming bruising and painful around your arm.

“You’re lucky I’m not like dad,” he sneers at you. “If I were, I’d have smacked the shit out of you for how you spoke to me.”

Having heard enough, you yank your arm out of his grasp and stand up abruptly, staring down at him.

You’re confused and hurt, but most of all, you’re angry.

“You’re not Touya. Touya would never speak to me like this, he’d never allow me to be treated like this. And he definitely wouldn’t join a group of villains. I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t my brother. Maybe you were once, but now you’re nothing more than a corrupt piece of shit.”

He listens to you silently, waiting until you’re finished, chest heaving as you glare at him with all the hate you can muster, still gripping your bruised arm to your chest.

Then, he laughs.

It starts off softly. You barely hear it, the only indication that he’s actually laughing being the slight shake of his shoulders. As the seconds tick by though, it grows louder and louder, until he’s clutching his stomach, head thrown back as his bellowing laughs echo throughout the room.

He quiets down after a few minutes, wiping away a nonexistent tear, one last amused puff of air leaving his lips.

Before you can blink, he’s on you, smothering you.

His hands are on your throat, crushing your windpipe. The force of him jumping at you knocked you back, and you hit the wall with a loud oof, the air literally knocked out of you.

While his actions are crazed, his eyes are anything but. He stares down at you, his gaze drilling into yours. His thumbs press down and you’re letting out an odd choking sound.

“I knew I spoiled you too much when you were younger. You’ve become such a goddamn brat,” he spat, eyes wide and angry.

“Is this how you want me to act? If I’m really such a piece of shit, then maybe I should go all out, treat you exactly how dad does? Would you prefer that?”

He smirks slightly, more of a quirk of his lips than a smile, eyes narrowing while he continues to speak over your spluttering.

“Maybe that’s what you need - maybe I should go further than dad would, that’d really get the message through.”

His right palm, massive and calloused, slides off of your throat and down to your left shoulder, where his fingers grip into the tender flesh.

“Why do you make me out to be the bad guy, huh?” he sighs heavily.

“I try to help you and this is what I get in return - a bitch for a sister who doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. Well, that’s easy enough to remedy, I guess. I don’t like hurting you, but this is for your own good, I promise. Trust me, just like you used to - I’d never lie to you.”

His left hand leaves your throat, moving instead to cover your mouth.

You can breathe again, and you shudder as you try to suck in a breath with his rough palm covering your mouth. You wonder for a split second why he moved his hand, why he covers your lower face.

It becomes clear a moment later.

Touya’s quirk was always amazing. Blue flames that would dance beautifully, capturing your attention whenever he would show off to you. It was amazing, but it hurt him, in ways that you would never understand.

You never understood why he grimaced and whimpered and cried after using his quirk, but now you do.

His palm heats up quickly, blue flames searing the skin of your shoulder.

You scream then, eyes bulging, limbs thrashing.

The smell of your flesh sizzling makes you nauseous, and you start to feel light-headed.

After he decides you’ve had enough, he pulls his hand away, and an angry red welt remains, your skin still hot, sizzling and bleeding from the abuse. He slowly moves his hand away from your mouth, taking a step back.

His distance doesn’t last long - he’s back in your space in an instant as you stumble forward, his arms wrapping around you, carrying you back to the bed.

You feel feverish, and you briefly register that you’re about to pass out, though Touya’s words drown out your thoughts.

“See, now you went and made me feel bad. Just remember that this was your fault, you can’t blame me for your bad attitude. Hey, how about we start fresh after this, forget this whole thing happened?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead brushing the sweaty strands of hair off your forehead, softly petting your head with a loving look in his eyes.

“All of this aside, I did miss you, you know? I would check up on you when I could, though you never seemed to be too badly off. If there’s one thing I can’t fault dad and them on, it has to be the way they take care of you. It doesn’t hurt that they made sure you hated them just enough to make me look good.”

He stares at you fondly, and you don’t have the energy to bat him away, let alone to tell him how they’d made your life a living hell - how he was making your life a living hell. Your vision starts to swim, but he continues on.

“Yeah, I know, you probably don’t believe me, but they really do care for you. A bit too much if I’m honest, but whatever. You’re with me now, and that’s all that matters. It’s just the two of us again, just like it used to be.”

You wish he would stop talking, but his voice was surprisingly soothing and his touch was familiar.

“Shigaraki seems to like you too, which is good - that means the others will have to mind their own business too. Plus I’m here, so you won’t have to worry about them bothering you. But hey, you can’t call me Touya in front of those guys - call me Dabi.”

What kind of a name is Dabi?

You think briefly about the fact that you should have stayed at home instead of running off.

But despite everything that had happened, a small, dark part of you was happy. Your brother was alive - a monster, a villain - but he was alive. And a twisted, broken part of you was happy that he still cared about you.

Him hurting you wasn’t any different from how your father used to treat you. Perhaps you had traded in one evil for another.

You pass out still listening to him ramble on about how happy he was to have you back, how much he’d missed you, how lucky you were to have such a caring big brother.

****

Dabi - Touya - sighs heavily, still stroking your hair. He stares down at you with a remorseful look in his eyes.

“I know you can’t hear me, but I have to get it off of my chest. It’s probably for the best that you’re unconscious actually.”

He laughs, though it lacks humour or happiness.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice cracking. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, and I’m sorry I had to leave you. I’ll understand if you hate me, but this is just the way things have to be now.”

His hand pauses as his attention wanes, eyes glazing over as he focuses on something unseen.

“I was never as great as you thought I was. But I’m still sorry,” he says, clenching his hands in fists, nails indenting the flesh of his palms.

“I don’t like hurting you, not that it helps at all.”

He stands, rearranging you more comfortably on the bed.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this - but it’s for the best. I promise.”

I promise.

1K notes · View notes