Uhh angsty stuff, also I am not a good writer here so apologies for any mistakes.:
Malachi was devoted or obsessed with Amphinomus because he wasn't like the rest of the suitors who were arrogant and greedy nobles. Malachi declaring whether silently or directly is indebted of his life to Amphinomus, the man whom he owes his life for and because he thinks the Dulichium Suitor gave him hope that maybe Malachi could save him and etc.
The fact Amphinomus remembers Malachi, his childhood friend, 'brother' in arms, and etc. Malachi having false hope that Amphinomus wouldn't become like the others, placing his loyalty for Amphinomus, as the highest priority next to Penelope and Telemachus.
Only for that to shatter him when he found out the truth of Amphinomus' family. His basque grandfather was the tormentor of his family. Whom Malachi spent years hunting down for revenge, hungrily, and angrily and to make the last remaining descendant of the same grandfather who made his family suffer pay. Amphinomus being unaware, shocked to learn about it.
Malachi couldn't bear to kill Amphinomus, instead drops the knife. He yelled at Amphinomus to leave this palace, go somewhere safe.
Amphinomus looks at him gently and says "Why won't you come with me too? Here you are wretched enough. I owe you not just gratitude, but my life too. Come with me, where we live somewhere in peace.”
It tempted Malachi to go with him, the voice that urged him to be in his arms.. but he already made a choice and so he tells the prince. "I cannot, for I have loved this island and bear my misfortunes for it, so I will die to this.. You must go, save yourself..”
"Malachi-”
"Go my Lord! You are wasting time!"
After saying that, Malachi didn't waste time, he gently grabbed Amphinomus' hand, lifted it and held it. Then, he placed it onto his lips, kissing it passionately with mixed reverence. As if he is a soldier kissing a glorified God's hand before going to war. His black eyes meet green trembling ones. He hears the choked gasp the prince left out, as if he tried to repress that he will weep through a devoted man.
“Go.” He whispered. His one last words.
Amphinomus' own hands tremble. Malachi no longer held his hand anymore. Amphinomus yearns for that cold hand to be wrapped into his. After a few silence hours. The dulichium suitor left, reluctantly holding the door like he was thinking to be in the arms of the guard again, the man who he once knew..
But unfortunately, fate isn't merciful. If only there was a universe where they were together. No generational trauma, war, corruption. Just peace and them..
Amphinomus then vanished into Malachi's sight... That is when the guard turned around and stared at where the prince had left.
No matter, he will always save his life for Amphinomus. He will always own his life for him. He was made for him as Amphinomus was made for him.
Yes Malachi is if not a fool.
Edit: Hi! Miva here, if anyone is curious about what happened between them, you are free to ask questions in the comments or asks! ^^
Guys I'm so so sorry abt this idek what this is aha<3
TW: unrequited feelings, angst, romance fluff and pain
Some days Tomura doesn't want you.
Everything you say, everything you do, the way you look at him...it's too much.
The way you look at him is too sweet. It gives him a sickly, saccharine taste in his mouth and he withholds himself from getting nauseous. All the love you have in your eyes as you tell him about your shopping haul is too much for him to reciprocate, and he wonders how you can't tell. Is he that good at faking it?
Or do you purposely look down a second early to ignore it, your eyes flitting away to the side as you babble on about whatever new makeup line that just came out, your smile strained and yet persisting to stay up as proof you're not as dumb as you want him to think you are.
Your hands feel too fragile, too dependent and clingy as you tightly loop your fingers through his scratchy ones. He never thought you were too heavy physically, but your presence lingers above his horizons more like a plague, and less like a cloud. He starts to get a headache when you pull him across the mall and show him the shoes he's been subtly checking out for about two weeks now. You know what he wants, and you excitedly point at the display in the window, your large eyes imploring his dull ones to look at the sale the shoes are on for.
You end up hurrying up after him as he wordlessly turns on his heels to head to nowhere in specific.
He's wanted kids for as long as he can remember, and you don't.
He used to tell you how he wishes he could become the dad he never had-a strong, supportive, and protective father who dotes on every kid, regardless of their gender. At first, you nodded eagerly and said you fully understood his point of view. You talked about how great it was that he was trying to overcome childhood trauma and generational cycles of abuse.
He started tuning out when you began to tell him that you were scared of the pain of having kids and how you didn't want to always usurp the "bad guy" role as a mother who's trying to raise her kids right, blah blah blah.
Sex started to feel like a chore after a while, a means to assure you that he still wanted you.
Now he doesn't know who he's trying to convince more, you or himself.
You used to dress up in babydolls and beg him to use handcuffs on you, playful ways to try and seduce him. At one point it would make him laugh and toss you on the bed before climbing over you and making love to you.
These days he coldly interjects and tells you to turn the lights off before avoiding the show of you undressing. Your body, your youth, it all reminds him of what he wants but can't have.
You're both just too different.
Tomura never tells his friends about you, says something along the lines of "I like keeping my private affairs and friends separate" while you giddily defend this notion to your friends and tell them all the good things he does. You buy him a unisex chain with a message written on the inside of the locket, and when you both hang out two weeks before his graduation, he tells you he doesn't wear chains. You jokingly hint that he might still be getting one anyways, because there isn't a refund option, and he flat-out says he'll throw the gift away if you give it to him. When you wince slightly and try to chuckle it off with a "I'll kill you if you try", he smiles thinly and says he likes that you don't take anything he says seriously.
He goes a few weeks without talking to you, sending you snaps and leaving you on read when you try to engage in a conversation over messages or just plain and simple ignoring any messages you send his way. You laugh about revenge and tell yourself when he comes back you'll leave him on read this time, but when he sends one sentence of words back to you it never happens.
Sometimes he reiterates that he wants to take things slow, that marriage is in the future for him, but he just wants to chill right now. Other times you talk about compromise, things you can do better for him or change for a happier future between the two of you.
There isn't much you put your foot down on.
How can you give him so much? Shigaraki thinks to himself. Don't you have any shame, any self-respect? How can you call all these compromises love?
How can you give so much, when he has so little to return?
It's like a burden on him, instead of a reprieve.
Your love is suffocating him.
By doing everything for him, you are doing nothing for yourself.
But for the meantime, he'll let you have your fun and drag him around the mall a bit some more.
He'll let you pull him the opposite direction of where the kids play, away from the stores you buy him unused gifts from, away from all the food you love and he hates.
Maybe there's no place you can actually go with him.
After all, you'll have to realize it at some point as well.
There's only so far you can run from yourself, and him too
OVERALL FIC WARNINGS: Soft Dabi, F!Reader with a fictional backstory, fanon version of past events, manga spoilers, canon deviation, drug abuse/withdrawal, adult language/themes, violence, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, pining, slow burn, eventual (emotional) SMUT, all characters will be written with complexity (i.e., no one-dimensional/hateful representations). *please pay attention to specific warning tags within each chapter!*
CHAPTER WARNINGS: Toga being Toga, talks of violence/murder, illegal acquisition and use of drugs, hurt feelings, aloof Dabi, reader is on birth control.
Chapter Song: Inside by Chris Avantgarde & Red Rosamond
Part 1 Part 10
Artwork credit to @hellowon31 on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)
Betareading credit to @lynxxpoint. Thank you friend!
Chapter 11: Fears
Something was off about Dabi. You noticed it when you had treated his wounds and his nerve pain that morning. He was quieter, his eyes rarely meeting yours. He didn’t fight you when you handed over your pills. It was as if a dark cloud hung over him, silencing his voice in a secret storm.
You couldn’t shake the feeling that it had something to do with you, something to do with falling asleep on him last night. But you didn’t dare ask. Partially because you assumed he’d deny anything was wrong. Or worse, he’d tell you the truth. Maybe he’d tell you that you were getting too attached to him; that you were a nuisance. It created a knot of discomfort deep within your core, one that no amount of logic could untangle. By the end of your treatment session, you could barely keep yourself from bolting out the door.
You wish you could say you didn’t have time to dwell on it... that life as a healer for the League of Villains was too busy to allow you to wallow in such thoughts. But that would be a lie, weaved together with frayed thread, ready to tear at the slightest pressure.
In truth, you couldn’t get the thoughts out of your head. Even as you were gathering your items in preparation for your outing with Compress, as you were collecting the money from Kurogiri, and putting together the grocery list to restock the sad, empty kitchen. Every time you heard someone enter, you’d turn to see if it was Dabi, and be met with disappointment before returning back to your tasks.
Maybe you were getting too attached. After all, he wasn’t exactly the type to make friends. Your mind began scrutinizing all of the events that had happened, and how quickly it all took place. After all, it’d been less than a week. Less than a week since you started treating him. Granted, you’d been through far more together than you’d been through with nearly all the other League members combined, but still.
Your thoughts were interrupted by Compress’s arrival as you were reading through your list of ordered medical supplies.
“I had a feeling you’d be here,” he commented, a pleasant smile on his face. You greeted him with a smile of your own, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his calm presence.
“Are you ready to go?” you asked him.
“Sadly, I won’t be able to join you this time.” He replied. You frowned and a sinking feeling filled your gut.
“Why not?” you asked. “Is everything okay?”
Compress let out a small chuckle and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You worry too much. Everything’s fine. There’s just something I have to take care of for Shigaraki, that’s all.”
You pouted. Compress always accompanied you on your outings. Not only was he the most level-headed of the bunch, but it was easy for him to go unrecognized through the streets, since his face was covered by his villain costume. His demeanor and good looks provided just the right balance of courtesy and austerity that kept strangers from getting too close or heroes asking too many questions.
“What about the pickup today? I have to pick it up today, Compress.”
“I know. That’s why Toga will be going with you.”
You froze for a moment. Toga? You loved Toga, but her wildness made you hesitant about trusting her to get you to and from safely under the noses of heroes and suspicious citizens.
Compress recognized your hesitancy immediately. “I understand why you’re nervous. But she will be in disguise, and she’s gone out in public before and managed to come back without complications. You’ll be alright.”
You swallowed and gave a nod. It wasn’t like you had much choice.
“Be safe, okay?” you said. “I’d hate it if anything were to happen to you.”
“Sometimes I believe you’re too good for this group.” Compress chided. “I’ll be fine. You stay safe as well, and if you need me, you have my number.”
With that, he gave a quick hug over your shoulders that you leaned into gratefully, and he left. Not long after, Toga entered, a big grin on her face.
“You ready, sis?” Her excitement was palpable, like a teenager about to go on a shopping spree at the mall.
“Yeah,” you sighed. “Let’s go.”
When you and Toga stepped out of the dingy, poorly lit hideout, the sun was halfway to its zenith. It was fine, though... your dealer was expecting you in the early afternoon, so you had plenty of time. You glanced at Toga, discomfort creeping across your skin in the form of goosebumps.
She didn’t look like herself. Instead, she had taken on the form of a burly man of at least 6 feet tall, heavy dark sideburns framing a steel jaw. No doubt anyone would be afraid of her without even knowing she was wearing someone else’s skin.
“Is that...?” you started.
“The guy who attacked me? Yeah!” she replied bubbly, an odd contrast to her appearance. “Turns out he ended up being pretty useful after all.” She scrunched up her nose. “He’s pretty gross, though... I don’t like wearing him. And his blood tastes nasty.”
You tried to give a sympathetic smile, but it barely reached your eyes. You wanted to be understanding, to keep the judgment from your voice and the fear from your face, but everything about this situation was just so strange. You were suddenly acutely aware that you were in the presence of a villain, a predator. Toga was an imposter, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She was a killer, and there was no way to gloss over that fact when she wore this man’s skin - regardless of whether or not he deserved it.
It unlocked an instinctual fear within you, every warning bell in your mind screaming danger. No matter how much you wanted to trust her, you couldn’t help but watch her from the corner of your eye, hesitating to turn your back on her for even a second. You weren’t sure if she noticed; if she did, she didn’t show it. Deep down you were grateful - if she asked why you were so nervous, you weren’t sure you’d be able to give a convincing lie.
The two of you walked down the street together, making your way to the train station. The neighborhood was dingy and poor, and had you been walking by yourself, you may have been subjected to anything from catcalls and crude remarks to groping hands and petty theft. But with Toga in her present form, every seedy looking stranger gave you a wide berth. Slowly your paranoia around her began to dwindle, which gave way to curiosity.
“Toga...” you ventured. “What’s it like when you use your quirk?”
Toga glanced at you with veiled surprise before a grin spread across her masculine features. “It’s the best feeling ever. It’s the only time I feel free, like I’m being myself.”
“By being other people?” you asked.
She gave a small, offended huff. “Not just anyone...” she replied. “I want to be the people I love. Mr. Stainy, Izuku, Ochaco... I love them with my whole being.”
Toga’s face became wistful, cheeks covered in a deep blush as her eyes watered with unshed tears. “Nothing makes me feel closer to the ones I love than when I become them. I feel them all around me. On my skin, in my head... It’s the most romantic thing there is. And when I drink their blood, I can taste the love there. It’s sweet, like honey, and I can taste their feelings – their fears, their happiness... It only makes me love them more because I understand them.”
“But... if you don’t stop yourself, it can kill them... then they’re gone forever.”
“Yeah, I guess...” Toga shrugged evasively. “but once I become them, they’ll always be a part of me, so I never really feel like they’re gone. Like I’ve never really lost them.”
‘But other people lose them...’ you thought.
The conversation was cut short as the two of you arrived at the train station just in time and boarded the already-full train car. Even so, the passengers did their best to avoid contact with the two of you, scrunching themselves up against their neighbors in an effort to give you space.
You and Toga both fell silent, unwilling to continue such a private and exposing topic with others in earshot. But your mind kept going as your mouth stayed still.
She couldn’t control herself. Or more specifically, she couldn’t control her quirk. It forced itself into being expressed, mingling her feelings of love with her biological need to drink others’ blood and become them. You couldn’t help but wonder... what was her life like before? No doubt her quirk manifested as a child, just like everyone else’s. How long did she force herself to suppress her quirk before she finally gave up? You tried to imagine her as a little girl, cute and innocent, lips red with blood, small face devoid of understanding.
The memory of a familiar young face flashed across your mind. Dark eyes. A kind smile. It brought forth a deep, familiar ache, one better left forgotten. Loss weighed heavy on your chest, forcing the sharp sting of tears to your eyes before you shoved the memory away.
You didn’t want to think about it. Not right now, not in public where you had to keep your emotions in check and focus on your surroundings.
You looked around at the various people surrounding you and Toga. Everyone was minding their business, eyes on their phones, some with earbuds stuffed into their ears. Your eyes glossed over the crowd, when suddenly you felt the strange itch of familiarity at the back of your mind that made you do a double-take.
There, some guy wearing a black hoodie with his back turned to you. You could barely see him, stuffed towards the back of the car with swaths of people between you and him, and yet something about him seemed strangely familiar. Was it his height? His posture? You couldn’t quite place it. You glanced at Toga to see if she noticed, but she was too busy staring at Izuku’s social media account on her phone to notice much of anything. You looked back, but the stranger was gone. The train came to a stop and people began exiting the train car.
“Let’s go,” Toga said, her phone back in her pocket.
With one last glance to the back of the now half-empty car, you followed Toga off the train into the busy streets of Musutafu. This part of town was much, much nicer compared to where you came from, the streets clean, the grassy areas green and well-maintained. Another stark difference was the number of heroes out on patrol in the city streets, their capes and flashy colors making them easily identifiable in the throngs of the bustling public. They eyed Toga’s thug appearance with cautious eyes, but their suspicion faded when they saw you walking with her. After all, everything about you screamed normalcy, at least compared to the burly man next to you.
The two of you never revisited your earlier conversation, especially now that you were in the enemy’s territory. You both had to keep alert as you attempted to conduct your business under the noses of every hero you passed by. Most were nothing special – just regular people there to do their job, collect their paycheck, and go home.
But there was always a risk of running into one of the higher-ups, the heroes on the top billboard charts whose keen eyes, raw talent, or years of experience made them notice things others didn’t.
You struggled to keep yourself from clutching your tote bag too tightly with nervousness. The smallest behavior could get you noticed, and the last thing you wanted was to be cornered by a hero who’s full of questions.
You and Toga made your way through the streets until you reached a tall, modern building stacked high with condos. You walked on through the glass doors, finding yourself in an open foyer with elevators on both sides. A security guard sat at a counter, his head perking up at your entrance.
“Ah, welcome back, miss.” He commented as his eyes locked with yours. Then his eyes shifted to Toga, widening slightly. “And who’s this?”
“Just a friend of mine, Yamashita-san.” You replied.
“What happened to the other fellow?” he asked, his eyes never leaving Toga’s burly form.
“He’s not feeling well today. This is his brother.” You lied.
“His brother?”
“Half-brother.” Toga said gruffly.
He still didn’t look convinced, so you brought forth your kindest voice in an attempt to assuage his concerns. “Don’t worry, Matsumoto-san knows he’s joining me.”
With doubt written across his face, he picked up the black phone on the counter and called Matsumoto’s number. A couple of minutes later and a few exchanged words, and Yamashita hung up the receiver. He gave you a silent nod of approval.
As you passed by him on your way to the elevators, you heard him mutter to himself, “…some interesting friends...”
You could feel the murderous desire rolling off of Toga, and as soon as the elevator doors closed on the two of you, she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper. “That security guard is dangerous.”
“Why?” you asked quietly. You were painfully aware of the security camera positioned behind you, likely able to pick up the audio as its lens faced the elevator doors.
“Because he’s suspicious. It’s only a matter of time before he files a concerned citizen’s report with the police and the hero commission. I should kill him.”
“No, you should not.” You scolded with a glare. “And don’t say that stuff here.”
Toga visibly pouted. “Why not?”
You lowered your voice even further, your lips barely moving. “Security cameras. And just because he finds Yatsumoto’s friends odd, doesn’t mean he’s going to report anything. Besides, having Yamashita suddenly disappear or have his body show up in some dumpster will most definitely get the hero commission and police involved. Anyway, maybe next time you can choose a less... intimidating disguise...?”
Toga’s pout only deepened, but she fell silent in begrudging agreement. “I’m sure he’d taste gross anyway.” She grumbled.
“I’ll talk to Yatsumoto about it.” You consoled. “He has a way with people that gets them to trust him.” And he had money. A lot of it.
The elevator doors opened and the two of you stepped out into an empty hallway with a single door directly in front of you.
Toga looked up and down the hall in confusion. “Is this... the only condo on this floor?”
“On this side?” you asked. “Yeah. The condos are divided into separate wings with the elevators going up the center. Each condo gets its own floor on its side of the building.”
“What?? That’s so much space!” Toga exclaimed.
“Yatsumoto’s work is very.... lucrative.” You replied.
You gave a small knock on the door in front of you. It was opened not a moment later by a tall and handsome man not much older than yourself. Sharp, grey eyes framed in wireless glasses looked down at you, his forehead framed in black, curly locks. Sharp cheekbones and a pointed chin framed his smile as he greeted you.
“You made it! Come on in.” he said. “Gimme a sec while I get your stuff.”
You stepped into his apartment with a quick glance at Toga. Her eyes were wide with intrigue, although she managed to expertly keep the blush from creeping across her cheeks – a wise move, considering her current appearance.
As soon as Yatsumoto stepped out of the living room, Toga grabbed you by your arm. “This is your dealer??”
“And my friend,” you added. “We met when I was in med school.”
“That’s right,” Yatsumoto chimed in as he returned with a paper bag filled with various contents. “I was going for my pharmacy PhD and she was working on her doctorate in medicine. Some of our classes overlapped.”
“Yatsumoto was top of his graduating class and works for one of the top pharmaceutical companies in Japan.” You explained. Toga’s eyes widened in amazement.
“Stop bragging about me.” Yatsumoto teased. “Besides, I only finished top of my class because you were forced to drop out.”
“What??” Toga exclaimed. “Why?”
An uncomfortable silence filled the space for a moment before you answered. “Let’s just say that the government didn’t approve of my thesis.”
Your tone left no room for questions, despite the curiosity in Toga’s eyes. Yatsumoto caught on immediately, and with a knowing glance, he changed the subject. “Let’s go over your order...”
He opened the bag and pulled out a folded sheet of paper that had been tucked into it. “Okay, so we have...”
He began listing off the various prescriptions, taking each item out of the bag and placing it on the table as you cross-checked your list with his. Pain meds, antibiotics, anti-anxiety medications, birth control... and then there were the other medical supplies – surgical dressings, surgical thread and needles, antiseptics. You were grateful to see your pills in the lineup, two bottles this time instead of one. Once the list was done and you confirmed that it was all good, he put the items back in the large paper bag.
“Can I use your bathroom?” Toga asked. Yatsumoto nodded and pointed to where it was located. Toga thanked him and left the room, and you returned to the matter at hand.
You opened the bag and glanced at the contents again as the memory of Dabi’s scars sat forefront in your mind.
“Any update on that one painkiller I asked for?”
“Hoping to have it by next week.” He replied. “It’s a tough one to get, because it’s a class A drug, so usually I would use my less legal connections for it. But there was an issue with the supply chain – the hero commission intercepted an illegal shipment that was supposed to arrive a couple of weeks ago and there’s been a shortage ever since.”
Well, that would explain why Dabi wasn’t able to find any...
Yatsumoto continued, “I have to order it through the drug administration, which means lots of carefully forged paperwork, especially at the dosage you’re asking for. If I’m not careful, they’ll come knocking down my door.” Then as an afterthought, he asked, “is everything okay?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“You’re asking for more of your pain meds, and now you want enough of these opioids to take down a man twice your size.” His eyes pinned you with a concerned gaze. You fought the urge to shift uncomfortably as your scar itched.
“I’m fine,” you replied. “The extra drugs aren’t for me. Let’s just say I have a guy whose quirk leaves him in rough shape.”
“Hm...” he hummed, as he stared at you a moment longer. But before he could say anything else, Toga returned from the bathroom.
“We ready to go?” Toga asked. You could hear the undercurrent of impatience in her voice, and you remembered that she could only disguise herself as others for so long, depending on how much blood she had.
Which might have been part of why she escaped to the bathroom.
Either way, the clock was ticking, and you still had more errands to do.
“Almost.” You told her. You turned back to your friend and handed over a roll of cash. “Here you go, as promised. Do you want to count it before we go?”
Yatsumoto gave a wry grin. “It’d be bad business if I didn’t.” Toga shifted her stance slightly, her tension palpable. Yatsumoto noticed, his grin disappearing from his face. “But I’ll be quick about it.”
He quickly took the bills to the table and counted them with the speed of a machine. As he counted, you eyed his apartment, taking in the details. Much was the same as your last visit – clean, organized... Yatsumoto took his work very seriously.
After a few minutes, he folded up the cash and turned to face you. “You’re lucky we’re such good friends. You’re the only one who gets such a huge discount.”
“You can afford it.” You winked. “Besides, you do this because you want to. You’ve always had a thing for the underdogs...”
“Yeah, I supposed you’re right...although I don’t feel much like an underdog myself, these days.” He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he looked around the condo.
“You’re helping people who really need it, people who wouldn’t be able to get help otherwise.”
“Yeah, yeah... don’t start with me.”
Toga was nearly halfway out the door not a moment later. “Okay, thank you, nice to meet you.” She said quickly as she grabbed for your arm.
Yatsumoto furrowed his brow in concern – no doubt seeing you being dragged away by a large thug almost twice your age would have that sort of reaction. But you flashed him a reassuring smile and waved.
“Thank you so much!” you called to him. You were already in the elevator, the doors starting to close. “We’ll be in touch!”
As soon as the elevator doors closed, you spun on Toga and glared at her.
“What the hell was that all about??”
Toga wore a frown that fit too well with the face she was wearing and cast a swift covert glance at the security camera. “We have maybe forty minutes left, tops.” She said, her voice low.
You felt a pit form in your stomach, and you swallowed. Forty minutes... well that wasn’t very much time at all, was it?
“How did this happen? I thought you always made sure you had enough, you know... stuff to last?”
“I do! Well, I did... I must have dropped the vial when I was on the train.” An embarrassed blush blossomed across her cheeks.
You raised a judgmental eyebrow. “You mean when you took your phone out of your pocket to stare at Izuku’s social media?”
Toga scoffed. “You’d stare too, if you realized how perfect he is...”
You rolled your eyes slightly. “He’s a little young for me, don’tcha think?”
Toga only pouted and crossed her arms petulantly. You let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, it doesn’t matter much now, does it? It’s done now, and the clock is ticking. We’ll just have to skip the market. We can go back out again later once we get you home.”
“I could always grab a snack on our way back...” Toga offered. The implication was clear as day. If she wasn’t able to wear this face, then she’d just have to find someone else to give her a new one.
You stared at your own stunned reflection in the mirror that made up the elevator’s interior. “No.” you replied, trying to keep your tone light yet firm. “Probably not a good idea in a nice neighborhood like this. It’s crawling with heroes, remember?”
“Then we better hurry.” She replied. “If we can at least get back to our neighborhood, it won’t matter as much.”
Easier said than done. Ten minutes later, the two of you stood at the train station, mouths agape as you stared up at the giant blaring red letters ‘OUT OF SERVICE.’
“You’ve got to be shitting me...” you muttered. Immediately your eyes began scanning for alternative routes, trying to speedily do the math in your head. But it was fruitless... there were no options that didn’t involve Toga transforming back into herself – naked, no less – in the middle of a crowded rail car.
“Looks like I’ll be getting a snack after all...” Toga said almost gleefully.
“There’s gotta be another way...” you whispered.
Toga scoffed. “It’s not like we have any other choice.” She immediately began scanning the crowded train station. “Hey, what about her? She’s cute!”
You followed her gaze to a sweet looking teenager in a light blue jacket, her hair drawn back in a ponytail.
“She’s so young...”
You couldn’t keep the hint of sadness from your voice, but Toga didn’t seem to notice, her eyes predatory as she watched the unsuspecting victim.
“She’s probably around the same age as me...” Toga replied, a faint flush on her cheeks.
“Remember where we live. Looking like that would be asking for trouble for both of us.” You reasoned. “Street thugs would have no problem harassing a couple of girls.”
“Hmph, okay fine. What about him?” she pointed at a tall man, middle-aged with stern eyes and a pointed jawline. He looked like he could be a father. Or a husband.
But even if he was none of those things, it shouldn’t matter, right? He was a person.
“And how do you expect to even get close to him?” you asked. “We’re in a crowded train station. Someone’s bound to notice.”
The moral dilemma you were finding yourself in began to make your hands shake. Your own eyes began scanning the crowd, and you found yourself wishing for a seedier neighborhood, for the option of at least picking someone who likely wouldn’t be missed. A homeless person, or-
Bile rose in your throat. You fought it down with a heavy swallow.
What were you doing?? Weighing people’s lives like you were weighing oranges? As if one life held more weight than another? What gave you the right?
And yet, what other choices were there in a situation like this? If a choice had to be made, how else was it to be done?
Young or old? Parent or childless? Married or single? Business or homeless? There was no way to know half of this just by looking at strangers in a train station.
Some dark, part of you began to understand why Toga didn’t trouble herself over selecting her victims. There was no moral way of making an immoral choice.
Of course, there was always the choice of not choosing at all, letting her disguise melt away and likely getting caught. And perhaps if it were you having to make such a choice, that’s what you would have done. But Toga was definitely not you. Surrendering herself was the last thing she’d do. In her world, it was predator or prey, eat or be eaten.
In that moment, you knew... you knew that you had no control over the situation, that Toga would choose a victim.
You could feel yourself drowning in your own helplessness, watching, waiting.
Someone was going to die.
And you were going to let it happen.
If only there was someone else here, someone you could reach out to for help...
Compress. Yes, that’s it! You’d call Compress! Maybe he was close by, maybe he could use his quirk to transport you and Toga safely home...
Just then, you felt a tall presence behind you. You heard his voice before you could even turn around.
“You’re about to do something dumb, aren’t you?”
Dabi. Dabi??
Relief flooded every inch of your being. You spun around expecting to see Dabi’s trademark stitched jacket and white tee, but instead you were face to face with a soft, black hoodie. You stared up into his face, but even that was mostly covered, hidden way behind sunglasses and a face mask with the hood pulled up. Your heart pounded heavy in your chest as recognition dawned immediately.
“What are you doing here?” Toga pouted.
“Saving your ass, apparently.” Dabi replied. He quickly flashed an item in his gloved hand – a vial with dark red liquid in it – before it disappeared in his closed fist again.
She gasped, her face lighting up with excitement. “Where did you find that??”
“On the coffee table at the hideout.” Dabi replied.
That was lie. You knew it was a lie. You were certain, without a doubt, that the unknown man you saw on the train earlier was Dabi.
“Really??” Toga asked. “I could have sworn I had it in my pocket when we left...”
You had a feeling she did too.
“Apparently not.” Dabi replied, brushing off her confusion.
You squinted your eyes at him suspiciously. “How did you find us?”
“I ran into Compress on his way out, he told me where you guys went.” Dabi replied. “Then I had to haul my ass over here, which I really didn’t enjoy.”
Lies upon lies. But why? You stared at him long and hard. Even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew he was avoiding looking at you.
Which means he probably knew that you saw right through him.
“Sorry,” Toga said sheepishly. “Can I have that vial now?”
Silently, Dabi handed it to her. Toga grabbed it, and without even thinking - without even checking her crowded surroundings - opened the vial. Just as she began to drink the contents, your eyes focused on an individual standing in front of a pillar in a brightly colored outfit – a hero, monitoring the train station – and his eyes scanned the crowd, moving slowly towards your direction.
“Toga...” you started in warning, but Dabi was a step ahead of you. He let out a low curse and knocked the vial from her hand, causing the glass and half of its contents to fall down onto the train tracks. A couple of strangers nearby looked over in confusion, but the arrival of a train and the shuffling of throngs of people provided just enough of a distraction to drown out Toga’s protest.
“Dabi, what the hell!”
“Don’t say my name, you idiot. Are you really that fucking dumb??” Dabi demanded with a low hiss. He grabbed Toga by the arm and pulled her aside behind another pillar, out of sight of the hero. You followed of course, afraid of getting separated from them, your ears barely picking up Dabi’s harsh but hushed voice.
“This place is crawling with heroes, and you’re just having a little drink like it’s nothing. Is that vial even the same guy you’re wearing? Are you just gonna change right in front of all these people?”
Toga tugged her arm out of his grip. “Of course it’s the same guy! I’m not an idiot. Anyway, a lot of good it does me now that it’s all over the damn tracks!” Toga shot back. “That was supposed to last me for at least another couple of hours, now I’m lucky if I’ll get one!”
A sinister chuckle bubbled in Dabi’s throat. “Better hurry home, then,” he said mockingly. “If you take the yellow line to the purple line, you should make it in time.”
“And what about her?” Toga pointed at you, and you stared between the two of them, eyes wide. “She still has to run the rest of her errands. Are you gonna explain to Shigaraki why there’s no food in our fridge when we get back?”
Dabi’s face shifted towards yours, and you could feel his eyes on you as he paused. “I’ll stay with her.” He finally said.
Your stomach knotted and your heart fluttered in your chest.
A sly grin spread across Toga’s face. “Ohhh, I see what’s going on here. Jeez, Dabi... if you wanted her all to yourself, all you had to do ask...”
Dabi’s posture immediately stiffened, hands stuffed into his pockets, and he glared down at Toga through his black shades. “Get fucking lost.” He hissed.
As if on cue, the train for the yellow line rolled in, its doors opening to release a new crowd of people. Toga skipped into the train car with her arms swinging. She turned and waved at the two of you with a wink before the doors closed on her grinning face.
A long moment of silence passed as you and Dabi watched the train leave. Finally, he muttered, “let’s go.” He began leading you across the platform where another train was due to arrive in a few minutes.
“But the store is-”
“We’re not going to any of the stores here. Too many heroes around. There’s a place I know in a different part of town.”
So, you sat on the metal bench and waited, watching the people around you. You felt separate from them, alien – an outsider looking in. It made you miss your life before everything had happened, before your world fell apart. To be able to go shopping, sit at coffee shops, meet up with friends.
You glanced at Dabi.
Friends. You had used that word with him recently, and he hadn’t seemed to mind it too much. And the two of you had started to get closer. But now...
Now he wouldn’t even look at you.
“Why do you keep staring at me?”
His voice cut through your thoughts, and you froze as heat flooded you. You looked away. “Sorry.” You mumbled.
You tried to build the courage to ask him what was bothering him, but your train rolled in before the question could even be broached. Silently, the two of you boarded. This train had less people on it than the other… a sign that wherever you were going was a less desirable location than where you were. Finding two neighboring seats was easy, and you settled in next to Dabi, your arms touching. Dabi had his hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie, while yours clutched your tote bag.
A thousand questions ran through your mind as the train bumped along on the tracks, slightly jostling you in an unsteady rhythm. Why had his mood shifted this morning? What was he doing on that train? Why did he lie about being there?
Why wouldn’t he look at you?
The questions piled up like snow in a winter storm, but you asked none of them, your tongue frozen to the roof of your mouth. He was already more distant than usual, and you didn’t want to make it worse.
Minutes passed. Long, excruciating minutes, each one compounding onto the one that came before it, a heavy weight on your shoulders as you sat unmoving as you approached your new destination. It was torture, being close enough to feel his warmth, to smell the scent of his clothes, and yet not look at him, not talk to him like you’d grown so accustomed to doing.
So, it was a relief when his voice broke the silence. “You got everything you needed?”
You could feel his eyes on the bag, and suddenly everything clicked. The hope you’d held onto sank like a heavy stone into your gut, and your hand tightened on the strap.
“Yeah,” you replied.
“Did they have my pills?” he asked.
His question was reasonable, yet it was delivered so bluntly, that you couldn’t help the way your next words fell from your mouth.
“Wait, was that why you followed us?”
You caught Dabi’s side glance at you from behind his glasses, ocean blue flashing before disappearing again.
“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about.” He said dismissively.
You gave him a deadpan look and raised an eyebrow. “Sure, you don’t.”
Dabi refused to take your bait, and you rolled your eyes at him.
“Fine. Play dumb if you want, but I know I saw you on the train earlier.” You crossed your arms over your bag as you sank down in your seat slightly. “And to answer your question, no. Sorry you wasted your time.”
Now he looked at you fully, his brow furrowed in what you could only guess was confusion.
“You angry, doll?”
Doll. The word sounded like a peacekeeping gesture; a term of endearment meant to temper you. And you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed hearing it, especially after dealing with his aloofness the entire day.
But it wasn’t enough. You bit the inside of your cheek and continued to scowl out the window. You were angry. Angry, and a bit hurt. After all, he’d given you the cold shoulder all morning. A part of you had hoped that maybe there was a more friendly reason for his stalking, but instead it was just about his drugs.
“Just disappointed.” You finally said as you stared at your reflection in the window.
You could see him in the scratched-up plexiglass, the bewildered question of ‘why’ written into his posture, in the way he stared at you. But for whatever reason, the question never left his lips. Instead, he let out a frustrated huff and faced forward again.
You didn’t want to be mad at him. And if you let yourself think it through logically, it made sense that he wanted his pills so he could stop using yours. But why the sneaking around? Why not just ask to come along? Did he just not want to be around you?
The fragility of your relationship to him circled in your mind like a bird of prey, ready to peck out your heart. When all was said and done, when he was healed no longer needed you... what would happen? Were you only as valuable as your quirk? As the drugs you provided him out of kindness and concern?
An awkward silence filled the space as you sunk further and further into your thoughts, and Dabi didn’t seem to be faring much better. He sat next to you, his natural body heat warm as a bonfire, but his posture as cold as ice. Clearly what you’d said had gotten under his skin the way he’d gotten under yours.
And neither of you knew how to talk about it.
It was going to be a long trip.
As you sat in walled-off silence, Dabi’s hands clenched into fists within the pocket of his hoodie. A million things he wanted to say ran through his mind. Yes, he had followed you. Yes, it was partially to see if you had his drugs. But no, that wasn’t the only reason.
But Dabi couldn’t say any of those things. Not without exposing parts of himself that he didn’t want to. To say something as simple as ‘I was worried about you’ spoke of something he couldn’t bring himself to accept yet, even though he was constantly aware of it, an unyielding presence woven through every part of himself. It made his stomach roil with nausea, his pulse race when he was near you, and his body want when you were apart. He was already far too comfortable with you, to the point that it was becoming dangerous. He was dangerous, and you were too kind and caring to realize that. After all, you’d only ever seen one side of him, a side that he hadn’t realized was there until you’d come into his dark, broken world and shined a light on the parts of himself that he’d forgotten.
He wanted distance. He wanted space. That’s what he’d told himself when he’d retreated to his room after sharing the couch with you the night before, after waking up in fear that his nightmares had manifested into reality at the touch of his hands.
If only it were so simple. If only he could just tell himself how to feel, to force his complicated web of emotions into something simple and understandable, something he could control. But even in this imperfect moment, he was torn between wanting to flee and wanting to lean closer to you in silent apology.
He didn’t do either of those things. Instead, he sat still as a statue, his fingers picking at his stitches within the pocket of his hoodie, a poor distraction to the unsettling energy within the empty train car. The silence was the only thing left to share between the two of you, a heavy blanket of discontent and unspoken confessions.
When the train finally approached the right station, Dabi stood up swiftly, eager to distance himself from the mess he’d made for himself.
“Come on,” he said.
Without a word, you got up and followed him off the train to find yourself in a much less nice location. Graffiti covered the walls, posters for outdated movies were vandalized, and the trash cans were overflowing with refuse that likely hadn’t been picked up in weeks. The stale stench of urine clung to the air, trapped within underground space. You couldn’t hide the wrinkle of your nose in distaste.
“Where are you taking me?” you asked.
“I know it’s not much to look at, doll, but we’ll be much more likely to get in and out without catching someone’s eye.”
He led the way up the stairs into an afternoon sun that offered little warmth in the fall chill. The streets here were less busy, the presence of brightly colored hero uniforms practically non-existent. Industrial complexes and scrap yards were spaced tightly together, with the occasional liquor store and small hole-in-the-wall business speckled in between. No nice cars drove here; it was old trucks, beater cars, and 18-wheelers hauling warehouse deliveries.
You kept close to Dabi as he led you down the street, turning left at the end of the block. Up ahead, you spotted the discount grocery store, its sign half-lit and faded with age.
Dabi spoke. “They won’t have any of that fancy shit that Compress likes, but we’ll be able to get in and out without any hassle.”
He had a point there.
It was a strange experience, shopping with Dabi. He was silent as he followed you around, his posture exuding boredom as you made your way up and down the aisles, collecting what you could off the list. He didn’t offer to push the cart, but he didn’t leave your presence either. He was a shadow that drifted behind you, waiting with veiled impatience. Every once in a while, he’d grab something off the shelf and throw it into the cart. You’d give him a raised eyebrow and the smallest quirk of the corner of your mouth but didn’t say anything as you continued shopping.
Once you were at the register, the energy around Dabi shifted from boredom to irritation. His hands were shoved even deeper into his hoodie to the point where you could make out the shape of his fists pushing against the fabric. His posture shifted every couple of seconds, the tell-tale sign that your treatment was waning. You picked up on it instantly, of course. You checked the time on your phone. It was nearly 5pm now; you chewed your cheek slightly. Before, your medication and quirk combo could last him until 7ish. But now, it seemed like the meds lasted for less and less time.
“Can we fucking go already?” he grumbled as you put the change in your wallet.
You eyed him for a moment and made your way for the exit. “Let’s get you home.”
You handed him a grocery bag, which he begrudgingly took.
He followed you, back hunched as you made your way back to the train station. The walk back felt faster than the walk to the store, the path familiar now. Before you knew it, you were both back on the train, where Dabi sank into the seat next to you. The train car wasn’t empty this time, the seats speckled with other passengers who hardly looked up from their phones to acknowledge your existence. In the back corner, a homeless man talked to himself, hands gesturing wildly. A couple of unsavory looking guys slouched in the seats nearby, watching you and Dabi with dangerous eyes. You didn’t dare bring out your pills here – it was asking for trouble.
“Can you make it until we get home?” you whispered.
“Do I have a fuckin’ choice?” Dabi replied as he stared ahead. You could tell he was focusing on the pain, his breaths heavier than before. His knuckles clenched the handle of the grocery bag as he fought through another wave of pain.
Without thinking, you placed your hand over his in silent comfort. He recoiled instantly.
“Don’t.” he said through clenched teeth.
The men seated nearby snickered and whispered at each other. You felt heat roll over your skin and took back your hand. “Sorry, I just... Sorry.” You muttered.
Dabi could hear the strain in your voice, the hurt woven with disappointment. Fuck.
But he didn’t have the ability to console you now... not with his body slowly sinking into agony while simultaneously keeping a sharp eye on the men watching you. If they tried anything... pain or no pain...
Thankfully for Dabi, the men kept to themselves.
The rest of the trip home was held in stiff taciturnity, neither willing to be the first to speak and repair what had been broken. By the time you’d both arrived back at the hideout, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to run away to the kitchen out of Dabi’s presence and put away groceries or drag his stubborn ass upstairs and give him the treatment he obviously needed.
Toga was the first to greet you as you entered, her disguise now gone. “You’re back!” she exclaimed, bouncing up. She hesitated though, as yours and Dabi’s mute discomfort permeated the space. Dabi didn’t even look up in acknowledgement as he made his way to the stairwell to go up to his room.
“Woah... what happened??” Toga asked.
“A lover’s quarrel??” Twice chimed in.
“What??” you scoffed. “No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” You set the grocery bags down on the bar. “Can you guys put these away for me please?”
And before they even answered, you were out the door, following in Dabi’s footsteps with your bag of goods still slung over your shoulder. He had moved quickly, already out of sight and in the sanctuary of his room by the time you’d made your way out of the old stairwell. You knocked on his door, the familiar rhythmic knock that let him know exactly who it was. A moment of silence passed before you spoke through the hard wood. “Are you going to let me treat you, or what?” The silence continued, and you sighed and leaned your head against the door. “Please, Dabi... let me in.”
A moment later he opened the door. But this time, he didn’t linger to let you walk past him. Instead, he returned to sit on his bed, his fingers rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He’d already removed his hoodie and other items, sitting in his white shirt and black pants.
You hoped for some sort of remark, a snarky comment about your stubbornness, or your impatience, something. But instead, you got silence, a great stone wall that you hadn’t felt since your early days before you’d begun treating him.
You opened your mouth, hoping to find the words to ask the question so obviously written on your face, but the words evaded you, your tongue tied up in the thick rope of Dabi’s reticence.
So, you didn’t ask. You didn’t even speak. You silently opened your bag, taking out the package of pharmaceuticals and first-aid materials. The bag was so full of contents that you had to dump them out on his desk to find what you needed. There it was, your medication with your name on it, mixed amongst the pile.
Dabi watched you silently, his eyes glossing over everything with mild interest. He couldn’t help the curiosity, the demon of addiction still lurking in his blood. He’d always wondered what other items you had on hand to treat the League. But there were so many pill bottles, and he was too far away to read any of them. He did, however, catch the unmistakable packaging of birth control pills and his eyes widened slightly in realization.
There were only two girls – well, biological girls - in the League of Villains. So, there was a 50/50 chance that those pills were for you. That chance increased drastically, considering Toga was still a teenager and only cared about that green-haired kid. And Dabi was absolutely sure that that matchup would never happen.
Which only left... you.
Were you involved with someone? Dabi had never noticed anything with any of the other League members, but then again how much did he really even know about you? His brain immediately began going down the list.
Definitely not Shigaraki. Quirk aside, he quite literally hated being touched in any way at all. Definitely not Spinner or Twice. Compress?
Dabi froze on that thought. You were kind of close to him, weren’t you? After all, he was the one who brought you into the League to begin with. He’d seen you two share hugs before, sit next to each other on the couch, laugh together... Dabi had never thought anything of it back then. Everything about your interactions with him had screamed of platonic friendship. Almost brotherly, in a way.
But maybe he had it wrong.
Compress was the one who often accompanied you on your outings, and sometimes those outings took hours. What went on during that time? Was it strictly business? Or was it more than that, little dates here and there speckled in right under everyone’s noses?
And why wouldn’t you date him? Dabi had seen him without his mask before; he was a handsome guy, and older, more experienced. By far the most emotionally and mentally stable out of everyone in the League. More stable than himself, that was for sure, and likely, from your perspective, more attractive too.
The unwanted mental picture of Compress kissing you, holding you, touching you burst into his mind like a hurricane, powerful and destructive.
Dabi felt his temperature rise and his hands clenched into tight fists into his bed sheets. His vision blurred as an unwelcome feeling settled deep into his gut, cold and heavy like lead. It weighed him down, immobilized him as he struggled against it, as he tried to tell himself it didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter who you dated, or who you fucked...
But it did. It did matter.
You caught Dabi’s attention again as you began putting items back into your bag, leaving out the gauze, surgical dressings, and painkillers. He struggled to get his tangled, wild emotions under control before you turned around and saw the look on his face. But the heat lingered, the blood in his veins sizzling with barely contained anger.
Your voice cut through his internal battle. “Here.”
Your hand was extended, pills displayed in offering. Without a word, Dabi took them and swallowed them hungrily, as if they could dissolve the feelings trapped inside himself.
He couldn’t look at you, not without that mental picture of you and Compress together popping up in his head again and again.
Out of his peripheral, he saw you take some pills as well, following them with water from a water bottle you pulled from your bag.
That’s right – you could take your own pills now too. He knew it’d take time for them to take effect, but even so, amongst Dabi’s inner turmoil, he found the faintest hint of relief that you wouldn’t have to suffer like you have been, at least not for much longer.
You stepped away to wash your hands in his bathroom sink and returned a couple minutes later, hands poised and ready.
“Let’s take off your shirt.” You said quietly.
Dabi obliged, and you began helping him remove his bandages so you could clean and repatch his wound.
“You’re really warm.” You commented, concern laced through your words. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He lied.
You narrowed your eyes and tightened your lips, and he knew you understood the implications of that familiar phrase. You didn’t comment on it though, instead moving forward with your care.
“Your burn is healing well...” you commented. “We’ll probably have to only change your bandages once a day, soon.”
“How soon?”
“Maybe a couple more days... if you’re good.”
The unspoken comment was there – ‘don’t use your quirk.’ A small playful smirk emerged at the corner of your mouth. Normally, Dabi would scoff and give a wry rebuttal. But his thoughts choked him in an invisible iron grip, as he grappled with your kind playfulness. It made his mood even more sour, a taunting reminder of what wasn’t really his, and in that moment it felt as if the two of you were worlds apart, despite the fact that you literally had your hands on his hot skin.
Your small smile vanished in defeat against Dabi’s wall of silence, and you remained silent for the rest of your visit.
Dabi hated it. He hated seeing the hurt in your eyes, hated seeing your body language gradually tense against the overuse of your quirk as you stubbornly insisted on treating his nerve pain despite your obvious offense at his aloof behavior the entire day.
And he hated even more his continued silence, his inability – or was it unwillingness? – to speak to you, to offer at least a crumb of comfort across the vast emptiness.
And what he hated most of all, was letting you walk out the door of his room alone, the connection the two of you had shared up to this point now dangerously fractured to the point of breaking.
Care for an angsty headcanon regarding the Milo audio released on 12 March 2022?
What sent Sweetheart into a panic attack, you might ask? Well, they were dispatched to a scene of a probable latent humanborn person’s powers manifesting that had been reported as a domestic abuse case. When Sweetheart arrived, invisible and intangible to gather intel, they found the empowered person barely alive on the floor and the abusive partner muttering about “impossible” things and trying to rationalize that the partner “shouldn’t have done that,” insisting “They deserved what they got. They were going to leave.” Sweetheart immediately decloaked and knocked out the perp, requesting memory-modifier back up. As Sweetheart tried to heal the injured victim, they barely got a hand on them before the person passed away in their arms, confused, afraid, and in pain. Just before they passed, Sweetheart felt a glimpse of the new aura that never got the chance to grow and to develop.
Alright, TW: these are pretty angsty and.. I might make a little dark. Might make them when I upload those kid Reagan Chapters (Ugh.. I can’t seem to be pulling all Nighters anymore. It really hurts and sucks that I barely written anything for that fic)
Hanahaki Brett AU/ Canon Divergence that takes place in Part 2 and after the ending.
or
The Brettfeast AU/ Canon Divergence where the Nostalgia Max is poured onto Reagan. But since she’s doesn’t have any nostalgia of her childhood, she’s put into a comatose state, her eyes glowing green (unknown to the gang her repressed memories are just replaying in her mind.) It’s a rescue mission with Brett and Rand with Part 1 Episode 10 goes in a way
I might upload it on Ao3, but uh, put in your vote in. If I don’t any votes, I’ll figure it out later
TW/CW: canon typical violence, angst, hurt feelings, we are not a couple, unrequited love, master/apprentice, kylo is PISSED, meanie meanie, SPOILER there will be NO reconciliation ;)
credit to @rhinobeetl for this beautiful art of the goth boyfriend himself. let me know if you want me to remove the picture!
“Is that all you have?”
“Haven’t I taught you better than that?”
“You’re begging to be killed!”
“Pay attention, you worthless little rat!”
“Please…” your voice croaks through your blood-chapped lips. Cracking at the corners as you bow onto the wet ground, tainted with your sweat and tears.
Your entire being ached, chest hitching over and over as you tried to recenter yourself. Balance, focus, something, to remember that you were supposed to be hitting back. But today he wasn’t going easy, no this wasn’t training.
It was punishment.
For what you’d done.
“Get up.”
You flinch at his sharp tone, mask long forgotten on the floor. No weapons, nothing but his leather gloves fists impacting with your skull.
Gravel crunched as the toes of his boots squared your heaving shoulders. You couldn’t do it, you were so tired. It hurt to love, you couldn’t stand up again and try to parry his attacks. There was no use-you sniffled a loud ball of snot, gasping before slowly glancing at his ankles.
“Please, Kylo,” you wanted to reach out, grasp at him. Feel the black fabric beneath your fingertips, dig your nails into the alabaster flesh that you had tried so hard to bruise like he had to you.
He scoffed, moving the toe of his left boot under your chin. Another ugly sob fell from your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, “Pathetic.”
You braced yourself, knowing he wasn’t done. The swift kick of his foot to the square of your chest is like water rushing through your burst eardrums. Being shoved repeatedly under the surface over and over.
A gloved hand wrangled a knot in your blood-caked hair, yanking you up on your feet. You cracked open an eye, not finding the rage you felt under your skin. Instead, you were met with something much scarier.
Ren was bored-eyes glassy and dull.
Barely looking at you like you had a purpose, he no longer cares if you lived after this. And you wanted that back, you wanted the anger that sparked behind those auburn eyes.
Those same eyes that watched you in battle, begging for you to stay focused. For you to remember to come back to him.
“Hit me,” his voice cracked through your memory, your eyes refocusing on the man before you. Waiting, an eyebrow cocked as he shook you again. “Go on, you know you’re not allowed to give up when an enemy is attacking you. So hit me.”
You shook your head, a pitiful no falling. You couldn’t do it, not when you knew how little you meant. Never enough, “I cant…”
Ren snarled in your face, another harsh shake, “Do it, you spineless little rat-I know you want to.” He stared, jaw wiggling from side to side. But you didn’t move, couldn't. Even if you truly wanted to, letting your guard completely down.
“Haven’t you had enough?”
Your voice caught him off guard, almost recoiling from the sandpaper texture that rolled off your tongue. The same tongue that once laved at his own, lips attaching to wounds in an attempt to heal…
“Have you?”
Your hand shook as you raised it to your scalp, twitching to touch the leather. He let go of you like you were the plague, dropping on your knees in a high-pitched squeal of pain.
Propping yourself on your palms, you blinked down. A string of saliva dripping on the ground, pooling with the rest of your mess. Ren stepped back, “Get up,” his voice was softer.
You barely made it on your two feet, wanting to collapse into his arms. They used to shoot out to catch you, but not anymore. Never again-never.
“Yes,” you whispered, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand.
“I’ve had enough.”
———
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