#yandere todorokis on crack

[thecuriousquest]

Stay Home, Imoto!

Platonic!Yandere Shoto Todoroki x Little Sister!Reader

@melaniemartinez22 I FINALLY FINISHED IT 😭🤘🖤

Request: Yandere Platonic Shoto trying to get the reader to stay home, but the reader doesn't listen, so he locks them up until they are a good sister and won't leave him.

Warnings: Platonic yandere themes, isolation punishment, ear pulling?

Master List

Requests are currently closed. Thank you for your patience.

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You felt so confident in your new outfit, so proud of yourself and feeling at your best. You’re ready to go to the movies with your friends. They’re showing your favorite on the big screen, and you wouldn’t miss it for the world.

But Shoto, your big brother, sees you through the little crack in your door from not shutting it properly. You’re fully dressed, so it’s no big deal.

But to Shoto, this is more than just a big deal.

Suddenly, he can’t stop himself from pushing the door open with his hand and glaring at you.

“What have I told you about closing your door properly? What? Did you get changed with the door like that?” he can’t help but spout question after question.

“I didn’t realize it wasn’t shut. Sorry, bro.”

He’s heard it before, and he’ll probably hear it again.

“Did you know Touya and Natsuo are home? What if they saw you…dressing? Anyone could see you with the way the door was cracked.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not a big deal. I said I’m sorry.”

Anger. Frustration. You’re not listening to him. You’re not being a good girl. You’re not being his good baby sister.

“Watch it.”

“Watch what? The door?” You can’t help but tease with a tiny smirk.

And then he’s grabbing you by your upper arm and spinning you to look at him.

“Don’t. Don’t test me.” He looks you right in the eye, silently daring you to challenge his authority as your older brother.

“Nii, stop it!” You try to shake him off of you.

“Where are you even going dressed like that?”

“To the movies with my friends.”

“Did you ask your Nii-Chan for permission?”

“Touya doesn’t care.”

You know he’s not talking about Touya.

“Try again, Imoto.”

You can’t help your pouty little lips. “Can I go out, Nii?”

He bends down, making you fully aware of the height difference. His bangs sway slightly, he looks you dead in the eyes with his bi-colored orbs.

“No.”

“What? You can’t just say no! You’re not Dad!”

Shoto just laughs at your little outburst, an eerie chuckle that defies what you just said.

“I might as well be with how he’s never here. You’re not going out with your friends. You’re too immature to even be deciding who is a good influence or not, so I don’t trust the people you’re trying to hangout with.”

“The hell, Shoto?! You’re so controlling!”

Bad move. Oh, so fucking bad.

He’s no longer grabbing your bicep. Now, he’s pinching your ear and pulling you in close.

“I’m giving you once chance and one chance only to apologize.”

However, you take that chance and tell him to shove it up his ass.

If his eyes could narrow anymore, they would be akin to razor blades. He pulls you, by your ear, towards the closet. Opening it, he shoves you into your clothes before slamming the door shut. There’s no lock on your closet, so Shoto has to manually act as a lock by keeping it forcefully closed. You bang on the shoji door, try to use your hands to pry the door open.

But Shoto’s on the outside, and Shoto’s always been much stronger than you.

Panic sets in, and tears stream down your face in pathetic rivers.

“Shoto, let me out! Let me out! Nii-Chan!”

You act as if he can’t hear you. He can. He’s just ignoring you.

“You can come out when you apologize and tell me you’ll be good. I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”

You can’t tell if his words are meant to be condescending.

You kick the door out of anger and wipe away your salty tears. What the fuck! None of this is fucking fair!

You just wanted to go to the movies with your friends. How did all of this happen?!

Sliding down the wall, you’re not ready to give in yet. You sit on the floor and wait in agitation. Maybe you can even wait long enough until Shoto gives in.

But it’s dark, and you don’t even have your phone to pass the time, and you’re starting to feel hungry and thirsty, and your ass hurts from sitting on the hardwood floor.

And then two hours pass, at least you think it’s been two hours, and you realize there’s no point now.

“Shoto?”

“Yeah?” your big brother answers back.

“I…I’m sorry for being a brat. I’ll be a good girl now.”

“You’ll be my good little sister, right? You’ll stay home with Nii-Chan?”

“Yes, I’ll stay home with Nii-Chan.”

The door slides open, and it takes your eyes a few moments to adjust. They feel extra sensitive from all of the crying and irritation, but you don’t even care about that right now. You get up and immediately fall into Shoto’s arms, rambling about how you hated being in that closet and how you don’t ever want to go back in there again.

Shoto strokes your hair, making you feel safe, making you feel guilty about how you talked to him. How could you have been like that when he was just looking out for you?

“I only want what’s best for you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, Nii…I know.”

He rubs your back and tells you that you two can watch a movie in his room. You take him up on the offer, and he makes the popcorn while you pick out the film.

And all is right in the world because Nii-Chan has his Imoto right by his side.

#yandere #triggering content #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #triggering themes #yandere x darling #yandere themes #my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #platonic yandere #platonic yandere big brother #yandere big brother #platonic yandere shoto todoroki #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere shoto x reader

[ghostsy]

Dearly Beloved

WARNINGS: yandere, possessiveness, imprisonment, slight infantilization, non-consensual implications, abuse, nsfw, smut, dub/noncon

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! TODOROKI SHOTO X READER

“Please, if you have any information…”

She wanted to throw up. Or pass out. In any particular order she didn’t really care, just anything to stop this. Her legs had long gone numb strewn over his lap, the dewy stains of her despair spilled across his slacks, her hands secured tightly behind her back.

“I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. Whatever joy I had disappeared with her that day. Please, I just want her home. We just want to bring our daughter home. She deserved…she deserves better than this…”

The device responsible for her torture was still buzzing excitedly at the swollen source of agony between her thighs. A sudden silence filled the room, television screen freezing on sobbing faces, and her heart leapt to her throat.

“You’re not paying attention.”

The vibrator clicked off, and his hand came to rest on her thigh, the other still secured around her waist to prop her up, squeezing at her hips. Though, the circles he drew on her skin weren’t in any way a comfort.

She couldn’t see his face from her place in front of the screen, but she hardly had to guess his expression, hardly had to guess his feelings. His reputation preceded him. Hot and Cold. She’d learned through painful trial and error that it was meant in more ways than one.

She licked at her cracked lips, “I am. I am–please–I promise, I am,” Through the breaks, her voice was sugar sweet, innocent, docile. A thinly veiled search for mercy.

“We’ll rewind.” Though, it seemed he would give her none as he coaxed her gaze back to the television in front of them.

Right. There was another source of agony–of torture–he’d been keen on subjecting her to today. It was her fault, she supposed, for being foolish enough to believe that unlocked window to be anything other than a test. A test that she’d, of course, failed. 

“Nearly one year after the sudden disappearance of a Tokyo woman, friends and family are struggling to hold on to hope. Our journalists caught up with…”

She closed her eyes, swallowing the salty tears fighting their way up her throat to join the streams on her cheeks, and opened her mouth to speak, hiccuping on her sobs.

“Please, I’ll–I’m sorry. I can’t take–I’ll never–I won’t–promise I won’t–”

“I don’t see the problem,” He’d made a career out of patronizing her, she’d discovered, “You wanted to see your friends and family, right?” The growing heat on her thigh meant it wasn’t rhetorical. 

She hissed at the burn, forcing a reply through gritted teeth, “I didn’t mean–”

“You didn’t mean…? You’re hardly in a position to be picky,” Shifting his hold on her, the vibrator, still latched to her pulsing clit, clicked on, two of his fingers dipped down, circling her glistening hole, teasing, “I’d say it's plenty gracious of me to give you even this,” Calloused and cold, they shoved themselves inside her, setting an unforgiving pace. 

She nearly keeled over from the sensation, cursing under her breath, “I’m–It wasn’t–Can we please just–”

“You think you’d be happier, right?” His canines grazed her neck, threatening to break through the skin, “That you’d feel better out there. What’s anyone out there ever done for you?” He scoffed, “What have they done to earn your love?” The tremble of his voice reminded her of his barely contained, and building, rage. She had to do something.

“No, that’s not–” She begged with his name on her lips, “I just–I just wanted–”

“All you need to do is convince me,” There was electricity building in her veins, though a pit of dread forming in her stomach, “Your happiness depends on them? I’m really so terrible?” The murmur of the television was turning to static in her ears, “Get through one interview, then,” He huffed out a humorless laugh, “Just one, I promise,” Voice low and sultry, “Without gushing on my fingers while you watch them cry.”

She choked on a sob, but the ache in her limbs and the tightness squeezing its way from her chest to her throat significantly damped any anger she would have–should have–felt. 

“She was my best friend; she wouldn’t have just up and left.”

She just wanted this to be over. Find her panties, curl up under her bed covers, and let the roaring tides in her lungs pour out her eyes, and scream. Scream ‘till she passed out, hoping to find peace in the abyss of unconsciousness.

“Was? Are you saying that you think she’s passed on?”

“...I—Well, it’s not—It’s just, it’s been so long, and I–if we, the people who care about her, are going to have any chance at healing…”

Alas, fate was never so kind to her, and she was reminded of another, more humiliating, tide pooling in her gut.

Two fingers inside her became three, and she bit her tongue to stifle a whimper as they reached that once special, now cursed, spot inside her. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t. It didn’t.

Sighing, he brought the hand around her waist to pet at her hair, “Don’t you see?” He tucked the strands behind her ear, hot breath hitting her skin, “They’ve given up on you. What will it take for you to understand, lovely?”

“I’m just so tired. We all are. But I love her, really I do.”

He snorted, “Love you. They don’t love you,” Angling his face downwards, hair tickling her cheek, “Family. Friends,” She was panting now, eyes going crossed from exertion, “They mean nothing. They are nothing.” She wouldn’t come; she couldn’t. But the clenching of her walls against his fingers betrayed her, and she felt his lips pull into a smirk against her throat.

“There’s just…what else is there left to do? I can’t–I don’t–scouring woods and swamps and–to try and find…try and find what? I just can’t–I can’t do it–I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I can’t–”

“No one takes care of you like I do.” 

Vibrator still buzzing, a numbing, pulsing, ache formed between her legs, and his fingers, wet and crystalline, sped their pace, squelching as they fucked in and out of her weeping entrance. There was a ringing in her ears as she felt the floodgates start to open. Please no. Not again. 

What would they say if they could see her now? Mewling and moaning like a whore on her captor’s fingers while their worlds upended? How disgusting she was–if only her body agreed. 

“Take your time. If this is too hard–”

“No. I can at least do this for her. So people remember her. Remember her name. She would have wanted at least that.”

“No one knows you like I do.”

He was trailing wet kisses up her neck, tongue and teeth coming together to form scattered bruises in his path. Her thighs were spasming, flexing in an attempt to stave off the waves of pleasure threatening to drown her.

“It’s clear how much she means to you. How lucky she must have felt to have someone care about her so deeply.”

“No one loves you like I do.”

His teeth sunk into her earlobe, and her vision went white, nerves exploding as her walls clenched, desperately, gratefully, if not ashamedly, fluttering around his digits for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Though the relief, like any momentary pleasure he’d bestowed upon her, unwilling or otherwise, was short lived. Coming down from her high, she blinked away the tears weighing on her lashes, and blurring her vision, lungs heaving in an attempt to gather her bearings. The vibrator clicked off, and his fingers pulled themselves from her, dewy and gleaming.

“Suck.” He pushed them through her lips, and she choked on their length, licking at the sticky substance, and swallowing to assuage his anger. He removed them with a pop, and she held her breath, praying to whatever god she did or didn’t believe in that he would release her. He’d made his point, right? 

“I’m…I’m sorry,” She gulped in air to stifle the shake in her voice, and nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck, wetting the skin with her tears, pathetic, “I won’t–”

“You didn’t think we were finished did you?” Her heart dropped to her stomach, “You’ve failed to convince me, you know.” 

“I’m convinced!” She winced, realizing the volume, but found he was waiting for her to continue, “I’m…I’m convinced. You were right. I shouldn’t have tried to leave…I wasn’t–I wasn’t thinking.”

The second of silence was months long, but a soft laugh tinged with delirium broke through the static noise. Cold fingers clutched at her jaw, angling her face towards his own.

Forced to meet his gaze, she hated to admit it, but he was so pretty. The allure of mystery twinkled in those mismatched eyes, hiding the promise of something no man or woman or person could possibly hope to resist.

“No,” Sighing, his free hand squeezed at her waist, “No, you were never really good at that, were you?” She nearly didn’t hear him, lost to her thoughts, wallowing in self pity and hate; why hadn’t she seen it before?

She just wished she could have left well enough alone. Let that mystery pass her by unsolved. A promise can be hollow, she’d learned; a vortex of nothing that pulls you into the blackness, greedy in its emptiness to steal any soul or love or light from its captive, leaving them to drown in the inky darkness, dead, but never alone.

A stinging pinch at her side motivated her to sputter out the prompted answer.

“At what?”

“Thinking.”

She could say something, she realized. Anything. Anything but what she knew she’d let slip from her lips. Fucking coward.

“No,” Coward, “No, I wasn’t–I’m–No, I’m not.” 

He hummed, eyes twinkling, amused, “Anything else?”

Her teeth sunk into her lip, bloated and salted with her tears, canines piercing through the skin to let drops of red bubble to the surface. Still, she forced out another meek placation.

 “I’m sorry,” But cowards don’t get burnt and they don’t get frostbite and they don’t get hurt, “I’ll–I’ve learned my–my lesson, now. I promise, please–”

“It’s cute that you think anything you say matters,” Cowards don’t get hurt, she reminded herself, but the stinging of shattered pride in her chest argued otherwise, “Besides,” He motioned towards the television, “We’re not even halfway through.”

No. No no no. She’d done what he’d said, hadn’t she? Please. No more. The knot in her throat was making it hard to breathe, twisting and growing, “Please–”

He sighed as he shifted a bit behind her, and she felt it, more present than before, “What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t follow through on my promises, lovely?” The clink of a belt buckle ripped at her heart, “And, really, how can I resist,” Fingers trailed back down to swipe at her puffy and abused and dripping entrance before pulling away, flexing his fingers as the dewy substance stuck in webs to the digits, “When you’re practically begging for it.”

She felt like a ragdoll, what little fight or resistance or hope beaten and torn from inside her. A firm hand bruised her waist as he lifted her, and shuffled out of his pants. He turned her face back towards the screen, a trail of frost creeping at her jawline as he released her.

“If there’s anything you’d say to her if you could–anything you think she’d want to hear…”

“There’s just one thing.”

Something too big and too hard and too familiar prodded at her sore and tired entrance, and her fingernails made crescent moons in her tied palms.

“Wherever you are. Whatever happened.”

The wetness allowed him to slide in rather easily, but the girth was accompanied by a burning stretch. She should have been used to this by now, and while the feel of his cock throbbing inside her was all too familiar, she found herself dizzy, unfocused, nauseous. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to scream, but that inky blackness of his had filled her lungs. 

“I hope you’re somewhere warm and bright, even if it’s above the clouds.”

She was drowning. Drowning and hurting, and clawing for just a hint of light from the abyss of broken promises. Wasn’t drowning supposed to be peaceful? How long did she have to wait until it was peaceful? 

“I hope you’ve found peace.”

“Oh,” He sighed as he bottomed out inside her, “This is my favorite part.”

Her limbs felt heavy, and she felt so tired. Was this the good part? Give up and it won’t hurt. Give up and let him do as he pleased. Give up and drown prettily. Become as empty and hollow as the pit she was trapped in, and the hurt would stop. Feelings and pain and everything. Make it stop.

“And I promise, I won’t ever stop loving you.”

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere todoroki #yandere todoroki shoto #yandere todoroki shouto #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere todoroki x reader #yandere shoto x reader #yandere shouto x reader #yandere todoroki shoto x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere todoroki shouto x reader

[artemis32]

Transilience II

Yandere Todoroki family x reader

Eventually huh?? this took forever but are any of us actually surprised :))

I’m not really all that happy with this but oh well, enjoy

word count - 11.3k

****

tw: mentions of past child neglect, panic attacks, abuse, stalking, kidnapping, the whole family is literally their own tw (they’re horrible but i love them)

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part I

bnha masterlist

****

****

A part of you, however miniscule, wished you’d remained unconscious - for another month at least.

That would be better than having to sit through what must have been the hundredth police interview you’d had since waking up. They were never-ending - as soon as the doctors had cleared you and allowed more than two visitors at a time, they’d been flowing through the door as if drawn to you.

You supposed that it was necessary, you just wished that they would stop asking you the same three questions.

Did you see anything strange before you were taken? Yes, a bright light.

Do you remember their faces? No, I was unconscious.

How did you develop a quirk? 

That last question annoyed you the most. How were you supposed to know how you magically developed a quirk? Honestly, it was ridiculous - they asked you a question, you answered truthfully, but they wouldn’t leave you alone.

Regardless, you were looking forward to being released. Not that you were overly eager to return home, especially since you were unsure of what awaited you. You just wanted to be back in a more familiar environment - one that didn’t have people flowing in and out as they pleased.

Though now that you had a quirk, there had been mentions of keeping you under surveillance for a while longer. While you understood their concerns, you were already irritable enough from having people in your space at all hours of the day. Any longer and you might well lose your mind.

Ironically enough, that was what everyone had been trying to avoid.

Having a quirk was incredible, but having developed it so late in your life, you had less control over it than a child would, especially since it wasn’t exactly natural - or at least that’s what the doctors had been telling you.

Besides mentioning that you should be kept under surveillance, there had been no mention of exactly who would be watching you. 

You didn’t want to know, but you were sure that they wouldn’t grant you the kindness of ignorance.

****

Returning home wasn’t as exciting as you’d thought it would be.

It wasn’t as if you were expecting a welcoming party. You weren’t even expecting anyone to be home. But you thought something might have changed. Any change, even a negative one, would have been better than everything remaining exactly the same.

You dumped your bag on the floor as soon as you stepped into your bedroom, nudging the door closed with your foot. 

Everything looked the same. Not one item was out of place.

Your bed was still neatly made, windows cracked open slightly, books stacked high on your desk. Even the jacket you’d tossed onto your bed before leaving was laying in the exact same place.

Shoulders slumped, you made your way to your bed and sat down heavily. 

While your family may not have treated you well, at least they hadn’t shoved you into some small cupboard. Even if he hadn’t treated you well, your bedroom and belongings were the only things you felt as though you owed your father for - a kindness he probably didn’t owe you.

Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d even notice if you purchased something. His overflowing mountain of money would be difficult to dent, even if you went on an unrestricted spree with his card.

You flopped down on your back, staring up at the ceiling. 

The walls were a neutral light grey, nothing overly colourful or special. 

Just like you.

You flinched at your own thoughts.

The only thing that gave your room any personality was the glow in the dark stars stuck to your ceiling.

Years prior, Fuyumi had offered to redecorate your room. You had a feeling that it wasn’t out of the kindness of her heart.

You’d felt panicked and hurriedly told her no. She’d given you a strange look, one that you had ignored at the time.

No matter what changed throughout the years, your room was one thing you’d fight to keep the same.

****

Touya had spent a lot of time with you before he died.

Personally, you’d always thought that you were his favourite sibling. Not that you ever had the chance to ask.

He would spend his entire evening with you, everyday like clockwork.

At dinner, he’d sit to your right, between you and your mother. Shoto would sit to your left, next to your father.

He would talk to you, ask about your day, about what you’d done at school.

The fact that you were four and your stories hardly varied day-to-day never bothered him. He’d listen to your rambling words with rapt attention, gaze never straying from your own.

Touya took over your nightly routine when Rei began slipping. He kept you away from her when he saw the subtle hatred she had for you.

After dinner, he’d make sure you bathed, dressed, and brushed your teeth. He would occasionally read to you too, but often he’d just sit with you until you fell asleep, softly petting your hair.

One day, he decided that your ceiling was far too boring, and he surprised you with a pack of glow in the dark stars, as well as some themed stickers and a large bag of candy.

They were cheap, and for anyone else they may not have meant much, but for you, especially in the years following those, it meant the world.

You had many of his personal items from before he died too, not willing to part with them.

After a few years had passed, they’d been shoved to the back of your closet. While you wanted to hold on to a piece of him, it became difficult. Thinking about the fact that you’d lost the only person in your life that could tolerate you wasn’t a pleasant thought.

Regardless, the stars stayed. The stickers peeled away as the paint flaked, and his belongings were stowed away, but the stars remained.

****

After staring up at the ceiling became more of a chore than a bored pastime, you sat up and looked around your room.

It had been nearly three hours since you’d gotten back, and still, no one was home. 

Usually, you’d stay in your room or leave the house, but after everything that had happened, you were apprehensive of straying too far away from the safety of your house. It may not have been the most welcoming, but it was better than whatever lay beyond the front door.

You didn’t want to test your luck anymore than you already had.

Staying in your room wasn’t high on your list of priorities either. 

Well, I am kind of hungry, and no one else is home... Might as well raid the kitchen while I have the chance.

The sound of your footsteps is muffled by your slippers, the dull thuds filling up the empty hallways as you make your way to the kitchen.

You take your time searching through the pantry and fridge, in no hurry to scamper back to the confines of your bedroom. Your parents may have been kind enough to give you a decent sized room, but they were sure to shove you into the furthest, loneliest area of the house.

Perhaps that hadn’t been their intention originally - your room was right next to what used to be Touya’s bedroom. Of course, after he passed, your small bubble of safety grew to become incredibly isolated. Your father had his own wing of the house, even more solitary than your own with only Shoto nearby for company - not that your brother wanted to spend more time with him than what was required - and Fuyumi and Natsuo had their own comfortable wing of the house.

So you took your time in the common area, sitting cross legged on the floor as you peered around the bottom shelves of the large pantry.

Twenty minutes later, you decided on a large bowl of fruit. Just as you were contemplating whether or not to eat it in the kitchen or return to your room, someone let out a noise behind you. You turned, shoulders tensed, and-

“Shoto.”

Your twin brother, older by no more than ten minutes, looks almost shocked to see you, his brows lifted slightly, covered by his dual coloured fringe.

He says nothing, still silently staring at you. 

His presence makes you uncomfortable. He was little more than a stranger to you at this point - you hadn’t held a conversation with him for longer than five minutes in years, especially when he seemed to stare you down silently for minutes every time you tried to talk to him.

“I was just looking for something to eat. The food in the hospital isn’t great and I’m hungry, so…”

You're not sure why you feel the need to justify your presence to him, but something about the way he’s staring at you compels you to speak even if you have nothing to say.

The silence between the two of you becomes almost unbearable, and you're about to say something, anything to fill the oppressive silence, but the two of you are interrupted.

Your father walks in, seemingly preoccupied with his thoughts. Though he seems distracted, he notices the two of you almost immediately. The atmosphere instantly shifts. It had been awkward before, but now, it was ten times worse.

“Ah, Shoto…” he trails off awkwardly, barely acknowledging you.

He seems uncomfortable, unwilling to meet your eyes, keeping his gaze trained on the floor.

A part of you wants to feel satisfied with his reaction, his seemingly ashamed attitude. But all you feel is an overwhelming sense of anger, of injustice.

After everything that’s happened, he still won’t even look me in the eye. Pathetic.

Just as Shoto opens his mouth to speak, just as you prepare to excuse yourself, the three of you are interrupted, Fuyumi walking in with her head down, going through her bag in search of something.

“Dad, have you seen my keys, I could have sworn they were just in my bag…”

She doesn’t take note of the uncomfortable tension until she looks up, her sentence dying out halfway through.

“Oh.”

Her arms drop down to her sides as the four of you stand silently, each person too lost in their own discomfort to say anything.

Fuyumi is the first to break the silence, and she shocks you by addressing you directly.

“I, um, I’m making dinner tonight, if you’re feeling up to it, I hope you’ll join us. Natsuo and Shoto are both home too, so everyone will be there.”

You aren't sure what to say, so you just nod, still staring at your father. 

He’s the first to leave, walking out without a word. You leave next, abandoning your snack on the counter in favour of returning to your room. Your hunger had long since disappeared, replaced instead by a sick feeling at the bottom of your stomach.

****

Your quirk wasn’t anything particularly exciting - not that you would ever complain. 

A mundane, somewhat common quirk was better than nothing, you knew that better than anyone.

Nevertheless, you knew that your quirk was relatively average, and genetically speaking, it made sense. Considering the fact that your father was a pyrokinetic and your mother was a cryokinetic, it felt as though you were the middle ground between the two. 

Your quirk was the most simplified version of theirs that could be found.

Telekinesis wasn’t an awful quirk by any stretch, and the doctors, after several rounds of tests, had reassured you of that. They had told you that currently, you were at the level of a child, a five-year-old who had just received their quirk.

With time, you would gain better control over your abilities, pushing the boundaries and perhaps you could even surpass your father in terms of control.

The doctor who had dealt with you the most often - Dr Takahashi, or Kosuke as he insisted - was someone who specialised in unusual quirk development. He seemed delighted when he first met you, his eyes sparkling with a childlike wonder you hadn’t seen in many years. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought that he was more excited about your sudden quirk development than you were.

He conducted many tests and told you many things, each more anxiety inducing than the last. He made it clear that his goal consisted of two things. 

First, to make sure that you could properly handle your quirk. No one wanted you to accidentally injure someone else or yourself because your emotions ran wild and you lost control.

Secondly, he wanted to learn as much about your sudden and impossible development of a quirk as he could. He told you that he had high hopes for the development of your quirk, that he was eager to see exactly how versatile it could be. He hoped, with enough time and control, you’d be able to manipulate and influence things on a molecular level. 

You were just content to have a quirk, to be normal. You didn’t care much for becoming someone’s science experiment.

He’d been transparent about his motives from the very first day you’d met him, and that meant that you trusted him far more than you trusted any of the other doctors who claimed they wanted to help you. You knew they all held a morbid curiosity towards you and your abilities, but at least Kosuke was honest about it.

You knew better than to trust them.

****

The atmosphere was tense and oppressive. You shift in your seat slightly, eyes trained on the tabletop, as if it would crack open and suck you in at any moment. You wished it would.

Fuyumi clears her throat, leaning forward slightly. 

“How’s the food? Natsuo told me all of your favourites, I tried to make them as accurate as I could. I’m not sure how you usually like it...”

She trailed off. 

It didn’t seem possible, but somehow, her comment had made dinner even more awkward.

And you were about to make it worse. Much worse.

After a moment of silence, you spoke quietly, still staring down at the tabletop.

“The doctors said that it would be best if I remained under observation for a while, I’m sure you’re all aware of that.”

There’s a pause, almost questioning, but you don’t wait for anyone to speak.

“They recommended - or rather, they were advised - that I stay with... professionals.”

Your family seems to be holding their breath, even your father is completely focused on your words. You don’t want to disrupt the calm that has settled over your home. 

It may have been tense and awkward, but it was better than having to walk on eggshells around your own home. But regardless of what you wanted, this was something that had to be said - there was just no avoiding it.

“They advised that I be sent to UA. The principal, Mr Nezu, has asked for me to be placed under his watch for the next few months at least. Well, not under him specifically - rather, with All Might.”

The air became uncomfortably warm, not that it affected anyone but you.

Fuyumi and Natsuo both had ice quirks, and Shoto was perfectly capable of regulating his own body temperature. None of them felt the scorching heat emanating from where your father sat at the head of the table.

You lean back in your seat, try to escape the waves of scalding air now filling the room.

“Absolutely not.”

Remaining silent seems to backfire, fueling your father’s anger.

He slams his hand down onto the tabletop, cutlery and crockery rattling from the force. You’re sure the table is cracked.

“You will not be going. Not only are you unstable, unable to control your... quirk, you’re also my child, and I won’t have that spectacle of a hero watching over you.”

The word hero is spat with such venom that you’re sure it’ll burn through the tabletop, much like his hand, steaming and smouldering as it sinks into the expensive wood as if it’s nothing more than butter.

A small part of you thinks that you should be offended by his words, by the fact that he seems to view you more as property than a living, breathing human being. You are offended.

But you’re more concerned with his not-so-subtle jab at your quirk.

Maybe you should bite your tongue, accept his words and look for another solution. You should at least try and keep the peace. You should, you know you should.

But you don’t.

“I know my quirk is unstable, that’s why I need to be with people that actually know how to help me control it. I’m not going to this school to have fun, I’m going there because I don’t have a choice.” 

Your voice remains steady and even, but you can tell that it burns, much like Endeavour's flames. 

Ironically, that’s probably as close as you’d ever get to having any similarities to your father.

Your siblings still remain silent, watching as your father’s anger unfolds before them.

He stands, towering over you, trying to intimidate you. 

It works. No matter how much you may have changed, physically or mentally, you were still scared of your father. But this was something you couldn’t back down on.

“You will not be going. That is final.”

Years of being treated as a pariah in your home has taught you a lot, namely how to control your emotions in difficult times. But no matter how much control you display outwardly, your newfound quirk betrays your mental state.

“Like I’ve already said, neither of us really have a choice. I’m going, whether you like it or not.” 

Fuyumi finally speaks up, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Calm down, calm down, you’re making everything fly around.”

True to her words, the cutlery and crockery are floating around the room, spinning rapidly around your heads. 

You take a deep breath and everything falls, landing with a crash back on to the table. 

Without waiting for permission, you stand up from your seat and leave, escaping to your room.

You had a lot of packing to do.

****

You decided that packing would have to wait until things calmed down, not wanting to incite another argument with your father. Rather, you settled for laying in bed, arms straight by your sides as you lay on your back.

Sleep had eluded you for the past few hours, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sit up or leave your room. So you lay there in silence, trying not to think about anything specific, instead letting your mind stagnate.

What would mom say if she was here now?

No, not mom - Touya, what would he say?

Your mind is a mess, and you try in vain to sort through the jumbled pieces. 

Putting on a tough face was easy enough when the people around you didn’t care about making sure that you were okay, and usually you’d be able to sort through your problems and inner turmoil on your own.

Really, nothing has changed, so you should be able to think straight. But you can’t. 

For some reason, one you’re blind to, you feel overwhelmed, and your breathing turns laboured.

You lay there in the dark, the sound of your panicked gasps filling the room, hot tears rolling down your temples.

It had been a while since you’d last felt this way, felt so helpless and agitated. You roll onto your side, curling into a tight ball, arms and legs tucked tightly into your stomach.

Scrunching your eyes closed, you try to take a deep breath, and it shudders through you, shaking your crumpled frame.

The past few days had engulfed you, but you’d been too caught up in the moment to truly process anything. Evidently, this was the moment that everything hit you at once.

You realise now how scared you were, how out of depth you felt.

Touya’s hand was warm on your shoulder, his arm wrapped around you tightly. He always felt like a furnace, as if he had a constant fever. It felt nice; comforting and familiar.

“Don’t cry, shh, shh.”

His calloused palm smooths itself over your cheek, wiping away the tears staining your face.

“Come on, pretty girl, don’t cry now.”

You sniffled slightly, clutching his shirt in your fists, burying your face into his chest.

“They hate me.”

He sighs heavily, arms coming to wrap around your head. He’s silent for a moment, contemplating his words carefully.

“They don’t hate you, I promise you. Hey, look at me.” He demands.

You do. 

Of course you do. You do whatever Touya asks of you - he says jump, you say how high.

He gives you a soft smile, ruffling your hair lightly.

“I love you. Tell me.”

“You love me Touya.”

“Is that enough?”

You nod in the self-assured way that all children do, so sure that your big brother would never lie to you.

“They might not show it in the best way, but they love you too. Dad, Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shoto - they all love you so much, too much.”

You’re hesitant, unsure of his words. But he’s never lied to you, so you try your best to believe him.

He cracks a smile, the large grin splitting his face, eyes wrinkling on either side.

“But I love you more, you got that?”

He lightly digs his fingers into your sides, and you screech out loudly, giggling as he continues his assault.

“I didn’t hear a yes.” He says in a singsong voice.

“Y-Yes Touya-nii, I understand, I understand!”

You manage to get the words out through small shrieks and giggles, trying to slink out of his grasp. 

He pulls you close, smothering you in a hug. He sighs heavily when you hug him back, the puff of air he lets out mussing your hair. 

The memory calms you, breathing evened out, tears drying up.

You had many memories with Touya, but that one, one from mere months before he’d passed - it always stuck out more than the others. 

It was your happy place, something you thought of whenever you got too overwhelmed.

You still feel overwhelmed and anxious, but at least you’ve stopped shaking. 

The dried tears make your cheeks feel sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to move, let alone get up and wash your face.

You fall asleep still curled up in a tight ball, limbs tucked into your stomach.

****

It had been a week since you’d told your father what Dr Takahashi had advised, and you’d gone out of your way to avoid him and your siblings. 

You’d been cooped up in your room for the vast majority of that time, leaving only to use the bathroom or raid the kitchen for food. 

It felt cowardly to hide away and avoid your problems, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when dealing with it caused more problems than it solved. 

Distractions didn’t come easily. You’d spent more time than you’d care to admit staring at the ceiling or out the window. The view had lost its charm after the second day.

Now, a week later, you decided to stop hiding away like a hermit and instead act as if nothing had happened - or at least act more maturely than you had been.

Still, you left your room cautiously, peering down the long, dark hallways as if there was a terrible monster lurking within your house. 

You suppose that in a sense, there probably was.

The kitchen, thankfully, was deserted, quiet and clean as it usually was.

You distract yourself by filling a glass with water, the clear trickle of water the only sound in the empty space.

Leaning against the cool countertop, you slowly sip at your drink, eyeing the spotless kitchen with a disinterested eye. 

If nothing else, Fuyumi had filled your mother’s shoes well, having taken over as somewhat of a caretaker after she had been sent away. Your father employed various maids and chefs on occasion, but Fuyumi oversaw a lot of the household work when she was available.

Similarly to your mother, she never showed much interest in you beyond feeding you. 

The thought should have stung, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel very strongly about it anymore.

You’re so deep in thought, you barely notice your father entering the kitchen, Fuyumi close behind him, both of them carrying grocery bags while holding a quiet conversation.

The sight of him, standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms filled with bags of produce; it throws you off.

He looks so normal, so domestic, it almost convinces you that he isn’t as bad as you’ve always believed - that none of them are so bad. He’s dressed casually, jeans and a black polo neck shirt. 

Sometimes, if you pretend hard enough, you can almost trick yourself into believing that you’re part of a normal, happy family. One that has dinner together every night, one that holds family trips and movie nights, a family that actually cares about one another beyond whatever twisted sense of duty your family seems to have.

Of course, that wasn’t possible, and the reality of your family was quite different.

Fuyumi is next to you now, eagerly attempting to converse with you, her hand resting gently against your forearm and she leans closer.

You flinch back, only slightly, but she notices nonetheless, retracting her hand a moment later. 

Now’s as good a time as any.

Whatever your sister had been saying falls on deaf ears as you interrupt her, addressing your father with a clipped tone.

“About the other day - have you changed your mind yet?”

It’s innocent enough, posed as a nonchalant inquiry, one brought up in passing. 

Only, you’re gripping the glass in a vice grip, knuckles turning white, and your eyebrows are slightly pinched together, wrinkling faintly. 

Truthfully, you feel as though you’ve been wound up tight, like a spring. It’s all you can do to stop your hands from shaking - even worse, you have a suffocating hold over your quirk, forcing it down even as you panic.

Enji hums lightly, not looking your way as he sets his bags down on the countertop opposite you, his broad shoulders relaxed, his demeanour passive.

He turns to you then, and looks you in the eye. He searches your face, looking for something for a moment, and he seems to find whatever it is he’s looking for because he huffs and shakes his head, slowly making his way towards you with heavy steps.

Your father approaches you as if you’re some frightened animal, stopping a few steps away as he crosses his arms over his broad chest, muscles bulging, straining against the fabric of his shirt.

“If you truly need to train as the doctors have said, then you may train with me.”

Protests begin falling from your lips before he’s even finished his sentence, and you see his eyebrows quirk with irritation.

He raises a massive palm, silencing you with one look while he shakes his head. 

If you didn’t know any better, you might have said he looked disappointed.

He speaks again once he’s sure you won’t interrupt.

"You'll train with me or not at all."

Something flashes inside of you then - anger or frustration or something similar. His selfishness truly knew no bounds, that much was clear.

"I'm not Shoto - I’m not Touya. You treat me like him - you treat me worse than you treated him, but no matter how much you force it, I am not him."

He steps forward, moving faster than your brain can register.

The entire left side of your face burns, stinging from the force of his calloused palm connecting with your cheek.

There’s a ringing in your left ear, and a gentle prod of your tongue reveals that your lip has been split open. You feel disorientated, and you’re surprised you didn’t fall down when he hit you.

You laugh then. Silently, humourlessly.

When your gaze meets his, he looks shocked, all the blood having left his face. A quick glance at Fuyumi shows that she’s just as shocked, one hand clenched in front of her stomach, the other covering her mouth which is twisted into a horrified expression. 

Your father opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he gets the words out.

“You like to act like it, but you haven’t changed one bit.”

Pushing past him is easy, he doesn't try to stop you, not even calling out to you as you grab a jacket from the coat rack near the entrance and leave, slamming the front door behind you.

****

You walk around aimlessly, staring blankly into the storefronts of various shops.

After you’d left home, you got on to the first bus that had come by, getting off only once the walls had felt more suffocating than safe.

Where you were now, you had no idea.

Some or other business district, if you had to wager a guess. There were a few smaller stores and bars littered out amongst the highrise buildings, though the streets were mostly deserted. You hadn’t seen very many people, even after hours of meandering about.

You’d been walking around for a while, and the sun was close to setting now. The buildings around you were bathed in an eerie red-tinged glow, almost as if covered in blood. 

As much as you hated to admit it, you were lost.

You were lost, and you didn’t have a phone. Hell, you barely had enough money for the bus fare back home - however far that may be.

Despite the dire circumstances, your panic felt strangely muted. Perhaps you’d exhausted your quota for negative emotions in this lifetime. The thought amused you.

Your face ached, and if you have to guess, your cheek was probably swollen and red from where your father had struck you hours earlier.

Trying to ignore the pain had worked well at first, though that was probably because you were running high off of adrenaline. Now though, the pain had set in, knocking you in full force, and your jaw throbbed horribly.

After weighing your options carefully, you decided that the best use for the last of your money would be to buy an ice pack.

You’d manage to find a way home, one way or another. Or maybe you’d continue to wander around for a while longer. Either way, the insistent pounding in your face was more important than returning home.

Finding a convenience store was easy enough, and you slinked into the first one you came across, the bell above the door jingling loudly. The noise made your head hurt.

For a store in the centre of a business district, it was surprisingly unkempt. Lights flickered oddly, the windows were mostly blacked out, and there were piles of merchandise stacked precariously throughout the small store.

You ignored your sense of unease, instead slipping through the store silently, making a beeline towards the freezers shoved in the corner. 

The store may have been small and cramped, but at least it was clean. The sliding door moves smoothly, and a gush of cold air hits you as you reach into the freezer, grabbing the first ice pack you see.

As you make your way through the store, browsing to see if they had any snacks cheap enough to fit in your restricted budget, the bell above the door tinkled. You wince softly, ears still ringing loudly.

The old man really didn’t hold back. He hasn’t hit me like that in years.

Finally, you find a stack of cheap energy bars near the opposite end of the store. Grabbing a few, you make your way towards the counter.

The customer before you stands hunched over, a hood covering his head. He drops two cans and a packet of chips on the counter, tossing the money down afterwards. The cashier seems bored, his face flat and eyes dead.

After handing back his change, the cashier's eyes slide to you and you step forward, nearly colliding with the customer in front of you.

“Watch it.” He hisses at you.

You mumble out a few apologies, head tilted downwards, eyes trained on the floor.

He scoffs and makes his way to the door, meeting who you assume to be a friend. He throws you one last dirty look before the pair leaves, the door slamming shut behind them with a bang.

You don’t bother trying to hold a conversation with the man behind the counter, instead just pushing your items forward gently and handing him the money. You’re quick to leave after you’ve paid.

The cold of the ice pack seems to seep into your bones, numbing your cheek and jaw. It feels amazing, and you have to stop yourself from moaning out as it numbs the pain.

You curse yourself for not carrying more money - painkillers would have helped a lot at the moment, but you had to settle for a quickly melting ice pack and a cheap snack instead.

The few energy bars you’d managed to pay for were shoved into the pocket of your jacket, one hand clenching them, the other holding the pack to your face. 

You pull the door open and dart outside, careful not to trip on the slight step in front of the store. You stand still for a moment, deliberating on which direction you should take.

A glance to your right, towards the busier part of the neighbourhood, shows the two men from earlier, lingering near the entrance of the store. You quickly decide to go left, hopping down the step and hurrying along the sidewalk.

As reluctant as you were to go towards the less populated area of the city centre, you weren’t eager to walk past the man from earlier either. Something about him made your hair stand on end.

Checking left and then right, you quickly dart across the road, risking a glance behind you.

The two men are gone.

You huff out a light laugh.

I’m so paranoid. God, that’s so embarrassing.

Regardless of the now empty street, you continue on in the direction you were walking. Having a quirk, especially one like yours, it made you feel safe. Even though you didn’t have the best control over it, it was better than being quirkless and defenceless.

The sun had set by now, and though there were many street lights, very few of them actually worked. The street was bathed in darkness, though your eyes adjusted quickly.

You should be concerned, you know that you should be - you’re alone, lost and in pain. But you feel somewhat weightless, almost free. 

There’s a small skip in your step as you walk down the winding street, taking random turns and corners, not paying attention to your surroundings as much as you should. By now, the roads have become narrower, the buildings taller.

You’re in your own head, playing over the events of the day, when you hear the slight patter of footsteps behind you. 

Something in your gait falters, and you fight the urge to stop and look around. 

Perhaps you’re being paranoid, perhaps it’s nothing, but you’d rather be sure.

There are no corners or turns for a while, the street you’re on is long and narrow, so you decide to slip through the alleyway up ahead.

As you turn into the alleyway, you chance a glance behind you.

Nothing.

There’s no one there.

The street is empty, devoid of any life form other than you.

You clench the now limp ice pack in your hand, shaking your head slightly.

When did I become so paranoid?

You puff out your cheeks, holding your breath for a long moment before slowly releasing it. Under different circumstances, you might have laughed at yourself.

A short glance into the alleyway confirms that it leads to the next street over, so you decide to take it as a shortcut instead of walking around the cluster of buildings. It’s nearly pitch black, the dim light from the street lamps not reaching this far into the backstreets.

Stuffing the melted ice pack into your other pocket, you relax your shoulders and start making your way through the alleyway.

The sound of your footsteps echoes around you, bouncing from wall to wall.

You’re about a third of the way through the alley when your skin prickles painfully and you stop dead in your tracks.

There’s no noise, no movement, nothing to warrant the sudden fear you feel. But as much as you try to convince yourself, you can’t seem to move, rooted in place with terror.

Sucking up your pride, you turn to leave the alley and-

You’re face to face with a man.

At least, you assume it’s a man.

He’s tall, but that’s the extent of what you can see. His face is covered by a mask and he wears a brightly coloured coat and a ridiculous looking tophat. There isn’t even a sliver of skin visible, every inch of him covered by extravagant clothing.

His fashion choices are the least of your worries though. He stands casually, leaning against the wall of the alleyway.

It might have looked like he was outside for a break or some air, but the way his body is positioned, leaning towards you, ready and waiting, the way he covers the nearest exit from the alley - he has you trapped.

You don’t wait for him to speak or move. Instead, you take off running towards the far end of the alley.

His laugh is deep, the sound of it reverberating around you. 

It’s a mocking sound, and it seems to chase after you as you run.

Whether or not he was innocent didn’t matter, his presence set off alarm bells in your head, and you’d rather be wrong and hurt his feelings than end up dead, or worse.

Only, you don’t make it very far before you’re skidding to a halt, trying not to crash into the man before you.

He grins widely, the scaled skin of his face stretching. What alarms you more than his menacing smile on his face is what appears to be a sword strapped to his back.

For one terrifying moment, your mind goes blank. You can’t think or move, and you stand there like a deer in headlights.

Thankfully, your body doesn’t fail you, some deeply buried instinct rising up to protect you as the scaled man approaches you, still smiling widely.

The alleyway, littered with junk and cardboard boxes, still feels cramped. But you thank the mess surrounding you as your quirk sends pieces of metal and plastic flying towards the man as he nears you.

His arms rise to protect his face as he’s pelted with scraps.

The man behind you seems to be more agile, gracefully weaving through the onslaught of rubbish being thrown his way.

You try to run again, slipping past the man still being attacked by your quirk. He tries to reach for you but you scamper out of the way.

Only, your efforts aren’t enough, and you feel yourself slowing down.

Am I slowing down?

No…

Your surroundings seem to become bigger, the exit of the alley growing further away with every step.

Except nothing was moving - you were shrinking, being encased in some type of blue shell.

The masked man, now ten times larger than you, picks you up with a light laugh. He says something to his companion, who is no longer being pelted with litter, before slipping you into his pocket.

Panic clogs up your throat, so thick and slimy that you can barely breathe.

You feel weightless for a short moment, and then you’re being moved again, the man taking you out of his pocket and placing you on the floor.

Returning to your original size happens rapidly, and you sway in place as you try to shake off the dizziness in your head.

“Ah, please wait here for a moment, you’ll meet the others shortly.”

You’re disorientated, confused as the masked man from before slips out of the room. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you collapse. The floor is dusty and the room is small. The smell of mildew fills your lungs uncomfortably as you look around the room. 

It’s cramped, barely large enough for three people. You could probably touch the two opposite walls from your position on the floor.

Your mind runs rampant with what ifs and you wonder if you’re going to die soon. For all your bravado, having a quirk had done nothing to help you protect yourself. Shame flooded your mind and you had to bite back tears - both from terror and self pity.

Despite what the man had said earlier, he doesn’t return, and even with the situation as grim as it was, you find yourself falling asleep, still a crumpled heap on the floor.

****

There were times that you’d almost felt thankful that you’d been born without a quirk.

Like when you’d seen the way Touya and Shoto had to train with your father, the way he would hit and shove them, force them to push themselves to impossible limits just to meet his standards.

Sometimes being quirkless felt like a blessing in disguise.

There were also times, before Touya passed, before your mother’s break, that you’d felt as though your family might have actually cared for you. Well, everyone except your mother.

You weren’t sure whether it was a figment of your imagination or not, but it didn’t matter. It was little more than a hazy memory at this point.

Your father hitting Shoto harshly for making you cry, holding you close to his chest as he pet your hair. He smelt sharply of woodsmoke, sweat and soap.

Fuyumi petting your head softly after forcing treats down your throat. 

Natsuo propping you up in the basket of his bicycle, flying down the hill as you screeched and laughed.

Shoto grasping your hand tightly, pulling you close after he crawled into your bed with you, claiming he’d had a nightmare, his presence suffocating you while he held you as close as he could.

You’d chalked it all up to a daydream. Even if it was true, all that had happened nearly twelve years ago. Those small actions hardly excused their awful treatment of you in the years following.

Worse than their cold treatment and harsh punishments had to be their effect on others. Even after all these years, the way that you were shunned by other people still stung.

You realise now that it may have been because of your lack of a quirk, but it must have had something to do with your father’s refusal to acknowledge you.

I feel bad - imagine being a pro-hero with a pathetic, quirkless loser as a daughter. I’d be embarrassed too, having to be related to someone like you.

You thought that gaining a quirk would change something, but evidently your family had a problem with you, not your lack of a quirk.

It had been a difficult realisation to come to, one you’d lost a lot of sleep over.

Asking your father to let you go to UA had been a double-barrelled question.

While you were actually asking him to let you join the famous school for heroes, you were also asking him to let you go.

Having no family and no home had to be better than suffering in a household of people who despised you.

Evidently, he couldn’t let you go.

He couldn’t love you, but he refused to let you go.

You felt pathetic, vying for affection for years from the people who hated you most.

Over the past ten years since Touya had passed, you’d tried only once to leave.

You’d packed a bag and left in the middle of the day, making sure that no one saw you leave. You’d made it pretty far too, before you were caught by a pro-hero who dragged you back to your father’s agency.

He beat you after that, smacking you so hard you felt your brain rattle in your skull, leaving bruises that stained your skin for months. He made it clear that you weren’t allowed to leave. They hated you, barely tolerating the sight of you - but you couldn’t leave.

It felt like a fate more cruel than death, some type of inhumane punishment for something you’d done in a past life.

Your siblings had treated you coldly after that too. They didn’t bother pretending to care when your father slapped you around as punishment, turning a blind eye as he told you that if you tried to leave again, he’d send you to the hospital with injuries ten times worse than those he had inflicted.

You suppose that you got the short end of the stick in many ways - you didn’t have a quirk, but you were still treated like Shoto and Touya.

****

You wake up to someone shaking you, propping you up as they try to get you on to your feet.

Flinching back, you blink blearily at them.

It’s the man from earlier, his hat and coat discarded. 

“Come on, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to ask questions, instead yanking you up and pushing you towards the only door in the room.

Your initial panic returns, and you begin wriggling in his grasp, digging your heels into the ground as he tries to pull you out of the room.

His exasperated sigh is lost to you, too focused on breaking out of his grasp. He lets go of your arm for a moment before he has his hands wrapped around the back of your thighs, tossing you over his shoulder and walking out of the room.

The fists pounding on his back don’t seem to bother him, and your flailing legs are held down in a vice grip, his fingers digging into your thighs until you yelp.

“Stop moving.” He bites out in an irritated tone.

“Let me go!” 

It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him. You had hoped to sound stern and angry, but it comes out as a broken, terrified garble instead.

He ignores you, making his way through the winding corridors. 

Your search for objects to throw at the man proves to be futile - the corridors are barren.

Tears of frustration begin dotting at your waterline and you instead hang limply over his shoulder, trying not to think about all the horrible things that were about to happen.

He comes to a halt five minutes later, rapping on the door sharply before he’s let in.

You don’t have a chance to look around the room before you’re unceremoniously dropped into a chair. You’re sure it’ll leave a few bruises later on.

Just as you prepare to fling yourself to the side, to run away or attack the man with your quirk, your wrists are enclosed in thick cuffs.

Immediately, it feels as if a part of you has been shut off. A few seconds later and you’ve confirmed it.

Quirk cancelling cuffs.

The realisation that they were prepared enough to bring quirk cancelling cuffs scares you.

You don’t have time to linger on what that may mean.

“Little Todoroki.”

A symphony of laughter surrounds you. Mocking you, taunting you.

There are so many people. Even if you had access to your quirk, you were sure it wouldn’t be of much use.

The two men from before were standing off to the side, alongside two more and a woman. Before you stood a young looking girl, likely your age, and two other men. 

Eight people.

You try to curl into yourself as best you can.

They’re all staring at you, waiting for you to say something, do something.

When you remain still and silent, a few of them laugh again. 

“What, aren’t you going to thank us for your quirk? If I had known that you would be this ungrateful, I would have kept it to myself.”

Your blood chills and your breath catches in your throat.

There are so many questions flying through your mind, many of which you’re too terrified to ask.

“What?”

It’s whispered quietly under your breath, barely loud enough to be heard through the rush of blood in your ears.

“Oh don’t look so surprised, you knew your quirk wasn’t natural.”

Yes, you knew. But hearing it outloud, having it confirmed that your quirk wasn’t your own - it bruises your ego more than you’d care to admit.

The man before you, the blue haired one that seems to be the leader of the small group, continues talking, ignorant to your inner turmoil.

“I can almost see it now - Pro-hero Endeavour, beloved public figure, the famous flame hero - his own daughter affiliated with the same scum of the earth villains he’s sworn to fight. The irony, am I right?”

A few group members laugh cruelly as he continues on.

“Not only are you affiliated with us - you were so desperate for something that your father couldn’t give you that you joined a group of villains - in exchange for a quirk of all things. Oh how the mighty have fallen.”

He laughs then, different from before. It’s low and dry, and he approaches you, crouching down so that he can look you in the eyes through the mask on his face.

You’re horrified when you realise that it isn’t a mask - it’s a hand. A human hand.

Leaning back as far as you can in the uncomfortable wooden chair. It creaks loudly and the back of it digs into your shoulder painfully.

You hold his gaze for as long as you can, not saying a word, hardly daring to breathe. 

“Aren’t you going to ask how we gave you your quirk?”

His question throws you off, and you blink, slightly dumbfounded. You open your mouth, and then close it again, unsure of what to say, of what he wants to hear.

Instead, you nod mutely, still staring intently at his face.

He snorts, shaking his head. He places his hand on your shoulder, leaning forward so that his head is next to yours, so close that his lips graze your ear as he speaks.

“Use your words.”

His fingers tangle gently into the hairs at the nape of your neck.

“How did you give me my quirk.”

Your words lack the tonation of a question, but he doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t answer your question either, rather, he grips the back of your neck harshly, pulling you so close that your nose almost brushes up against the hand on his face.

“I could kill you, you know? All it would take is a touch, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

You’re shaking now, though tears elude you. Your eyes are wide and your breathing shallow. 

“But I won’t. My father’s experiment - my experiment - you’re proof that it was a success. Really, you should be thanking me.”

He leans to the side, placing his palms flat on your shoulders and-

Your jacket is gone. Where the familiar material once lay against your shoulders, there was now a fine layer of dust.

“My name is Shigaraki, but you can call me Tomura. We’re going to get to know each other quite well, so you should get comfortable,” he says as he brushes the dust off of your arms.

He clasps your upper arms in his hands, staring at you for only a moment before straightening himself and turning away. He leaves the room without looking at you again, instead waving his companions off and telling them to lock you away.

Most of the remaining people in the room leave then, still laughing and talking amongst themselves. The only two that remain are the masked man from before and one of the strangers who lingered in the shadows.

“Come on, I’ll take you to your room-”

The masked man is cut off abruptly as the other man, one with spiky black hair and charred skin, grabs his arm and whispers something to him.

Though you can’t see his face, it seems as though the masked man throws him a suspicious look. He relents, patting him on the back, leaving the room with one last glance your way.

You’re left alone with the charred man, his back facing you as he watches his companion leave.

…

His shoulders slump and he whirls on his heel, swiftly approaching you.

The palm of his hand is warm on your now bare forearm, and he yanks you harshly from the chair.

“Fucking finally,” he mutters under his breath, pulling out of the room, through the winding corridors.

****

Ten minutes later, you’re being shoved into a room, one much more spacious and comfortable than the one you first woke up in.

There’s a bed in the corner, narrow but comfortable looking, and a chair next to it. There’s also a door off to the side, and the short glance you manage to steal shows that it’s a small bathroom.

You feel sick.

Fan-fucking-tastic. I’m being held hostage. This is just perfect.

Your thoughts are cut short when the door slams shut behind you.

The man is still here with you.

He glances at you over his shoulder, his back still facing you.

One small step backwards turns into two, which continues on until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. 

You turn slightly, a few millimetres to see what you walked into.

The movement seems to stir the man from his stupor, and he swivels around to storm towards you. 

You think he’s about to hit you, or shove you, or kill you.

But none of those things happen.

Instead, he pauses once he’s in front of you. 

He stares at you, his gaze boring into your own. The silence is blaring. 

You don’t blink. You don’t breathe. You stand and wait, still staring at him.

His lips slip into a crooked, wicked smirk and he pushes himself closer to you, leering at you. You lean back as far as you can, trying to keep some distance between the two of you until your knees fold and you collapse onto the bed.

The warning glare he throws you is icy, and he leans down to grab at the cuffs still encircling your wrists. After a long moment, there’s a silent click and your wrists are free. You immediately rub at the tender skin, still eyeing him suspiciously.

He pockets the cuffs before dropping down next to you on the bed, leaning back against the wall while he eyes you with what can only be described as amusement.

“Well?”

He gestures vaguely with his hand, an air of expectancy surrounding him. He quirks an eyebrow at you, lightly nudging you with his foot.

You angle yourself away from him, turning your body towards the door. But as hard as you try to ignore him, he seems intent on getting you to talk.

“What, aren’t you going to greet your big brother?”

He lets out a dramatic, pained gasp, one hand clutched to his chest.

“And I thought you missed me.”

His words make you freeze. You’re still facing the wall, so he’s unable to see your wide eyes or clenched hands.

But he’s able to feel the way the air becomes dense, to see the way your hair raises up slightly as you lose the hold on your quirk. 

You feel suffocated, as if the walls are closing in.

Is this supposed to be some kind of joke? Is it a test - something meant to get a rise out of me?

“Hey, it was funny at first, but I want an answer.”

You don’t hear him, still rigid and distressed. 

He doesn’t take your silence well, grabbing at your shoulder with rough hands, yanking you so that you’re facing him.

Even then, you remain silent, fearful of the strange man no more than two feet away from you. 

His grip on your arm tightens, though you barely feel it. 

The room feels warm, hotter than it had when you’d first arrived. His eyes flash while he shifts closer, crowding into your space, searching your face for something.

“You don’t recognise me,” he says decisively. 

“Well, I guess I can excuse that - I have a more ruggedly handsome look now than I did ten years ago.”

His joking tone is lost on you. You’re sceptical of his words, of the situation you’ve found yourself in. 

Trying to pry your arm out of his grasp proves to be difficult, his grip tightening uncomfortably. 

“Say something,” he demands. He leans closer, too close. Close enough that you can smell him - metal and smoke and blood.

“It’s me - Touya. Come on, say something.”

His tone is pleading now, begging you to say something.

You lick your lips, eyes shifting around as you try to think of what to say.

“T-Touya?”

Your voice cracks, but it seems to be enough for him.

His eyes brighten a bit and he lurches forward without warning, pulling you into a suffocating you in a hug. You remain stiff, awkwardly patting his arm.

The grip he has on you tightens as a laugh rumbles in his chest.

“You don’t believe me. That’s fine, you will. Sooner or later.”

He moves back to his position by the wall, seemingly more comfortable than he had been earlier.

“W-Why should I believe you? You don’t have any evidence - this could be some ploy to get me to trust you and your friends.”

He shrugs, neck rolling side to side.

“I guess time is the only way to tell, and we have plenty of that. You’ll have to believe me eventually.”

There’s a pause, short and uncomfortable, before he’s speaking again, his eyes now bright and leering. The look he gives you scares you. You hold your breath. 

“Tell me though - how is dear old dad? Does he still beat you?”

You gape at him like a fish, eyes wide in shock. He leans forward, still talking as if he doesn’t notice how his words burn you.

“Or how about mom, huh? She always hated you, though you never really accepted that. Come to think of it, they all did, to a degree. Not me though, I loved you.”

He has a sick look of satisfaction on his face. 

No one but Touya could have known that, so it must be true that he’s your big brother.

The thought doesn’t comfort you as it should, you feel sick looking at the content look on his face. The Touya you remember would never have said something like that - something meant to cut you deep, to hurt you.

“Have you even seen her since she-”

“Stop it! I get it, you’re Touya, just- just stop.”

Your voice cracks pathetically.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that. Hey,” he grasps your arm again. You wish he would stop touching you.

“Since you believe me now, and you haven’t tried anything, I’ll give you a reward. You’ve been good, how about it?”

His nails dig into your flesh as he grows impatient with you, silently demanding an answer. A mute nod is all you can muster up.

You should be overjoyed, you know that. Your brother, who you had assumed to be dead, was alive. He was alive and right in front of you. 

Except this wasn’t your brother. The man staring you down so intently was not Touya.

“You’re lucky, y’know that? You’re lucky I cared enough about you to volunteer you for this position. Hell, you’re lucky you got a quirk through this experiment and not the big boss like we usually do it. You’d be brain dead by now if that had happened.”

He talks over you even as you try to question him, his grip becoming bruising and painful around your arm.

“You’re lucky I’m not like dad,” he sneers at you. “If I were, I’d have smacked the shit out of you for how you spoke to me.”

Having heard enough, you yank your arm out of his grasp and stand up abruptly, staring down at him.

You’re confused and hurt, but most of all, you’re angry.

“You’re not Touya. Touya would never speak to me like this, he’d never allow me to be treated like this. And he definitely wouldn’t join a group of villains. I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t my brother. Maybe you were once, but now you’re nothing more than a corrupt piece of shit.”

He listens to you silently, waiting until you’re finished, chest heaving as you glare at him with all the hate you can muster, still gripping your bruised arm to your chest.

Then, he laughs.

It starts off softly. You barely hear it, the only indication that he’s actually laughing being the slight shake of his shoulders. As the seconds tick by though, it grows louder and louder, until he’s clutching his stomach, head thrown back as his bellowing laughs echo throughout the room.

He quiets down after a few minutes, wiping away a nonexistent tear, one last amused puff of air leaving his lips.

Before you can blink, he’s on you, smothering you.

His hands are on your throat, crushing your windpipe. The force of him jumping at you knocked you back, and you hit the wall with a loud oof, the air literally knocked out of you. 

While his actions are crazed, his eyes are anything but. He stares down at you, his gaze drilling into yours. His thumbs press down and you’re letting out an odd choking sound.

“I knew I spoiled you too much when you were younger. You’ve become such a goddamn brat,” he spat, eyes wide and angry.

“Is this how you want me to act? If I’m really such a piece of shit, then maybe I should go all out, treat you exactly how dad does? Would you prefer that?”

He smirks slightly, more of a quirk of his lips than a smile, eyes narrowing while he continues to speak over your spluttering.

“Maybe that’s what you need - maybe I should go further than dad would, that’d really get the message through.”

His right palm, massive and calloused, slides off of your throat and down to your left shoulder, where his fingers grip into the tender flesh.

“Why do you make me out to be the bad guy, huh?” he sighs heavily. 

“I try to help you and this is what I get in return - a bitch for a sister who doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. Well, that’s easy enough to remedy, I guess. I don’t like hurting you, but this is for your own good, I promise. Trust me, just like you used to - I’d never lie to you.”

His left hand leaves your throat, moving instead to cover your mouth.

You can breathe again, and you shudder as you try to suck in a breath with his rough palm covering your mouth. You wonder for a split second why he moved his hand, why he covers your lower face.

It becomes clear a moment later.

Touya’s quirk was always amazing. Blue flames that would dance beautifully, capturing your attention whenever he would show off to you. It was amazing, but it hurt him, in ways that you would never understand.

You never understood why he grimaced and whimpered and cried after using his quirk, but now you do.

His palm heats up quickly, blue flames searing the skin of your shoulder.

You scream then, eyes bulging, limbs thrashing.

The smell of your flesh sizzling makes you nauseous, and you start to feel light-headed.

After he decides you’ve had enough, he pulls his hand away, and an angry red welt remains, your skin still hot, sizzling and bleeding from the abuse. He slowly moves his hand away from your mouth, taking a step back.

His distance doesn’t last long - he’s back in your space in an instant as you stumble forward, his arms wrapping around you, carrying you back to the bed.

You feel feverish, and you briefly register that you’re about to pass out, though Touya’s words drown out your thoughts.

“See, now you went and made me feel bad. Just remember that this was your fault, you can’t blame me for your bad attitude. Hey, how about we start fresh after this, forget this whole thing happened?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead brushing the sweaty strands of hair off your forehead, softly petting your head with a loving look in his eyes.

“All of this aside, I did miss you, you know? I would check up on you when I could, though you never seemed to be too badly off. If there’s one thing I can’t fault dad and them on, it has to be the way they take care of you. It doesn’t hurt that they made sure you hated them just enough to make me look good.”

He stares at you fondly, and you don’t have the energy to bat him away, let alone to tell him how they’d made your life a living hell - how he was making your life a living hell. Your vision starts to swim, but he continues on.

“Yeah, I know, you probably don’t believe me, but they really do care for you. A bit too much if I’m honest, but whatever. You’re with me now, and that’s all that matters. It’s just the two of us again, just like it used to be.”

You wish he would stop talking, but his voice was surprisingly soothing and his touch was familiar. 

“Shigaraki seems to like you too, which is good - that means the others will have to mind their own business too. Plus I’m here, so you won’t have to worry about them bothering you. But hey, you can’t call me Touya in front of those guys - call me Dabi.”

What kind of a name is Dabi?

You think briefly about the fact that you should have stayed at home instead of running off.

But despite everything that had happened, a small, dark part of you was happy. Your brother was alive - a monster, a villain - but he was alive. And a twisted, broken part of you was happy that he still cared about you. 

Him hurting you wasn’t any different from how your father used to treat you. Perhaps you had traded in one evil for another.

You pass out still listening to him ramble on about how happy he was to have you back, how much he’d missed you, how lucky you were to have such a caring big brother.

****

Dabi - Touya - sighs heavily, still stroking your hair. He stares down at you with a remorseful look in his eyes.

“I know you can’t hear me, but I have to get it off of my chest. It’s probably for the best that you’re unconscious actually.”

He laughs, though it lacks humour or happiness.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice cracking. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, and I’m sorry I had to leave you. I’ll understand if you hate me, but this is just the way things have to be now.”

His hand pauses as his attention wanes, eyes glazing over as he focuses on something unseen.

“I was never as great as you thought I was. But I’m still sorry,” he says, clenching his hands in fists, nails indenting the flesh of his palms.

“I don’t like hurting you, not that it helps at all.”

He stands, rearranging you more comfortably on the bed.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this - but it’s for the best. I promise.”

I promise.

#yandere #dark content #female reader #bnha #mha #x reader #todoroki family #yandere todoroki family #shoto todoroki #endeavor #enji todoroki #rei todoroki #natsuo todoroki #touya todoroki #fuyumi todoroki #dabi #yandere todoroki #yandere todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #sister reader #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere dabi #yandere rei todoroki #yandere endeavor #yandere enji todoroki

[thehusbandoden]

Todoroki Shoto (20):

Key: angst -💔; fluff -🤍; comfort -❤️‍🩹; angst to fluff -🧡; crack -💜; slight angst -🩵; Fan fav -❤️‍🔥

Fanfictions

...

Drabbles

Early Mornings 🤍

Just some fluffy snuggles with your hubby and son.

Night Terrors ❤️‍🩹🤍

Shoto has a nightmare, and you're quick to comfort him.

Morning Kisses 🤍🤍

You wake up from feather like kisses from your husband; Shoto. The following moments are filled with more kisses, fluff, and some bantering. | 315 words + gn reader

The Last Straw 💔🧡

You and Shoto get into a heated argument | 1,497 words | fluff ending

'Us Time' 🤍💜

Shoto is tired of barely having any time with you, so he proposes an idea to get you for himself for an entire week. | 854 words \\ posted: 9/26/23

Home 🤍❤️‍🩹 (requested)

Yandere Shoto. He takes you home after you get kidnapped. | 2,199 words \\ posted: 11/08/23

M'love 🤍

You come home from work to your alpha mate, who seems anxious about something. | 312 words \\ posted: 03/25/24 \\ A/B/O dynamics

Headcannons/Scenarios

MHA boys react to you torturing an Endeavor plushy🤍💜

Simply that my friends. Enjoy the chaos.

You don't say I love you back 💜🩵

You're gonna be murdered by some, and you'll break the others. Choose your poison.

How they would react to you going to therapy for past abuse 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3

You flinch during an argument 🧡❤️‍🩹

Self explanatory<3

Comfort headcannons 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory <3

You sing "Soft Kitty" to them when they're sick 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 9/4/23

Self conscious reader 🤍❤️‍🩹 (request)

Self explanatory<3

First Kiss 🤍 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 1,005 words \\ posted: 12/05/2023 \\ requested

Pregnant Reader Part 2 🤍 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 537 words \\ posted: 12/06/2023 \\ requested

Comforting Claustrophobia Reader Part Two 🤍❤️‍🩹 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 555 words \\ posted: 12/07/2023 \\ requested

Liking the Same Heroine as Dabi 🤍 (requested)

Self explanatory<3 | 711 words \\ posted: 12/19/2023 \\ two different endings \\ requested

Christmas Headcannons 🤍

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 12/25/2023

MHA Men When You're Sick 🤍❤️‍🩹

Self explanatory<3 | posted: 03/27/24 \\ 303 words

And more yet to come! <3

Last added to: 3/27/2024

Main masterlist | Requesting Rules

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

#mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #thehusbandoden #fluff #mha fluff #angst #mha angst #bnha shoto #mha shoto #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader angst #shoto torodoki #shoto x reader fluff #yandere shoto x reader #shoto x you #shoto x y/n #mha x reader comfort #mha x reader platonic #mha x reader angst #mha x reader fluff #bnha x reader comfort #bnha x reader cuddles #bnha x reader fluff #bnha x reader angst #bnha x you

[cheer-less]

a/b/o todoroki shouto x f!reader - dark content

summary - after spending the first 24 years of your life as Young Lord Todoroki Shouto's academic rival, everything changes when on your 25th birthday you present as an omega. Your wealthy family is ashamed, and give you up to the quickest bidder. Don't worry, surely Shouto won't hold a grudge.

cws - this is dark content with non/con and dub/con. arranged partnership au, with omega reader, alpha shou, endeaver also makes reader finish on his fingers, touya's a bit of a creep, vaguely victorian, an au where omega's don't really have rights, predicament bondage, hard impact play, bootlicking, muzzle, dehuminization, endeavor refers to reader as it, breeding, breathplay, use of a riding crop, whipping, aphrodesiac, dacry philia , hard domination, degradation, knifeplay, praise, and then love and soft inadvertent aftercare. yandere.

wc. 4.5K

by selecting read more, you are consenting to read content that is dark in nature. please move forward at your own risk, and know that this work is 18+, minors and ageless blogs DNI.

The countryside flashes past you, but you keep your eyes ahead. There’s a little stain on the upper left corner of the cushion just next to Todoroki Touya’s head, and if you stare at that, maybe you won’t be sick. You swallow around the gag in your mouth, it’s leather, and it covers the lower half of your face. You can’t see the back of your head, but you know it locks on, and you know the keys are in Todoroki Enji’s pocket. Touya kicks you.

“Do’ya even like Shouto?” You don’t respond, obviously. Your cheeks are red from crying, and your newfound sensitivity to the world isn’t helping, you can smell both of them, and you feel small and shy in this small space with two alphas. 

“It doesn’t matter, Touya.” Todoroki Enji says, adjusting the white cuffs of his shirt. You’re wearing a simple white dress, and your hair has half fallen out of its complicated updo, tendrils framing your face. Touya kicks you again, you don’t react, even as pain blooms in your shin. There’s a leather restraint around your upper arms, pinning them to your body, and your hands are nearly loosing feeling with how hard you’ve pulled against the restraint on your wrists. 

“Is she a virgin?” Touya asks his father, and Enji’s face glazes over. 

“Apparently not.” He looks over at you. “However, given their relationship I decided to acquire her for him anyway. A graduation present.” He sighs, tapping his cane against the floor of the carriage. “He doesn’t have to bond to her, if he doesn’t want to, but she’s healthy, and fertile, so he may if he’d like.” Touya looks back to you. “This is a gift for your brother.” Enji says firmly. “Not yourself.” 

“She smells good though,” Touya says, cracking a smile. “Anyone ever said that to you, sweetheart?” You make eye contact, and his blue eyes are so cold a shiver runs up your spine. He puts his boot up on the seat right between your legs, pressing against your crotch. A little strangled sound escapes the gag and Enji sighs. 

“I ought to make sure she’s in working order.” He takes you roughly into his lap, squeezing your breasts hard enough to make you keen against the gag. 

“Let me,” Touya says, annoyed. His father shakes his head.

“No.” Enji lifts your skirts, in full view of his son, and pins your thighs apart. “Soaked.” He murmurs, slipping your white panties to the side. “Omega’s are absolutely shameless, aren’t they?” He rubs his thumb across your clit and it’s a little like being shocked by a million volts of electricity, you’d been touched before you’d presented but this, this was something entirely new. He doesn’t pause, slipping a single finger inside you and curling it. Your back arches against his broad chest and he supports your head with his free hand. “Easy,” he says, and you try but it’s not long before you’re cumming on his fingers, tears pooling in your eyes as you look everywhere but at Touya. 

“I want her.” He says, annoyed, as Enji tucks your face into his neck, palming your entire head and shhing you gently. 

“You have proven that you are not responsible enough to care for an omega.” Enji says sharply. “Shouto on the other hand-” 

“Is a goody fucking two shoes?” Touya protests. 

“Is about to graduate with a masters in politics, is mature, is an adult, is ready for this. Is my heir. Take your pick.” Touya sours, but keeps his mouth shut. The carriage pulls to a stop, finally, at the beginning of the long driveway on their sprawling estate. The door opens, and the men get out. Enji takes you by the shoulders, and deposits you in the gravel, letting you stand while waving the man driving the carriage away. He keeps a tight hold on the lead around your waist, tugging you inside while he bickers with his son. You tune it out. It’s a grey and dark day, the sky looks like it might rain any minute. The Todoroki estate is wide and sweeping, the main mansion house is huge and beautiful, stone covered in deep green ivy. The glow from inside is light and golden, under any other circumstances you’d be excited to see the inside. Not today. Lord Todoroki Enji bids Touya a firm goodbye and then leads you up the sweeping staircase in the entrance hallway, not bothering to allow you to shed your shoes. Servants look at you with a mixture of pity and concern as you pass, you avoid their gaze. 

“Shouto!” The lord calls down the hallway, but there’s no response. You walk for a few minutes, wet boots squeaking on the beautifully varnished wood floors. You struggle to keep up with him, but just when you’re about to trip on your skirts, he stops. He knocks on the a cream colored door, and you're struck by how in any other situation, how unseemly, how taboo it would be for you to see his bedroom. 

“Come in.” You hear a familiar voice say, tinged with annoyance. Lord Todoroki pushes the door open, and takes you by your upper arms, dragging you inside. You have exactly one second where you read genuine confusion on Shouto’s face. He’s standing at his desk, having been in the middle of penning a letter. Realization dawns on him as he reads both the flush and the tear tracks on your face, as he inhales and he can smell you, white florals, gardenia, freesia, madness. 

“Congratulations on your graduation from university.” Lord Todoroki says, releasing your upper arms. “If this gift isn’t to your liking, we can always replace it.” You swallow, surely, he’d reject you. Based on the last conversation the two of you had had, where it had been revealed that you’d beaten him out for the top academic spot in your graduating class, you could see him telling his father to throw you in  the mud with the pigs. 

“A gift?” Shouto says, nearly unconscious of the conversation, eyes on you, guessing what the last day had been like for you, imagining the last twenty four hours of humiiliation.

“You should breed it, in my opinion,” Lord Todoroki says, feeling you squirm against the restraints. “Do you think you have what you need to break it, it should obey you but I can-” 

“I know what I need to do.” Shouto says sharply, and Enji flashes his palms. You recoil involuntarily at his tone and he softens a bit. “Get out.” Shouto takes a step towards you and Enji moves towards the door, hesitating. 

“You know where to find me.” He says eventually, and Shouto shrugs. Enji lets the lead he was holding fall to the floor, closing the door behind himself. The two of you are alone, and there’s a beat before he speaks. 

“You poor little thing,” His voice oozes condescension as he takes a step towards you and you realize now, how much taller than you he’s become as the years have passed. “You’ve been crying?” You nod, unsure if it’s the flushed cheeks or red eyes that give you away. “Why don’t we get the first part over with, and then you can take some time and calm down?” You feel hot new tears forming, and he reaches for you. Instinctively you step away. He moves quickly enough to catch  you, taking your body roughly and bending you over his bed, pinning you to the mattress as you struggle. “Stop, moving,” he grunts, and for the first time you feel the weight of an alpha giving you an order and subdue your movements, even as you hear the metal of his belt buckle clink, and feel him raking up your skirts. “I want you to remember,” he says, “That’ I’m taking the time to prepare you, even though I don’t have to,” he keeps one palm on your head, pinning it to the bed. You feel him slip two fingers inside you, you whimper against the gag. He scissors them, taking his time to relax the muscle. You stop struggling as you start to feel pleasure along with the humiliation of your former classmate seeing you like this, and feel him pat your back softly with his free hand. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, smirk spreading across his face, he smells like clean leather, like the crackling of a fire, like pine. “Omega’s really do break easily, don’t they?” You try to speak through the gag but he chooses that moment to ease himself inside you, and you whimper instead. You’ve never felt this full before, this relaxed, even restrained, even uncomfortable, it’s ecstatic. You feel him comb his fingers through your hair, swearing under his breath. 

“Good,” he breathes, and the warmth of his praise is like a small fire in your chest. “Good girl.” He rolls his hips against yours experimentally, and watches you relax further, all soft moans and whimpers. He rests one hand on your bound wrists and uses it as leverage to fuck you harder, swearing as he loses his composure, he’d dreamed about this, fantsized about it every time you’d beaten him in class, corrected his answer, flashed a higher test score. He’d thought of ways he could humble you, he’d imagined slapping the smile off your face, spitting in your mouth, pushing you to your knees in front of him where you belonged. But in this moment, with you so deliciously pathetic in front of him, he finds himself only able to focus on his own pleasure, sure that you’ve achieved some kind of climax when your eyes roll in your head and he chases his own high, cumming with a loud groan deep inside you, raking his nails down your back. He takes a minute, keeping a hand on your waist to pin you to the bed while he puts his pants back on.  You’re lost, mind floating far from your body when you feel him push you gently to the floor. “I have to finish a letter.” He says slowly, like you might have trouble understanding. “You’re going to sit next to me on the ground, understand?” You nod, and he takes the leash and pulls you, forcing you to crawl awkwardly across the floor without using your hands, his cum running down your leg under your dress. You kneel, and watch him sit and write, more tears rolling down your cheeks at regular intervals. After fifteen minutes, he pauses, looking down at you, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“I’d imagine you’re quite upset, but this is far more natural than any competitive relationship we had.” He says. “You’re going to serve me, like you would have anyway, but now you’ll also carry my heirs.” You swallow, more tears falling. “I won’t expect you to know everything, I’ll train you, I’m a fair man. Obviously you’re gagged for the time being, but first, please don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t hold eye contact with me, or anyone unless you’re invited. You keep your eyes on my boots.” He inspects you. “Are you going to speak if I take the gag off?” You shake your head. He bends down, and gently, carefully unlocks the back of the leather strap. He doesn’t let any of your hair get caught in it, brushing it back from your face. You resist the urge to groan at the pain when you're finally able to close your jaw after nearly a full day wearing the muzzle. 

“If you speak without permission,” he says, and you keep your eyes on his shoes. “It will come back. If you understand, I want to hear you say ‘Yes, sire.” You can’t help yourself, you look up at him indignantly, remembering the times you’d said that same phrase in mockery, teasing him about an argument in class you’d won, about a test you’d beat him out on. He raps your nose hard with one long finger and you instantly recoil, in more shock than in pain. 

“Eyes down.” He says sharply, turning in his chair to fully face you.  You let out a terrified squeak. “Appropriate reaction,” he says, still with a cutting tone, “Most of my punishments will be far more uncomfortable.” You stare at his boots, attempting to focus. “So you are smart enough to follow orders. Let’s hear it, yes, sire.” You find your voice, it’s barely a whisper. 

“Yes, sire.” 

“Good,” he says, “Now I want you to kiss my boot.” You know better than to look back up at him, but it takes all your self control not to look up into his eyes, not to look at your former classmate who had to be joking. You hesitate, “I am absolutely and deadly serious.” He says, and you hear the slight condescension in his tone. You lower your head, and press your lips to the leather. “More.” He says and you kiss it, nearly losing your balance with your hands and arms tied behind you. “Now apologize to it.” He says and he watches you stop yourself from looking up at him in confusion. “Apologize for thinking you could ever be my rival,” he snaps, “And apologize to my boot for thinking you were ever above it.” You swallow. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I’m sorry for thinking, for thinking I was ever above your boot.” 

“So soft spoken now,” He observes, “Is it because you’re afraid of me?” You go to nod and then think better of it. 

“Yes, sire.” 

“Lick them.” He orders, and you do, crying a little still as  you clean his boot, following it with your face as he brings them back under his desk, resting one of them on your face as you hear the scratch of the quill on the paper. You’re still restrained, licking the part of his shoe you can get to, terrified of what will happen if you stop. You lay on the ground, straining your neck for a full half hour before he stops writing and scoots his chair black. 

“Look at you,” he says, “Who knew this was what you were good for?” You know better than to try to speak, he presses the flat of his boot against your mouth. “I did.” He says coldly. “I always knew you were nothing unless you were serving me, always.” He pushes it harder against your face. “So this is how you greet me, you’ll get on your knees and lick my boots until I tell you you can stop. Understand?” 

“Yes,” you manage, “Sire.” It’s hard to get words out around his shoe, but you do your best. He pushes the chair back, standing, and reaches down, taking the lead and walking across the floor, leaving you to scramble on your knees, unable to crawl properly with  your arms restrained. 

“Wait here.” He points to the ground and you close your eyes. He gets a box and stands on it, taking some rope from a drawer in his desk and looping it through a metal hook on the ceiling. He works for a few minutes before speaking again. “Get up here and stand on the box,” You struggle to your feet and stumble across the floor, legs asleep. “Iida’s gonna eat shit,” he mutters, a smug little smile on his face as he stands you on the box, going behind you and loosing the restraints on your wrists, You gasp with relief as the blood flows back to your hands, you flex and stretch your fingers. He reaches around and removes the other leather belt from your upper arms, and unlatches the leash from your neck, and you stand, unrestrained 

“Your parents may never have cared if you dressed appropriately,” he says, snatching a shining golden letter opener from his desk, “But rest assured my property will be properly covered when it goes outside.” He slices down the front of your dress and you let out a nervous gasp, struggling to keep your eyes down as he yanks it off of you, throwing it on the ground. You’re standing then, in only your corset, panties and stockings. “This you’ll need.” He mutters, removing the corset without destroying it, unlacing it with a mild amount of frustration. He slices through your panties, and you whimper at the proximity of the metal to your skin, but his movements are deft and sure. He throws them on the ground next to your dress. He eyes your stockings, they’re a white cotton, and they come up to just above your knee. “I can’t have you catching cold, and it’s a cool day.” He slides a thumb in between the fabric and your skin, feeling the plush of your thigh, and you keep your eyes downcast as you feel him tying the rope around your body, your wrists, your waist, your neck, running between your legs. It feels a bit loose and strange. You keep your eyes down as he goes to his bedside table and takes out a small bottle, dipping his fingers in something before spreading it between your legs, rubbing it on your already puffy clit. He notices that at his touch, you stop trembling, as if despite what he was doing to you you couldn’t help but be comforted.. “When I remove the box, you better catch  yourself.” 

“Yes, s-” he pushes it out from under you and you fall, several things happen at once. You stand the only way you're able to, catching yourself on the balls of your feet. The rope between your legs now cuts into your crotch, in a way that brings you some relief from what you’re now certain is an aphrodisiac, but when you rub against it to get relief the rope on your neck tightens. Your arms are wrenched up, behind you, and your back already aches at the way they’re pulling. You let out a kind of strangled moan, trying to find a way to stand and be comfortable, while he watches with a small genuine smile on his face. 

“Don’t suffocate yourself to cum.” He says, teasing, and you look up at him, then immediately recognize your mistake, fear flooding your face as he scowls. 

“I’m sorry I, please don’t-” 

“Quiet.” he snaps. He opens a closet and pulls something out, it’s a long black riding crop, 

“Please,” you beg, “Please, Todoroki-” He moves so quickly you barely see him, whipping it hard across your chest. You gasp with pain, tears springing to your eyes. 

“To you,” he says, doing it again, making you dance on your tiptoes, “I am sire, your lord, or Lord Todoroki.” He whips you again. “All that studying and not a drop of sense in your brain I       see.” You gasp again when he does it again, this time on the top of your thighs. He walks past you, and for a moment you think he’s done but he stands behind you, watching you rub your body against the rope, shaking his head. He takes something and puts it over your head, you realize it’s the muzzle and start to struggle in earnest. He pushes the bit back in your mouth and fastens it, coming to stand in front of you. “I was going to let you beg for relief.” He says, shaking his head. “But you spoke out of turn, and now you’re going to spend the day like this.” he whips your tits again and you yelp against the gag. He keeps going, savoring every little tear, the tinge of your face as it burns in humiliation. He doesn’t talk much, stopping if the gag buckle gets tangled in your hair, softly gently fixing it and then going back to whipping your tits. You’re crying hard by the time he pauses, still alternating between bucking your hips against the rope, gasping for air and hopping around on the balls of your feet. He sighs, setting the crop on his desk and palming his length. 

“Fuck,” he loses his icy composure for a second. “I underestimated how hot it would be to see you cry,” He moves quickly, coming to stand behind you and taking your hips in his hands. You’re still swollen from last time, but he bullies his length inside, fucking you hard, but after a few minutes, he stops, pulling the gag down. “Wanna hear you say my name as you cum,” he growls, “Wanna hear you say it.”

“Aaa-ah,” you get out, he’s right, you’re close, and he’s so big and warm and close, “S-sire,”  you get out and feel his lips on you shoulder. 

“Shouto.” He corrects. “Shouto when you’re cumming.” 

“Shouto,” you repeat back to him, “Oh, oh, oh, Shouto-” 

“Fuck, yes,” he snarls, “Who owns you?” 

“Y-you, Shouto,” you choke out, and you cum nearly at the same time, you first and then he follows after you, your legs trembling as you go back to balancing on the tips of your feet. He stays curled against you for a second before replacing the gag and flopping back on his bed. You whimper a little, you’re back to having your arms pulled at a painful angle, and without his touch you have nothing to distract from the welts on your chest, which sting and throb. He stares at you, taking his time, running his fingers over the welts, even pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

It’s a full hour before he takes you down, letting you flop to heap on the floor, barely catching yourself on  your shaking hands. He leaves you there for a moment and comes back, taking your chin in his hand, forcing your gaze upwards. 

“You can look,” he says softly, and you feel him dab your face with a warm cloth, “Good girl,” he coos, your lids flutter shut. “I don’t really have it in me to hurt you too badly,” he muses, as if he’s surprised. “I was so angry with you,” he murmurs, carding his hands softly through your hair. “But you’re really quite docile like this, aren’t you,” he cups your face. “Look at me.” You do, and hold his gaze really, for the first time since you walked into the room. “I’ll take good care of you.” He murmurs, feeling the warmth of responsibility ignite in his chest. “Some omegas sleep in the stables, but I think I’d prefer to have you in my bed, hm?” You realize, after a beat, that he’s asking what you think. Despite yourself, you nod. “I thought so.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

He gets up and leaves, coming back a few minutes later carrying a basket, setting it on the floor and pulling a dark glass bottle out. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket, and pours some of the liquid, it stains the fabric a dark purple. 

“Shhhh,” he breathes, and you sniffle a little as he dabs at the welts, “Shhh, sweetheart.” You feel the pain dissipate wherever he touches the handkerchief, it’s numbing affect apparent. 

“I’m,” you choke out and he looks at you, “I’m s-sorry, sire.” He stares at you, surprised, and then pats you on the head affectionately. 

“You’re doing alright.” He pulls you to your feet, and you let out a soft whimper of pain, sore from having been in an uncomfortable position for so long, “You’re doing well, come here,” he holds you to his chest, feeling how small and soft you you are pressed against him, feels a deep protective connection forming. “You’re a good girl, so good.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, lifting you up and setting you on his bed. “You wanna take a little break, get under the covers and I’m going to see to your clothes?” You swallow and nod. He doesn’t make you verbally respond. “Do I need to tie you down, or will you stay put?” 

“I’ll stay put, sire.” You mumble, as he pulls the blankets back and tucks them around you. You feel exhausted, joints aching, but somehow, pleasantly full and warm. Shouto kisses your head one more time before leaving, a soft smile on his face as he fixes his jacket, walking down the stairs to the entrance hallway. 

“How are things?” His father stands as he passes the sitting room, Shouto scowls, looking away. 

“Fine.” He says, and starts to walk faster. 

“They sounded fine,” Touya calls, from the soft satin couch he’s lying on, “Pass it around sometime.” Shouto whirls around, eyes narrowed. 

“You will not touch her.” He snarls, and Touya cackles, his canines catching the light. 

“He will not.” Lord Todoroki Enji stands, putting a hand on his eldest sons shoulder. “Your sons should be your own.” Touya scowls, ripping his shoulder away from his father, and stalking out of the living room. “She’s behaving?” Shouto nods, ready to leave. “And you like her? We can get you another one.” Shouto feels an unnatural, irrational anger ignite in his chest, his hand curling into a fist. 

“I don’t want anyone else.” The words tear from his lips without him thinking about them, and a small proud smile spreads across his fathers face. 

“Good.” 

Shouto meets with a few of the servants and makes arrangements for your clothes, and for a few other things, acquiring more soft dark strips of leather from the stables. He makes it back to you just as the skies open up, rain pounding against the windows of his bedroom. You’re still asleep, nearly exactly where he left you. He slips out of his jacket, kicking off his boots and slipping into bed beside you, tucking your body into his chest. He inhales deeply, you still smell of springtime, like the white flowers that grew on the trees in the gardens, back when he used to walk with his mother. He rubs your head, and feels you snuggling against his chest. 

“Are you comfortable?” He asks and you nod. 

“Yes, sire.” You mumble sleepily, he feels you hook a leg around his body. “Mine.” You mumble, unconsciously. He chuckles without thinking about it. 

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow, but you just hold him tighter. “Did you hate me?” He murmurs, “Before, did you hate me?” 

“No.” You sigh. 

“No, hm?” He starts running a long finger down from your forehead to the slope of your nose. “Not going to mind being mine?” You squirm at that. 

“Is it always going to hurt?” You ask, your voice is small. 

“Sometimes,” he says with a little shrug, “You’ll need to be trained, and also I think you look absolutely beautiful when you cry.” You shiver. “But sometimes,” he couches, “It can be nice. Soft.” He keeps stroking your face. “You’ll have heats, and I’ll take care of you,” you squirm a little more, “You don’t like that?” 

“No, sire.” 

“I’ll have ruts, and you’ll take care of me,” he says softly, wondering if that’s the right way to put it, “It’ll probably feel more like I’m throwing you around.” You let out a soft little noise. “You don’t like feeling out of control.” It’s not a question. “You’ll get used to it.” 

#todoroki shouto x reader #yandere todoroki shouto #yandere shoto #yandere shouto #alpha shouto #alpha shoto #mha abo #bnha abo #mha dc #bnha dc

[yanderecrazysie]

Crucify (Yandere Todoroki Shoto)

Requested on Quotev!

Title: Crucify

Pairings: Todoroki Shoto x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, quirkless AU, bullying (not towards reader), OOC Shoto, mentions of abuse, delinquent reader

Summary: All Shoto wants is someone to come to his rescue.

“Every finger in the room is pointing at me

I wanna spit in their faces, then I get afraid of what that could bring

I got a bowling ball in my stomach

I got a desert in my mouth

Figures that my courage would choose to sell out now

I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets

Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets”

-from “Crucify” by Tori Amos

Todoroki Shoto had once been known as the quiet, stoic, and somewhat rude, handsome outcast throughout the school. He was an odd boy without any friends, but everyone left him alone. It was a peaceful life.

Everything changed when his dad was arrested. He went from outcast to the number one target for bullies. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he was sure that he hated this change.

Wasn’t it enough to have to survive everything his father put him through? Couldn’t he get a break, some sympathy, from his classmates?

Apparently not.

Most of the bullying occurred behind closed doors, when no one but his tormentors were around. He preferred it that way- no one around to watch him suffer. He was sure that’d be worse than the bullying itself.

He went home with his stomach a constellation of bruises, wishing he could tell his mother but not wanting to burden her with the knowledge when she was already dealing with so much. With no one to go to, he suffered in silence, only letting the tears escape when he was completely alone.

But at least no one else knew of his plight. That would just make him more pathetic than he already was.

“Hey Shoto- how’s your dear old dad doing? Hope he hasn’t dropped the soap yet, am I right?”

Shoto stiffened as one of his worst bullies sidled up behind him, flanked by two other equally-intimidating boys. His heart dropped.

Not in front of everyone, please, anywhere else…

The bully’s voice was loud enough that people’s heads were turning to face the drama. Shoto could feel his cheeks burning as panic began to seize hold of him. He silently begged the bullies to do this later, when they were alone, but it wasn’t meant to be.

“Did your daddy do this to you?”

Shoto was suddenly shoved roughly to the ground, landing hard on his back and cracking his head against the sticky cafeteria tile. His vision spun as his bullies towered above him, beginning to laugh at his pathetic state.

To his horror, they weren’t the only ones laughing. In fact, the mocking noise was spreading across the room like wildfire, burning Shoto to his core and making bile rise in his throat. This was the worst case scenario.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t-

“Awww, is itty bitty Shoto about to cry? How saaaaaad.”

Tears filled his eyes and he desperately willed them back as he tried to stand. One of the bullies firmly placed his sneaker on Shoto’s chest, forcing him back onto the ground. One tear slipped out and, as if a switch had been flipped, more followed quickly after.

It happened in an instant. One moment, his bully loomed over him, the next, his blond hair stuck to his face, wet and stained with chocolate. The bullies scurried out of the way to face their next target.

You stood there, looking both pissed and bored at the same time, holding an empty chocolate milk carton in one hand, the other placed on your hip.

“What’s wrong with you all? Bullying someone because their dad abused them? How is that his fault? How pathetic are you?”

Shoto watched in awe as you barked out your questions, the bullies flinching with each word and backing away from you. Your facemask had been pulled down so you could tear into them even more.

“Get lost, losers. Pick on someone your own size or, better yet, go look in the mirror at your pathetic, ugly faces and punch yourself in the balls before I do.”

The boys hurried away, giving you one last timid look as you crushed the carton in your hand and tossed into the nearby trash can. 

Shoto recognized you as one of the school delinquents. One that nobody messed with.

And you had defended him?

“Thank you,” he managed to get out, eyes shining no longer with tears, but with admiration.

“Yeah, whatever.” You shrugged and turned around, walking away without a care in the world.

Shoto wanted to be like you- he wanted to scare away his bullies with just one glare. He wanted to be untouchable.

No, there was something deeper to his wishfulness. It wasn’t just that he wanted to be like you, more like he wanted to be with you. You could protect him and he could… well, he didn’t know what he could do in return, but he’d do just about anything to make it up to you.

From that moment on, Shoto couldn’t get you out of his mind. Your harsh words, the way you looked at him softly after tearing apart his bullies, the way you protected him.

He wasn’t the type to talk much, but he had so many things he wanted to say to you. He wanted to thank you again and again, yes, but he also wanted to express just how much he admired you, on the brink of obsession.

He began to watch you walk around the school. Follow you even.

He loved the way you didn’t seem to care about anyone you passed by. He craved that indifference but he also wanted you to notice him. Talk to him. Love him.

Maybe he’d have to work harder to get your attention.

#yandere #yandere one shot #yandere x reader #one shot #my hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere shoto #todoroki shoto

[inkykeiji]

ngl i canon shouto to be low key kinda scummy, he is a todoroki... not nearly as bad as natsuo and ofc touya tops them all. but shouto fucking girlfriend with the door cracked just so his older brothers can hear that HES the one making her scream like that? UGH just love those competitive manipulative men

no anon i totally see where you’re coming from 100%. i headcanon shouto to be an extremely jealous and possessive person especially given his isolated upbringing and his resulting social ineptitude!!! i think he’d struggle to handle a relationship, especially since he has no healthy relationships to look to or model his own after yk??? i can just see him falling in love very fast and very obsessively and becoming like a stoic type yandere about it LMAO

#i have a whole document on canon shouto and what i think he’d be in a relationship hahahaha #and how i think he’d be as a Daddy 🙊 #because i used to write fic for my best friend about shouto!!! #but anyway those are a few of my thoughts anon bb #i hope your night is going incredible so far!!! #stay safe and healthy <333 sending u lots of love!! #inky.bb #clari gets mail

[eggyboyoart]

Handsome 2.0

Just a young artist thirsting over people who don't exist lol.

A general warning, I do enjoy horror and suggestive/nsft content and all content like that will have the appropriate warnings.

Please do consider buying me a coffee on my Kofi if you’re feeling generous

Also here is the link to my carrd, please do check it out.

You can find me elsewhere on:

AO3: eggyboyo TIKTOK: eggyboyoart INSTAGRAM: eggyboyoart YOUTUBE: eggyboyoart X (Twitter): eggyboyoart

Masterlist below - Please be respectful :D

No Title - Izuku Midoriya x GN Reader (TW: angst with comfort, slightly yandere/worshipping vibes??, religious commentary - approx. 700 words)

Dabi brainrot - League meme post (TW: food - less than 100 words)

Domestic Bliss - Shoto Todoroki x GN Reader Crack Fic (TW: Shoto being bad at cooking, fluff/crack, mentions of vomit/throwing up/gagging, Shoto being hopelessly oblivious - approx. 1800 words)

Time Freezing Quirk Theory - what it would be like to be able to freeze time in the mha universe (TW: stealing (money/objects/classified information), murder (slitting throats), psychological confusion caused by quirk-usage, nose bleeding, ear bleeding, eye bleeding, passing out - approx. 500 words)

The Quest for the Furnace - ONLY ON AO3 - canon-divergent parody of JTTW with members of the brotherhood and you :D (TW: dadcaque, tags to be added)

LMK Six Eared Macaque - silly goofy guy headcanons :D (TW: top surgery scars (we luv) - approx. 500 words)

LMK Azure Lion - silly goofy lion headcanons :D (TW: Azure with lion traits supremacy lol - approx. 500 words)

LMK Red Son - silly bull prince headcanons :D (TW: Agender Red Son (WE LOVE HER) - approx. 500 words)

LMK Tang - silly little cicada headcanons :D (TW: Smoking herbs, hoarding - approx. 500 words)

LMK Peng - silly girlypop bird bitch :D (TW: punching children, discussion of insecurity - approx. 500 words)

Liar - You and Peng fight; its not pretty (TW: blood, sharp weapon (spear), physical violence, claws, reader is part dragon, peng and reader fight, reader gets a solid wallop on peng's face - approx. 1000 words)

LMK MK - silly GAY GAY GAY baby monkie man (TW: none - approx. 500 words)

LMK Sun Wukong - silly stinky monkey loser (TW: wukong not bathing lol - approx. 500 words)

Capitano/Assistant brainrot - Capitano and Sassy Assistant GN Reader (TW: princess as a joking nickname (referring to self) - less than 100 words)

SAGAU Winged Creator - Fun lil’ Xiao and Winged Creator brainrot (TW: heights (flying with wings), massage, could be interpreted platonic or romantic, could also be interpreted as suggestive at the end - approx. 400 words)

Scara Drawing + Body hcs - Emo Scara and ‘doll’/body hcs (TW: broken porcelain, electricity/electro, electrocuting ppl, stabbing ppl, - approx. 200 words)

Modern College Scara - Scara being attracted to idiots/you (TW: Scara calling you dumb and stupid - less than 100 words)

SAGAU creator speaking to animals - crack, pure crack and meme shit abt the creator being able to talk to animals and turns out, animals are assholes :| (TW: swearing, animals beating ppl up - approx. 200 words)

‘Wolf Day’ - Shaw pack headcanons/brainrot (TW: wolves - approx. 150 words)

Mate Job headcanons - Shaw Pack’s Mate’s Jobs (TW: cooking food/hospitality industry - approx. 560 words)

D.A.M.N. headcanons - D.A.M.N. squad headcanons (TW: talk of weapons for decorative purposes, drunkingly making out?? - approx 280 words)

Darlin’ brainrot - Shifted Darlin’ brainrot (TW: wolf - less than 100 words)

Magical theory - Fun theories about the applications of magic (TW: brief mention of gold being imbedded into skin (no blood/gore) - approx. 200 words)

Darlin’ craft store - Darlin’ owning a craft store + chaotic vamp fam (TW: none - approx. 100 words)

Darlin’ and Bright Eyes brainrot - most badass duo stg (TW: none - less than 100 words)

Darlin’ and Bright Eyes headcanons - my two faves being friends :D (TW: talk of, and I quote, ‘fucking a bitch up’ - approx. 350 words)

Lasko headcanons - Lasko being a secret hoe (TW: spicy clothes, innuendos? implied sexy times with Gavin (as per usual) - less than 100 words)

Dom Lasko headcanon - small hc about Lasko as a dom :D (TW: lasko’s irresistable sex appeal - approx. 200 words)

D.A.M.N. boy + Imperium AU headcanons - drawings abt how I think the D.A.M.N. boys look/dress like + Imperium AU as well (TW: sexiness, scars from being attacked, failed assassination attempt - approx. 700 words)

Camelopardalis/Freelancer brainrot - Freelancer relentlessly flirting with Cam :D (TW: Cam being easily flustered, Freelancer loving every moment of it - approx. 100 words)

Asset brainrot - Asset being a curious nuisance :)) (TW: none - less than 100 words)

Freelancer Revenge - Freelancer revenge brainrot during the E&E games (TW: Kody, fantastic memes - less than 100 words)

Just Grell - I love Grell sm (TW: amazing, beautiful woman - less than 100 words)

Julian’s route brainrot - brainrotting about the Apprentice, Portia, Asra and Julian’s death (TW: SPOILERS FOR JULIAN’S ROUTE, angst, little to no comfort, death, plague/sickness, incurable disease, not eating/drinking/moving for days, emotionally/mentally breaking down, crying, Apprentice really goes through it - approx. 650 words)

Stanley Parable Theory - stanley parable x presentable liberty thepry (TW: deadly virus, dying to said deadly virus, ghosts, haunting - approx. 250 words)

No Title - Handplates mini fic (TW: forgetting, gaster spoliers ig?? - approx. 150 words)

Underclash - Undertale au idea (TW: gladiator fights, fighting/killing for fun, being forced to fight for your life - approx. 

Asbestos theory - Asbestos in the facility and Chell’s life expectancy (TW: Asbestos related disease/cancer/sickness, Portal 2 spoilers? - approx. 250 words)

Your Favourite Human Hosts(TM) - brainrot abt Solomon and MC having a podcast (TW: lucifer’s ass - less than 100 words)

Rich MC Obey me! AU - Obey Me! AU where MC is like RICH rich, featuring; Asmodeus, Mammon and Leviathan (TW: money, BIG money times - approx. 300 words)

Beach Funtimes - unhinged MC, Diavolo and Lucifer :) (TW: mention of Dia's impeccable tiddies, being generally annoying toward Lucifer :), poetic rizz - less than 100 words)

Your Favourite Human Hosts (TM) pt2 - more about MC and Solomon's Morning News Podcast (TW: licking door knobs and that making ppl sick, fist fighting - approx. 250 words)

Too Far From Home - original space alien horror story (TW:  space, sci fi? murderous alien/space monster, blood, guts, gore, head wound, stomach wound, excessive use of the word moist and wet and other variations, off screen murder, implied murder at the end, not reader insert - approx. 1600 words)

S.A.P. (Super Abilities Project) - old story idea (TW: being submerged underwater for a long period of time, stressful/life threatening situations, being ‘stretched’ in a experimental/torture scenario, being electrocuted, being experimented on/tortured - approx. 250 words)

Project Control - an old story idea from like, 2017-2018 (TW: science experiments, ‘monster’/not human test subjects, murder of a test subject - approx. 600 words)

Project Control 2 - Test Subject 1 and 3 (TW: wack ass drawings/old art style, ‘monsters/test subjects’ (no gore), disproportionate body parts, ‘inhuman’ appearance. humans being experimented on, a child being suicidal - approx. 250 words)

Project Control 3 - Test Subject 4 (TW: conjoined twins, old art style, ‘monster’/non-human test subject, disproportionate body parts, ‘inhuman’ appearance, humans being experimented on, two humans being ‘merged’ into one monster? - approx. 150 words)

#introduction #masterlist #masterpost #eggy writes*~ #eggy supports*~ #eggy talks*~ #eggy draws*~ #eggy writes spice?*~ #quest for the furnace

[thecuriousquest]

Todoroki - N - 2 👀

Skin and Bones

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, kidnapping, manipulation, overprotective tendencies, physical threats of harm, reader won’t eat, reader chained up (not sexual)

Prompt Request: “Look at you, you’re skin and bones.”

Master List

Yandere Alphabet Prompt List

—————————————————————————

You refuse his “help”, his “kindness” once again. In his eyes, that’s just you showing him that you need someone to care for you. You’re incapable of the smallest things such as eating, bathing, consuming enough water, even brushing your teeth correctly.

Shouting in his face for him to get lost is something you haven’t stopped doing since he brought you to your new “home” three days ago. It’s been hell ever since. You’re locked up against his bedpost on the floor, knees drawn up to your chest.

“There now, my little icicle. There’s no need to be so angry.” He wipes one of your rage infused tears away with the pad of his thumb. “I have some dumplings for you. Freshly made. There’s even a soup to go with it. I have another surprise too. Mochi for dessert. How does that sound?”

His smile is always cool…gentle, but often times, you’ll notice a twitch. It happens so fast that you don’t even really think you see it, but there it is. That twitch. You must be pushing his limits.

Again, silently, you turn your head away as you refuse to eat.

Not a good idea probably.

Shoto sighs, putting the lid back on the soup. He sets it back on the trey next to you along with the water bottle and cup of tea he made for you.

“Why? Why are you still not eating? It’s been days, Y/N. I don’t understand. You have to be starving by now.”

Gritting your teeth, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but you might as well. He already saw the fury on your lips, the frustration in your eyes.

“Oh, go to hell, Shoto. As if you really fucking care.”

“Watch your mouth, and I do care.” He reaches out for your chin, gripping it with the lightest of touches. “I love you. You need to eat so that you can stay healthy.”

With your hands locked behind your back to the bedpost, you can only try to wriggle your chin out of his hand.

“Knock it off! You…you took me from my house, from my life!” Oh fuck, you hate showing him bleary eyes running like a river. “Fucking kidnapped me.”

He lightly pops your lip. “You know I won’t have that kind of language in my house.”

You kick out at him, trying to hit something, anything. Stomach, balls, knees, chest, head. You kick and keep kicking until he grabs your leg with a crushing hold. You wince as he presses down on your joints, on that sensitive little knob on the outside of your ankle.

“I won’t eat! I refuse!” You thrash instead, tiring yourself rather quickly. Panting as sweat builds up on your brow.

“Look at you! Look at what you’re doing to yourself. You’re starving yourself! You’re skin and bones.”

His clutch on your ankle bears down like the fangs of a lion. You stifle that little sound of pain trying to emerge from your throat, clamping your lips shut so as not to let it loose.

“Eat or I’ll break your ankle.”

You look up at him with confusion. Despite kidnapping you, despite all of your rebellion, he’s been so calm and tender with you. This is a side of him you haven’t seen before, and it leaves you speechless, unsure of where everything will go from here.

Will he resort to violent threats from now on if you give in? What happens if you don’t? He kidnapped you, so what makes you think he won’t crack your ankle like it’s nothing?

You wish you could reach out for his hand, to try and pry it off of your twitching limb. His hand stays steady, grip just as strong if not stronger.

“Please…Shoto…”

He smiles at you. “Are you going to keep defying me, or will you eat the food I brought you?”

I just want to go home. “I’ll eat the food,” you tell him, unable to look up into his mismatched eyes.

“Good girl.” He removes his hand from your ankle and picks up the set of chopsticks. “It’s alright. I know you can’t take care of yourself very well. That’s why I’m here. I brought you here because I love you. I need to watch over you and protect you from danger, even if that danger is yourself. It’s going to be okay though, snowflake.” He feeds you a dumpling.

You chew the food, cheeks crimson with embarrassment.

“I’m going to make sure you eat properly so that we can get you healthy again. I promise, my little ice crystal.”

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere themes #triggering content #triggering themes #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #mha shoto todoroki #bnha shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere shoto x reader

[yanderenightmare]

Soo.. I watched this ballerina movie and cant keep my mind away from shoto. So if you're not busy can you make a yandere wealthy shoto x ballerina reader. They meet at the big opera show and shoto gets fascinated by reader. He lords his status over her to give him a -private- show. It can be sfw or nsfw! Btw your fics always made my day. Thank you and love you!

BNHA ! IMAGINE

Shoto Todoroki x darling

TW: yandere, abuse of power

“Dance.” The man said. Wearing fine-tailored rich black. 

Shoes so shiny they looked wet – like oil – with shirt buttons undone about two or three points down in the spot where a bow ought to have tied the ensemble together.

Everything else was straight – from the partition between white and red locks to the crisp crease lining his slacks.

“Come on, it's a simple request.” He added. Still looking at you in expectancy. “Just pretend I'm not here, Dove.”

You’d just danced for hundreds in a show where if any minuscule little detail were off, your ears would bleed hearing about it after – and though the pressure was crushing and the fall was steep – it had only made you feel prouder while you danced with every fine limb stretched and pointed to perfection – performing choreography on par with the beautiful orchestra classics resonating within the shell of the opera house.

But no music is playing with you now. And as you crossed your legs to establish the starting position - building up for a split and a spin in the air – you felt a lot of seizing things, but not one of those was proud…

“Beautiful.” He commented a beat after you landed, and you must have grimaced poorly in return, for he cracked a grin at you and offered a light-hearted chuckle that seemed vehement in the echo of the opera chamber. “That, however, not so much.” He tsked, though without anger.

You tried wiping your face clean of it and assumed a docile yet poised stance befitting of a professional – still wondering why you’d been called away after the show to amuse whomever the man you found yourself with was. 

“Does it anger you?” Said man asked openly, though gave no time for you to answer him. “That despite your skill, despite all your hard work- all your blood, sweat, and tears- you’re of no more value than my opinion.”

Your mouth fell open, but still, you held your tongue in spite of yourself. Though you were unable to keep the grimace from returning – a glitch in the narrowing of your eyes and a furrow between your brows, as well as a slight snarling tug of your lip.

“Worthless without my interest.” He continued, and you found it harder to maintain grace. “I’m Caesar and you’re my gladiator – just a pretty puppet on strings – all for my entertainment.” He mused. “I throw a thumbs down, and your carrier is done.”

Your eyes widened at that, faltering where you stood – crumbling in that stance that had been hammered into you through years of religious training to become the very epitome of flawless – now, like an amateur, your heels touched the floor, and your chest collapsed like you’d been shot.

“What’s the matter, Dove?” He cocked his head. “Is it unexpected of me to be so honest?”

You take a moment to assess him, still unsure of his motives. “If you’re so honest… tell me what you want.” You demanded, still wary but tired of being toyed with to the degree it had the feeling of unease outweighed.

He offered another smile. “You know what I want.”

tip-jar: Kofi

#yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bnha #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #yandere todoroki #yandere todoroki shoto #yandere todoroki x reader #yandere todoroki shouto #yandere shoto #yandere shoto x reader #yandere shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #shotou todoroki #shoto todoroki #bnha shoto #shoto x y/n #shoto torodoki #todoroki shoto #shoto

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

A Murder of Brothers

A Murder of Brothers by katydid

Izuku gets hit by a quirk that causes the first person he lays eyes on to believe that he's their little brother. Unfortunately, he looks at Tomura, Dabi, and All for One.

Words: 5483, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 8 of A Collection of Big Brother Tomura AUs, Part 7 of A Collection of Big Brother Dabi AUs (or, Dabi Demands His Own Big Brother Series Since I Gave One to Tomura)

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Sensei | All For One

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku & Sensei | All For One, Midoriya Izuku & Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Dabi | Todoroki Touya & Midoriya Izuku, Dabi | Todoroki Touya & Todoroki Shouto

Additional Tags: Dark Crack, Quirk Accident, Big Brother Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Big Brother Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Protective Older Brothers, Creepy Sensei | All For One, Yandere Sensei | All For One, Platonic Yandere, brother for one, a tiny bit of cannibalism, Alternative Universe - Not Canon Compliant, Not Laws of Physics Compliant Either

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41239677

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Izuku #♠ #Izuku Midoriya #Shouto Todoroki #AFO #Tomura Shigaraki #Dabi #R:G #A:Katydid

[ao3feed-tododeku]

Black Rabbit: A Villain Saving Heroes

Black Rabbit: A Villain Saving Heroes by katydid

After faking the death of his villain alter ego Black Rabbit, Izuku flees to America. He's hoping to enjoy his new romance with Shouto Todoroki and spend time with his Uncle Yoichi. But his disaster magnet field appears to be in full effect when both heroes and villains crash the Student Organization Fair.

Words: 4970, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Be My Villain

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Yoichi | First One For All User, Second One For All User, Third One For All User, Shindou You, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, League of Villains, Cathleen Bate | Star and Stripe, Todoroki Natsuo, Eri, Izumi Kouta

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Second One For All User/Third One For All User/Yoichi | First One For All User, Midoriya Izuku & Shindou You, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko/Todoroki Natsuo, Past Todoroki Natsuo / A comical number of villains, Eri & Midoriya Izuku, Izumi Kouta & Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku & Yoichi | First One For All User, Midoriya Izuku & Second One For All User, Midoriya Izuku & Third One For All User

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Villain Midoriya Izuku, Adult Midoriya Izuku, Alternate Universe - America, Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, Crack Treated Seriously, Midoriya Izuku Has All for One Quirk, Sensei | All For One is Midoriya Hisashi, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Family Drama, Todoroki "Ride or Die" Shouto, Mistaken Identity, Eri Needs a Hug, Izumi Kouta is a Little Shit, Good Big Brother Shigarki Tomura|Shimura Tenko, Good Sibling Todoroki Natsuo, Yandere Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Villain Yoichi | First One For All User, Good Uncle Yoichi | First One For All User, Todoroki Shouto is a Good Significant Other, Kissing, Pure Villain AU, You don't need to read Pure Villain to understand

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47584729

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Tododeku #💙 #💚 #Tododeku #♥ #R:G #A:Katydid #Quirk AU #Villain AU #Dad for One #College AU