Light Angst - Blog Posts

Calm Before The Storm

There were no more Yellows now. Which as a result meant no more mercy, or grace periods. No one would show kindness anymore, not when the entire world was against you. Allies would only be standing in your way. Hindrances to success.

Scott stood at the diving board, staring out upon the server. He could see everyone beginning to head back to their bases clearly. His fingers itched, the way they always did when he was Red, slowly finding his bow and holding it up. An arrow was nocked, aimed and ready for someone's head. He didn't know whose head. It didn't matter in the end. They were all just heads on bodies waiting to be chopped off.

Shaking himself out of it, he lowered his bow and put the arrow back in its quiver.

Gem was sat on the floor with her sword in her lap. A strand of hair fell over her eyes and she hastily brushed it away. She stared at her reflection in the sword, a frown tugging at her lips, tilting it this way and that presumably to find a noticeable change.

Everyone felt different as a Red.

No one knew how. There were no physical differences to before, no changes in demeanour or personality. A player didn't instantly grow cold and calculated with an intense thirst for blood. The bloodlust was always inside of them. It just never arose as a Green or a Yellow. It simmered in their stomachs on a low heat, only to have the temperature rocket up and the pot overflow, teeming with the urge to kill. The need to have blood on your fingers. To feel the weight of a weapon in your hands, or to hold the lever to set off a TNT trap.

Many tried to look for a difference. It was quite common for players unfamiliar with the game to do so. They always believed there to be something wrong with them physically, and resorted to searching for changes in what little time they had on their hands.

They never found anything, sadly, but no one did.

"Gem," Scott began, walking over to her. She lifted her eyes to his for a moment, then looked back down at her sword. "Gem." he repeated, firmer. She paid him no mind. Apparently a reflection was more important than her teammate.

Impulse stepped out of his house and sat next to Gem. He stretched his arms and placed his palms in the grass, running his hands through the blades. Like many other players, his hands were riddled with scars, burns, blisters and callouses. "What's up?"

"That's the problem," Scott replied. "Nothing. Nothing is happening."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Impulse asked. "I mean, that means we have time to prepare for an attack, or a trap." He nudged Gem with his arm playfully. "Right Gem?"

She didn't respond.

Scott leaned in a little closer and sighed. Her eyes had glazed over. Again.

"Third time today." he grumbled.

Standing up, Impulse bent down to scoop Gem up into his arms and made a start for the gate. He gestured with his head for Scott to follow, and follow he did. He opened the gate for Impulse, and the two of them descended down the stairs and walked past the Secret Keeper statue. The mere sight of it was enough to send shivers down Scott's spine and make him want to run.

They stopped by Cleo's first. Unsurprisingly, Etho was there too.

"What is it?" Cleo asked. She whispered something in Etho's ear and he nodded, scurrying off quickly.

Once his receding footsteps were out of earshot, Scott answered. "It's happening again. I'm gathering some of the players."

She nodded, gradually understanding. "Alright, just give me a moment to grab my things." she disappeared.

Scott stood there, impatiently tapping his foot until Etho arrived with Grian in tow. Both of them were holding bundles of blankets with some snacks thrown in there for good measure. Grian yawned, attempting to rub his eyes.

Cleo reemerged a short while later with more snacks and some water.

The group left and headed towards Pearl's, where Scott broke off from the group to retrieve an additional guest. Before he could even knock on the door, Martyn was outside with all his stuff, a small smile on his face.

"Cleo messaged me," he explained. Scott walked alongside him back to Pearl's, where everyone was sat waiting. Some of them weren't able to join them, so it wasn't quite as full a group as usual, but it was still something.

He took some of the blankets from Martyn and laid them out on the floor. Everyone else did the same, then sat down.

Gem was the last one to sit. Impulse had to guide her to an available spot and gently lower her until she was perched on the edge. Her eyes were still glazed, but a fraction of light and normalcy was returning to them already.

Scott sat down beside Impulse, with Martyn's head in his lap. He absent-mindedly twirled strands of Martyn's hair whilst humming a small tune. He couldn't recall where he'd heard it; perhaps in passing, in the space between the games, or maybe it had been playing when he was in a different server. It sounded similar to a drinking song, so maybe it had been from Pirates.

"Now what?" Grian asked. He perched himself far from the others, but close enough to Cleo and Etho to reach them in case of an unfortunate event. His gaze was on Gem, his eyes narrowing mildly.

Etho chimed in. "We hang out. Eat. Talk. And we wait for Gem to come back."

Cleo nodded in agreement, a small smile curling at her lips. Her hand met Etho's, and their fingers entwined.

---

It took a while for Gem to come back fully. She'd return in brief fits, then leave soon after. It was like flicking a switch on and off repeatedly, only more stressful and each wait seemed to stretch on for eternity.

But once she started to ground herself, it became easier.

Her thoughts were a swirling mass of death, flashes of red every time she shut her eyes. Something was wrong with her. Something had changed, but what? What had changed so drastically about her?

She looked the same. Felt the same. Even tasted the same, which she tested herself (although maybe she did taste different and simply didn't notice.)

But something about her must have been wrong.

She was wrong. A freak. A creature of her own design or maybe someone else's.

Whenever she came to, she was surrounded by people. Impulse's hand on her knee, fingers tapping along to a rhythm. Scott humming a tune, playing with Martyn's hair, his hums occasionally turning into snippets of song lyrics. Cleo and Etho holding hands and smiling, Etho's head on cleo's shoulder, eyes shut in contentment. Grian watching warily. Pearl next to him with a calming hand on his shoulder.

A pang struck her heart when she came to.

They were all here for her. They'd dropped whatever they were doing, for her.

She was important to them.

Gem fell back again into that whirlpool of thoughts. They swirled viciously in her mind, growling and barking and biting like a pack of rabid wolves. Their fur was the colour of blood, and Their eyes were pools of purple. A strange black liquid oozed from Their fangs and dripped onto the ground. They approached from all sides, closing in slowly, leaving Gem less and less time to escape.

Panic bubbled in her chest and she balled the clumps of her shirt in her hands, trying to remember how to breathe.

"You're okay," Impulse's voice whispered in her mind. Was she? She didn't feel like it. "I've got you."

She almost laughed at the thought. He didn't. Not only because she was here and he was out there but also because no one could ever truly have Gem secure in their company. There was always that thin line, that tightrope of danger she was obliged to walk on. One misstep and she fell back into that world of blood, wolves and that rising sense of fear.

"Gem, we're here for you. Take your time." Cleo.

"You've got this," was a half-hearted encouragement from Martyn. He yelped, grumbled under his breath, then hastily added, "I believe in you!"

A hand gently squeezed her kneecap. She saw it, saw the hand, but not the hand at the same time. It flickered in and out of physicality, not wanting to be there for too long. Then it settled into reality with a firm determination.

Something else appeared, too. A shaky apparition, a figure bathed in sunlight. His wings were folded against his back, his red sweater worn and fraying. There was a scar on his temple, and a bruise on his cheek. A second appeared closer to her, gently illuminated by small floating stars, his pointed ears sharp and alert. Then came another, in a cloak of woven moonlight, a toothy smile revealing her elongated canines.

Then finally came one surrounded by a thick outline of red. There was a pendant around his neck of a hand grasping an hourglass.

They all smiled kindly at her, their faces coming into visibility slowly. Everything unnatural about them faded away until they were simply Grian, Scott, Pearl and Martyn, all still in their respective positions.

"Welcome back," Etho greeted.

Scott exhaled in relief, his hand falling to his side. Martyn frowned at its absence, sitting up properly. His hand crept into Scott's lap and rested on his thigh. A grin curled at Scott's lips.

Gem leaned into Impulse. "I'm tired." she whispered, not trusting her voice enough to raise it much more. Still, her words carried across to the others and a blanket was tossed her way. She caught it easily - surprisingly enough, but that must've been a good thing if her reflexes were already coming back - and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"G'night," Martyn said, letting gravity push him backwards. Scott fell with him, letting out a displeased noise when his back hit the ground. "Let's all have a five minute grace period before killing each other, yeah?"

They all mumbled their assent.

Gem and Impulse lay down, close but not touching. She couldn't touch him just yet; her body still didn't quite feel as it should. But when it did, she'd hug him.

Until then, she'd have to rest.

A Red Life was many things; vicious, unforgiving, spiteful, vengeful.

But they were also kind, gentle and merciful when the time called for it.

If you need animation memes then oh BOY do I have a good one for you :heh:

Twisted Glisten and....

hear me out...

COPACABANA

I literally made a storyboard for it a while ago

Kinda scuffed but it's ok :P

Also you can do whatever for "she lost her tony" because *I* don't wanna start a shipping war /silly

Idk bro i’m late to this

I need animatic meme ideas btw thanks pookies ❤️

The New V Part 2

Uzi finds herself missing V. Wishing she would come back. But be careful of what you wish for! (Post episode 7, Uzi isn't in space anymore, sorry about that.) But this time it's not a cliffhanger.

💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛

"Uzi...?"

"V?!"

An ear-splitting silence rang, and everyone could hear it. The subjects looked at one another."Uzi!" V ran the small distance between them but came to a halt upon seeing her face. A face of fear. Like when they first met.

"Th-This has to be some sick joke.." The purple drone whimpered, "Right?!" She backed away, visor displaying hollowed-out eyes, screen glitching as her voice altered slightly. She had dreamt and longed for V for so long. Why did she now feel like she was living in a nightmare with her presence here?

Uzi shook slightly, wobbly legs slowly carrying her to the direction of the colony bunker, mind racing, and sensors heating up far too quickly for her liking. She looked up at her father, like a small and helpless child. Did he know about this? What about Thad? Or Lizzy? Or J? Wait... no, yeah, J would definitely do this to her.

"Did you do this?" She looked and pointed at J. As the female Disassembly Drone glared with a shake of her head, Uzi began theorising who did this. A long, defeaning silence fell on the group. A tiny crunch of the snow was heard, and V, looking bigger from Uzi's perspective, made her act quickly.

She flinched away the moment she saw V inching closer, who seemed startled at the sudden movement. Realising it was now or never, Uzi took off running as fast as she had come.

♤

Why had she come so quickly in the first place? She thought they found V's remains or some sort of part of her. Maybe a recording of her death. That would've made her calm down more than to see her back and polished. This wasn't the V she thought was there before the elevator fell. That V would be in ruins, not brand-new, and yet, she was there, outside the landing pod.

The hardest thing about this was the fact that Uzi could barely pinpoint how she felt about this, but the easiest way to learn how you feel about something is to understand it clearer.

First thing the next night, she will find J and ask her how V had been seemingly revived. She had to know.

She just had to.Staring upon the ceiling, the purple lights seem to be shining brighter on the photograph above her bed. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up for it.

It was her and V having their first kiss together right after they came back from camp.

♤

"Come in." The voice drawled, the pod door creaked open. "What do you want?" The drone asked, her hand moved a strand of her bangs to see the one who opened the door.

"Is V here? Not that I really care, y'know I just..." Uzi took a deep breath before repeating the initial question. "Is V here?"

J looked at her, pausing from her writing on the notepad she had equipped on her hands, her expression of seriousness faltering into one of confusion. "Uh, yeah, she's just outside. You must have not noticed her when you went in. How did you not see her?"

"Oh.." Uzi sighed, taking a step backwards, her boot hitting the snow that blanketed the entirety of the planet.

Closing the door after a quick thanks, Uzi looked around the spire, from retracing her steps from the entrance, to craning her neck to look up at the ceiling, to the back, cobwebs in the corners.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She wasn't there."V..?" Uzi uttered, her voice cracking. Never had she thought to say that name again.Well, she never thought any of this would happen, and yet, here she was!

There was a faint yellow light on the ceiling of the spire, squeezed in at the top. Calling her name out again, the glow blinked.

"V, please! Look, I.. I shouldn't have been so terrified... but you just came out of nowhere! Like, I am here, mourning over your stupid death, then you just pop back in?!" She yelled, stomping on the ground. "Like, who does that? No being eased into it? No evidence you're actually you? Not even an explanation? Nothing? Anything could've helped, but no, you just came back without any sort of heads-up! Just waltz back into my life after sacrificing yourself and an ominous 'Uzi I trust you'? Yeah, sure, whatever! Maybe I was better off without you! I never desperately needed you anyway! I never needed anyone to mess up my feelings! Especially not a fricken murderer! You should've just left! I'd have more peace, you stupid, inconsiderate-"

Silence.

The yellow light began shaking, shivering, and the glow disappeared, similar to eyes closing.

A sigh echoed off the walls, and Uzi's face had guilt written all over it.

"Look... V. I-I'm sorry... really am," She whispered, sitting atop the frigid snow, her voice shaky from the screaming. "and I totally get if you need time to recharge. I'll wait right here for you, the same way you always waited for me when I had my angsty teen outbursts..." she chuckled softly. As her vision dimmed, her eyes closuig slow enough to see the yellow glow opening up again quickly.

♤

The unfamiliar weight on her left side disappeared, falling instead upon her chest. Looking down, she felt her sensors heating up.

"Hey... V." Uzi smiled, giving her a hug. V's arms wrapped around her, both drones' internal fans working overtime from the sudden warmth threatening to overheat them, mimicking a cat's purr. Both girls were smiling so broadly their cheeks were aching, but it didn't matter.

"Aw…" V's voice came out in a soft laugh. It was nice to hear it again without being deathly afraid of it.

Uzi's eyes hollowed for a split second, remembering what she said to V a few hours prior. Guilt overtook her again, her chest tightening so bad she felt like she was crumpled up.

"Uzi-"

"I'm so sorry. I should've calmed down, I should've just taken control of my emotions, I should've - "

"Hey, hey..." she grazed Uzi's cheek with her hand. Though it was a cold metal, it felt as if it was actively melting it off.

"It's okay."

"I forgive you."

...

One question remained, however. How did V come back polished and new in the first place?

When Uzi voiced her thought to V, she bit her lip, almost as if she was avoiding the question.

"Well, it seemed that Cyn had copies of the Disassembly Drones floating in pods around the exoplanets. This means she can replace us whenever. She must've had us on auto-replacing, though, so whenever we break, a new one will fly here with all the memories we had before."

…

"I couldn't have come earlier, I'm so sorry, I couldn't. It was out of my control."

"It's fine. The important thing is that you're back.

"They interlocked fingers that were resting on the snow."It's good to have you back."

The New V PT1

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Uzi finds herself missing V. Wishing she would come back. But be careful of what you wish for! (Post episode 7, Uzi isn't in space anymore, sorry about that.)

Step. Step. Step.

"V! Are you in here?" The light illuminated the pod. Hot pink, digital eyes darted from side to side, taking only a quick glance at the darkness which enveloped the area. "Lizzy who's the friend you're looking for again?" Thad asked curiously. He had heard about this 'friend' for a few hours, the one letter name made her sound like a Disassembly Drone like Uzi's friend.

"V. I brought her to prom a few months ago you dumbass," Lizzy reminded him, "short silver hair, addicted to murder, that sort of girl"

"I really don't think she's here. Don't you think it's time to..."

"Wait shut up, shut up, I hear something outside!" Lizzy bolted outside to see another worker drone she didn't recognise. A question mark was displayed on her screen."Oh, hey Zi!" Thad smiled and waved, sprinting to the purple-haired drone and raising his hand for a high-five. Uzi did nothing, a stoic expression on her screen before she seemed to snap out of it, awkwardly smiling.

"Hi, Thad... Lizzy" she greeted hoarsely.

"Where's V?" The tallest of the drones questioned Uzi before adding on "We've been looking all over the place for her and she isn't responding to my texts!" Her tone was worried, something the both had never seen from her frequently.

"She..." Uzi began, but her voice box stopped. She began whimpering and shaking, barely being able to stand on her two feet.

"Uzi...?" Thad slowly put his hand on his friend's shoulder, but she stepped back and whimpered, as if it were revoking a memory

♤

Trudging through the thick snow that blanketed the ground with his arm carefully around her shoulders to help stabilise her, Thad was walking with Uzi, hearing taps and clicks from Lizzy, who was frantically texting as fast as her metal fingers could go.

"Uzi... do you wanna tell us what's wrong?" Thad inquired for what felt like the hundredth time. He usually wasn't one to pry into people's businesses, but this was his friend.

"No! Bite me!" She hissed, looking the other direction but not moving away.

Truth be told; the drone she was refusing to talk about always wrapped her arm around Uzi that way when she felt the need to protect her. It was nice to feel that again. Even in a platonic sense like it was when Thad did it.

"Fine then." He huffed, giving up on getting anything out of her yet. "We're here by the way." He said, letting go of her, looking up at a metal door that read: 'DOORMAN'

♤

"Uzi... your friends are here... if you could come out that'd be-"

"BITE ME! I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Soft whimpers could be heard from the room directly afterwards.It seemed like she had been isolating herself in her room more often after camp. Hiding behind doors.

Ironic how now the only thing Khan wanted was to get rid of the wretched thing.

He peeked through the hinges, purple light spilling through the gaps. Papers no longer scattered on the floors like how they used to be.

"Uzi, I know how it-"

Khan suddenly felt the ground shake a bit, he stumbled backwards.The door had swung open, surprisingly not detaching from the wall.

"NO! NO YOU WOULDN'T! HAVE YOU BEEN PROMISED THAT YOU'D BE ABLE TO ACTUALLY BE WITH THE PERSON YOU COULDN'T HAVE BEEN WITH ONCE 'THIS IS ALL OVER'?!" Pause. Uzi was trying to catch her breath, flinching when he slowly put his hand on her shoulder, then taking it off and sitting on the cold and hard floor.

Khan's mind was racing. His white eyes softening as he processed each and every word his daughter had spoken, not daring to look up.

"Yes. Yes I would have an idea of what you're going through. With your mother."

Khan was shivering, not from the non-existent cold air surrounding them, rather the memory haunting him of when Nori had repeatedly told him the same thing.

"She'd always say that once she could control her Solver abilities completely... we could be a normal family.

"Khan chuckled a little bit, reminiscing of some days, he'd wake up and get terrified of that one day he'd need to face reality that it couldn't work out. And how Nori would stay up with him, stay optimistic. She whole-heartedly believed she would fix her Solver before it got to that point. Or atleast, that's what she told him.

His hands were on his forehead, elbows on his knees and his head faced down, not wanting to remember those times knowing the outcome that they both hoped for never came to be."Dad..." Uzi began, but didn't finish.

"I-If you just want to have space or alone time or anything then, well, I'm happy to give it." Khan smiled, wanting to make thing right for his previous wrongdoings by giving Uzi the peace and quiet he wished people gave him when he had to put Nori down.It wasn't nearly enough to fix his neglect for her well-being all these years, but it was a start. He would start to fix things.

As he was about to stand up, a force shoved him back slightly.It was a hug. Given by Uzi. He had forgotten how this felt. "If it's okay with you, we can grieve together...?" She suggested, virtual tears on her violet eyes.A silence so loud rang. But it was an awkward silence.

"More than okay." Khan simply said, returning the embrace.A knock on the door was heard. Uzi let go of her father. He got up and went to the door, leaving Uzi with her emotions.Her anguish over V's death will likely stay for however long it wants. But at least she has somebody to relate with, somebody who constantly could be near her, somebody who-

"Uzi...?" Khan sounded worried. She looked over to see J at the door.

"It's V." J whispered.

♤

"Uzi slow down!" Khan huffed, following Uzi, who was already ahead of J. The snow crunching below her boots.Coming to a halt, ice on her clothes, her body froze as she saw the last drone she'd ever think to see again.

"Uzi...?"

"V?!"

I want the time back but not the thoughts, for they gave me lines of poetry you'd never compare to.

I want the tears back but not the lesson, for they gave me pages of introspection you'd never be able to achieve.

I want the overthinking back but not the drawls, for it gave me passages of comfort you'd never be able to give.

I want the happiness back but not the old me, for it gave me a better shield towards life I hope you never get.

.Girl hear me out please . I wanted to ask if you could do a reader (who's also mark's girlfriend from invincible) that has the ability to manipulate time and because of that power she has a calm, logical, and emotionally reserved nature and having a strong sense of control and are often level-headed, even in stressful situations since she has future vision as well so she knows the outcome of every situation. This in tail make her struggle to process and express emotions in the present moment due to her precognitive abilities. This leads to a perceived coldness and detachment, especially when contrasted with anyones emotional intensity. Basically because she knows the outcome in every situation she doesn't express any emotion in the present. So the scenario is that reader knew that nolan would not only get rid of old guardians but also try to do the same with mark at season 1 but didn't say anything because she knew it was necessary for mark and earth development. How would mark and the others(new guardians and cecil) react to learning this information .

Sorry if it's alot I just had this idea in my head for a few and wanted to share it .

I didn’t know if you wanted this to have a bad ending or good ending so I wrote both… I also added to the powers so it’s more fleshed out and added downsides. I hope you enjoy!

Reader: Fem!Reader, Gn!Reader

Fandom: Invincible

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　.   　　˚　✭　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　✭　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　　　 ✦ ˚　　　　✦　

You had to keep your ability to manipulate time and predict the future a secret because of how it fared for you in the past. Your powers can control time, but only in limited portions. You could try to reverse time, but the most you can do is a couple minutes and it takes a severe toll on your body, same with speeding up time, or slowing it down so it’s in slow motion for you. On a rare occasion you can freeze all of time, so you can be the only one moving, but this is even more draining and if you aren’t careful you can slip into a deep sleep for a day or two. You can see possibilities, that will depend on certain actions- then there’s future events that no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop. It’s like a cannon event, except there is truly no way to stop it- life will find a way for this event to happen.

The only one who knows of this ability is Cecil, and you just have to pretend you're a regular person who just happens to help out at the GDA.

When you start dating Mark, he is like a lost puppy, trying to constantly understand if he did something wrong, or if that’s how you always are.

He eventually grows a little used to it, but it’s obvious that he wishes he could understand what is going on in your brain.

Due to you helping out at the GDA, you work around the new guardians when they do arrive.

When you worked with the old guardians, they liked you and treated you like an apprentice- even if you didn’t plan on becoming a hero. Martian man, Green ghost and Red Rush were particularly fond of you, always checking up on you- very understanding of your personality. The others were fond of you too, just in a less obvious way. DarkWing understood your cold personality and a personal level, and you got along with his “assistant” NightBoy- due to you being close in age.  They didn’t know of your powers, but they had suspicions due to certain events that had happened in the past.

As soon as they were confirmed to all be dead, you got the look from Cecil that says he’s angered by you, and disappointed. The Guardians were like your second home, so why did you let them die? You didn’t even need to confirm you knew the outcome, he already knew. 

He told you off, but he couldn’t let that stop you from working because he will need you to figure out how to stop Omni-Man. He will try every way to bribe you into telling him what the future holds, or how to stop Omni-Man. 

While you do little to show your emotions, the Guardians deaths were not lost to you. You had mourned them two weeks before they even died, but once it hits you they’re actually gone, you silently cry to yourself.

Mark tries to encourage you to show him your grief, and when you are presenting your detachment- he gets a little frustrated but doesn’t push it.

When you see the future of what Omni-Man will do to Mark, you feel a wave of dread. It’s something that is strong and you’ve only felt a handful of times- but the empty feeling, the rush of a depressing acceptance. You see the other outcomes, how Mark could become, and you know you can’t interfere.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Bad Ending

Cecil watches as you sit next to Mark in the hospital with his mom, and he will call you over and ask when you will tell Mark- because the longer you keep the secret, the angrier Mark will be when he finds out.

You think it over, and it gets out before you can tell him. Nurses in his room had overheard the conversation and were whispering about it when they thought Mark was asleep.

Mark is pissed, when he gets out he’s arguing with you in front of the new guardians, and then he broke up with you and told you to go away.

New guardians started distancing themselves from you as well. Even if you try to explain it to them, they don’t want to hear it. Especially Mark. 

Robot will talk to you every now and then, but that’s about it. Unfortunately, you knew this would happen. When you were a kid, you knew that in the future- you would end up alone because of these powers. It was meant to happen and you cannot change it. Now, you’re alone while working at the GDA. Mark won’t even look in your direction anymore, even if you still love him- there’s no way he will forgive you.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Good Ending

You sit next to Mark’s bed with Debbie. She has been very understanding of you being emotionally distant, perceived as cold. However, she can tell past your eyes that you’re struggling to see Mark hurt like this.

She goes to ask you how you feel and you let it all come spilling out. Everything. She sits there and listens. Afterwards, you feel a little ashamed. Her son is in the hospital, her husband being a mass murderer and you just ranted about how it’s a burden to know all of this. Out of shame, and fear of the worst outcome, you leave.

You’re scared to go back but after a few days, you do go back. She smiles warmly at you, and motions for you to come closer. Mark is awake, and she had told him everything beforehand. He’s mad, but mostly just hurt that you didn’t tell him, but due to Debbie putting it into perspective- he is willing to forgive you. 

After that, you guys talk about boundaries and how to proceed with your relationship. He is okay not knowing everything you know as long as you are open to communicating your feelings and emotions better with him. You two will work it out, one step at a time.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

End note: I hope you enjoyed! If you sent in a request, I promise I am working on it and will be posting soon! Have a lovely day!

I love Tsumugi

repost from insta "WARNING: dissociation/phantom limb

A more serious totk comic. I imagine having your arm replaced with someone else's might be disorienting." follow me at skittlesandham

More from the Legend of Zelda BotW/TotK: comics 1-2-3-4-5-6-7

Masterpost

Love Bite | Chapter One

Synopsis: "Just because your ancestors were in love doesn't mean you have to be in love with him." "It's not that." "Then what is it?" "It's fate." Great-great niece of Kanroji Mitsuri has just gotten a new job because her best friend's older brother, a descendant of Iguro Obanai, is looking to hire an assistant for his bakery. Airu has to navigate through her strong connection to Inkyo, who seems to be interested in everything except her. He only teases her when they're alone and is bland when with other people. Will she end up like her great-great aunt or finally fulfil those last words said in the arms of the one she loved?

Warnings/contains: DEMON SLAYER SPOILERS!!, fluff, mutual pining, mentions of soulmates, descendants of Obanai and Mitsuri, jealous Obanai

Word Count: 5K

a/n: This a little project I’m working on because I couldn’t live without giving somewhat of a happy ending {new beginning??} to Obanai and Mitsuri. I LOVE them and so “Love Bite” was born, a short story {this is only chapter 1 out of around 10} 

In each other’s arms that’s what I’m told. That’s how my great-great aunt died, in her lover's arms. Is it weird to think that my best friend’s family could have been actually family? Yeah, it is. Though, I’m sure fate has a reason for everything. Such as it just so happened that my best friend’s older brother, mysterious as he is, needs a new hire for his bakery. That’s why I’m here, picking on the skin on my middle finger, hoping the scary Obanai wouldn’t put me through the terror of an interview. I don’t think my mental fortitude could handle that today. Not after my friends insisted on celebrating a night early for my new job. I still haven’t recovered from the alcohol they forced me to practically inject into my veins. 

I was scared to even open the front door to the quaint storefront. Sora had informed me that her brother took Thursdays off and could usually be found working on new recipes and plans in his small office space near the back of the building. 

“Just knock on the door and he should come to see who it is. I told him you’d be stopping by anyway, so he may just leave it unlocked for you.”

My luck wasn’t the best, so I highly doubt the door would be unlocked- With a simple push of my hand the dark wooden door slid open allowing me to be hit with a gust of air conditioning. The inside space was a dimly lit calm ambiance. There were tables tucked away in secluded areas, some out in the open, and plants were absolutely everywhere. There was a sleek wooden nature theme throughout the whole building and I felt like I was transported somewhere else entirely. There was a counter off to the left side of the entry point that housed a display case and an array of decorative items lining the space behind the counter. A sword is displayed proudly behind a glass covering in the center of the shelves that climb the wall. I take a few steps toward it and notice the deep hue of purple that shines off the curved metal. The hilt was a mix of pink and white stripes with a lime green cap on the bottom. It was breathtaking. 

I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass and gasp lightly when I see another figure behind me. I turn around on my heel and come face to face with Obanai. 

“Airu.” He whispers, his eyes flitting around my body. He’s very close. So close I can smell the expensive cologne he’s wearing.

“Nice to see you Inkyo.” I bow my head, nervous to meet his intense gaze. I felt like he could see through anything. Especially how he made my body react. His long dark hair covers his face slightly as he steps closer to me. I feel my heart start to do gymnastics in my chest. Im scared if he gets any closer he’ll be able to either hear or feel it. 

“Your hair is different.” He notes blandly, reaching out a steady hand to swipe it away from my face. He was right. I had cut my long pink and lime green locks to a shorter, more mature bob haircut. I’d kept the bangs though. He fingers it gently and then drops his hand. 

“I like it.” He moves away to move something around on the counter and I try to not let out a loud sigh of relief. 

“Sora told me that you were looking for a new hire?” I decide to say. I’m not sure why I was so keen on working here anyway, I’d probably get super distracted by Inkyo and those damn eyes of his. He stops organizing things and glances at me. 

“Not anymore.” He moves behind the counter and scoots a few things on the shelves over the tiniest bit. He lets out a sigh when he realizes there's dust on his pale fingers. I must’ve had my mouth open or something because his gaze holds mine for a long time now. “What?” He inquires, furrowing his brows slightly. I shake my head and close my mouth. 

“Uh, well I feel like I’ve wasted your time now. I didn’t know you’d filled the position.” I bow my head and feel the urge to leave as quickly as possible but Obanai just shakes his head slowly. His undusty hand reaches up to his mouth as a small smile appears on his lips. 

“No Airu, you are my new hire.” He tilts his head to watch my slow reaction processing the information he’d given me. My mouth falls open again and I slam my hands on the counter and lean in close to him. 

“Really!?” I exclaim. His eyes widen slightly and then soften as he nods. “Oh thank you! When do I start!?” I clasp my hands together and hop excitedly. Money. I needed money. Plus I got to work with the man who I’d thought about for the last several years. 

“Well, I’ll have to give you a list of what happens here daily. What to do when you arrive, when you leave, when you man the counter, and when I’m not here. If you want to come with me up to my place we can discuss the subject of your contract.” He shuffles some things around on the counter absentmindedly again. His place? My everything says yes, but my will says that’s not the best idea. 

“Uh, well,” I try to find the words I’m looking for but draw a blank on all words I’ve learned. Inkyo positions himself in a leaning position against the back shelves, which makes his black button-up shirt clench around his torso. I gulp in, trying not to stare. “Is-Is going up to your place really a good idea?” I avoid eye contact like the plague. I hear him let out a small chuckle and suddenly he’s lifting my chin to look into his golden and blue eyes. 

“Airu Mitsuri what are you thinking about?” His smirk tells me I don’t have to answer that question for him to know. Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe it was my crush on him. Though, maybe it was fate trying to fix a travesty and who am I to get in the way of fate?

“Fine, but I get to show you this really cute picture I took of Bean.” I reach for my phone in my pocket and he lets go of my chin. Bean was the black cat I bought when I moved out of my parent’s apartment so I wouldn’t get too lonely. In a way, he reminded me of Inkyo, except Bean was clingy while Inkyo was offputting. If I tried to cuddle with Inkyo he’d probably throw up in his mouth. Not that I was the problem, just physical touch didn’t seem to be his thing. Even though he did just grab my chin… 

“You going to show me or keep dissociating in my bakery?” Inkyo teases, his voice sounding more comfortable with me. I quickly glare at him and then go back to retrieve my phone. I swipe into my gallery and try to hide the number of selfies and random videos that could be found there. I tap on the picture of Bean laying on his back, paws outstretched to the camera. My little baby looked so adorable in this picture I just wanted to gobble him up. Inkyo takes a look at the photo and gives it a smile but nothing else. I’m about to tell him he should be worshipping my baby boy, but he takes his pointer finger and swipes to the next picture. That picture happens to be me in a new black dress I’d ordered online that had a heart cutout on the chest. I’ll be frank, the dress was very short, very revealing, and if Inkyo really wanted to he could observe my pink lace bralette peaking out from the heart. I screech and grab my phone from off the counter. 

“What are you doing!?” I hold my phone to my chest and I catch Inkyo lazily staring at how my arms squeeze them together. “I haven’t even started yet! This is harassment!” I exclaim turning my front away from him. He chuckles again and moves out from behind the counter. 

“Sorry, I got carried away teasing you again. I just wanted to see if you were still as cute when you got flustered.” He brushes past me and walks toward the door. “Shall we move this upstairs so you can start preparing for tomorrow?” He nods his head toward the door and I can feel my face still warm from his pestering. 

“Am I?” I hear myself asking. Inkyo was on his way to leave the building but stops in his tracks. His body shifts toward me again, eyes engulfing me yet again. His massive hands flex by his sides and that god-given shirt exposes how muscular he really is. I take a few steps closer to him, my phone still clutched to my chest. He watches me like a snake about to strike a field mouse. 

“Are you?” He finally repeats like he’s questioning what I was asking. I sigh and shake my head, not courageous enough to ask him if he still thinks I’m cute. I should be happy enough with the fact that he even ever thought I was. I nod toward the door.

“Let’s be on our way boss man.” I walk past him and out the door. He stands near the door for a beat before catching up with me. His long legs cause him to walk a little faster than me, but he makes sure to stay on my right, the roadside of the sidewalk. 

“The stairs to my place are right here.” He points out, guiding me with a hand lightly on the small of my back. I can’t help but think about how people must see this. A young woman and man heading toward an apartment. If they didn’t already think we were together they must think that he and I were about to do something together. I climb the stairs slowly, trying to avoid flashing Inkyo my underwear if my skirt were to blow up. I reach the landing and he quickly enters a code and opens the door for me. “Welcome to my abode.” 

I can feel him watching me as I look around in amazement at his home. There was art everywhere, one, in particular, caught my eye. A regal-looking woman with a lovely kimono draped over her delicate-looking body. Her hair was a dark brown color and her eyes were shut gently. I felt drawn to her like I’d known her somehow or she’d done something extremely courageous for me. 

“Her name is Tamayo.” I feel Inkyo say from behind me. I turn my eyes away from the painting and look up into his. He’s not looking at me, he’s looking at the painting. “She was an incredible woman.” His eyes seem to soften carefully when looking at her. I can’t help but feel a slight pang of jealousy course through my body. I wasn’t a normal-looking girl, even in this day and age. I had bright pink and lime green hair and don’t get me wrong, I loved it. Though, it did attract a lot of attention from people, sometimes not the best. My eyes were almost the same green as in my hair and my pale skin made them stand out like bright lights. Then there was my body, I was a curvaceous girl. The curved blade downstairs didn’t hold a candle to the number of dips and round areas on my body. I was ideal by western beauty standards, but here in the east the amount of food I ate and my body type were looked at with judgment. The one thing that brought me any amount of comfort was my grandmother smiling at me with tears in her eyes when I was 16. 

“Come here Airu.” She whispers softly and beckons me to her side. I walk to where she was sitting on the bench. The sunlight was illuminating her soft features and light green eyes. I sit down next to her, expecting a scolding for how much I’d eaten at the restaurant, but she extends her hand and rubs my cheek softly. 

“Soba?” I question, trying to understand her emotions right now. She was touching me so gently, yet there was an incredibly confused look on her face. She looked sad and happy at the same time. 

“You look so much like her.” She mumbles, her fingers moving to my bright hair. She smiles when she touches it. “I had just been born when I met Kanroji, but I remember her contagious smile and beautiful braided hair.” I tilt my head in confusion. I’d heard that name before in stories my grandma would tell of her great aunt Kanroji Mitsuri, a swordswoman in the 1900s. She weaved stories about demons and a great battle against their Lord. How my great-great aunt had excitedly told my great-grandmother about a man whom she fought with. He was mysterious and more than handsome, she was sure they’d fall in love and get married after the war between dark and sunlight. Though she never got to see the sunlight of the next day, she finally found the love she was looking for in Inkyo’s ancestor. “When I pass I want you to have her nitchiri sword, I think she’d want that too.” Nitchiri? 

“Soba, are you feeling okay?” I ask in the most respectful way I could muster. I was worried this was some weird way for her to tell me she was dying and didn’t have long. My Soba was a source of flowing wisdom, I don’t think I could navigate this world without her. She smiles sadly and pats the top of my head. 

“Don’t worry Ruru chan, I’m not dying just yet. When the time does eventually come though, I want you to know fate has a path for you, but you can also have a path for fate.” 

Soba passed 3 years later and a similar sword to the one downstairs is displayed in my own home. I looked like Kanroji Mitsuri and that was enough for me to know I was going to be just fine. Hell, maybe those genes would get me in good graces with Inkyo. Being attracted to people who looked like me is kind of in his genetics right? 

“Airu? Airu where did you go just now?” Inkyo’s eyes are finally looking into mine and a small shudder runs down my spine. 

“Sorry, just reminiscing about Soba.” I smile, trying to hide the fact that the memory I was recalling led to me hoping he’d be into me based on my looks. 

“Obaasan Mitsuri… she was also an incredible woman.” He presses his lips into a thin line as if trying to stop himself from crying. I lower my brows as I stare up at him. 

“Do you call every woman you know an incredible woman?” I huff, crossing my arms in front of me. Inkyo looks off to the side and scratches the back of his head. I must be mistaken, but it looks like there’s a hint of red on his cheeks. 

“Not all.” He mumbles in response. I puff out my cheeks and lean forward, trying my best to intimidate him. 

“Oh yeah then what do you say about me when you talk about me?” He shuts his eyes and lets out a sigh. Oh no, did I push him too far? He covers his face and turns away from me. “Answer me Inkyo,” I demand. He lets out another breath and turns completely around, now facing the door we’d walked through a couple of minutes prior. 

“Jeez, do I have to fire you just to get you off my case?” He mumbles against his hands. I stand up straight again and grumble a few words about how he’s an asshole and then turn toward his (of course) black couch. I plop myself down on the soft cushions and huffily brush my skirt out over my legs. 

“Fine, then if you’re all business, then let’s get started,” I state plainly, a little hurt he wouldn’t answer me. Inkyo turns on his heel and walks toward me. 

“Well, since we are in my home I feel like it would be rude for me to not offer you something to drink.” He looks over to the steel-accessorized kitchen with the same warm wood as his bakery. I sink into the plush couch and wave my hand dismissively. 

“I’ll be fine with some apple juice if you have it.” Why’d we even have to come up here again? Why couldn’t we sit at one of the tables downstairs? My eyes widen and I watch Inkyo rummage through his stainless steel refrigerator. Oh my goodness…was he…going to murder me? No…surely not. Well, I was a major pain in the ass so it’s plausible. Whatever the reason, I may have been to quick to follow him up here. Damn this lovey-dovey brain of mine. The clink of a glass being set on a coaster in front of me breaks me out of my thoughts. Inkyo’s eyes watch me carefully as he sets himself in a sleek (black again) armchair across from me. He steeples his hands under his chin a serious look on his face. 

“So let’s get down to business.”

ಊ♡ಊ

It’s been about 2 weeks since my meeting with Inkyo Obanai and I had no idea how busy a small bakery on the outskirts of Tokyo could get. 

“Could I get one of those small muffins?” A tall teenage boy asks, pointing to a blueberry muffin in the case. I smile brightly and nod. 

“Of course! That will be 3.40 please.” I relay. The boy flushes and fumbles with his wallet. I giggle to myself and gather his purchase in the signature black and white paper bag. He hands me the money and I smile graciously. “Thank you, have a nice day.” I wave to him and he bows his head and waves goodbye. I wipe my brow and sigh. Phew, it’s not even noon yet and all our tables are packed with students, employees on break, and a few elderly people. 

“Wow, it was never this busy before.” A familiar voice observes. I turn my attention to the figure in front of me and a smile instantly appears on my lips. 

“Sora!” I exclaim and nearly jump over the counter to give her a hug. She welcomes me into her arms with a smug look on her face. 

“The one and only.” She chuckles. “But seriously, how are there so many people in here? I didn’t think Inkyo had it in him.” Her eyes fall to my slightly shorter stature and then she rolls her eyes. “That’s right I forgot you worked here. That’s why there are so many people.” She groans and nods toward the counter. “How has he been treating you?” She asks walking behind the counter with me. 

“Good, but what do you mean that’s why there are so many people here?” I question. Sora laughs and a piece of her thick raven hair falls in front of her face. Just like her brother’s. They looked identical except for their eyes. Both of Sora’s eyes are a piercing greenish-blue hue, still as intense as her brother’s though. 

“You. Airu you’re absolutely stunning. People are coming to see you smile at them.” She answers with another small laugh. I pause. Really? Did people come to see me? What about Inkyo though? He was extremely attractive, people had to come for him too, right?

“Oh.” Is the only thing I can manage to say. Sora pats me on the back and looks out into the crowd. 

“Just make sure Inkyo doesn’t see any of these dudes flirting with you.” She advises. I furrow my brows and look at her questioningly. “Just, keep that in mind.” She pats my back again and moves toward the small trinkets on the back shelves. I’d grown fond of a lot of them while working here. There was a beautiful handmade pot with intricate blue flowers painted on them. Then a calico figurine stood proudly with a little backpack on it. Then there was, of course, the sword. I caught myself staring at it at all times of the day. Wondering how it would feel to wield such a magnificent piece of weaponry. It made me miss my sword all alone at home. Maybe I could ask Inkyo to display mine too?

“Sora.” I whisk around to see Inkyo staring at his little sister with a blank expression. “What are you doing here?” He asks. He glances at me, but then his eyes are back on her. She turns toward him slowly and shrugs. 

“If I’m being honest I was a little hungry. Lucky for you the taste of you being an asshole doesn’t get into your food.” She smiles innocently and Inkyo lets out a loud groan. “Oh, I also wanted to see Airu in her cute little apron,” Sora adds, her fingers playing with the tie on my back. I squirm under her touch. 

“Sora that tickles.” I giggle. Inkyo’s eyes narrow and he catches Sora’s wrist. 

“Why don’t you get your food and go sit down?” He grumbles, releasing her quickly. Sora’s eyes light up mischievously and I can tell she’s about to annoy her brother. I want to tell her to just do as he says, but she’s a stubborn girl. 

“Okay, but I’ll be taking your little girlfriend with me.” She grabs me by the waist and picks up a muffin from the display on top of the counter. Inkyo’s eyes trace her arm around my waist and then flit up to my eyes. They look like they’re subtly burning with some sort of emotion. I want to ask him what’s wrong, but he turns away before I can. 

“Fine. Do whatever you want.” He places his palms on the counter and greets a new customer with a tight smile. Sora leads me away to a free table near the breakroom. 

“He’s so weird.” She says when we’re finally sitting down. I nod slowly but feel a bit confused by that whole interaction. 

“I think you tease him too much,” I mumble absentmindedly. Sora’s eyes widen and she bites angrily into her muffin. 

“He deserves it. He’s always acting like he’s better than me and it’s only because our parents favor him. You look so much like our ancestor, the great swordsman Iguro Obanai. You’re the best Inkyo. We love you so much. It gets a little old after a while.” She mutters. I soften at her plight. Her parents did favor Inkyo, I’d witnessed it all our life. 

“I’m sorry Sora. I just think there are better times for you to enact goblin mode.” I reach out and caress her hand. She smiles through bites and turns to watch her brother at the front counter. “Do you want to hang out after my shift?” I ask in hopes she’ll say yes. It’d been a while since we had gotten together. She presses her lips into a thin line and turns her gaze back to me.

“Thanks, Airu, I’d like that.”

Sora leaves after we chat for a bit about our plans for later. She makes sure to flip her brother off as she leaves. He rolls his eyes as I walk back toward my station. 

“I love that little goblin.” He chuckles. I bump my hip into him and he startles. 

“I think she’d like to hear that from you every once and a while,” I say, enjoying the way Inkyo stares at where I had bumped him. 

“Yeah, probably.” He mumbles, still engrossed in where we’d touched. Sora was right, he is weird. I grin to myself and resume standing by the display case. Since our chat, the bakery had emptied, and only a couple of the students remained working away on their computers. 

“I don’t know how to thank you for this job, Inkyo.” I voice, not sure where I was going with the conversation. He looks at me and shakes his head. 

“You don’t need to. I’m glad I get to work with you.” He replies, a small smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. He lifts his hand to cover it but I catch the sleeve of his dark shirt. 

“Why do you do that?” I ask, turning my body toward him. He watches me with the same intensity a few weeks ago. 

“Do what?” He questions back, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Cover your mouth when you smile,” I explain. His eyes widen slightly and I can feel my heart pick up speed. What was I doing? This was brave, asking him all these personal questions. We were friends, but we weren’t as close as Sora and I. Was I being rude?

“Whenever I smile around you I feel like the corners of my mouth are being ripped open. The amount of joy you bring me splits me open.” He breathes. My eyes are the ones to widen now. What did he mean by that? 

“Excuse me? Can I get that last cinnamon roll please?” Inkyo’s gaze lingers on me for a beat before attending to the customer in front of us. I, on the other hand, still stare at him as he goes about running a business. The joy you bring me splits me open. I let out a shaky breath and cover my mouth as a smile forms. I can’t help it, it’s wide and almost painful. 

Ah. So that’s what he means.

ಊ♡ಊ

“Oh give me a break. He’s not dreamy!” Sora rolls her eyes and punches at the pillow next to her. I laugh at her reaction. 

“No really! I swear. I know describing him doesn’t paint a very good picture, but let me pull up a photo.” I scramble to find my phone. 

“Bean are you hearing this shit? Your owner is bonkers!” Sora gestures to me wildly and Bean, who is laying next to her, blinks twice before closing his eyes again. Sora sighs exasperatedly and flops back into the couch cushion. I finally find a good photo of the scraggly anime character I was talking about. Sora’s eyes study him for a while before she nods once. 

“Okay, maybe I will be hearing you out.” She shrugs and I pump my fist in the air. 

“I told you! He’s evil but so damn attractive.” I kick my feet and hug my phone. 

“You have problems.” Sora teases. I nod my head as I think about my type in men. Yeah, I do, but that’s what makes me special. 

“Hey now, remember this is my house. I can kick you out.” I narrow my eyes and Sora holds her hands up in the air in surrender. I throw a pillow at her. “Get some sleep you dingus. It’s nearly 2 am.” I groan as I push off the ground to a standing position. Sora sticks out her tongue and stuffs the pillow next to her. 

“Weeeeeeaaaaaaak.” She mocks and then flips herself to get more comfortable on my couch. I roll my eyes and flick off the light. 

“Goodnight Soblin.” My nickname for her is a mixture of her name and goblin. 

“Goodnight whore.” Her nickname for me is any insult she can think of. I smile to myself and walk the short steps to my room. I open the door and Bean scurries to come to sleep with me. “Traitor!” Sora calls from the couch. I close the door behind us and take a deep breath. My eyes catch the glint of the moon’s reflection on something shiny. I look up at the wall above my bed. There hung my sword. It had a pink and white hilt, with a guard that was four hearts around the bottom of the blade. The blade was a mixture of black and a redder pink. 

“Kanroji Mitsuri, what exactly were you like?” I mumble to myself. Bean mews softly from my bed and I crawl in with him. I catch myself staring at the sword above me as I drift off to sleep. 

“Here.” A voice mumbles. In front of me is a boy about my age. He wears black and white stripes and a mask over his mouth. His eyes are blue and gold, beautiful. He holds striped green socks in front of him with his head turned away from me. I smile happily and take them gingerly from his grasp. 

“Thank you.” I bow my body and when I look up his eyes are on me. My smile grows and his eyes widen. He stumbles back a few steps and I tilt my head in confusion. 

“It’s-It’s no big deal.” He stammers and before I can say anything else he runs away. What a strange boy. I peer down at the socks he’d given me and can’t help but feel my heart flutter slightly. What was the serpent Hashira doing giving the love Hashira a pair of socks? I look up to where he’d run off to and think about hunting him down, but I highly doubt I’d be able to find him. He probably blended in with the shadows. 

“Whatcha got there?” A voice from behind me asks. Kyojuro Rengoku stands behind me, his usual wide stare looking back at me. I glance at the socks and then back at the flame Hashira. 

“Some socks…” I reply. He smiles widely and studies the socks. 

“They remind me of Iguro Obanai.” He nearly yells. I smile and nod. 

“He’s the one who gave them to me,” I confirm. Kyojuro nods and then gestures to me. 

“By the looks of your face, he set your heart ablaze!” He exclaims. I gasp and touch my cheeks. Warm. So warm. My heart nearly explodes with a feeling of excitement and happiness. Could my goal of finding a man to love me finally be fulfilled? I glance behind me, where Iguro had run off to. 

“Yeah, I guess he did.”

YES! YES! MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY! GLAD IM NOT THE ONLY ONE!!!

Duke Thomas looks after Tim Drake

Logically he doesn’t need to. Tim is Red Robin after all. A hero. And just like all heroes, they go through things. But the things Tim has been through?

Let’s just say they hit close to home.

Joker Junior—JJ—is a bit of an open secret in the Wayne household. Nobody talks about it, but everyone knows. Duke, a more recent addition, learns about it when he walks by Tim’s room one night, only to freeze as he catches the muffled sound of laughter. He knows that kind of laughter. It’s practically carved into his brain.

No warning is given before Duke busts into Tim room, expecting the worst. He finds Tim sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest, laughing that terrible laugh.

“Tim!” Duke yells, panic spiking as he runs to his side. Had Joker broken in? Was Tim okay? He takes his shoulders and shakes him. Not again, please not again—

That seemed to be enough to snap Tim out of it, startling him lucid. “Duke?”

“Tim! You alright man? What happened—did Joker—”

Mortification dawns on Tim’s face, the detective immediately putting the pieces together. “Oh fuck. Sorry Duke I must’ve had a laughing fit. Sorry—someone should have warned you. God I’m so sorry.”

“You’re… you’re good? No Joker?” Duke moved away a bit, suddenly embarrassed by his reaction.

“No Joker. Sorry, this happens sometimes. Holdover from… well a bad run in with Joker when I was Robin. It um… was pretty messy.”

The explanation given after is… condensed, Duke suspects. Tim apologizes, knowing Duke’s own history with the joker. Duke tries to insist that’s bull, that he shouldn’t have to apologize for not telling him, but Tim gives a tight smile that says he doesn’t believe that.

Duke doesn’t push it. He’s not Dick, he doesn’t know how to make things like that better. After that night though, their dynamic seems to shift a bit.

Duke knows Tim is older than him, but that doesn’t matter. Whenever something Joker related comes up, Duke immediately volunteers himself to deal with it, no matter if it’s during the day or not. Duke is always happy to give a second pair of eyes to a case,

And secretly, while he likes making Tim (and everyone else) laugh, there’s something relieving when the laughter fades out and it stops. The pained smile on his mother’s face nowhere to be found.

For Tim’s credit, JJ hardly ever makes an appearance. Years on consistent therapy have helped. But healing is not a cure.

It’s after an all-hands-on-deck type mission that it happens. A laughing fit so hard the entire family wasn’t sure what to do. Tim JJ couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

He laughs, stumbling through the manor, a concerned Wayne family following after. He smiles so hard, so painfully, clutching his stomach for air.

He wouldn’t stop, and eventually the hysterics laughter turned to choking as he laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe.

Duke holds him down while Dick runs and grabs a sedative.

Later, Dick would remark how bad it was. The worst he’d seen in years. But the episode ends, and the sedatives wear off, and Tim manages to slip out of the medbay without anyone realizing. Anyone except Duke, who immediately looks for him, and finds him on the roof.

“Hey man.”

“Hey Duke.” Tim responds, voice raspy from overuse.

“Doing alright?”

They talk for a bit. Voices hushed. Duke tries not to joke, knowing there’s been enough laughter for one night.

Eventually, Tim’s worries come out.

“I don’t want to be a pity case. I’m know I’m not delicate, that I’m not going to break. I just…” Tim pauses, “slip sometimes. And sometimes it scares me.”

And Duke turns his head to look out at the city. “You know, Tim, you give me hope.”

Tim lifts his head to give Duke a confused look.

“Hope for my parents. That maybe they might… get better. Even if some of it’s still there. I know I probably won’t ever get to see them normal again, but… it’s nice to have hope.”

Name || To drink wine under the stars

Pairing || Modern!Din Djarin X NB!Reader

Summary || A date Din and you planned takes a turn before taking another

Word Count || 1.334

Tags/Warnings || Idiots in love, Angst with a happy ending, No Use of Y/N, Modern!AU, Feelings!, Unestablished Relationships, Insecurities, Grogu Mentioned, Din is low-key (very much) a simp, Probably OOC Din, A bit of a rushed ending, No Beta We Die Like Men

A/N || I present a small piece of fiction made for Bouquets of Pedro Creativity Challenge by @happypedrohours

Based on this prompt: Din Djarin & late for a date

English is not my first language

If you find any grammar or spelling mistakes, let me know so I can fix them

Masterlist

Star Wars Masterlist (Not finished yet)

It's been such a long time since he's been to a place such as this. The restaurant was luxurious, maybe a bit too much in his opinion. The staff, the food, the decorations, it all screamed expensiveness.

His suit was probably even worse. It felt tight, unnatural. He wasn't used to wearing clothes other than completely regular. The best he could usually do was a white shirt with some pants, that was it. After all, why would he need anything else?

You. It was you. You were the reason he needed something else. You didn't force him, per se. He did it voluntarily. Grogu was still small and didn't care about how he looked but you? He wanted you to see him.

You were so special to him. Kind, funny, engaging, drop dead gorgeous. In the darkness that was his life, you were the moon illuminating his path. Guiding his way home.

Home to you.

At first, it surprised him when you agreed to the date. If he didn't know you, he would think it was a joke. A cruel mockery of how he, of all people, could think he had any chances with someone so divine. You meant it however. The smile on your face, the sparkle in your eye, it all proved your words.

Sitting at the table reserved for the two of you, he both loved and regretted he asked in the first place. What if you didn't like it there? What if he made a fool of himself? So many things could go wrong and wouldn't be able to stop any of them if it came down to it.

Knowing you though? You wouldn't care less about things that trivial. His mind flickered back to the memory of you.

You.

Sweet you.

The way you held his hand when he'd asked you out because it trembled so much. The way you listened so intently to what people had to say even when you felt unheard. The way you cared for Grogu as if he were your own and not your coworker's son.

Yeah, you'd understand.

Check the time.

Check the time.

Why weren't you there yet?

You were supposed to arrive at 7 PM. He arrived earlier of course. He didn't want you to wait in case he arrived later. And suddenly, he was the one waiting. It's been, what, 10, maybe 15 minutes?

Probably traffic, he told himself. He knew how it was these days. Everyone always rushed, as if unable to take a break. You were most likely in a taxi, trapped in a traffic jam.

Everything was fine.

It's been 30 minutes now. Where were you? It was getting frustrating. Especially when waiters came and went, always asking questions about his order. He wouldn't order. Not until you arrived.

He tapped the table, eyes fixated on the candle in the middle. The fire was so bright and yet, it couldn't compare to your smile. He'd kill to see it at least once. Just for a second, not even that. Even if it wasn't directed at him, even though he'd prefer if it were.

But no.

You weren't there.

He sent you so many messages, called a few times, all worried for your possible safety. What if you were in a car accident? Were you walking and someone decided to attack you? Did you hit your head when leaving your home? The possibilities were endless, every new one worse than the last.

He didn't seem to notice when an hour passed. Nor the second. He wouldn't dare look at the time, his attention constantly shifting between the building’s entrance and your completely untouched seat.

A sigh slipped past his lips when he finally forced himself to do so. It'd been over 2 hours. He couldn't wait any longer. He promised Grogu he wouldn't take too long, the kid needed him after all.

He hated it. The pitiful look the waitress gave him as he paid for the unexpectedly expensive wine he ordered, taking the unfinished bottle with him.

The February air chilled him more than he'd like, his hands freezing from the coldness of the bottle in his hand.

All the while, his mind struggled to come up with a reason for your absence. Maybe you were actually hurt? That was the only explanation that didn't make him question your lack of messages.

Or maybe you simply didn't like him and didn't know how to voice it.

Honestly, he wouldn't blame you. He didn't consider himself particularly likeable either. Messy, awkward, rugged and always tired. Why would you desire that?

The thought stung.

Was he really so bad that you, the kindest creature he'd ever met, couldn't accept him?

It was probably for the better.

“Din! Din wait!”

That voice. The voice so angelic that a part of his soul left his body any time he heard it suddenly called his name.

Turning his head towards where it came from, there you were. You weren't waving at him as you attempted to run, breathless with reddened cheeks from the cold.

You were a mess too to be honest. Dishevelled hair, slightly messy fancy clothes as if you barely managed to put it on properly along with loud gasps for air.

To him, you looked like a deity either way.

“I'm so, so sorry. I-I was tired from work and took a quick nap a-and I overslept the alarm and when I woke up it was already late,”

you rambled on and on about how sorry and ashamed you were for leaving him in the restaurant all alone, especially considering how expensive the reservation was. He didn't utter a word throughout the whole speech.

He didn't care if you noticed his silence. Or the tiny smile on his lips. Or the softness in his eyes. He was simply glad to see you, his day suddenly brighter than before.

And then, you fell silent. Your eyes stared up at him, searching for any sign of anger, of disappointment. There was none. Just pure unfiltered adoration.

“Don't worry. I'm just glad nothing bad happened to you,”

his words made your eyes widened, those twinkling in the soft light of city lamps. How beautiful, he thought. Then again, he thought that about every single thing you did.

His sharp gaze detected how the tension in you shoulders fell, a small sigh of relief escaping into the chilly weather.

“Could I make it up to you in some way?”

you were so kind. So desperate to make sure he wasn't disappointed, to make sure you kept your promise of joining him on a date that night.

He didn't need any persuasion.

Grogu was already dreaming away in his bed when Din joined you in the backyard of his home. You didn't notice him at first, making it the perfect opportunity to admire you.

There you were. In his garden. You were silent, staring up at the moon which felt like a shiny trinket compared to you. The soft smile on your lips as you snuggled into the blanket he lent you made his heart skipped a beat. A silent wish passed through his mind, a prayer of stopping the time so that he could worship you in his mind for eternity and more.

“There you are, I was getting worried,”

you smiled as you noticed his presence. He didn't reply as he sat down next to you, stealing part of the blanket and snuggling closer to you. You offered the wine but his mind was only on the brief brush of your hand against his. It all made his head spin.

When you rested your head on his shoulder though? He was afraid he'd faint. Or maybe cry.

You chose him. Nothing could convince him otherwise. And even if you didn't, he wouldn't mind.

He didn't need much to be happy after all. Even if it didn't last long, all he needed was to drink wine under the stars, right by your side.

Disclaimer:

I do not own The Mandalorian or any of its characters. The Mandalorian is the property of Jon Favreau and Disney. This fanfiction is written purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended for profit. Please support the original work!

It all feels the same

I loathe Heroine.

I loathed her ever since the first time I saw her. From the very first flashy, dumb grin she flashed at me.

I loathe the littered freckles on her cheeks and the red, long scar that went over her jawline. The dark circles under her eyes and her forever messy curly hair.

I loathe her stubbornness. How she shows up every day. How she manages to get up every time. How convinced she is that her actions truly matter. How she fights for each pathetic person, as if each and every soul was so precious to her.

I loathe the way she pretends. Pretends to be confident. Pretends to be in control. Even when she is hurt and anxious and so obviously tired. How she comforts every victim, when she can barely calm herself. How she smiles softly, even at me. As if I were that easy to fool.

I hate her for rescuing me. 

She threw herself into the water. She pulled me up to the shore. She stayed until I sat steadily. Then she left. Not even giving a demand or a price or a reason.

I hate how she laughs at my jokes. As if we were friends. As if I actually make her smile.

I hate her most when it’s just the two of us. Hate how calm she gets. Hate how much she underestimates me. How calmer she gets.

And I was angry when I found her lying in the cold. Angry at her recklessness and bravery and passion, that forced her to never back down. Angry that I had to drag her out of there. That she used me for warmth. That she looked so comfortable. 

I get angry when she doubts herself. 

Because I know just how harder my life has been ever since she came to it. I know how kind she is in her greatest victories, I know how purposeful she is in her darkest hours, I know her better than everyone.

I was angry at her lover the moment I met her.

Angry at this feeble, laughable, fool who seemed to think she deserves Heroine. I got furious when she approached me. The idiot smiled and offered her hand.

I pushed it right away. I shoved her past me and wanted to walk away, to wait until she realizes just how useless she is to everyone. Wait until she leaves my and Heroine’s life. 

But she dared to keep talking. Dared to say she understands me. Dared to say Heroine’s name.

I lashed out at her. 

I yelled that she has no right to tell me about Heroine. That she’ll never know Heroine like I do.  That she is just lonely and desperate enough for Heroine to pity. That she would never truly love her.

I was pulled to the ground, and saw Heroine above me.

I could barely recognize her face. There was so much loathe and hatred and anger in her stare. I never saw her like this, not when she fought the worst of villains, not in the most stressful situations and not when I was in danger.

She told me to stay away from her lover.  That otherwise she will kill me.  That she doesn’t want to see me ever again.

She only stopped when my eyes started to water. I couldn't tell anymore what expression she wore, but I saw her leaving.  Panic rose through me, and I called her name. Begging her to stay.

She looked back at me, and for the last time, I saw her clearly. There was no malice nor pity in her eyes. Only disgust.

I loathed myself ever since.

The "fat funny friend" : Maxine

My fav ❤️

I’m just gonna write everything I have about her character.

She’s Lucy’s (perfect girl) best friend

The two of them knew each other since they were babies. They are close like sisters.

Maxine have siblings, a big sister and a big brother but she’s not close to them at all.

She fell for Duncan (jock boy) the moment she saw her. At the time she wasn’t really self conscious about her appearance. She grew up mostly ignored by her family but close to Lucy and her parents.

When Duncan and Elias (sunny guy) began pursuing Lucy the four of them started hanging out together.

At this time Maxine was naive and in love. She had talked with Lucy about her crush on Duncan when they were talking about their crushes.

At this point Lucy wasn’t really sure of her feelings for Elias... or at least she wasn’t ready to say it out loud.

From the girls point of view, Lucy was coming along to hang out with Elias when Duncan and Maxine were spending time together

Of course Maxine would think that Duncan liked her. They looked at each other... well Maxine looked at Duncan... and Duncan looked at Lucy, but Maxine didn’t know that.

Duncan was being nice to her and paying some kind of attention to her. He must have had some feelings for her...

For the first few weeks the four of them went on dates where Maxine would try to spend time alone with Duncan while he would try to spend time with Lucy instead

She thought he was shy... even tho he had a teputation of being a big flirt but she thought that it was different with her because he really liked her

She finally got it when after a day where Duncan was particularly moody, she devided to surprise him after his training session

What she truly found out was that Duncan was getting sick of Elias monopolizing Lucy’s attention

He wanted to spend time with her not with her fat friend...

Maxine went back home on her own. she usually drive back with Lucy and her parents but right now she needed to be alone

... plus her father was about to get home from his buisness trip. She wanted to talk to him. He was always there to listen to her problem...

Except this time he didn’t came back and her outlook of life will change after that

Some precision, her father is not dead he just left her family. It’s important to know that even tho she was kind of neglected by her mother at the time before that, she didn’t have any issue with her appearance. But combining hearing your crush tell his friend that he’s tired of hanging out with you and your father leaving your mother for another woman (especialy if you look a lot like your mother), it can lower your perception of yourself.

I might do another post detailing the different relationships between the 4 of them and how they work.

Drop the Act

author:

writingfromtheshadows

summary:

If Dazai’s fingers slid any further down Chuuya’s restraint might completely collapse, and he grasped for something to say that could be a valid excuse, “Why would I want you anymore? Your goody two-shoes act puts me off.”

“It’s just an act.”

(or the one where Dazai’s been a Port Mafia spy all along)

Fuck Me Harder

author:

the_most_happy

summary:

“Right. Sorry to bother you, I recently moved next door.”

The guy cocked his head to the side, an 'o’ forming on his lips. They looked soft. An oddly specific thing to notice but Chuuya tried to ignore it.

“Oh.”

“And I need you to keep your— your sexual encounters to a decent volume if you don’t mind. Try to be a little respectful here, yeah?”

“...What if I don’t?”

[Or: that Soukoku AU where Chuuya just moved to his new penthouse and Dazai is that noisy neighbor who has very loud sex every night. I'm sorry.]

Touya Todoroki X Reader

✮⋆˙ I Am Here ✮⋆˙

‼️Genuine trigger warning. ‼️ If you have a hard time with people lashing out and if panic attacks trigger you, Do Not Read.

masterlist

Does Dabi get the chance to be happy and normal? It’s after the war and he was taken back in. He really doesn’t deserve it. or so he thinks.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The world was healing. Slowly but surely, people were rebuilding their lives, picking up the broken pieces, and shaping them into something better. The war had left scars on the land, on the people, on their souls but even scars could fade with time. Dabi, or how he’s been going by since he got back, Touya, wasn’t sure if his ever would.

He watched from a distance as his family talked and laughed together. It was strange. Foreign. A sight he never thought he’d see. Natsuo nudged Shoto, who rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away. Rei placed a gentle hand on Endeavor’s arm, and even though he still looked guilty, even though he knows she shouldn’t even go near him, he let her. And then there was you.

You fit into the Todoroki family like you had always belonged. You stood beside Fuyumi, laughing at something she said, your eyes bright with warmth. You were always like that light, warmth, love. The things Touya had never believed in. The things he had never thought he deserved. Until you.

You had been his contradiction. A pro hero who should have seen him as nothing but a villain, yet you had looked at him like he was human. You had never made excuses for him, never pretended he hadn’t done terrible things, but you had seen him. And because of you, he had started to believe, just for a moment, that maybe he wasn’t beyond saving. That maybe he could be more than destruction.

But that was back then. Now, everyone was moving on. You were happy, smiling, growing. And yet, he wasn’t. He felt stuck, caught between his past and a future he wasn’t sure he had a place in. Watching you get along with his family should have made him feel… something. Hope, maybe. Comfort. Instead, all it did was remind him of how much he didn’t belong.

Years of resentment didn’t just disappear. The hatred, the anger, the loneliness. he had fed off of it for so long. Letting go of it felt like losing a part of himself. How was he supposed to just sit with them, talk with them, pretend like there weren’t decades of pain between them? And yet… he wanted to.

He wanted to be what you had been for him. A reason to believe in something better. He wanted to learn how to be a part of this family, to see if love could exist here the way it had existed with you. But it was terrifying. What if he wasn’t capable of it? What if, in the end, he was still the same broken, angry person who would never fit?

His hands clenched into fists. Maybe it was okay if he wasn’t moving on as fast as everyone else. Maybe it was okay if healing took time. Because at least now, he had a reason to try.

Touya wasn’t sure how long he stood there, watching from a distance. The laughter, the conversations, the warmth it all felt like something happening in another world, one he had no right to step into. But then you saw him. Your smile didn’t falter, didn’t hesitate. It was the same as it had always been steady, real. You said something to Fuyumi, and then, without a second thought, you started walking toward him.

Touya considered leaving. It wouldn’t have been hard. Just turn around, disappear before you could reach him. But his feet didn’t move. he was just tired of running. You stopped in front of him, tilting your head slightly, studying him the way you always did, like you were waiting for him to say something. But when he didn’t, you just sighed and reached out, grabbing his wrist with an easy familiarity.

“Come sit with us.” It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a demand, either. It was just you, offering him a choice.

He scoffed, looking away. “not sure if i’m wanted”

The world was healing. Slowly but surely, people were rebuilding their lives, picking up the broken pieces, and shaping them into something better. The war had left scars on the land, on the people, on their souls but even scars could fade with time. Dabi, or how he’s been going by since he got back, Touya, wasn’t sure if his ever would.

He watched from a distance as his family talked and laughed together. It was strange. Foreign. A sight he never thought he’d see. Natsuo nudged Shoto, who rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away. Rei placed a gentle hand on Endeavor’s arm, and even though he still looked guilty, even though he knows she shouldn’t even go near him, he let her. And then there was you.

You fit into the Todoroki family like you had always belonged. You stood beside Fuyumi, laughing at something she said, your eyes bright with warmth. You were always like that light, warmth, love. The things Touya had never believed in. The things he had never thought he deserved. Until you.

You had been his contradiction. A pro hero who should have seen him as nothing but a villain, yet you had looked at him like he was human. You had never made excuses for him, never pretended he hadn’t done terrible things, but you had seen him. And because of you, he had started to believe, just for a moment, that maybe he wasn’t beyond saving. That maybe he could be more than destruction.

But that was back then. Now, everyone was moving on. You were happy, smiling, growing. And yet, he wasn’t. He felt stuck, caught between his past and a future he wasn’t sure he had a place in. Watching you get along with his family should have made him feel… something. Hope, maybe. Comfort. Instead, all it did was remind him of how much he didn’t belong.

Years of resentment didn’t just disappear. The hatred, the anger, the loneliness. he had fed off of it for so long. Letting go of it felt like losing a part of himself. How was he supposed to just sit with them, talk with them, pretend like there weren’t decades of pain between them? And yet… he wanted to.

He wanted to be what you had been for him. A reason to believe in something better. He wanted to learn how to be a part of this family, to see if love could exist here the way it had existed with you. But it was terrifying. What if he wasn’t capable of it? What if, in the end, he was still the same broken, angry person who would never fit?

His hands clenched into fists. Maybe it was okay if he wasn’t moving on as fast as everyone else. Maybe it was okay if healing took time. Because at least now, he had a reason to try.

Touya had spent so many years convinced that warmth wasn’t meant for him. That love was something distant, a thing he could only witness from the outside but never hold. But there you were right in the middle of it, smiling, laughing, belonging. And it hurt. Because it should’ve been him.

He should’ve been the one sitting at that table, the one making his mother smile, the one who could joke with his siblings like they hadn’t spent years with an ocean of silence between them. But instead, it was you someone who hadn’t grown up in their house, who hadn’t carried their burdens.

And somehow, you made it look effortless. Touya thought he could handle it. Thought he could ignore the sharp ache twisting in his chest, the way his fingers curled into his sleeves like he could claw his way through the feeling. But then your eyes found him.

Even from across the yard, even with the voices and laughter around you, you saw him. And without hesitation, you excused yourself and walked toward him. He should’ve looked away. Should’ve turned and left before you could get too close. But you were always good at pulling him in.

“Hey,” you said, stopping in front of him. The way you looked at him was so unbearably soft, so tender, it made his throat tighten. He swallowed, glancing past you at the scene behind you. “…You’re doing good with them,” he muttered.

You tilted your head. “With who?”

He huffed out a dry laugh. “My family.”

You didn’t say anything right away, just watching him like you were waiting for him to say what was really on his mind. like always, he caved under your gaze. “They like you,” he said, voice quieter this time. “Better than me, probably.”

The words felt bitter, heavy. He hadn’t meant to say them, but once they were out, he couldn’t take them back. Your brows furrowed, and before he could pull away, your hand found his wrist. Your touch was warm, grounding, and he hated how much he leaned into it.

“Touya,” you said, voice gentle but firm. “That’s not true.”

He scoffed. “Isn’t it?” His gaze flickered toward the table, toward the people who had spent years without him. “I don’t even know if they want me here.”

Your grip tightened. “They do.”

He let out a slow breath, staring at you. “And how do you know that?”

You smiled, small but sure. “Because I do. And if I do, then I know they do, too.”

Something in his chest cracked. He didn’t know how you did that. how you always knew what to say, how you could make him believe in something better, even when everything inside him screamed that he shouldn’t.

“…You’re annoying,” he muttered.

You grinned. “And yet, here you are.”

He sighed, long and slow. The weight in his chest didn’t disappear, but it felt a little easier to carry with you standing there, holding onto him like he was worth something.

“Come sit with me,” you said, voice quieter now, more personal. A request just for him. And this time, he let you lead him forward. “I think you’d be surprised.” Your voice was soft, patient. You always had too much of that when it came to him. He wanted to argue, to push you away like he had done a thousand times before. But he didn’t. Maybe it was because he was tired. it was because, deep down, he knew you wouldn’t stop until he at least tried. it was because a part of him wanted to believe you were right. With a heavy sigh, he let you pull him forward. The conversation stilled slightly as the two of you approached. He could feel the weight of their eyes on him. his family, the people he had spent years hating, resenting, fighting. His shoulders tensed on instinct, waiting for something to go wrong. But nothing did.

Fuyumi was the first to speak, her voice light but careful. “Touya, do you want anything to eat? We made enough for everyone.”

He almost laughed at the absurdity of it. A dinner invitation, like this was normal. Like he was just some estranged brother finally coming home. He hesitated, glancing at you. Your fingers were still wrapped around his hand, a quiet anchor.

“…Yeah,” he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Sure.”

Natsuo smirked slightly, but there was no malice in it. “Guess miracles do happen.”

Touya rolled his eyes but didn’t snap back. The tension in his chest eased just a little. You smiled at him, giving his wrist one last squeeze before letting go. The absence of your touch made something inside him twist, but he ignored it. This wasn’t easy. It wasn’t comfortable. But maybe it didn’t have to be.

————————————

days weren’t always easy, there’s always a breaking Point. You could feel it before it happened the way the tension in his body coiled too tight, his breathing coming in sharp, uneven pulls. It was like standing beside a storm, knowing the winds were about to tear through everything in their path. Touya had been unraveling all day.

It started with the small things. His hands shaking when he thought no one was looking. The way he flinched at casual touches, like his own body didn’t know how to exist in this space. How his words had grown quieter, like he was sinking further into himself. You had been here before. You knew the signs. So when night fell and the house was quiet, you didn’t leave him alone. You sat beside him in his room, letting the silence stretch between you. Not pushing, not forcing just being there.

But then his hands went to his head, fingers digging into his hair as his breathing hitched, and you knew it was starting. “Touya,” you murmured, reaching out slowly, carefully.

He let out a sharp, ragged breath, shaking his head. “I—I can’t—” His voice broke, and then it all came crashing down. He folded in on himself, arms wrapping around his body like he could hold himself together, but it wasn’t working. His shoulders trembled, his breath came too fast, too shallow.

“Hey, I’ve got you,” you whispered, placing your hands over his. “You’re okay. Just breathe with me, alright?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head violently. “I don’t— I don’t know how to do this,” he gasped. “I don’t know how to be here.” His voice cracked on the last word, and it hit you like a punch to the chest.

You moved closer, gently pulling his hands away from his hair before he could bruise himself. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” you said softly. “Just stay with me. Just for this moment.” His body shook, his breaths ragged and uneven. He looked lost. Broken. And it killed you.

And then the door creaked open.

“Touya—?”

Shoto.

Touya’s entire body went rigid. His breath hitched, and the raw vulnerability in his expression shattered into something unreadable. Panic. Shame. Fear. Shoto froze in the doorway, eyes wide with uncertainty. He hadn’t meant to intrude. He had probably just been checking in, but it was too late.

Touya ripped himself away from you so fast it nearly knocked you back. He stumbled to his feet, fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his skin.

“Get out,” he rasped, voice wrecked.

Shoto didn’t move. His gaze flickered to you, then back to his brother. He took a hesitant step forward. “Touya, I—”

“Get out!” Touya roared, voice cracking under the weight of it. His breathing was harsh, erratic, like he was barely holding himself together. His entire body was trembling, and you could see it that look in his eyes. He was spiraling. You stood quickly, placing yourself between them before things could get worse. “Touya, look at me.”

He didn’t. He just stared past you, chest rising and falling too fast, hands shaking like he didn’t know whether to run or lash out.

“They don’t want me here,” he whispered, voice breaking apart. His gaze was unfocused, distant. “They never did. I should’ve just—” He cut himself off, but you knew what he was about to say. I should’ve just stayed gone.

Shoto’s expression twisted, something like hurt flashing across his face. “That’s not true.”

Touya let out a hollow, bitter laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. You turned back to him, slowly reaching for his hands. “You’re not alone in this,” you said softly. “I promise.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. His hands twitched, fingers curling slightly like he wanted to believe you. But the storm inside him was still raging, and you weren’t sure if he could hear you over the roar of it.

Shoto took another step forward. “Touya—”

“Stop saying my name like that! YOU have no rig by to be using my name like that” Touya’s voice cracked, and before you could stop him, he stumbled back, pressing his hands to his head. His breathing hitched, and then his knees buckled. You caught him before he could hit the ground.

“Touya, breathe,” you pleaded, holding onto him tightly. His body was shaking so badly it scared you. “Just stay with me. I’ve got you.”

His fingers clutched desperately at your arms, like he was trying to ground himself in something anything. And then, finally, finally, he let himself sink into you. You looked up at Shoto, who still stood frozen in the doorway, conflict and concern written all over his face.

“Give us a minute,” you murmured, your voice steady but gentle.

Shoto hesitated, then nodded, stepping back and quietly shutting the door behind him.

You turned your attention back to Touya, running a hand through his hair as he buried his face against your shoulder. His breath was uneven, but it was slowing, bit by bit.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he whispered, voice hoarse, exhausted.

“I know,” you murmured. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

He didn’t say anything, but the way he clung to you told you enough.

You held him tighter, whispering quiet reassurances into his hair.

Touya didn’t move for a long time. His breathing was still uneven, his body still trembling, but he didn’t pull away. He just stayed there, curled against you like he was afraid to let go.

You kept running your fingers through his hair, slow and steady, grounding him. “I’m here,” you murmured, voice soft. “I’ve got you.”

His grip on your shirt tightened. “I don’t—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face. His eyes were red rimmed, unfocused, still swimming with emotion. Still hurting. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” you said gently.

He exhaled shakily, looking past you. “I’m never gonna be what they want.”

Your heart twisted. “You don’t have to be anything for them. You just have to be here.”

He scoffed, but there wasn’t as much heat behind it. “Yeah? Shoto doesn’t even want me here.”

You sighed. “Shoto’s just awkward. You know he’s already bad at approaching people in general.”

Touya let out a breath, something that wasn’t quite a laugh, but not as bitter as before. “That’s not fair. He tries.”

You raised a brow. “So now you’re defending him?”

He frowned slightly, but you could see the shift. The way his hands weren’t shaking as much. How his breath wasn’t quite as ragged.

“He just, he’s got a lot of shit to figure out too, alright?” Touya muttered. “It’s not like this is easy for him either.”

You couldn’t help it you smiled. Because there it was. He cares. Touya caught the look on your face and immediately scowled. “What?”

You shook your head, amused. “Nothing.”

His frown deepened. “That was not a ‘nothing’ face.”

You just kept smiling, squeezing his hand. “I’m just glad you’re here.” His breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to argue. But then he exhaled, letting himself lean into you again, just slightly.

“…Yeah,” he muttered. “Okay.”

He just sat there, pressed against you, his breath slow and uneven but gradually steadying. The weight of everything still hung heavy between you, but the worst of the storm had passed.

You didn’t rush him. You didn’t try to force him to talk or move before he was ready. You just stayed there, one hand resting in his hair, the other loosely intertwined with his fingers. Eventually, his grip tightened.

“…You always do this,” he muttered, voice quiet, hoarse from earlier.

You hummed. “Do what?”

“Stay.” His fingers twitched in yours, like he was trying to put more words to it but couldn’t.

You smiled softly, pressing your forehead against his temple. “Of course I do.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t?”

His shoulders tensed. “You. This. Us.” He pulled back just enough to look at you, blue eyes searching yours, raw and unguarded. “I was a villain. I hurt people. I” He swallowed hard. “I hurt you.”

Your heart ached, but not for the reasons he probably thought. “Touya,” you murmured, cupping his face in your hands. He stiffened at the touch but didn’t pull away. You brushed your thumb along the rough, scarred skin of his cheek. “I know who you were. But I also know who you are.”

His breath hitched. His hands curled around your wrists, holding you there, like he was afraid you’d slip away.

“You love so much,” you whispered. “Even when you try not to. Even when you don’t realize it.”

He let out a shaky exhale, leaning into your touch despite himself. “I don’t know how to be what you deserve.”

You smiled, soft and certain. “You already are.”

His eyes widened, and for a second, something in them cracked open something vulnerable, something real. Then, slowly, carefully, he pressed his forehead against yours. His hands slid up to cup the sides of your face, fingers trembling slightly, like he was still afraid this wasn’t real.

“…I love you,” he murmured, the words barely more than a breath.

Your chest tightened. Not because you doubted it, but because you had always known. Even when he was fighting it. Even when he thought he wasn’t capable of love at all.

You smiled, tilting your head just enough to brush your nose against his. “I love you too.”

He let out a shaky breath, something between a sigh and a laugh. Then, without another word, he closed the space between you, pressing his lips to yours gentle, uncertain, but there.

And for the first time in a long time, Touya let himself believe in something good.

The Next Step

The morning was quiet.

The house had settled into a strange kind of peace—the kind that only comes after a storm. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t fixed. But it was something.

You stood off to the side of the courtyard, watching as Touya—Dabi—approached Shoto. His movements were tense, like he was forcing himself forward before his instincts could tell him to run.

Shoto, for his part, had been lingering outside as well. He had been expecting this. You could tell by the way his posture straightened when he noticed Touya walking toward him.

You stayed back, letting them have their space.

Touya shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders stiff. “Look, I—” He sighed, tilting his head back like he hated every second of this. “I was a dick last night.”

Shoto blinked, clearly caught off guard by how fast that came out. “You were upset,” he said simply.

Touya huffed. “That’s not an excuse.” He kicked at the ground. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Shoto studied him for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

Touya’s eye twitched. “Okay?”

Shoto shrugged. “I accept your apology.”

Touya stared at him, as if waiting for something else—for Shoto to fight him on it, to dig into him like their father would have. But he didn’t.

And that was probably more jarring than anything.

You watched as the tension in Touya’s shoulders lessened, even if just slightly.

“…Alright then,” he muttered.

Shoto hesitated before glancing your way. “Did they put you up to this?”

You grinned, resting your chin on your hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Touya rolled his eyes, shoving past Shoto. “I’m going inside before this gets any more sentimental.”

You clapped your hands together, stepping forward before he could escape. “Actually, I was thinking we should go get ice cream.”

Both brothers froze. Shoto blinked at you, as if trying to process whether he heard you correctly. Touya turned back slowly, brow furrowing. “What?”

“Ice cream,” you repeated cheerfully. “You know, that sweet, frozen treat people eat when they need to cool off? I think we all deserve some after last night.”

Touya’s nose scrunched. “That’s what?” He glanced at Shoto, who looked equally at a loss. “girl i swear to god-”

You shrugged.

Shoto shifted awkwardly, clearly not opposed to the idea but also not sure how to respond. “…I like ice cream,” he said after a long pause.

Touya narrowed his eyes at him. “You would.”

Shoto frowned. “What does that mean?”

Touya just sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s just go before you start making this worse.”

You beamed, throwing your arms around both of them before they could protest. “Great! My treat.”

Shoto stiffened slightly at the sudden contact, while Touya made a noise of protest, trying to wiggle out of your hold.

“…This is already worse,” he muttered.

You only grinned wider.

——

The three of you stood in front of the ice cream display, the cold air from the freezer fogging up the glass as you debated your choices. “This place has too many options,” Touya muttered, staring at the menu like it had personally offended him. “Why do people need this many flavors?”

Shoto, scanning the choices with an alarming level of concentration, replied, “Variety is good.”

“Not when it makes decisions harder.”

You hummed, tilting your head as you leaned into Touya’s shoulder just slightly. “What, having trouble picking? Want me to decide for you?”

Touya scoffed, but he didn’t move away. “Like hell I’d trust you with that.”

You smirked. “Come on, I’d pick something good.”

“You’d pick something ridiculous.”

You gasped in mock offense, nudging him with your hip. “I would not.”

He gave you a dry look. “I can literally see you considering the weirdest flavor here.” You grinned but said nothing, because he wasn’t wrong.

Shoto, still deep in thought, finally spoke. “Pistachio is good.”

Both you and Touya turned to look at him.

“That’s a weird choice,” Touya said bluntly.

Shoto frowned. “No, it isn’t.”

“Who even gets pistachio?”

“A lot of people.”

Touya made a face, crossing his arms. “Sounds fake.”

You laughed under your breath, barely stopping yourself from leaning into him again. He was still stiff in public, but the way his arm was just barely brushing yours told you he didn’t mind.

“Well, I think I’m getting cookies and cream,” you said, glancing back at the menu. “What about you, Touya?”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I dunno. Maybe vanilla.”

You gave him a look. “Vanilla?”

“What’s wrong with vanilla?”

“Nothing,” you said, clearly lying. “It’s just… safe.”

Touya rolled his eyes. “Not everything needs to be crazy like you”

“Boring,” you teased, bumping his arm lightly.

Shoto, seemingly ignoring the entire exchange, suddenly said, “We should have gone somewhere that serves soba.”

Both you and Touya turned to him again. Touya stared. “What?”

Shoto looked completely serious. “Soba is good.”

Touya let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “You’re a freak.”

Shoto didn’t even flinch. “You just ordered a boring flavour.”

“…Tch.” Touya clicked his tongue but had no argument.

You chuckled, stepping forward to finally place your order. “Alright, alright, let’s get our ice cream. And maybe next time, Shoto, we’ll take you to a soba shop instead.”

Shoto nodded, as if that was the best idea he had heard all day.

Touya Todoroki / Dabi x reader

Summary: As you pick Touya up from rehab, you reflect on how you got here

WARNING: hurt/ barely comfort. It’s a Dabi fanfic so prepare for rude behaviour and a lot of self deprecation on his part.

word count : 9734

FOLLOW ME AND GIVE ME SOME IDEAS!!

RUN BOY RUN - Woodkid

₍^. .^₎⟆ You drum your fingers against the steering wheel, staring at the front doors of the rehab center like they might explode. The car hums softly beneath you, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the parking lot. You’ve been sitting here for a while, waiting. Thinking.

It’s been weeks since you last saw Touya. Weeks of wondering if he’d actually stay. Weeks of resisting the urge to show up just to check.

And now, finally, here he comes.

The doors push open, and there he is, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind. His hair’s a mess, probably hasn’t touched a comb in days and his scars catch the sunlight in a way that makes them stand out even more. He looks tired, in a way that’s more than just physical. But his eyes? Still sharp. Still him.

The second he spots you, he stops. Just stands there, staring, like he wasn’t expecting you to actually be here.

You push open the car door and step out before he can overthink it. “Hey,” you say, keeping it easy.

Touya scoffs, tilting his head. “Hey.” His voice is rough, like he hasn’t used it much.

You take him in, scanning for any sign of what? A breakthrough? A relapse? Hell if you know. He just looks… different. Not better, necessarily. But different.

“How was it?” you ask.

Touya rolls his eyes. “Awful.” Classic. “Same boring speeches, same awkward group sessions. Food was shit.”

You smirk. “No shock there.”

He exhales sharply, something like amusement, but you don’t miss the tension in his shoulders.

“But you stayed,” you say, watching him closely.

Something flickers across his face quick, almost undetectable. He looks away, shifting his weight. “…Yeah,” he mutters. “Guess I did.”

For a moment, neither of you say anything. It’s not awkward, just… heavy. The weight of everything unsaid sits between you, pressing at the edges. You had spent weeks wondering if he’d bail, if you’d get some shitty phone call, if you’d ever see him again. And now he’s here. Whole.

Touya clears his throat and jerks his chin toward the car. “You just gonna make me stand here, or what?”

You blink, shaking off your thoughts. “Right.” You open the passenger door. “Get in.”

He hesitates for half a second before slumping into the seat with a quiet sigh. As you settle into the driver’s side, you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He’s staring out the window, absently picking at the frayed edge of his sleeve.

You grip the wheel. “You hungry?”

Touya snorts. “Depends. You taking me somewhere that serves actual food?”

“Yeah, yeah. No more rehab cafeteria mystery meat, I swear.”

For the first time, he smirks just barely, but it’s there. Then, after a beat, he mutters, “…Thanks for picking me up.”

Something tightens in your chest, but it’s not worry this time.

“Yeah yeah,” you say, pulling out of the parking lot. “now don’t get emotional on me.”

Touya leans his head against the window, exhaling as the car rolls forward, the sun sinking lower in the sky. And for now, that’s enough.

—-

When you met him, no one could have guessed that he’d be in your car sharing an intimate bond to intimate so fast.

The first time you and Dabi met, he tried to kill you.

No, really he actually tried. None of that lazy, half-assed, villain posturing. He sent a fucking wall of blue fire straight at you, no warning, no witty one liner. And when you barely managed to dodge, he clicked his tongue like he was annoyed you had the audacity to survive.

“Should’ve just stood still,” he’d said, tilting his head, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and boredom. “Would’ve saved us both a lot of time.”

“You always this much of an asshole, or am I just special?” you shot back, already bracing for the next attack.

Dabi had smirked, rolling his shoulders. “Dunno. Guess we’ll find out.”

That was how it started.

And somehow, for reasons neither of you ever addressed, your run-ins turned into something else. You fought, sure. But over time, it stopped feeling like an actual battle and more like… a routine. A bad habit. A game. He never went for the kill. You never hit him hard enough to stop him. And when the fights ended, more often than not, you’d end up talking.

Which led to nights like this.

Tonight, it was an abandoned lot. He’d set some shit on fire, you’d put it out, and now he was perched on the edge of a rusted-out shipping container, cigarette between his fingers, watching you like he was waiting to be entertained.

“You’re getting slow,” he remarked, exhaling a curl of smoke.

You shot him a look as you stomped out the last few embers. “Or maybe you’re just getting predictable.”

Dabi snorted. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

You climbed up onto the container, ignoring the way he barely shifted to make room for you. He always did that sat like he dared you to invade his space, then acted all put out when you actually did.

“Real ambitious arson job tonight,” you muttered, stretching out your legs. “You only half-commit to everything, or just crime?”

Dabi flicked ash in your direction. “Like you’re one to talk. You had at least three chances to stop me, and you didn’t.” He shot you a sideways glance, smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Starting to think you like having me around.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, because listening to you bitch and moan is so much fun.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” he said, lazily tapping ash off the side. “Can’t have you getting soft. If anything i’m helping a little girl become a hero”

You scoffed but didn’t argue. And that was the thing this was normal now. Fighting, bickering, sitting around after like you weren’t supposed to be on opposite sides. Like you weren’t supposed to be enemies.

Maybe that’s why you started noticing things.

Like how he leaned against walls like his legs were seconds from giving out. Or how his hands shook just a little when he smoked, like the heat didn’t quite reach all the way through him. Or how, no matter how sharp his smirk was, his eyes never quite matched.

And because you were a fucking idiot, you started caring.

Which is why, after another long, pointless fight, you threw a water bottle at him.

Dabi caught it, glaring. “The hell is this?”

“Hydration, dipshit,” you said, wiping sweat from your forehead. “Y’know, because you’re a walking pile of burnt kindling, and I’d rather not have you passing out mid fight.”

He stared at the bottle like it had personally offended him. Then at you. Then back at the bottle.

“You do realize I hate you, right?” he deadpanned.

“Uh-huh. Drink the damn water, Dabi.”

His jaw tightened, fingers flexing like he was debating throwing it at your head.

Instead, he cracked the cap open, took a slow sip, and never broke eye contact.

“…You’re fucking annoying,” he muttered.

You grinned. “And yet, here we are.”

He exhaled sharply, flicked his cigarette away, and leaned back against the wall. For once, he didn’t have a comeback. Just sat there, eyes flickering toward the skyline, quiet for once.

Not as a villain. Not as a hero.

Just as a guy too stubborn to admit he might not hate the company and just maybe a guy learning people can care for him.

Though it didn’t stop there, meetings became a lot more frequent.

“You stalking me, hero?”

Dabi didn’t even bother looking at you as you landed on the rooftop beside him. Just flicked his cigarette, barely missing your foot, and leaned back like he didn’t have a care in the world.

You sighed. “You just torched a building. Kinda my job to show up.”

“Yeah? And yet, here you are not doing shit about it.” He smirked, finally turning to you. “Shouldn’t you be slapping cuffs on me or whatever the fuck it is heroes do?”

You rolled your eyes. “Like you’d let me.”

“Damn right I wouldn’t.” He exhaled a slow stream of smoke, letting it curl between his fingers before he flicked the cigarette off the side of the roof. “And we both know you don’t have the balls to try though you might like the cuffs on you.”

You clenched your jaw but didn’t argue not wanting to entertain whatever thoughts he’s trying to imply, which only made his smirk widen. “That’s what I thought.”

“You always this fucking insufferable, or is it just for me?”

Dabi gave you a slow, lazy once-over, tilting his head. “I save my worst for special people.”

“Wow. Flattered.”

“You should be.” He stretched his arms over his head, sighing. “Not everyone gets to be my personal waste of time.”

You crossed your arms. “You say that, and yet, you’re the one still talking to me.”

Dabi chuckled low, rough, full of something mean. “Yeah. Guess I like watching you squirm.”

—-

You hit the ground hard, barely rolling in time to avoid getting fried. The pavement still sizzled from Dabi’s flames, burning through your sleeves as you pushed yourself up.

Dabi, still standing like he didn’t just try to incinerate you, gave you the most unimpressed look of all time. “That was pathetic.”

You spat blood onto the ground, glaring up at him. “You hit like a bitch.”

Dabi actually laughed at that, crouching just enough to get in your face. “You wish I hit like a bitch.” His fingers twitched, heat curling around them. “We both know I could turn you to fucking ash if I wanted to.”

You swallowed hard but held his gaze. “Then why don’t you?”

He tilted his head, watching you like a cat watching a half dead mouse. Then his grin stretched slow and sharp.

“‘Cause I like this,” he murmured. “Watching you scrape yourself off the ground. Watching you try so fucking hard to be something.” He leaned in just a little closer, voice dropping to something almost amused. “It’s entertaining.”

Your fists clenched. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know that?”

Dabi smirked. “Yeah. And?”

You shoved yourself up, ignoring how your legs ached. “One day, I’m gonna put you down for good.”

His grin widened like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Oh, please do.”

——

Dabi was sitting on the curb like he had just clocked out of a long shift at his 9-to-5 arson job. Arms draped over his knees, a half-burnt cigarette dangling from his fingers, and an expression so profoundly bored that you had to take a second to process the absolute wreckage behind him.

The alley looked like a battlefield. Scorch marks everywhere, trash melted into unrecognizable blobs, and some guy still smoking from the flames. He was groaning, which was good it meant he was alive. But considering how crispy he looked, he probably wasn’t gonna be winning any beauty pageants soon.

You let out a long, suffering sigh. “Dabi.”

Dabi tilted his head back lazily to look at you. Then he exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “Oh. You.”

You planted your hands on your hips, giving him the best I am so fucking tired look you could muster. “What the fuck happened this time?”

Dabi gave you a slow blink, like you just asked him why the sky was blue. “What the fuck do you think happened?” He waved a vague hand at the destruction behind him. “I had a bad night.”

You threw up your hands. “And what, this was your therapy session? You scorched a guy!”

Dabi sighed dramatically, rolling his neck. “And yet, he’s still breathing. How ‘bout that?”

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “You have to stop causing problems for fun.”

He snorted. “Wrong. The problems cause me for fun.”

You gave him a long, unimpressed stare. “Did you read that off a bumper sticker?”

Dabi smirked. “Nah. Came up with it just now. Pretty good, huh?”

You ignored that. “Did it ever occur to you to just… I don’t know, go home and watch TV like a normal person?”

“I am watching something,” Dabi said, grinning. “You. Losing your goddamn mind.”

You let out a slow, deep breath, resisting the urge to punt him into the nearest dumpster.

Then Dabi rested his chin on his palm, gaze flicking over you. “And yet, here you are. Again.”

You squinted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smirked. “If I had a dollar for every time you showed up to stop me but didn’t actually stop me, I’d be able to afford the therapy that daddy dearest never gave me.”

You jabbed a finger at him. “Listen here, you little shit—”

“I mean, really,” he went on, like you hadn’t spoken. “You could be off doing hero stuff. Arresting actual villains. Filing paperwork. Touching grass. But nah. Instead, you’re here. With me.” His smirk widened. “Kinda pathetic, don’t you think?”

Your fingers twitched. So help me God, you thought, if I don’t get out of here in the next five minutes, I am actually going to commit a crime.

You inhaled sharply through your nose, turned on your heel, and started walking.

“You’re not worth the effort.”

Dabi chuckled behind you, lazy and full of smug amusement.

“Keep telling yourself that, hero.”

——

The drive is quiet. its a warm kind of quiet. No one felt like they wanted break it. It was comfortable.

Touya is slouched in the passenger seat, arms crossed, jaw locked, radiating the kind of hostility that could curdle milk. His whole vibe is very moody teenager who just got grounded, which is impressive considering he’s a grown-ass man.

You let the silence ride for a while, because you know him. You know he’s stewing. Probably pissed at himself for actually staying in rehab instead of setting the place on fire and walking out in a dramatic blaze of glory. Maybe pissed at you for witnessing the fact that he actually completed something for once in his life.

After a few more minutes of unbearable tension, you finally break.

“You want food?”

Touya snorts. “What, we celebrating?”

You keep your eyes on the road. “I just figured you’d rather eat something that isn’t microwaved cardboard.”

“Bold of you to assume I even ate that shit.”

You exhale slowly through your nose. Patience. Touya is like a stray cat he hisses, scratches, and pretends he doesn’t need anything, but if you ignore him long enough, he eventually starts lurking near your door at dinner time.

“There’s a diner up ahead,” you say, because you will be feeding this dumbass whether he likes it or not. “It’s either that or you starve.”

Touya sighs, like agreeing to basic human needs is such a burden. “Fine. Whatever.”

-

The diner you pull into looks like it should’ve been condemned twenty years ago. The neon sign flickers like it’s having an existential crisis, and the parking lot is a graveyard of questionable life choices.

Inside, the place is nearly empty just a couple of truckers at the counter, mumbling over half-eaten plates of regret. The waitress barely looks up as you both slide into a booth.

Touya, being Touya, immediately sprawls out like he owns the joint, kicking his feet onto the seat across from him. He snatches up a menu but doesn’t actually read it just taps his fingers against the table like he’s already planning an escape route.

The waitress shuffles over, popping her gum. “What’ll it be?”

“Cheeseburger. Extra fries. Coffee,” Touya says, snapping the menu shut like he just finalized a business deal.

You squint at him. “Coffee? This late?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you my mom now?”

You stare at him, debating whether or not to slide his menu across the table and slap him with it.

Instead, you sigh and place your own order. The waitress scribbles it down, looking just about as done with this conversation as you are, then walks off.

Touya slouches even further if he keeps this up, he’s going to merge with the booth. “So. You gonna give me some big, cheesy speech about how proud you are of me?”

You don’t even blink. “Do you want one?”

His lip curls. “Hell no.”

“Then no.”

Touya squints at you like he’s waiting for the catch. Like you’re gonna hit him with some life is a journey Hallmark bullshit at any moment. But when you don’t, he just clicks his tongue and looks away.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” he mutters. “Could’ve just called a cab.”

“Yeah, I could’ve.” You lean back in your seat. “But I didn’t.”

His fingers twitch against the table, like he wants to argue but can’t come up with a good enough reason. So instead, he scoffs and mutters, “You’re a pain in the ass.”

You smirk. “Yeah, well. So are you.”

When the food finally arrives, Touya wastes zero time inhaling it like he’s fresh out of a 24-hour famine. Fries? Shoveled into his mouth at breakneck speed. Burger? Absolutely demolished. It’s impressive, really. Borderline concerning.

You eat like a normal human being, sipping your drink as he continues his speed run.

Eventually, between bites, he mutters, “…Food’s not bad.”

You hide your smile behind your drink. “I’ll take that as a thank you.”

Touya glares. “Don’t push it.”

You let the conversation fizzle out after that. No talking about home. No lectures. No big emotional moments. Just greasy diner food and the occasional sarcastic remark.

And when you both eventually leave and get back in the car, he doesn’t argue when you take the long way home. Doesn’t snap when the silence stretches again this time a little less heavy.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s his way of saying thanks.

You’re halfway through your plate when you notice it Touya has stopped inhaling his food like a wild animal and is just… sitting there. Not glaring, not throwing sarcastic barbs, just absentmindedly pushing a fry around his plate with a vaguely thoughtful expression.

You blink. “Oh God.”

Touya raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re thinking.” You point at him with your fork. “That’s never a good sign.”

He scoffs, shoving the fry into his mouth. “Shut up.”

But he doesn’t immediately follow it with another insult, which is weird. He just leans back, arms crossed, staring at you like he’s weighing whether or not to say something.

You tilt your head. “What?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, like this this moment, this entire night is physically painful for him. Then, finally, he mutters, “You look tired.”

You blink again. “Wow. Thanks. That’s what every person wants to hear.”

Touya rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying. When’s the last time you actually slept?”

You shrug. “I sleep.”

He snorts. “Yeah? When? Between your constant babysitting and whatever dumbass hero shit you’re doing?”

You open your mouth, then close it. Because okay, maybe you don’t get as much sleep as you should. But it’s not like he’s one to talk.

Touya notices your hesitation and smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

“Yeah, well,” you huff, stabbing at your food, “not all of us have the luxury of napping through our responsibilities.”

“Luxury?” He scoffs. “I was in rehab.”

“You chose not to set the place on fire and escape. I call that a vacation.”

Touya stares at you for a second, then against all odds laughs. Not his usual sharp, mocking laugh, but something quieter. Real. It throws you off so badly that you just sit there, blinking at him.

“What?” he asks, still smirking.

“You laughed.”

He tilts his head, pretending to think. “Shit, did I?”

“Yes, and it wasn’t even a mean laugh.” You squint. “Are you dying?”

Touya rolls his eyes. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”

“Says the guy who fake-died for three years.”

“Touché.”

You shake your head, still thrown by the fact that he’s being… weirdly chill. Like he’s actually letting himself exist in this moment instead of treating it like some obligatory punishment. It’s suspicious.

Then, just as you’re about to call him out on it, he reaches across the table, plucks a fry off your plate, and pops it into his mouth.

You gape at him. “Did you just—”

“Yep.” He grabs another one. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

You slap his hand away, scandalized. “I fed you! I rescued you from microwave mush, and this is how you repay me?”

Touya grins, all teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling just slightly. “Consider it a tax.”

You groan, dropping your head onto the table. “I should’ve left you in rehab.”

“Eh,” he says, stealing one more fry just to be an asshole, “but you didn’t.”

And for once, there’s no smugness behind it. Just quiet acknowledgement.

No thank you, no big emotional revelation just a stolen fry and the simple fact that, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he is, you still showed up.

—

The air was thick with smoke, the night split by the wail of sirens and the distant shouts of first responders. The whole block was bathed in flickering orange light, fire consuming what used to be a warehouse now it was just a giant cautionary tale about what happens when dumbasses with unstable quirks play with explosives.

You exhaled through your nose, mask pulled up high, and glanced at the six-foot wall of muscle and arrogance standing beside you. Fucking Endeavor.

“So,” you said, tilting your head toward the raging inferno, “A+ work on the whole ‘subtle infiltration’ plan.”

Endeavor didn’t even look at you. Not surprising. “This isn’t the time for sarcasm.”

You gestured broadly at the absolute catastrophe in front of you. “See, I disagree. Because if we’re not laughing, we’re crying, and I—” You clapped a hand to your chest. “—am emotionally fragile.”

“Focus.” His voice was clipped, sharp, like he was the only professional here.

You rolled your eyes. “Right, right. ‘No nonsense. Only mission.’ Because God forbid we acknowledge that this is a shitshow.”

He ignored you, which was basically the foundation of your entire working relationship.

“What’s the plan?” you asked, already scanning the building for signs of movement.

“Contain the fire and get the survivors out,” he said, striding forward. Flames licked up his arms, rolling off his shoulders like he wasn’t currently surrounded by highly flammable debris.

You sighed, flexing your fingers. “Cool. Love a good ‘rushing into a death trap’ moment.”

Still no reaction.

You followed him in, ducking through the collapsed doorway as heat immediately punched you in the face. Smoke curled through the halls, thick and suffocating, clinging to the walls like a living thing. You yanked your sleeve over your mouth, glaring at Endeavor’s broad back.

“You ever not act like you’re fireproof?” you muttered.

“I am fireproof,” he shot back.

You scoffed. “Okay, but I’m not, so let’s not turn this place into a crematorium before we’re done.”

Predictably, he didn’t dignify that with a response.

You both moved quickly, scanning the rooms, stepping over broken crates and unconscious bodies. Most of the smuggling ring had been handled either burned, unconscious, or very interested in getting arrested if it meant not being roasted alive.

The first survivors were on the second floor, huddled in what used to be an office but was now just another death trap.

You stepped over the threshold, crouching beside a barely conscious man. “Hey, buddy,” you murmured, hoisting him onto your shoulder. “Let’s get you the hell out of here before this place caves in, yeah?”

Endeavor hauled up another survivor with ease, barely even trying. God, so annoying.

“Get them out,” he ordered. “I’ll keep moving.”

You adjusted your grip, ignoring the sweat rolling down your temple. “Awesome. You run headfirst into hell, I’ll play babysitter.”

You turned on your heel, smoke curling at your feet as you hurried back out.

By the time you made it outside, paramedics were already rushing forward, taking the man from your arms. You exhaled sharply, rolling your shoulders, and turned back toward the warehouse.

Endeavor was still inside.

Not that you doubted him. He was the number two hero for a reason. But you’d seen enough missions go south to know that confidence didn’t mean shit when fire had a mind of its own.

Then—

An explosion rocked the building.

Your stomach lurched, heart pounding. For a split second, pure instinct screamed at you to move, to go back in but then, blue-orange flames burst from the second floor, and a moment later, Endeavor strode out of the smoke, dragging the last survivor behind him.

Because of course he did.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah. Congrats on being a one man army.”

He barely spared you a glance, brushing soot off his shoulder like he hadn’t just walked through an explosion. “Handled.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Oh, for sure. Totally casual. You ever not act like you just expect to survive every dumbass decision you make?”

His eyes cut to you, sharp and assessing. “You don’t take this seriously enough.”

You arched an eyebrow. “And you take it so seriously you forget to breathe. Maybe if you stopped treating every mission like a personal vendetta, people wouldn’t be so quick to call you an ass.”

His expression didn’t change. “I get results.”

You snorted. “And I get migraines every time we work together. Funny how that works.”

Endeavor let out a huff his version of done with this conversation and turned away, stalking toward the police.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you surveyed the mess around you. Another night, another catastrophic team up with Japan’s most emotionally constipated man.

You really needed a drink after this.

But before you could make a break for the nearest bar, a voice rumbled beside you.

“…You did well.”

You blinked. Slowly turned your head.

Endeavor didn’t look at you just kept his gaze on the wreckage, arms crossed, face unreadable.

You squinted. “I’m sorry. What?”

His jaw ticked, like saying it physically pained him. “…I said, you did well.”

A slow grin spread across your face. “Holy shit.”

Endeavor immediately looked regretful. “Forget it.”

“Oh no no no, you don’t get to take that back.” You clutched your chest, mock gasping. “Endeavor praised me? I think I might cry.”

He sighed through his nose, very pointedly not engaging.

But you weren’t done.

“Wow. This must be what being a favorite child feels like.” You nudged him with your elbow. “Does this mean I get a ‘World’s Okayest Sidekick’ mug? Maybe a ‘#1 Emotional Support Hero’ t-shirt?”

Endeavor turned his head slightly. “You want a mug?”

You blinked. “Wait. Are you serious?”

He shrugged, which, coming from him, was basically a yes.

You grinned.

Oh, you were never letting him live this down

Now your relationship with the number 2 hero was never your favourite team ups. Though you did feel a strange bit of validation and growth every time you had the chance.

—

You had fought villains, survived explosions, and worked with Endeavor without committing arson (yet), but nothing, nothing. had prepared you for sitting at the Todoroki family dinner table.

Yet here you were, trapped between Hawks, who looked way too entertained, and Shoto, who was sipping his drink like he was emotionally detached from this entire situation.

Endeavor sat at the head of the table, arms crossed like he also didn’t want to be here, and Fuyumi was the only one smiling like this wasn’t the most awkward hostage situation you’d ever been part of.

“So!” she said brightly, setting down a plate in front of you. “How has working with my dad been?”

You immediately froze, a piece of food halfway to your mouth. Slowly, slowly, you turned your head to glance at Endeavor.

He was already looking at you.

Judging.

Daring you to open your mouth and ruin your career.

Hawks, the absolute devil, nudged your side with his elbow. “Go on. Be honest.”

You took a sip of water to buy yourself some time. “Well…” You cleared your throat. “He’s, uh… very efficient.”

Shoto snorted. “That’s a polite way to put it.”

You pointed your fork at him. “See? He gets it.”

Endeavor exhaled through his nose, which, given the fact that his entire body was basically a walking furnace, made it look like he was barely restraining himself from setting the table on fire. “If you have something to say, say it.”

Hawks smirked, leaning closer. “Yeah, say it.”

You shot him a you are so dead after this look before sighing dramatically. “Fine. You want the truth?” You turned to Endeavor. “Working with you is like trying to have a conversation with a brick wall, if that brick wall was actively judging you and could also set things on fire.”

Fuyumi gasped. Shoto took another sip of his drink. Hawks nearly collapsed against the table, laughing.

Endeavor, completely unfazed, just grunted. “You still get the job done.”

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “I am so touched.”

Hawks wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Man, this is so much better than I imagined.”

You turned to Fuyumi. “Blink twice if you need rescuing.”

She actually laughed at that, waving a hand. “Oh, it’s not that bad!”

Shoto, still completely monotone: “It is that bad.”

Endeavor let out the longest suffering sigh of his life.

By the time dinner ended, you were slumped against the doorway, utterly drained. Hawks, of course, was thriving, stretching his arms over his head. “Well, that was fun! Same time next week?”

You whipped around. “Do not manifest that.”

Fuyumi clapped her hands together. “Oh! That would be wonderful—”

“NO.” You pointed a warning finger at Hawks. “This is your fault.”

He grinned. “Worth it.”

As you stepped outside, you exhaled deeply, rubbing your temples. “I need a drink.”

Hawks slung an arm over your shoulders. “Told you it’d be fun.”

You shoved him off. “Keigo, I swear to god—”

—

Fighting Dabi was always a pain in the ass. Not just because of the fire which, yeah, was a huge problem but because he never shut up.

Tonight was no different. Flames roared around you, painting the alleyway in flickering blue as you dodged another wave of heat. The bastard was laughing, like this was some kind of game.

“What’s the matter, hero?” Dabi taunted, taking a lazy step forward. “Too hot for you?”

You huffed, rolling your shoulders as you steadied yourself. “Wow, never heard that one before. You come up with that yourself?”

His smirk widened. “Nah. I save my best material for special occasions.”

Before you could throw back another quip, Dabi’s eyes flickered to your uniform specifically, to the slight burn mark on your sleeve, barely visible but unmistakable.

And then, his entire demeanor changed.

His smirk faltered, replaced by something sharper. More calculating. His gaze darkened.

“Huh.” He tilted his head, stepping closer. “That’s interesting.”

You kept your stance firm, watching him carefully. “What?”

Dabi’s eyes flicked back to yours, his grin returning, but this time it was more… sinister. “That burn mark.”

You frowned, glancing at your sleeve. “Yeah? What about it?”

He let out a low chuckle, but there was something off about it something almost too amused. “Been spending time with other guys? I thought we were exclusive”

Your stomach twisted, but you kept your expression neutral. “oh? and what makes you say that?”

Dabi crossed his arms, the flames around his hands flickering dangerously. “So… you’ve been working with him, huh?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb.” His voice dripped with something between mockery and genuine intrigue. “You’ve been on missions with Endeavor.”

You still weren’t sure why that mattered to him, but something in his tone made your skin crawl. You scoffed, keeping your voice even. “Yeah, so? He’s the number two hero. I work with a lot of pros.”

Dabi let out a slow whistle, shaking his head. “Man, that’s hilarious.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What the hell is so funny?”

His smirk widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You, hero. Running around, playing sidekick to that bastard.” He let out a low chuckle, stepping even closer. “I wonder… did he finally get what he wanted?”

Your jaw clenched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dabi’s smirk twitched, like he was enjoying some inside joke at your expense. “Nothing. Just seems like you don’t know your mentor as well as you think.”

Something about the way he said it sent a chill down your spine. But you weren’t about to let him rattle you. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

Dabi just grinned, stepping back. “Nah. I think I’ll let you figure it out yourself.”

And before you could stop him, he vanished into the night, leaving behind nothing but embers and more questions than you wanted to deal with.

—

You had somehow let Fuyumi trick you into another dinner. You weren’t sure how it happened one second, you were wrapping up a mission with Endeavor, and the next, you and Hawks were walking up to the Todoroki house like it was some weekly scheduled event.

“You manifested this,” you muttered, glaring at Hawks as you knocked on the door.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, smirking. “I think this is great for you.”

“I hope you get hit by a rogue Nomu.”

The door opened before Hawks could come up with a comeback, and Fuyumi greeted you with her usual bright smile. “You came!”

“Yeah, yeah, against my better judgment,” you muttered as she ushered you inside.

This time, the vibe was slightly less tense than before. Natsuo still wasn’t here (no surprise), but the rest of the family was present Endeavor looked like he would rather be anywhere else, Shoto was neutral as always, and Hawks was making himself way too comfortable again.

As Fuyumi moved to set the table, you noticed something different this time a photo album was open on the coffee table, pages slightly worn at the edges.

You nudged Hawks and motioned toward it. “Look at this. Actual proof that Endeavor has been outside of a crime scene.”

Hawks chuckled, leaning in. “Wow. I can’t even picture him smiling.”

You flipped a few pages, finding old photos of Fuyumi, Shoto, and Natsuo when they were kids. The pictures looked almost normal—almost like any other family.

Then you saw a photo that made you pause.

It was a boy, older than Shoto but still young, with white hair and striking blue eyes. He was grinning, arms crossed with a cocky smirk, like he knew he was the coolest person in the room.

You frowned, tapping the picture. “Who’s this?”

Fuyumi turned from the kitchen and followed your gaze. Her expression softened just slightly. “Oh… that’s Touya.”

You glanced at Hawks, who also looked mildly surprised. “Huh. Never heard of him.”

Fuyumi’s smile dimmed just a little. “He was our oldest brother.”

Was.

You weren’t dumb. That single word told you enough.

Endeavor’s entire posture tensed, but he didn’t say anything, just kept staring at the table like the conversation wasn’t happening.

Shoto was unreadable as ever. “He passed away a long time ago.”

You blinked, looking between them. You hadn’t even known Endeavor had another kid, and now you were learning he was dead?

Hawks, who was usually one to crack a joke, was silent beside you, his sharp eyes studying the photo with an unusual seriousness. “How?”

Fuyumi hesitated, shooting a glance at her father. “An accident,” she said carefully. “A fire.”

You didn’t need a full explanation to understand there was a lot more to the story than she was letting on. The entire atmosphere in the room had shifted like an invisible weight had settled over the conversation, suffocating and heavy.

You looked at the boy in the picture again. Touya. Something about his expression, his posture, felt oddly familiar, but you couldn’t place why.

Hawks leaned back, whistling lowly. “Damn. Didn’t know you had another sibling, Shoto.”

Shoto’s eyes flickered to his father before looking away. “Most people don’t.”

You glanced at Endeavor, who was completely silent, jaw clenched. If the man was already emotionally constipated on a good day, now he looked like someone had shoved a grenade down his throat and pulled the pin.

Yeah. You were not asking follow-up questions.

Fuyumi gave you a sad smile before quickly trying to shift the mood. “Anyway! Dinner’s ready.”

You exchanged a glance with Hawks, silently agreeing to drop it for now.

But as you ate, your eyes kept drifting back to that photo. There was something about it, something that made your stomach twist.

Something that told you this wasn’t the whole story.

—

You’re barely five minutes into the drive when Touya starts fidgeting. One leg bouncing, fingers tapping, sighing dramatically every few minutes like he’s about to say something and then deciding against it.

You ignore him for as long as humanly possible.

Then another heavy sigh.

“For fuck’s sake,” you say, glancing at him. “What?”

Touya smirks. “Nothing. Just love a good awkward silence.”

You roll your eyes and turn down a side street, heading toward an old parking lot on the edge of the city. It’s the kind of place that’s either a sketchy drug deal spot or just an abandoned lot that no one’s cared about for years. Either way, it’s empty, which is exactly what you need.

When you park, Touya squints at you. “Oh, nice. Super ominous.” He leans back, crossing his arms. “So, what, this is where you tell me you’ve secretly been hired to kill me? ‘Cause, honestly? Should’ve done it before you wasted money on my food.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, digging around in the glove compartment. “I’m playing the long con.”

Touya watches as you pull out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes. He blinks. “The hell? Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t.” You tap the pack against your palm, knocking one loose. “Except when I do.”

He huffs a laugh and pulls out his own pack. “Terrible influence. Hope you know that.”

“You’re literally the last person who gets to say that to me.”

Touya just shrugs, flicking his lighter open. He takes a slow drag, then leans over the console, offering you the lighter with a lazy smirk. “Go on, then. Join me in my terrible life choices.”

You roll your eyes but lean in, lighting your cigarette. The first inhale burns your lungs in a way that’s almost nostalgic, and when you exhale, the smoke curls into the night air.

For a while, neither of you speak. Just sit there, smoking in companionable silence, staring out at the city lights in the distance.

Then Touya, ever the shit-stirrer, side-eyes you. “Soooo… you’re in love with me, right?”

You cough on your cigarette, nearly choking. “What the fuck—”

He grins, leaning back against the seat. “I mean, think about it. You picked me up, bought me food, brought me to this super romantic abandoned parking lot—” He gestures vaguely. “Like, if you’re gonna confess, at least do it with some dramatic flair.”

You take a slow, pointed drag. Exhale. Stare him dead in the eyes.

“Touya,” you say dryly, “if I were in love with you, I’d have worse problems than this cigarette.”

He snorts, tipping his head back. “Fair point.”

Another silence stretches between you, this one lighter. Less heavy, more like… a pause between bullshit conversations.

Eventually, Touya flicks his cigarette out the window, watching the ember fizzle out. “…Y’know,” he mutters, “you didn’t have to pick me up.”

You shrug. “Yeah. But I did.”

He side-eyes you again, expression unreadable. Then he exhales sharply and shakes his head. “Idiot.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, smirking.

He groans, slouching further into his seat, but he doesn’t argue.

And that’s how you know he actually means thank you.

—

The smell of smoke still clung to the air, thick and acrid, curling in the space between you and Dabi… Touya. You didn’t even realize you were gripping your fists until your nails bit into your palms, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t breathe.

It made sense now. The way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he never really tried to kill you even when he had the chance. The pieces had been there all along, but now they were clicking together too fast, too loud.

And Dabi- no, Touya- was watching you like a cornered animal, all teeth and venom, muscles tight like he was ready to bolt or attack, whichever came first.

“Say something,” he muttered, voice rough. “You’re staring like a fucking idiot.”

Your throat was dry, words sticking to your tongue like glue. But then, finally—

“You’re Touya.”

His jaw twitched, fingers curling at his sides. “No shit.”

The sheer casualness of it nearly sent you over the edge. “No shit?” You took a step forward, shoving a hand through your hair. “That’s all you have to say? You.. You let me think you were just some guy this whole time”

“I am just some guy.”

“Don’t fucking do that,” you snapped. “You lied to me.”

Dabi let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Lied? Oh, that’s rich.” He took a step toward you, voice dropping into something low and mean. “You think I owe you the truth? That I was just gonna sit you down like, ‘Hey, by the way, I’m a walking family tragedy with daddy issues bigger than this whole fucking city’?” He sneered. “Be for fucking real.”

Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “I thought we—”

“What? Had something?” His grin was all sharp edges, nothing warm behind it. “Hate to break it to you, but that was your mistake.”

You felt something crack in your ribs, but you ignored it. “I trusted you.”

Dabi’s expression twisted into something ugly, something raw, but it was gone in an instant, swallowed up by that same defensive, sharp-toothed smirk. “Then you’re even dumber than I thought.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, hands trembling. “Why are you doing this?”

He scoffed. “Doing what? Telling you the truth?” He stepped closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, warning you to back off but you didn’t. “You wanna play hero so fucking bad, then act like one. Arrest me. Fight me. Do whatever the fuck your little code tells you to do.”

You clenched your jaw. “You’re pushing me away.”

“Good.”

That hit harder than it should have.

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. Dabi wasn’t looking at you anymore he was staring past you, at nothing, jaw tight like he was trying to hold back words that could shatter his teeth.

But you’d had enough.

You exhaled sharply and took a step back. “Fine.”

His head tilted slightly, but he didn’t move, didn’t react.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Guess I was wrong about you.”

Dabi let out a short, hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Guess you were.”

The city felt too loud. Even with the distant hum of sirens fading into the night, even with the crackling embers of the smoldering wreck behind you, the weight in your chest made it hard to hear anything else.

Touya—Dabi—was still standing there, arms crossed, head tilted just slightly like he was waiting for you to walk away. Like he expected you to.

And maybe you should.

Maybe you should turn on your heel, pretend like this conversation never happened, pretend like his words didn’t bruise, pretend like your chest wasn’t burning with something ugly and disappointed.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you took a breath. Steadier this time. Then another.

“Okay,” you said, voice quiet but firm. “I’m leaving.”

His shoulders barely shifted. “Yeah. Got that part.”

You ignored him. “But I’m not letting you do this.”

His jaw tensed. “Do what?”

“This.” You gestured at the space between you, at the sharp, jagged edges of this conversation, at the way he was standing like a kicked dog trying to pretend it didn’t hurt. “Pushing me away like it’ll fix anything.”

He scoffed, but it didn’t have the same bite. “And what, you think not pushing you away is a better idea? Think about it, genius. What do you actually want from me here?”

Your fingers curled at your sides. “I want the truth.”

Touya laughed. It wasn’t sharp this time wasn’t even mean. Just quiet. Exhausted.

“The truth?” He shook his head, looking past you again, somewhere far, far away. “I gave you the truth, and you didn’t like it.”

“You gave me a version of it,” you shot back. “The one that hurts the least for you.”

His expression flickered for half a second something too fast to catch, something that almost looked guilty. Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

“And?” he said, like he was daring you to argue. “That’s what people do.”

“No, it’s what you do.”

Silence.

For the first time since this started, Touya actually looked at you. Fully. His eyes were hard, unreadable, but you could feel the tension underneath it all.

He thought this was the last time you’d talk. Thought this was the final thread snapping between you, the moment where you’d finally decide he wasn’t worth the effort.

And maybe you should.

But instead, you exhaled, rubbing a hand down your face.

“Y’know what?” you muttered, stepping past him. “Forget it. Just forget it.”

And for a second, you thought that was it.

But then, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it—

“…I didn’t want you to know.”

You froze.

Turned back.

Touya was still standing in the same spot, still holding himself like his own body was a battlefield—but his fists were clenched, his head dipped just slightly, like this admission was something he hadn’t meant to say out loud.

He let out a breath, shaking his head. “You-” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “You were never supposed to know.”

Your heart twisted.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he took a slow step back, eyes flicking somewhere over your shoulder—like he was making sure you weren’t blocking his escape route.

You stared at him for a moment longer, waiting.

He didn’t say anything else.

Didn’t take it back. Didn’t try to fix it.

So you nodded, lips pressing into a tight line. “Okay.”

The city air was still thick with the scent of smoke, but the fire wasn’t the problem anymore. Not really.

You should leave. You should let this be what he wanted it to be one clean break, one final cut before you could crawl too deep under his skin.

But then he said it again.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Barely above a whisper. A confession that sounded like it had been ripped from his throat against his will.

You froze. Turned back.

Touya’s gaze flickered to you, but only for a second before he looked away, jaw locking.

You swallowed against the tightness in your chest. “Why?”

Nothing.

Not right away, at least. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fingers twitching at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them. Like he wanted to reach for something, maybe even you, but wouldn’t let himself.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Because you look at me like I’m-” He stopped himself, mouth pressing into a thin line.

You tilted your head, stepping closer. “Like you’re what?”

Touya scoffed, rubbing a hand down his face before running it through his hair, shoulders tensing. “Like I’m fixable.”

That knocked the air out of you.

“Touya…”

His fingers curled into fists, a sharp breath escaping through his teeth. “Don’t.”

But you couldn’t not. Not when he was standing there like this, when the usual cocky bravado had cracked just enough for you to see what was underneath.

“You think I’m trying to fix you?” you asked, voice softer now. “That’s not—” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “That’s not what this is.”

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Isn’t it?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I just- I care about you.”

His head snapped up at that, eyes narrowing like the words had physically hurt him.

You took another step closer, slow, careful, hands open at your sides like you were approaching something fragile. “You don’t have to push me away.”

His throat bobbed.

For a moment, just one, you thought he might actually let you close the distance. Thought he might let his shoulders drop, let you see him without all the fire and sharp edges.

But then he stepped back.

Not far. Just enough. Just enough to tell you what he couldn’t say out loud.

His head tilted slightly, like he was trying to keep his expression blank, but his voice betrayed him.

“I do have to.”

Your chest tightened. “Why?”

Touya’s jaw clenched, eyes darting away. “Because if I don’t—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “It’ll hurt more when you finally realize I’m not worth it.”

Something in you cracked.

You wanted to scream. Shake him. Make him understand.

Instead, you just let out a slow breath. “That’s not gonna happen.”

He huffed, a small, tired smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, well. We’ll see.”

The worst part was he truly believed that. He thought it was only a matter of time. That you’d come to your senses, see him for what he thought he was, and leave him behind before he could stop you.

And you could tell, deep down, that he was already bracing for it.

You hesitated for half a second before reaching out slowly, carefully and letting your fingers brush against his wrist. Just enough to feel the warmth of his skin, the faint, uneven texture of his scars.

His breath hitched.

Not a flinch. Not quite.

But he didn’t pull away.

Didn’t look at you either, though. Just stared at the ground, breathing unsteady, like he was trying to decide whether or not to bolt.

You squeezed, just slightly. “I’m still here.”

A pause.

Then, softer than anything you’d ever heard from him—

“…For now.”

And that? That was the closest he’d come to asking you to stay.

—

Dabi never liked to stick around after fights. He was a hit and run kind of guy burn what he wanted, say something snarky, and disappear before anyone could pin him down. But for some reason, he had been lingering more and more after your encounters. especially after how tense the last encounter everything had been weird. Yes you had found out he was Touya but he had also found out his current chase has been cozy with the thing he missed the most.

You weren’t sure why. You weren’t working together, you weren’t allies, but somehow, you kept running into each other. And somehow, neither of you had killed the other yet.

Tonight was another one of those nights.

You had spent the last half hour chasing him through an abandoned district, dodging fire and insults in equal measure. Eventually, it turned into a weird kind of truce he had gotten bored, you had gotten tired, and now you were sitting on a crumbling rooftop, catching your breath while he lit a cigarette.

He exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the night air. “You’re getting slower.”

You shot him a glare, still panting. “Or you’re getting faster.”

He snorted. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

You leaned back on your hands, staring up at the stars. “Y’know, for a guy who’s so dedicated to burning society to the ground, you sure do waste a lot of time chatting with me.”

Dabi hummed, tapping ash off the side of the building. “Maybe I like watching you get pissed off.”

“Oh, yeah, that definitely tracks.” You rolled your eyes, glancing at him. “So? What’s the next step in your grand villain plan?”

He smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You shrugged. “Eh. If it’s anything like your usual, I’m guessing ‘fire, explosions, and traumatizing civilians.’”

Dabi let out a low chuckle. “Not a bad guess.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, casually, you spoke.

“Had dinner with your sister again.”

You hadn’t looked at him when you said it, but you felt the way he tensed beside you.

It was subtle. So subtle that most people wouldn’t have noticed. But you had been around him enough now to catch the small things. The way his fingers twitched slightly against the cigarette, the brief pause in his breathing.

His voice was even when he responded, but there was an edge to it. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. She made this crazy good teriyaki chicken. Even got Hawks to shut up for a full five minutes.”

Dabi scoffed, taking another drag. “Miracle worker.”

“Right?” You smirked. “Shoto was there too. And Endeavor.”

Dabi’s expression immediately darkened at the name, his grip on the cigarette tightening. “Sounds like a real fun time.”

You ignored the bitterness in his tone. “It was something, that’s for sure.” You leaned forward slightly, resting your arms on your knees. “Y’know… she still talks about you.”

Dabi went completely still.

You kept your gaze ahead, pretending not to notice. “Not all the time. Just little things. The way you used to joke around when you were kids. How you’d always eat the last piece of tempura when nobody was looking.”

Dabi let out a short, humorless laugh. “She remembers that?”

“She remembers a lot,” you said, softer this time.

Another silence. Dabi stared at the horizon, jaw clenched. His cigarette burned between his fingers, the embers crackling in the quiet.

You watched him carefully. For all his arrogance, all his cruelty, there were cracks in the walls he had built. Moments like this, when you could almost see past the fire and spite when the boy he used to be bled through, just for a second.

But just as quickly, he shoved it down.

He flicked his cigarette away, standing up. “This was fun, hero. Let’s do it again sometime.”

You frowned, watching him. “That’s it? No snarky remark?”

Dabi gave you a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll make up for it next time.”

And before you could say anything else, he disappeared into the night.

But as you sat there, watching the last of the smoke fade into the sky, you couldn’t shake the feeling that for just a moment. he had hesitated.

—

You both sit there in the car, letting the last wisps of cigarette smoke curl out the windows. It’s quiet, save for the occasional rustling in the nearby bushes, which based on the location could either be a raccoon or someone plotting a murder. Either way, not your problem.

Touya exhales sharply, flicking his cigarette out the window. “So, what now?”

You glance at him. “What do you mean ‘what now’?”

“I mean, what the hell are we doing? You kidnapped me from rehab, bought me food, let me pollute my lungs in peace feels like there should be a next step in this weird-ass bonding experience.”

“You want a scrapbook?” You lean back against the seat, stretching. “Maybe a trophy? ‘Congratulations, you survived rehab and only complained about it 47 times!’”

Touya scoffs, side eyeing you. “That’s lowballing it. I complained at least 93 times.”

“Yeah, I stopped listening after the first 50.”

He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath before running a hand through his already messy hair. “Whatever. This whole thing is pointless.”

“Oh, my bad, I didn’t realize I was supposed to plan a grand Welcome Back to Society party,” you say, deadpan. “Should I have rented a clown? Gotten one of those shitty banners that say ‘You Did It!’ in Comic Sans?”

Touya huffs a laugh but quickly wipes it off his face, like he refuses to let you win even a little. “Yeah, I’d rather set myself on fire again than be subjected to that.”

You smirk. “Damn, next time I’ll actually do it, then.”

Another silence stretches between you, but it’s not comfortable. You can tell he’s restless, fidgety, like he’s trying to swallow down some actual feelings and it’s making him physically ill.

And sure enough—

“…I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.”

There it is. The actual problem.

You tap your fingers against the steering wheel. “What do you want to do?”

He gives you an exhausted look. “If I knew that, don’t you think I’d be doing it?”

“Hey, some people like being miserable. You’re one of them.”

“Fuck you.”

You grin. “There it is.”

He rolls his eyes and slouches further into his seat. “I’m serious, dumbass. Like… what now? What the hell am I supposed to do? Get some boring-ass job? Become a ‘functioning member of society’ or whatever bullshit they kept telling me in rehab? What if I just don’t?”

You shrug. “Then don’t.”

Touya blinks. “That’s it?”

“Yeah.” You throw him a look. “Did you want me to give you a whole therapy monologue? ‘You got this, king! Chase your dreams! Live, laugh, love!’”

He gags. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“There you go, then.”

He mutters something about you being insufferable under his breath before rubbing his face with both hands. “Ugh. Whatever. This whole thing sucks.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to being alive.” You stretch again, popping your back. “Anyway. Let’s go.”

Touya frowns. “Where?”

“I dunno. But if you’re gonna sit there having a melodramatic crisis about your future, we might as well do it while driving.”

He stares at you. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“You’re so fucking mean,” you shoot back, starting the car. “Buckle up, jackass.”

He groans but does it anyway, muttering complaints the entire time.

And with that, you pull out of the parking lot, heading absolutely nowhere by just you, a moody ex-arsonist, and a whole lot of sarcastic insults to get you through the night.