#FUCK i love fuyumi
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four months into getting to know each other, shouto finds him by touya-nii's shrine. his little brother gently sits down beside him and offers a small prayer.
"yumi-nee-san," natsuo wonders if his little brother will ever drop the second honorific, "said you were the closest to him," shouto says quietly.
after all these years and the use of past tense still makes his heart break. 'you are the closest to him' he wants to correct but that wouldn't make sense anymore. touya-nii hasn't been talked about in the present tense since before middle school. does shouto even remember a time before nii-san's dea-, disappearance?
"yeah, i was," he says, eyes never leaving the photo. it's the one nii-san took for sixth-grade picture day. kaa-san had got him all dressed up and he had hated it. somedays he thinks if he looks close enough, he'll see the displeased pout on nii-san face. "why?"
his little brother says nothing for a long time, back ramrod straight. natsuo has no idea what's going on in that head of his. shouto has so few tells that he's practically a blank slate. natsuo hates his father.
then slowly and so quietly, he has to strain his ears to catch it, shouto stammers out, "do-, do you think he would have liked me?"
natsuo's immediate reaction is to say 'yes'. yes, of course, touya-nii would've loved you. yes, of course, touya-nii would've crossed the heavens for you. yes, of course, he would've loved you shouto; you're his precious younger brother.
but he remembers the way nii-san used to spit out shouto's name when he was a kid. the way his brother's mouth wrapped around it, the face he made, like he had just eaten something disgusting. he remembers the way touya-nii had become almost crazed by the end, hellbent on proving himself the rightful heir to their shitty father's legacy. he remembers the way touya-nii had said, "i just need to prove that i'm better than him,"; the 'him' said with such bitterness and contempt.
he knows instantly that touya-nii would not have liked shouto. that this house and his father would have twisted any ounce of love, nii-san would've held towards shouto, into jealousy and hatred.
(this house may have ruined all of them but it only ever broke two of them.)
natsuo can't say any of that to shouto. his kind little brother who forgave him for not being there. his amazing little brother who falls in love with every cat he sees. his wonderful little brother who has a wickedly dry sense of humor. his soft baby brother who loves him and yumi-nee with a passion. his tender-hearted baby brother who still worries if his long-gone older brother would've liked him.
no, natsuo can't tell shouto that nii-san wouldn't have like him. shouto will internalize it like he does with everything else that hurts him. and there is already so much that hurts shouto, he will not add to that list. his baby brother smiles these days, nothing big like his green-haired friend, but quiet, lovely, ones all the same. shouto talks more these days. they have dinner together when natsuo is home. his baby brother laughs now. it's a miracle like nothing else in this world.
shouto is the best thing to come out of their house and natsuo will die before he ever hurts his little brother. so instead, he curls an arm around shouto's shoulders and pulls him into a loose side-hug.
"of course!" he lies cheerfully, ignoring the ache in his chest, "touya-nii would've loved you. you're his — and our —precious little brother after all. there is no universe in which he wouldn't have loved you."
the tips of his baby brother's ears go red and his pleased little answering smile makes the ache of lie go away. natsuo will tell a thousand more lies if it means shouto never stops smiling like that.
#PLEASE THEY MAKE ME INSANE!!!!#and the thing is natsuo's not wrong. touya really would've loved shouto in literally any other universe#also natsuo who fucking /adores/ his baby brother so much#shouto laughs and natsu's like: the second coming of jesus christ could not compare to this#100% natsu is shouto's overprotective brother#it's the like 15 years of suppressed older sibling instincts coming out#someone fucking looks are shou wrong and natsu's all up in their face like: what's your fuckin issue with my bro dude??#natsuo for once being thankful that he got endeavor's height and build#fuyu: i thought you said you didn't like looking like dad?#natsu: that was before i found out i could use it to intimidate people that looked a shouto wrong#fuyu: natsu you think every1 looks at shou wrong. you tried to fistfight a baby yesterday#natsu: yeah well it shouldn't have cried when shou held it. did you see how sad shou looked????#fuyu: never pegged you for a brocon to be honest#natsu: you take that back rn#todoroki shouto#todoroki natsuo#todoroki touya#todoroki fuyumi#todoroki family#bnha
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beside the fact that todorokis weren't telling touya to stop causing troubles for them and killing people, and instead were telling him to stop burning himself, i feel like telling someone to stop killing people is. also a fair thing to say.
#'stop causing problems stupid bro' 'i don't wanna lose anyone else'#they are literally just saying that they want him to stop because they love him and don't want to lose him or anyone else again bruh#'causing problems' in this case means him dying and leaving them to mourn both their dad and him all over again#no one is victim blaming him here they're begging him to stay with them#it's not fucking hard to figure out#what's the holdup here#bnha#bnha spoilers#bnha 388#todoroki touya#dabi#todoroki rei#todoroki fuyumi#todoroki natsuo#it's funny 'cause i really thought that this chapter was clear as crystall. but apparently it was not for some people.
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Hi
I'm alive
And I am giving you all my hot take on the layout of Casita from Encanto (with additional fankids made by me and @constant-state-of-self-discovery)
@encanto-extended-edition
#encanto#casita#layout#WHEN I SAY I HAVE SOME OF THE WORST SPATIAL AWARENESS#and i somehow pulled this thing of???!#i mean#holy shit#shut up kido#I EVEN ADDED HANA INTO THE EQUATION JFC#arting is hard#art#yes i drew this#and yes it TOOK ME FUCKING AGES#we love encanto#hana fuyumi d'angelo madrigal#valentina madrigal#la familia madrigal#bruno magridal#pepa madrigal#julieta madrigal#agustin madrigal#felix madrigal#antonio madrigal#luisa madrigal#isabela madrigal#camilo madrigal#dolores madrigal#alma madrigal#mirabel madrigal
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“maybe if i, an 8yr old, managed to talk sense into my groomed and deeply traumatised 13yr old brother, maybe he wouldn’t have accidentally almost killed himself and become a villain” and no one in that room disagreed with him??
#none of them?#not one of them went hey maybe it wasnt on us literal children to try and help him?#this is where the endeavour redemption completely lost me#it was as well written as it could be up until this point#natsu still hating him fuyumis trauma response of lets just bury everything and be a normal family shoutos conditional forgiveness#especially when endeavour said ill buy you all a house and you never have to see me again#i could live with that. i hate it (make him face a lasting consequence for the love of god) but i could live with it#he doesnt deserve forgiveness and he deserves every ounce of emotional pain hes experiencing bc holy shit he irrevocably ruined five lives#but then they really turned around and said yeah us victims share the blame for how touya turned out#what the fuck#reis level of blame is debatable since even if she was mentally stable she was still always in the mindset of hey this guy Bought Me#and his continued Buying Me will fund my parents who Sold Me to him#even before any anbuse happened she was never going to be able to stand up to him#endeavour groomed touya just like afo did with shigaraki except even worse bc it happened from day dot#then he completely cut him off from the thing he groomed him to be and dumped him on rei until he got the child he wanted#dabi was never anything but endeavours fault and the fact that the narrative is trying to make them all share the blame#and frame it as a see endeavour when we all share fault and support you isnt it easier for you? cant you stand up and solve the problem now?#its the most classic victim blaming ive ever seen and were supposed to just take it and be like aw theyre facing dabi as a family#fuck off#and even then he still freezes and makes shouto fight dabi#you cant do it so i the 16yr old you also abused will fight my brother the kid you drove to accidental suicide for you#and when he finally gets over himself (after shouto is nearly killed dont forget that) and decides hes finally strong enough to fight him#were supposed to cheer that moment?#yay hes finally going to look at touya! were the fuck was he an hour ago cause he aint done shit against afo#the family needs to share blame and support him so he can face the blame and support himself fuck off#go beyond plus ultra#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#endeavour#dabi#todoroki shouto
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is fuyumi evil?
She's not evil anon. she's just... broken and devastated
her sense of justice is very odd yet justified, imagine losing your parents once, just when you thought you could earn love by new parents those ones get killed, and the person who orchestrated it is the person you loved more than anything, let alone said person was planning on killing you along with the other parents
it's very similar like.. Batman? he has a very odd sense of justice too
Fuyumi executed S.O.G because of everything they did but mostly because they killed her adoptive parents the empress and emperor, and since Harumi is gone she pretty much took her anger and pent-up rage on S.O.G
She's not sorry and she's totally shameless, because well her sense of authority is pretty high too and justifies what she does by saying that they all deserved it and the city should be thankful that she got rid of them
She's a morally gray character, she's not a bad person that's for sure, she does everything right for ninjago city and would cut her hand off before she intentionally did something bad to ninjago (mostly following her parents steps and because she wants to fix what harumi has done)
And mostly because she prefers to work behind the scenes? unlike Harumi Fuyumi can't mask her emotions really well so she just does her duties and everything behind the curtains and WHEN an interviewer asks or something she just says everything without breaking a sweat.
So yea she's not evil anon, she's too tired and numb from everything that happened and everything that's STILL happening around her to be evil
#lore#sorta#shes very complicated#you know when you like#go through so much and then after taking revenge youre still not satisfied#not only that but you realize you're slowly becoming the person you hate the most#the person you get compared to everytime#yea fuyumi is fucked up#we love her for it#asks#i cant wait to continue the story#twin au#harumi's twin sister au
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After reading the manga a while back, I thought "what if Touya never woke up from his coma?"
and that happened-
#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero fanfic#the todoroki siblings deserved better tm#todoroki shouto#todoroki fuyumi#todoroki touya#dabi#natsuo todoroki#dabihawks#seroroki#rumiyumi#natshig#hero touya!!! i love him#league of villainIOUS QUIRKS?1#keeping up with the todorokis#except its good#fuck endeavor#screw that guy#they're dorks your honor#they're ALL dorks#fix it fic#ill get to it eventually#meaning a new chapter
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not to bnha on main but I'm thinking about fuyumi
#i havent seen all of s..6? we're on s6 right? whatever#nor have i read the manga#but i know enough spoilers to be in LOVE with my girl#and i have a fic rattling around in my brain that i dont have enough context for#so spoilers bnha manga if u care abt that#but learning that fuyumi and touya are twins Changed Me because its about the FUCKING SIBLING TRAUMA (2.0)#its about twin's quirks being switched in the womb its about being born next to your best friend and your worst enemy#its about fuyumi wanting her family to be functional instead of the fucking dumpster fire it is#because she already lost touya she cant lose natsuo and shouto too#endeavors like 'trying his best' or whatever but i dont think she.. cares all that much about him.#her being cordial is like glacial politeness. the casual wielding of words.#plus she has such an interesting character set up???#her twin brother is being brutally trained and shes a child and cannot do anything about it#her mother takes her under her wing and tries to teach her the unspoken rules of women in this household#fuyumi hears her twin soul scream bloody murder and cannot lift a finger. she must learn how to sew#then her next brother is born and she thinks of all the ways she cant protect him. but his quirk appears.. similar to hers#shes so desperately relieved. her twin receives new scars every day.#shouto is born. her and her mother stare at each other silently in the home because they know what this will mean.#fuyumi is 12 years old when her mother is sent away. her baby brother throws up because of her father pushing him too hard#fuyumi is now the woman of the house. she is 12. she is a child#touya is gone. hes dead. her twin brother died (because of her father. they all knew touyas weakness)#fuyumi is the eldest. she has to be the glue sticking them together. she makes meals for her scarred brothers.#she is silent. she is scorned for her lack of anger.#who has space for anger when you must become a mother at 12?#fuyumi is an incredible character and if the writer (horikoshi?) wasnt so SHIT at writng female character arcs maybe he would have realized#😭😭😭#ollie rambles#me being true to my tag#FUCK i love fuyumi#sibling relationships always take me tf out but these tragic ones are perfect
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11:15
Fluff, Bakugou x g/n reader
“This is dumb.”
“It’s not dumb. It’s math.”
“But it’s not fuckin’ math.”
“Ugh, it’s an expression.”
“How is math an expression?”
“Oh my god...it just means it adds up, grandpa.”
“Still doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense.”
“Yes, it does. Here, we’ll try another one. Todoroki.”
“IcyHot?”
“No, Fuyumi. Obviously Shoto.” Your head jostled as a pillow thudded against your face before returning to the lap it had flown from. “Hey!” The blonde was nearly pouting.
“Don’t call him that.”
“You started it. Anyways...our Todoroki.” Your eye roll was interrupted as you dodged his second attack. This time you tugged the pillow into your own lap before he could reclaim it.
“Don’t call him that either.”
“Oh my god, just answer.”
“Man written by a man.”
“Noooo.” You kept one hand gripped into the pillow while the other massaged at your temple. “No, you’re still not getting it at all.”
“His dad was the one who raised him though.”
“Hardly-” the word combined with your scoff, “-and that’s not the point. He’s man written by a woman for sure. Especially after his character growth back in year one.”
“The fuck? Like what?”
“He listens, he’s supportive, he’s thoughtful, he is always trying to learn how to communicate better, works hard to strengthen the relationships around him, he-”
“Okay, I get it! Damn!” You didn’t reply, giving him a moment to collect whatever festering thoughts he seemed to be sorting through. You waited patiently for him to choose one to give shape to. He shaped it into a grumble. “...so what am I?”
“You? Hmmm.” You put effort into looking thoughtful.
“Man written by a man?”
“No?” He looked relieved, but unsure. Perfect. His loss of cushioned weaponry made you brave enough to continue. “You’re more like a feral raccoon written by a-“ He lunged. “Hey!” You shifted the pillow behind your back, pressing your body against it. You realized a little too late that obviously left one thing for him to go for...you. He had you pinned between those massive arms. Your smile was instant.
“I’ll show you fuckin’ feral, brat.”
“Okay, so now you’re a man written by a woman.”
“The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Several things, which is probably why I’m interested in feral rac-”
“Shut up.”
“Yessir.” You saluted as much as you could with the space you were given. He let his arms buckle, falling forward and knocking the wind out of you a bit. He laughed or huffed into your neck. Either way he was at your shoulder, shaking his head before he kissed your cheek.
“Thought you were gonna’ show me feral?”
“Mmmm, later.” He continued, answering the question you hadn’t asked yet. “You calmed me down.”
“Oh.” You ran your fingers through his hair. You could feel and hear his hum at the action.
“Keep talkin’.”
“You told me to shut up.” He nuzzled further into your hair as you pulled his.
“Didn’t mean it.” You scratched at his scalp again before sliding down to his neck and shoulders. “Wanna’ hear ya.” He was whining.
“Always so bossy.” You laughed as he dug a knuckle into your rib. “I didn’t say no.” He seemed satisfied as he settled himself further. Before you could complain about the weight, he shifted, turning into half big spoon/half weighted blanket.
“So my favorite things about raccoons...” He pawed at your face with one hand, attempting to hide his laughter somewhere to your left. “You’re exactly right. Let’s start with their hands and how they use them.”
He loves nerds.
Masterlist
#bakugou#bakugou fluff#bakugou x reader#bnha fluff#bnha#bakugou imagines#bakugou drabbles#bnha bakugou#bnha imagines#bnha drabbles
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WHERE LOVE LIVES
big bro touya & little snotty brother shouto, noncanon verse where rei got the kids the fuck out of that house!!!! slightly suggestive at first but shouto is a cockblock, i love u todobros, part 2?
Against the creaks of the floorboards and the buzz of the streetlights outside, the Todoroki household is relatively calm.
It’s barely the beginning of summer. Though it's rather late, the sun only set a mere hour ago and the humidity in the air still holds up, even without the harsh rays marinating the sky.
The Todoroki house itself is on the smaller side, especially for a family as large as they are. Filled to the brim with trinkets and out of place belongings, there’s not much wiggle room for architectural design or things that aren't deemed necessities.
But it’s well-loved, by a gentle mother and her four rowdy children. There are scratches on the floor from Shouto’s scooter that’s meant to be used only outdoors, and a chip in the beige paint from where Natsuo pushed Touya into the wall. Fuyumi’s work sneakers carefully sit beside the front door’s welcome mat. It’s a house and a home.
With Touya’s mother out for the night, the eldest son was left in charge of the house—and with that, his siblings. When your boyfriend charmingly invited you to spend the night at his place, he might’ve left out that tiny detail.
“Babe,” the squeaking of Touya’s mattress can he heard as he whines against your cheek, “you serious?”
You push him, though your warm smile betrays your rough action, “Deadly.”
Touya smirks at your resistance—he’s always loved a good challenge. His hands crawl up your sides, squeezing at the sensitive skin by your hips and waist. He laughs under his breath when you gasp on top of him at the brushing of his fingertips.
“Not even a quickie?” he smugly instigates.
“Touya, all three of your siblings are home.”
He remains unphased, shrugging beneath you. His chapped lips find your neck, crawling up to your jaw and right below your ear. He sucks a bit harshly on the one spot he knows you like so much.
“So? We can be quiet.”
You laugh at his bold words, and Touya hums happily against the vibration of your throat.
“You’ve never been quiet a day in your life,” you remind him.
“I could learn,” he’s quick to retort. With a sudden buck of his hips, you feel his half-hard length rub briefly against your heat. Touya doesn't miss the way you bite your tongue to hide your whimper.
At his foul play, you lean in dangerously close—not close enough to give him the satisfaction of your lips touching—before whispering.
“Sorry, I don’t fuck bad babysitters.”
Touya’s tongue skims his canine as he growls. “That’s a fuckin’ lie and you know it.”
You let him kiss you, and it's short and sweet despite his lewd words. But Touya works for more. His soft tongue tries to encourage your mouth to open, but you let him fail the first few times. On his third persistent try, you let your jaw fall open just enough to allow him access into your mouth.
A soft moan purrs in your chest, and when Touya opens his eyes to take in (what he knows to be) the alluring sight, his eyes catch a tiny figure standing in his bedroom doorway.
“Fuckin’ christ—” he jumps beneath you, bucking you off in the process and scootching upwards against his bedframe.
You turn in panic to look at the now cracked open door, only to see a tiny Shouto. With squinting eyes and a pout on his face, his dainty hand fiddles against the doorknob of your boyfriend’s room.
Touya runs his hands through his overgown roots in frustration.
Now, he knows how dramatic he can be at times, but he means it when he says that this might be the worst thing to ever happen to him. Shouto, of all people, cockblocking you two. It’s like a comedy sketch written by his own personal devil.
“The fuck are you doing up?” he dares to ask him, though you don’t miss the “fuckin’ perv” he grumbles at the end of the question.
“I—” a sniffled hiccup interrupts the smallest Todoroki’s declaration, “don’t feel good.”
Touya glares at his whimpering younger brother, unimpressed. “Go tell Natsuo,” he decides.
“He’s asleep,” Shouto immediately whines in reply, because of course he tried Natsuo first. “And Fuyumi is studying for her big test tomorrow,” his voice drifts off as his eyes find the floor.
Touya, the last resort sibling, kisses his teeth and throws a pillow towards the door.
“Well, ’m busy, too.” He returns to nip at your neck once more, but the glare you give him tells him otherwise. Unphased by your glare, he continus to lean in, but you dodge his advance and push his shoulder with your palm.
“Fuck,” he groans dramatically, throwing his head back in frustration. He turns his direction back to the boogery nuisance in his doorway. “Go drink water or something,” he waves him off with a hand.
“Touya,” you hiss at your boyfriend’s coldness. He looks at you and shrugs, as if you’d approve of his dismissive reaction. Your eyes roll just as quickly as your voice beckons softly, “Come here, Shouto.”
You move to the edge of the bed and the sniffly boy trots over to you on heavy feet. His pajamas are wrinkled, presumably from tossing and turning in his bed for the last few hours. His hands hover over his abdomen as he hunches in nausea.
Your hand finds his forehead, sticky with sweat. “What doesn’t feel good?”
Shouto’s nose crinkles in disgust, and Touya rolls his eyes at the dramatics.
You’re no stranger to any of the Todoroki siblings, especially the baby of the family. Between attending his school concerts and going out for ice cream celebrations, it’s safe to say there’s a lot of talk in the house about Touya’s pretty girlfriend—whom all siblings aren’t shy to vocalize is way out of his league.
“My stomach feels weird,” he whispers behind a frown.
You coo at his agony, fingers rubbing his boyish cheeks in an attempt to soothe his discomfort. “Well, what did you eat last?”
Shouto thinks for a moment behind his usual deadpan expression before his eyes slowly flicker over to where his older brother huffs on his bed.
“Touya got us pizza for dinner,” he remembers.
“Okay,” you nod. You remember seeing a few discarded pizza boxes when you first came in. “How many slices did you have?”
Shouto clams up in guilt at your innocent question, fumbling with his fingers and words as he croaks out a weak, “Seven…”
Your eyes grow in shock, but you’re able to suppress your surprise and merely nod before not so discreetly turning to his guardian for the night behind you in disappointment.
Touya looks like a deer caught in headlights when you hiss through clenched teeth. “Seven?! What is wrong with you?”
He shrugs defensively, gesturing to the blob of red, white, and sniffles behind you.
“He’s like… old,” Touya attempts to defend himself. “Figured I didn't have to watch him eat.”
Your eyes shoot daggers through his skin, and while he would normally love getting this look from you, he hates that it's in defense of his stupid brother.
“Okay,” you sigh, turning back to the younger Todoroki. His eyes soften when you extend a hand to his slightly chubbier one, “Why don’t we go find some medicine and lay down for a bit, yeah?”
Shouto’s face lights up at the offer—but naturally, with one Todoroki sibling’s happiness comes another’s demise.
“Woah woah woah—” Touya immediately stands up from his bed when his brother links your hand in his. He points at an accusatory at the little fucker when he gawks, “Who the fuck is ‘we’? Shouto knows where the medicine is.”
“Touya,” comes your same warning from earlier, and while Touya loves pushing your buttons, he knows his final strike is always the third.
So the three of you make your way downstairs—you and Shouto hand in hand while Touya grumpily trudges behind you.
Touya’s right—for once in his life—because Shouto naturally guides you right to the medicine closet, opening the door for you and everything. What a little gentleman.
A quick browse of the options and you decide on a bottle labeled for stomach relief. The bottle itself is opened but decently full, and Shouto behaves like a pro when he grabs himself a glass of water in preparation for his dose.
You pour the designated amount into a medicine cup and lightly cringe at the thick consistency. The artificial advertisement of bubblegum and strawberry can only do so much to disguise the fact that, at the end of the day, it’s still medicine. You hear Touya stifle a gag from behind you, but you know it’s half to piss his younger brother off.
Shouto remains unphased, downing the liquid like a champ and silently rinsing out his mouth with his water. You swear you see him shoot Touya a look, one with slightly raised eyebrows that reads something along the lines of victory.
You usher the two of them to the couch. Touya plops on the cushions obnoxiously, going as far as reaching for the television remote before you pluck it from his grasp.
Though you sit beside him, knees skimming one another, it’s not enough for Touya—because Shouto makes himself at home with his head in your lap. Bastard.
With a nod of approval from Shouto, you decide on some cartoon from the early 90s—something with talking animals and childish violence.
The silence between the three of you takes over, but it’s warm—like a relaxing blanket of weight. The Todoroki household is rarely quiet, let alone a good kind of quiet, so Touya decides to let Shouto win this round.
He shifts his gaze to look down at his youngest brother. Shouto lays comfortably on your lap, your hands delicately raking through his hair to help lull him to sleep. When he feels Touya’s hard gaze on him, he has no issue returning the stare. Under your embrace, Shouto smiles mischievously and sticks his tongue out in a taunt.
With Touya’s feet clunkily spread out on the coffee table and his arm loosely draped around your shoulder, he silently mouths to his brother.
“Bitch.”
#I had a BALL with this one#i love u todobros#touya x you#touya x reader#dabi x you#dabi x reader#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you#touya fic#dabi fic#touya fluff#dabi fluff
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someone new
Synopsis: Post-war!AU. It’s the quite moments that Touya enjoys the most. Sometimes he still has a hard time believing they’re real. That you are real.
He has no problems allowing you to remind him of the latter.
Word count: 16K
Paring: Dabi x Reader (fem!reader)
Warnings: Mentions of post surgical interventions, Touya has hints of survivors guilt and some suicidal idealization if you squint, Smut and additional warnings listed below and on A03 so Minors or Ageless Blogs please DNI. This is rated 18+
Playlist: Omar Apollo - Evergreen (You Didn't Deserve Me At All)
Authors notes: Written for @shibaraki Komorebi collab! Thanks for having me love! Hope you enjoy!
Title is from Someone New by Hozier
**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works onto my A03 account!
Sometimes Touya wonders how he got here.
It’s a loaded question and he knows as much. He knows exactly where he is, and he’s painfully aware of the series of events that led him to this moment in time – but he often finds himself struggling to believe it.
A part of him doesn’t want to believe it – a gnarled, still-angry part of what remains of his soul is convinced that it’s all part of some elaborate dream – one that will fade away and leave him alone and bitter once more as soon as he opens his eyes.
He falls asleep again and again, trying to prove his theory, but every time he wakes back up, he’s still in the same place:
He wakes up in your sun-lit apartment, more often in your bed, with you – always close by, never too far away.
It’s where he is even now: nestled into the soft sheets of your—no, the bed you shared together, even though it’s pushing noon on a Tuesday. Despite his body screaming at him to move, he can’t bring himself to get up just yet.
It’s not like it matters if he stays in bed anyways, he doesn’t have anywhere to be. He doesn’t have his court mandated therapy appointment until Thursday, and it’s not like he has a nine to five job like most people do. Christ, he can’t even leave your apartment building without you or a Pro-hero escort with him. (Who, ninety-five percent of the time ends up being Shoto, since he’s about the only person who wants to deal with him these days aside from you, his mom, and sometimes Fuyumi and Natsuo.)
He rolls over slightly and listens for you, trying to hear the tell-tale tread of your footsteps echoing through the halls, or the sound of you humming a gentle melody under your breath as you do your menial chores around the apartment; before it finally occurs to him that it’s a weekday and you’re at work.
He stifles a groan as he finally pushes himself up, and makes his way towards the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, flicking on the light and shutting the door behind him.
That was his biggest problem these days: not wondering when his next meal would be. Not obsessing over ruining his father’s life as he had done his. Not charring himself past the point of no return as a means of exacting vengeance upon the world of Pro Hero’s that had long since turned their backs on him. No. That was all in the past.
For the first time in his life, it was boredom that was getting to him.
That was a joke if he ever fucking heard one.
Looking at himself now it’s hard to believe that he was once a homicidal serial killer, with a rap sheet several miles long.
He looks different now. He fights the urge to snort as he turns away from his reflection in your bathroom mirror while he goes about his business.
Like a snake that sheds it’s skin every couple of years, he’s changed his form once again; though this transformation wasn’t up to him. He had no choice in the matter; what happened to him after the war was decided for him. His opinions be damned. (Though, if he thinks about it, he didn’t really give All For One and his fucked up scientist permission to piece him back together after he incinerated himself up the first time. The irony almost makes him laugh.)
He forces himself to face his reflection in the mirror as he begins the painstaking task of his skincare routine – burning turquoise eyes staring a little too long at who looks back at him.
The worst of his burn scars are gone, though the shadow of them remains. His two-toned flesh has been concealed by pale, raised skin, but he can still see the lines in his face from his first Escharotomy – a reminder of Dabi; always lingering, never fully gone, even if he wears a different face.
The rest of his body is like that as well. No longer is he marred by wicked burn scars and surgical staples; he is one even skin tone now. He is complete by all accounts, even though he feels anything but whole. The skin grafts aren’t perfect – they’re textured and prone to drying out, and the skin around his eyes always looks bloodshot – but for the first time in years, when he looks in the mirror; the person staring back at him actually looks like Touya.
It's not a perfect visual, but it’s still closer than he ever thought possible.
Truth be told, he still has a difficult time looking at himself in the mirror. It’s jarring honestly. He’d gotten so used to seeing the horrific scarring on himself, that seeing his reflection without them makes him feel like he’s staring at someone new.
The skin grafts he received at some point after his barely responsive body was all but dragged off the battle field, still itch sometimes, but he knows it’s all in his head. He can’t feel anything. He hasn’t been able to feel anything since he was discharged from the hospital he been taken to after he collapsed.
His memories of that time are hazy – he had been doped up on heavy narcotics and other nerve blockers as he was subjected to surgery after surgery in a desperate attempt to fix his scorched body – so much so, that he doesn’t know how long he was out for, or how much time passed while he was in recovery.
He remembers Shoto coming to visit him shortly after waking up from the worst of his many surgeries, and explaining that while the doctors had been able to successfully graft new skin onto him, (how his mangled body had been able to withstand another set of skin grafts was beyond him), they hadn’t been able to fix his damaged nerve endings, and had opted to cauterize the few that still worked; leaving him completely numb to any and all feeling.
Truthfully, he hadn’t cared at the time, he hadn’t been able to feel much of anything for years before that, and the little he was still able to feel was nothing but chronic pain, so at the time he has seen the news as a blessing.
And then he met you.
Shortly after that, he found himself cursing the fact that he couldn’t feel anything at all.
-----
He remembers the first time he met you.
After he had been cleared to leave the hospital, he had been taken to a heavily fortified psychiatric ward, eerily similar to the med-bay in Tartarus: all sterile white walls and armed guards. His room hadn’t been much better: just a mid-sized white box with a cot and a small window for him to look out of, though there wasn’t much of a view outside. He had no idea where the fuck he was anyways.
There he had started his rehabilitation.
It was hell. The first few months he spent there, he adamantly refused to speak to any of the doctors or physiatrists who came to work with him. Some were more persistent than others, poking their nose into his past (like he hadn’t just aired his dirty laundry out for all of Japan to witness), and those were the ones he got pissed off at the most.
In another life, Dabi would have had no qualms about turning the doctors to ash, just like he had done to everyone else who had annoyed him in the past, only; he wasn’t Dabi anymore. He wasn’t sure who he was now.
It didn’t help he had been hopped up on quirk blockers that canceled out his quirk, otherwise he probably still would’ve tried to incinerate them. But he couldn’t, and for the first time in his life, Touya Todoroki was fucking cold.
Turns out his quirk did a wonderful job of insulating him against the ice he kept hidden inside his chest all along.
He supposed he couldn’t blame them for rendering him quirkless while at the facility. Hell, he’d render himself quirkless if he was a staff member, having to deal with someone like him. Footage from the fight with his father and the all-out brawl with Shoto had been leaked to the public, showing his quirk’s true power in all of its devastating glory.
He had been told the aftermath of both fights had done irreversible damage to the surrounding areas, and no one was sure if they’d be able to fix the carnage he had created.
Good. The bitter, angry part of himself thought when he had been inadvertently told of the news. Suffer like I am.
He had been kept in isolation most of the time as the doctors tried to figure out what to do with him. His family hadn’t been allowed to visit him yet, and for that he was grateful – he hadn’t been particularly keen on seeing them after his recovery anyways. It was still too soon to face them, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the inevitable aftermath of what was to come. In the meantime, he still refused to respond to any of the medical staff who came to try and work with him, outside of sarcastic remarks and biting jabs that made the whitecoats squirm in their seats, much to his enjoyment.
Curiously, during one of the very few times he did speak to one of the doctors responsible for his treatment; he found himself asking about what happened to the rest of the League. Of course, no one would give him any answers aside from the fact they were alive and they were in custody.
He was more relieved than he thought he would be.
More time passed, and he still refused to open up to any of the staff who came to see him, though he had become more vocal with them – aggressively so – to the point he started to notice there was a continuous rotation of people now; it wasn’t just the same staff he was used to seeing when he first arrived at the facility.
Turns out, even the professionals were still scared of him – quirk or no quirk, his fiery reputation preceded him.
Eventually, the facility couldn’t keep cycling through their therapists, so they had switched tactics. Whether it was out of desperation, or the fact he made so many professionals break down after a session with him, he wasn’t sure, but he can’t say he regrets his actions, because in the end, he met you.
He remembers the day you met for the first time.
He had been forced out of his little cell and taken to one of the treatment rooms where he spent most of his time outside his own room. He had been shoved in there before he could make a snarky retort, and then… he saw you.
You had been sitting on the couch adjacent to the spot where he normally sat during his apptioments. He had been so stunned to see someone new, he’d been rendered silent. You’d looked up towards him, and for the first time since he arrived, you smiled at him.
“Hey.” You’d greeted him casually. He hadn’t responded, still unsure of who you were and what you were doing here instead of the usual staff.
You nodded to the couch across from you. “You wanna sit?”
He sat.
He fully expected you to introduce yourself, but you hadn’t. You’d just leaned back into the couch you were seated on and crossed your legs, giving him a content smile as you regarded him casually.
A few beats of silence passed. You didn’t speak and neither did he. A few minutes passed, then a half hour, and then an hour. Finally, one of the assistants came to bring him back to his room.
He stood up to go but you still didn’t say anything. He’d allowed himself to be taken back without a fuss but, he didn’t think anything more about it. The next day it was the same thing. He was taken out of his room back to the same treatment room, and surprisingly, you were already there waiting for him.
You gave him a little grin and nodded to the couch opposite you, and just like the last day, he sat.
Once again, you didn’t say anything, which was unusual, since all of the other doctors had always started off the conversation, but you sat in silence across from him – the gentle smile never leaving your face all the while.
A half hour of silence passed before he finally broke. “So, what exactly is this?” he remembers his voice sounding dry and scratchy after weeks of misuse. “This the part where you try and butter me so I’ll talk to you?”
You’d grinned at his remark. “No.”
“No? Then what the hell are you doing here? Is this some new technique the therapist’s showed you to try and get me to spill my guts to you? Reverse phycology or some shit?”
“Nope. None of that I can assure you. Actually, if I’m being honest, I’m not even a doctor.”
That caught his attention.
“The hell do you mean you’re not a doctor? How the are you in here then?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”
He remembers being completely caught off guard by your answers, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the slightest bit intrigued by you. He remembers squinting at you carefully – taking you in – and for the first time, he saw you. Really saw you.
He could tell that you weren’t lying to him about not being a doctor. You were dressed casually, though you were still covering up a fair amount of skin – no doubt something they told you to do ahead of time. You looked more alive than the rest of the staff in this place as well.
He was loathed to admit it, but you were pretty.
He remembers you flashing him a knowing grin, clearly able to tell he’s been shamelessly checking you out, and it was enough to make him recede back into his shell; his walls going back up once more, as he rolled his eyes condescendingly at you.
“So what’s your angle then?” He’d asked you. “You’re not a doctor but you wouldn’t be in here with me if you didn’t want something from me.”
“Would you believe me if I told you I was simply here to talk?”
That had gotten a laugh out of him. A short breathless laugh, but it was the first one he’d uttered since he’d tried to incinerate himself along with his father. It felt weird leaving his throat, foreign even, and he’d cut himself off as soon as the sound exited his mouth. So, he settled for snickering instead.
“Really now? You want to talk to someone like me? Why do I not believe that?”
You had sighed, and leaned forward so your forearms were supported on your knees, fixing him with a stern gaze. The intensity of it had made him flinch before he remembered who he was. He returned the look best he could, but it hadn’t deterred you in the slightest. Instead, you sighed again.
“Look I’ll be honest with you: the staff here filled me in on your situation. I don’t know what they’ve told you, but from how it was explained to me; your family wants you back home with them. They’ve made a bunch of deals with the authorities about getting you out of here and not spending the rest of your life behind bars, but you have to successfully go through rehab first. The reason you’re here is so they can determine that you’re not a threat to society or to yourself, but the staff don’t seem to be having much luck getting through to you, and they’re desperate. They sent out a request to bring in outside help and I applied. They picked me because we’re the same age, and well… no one else really wanted to. Turns out most people are pretty scared of you.”
“Fucking figures. And you’re telling me you’re not?”
“Of you? No.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I’m not. I’m a little nervous maybe, but I’m not scared.”
That had made him pause. He’d swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling like it was packed with cotton.
“Why’s that?” he’d finally asked you after a moment.
You had gone quiet, seemingly mulling over his question before you finally responded: “I think you have a lot to say. More than you already have, and more then what people think. To be honest, I want to hear it.”
He had laughed again, but this time it sounded forced, even to him.
“If you watched my broadcast then you know it all already.”
“Oh, trust me, I think the whole world saw your broadcast, not just Japan. No one would shut up about it for weeks. But I think there’s a lot more to you. I think a part of you wants to talk to someone else – none of that scripted bullshit – and I want to talk to you. Honestly, I think you’re pretty fascinating.”
He had been very tempted as ask you if you had a thing for villains, but he held off.
“You must be crazy if you find talking to me enjoyable. The other quacks can’t even stomach me, let alone stand to be in the same room as me for more than a few minutes. Just how fucked up are you really?”
You’d grinned and wiggled your eyebrows mischievously at him as you leaned back and spread your arms out along the back of the couch. “The only way you’re going to find that out is if you agree to talk to me. I don’t just give up all my secrets willingly you know.”
It was his turn to go quiet as he thought about your words over and over in his head, taunting him. He hadn’t been in any rush to leave the facility and go back to his old house, even if his mother and siblings were waiting for him. On the other hand, this was the most enjoyable conversation he’d had with anyone since coming to this white hellhole they called a hospital.
He figured maybe he would entertain you for a little while. If nothing else it would get you off his back.
You were lucky you were attractive.
The sound of your voice calling out his surname brought him back to the present.
“Mr. Todoroki?”
“… Fine.” He had finally relented. “We’ll see who you really are, and for fuck’s sake don’t call me that. I’m not my fucking father.”
“What do you want me to call you then?”
“D—” he stopped short. Was that his name any more? Did he get to call himself that after everything was said and done? It was the name he had given himself when Touya died all those years ago, but for some reason, saying it now just seemed wrong.
“…Touya.” He finally muttered. “Just Touya.”
You had smiled at him and for some stupid reason, it made his heartrate pick up. Just a little.
“Okay then. Touya it is. It’s nice to meet you.” You extended your left hand, and he had clumsily fumbled around for a moment before shaking your hand. As soon as your hands touched, and he felt the gentle pressure of your hand in his own, he was struck with the realization that this was the closest to human he’d felt in God knows how long. The other doctors that would come in and out of his cell treated him like he was some kind of feral animal, but you had extended your hand to him without any shred of fear or disgust.
Once you’d both settled back into your respective couches, he’d shrugged.
“So, what now then?”
“Now we talk I guess.”
“About what?”
“I think that’s up to you. The people who brought me in here didn’t specify what we have to talk about, but I am supposed to tell you that I can’t talk to you about the UA students, politics, current or former hero’s, or the League.”
Fuck. It didn’t seem like he’d be getting any answers out of you regarding his former group either.
“…fine. Ask away, I guess.”
To his surprise, you shook your head. “Can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I’m the one doing all the asking, then we’re only going to talk about things from my perspective, which isn’t the point. The only way this is going to work is if you talk to me first.”
That’d had thrown him through a fucking loop. Ever since he had arrived at the ward, all the doctors had done is talk at him, hoping he’d respond eventually. You may not have been a doctor, but you made for a better conversation then any of them ever did.
“…Well… Where am I supposed to start?” he’d finally asked, feeling like an idiot. To his immense relief, you’d simply shrugged.
Wherever you want. From the beginning maybe? It might be easier that way.”
He remembered swallowing hard. “Alright… from the beginning then.”
He remembers pausing and looking up at you, taking you in. “What the hell is your name anyways?”
You told him with a smile, and that was how it started.
For the next year, you came to see him almost every day.
He was taken to the same room where you were always waiting for him without fail at the same time every day. Even though at that point, he’d rather choke than admit it; he began to look forward to your visits – finding that they gave him a reprieve from his mundane existence at the mental ward.
He knew the doctors were always listening and recording everything you talked about during the hour you were together, but he found he didn’t care as much as you managed to keep the meetings interesting.
True to your word, you wouldn’t talk to him about current political events, or any news related to heroes (he knew better then to ask anyways), but you were open to chatting with him about anything that he wished to talk about, even though conversations were often hard for him to start – but you were kind and patient with him, more so than anyone had ever been to him for the majority of his miserable life.
He found himself growing found of you, the little smiles you give him when he’d sit across from you, bringing a hidden grin to his own lips, though he was quick to push it down, never letting his passive façade drop for more the a few seconds, lest his supervising doctors notice and assume shit, as they tended to do.
You may not have been a licensed doctor, but you helped him more than any of the ones who worked at the medical ward did.
There was a gradual shift in your relationship as time passed. Around the six month mark he could feel it, and he was almost positive you could too.
Your conversations had become more fluid, more casual. You were relaxed as you could be around him, and he found himself opening up more and more to you without being prompted. Most times he liked to keep the conversation light, but every so often, he’d tell you bits and pieces about his childhood – before everything had gone to shit. He never bothered telling you about everything that happened after Sekoto; he didn’t want to tell you about the years he spent on the streets, or his time in All For One’s medical center with the other children turned Nomu’s, and to his immense relief, you never asked him to.
In return for his openness, you rewarded him with tidbits from your own life growing up. You didn’t name anyone specific (he couldn’t fault you on that one), but you’d tell him about your childhood and some of the adventures you’d had when you were young, well into your teen years.
He learned that you were born an only child to your parents, raised in a caring household. All the idealistic, quaint things that he had wished from his own family. He’d told you as much one day, prompting you to laugh softly.
“Not always.” You’d told him quietly. “I had my own pressure on me when I was growing up. My parents and I fought a lot. We rarely saw eye to eye – they didn’t agree with a lot of choices I made when I was younger, but it was okay aside from that.”
“Still sounds like your parents were better than mine.” He’d told you with a bitter smirk. “My dad’s an abusive asshole, and my mom—”
It was then he realized that he struggled for words to properly describe her. Broken images from his fire fight with Endeavor had come back to him, and he remembered his mother’s fierce determination to try and cool him down – to save him – even as the heat was melting her flesh. She had thrown herself into the fray to try and stop him from ending it all without a second thought for her own safety. Up until very recently, he would’ve described his mother as weak and submissive, always bending to his father’s whims, even though he knew she didn’t have much of a choice back then, but now… that description didn’t seem to fit her anymore.
“—she used to be a doormat for dear old dad to walk over when I was a kid… but she’s changed. She’s a lot stronger than I remember her being.”
“I saw bits and pieces of your fight with… him.” You’d admitted quietly then. “I saw the aftermath. Your mom, your siblings… they all ran in to save you.”
He’d fallen quiet at that, not truly knowing what to say, but when he looked up again, you had offered him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry if this oversteps a boundary but… they never forgot about you Touya. Even if it felt like they did, they never stopped thinking about you.”
For once, he remembered being grateful that his tear ducts were permanently sealed shut, because he suddenly found himself in danger of crying. The tell-tale prickling behind his eyes caused his face to scrunch up as he pushed the thought of his mom and siblings down. He had quickly forced his expression to go back to neutral, and prayed that you hadn’t noticed the switch, but if you had, you didn’t comment on it – another thing he liked so much about you.
Instead, you asked him something that caught him off guard.
“Have you seen them? Your family? Since you were placed here?”
“No. Didn’t think they were allowed to come here. Why?”
“I think… maybe you should let them come see you – your mom and siblings I mean. Not you know who. I don’t think you’d be doing yourself any favours.”
“Why?” He remembers pressing you. “Have you seen them?” You’d shook your head.
“No, I’ve never met them, but I think it might help if you sit down with them and actually talk to them one on one. You must be getting so bored just talking to me day in and day out.”
“No!” he remembers saying a little too quickly, causing another one of those knowing smirks to creep up your lips. “I—no, you’re fine. I like talking to you.”
“Do you not want to see them?” you had asked him seriously. “Is it too soon? I understand if you’re not ready. That’s a decision you have to make on your own. No one can make it for you.”
“… I’ll think about it.”
Because in truth: there were things he wanted to say to them, and conversations he wanted to have.
In the end, it was you who finally convinced him to let his family visit. They had been cleared to see him at the faculty a few months prior, but he had always declined a visit from them, not wanting to see them so soon, since the last time they were all together had resulted in him almost melting his mother, Fuyumi and Natsuo.
There had been strict rules set in place for his family’s visitations: only one person could see him at a time so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed. they weren’t allowed to talk about outside events with him, and finally, under no circumstance was Endeavor allowed anywhere near the faculty. He was fine with his mother and siblings coming to see him if they wished, but he didn’t want his father to be anywhere near him.
He wasn’t ready to see him again so soon. Even after his apologies. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to see his father again.
Thankfully the faculty had minimal difficulty honoring his last wish, as it seemed that Enji didn’t want to be around him either – or maybe he was purposefully keeping his distance. Either way, the old bastard wasn’t around him, and he figured it was for the best.
Once again you had been right; seeing his family again had been as cathartic as it had been terrifying.
There had been tears (from his family – he still was unable to cry), and there had been a lot of long, overdue heart-to-heart conversations with them of things that should’ve been said long ago.
It had been hard to sit down and listen to each of his family members without feeling the intense urge to get up and run when the guilt became almost unbearable, but he had forced himself to sit through it all for their sakes (and even his own), and soon he found himself scheduling more visits with his family, as well as seeing you for your daily interactions.
You never prompted him to tell you how his now daily visits with his family went, but he’d told you anyways – not what was discussed, that would stay with him – but he had told you about his favourite visit. Hilariously, it had been with Shoto; something he never thought he’d ever say.
He’d told you about how Shoto had brought him lunch from the outside the day before. It wasn’t anything special; just piping hot udon noodles with vegetables in pork broth. They had sat down in silence and eaten together, sharing a meal for the first time in their lives. Nothing had been discussed, and yet everything had been said.
It had been nice. Comfortable, even.
He remembered telling you with a soft smile on his face, and you had pointed it out, causing him to scoff and wave you off.
“It’s better food then the shit they feed me in this prison. Seriously, that was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”
“Well, once you’re cleared to leave, I’m sure you’ll be able to eat all the udon you want with your brother.” You’d told him as you tucked your feet under you. He’d shrugged, brushing you off, but you were ever observant, and had called him out on it.
“Do you not want to go back to them once you’re able to leave this place?”
It was a simple question in theory, but it wasn’t easy to answer.
He’d shrugged again. “Don’t really know if I can. Not after everything. I won’t go back if he’s there.”
“I don’t think they’d push so hard for you to come back to them if he was.” You reasoned with him gently. “Where would you want to go, if not there?”
You and your questions. Most of the time they were harmless, but sometimes they really made him think. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had an answer for you at that point, and you had quickly switched the conversation topic.
At that point, he’d be lying if he said he was thinking about what he’d do once he was released. Truth be told he hadn’t thought about it much at all. To him, it felt like he’d be in the psychiatric ward for the foreseeable future. He had no real plans for what he’d do once he was out. Maybe he would go back to his old house with his family, or maybe he’d try staking out on his own since that was what he was used to, if he was even allowed to go off on his own. He wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do once he was let out – but he certainly wouldn’t be free, he knew that much.
Maybe he’d try and reconnect with the League – assuming that any of them were even allowed to be released from custody.
It still bothered him on some level that he had no idea about what happened to them after the dust had settled. He had been carted off the battle field before any of them, after his attempt at going nuclear failed, and had been in and out of the hospital and the physiatrist wing ever since.
When he had first arrived, he’d asked the staff about what had happened to the remainder of the League, but they hadn’t told him anything aside from the fact they were alive – but he wasn’t sure how much of that he believed.
The only one he’d really trusted in the whole building was you. He knew you weren’t allowed to talk to him about any villains or heroes, but maybe if he asked you discreetly, you’d be able to tell him something more than what the medical staff had. He didn’t want you to get in trouble, but the curiously was eating away at him.
Finally, one day he risked it, and asked you if you knew anything about the fates of his former teammates.
You had paused after he’d voiced his question, and went quiet for a moment, seemingly debating on what you could say to him. For a moment you looked like you were almost about to tell him that you couldn’t say anything, but the look on his face must have been desperate enough that you cracked.
You had given the cameras in the room an unreadable look before sighing loudly. “I don’t know where they are exactly. I never looked into it, and it isn’t public knowledge anyways.” You told him gently. “What I do know is that they’re alive, and they’re in different treatment centers receiving help. I know they were beaten badly and some of your friends almost died – but as far as I know, they’re doing okay.”
You’d then sat straight back up on your chair and loudly proclaimed, “I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to say that much to him, right? Don’t take it out on him or me once we’re done here.”
It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but at least they were alive, and were in similar situations to him. It made him feel slightly less alone.
When the timer beeped shrilly, signaling that your hour was up, you had stood up to leave just as you always did, but before you could say goodbye to him, he’d quickly lunged forward and grabbed your hand, incasing it with his large cold one.
You’d stared at him in shock, as he’d never made a move to touch you once in the six months, you’d been visiting him, but before any of the guards could rush in and pull him off, he’d let your hand drop, but not before muttering a quiet “thank you” under his breath to you, before backing off and allowing the armed guard to escort you out of the room.
He distinctly remembers feeling the pressure of your small hand in his own, but he hadn’t been able to feel anything else aside from that. He hated it. He suddenly found himself hating that all of the nerves in his body had been severed, rendering him unable to feel anything. He couldn’t feel the texture of your skin against his own, or if your hands were cool or warm like his.
He was forced to admit to himself that for the first time since he’d left the hospital; he wanted to feel something again.
He wanted to feel you. But he couldn’t, and it aggravated him more than anything.
There was another thing he remembered distinctly about that day as you were leaving him behind: For the first time since you had started your daily interactions with him; you had looked back.
You had looked at him like you were seeing him in a different light.
He didn’t see you for a few weeks after that. When he had been pulled from his cell, and into the room where you usually met him, he was instead greeted by several doctors that had overseen his treatment when he first arrived.
He had asked them where you were, and when they refused to answer his question, he had immediately become hostile and threatening. The walls that were slowly starting to lower since he first met you went straight back up, and Touya turned into Dabi once more.
For the first time in roughly seven months, he lashed out (quirk be damned), and was immediately taken back to his room and put on lockdown. He wasn’t allowed visitors, and the only times he was allowed to leave his cell was to go back to the same room with the same doctors who poked and prodded him – asking him increasingly invasive questions, until he shut his mouth and refused to speak to them once more. One last act of defiance on his end since he still didn’t have use of his quirk.
When it had become apparent to the doctors and specialists that he refused to speak to any of them, they stopped taking him out altogether. He spent countless hours staring out the tiny window in his room, basking in the weak sunlight and taking in the menial views he could see from his window.
He had wondered where you had gone; if you had been forcefully sent away after he had asked about the League. He hoped that wasn’t the case – he liked you, probably more then he should if he was honest with himself – and you were just about the only person he could actually carry on a conversation with in this shitty place.
A few more weeks in solitary had him about to snap. He had reached a point where he was about to try and strike a deal with the overseeing doctors about bringing you back if he answered their shitty questions, when one of the armed guards opened up his door and guested for him to follow.
Once again, he had been taken back to the same observation room, but to his pleasant surprise; you were there waiting for him.
You had beamed at him and before he could think about what he was doing, he had crossed the room towards you in three long strides until he was standing directly in front of you. He had begun to lift his hand up towards you, only for his action to halted by a curt bark from the guard who was still standing at the door. You had shaken your head, motioning to the guard you were fine and sent him on his way. As soon as the door had closed, he rounded on you.
“You left.”
You had nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips. “I did, yes. Not really by choice though.”
“Why did you go?”
You’d barked out a laugh. “I’ll be honest, the supervisors weren’t too happy with me when I told you about the League. I broke one of their rules, so they told me I had to go for a bit.”
He’d narrowed his eyes, confused. “But now you’re back.”
You’d given him a slight smirk. You turned to sit down on your usual spot on the couch, but this time, instead of having him sit across from you, you’d gestured for him to sit beside you, which he’d done so embarrassingly fast.
“You’re very stubborn.” You’d told him with a light laugh. “From what I was told, you refused to talk to anyone after I left – heard you got downright nasty with some of the staff, and they put you on probation. They called me a few days ago almost begging me to come back. Guess they felt you made the most progress when you were talking to me.”
You’d given him a look that was hard for him to read. “Why did you snap at them?”
He figured there was no point in lying to you – you’d find out somehow. “Didn’t know where you went. Fuckers wouldn’t tell me, and they kept prying into my shit. Didn’t want to talk to them so they put me in solitary.”
He remembers you looking sad at his answer. “I heard you were in there for several weeks. I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to happen to you. Not on my account. I didn’t… I don’t want to be the reason your release got delayed.”
For some reason, it bothered him that you blamed yourself for what happened, and he reached out to gently take hold of your wrist. To his surprise, you hadn’t stopped him, or made any move to pull your hand away from his, so he allowed himself to rub circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, even though he couldn’t feel it.
“Not your fault. Don’t worry about when I’m getting out. It’s not like it really matters anyways.”
“Do you know why they were pushing you so much?” you’d asked quietly, still not making any more to remove yourself from his hold. He’d shook his head and you’d simply leaned into him, damn near making him freeze up in surprise at your boldness.
“They told me that they’re planning on releasing you soon – with restrictions of course – but they were thinking that you’d be able to leave here sooner than expected. That was before your outburst, but if you’re willing to just hear them out and answer their questions, it’ll help speed up the process.”
“They seriously think that I’m fit to send out into society again?” he remembers scoffing, hardly believing what he was hearing. “Pretty sure the majority of them think I’m an irredeemable sociopath.”
“They’ve seen the way you act around me and your interactions with your family. You’re not perfect, but you’re trying, and sometimes that’s all you can do.”
“You do realize I have killed people, right? I’ve maimed countless others. They’re… not exactly wrong about me.”
Surprisingly, you’d simply rolled your eyes at his statement, acting like he’d just told you the sky was blue. “Of course I know that Touya. I’m not overlooking what you did. But they—your family – are fighting hard to try and get you another chance, a fresh start. They think you deserve it, and they’re out there right now, day and night, trying to convince others that you deserve a second chance too.”
You had twisted your hand in his so your palms were kissing, fingers laced together, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears as you gave him that damn smile of yours.
“You’re right: the past never dies, but that doesn’t mean that it has to be your future as well.”
That simple statement had stunned him. For the first time in a long time, he hadn’t had anything to say in response to you.
He remembers fighting an internal battle in himself, trying to find something to say to rebuttal what you were telling him. A part of him understood why his family was fighting for his uncertain future outside the psychiatric ward, but on the other hand… he didn’t necessarily believe that he deserved it.
What kind of life would he be able to have even if he was allowed to be released? He had never planned on living this long, as morbid as that was. His original goal had been to go out in a fiery hell-blaze with his bastard of a father, but clearly that hadn’t happened. He was known a global terrorist, the right-hand to the symbol of fear. His quirk was legendary for all the wrong reasons. How could he possibly be allowed to live on the outside? There was no way the rest of Japan wanted him released, let alone wandering around. What kind of future could he possibly be allowed to dream about? Did he even dare to think about it? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about what he might do if he was ever allowed out of the ward from time to time, but now that his impending release seemed like more of a possibility; he was starting to think maybe it was better for everyone – and maybe even himself – if he stayed locked away.
Thankfully, you and your perspective nature had picked up his internal struggle. You’d leaned into him and taken his hand in both of your own, allowing him to breathe again.
“What do you want Touya?”
What did he want? Christ he wasn’t sure.
“I… don’t know. Honestly: I never planned on living this long from the get go. Everything has always been decided for me. I kinda figured that this would be the same.” He had admitted quietly, the gentle pressure of your hands on his own, grounding his rapid thoughts.
“Do you think you’re ready to leave soon?” You’d asked him gently, prompting him to laugh, a bitter, ugly thing, but you hadn’t flinched.
“No.” he’d admitted after a moment, scrunching up his nose. “Dunno if there’s much of a point. I’ll never be free. No matter where I go, I’ll always be a prisoner. What kind of life could I even have outside of here? I don’t know how to live any other way aside from how I’ve been living since I escaped that damn—” he’d cut himself off last minute, reminding himself that you didn’t know about All For One’s hellish medical facility he had woken up in, and he had no plans on telling you about that.
“I just…” he remembered breathing out hard through his nose as he tried to collect his thoughts, focusing on the faint heat he swore he could feel emanating off your hands and leaching into his cold skin. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if they decide to let me out. Dunno if I can go back to the old house after everything that happened, and I’m not sure if I could bring myself to live with my mom or my siblings after… well, you saw bits of what happened on TV already.”
He hadn’t needed to say it for you to know that he felt a tremendous amount of guilt towards his mother and siblings – especially Fuyumi and Natsuo – for nearly charring them in the heat of battle. He may have held onto so much resentment and anger towards his family for his mistreatment as a child, but he was also self-aware enough to know that it hadn’t been their faults, and they had tried to help him in the only ways they knew how.
You had been quiet as you let him vent to you. You hadn’t said anything for a while afterwards as you mulled over what he’d told you. Finally, you had nudged his shoulder with your own.
“I think that everything you just told me is proof enough that you deserve a chance to have a life outside of these walls.” You admitted. “What you said isn’t something an ‘irredeemable sociopath’ would say. That’s something a self-aware person says. You’re not perfect Touya, but Christ if you’re not trying. I can see it, your mom, sister and brothers see it, and I think a lot of your other doctors are starting to see it too. I think there’s a point, even if you don’t think there is.”
In that moment he’d been convinced that if he could cry, he would’ve been.
“Yeah? Well, thank you sweetheart.” He’d muttered into your hair, fighting hard with himself to try and keep his voice steady. “I have no fucking idea why you’re so nice to me, but it’s… yeah.”
“I think someone needs to treat you like a normal human being, because I don’t think anyone did for a long time.” You’d looked up at him pointedly, but he’d seen traces of something else in your eyes when you’d asked him, “Did they?”
A simple flat look from him had been answer enough for you, and prompted you to squeeze his hand. “Didn’t think so.”
You’d both lapsed into a comfortable silence aside from the steady ticking of the clock, and he’d known without looking up that your time with him was coming to an end. Now, he was dreading it more then he normally would’ve been. You’d spoken up again, but what came out of your mouth next, had shocked him.
“When you’re released… If you’re still unsure of where you want to go afterwards… I could… if you can clear it with the people overseeing your progress once you’re cleared to leave… Maybe… you could come stay with me.”
He remembered staring down at you, shocked. “Is that even allowed?”
You’d shrugged in response. “I’m not sure. I think you’re going to have to initially stay with your family for a while, but if you’re really having a difficult time staying there… maybe I could work something out with your family, as long as it’s approved. It’ll probably take a while, but I can try.”
He had a difficult time allowing what you were implying to sink in. How? How could you be so trusting? To even suggest the idea of someone like him staying with you? Forget if it was even possible or not, the fact you’d even offered in the first place was mind-blowing. Before he could think about what he was saying, he’d voiced his thoughts to you:
“I’m sure your parents would be thrilled, you bringing a villain back to your home.”
You’d simply given him a small smile. “I’m sure they wouldn’t like it… if they were around that is.”
“Oh. They not in the country, or—”
“We’ll go with that.”
Ah. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one with secrets. That was fair, you were allowed to have your own. He wouldn’t pry.
“Sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know.”
You’d both fallen back into the same silence from before. You were still leaning on him, his hand trapped in your smaller one, yet he’d made no move to remove it from your grasp. Honestly, he was shocked the guards from before hadn’t barged into the room and forced him away from you. The close proximity must have been violating a rule of some kind, and yet no one had made any move to separate the two of you, Maybe the medical staff really had been as desperate as you’d claimed, and were willing to let some things slide. Either way, he wasn’t complaining.
“You’re a lot colder than I thought you’d be… with your quirk being what it is and all.”
He’d glanced down at you, only to see you staring down at your intertwined hands. You’d squeezed the appendage again, prompting him to respond.
“It’s the quirk suppressors. Haven’t been able to use my quirk since before I got here. The quacks made it so I’m hopped up on suppressors around the clock, just in case. Turns out I’m pretty fucking cold without my flames. Must be from the ice side, but I can’t use that either.”
“Well, maybe if you keep being nice, you won’t have to be on them indefinitely.” You had tried to give him a hopeful smile, but he knew what the likelihood of that happening was, and you must have too, since you didn’t say anything else on the matter.
The timer had sounded then, signaling the visit was over. Before the guard could come to collect you, he’d quickly pulled his arm out of your grasp, and had wrapped it around you tightly, much to your initial surprise. He’d begrudgingly let you go so he could help you stand, sending the guard at the door a pointed look as he’d seen him casting an unsure look between himself and you. You hadn’t been the least bit bothered by the anxious glances the guard was trying to send you as you stood slowly and sent him one of your little smiles he’d come to expect from you.
“You’re coming back?” he’d blurted out before he could stop himself.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time.” You’d told him confidently as you’d turned to leave, brushing your knuckles against his. “Don’t worry Touya. I’m not going anywhere.”
For the first time since someone had promised him anything in a very long time, he’d believed you.
In the end, you’d kept your promise.
It had taken close to another year before he was allowed to leave the psychiatric facility (some minor setbacks had pushed his initial release date back), but you had come to see him almost every day at the same time.
Over that time, you’d grown exceptionally close to each other, even more so from when you’d first started visiting him initially. It was almost impossible for him not to grow attached to you – you were his constant source of company, his companion. You were the one person he could tell anything to and not have to worry about being scrutinized for his thoughts. You were his safe space – something he’d never thought he’d ever say about someone else – and once he’d worked out how he saw you; it had been game over. He’d fallen for you fast and hard before he’d realized it, and by the time he did, it’d had been too late. He was hopelessly and utterly drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.
Surprisingly, you’d felt the same as him.
You’d openly admitted it to him one day near the end of his stay at the ward – even at the cost of possibly being prevented from seeing him again, since both of you knew you were crossing boundaries you hadn’t been meant to cross. He’d warned you as such, heart pounding in his ears at your confession, but you’d told him that he’d deserved to know with a simple shrug.
“Besides; if you keep up the good behavior and don’t have any more outbursts, you’ll be out before the end of the year anyways. Even if they don’t let me back after this – you can find me on the outside.” You’d told him matter-of-factly, boldly taking his hand in your own, before sending a shit-eating grin to the cameras set up around the room – knowing the doctors were monitoring every move.
He'd been certain that he could’ve kissed you right there and then.
Surprisingly, the medical staff had allowed you to continue coming back, even though it was apparent both of you cared for each other in ways that crossed professional boundaries. As much as the doctors were against how close the two of you had become, they couldn’t deny how far he had progressed since meeting you. He had gone from being the bitter, angry husk of a man, to someone who was still, and would always be forever scorned by the past, but overall, in a better place mentally.
Not too long after he’d sorted out his own feelings for you, he’d made you a surprising request:
He wanted you to meet his mother and siblings.
The meet up had taken almost a month of careful planning on the medical staff’s end, and had initially been met with some hesitation on both sides, but eventually you had agreed to it, and you’d sat down with him and the members of his family who he kept in contact with.
His father hadn’t been invited for obvious reasons.
The medical staff had allowed him out of his normal room so he could meet with you and his mother and siblings in one of the spacious sitting rooms normally reserved for guests. A row of floor to ceiling windows lined the far wall, allowing him to get a view of the outside gardens. He remembered the outside weather was slightly overcast that day but warm rays of sunshine would occasionally stream through the gray clouds, as you and his family slowly met with one another under his watchful gaze.
His mother had taken to you almost immediately, as well as Natsuo – both seemingly happy he’d bonded with someone who was relatively normal – Fuyumi and Shoto had taken a little more convincing. Shoto was more curious of you, while Fuyumi had been downright distrustful. She’d asked you right off the bat what your intensions were with him, but he’d seen right through her: she was concerned that you were somehow affiliated with the now disbanded League, or maybe even the Paranormal Liberation Front.
Thankfully, you weren’t so easily put off by her upfront questioning. You had been calm, almost amused, as you answered her questions; reassuring her that you were in no way affiliated with any criminal organizations, and how you were someone who’d been presented with an opportunity to help with his rehabilitation, and had taken a leap of faith when no one else would.
“Why though?” he remembered his sister pressing you. “Why would you want to help him even after knowing everything he’s done?”
You and him had shared a look then, and he’d known what you were thinking before you said anything.
“I guess I wanted to understand why things went so wrong.” You’d told her honestly, your shoulder brushing with his as you spoke. “I wanted to get his side of the story – the unscripted one. When the chance to talk to him in person came up, I took it. Everyone deserves to have their story told, and I wanted to hear his.”
“You’re a lot closer than just a support person to him.” Fuyumi had countered, making him bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping at her to back off with her invasive questioning, knowing that he’d only land himself in trouble with the medical staff overseeing their visit if he had any outbursts.
To your credit, you’d simply shrugged, totally unbothered by her statement. “Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you see someone basically every day for over a year. Same time, same place. For as clueless as he is at normal relationships, your brother can be pretty charming when he wants to be.”
He’d been pretty sure the only reason you were outright lying to his sister was to try and make him look better in her eyes, but he almost hadn’t been able to stop the laugh that threatened to escape past his lips. Almost.
His sister had almost deflated then. Whether it was from disappointment in being unable to shake you, or relief, she’d simply nodded; finally accepting your answers.
“Well… if he’s happy… then that’s all any of us really need, I guess.”
The rest of the visitation had gone incredibly well, not that he was complaining. Plans for future meetings had been put in place, and from there, you and him had gotten into a semi-regular routine of seeing his mother and siblings, or whoever was available to come.
He never wanted to admit it to you, but the visitations you helped arrange with his family made his transition from the psychiatric hospital to his eventually moving into his mother’s new house after he’d been cleared for release, far smoother than he thought it would’ve been.
Eventually though, he was proven right about his earlier assumptions on living with his family – or rather – his mother and his siblings, again after so long:
He couldn’t do it. It felt almost wrong.
He’d felt like a ghost, wandering up and down the halls, looking at the pictures that lined the hallways of his mother’s house; comprised largely of his younger siblings. He’d watched as they had slowly grown up in each one, filling him with sense of melancholy.
He’d missed the opportunity to watch them grow up. They’d done that without him. That was time he couldn’t get back – memories that weren’t there.
He’d felt isolated, and no amount of comfort or reassurance from his mother could change that deep-rooted feeling in him. Not even Natsuo’s constant presence in the home made him feel better, much to his younger brother’s disappointment, though thankfully he understood.
He’d lasted two months before he’d finally cracked and called your number which you’d given him immediately after he was released. You’d both stayed in contact, texting every day (under strict monetization from police tech sectors), but you hadn’t been able to see him in person since he’d gotten out, as you’d both agreed that it would be better if he focused on trying to settle into his new home. He’d missed you terribly during that period – not used to not seeing you for such a long period of time.
He'd called you in the dead of night, and asked if your offer to have him come stay with you was still open. From there, you’d gotten in contact with the authorities in charge of his release to try and gain permission for him to come live with you, while he had the difficult task of trying to explain to his family why he couldn’t stay with them any longer than he’d already had.
As expected, you’d been met with resistance on both sides, but eventually his overseers had come to an agreement: he would be allowed to live with you, but he always had to have a tracking monitor on at all times, he had to be on constant quirk suppressors, he couldn’t leave your building without you and a Pro hero escort of some kind, and finally, he had to attend mandatory therapy sessions at least once a week, as well as call his probation officer weekly and give them updates about what he was doing. If he failed to meet any of the rules set out for him; he’d earn himself a one-way ticket to Tartarus, no questions asked.
As much as he’d wanted to argue some of what they wanted from him, he’d agreed to their stipulations, knowing full-well unless he agreed to their terms, he’d be stuck at his mother’s for the rest of his life, and while he didn’t hate living with her and his siblings, it was too awkward for him to try and face them every day, knowing his past atrocities towards the rest of the country and even them, would continue to haunt him for the rest of his days.
He couldn’t pretend that he was still the same person he was when he’d burned up at the tender age of thirteen. He was different, older, harder. Things would never be able to go back to what they’d once been, and honestly: he didn’t want them to. He couldn’t go back to living with them after such a long time apart, because he had no idea how to co-exist with them normally.
Thankfully, as much as he knew it hurt his mother to hear him express his innermost thoughts, she seemed to understand how he felt the most, and had simply told him that he was always welcome in her home, and she still wanted him to come stay with her from time to time.
“You’re my son Touya. No matter how old you get or no matter what you do, you’ll always be my baby.” She’d told him gently just before he’d left her house, wrapping him into a tight hug.
Sometimes he found himself grateful he couldn’t cry anymore. He’d just wished this side of his mother had been more prominent over ten years ago. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently if it had.
He’d seen you then for the first time in several months when you’d come to pick him up. He’d managed to keep himself calm while you spoke to his mother, but secretly he was elated to see you again after months apart. His excitement over seeing you again had probably shown on his face, since you’d made it a point to keep yourself close to him as his brothers had moved his important possessions into your car.
It was as you were talking to his mother; he’d learned that you had moved to a new apartment building some weeks ago, following the news that one of Japan’s former most wanted was coming to stay with you. Naturally, the people in your old building hadn’t been pleased, so you’d forced to switch buildings to an apartment located near several hero agencies, where the residents hadn’t been as concerned about an ex-super villain moving in, due to the multitude of patrolling heroes in the area. The change had been frustrating for you, but it was the only way he’d be able to stay with you without anyone kicking up too much of a fuss.
Eventually you’d both been on your way back to your apartment with Shoto in tow to help with moving his things into your apartment. Your new place wasn’t massive, but it had two bedrooms and a decently sized living room and kitchen. Shoto had helped him set his things up in the spare bedroom before departing, but not before giving you his number with instructions to call him if you ever needed help.
As soon as the door had shut, he’d been on you.
He’d slammed you up against the door, causing a started yelp to escape your lips, as he grinned down at you wolfishly.
“What’s the matter sweetheart? Nervous? It’s not like we haven’t been this close before.”
You’d turned beet red as you shyly traced your fingers up his chest. “No, but we certainly haven’t done this.”
He’d grinned as he dipped his head down so you and him were eye to eye. “Tell me no then. Tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t feel the same as me.”
He’d listened to your breath hitch, watching with delight as the flush deepened on your cheeks. “You wanted me to talk right? To be open with you about how I’m feeling? Well, I want you, and I think you want me too.”
You’d looked up at him through your lashes, reaching up to lace your hand around his neck. “I do.” You’d told him gently, and your simple admission had made up his mind.
“Fuck.” He’d muttered, just before he’d dipped down and captured your lips with his.
The effect had been instantiations. His lips molded with yours, breathing in your air, as his hand cupped your cheek, long fingers curling around the back of your neck to keep you close to him.
You’d slowly peeled yourself off the door and grabbed at the collar of his shirt, pulling him with you further into the apartment, and into your bedroom. You’d managed to slam your door shut, just before he’d pushed you onto your bed – his lips never leaving yours as he pressed you further into the mattress.
He couldn’t keep his hands off you as you helped him take your clothes off. He could touch you, really touch you the way he’d wanted to for so long now. Nothing was there to hold him back, no cameras, no guards, no medical staff dictating his every move. It was just you and him.
He’d almost froze when he’d seen you’d laid out bare beneath him, soft and glowing against the pale sunshine streaming in from your bedroom window, warming your frame. You’d beamed up at him, tracing your hands up his arms.
“You can touch me.” You’d told him gently. “I trust you. Just be gentle.”
Gentle. Now that was a word he was certain he didn’t have in his vocabulary – but for you, he’d try.
He’d traced your curves gently, listening intently as your breath hitched, or how a small moan would escape past your lips when he touched a particularly sensitive area. Finally, you’d reached up to tug at the hem of his shirt, but he’d grabbed at your hands, making you pause.
“It’s not… I’m not… the scars… aren’t much better under there.” He’d tried to warn you. You’d given him a gentle smile, cupping his cheeks with your hands.
“I don’t mind Touya. You know I don’t care about all that.” You’d smoothed your thumbs over the raised skin of his face. “I love you for you. Regardless of what you look like.”
Love. You… you loved him, didn’t you? Even after everything he’d done while he was an active criminal – you’d somehow grown to love him, while most of the world hated him.
He didn’t necessarily think he was deserving of your love, but hell if he was ever going to point that out to you. He’d almost been tempted to ask you if you were a little bit crazy yourself, but you’d even told him when you had first met that he’d have to find that out for himself.
Maybe you were – just a little bit – but that suited him fine.
A normal girl would never have been able to handle him anyways.
He’d allowed you to help him out of his clothes then, and to your credit, you hadn’t batted an eye at the less than perfect skin covering his body. He may not have been held together by surgical staples anymore, and his body may not have been a mess of burnt patchwork skin like it used to be, but the new skin grafts were raised and patchy – never fully settling properly. It wasn’t often that he got self-conscience about how he looked, but you were different.
You had run your hands up and down the length of his body and marveled him like he was some work of art. He didn’t think he was, but you clearly saw him differently. You’d kissed his marred skin, and if he’d been able to cry, he would have.
You had pulled him down onto your bed and climbed on top of him, much to his surprise. He’d tried to prop himself up, only for you to gently push him back down onto your mattress, giving him a knowing smile all the while.
“Let me take care of you.” You’d whispered to him softly. “We’ll go slow. Gentle. It’s just me and you now.”
It wasn’t like he’d never fucked someone before, but it had been a while, and it was just that: he’d fucked, never loved. He wasn’t sure if he knew any other way when it came to sex, but he knew that he didn’t want to be rough with you like he’d been with his past flings, and so he had relinquished control to you.
He had allowed himself to relax into the mattress as you’d hovered above him, lining him up with your entrance. He was already painfully hard, his body reacting to yours as soon as he’d kissed you. You’d bent down to kiss his throat, relishing how he’d let out a shuddering breath as you’d sunk down onto him. He’d cursed as your tight heat had enveloped him, leaving him boneless and shaking.
He’d brought your face down to his to kiss you as you started moving, moaning as you slowly moved up and down on his shaft. You’d knocked the breath out of his lungs as you whimpered against his lips, still moving your hips against his own.
“Shit.” He’d growled as he’d reached up to wrap an arm around your hips. “Fuck baby. You feel so good. You’re so good for me.”
“You feel so good.” You’d sobbed. “I want you – want to make you feel good.”
“You do. Fuck you do. I want you. I need you.” He’d grunted as he planted his feet into your bed, pistoning his hips up into your body.
“Fuck.” You’d cried out, as you continued to bounce on his cock. “Touya!”
“I’m here. Fuck I’m here, with you. I love you.”
He’d remembered your eyes blowing wide at his confession, just before your body had stiffened up, and your mouth had opened up into a silent scream, as your orgasm had ripped through you – your end triggering his own.
You’d both stayed there for a moment, trying to regain your breath, before you’d slowly separated yourself from him. He hadn’t let you go far – pulling you down to lay beside him, and wrapping himself around you as you nestled into the broad expanse of his chest.
“Stay.” He had rasped as he held you close to him, curling around your smaller frame protectively. He’d known what he was saying was nonsensical – he was in your apartment, you weren’t going anywhere, not really – but thankfully, you seemed to understand what he was trying to say without him outright telling you. “Don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere Touya.” You’d breathed, placing a kiss on the side of his temple. “You’re home now. With me.”
That simple sentence had brought him more comfort than he’d experienced in recent memory. He’d passed out sometime after with you still nude and curled into him, sharing in his warmth.
That had been the best sleep he’d had in years.
After that, he’d fallen into a steady routine of normalcy with you. You’d go to work, while he’d keep himself entertained during the day. Normally, he’d open up the windows in your living room and perch himself on the couch near them, soaking up the feeling of gentle sunbeams on his face, and watching the outside world go by as he waited for you to return later in the evening. You had set up therapy appointments for him every Thursday, and either you or Shoto would take him depending on your schedules. Life settled down, and the outside world continued on around him, even though his world now consisted of your apartment and what he could see outside from your windows.
It wasn’t a coincidence that three pro heroes moved into the building roughly a month after he had moved the last of his menial things into your apartment.
He couldn’t say that he was surprised by the less then subtle way the newly reformed hero commission chose to keep an annoyingly close watch on him, but he was still allowed some freedoms with you, so he figured he could keep his jabs to himself for the time being.
All and all, life with you was simple easy. For the first time in his life, he could say he was appreciating the little things he never could’ve before his life had turned into a living hell.
For the first time in a very long time, he had hope – something he’d never allowed himself to have before, because what had been the point? He had fully planned on taking himself out in the final fight against Endeavor… but life was strange, and it turned out that it had different plans for him.
While he couldn’t be sure what those plans were yet, they had brought you to him, and that was enough.
He had you, and in the end, that’s all that really mattered—
-----
The sound of one of his skin care products hitting the floor snaps him out of his reprieve. He blinks, and once again, he is standing in your bathroom with the sink running, halfway through the skin maintenance routine that you forced on him once he came to live with you.
He swears under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the plastic tube with his right arm, only to freeze as he suddenly remembers:
His right arm is gone. He tore it clean off in the brawl against his dad.
He finds it surprising how often he forgets he doesn’t have both his hands anymore. Half the time he swears that his right arm is still intact because he can feel the damn thing, only to look down and see it’s still gone from mid bicep down. You once called it a ‘phantom limb’ and he thinks you might be onto something with how often he’ll go to do something with his right, only to remind himself the arm doesn’t exist anymore.
It doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Natsuo had offered to set him up an appointment to get him fitted for a prosthetic, but he hadn’t made up his mind on it yet – finding most things pretty manageable even with the lack of his right arm – but he does have days where he wishes he had all of his limbs, and there are certain tasks were having two hands would be more useful than one.
His extensive skin care routine is one of those tasks.
Hilariously, it was one of the conditions of him coming to stay with you initially: for the first time in his life, he was being forced to look after himself.
He had protested initially when you had come back home one day with a plethora of different specialty products for sensitive skin – not seeing the point – but you had insisted that he use them to take care of the newer skin grafts, telling him that if he wanted to continue to stay with you, he’d have to start properly taking care of himself, or you would do it for him.
He had begrudgingly accepted, and he gradually incorporated it into his daily routine. Realistically, he knew he didn’t have much to complain about: he didn’t have many responsibilities as it was, and you had promised him if he kept up with it, you wouldn’t tell his parole officer that you weren’t forcing him take his quirk suppressor medication – one of the conditions of his release.
He grins inwardly to himself as he turns the sink off and pats his face dry. You hadn’t seen the need to enforce that particular rule, seeing how you were quite confident he wasn’t going to burn down your apartment building, and he didn’t have any plans to – lest he be forced to return back to his mother’s home.
Besides, after spending over a year feeling unnaturally cold without his quirk, he was in no rush to return to the weak, powerless state the psychiatric ward had left him in. Even if he couldn’t use his quirk to it’s full, destructive potential like he used to, just knowing that he still had use of his quirk intact was a comfort to him.
He makes his way out of the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him and, pads over to his side of your shared closet, stripping out of his sleep clothes and pulling on a loose shirt and baggy sweats, before heading out into the small living room.
If his younger self could see how he lives now, he’s sure he would’ve turned his nose up in disgust before calling him a sell-out, and a gnarled part of him still thinks that to some level, however; when he thinks back to how he used to live on the streets for close to a decade, he’ll take the easy, comfy life-style you allow him to live in your home in a heart-beat.
He used to wonder about where he would get his next meal – now his biggest inconvenience is that he’s bored whenever you’re not at home. How the times change.
He turns on the T.V. and sets it to a low volume as he moves into the kitchen and opens the fridge, pulling out a few miscellaneous items and setting them on the counter, before getting to work on prepping the food.
He doesn’t eat much, even now his metabolism is still messed up from the years of cumulative damage his body sustained, but he found himself making food for you when he first moved into your apartment as a way to keep himself occupied while you were at work. Most of his cooking attempts consist of cup noodles, and whatever else was easy to make, but every once in a while, he’d put a bit more effort into what he made, so long as you had the ingredients for it.
He curses to himself as he painstakingly prepares an easy meal of miso soup and yaki, his lack of a right arm slowing down his progress. Eventually he finishes his meal prep and puts his creation away as he waits for you to come home, moving to his usual spot by the window on your living room couch, before sitting down and indulging in some mindless reality T.V. show.
He watches the show absentmindedly, barely paying attention to what’s playing on the screen as he basks in the warm sunlight streaming in from outside. He glances over to his left to see his reflection staring back at him from a hanging mirror across the room, and has to fight the urge to flinch at what’s staring back at him.
Even after all of the love and tenderness you allowed him to experience while living with you, he still looked rough, and there were days where he felt it more than others. He may not have been able to feel pain in the normal sense, but his body aches constantly and there are additional issues he deals with daily.
He’s painfully aware that he probably doesn’t have a lot of time on the earth. He’s in his late twenties, too damn early to be faced with his own mortality, but he knows there’s no use in trying to dance around the subject. With his body being what it is, he’d be surprised if he made it to fifty, but he knows better than to voice that out loud. The one-time he had confessed his inner thoughts to you, you had damn near burst into tears, and he found that he couldn’t stand to see you like that, so he keeps his morbid thoughts to himself.
The sound of the apartment door opening snaps him out of his depressing reprieve. He looks up, only to see you closing the door to the apartment, hanging your keys up and kicking your shoes off. He gets up off the couch and pads over to you, greeting you with a little smile.
“You’re home early.”
You turn around to face him, smiling. “Yeah, I finished early today. Figured I’d come back and see what you were up to.”
He snorts as he takes your bag from you, setting it down on the small bench you had set up near your front door. “Not much, you know that. S’not like I can leave the building without you or Shoto escorting me.”
You roll your eyes, gracing him with a teasing smile. “How is he anyways? You talked to your family at all recently?”
He shrugs. “Not really. You know my phone usage is heavily monitored anyways.”
“I told them that – your mom reached out to me recently – she was hoping to meet up with you for lunch soon, and she hadn’t heard from you in a bit.”
“Ah. I don’t look at my phone very often. Tell her that I’m down. I’ll reach out at some point.” He nods towards the kitchen. “I made dinner.”
You beam at him. “You didn’t have to do that.” You lean in to press a kiss to the rough skin of his cheek, and he feels his heart speed up in his chest. Even though the physical affection you gave him isn’t anything new, it’s still amazing how much of an effect you had on him.
The fire that he keeps buried in his chest flares to life as you turned away from him briefly, but he doesn’t let you go far. He snakes an arm around your middle, pulling you back to him, causing you to look up at him.
“I’ve missed you.” He mumbles quietly into your hair. You simply wrap your arms around his torso and snuggle into his chest.
“Missed you too.” You tell him quietly. He swallowed thickly, as he allowed his hand to splay further down your back.
“I really missed you; I mean.”
You smile up at him gently, wiggling your eyebrows. “Did you now?”
“Mmmm.”
His hummed response causes your grin to grow wider. “Wanna show me?”
He doesn’t humor you with a response – instead opting to take you by the hand and lead you towards your shared bedroom with teasing grin of his own. He allows you to kick the door closed behind you, before dipping down to bite on the skin of your neck, causing a giggle to escape your lips as his hands wander up and down your frame.
“Off.” He grunts, tugging on your clothes. You smirk at his demand, pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get him to look at you.
“I think you could ask me a bit nicer, right?”
He rolls his eyes at you. “Please.”
“That’s better.” You smile sweetly at him, separating yourself from him long enough to shimmy out of your pants and strip out of your shirt, leaving you in your bra and panties before him.
He kisses the back of his teeth as he closes the distance between you, wrapping a muscular arm around you as he captures your lips with his rough ones. He feels you sigh into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck.
It wasn’t often that he initiated physical contact like this – he not shy by any means, but he’s not used to having such close relations with another person. He’d been a loner for such a long time after escaping the hospital, and any physical contact he somehow managed to receive from woman he’d met in sketchy bars during those miserable years had never been meaningful or fulfilling. He wasn’t used to being wanted.
But you wanted him, and you weren’t shy about letting him know just that.
He had no problems letting you remind him of the latter.
He feels your hands travel down from around his neck to the bottom of his shirt, tugging on it. “Off please.” You murmur against his lips, and he separates from you long enough to yank his shirt off, before coming back to embrace your soft body with his own hot one.
He presses you back against the bed, gently pushing you down to lay on the mattress as he hovered above you. He dips back down to seal his lips with yours, as he feels your fingertips trail down the rough skin of his stomach until they reached the waistband of his sweats. He smirks as he feels you undo the drawstrings and push them down his slender hips, pushing them down low enough for his cock to spring free.
“Seems like you’re just as eager as me.” He sniggers as he sits up long enough to shuck them off, giving you a moment to unhook your bra and toss it across the room.
You don’t humor him with a response as you sit up to stroke his cock, causing him to hiss as your fingers wrap around his shaft. He lets you have your way for a moment before gently pushing you back down onto the mattress, causing you to look up at him quizzically as he shakes his head.
“Not today babe, let me do the work.”
He feels his heart pound in his ribcage, as a look of realization passes over your pretty features. A smile pulls at your lips as you open your arms and beckons him down to you, which he eagerly accepts. He nips and kisses the skin of your neck as he makes quick work of your panties, causing you to moan softly as he runs his fingers up the length of your dripping slit.
“God.” He groans as he attacks your lips again. “So, fucking wet for me. You want me, right?”
“Yes Touya.” You breathe against his lips, allowing your fingers to trace patterns into the scarred expanse of his back. “Always. Always you.”
He feels his destroyed tear ducts sting slightly at the sincerity of your confession. Even though you’ve assured him you only want him countless times before, it was something he never quite got used to hearing.
The entirety of his life before you was spent in fire and hardship. Kindness was something foreign to him, and being allowed to be vulnerable with another person was something he never even considered. He never thought he’d live long enough to be able to do so regardless – accepting that he destined to spend what was left of his life alone – and so the thought had never crossed his mind.
But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Not since you had unexpectedly come into his life.
He had you. Body, mind and soul, he belonged to you. He knew there was no way he would ever have the words to tell you that, so he hoped that he could convey his message clearly enough by showing you just how much you meant to him.
He taps your leg, getting you to wrap your legs around his lean waist, as he lines himself up with your opening. You thread your fingers through his soft white spikes as he slowly begins to push himself into your pussy, causing you to whimper as he begins to stretch your walls out.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He growls as he bullies his way into your tight heat. “You’re perfect for me. Just you – you’re the only one I want.”
“Me too.” You gasp as you dig your nails into his shoulder to ground yourself. “I’m so glad I got to meet you. S-so glad you’re here with me—”
Your eyes open impossibly, as he suddenly snaps his hips forward and drives himself home deep inside your walls, causing you both to moan. He barely gives you any time to recover before he starts moving. He fists his hand in the sheets beside your head as he focuses his energy into keeping his thrusts deep and strong, just how he knows you like it.
He grins down at you almost sadistically, watching as your eyes roll back from the force of his thrusts. “S’matter? Don’t tell me you’re giving up already?”
“N-no.” you moan as he gives you a particularly hard thrust. “I just—oh, fuck!” you wail as you feel him hit a practically sensitive spot inside you, causing him to grin wickedly.
“Eyes on me gorgeous.”
“You’re mean.” You huff, but center your attention on him regardless, causing him to chuckle, and reward you with another harsh thrust.
“I know.” He practically purrs as he shifts his weight to his knees. He grabs the meat of your hip, and starts pounding you harder than before, making you keen and fist your hands into the sheets as his pelvis brushes up against your clit deliciously.
“Fuck, Touya! I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, warning him of your impending release, but it only makes him double down and fuck you harder, determined to see you climax before him.
“Yeah? Well, go ahead sweetheart: come on this cock. C’mon, c’mon; I know you’re going to, I can feel you squeezing me just right, so do it. Let go for me pretty girl, just let go.”
He feels your walls convulse around him and your back arches slightly off the bed as you climax with a desperate cry at his words. The sight of you coming undone beneath him is so hot it does him in a few strokes later, spilling deep inside your walls with a feral growl of his own.
You both stay like that for a few minutes, fighting to catch your breaths, before you unlock your legs from around his waist, allowing him to pull out of you. He pulls back to grin at the combination of your fluids that leak out from in between your legs, and you roll your eyes. He makes a move to the bathroom to grab you a towel, only for you to shake your head.
“Later.” You murmur, as you pat the spot on the bed next to you. “Come lie with me for a few minutes.”
He laughs quietly at your antics, but obliges your request, and climbs over you to collapse into the vacant space on the bed next to you, and you don’t hesitate to move over to him.
“God, you can be relentless sometimes.” You pant as you curl up into his side. He simply snorts at your assessment as he drapes his arm around you protectively.
“Maybe. I am a villain after all sweetheart.”
“You were.” You manage to grumble as you make yourself comfortable, eventually settling on resting your head on his chest so you can hear his heartbeat. “You’re not now.”
“Yeah, well. Attitude never changed. Surprised you put up with me for as long as you did.”
“You weren’t so bad.” You murmur softly, tracing shapes into the rough skin of his stomach. “If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have come back after we first met.”
“Why did you come back after the first time anyways? I can’t remember if you ever told me.” He suddenly raises his head so he’s looking at you. You meet his blazing turquoise irises with a calm gaze of your own and wink at him teasingly.
“I’m crazy remember?”
“Must be, if you came to see one of Japan’s most wanted almost every day for damn near two years straight. But seriously, why?”
You’re quiet for a moment before you answer him. When you do, you shift your head slightly on his chest so you can see his face better.
“I suppose it’s because all your rage… all your anger towards the injustice of everything you’d gone through up until that point… it reminded me of myself, in a way.” You admit softly, causing him to quirk a snowy brow at your confession.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things you said on your initial broadcast—" you continue on before he can ask. “—like how there were a lot of shitty things about hero society you weren’t wrong about. Honestly, for a long time there, I felt just as pissed off with some of those so-called “Pro’s” as you. Some of them were only doing it for the money and fame, you could tell.” You exhale through your nose.
“But, on the other hand, there were so many good things happening to change those problems that you didn’t see because you were on the outsider.” You fall silent for a moment before adding:
“You just seemed so hurt, so raw with everything you were saying. I told myself there and then, if I ever got the opportunity to meet you, I’d show you not everything is as bad as it seemed. Never thought I’d get the chance honestly, and yet, one day, the opportunity to meet you face to face practically dropped into my lap. How could I not take the offer?”
“Was I what you’d thought I’d be?” he finds himself asking you, not completely sure if he wants to know the answer. You simply send him one of your glowing smiles that sends tingles down to his stomach.
“No, you were better.”
He snorts, shifting his arm so he’s tracing his warm fingertips up and down your nude body. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I’m serious. Even now, you’re doing so much better with handling everything then I thought you would. You’re resilient, and you adapt when you need to, but you’ve definitely changed… in a good way. You’re not as hateful anymore… you’re calmer, more accepting.”
“Yeah well, the shrinks have you to thank for that. Far as I’m concerned, they don’t do anything. I just see them so I can stay with you.” He grumbles, prompting you to giggle, before shifting you so you’re lying on your sides, facing each other.
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, inwardly softening as he watches you lean into his warm touch, before dropping his hand back down in between your bodies.
“I know I’m not very good at these sorts of things, but… you know I love you, right?”
He’s hopeful that you understand. He doesn’t say it often to you, and he knows he probably should, but even after all the time he’s spent with you, that involves you showing him what a healthy relationship looks like, it’s still not an easy thing for him to say. Hell, he has a hard enough time saying it to his own mother, let alone anyone else.
He’ll probably always have a difficult time admitting it. Love is an emotion he’s never had a good understanding of, seeing how it was so sked for him a s a child. Even now, the concept is a foreign one for him to understand, but thankfully, you seem to be more aware of this than anyone else.
You find his hand with one of your own and lace your fingers together, squeezing it tightly.
“I know Touya. I’ve always known.”
FIN
#dabi#touya todoroki#dabi x reader#dabi x you#dabi x y/n#touya x reader#touya x y/n#touya x you#post war!au#mha x reader#bnha x reader#dabi x reader smut#touya todoroki x reader smut#tw: mental health#see a03 for more detailed tags
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I feel like big brother dabi frequently checks little sister reader out from her preschool so that they can do stupid shit together and he can one up his siblings on who spends the most time with her
He does! And it's not him "checking her out" as much as it is "luring her out" or borderline kidnapping her, but he's done it so many times now that Enji officially gave your school the green light to let the "brooding, scary villain" take you.
The bigger the age gap between you two, the more softer he is towards you. Like in this scenario, Dabi is like 20 something, while reader is barely 5.
As soon as Dabi picks you from school, he's taking your pink bag and hanging it on his shoulder while letting your small hand hold his two fingers as you both walk, all while humming when you tell him about your day and how you learned what a "verb" is.
He'll take you to a convenience store first, to get you something to eat. And sure, mama Rei always makes the yummiest meals with the best organic ingredients and papa Enji always take you to Michelin starred restaurants and gourmet ice cream parlours, they still can't beat the addicting taste of cheap convenience store junk food, which is all Dabi can afford at the moment. And the best thing is, he doesn't say no. You want two ice creams? Fuck yeah, he'll get 4! That's just a fantastic idea and he won't say no to it.
Then later he'll tae you to a park, where you'll be playing more by yourself than have him play with you. However, you can't play with other kids either without his permission. If you see kids your age at the play ground, you'll have to come to Dabi and ask if you can play with them. Sometimes he'll say yes, mostly he says no. That's when you have to huff and guilt trip him with your small voice and complain how no one ever plays with you (because everyone is busy) and now Dabi is sitting in the sandbox at your pretend restaurant while you serve him a sand cake. (On the inside, he's crying because his inner child wants to give you all the love and affection and everything he never got)
After playing, you're tired and looking like a complete mess, so while you sit im Dabi's lap taking huge gulps from your water bottle, he's combing your hair with his hands and tying it into pretty braids with cute bows (that he absolutely does mot carry around with him and no, those are not your pink hair ties on his wrist. That's fashion), all while he's narrowing his eyes at you as you're inhaling your water.
"Hey, slow down, brat. You'll choke and I won't save you."
If he has time, he'll take you to McDonald's and get you a happy meal, not getting himself one cause again- he's poor. But he will steal your fries though, and your drink. Not that you mind. No, no. You love sharing your food with Dabi, in fact, you'll probably be feeding him with your own hands.
"Here comes the plane, Dabi! Say ahh!" As you poke his closed lips with a fry.
Sometimes you'll ask about his scars. You're still too young to understand it all, and you being a curious kid, you often ask about his appearance. With gentle hands, you'll be tracing his staples and burn marks, asking if they hurt.
He'll shrug. "They used to, but not anymore." But maybe his tone wasn't convincing enough, or maybe you just needed an excuse to your Hello Kitty bandaids, but you're pulling them out pf your bag and placing them haphazardly on Dabi before kissing each boo boo to "make the pain go away".
You don't notice the misty eyes of your brother while you're kissing his burns.
Before the sun sets, Dabi is taking you back home (or else Rei will have his head), and you're so tired that you fall asleep while he's carrying you, drooling slightly on his shoulder as you mumble about Dabi and him being the best (which he obviously recorded to piss off his siblings. Shotou and Fuyumi are 1000% convinced that this was a deep fame and not you).
He'll tuck you in bed, maybe kiss your forehead before leaving. On his way home, he's looking through all the photos he secretly took that day of you,and there are even some very shaky, badly taken photos of him by you (because you wanted to take photos of your big brother too🥺) before Dabi settles on the one picture where he's looking ominous (but his eyes are soft) and you're in his arms, all giddy and happy.
New wallpaper 🥺💖
#yandere bnha#bnha headcanons#yandere mha#bnha imagines#yandere dabi#yandere todoroki clan#dabi bnha#dabi todoroki#dabi x reader#bnha dabi#mha dabi#dabi
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My In-Laws ~ Part II of 'My Mistake'
YANDERE TODOROKI SHOTO
TW: OBSESSION, DELUSION, MENTIONED ARSON, IMPLIED VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF MAFIA AND GANG ACTIVITIES
A/N: This is a quirkless AU so the Todoroki family isn't as fucked up. Touya never left but Enji is still lowkey an asshole. Also sorry this took a while, haven't been feeling very well.
READ PART 1 HERE
You should have gone to law school like your mom wanted you to. You had such a bright future. Now here you were, dressed to the nines, heading to an event you had no business being at, with a man who was convinced the both of you were madly in love.
Some people would consider it a win, especially with how powerful and wealthy the Todoroki name was. However, the circumstances that had led to your situation were less than ideal.
"I'm so glad you decided to match with me, my love," Shoto said, sending a small smile your way.
"You burned all my other clothes," you responded dryly, swatting his hand from your thigh.
The asshole pretended like he didn't even hear you. "It's good for us to present a united front against my family. This might come as a surprise but we aren't exactly a regular family."
You glanced out of the blacked out windows of the chauffer driven car you were in to the convoy that followed in front and behind, filled with armed guards. "You don't say."
Shoto sighed morosely. "It's shocking, I know. I must warn you that some of my family aren't very, how would you say, mentally stable."
"...is that so?" you asked the man who decided he was in love with you as he was tied up in your basement. Honestly, the whole thing was starting to sound like some big, elaborate prank he was pulling. But no, Shoto began his spiel, completely oblivious to your sarcasm.
"Take my eldest brother for example," he began. "We aren't supposed to talk about him, actually. It's...really been very difficult for my family..."
"Oh...did something happen to him?" You asked, feeling kind of bad.
"Hmm? No, we just can't reveal too much information so it won't be used against him in court." Shoto gave you a blank look. "He burnt down a school district. It's been really hard for my family to keep him out of prison so he's on house arrest now."
...of course he was.
The rest of the drive was filled with stories of Shoto's siblings and mother. You weren't sure if you wanted to meet actually them or if you wanted to throw yourself out of the car, but before you could make a decision, the car arrived in front of a large compound. You gaped in awe as the gates swung open to reveal a mansion and grounds even grander than Shoto's.
There was a butler who welcomed you to the mansion, while his eyes tried to communicate with you to run. Now that was a tempting idea. But there was no backing out now. Plus, Shoto had gotten used to your escape attempts and his hand was like a shackle on your wrist. You gazed around the interior of the mansion, your hands itching to pinch some of the smaller but still expensive looking art pieces.
"You're here!" A cheery voice made you turn towards the large grandiose staircase where a beautiful woman stood. She had long white hair, tipped with red, similar to Shoto's half. Must be Fuyumi then, the only 'normal' one in the family according to Shoto.
You smile thinly as she wraps you in a hug. "It's so to finally meet you!" she exclaimed. "Everyone is in the dining room already!"
Shoto snatched you back into his arms before Fuyumi could drag you away but she just chuckled and rolled her eyes at you. "Shoto was always so possessive with his things."
Things? Your smile grew a bit more strained but neither of them seemed to notice or care. The dining room was just as opulent as the rest of the house but you barely got to appreciate it, instead, all you took notice of was the mix of bright blue and grey eyes staring at you.
"This is Y/N. Don't be weird," Shoto introduced, oh so eloquently. The heads of the table were occupied by a giant red haired man and a tiny woman with silver hair flowing down her back. Two young men sat opposite each other and Fuyumi slipped into a chair, patting the seat next to her for you. Shoto ignored her and pulled you to sit next to him.
You nodded at them awkwardly. "Hello. Nice to meet you."
"You're kind of hot." A redhead with an ankle monitor and a disturbingly predatory grin piped up. "Like in a trapped mouse kind of way. I like it."
"Hush, Touya," the older woman said sternly. "He didn't mean that, dear."
"Nah, he has a point." The other young man, Natsuo probably, smiled at you, looking at you slowly from top to bottom. "There's something appealing there."
"I said don't be weird. Keep it in your fucking pants." Shoto glared at the both of them and if it were anyone else, you might have felt worried for them, however, the atmosphere in the room never changed.
"That's enough, all of you." The large man said gruffly. He must be Enji, the generally disliked patriarch. "Y/N, was it? Welcome."
"I'm sure Shoto has told you all about us. But we barely know anything about you, my dear," Rei said kindly. "How did you and our Shoto meet?"
"Oh, um-" You glanced around the room, wide eyed, only to be met with curious gazes from the family. Panicked, you shrank back into your seat. "We- uh, we met by chance, you know, it was like sooo romantic, haha. It was a park-yeah...".
Touya rolled his eyes and Natsuo scoffed into his wine glass. Enji silently raised an eyebrow. "Well, that sounds...nice," Fuyumi laughed awkwardly. "Very romantic..."
Shoto cleared his throat. "Y/N tried to kidnap me the first time that we met."
It was as if the tension just bled out of the room. Rei gasped in delight and smiled at Enji. "Oh, it reminds me of how me met! You remember when I tried to kill you?" He gave his wife a small, fond smile and nodded.
"Oh now, I'm definitely interested," Touya purred. "Looks like we have a little psychopath on out hands."
"You'll fit right in then, pretty," Natsuo added with a laugh. "We're all some kind of fucked up."
"I knew it!" Fuyumi exclaimed, eyes sparkling. "The moment I saw you, I knew you were special!"
Shoto leaned in, whispering, "I think they like you. Not sure if that's a good or bad thing."
Oh you knew what it was. As excited chatter from the Todoroki family began to fill the room, you knew that you had just gotten yourself entangled with one of the most dangerous groups of people in the world.
And that was a very bad thing indeed.
A/N: If you enjoyed this, please leave a like, comment and reblog! I need to sleep and get my shit together lol so this might not be my best work. Thanks for your support either way!
@sky2lar @justabratsworld
#obsessive love#obsessive yandere#yandere#bnha#boku no hero academia#fanfic#mha#my hero academia#yandere boyfriend#writers on tumblr#bnha shouto#bnha shoto todoroki#mha shoto#mha headcanons#mha imagines#yandere x reader#yandere male#male yandere#yandere x gn reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere shoto x reader#yandere shoto todoroki#yandere bnha#yandere boy#yandere bf#tw yandere#yandere mha#yandere todoroki
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𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 — 𝐝𝐚𝐛𝐢/𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐚
word count: 1262
cw: none other than dabi's foul language
summary: dabi encounters a cat. i continue to spoon-feed this man happiness. based on this prompt by the lovely @scarlettcryptid ♡
Before he knows it, a quiet ‘Pss-pss-pss’ leaves his lips.
He tries it all.
Clicking his tongue, saying - whispering - “Here, stupid fucking kitty”, because god forbid someone hears. Slowly putting his hand out, some more ‘Pss-pss’-ing - anything that had worked on the neighbours’ cats when Fuyumi did it.
Here he sits; Todoroki Touya, a man stripped of all dignity at the sight of a fat cat.
The concrete is cold underneath his palm. Dabi welcomes April’s spring breeze, a strand of jet black hair tickling his cheek as he pulls the strings of his hoodie tighter. The dewy scent of the morning air is overtaken by the intense smell of steaming hot Yakitori, fresh off the grill, bought - not stolen - bought with his own, hard-earned cash money. (That, admittedly, he had stolen.)
You’ve got to indulge, the vendor had shouted, in the little pleasures! Treat yourself to life's delectable delights! Two plus two, Weekday special! Don’t miss out on-
“Screw you,” he’d told her, shoving the money on the little silver tray next to the register, scowling when she still served him with a bright smile, one that reminded him of Fuyumi’s excited grin every time she’d successfully pulled off a trick on her beautifully painted Kendama. Fuyumi would be so upset, he thinks, if she knew where he gets his food from these days.
He pulls the first skewer from the paper box, diligently inspecting a grain of Szechuan pepper. Dabi hasn’t laid eyes upon a spice in months - especially not one this pricey.
No, ever since he’s made a temporary home in the outer area of the city, it’s been nothing but dumpster diving and collecting restaurant leftovers for him. Stale bread. Expired cookies. Plain rice, cooked in an old bean can. Salted butter. Some Chili powder on top of his potatoes, if the old man at the soup kitchen was feeling generous.
Compared to the barely digestible nutrients his body runs on, the sight mere inches from his face is a divine gift.
After turning it over once more he finally takes a small bite, careful to pull the piece of chicken off the skewer with his front teeth. He’s become even more sensitive to temperature lately, and his teeth are the most annoying aspect. Not the sizzling of his flesh when he overuses his quirk, not the burn behind his eyes as they go dry. Those he’s gotten used to rather quickly. But when most of the food you eat is either cold or poorly reheated, the sensation of something hot is bound to cause major discomfort.
It’s not as bad as he expects. Neither the temperature sensitivity nor the taste. He begins to chew more boldly, savouring the harmonious balance between onion and garlic, sea salt and pepper, topped with tare sauce and just a hint of lemon. Say about the outskirt markets what you will, but those street food vendors do know how to grill a chicken.
Dabi doesn’t notice how quiet it’s gotten until something chirps behind him.
A cat.
A rather well-fed cat.
A cat that technically isn’t overweight, but its thick fur coat still makes it look a little fat.
Black with a white tummy and some spots of orange near its paws, sitting two arms’ lengths away. Its eyes follow the skewer as he moves it to one side, then the other, then dangles it upside down. Some grease drips onto the grass of the porch he’s sitting on. He finishes the remaining pieces of chicken and pulls out the second skewer, eyes shifting between his precious meal and the overly attentive cat.
Finally, he decides to pinch off a small piece, chewing at the spiced crust until it’s gone. He tosses the plain chicken towards the cat but to his surprise, it flinches and retreats behind a large flower pot.
The little fucker.
Wasted half a bite of perfectly good food.
Dabi turns his attention back towards his steaming Yakitori. Some time passes. He doesn’t know if it’s seconds or minutes that he zones out looking at the flowering apricot tree in the distance, but he’s pulled back to reality by soft chewing noises. Careful not to make another sudden movement he shifts a bit, just enough to look over his shoulder. Sure enough, the feline is greedily nibbling at the slice of meat. The two of them make brief eye contact before turning their attention back to their respective meals.
The sound behind him subsides shortly after and is replaced by a soft purring, one that he knows isn’t directed at him. He lets the cat have another piece from his third skewer nonetheless, this time giving it a gentle toss so it lands a few inches closer.
Still visibly tense, it takes a few steps forward and sniffs at the chicken before gulping it down in a few bites. Greedy shit, Dabi thinks, as he sacrifices yet another precious piece. He puts it down at his side, rubbing his fingers together. The cat’s attention is on the meat immediately, ears twitching as it courageously inches closer towards Dabi. He finishes the last of his Yakitori, never breaking eye contact with the cowardly little furball next to him.
Before he knows it, a quiet ‘Pss-pss-pss’ leaves his lips.
He tries it all.
Clicking his tongue, saying - whispering - “Here, stupid fucking kitty”, because god forbid someone hears. Slowly putting his hand out, some more ‘Pss-pss’-ing - anything that had worked on the neighbours’ cats when Fuyumi did it.
Here he sits; Todoroki Touya, a man stripped of all dignity at the sight of a fat cat.
After a thorough standoff, the cat’s curiosity gets the better of it. It keeps its stomach low as it sneaks across the ground, stretching its long neck to sniff at the finger that Dabi used to pull the Yakitori off the skewer earlier.
“If you bite me, I’m sending you to the coat factory.”
As if that theory was being tested, Dabi feels a sudden nip at his fingers. Cursing, he pulls back slightly, only to see the mischievous fucker’s pupils go wider. He wipes the bits of chicken grease off in the dewy grass and offers his palm again, checking both sides of the street to make sure nobody’s looking.
As if to taunt him, the little furball pounces and takes a swipe at Dabi’s hand before he can turn his attention back to the porch. It chatters in surprise when the man pulls away just in time.
Fucker, as Dabi decides to dub this newfound enemy of his, darts toward his other hand where he’s drawing lazy patterns on the concrete. With its claws half out and its tail puffed up, it races toward the wall, around the flower pot and jumps back onto the lawn to take another playful swing at Dabi’s limbs. Minutes later, he’s got the little menace chasing his fingers in circles, losing balance here and there and rolling over ever so often.
He’s focused, eagerly following the cat’s every move, trying to predict its attacks by the flick of its tail, an ear twitch, pupils that narrow ever so slightly before it leaps forward.
He’ll never admit it. That for once, there’s a sudden lack of grief in his heart.
Only when the first ray of sunshine hits the outer edge of the garden does he let himself fall backwards. The cat is but a purring weight on his thigh, stretching its paws across his lap with the softest ‘Meow’. Eyes closed and arms stretched out, he inhales slowly and holds his breath until he feels his pulse slow down. Dabi doesn’t care that his hair is getting a little wet, doesn’t care that the grass tickling his ears stings a little, doesn’t care that he’ll probably have red marks on his hands for a while.
If he shuts his eyes hard enough, he might still be able to convince himself that Touya is dead.
#the strength it took me to not turn this into a 5k word dabi x reader could move mountains.#dabi#todoroki touya#touya todoroki#bnha#bnha fluff#dabi x reader#< u cant blame me. this tag is what gets the clicks going and im a sucker for validation#touya x reader#dabi x you#almighty brainfarts it is currently 00:29. good night <3#edgelord#my writing#x
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civilian touya who has an awkward relationship with his family. puts the civil in civilian. he got all his angst and rage out of his system during his teenage years, and enji’s been on a self improvement journey for some time now. things should be good now — but he only visits home once every two months (sometimes even less often) and no phone call with him ever lasts any longer than five minutes (unless you’re natsuo. then you get an extra five). and no matter how hard fuyumi or rei attempt to pry on the occasions he does join them at the dinner table, whatever he’s been up to recently is still a mystery for the most part by the time he leaves. touya loves his family, because loving unconditionally is just in his nature. but he spent so much time being angry and pushing them away during his teenage years that he doesn’t really know them anymore — and he can’t bring himself to trust people he doesn’t know.
civilian touya who randomly brings home his hot tattooed gf one day. rei’s eyes are sparkling as she laughs and chats with you, hand resting over your own in that warm motherly way. and the whole time enji’s sat like a fucking statue with an unreadable expression on his face that makes him look constipated. he’s trying so hard not to say oh brother 🙄 so this is what touya’s gotten himself into. he hasn’t gotten to the chapter about conservatism in his self help book. he doesn’t say anything because everyone seems to really like you and touya’s been watching you and his mom talk with a fondness that’s lowkey causing cracks in his stone cold heart. but secretly, he’s betting that this relationship isn’t gonna make it touya’s next visit.
civilian touya who brings you over again…. and again…. and again. enji’s so bewildered and stressed at the fact that he was wrong it’s comical. and he has yet to voice his concerns to anyone else bc he doesn’t want to look like an asshole so he just has this ongoing bet with the voice inside his head that you and touya are going to break up any minute now. everyone else has joined touya in being infatuated with you because you’re great — but also because touya’s now started to visit more often and there’s a constant grin on his face that they haven’t seen since he was a little boy. and enji swears he won’t fall for your little tricks! he’s absolutely livid when a chuckle escapes him at a juvenile joke you made. scandalized by the fact that he’s a little curious about the meaning behind one of your tattoos — you’re not gonna get him to ask 😡
civilian touya who announces that you’re five weeks pregnant a year and a half into your relationship. rei cries. because she’s going to be a grandma, of course, but also because he actually chose to share the news with them instead of suddenly disappearing to some foreign country to raise a family in secret — something she’s convinced the touya before you would have done just to avoid being open with them. and enji, thinks this might just be his aha! moment. having a baby this soon, out of wedlock? bound to fall apart. for once, he hopes he’s wrong.
civilian touya who has one hand stabilizing the smiley, toothless baby girl sitting on his lap and the other holding your left, thumb rubbing the aquamarine gemstone on your ring finger. enji watches his firstborn dote on his own and silently reminisces the first few months of touya’s life. he remembers being full of love for someone for the first time in his entire life, and being terrified; it was all more than he knew what to do with. touya seems to know exactly what to do with it all when he coos at his two girls. love was never a challenge for him — just finding somewhere to place it.
★ a/n: i wrote this with the panel from 388 in mind and that’s the ONLY reason shouto isn’t mentioned. ily bby it’s not what it looks like
#dabi x reader#dabi drabble#dabi headcanons#dabi#dabi imagine#dabi x y/n#dabi fluff#dabi angst#dabi fanfic#touya todoroki x reader
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Alright, and you know what, while I'm at it; has Horikoshi ever spoken to a real woman? Spoken and listened? The fact that Todoroki Rei and Fuyumi, the women, are "ready to forgive" Enji, and the sons are not, is actually hilarious to me, because in the real world that dynamic is almost exclusively opposite.
You're telling me that the generations of women who have been used and abused are just WAITING to forgive the source of their misery is realistic, while the fucking male children who benefit from this exact, specific form of misogyny are vehemently against it is an insult and a tragedy.
Every day of my life I wish Shouto was a female child, then maybe I could take it all seriously.
And any of you Rei bashers, get in my comments right now, because your age, and lack of understanding and comprehension, is showing. Every time I see a post whining about how Rei could have done better, done more, done ANYTHING in her position I could fist fight god and win. Because the only fuckers saying shit like that are the ones too young and / or too stupid to realize that real world women get killed every day for doing what you suggest Rei should do in her position.
And I know how everyone loves to bring in "real world examples" when it comes to the make believe stories, so don't try and weasel out of this one with the whole IT's ONly FIctiON bullshit, because you can't have it both ways. You wanna act like an idiot, be prepared to be treated like one.
It's not often I see a take so blatantly imbecilic that it prompts me to post about it, but DAMN if some of you don't need a muzzle.
#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#todoroki family#enji todoroki#todoroki rei#todoroki shouto#todoroki natsuo#todoroki fuyumi#todoroki touya
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Kyoya: I haven't gotten an F since I failed recess in second grade. I was a painfully boring child.
Kaoru: You're still boring now.
Kaoru: I hope Hikaru is okay, he can get pretty insecure when he's alone.
Hikaru at the other end of the school: Kaoru? KAORU?!
Mori: When Shania Twain says "let's go girls" I feel like I could kick a door off its hinges.
Tamaki: I wasn't sure what to get Antoinette for her birthday so I bought her the same Apple watch as me so we match.
Mrs. Ootori: Fuyumi, don't get pregnant. Getting pregnant with Kyoya was the worst mistake of my life.
Kyoya: I'm right here.
Mrs. Ootori: Oh right, I forgot. Apparently I tried to kick him away, like giraffes do at the zoo.
Kyoya: ... I'm doing so well emotionally.
Tamaki: Where do babies come from?
Yuzuru: Tamaki, I'm sure we've talked about this.
Tamaki: Yeah, but I'm blanking. Two guys, right?
Kaoru: Sorry, we have to leave early, Ageha's school called, she tried to play God at the science fair again.
Tamaki: I'll pay for your lunch, Haruhi!
Haruhi: Oh, okay.
Lunchlady: That'll be 100,000 yen.
Tamaki: ...What the fuck?
Mori: I love my friends. They never demand I speak. I can go nonverbal and listen to them like they're a podcast.
Kyoya: My smartwatch just congratulated me on my run and said I burned 300 calories... I was sat down eating a cheeseburger.
Tamaki: Hikaru, Kaoru, FBI agents don't hold hands!
Hikaru: These ones do!
Kaoru: Yeah, and they sleep in the same bed!
Honey: While we were in Boston I got this 10% off coupon, it saved me $90 at a bakery!
Mori: He saved $90 on a $900 purchase, and he's still happy about it.
Kyoya: Right, I'm leaving for my doctor's appointment. Please behave while I'm gone.
Kaoru: Still trying to find your soul?
Kyoya: Oh please, they gave up on that when I was less than a year old.
Hikaru: The oneesan from the train poster I fell in love with got pregnant, so I've been crying about that for a few nights now.
Kaoru: Next time, tell a therapist that instead of me.
Renge: Hey, what did you guys get for number twelve?
Kaoru: I got eighteen.
Haruhi: I got nine point five.
Hikaru: I got Abraham Lincoln... for some reason.
Hikaru: Can we ride our new scooters outside?
Kyoya: Do whatever, I'm not your mother.
Hikaru: Okay! Weee!
Kyoya: Not in the street!
Midwife: Halloween, what a day to go into labour, eh? I'll get a nurse to wipe the face paint off.
Reiko: No, I want to look like this. I put it on after I went into labour.
Akira: Hey, I just rolled over in bed and Hikaru is here with me. Is Kaoru with you?
Renge: Let me check... yes.
Akira: Great, I'll be there in ten to make the swap.
Kyoya: I'm getting blackmailed at school...
Fuyumi: What?!
Yuuichi: Nobody blackmails our baby brother but us!
Akito: Yeah, messing with Kyoya is a privilege, not a right!
#ouran highschool host club#ohshc#ouran high school host club#incorrect ohshc quotes#incorrect ouran quotes#tamaki suoh#haruhi fujioka#kyoya ootori#hikaru hitachiin#kaoru hitachiin#takashi morinozuka#mitsukuni haninozuka#reiko kanazuki#renge houshakuji#akira komatsuzawa#yuzuru suoh#fuyumi ootori#akito ootori#yuuichi ootori
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