#you guys remember dabi’s line as he burned down those trash right?

[dabislittlemouse]

“𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰~” Dabi says in a low husky voice, his scarred hand firmly pushing your head down to the pillow, while your back is beautifully arched, exposing your pretty bare ass for him, legs spread. Your sweet cunny glistening, weeping for his touch, his lusftul glare burning behind you, making you feel all hot and bothered. His lithe fingers teasingly slide along your slit, making you tremble under his touch. He’s hard, jeans tightening at his growing bulge while he is savouring your sight. He leans over, warm breath hitting your needy pussy, his wet tongue giving you a looong lick from behind, moaning while he does so. Your sweet is nectar driving him insane as his eyes roll back. His tongue does long licks on your drenched pussy, reaching up to your asshole, giving it some lovingly teasing licks as well. You can’t help but arch your back even more, pushing your ass back on his face to get more from that sinful tongue of his. Dabi smirks at how needy you’re getting, he sucks and licks your sore clit over and over before diving his tongue deep inside and slurping all your essence, turning you into a moaning writhing mess.

[linkspooky]

he flies he lies  hawks realizes that he has been telling the truth to the villains and lying to the heroes / For @villainmonth /edit by @inumaqi fic by @linkspooky

“Listen I want you to trust what I’m about to say.” “Those are some pretty serious words you’re saying…” 

♘

If you have wings, you should fly. That is what Hawks always believed. Feathers were designed by god to catch the air, they did not fall, they floated down. He could pluck one of his feathers, throw it into the sky and watch it dance. 

That was what freedom looked like. But looks were deceiving. His quirk manifested at four years old. He still remembered, terrified of the bulges that had formed on his back, but they could not afford a doctor. Trash that littered the floor, and parents that did not look his way because they considered himself like the garbage that piled up, something that needed to be thrown out. Hawks remembered thinking several times as he looked up at the sky, if he could escape to the sea or the sky, he would have flown away from here in an instant. His pain was prolonged for an entire month as something budded from his back. It felt like vines were growing out from him, and he felt every single thorn as they snaked out in the layers between his skin, and wrapped around his spine. He was cut, again and again, inside and out. Then one day, the skin on his back broke. He woke up with two long rivulets of blood streaming down from both sides of his back, an injury that made him look like an angel who had both wings ripped away from his flesh. Then at his upper backs, two large bones had emerged covered in feathers. 

On that first day he pulled those feathers old with a pair of rusty gardening shears out of fear because he did not know what was happening. A mess of blood, and feathers, and two wings plucked raw, but they grew back. It was when he spread his wings for the first time, that he realized he could not leave the ground. There was nowhere for him to fly. Nowhere he could escape to. 

♘

Hawks always had a feeling that he was lighter than air. That there was not enough of himself to fill up his own body. Birds needed to be that way in order to fly, their bones were hollow, and their lungs took up most of their body mass filling them with air. He had the same feeling, nothing inside of him, deep down to his bones. 

Wherever he walked his feet didn’t touch the ground. He was not flying so much as floating, transparent, hollow, he simply hovered there like a ghost with no substance. It was easy for him to smile, because there was no feeling behind the gesture to him. 

When he was younger he never smiled, he found no reason to, and one day he noticed the adults around him were a bit softer on him if he forced the muscles in his face to pull back his lips. Whatever was inside of him, he was sure it was not a hero. Not like All Might, never like him. He was hair, feathers, talons, scars, and bones. He was all of that, and he was still nothing. He was the blood in his body, but maybe only air flowed through his veins. There were holes in his bones. No, there were holes in Hawks. The air simply passed right through him. He was someone who was simply there. He was there and yet not there. But Hawks used this quality of his. Useless children were like trash piling up in the Takami Household, they were knocked down to the floor, and then they were eventually thrown away. He could smile when he did not feel like smiling. He could always continue to smile, even when there was no reason. He just needed to keep flying. Fly up, up, and up. And forget about crashing down back to earth. 

He just had to keep smiling, even now. That was what he told himself, as Jeanist turned his head back to look at him. “It’s rare for you to come visit me like this.” “How are you feeling?” Hawks, dressed like a model, his hair combed back and feathered, his wings stretching to relax. He took nothing seriously, he never had so much as a heavy thought cross his mind. Burdened by nothing, carefree, that was the “Hawks” that he showed to Jeanist. “Much better than before!” “Didn’t you ask that old lady over at UA for help?” “Unfortunately, she can’t recover something that has already been lost.” 

Hawks knew that already. For example if you sever a limb, an arm, a leg, or maybe your own heart. It’s impossible to recover, the only thing left is the phantom pain from something that is no longer there, and a feeling of missing something. 

Nothing held any weight for him. Not even a human life held that much in his hands. What he was about to do did not show on his face at all, not even a twitch of regret and Hawks wondered for a moment if he could do this and feel nothing if he was someone really worthy of being called a hero. 

Heroes saved other people. Hawks could not save anyone, not even himself. 

“Even with a missing lung, we humans can continue to live. I’ll probably go public with this soon. There are many awaiting my reformation.” “I see!” 

Liar. Humans could not continue to live. They were so fragile. They died so easily. That always weighed on his mind. The more weight he had, the harder it was to fly. When he saw butterflies, all he thought of was their fragility. He could let a butterfly land on his hands, and at any moment, tear both of his wings from his body and rip them to pieces, then scatter them like a flower. The faint beating of a butterfly’s wings. The paper thing wings, the fragile line between life and death, so easily torn up and full of holes. It moved in time with the quiet murmur of his heart. His wings flexed and spread behind his back. 

He always wondered when his feathers grew, why they turned from white to red. His feathers were bleeding, red with streaming blood. His feathers were burning, red as the flames. 

Like a white flower. Spilled blood would dye it red. It would glow red with flames. 

“That’s quite unfortunate.” Hawks wore, a predatory smile, a bird about to devour carrion. He held his sharpened feather in his hand cutting his fingers on the edges. He was killing someone already as good as dead. He felt nothing, but also he felt -fragile.

More scared than the butterfly. His bones were hollow and soon they would shatter like glass. 

He was not flying, not at all. His feet did not touch the ground because he was hanging in suspension. The rope tightened around his neck, but he took a step forward off the chair to fall. The wind whipped him back and forth. All he could do was sway, and hope when this was all over someone would take his body down. He died by slow suffocation. He was free, surrounded entirely by air, and he could not breathe.

Hawks knew, killing Jeanist would be as good as killing himself. In that moment he would die. But, he would not be allowed to die either. Even after sacrificing his life there was more he could sacrifice, more the hero commission could take from him. Hawks thought it was funny, he never thought he had much to begin with, no connection to his name, no nest to roost in, and nothing inside of him but hollow bones and yet somehow the hero commission always took more. Being a hero was all he had. He brought the feather up, and slashed it behind Jeanist’s back, killing him like a coward. But, he could not call himself a hero anymore.

♘

The only piece that matters on the board is the king, the rest are all considered disposable. In shogi a player could still win as long as their king remained. Hawks was a useful knight, even a general, but he was someone who could never become king. A king had worth, and he was damaged goods, recycled and put to use by the hero commission after his parents threw him away. He flew through the air, trying to forget the body he had stuffed in a bag. If Jeanist was still here, if he could hear him, Hawks could only say that whatever happened to him in the end would be far worse. 

He saw this image in his dreams so many times. His feathers burning up in front of him, he watched them combust. They fell away from him like glittering stars. Sparkling, sparkling, sparkling. His wings melted and he realized he could no longer fly. Without wings he would just be a broken thing, a damaged kid. When would it be his turn to fall apart? When would it be his turn to crash back down to earth? It was as inevitable as gravity. 

Then, there was no flying. There was only falling. Maybe he never once flew. Maybe he was just falling slowly. Dabi’s skin is torn up and sewn together from pieces,  and he smiles even though it rips his lip. Hawks wonders if it’s painful for that man to smile too, his eyes linger on the lips as he tihnks of his own. His every smile was a lie. To live here, he needed to breathe lies. “I’m curious why this guy? You could have picked someone lower on the list.” 

Hawks just needs to tell another lie. The Hawks in front of Dabi right now, is someone who sympathizes with the cause of the villains, an unwitting pawn, but also too valuable a piece to throw away. 

He smiles and realizes nothing. He knows nothing. He does not know who his real enemies are. 

“Because he was useless.” 

That was his own voice. “Useless heroes get thrown out.” He heard the sound of his own voice. Why was he... “They’re only worth the results they can produce for the commision.Despite everything he’s done for them, the second he became a burden they would have let him take the fall anyway.” 

Why was he telling the truth? Lie to the villains, deceive the villains, report back to the heroes. The mission was so simple, except for this one complicating factor. A knot in the rope he tied around his neck. Dabi will laugh at him. Just like in front of Endeavor, just like with the hero he killed, he will play it all like one big joke. Dabi is just a murderer. To kill people he must have felt nothing at all.

Just like me.

Hawks feels himself grinding his own teeth when he did not mean to. His mask is cracked, and Dabi was going to see him for what he really was. He was going to die now, burned up in Dabi’s sun. He saw Dabi reach his hand forward and closed his eyes in anticipation. A hand. On his shoulder. Someone holding him, touching him. He was touched and he did not break, even though he was fragile. Heavy, far too heavy. “We don’t do that here.” Dabi said, his fingers clasping, tightening around him. His hands are, so unbelievably warm and birds are cold blooded animals. “Don’t worry so much, you look like the kind of useless guy that’s always worrying.” “No way, you’ve got to have brains to have the headspace to be worrying. I’mlike a chicken with his head cutoff.” “Yeah, whatever.” Dabi said, not believing him. “You’re such a shitty liar.”

♘

He was a bad liar. Those words remained in his head, even after he left Deika city. Back on his home turf, he took up roost in a high place. Whenever Dabi asked him to meet he always picked somewhere up high if he got the choice. So idiots prefer high places, huh? Dabi would mock him. His head was empty now. He wanted to cut his head off and throw it into the sky. Maybe then he would finally become a bird. He was thinking of that, and he was thinking that they sky in front of his eyes seemed endless. But there was nothing to see. He jumped down and wondered what would happen if he did not spread his wings. He would fall, obviously. And then he would splat. But after that he would be free. He just needed to let go and fall. He had been waiting his whole life for the rope to snap.

He was born with wings. He had no idea why. There was nothing in the sky. 

He spread his wings out to catch himself at the last minute, and the people around him clapped and cheered. As he landed on a stop sign, a child asked him. “Hawks-san, what’s it like to be a hero?” “You save other people.” “I bet you can save anyone! I’ve always wanted to be a hero, is it fun? Are you happy?”  His hands. Bright red. Jeanist’s blood. He shoved them in his pockets. “Mm, being a hero is all I ever really wanted -” His mouth moved. He was the one talking. And somebody else’s voice came out. He could not hear his own voice anymore. A lie.  “I’m really happy like this.” You’re such a shitty liar. 

[rainkandysux]

Lost Siblings

Paring: Dabi X FemReader

Rating: E

Word Count: 2,039

Summary: Siblings can only hold a family together if they’re there.

Warnings: 17+ explicit content, death

You watched your younger sister play with another girl close in age. The white and red highlighted hair of her playmate contrasted your sister’s onyx curls. You sigh as you check the time: 05:03PM. You two were overdue at getting back to the house you shared with several other orphans trying to stay out of the streets. Before you could reach your sister, a tallish, lanky redhead with two more of his siblings approached the thirteen-year-old girls.  

“Let’s go, Fuyumi. Say bye to your new friend,” the boy requested politely despite his bored tone.  

“I’m not her new friend. We play here every Friday,” your sister tartly replied.  

The boy’s eyes squinted in irritation. That was when you noticed their brilliant shade of turquoise, catching your breath as they turned to your direction. The stunning color wasn’t the only thing you noticed though. Bandages peeked from underneath his collar and long sleeves.  

“Oh, um, sorry about her attitude...” you trailed in discomfort.  

“I told you to hurry up, Touya!” A large man yelled towards the group of kids.  

The boy in question sighed in disgust before returning his attention to you. He studied your odd reaction to Endeavor. Most people's faces would brighten at seeing the Number Two Hero out of uniform and posing as a domesticated father, but your face appeared drained of color.  

“Come on, sis, we really need to go,” you mumbled as you snatched your sister’s hand to lead her away. You were too late though. The beast of a hero had already spotted your retreating form.  

“Hey, wait you little brat! Weren’t you the one I caught stealing from the market downtown?” Enji Todoroki shouted, his orange flames already cloaking him.  

She was stealing from a market? Was she taking food? Touya thought as he finally took note of your shaggy appearance as you ran away.  

You and your sister managed to get out of Endeavor’s reach before he made it to where his children stood by in uncertainty.  

“Fuyumi, you need to learn to stay away from garbage. Those girls are nothing more than trash. I wouldn’t be surprised if they get caught up in worse than the petty thieving they’ve been doing recently. The oldest one has a quirk that lets her powerup for short bursts of time. That’s how she was able to get away from your old man,” Endeavor laughed as he packed his kids into the family car.  

“Powerup? Like getting stronger and faster? Does she get bigger when she does that?” Shouto asked solemnly as he watched his sister cry. The girl she was playing with didn’t look like a bad guy. Neither did her older sister that his father criminalized.

“Her body glows like a lantern and the next thing you know, she’s able to break free from any type of restraint,” his dad elaborated for him.  

“So, what was it that she stole? What did she take that required you to be forceful?” Touya voiced, the grit in his tone made his questions sound as harsh as he intended them to.  

“...the um, store owner said she had taken some instant meals...”

“Way to go dad. I wonder what they ate for supper last night,” Natsuo added, taking Touya’s side.  

TEN YEARS LATER

Your younger sister died exactly one year ago, and you weren’t accepting it very well. A drug deal had gone wrong and you weren’t there to protect her. You still waited on the balcony of your apartment for her to twinkle her fingertip lights to let you know that her mission was a success, not the failure it had been.

One whole year you did this, waiting for her to shine her starlight beams to let you know that you weren’t alone. Every night you had perched there, desperately begging for her beautiful glow to brighten the blackness around you.  

You knew that wasn’t going to happen though. You remembered how cold she felt as her firefly soul burned away from her when you found her. You remembered, but you didn’t want to accept it.  

Now, you had only yourself to provide for. It was financially easier. Physically easier? No. Emotionally? Absolutely not. You had gotten sloppy after your sister’s death. As a result, you had gotten caught one too many times and now heroes were on your trail. You even had to relocate to a slummier place which was where you found yourself now, balancing on the balcony of the cheapest place you could find.  

No one recognized you here and if they did, you knew their own criminal records exceeded your own. Since you botched too many thefts, you now got money investing in drugs and worse— prostitution. Neither was something you were proud of, but at least you were surviving.  

Tonight was one of the sleezy ones. Usually, you’d find some businesspeople in their late fifties to mess around with. They always seemed to like how cute you were compared to the other options in the area. Just because you fucked your way through life didn’t mean that you didn’t take care of your looks. You wanted to be presentable in case you ever got a second chance at living a normal life.  

You were in your mid-twenties, so that dream of working as a schoolteacher was pretty much null. Still, you had aged gracefully. You could pull off as a ripe eighteen-year-old fresh out of high school if you ever decided to form a new identity.  

Your youthfulness is what helped you land some wealthy clients too. The uppity men liked your babyface. You sighed as you made your way out of your apartment and towards the now booming club down the street.  

Your eyes picked through the line outside the club in search of your next plaything. You were about to settle for a grey-haired man in a black suit when a lean figure slouching on a box in the back alley caught your attention.  

His startling blue eyes glanced over you as he lit the cigarette balancing between his scarred lips. You knew those eyes even if they were on a face hidden behind purple flesh and dyed, black hair. What had happened to him? What had happened to Endeavor’s son?

Before you even knew what you were doing, you were already slouching on a box opposite of him.  

“How much?” He asked, cyan eyes never leaving the cleavage you had poking free from your low-cut top.  

“Oh...I...really don’t need much...” you trailed, embarrassed that he had figured out your current profession. You weren’t planning on doing anything other than question him about why he was here and obviously damaged. You hoped he didn’t recognize you.  

He shrugged before he hopped down to lead you away. Soon, you were in his room that held a single bed, a nightstand, and an open suitcase.  

You were used to all types of sexual positions and appetites. Still, you weren’t prepared for this man’s roughness. Maybe it was the fact that you had known him when you were young teenagers and expected him to behave as one would.  

However, he wasn’t fifteen anymore. He was a decade older just like you. If his scarring was anything to go by, those ten years had been just as bad for him as it had been for you.  

Dabi knew what you wanted. He knew you came to him, seeing his youth as a nice break from the old creeps you were used to. He knew you assumed that he wouldn’t ask for your body, but you were stupid and naïve to think he wouldn’t. You were an idiot if you thought he would be gentle just because your little sisters had been friends.  

You were foolish if you thought you were going to get any form of intimacy from this interaction. He wanted to punish you for proving his father right. You were trash that had gotten involved in more than ‘petty thieving’ as his old man had phrased it. How you could do that? How you could prove that bastard right?

Touya was dead and so was his compassion. He burned your clothes off your shivering body and roughly bent you over facedown on the bed. He wouldn’t be able to punish you properly if your beautiful eyes looked at him.  

He took your hair into his fist and held your head down so that you couldn’t look back at him. You gasped into the mattress he smothered you in. His free hand didn’t even stimulate you before you felt his hardened cock force its way into your unprepared slit.  

He hoped his lack of care prevented you from getting off, that his unprecedented harshness left you bruised and unsatisfied. What he did not plan for was for you to twitch in pleasure and groan his fucking name out so casually.  

“Mmm, Touya,” you accidentally muttered as you felt your walls clench around his thrusting dick. You didn’t even know why you said it.  

He pulled out irritably to stop your orgasm. The hand that was tangled in your hair jerked your head to his cock. Your eyes widened at the size, unsure if you would be able to handle it without gagging. You weren’t ready, but he popped open your mouth with the tip of it as pre-cum dripped from it. Minutes later, he exploded and you felt the cum slide down your throat as you swallowed.  

You quickly pulled free, wiping your mouth. You pushed him away as the shame you felt filled you up fuller than his seed. You were in his bathroom now, examining the mascara that sloppily ran down your face thanks to the tears you were not able to hold back trickled down your cheeks.  

You washed your face, tied your hair up into a messy bun, and put on V-neck t-shirt and sweatpants you found on the floor. You waited a few minutes to gather whatever remained of your dignity before you reopened the door to his room.  

Fortunately, he wasn’t there. A wad of cash waited on the bed for you. Despite your wish to simply leave it there, you didn’t feel like going hungry that weekend.  

You took it and all but ran from the building, hoping to never see those ocean eyes again. Dabi watched your retreating form in slight regret. He had been touch-deprived for a long time and he knew you would have shown him the affection his broken soul craved. He didn’t have time be soft, though, and neither did you if you were going to make it in this crooked hero society.  

Still, he felt guilty for being so cruel, so he followed you. He watched your previously pouting face light up as you counted the amount he gave you. He had given you enough to pay rent and get enough food to last you a week. This meant that you could stay off your back (and knees and stomach for god’s sake) for a while!  

You wished your sister was here to celebrate the haul with you. You decided to splurge and buy her favorite type of strawberry cake. Little did you know that the man that had given you more than you expected was shadowing you as you talked to your deceased sister.  

Soon, you were back on your balcony and sitting in silent solitude. You lit the single candle to symbolize the one year she was gone as you stuffed it into the cake.  

“It’s been a miserable fucking year, sis. I hope you’re flying high. I hope you’re happier now that you don’t have to hurt anymore. I love and miss you,” you choked as you finally accepted her death. Tears fell freely as you pulled your knees up to your chest.  

Touya watched as you mourned your sister’s death. He thought of his own siblings and how he wished he could have been stronger for them. He wished he could forget who he was. Maybe he should have been kinder to you. He knew your routes, your dealers. He couldn’t fix his family, but he could try to undo the damage he inflicted on you.  Yes, he’d be much kinder next time.