#but a well-adjusted adult would be able to recognize that this boy was corrupted and needs some healing

[keen-eye]

they were SO wrong for harassing Kenny and fighting him and his very reasonably protective brother

we’re hitting you because we love you and want you to take us back, Kenny!! we know what’s best for you, Kenny!!

leave that boy alone!! do not drag him into all your drama again!! I agree Kenny loves karate and should work through his issues, but he can do so at literally any other dojo in the valley

[bakugostiddies]

Please god do a villain!au with Todoroki 🧎‍♂️ I usually don't like those but omfg with him it would totally work

Absolutely. This turned into a 4k word fic, but I am too attracted to this man to be ashamed.

Icarus | Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: eventual smut, temperature play, impact play, kind of dub-con but not really, degradation, praise, villain!au, corruption kink, no gendered terms but reader has a vagina and breasts.

NSFW | 18+

You had fucked up.

The room was dark and dank, eerily quiet save for the sound of your breathing. You looked around frantically, struggling to break loose from the bonds that held you. Shit. Shit. Shit.

As your eyes adjusted, you noted that there was a door ahead of you, a steel one with two deadbolt locks. You could feel a metal chair beneath you, rattling each time you moved even slightly. Your arms and legs were restrained by some sort of extremely strong fabric, but your mouth was unrestricted. Shit. Shit. What was Endeavor going to say? You were still just his sidekick, but this was your first big operation and you blew it completely. He would kill you when you got back, you just knew it. Endeavor took his temper out on you even when you did well, which meant you had no clue what he would do to you after a fuckup this bad. Shit.

Calm down, Y/N, you told yourself mentally. You were safe and unharmed, so maybe they just wanted information. You attempted to activate your teleportation quirk, but it didn’t work. What happened? You could feel yourself beginning to hyperventilate. You didn’t want to die here, after being kidnapped by some asshole who wouldn’t even fight you face to face.

“If you’re wondering why you can’t use your quirk, we just took it away for a while.”

A voice emerged from the shadows of the room, soft and almost velvety. You flinched. You hadn’t even realized someone was here. How could you have missed something so obvious? You felt like a shitty fucking hero.

“Who are you?” You said after a moment.

“Im surprised you didn’t recognize me. Well, I suppose it is a bit dark in here.”

And suddenly with the flick of a match, the voice became a man and the shadows around the room came to life. You swallowed harshly, all of the moisture in your mouth gone. The man stalked towards you with a sureness of a predator and stopped a few feet away from where you were sat in the metal chair. You looked up at his two toned hair, his strong, rugged figure in the flickering light. He wore a suit not too different from that of a hero’s, but he was tinged with scorch marks and small icy spikes. He looked like he was made of fire.

“Well?” He said it softly, but there was a hint of malice in his tone. “Who am I?”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, your body almost paralyzed with fear. You knew who he was, of course you did. He was the one who helped blew up that building on the case you were on a month ago. He was the one who ambushed those (kind of sleazy) businessmen on their way to a cartel. He was the one who’s name was whispered in fear and awe on the nations’ streets. He was standing right in front of you, looking… bored?

The man sighed and fiddled with his match. “Hurry it up, hero, I don’t have all day.”

You spoke almost inaudibly. “You’re Icarus.”

He smiled slightly and a chill ran down your spine.

“See? That wasn’t too hard.”

He moved a bit closer to you and leaned down, his heterochromatic eyes almost level with your own. A single gloved hand moved to touch your chin with his thumb and index finger, moving your head from side to side with a feather-light touch. You hoped he couldn’t feel how scared you were, how your body seethed and rejected his very presence.

He finally released your face and you let out a sigh of relief. Icarus removed a single glove and touched his fingers gently to the match. It went out without smoke or a flicker, just a gentle hiss of frozen silence. The room was dark again, and he was moving, knocking on one of the walls.

“Turn on the lights, Red Riot.”

Your eyes widened. Red Riot? Wasn’t he the pro-hero who became a villain after Dynamight? Holy shit, was Dynamight here? Icarus interrupted your train of thought as the lights flickered on almost menacingly. You noted your surroundings carefully, seeing a bed in the corner, a small table, and another chair. The room looked less like a prison and more like a shitty motel suite.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He sat down in a chair across from you, leaning forward with his arms on his thighs and his legs spread slightly.

“I don’t know, Icarus.”

“Heres a hint; it has something to do with your boss.”

“Endeavor?”

You could feel bile rushing up your throat but you swallowed it down. The man before you clenched his jaw rigidly, as if it pained him to hear the name, but returned to normal so quickly you might have imagined it.

“You’re a bright one. Yes, hero, the very same. And do you have any idea on what he’s planning to do, say, sometime in the next six months?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

His tone was harsher now and he got out of his chair, moving closer to you again. You felt so small under his scrutiny, yet drawn to him like a moth to a flame, like Icarus himself to the sun.

“You see, I’m the only reason you’re alive. And if you want to keep your pretty little head-“ he circled around behind you- “you will listen to what I say.” His voice was barely a whisper in your ear, and your voice hitched in your throat.

“Do you understand?” He asked, straightening up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir.”

This was so goddamn humiliating, like your first day working with Endeavor all over again. With him, it was always a yes, sir, no, sir, please don’t make me work weekends, sir. But you swallowed your pride again and spat it out.

“Yes… sir.”

“A hero that obeys commands, what a find,” he said tauntingly. “But you could stand to lose that attitude.”

You wanted to slap him, to beat him up to the point of him being bruised and bloody and broken and then have him call you sir instead. God, if only you could teleport out of these fucking restraints-

“You’re thinking about using your quirk, correct?” It was like the asshole could read your mind.

“You can’t. Aizawa Sensei took yours away. You know him as Eraser-head.”

Fuck, Eraser-head was here too? All of the biggest villains were gathered here together and you- you could do nothing.

“So I’ll ask you again. What are Endeavor’s plans?”

At that moment, you made yourself a promise; that you would not let Icarus win. Little did you know that you would break that promise a thousand times over.

———-

Two days later:

———-

“Did Endeavor tell you about the attacks?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come on now, you can tell me. I won’t hurt you.”

“...”

“Still no response? No matter, I have time to get it out of you.”

———-

Seven days later:

———-

“Still not talking, hero?

Look at that, the silent treatment.

I never thought an adult could be so petty. Just tell me where I can get more information.

Nothing?

Okay. Eat your soup, I can’t have you dying on me before you start talking.

And hero? You will have to open your mouth sooner or later.”

————

16 days later:

————

“Cut the bullshit, hero. We know he has plans for a big attack sometime during the next six months, so either Deku is wrong, or you are lying to my face. And Deku’s never wrong.”

“Well, I guess he’s wrong this time.”

“Then I guess we’ll return you since this has all just been one big mishap.”

“Really?”

“No. You aren’t the smartest, are you?”

“Maybe my brain will somehow recall something about this totally real attack you think is happening if you give me better food?”

“Don't be a brat, hero. I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if I had known you would be so inconvenient.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

————

20 days later:

————

“Thanks for the bread, sir. It's quite an upgrade for a kidnapped person’s shitty meal.”

“You have low standards, hero.”

“Hey, why do you call me that?”

“What, hero?”

“Yeah. I have a name, you know. It's-“

“I know what your name is.”

“Okay, Jeez. If you knew it, then why not use it? Plus, I’m not even a hero yet. I’m still technically just a shitty sidekick who’s totally blown it on my first solo mission. I’m never going to be a pro at this rate, I might as well just give up.”

“I think you’re good.”

“What?”

“I said, you’re powerful and good at using your quirk. You have a lot of assets and it’s a shame your talent is wasted on Endeavor and the fools at the pro-hero agencies. It was difficult to actually catch you off guard, to get past your guards, to make sure your quirk was out of commission. And we are very strong.”

“Oh. Um, thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t thank me, hero. I’m just stating the obvious.”

————

25 days later:

————

“Why is your name Icarus?”

“It's not my real name.”

“Well no shit, dude. I'm asking why you chose it.”

“Icarus was a boy who followed his father’s instructions perfectly, but the moment he strayed from the path set out for him, he was punished, scalded by the flames of the sun, and cast away. But I think it was worth it for him in the end.”

“Why?”

“Because he was free. Because Icarus flew, and he was able to be his own person, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Do you feel like Icarus?”

“Most of the time I do, yes.”

“Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think that right now, you’re flying or cast away?”

“At this very moment, I think I am flying.”

“You know what? I think so too.”

————

29 days later:

————

“So what’s your real name, sir?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?”

“Classified. Also, I don’t need you to know my name.”

“But you know mine!”

“That's because you’re a prisoner, in case you’ve forgotten. You are almost unnervingly at ease here.”

“I’ve met three people so far and you have all given me no reason to fear.”

“Really? Not even Dynamight?”

“His hair makes me laugh. Plus, I can’t take airheads with overinflated egos seriously.”

“I agree with that assessment wholeheartedly.”

“You agree with my assessment- Sir, you sound like an old man.”

“I’m only three years older than you, you know.”

“Really? But you have all of these wrinkles?”

“I do not have wrinkles.”

“Fine, frown lines then.”

“That makes it sound like I don’t smile.”

“Well, you don’t!”

“It’s hard to find things to smile about.”

“God, you’re such an Edgelord.”

“What do you mean by that? hero, stop laughing.”

“You are definitely an old man.”

————

30 days later:

————

There had been a new development a couple of days ago in the kidnapping situation. You could feel your quirk again, which meant a lot of things. It meant you weren’t here against your will anymore, that you were free to go. Yet you remained. You still stayed in the same room with Icarus checking in on you in the afternoons. However, it had been given furniture- a desk and more comfortable chairs, a small rug on the floor, and thicker blankets. It was almost like you weren’t even a prisoner anymore. You could always leave, you reasoned. You could teleport out of here. Your quirk was back, and yet you stayed.

The other villains had taken a liking to you for reasons beyond your comprehension, but all it meant was that you were never short on company. Dynamight would burst in to complain about how Deku always got the best missions, Red Riot would bring in a deck of cards and the two of you would play go fish or bluff, even Deku would occasionally check up on you and make sure you were comfortable. But your afternoons? They were always set aside for your favorite visitor- Icarus.

...

“You haven’t answered my question about your name yet.”

You were sitting on the cot in your almost room, feet dangling off the edge and swinging back and forth. Icarus was sitting on his chair again, but lazily, with his arms locked behind his head and his legs precariously balanced against the edge of the bed.

“You haven’t answered any of my questions since you got here, so I don’t believe you have a right to complain.”

He was right, of course. He always was. But technically, he was equally at fault in this case. He was the one who sucked at interrogation, so much so that you took pity on his colleagues. They would have to deal with his lack of results.

You weren’t complaining, however. You enjoyed talking to him, looking at him, being in his presence. It was a stupid crush to have, but you didn’t care. He was beautiful to look at, the way his biceps curled behind his head, the lean toughness of his body, the sheer strength he possessed. Your eyes trailed down his sprawling figure, tracing each indent and dip and curve of his skin in your mind.

“Are you finished staring at me?” His words jerked you out of your stupor and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I-I wasn’t- I didn’t-“ you babbled until he stopped you.

“Don’t worry, it’s only natural to find me… appealing. You haven’t spent time with anyone else for a very long time.”

You almost screamed on the spot, burying your face in your hands. You peeked out between your splayed fingers to look at him, seemingly unbothered save for the slight pink tinge hidden beneath his bangs.

“How can you say things like that, sir?”

“Like what?”

“Uhm, never mind.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you up whole. He was so, so dense, it was a wonder he even noticed you basically eye-fucking him. You felt the cot creak beside you and a slight dip in the weight. Icarus had seated himself beside you on the small bed and was looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“I did not mean to shame you for your gaze, hero.”

He said it gently and kindly. It would be almost romantic if not for the situation you were in. You remained silent, so he continued.

“I believe it is normal for you to feel this way towards someone who has been in such close quarters with you for so long a time. You should be glad that you still have these urges.”

You suppressed a groan. This felt like having the sex talk with your parents all over again. “Sir-“

“-in fact, everyone feels them!”

He was rambling, oh god you needed him to shut up-

“I feel them for you all the time, and I’m completely normal.”

And suddenly, the air changed between you into something charged and heated.

“You… have urges around me?” You wanted to hear him say it again, just once, but he turned away from you, tensing up and rising from his seat awkwardly. His face was stony and his hair covered his eyes like bicolored curtains. There suddenly was space between the two of you, some insurmountable gap that could not be bridged.

“I apologize deeply. I have misspoken.”

“Sir, wait, you don’t have to leave!” You cried out as he made his way to the door.

“But I do. You don’t deserve this treatment, and it is cruel of me to hurt you in this manner.”

And that was when something broke within you, something that had been holding you together this whole time.

“No.”

He turned around, almost scared by the anger in your voice.

“This is when you decide to stop? You have literally kidnapped me, interrogated me, left me in all but isolation, for a fucking month. You took me from everything that I wanted and everyone that I love and yet, and YET, I wanted you. Goddamn it, I still want you. I don’t understand why. So don’t apologize to me for misleading me or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve decided to use as a sheild. Apologize for everything you have done to me, you fucking cunt.”

And then your voice broke and you could feel the tears rushing to your eyes, your vision turning glassy as your chest heaved with sobs. You could feel yourself slipping away, your breaths growing shallow and your body shaking. Why did you stay here? Why didn’t you leave when you could? What was the point, if Icarus didn’t even want you?

And then, suddenly, you felt warm.

Icarus, sir, whoever the fuck he was, was holding you tightly in his arms, head dipped down into the crook of your neck, his arms enveloping you in his warmth. He was your sun. And he could scorch you again and again but you would still be drawn to him.

Your panic died down and you wept for the first time since you arrived. The two of you sank down to the floor, his apologies muttered swiftly and quietly against your skin. You were in his lap now, your body curled up into a ball in his embrace, one of his palms cupping your face. He turned you slightly towards him.

His eyes were wet too, but only slightly, and his fingers were thumbing at the tears on your cheeks. One of them got close to the corner of your mouth and slowly but surely, with almost childlike fascination, he pushed the tip of it in. Your tongue ran along the edges of it, the salty taste leaving you wanting more.

And slowly, Icarus leaned forward, his lovely face the closest you had ever been to him. He removed his finger from your mouth and kissed you instead, gently, and then all at once.

It was a furious kiss, on that burned and heated a cold room. You could feel teeth and tongue and hot tears, a clashing finale of a kiss. It was against your lips that he murmured his name.

“My name is Todoroki Shouto.”

He said it softly, leaving your lips to place open-mouthed kisses on your neck that left you moaning and had wetness pooling between your legs. But suddenly, your eyes snapped open.

“Todoroki? As in-“

He kissed you again to silence as you felt the questions racing through your head. Endeavor was Todoroki Enji, right? But he had never mentioned having kids to you? Was Shouto lying to you? Why did he want to destroy his father? And how were you-

“Shh.” Shouto tapped his forehead to yours. “Let me take care of you.”

Fuck it. The questions could wait.

Shouto reached down to pull off your shirt and groaned at the sight of you. He looked at you in wonder.

“You- hero, you make me feel like I’m on fire.” He said it with such sincerity that you nearly cried again were it not for his palming of your breasts, his burning fingertips tweaking your nipples and making you whimper slightly.

“I am so sorry. I’m sorry for everything I put you through-“ you were placed on the bed- “I’m sorry for taking you away-“ He was kneeling, fucking kneeling, between your legs- “but most of all-“ fuck, he placed hot kisses on your stomach as he pulled your pants down-

“I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to do this sooner.”

And with that, his tongue was lapping at you through your panties, new ones that the villains had provided for you, with reckless abandon. Your hands tugged at his hair and you heard his hum of a chuckle as a vibration on your pussy. There was pressure, so much pressure from him against you, like nothing you had felt before, and when he finally pushed your panties aside, they were soaking wet.

Shouto looked up at you for a moment, meeting your gaze with his own, eyes sparkling with desire. And then, without a word, He pressed a small kiss to your clit that had you jolt slightly before he dove in. He had you moaning within seconds, his tongue lapping at your folds before swirling around your clit. You felt yourself reaching a climax- it was too good and too fast and too much and- Shouto pushed a finger inside you and crooked it slightly and you began humping your hips upwards as he nursed at your clit. Your climax was swift and powerful, but he didn’t move throughout it. Even as you came down from your high, his mouth planted on you and his finger gently pumped in and out. Shouto added one more easily, and you swore you saw stars when he began thrusting. He fucked you with his fingers, marveling at your reactions, the sounds you made, your pussy pulling him in.

“Fuck, hero, you’re so wet. Is this all for me? Have you gotten off to me fucking you like this in this bed?”

You moaned loudly and Shouto removed his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. There was a dark look in his eyes that you remembered from the first day you arrived.

“Answer me, hero.”

You nodded your head slightly, but that wasn’t enough for him. He rose to his feet and without warning, he smacked your clit. You squealed loudly from the stimulation, the pain turning into pleasure quickly. His palm was cold as ice, and you squirmed dumbly against his touch.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, yes, sir, I’ve thought about you fucking me everywhere in this room-“

Shouto’s palm reverted back to his normal temperature and you sighed with relief as he cupped your pussy and rubbed it gently.

“What a good, slutty, hero. Have you touched yourself when you think about me?”

You blushed slightly and hid your face behind your hands. God, this was embarrassing. Of course you had gotten off to the thought of him, but to say it out loud was a different feeling altogether.

You took too long and Shouto spanked your clit again. You let out a shriek and tried to wriggle away from him, but he just pulled you closer.

“I want to see your face, doll.” You whimpered at the new pet name. “Now, have you touched yourself when you think about me?”

“Y-yes sir-”

“Y-yes s-sir-‘ so shy for someone who wants a villain to fuck your hero pussy into behaving.” he palmed himself over his trousers, letting out a little huff of pleasure. “I want to, shit, want to fucking ruin you.”

Shouto pulled you to him as your hips thrust desperately against the air.

“Yes sir! Want you to fuck me, want you inside me-“

He groaned and humped into you, the metal of his belt buckle catching against your clit and making you flinch with overstimulation. Shouto noticed and pulled you closer as he stood at the side of the bed, your back flat against the mattress and your hips arched upwards to meet his bulge. He rutted into you again, forcing your pussy to kiss the metal of the buckle once more. You felt your body seizing up, your orgasm building inside you, and Shouto, with a sadistic gleam in his eyes, pressed his buckle harder against you.

The longer it stayed there, the more it heated up, almost more pain than pleasure, until Shouto wrapped your legs around his waist and thrust against you. There was a wet patch on his pants and you kept shrinking away from the burning hot metal that teased at your clit.

“You have no idea what you do to me, fucking hell-” He managed to spit out, “I’m not even inside you and you’re dripping all over me like a bitch in heat-”

He continued to hump you roughly, each time more forceful than the last until you came loudly as Shouto pushed your body into the belt buckle. “No more, Shouto, please, no more- its too much-”

“Too much for you already, hero? I haven’t even come yet. And you- how many times have you reached your climax today?”

You almost screamed with frustration- how were you supposed to know, you didn't fucking keep track-

“I can tell you, brat.” He grabbed your waist and flipped you easily onto your stomach. You were completely exposed to him now, unable to see his face, out of control entirely.

“You have come three fucking times. That doesn’t feel very fair to me, does it? Do you want my cum inside you?”

You buried your face into your pillow, and he pushed down slightly on your lower back, creating an arch. You startled when he teased his cockhead against the surface of your pussy, wetness coating his dick.

“Shouto, I want your cum-”

His palm came down hard on your asscheek, forcing a gasp out of you as he rubbed it softly with his palms. He leaned closer towards you, his voice whispering in your ear.

“Then beg.”

And, with your voice muffled by the pillow, you followed his orders.

“Sir, fuck me, please, please- I need you inside me, I need you to cum for me, please- Shouto, Daddy-“

Your begging got cut off by him thrusting into you. You screamed and he shushed you gently, holding your hand with his own. “Do you think you can take the rest of it?”

The rest of it? There was more? You looked over your shoulder and nearly passed out. You had barely taken half of his length and you were already completely filled up. But… you wanted to feel him, all of him, so you muttered a soft “yes.”

“Okay, baby, take it easy…” he eased a couple more inches into you before you tightened up, your pussy clenching and back arching as he slid in. “Oh fuck,” Shouto groaned. “Do that one more time and I won’t be able to hold back.”

And of course, you grinned. And proceeded to clench yourself around his length again.

Shouto nearly growled. “I warned you, hero.”

And then, he thrust into you. Hard. And he kept going, pumping in and out of your body like a machine, his thumb rubbing against your clit and his other hand on your leg. You are screaming and crying and babbling on about how good his cock is, how good you felt, how this is what you wanted. And Shouto? The cocky bastard was gloating.

“Look at you, such a good slut on my cock. Are you crying? God, thats so fucking hot. I’ve got a cute little hero crying on my dick. I know you can use your quirk now, Hero, I know Aizawa sensei returned it to you. Did you stay because you wanted me to fuck you like this? Did you want to be corrupted?”

“Yes,” you’re almost incoherent, “yes, ruin me, make me a villain, I wanna be a villain!”

Shouto slows his pace for a moment. “You would leave Endeavor? Leave the agency?”

“Yes, I would, Shouto, fuck, anything for you-”

He slapped the inside of your thigh before resuming his pace again. You had never felt so full before, his dick reaching places within you that you didn’t even know existed. His palms gripped the sides of your hips so tightly you thought you might bruise, tiny burn marks already forming in the place of his fingertips. You were close, so close, your tears and drool spilling over your pillow and your body limp and helpless before him. Shouto felt you clenching around him, completely spent.

“Do you want to cum again? What a greedy pussy you have, hero, a needy little cumdump.”

You couldnt get words out, croaking out your mumbled yeses and nodding your head vigorously. He pounded even harder into you and reached around your thighs to your clit, rubbing it in tiny circles as he fucked you. You could feel your climax building for the fourth time and you twitched pathetically beneath him. Finally, Shouto pinched your clit slightly and you came with a wail of his name.

He fucked you through your orgasm, but he was slower now, his strokes hitting you deeper than before.

“Do, fuck- do you want me to cum in your pretty pussy?”

Shouto was hunched over you, his head resting on your back and his arms caging you in so that he was all that surrounded you. His breath came out in cold pants and his thrusts got more and more erratic as he neared his own climax.

“Please, I need you to want this, I need you- shit, I...” You could hear the desperation in his voice, how he yearned for you, and you the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Yes, Daddy! Want you to come inside, fucking breed me-”

“Oh fuck, Y/n-”

And then Shouto came with a groan, his cum splattering your insides with warmth. He pressed kisses to your spine, trailing his fingers down your arms as he turned you to the side. He didn’t pull out of you as he did so, causing you to groan slightly. Finally, he released you and gently removed his dick from where you were connected. Some of his cum oozed out and he pushed it back in with his fingers, trapping his seed within you forever.

The pair of you laid together side by side for a moment, Shouto’s fingers tracing your body with slow, lingering touches as if he was afraid you would shatter the moment he pressed too hard.

You were the one who broke the silence. “ You said my real name.”

“I did. I love your name, Y/n. It just felt... wrong to say it when you were my prisoner. It was easier to distance myself from you if I just thought of you as a random hero. But you’re more than that now.”

You stared straight into his eyes, your hands reaching up to run gently through his silky hair. “I’m not leaving, Shouto. I’m never leaving this place. And I’m not just staying for you- I like it here. The villains like me, and they respect me. You aren’t bad people- if anything, the rest of the world has been far worse than anything or anyone I’ve faced here. It feels like I’m finally home.”

Shouto gathered you into his arms and pressed you tightly to his side. “You will be mine now,” he said almost matter-of-factly.

“And you will be mine as well.” You planted a small kiss to his nose that made his eyelids flutter and a slight blush crawl onto his cheeks.

“You deserve the world, Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “And I am not even close to being good enough for you.”

Shouto’s eyes were downcast and you could see the doubt creeping in. You gently pressed your fingers to his furrowed brows and soothed the wrinkles away. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He asked.

“Put yourself down. You are more than enough for me. And Shouto? I don’t need the world. I already reached my sun.”

He smiled at you then, with no underlying malice, no undertone of darkness. It was blinding. Goddamn it, you would do anything to see that smile for the rest of your life.

“That was terribly cheesy, Y/n.”

“Shut up, Shouto.”

He kissed you, and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering up a storm. Todoroki Shouto was your sun, and you were his. And even if you both melted away under your flames, it would have been worth the loss.

-Bonus-

2 weeks later:

“So, uhm, Y/n, Todoroki, we were reviewing the footage from Y/n’s old room the other day. While we’re all happy you two are *ahem* together now, maybe you can display your... appreciation for one another in a more private place?” Kirishima was blushing profusely and refused to meet your eyes. Suddenly, it clicked for you.

“WE WERE BEING RECORDED?”

“And?”

“SHOUTO!”

“Ah yes, how horrible and violating, I feel as though I have been exposed indecently without my permission for the perverted public to see. They will be unable to contain themselves when faced with my immeasurably sexy figure.”

“You are NOT being helpful.”

“I beg to differ, Y/n. Kirishima, is there any way you can send me a copy of the tape-”

-----------

A/N: I hope you like this and please let me know if I should do a villain!UA series because I only write under the influence of peer pressure. 

[arsonistslut]

Chapter 13: The Demon's Hand

Jeff didn't know what to make of any of this. Was this his form of walking to the light? Was this all a dying illusion as the stench of his burnt flesh filled the air? Or had a demon truly clawed it's way into his head?

"I'm sure you have..many questions regarding what's happening to you, but right now, that isn't the focus. The future is your focus, Jeffrey. Do you remember that boy you got into a fight with when you were 7? A boy named Cassidy, said something mean about your brother?"

The creature that stood before Woods had an inhumanly deep voice, befitting the fact that it looked like it had the power to smite the earth with a flick of it's wrist.

"Yeah..I broke his nose and knocked 2 of his teeth out with a toilet top lid, right?"

"Surprised you remembered so vividly. I'm sure, then, that you remember how good it felt to fight back? To not be a victim anymore? Well..that catharsis hasn't evaded you since then, has it? Keith Winchester should know by now. Well, there is a way you can rid yourself of all the troubles in your life, and achieve an even greater catharsis, Jeffrey."

"And that would be?"

"There is endless joy in the suffering of others, Jeff. T-"

"You want me to kill people? Are you fucking insane?! The pigs'll know who's started killing people in no time flat!"

The demon let out a chuckle and put a hand on the young adult's shoulder.

"Does it matter? You wouldn't have much else to live for otherwise. I mean..your brother hates you, your parents aren't there for you, school life is hellish..you're a victim, once again. You aren't a victim, are you? There's so much more for you in this life!"

A few seconds felt like an eternity, Jeff going through the options in his head..was he ready to truly abandon the way he lived? His family, the trip to school, the students around him he'd grown to despise..despite the misery of it all, he'd found comfort in the inevitable monotony of everything around him..but he now questioned that bleak future. Why spend his life bathed in existential misery..when he could spend it bathed in the viscera of liars that hid away who they truly were to the world? Why limit himself to a corrupt world's ever-changing definition of right or wrong? He was always the wrong one, the outcast, the freak..the monster. What was stopping him from living up to those monikers?

"Come, take my hand, Jeffrey. We"ll show those cattle the true meaning of happiness."

The demon held out a hand to Jeff, and a smile creeped it's way onto his face as he firmly grasped it's hand.

The next time he woke up, he was lying in a hospital bed. The bandages wrapped around his face burned to the touch, but he was far too weak to move, or do anything about his predicament. The IV drip in his arm did serve to numb the pain somewhat, and in some places of his body, he couldn't feel anything. In a slightly drugged haze, he was barely able to make anything out from beyond the gauze wrapped around his face, but he'd recognize the voices of his parents anywhere.

"I..I just don't understand, I thought Jeffrey would be more responsible than this!"

Carla said to her husband, who looked at his son, and then back at his wife.

"Well, be grateful..he won't be here controlling us anymore."

"But..but what about Liu? He's gonna want to see him, not just wait in the car.."

Jeff could hear his mother slide her face into her own palms..out of sorrow, out of disgust, he couldn't tell.

"Why couldn't he have just died..?" She muttered as she looked at her son, lying in a hospital bed.

"Why can't we just live our own lives...?"

"Sweetheart, don't get like that..I'll go and grab you some coffee, alright?"

"Okay.."

Jeff Sr. rose from his seat to go grab some coffee for his wife from the waiting room, leaving her alone with Jeffrey. Something new was brewing inside of him, unbeknownst to his mother..a rage unlike any other. Holding back the urge to leap out of his hospital bed and strangle the life out of Clara's lungs, staff and burns be damned, was a herculean feat. He knew he had to wait for that moment..that moment of bliss, that moment of freedom.

A week had passed since Jeff's hospitalization, and Liu's mental state was only getting worse and worse. How the hell Randy managed to get away with glassing a classmate of his because of "self defense" was beyond him, and the fact that all the other students went along with this narrative was baffling. Did they really hate Jeffrey that much...? He tightened the scarf around his neck, lost in his own thoughts until he heard the roll of a skateboard behind him. He turned around to find..Randy, of all people. The meeting was strange, because Liu never saw him skateboard..must have some hobbies.

"Randy, I know why you're here. Fuck right the hell off."

"Hey, listen..."

For once..Ellsworth seemed sincere. He glanced around, as if checking for someone else who might hear him, before looking back to Liu.

"I'm sorry. For everything. I didn't care that what I was doing was wrong, and..I should've stopped a lot earlier than I am. I'm truly, truly sorry, Liu. You don't have to forgive me, I just needed to apologize for all the shit that's happened."

The darker side of Liu would probably attacked Randy right then, but the last time that darker side came out, he nearly lost his brother, so he decided to try and see the good in Randy. Before he could skate away, Liu put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's..It's fine, Randy. It really is."

"It...It's all just..fine?"

"There's nothing we can do about it now, may as well just forgive you instead of holding onto it."

And with that, Liu continued back home. He was headed on another date with Natalie soon, so he had to go get ready for that occasion.

Chapter 14: Stargazing

Liu was secretly thanking his lucky stars that Nat had a driver's licence, because lord knows what that officer's expression would be when he found a 15 year old who looked like he belonged on Instagram selling designer clothes or something.

"This the spot, babe?"

"Yeah, you wanna lie in the grass and..stargaze or something?"

"Sure, but no tickle fights, ok?"

"I'm making no promises."

Liu got out of his girlfriend's car and lay down in the nearby grass, quickly pulling her into his arms when she sat next to him. The two sat there in silence for a good while, just..gazing into the stars together. It was one of the best things Liu could've asked for, right now. Everything just seemed so chaotic and out of control, like a whirlwind..so to just sit there in the shade with the girl he loved so dearly was a more than welcome break.

"Hey, Liu.."

"Yeah?"

"Is..everything alright? I mean this has to have been a shitass month for you.."

"Heh, I'm fine..thanks for asking, though. It means a lot."

"What sort of girlfriend would I be if I didn't worry about my baby?"

Liu could feel his worries melt away as he curled up in his lover's embrace, his face quickly turning red.

"What about you, Nat? How've you been?"

"...You're not allowed to tell anyone at school about this, ok?"

Natalie looked Liu in the eyes as she spoke, and he nodded in response. She took a breath to prepare herself, then began to speak again.

"..The rumors about my dad being a piece of shit are true. He's one of those ex-military types who's just psychotic and can't adjust to normal life. Any little problem happens and he's already screaming at me over it like a fucking drill Sargent! He did teach me how to kick people's asses, though, so there is a bit of a silver lining, but being punched over getting a lyric of the US anthem wrong..I doubt that's worth it."

"Jesus..i-is there any way I can help..?"

"Heh..kill him, I dunno."

Natalie couldn't help but crack a smile when Liu looked at her with confusion.

"Babe, I'm joking."

"Oh, right! Eheh..really though, things'll get better, ok? This'll all-"

"Liu, I'm fine. Hey, if anyone needs to hear a spiel right now, it's you. Your brother got set on fire, for Christ's sake."

"That probably isn't anything compared to what you go through..daily, I presume."

"Liu..honey..it's fine, it really is."

Nat gently combed her fingers through Liu's hair to comfort him, and watching his concern expression melt away into one of distracted joy. She didn't know how to feel seeing this..Liu being happy was always something she liked to see, but she desperately wanted to tell him that she truly wasn't ok..she felt on the cusp of losing it, but it burdened others to make them deal with her prolems, her worries...wasn't it?

[dogbearinggifts]

I would absolutely love to hear more of your headcanons about Luther, whenever you've got the time!! ((I love all of your posts about these messed up umbrella kids, tbh!))

Haha, thank you! I love pondering the lives of these seven awesome little assholes.

As for Number One….

He’s been unhappy for a while, possibly since his teen years. It’s hard to say when his dissatisfaction with life in the Academy started to come to the surface, but things probably began going from a simmer to a boil after Ben’s death. Whatever the case, I think he’s known subconsciously that things weren’t right for many years; but like most eldest/Golden Children in abusive homes, he’s actively denied this for just as long.

His denial takes the form of self-blame. For all his misplaced anger toward his siblings, Diego is able to recognize that Reginald is at the root of all their problems; but Luther doesn’t even begin to approach this point until the end of the first season. For most of his life, I think Luther blamed his growing unhappiness on himself. He’s not irritated with Dad’s refusal to let him off the grounds because that’s unfair; he’s irritated because he’s in a bad mood and needs to learn to be more grateful for what he has.

He’s always questioned how Reginald treats Vanya, but never explicitly. He doesn’t judge her for not having powers—that’s just the way things are, and getting angry at her for something she can’t help doesn’t make sense to him. He doesn’t question why she was left out of missions or sidelined during training—those things are dangerous enough when you do have powers—but leaving her out of family photos strikes him as a bit extreme. I mean, sure, Dad said they were Academy photos and she’s not in the Academy…but couldn’t they just take a family photo to go with the Academy ones? He’s never asked Reginald this, because Reginald doesn’t like to have his judgment questioned, but he’s always wondered.

Reginald taught him that he couldn’t have friends outside the Academy because friends were dangerous. “They’ll be a bad influence on you, Number One,” was probably what Luther heard. Reginald might have even done this awful illustration that my own parents did, where you take two fresh apples and one that’s rotten, stick them all in the same plastic bag, and leave them under the sink for a day or two. Then you take out the bag and presto! The two “good” apples have been “corrupted” by the “bad” apple, and that’s what’ll happen to you if you make friends Daddy Dearest doesn’t approve of!

As a result, Luther convinced himself he was happier without friends. He didn’t need anyone outside the Academy. He had his siblings, and Grace and Pogo when his siblings left. Sure, neither of them were probably great for a conversation, but they were something.

Reginald’s favorite means of keeping Luther in line was to tell him that whatever he did was for Luther’s own good—and as an adult, he’s reallyinternalized it. Mutated without his consent and left alone to adjust? Dad must have known his recovery would be more difficult if he’d been coddled. Sent to the Moon? He’s needed there. Not getting frequent shipments of food? Maybe Dad’s just trying to teach him to get by in dire circumstances.

Like many of his fans, I believe he enjoys writing poetry. But I think he shies away from writing anything too emotional or too personal, because the last time he allowed some of his frustration and despair onto the page, he wound up with a poem that made Reginald sound like a monster—not the benevolent (if harsh) authority figure Luther knew he was. The thought of Dad finding that poem filled him with so much guilt and fear that he shredded it and never allowed himself to write another one like it.

His decision to get hammered after learning his Moon mission was a farce didn’t come out of the blue. It’s clear he’s been sheltered from some of the ugliest aspects of Klaus’ substance addictions, but he wasn’t unaware of them. He didn’t know about the mausoleum or the resulting PTSD; all he knew was that his brother did a lot of drugs and drank a lot and always seemed to be happy and carefree. I think Luther was always tempted, on some level, to experiment with drugs, alcohol, or both—just to see if it gave him what Klaus had. I’d imagine the temptation got stronger after Ben died, and stronger yet after his nonconsensual body modification. He resisted, though, because he thought the world needed him sober.

He wasn’t always so aloof. Solitary confinement wreaks havoc on people’s ability to relate to others and read a room—but Luther doesn’t know this. He only knows that it was easier to talk to his siblings and understand what they needed from him before he went to the Moon. It’s clear to him that something is deeply wrong, and he’s certain it’s his fault, but he can’t figure out what it is.

Deep down, he hates being the Academy’s leader. He hates the stress, hates the uncertainty, hates knowing that everything that goes wrong will be his fault. Most of the time, he just accepts it as his duty. Sometimes, when things are going well, he convinces himself he enjoys it. He must enjoy it. Dad made him Number One, and Dad knows him better than he knows himself.

If he could have his pick, he’d choose to be more of a supporter. Instead of giving orders, he’d pitch in and make sure they were carried out effectively. Transporting the wounded, functioning as a heavy-hitter, generally doing whatever needed to be done—he’d do it. It’s not that he prefers to blindly follow orders; its just that he’s better at seeing what needs to be done than he is at charting the course. Once someone else comes up with the outline, he’s able to fill it in with colors and shapes.

He likes the word astronaut, but prefers the literal meaning: star sailor.

He loves nature. Never got much of a chance to be out in it, but he loves cooler temperatures and dramatic views, wild open spaces with cold fresh air and lots to explore. Alaska, Montana, Colorado, parts of Canada, Wyoming—that would be his jam.

If given the chance, he’d be a total country boy. Living and working out on a ranch, heading into town once a week for supplies, going to the county fair every year, walking around with a funnel cake in one hand and carnival tickets in his pocket….once he got a taste of that life, he might never go back to the city.