#look at the beautiful banner Kae made me!!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I met the devil by the window, traded my life
Synopsis: When horrendous acts of violence occur, they sometimes leave behind impressions that continue to linger long after the initial event. Rarely are they ever pleasant.
Sometimes, whatâs left behind isn��t necessarily a something, rather, a someone.
Youâre about to find that out the hard way.
Word count: 16k
Paring: Dabi x Reader (Fem Reader)
Warnings: Character Death, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, General Demon Mindfuckery, just know that Dabi is not a good person in this one, he's ment to be unhinged, so Minors or Ageless blogs DNI. This is rated 18+.
Written for @candycandy00 League of Villain's Horror Anthology Collab! Thank you so much for having me love! I hope you enjoy my contribution! I had a lot of fun with this one!
Thank you to the lovely @kimkaelyn for the beautiful banner - and thank you for all the encouragement you've given me recently, it means the world to me. đ
(Shamelessly inspired by Poltergeist and Silent Hill)
**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!
You shouldâve known something wasnât right when you stumbled across the Air B&B booking.
It was too good to be true. You werenât dumb. Realistically, you knew that anything that was too good to be true, normally was, and you should avoid it like the plague, but for once, you decided to indulge your curiosities a little.
You had been looking for a place to stay while travelling abroad in Japan with a few of your friends, when you had found the listing completely out of the blue. You remember reading the details the website had provided, your eyes bugging out of your head as you swiped to look at the pictures of the listing that were posted.
From an outsiderâs perspective, it was perfect. It was a massive house, practically a mansion, located right in the heart of Shizuoka Prefecture. The mansion backed out onto a large nature preserve, and despite being located very close to the cityâs core, it was private â a massive retaining wall surrounded the entire property, except for the far side of the yard, which backed out onto the forest that surrounded the property from the back.
The mansion itself was so large, it could easily house you and your three other friends for the two weeks you planned on being in the country for. Best of all: it was cheap. Really cheap. It was well under price compared to what all the other lodgings youâd looked at previously wanted for a two week stay.
Youâd booked it for you and your friends without so much as a second though. How could you possibly pass on such a great deal? The simple answer was, you couldnât.
Youâd excitedly told your friends about what you found, and once theyâd seen the listing for themselves, they had agreed that even if the house wasnât exactly like what was shown, the price was too good to pass up on, and that any small issues the listing may or may not have could easily be overlooked.
It was too good to be true, and now you understood exactly why that was.
Currently, youâre running for your life though the same forest you had seen in the listingâs pictures, while your pursuer hunted you relentlessly through the dense brush.
You could feel the heat of the fire on your back behind you, the rancid smell of smoke burning your lungs as you struggled to keep your breathing even, but you didnât dare stop running, nor did you spare a glance behind you, knowing full well what youâd see.
If you stopped, heâd catch you. If he caught you⌠God only knew what would happen to you then.
You dove behind a thick tree, clasping your hand over your mouth as you fought to calm your frantically beating heart, and level out your breathing. For a moment, you didnât hear anything aside from the crackling of the fire behind you and the pounding of your own heart. You almost risked sticking your head out from behind your hiding spot to see if you had managed to lose your pursuer, until a voice cut though the smoke and haze surrounding you:
âOh little mouse⌠where are you? Why donât you come out and play? I donât bite⌠much.â
You feel tears spring to your eyes involuntarily at the sound of the otherworldly rasp that cuts through the smoky air like a knife. He sounds close. Too close for comfort, but you donât dare to try and run from your spot, too afraid of giving up your position to the manâno, the demon that was hunting you through the burning woods.
âCâmon darlin, I was just teasinâ you those other times. I wouldnât actually hurt you. Not like your dumbass friends back there.â
Thereâs a horrible raspy snicker after that last comment, and you donât bother to try and stop the tears you feel roll down your cheeks at the thought of your poor friends, and the state you left them in back at the mansion as you all but ran for your life:
Dead. Burnt down to little more than ash.
Such violent ends for girls who did nothing to deserve them.
You want to cry openly at the cruelty of his comment, but you know heâs baiting you. He wants you to show him where you are. You donât believe him for a second when he says he wonât hurt you, when youâve seen first-hand what heâs capable of.
A few seconds of silence pass aside from the ominous popping and crackling of the forest fire thatâs steadily drawing closer to your location, before he seemingly loses patience with your lack of cooperation. In the most demonic sounding voice youâve ever heard, he bellows:
âGET THE FUCK OUT HERE!â
Your blood turns to ice in your veins as the creature seethes with barely suppressed rage. You donât know what to do. If you stay where you are, youâre dead. If you go to him, youâre definitely dead. Youâre fucked regardless of what you pick.
When he speaks again, he sounds smug, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he calls out to you:
âIâm going to count to ten Doll. If youâre not out here by the time Iâm done, Iâll burn this whole fucking forest down, and turn everything around it to ash.â
You let a muffled sob escape, not bothering to try and hide it now. Your sobs only grow harder as you hear him start to count in his chilling rasp, âOne⌠Two⌠ThreeâŚâ
You close your eyes, desperately trying to think of a way out; but there is no escape, you already know there isnât. The demon thatâs been hunting you through the forest for the last hour made sure of that when he set the mansion on fire, and subsequently, the surrounding forest.
Your mind goes blank as you take in your current reality, and despite everything, you find yourself thinking back to when this nightmare first started for you and your friends, nearly a week earlier when you arrived at the mansionâŚ
-----
The mansion itself was an intimidating place.
It doesnât look as foreboding from the other side of the retaining wall that surrounds the property â the massive gardens that sit just behind the wall are well maintained, and the house itself is clearly well taken care of, even though the website mentioned that no one has lived in the house for a little over a decade for some unknown reason.
You first get the impression that something is off with the house the moment you step through the front door. You set your bags down at the entrance, and take in the sweeping archways and long hallways that lead to other rooms of the house youâve yet to explore with your friends, before you realize how still the interior of the house is.
Aside from the noise you and your friends are making as you move your bags inside, thereâs no other sound in the house. As soon as the door to the outside closes, the inside of the house is completely silent.
You canât put your finger on it, but something about the odd silence has the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You seem to be the only one affected by the interior of the house, as your friends are mindlessly chatting amongst themselves as they grab their bags and move further inward, presumably to do some exploring.
You best friend nudges your shoulder and gives you a small smile, snapping you out of your reprieve. âYou okay? Youâve been really quiet since we got here.â
âIâm fine.â You tell her gently, brushing off your earlier concerns. âIâm just tired.â
She nods. âSame here. I think weâll all feel better once we eat something and get some sleep. The flight over here was so long.â
Just then, one of your other friends loops back to where you and your best friend are standing, waving you both over.
âHey! Weâre just picking out rooms! Do you two wanna come take a look and see if thereâs any you fancy? The second floor of the house is all bedrooms from what we can see.â
You both follow her up to the second floor of the house. Sure enough, the long hallway is lined with sliding panels that open into bedrooms. Some are open and some are still closed. Your other friend pops out from a room near the middle of the hallway and waves at you.
âCome take a look! I think all these rooms are bedrooms. Go see if thereâs one you want to claim as our own, I already know which one I want.â She grins as she taps the sliding door of the room sheâs in.
You laugh at her antics and move further down the hallway. âHave you explored all of them yet?â
âNo, just the ones closest to the stairs and the ones near the middle. Havenât gotten the chance to look at the ones at the end of the hallway.â She tells you honestly, jerking her thumb to the end of the hallway, where you can see two doors remain closed.Â
Your best friend follows you down the hallway, and opens up the panel on the right. âOh wow. This must be the master bedroom.â She mutters as she peaks in the dim room. âMaybe weâll just keep this one shut. Seems rude to sleep in the master bedroom. Iâll take one of the other rooms.â
You watch as she closes the panel again and moves back down the hallway to where your other friends are chatting, leaving you to the last door on the left. Just as you extend your hand to open the door, a sudden flash of heat runs up your extended hand and through your body, disappearing as quickly as it came, but it still causes you to pull your hand back with a gasp.
You inspect your hand, looking for signs of a burn, only to find nothing wrong with the skin of your palm. You stare blankly at the wood and paper paneling that makes up the sliding door, not sure what to make of what just happened, before you slowly pull the door open. This time, nothing prevents you from doing so.
You step into the dark room slowly, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim before looking around. It looks as though no one has stepped inside the room for years, as you notice the thick layer of dust settled upon every available surface. The room looks like it once belonged to a young boy, possibly a pre-teen, as you note the posters of various superheroâs scattered about the otherwise bare walls.
A few pieces of furniture are pushed up against the walls, and for some reason your heart aches when you look at the small, twin-sized bed. Everything in the room feels dated, like nothing progressed past a certain point in time, and you canât figure out why you feel like that, until you see it:
There, in the darkest corner of the room, is an ornate cabinet-like structure that looks similar to a closet, but something feels very off about the wooden structure. Just as youâre about to move towards it, your friends appear at the door, their happy chatter quieting down as they observe you.
âThere you are! We were wondering when you dispersed to!â your one friend grins as she pushes her way into the room, looking around. âHuh, I guess the people who own this house have a bunch of kids. The other rooms aside from the master bedroom are all kid themed.â
You donât respond, still trying to figure out what about the cabinet is bothering you so much, before your second friend approaches you, nodding to the dark wooden structure. ��Whatâs that?â
âI donât know.â You admit. âI donât think itâs a closet though.â
âThe website didnât mention it?â
âNo.â You mutter, brows furrowing together as you think back to the pictures youâd seen of the listing. âActually, I donât think they included any pictures of this room. I donât remember seeing any.â
Your best friend makes her way to where youâre standing and squints at the cabinet for a second before her face sours.
âNot to be a downer, but I think this is a butsudan.â
You turn to her, eyebrow quirked in silent question, and she elaborates. âItâs like a home shrine for family members whoâve died. They keep ashes or pictures of the person in there some times.â
âNo way, thereâs like⌠somebodyâs ashes in there?â your first friend speaks, shuddering, and your best friend shrugs.
âSometimes, not always though.â She glances around the room. âReally hoping Iâm wrong about that, since this is a kidâs roomâŚâ she trails off uncomfortably, but the implication of her words is clear:
A child who lived here at some point, died.
For some unexplainable reason, you suddenly feel drawn to the wooden structure and you slowly cross the room until youâre standing directly in front of the doors. Just as youâre about to reach out to open them, your second friendâs voice stops you.
âWhat are you doing?â she asks, a nervous laugh in her voice. âI donât think you should touch that.â
âIâm just going to take a peek.â You reassure her, placing your hands on the doors. âIf someone has to sleep in this room, I wanna make sure there isnât a childâs ashes in here.â You cast a pointed look at them. âIâm assuming itâs going to be me. Youâve all taken the other rooms aside from the master, and I donât think anyone wants to sleep in there out of respect.â
When your friends donât protest, you sigh and pull the doors open without a second thought, expecting the worst. Thankfully, no urn stares back at you, but something else does:
A picture of a boy, no older then thirteen or fourteen peers back at you through the gloom of the dark cabinet.
You suck in a breath as you take in the boyâs delicate features. Heâs young, baby-faced, even though his shockingly white hair would suggest heâs much older than he appears. The other thing you immediately notice about the boy, are his eyes. His eyes are a startling shade of blue, a stark contrast from the surrounding darkness in the room, and before you can stop yourself, youâve reached out to gently take the picture off its place on the mantal to have a closer look.
The instant the photo leaves the mantal, the same rush of heat flashes through you, only this time itâs worse. This time you feel like youâre being burned alive as liquid fire curses through your veins. The pain is so bad, it locks you in place, unable to scream as you feel like you being incinerated from the inside out. All the while, youâre unable to release your grip on the picture frame in your hands.
Suddenly, two piercing blue eyes surrounded by gnarled purple skin cut across your vision. They glare at you ominously before blinking out of existence, and as quick as the burning sensation came on, it vanishes.
You let out a gasp, and the picture frame slips through your fingers and crashes to the floor, the glass pane protecting the photo, shattering and splintering into pieces as the boyâs deep blue eyes stare back up at you amidst the mess of glass and wood.
âShit.â You breathe as you stoop down to pick the old photo out from underneath the glass.
âWhat was that about?â your best friend asks you worriedly, glancing between you and the shattered frame. âWe tried calling your name, but you didnât respond to us. Are you okay?â
âYeah, Iâm⌠Did you not see that?â you croak, holding onto the photo in your hands gently. âTheâthe eyes? You didnât see the eyes?â
âEyes? What are you talking about?â your other friend pipes up. âAre you sure youâre okay? Youâre acting super spacy.â
âYeah, Iâm⌠fine⌠just⌠fine.â You mutter as you glace down at the photo. âI didnât mean to do that.â
âWeâll go into town tomorrow and see if we can find a new frame for it.â Your best friend interjects quickly, seeing the distressed look on your face. âLetâs see if we can get this cleaned up. If youâre sure about sleeping in this room, I donât want you getting glass in your feet. You get yourself situated; weâll go find a broom.â
She leads your two other friends out of the room and you find yourself alone. You slowly place the photo back down at the alter and rub your temples tiredly.
âIâm sorry.â You mutter to the picture of the boy, even though you know he canât respond. âI didnât mean to do that. Iâll get you another frame. I promise.â
Just as youâre about to close the doors to the shrine again, something catches your eye. Just under the spot where the picture frame sat, thereâs an engraving on the shelf. Squinting down at the neat characters, youâre just able to make out a name carved into the dark wood.
Todoroki Touya
The next morning you wake up feeling like you didnât sleep at all.
You roll over with a groan and take in your surroundings blearily. You had ended up taking the room with the home shrine in it for yourself, but you hadnât been able to bring yourself to use the small bed the room provided. Instead, youâd taken the pillows and top blanket off, and arraraged them into a small cot at the foot of the bed. It wasnât the worst makeshift bed youâd ever used, but you hadnât been able to make yourself comfortable all night â torn between feeling racked with guild over dropping the picture, and feeling like you were being watched.
The second feeling you couldnât explain. You had woken up multiple times during the night, feeling like there were eyes on you, only for nothing to be there when you looked around your immediate surroundings. Each time youâd woken up, it had taken you ages to fall back asleep, leaving you drained by the time the first morning sunbeams filtered into the room from the covered window.
You opt to stay in bed for a little while longer, only heading downstairs when you hear the distant sounds of your friendâs voices floating up from the hall. You trudge downstairs, following the sounds emanating from what you assume is the kitchen, only to find your friends in the middle of making breakfast.
Your best friend looks up as you enter the kitchen, a small smile plastered on her face.
âGood morning.â She greats you kindly, passing you a plate piled high with eggs and breakfast meats. âDid you sleep well?â
âNot really.â You admit as you accept the plate. âI kept waking up during the night. Couldnât get comfortable.â
âI still canât believe you slept in that room.â Your other friend interest, biting into her toast. âYou couldnât pay me to sleep in there with that⌠thing.â
She doesnât need to say it for you to know what sheâs talking about. You shrug your shoulders and dig into your eggs.
âDidnât feel right sleeping in the master bedroom. Honestly the room is nice, thatâs not the issue. Itâs just really⌠quiet in there.â
âMaybe itâs haunted.â Your other friend chimes in with a giggle, and you roll your eyes.
âWith my luck it will be. Pretty sure Iâm going to have a vengeful spirit on my ass after I dropped that picture.â You joke as you stare down at your food. âIâm going to go into town after this and see if I can find a replacement frame. I still canât believe I did that.â
âIâm surprised they never had any pictures of that room on the booking site.â You best friend mutters as she slots herself next to you at the countertop. âThat seems a little weird.â
âWell, the website said that no oneâs lived in this house for a while. Maybe something happened to one of the kids.â You supply, and your friends grimace at your suggestion.
âYou think maybe theyâd mention that on the listing. You know; this house is haunted by a ghost child, stay at your own risk.â Your friend across from you quips, causing you to snicker.
âSome people pay big money for that. If anything, they could use it as a selling point. But I doubt it. I donât believe in ghosts.â You finish up your breakfast and put your plate in the sink. âIâm going to get changed and head into town. Iâll be back in an hour or so, and then we can do some exploring.â
Your friends let out a muffled chorus of agreed noises, before going back to their breakfast, leaving you to head back upstairs to change. You shut the door to your room behind you and flick on the light so you can pull out some clothes out of your bag.
Just as youâre about to pull your sleep shirt over your head; a wave of heat flashes through your body like lightening, and suddenly, you feel the same soul-piercing eyes on you again.
You gasp, and slam your shirt back down, covering your exposed breasts again with a shudder. You glance around the room wildly; half expecting to see someone lurking in one of the corners, but just like the other times before; no oneâs there. Youâre alone, even though the prickling of your skin is telling you otherwise.
You donât dare move from your spot, as you still feel like youâre being watched by something, but after a few moments the feeling dissipates, and you feel your body relax as the tension you didnât realize you were holding onto, bleeds out. Â
You change quickly and do your makeup, before grabbing your purse and bidding your friends a quick âbye!â, before heading out the front door, and out into the warm sunshine.
Outside of the house, everything feels better. The atmosphere is more inviting compared to the almost oppressive feeling the upstairs gives off, and you find your anxious feelings fading away as you make your way into town.
You eventually find a shop that sells all manor of things, and decide to try your luck inside. The old woman behind the counter greets you with a smile, and just as youâre preparing to use what little Japanese you know, the woman greets you in perfect English.
âHello dear. What bring you in today?â
You tell her what youâre looking for, and she leads you to a section of the shop where you can see a few wooden frames tucked away in a corner. As you pick out one that looks like it would fit the photo, the woman asks you how long youâd been in Japan for.
âMy friends and I arrived last night actually.â You tell her with a smile as you pay for the frame. âWeâre going to do some exploring around town when I get back. Iâm just here to get a replacement for a picture I dropped last night.â
The older woman hums as she bags your purchase. âI see. Where are you staying dear?â
âI think itâs called the Todoroki house? I canât remember the exact name of the listing.â
The old woman freezes just as sheâs about to give you the bag. Her face displays a myriad of emotions, but the most dominate look on her face is concern⌠with what appears to be a tinge of fear.
âDo you mean the house that borders Sekoto Peak?â she murmurs quietly. âThe one that backs out onto the forest?â
âThatâs the one.â You confirm as you gently take the bag from her. âHow did youââ
âYou shouldnât stay there.â The older woman cuts you off, shaking her head. âYou and your friends should find another place to stay while youâre here.â
âWhy? Whatâs wrong with it?â you press, causing the woman to swallow heavily. She smooths back a strip of white hair and mutters,
âBad things have happened in that house. Nasty things.â
âWhat sort of things?â you ask as you flex your grip on the bag handles. The older woman looks around the store, almost as if sheâs checking to see if someone is listening in, before she leans in towards you.
âThat house has sat empty since the fire, and for good reason.â
âFire? What fire? The listing never mentioned anything about a fire.â You mutter. The woman shakes her head, causing white strands of hair to fall out of her bun.
âIt wouldnât. the fire happened over ten years ago. Awful thing. The entirety of Sekoto Peak went up in a blaze. It almost burned down the Todoroki household with all of them in it.â
âAll of them?â
The woman nods sagely. âThe Todorokiâs. Enji, his wife Rei, and their four children: Fuyumi, Natsuo and the youngest, Shoto.â
âThatâs three.â You correct her quietly, âWhat happened to the fourth?â
The womanâs thin lips press into a firm line, and once again, she looks around the shop nervously. Once sheâs content that youâre alone, she continues:
âTheir oldest boy died in the Sekoto fire. The blaze was so hot, it turned his bones into ash. There was nothing left for his family to burry.â
You feel tears spring to your eyes involuntarily at her admission. Suddenly, your mind wanders back to the butsudan sitting in your room, and the shattered picture of the snowy-haired boy you found in it.
âWhat was his name?â you ask her gently. The woman hesitated for a moment, before she sighs, and mutters under her breath,
âTouya Todoroki.â
You feel your blood turn to ice in your veins as you remember the name you found engraved into the dark wood where the picture sat.
Touya. So that was whose room you were staying in, and that was how he died: Burnt to ash and scattered into the wind.No wonder his family didnât have his ashes in his shrine: there wasnât anything left of him to grieve.
And you had dropped his fucking picture, shattering it. For all you know, thatâs the only thing his family has left of him. The bag youâre holding onto suddenly feels a thousand times heavier in your grasp as you hold it tighter.
If the woman senses your inner turmoil, she doesnât comment on it. Instead, she continues on, snapping you back to the present.
âWe started hearing about some strange things happening around the house. Sometimes the family would come home and the house would be trashed, other times rooms would smell of smoke even though no one had been burning anythingâŚâ she paused. âand then the children started seeing things.â
âWhat kind of things?â You lift your head so youâre looking the older woman in the eyes as she quickly tacks on,
âNo oneâs really sure. Supposedly theyâd wake up in the middle of the night claiming that were being watched, or something was standing in the room with them. Then some awful things started happening to little ShotoâŚbad things.â
You chew on your lip, not certain if you want to know what she means by that, but you nod, signaling for her to continue. The old woman swallows thickly. âWe heard he was clawed multiple times in his sleep⌠among other things. Whatever was tormenting those children, Shoto got the worst of it. Things were not the same in that house after Touya died, but it didnât stop.â
The woman frowns softly. âThe lack of sleep, and the stress from her son dying must have gotten to Rei over time. Last we heard; sheâd taken a kettle to Shoto⌠burned half of that poor childâs face. Her husband had her committed to a hospital immediately afterwards, and not even a week later, they were gone.â
âThey⌠they just left? Just like that?â you ask subdued, thinking about the other rooms your friends were staying in, and how they were all kid themed. Now that you think about it; it really did seem like whoever last lived in the house left in a hurry. It almost seemed like they hadnât taken anything with them.
Maybe now you were starting to see why.
âIf memory serves, they bought another house closer to the city and moved there. They still own the one youâre staying in⌠they couldnât find anyone to move into it, so now they rent it out⌠a mistake if you ask me.â The old woman informs you bitterly. âBad things have happened at that place. Nothing ever good came from the other tourists staying in it.â
âOther tourists?â you pipe up, confused. âThe site I was using to book made it look like the listing had only been up for a few weeks at most. It didnât have any reviews or anything.â
The older lady only shakes her head. âIt doesnât matter my dear. Take your friends and find another place to stay. Get out of that house. Take it from me, Itâs not worth it.â
Her tone letâs you know the conversation is over. You leave the shop without another word. Feeling lost and overwhelmed from what you discovered. You grip tightens around the handles of the bag as you make your way back to the house, determined not to let what the woman said bother you.
All the while, all you can think about is the pair of cold blue eyes from the other night in your minds eye, staring into your soul, and a part of you canât help but wonder if thereâs some truth to what the older woman told you.
By the time you get back to the house your friends are gone.
A note on the kitchen counter from your best friend lets you know that your other two friends had gotten impatient, and wanted to do some exploring on their own. She writes that she left some lunch for you in the fridge, and that if you needed anything to text her.
You canât really blame them for wanting to go out and do their own thing, after all, your errand had taken you longer than you thought it would have, and after everything youâd heard, you just wat to relax for a little bit.
You set the rest of your belongings down and make your way upstairs to the room at the end of the hallway. You stand in front of the sliding door for a moment, almost expecting to feel the familiar, burning sensation from before, but nothing happens, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief and, enter the dark room.
You set your bags down and pull out the new frame youâd picked up, before making your way over to the home shrine. You open the doors slowly and pull out the old picture of the snowy-haired boy. You smile sadly down at it as you slip the worn paper securely in between the wooden slates.
âSorry Touya. I donât know what caused the fire, but you didnât deserve to die like that.â
A sudden wave of exhaustion rolls over you and you stumble backwards slightly. Maybe you were more tired than you originally thought. You think to yourself as you stumble over the to the small bed and collapse down onto it, ignoring your makeshift pile of blankets and pillows you used the night before, as your eyes slowly slide shut.
The last thing you remember seeing before your eyes closed completely was a hazy-looking figure standing in one o the dark corners adjacent to the bed.
-----
Dabi snorts as he watches your eyes close.
Humans are such simple creatures; a mere fraction of his power could send even the strongest-willed ones into the deepest slumber, or curse them with everlasting nightmares if he so chose.
He would know, heâs done it so many times in the past, itâs hardly fun for him anymore.
Once heâs sure youâre not going to wake up, he glides over soundlessly to stare down at your prone form. Originally, heâd planned to kill you after you disrespected his shrine, but the look of horror on your face after heâd partially revealed himself to you, made him reconsider. Itâd been so long since heâd seen fear look so delicious on someone â the sadist in him wanted to see more of it.
He told himself he was letting you live because youâd seemed remorseful enough after youâd shattered his picture, and he wanted to see what youâd do to fix the mess youâd created. You hadnât disappointed him at least â youâd gone out and bought another frame to relace the one youâd broken, just as he heard you say you would. He was still mildly pissed off, but he figured heâd let you live for a little while longer.
At least you were⌠pretty. He mused to himself as he peered down at you. You had better manners then most of the other tourists who had been brave enough to stay at the house in the past, despite its history with the locals. Many had seen his shrine, and had been stupid enough to go poking around in places where they shouldnât have, and he couldnât have that.
Most people didnât tend to make it past the first night.
Dabi snickers to himself as he backs away from you, allowing his body to turn to smoke once more, just as he hears the tell-tale sounds of your friends re-entering the house from the ground floor.
He wasnât sure what had possessed you and your friends to stay at the house, but it had been a long time since he last had visitors. He thought heâd done a decent enough job scaring everyone away after the last batch of moronic tourists had come through, but clearly that wasnât the case.
Heâd watch you and your friends for a little while longer before he made himself known, he decided, as he left you alone to wake up slowly.
For now, he was content to sit back and observe. But heâd be out to play very soon.
-----
You wake up to the room smelling faintly of smoke.
You sit up with a groan and hold your head in your hands as you gain your bearings. You couldnât even remember falling asleep, which was strange, considering you didnât think youâd been out for very long. A quick glance at your phone confirms your suspicions, leaving you even more confused by what happened, until the sounds of your friendâs laughing downstairs catches your attention.
You stand up too quickly and stumble slightly as the light smell of smoke invades your nose again, making it crinkle.
What the hell? You didnât remember the room being smokey before you passed out.
You look around the small room, trying to find the source of the smell, but your search turns up nothing, puzzling you further, until something the shop woman said earlier comes to mind:
Strange things started happening around the house; rooms would smell of smoke even though no one had been burning anything.
You fight down a laugh that tries to force its way out of your mouth. There was no way the house was haunted, even if the woman you spoke to earlier seemed convinced that it was. Obviously, the last owners of the house had suffered a terrible tragedy with the death of their eldest son, but that didnât mean that the house itself was haunted. Even the oddities from the night before werenât enough to truly convince you of that. You could chalk all of it up to you being overtired, which was probably exactly what it was.
The sounds of your friends from the first floor pulls you back to the present, and you make your way downstairs, suddenly grateful for the extra company. You enter the living room and are greeted with the sight of your friends gathered around the seated table in the middle of the room. They wave you over and you sit with them as they tell you about what they did while they were out.
âSo, were you able to find a new frame?â your best friend asks you once thereâs a lull in the conversation. You nod.
âYeah, I got one. Youâll never believe what I found out about the house though.â
Your best friend quirks a brow at you, prompting you to continue, and you snicker as you rest your head in your hands. âI spoke to a local earlier. They seem to think this place is haunted.â
âOh?â you friend asks you from across the table. âWhat brought them to that conclusion? Nothing weird has happened since we got here.â
âWell, I found out a little bit about the people who lived in the house previously.â You tell her, pointing upwards. âThey had four kids, which is why all the rooms upstairs look like they belong to young children, but the eldest died in some sort of forest fire.â You frown slightly as the image of the white-haired boy crosses your mind. âIâm staying in his old room.â
âThatâs fucked up.â Your other friend mutters, hugging her legs close to herself. âSo what? Heâs like⌠haunting the place or something?â
âIâm not sure.â You admit. âThe person I spoke to didnât say that specifically. Apparently, some weird things started happening after he died, and it drove the mom crazy or something to that effect. They moved out not long after that, but I donât fully believe the place is haunted. It sounds like there was a lot of personal issues with the family, and that might have had something to do with it.â Â
âYou think the website might have disclosed something like that.â Your best friend interjects quietly, pulling out her phone. âThatâs⌠a lot.â
âApparently it happened over ten years ago, so it wasnât recent.â You tell her with a frustrated sigh. âWhat Iâm more interested in, is why the listing didnât have any reviews on it. According to the person I talked to, the original family rents out the house, and has been doing so for a number of years. When I was booking it for us, the website made it seem like this place was brand new â that no one had stayed in it yet. But it sounds like thatâs not the case.â
âMaybe it really is haunted.â Your friend grins, kicking you under the table. Youâre about to swat her back, before your best friendâs quiet voice stops you.
âI think you guys need to take a look at this.â She tells you softly, beckoning you all over as she points down at her phone screen. She holds it up, and you can see sheâs done a quick search of the house by address. You feel your heart sink as you read the first three web articles that come up in the search:
Three Tourists Found Dead In Japanese Home.
Swedish Couple Found Burnt In Japanese Mansion.
Fraternity Party Gone Wrong As Massive Fire Erupts in Backyardâ
You canât bring yourself to read the rest of the internet searches, and to your horror, it just keeps going. Your friends are just as mortified, if the looks on their faces have anything to say about it.
âWhat the fuck.â You friend breaths as she shoots you an almost accusatory look. âYou didnât know about this?â
âNo! Of course not!â you snap back at her. âIf Iâd known this was H.H. Holmes house of horrors 2.0, I wouldnât have booked this place!â
âWell, that explains why itâs so cheap.â Your other friend mutters under her breath, but you canât bring yourself to care, still too in shock over what youâre reading to come up with a response.
âItâs not her fault!â your best friend cuts in, before either of your friends can say anything else. âIf houses are on a booking website for anyone to look at, then they shouldâve passed some kind of safety inspection beforehand. How this one was able to be listed with this kind of rap sheet is beyond me, but getting angry about it wonât solve anything.â She turns towards you. âI know youâve already pre-paid for the house, but would you be open to finding another place to stay for the remainder of the trip?â
âFine by me.â You mutter. âWeâre going to have to stay here until something else comes up though. None of us have the funds on-hand to stay more than several days in a hotel.â
âThatâs fine. Weâll figure something out.â You best friend soothes, squeezing you hand. âIn the meantime, would anyone like to play a game? Getting overly stressed out about the house isnât going to solve anything.â
âIâm good.â You mutter, standing up from the table. âActually, I think Iâm going to go lie down. Sorry guys.â
Your friends donât protest as you leave the room, still in a daze from what you discovered about the house. Suddenly, you wouldâve much rather preferred if it was haunted, because in actuality, it was so much worse than what you initially thought.
Screw spirits, this place was a modern-day mass murder site.
As you climb the stairs to the second floor, youâre suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of being watched. You glance down the hallway nervously from your perch on the last step, half expecting to see something waiting for you at the end of the corridor, only to be greeted with the sight of an empty walkway. Even with the reassurance that nothing seemed to be upstairs with you, you canât shake the feeling that your every movement being monitored.
With bated breath, you slowly peek your head into each child-themed room as you silently make your way down the hall towards your room, but to your relief (and almost slight disappointment), you donât see anything in the rooms aside from your friendâs luggage. Despite the reassurance, you still feel eyes following your every movement.
The feeling only gets worse as you near your room, and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as a sweltering heat suddenly manifests behind you. You donât know whatâs causing it, but any doubts you had about the house possibly being haunted, vanish as you quickly become aware of a presence that wasnât there before:
Thereâs something standing behind you. Youâre sure of it.
You donât dare turn around to find out what it is. You fling the sliding door to your room open and slam it shut behind you in one fluid motion without turning around to see whatâs behind you. You foolishly thought that youâd feel better once you were out of the hallway, but as soon as you take a step into the room, youâre suddenly aware of how hot the room is.
The still air is sweltering, almost burning â the heat is so intense, it nearly knocks you over as it causes a fresh sheen of sweat to glisten on your brow. You have no idea why the small bedroom is so warm when you know it wasnât like this when you were in it last. The small thermostat mounted on the far wall only confuses you further, as it shows a cooler temperature then what youâre currently experiencing. At first you think maybe itâs broken, but after playing around with it for a few minutes, you determine that itâs working fine as you dab at your forehead.
Then you feel it again: something is watching you.
Before you can even think to turn around, the glaring blue eyes from the night before flash across your field of vision. You let out a startled yelp before you can stop yourself, as the angry turquoise irises pin you to the spot. Strangely enough, they donât disappear as quickly as they did the first time, allowing you to get a better look at them.
They have to be the most infuriated set of eyes youâve ever seen. Theyâre narrowed in clear distrust, and heavily lidded. The skin under them looks darkened and gnarled, as if itâs been charred, and yet, you canât help but think theyâre the most stunning shade of blue youâve ever seen.
For some reason, you think youâve seen them somewhere before.
Almost as if they can sense your shift in thought, the eyes blink, and then theyâre gone, leaving you reeling in shock. This time, you know youâre not hallucinating. What you experienced was very much real.
At this point youâre so bewildered, you throw caution to the wind and scour the room, looking for the eyes again. You check under the bed, and in the closet, you even open up the window and stick your head outside to see if someone is out there, but your search turns up nothing, leaving you stumped. All the while, the feeling of being watched becomes increasingly worse, to the point you feel like youâre going to throw up if you stay in the bedroom one second longer.
The room is so suffocating, you end up changing in the bathroom next to the master bedroom, and the feeling is only marginally better as you do your nightly routine. By the time you finish, youâre dreading going back into the bedroom, afraid of what might be waiting for you inside. Your friends are still downstairs, and you contemplate grabbing one of them to help you sweep the room one last time before you try and go to sleep, but you donât want to bother them, and you have the feeling that they donât want to talk to you right now anyways.
Sucking in a sharp breath, you steel your nerves and force the door open again, half expecting to see someone standing directly on the other side of the door, but the room is void of any other human life aside from you.
The temperature has gone back down to normal; you note, as you close the door behind you again, and to your relief, you no longer feel like something is watching you. The room is exactly how it was when you woke up this morning, with no indicators that something was ever wrong in the first place.
I must be losing my mind. You think to yourself as you slowly sink back down onto your makeshift bed on the floor, but a small part of you doesnât think that you are. You know for a fact something was behind you in the hallway. Youâre not sure what it was, but you know something was there.
And you know that you werenât imagining those eyes either.
As you lay on the pillows and wait for sleep to take you under, you glance at the dark butsudan in the corner. You donât know what possesses you to say it, but you sigh under your breath as you turn over onto your side so youâre facing the dark cabinet.
âGood night Touya.â
Youâre certainly not expecting a response, but you realize with a jolt how quiet the room has suddenly become. You canât even hear the dull hum of the air conditioner anymore as you slowly look around the dark expanse of the room.
You re-direct your attention to the dark cabinet, when realization suddenly hits you full force. You slowly peel off your blanket and make your way towards the doors. Opening them gently, youâre greeted with the familiar sight of the photograph of the snowy-haired child, frozen forever in time.
You kneel down until youâre eye-level with the picture of the boy. Your eyes trace over his delicate features, taking in the fullness of his cheeks and the soft looking texture of his hair, but youâre hyper-focused on his eyes, more specifically, the particular shade of them. Sure enough, theyâre the same piercing blue as the ones from earlier.
âWhat the fuck?â you breathe, as you lean in for a closer look. âWhat the hell is going on hereââ
âMore then you know.â
Your eyes widen impossibly at the sound of the raspy voice behind you. Before you can even think to scream for help, the feeling of immense fatigue washes over you like a tidal wave, rendering you senseless.
You feel your eyes grow heavy, and roll back against your will no matter how hard you struggle to keep them open. You feel yourself pitch back into unfamiliar arms, and the last thing you remember seeing before you pass out completely, is the metal glint of staples and the same burning eyes staring back down at you from the picture of the small boy.
-----
Dabi catches you before you can hit the floor.
He doesnât bother concealing himself as he watches the consciousness leave your eyes before they dip closed, knowing that you saw him, or at least, whatâs left of him.
He scoops you up and deposits you on his old bed, staring down at you for a moment longer then necessary, before leaving you alone to sleep off his influence.
He allows himself to fade out before reappearing in the gardens just outside the living room, where he can hear your friends talking amongst themselves without a care in the world â completely oblivious to his presence.
He snorts to himself. Heâd fix that soon. Playtime was over, and he was getting bored.
A bored Dabi was a vicious one.
Heâd wait until they went to bed before making himself known. It would give him time to figure out what he wanted to do with you in the meantime.
It was a little ridiculous, honestly. Normally he had no qualms about killing anyone who stepped foot in his house â the long list of people who heâd killed in and around the property was a testament to that â but he had some reservations with you.
You, the first person who had managed to capture his attention since he had become what he is now.
Heâs not sure what exactly drew him to you. Maybe it was your kind disposition, maybe it was because he didnât find you as annoying or clueless as your idiotic friends, or maybe it was because out of all of the people who had come through the house, you were the only one who had bothered to show some shred of respect to his burial shrine, or even bother to learn his past name. Regardless, he could say with certainty that ever since he turned into this, he had never taken in interest in someone as much as he had you.
Heâs still not even sure what he is exactly. Heâs not dead, though his outward appearance might suggest otherwise. His body â as damaged as it is â is still very much solid, and he still ages, though seemingly at a slower rate than before. Heâs not the same thirteen-year-old boy as he was when he was incinerated. Heâs older now, roughly in his mid to late twenties, just like he wouldâve been if he were still alive. A demon is more accurate term to describe what he is; since heâs able to exist in the physical world, and incinerate his victims, turning them into little more than piles of ash. Ironic, the powers he came back with where the same ones that killed him in the first place.
Dabi glances down at his arms, taking in the sight of his scorched, mangled skin, held together by what little of his healthy skin remained with surgical staples, before chuckling to himself as he notes his macabre reflection in a passing window.
He didnât always look like this: a walking corpse with an appetite for destruction and death. Ever since he burned up, this reality has been his life now. But heâs not really living, is he? Heâs not dead, but heâs not exactly alive either. He exists somewhere in between both planes of Earth and Hell.
Touya was dead, but Dabi is very much alive, at least, he thinks so. All it took was for his past self to die â turned to ash and scattered into the wind. At least, thatâs what his family thinks happened to him. In actuality, what really happened was far more gruesome. The memory almost makes him smile.
The fire was hot. He remembers that vividly. He hadnât meant to set Sekoto on fire, he really hadnât. Heâd gone for a walk to escape from his hellish household for a while â The neglect from his father had been getting to him more than normal, so he had gone deep into the forest behind his house to escape for a little while. The air had been dry and the lighter he forgot he had in his pocket had fallen out, igniting the forest around him faster then he could put it out.
He shouldâve died. This much he knows, but for some reason, he didnât. Despite it all, he lived. Heâs not exactly sure how much time passed from when the flames completely engulfed him to when he regained consciousness, but what he does know is that when he woke up again, he was this⌠thing. Half alive, half dead, and full of rage and pure fire. Â
By the time heâd made it back to the house, it was apparent that quite some time had passed, and his family believed him to be dead. They had moved on without him, but the most horrifying realization of all was even though he was gone, nothing had changed in his absence.
His father was still a bastard, and his mother and siblings were still sheep as far as he was concerned.
And that simply wouldnât do.
From then on, he terrorized the house. At first, he was content to simply scare his family; standing in the corners of his siblingâs rooms while they tried to sleep, purposely letting them see him in all of his nightmarish glory, to making things go bump in the night to keep his parents always on edge, never letting them sleep or know a moments peace.
When his father demanded they ignore what was happening (despite the terrified claims of his siblings), he kicked it up a notch.
He started set things on fire randomly, taking sick delight in the panicked screams of his mother and siblings, and the look of dread on his fatherâs face. Heâd destroy the house while his family was out, carving twisted messages on the walls to let them know he was there, cackling as their collective will to try and ignore what was happening began to waver. Finally, when that got boring: he started physically lashing out.
That they couldnât ignore.
He often targeted his youngest brother, Shoto. Not only because he was his fatherâs favourite (and his replacement), but because he often made it too easy for him.
When he had gouged deep, red lines into his brotherâs back for the umpteenth time, it had sent his mother over the edge. She broke â either from the stress caused by his father and her terrified children, or the lack of sleep â and had scalded Shotoâs face, burning him to the point it couldnât be hidden, much to his glee.
She was carted off to an institution shortly afterwards, and his father had packed up his siblings and left the house not long after that, never to return.
The house had sat vacant for a while, leaving him to roam about its halls freely, and even though people occasionally came to see the mansion from time to time with the intention of buying it, they never ended up staying long, as heâd always find a way to chase them off, further souring the manorâs reputation.
For a long time, no one had come to the house, and he had eventually drifted off to sleep in the welcoming darkness, only to be awoken again after an uncertain amount of time by random strangers in his house. From them, he discovered when his father hadnât been able to sell the estate due to its less than stellar reputation, he had decided to rent it out as a guest house in an attempt to bury the truth about what happened all those years ago.
The thought infuriated him.
His father might have been content to try and forget about him, but Dabi was more spiteful then Touya had ever been. Dabi always remembered and never forgave.
If he couldnât take his rage out directly on his father⌠then the cannon folder he sent willingly into the house would have to do.
From then on, he made it his personal mission to burn everything and everyone who set foot in the house, if only so word could get back to his father to let him know that he was still here and still pissed.
Heâs not sure how the old man does it, but every time he ends up killing someone whoâs stupid enough to rent out the house despite its reputation, his father is somehow able to cover it up. Heâs killed well over thirty people at this point (though he stopped counting after thirty-two), and yet they still keep coming â though less frequently than before.
Perhaps itâs his old manâs way of atoning: by sending unaware people into the house so he can take his wrath out on them instead of him. Thereâs no way his father doesnât know itâs him by now. He simply doesnât want to face the monster he created, and is more then content to let other people suffer in his place instead. He always was a coward like that.
His good for nothing father⌠the reason heâs like this in the first placeâ
Dabi hisses irritably to himself. Best not to think about him. It only made him even more homicidal than he already was.
He allows himself to turn to smoke once more, and mist back into the house so he can keep a closer eye on your friends. He watches as they head off to bed, stalking them from the shadows as they settle down in his siblingsâ old rooms for the night, but there would be no sleeping for them tonight, he would make sure of that.
Tonight, he wanted to have a little fun â to shatter the fragile illusion of peace they had created.
Once heâs sure that your friends are mostly asleep, he slithers into the room of the friend who had been so rude to you earlier. He looms over her prone from with a sick grin plastered across his face.
Time to let them know they werenât alone in the house as they thought.
-----
You wake to the sound of blood-curdling screams echoing from down the hall.
It takes your sleep-addled brain a moment to realize that itâs coming from the room your friend claimed as her own, but the moment you do, youâre up and all but running down the hall to the room as her terrified screams get louder and louder.
You call out her name desperately as you stumble into the dark room, flicking on the light as your tired eyes find her thrashing form hopelessly tangled in the sheets on the twin sized mattress. You rip the blankets off of her, calling her name, only to realize her eyes are still tightly shut, but her hands are grabbing at her back, as if sheâs in pain.
You shake her awake violently and her eyes fly open just as your other friends rush into the room behind you. Your friendâs mouth twists open into another scream as she grasps at her back, wailing as she begins to sob unconsolably. Â
âThe man! The man! Did you see him?â She wails as she writhes on the mattress, clawing at the back of her sleep shirt.
âWhat man? What are you talking about?â You ask her as you desperately try to calm her down while she continues to sob.
âHow can you not see him?â she cries unconsolably. âHe was there, he was right there!â she points to the spot where youâre currently kneeling, still in tears. You look around the small space, but aside from you and your friends, thereâs no one else in the room with you. You shoot a bewildered look at your friends who are still crowding the door frame, and they return the look.
âSweetheart, thereâs no one else here.â Your best friend tries to sooth her as she slowly makes her way over to where youâre sitting, and kneels down beside you at the foot of the bed. âYou just had a nightmare, thatâs all.â
âNo, he was real, he was there, I saw him!â your friend bursts into a fresh wave of tears as she curls into a ball. âHe was there, just standing over me with that horrible grin on his face. Oh god, his face!â
âWhat did he look like?â you press. âNo one else has come in or out of the house aside from us! We wouldâve noticed if someone else was here!â The words sound hollow, even to you. You canât help but think of the rough voice you heard earlier before you passed out, and for some reason the unsettling blue eyes from the last two days haunt your thoughts.
Your fears are only confirmed as your friend manages to choke out: âHe had burns all over his face and arms⌠and his eyes⌠they were so blue⌠so, so blue.â
Youâre frozen in place, unable to speak, as your friend finally manages to pull her sleep shirt up, exposing her back. âThatâs not all he did⌠heâhe clawed me. He clawed my back. It hurts so fucking badâŚâ
You peer at her back and feel faint as you take in the sight of five angry red lines running from the top of her back, all the way down to the end of her ribs. The cuts are deep, and some of the marks are slowly oozing blood, as your friend continues to cry.
âWhat the fuck.â You hear your other friend breathe, as she finally makes her way over so she can get a closer look at the marks. âAre⌠are you sure you didnât just scratch yourself in your sleep?â
âThereâs no way she did this to herself.â You mutter as you touch the worst of the marks, feeling your friend flinch under your touch, and muttering a quiet apology to her. âTheyâre too deep to be self-inflicted. She wouldâve woken herself up. Something did this to her.â
âWhat then?â your other friend groans as you retract your hand and pull your still sobbing friendâs shirt back down.
âI donât know!â you snap. âA fucking ghost from the sounds of it.â
âIt was the man⌠the burned man.â Your friend mumbles as her tears finally begin to slow. âHeâs real, he was there, I saw him!â
âWell, whatever he is, heâs not here now.â you mutter, wearily looking around the room. âCâmon. We gotta get you cleaned up. You can sleep with one of us, weâll bring your stuff with you.â
âIâm not sleeping in your room. Not with that thing in there.â Your friend whimpers as your best friend helps her up slowly.
She means the butsudan. You donât blame her for that one. It is pretty unsettling in the dark.
âShe can sleep with me.â Your best friend offers gently as she helps your friend to stand. She gives you and your other friend a pointed look as she slowly ushers your still crying friend out of the room. âKeep an eye out for anything strange. If what sheâs saying is true, then we might not be alone in the house.â
âYeah, sure.â Your friend mutters sullenly beside you as both girls leave the room to go back to your best friendâs room. As soon as theyâre out of sight she gives you a pointed look. âStill think this place isnât haunted?â
âI donât know.â You breathe quietly, as you look around the room one last time. âI seriously donât know.â
None of you end up sleeping through the night.
The incident with your friend set you all on edge, the slightest sounds in the house would wake you up in a panic, looking around for some unseen intruder â only to see nothing, but still feel like there were eyes watching you from somewhere, though you couldnât pin point where from.
Your friends didnât fair much better either, and by the time the first rays of morning sun peaked through the cracks in the blinds, you were already up and so were they.
Breakfast is a quiet affaire. None of you slept much after your friend was attacked, and the bags residing under all of your eyes are telling. Your friend barely says two words the whole time, absentmindedly stirring her tea while lightly touching her back. Your best friend had done her best to clean up the wounds and bandage it, but you could tell it was still bothering her.
You donât even know what to say to her. You donât know what to say to any of your friends. Do you tell them about whatâs been happening to you the last several days? Do you stay silent in order not to worry them any further? You donât know what to do.
Thankfully, you donât have to say anything, because your best friend breaks the silence.
âI think we need to discuss what happened last night.â She says quietly but firmly. She gestures to your still silent friend. âSomething attacked her last night. I donât know what exactly, but I donât think this place is safe to stay in anymore. We were deceived and lied to, and I think itâs best if we find another place to spend the rest of our trip.â
âI agree. You other friend mutters next to you. âI didnât sleep at all last night. I kept hearing you guys whispering and playing on your phones all night long.â
Your brows furrow as you turn to her. âI wasnât on my phone, and I sure as hell wasnât whispering to anyone last night, I was by myself.â
She glances back at you, almost as if she doesnât believe you, before she sends a questioning look at your best friend who also shakes her head, gesturing between her and you friend who has yet to say a word. âWe werenât on our phones either. We were cuddling the whole night, but we werenât talking.â
âAre you sure?â you friend presses harshly. âI kept hearing things last night. It didnât really sound like any of you, but it was really distorted and muffled so I couldnât be sure. I thought you playing on your phones or something.â
âAfter what happened, no. I wanted to be as alert as possible.â You tell her sincerely. âI donât think any of us slept after that.â
âWhat the hellâŚâ you friend mutters, rubbing at her temples. âI definitely heard voices last night. I donât know what they were saying, but they didnât seem happyââ
A sudden sound of shattering glass from upstairs stops what she was saying, causing all four of you to stop and look at each other with wide eyes. Your friend who was clawed suddenly bursts into tears, and hugs her knees to her chest. âFuck this, I donât like it here! I wanna leave!â
âWe will!â you assure her as you slowly get up from your chair. âScrew this place. Weâll stay in a hotel if we have to, and then we can figure something else out from there.â
âWhere are you going?â you best friend asks as you slowly make your way towards the stairs.
âWe have to get our things. We canât just ditch everything here; our passports are upstairs.â You try to reason with her as she follows you to the base of the stairs. âYou three wait down here, Iâll go see what that sound was and Iâll get our things together.â
Your best friend looks like sheâs about to offer to come with you, but you shake your head before she can, and purposely lower your voice as she comes closer to you.
âI think itâs better if you stay down here and keep them calm.â You murmur to her as you quietly admit; âSome weird things have been happening to me since we came here too, but I havenât been physically attacked. Itâs probably better if only one of us goes. If I need you. Iâll call.â
Your best friend opens her mouth like sheâs going to argue with you, but the look you give her makes her relent. She sighs. âIâll give you five minutes to grab the important stuff, then we gotta go. I donât like the feeling Iâm getting from this place now⌠itâs⌠oppressive.â
You know what she means, but you donât comment on it. Instead, you slowly make your way up the wooden steps and onto the second floor.
Itâs eerily silent. Too quiet for it to be considered normal, especially after hearing something breaking. Despite how still the upstairs floor appears to be, the air is charged, almost electric with how much energy is coursing through the air around you. Your best friend was right: it is oppressive up here, more so now than before, and you donât like the shift in energy.
Holding your breath, you creep through the hallway towards the bathroom, the only place you can think of that has glass in it. You donât stop to peer into each of the bedrooms â too scared of what you might be staring back at you â until youâre finally in front of the bathroom door. You push it open gingerly, only to gasp at what awaits you inside.
The large mirror that was previously mounted above the vanity is cracked beyond repair. Large pieces of glass have fallen into the sink, while others are scattered around the counter or on the floor near it. It almost looks like someone punched the glass by how itâs shattered, but you donât see how thatâs possible.
Forgetting your pervious hesitation, you make your way into the bathroom to investigate the damage. You squat down and pick up a large piece of glass near you as you hold it up to your face, and thatâs when you see itâŚ
No, not it. Him.
Towering behind you is a man. Heâs dressed in tattered black clothing from head to toe, save for an ash-stained white t-shirt. His inky black spikes give him the impression of being covered in soot, or having freshly walked out of some dark abyss, but what stands out most to you about his startling appearance, are the scars.
Heâs covered in gnarled, wine-tainted skin, from under his eyes, to his lower jaw, and down his neck from what youâre able to see peeking out from underneath his clothes. The damaged skin is angry and inflamed, held onto what remains of his pale, healthy skin by jarring surgical staples. The silver rings look like they were harshly dug into his mottled skin in a futile attempt to keep him together, and you canât help but wonder if they hurt him, seeing how many he has decorating his patchwork skin.
You gasp as you whip yourself around on your hunches, tossing the broken piece of mirror away from you in your panic, as you scoot backwards until your back hits the opposite wall. Bits of stray glass dig into your palms but you donât dare take your eyes off the stranger.
He grins wickedly at your terror â showcasing white teeth too sharp to be considered normal â as your eyes slowly make their way up his body to rest on his. Your breath hitches as you find yourself staring up into electric blue eyes â the very same ones that had been haunting you since you arrived.
You open your mouth to scream â whether for help, or to warn your friends of the man â before the disturbing smile slips off the manâs face momentarily as he growls at you, âQuiet.â
You feel lightheaded as you hear him speak for the first time. You recognize his voice too. It was the same voice from before you suddenly passed out yesterday. Just how long had he been in the house with you and your friends? Who was he?
Despite your mounting panic, you nod slowly, not wanting to piss the strange man off further, and he rewards you with a small nod, the unnerving smile returning to his face as he stares you down.
He holds a finger up to his two-toned lips. âShh.â He tells you through a grin. âNot a sound, or Iâll burn this fucking house to the ground with you and your friends in it.â
You shake your head frantically, torn between wanting to beg him to spare your friends and you, but not wanting him to act on his promise. Once heâs content youâre not going to scream, he straightens up slightly and takes a slow step towards you, his massive black combat boots crunching the glass underneath it ominously, until heâs directly in front of your trembling form.
He bends down so youâre eye-level with each other and reaches down with one freakishly warm hand, tilting your chin up so youâre looking him directly in his blazing azure irises. âDo you know who I am?â
You shake your head as much as you can without him digging his fingers into your skin.
He snorts. âFigures. Why donât you take a closer look? Youâve seen me before.â
You have no idea what he means, but you hesitantly looking up into his face again. You scan it closely, all the while the man doesnât remove his fingers from under your chin, keeping your head in place as he allows you to examine him. Now that you have a closer look at him, you can see three studs on one side of his nose and several other cartilage piercings lining his burnt ears, as well as the staples holding the scorched skin under his eyes together and the burns lining his lower jaw.
The longer you gaze at him, the more you start to realize that heâs right, you have seen him before. Heâs older now, his hair is onyx instead of white, and his features have changed drastically, but his eyes⌠his eyes havenât changed from the old photo of him in his shrineâ
âTouya.â You breath, causing a smirk to grace the manâs scarred lips.
âThere you go.â He rumbles, tapping your cheek once before straightening back up, finally releasing you from his scorching grip.
âHow?â you whisper, as you reach up to touch your skin., still feeling the searing imprints of where his fingers were on you. âYou⌠youâre dead⌠you diedââ
âNo.â the scarred man shakes his head. âTouya died, but Dabi is still very much alive.â
The bathroom suddenly heats up all around you like a sauna, making you flinch at the sudden change in temperature. You peer at him, taking in his deranged appearance. âYouâre not human⌠are you?â
Dabi only grins wider. âNo.â
âThen what are you?â you whisper, dreading the answer, but needing to know.
The raven-haired manâs smile pulls at the staples near his mouth. He opens his mouth to answer you, only to be interrupted by the sounds of frantic pounding on the bathroom door.
âAre you in there?â you hear you best friend call out from the other side of the door. âYouâre taking way too long! What are you doing?â
âNo! Donât come in! Heâs in hereâ you scream before realizing your mistake. You slap your hand over your mouth, eyes like saucers, as a threatening snarl rips its way out of Touyaâno, Dabiâs throat, as he turns to face the door.
âWhat are you talking about? Whoâs in there?â your best friend yells back. You watch helplessly as the doorknob shakes. âUnlock the door!â
Dabi watches the doorknob rattle some more, before casting a careless look over his shoulder at you. âYour friends are pretty annoying.â He rasps, eyes suddenly cold as ice. âI think Iâve tolerated them enough. Youâre lucky I view you differently. Otherwise, youâd end up the same as what theyâre going to be.â
âStop it! What do you mean? What are you going to do to them?â You sob, completely frozen in your terror, but to your horror he only smirks as one of his scarred hands suddenly erupts into bright blue flames.
Your tears dry in your eyes as you watch the azure flames lick up his flesh and tattered clothing. The cries of your best friend, and the pounding on the door fade away into background noise as your brain struggles to make sense of what youâre seeing.
âYou wanna know what I am?â Dabi rumbles, eyes glinting meanly as he takes in your shaking form. âHereâs your chance.â
âNo donât hurt them!â you wail, as you bolt to your feet. You leap towards him in a desperate attempt to stop him, only to collide into the sink. You look around the small bathroom frantically, but the manâno, the demon is gone. You donât get to ponder how thatâs possible, before you hear a scream from other side of the door. You instantly recognize the cry belonging to your best friend, and you feel your blood turn to ice in your veins at her panicked screams because she sounds absolutely terrified.
You fling yourself towards the door and grasp the handle, jiggling it frantically, before you realize youâre locked in the bathroom from the outside. You pound on the bathroom door, calling out for your best friend to run, but your voice is drowned out by the sound of roaring flames from outside of the door. You feel the wood heat up to insane levels under your palms, and it takes you a moment to realize you canât hear your best friend outside the door any more.
You quickly devolve into hysterical sobs, sinking to the bathroom floor, as you slow, methodical foot-steps walk past the door and down the stairs. You swear you hear the faint screams of your two other friendsâ downstairs, but they fall silent all too soon as well.
You donât know how long youâre stuck in the bathroom for, but eventually, you hear a click from the bathroom handle, signaling that the door had somehow unlocked itself. You slowly push yourself to your feet and shakily open the door, only to let out a blood-curling scream at the sight that awaits you out in the hall.
The hallway is a mess. The walls are blackened, and look like theyâve been ravaged by fire. The air is thick and smoky, making you gag on the ash that floats through the air like gray snow, but the true horror is what lies just outside the bathroom door.
There is a corpse a foot away from the bathroom and you already know itâs your best friend as you take in whatâs left of her. Sheâs burnt so badly that you can barely make out any distinguishable features, much to your horror, but you know itâs her. You rip your eyes away from her as you reach violently â you canât bring yourself to look at her any longer otherwise youâll lose what little of your sanity remains. For some reason you suddenly remember what she told you about the other people whoâd stayed in the house before you and your friends had arrived â how they had met violent, fiery ends themselves â and you know she befell the same fate as them.
You hadnât understood how it had been possible at the time. Now you understood all too well.
You donât even have time to properly morn her, before it occurs to you that you left your other friendsâ downstairs, and you donât know where they are. You choke broken apologies to your dear friend as you stagger away from her, knowing there isnât anything you can do for her now, and force your legs to descend the stairs, dreading what awaits you on the lower level of the house.
The downstairs hasnât fared much better. The air is stagnant and a thick haze of smoke rolls overhead, followed by the potent smell of burnt flesh. The smell gets worse the closer you come to the kitchen, and a fresh wave of tears stings your eyes as you peer overtop of the counter, only to come face to face with two other freshly charred corpses on the other side of it. Just like that, any hope you had of your other friends making it out of the house are shattered, and you know that your friends are no more.
Your legs give out, and you hit the refrigerator hard as you crumple onto the floor. You whimper and shake as you sob into your palms, barely able to process what the hell happened to your friends. The terrifying thing is, you know what happened â or rather â who happened, and you donât know what he is or where he is, and that thought petrifies you.
Almost as if he can sense your thoughts; the air around you heats up to concerning levels, and you know the scarred man is standing directly in front of you. You donât bother looking up, keeping your face buried in your hands as you sob. You donât see much of a point facing him, you already know what heâs going to do to you. You wait for the searing blue flames heâd shown you in the bathroom to tear you apart, much like it did your friends, but blistering heat never comes.
Instead, you hear the manâTouya, Dabiâyouâre not particularly sure what to call him now â huff, before two heated hands slide under your arms and pull you into a standing position much to your protest. You try and push him away, but he only tightens his grip on you as you try and bat at him through your tears.
âYouâyou killed them.â you sob as you try and dislodge his hold on you. âWhy? Why Touya? What did they ever do to you?â
âThey were irritating me. They had to go.â The dark-haired man states plainly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. âSurely you didnât think that your friend was exaggerating when she showed you my houseâs history. I donât like unwelcome guests. Especially annoying ones.â
âOh god you killed all those people.â You cry as your mind flashes back to the extensive history your best friend had shown you of the horrid deaths that had occurred on and around the property. You steel your nerves best you can before you dare to ask your next question: âSo, youâre going to do the same to me arenât you?â
Dabi falls silent at your question, and you feel his hold on you shift slightly as his thumbs rub circles onto your arms in what you assume is a feeble attempt at comfort. âNo.â
âNo?â you echo incredulously through your tears. âWhat do you mean, no? You had no problems murdering my friends. What makes me any different?â
âI donât know.â Dabi hums and you see he wears a thoughtful expression on his scarred face as e takes you in. âI donât know what makes you different from the rest, but you are.â
You donât bother hiding the shudder that makes itâs way up your spine at his choice of words. You donât like what heâs implying, and your stomach twists itself into knots when he utters his next words:
âItâs decided. Iâm going to keep you. Youâre mine.â
You shake your head frantically. âNo.â
Dabi smirks meanly. âYou donât have a choice.â
âI donât belong to you. Iâm not going anywhere with you.â You resume your desperate attempt to get out of his bruising hold on you. âLet go of me right now.â
âI donât think so.â Dabi hisses, smoke pouring out of his mouth, halting your struggle. Your eyes widen impossibly, and the unshed tears in your eyes dry, as you watch the man in front of you start to change before your very eyes.
His haunting blue eyes grow even brighter, and you watch with horror as the part of his chest that isnât covered by his ash-stained shirt starts to glow a frightening blue â almost as if heâs being lit up from inside his body like some sort of demonic jack-o-lantern. You can visibly see heat-waves vibrate the air around you, as his grip on you becomes white hot, to the point that you can feel your skin of your arms being burned into the shape of his hands. Smoke hisses out of the seams in his face as the pyromaniac pins you to the wall behind you, and suddenly all you see is white.
For a horrible second you think youâve died â incinerated to nothing but ash â until you blink and realize the dark figure before you is no more. Instead, you find yourself staring at a white-haired man, dressed in a pale, flowing robe, which you faintly recognize as a traditional burial shroud.
For a second, you allow yourself to forget about the atrocities heâs committed. For a brief moment, he is simply Touya again; a small boy who lived and died all too soon. You donât know how or why he came back as the creature that stands before you, but it doesnât matter anymore. Touya is dead. All that remains is a damaged husk who wears whatâs left of his face.
âWhat the hell?â you gasp as Dabi leans in close to you, grinning manically as he allows you to get a good look at him. Itâs only then that you realize the burns on his face have somehow gotten worse, as well as the ones that mar the visible parts of his body from what you can see under his clothes.
âDo ya get it now?â he rasps, as his eyes adopt a hooded look. âI have powers far beyond what you can imagine. You canât hope to escape from me, so you might as well accept it and submit to me willingly.â
âI donâtââ whatever you were about to say is cut off as the demon roughly smashes his lips onto yours, effectively silencing you, as he pulls you in.
Youâre so disorientated all you can do is let him kiss you. The smell of sulfur that persistently clings to him invades your nose and makes you light-headed. You almost loose your fading grasp of what little remains of your sanity, until the faint smell of burnt meat brings you back to the depressing reality of your situation.
Your friends are dead. Killed by this demonâs wrathful flames. You canât let him do the same to you. You have to get out of here.
Spurred by pure adrenaline, you kiss him back. You feel Dabi reflexively stiffen at your sudden eagerness, before he lets out a pleased nose at the action. His grip lessens on your arms, and you take your chance.
You wrench your arms out of his abnormally warm hands and shove him back from you. Dabi grunts and his eyes narrow dangerously at you as he registers what happened.
âDonât you dareââ he starts, but you donât let him finish his sentence. You bolt to the nearest exit which happens to be the side door that leads out into the backyard. You throw it open and hit the ground running, making a beeline towards the back of the property where the beginning of Sekoto forest starts. You figure if you can get to the woods, youâll be able to hide and eventually find your way to the surrounding town so you can get help. To your horror, the outside world is pitch black, signaling night has fallen. Just how much time had passed since youâd first encountered the demon--?
A rumbling sound followed by an intense blast of heat and the deafening roar of fire has you turning back towards the mansion, only to scream in horror as you watch it erupt into an inferno of bright blue flames.
You fall backwards just on the edge of Sekoto forest as you watch as the manor is consumed by the blaze, only for your eyes to widen in pure fear as a figure emerges from the flames.
Dabi strolls out of the fire unscathed as if heâs taking a leisurely stroll somewhere, and not walking out of hell itself. His fiery blue irises find your frightened ones, and a slow grin spreads itself across his two-toned lips.
âThat was dumb.â He admonishes you. âDo you really think you can escape from me? Just give up now and save yourself the trouble.â
You push yourself back up from off the ground. âNo, Iâm not going anywhere with you. If you want to take me, youâll have to kill me first.â
His grin flickers slightly, and an unkind glint enters his eyes as he regards you cooly. âThat can be arranged.â He rumbles low in his throat as he stalks towards you, moving faster then you thought possible.
You let out a yelp and book it into the dark woods behind you, running away from the inferno that was once a beautiful home, away from your friends, and away from the demon behind it all.
You hear him laugh once, a curt, sharp noise, as you flee into the dense underbrush.
âRun, little mouse.â He calls after you mockingly. âI will catch you, and once I do, youâre mine.â
You hope he wonât make good on that promise.
-----
Which brings you back to the predicament you currently find yourself in.
Youâre still huddled behind the tree, contemplating what to do as you hear Dabiâs raspy voice continue to slowly count down from ten a few feet away from your hiding spot.
At some point you believe he may have set the forest on fire behind him when he entered in an attempt to smoke you out, because the ominous blue glow of his flames seems to be encroaching on your location from all sides, and the smoke in the air is getting progressively thicker, making it harder and harder to breathe.
You have no idea how long youâve been dodging Dabi in the forest for, but dawn looks no closer to arriving then it did when you first escaped from the house. You donât bother concealing your sobs as you cry freely, not knowing what to do.
You were trapped. You didnât see a way out. He had you cornered on all sides, boxing you in.
He had lived up to his promise after all.
You glance up at the canopy of branches above your head, hoping to catch one last look at the stars, but youâre so far into the woods embrace, you canât see their tiny lights.
You force a watery smile on your lips as you prepare to step out from behind the tree and face the pale haired demon.
At least youâd had a little bit of fun during the first part of your trip. You just wish your friends hadnât had to die such pointless, painful deaths. They hadnât deserved that.
You breathe in slowly and take a step out to the side, ready to face Dabi head-on in one last show of defiance, only to realize you donât hear him counting anymore.
You whip your head around the tree to the spot youâd last heard him, only to discover heâs not there.
Your blood turns to ice in your veins as you recall how quickly he was able to move from one place to another, seemingly vanishing before your eyes, only to reappear in a completely different spot. Itâs even more terrifying out in the total darkness of the forest.
The smell of sulfur enters your nose once more, and you turn back around, only to find yourself staring into burning turquoise eyes, surrounded by wine-tinted skin and surgical staples.
You donât even have time to scream before a searing hand wraps itself around your throat, pinning your back to the tree as you gasp, and claw frantically at the charred skin of his forearm. Â
âFound you.â Dabi hisses as he leans in, his eyes mocking as he scolds you. âDid you really think youâd be able to escape from me? Sekoto Peak was my playground when I was alive. I know this forest like the back of my hand. You couldnât possibly hope to escape.â
âG-go to hell.â You sputter out, but he only throws his head back to laugh at your weak insult.
âBeen there, done that. Hell doesnât want me, Doll. They sent me back so I could fuck with my bastard of a father, and the weak, pathetic people he sends to my damn home.â
âSo⌠all those people you killed⌠and my friends and me.â You wheeze, giving up at trying to dislodge his grip from your throat. What was the point anyways?
Something in his rage filled eyes softens as he regards you quietly. His free hand reaches up to trace one of your cheeks absentmindedly.
âNo.â Dabi mutters, almost to himself. âNot you. I donât know what makes you so different than the others that came before you, but I suppose I have an eternity to figure it out.â
A lone tear rolls down your cheek at his words, and he swipes it away before lessening his grip on your throat slightly so he can lean in to kiss you again.
This time, the kiss isnât as rough or demanding as the first one Itâs not tender, or sweet, but you can tell that for the first time in his life, heâs trying to be gentle. In his own warped way.
When he pulls back, he looks away from you to something behind him. You follow his gaze, and you feel your heart fall into the pit of your stomach as you see a black void materialize itself behind him out of thin air.
You donât bother asking what it is. You already know.
You start to tremble violently. Dabi spares you an unreadable look as his scorched hand trails down your arm to grasp you hand tightly, his thumb warming circles on the back of your hand.
âYou donât need anyone else.â He tells you as he pulls away from you, not letting go of you hand. âIâll take care of you from now on. You belong to me, Iâll be the only one you need. Iâll keep you safe.â
âPlease donât do this.â You beg him one more time. Trying to reach out to any remanent of Touya that remained locked away inside of the demon. âYou donât have to do this Touya.â
The white-haired man freezes slightly and spares you a singular glance over his shoulder, and it tells you all you need to know:
Touya is gone. He had been for a long time. All that remains is Dabi, and all he knows how to do is take. There will be no sympathy from him.
âLetâs go home.â He tells you quietly, as he pulls you into the dark void after him.
You regret the day you found that god-forsaken listing.
Breaking News: House Of Horrors Home Burns To The Ground.
Police have deemed blaze suspicious and are still looking for the cause of fire.
Four tourists were staying in the house at the time of arson. All woman in their twenties. So far three bodies have been found and identified. Police are still looking for the fourth woman.
If you have any information about the fire or the whereabouts of the missing woman, please call the non-emergency service number provided below.
#dabi#touya todoroki#dabi x reader#dabi x female reader#dabi x y/n#touya x reader#touya x y/n#demon!dabi#mha#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero acedamia#tw: character death#tw: death#tw: violence#tw: dubious consent#tw: past abuse#self reblog#look at the beautiful banner Kae made me!!#i love it so much đĽşđ
215 notes
¡
View notes
Text
introduction!! đťđ°ď¸
hi!! hello!! i'm kae, formerly located at @send-me-a-kae-via-subspace / @kae-the-minish-bandit! i decided to make a mechanisms-focused sideblog, so as to better organize my blogs.
she/they/it/any neos that sound cool thumbs up
if you want to go to the other fandom blogs i've recently made for organisation,
@waxed-weathered-copper-bulb for minecraft/mcyt
@minish-and-mischief for zelda and linked universe
@too-close-i-cannot-breathe as my magnus archives blog
@aromantic-tom-bombadil for lord of the rings, as well as star wars for some reason
my more personal blogs include:
@anxious-violist for music, both my own as well as covers, reblogs from artists i like, etc
@kaethesilliest for misc reblogs/silly bits about my life!
credits for banners/blinkies:
the nastya one i made :3 you can use it too if you'd like
chaoscouncilcreaturecorner - gear header
organization tags:
for my content !!
#drawn in the light of the tube sun - my art
#verbatim reciting a recording - my fics
#radio turned just write of an evening - textpost
#from the voicebox of another - me singing/speaking
for sorting reblogs !!
#transmission - reblogs
#the stowaways given mortal form - any cosplays
#tales untold - other fics
#artefacts - for photos/ other official band content
#putting the band in a band of immortal pirates - anything to do with the actual music
ouatis tags !!
#brutal and cruel as befitted their despotic foe - ouatis tag
#the genetic base for that unholy horde - og rose tag
#wires through her veins and her tendons - briar rose tag
#the aforementioned unholy horde who i adore - red rose tag
#and as she searched she sang - cinders tag
#mirror mirror let me take this woman's identity - snow/general white tag
#guy who had conquered and stole the wealth of a thousand suns - king cole tag
#12 y/o war criminal - the hood tag
#1003 - tag for miralines/garecc's ouatis 'verse
#dogstar
#red river - tag for my own ouatis au!!!
#the vault - udad tag
#the one who dies at dawn - ulysses
#the blind old motherfucker - oediphs
#the one who turns a big wheel - heracles
#the one who has a dynasty to rebuild - ariadne
#the one with the lyre - orpheys
high noon over camelot tags::
#driving his rotten world into the sun - hnoc
#the fastest draw - gwen !!!!!!!!!!!
#the sharpest aim - lancelot
#the once and future king - arthur
#the one who grew into a sharp young man who chose his name as mordred - mordred! (shocking. i know)
the bifrost incident tags:
#the really fucked up train - bifrost tag
#woman who has at least 5 dissociative disorders - loki
#inspector second class - lyfrassir edda
the mechanisms crew tags!!
#the crew of the starship aurora - what it says on the tin
#microphone eater - jonny dville, humble FIRST MATE
#clockwork murder machine - the toy soldier!!
#icarus kinnie - raphaella!
#neither a baron nor a doctor HOW did you get in here - marius
#ship's archivist - ivy
#the drugbot - brian
#arsonist extrordanaire - ashes oreilly
#shipfucker. princess. engineer. what can't she do - nastya!
#tim comma gunpowder - gptim!!
#flesh moon ship - my beautiful baby girl the aurora
#their esteemed creator - doc carmilla!!!!!!!!!!
#the cello ninja - scuzz :3
these will be updated when i have more tags. also. to look for something i personally have created look through the tags ie #the mechanisms or #cinders ouatis
5 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Ëâ¡⡠About : Prince Akaashi wasn't very fond of the castle's banquets and would much rather spend his evening locked inside his room to read books. But for this particular evening he decided to stay close to the food table where he meets a young lady, bonding over how delicious the cake was, Akaashi doesn't think banquets are all that bad.
Ëâ¡⡠Genre : FLUFF! Royalty AU!
Ëâ¡⡠wc : 1.4k
Ëâ¡⡠a/n : This piece was heavily inspired from Jimin's theme from BTS world, cake waltz was absolutely beautiful I just had to write about it 𼺠also I listened to it over and over while writing đ a-also I think the banner looks pretty đđ
The atmosphere of tonight's banquet was lively, everyone was talking amongst themselves as the orchestra played light music in the background. Akaashi's eyes lazily scan the room as nothing catches his eyes, sighing to himself he heads over to the food table, at least he can distract himself with food he thought.
"Akaashi! Nice party you have here!" He heard someone say, he looks to his right seeing his mighty friend, Bokuto. A prince from the neighboring kingdom, a close friend of his. "It's as nice as it gets, it's the same old routine," He said, taking a spoonful of mashed potatoes, Bokuto does the same. "Well! Maybe tonight's your lucky night? Besides there's plenty of beautiful girls lined up to have you as their prince!" He said, Akaashi didn't know whether that was supposed to cheer him up.
"Oh! By the way, is Prince Kuroo and Kenma coming tonight?" Bokuto asked, "Yeah, they're just running late.. as always," Akaashi rolled his eyes, the ambience didn't seem to change. The crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceilings of their ballroom, the classical music, even the same white coloured tunic that he wears. Same old boring routine, nothing ever happens nor catches his attention. "Hm, say Akaashi, what if you finally find that special someone?" Bokuto absentmindedly asked, "I can't say for sure since, I haven't found them," He said, placing the plate of food down on the table.
As Akaashi looked over the table, there was plenty of cake, ranging from at least 3-6 inches, they were decorated so eloquently, as if it wasn't really for eating but for display. He might as well take the first piece, taking the knife that laid beside the cake, he takes a pretty good chunk of cake. "I'll be back Akaashi, I think Kuroo and Kenma are right outside," Bokuto pats Akaashi shoulder before heading outside the ballroom, leaving Akaashi alone once again.
"So many cakes to choose from, ah! This one looks good," Akaashi looks up as he sees a young lady, nothing like before. She was wearing a light blue dress, layered with petticoats underneath. Akaashi's breath was clearly taken away by her beauty, he had met plenty of women before but it seems like she was the first one he actually seemed to like. Akaashi just had to know her more, "The red velvet is surely the best one out here," He said, pointing his fork towards the freshly cut cake. "Is that so?" You said, tapping your chin. "Well I guess it wouldn't hurt to try," Shrugging as you cut a piece, the cake was perfect, it was soft and moist.
"Well, it's delightful," You said, the raspberry icing really made its way to your taste buds as Akaashi was relieved at your choice of cake. "Shall we taste more cake?" He offered, he certainly did not think this is how his night was gonna go but he didn't complain. "Oh! Shall we try the strawberry shortcake next?" You said, looking at the delectable cake that was standing high and proud. It was topped with white icing, strawberries decorated all around it with occasional strawberry syrup drizzle on the side.
Akaashi didn't answer as he took the knife, slicing her a piece, and then one for him. One bite of the cake and he was hooked, much like you. "It tastes great doesn't it?" You said, your eyes glistening with delight. Akaashi couldn't help but smile, "Yes, yes it does," The peaceful atmosphere you two were in was wrecked as Bokuto, Kuroo alongside Kenma walked back inside the ballroom. "Akaashi! Hey hey hey! I see you're talking to a lady," Bokuto said, wiggling his eyebrows. You've placed your plate of cake down to give the three men a curtsy bow, as they did the same.
"Sorry we were late, some errands in the castle," Kuroo huffed, clearly exhausted from the ride to Akaashi's. "Don't worry, the night had just begun," Akaashi said, reassuring his friend. The music had suddenly switched up, from a lively waltz to a slow and romantic piece. Akaashi's hand itched to grab yours, wanting to dance this waltz with you, he supposed it would be rude to just grab you and force you to dance so he does what any normal person would do, ask you to dance.
As your eyes watched the couple's dance in the middle of the room, Akaashi's figure had blocked it. His white silk gloved hand reaches out to you, "Will you dance this waltz with me?" He asked, clearly flustered. His friends on the side? Shocked. You didn't really believe that the prince would ask you to dance, slowly taking his hand in yours, he pulled you up, carefully placing his right hand onto your waist as the left handled your left hand.
Everyone had moved aside for the prince and his partner, now all the attention was on you two. His movements were slow, easy to follow. "You're a great dancer," He said, "Why thank you," You smiled, the king was probably already making the engagement arrangements. You could hear his friends cheering and howling behind you as Akaashi's ears turn pink, "D-Don't mind them," He stuttered, pretty embarrassed as he twirls you around, catching you again.
Your mind couldn't help but drift off to the cake you had just eaten, "What do you say after this dance let's eat more cake?" You asked, Akaashi seemed fond of that idea. "Yeah, let's do that," He said, the music fading as he lets go of your hand and waist. The normal conversations started to rise again, with the occasional 'Is she gonna be the new queen?' or 'Is that the Prince's date?'
As you two headed back you could see Bokuto's smile, it was wide and ever happy. "Yo! Nice dancing," He said, slapping Akaashi's back, for a prince, Bokuto seems like a chill one. "Nice going prince charming, sweep me off my feet!" Kuroo said, mimicking a fainting motion. "Haha very funny guys," Akaashi rolled his eyes at his friend's antics. "We just came back to grab a piece of cake, I couldn't help it," You laughed, "If you want I could have someone deliver you cake everyday," Akaashi joked but he seemed pretty serious for a joke.
"Hm, not a bad deal prince," You said, "It'd be nicer if the prince delivered it in person, I get to see your face everyday," You smiled, "Yeah Akaashi! It's not like you do much everyday," Bokuto nudged Akaashi, "Very well, I'll have the most delicious cake ready everyday for you. But, I don't even know your name," He said, realizing he never asked you your name. Chuckling, "It's Y/N, Y/N L/N," You said, "What a beautiful name," Akaashi whispered. Bokuto and Kuroo looked at each other, nudging Kenma as he played with whatever device he brought.
"He's absolutely smitten!" Bokuto whispered to Kuroo, "Yeah! It's the first time I've seen him like this!" Kuroo replied.
The time seemed to have slipped by as you and Akaashi had a wonderful time talking. Checking the clock it had already struck midnight, "Oh, I must go," You hurriedly said, not wanting to get in trouble with your parents. "This early?" Akaashi asked, holding your hand. "SâSorry Prince Akaashi, but I must go," You sighed, disappointed that you can't keep talking with him. But you had your hopes in the cake he promised everyday.
"Can I at least see you off?" Akaashi asked, fiddling with his fingers, "Of course," You held his hand as you two walked out the room, Bokuto and Kuroo waved at you goodbye. "It's been fun Prince Akaashi, but I'm afraid this is how far you can go," You said letting go of his hand. "I guess it cannot be helped," He said, trying not to show his disappointment. You decided to surprise him by giving him a kiss on the cheek, "I bid you a good night!" You said, running off down the stairs, you couldn't believe you just stole a kiss from the prince.
Akaashi stood there, dumbfounded as he caressed the cheek you had kissed, your lips still lingering. "Have a good night," He said to no one as you've left, "Well well, I think Prince Akaashi just found his princess," Kuroo snorted, slinging his arm around Akaashi's shoulder. "It seems like I have, what a peculiar girl," He said, he was definitely looking forward to tomorrow, he wants to host another ball tomorrow. Just so he can have his cake waltz with you.
â⡠Love, Kae
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu imagines#hq#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu akaashi#Akaashi x reader#akaashi keiji#akaashi imagines#akaashi fluff#haikyuu fluff
15 notes
¡
View notes