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Touya - Blog Posts
Bully
Bully!Dabi x F!Reader Series
Warnings: +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! This series contains: HEAVY Noncon, smut, bullying, manhandling, penetration, binding, threatening, creampie, breeding kink degradation, humiliation, abuse, violence, anxiety, spoilers, trauma, bruises, choking, spit play, cussing, dirty talk, oral sex (m.receiving) cum swallowing, semi public, noncon selfie, mention of alcohol, manipulation
Summary: After joining the League of Villains, you started facing bullying from a certain arsonist. Little by little the harassment grew to the point of physical violence that culminated to you being his personal fucktoy.
A.N.: If there’s any warnings missing, please let me know!
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned belong to Kohei Horikoshi
Part 1.
Part 2.
Part 3.
Part 4.
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
BETRAYAL
a/n: happy (belated) birthday my burnt chicken nugget. also @ninjamomo is my personal hype-woman so thank her for this too, thank you
warnings: prohero!reader; literal m*rder; major character death; dabi’s real name; choking; violence; swearing; 4k of angst
“i should have seen this coming,” dabi snarled, his black boot pressing onto your chest as he towered over you, hands in his pockets, “i should’ve known”
you stared up at his dark figure, eyes narrowing at him. the damp ground underneath you was cold, you could feel your clothes absorbing some of the water, sticking against your skin. pebbles pressed against your back, the weight of the villains foot drove them deeper into your body with every passing second.
“any last words, hero?”
you couldn’t see how he had his fists clenched, fingernails digging deep into his skin. he looked at you with hatred, disgust — a look you knew he would send you sooner or later and yet hurt so much.
would he believe you if you said you didn’t want this? would he believe you if you said you never wanted it to be like this? would he believe any word that would hush over your busted lip anymore?
“you don’t have to do this,” you replied calmly, completely contradicting your irregular heartbeat and pressed breaths.
you looked up at his hunched form, his jacket flowing due to the slight wind in the alley. dabi held his head high, his eyes looking at you with disgust and hate.
it has always been only a matter of time until you‘d be subjected to this look of his — a look that was reserved for his enemies and everybody else that would even dare to stand in his way. it was inevitable, obvious that one day you‘d be on the receiving end, you had told yourself this the moment you first came in contact with him. dabi was a villain, a threat to society, a threat to every person that was just peacefully living their life. he was your enemy.
you couldn’t die here. you had a responsibility, a duty to protect the people of this town, this country.
and yet you failed, disappointing everyone in the process. your colleagues, the commission, the civilians. your friends, your family.
“maybe i don’t. but i fucking want to,” the villain huffed through his clenched teeth, putting more of his bodyweight onto your chest, making you wince in pain, “theres nothing i want more than to see you cry out in pain, begging for me to make it stop. to put you out of your misery”
you should have never agreed to this mission, not like you had a choice anyways; not like you would’ve declined anyways. they needed you and who were you to turn your back on them?
looking back, you maybe should have. maybe then you wouldn’t be here with an infamous villain threatening you — killing you. you wouldn’t leave anybody behind, you wouldn’t have violated your duty and you wouldn’t have betrayed your colleagues and your cause.
you wouldn’t have played with the thought to turn your back on them.
how did it get this far?
the weight on your chest lifted and you greedily sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with air. yet before you could take in another, you were forcibly grabbed by the shoulders and pulled up, your back soon crashing into a brick wall. you pressed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to not wince in pain.
“maybe i should just set you on fire right here, right now,” dabi continued, one hand on your throat as he stretched the other one out dramatically, “do you think your little hero friend would manage to save you in time?”
you clenched your jaw, hands weakly pulling on the one on your throat.
he turned back to you, his second hand now also closing around your throat, pushing you further into the cold wall, a sadistic smile on his lips. “he’s supposed to be the fastest one after all, isn’t he?”
you kept quiet however, only struggling against the villain‘s hold. you could feel his hands heating up on your skin, eyes slightly widening when you felt the rise in temperature.
“i’m curious”
how could you let it get so far? how could you allow yourself to fall so deep, to betray everyone and mostly betray yourself? and how were you even supposed to live with yourself after this — if you somehow managed to get out of this hopeless situation, that is.
“then kill me. kill me right now and find out,” you managed to reply, keeping your eyes on his face. you knew that you had no way of possibly getting out of this. dabi knew what you did, he knew who you were and he knew why you were with the league, with him. and no matter what, there was no way dabi would forgive you for this.
yet you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping that he would.
the villain tilted his head, his heated hands cooling down. he scoffed. “so willing to die after all?”
no. yes. maybe. you weren’t sure.
no, you didn’t want to die. but could you live on like this, knowing what you did, knowing what you had thought? could you continue your life like this, mentally trying to convince yourself that you did the right thing, that you did what you had to, that no matter what, you did your duty and your duty as a hero came first. waking up every morning to the blank ceiling in your home, your blanket wrapped around your legs, as you tried to believe the mantra you repeated to yourself every day.
how could you stay a hero, smiling at clueless civilians, saving them from villains, knowing that you were no better? knowing that you had considered leaving your hero self behind, leaving your entire life behind? knowing how your entire life you romanticized a flawed and corrupt system and even chose to become a part of it?
but did any of this even matter? at the end of the day, it wasn’t your choice, wasn’t it? your life laid in the hands of the villain in front of you whose hands were literally on your throat.
you closed your eyes in resignation. maybe it was for the best, you thought, slowly coming to terms with your reality. was this your punishment for betraying your morals? “if you could do me one last favor? do it quick”
dabi slightly furrowed his eyebrows. he didn’t want to admit it, but this was the first time he had seen you so passive. it wasn’t like you to not fight, to not yell, to act so defeated. where was your fire, your passion? how dare you not fight back? how dare you be so dejected? you were supposed to give him everything you got, you were supposed to show him just why and how you became a hero, you were supposed to protect yourself and defend yourself, your honor, your pride? how dare you to give him nothing?
how dare you to betray him for nothing?
“give me one reason why i should” dabi clicked his tongue, squeezing your throat. “one fucking reason”
he wanted to hear you plead, beg for your life. give him any reason, your duty, your family, friends, anything and he wouldn’t care. he wanted you to be hopeful, he might even play along and consider allowing you to walk away with severe injuries but still alive. he wanted to see the hope rise in your eyes before he would crush it with his own hands.
you should feel hurt, hopeless, betrayed.
however, what you said, caught dabi by surprise. “you love me,” you stated calmly, eyes piercing through his turquoise ones.
you don’t know what you expected, you don’t even know why you said it. after all, you embodied the very thing he despised more than anything, the one thing he swore to destroy. a shiny hero, adored by the public, that is nothing more than a cruel puppet, willing to do anything to bring the very same people down, that the system you protected with your life, failed to save.
disgusting. why would he love you?
“i don’t,” the villain shot back immediately, voice filled with fury. bringing his head next to yours, you could feel his warm breath on your ear as he continued. “i never did,” he spat angrily.
there was something about him that made you question him. the way his eye twitched, how he pressed his teeth together, how his grip on you tightened, pressing you hard against the concrete wall, like he wanted to bury you inside of it.
“i don’t believe you,” you managed to choke out, shaking in his hold. in return, dabi narrowed his eyes at you, before throwing his head back and erupting in chaotic laughter.
“since when do heroes believe villains anyway? all we do is lie and betray,” he proclaimed, one of his hands letting go of your throat as he gestured into the empty alley, like he was on a stage, reciting a dramatic monologue.
after a few seconds dabi huffed and turned back to you, his lips curled into a sadistic smile, his eyes cold. “didn’t know a hero had it in them too,” he mocked you.
“you’ve lied a lot in your life, touya,” you stated, your words coming out pressed and barely audible as you gasped for air.
“but you can’t lie to me”
dabi — touya — was a lot. a criminal, a villain, a murderer, you knew that. just like he said, he was a liar too. he lied to get his way, he lied to lure people in and he lied just for the fun of it, just because he could. he lied to you too. he tried to put you on the wrong track, he lied to conceal the league’s plans from you because he didn’t trust you when you met, he lied just to annoy you.
but dabi forgot that after all the months you have spend together, you got to knew him and his habits. you inevitably grew closer, talked more and dare you even say understood each other‘s mannerisms. as much as he hated to admit it, you knew him just as well as he knew you.
“i always lie, to everyone,” the villain claimed boldly, the cold smile still on his lips. he sounded so condescending as he continued to mock you. “surely you’re not so arrogant to think that you’re an exception”
how dare you tell him that you know him? how dare you tell him that you don’t believe him? you lied, deceived, so why would you think he wouldn’t do the same?
“i’m going to fucking enjoy this”
“what’s there to enjoy”
much to your surprise, a laugh erupted from dabi.
“i wanted to kill you the moment you were brought to us,” he claimed, face inching closer to yours as he placed his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his palm sending shivers down your back. dabi hummed. “see the life drain out of your eyes and hear you scream like the pathetic thing you are”
“but you didn’t,” you replied stiffly, staring at the villain in front of you. his breath was hot on your lips, he was close, way too close given the situation you were in.
but you knew this look, you were familiar with how his scars looked up close, his triple pierced nostril and every patch of burned skin on his flesh.
“i didn’t,” he confirmed, nodding slightly. he ripped himself away from you right after, eyes narrowing again as he examined your face. the cold air hit you immediately, you felt like your cheeks were burning. “but no one can stop me now”
you tried to take a deep breath again, holding your chin high, trying your best to stand your ground. “then get it over with”
and again he laughed, his voice booming through the dark alley.
“why? i should drag this out, shouldn’t i?” he asked rhetorically, his mind already made up.
dabi wanted you like this. resigned, afraid, hopeless, at his mercy. looking at him with watchful eyes, over-analyzing every movement, no matter how small, and bracing yourself for the moment he would strike. you looked like a cornered animal, completely helpless. pathetic.
“a pro hero, right here, just willing to die by my hands. what a sight for sore eyes”
he smirked, inching his face closer to you again, only stopping when you could feel his hot breath on your ear. “that’s not something i get to enjoy every day”
“you’re torturing yourself”
dabi hummed again, much to your surprise even nodding his head slightly at your statement before shrugging. “who cares? nothing will satisfy me more than to kill you myself”
“then do it!” you screamed back, resisting against his hold of you again, only to earn a raised brow from the villain.
you knew he wouldn’t let you go, no matter what you were to say. threats, promises, nothing could persuade him. you were mere minutes away from death and nothing in your power could stop it from happening.
no one could stop it and no one would come to save you.
“go on. kill me. leave me here to rot for all i care. but when i‘m gone, there will be no one left who ever loved you“
from the very first moment you saw him, you knew who he was and what he had done, obviously you did. you had every piece of information available on every member of the league that you knew of. you knew their stories.
but him?
dabi was a blank space, a mystery. it was like he had just appeared one day, desperate to cause chaos and destruction wherever he went. and as much as you hated to admit it, that was what was so interesting about him, what almost drew you in. you wanted to know more, you needed to know more. what could make a person drive to kill innocents with seemingly no motive, haunt the streets of the city at night, causing panic wherever he went just because he could?
it wasn’t easy to find out more about him — mostly because nobody, not even the people that called themselves his friends, knew anything. he was a closed and locked book, nobody having the key to even read one page of him.
“shut up,” he shouted back, violently pushing you against the wall again. your head began to spin at the impact, vision flooding with a few tears before it cleared again. “shut the fuck up”
you didn’t know how you actually got closer to him and you certainly didn’t know why he decided to open up to you. was it some form of bait? was it genuine? at this point, you weren’t sure what you would prefer.
if it was nothing more than bait, trying to make you feel safe around him, trying to lure you in, you had to accept that the villain managed just that. he pulled you in and dragged you down, just like he had planned.
but what if it was genuine? what if he confided in you because he trusted you, because he believed that even though you were his enemy, something was different? that somehow you could leave this behind, that it didn’t matter and that you were someone he could trust. someone that wouldn’t ever betray him.
but at the end, you did. at heart, you were a hero after all, the commission‘s puppet, willing to protect the fragile legs your system stood on — not caring if you hurt people in the process and certainly not caring about the ones your system kicked away like trash.
all you knew was that he told you. he told you of the little boy touya. he told you of his family, his father. he told you about the shoes touya had to fill and how at the end it was so easy to just toss him aside.
and you comforted him, as much as you could. you showed sympathy and you felt pity. pity for the boy that wanted to become a hero more than anything, the boy that was turned away. a boy that was hurt so deeply that he had nothing left anymore.
“no one, touya”
what kind of person were you to exploit this very part of him?
“don’t call me that,” he demanded immediately, expression changing to one full of anger. there was no touya.
“that’s your name,” you only stated.
what were you trying to do? trying to appeal in the hopeful and ambitious boy inside of him? were you seriously hoping that this would change anything?
“touya died the day dabi was born,” the villain claimed loudly, eyes shut tightly as he spoke.
there was no more touya. touya died on a hill, leaving his childish dreams of being a hero and proving himself behind. dabi was all that mattered now. he found a new purpose, a goal in him and he would allow nothing and no one to stand in his way.
“i don’t believe you”
“i don’t care,” dabi spat back immediately, voice still booming as his palm heated up against your throat, your eyes widening when you felt the rapid rise in temperature, squirming in his hold. “it means jack shit to me”
you could hear how shallow his breathing was, how he tried to regain control of himself. slowly but surely his palm cooled down again.
“just like you” his eyes scanned your face again, narrowing slightly.
“hero” you knew of his, and frankly, the league‘s, distaste for you and your fellow heroes. the supposed protectors of society, yet the ones that cause the rise of villains in the first place. you saw how they rolled their eyes whenever someone even dared to mention a hero name, how their jaw clenched and how they loudly proclaimed that heroes were the true villains. but this was the first time that dabi had spat your profession, your cause, your entire being right at your feet.
“what are you waiting for?” you asked again, trying to ignore how heavy your chest felt.
the villain clicked his tongue and shook his head. “i’m surprised you care so little about your own life,” he said sighing. “aren’t you supposed to fight till the end?”
wasn’t this already the end? what was left for you to fight for? and even if you did, even if by some wonder you managed to escape what would you do? how could you return knowing you had betrayed everything you ever stood for?
“scared to kill me after all?”
and again, dabi shook his head, looking at you almost like he was about to claim that you didn’t know him like you claimed to after all. “scared?” he repeated, tilting his head. “i’m practically dying to see you go up in flames”
with a sadistic smile on his lips he looked around, eyes halting when he looked above you, analyzing the terrible state the building was in. “who knows, maybe i’ll set the house on fire too”
“you’re cruel,” you spat, shaking in his hold again.
dabi wasn’t surprised to see you attempting to fight back, even though you knew the fight was lost. a true hero at heart after all, willing to do everything in their power and even more to protect innocent civilians.
“and yet you love me,” he stated, eyes turning back to you. “now tell me, isn’t that cruel too? loving a ruthless murderer?”
it was. you hated it and you hated yourself for it. he was a villain, a murderer just like he said, someone who actively fought against everything you stood for, someone who was about to kill you and yet you loved him.
“you’re pathetic,” dabi spat, throwing your weak body onto the ground. you groaned when you collided with the wet asphalt, pain shooting through your every limb. your chest moved fast with every shallow breath you took, trying to regain your composure and clearing your clouded senses.
meanwhile dabi crouched down beside you, feigning sympathy at your pained expression. he reached out, his fingers softly caressing your cheek before gripping your chin harshly and forcing you to look at him.
“guess that is goodbye,” he sighed, purposefully giving you a sad look, before a smirk adorned his dry lips. igniting the palm of his hand he pointed it towards you. “after all, i never liked it when anybody interrupted us during our fun times”
the villain stood up, looking down at you with a cold expression, his earlier smile nowhere in sight. “burn in hell, hero”
you closed your eyes for just a second, silently apologizing for the things you‘ve done and the things you failed to do.
you apologized to your friends and family for leaving them behind like this, knowing the only closure that they were going to get was that you were murdered in an alleyway, supposedly by none other than the infamous dabi.
you apologized to your fellow heroes, because you knew how hard it could be to lose another hero, a colleague, a friend.
you apologized to hawks for compromising not just your but also his image with the league, effectively ending his cover and endangering your mission.
you apologized the hero commission, disappointed in yourself for failing them.
you apologized to touya for hurting him, betraying him. you never wanted for it to get this far.
you apologized to everyone because no matter how you looked at it, you betrayed them — hero or villain.
and lastly, you apologized to yourself, wanting nothing more than being able to forgive yourself for your inner chaos.
and yet, you couldn’t help but just wonder about how things might have been if you hadn’t agreed to this. you could have prevented so much pain on every side, so much distrust, so much hurt, so many lies.
you wouldn’t have forgotten who you were, what you stood for and what your duty was. you wouldn’t even have considered not only retiring as a hero, but going underground, fleeing from every promise you ever made, escaping from your duty. and if all of this wasn’t enough, you weren’t even ashamed to admit that you wanted to to it with a villain.
leaving this society behind, leaving everything behind that made you who you were to live out the rest of your days with a person that was the embodiment of everything that was wrong with the system you protected.
“i’ll wait for you, touya”
shortly after, dabi turned his back to the now charred body on the dirty floor, closing his eyes as he lazily walked away. kicking a pebble away with force, he hushed around a corner, disappearing into the shadows as he heard the first terrified scream from the poor soul that came across what used to be a beloved pro hero.
the image of you smiling as you spoke his last words to him clouded his mind, not allowing him to think about anything else but you.
you betrayed the league, you betrayed him. you used him. you lied to him.
the villain huffed in disgust, clicking his tongue. of course he was happy that you wouldn’t be there to bother him anymore. you couldn’t lie to him anymore, you couldn’t use him anymore.
you couldn’t hurt him anymore.
dabi was glad that you were gone — dead — and he was more than elated that he was there to see you as your life force burned away. after all, you were nothing but a way to get information, a puppet he could use to achieve his dream one day. you were part of a corrupt system, a willing participant, that used their shiny imagine to lure people in and prevent them from seeing what a bunch of hypocrites was actually hiding behind it.
only a dead hero was a good hero.
the sound of dabi‘s fist clashing with the tough concrete wall disrupted the comfortable silence he was walking in. with dull eyes the villain looked at his bruised knuckles, his already bloodied skin now turning even darker.
but why did you have to be a hero?
reblogs are appreciated
Resistance
Summary: Dabi returns to retrieve the sweatshirt he mistakenly left in your apartment,
Genre: angst with comfort, fluff
CW: mentions of sex, mentions of choking, cursing (?), Dabi is in denial about his feelings (surprise, surprise), smoking
Word Count: 1,126
Pairing: Dabi x gender-neutral reader
Dabi falls for you slowly, dragging his feet as his heart leads him back to you time and time again, despite how he protests.
And protest he does. Forces himself to stay away for weeks at a time, forces himself to avoid your part of town, just in case he can’t resist the pull of your smile.
But inevitably, he gets a little too high, a little too drunk, and he finds himself tapping that soft pattern on your window. It’s suspiciously close to the melody of the song playing when he first kissed you, laying in the middle of your living room all those months ago, but you’d never dare to ask.
Everytime he gives in is the same, whether he’s drunk or sober, with lots of whispered apologies and confessions of how he missed you. He pretends not to care what the answer is when he asks if he can kiss you, and you never fail to see the way his eyes light up when you tell him yes.
For a while, things will return to normal, where he’ll sneak in late at night, hold you in ways no other man has ever been allowed to. It’s sweaty skin pressed together, dark strands sticking to your face when he presses his forehead against yours, and whispered praises against your throat right next to his palm circling it.
And then one morning, he’ll be gone again, without a trace. It’s comfortable for him, leaving like a ghost. He’s sure it’ll make things easier when he inevitably leaves for good.
Except he’s bound to make a mistake eventually. He just wishes it’s not in the form of his favorite sweatshirt left crumpled on your couch where he’d let you tug it off him, hands slipping over his skin.
For a week straight, he debates leaving it, but eventually decides there’s no reason he can’t sneak in and take it back, missing its warmth and the anonymity it provided when he went out.
He waits until the light shuts off behind your curtains, smoke billowing from his lips as he sits on the rooftop edge of the building across from your apartment, mentally mapping out the location of your furniture so he can slip in and slip out quickly in the dark.
Your living room window is unlocked like usual when he tries it, and he shakes his head in disapproval, muttering under his breath about all the trouble you could invite into your life with your bad habits.
The irony isn’t lost on him, but he swallows the guilt quickly before it can overwhelm him and convince him to see you, opting to search your living room instead.
He’s frustrated to find it’s not in the exact spot he left it, but not surprised, given how much time has passed. He’s silent as he creeps along the hall to your room, the door open as if you knew he’d be coming by.
Or maybe just hoping.
The light from the city washes you in a white haze, and he’s surprised to see you curled up into yourself rather than sprawled out like usual, your hands tucked in close to your face.
He risks a closer look, eyes scanning over your sleeping form, and surprise ripples through him when he finally realizes you’re wrapped in his sweatshirt, the black material baggy on you.
He sucks in a breath at the sight, feet shuffling closer until he’s standing directly over you, and it’s only then that he notices the tear tracks that streak down your cheeks, and the way your brows are furrowed unhappily even in sleep.
He feels a pang in his chest as he wonders if this is because of him, if this is his affect on your life. He wants to be able to shrug and leave, wants to roll his eyes and huff at you for being so emotional, but he can’t bring himself to pretend.
Instead, he crouches down to eye level with you, resting his arm on the edge of the bed as his chin settles on it. He watches you for a moment, the way your breath puffs out between your lips, the way your frown seems to deepen occasionally and you press deeper against the material of his clothes.
Finally, he can’t take it anymore, and he lifts his other hand, knuckles running lightly over the swell of your cheek. You’ve never been a light sleeper, but it doesn’t take long before your eyes are fluttering open and you’re peering at him in confusion.
“Dabi?” Your voice is low, and emptier than he can ever recall it being in his presence.
His lips purse for a moment before he gives a simple nod, knuckles continuing to smooth over your skin, a feeble attempt to wipe away tears that have long since dried. “Hey, doll.”
You stare at him for a moment longer, blinking slowly, as if you’re sure the next time you open your eyes, he’ll be gone. But he isn’t.
“Seems like you’ve had a rough day.” he comments quietly, and your eyes widen almost imperceptibly for a moment before they’re closing tightly and you’re leaning into his touch, fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep him there.
Your lip press into a tight line, and all you do is nod once, tilting your head to press your lips against his pulse. He hopes you can’t feel it jump under your mouth, pulling away gently so he can stand once more, leaning over to press a gentle kiss into the crown of your head.
You glance up at him sadly, disappointment flooding your gaze as you wait for him to leave again, brows drawn low on confusion when he moves to take off his shoes instead.
His shirt goes next, hooking his thumbs into the collar and tugging it over his head before throwing it somewhere in the dark. He pauses then, second guessing himself as he runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up in odd angles.
But the way you’re watching him has him softening, jerking his chin towards the center of the bed as his knee sinks into the mattress net to you. “Scoot, I’m not letting you shove me off again,” he grumbles, but there’s no malice in his words.
If anything, he’s glad you can’t see the way his face heats in the dark over how he lets affection bleed into timbre of his voice when he next speaks, sinking into the softness of your bed as he pulls you into his chest.
“Missed you.”
A Burnt Rose (Complete)
✿ You and Touya parted on bad terms. Six years later, he spots you visiting his father, a red-headed kid in tow. He’s determined to find out what you’ve been up to while he’s been gone.
Touya x Fem!Reader ✿ Single parent
Updated Tuesdays and Fridays, any times indicated are in PST
Overall themes of angst. If you’ve read any of my other work, angst with a happy ending is my usual MO. Warnings marked at the beginning of applicable chapters: violence, child loss, implied drug use
⁕ Chapter 0 (Prequel)
⁕ Chapter 1
⁕ Chapter 2
⁕ Chapter 3
⁕ Chapter 4
⁕ Chapter 4.5
⁕ Chapter 5
⁕ Chapter 6
⁕ Chapter 7
⁕ Chapter 8
⁕ Chapter 9
⁕ Chapter 10
⁕ Chapter 11 (Epilogue)
Tag list: @mmmochi-art @jems-all-in-a-wood @boosyboo9206 @dani-d0rk @kunaigirlx44 @myriadis @northsideprincess @cutiebear45 @prettypuppy1563 @fandomsgotmefucked @txixy @whore-for-anime @isabel2you @haitanihime @callmelucas @askerror87 @devilsbooksworld @mikasackrmann @xnorthstar3x @undefined--person @bubblegum-bee-otch @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that @eijis-stuff @cinnamon-n-roses @theequeenofcurses @bananasquash @aizawasfemdom @cascade-away @dabi-sunflower
BASEBALL
print available https://kadeart.bigcartel.com/product/bnha-bnha-postcard-set
Capa para a fanfic “Soldado Ferido” escrito por Sakurh para a seção de Boku no Hero. Fanfic com foco em vários ships, e que como podem ver pela capa e pelo nome, SIM TEM MORTE GENTE NÃO É NOVIDADE OQUEI? -QQ E sim, a capa tem dois modelos porque sou extremamente indecisa quanto a cores :>
Se inspire! Não copie! Créditos à BeaPanda pelo modelo disponibilizado para a manip do Katsuki, créditos também aos donos de todos os recursos utilizados como textures e psd’s.
A Theory about Shouto's and Touya's birthdays
I've been thinking again about the meaning of Shouto's and Touya's birthdays. What if Shouto's birthday is 111 because it's like the winning combo on a slot machine (getting three ones is a particularly good sign in light of Endeavor's aim to raise a son to be No 1) and Touya's birthday is 118 because he's only "almost perfect"?
And then I did some further research, and sure enough, the in the 18 in Touya's birthday the kanji for 1: 一 (ichi) and 8: 八 (hachi) can be found in the following Japanese gambling phrase:
一か八か = ichi ka bachi ka, “one or nothing”, or literally “one or punishment” - i.e.: a high risk gamble or something like "go for broke".
As in the phrase:
一いちか八ばちかやってみよう。
Ichikabachika yatte miyō.
I’ll take my chances.
So now I'm 99% convinced that Shouto's and Touya's birthdays are a refence to Endeavor gambling with the kids as if they were prizes in a pachinko slot machines / was playing child gacha?
(Also - Hori's sick sense of humour)
