#yandere Natsuo Todoroki

[i-cant-sing]

Just thinking about Yandere Todoroki clan and reader's random moments.

Reader coming home after a particularly bad day, but poor girl cant even cry or complain without everyone immediately overreacting and pulling you out of school/college or even keeping you from going out at all. So now, reader has to either cry in self pity before she enters her home, wipe her tears and fix herself just enough to show that she hadnt just bawled her eyes out moments ago. That, or do the more risky thing and go home, go to your room and cry under the covers, but then theres always the chance of Rei or the others walking in on you any moment.

Also thinking about baby/toddler reader being sick, just a common cold or flu, nothing major. But with reader whining and being so young, the family's infantalisation goes through the roof and theyd treat you as if you were immunocompromised. I wont lie, but I think Rei is almost kinda... glad when you get sick? She enjoys you being dependant on her for the most things, even when you grow up and are able to handle a cold, she still deludes herself into thinking that you need mommy to come and help you.

I think the one person who is most affected by reader getting sick, no matter what age, is Enji. The man just cant help but view you as a fragile, starving Victorian child the moment you fall ill. In his eyes, even a harsh blow of air is too much for a fragile thing like you, let alone something as bad as the flu. He just- he's holding toddler reader in his arms, who snuggles into his warm body, your tiny nose pink and he cant get the image of you crying and vomiting and being oh so feverish- thats just way too much for your small body. Oh how he almost cried when he took you to the doctor for a shot and you clung to him, trying to bury yourself into him as you begged him to make you feel better, cried to him that you didnt want to get the "big scary needle!" He just had to hold you there in his firm grip as you writhed, had to look away when you looked at him and he saw the feeling of betrayal in your eyes, had to keep himself from not strangling the fucking doctor for not being careful, had to walk out of the clinic and hand you to Rei because he couldnt hear you cry anymore, had to have Rei console both you and Enji (assuring him that "no, Enji. Y/n doesnt resent you for making her get a shot.") and he couldnt even sleep a wink that night because he was standing by your bed, holding your tiny hand with his pinky as a tear finally slipped out of his eye.

ALSO thinking about adult reader going out of the house to meet up with friends, except shes meeting up with them at a club instead of at their house like she told Enji and Rei, and now shes standing outside, abandoned by said friends, and shes now running because a group of pervy men are chasing her and she doesnt know who to call, so she just speed dials Shotou, except someone just changed all your speed dials to one number, and you think youre doomed when Shotou doesnt say a word to you and just hangs up when within minutes, someone comes in front of you-

"Dabi?" He tells you to cover your ears and look away, and you know well by know what that means, so you obey, feeling a bit regretful as those men begin to scream in agony. You dont know how long its been until Dabi pulls your hands away and examines your wounds. He lets you crash into his chest as you sob, and this time, Dabi simply decides to take you home quietly without a lecture.

Hmmm, also thinking about Natsuo who is usually cool as a cucumber, the most normal being in the family, except for his very rare episodes of unbridled rage where he suddenly becomes the Hulk. Good thing for you is that this anger is never directed towards you, rather towards people who actively threaten your life (except Rei cause she gets to play "Im your mom who became mentally unstable because of your abusive dad") The only time NAtsuo is stern with you is when it comes to your health. He's just looking at you with those strict eyes when you refuse to take your multivitamins, or dont want to get a flu shot, or try to make up an excuse so that he cant check your vitals. And when he just grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit down so that he can do his checkup, its in those moments that you realise just how strong your brother is... and how easy it may be for him to overpower you and sedate you if he ever followed through Rei's threats.

[black-aurora-nora]

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

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

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

How sad, they all thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The room stilled at the question.

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

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

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

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

You blinked, wondering what he meant by that.

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

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

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

Enji huffed, rising to tower over you.

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

But Enji had planned for this.

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

You swallowed your anxiety down, “Ok.”

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, she wouldn’t.

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

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

You didn’t want to breathe.

What was the point?

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

Your parents sold you off because you were a burden.

What was the point?

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

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

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

Your new parents would help you out.

You’re the baby after all.

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

DAY III. — SOMNOPHILIA (UNDEAD AU)

cw: Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Somnophilia / Non-Con, AU, Mentions of Suicide / Implied Suicide, Forced Cheating, Yandere, Unhealthy Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Uncomfortable Scenarios, General Dark Content Not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Fem! Reader. Reader discretion is advised. 18+ Only!

author's note: The Undead AU is something I coined with one of my friends a long time ago. Basically, it's the idea that you're so madly in love with someone that not even death can contain you. This is dark. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fictional! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

word count: Approximately 1.8k words.

The staircase spirals into a dark abyss. 

Nothing lurks in his way, but he still stumbles despite the odds. His legs drag against the ground, heavy and shifting, and his arm slices out to brace against the wall whenever he takes the first step up. There’s a rattle in his lungs, something hissing but something that whistles like chimes before a storm. His head dips forward, ascending. 

Step by painful step. 

There’s nothing that can stop him now—the stairs settle underneath him, unsure of his weight. His other arm stretches for the opposite wall, fingers hooking in and clawing himself up up up up. He can feel his shoulders pull, the tension and the tendons, and they all start to string together as he tries to breathe, tries to find his breath, and all he can do is groan softly, dusty crumbs of dirt dribbling from his chapped lips. His eyes are bleary, deep brown that dull and fade, nothing but a gray thundercloud in the horizon, something smoky. There’s nothing in his eyes, nothing at all, and he wonders how much longer his trail takes him. He wants it to be over, wants to just reach that heaven and just—

One of his loafers slips against the staircase whenever he mounts the floor. He nearly trips and falls, head rolling on its shoulders and he can feel the bones crack and break as his head snaps around in half. Everything spins in some mock dizzy, and the staircase seems taller than it was moments ago. He could have fallen—could have died. Again. Again again again. He swallows before his hands grab ahold of his head and pop it back into place. The pop of his neck draws another groan from his somber body, so he takes a pause. Waits, staring into the darkness of the hallway. 

He slips inside of the ink. 

It’s unfair. It’s always been unfair. His fingers twitch and close, and he’s slitting his eyes the longer he walks. Why did it have to be unfair? It doesn’t make sense. None of it did. He stumbles, again, and then his shoulder slams and bounces off of the wall before he rests against it and growls, a revving motor. He uses the wall as a crutch for the rest of his journey, until his hand reaches forward and brushes against a doorframe. Here. Yes, perfect. This is great. All he has to do is open it—just drop his hand until his fingers find that knob, twist, slow and easy, and then push. 

His heart is still as night, but he swears that blood, adrenaline, and excitement is coursing through his veins. The door is no longer a threat. He looms in the threshold before he crosses, his eyes illuminated by the beacon of light before him. 

You. 

Yes, it’s you. Oh, it’s really you. And you’re by yourself tonight. Oh, so perfect. Too perfect. 

He can feel this jittery thrush in his body, the wings of a hummingbird, and he never wants to come down, never wants to let his feet touch the ground the more he flutters and flies. A grin starts to push against one corner of his mouth before he lumbers forward, growing heavier by the moment. Of course, you would be alone in your apartment—he’s not really allowed to leave home now, is he? He just feels so happy, can feel this pulse in his fingertips. Like an open wound, opening and gaping, and he stands at the foot of your bed. You’re just as beautiful as he remembers—before he died. Can someone become even prettier after death? Surely, yes. He tries to laugh, but nothing but stuttered air comes forth. It’s alright. That doesn’t matter right now. He gets closer, hovering right over your unconscious body. Would you scream if you woke up and saw his rotting features? Would you scream if you saw the maggots inside of his mouth, eyes, and nose? Would you scream if you saw the smears of black graveyard dirt across the bridge of his nose? Would you? 

None of that matters now, not whenever his knees press against the edge of the mattress before he bends forward and starts to lay his palms flat across its surface before he starts to crawl towards you. He’s always wanted to do this! He’s always wanted to know what it would be like to crawl into bed with you after a long and strenuous day, in dire need of love and comfort. He never had the chance. Too slow, or something. Or just unfortunate. He never wanted to tell you—was too afraid to confess to you, not after everything that happened. He just thought it would be easier if you never returned his feelings—would be easier if you didn’t have to deal with the aftershocks of it all, 

but then you fell for his brother. 

“Touya-niiiiiii…” 

Whispers of darkness and tangles of vines leave his mouth as he starts to pant, shifting one of his arms up and over your legs before he awkwardly bumbles further up your body. Has Touya done this to you? He wonders, but the thought makes the hollow cavity in his body twist. Probably. He doesn’t want to know. Why did Touya fall in love with you, too? His chest breaches over your hips, shuffling closer, and then his body ensconced yours. He’s empty, but he feels so so so so soooo full whenever he glances down at your body, at the way your shoulders rise and fall with each and every one of your gentle breaths. He lowers himself, letting his chest brush against your back. You’re so warm, very warm. The ice in his body creaks, but never melts, but it’s okay okay okay, because it won’t matter for very much longer. He’s a lover, he’ll be your lover, and he’ll have you. This is how it was destined to be—yes, indeed. 

It doesn’t matter if Touya has to stay at home until he dies! It doesn’t matter if you can never marry him because of his name, his reputation, his history! It doesn’t matter that Natsuo committed suicide! None of that matters—the only thing that matters right now is how his arms close in on your body and his hands find homes around your wrists. 

Natsuo feels like he could just explode, that he could just look up to the sky with joy tickling in his pupils before he pops like a flimsy bubble. Surely this must mean something? Right? Right? He couldn’t handle it all—couldn’t handle the weight of everything he’d been through only for his last hope, his you, to be ripped away from him. It was so unfair, truly, and death was better than that. Better than this. But this has to mean something! He’s alive—not breathing—but here with you, on top of you, and he starts to let his head spin before his body moves. His hips slink before he starts to oscillate them against yours. The bed shifts a little whenever he picks up his pace, but Natsuo just lets his gaze follow the way your body bounces against his movements. Breathless doesn’t matter, not whenever he can trail his palms down your arms so he can cradle your body, can let one of his hands slither underneath a breast and squeeze. 

Ohhh, oohhh, what is wrong with him? Why does he feel so lightheaded? Why is everything he does getting harder? Natsuo can barely think. He wishes it didn’t have to be this way—he wishes he was alive, in bed with you, right against you and making love to you so passionately that your moans peak and sing into his head. There’s this distinct need to cry, but no tears arrive. Does Touya cry whenever you have sex with him? Natsuo doesn’t want to think about it. He must. You’re so worth it—that’s why it drove him crazy, why Natsuo couldn’t handle it whenever you told Touya that you loved him despite everything. 

A throb flicks his stomach before it laps down to his groin. His cock is hard, he thinks, but Natsuo can’t think farther than just grinding against you, seeking friction and satisfaction. He wants to make love to you, he really does. He can. He will. Natsuo squeezes your breast one last time before he continues wriggling his hand down your stomach until his fingertips reach your mound. It’s hard to maneuver, so he starts to tilt you until he can press against your clit. 

You start to groan, and it feels like a mellow guitar riff, something constant and thrumming, and he can hear the subtle pounding of drums in his head. Natsuo wonders if he’ll stay conscious enough to get you off. He has to, he needs to. Your groan shifts into a moan before your head moves against your pillow, and the sound entices Natsuo to pick up his speed. The circles against your clit grow desperate, jerking motions that make your thighs shift and stick together. Your body stretches out, back arching until you fit against his chest better. Your moans start to become a little more coherent, and he can hear you, can hear the muttered words to keep going, to go faster, yeah, like that, just like that, right there, there there there there. He starts to smile. 

“Nothing… nothing can…” 

Your head lifts a little, and your breathing changes. You’re waking up, oh, yes, you’re waking up. Natsuo’s rigor renews again, lighter fluid to a bonfire. Your head starts to tilt. 

“Yeah. Nothing can keep me away from…” 

Your head turns, little by little, and Natsuo lets his lean to the side. 

“You. Nothing. I’ll always love… I’ll always love you…” 

Your wide eyes meet his murky ones, a distinct lightning of terror splitting across your features before your face draws back a little. 

“Even in death. Yeah. I’ll love you. I love you so much that… that not even…” 

Natsuo starts to lose his balance, but he keeps scrubbing his fingers against your clit as he starts to crumble into your neck, starts to get closer to your face, your warmth breath fanning across his sickly skin, lips whiskers apart. 

“Not even death can keep me away from you.” 

Your breathing picks up, and he can feel the scream in your throat before it happens. 

“Don’t scream, why are you…” 

Natsuo doesn’t finish his statement before he slams his lips against yours, drinking in the scream that vibrates his teeth. He stays there, basking in your sound and heat, eyes open and lurking into your own. 

“I just 

love 

you 

so 

much.” 

[yepperoniro]

New fucked 3am idea.

Yandere Todoroki Family x youngest Fem Todoroki reader or oc whatever.

Warning Incest and Platonic Yanderes present.

Firstly, Y/N or Yen was born 8 months after Shoto. And she also has the half cold half hot quirk. [Because I'm so creative right @@]

anyway...

Because Shoto existed and was male, Enji didn't pay anymore attention to her than he did any of his other non-shoto kids. That was until one night at dinner when Yen called Toya Daddy. After this, Enji cared. But like Too Fucking much. He became super protective and overbearing. And rest in peace, Toya and Rei [not literally doe] that night because guess who was getting punished for Yen's mistake. And when Yen started growing into her body, things went from bad to worse for her as Enji's overprotective and overbearing became covertly perverse. Bathing with Yen choosing what she wears. When Rei confronted him about this... she was punished for even thinking it was possible. Enji isn't stupid or delusional, though he knows doing anything directly to her would be wrong, so he doesn't, but he does fantasize.

Rei's relationship with Yen is complicated at best. She is Platonic Yandere for her absolutely. She doesn't let Yen learn how to use her quirk because it could harm her. [Enji support this decision] However, most of Rei's punishments once Enji cared about Yen are Yens fault. Yen made a new friend Rei was getting punished. She kinda has been sneakily feeding Yen herbal anti-quirk remedies. [Enji didn't notice this one, though.. just assuming her weakness comes from the lack of training with her quirk.] She knows about Enji's feelings, having heard him moan their daughters name while he yanks it. But she's too afraid to say anything, thinking he might act on his feelings if anyone knew about them.

Dabi / Toya has the second most fucked relationship with Yen. As said before, Yen saw him as her father figure even though they were only 11 years apart. He sympathizes with her the most she was what father wanted but still wasn't enough. She was only 2 when he ran off, but he was still uncomfortably attached to her. Outsiders who would see photos of the two together would always raise an eyebrow. Why is his hand there as he's holding her up. After he woke up from his coma, he became more stalkery towards his family as a whole, but his sister was the most of all. He even became her only friend [Much to Rei's dismay.] in the form of a pin pal. He absolutely never ever put her in any danger. Ever. Even if it would hurt Enji the most, he couldn't handle that. When he blew the whistle on his abusive family, he pointed out the pedophic incestuous relationship his dad has with Yen. He even accused his mom of knowing and supporting his vulgarities to lessen her own abuse. [This was Rei's biggest fear]

Fuyumi isn't Yandere, not even Platonic yandere. She's just obvious. 100% obvious to her only sisters suffering. She knows dad is more protective of her, but she doesn't see the incest. Or the yandere. She also downplays alot of the abuse. But that's with all of the abuse. Not just Yens.

Natsuo is a Platonic yandere who actually has Yens happiness and health in mind incomparasson to the rest of his yandere family members who are all selfish to some extent. And he is, too. To some extent. [ You'll see in a bit.] He is the only one who is fully aware of all of his families yandereness. When the video came out his response was 'pot calling the kettle big brother what the fuck.' He knows that his mom is poisoning Yen but he doesn't know how and what to do about it. But he knows it's happening. He also knows about Shotos' actions and was very very very supportive of him going off to school and leaving. He regularly invites Yen to play games in his room until she falls asleep and he let's her sleep in his room. He does this to protect her from Shoto.

Last but certainly not least Shoto. He has a love-hate relationship with Yen except with yandere and incest. He is the only one who is physical with her, which is awful but good because at least only one of them is. He and her went through puberty around the same time, so he experimented on her often. Due to them having the same quirk, sometimes he reflects on her, and when he's having a bad day with his quirk, he punishes her for it. He is the only one who actually spanks Yen, but it is never when she needs it. Only when he decided she needed it.

Other things that happened in this au.

When the video came out, instead of bringing everyone together, it did the opposite. Rei being fearful of her youngest daughters virginity [she doesn't have because Shoto. But Rei doesn't know that] tries to run away with Yen. She doesn't get to far because Natsuo who knows about everything and is like 'um no fuck that. you've been poisoning her somehow. You can't be trusted either, and so he takes his baby sister from his mom.

Rei demands a divorce, and she is granted one once the video is released. Enji falls into an intense depression because of his wife leaving and taking his baby girl. And now the world knows about his darkest secret, and no one is supporting him. And because no one in this UN has a PR person, all are under the impression he is a child predator, which he kinda is if your his daughter [which you are oof.] Once the divorce goes through Natsuo takes his mom to court to demand custody of Yen because the poisoning... while all this is happening, Dabi has been secretly planning on kidnapping Yen.

Dabi has a Daddy kink for Yen. So does Enji, but ironically, she never calls him daddy only ever Enji or 'dever.

... there is the 3am Idea. Watch me regret posting this when I wake up for work tomorrow.

[artemis32]

Transilience iii

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

word count - 10.1k

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

mbe masterlist

transilience masterlist

Dabi was… different.

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

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

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

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

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

If he cared, Dabi never said anything. 

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

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

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

They wouldn’t look at you. 

They wouldn’t talk to you. 

Nothing. 

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes he would speak, but those days were rare.

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

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

Dabi’s visits were even rarer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug, still staring.

“That depends.”

He huffs. “On what?”

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

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

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

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

Unsurprisingly, your request had been denied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He says nothing, staring at you for a moment.

“Please?” you ask – no, you plead.

He rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

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

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

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

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

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

“No! No, I’ll look.”

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

“A… burger?”

Indeed.

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

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

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

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

“What’s this about?” 

“Huh?”

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

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

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

He rolls his eyes.

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

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

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

“Cross my heart. Come on, eat up.”

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

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

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

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

“Okay, let’s go.”

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

“For your damn walk, what else?”

“Now?” you ask, mouth open in shock.

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

“Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You stand and trail after him.

****

“Still nothing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The mighty Endeavour did have a heart after all.

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

“I–” his voice cracks.

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

“Hawks, please, be honest.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

“Left here.”

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

You chance a glance over your shoulder.

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

“What a dumb question.”

You splutter out in indignation.

“Hey, it’s not a dumb question!”

He hums, staring at the ceiling.

“Take a right.”

You do, waiting in silence for his response.

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

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

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

You pause. 

“Sounds boring,” you say with a shrug.

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

“Keep walking.”

You walk past a familiar looking door.

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

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

You nod in apology, eyes lingering on the door.

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

Shigaraki and his touch.

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

Dabi. 

Touya.

The mark seared onto your shoulder.

You shiver again, though not from the cold.

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

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

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

But would you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes.

They were one and the same.

Your father, your siblings – your mother.

Everything about them shunned your existence. 

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

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

Thinking about it - them - got you nowhere.

Your family.

Family. 

The word didn’t exactly fit.

The League… They treated you similarly.

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

Dabi – he was the epitome of both.

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

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

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

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

When did it get this cold?

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

He tuts at you.

“Pay attention.”

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

You stiffen up.

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

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

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

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

Or, it should be. 

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

You hated it when people touched you.

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

Had he lied to you?

Stupid question.

Of course he lied to you.

You turn to glare at him, heart pounding wildly.

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

He rolls his eyes.

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

“Keep walking.”

****

You hardly dared to breathe.

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

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

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

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

Wasn’t he–?

Hawks.

The pro-hero Hawks.

Wasn’t Hawks a hero? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dabi. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tomura’s new experiment.”

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

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

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

“What? Did that hurt your feelings?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t. 

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

He leaves just as silently and quickly as he arrived.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

Sakura.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you didn’t notice her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

Endeavour’s jaw tightens. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Before the situation can escalate further, Fuyumi intervenes.

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

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

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

“Find her, or we will.”

****

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

“Hey, wake up– Wake up.”

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

Hawks.

“Wha-? What’s going on?” 

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

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

“We’re leaving. Now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

“She’s gone.”

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

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

The group looks to Shigaraki, waiting for his reaction. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you know about this?”

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

His gaze flits momentarily to Hawks, narrowing.

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

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

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

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

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

“Find her.”

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe you’d be an orphan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The golden child. 

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

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

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

Perhaps things would have been different.

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

The picture is blank and fuzzy.

You can’t imagine such a world.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some time passes before he speaks.

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

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

Would his expression have told you what he was thinking?

You’d never know.

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

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

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

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

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe not.

****

“There’s been a… development.”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe consider allowing your kids to help?”

He shows his palms again before Endeavour can interject.

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

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

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

****

Keigo was surprisingly wealthy. 

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

But the blatant decadence of his apartment shocked you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You feeling better?”

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

“...yeah. Much.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I– Can I go home now?”

Home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The words die out on your tongue. 

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

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

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

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

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

Keigo was offering you a choice.

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

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

“I’ll stay.”

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

It’s so cold in here.

“Wonderful.”

[thot-farm]

I am a fan of domestic yandere Todorokis. So, reader is Shoto's twin sister. I like the idea that they are the complete opposite of Touya in every way, including quirk. Keeps their head down in the house, tries not to be in anyone's way, and makes sure to do chores, struggles to talk, has a frost quirk more powerful than Rei's, but flame resistant instead of cold resistant.

Base headcanons before story

Enji: The chillest in most cases, since you keep your head down he doesn't worry. Like hell he would ever let you out of the nest, but he doesn't plan to hamper anything you choose to do beyond that and using your quirk. He is too focused on Shoto to mind you.

Touya: He honestly couldn't care less (outwardly) about you and most of the time forgets about you, he is too focused on his resentment of Shoto and trying to get his father's attention. And unfortunately, if you are fem, you might catch some strays from him, especially if you mess up a chore, get in his way, take too long in the bathroom. If you are masc, he pretty much forgets about you unless he has to interact with you. But he still steps up to take care of you at times when Rei isn't, he talks shit the entire time he does it though.

Fuyumi: She loves spending time with you. She was glad she had another girl to relate to in the house. She is one of the more protective ones of you because she is actually around you. Had a rough day? She will hug and smooch you. Touya said something mean or misogynistic? Cuddles and smooches. They played too rough? She will comfort you and distract you as Natsuo patches you up and cleans your wounds or scrapes.

Natsuo: He isn't overly anything, he is a big brother and he acts like it. He teases, he scolds, he protects you when you need to. He is usually the one patching up wounds. Knowing you can't use icepacks, he will help you find alternative ways, if you get a bruise or pain with a joint, he will wait for the swelling to go down and help you with the heat pack, even though he has to use kitchen mitts to even touch the heat pack.

Rei: she tries her best, she tries to keep you away from Touya because she doesn't trust him or his thoughts at all and tries to give you attention, but she can't help when Enji starts to train Shoto more, she finds herself paying more attention to them to try and keep Shoto from being hurt too much, and she slowly is getting more and more distant.

Shoto: He has always had some yandere tendencies. He only gets to see you at school when he goes and when Enji isn't home. He rarely talks to you, but he likes to be near you. You are on the couch? He is on the couch. You are studying in your room? He makes sure to be around in case you need 'help' (he writes the answer for you, sometimes even just taking your homework away from you). The bathroom... he probably would if he could.

Uh I'll come back at some point come back to continue this.

(I'm sorry for forgetting to link the posts after I write 😭🙏)

Part two ♡

Part three

Part four

Ao3 link

[ao3feed-hawks]

Family Reunion Incomplete

Family Reunion Incomplete by Arceus Insanity

Dabi wants his family back safe and sound with him and his mate, too bad they keep assuming the worse. Oh well, he has the patience to play their little game of hide and seek.

Words: 1722, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Big Kid Privileges

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Takami Keigo | Hawks, Todoroki Natsuo, Todoroki Rei, Toga Himiko

Relationships: Dabi | Todoroki Touya/Takami Keigo | Hawks, Dabi | Todoroki Touya & Todoroki Natsuo, Dabi | Todoroki Touya & Todoroki Rei

Additional Tags: Kidnapping, Kidnapped Todoroki Natsuo, Kidnapped Todoroki Rei, Todoroki Natsuo Needs a Hug, Medical Student Todoroki Natsuo, Dabi is a Todoroki, Protective Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Dabi | Todoroki Touya-centric, Yandere, Platonic Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Protective Takami Keigo | Hawks, Takami Keigo | Hawks Acts Like a Bird, Villain Takami Keigo | Hawks, Overprotective Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Mentioned Hikiishi Kenji | Magne, Hide and Seek

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45007585

[yanderelionwrites]

MHA Yandere Lists: Showering

(This has been sitting in my google docs for FOREVER, it's kind of old)

Content Warning: yandere, suggestive themes, invasion of privacy, mention of kidnapping

The yanderes who absolutely insist on bathing or showering with you. Rarely will they let you bathe by yourself, so you might as well get used to it as soon as possible. Why wouldn’t you want them there with you? They take such good care of you, treating you like royalty. They’ll be extra gentle when washing your hair, only using the best of products to make sure it comes out nice and soft. They’re eager to wash your body too. They love seeing the soap suds cover your skin, and will pepper kisses all over your neck and shoulders while you two relax in the tub ❤️

| DENKI KAMINARI, HAWKS, Mina Ashido, MIRIO TOGATA, Nejire Hado, Present Mic, Re-Destro, Twice

The ones who respect your boundaries and let you bathe alone. While they desperately want to join you, they understand that this is something you want to do by yourself. When you’re done, they’ll blow dry your hair and brush it for you, if you let them. They just want you to be comfortable with them and to love them, and they know forcing you will not help. They will be over the moon if you ask them to join you though 💕

| ALL MIGHT, EIJIRO KIRISHIMA, FAT GUM, Fumikage Tokoyami, Hitoshi Shinso, IZUKU MIDORIYA, Kyouka Jiro, Mezo Shoji, Momo Yaoyorozu, Mr. Compress, Natsuo Todoroki, Ochako Uraraka, Sero Hanta, Shota Aizawa, SHOTO TODOROKI, Spinner, Tamaki Amajiki, TENYA IIDA, Tsuyu Asui

The ones who just walk in unprompted 💀 You’ll be minding your own business trying to clean yourself and then suddenly this asshole pulls back the curtain and hops in, no fucks given. It’s their bathroom anyway, so you have no right to complain. Scream and shout all you want but they’re not leaving. They’re so nonchalant about it too, they’ll just look at you with a smirk and be like “What?” Bastards 😤

| DABI, Endeavor, HAWKS, HIMIKO TOGA, KATSUKI BAKUGO, MIDNIGHT, Mirko, Tomura Shigaraki, Twice

[i-cant-sing]

I was thinking about Synthesia (where people can see colors when they hear music) and I was like "hmm, girl them people would not survive in old times when everyone slapped "witch" and "devil worshipper" when they couldn't explain something scientific" and then my head went- 💡💡💡

What if pastor Enji Todoroki and his family, who are firm religion preachers and practically control the town (and who lives or dies, merely based on rumors and allegations), have a daughter reader who has synthesia or something scientific that was inexplicable at the time, and since reader was raised in this cult/preacher family to be the perfect angelic girl- can u imagine the distress she goes through when she realises that she has "blasphemous abilities" that others don't?

So now this could go 2 ways:

1. Reader bawls her eyes out and the family is like???????? WHATS WRONG BABY GIRL??? and when reader tells them, they all unanimously agree to hide you and your "abilities" from the rest of town (which consists of some people who hate the Todoroki clan for killing their loved ones and are not about to take hypocrisy).

2. Todoroki clan convinces reader that these are not "blasphemous abilities" and that she isn't a "devil worshipper" but actually she is a Saint/deity that needs to be worshipped and here's comes Todoroki clan brainwashing the town to join the cult.

3. Reader runs for her life because she doesn't want her dad to kill her, only for the Todoroki clan (Dabi is having the time of his life chasing u) to hunt her down weeks later and drag her back home where she's now locked away from the world and start the process of "curing you".

And we all know what happens when Rei decides to take your "healing" upon herself...

[black-aurora-nora]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your seat was still empty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After dinner, Fuyumi took you to the shower room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rei burst into the room.

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

You flinched at the word.

Mama.

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

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

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

After an awkward goodnight, she left your room disheartened.

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

Rei flinched back, “I jus-“

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

“No, Enji, I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

Taglist:

@yumuramma

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

ST. CHISAKI'S KINKTOBER 2024

Listed below are the prompts. Peruse these and be mindful of the tags on each individual fic—reader discretion is advised. Some of these fics feature extremely dark and disturbing content. They are not meant to be a healthy depiction nor are they meant to romanticize these topics—they are horror stories and strictly fictional. Please do not let these fics and the content featured within them shape your perception of a healthy relationship and sex life. Remember, consent is the most important factor—and these things need to stay completely fictional. Do not force yourself to read or view the content if you are uncomfortable. 18+ Only!

Warning: The fics with the alchemical symbol feature extremely dark and disturbing content.

I. Foreplay/Kissing (Love Hotel)—Shinsou Hitoshi

II. Cockwarming/Begging—Yamada Hizashi 🜍

III. Somnophilia (Undead AU)—Todoroki Natsuo 🜍

IV. First Time (Student AU)—Todoroki Shouto

V. Emetophilia—Todoroki Touya 🜍

VI. Worship—Tokoyami Fumikage

VII. Roleplay—Iida Tenya

VIII. Fingering—Chisaki Kai 🜍

IX. Forced Orgasm—Chisaki Kai 🜍

X. Orgasm Denial—Sero Hanta

XI. Breeding/Non-Con (Cabin in the Woods AU)—Takami Keigo 🜍

XII. Hand Holding (During Sex)—Midoriya Izuku

XIII. Overstimulation—Chisaki Kai 🜍

XIV. Predator/Prey—Todoroki Touya and Chisaki Kai 🜍

XV. Menophilia—Akaguro Chizome

XVI. Ice Bath—Todoroki Touya 🜍

XVII. Masturbation—Chisaki Kai 🜍

XVIII. Wet Dream—Chisaki Kai 🜍

XIX. Face-Sitting—Rappa Kendou

XX. Body Modification—Todoroki Touya 🜍

XXI. Self-Harm—Chisaki Kai 🜍

XXII. Exhibitionism—Monoma Neito

XXIII. Cannibalism (Trickster AU)—Todoroki Touya 🜍

XXIV. Sensory Deprivation—Chisaki Kai 🜍

XXV. Power Imbalance—Chisaki Kai 🜍

XXVI. Threesome (Guardian Angel/Fallen Cherub Au)—Todoroki Touya and Chisaki Kai 🜍

XXVII. Dry Humping—Todoroki Touya

XXVIII. Dacryphilia—Chisaki Kai 🜍

XXIX. Evil Twin—Todoroki Touya and Chisaki Kai 🜍

XXX. Claustrophilia—Kurono Hari 🜍

XXXI. Yandere—Chisaki Kai 🜍

[thefiery-phoenix]

PLATONIC YANDERE TODOROKI FAMILY HEADCANONS

You are the youngest sibling and they are INSANELY OVERPROTECTIVE of you 

They won't micro chip you and all that shit, but... for your safety, they will insert bugs in almost ALL of your electronics for your safety, of course. They don't want their youngest sibling/child to be in any danger now, do they?

Rei likes braiding your hair and Fuyumi likes dressing you up which by the way, she thinks looks ADORABLE on you 

Natsuo sometimes gives you shoulder massages while eating and Dabi/Touya likes feeding his youngest sibling. The brothers think that you're a delicate precious little angel that needs constant attention or they'd get themselves injured

The whole family loves to SPOIL you to death 

Shoto would be breathing down your neck every second of the day he can; sitting close to you or holding your hand whenever he can

If you're angry about something, say, you didn't win something though you've worked really hard for it? Surprise, surprise! You're now the winner of whatever contest you've recently entered. Someone making fun of you constantly? Bones will be broken and NONE of them will be from YOUR family 

Believe it or not, Endeavor actually has a soft spot for you. He NEVER yelled at you, nor did he ever raise his voice at you, like AT ALL (Lol, I can't believe I'm writing this since I know this ain't gonna be true but put up with me peeps)

When Enji's not around, and you're throwing one of your tantrums, big brother Touya will come to calm you down. And you do. At the sight of his music playlist (Which btw the ENTIRE family has composed ESPECIALLY for you WITHOUT any cuss words. They don't want their baby cussing)

No one cusses while you're around 

However 2 things are off the table for you. One, no hanging out with boys other than your brothers. If you are spotted hanging around them, well... they can say goodbye to a couple of bones and you'll get your favorite things taken away from you by Enji and Rei though it breaks everyone's heart to see you pout and sulk and cry, they have no choice to do it. It's for your OWN good you know and two, NO going ANYWHERE without one of them being there to supervise you. Who knows what sort of trouble you'll get yourself into and after all, the outside world isn't safe for an innocent precious naive angel like you 

One day, you and Touya had gone to a concert since your favorite band had come to town. You guys had left in the morning and returned just before dinner. Enji and Rei were getting anxious about where your brother had taken you for so long. Fuyumi and Natsuo were texting Shotou back and forth about you, but he only told them that they will be returning soon and Shoto was repeatedly calling you but you didn't answer since you put your phone on silent. Since that day, Enji and Rei didn't let you go out for concerts IF you didn't place your phone on silent AND ANOTHER sibling of yours had to be around you the next time you were alone with Touya

Natsuo once saw you cut yourself accidentally while cutting some vegetables. After that you weren't allowed to be in the kitchen while Rei was cooking and BOOM, what a shocker, the ENTIRE FREAKING house was baby proofed as well (good luck)

They might ''accidentally'' hurt you just to keep you 'safe' at home. Why go out where there are SO MANY dangers when your family can protect you from them? Besides, it doesn't matter if you ran to Enji to escape them. Sure he could keep them away from you for some time, but he's a pro hero that's needed in the country every day. So once Enji's out of the house, they'll have to lecture how how being a tattletale isn't good for you

Like I said before, INSANELY POSSESSIVE and OVERPROTECTIVE ASF

[artemis32]

Transilience II

Yandere Todoroki family x reader

Eventually huh?? this took forever but are any of us actually surprised :))

I’m not really all that happy with this but oh well, enjoy

word count - 11.3k

****

tw: mentions of past child neglect, panic attacks, abuse, stalking, kidnapping, the whole family is literally their own tw (they’re horrible but i love them)

****

part I

bnha masterlist

****

****

A part of you, however miniscule, wished you’d remained unconscious - for another month at least.

That would be better than having to sit through what must have been the hundredth police interview you’d had since waking up. They were never-ending - as soon as the doctors had cleared you and allowed more than two visitors at a time, they’d been flowing through the door as if drawn to you.

You supposed that it was necessary, you just wished that they would stop asking you the same three questions.

Did you see anything strange before you were taken? Yes, a bright light.

Do you remember their faces? No, I was unconscious.

How did you develop a quirk? 

That last question annoyed you the most. How were you supposed to know how you magically developed a quirk? Honestly, it was ridiculous - they asked you a question, you answered truthfully, but they wouldn’t leave you alone.

Regardless, you were looking forward to being released. Not that you were overly eager to return home, especially since you were unsure of what awaited you. You just wanted to be back in a more familiar environment - one that didn’t have people flowing in and out as they pleased.

Though now that you had a quirk, there had been mentions of keeping you under surveillance for a while longer. While you understood their concerns, you were already irritable enough from having people in your space at all hours of the day. Any longer and you might well lose your mind.

Ironically enough, that was what everyone had been trying to avoid.

Having a quirk was incredible, but having developed it so late in your life, you had less control over it than a child would, especially since it wasn’t exactly natural - or at least that’s what the doctors had been telling you.

Besides mentioning that you should be kept under surveillance, there had been no mention of exactly who would be watching you. 

You didn’t want to know, but you were sure that they wouldn’t grant you the kindness of ignorance.

****

Returning home wasn’t as exciting as you’d thought it would be.

It wasn’t as if you were expecting a welcoming party. You weren’t even expecting anyone to be home. But you thought something might have changed. Any change, even a negative one, would have been better than everything remaining exactly the same.

You dumped your bag on the floor as soon as you stepped into your bedroom, nudging the door closed with your foot. 

Everything looked the same. Not one item was out of place.

Your bed was still neatly made, windows cracked open slightly, books stacked high on your desk. Even the jacket you’d tossed onto your bed before leaving was laying in the exact same place.

Shoulders slumped, you made your way to your bed and sat down heavily. 

While your family may not have treated you well, at least they hadn’t shoved you into some small cupboard. Even if he hadn’t treated you well, your bedroom and belongings were the only things you felt as though you owed your father for - a kindness he probably didn’t owe you.

Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d even notice if you purchased something. His overflowing mountain of money would be difficult to dent, even if you went on an unrestricted spree with his card.

You flopped down on your back, staring up at the ceiling. 

The walls were a neutral light grey, nothing overly colourful or special. 

Just like you.

You flinched at your own thoughts.

The only thing that gave your room any personality was the glow in the dark stars stuck to your ceiling.

Years prior, Fuyumi had offered to redecorate your room. You had a feeling that it wasn’t out of the kindness of her heart.

You’d felt panicked and hurriedly told her no. She’d given you a strange look, one that you had ignored at the time.

No matter what changed throughout the years, your room was one thing you’d fight to keep the same.

****

Touya had spent a lot of time with you before he died.

Personally, you’d always thought that you were his favourite sibling. Not that you ever had the chance to ask.

He would spend his entire evening with you, everyday like clockwork.

At dinner, he’d sit to your right, between you and your mother. Shoto would sit to your left, next to your father.

He would talk to you, ask about your day, about what you’d done at school.

The fact that you were four and your stories hardly varied day-to-day never bothered him. He’d listen to your rambling words with rapt attention, gaze never straying from your own.

Touya took over your nightly routine when Rei began slipping. He kept you away from her when he saw the subtle hatred she had for you.

After dinner, he’d make sure you bathed, dressed, and brushed your teeth. He would occasionally read to you too, but often he’d just sit with you until you fell asleep, softly petting your hair.

One day, he decided that your ceiling was far too boring, and he surprised you with a pack of glow in the dark stars, as well as some themed stickers and a large bag of candy.

They were cheap, and for anyone else they may not have meant much, but for you, especially in the years following those, it meant the world.

You had many of his personal items from before he died too, not willing to part with them.

After a few years had passed, they’d been shoved to the back of your closet. While you wanted to hold on to a piece of him, it became difficult. Thinking about the fact that you’d lost the only person in your life that could tolerate you wasn’t a pleasant thought.

Regardless, the stars stayed. The stickers peeled away as the paint flaked, and his belongings were stowed away, but the stars remained.

****

After staring up at the ceiling became more of a chore than a bored pastime, you sat up and looked around your room.

It had been nearly three hours since you’d gotten back, and still, no one was home. 

Usually, you’d stay in your room or leave the house, but after everything that had happened, you were apprehensive of straying too far away from the safety of your house. It may not have been the most welcoming, but it was better than whatever lay beyond the front door.

You didn’t want to test your luck anymore than you already had.

Staying in your room wasn’t high on your list of priorities either. 

Well, I am kind of hungry, and no one else is home... Might as well raid the kitchen while I have the chance.

The sound of your footsteps is muffled by your slippers, the dull thuds filling up the empty hallways as you make your way to the kitchen.

You take your time searching through the pantry and fridge, in no hurry to scamper back to the confines of your bedroom. Your parents may have been kind enough to give you a decent sized room, but they were sure to shove you into the furthest, loneliest area of the house.

Perhaps that hadn’t been their intention originally - your room was right next to what used to be Touya’s bedroom. Of course, after he passed, your small bubble of safety grew to become incredibly isolated. Your father had his own wing of the house, even more solitary than your own with only Shoto nearby for company - not that your brother wanted to spend more time with him than what was required - and Fuyumi and Natsuo had their own comfortable wing of the house.

So you took your time in the common area, sitting cross legged on the floor as you peered around the bottom shelves of the large pantry.

Twenty minutes later, you decided on a large bowl of fruit. Just as you were contemplating whether or not to eat it in the kitchen or return to your room, someone let out a noise behind you. You turned, shoulders tensed, and-

“Shoto.”

Your twin brother, older by no more than ten minutes, looks almost shocked to see you, his brows lifted slightly, covered by his dual coloured fringe.

He says nothing, still silently staring at you. 

His presence makes you uncomfortable. He was little more than a stranger to you at this point - you hadn’t held a conversation with him for longer than five minutes in years, especially when he seemed to stare you down silently for minutes every time you tried to talk to him.

“I was just looking for something to eat. The food in the hospital isn’t great and I’m hungry, so…”

You're not sure why you feel the need to justify your presence to him, but something about the way he’s staring at you compels you to speak even if you have nothing to say.

The silence between the two of you becomes almost unbearable, and you're about to say something, anything to fill the oppressive silence, but the two of you are interrupted.

Your father walks in, seemingly preoccupied with his thoughts. Though he seems distracted, he notices the two of you almost immediately. The atmosphere instantly shifts. It had been awkward before, but now, it was ten times worse.

“Ah, Shoto…” he trails off awkwardly, barely acknowledging you.

He seems uncomfortable, unwilling to meet your eyes, keeping his gaze trained on the floor.

A part of you wants to feel satisfied with his reaction, his seemingly ashamed attitude. But all you feel is an overwhelming sense of anger, of injustice.

After everything that’s happened, he still won’t even look me in the eye. Pathetic.

Just as Shoto opens his mouth to speak, just as you prepare to excuse yourself, the three of you are interrupted, Fuyumi walking in with her head down, going through her bag in search of something.

“Dad, have you seen my keys, I could have sworn they were just in my bag…”

She doesn’t take note of the uncomfortable tension until she looks up, her sentence dying out halfway through.

“Oh.”

Her arms drop down to her sides as the four of you stand silently, each person too lost in their own discomfort to say anything.

Fuyumi is the first to break the silence, and she shocks you by addressing you directly.

“I, um, I’m making dinner tonight, if you’re feeling up to it, I hope you’ll join us. Natsuo and Shoto are both home too, so everyone will be there.”

You aren't sure what to say, so you just nod, still staring at your father. 

He’s the first to leave, walking out without a word. You leave next, abandoning your snack on the counter in favour of returning to your room. Your hunger had long since disappeared, replaced instead by a sick feeling at the bottom of your stomach.

****

Your quirk wasn’t anything particularly exciting - not that you would ever complain. 

A mundane, somewhat common quirk was better than nothing, you knew that better than anyone.

Nevertheless, you knew that your quirk was relatively average, and genetically speaking, it made sense. Considering the fact that your father was a pyrokinetic and your mother was a cryokinetic, it felt as though you were the middle ground between the two. 

Your quirk was the most simplified version of theirs that could be found.

Telekinesis wasn’t an awful quirk by any stretch, and the doctors, after several rounds of tests, had reassured you of that. They had told you that currently, you were at the level of a child, a five-year-old who had just received their quirk.

With time, you would gain better control over your abilities, pushing the boundaries and perhaps you could even surpass your father in terms of control.

The doctor who had dealt with you the most often - Dr Takahashi, or Kosuke as he insisted - was someone who specialised in unusual quirk development. He seemed delighted when he first met you, his eyes sparkling with a childlike wonder you hadn’t seen in many years. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought that he was more excited about your sudden quirk development than you were.

He conducted many tests and told you many things, each more anxiety inducing than the last. He made it clear that his goal consisted of two things. 

First, to make sure that you could properly handle your quirk. No one wanted you to accidentally injure someone else or yourself because your emotions ran wild and you lost control.

Secondly, he wanted to learn as much about your sudden and impossible development of a quirk as he could. He told you that he had high hopes for the development of your quirk, that he was eager to see exactly how versatile it could be. He hoped, with enough time and control, you’d be able to manipulate and influence things on a molecular level. 

You were just content to have a quirk, to be normal. You didn’t care much for becoming someone’s science experiment.

He’d been transparent about his motives from the very first day you’d met him, and that meant that you trusted him far more than you trusted any of the other doctors who claimed they wanted to help you. You knew they all held a morbid curiosity towards you and your abilities, but at least Kosuke was honest about it.

You knew better than to trust them.

****

The atmosphere was tense and oppressive. You shift in your seat slightly, eyes trained on the tabletop, as if it would crack open and suck you in at any moment. You wished it would.

Fuyumi clears her throat, leaning forward slightly. 

“How’s the food? Natsuo told me all of your favourites, I tried to make them as accurate as I could. I’m not sure how you usually like it...”

She trailed off. 

It didn’t seem possible, but somehow, her comment had made dinner even more awkward.

And you were about to make it worse. Much worse.

After a moment of silence, you spoke quietly, still staring down at the tabletop.

“The doctors said that it would be best if I remained under observation for a while, I’m sure you’re all aware of that.”

There’s a pause, almost questioning, but you don’t wait for anyone to speak.

“They recommended - or rather, they were advised - that I stay with... professionals.”

Your family seems to be holding their breath, even your father is completely focused on your words. You don’t want to disrupt the calm that has settled over your home. 

It may have been tense and awkward, but it was better than having to walk on eggshells around your own home. But regardless of what you wanted, this was something that had to be said - there was just no avoiding it.

“They advised that I be sent to UA. The principal, Mr Nezu, has asked for me to be placed under his watch for the next few months at least. Well, not under him specifically - rather, with All Might.”

The air became uncomfortably warm, not that it affected anyone but you.

Fuyumi and Natsuo both had ice quirks, and Shoto was perfectly capable of regulating his own body temperature. None of them felt the scorching heat emanating from where your father sat at the head of the table.

You lean back in your seat, try to escape the waves of scalding air now filling the room.

“Absolutely not.”

Remaining silent seems to backfire, fueling your father’s anger.

He slams his hand down onto the tabletop, cutlery and crockery rattling from the force. You’re sure the table is cracked.

“You will not be going. Not only are you unstable, unable to control your... quirk, you’re also my child, and I won’t have that spectacle of a hero watching over you.”

The word hero is spat with such venom that you’re sure it’ll burn through the tabletop, much like his hand, steaming and smouldering as it sinks into the expensive wood as if it’s nothing more than butter.

A small part of you thinks that you should be offended by his words, by the fact that he seems to view you more as property than a living, breathing human being. You are offended.

But you’re more concerned with his not-so-subtle jab at your quirk.

Maybe you should bite your tongue, accept his words and look for another solution. You should at least try and keep the peace. You should, you know you should.

But you don’t.

“I know my quirk is unstable, that’s why I need to be with people that actually know how to help me control it. I’m not going to this school to have fun, I’m going there because I don’t have a choice.” 

Your voice remains steady and even, but you can tell that it burns, much like Endeavour's flames. 

Ironically, that’s probably as close as you’d ever get to having any similarities to your father.

Your siblings still remain silent, watching as your father’s anger unfolds before them.

He stands, towering over you, trying to intimidate you. 

It works. No matter how much you may have changed, physically or mentally, you were still scared of your father. But this was something you couldn’t back down on.

“You will not be going. That is final.”

Years of being treated as a pariah in your home has taught you a lot, namely how to control your emotions in difficult times. But no matter how much control you display outwardly, your newfound quirk betrays your mental state.

“Like I’ve already said, neither of us really have a choice. I’m going, whether you like it or not.” 

Fuyumi finally speaks up, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Calm down, calm down, you’re making everything fly around.”

True to her words, the cutlery and crockery are floating around the room, spinning rapidly around your heads. 

You take a deep breath and everything falls, landing with a crash back on to the table. 

Without waiting for permission, you stand up from your seat and leave, escaping to your room.

You had a lot of packing to do.

****

You decided that packing would have to wait until things calmed down, not wanting to incite another argument with your father. Rather, you settled for laying in bed, arms straight by your sides as you lay on your back.

Sleep had eluded you for the past few hours, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sit up or leave your room. So you lay there in silence, trying not to think about anything specific, instead letting your mind stagnate.

What would mom say if she was here now?

No, not mom - Touya, what would he say?

Your mind is a mess, and you try in vain to sort through the jumbled pieces. 

Putting on a tough face was easy enough when the people around you didn’t care about making sure that you were okay, and usually you’d be able to sort through your problems and inner turmoil on your own.

Really, nothing has changed, so you should be able to think straight. But you can’t. 

For some reason, one you’re blind to, you feel overwhelmed, and your breathing turns laboured.

You lay there in the dark, the sound of your panicked gasps filling the room, hot tears rolling down your temples.

It had been a while since you’d last felt this way, felt so helpless and agitated. You roll onto your side, curling into a tight ball, arms and legs tucked tightly into your stomach.

Scrunching your eyes closed, you try to take a deep breath, and it shudders through you, shaking your crumpled frame.

The past few days had engulfed you, but you’d been too caught up in the moment to truly process anything. Evidently, this was the moment that everything hit you at once.

You realise now how scared you were, how out of depth you felt.

Touya’s hand was warm on your shoulder, his arm wrapped around you tightly. He always felt like a furnace, as if he had a constant fever. It felt nice; comforting and familiar.

“Don’t cry, shh, shh.”

His calloused palm smooths itself over your cheek, wiping away the tears staining your face.

“Come on, pretty girl, don’t cry now.”

You sniffled slightly, clutching his shirt in your fists, burying your face into his chest.

“They hate me.”

He sighs heavily, arms coming to wrap around your head. He’s silent for a moment, contemplating his words carefully.

“They don’t hate you, I promise you. Hey, look at me.” He demands.

You do. 

Of course you do. You do whatever Touya asks of you - he says jump, you say how high.

He gives you a soft smile, ruffling your hair lightly.

“I love you. Tell me.”

“You love me Touya.”

“Is that enough?”

You nod in the self-assured way that all children do, so sure that your big brother would never lie to you.

“They might not show it in the best way, but they love you too. Dad, Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shoto - they all love you so much, too much.”

You’re hesitant, unsure of his words. But he’s never lied to you, so you try your best to believe him.

He cracks a smile, the large grin splitting his face, eyes wrinkling on either side.

“But I love you more, you got that?”

He lightly digs his fingers into your sides, and you screech out loudly, giggling as he continues his assault.

“I didn’t hear a yes.” He says in a singsong voice.

“Y-Yes Touya-nii, I understand, I understand!”

You manage to get the words out through small shrieks and giggles, trying to slink out of his grasp. 

He pulls you close, smothering you in a hug. He sighs heavily when you hug him back, the puff of air he lets out mussing your hair. 

The memory calms you, breathing evened out, tears drying up.

You had many memories with Touya, but that one, one from mere months before he’d passed - it always stuck out more than the others. 

It was your happy place, something you thought of whenever you got too overwhelmed.

You still feel overwhelmed and anxious, but at least you’ve stopped shaking. 

The dried tears make your cheeks feel sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to move, let alone get up and wash your face.

You fall asleep still curled up in a tight ball, limbs tucked into your stomach.

****

It had been a week since you’d told your father what Dr Takahashi had advised, and you’d gone out of your way to avoid him and your siblings. 

You’d been cooped up in your room for the vast majority of that time, leaving only to use the bathroom or raid the kitchen for food. 

It felt cowardly to hide away and avoid your problems, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when dealing with it caused more problems than it solved. 

Distractions didn’t come easily. You’d spent more time than you’d care to admit staring at the ceiling or out the window. The view had lost its charm after the second day.

Now, a week later, you decided to stop hiding away like a hermit and instead act as if nothing had happened - or at least act more maturely than you had been.

Still, you left your room cautiously, peering down the long, dark hallways as if there was a terrible monster lurking within your house. 

You suppose that in a sense, there probably was.

The kitchen, thankfully, was deserted, quiet and clean as it usually was.

You distract yourself by filling a glass with water, the clear trickle of water the only sound in the empty space.

Leaning against the cool countertop, you slowly sip at your drink, eyeing the spotless kitchen with a disinterested eye. 

If nothing else, Fuyumi had filled your mother’s shoes well, having taken over as somewhat of a caretaker after she had been sent away. Your father employed various maids and chefs on occasion, but Fuyumi oversaw a lot of the household work when she was available.

Similarly to your mother, she never showed much interest in you beyond feeding you. 

The thought should have stung, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel very strongly about it anymore.

You’re so deep in thought, you barely notice your father entering the kitchen, Fuyumi close behind him, both of them carrying grocery bags while holding a quiet conversation.

The sight of him, standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms filled with bags of produce; it throws you off.

He looks so normal, so domestic, it almost convinces you that he isn’t as bad as you’ve always believed - that none of them are so bad. He’s dressed casually, jeans and a black polo neck shirt. 

Sometimes, if you pretend hard enough, you can almost trick yourself into believing that you’re part of a normal, happy family. One that has dinner together every night, one that holds family trips and movie nights, a family that actually cares about one another beyond whatever twisted sense of duty your family seems to have.

Of course, that wasn’t possible, and the reality of your family was quite different.

Fuyumi is next to you now, eagerly attempting to converse with you, her hand resting gently against your forearm and she leans closer.

You flinch back, only slightly, but she notices nonetheless, retracting her hand a moment later. 

Now’s as good a time as any.

Whatever your sister had been saying falls on deaf ears as you interrupt her, addressing your father with a clipped tone.

“About the other day - have you changed your mind yet?”

It’s innocent enough, posed as a nonchalant inquiry, one brought up in passing. 

Only, you’re gripping the glass in a vice grip, knuckles turning white, and your eyebrows are slightly pinched together, wrinkling faintly. 

Truthfully, you feel as though you’ve been wound up tight, like a spring. It’s all you can do to stop your hands from shaking - even worse, you have a suffocating hold over your quirk, forcing it down even as you panic.

Enji hums lightly, not looking your way as he sets his bags down on the countertop opposite you, his broad shoulders relaxed, his demeanour passive.

He turns to you then, and looks you in the eye. He searches your face, looking for something for a moment, and he seems to find whatever it is he’s looking for because he huffs and shakes his head, slowly making his way towards you with heavy steps.

Your father approaches you as if you’re some frightened animal, stopping a few steps away as he crosses his arms over his broad chest, muscles bulging, straining against the fabric of his shirt.

“If you truly need to train as the doctors have said, then you may train with me.”

Protests begin falling from your lips before he’s even finished his sentence, and you see his eyebrows quirk with irritation.

He raises a massive palm, silencing you with one look while he shakes his head. 

If you didn’t know any better, you might have said he looked disappointed.

He speaks again once he’s sure you won’t interrupt.

"You'll train with me or not at all."

Something flashes inside of you then - anger or frustration or something similar. His selfishness truly knew no bounds, that much was clear.

"I'm not Shoto - I’m not Touya. You treat me like him - you treat me worse than you treated him, but no matter how much you force it, I am not him."

He steps forward, moving faster than your brain can register.

The entire left side of your face burns, stinging from the force of his calloused palm connecting with your cheek.

There’s a ringing in your left ear, and a gentle prod of your tongue reveals that your lip has been split open. You feel disorientated, and you’re surprised you didn’t fall down when he hit you.

You laugh then. Silently, humourlessly.

When your gaze meets his, he looks shocked, all the blood having left his face. A quick glance at Fuyumi shows that she’s just as shocked, one hand clenched in front of her stomach, the other covering her mouth which is twisted into a horrified expression. 

Your father opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he gets the words out.

“You like to act like it, but you haven’t changed one bit.”

Pushing past him is easy, he doesn't try to stop you, not even calling out to you as you grab a jacket from the coat rack near the entrance and leave, slamming the front door behind you.

****

You walk around aimlessly, staring blankly into the storefronts of various shops.

After you’d left home, you got on to the first bus that had come by, getting off only once the walls had felt more suffocating than safe.

Where you were now, you had no idea.

Some or other business district, if you had to wager a guess. There were a few smaller stores and bars littered out amongst the highrise buildings, though the streets were mostly deserted. You hadn’t seen very many people, even after hours of meandering about.

You’d been walking around for a while, and the sun was close to setting now. The buildings around you were bathed in an eerie red-tinged glow, almost as if covered in blood. 

As much as you hated to admit it, you were lost.

You were lost, and you didn’t have a phone. Hell, you barely had enough money for the bus fare back home - however far that may be.

Despite the dire circumstances, your panic felt strangely muted. Perhaps you’d exhausted your quota for negative emotions in this lifetime. The thought amused you.

Your face ached, and if you have to guess, your cheek was probably swollen and red from where your father had struck you hours earlier.

Trying to ignore the pain had worked well at first, though that was probably because you were running high off of adrenaline. Now though, the pain had set in, knocking you in full force, and your jaw throbbed horribly.

After weighing your options carefully, you decided that the best use for the last of your money would be to buy an ice pack.

You’d manage to find a way home, one way or another. Or maybe you’d continue to wander around for a while longer. Either way, the insistent pounding in your face was more important than returning home.

Finding a convenience store was easy enough, and you slinked into the first one you came across, the bell above the door jingling loudly. The noise made your head hurt.

For a store in the centre of a business district, it was surprisingly unkempt. Lights flickered oddly, the windows were mostly blacked out, and there were piles of merchandise stacked precariously throughout the small store.

You ignored your sense of unease, instead slipping through the store silently, making a beeline towards the freezers shoved in the corner. 

The store may have been small and cramped, but at least it was clean. The sliding door moves smoothly, and a gush of cold air hits you as you reach into the freezer, grabbing the first ice pack you see.

As you make your way through the store, browsing to see if they had any snacks cheap enough to fit in your restricted budget, the bell above the door tinkled. You wince softly, ears still ringing loudly.

The old man really didn’t hold back. He hasn’t hit me like that in years.

Finally, you find a stack of cheap energy bars near the opposite end of the store. Grabbing a few, you make your way towards the counter.

The customer before you stands hunched over, a hood covering his head. He drops two cans and a packet of chips on the counter, tossing the money down afterwards. The cashier seems bored, his face flat and eyes dead.

After handing back his change, the cashier's eyes slide to you and you step forward, nearly colliding with the customer in front of you.

“Watch it.” He hisses at you.

You mumble out a few apologies, head tilted downwards, eyes trained on the floor.

He scoffs and makes his way to the door, meeting who you assume to be a friend. He throws you one last dirty look before the pair leaves, the door slamming shut behind them with a bang.

You don’t bother trying to hold a conversation with the man behind the counter, instead just pushing your items forward gently and handing him the money. You’re quick to leave after you’ve paid.

The cold of the ice pack seems to seep into your bones, numbing your cheek and jaw. It feels amazing, and you have to stop yourself from moaning out as it numbs the pain.

You curse yourself for not carrying more money - painkillers would have helped a lot at the moment, but you had to settle for a quickly melting ice pack and a cheap snack instead.

The few energy bars you’d managed to pay for were shoved into the pocket of your jacket, one hand clenching them, the other holding the pack to your face. 

You pull the door open and dart outside, careful not to trip on the slight step in front of the store. You stand still for a moment, deliberating on which direction you should take.

A glance to your right, towards the busier part of the neighbourhood, shows the two men from earlier, lingering near the entrance of the store. You quickly decide to go left, hopping down the step and hurrying along the sidewalk.

As reluctant as you were to go towards the less populated area of the city centre, you weren’t eager to walk past the man from earlier either. Something about him made your hair stand on end.

Checking left and then right, you quickly dart across the road, risking a glance behind you.

The two men are gone.

You huff out a light laugh.

I’m so paranoid. God, that’s so embarrassing.

Regardless of the now empty street, you continue on in the direction you were walking. Having a quirk, especially one like yours, it made you feel safe. Even though you didn’t have the best control over it, it was better than being quirkless and defenceless.

The sun had set by now, and though there were many street lights, very few of them actually worked. The street was bathed in darkness, though your eyes adjusted quickly.

You should be concerned, you know that you should be - you’re alone, lost and in pain. But you feel somewhat weightless, almost free. 

There’s a small skip in your step as you walk down the winding street, taking random turns and corners, not paying attention to your surroundings as much as you should. By now, the roads have become narrower, the buildings taller.

You’re in your own head, playing over the events of the day, when you hear the slight patter of footsteps behind you. 

Something in your gait falters, and you fight the urge to stop and look around. 

Perhaps you’re being paranoid, perhaps it’s nothing, but you’d rather be sure.

There are no corners or turns for a while, the street you’re on is long and narrow, so you decide to slip through the alleyway up ahead.

As you turn into the alleyway, you chance a glance behind you.

Nothing.

There’s no one there.

The street is empty, devoid of any life form other than you.

You clench the now limp ice pack in your hand, shaking your head slightly.

When did I become so paranoid?

You puff out your cheeks, holding your breath for a long moment before slowly releasing it. Under different circumstances, you might have laughed at yourself.

A short glance into the alleyway confirms that it leads to the next street over, so you decide to take it as a shortcut instead of walking around the cluster of buildings. It’s nearly pitch black, the dim light from the street lamps not reaching this far into the backstreets.

Stuffing the melted ice pack into your other pocket, you relax your shoulders and start making your way through the alleyway.

The sound of your footsteps echoes around you, bouncing from wall to wall.

You’re about a third of the way through the alley when your skin prickles painfully and you stop dead in your tracks.

There’s no noise, no movement, nothing to warrant the sudden fear you feel. But as much as you try to convince yourself, you can’t seem to move, rooted in place with terror.

Sucking up your pride, you turn to leave the alley and-

You’re face to face with a man.

At least, you assume it’s a man.

He’s tall, but that’s the extent of what you can see. His face is covered by a mask and he wears a brightly coloured coat and a ridiculous looking tophat. There isn’t even a sliver of skin visible, every inch of him covered by extravagant clothing.

His fashion choices are the least of your worries though. He stands casually, leaning against the wall of the alleyway.

It might have looked like he was outside for a break or some air, but the way his body is positioned, leaning towards you, ready and waiting, the way he covers the nearest exit from the alley - he has you trapped.

You don’t wait for him to speak or move. Instead, you take off running towards the far end of the alley.

His laugh is deep, the sound of it reverberating around you. 

It’s a mocking sound, and it seems to chase after you as you run.

Whether or not he was innocent didn’t matter, his presence set off alarm bells in your head, and you’d rather be wrong and hurt his feelings than end up dead, or worse.

Only, you don’t make it very far before you’re skidding to a halt, trying not to crash into the man before you.

He grins widely, the scaled skin of his face stretching. What alarms you more than his menacing smile on his face is what appears to be a sword strapped to his back.

For one terrifying moment, your mind goes blank. You can’t think or move, and you stand there like a deer in headlights.

Thankfully, your body doesn’t fail you, some deeply buried instinct rising up to protect you as the scaled man approaches you, still smiling widely.

The alleyway, littered with junk and cardboard boxes, still feels cramped. But you thank the mess surrounding you as your quirk sends pieces of metal and plastic flying towards the man as he nears you.

His arms rise to protect his face as he’s pelted with scraps.

The man behind you seems to be more agile, gracefully weaving through the onslaught of rubbish being thrown his way.

You try to run again, slipping past the man still being attacked by your quirk. He tries to reach for you but you scamper out of the way.

Only, your efforts aren’t enough, and you feel yourself slowing down.

Am I slowing down?

No…

Your surroundings seem to become bigger, the exit of the alley growing further away with every step.

Except nothing was moving - you were shrinking, being encased in some type of blue shell.

The masked man, now ten times larger than you, picks you up with a light laugh. He says something to his companion, who is no longer being pelted with litter, before slipping you into his pocket.

Panic clogs up your throat, so thick and slimy that you can barely breathe.

You feel weightless for a short moment, and then you’re being moved again, the man taking you out of his pocket and placing you on the floor.

Returning to your original size happens rapidly, and you sway in place as you try to shake off the dizziness in your head.

“Ah, please wait here for a moment, you’ll meet the others shortly.”

You’re disorientated, confused as the masked man from before slips out of the room. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you collapse. The floor is dusty and the room is small. The smell of mildew fills your lungs uncomfortably as you look around the room. 

It’s cramped, barely large enough for three people. You could probably touch the two opposite walls from your position on the floor.

Your mind runs rampant with what ifs and you wonder if you’re going to die soon. For all your bravado, having a quirk had done nothing to help you protect yourself. Shame flooded your mind and you had to bite back tears - both from terror and self pity.

Despite what the man had said earlier, he doesn’t return, and even with the situation as grim as it was, you find yourself falling asleep, still a crumpled heap on the floor.

****

There were times that you’d almost felt thankful that you’d been born without a quirk.

Like when you’d seen the way Touya and Shoto had to train with your father, the way he would hit and shove them, force them to push themselves to impossible limits just to meet his standards.

Sometimes being quirkless felt like a blessing in disguise.

There were also times, before Touya passed, before your mother’s break, that you’d felt as though your family might have actually cared for you. Well, everyone except your mother.

You weren’t sure whether it was a figment of your imagination or not, but it didn’t matter. It was little more than a hazy memory at this point.

Your father hitting Shoto harshly for making you cry, holding you close to his chest as he pet your hair. He smelt sharply of woodsmoke, sweat and soap.

Fuyumi petting your head softly after forcing treats down your throat. 

Natsuo propping you up in the basket of his bicycle, flying down the hill as you screeched and laughed.

Shoto grasping your hand tightly, pulling you close after he crawled into your bed with you, claiming he’d had a nightmare, his presence suffocating you while he held you as close as he could.

You’d chalked it all up to a daydream. Even if it was true, all that had happened nearly twelve years ago. Those small actions hardly excused their awful treatment of you in the years following.

Worse than their cold treatment and harsh punishments had to be their effect on others. Even after all these years, the way that you were shunned by other people still stung.

You realise now that it may have been because of your lack of a quirk, but it must have had something to do with your father’s refusal to acknowledge you.

I feel bad - imagine being a pro-hero with a pathetic, quirkless loser as a daughter. I’d be embarrassed too, having to be related to someone like you.

You thought that gaining a quirk would change something, but evidently your family had a problem with you, not your lack of a quirk.

It had been a difficult realisation to come to, one you’d lost a lot of sleep over.

Asking your father to let you go to UA had been a double-barrelled question.

While you were actually asking him to let you join the famous school for heroes, you were also asking him to let you go.

Having no family and no home had to be better than suffering in a household of people who despised you.

Evidently, he couldn’t let you go.

He couldn’t love you, but he refused to let you go.

You felt pathetic, vying for affection for years from the people who hated you most.

Over the past ten years since Touya had passed, you’d tried only once to leave.

You’d packed a bag and left in the middle of the day, making sure that no one saw you leave. You’d made it pretty far too, before you were caught by a pro-hero who dragged you back to your father’s agency.

He beat you after that, smacking you so hard you felt your brain rattle in your skull, leaving bruises that stained your skin for months. He made it clear that you weren’t allowed to leave. They hated you, barely tolerating the sight of you - but you couldn’t leave.

It felt like a fate more cruel than death, some type of inhumane punishment for something you’d done in a past life.

Your siblings had treated you coldly after that too. They didn’t bother pretending to care when your father slapped you around as punishment, turning a blind eye as he told you that if you tried to leave again, he’d send you to the hospital with injuries ten times worse than those he had inflicted.

You suppose that you got the short end of the stick in many ways - you didn’t have a quirk, but you were still treated like Shoto and Touya.

****

You wake up to someone shaking you, propping you up as they try to get you on to your feet.

Flinching back, you blink blearily at them.

It’s the man from earlier, his hat and coat discarded. 

“Come on, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to ask questions, instead yanking you up and pushing you towards the only door in the room.

Your initial panic returns, and you begin wriggling in his grasp, digging your heels into the ground as he tries to pull you out of the room.

His exasperated sigh is lost to you, too focused on breaking out of his grasp. He lets go of your arm for a moment before he has his hands wrapped around the back of your thighs, tossing you over his shoulder and walking out of the room.

The fists pounding on his back don’t seem to bother him, and your flailing legs are held down in a vice grip, his fingers digging into your thighs until you yelp.

“Stop moving.” He bites out in an irritated tone.

“Let me go!” 

It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him. You had hoped to sound stern and angry, but it comes out as a broken, terrified garble instead.

He ignores you, making his way through the winding corridors. 

Your search for objects to throw at the man proves to be futile - the corridors are barren.

Tears of frustration begin dotting at your waterline and you instead hang limply over his shoulder, trying not to think about all the horrible things that were about to happen.

He comes to a halt five minutes later, rapping on the door sharply before he’s let in.

You don’t have a chance to look around the room before you’re unceremoniously dropped into a chair. You’re sure it’ll leave a few bruises later on.

Just as you prepare to fling yourself to the side, to run away or attack the man with your quirk, your wrists are enclosed in thick cuffs.

Immediately, it feels as if a part of you has been shut off. A few seconds later and you’ve confirmed it.

Quirk cancelling cuffs.

The realisation that they were prepared enough to bring quirk cancelling cuffs scares you.

You don’t have time to linger on what that may mean.

“Little Todoroki.”

A symphony of laughter surrounds you. Mocking you, taunting you.

There are so many people. Even if you had access to your quirk, you were sure it wouldn’t be of much use.

The two men from before were standing off to the side, alongside two more and a woman. Before you stood a young looking girl, likely your age, and two other men. 

Eight people.

You try to curl into yourself as best you can.

They’re all staring at you, waiting for you to say something, do something.

When you remain still and silent, a few of them laugh again. 

“What, aren’t you going to thank us for your quirk? If I had known that you would be this ungrateful, I would have kept it to myself.”

Your blood chills and your breath catches in your throat.

There are so many questions flying through your mind, many of which you’re too terrified to ask.

“What?”

It’s whispered quietly under your breath, barely loud enough to be heard through the rush of blood in your ears.

“Oh don’t look so surprised, you knew your quirk wasn’t natural.”

Yes, you knew. But hearing it outloud, having it confirmed that your quirk wasn’t your own - it bruises your ego more than you’d care to admit.

The man before you, the blue haired one that seems to be the leader of the small group, continues talking, ignorant to your inner turmoil.

“I can almost see it now - Pro-hero Endeavour, beloved public figure, the famous flame hero - his own daughter affiliated with the same scum of the earth villains he’s sworn to fight. The irony, am I right?”

A few group members laugh cruelly as he continues on.

“Not only are you affiliated with us - you were so desperate for something that your father couldn’t give you that you joined a group of villains - in exchange for a quirk of all things. Oh how the mighty have fallen.”

He laughs then, different from before. It’s low and dry, and he approaches you, crouching down so that he can look you in the eyes through the mask on his face.

You’re horrified when you realise that it isn’t a mask - it’s a hand. A human hand.

Leaning back as far as you can in the uncomfortable wooden chair. It creaks loudly and the back of it digs into your shoulder painfully.

You hold his gaze for as long as you can, not saying a word, hardly daring to breathe. 

“Aren’t you going to ask how we gave you your quirk?”

His question throws you off, and you blink, slightly dumbfounded. You open your mouth, and then close it again, unsure of what to say, of what he wants to hear.

Instead, you nod mutely, still staring intently at his face.

He snorts, shaking his head. He places his hand on your shoulder, leaning forward so that his head is next to yours, so close that his lips graze your ear as he speaks.

“Use your words.”

His fingers tangle gently into the hairs at the nape of your neck.

“How did you give me my quirk.”

Your words lack the tonation of a question, but he doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t answer your question either, rather, he grips the back of your neck harshly, pulling you so close that your nose almost brushes up against the hand on his face.

“I could kill you, you know? All it would take is a touch, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

You’re shaking now, though tears elude you. Your eyes are wide and your breathing shallow. 

“But I won’t. My father’s experiment - my experiment - you’re proof that it was a success. Really, you should be thanking me.”

He leans to the side, placing his palms flat on your shoulders and-

Your jacket is gone. Where the familiar material once lay against your shoulders, there was now a fine layer of dust.

“My name is Shigaraki, but you can call me Tomura. We’re going to get to know each other quite well, so you should get comfortable,” he says as he brushes the dust off of your arms.

He clasps your upper arms in his hands, staring at you for only a moment before straightening himself and turning away. He leaves the room without looking at you again, instead waving his companions off and telling them to lock you away.

Most of the remaining people in the room leave then, still laughing and talking amongst themselves. The only two that remain are the masked man from before and one of the strangers who lingered in the shadows.

“Come on, I’ll take you to your room-”

The masked man is cut off abruptly as the other man, one with spiky black hair and charred skin, grabs his arm and whispers something to him.

Though you can’t see his face, it seems as though the masked man throws him a suspicious look. He relents, patting him on the back, leaving the room with one last glance your way.

You’re left alone with the charred man, his back facing you as he watches his companion leave.

…

His shoulders slump and he whirls on his heel, swiftly approaching you.

The palm of his hand is warm on your now bare forearm, and he yanks you harshly from the chair.

“Fucking finally,” he mutters under his breath, pulling out of the room, through the winding corridors.

****

Ten minutes later, you’re being shoved into a room, one much more spacious and comfortable than the one you first woke up in.

There’s a bed in the corner, narrow but comfortable looking, and a chair next to it. There’s also a door off to the side, and the short glance you manage to steal shows that it’s a small bathroom.

You feel sick.

Fan-fucking-tastic. I’m being held hostage. This is just perfect.

Your thoughts are cut short when the door slams shut behind you.

The man is still here with you.

He glances at you over his shoulder, his back still facing you.

One small step backwards turns into two, which continues on until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. 

You turn slightly, a few millimetres to see what you walked into.

The movement seems to stir the man from his stupor, and he swivels around to storm towards you. 

You think he’s about to hit you, or shove you, or kill you.

But none of those things happen.

Instead, he pauses once he’s in front of you. 

He stares at you, his gaze boring into your own. The silence is blaring. 

You don’t blink. You don’t breathe. You stand and wait, still staring at him.

His lips slip into a crooked, wicked smirk and he pushes himself closer to you, leering at you. You lean back as far as you can, trying to keep some distance between the two of you until your knees fold and you collapse onto the bed.

The warning glare he throws you is icy, and he leans down to grab at the cuffs still encircling your wrists. After a long moment, there’s a silent click and your wrists are free. You immediately rub at the tender skin, still eyeing him suspiciously.

He pockets the cuffs before dropping down next to you on the bed, leaning back against the wall while he eyes you with what can only be described as amusement.

“Well?”

He gestures vaguely with his hand, an air of expectancy surrounding him. He quirks an eyebrow at you, lightly nudging you with his foot.

You angle yourself away from him, turning your body towards the door. But as hard as you try to ignore him, he seems intent on getting you to talk.

“What, aren’t you going to greet your big brother?”

He lets out a dramatic, pained gasp, one hand clutched to his chest.

“And I thought you missed me.”

His words make you freeze. You’re still facing the wall, so he’s unable to see your wide eyes or clenched hands.

But he’s able to feel the way the air becomes dense, to see the way your hair raises up slightly as you lose the hold on your quirk. 

You feel suffocated, as if the walls are closing in.

Is this supposed to be some kind of joke? Is it a test - something meant to get a rise out of me?

“Hey, it was funny at first, but I want an answer.”

You don’t hear him, still rigid and distressed. 

He doesn’t take your silence well, grabbing at your shoulder with rough hands, yanking you so that you’re facing him.

Even then, you remain silent, fearful of the strange man no more than two feet away from you. 

His grip on your arm tightens, though you barely feel it. 

The room feels warm, hotter than it had when you’d first arrived. His eyes flash while he shifts closer, crowding into your space, searching your face for something.

“You don’t recognise me,” he says decisively. 

“Well, I guess I can excuse that - I have a more ruggedly handsome look now than I did ten years ago.”

His joking tone is lost on you. You’re sceptical of his words, of the situation you’ve found yourself in. 

Trying to pry your arm out of his grasp proves to be difficult, his grip tightening uncomfortably. 

“Say something,” he demands. He leans closer, too close. Close enough that you can smell him - metal and smoke and blood.

“It’s me - Touya. Come on, say something.”

His tone is pleading now, begging you to say something.

You lick your lips, eyes shifting around as you try to think of what to say.

“T-Touya?”

Your voice cracks, but it seems to be enough for him.

His eyes brighten a bit and he lurches forward without warning, pulling you into a suffocating you in a hug. You remain stiff, awkwardly patting his arm.

The grip he has on you tightens as a laugh rumbles in his chest.

“You don’t believe me. That’s fine, you will. Sooner or later.”

He moves back to his position by the wall, seemingly more comfortable than he had been earlier.

“W-Why should I believe you? You don’t have any evidence - this could be some ploy to get me to trust you and your friends.”

He shrugs, neck rolling side to side.

“I guess time is the only way to tell, and we have plenty of that. You’ll have to believe me eventually.”

There’s a pause, short and uncomfortable, before he’s speaking again, his eyes now bright and leering. The look he gives you scares you. You hold your breath. 

“Tell me though - how is dear old dad? Does he still beat you?”

You gape at him like a fish, eyes wide in shock. He leans forward, still talking as if he doesn’t notice how his words burn you.

“Or how about mom, huh? She always hated you, though you never really accepted that. Come to think of it, they all did, to a degree. Not me though, I loved you.”

He has a sick look of satisfaction on his face. 

No one but Touya could have known that, so it must be true that he’s your big brother.

The thought doesn’t comfort you as it should, you feel sick looking at the content look on his face. The Touya you remember would never have said something like that - something meant to cut you deep, to hurt you.

“Have you even seen her since she-”

“Stop it! I get it, you’re Touya, just- just stop.”

Your voice cracks pathetically.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that. Hey,” he grasps your arm again. You wish he would stop touching you.

“Since you believe me now, and you haven’t tried anything, I’ll give you a reward. You’ve been good, how about it?”

His nails dig into your flesh as he grows impatient with you, silently demanding an answer. A mute nod is all you can muster up.

You should be overjoyed, you know that. Your brother, who you had assumed to be dead, was alive. He was alive and right in front of you. 

Except this wasn’t your brother. The man staring you down so intently was not Touya.

“You’re lucky, y’know that? You’re lucky I cared enough about you to volunteer you for this position. Hell, you’re lucky you got a quirk through this experiment and not the big boss like we usually do it. You’d be brain dead by now if that had happened.”

He talks over you even as you try to question him, his grip becoming bruising and painful around your arm.

“You’re lucky I’m not like dad,” he sneers at you. “If I were, I’d have smacked the shit out of you for how you spoke to me.”

Having heard enough, you yank your arm out of his grasp and stand up abruptly, staring down at him.

You’re confused and hurt, but most of all, you’re angry.

“You’re not Touya. Touya would never speak to me like this, he’d never allow me to be treated like this. And he definitely wouldn’t join a group of villains. I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t my brother. Maybe you were once, but now you’re nothing more than a corrupt piece of shit.”

He listens to you silently, waiting until you’re finished, chest heaving as you glare at him with all the hate you can muster, still gripping your bruised arm to your chest.

Then, he laughs.

It starts off softly. You barely hear it, the only indication that he’s actually laughing being the slight shake of his shoulders. As the seconds tick by though, it grows louder and louder, until he’s clutching his stomach, head thrown back as his bellowing laughs echo throughout the room.

He quiets down after a few minutes, wiping away a nonexistent tear, one last amused puff of air leaving his lips.

Before you can blink, he’s on you, smothering you.

His hands are on your throat, crushing your windpipe. The force of him jumping at you knocked you back, and you hit the wall with a loud oof, the air literally knocked out of you. 

While his actions are crazed, his eyes are anything but. He stares down at you, his gaze drilling into yours. His thumbs press down and you’re letting out an odd choking sound.

“I knew I spoiled you too much when you were younger. You’ve become such a goddamn brat,” he spat, eyes wide and angry.

“Is this how you want me to act? If I’m really such a piece of shit, then maybe I should go all out, treat you exactly how dad does? Would you prefer that?”

He smirks slightly, more of a quirk of his lips than a smile, eyes narrowing while he continues to speak over your spluttering.

“Maybe that’s what you need - maybe I should go further than dad would, that’d really get the message through.”

His right palm, massive and calloused, slides off of your throat and down to your left shoulder, where his fingers grip into the tender flesh.

“Why do you make me out to be the bad guy, huh?” he sighs heavily. 

“I try to help you and this is what I get in return - a bitch for a sister who doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. Well, that’s easy enough to remedy, I guess. I don’t like hurting you, but this is for your own good, I promise. Trust me, just like you used to - I’d never lie to you.”

His left hand leaves your throat, moving instead to cover your mouth.

You can breathe again, and you shudder as you try to suck in a breath with his rough palm covering your mouth. You wonder for a split second why he moved his hand, why he covers your lower face.

It becomes clear a moment later.

Touya’s quirk was always amazing. Blue flames that would dance beautifully, capturing your attention whenever he would show off to you. It was amazing, but it hurt him, in ways that you would never understand.

You never understood why he grimaced and whimpered and cried after using his quirk, but now you do.

His palm heats up quickly, blue flames searing the skin of your shoulder.

You scream then, eyes bulging, limbs thrashing.

The smell of your flesh sizzling makes you nauseous, and you start to feel light-headed.

After he decides you’ve had enough, he pulls his hand away, and an angry red welt remains, your skin still hot, sizzling and bleeding from the abuse. He slowly moves his hand away from your mouth, taking a step back.

His distance doesn’t last long - he’s back in your space in an instant as you stumble forward, his arms wrapping around you, carrying you back to the bed.

You feel feverish, and you briefly register that you’re about to pass out, though Touya’s words drown out your thoughts.

“See, now you went and made me feel bad. Just remember that this was your fault, you can’t blame me for your bad attitude. Hey, how about we start fresh after this, forget this whole thing happened?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead brushing the sweaty strands of hair off your forehead, softly petting your head with a loving look in his eyes.

“All of this aside, I did miss you, you know? I would check up on you when I could, though you never seemed to be too badly off. If there’s one thing I can’t fault dad and them on, it has to be the way they take care of you. It doesn’t hurt that they made sure you hated them just enough to make me look good.”

He stares at you fondly, and you don’t have the energy to bat him away, let alone to tell him how they’d made your life a living hell - how he was making your life a living hell. Your vision starts to swim, but he continues on.

“Yeah, I know, you probably don’t believe me, but they really do care for you. A bit too much if I’m honest, but whatever. You’re with me now, and that’s all that matters. It’s just the two of us again, just like it used to be.”

You wish he would stop talking, but his voice was surprisingly soothing and his touch was familiar. 

“Shigaraki seems to like you too, which is good - that means the others will have to mind their own business too. Plus I’m here, so you won’t have to worry about them bothering you. But hey, you can’t call me Touya in front of those guys - call me Dabi.”

What kind of a name is Dabi?

You think briefly about the fact that you should have stayed at home instead of running off.

But despite everything that had happened, a small, dark part of you was happy. Your brother was alive - a monster, a villain - but he was alive. And a twisted, broken part of you was happy that he still cared about you. 

Him hurting you wasn’t any different from how your father used to treat you. Perhaps you had traded in one evil for another.

You pass out still listening to him ramble on about how happy he was to have you back, how much he’d missed you, how lucky you were to have such a caring big brother.

****

Dabi - Touya - sighs heavily, still stroking your hair. He stares down at you with a remorseful look in his eyes.

“I know you can’t hear me, but I have to get it off of my chest. It’s probably for the best that you’re unconscious actually.”

He laughs, though it lacks humour or happiness.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice cracking. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, and I’m sorry I had to leave you. I’ll understand if you hate me, but this is just the way things have to be now.”

His hand pauses as his attention wanes, eyes glazing over as he focuses on something unseen.

“I was never as great as you thought I was. But I’m still sorry,” he says, clenching his hands in fists, nails indenting the flesh of his palms.

“I don’t like hurting you, not that it helps at all.”

He stands, rearranging you more comfortably on the bed.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this - but it’s for the best. I promise.”

I promise.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Yoooo idk if you know what my hero academia is but what about a batsib( platonic) who’s a lot like dabi. Abused all there life has blue fire burns all over them. Abnormal body heat. Who would be more interesting in the fire? Who would help batsib take care of there burns. HOW WOULD THEY REACT TO THE STABLES COMING OFF!!!

Just the amount of chaos has me foaming out the mouth. 

YANDERE BATFAM + YANDERE TODOROKI CLAN x READER

I tweaked your request a bit and added yan todo clan into the mix if you don’t mind anon? if you rather a version without them then feel free to request again!

I’ll prolly do a part two of this to expand more on the Todo family, Tim, Dick, and Bruce but who knows what my ADHD will hyperfixate on next.

God can I just say that I love Todoroki Clan v Batfam fics. However few and far between they are so I’ll be writing this with a Todoroki! Reader in mind. Perhaps a twin of Dabi.

status: unedited

Humans have a natural, visceral attraction to fire. One can’t help but be drawn to its glow.

You were born as Touya’s (fraternal) twin except your power didn’t have to rely on emotions.

You burned the day you were born. Hurting your mother in the process. Scalding her skin as she desperately tried to feed you despite the danger it meant to her well-being.

In spite of her growing hatred for her husband, you managed to sear your way into her heart and make your mark.

Rei adored you. You looked the most like her underneath all the flames and charred skin. She would coo at you while glaring at her failures. She would run her hands through your hair while the room slowly froze when hearing about that kid who asked for your hand in marriage.

You were her precious gem. A jewel amongst the icky, dark, coal the others call her children. She would do anything for you. Anything.

Enji had to admit. He loved you more than his ambitions himself. He abhorred the pained screams you’d make whenever you tried using your powers. Luckily, unlike his eldest son, you were much more susceptible to the idea of not becoming a hero. All of his attempts at another heir were all in hopes that you didn’t have to face the horrid world of villains.

Touya admired you ever since you two were little. Your parents would often speak of how he’d cry whenever you two were separated. Of how he’d wail whenever you’d get burnt by your own quirk as if he was the one who was hurt.

As you grew up, he grew distant. Envious of your flames that were already so strong. Angry that you born several steps ahead of him regardless of being his twin.

Natsuo and Fuyumi bore the brunt of his complaints. His parents were too entranced by your being so who else did he have to talk to?

It all came to a climax when Shouto gained his quirk. You’d never forget the hope draining from your twin’s visage. The flames that surrounded the two of you when he dragged you out into the woods only to take an attempt at your life.

As darkness consumed your vision, you reach out to your brother’s face and choked out as the smoke covered the two of you.

“I will . . . always . . . love you.”

You awoke to your parents in tears, the news that your twin’s body was never found, and your belongings packed in several bags.

You were to study far away. Have a new start. Where you’d forget your brother.

Gotham.

It was a place known for its crime rate, but Enji’s close friend Bruce promised he’d take care of you while you’re here.

You were greeted by one of his sons, Tim. He was around Fuyumi’s age and was utterly fascinated by your powers.

Through him you were able to appreciate your flames a little more. It was hard not to get close to him. You attended classes together, ate together, played together. He even made you equipment and salves that would ease the burns.

It wasn’t long before you found out about his vigilante persona and thus Bruce’s. But for the sake of safety (your own and their’s) you decided to keep that fact to yourself.

Dick often came by once in a while. It was rare but his visits started to become the highlights of your stay in Gotham. He was fun and energetic. Tim and Bruce were great and all but they always had an air of seriousness that reminded you all too well of your family back in Japan.

He’d often sneak you out and teach you some acrobatic moves. Through process of searching good old google about the Robins, you figured out he was Nightwing after a short while.

Although you absolutely despised them now, you couldn’t deny them their credit for reigniting your passion for heroics.

You started training on your own. Control was something you had already practiced in the past. You knew how to stop the flames when it flared up too much. But you never really got to the point of using it for attacks and combat.

You didn’t really get that far. The most you could do without getting suspicious was to ask your father for a tutor in self defense while only adding some of your flames for the extra damage.

Not to mention the fact that a fire based vigilante would definitely raise flags for the family you’ve been living with.

So you started your “hero” life without using much of your flames until such a time that you were able to either go back to Japan or move out to another state.

That’s when you met Jason. You didn’t know much about him at first. Only that he killed a bunch of the thugs that you were trying to handle on your own.

Without him you’d probably have been dead several times by now.

Thus you took it upon yourself to help him in any way you can.

From being a hindrance you slowly started becoming an essential asset to Jason’s patrols. So much so that he often would blow up if you disappeared for a week only to apologize profusely and buy you pizza when he found out you were gone because of exams.

Jason also made you discover a very important part of your power. While your quirk didn’t rely on emotions to be strong within itself, emotions still played a huge part of it.

And as he slowly placed his lips upon yours, a wall of flame sets off.

You never returned to him after that day.

Around your early adulthood, Damian was taken into the household.

It wasn’t that long before you figured out he had no filter and a lot of ego to boot.

He reminded you a lot of a cat. Your parents would never let you adopt one out of fear for you being scratched, or worse a cat barbecue so you often projected that childhood desire of yours to him.

So while he’d hurt you both physically and emotionally, you in turn would return whatever he gave with love and headpats.

It annoyed him to no end. Who were you to treat him like a baby? If it weren’t for your flames he could probably have you on the floor in a minute tops.

But whenever you’d disappear he realizes how much he enjoys your presence.

He was there when you came back after your encounter with Jason. Your burnt and tattered clothes.

He saw the news. He knew that you’ve been going out to save civilians with one of his predecessors. He knew all about your past and your powers.

And he knew that from this day forth, you were never going to leave the manor ever again.

GENERAL BATFAM TAGLIST: @the-sander-fander

[deaddovedecadence]

Title: Earrings

Warning(s): noncon body modification (ear piercing), possessive behavior, yandere shit, dead dove do not eat

Request(s): none

Summery: Fuyumi has lots of piercings and you make the mistake of asking her what they mean.

READ THE WARNINGS.

THIS IS A YANDERE BLOG.

DON’T LIKE DON’T READ

Fuyumi has earrings, four neat piercing, one stacked over the other, perfect studs, all four containing some type of jewel. You know the sapphire is for her twin because Touya has the same earrings in his own ears, in the same places the Fuyumi does. The pearl is for Natsou, of course, because Natsou’s powers are of water in the same way pearls are (infesting, rottening, making him like his family), the gold and ruby is for shouto, for his fire and ice (for his breaking and becoming) but you still don’t know what the amber stud represents, and today you’ve decided to ask her.

“Fuyumi?”

“Yes darling?”

“What is the amber stud for?”

“What do you mean my dear?”

“I mean you wear a sapphire for Touya, a pearl for Natsou, and a ruby for Shouto. What’s the amber for?”

She freezes, laughs a little, and really turns to face you. “It’s for you darling. I went and got it the day you joined the family.”

That’s the thing, you aren’t part of their family. You don’t belong here, won’t ever belong here. They took you from your home, from your family and sometimes it makes you sick to think about.

“I’m not a Todoroki, Fuyumi.”

She makes a little displeased sound that you know, know means bad things. “Why not dove?”

“You took me from my fuckiugn home, you kidnapped me. I don’t belong to any of you.”

She clicks her tongue, smiles, and picks up her phone, responding to a message, all the while you’re frozen in fear, trying not to scream from what you just said. How could you be so stupid as to make her angry? She’s scary on her own but with Touya behind her, she’s terrifying.

“Dove?” She says lightly, pulling your attention to her, “Did you know that all of our siblings have pierced ears?” You didn’t know that. You aren’t sure where this is going yet, but you know that you don’t like it.

Fuyumi picks up her phone again, texts someone and smiles. It’s not a kind smile, it’s a displeased one and that’s scary.

“I heard our snowflake wasnn’t listening today, hm?” It’s Touya. Your blood freezes up, and you want to throw up. If it were anyone but Touya, the situation might be manageable. Natsuo doesn’t care to hurt, hates the very idea, and Shou is so gentle that you couldn’t imagine him ever doing that but Touya, Touya is mean.

One time you called him. Dabi instead of Touya, and well, you still have the scar.

“Our snowflake seems to have forgotten where we all are in this family of ours.” Fuyumi says lightly, and you can feel Touya’s grin. “Well Yumi, I brought everything you asked for.” Fuyumi smiles, and it’s so fucking cold.

“Darling,” she says, obviously addressing you, “Sit down here please.” You take the ordered chair, freeze when you realize that in a moment, Fuyumi has snapped handcuffs to your hands, trapping you on the chair.

Like any logical person you start to struggle, panic invading like a parasite. A hand rests on your neck, cold and familiar. “Darling, if you keep moving Touya will mess up your new piercing.” Your vision whites you, and when you come to, Fuyumi is crouching in front of you. Her glasses flash, like the warning of an oncoming snowstorm, and she is silence, like the mountains before an avalanche. “Touya managed one of your piercings sweet thing but we still need to do this one. Can you be still for him or do I need to hold you?”

As there always with Fuyumi, there is a threat, a warning not to disobey. Touya is always the more obvious threat but Fuyumi is the cruelty that follows, the avalanche in the wake of violence, the punch of Touya’s scream.

“Can you hold me still?” You whisper, if only not to be complaint in your own torture. She smiles, smoothies, your hair back and suddenly your ears are piercing. The pain hits, like you’ve crashing into a wall, and although it is only a moment’’s worth, the hock of it has you crumbling in the chair.

As she always does, Fuyumi picks you up in the aftermath, gently shushing you. You end up squished between Touya and Fuyumi, the latter petting your hair.

“I didn’t even have to hold you still in the end darling. I’m so proud.”

A pit forms in your stomach when you realize that she’s right