A Hawks Appreciation Post 💖💖💖

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 .ᐟ

synopsis: late nights + hunger = late night arguments abt food w the sillies (and other stuff)!!

chars: touya todoroki, keigo takami, tomura shigaraki

req? no >_< this brainrotted my mind 4 some reason

lil note: in touya's he's being rehabilitated (i want him HAPPY.)

t. todoroki

k. takami

t. shigaraki

my silly billies frfr😔

League of villain in a high school life💀

🕴️

Literally anything Touya smau 👀 I'm a crack addict with him I'm sorry 😭😭

🫐

im gonna use this as my opportunity to make frat boy touya since he wasn't in the other lineup HEHEH

owe me one // touya todoroki

Warnings: oral (f receiving), finger fucking, Dabi being Dabi, Tomura being Tomura

Synopsis: Shigaraki’s patience is tested when Dabi interrupts an intimate moment

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The night wrapped itself around the hideout, broken only by the faint hum of distant traffic and the sickly buzz of a flickering neon sign outside the window. The place wasn’t exactly cozy — it was dim, cluttered, and reeked faintly of cigarette smoke. 

Hours had slipped by unnoticed as you pored over scattered documents, papers that Tomura insisted needed attention. They weren’t critical — just another piece of the League’s never-ending puzzle — but you couldn’t deny that the tension in the air had nothing to do with logistics.

Shiagraki lounged on the worn couch, one arm draped over the back, his fingers idly brushing the frayed fabric as he watched you flip through one of the documents strewn on the coffee table.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” you pointed out, breaking the silence. You always read him too well, and it unnerved him more than he’d ever admit.

He didn’t answer right away, his crimson eyes lingered on you, settling a little too long on the curve of your neck where your shirt dipped just enough to tease. Finally, he shifted, leaning forward and propping his chin on his hand. “I’ve had a lot on my mind,” he muttered, his voice husky.

“League stuff?” you asked gently, stealing a quick glance at him from beneath your lashes.

He snorted, a humorless sound. “League stuff, you, the fact that half the world would love to see me dead. Take your pick.”

The honesty of his words caught you off guard. Slowly rising your head, you gave him a look.

Tomura wasn’t one for baring his thoughts unprompted. Usually, his feelings came out in fragmented bursts — rough, jagged pieces of himself that he let you see only when he couldn’t contain them anymore.

“I didn’t realize I made it to the list,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood, though your pulse quickened under his glance.

His gaze sharpened. “You’ve been on it since the day I met you, Y/N.”

There was something in the way he said it, a weight that made your heart stutter. Before you could respond, he stood abruptly, and crossing the room, he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, towering over your seated form. His hands with pinkies raised braced on either side of the chair, caging you in. “You don’t get it, do you?” he snorted, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re not just some passing thought. You’ve got me wrapped around your damn finger, and it’s infuriating, doll.”

“Tomura—” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he didn’t let you finish.

His lips crashed against yours, desperate and unrelenting, the kiss searing away any words you might have said. The document in your hand slipped to the floor, forgotten, as his fingers gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.

His chapped lips moved against yours with raw need, coaxing you to respond. 

Your hands found the front of his t-shirt, fisting the fabric as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours in a slow, passionate dance of desires.

He pulled you to your feet, his movements purposeful, guiding you backward until your calves hit the edge of the couch.

When he finally broke the kiss, his lips hovered a heartbeat away from yours, and his breath was warm against your skin. “Lie down,” he ordered dictatorially.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding. This was the common room — anyone could walk in at any moment, and yet, the risk only seemed to thicken the tension between the two of you. 

Before you could overthink it fully, Shigaraki’s lips brushed the shell of your ear, and his voice dropped lower. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

Slowly, you sank onto the couch, the worn-out cushions creaking softly beneath you. Your movements were unhurried as you leaned back, letting your body relax against the threadbare fabric. One hand drifted to your chest, fingers grazing over your cleavage in a languid motion, your eyes fixed on him, drinking in every detail of his sharp features you found super attractive.

Shigaraki’s lips curved into a wicked grin, a spark of boyish arrogance lighting up his sharp features. The man leaned forward, his tongue brushed over your lower lip, soft at first, before pressing harder, coaxing yours into a heated battle. Every motion was heated, like he was savoring you, tasting you as though he wanted to memorize every inch of your mouth. His hands mirrored the hunger in his kiss, sliding beneath your shirt. 

Tomura let out a low, mocking chuckle, his crimson eyes dark with amusement. “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. “I was wondering why your nipples were so easy to see through your shirt today. Turns out, you’re just a dirty little thing who decided to skip the bra, huh?”

When his fingers finally found the soft meat of your tits, rolling your nipples between them, a moan spilled from your lips.

He pulled back just enough for his lips to hover above yours, his ragged breaths mingling with your own. “I want to taste you,” he uttered, his voice low and rough, each syllable like a confession carved from stone.

Your body betrayed your answer before your lips could form the words, a shy nod trembling from you under the weight of his gaze. 

He slowly lowered his head, his lips capturing yours once more, deepening the kiss as his tongue danced with yours. But he didn’t stay there for long.

Kisses trailed down your jawline, slow and deliberate. When he reached the curve of your neck, his teeth grazed your skin just enough to draw a gasp, a smirk ghosting against your throat. His hands were careful, his pinkies hovering as he tugged the panties down your legs with agonizing slowness after reaching for them under the skirt you wore that day.

He knelt between your legs, his lean form coiled with tension. For a moment, he simply stared. The sight of your pussy was mesmerizing. “So pretty,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice thick with reverence. Tomura leaned in, his lips brushing over your clit in a featherlight kiss before trailing lower to place another around your entrance. His nose grazed your bundle of nerves as he breathed you in. He paused there, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating, rich feminine scent he adored more than he’d ever admit. Slowly, his tongue darted out, wetting his lips, his crimson eyes dark with hunger as he murmured lowly, “You drive me fucking crazy.”

Under normal circumstances, Shigaraki would’ve drawn it out. He’d have kissed his way down your stomach, lips lingering on your thighs, smirking as you squirmed beneath him, desperate for more. But that moment was different. The growing pressure in his pants, the unbearable tightness as his erection strained against the fabric, pushed him past his usual games. Without hesitation, he buried his face between your thighs, his hunger too consuming to wait, his lips and tongue already claiming you as though he needed you to breathe.

A moan escaped your parted lips.

Shigaraki ran his index finger up and down your slit. “You’re soaked,” he stated, his tone laced with satisfaction. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with amusement as he smirked. “And I’ve barely touched you, babe.”

Your cheeks were flushed at that moment and you made sure to spread your legs wider to grant him full access to your pussy.

His tongue dragged a slow, deliberate line from your entrance to your clit. Tomura’s tongue was moving fast as it circled your clit before dipping lower, tasting you like you were the most decadent thing he’d ever had. When his fingers joined the assault, sliding into your slick cunt, your back arched against the couch cushion. His digits curled upward, stroking that spot inside you that sent white-hot pleasure shooting through your body.

“Fuck, Tomura,” your voice was nothing but a pathetic whimper, your hand gripping the edge of the couch, your other hand slipping into his messy hair as your hips bucked against his face.

“You taste so good,” he rasped, his voice muffled as he buried his face deeper between your trembling thighs. His fingers quickened their pace, thrusting harder as his tongue focused on your swollen clit, flicking against the swollen bundle of nerves. Soon, it was replaced with his thumb that rubbed little circles around your clit.

Your body tensed, the coil of pleasure in your core tightening with every movement. “I’m— Oh God— I’m gonna—”

He alternated between broad, flat strokes of his flattened tongue and precise flicks of its tip, experimenting with the rhythm until he found the exact pace that had you gasping and gripping the couch beneath you. His lips wrapped around your clit as he sucked gently before letting his tongue glide over it again.

The coil snapped, and your orgasm consumed you entirely, ripping through your body with an intensity that left you trembling, moaning his name like a mantra. 

But he didn’t stop.

Even as your thighs quivered around his head, his tongue continued its relentless rhythm, his fingers curling and stroking your inner, velvety walls.

He withdrew his fingers slowly, the wet, obscene sound of them sliding out of your soaked pussy made your cheeks burn. 

Tomura’s lips curled into a wicked grin as he held his hand up, your creamy juices dripping down his scarred digits. Without breaking eye contact, he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick them clean, savoring every last drop like it was the finest thing he’d ever tasted.

Your breath hitched as you watched the show. Instinctively, your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, now dry from all the moans that left your mouth. 

When his fingers were clean, he didn’t pause to revel in your reaction. Instead, he lowered his head again, his tongue sweeping over your folds with deliberate slowness. He sucked your pussy lips into his mouth, his movements languid and unhurried, as if he were determined to clean every last trace of your cum. The obscene slurping sounds only heightened the ache pooling in your stomach again, and you whimpered.

“Well, well, well.” The raspy voice cut through the heavy air.

Your head turned sharply toward the sound, your breath catching in your throat when your eyes landed on Dabi. He was leaning against the bar, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, the rim tilted lazily toward his lips. His turquoise eyes gleamed with lust, a smug grin curling his lips as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

“What the hell do you want, Dabi?” Tomura growled, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue in a long, deliberate stroke from your entrance to your clit. His grip on your thighs tightened possessively, fingers flexing against your trembling flesh. “Can’t you see we’re kinda busy?”

Dabi chuckled, the sound low and dark, vibrating through the room. He tilted his head, feigning innocence as his gaze flicked back to you briefly before settling on Tomura. “Didn’t think you had it in you, boss,” he teased. “Didn’t know you even knew how to eat a girl out.”

Tomura paused, his tongue sweeping over you one last time before he kissed your slit and pulled back, crimson eyes narrowing as he straightened. His lips, glistening with your juices and swollen, twitched into a sardonic smirk. “And yet,” Shigaraki began, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he flicked his tongue over his lower lip, “I seem to be doing a better job than you ever could. I have a great technique. Jealous?”

Dabi snorted, his grin widening as he leaned casually against the counter, one brow quirking upward. “Please. You call that technique? It’s amateur hour.” He tilted his head, gesturing lazily toward you. “Bet she’s only half as satisfied as she pretends to be.”

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get out of here?” Tomura bit out, his voice low and venomous. “Or should I put that smart mouth of yours to better use and disintegrate it? I’d be doing everyone a favor.”

“I’m certain I could make her cum faster.”

Tomura’s snarl was immediate, his hand tightening on your thigh as he shot the other man a glare that could’ve set the room ablaze. “Touch her, and I’ll disintegrate that disgusting face of yours. Now, seriously, get lost before I decide to turn you into a pile of ash.”

Dabi laughed again, the sound fading as he turned back toward the bar. “Relax, boss.” Dabi barked another laugh, shaking his head as he pushed off the bar. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to it, boss. No need to lose your shit.” He turned, raising his glass in a parting salute. “Just make sure you don’t knock her up. The last thing I need is to play uncle Dabi to your bastard.” 

Tomura rolled his eyes, muttering a low curse under his breath as Dabi sauntered away. Shigaraki’s focus shifted back to you, his gaze softening just enough to send a thrill down your spine. “Ignore this idiot,” he murmured, lowering himself between your legs again. “Now, where were we? Ah, right... here.” His tongue darted out, tracing the path along your slit he left unfinished, his voice rumbling against your skin as he added, “You’re mine. And I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

@pixelcafe-network

The League of Villains planning their attack strategy is just Toga and Twice drawing a map of the area in crayon and Tomura and Spinner using legos they made to look like the league members to show them their positions— and they are dead serious about it the whole time while they all argue about the plans and keep moving the little lego figures around aggressively.

The hero is being inappropriate

TW: SMUT, SMOKING

Dabi sits on one of the chairs, feet rudely lifted on the table. His arms are folded behind his head and he has a cigarette hanging between his mismatched lips. A playful grin tugs at the staples of his face as he watches his girlfriend, you, lying on your back on the table and getting fucked by Shigaraki. He pants in pleasure while holding the hem of his shirt and observing his slick-coated cock slide in and out of your sloppy pussy. Well-toned abs visible, his pants hang loosely and belt jiggles as he slams into you.

The flame villain smirks. Such a sight wasn’t only because Dabi likes to watch you getting fucked, but also because due to overwork Shigaraki has been acting irritated and tense lately so this was Dabi’s way of offering some relief for his boss.

“Feeling better?“ Dabi asks before taking a draw from his cigarette.

Shigaraki leans his head back momentarily, “Fuck yeah,” he replies simply, pleasure toning his words. You keep moaning loudly with your brows furrowed, breasts bouncing back and forth in sync with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

Dabi then smirks and blows the smoke out of his nostrils while tapping the excess ash from his cigarette, “You know, you don’t need to be careful with her. She knows how to properly take dick so get as rough as you want with her.“

i had the most unhinged thought and raced to your inbox because i need this demon expelled from my body asap. hawks coming home from the worst day of patrol, everything went wrong and he had to speak up at a press conference, play the part of perfect, and all he wants is to melt into your touch. you can see it in his eyes, the dark circles, and the weary tilt of his smile. "baby bird," his voice is hoarse, "need you to hurt me tonight," so he can finally unravel. you're the only one he wants to be perfect for. okay goodbyeee 💀

𝐔𝐍𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐕𝐀𝐒

Pairing: Masochist! Hawks x Gn! Sadist! Reader

CW: face slapping, lots of blood, cock stepping, kicking, bruising, cock slapping, heavy degration, loss of air, mean reader, tons and tons of tears, scratching, mouth spitting, no mention of safe word but keep in mind it is there !!!

A/N: anon im sorry i totally changed ur thing, i just saw masochist hawks and sprinted. the demons wrote this, not me. dont look at me everyone. HEED THE TAGS

it was a way to blow off steam. something that he looks forward to, just some time where he doesn't have to think anymore. only feeling he has the stinging sensations and the tears that prick his eyes. it was an embaressing obsession he had. he loved pain.

Keigo walks to the bedroom, his hero costume tattered, and dark circles under his eyes. he is exhausted, but coming to you for your touch. pulling you close to him, and mumbling into your neck how bad he wants you to hurt him. till he bruises and bleeds. till every thought just disappears except for you.

and so you pull away, and slap him. it makes him tumble backward, and his yellow glasses fall off. he touches the tingling feeling on his face, blood spilling out from the skin caught on your wedding ring. you dont let up, sending another loud smack across his face, and this time he does fall to the ground, landing on his ass.

tears prick at his eyes, and he can feel his lip tear open. the taste of blood coats his mouth and he gulps, looking up at you for more.

he feels your foot jab onto his clothed cock and he keens, wincing up at you. "w-wait," he stutters, throwing his head back when your press even harder. "fuck!"

"wait? you want me to wait? after you begged for it like a dog?" he is squirming under you, tears now streaming down his face as you dig your foot into his pants.

"'m sorry. sorry—you are going to kill me!" he pleads, hands trying to dig themself into the carpet to fight back against the pain.

you sigh, and let up, instead using your foot to push at his chest, causing him to fall over and onto his back. "take off your clothes, Keigo," you mumble, taking a seat on the bed with crossed legs and staring down at him.

"okay. okay. I will. Just give me a minute!" he pants, tearing off his jacket and shirt as fast as he can. he knows something is coming, you werent playing nice.

you dont give him enough time, he reaches for his pants, and without hesitation you slam your foot into his stomach. he goes tumbling backwards and lands on his side, curling into a ball and panting. his eyes are wide and he is gripping onto his adomen. it surely will leave a huge bruise tomorrow. but thats not what he is worried about, he cant breathe.

"awww, did you get the wind knocked out of you? that's what happens when you move too slow," you tease, as you take in his appearance. he trembles in front of you, looking up at you in fear. tears drip down his cheeks and onto the ground, as he tries and fails to catch his breath.

you giggle at him, padding over to him. he flinches at the footsteps, bracing himself for another kick, but you just begin to unbutton his pants, pulling them down. "useless thing, arent you. cant follow any directions," you coo, now tearing off his boxers.

his cock springs out, tip red and leaking pre cum. "such a pervert! you sick fuck, keigo. who gets hard from getting beat?" you land another slap to his thigh, and his whole body jerks.

you smile at the red handprint, glancing back at him to see him beginning to drool. its coated red from the blood from his cheek and lip. he's is still heaving from the kick, eyes wide, and body gasping for oxygen.

"say Hawks do you get turned on when you are losing against villains? pop a boner like a freak for anyone who hits you?"

his eyes flash to you and he is shaking his head desperately. his words are breathless, "no. no. 'm not a freak!"

a quick, but harsh slap to his cock. he jumps again, globs of tears falling quicker. "fuckkkkk," he whimpers, shaking his head back and forth. his whole body shakes, and fingers dig into his own skin.

"you liar! do you want to be kicked again?"

"no no no no. im sorry. im sorry! im a freak. a pervert who likes to get hit. im sorry," he sobs, reaching for your ankle for comfort. you slap it away and he hisses, rubbing the back of it with a sniffle.

but you smile at him and lean over to sit on his chest. his head is still lolled to the side and his body racks with sobs. "shhhhhhh. so whiny Keigo. thanks for admitting it. my disgusting pervert. here, a reward."

you grab his face, hard enough to bruise, and force him to look up at you. his eyes are half shut in a wince, but he tries to force them open to look at you. you pry his mouth open, lean forward, and drop a glob of spit into his mouth.

he doesnt hesitate to swallow it, opening his mouth up again and sticking his tongue out to show you its gone. "th-thank you," he whimpers, and you smile fondly at him.

you hands trail up and down his down his body, sending vicicoius red raised scratchmarks along his pretty skin. "now, pervert....what should we do to this pretty canvas?"

he grins up at you, tears still dripping, and blood staining his cheeks and lips, but still stars in his eyes. "anything."

TAGS/WARNINGS: this fic will contain DARK CONTENT. MINORS DNI. AGELESS BLOGS DNI. reader and touya are childhood friends, kidnapping, reader does not consent to what touya’s doing, possessive/obsessive behavior, one-sided pain kink, no sex, no aftercare, hurt/no comfort,  this takes place after dabi broadcasts that he’s a todoroki, touya burns reader in multiple places, touya burns your clothes off, this is seriously fucked up content, this is not intended to be sexy or hot or anything like that, it’s literally just fully DARK CONTENT GENRE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT SUMMARY: touya intends to make you his—permanently. WORD COUNT: 1.4K 🦊’s A/N: whoa….. god help us all. this is my first seriously dark fic here and there will be plenty more to cum 💦

     “now—don’t be like that, doll,” dabi scolds you as he finishes tying off the rope at your ankles. currently, you were laying face down against the mattress, limbs pulled apart spread eagle style, blindfolded and terrified.

     when you were on your way home earlier tonight, you weren’t exactly expecting to be kidnapped in broad daylight. maybe it was your fault for taking that shortcut through that shadyass alley…. goddammit. now, you had no one to blame but your own dumb ass.

     what you weren’t aware of, however, was the fact that touya had been stalking you for weeks now—waiting for the perfect time to snatch you up. you see, he’d always had a bit of a crush on you since you were always there for him when you were children, someone whom he actively sought solace in. so, now that you were both adults and his feelings had time to simmer and intensify, he found himself thinking about you obsessively—he thought of you as something he just had to have; something akin to a doll he had to mark as his. and that’s exactly what he’d do.

     “please…. let me go!” you cry, tears dampening the cloth obstructing your vision. “i— i have — have to get home! i have people waiting for me!” you lie, wiggling around on the bed.

     he had taken you to some abandoned home—the family already dead and gone weeks ago, as touya had been planning this exact scenario for months now. and he finally has you exactly where he’s dreamt you’d be: struggling beneath him as he marks you as his permanently. 

     “that’s a lie and we both know that, sweets,” he spits out. “‘ve been watchin’ you for a while now, y’know…” suddenly his lips are right next to your ear, hot breath fanning over the shell of it as a chill runs down your spine. 

     “but, i’ll tell ya what: if y’can guess who i am, i’ll let you go free. sound good?” he proposes, meaning his words—he knows you’ll come crawling back to him once he’s through with you. you wouldn’t have any other choice, really!

     that being said, he activates his quirk on his hand and sets flame to the button down shirt you wore, and as a result, your bra as well, making you cry out painfully as the overwhelming heat consumes your upper body for a few long moments. …and then just like that, it’s gone and you’re left in just the stupid skirt you’d decided to wear today and your panties.

     now, with his quirk active on just his index finger, he brings it down to your naked lower back where he begins to spell out his name—his real name. 

     he did it tortuously slowly, though. taking his sweet time to make sure you could feel the stroke of each letter so that there would be no mistaking who he was.

     T…

     it’s all you can do to scream and bite down on the pillow by your head. the heat was beyond blistering, and you think you might pass out as he agonizingly traces the letters of his name.

     O…

     “jesus christ, owow–OW—OW–! fuck!” you scream-sob, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks from the searing pain as he mockingly praises you for being so brave. 

     U…

     suddenly, the realization of who he might be clicks amidst the pain, and it’s all you can do to cry; “t–touya!? b–but why?” 

     he doesn’t stop writing as he grins so widely, he pops a couple staples—the ones closest to his mouth—and continues spelling out his name before deciding to answer you.

     Y… A…

     perfect….. his handwriting wasn’t exactly the best, but it was undoubtedly his. just like you were.

     the last you’d seen him was on the news when he dropped the metaphorical bomb that was him being the eldest todoroki sibling. and before that? the night he supposedly “died.” so, not only was finding out he’s been alive this whole time a slap in the face, but now he has the audacity to kidnap and brand you? like you’re a piece of property!?

     “why?” he rasps out. “it’s pretty simple, really. …because you’re the only one who understands me—”

      “n–no! t– touya, this isn’t—” isn’t what? this isn’t him? this isn’t right? the touya you were once familiar with perished long ago and so had his morals.

     his hand comes down to strike against your ass with an awful, burning force, and you swear there’s an immediate handprint that forms. 

     your back arches instinctively, forcing your stomach firmly against the mattress, in attempt to escape his blazing touch, but touya doesn’t give you time to recover before he’s bringing the same hand down again, with just as much force and firepower as before, and you yelp loudly as you squirm against your restraints.

     “pl– please–! why me?”

     “i just told you—don’t tell me your memory’s that bad?” he quirks a brow up at 

      it’s true that you’d had a crush on the man now known as dabi back in your youth, but that crush died when touya did, forcing you to mourn both him and the feelings you harbored towards him. and now he comes back from the dead like nothing? did he even try to seek you out in all this time? 

     he had, actually, at multiple points; little “check ins”of sorts, if you will. observing from a distance, too scared to reach out.

     “n–no! ‘s’not! i just—! ow! fuck! touya, please!” 

     “you what?” he snaps, spanking your other asscheek this time.

     “fuck! ow–! touya, please! please!”

     his hand comes down again, harder and hotter than before and you bite your tongue so hard it starts to bleed, filling your mouth with an almost sickening coppery taste. rather than swallow it, you spit it out onto the bed, as far away from your face as you can manage, and touya laughs at the pathetic sight. 

     “you poor thing,” he coos mockingly. “maybe i should’ve given you something to bite down on—...oh well, it’s too late now,” he laughs cruelly as another idea comes to mind. next, he thinks he’ll carve the characters of his name into your back, rather than just the romaji writing, and right between your shoulder blades at that. 

     “t–tou—touya, i—” you swallow thickly, unable to think of anything but the pain, or if you’d ever get to go home again after this. part of you almost wishes he would just kill you so you wouldn’t have to live with this mark of him for the remainder of your life.  

     “you—” he cuts you off, “are not going to like what happens next.” there’s an inflection of sorts in his voice—he sounds… like he found humor in his own words, like whatever was about to happen next would be funny. 

     he sets flame to his pointer finger again and brings the searing digit down against your flesh, and the smell that arises as he carefully takes his time with each stroke of the characters needed to spell his name—even going as far as to use his former surname todoroki in the spelling, just to make it that much more agonizing for you.

     轟。。。

     you wail and bite onto the pillow, staining it with your blood, as touya burns your flesh for his own entertainment.

     燈。。。

     矢。。。

     there. now he could be done with you until you inevitably decided to seek him out—too embarrassed and full of shame to continue living amongst normal citizens; after all, being branded by a well-known villain and then being set free into society like it never even happened is sure to take a toll on one’s mind. 

     what are you gonna do? call the police? tell a pro? show them your new scars as evidence? the idea is laughable. 

     “there—we’re all done,” he says, leaning over your trembling form to burn the ropes binding your trembling form to the bed, quickly followed by the ones tied around your ankles. “i’m a man of my word, so you’re free to go,” he says with a deviant, slightly crooked smirk. 

     rather than immediately booking it, you curl up tightly into a ball as your body’s wracked with heavy, heaving sobs, processing the physical and mental pain as touya just chuckles at your pathetic self, getting up from the bed and putting his hands in his pockets.

     “well, see ya around,” he says, walking off as if he didn’t have a care in the world, leaving you to cope with your situation and what happens next.

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