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It’s honestly so upsetting to see that the majority of people just don’t understand that Tomura doesn’t actually get enjoyment from killing people.

Tomura has literally felt so sick to his stomach that he has thrown up when he has killed people before.

The difference between all of the times Tomura has felt physically ill from killing people and all of the times that Tomura has gotten “enjoyment” from it (Tomura doesn’t feel enjoyment, he feels relief.) is that each time the person he killed had hurt him first.

Killing the people that hurt him is just genuinely the only thing that Tomura can think of to get them to finally stop so that they won’t hurt him anymore.

Tenko had originally reached out to his father for help, only for him to be struck by him with a gardening tool… and only then Tenko killed (with purpose) his father to stop him from hurting him again:

Tomura only wanted to kill the two drunk men after they had hurt him for literally just walking down the street:

Tomura wanting to kill the heroes that had hurt him (with the intention of killing him):

Tomura still doesn’t get enjoyment from killing people who hurt him, but he does experience relief from it…

((Edit: I would just like to clarify that the relief that Tomura feels from killing people that hurt him comes from knowing that they can’t hurt him anymore (relief that he is safe, even if temporarily) It does not come from him getting rid of the “itch” that he experiences (it always comes back, even after killing), like AFO groomed him into believing. I saw someone add that in the tags, and I realized that I never fully explained my thoughts on it. LOL.))

Not to mention, Tomura was literally GROOMED by All For One (which is something that people just like to ignore for some reason…) to even have this desire to kill people in the first place.

And even then Tomura doesn’t have the desire to kill people in the way that AFO wants!

His want for destruction stems from his inherent empathy for others, and his inability to understand how people are able to ignore the suffering of others. Not what All For One has groomed him into believing. (That Tomura’s want for destruction is an impulse that’s something inherent to him.)

Tomura has continued to have empathy for others despite AFO’s grooming, and has showed genuine kindness to the league on many occasions…

All of this is such an important aspect of Tomura’s character and being able to actually understand him, and it’s so disheartening constantly seeing people completely overlook this part of him.

A Cursed Forest

Synopsis: in which you journey on with dragon!sukuna who runs into someone he knows Word Count: 2k Warnings: cursing, not proofread Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

You have been walking for hours and hours since dawn break when the first light lit up the entrance of the cave. On that morn, the Cursed King had shifted into the form of a man — hulking and terrifying, a true beast — and strode forth from the cave with no instruction to guide you. Yet, you knew better than to utter a query or seek command, for his will was plainly wrought: follow him wherever he pleases. 

So you did. 

The ground was dry, cracked, and parched as if no rain had ever lay even but a kiss upon it. The sky darkened with the threat of tempest, though no breeze stirs the air, nor no sound, and no sign of life in the forest. It frightened you impossibly further, for you were so certain the trees were alive all through the night, but then, as your captor, or your saviour, you’ve yet to know, marched along, with you in tow, you knew then that it was his very presence that commanded an eerie stillness upon every branch, every leaf, and every critter that had made this place its home. 

Sore and bruised, your feet ache with every step; you dare not complain. Instead, you pray to the Heavens that your stomach will not grumble so loudly and that this destination the King has in mind arrives soon, for there is not much more you can give. 

Power coursing through his veins, he does not seem affected by this long journey through the forest. He is not lost, he does not thirst or hunger, he does not stumble or slow his pace. He is as steady as time and just as silent and merciless. 

A step for him is a leap for you, and you are struggling to keep up. When you stop by a tree, leaning against the rough bark to catch your breath, he stops, too, but he does not meet your eye. He simply stands tall, his unclothed back rippling with tension, and you rush to your feet, not wanting to irritate him with your weakness. 

He journeys on wordlessly. 

Midday passes, and you have not eaten, drank, or rested. Your mortal limitations are dragging your limbs down, forcing your mouth to dry and your vision to spin. 

“M-my Lord,” you stutter, nails pricking your palm, “if I m-may, I do not think I can go on much longer.”

Halting ahead, he turns and regards you with his full attention. He’s looking, really looking, and what he sees displeases him greatly. With a sneer, he makes a sharp turn and mists away. 

You slump to the ground, ashamed of the way your knees quiver and how blood so easily leaks from shallow cuts on your bare feet. You are just as your family says: weak, pathetic, and useless. Nothing had ever prepared you for this twist of fate, from being cast out to being offered as sacrifice for the drought and then to taking on the role of companion to the most monstrous beast that plagues the Kingdom of Eden. 

It is a mockery. 

The salt in a wound that runs deep and defines you. 

“Drink.”

Your eyes had shut without your realisation and when they open, you think perhaps you are delirious, because you are somewhere different. Still imprisoned in the Dark Forest, you are now at the river that pierces straight through. Rushing forward, you slurp down the fresh water. Life pulses in your very heart. It is cool and refreshing and everything you needed.

Dripping down your chin, the water you cup in your hands is soaked up by your dress more so than your own lips, but you cannot find the decency to feel shame in front of the King. 

Heat blasts your back, sudden and light, and you feel it tickle your skin. Behind you, your captor holds a charred bird, smoke curling out of his mouth. He throws it in your lap when you turn, staining your dress and threatening to burn your thighs. 

“Eat.”

It is as delicious as the meat he had allowed you to feast on the previous night. Strength floods your stomach, rich and filling. This is the most fortunate you’ve ever been when it comes to food; your family would throw scraps at you, watery oats and bones to gnaw on.

Warmth dancing inside, you’re much more comfortable now and ready to journey further, but you do not want to let him know just yet, lest he drags you onwards for another half-day. Slowly, you pick at the meat, pretending to savour it.

“Thank you, my Lord,” you mutter, barely above a whisper.

He grunts. Leaning against a tree himself, he watches you, lip curling slightly in something that might have been amusement or disdain. Your eyes dart downward, and you know what he sees—the dark mark upon your chest, a twisted design resembling his dragon shape, now burned into your skin. The heat beneath it intensifies under his stare, but neither of you speak of it.

Swallowing and carefully, you find the courage to ask, “To where do we venture, my Lord?”

“The nearest town to the north.”

That would be Agartha — a bustling place nestled within the heart of the northern mountains, a haven for traders and merchants. It is a place you have only heard whispers of in stories uttered of by those in your home who dared not venture beyond the village borders. It is said to welcome all manner of folk and creatures, so long as they have something of value to trade, but few have dared to travel its roads. 

It’s over a day’s travel, and the closer one gets to that part of the land, the more likely they are to encounter a cursed being, even if one avoids passage through the Dark Forest, skirting along the edge instead. 

“Why?”

His amber eyes cut through yours, and with disdain, he orders, “Finish your food, and do not question me anymore.”

“But why walk when you can fly?”

The question leaves your mouth before you could mull the thought further and the flex of his hand makes you gulp. You know not where the stupidity came from and you resent yourself for it. A moment passes, the leisurely flow of the river the only sound filling this gap between you. 

Assessing you with a cock of his head, you wonder what he’s thinking. Perhaps he’s regretting his choice of companion, or perhaps he’s considering whether you are better off as a meal. You hope it’s not the latter. Or either. You hope he likes you. 

Why, you cannot bear to ponder. 

“Because you cannot.”

His voice…

It’s softer than before. Not quite gentle — it is still very much rough, raspy, and deep in a way that rattles your bones — but there’s a vulnerability, a sincerity that leaves you reeling. The mark on your chest burns, and you grow breathless, shivers running up your spine and tingling in places you cannot linger on for too long. 

He grunts, his large hand clutching a pec. His eyes meet yours with disbelief. Something clicks inside again, that turn of a key, that slotting of a puzzle piece, which he seems to feel, too. But that can’t be. 

“You,” he hisses, and then he shakes his head. Inhaling deeply, you feel the forest rumble beneath you, shaking with the force with which he’s gripping the tree bark behind him. “If you are finished, get to your feet and walk before I drag you by your hair.”

He is already turning away, walking ahead with more force than before. You quickly wash your hands and mouth before you rush after him, afraid to be left alone as the afternoon falls. 

Hiking closer to him than before, you cannot help but eye his marked back. The black lines are pigmented and clean. They do not appear like the marks you’ve seen on other men in your village. No, they look to be a part of his body, just as any of his limbs are. 

You wonder how they feel under your fingers. 

Another hour or two passes in silence. You do not ask questions and he does not offer answers. This is a mere glimpse of how the rest of your time with him will pass, you gander. Though, it is unclear for long he will tolerate your existence. A man like him, or rather a creature like him, does not seem like the type to desire company, and yet here you are.

The temperature drops considerably. Goosebumps rise along your arms. A sharp crackle sparks in your chest.

You have unknowingly ventured somewhere odd. The branches are sparser, the grass is balding and dull, and fog is blanketing your feet. Somehow, the sky has darkened quickly, as if the clouds had thickened within seconds. You feel a chill prick your spine. 

“Stay close, rat,” the King of Curses snarls. 

When you approach him, he gives you a firm look and then jerks his chin. You press closer. In the distance, you can hear whistling —mocking and taunting. Your breaths get more and more shallow. You are being watched. 

Hesitantly, fearful you might set something off, you whisper, “Where are we?”

“We are on the brink between the edge of this forsaken forest and the land surrounding Agartha. There will be dangers around these parts. Do take care to not allow yourself to be ripped apart; you will stain my skin with your filthy blood,” he growls. 

You have only heard of tales from drunken men in taverns you’d pass by. Tales of hunched beasts ranging in height, some with the ability to tear into your flesh and kill you instantly and others with magic that lure you to your death. And though you’d like to know more about what exactly the King is sending along these parts, you are far from keen to learn first-hand. So, you follow the angry man’s lead. 

The recent turn of events has you reeling, but you are given little to no time to ponder anything. Indeed, you have no choice, just as you have never had a choice in life. 

More whistling. 

It has grown nearer. 

“Fuck,” the King growls. He flexes his arms, hands closing to fists as he marches ahead. You cannot tell how he feels, whether he is afraid, anxious, or enraged. Best not to find out. 

“If it isn’t the great King, out of his domain,” a woman’s voice sounds out.

It is melodic and enchanting. Bumps on your skin rise. There is something frightening in her tone. Too sure, too confident, too in control, you cannot breathe with the weight of her presence, though you see her not.

“And with a mortal girl, no less.”

The voice, bodiless, float around your head, lifting locks of your hair as if marveling at the tangible feel of your body. 

Squealing, you run to your companion’s side, holding his arm in spite of yourself. He glances down at your quivering form and rolls his eyes. “Spare me the theatrics, Kuchisake. We are merely passing. Answer me: Is Agartha still as it once was when I was awake?”

The voice chuckles and replies, “It has not changed. Time does not pass by in that corner of the kingdom.” 

He nods and moves to continue on his way before she speaks again, and the underlying threat in her voice stops him in his tracks. 

“I know what you seek. But Mother has made her intentions clear; you must see through the bonds that tie you down.”

A force knocks you back into a tree and away from him. The impact knocks the breath out of you but it does not hurt.

It is impossible to tell who pushed you, and you dare not dwell on it. They are having a stand-off, asserting power over each other, whilst you remain as mere collateral. That is how it has always been with these cursed beings, indeed with any who held power over you. 

“Mother has chosen to play a cruel joke, one in which I want no part. Not even she can stop me. So keep your advice to yourself, Nymph.”

She hums a melancholy tune, it is low and slow, a bastardisation of a sacred melody. She sings the wedding march.

Sukuna flicks his wrist and you’re lifted up, floating in the air until you land on your own feet next to him. Then he walks on, with you in tow, feeling red tendrils of smoke tied around your wrist, keeping you from running or being snatched away. It is as if he has collared you, his very own pet.

Still invisible to the human eye, she hums that tune all the way through the forest, even once you’ve left the border of those crooked trees, and only stops when a mountain in the distance comes into view. 

That is where you are headed. And deep inside, there is something the King of Curses wants desperately enough to stomach mockery from, who you can only guess to be, his sister. 

What lies ahead, you do not know. 

You have no choice but to trust him, and you hope that at the end of this cursed journey, you will make it out in one piece.

oh sorry did i shoot you 47 times in chest /silly

more like 57 wtf how could you do such a thing?? 😩😩

he's so bf

crashing out over becoming recent moots with @shigarakislaughter who i consider to be tumblr famous with rue and the others (even though im late to following them i just get shy okay) ahhh

Fantasies / (t.shigaraki x GN! Reader) (Drabble)

☆ porn no plot

☆ cw / tw : Male masturbation. Thats it. Tomura jacks it.

Tomura really can’t help himself, he’s tried, god he’s tried to stop himself but he’s going fucking feral at this point.

It was totally your fault. Yea. Yea that’s right, you stood too close to him today, he got a whiff of your perfume and now here he was, furiously rutting his hand against his cock like a horny teenager. But fuck he really can’t help it. You smelt so good and shit your hair looked so nice, and your outfit…

“Oh Tomura.” Your voice would be sweet and soft as you’d coo at him. Tomura could see it now, clear as day, you’d grin at him with those pretty eyes and lick down his chest.

Tomura could feel his cock twitch in his hands and he shuddered, chewing on his lips. Fuck, the thought of you was driving him insane, he was going insane. 

“Ah ah… focus on me…” you would dip your head down and kiss the tip of his cock lovingly, licking on his tip. Tomura would jolt, the mere sensation of your tongue on his sensitive cockhead would make his head spin.

And then you’d lean down and take him fully into your mouth and-

Tomura shuddered, cock twitching as he came, his cum dripping off his chest as a slew of curses spilled from his chapped lips.

Shit.

He still couldn’t hold out long enough to finish his fantasy…

taglist [OPEN] : -

© HTTPS-MIDORIYA. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

♪ ༘⋆ drawn to you — t.todoroki smau

♪ ༘⋆ viii. drive 𝄞 ix. tbd

♪ ༘⋆ ix. family dinner 𝄞 m.list

cw: long ass written part, shitty parents, mentions of and allusions to domestic violence (nothing too graphic though), alcohol (reader isn't the one drinking), mother is being a dick about reader's major (i love all art major babies ur so cool), pls let me know if i forgot anything

nothing had changed about your home, since you had last been here. it felt like you hadn’t walked along the hallway to the living room in ages, even though it had only been a couple weeks – give or take. after introducing dabi and exchanging a couple of polite-ish pleasantries you two followed your mother to the living room. dabi remained a step or two behind you; his eyes roaming around the place. the house wasn’t all that big and most of the furniture appeared to be mismatched and at the very least a couple of years, if not decades, old. he wasn’t necessarily judging any of it, he just couldn’t shut off the memory of how different it had been back at his parents’ place. enji had always strived for perfection, after all.

you turned back at him; watched him look around. without knowing why, a pit grew in your stomach as if his eyes were judging everything you were surrounded by – and you by extension. he noticed the way you looked at him. there was hesitance in your gaze, but beneath it was a sense of curiosity that you seemed to keep deeply locked away. he offered up the faintest smile, nudging you forward with his arm just slightly, so your mother wouldn’t notice. playful as his action may have been, the depth within his strikingly blue eyes led you to believe that he may have noticed the unease you were feeling. you looked up at him. he would probably never understand the extent of it, but you were glad not to be alone in this house tonight.

“can i get you anything to drink? water? a beer, maybe?” your mother’s gaze not so subtly skipped over you. dabi looked back at her, immediately putting on a polite smile. it was so different from his usually smug expression that it caught you off guard at first. “water’s fine, ma’am.”

“are you sure?” her eyes remained on him. “i have some good whiskey, too, if you’d prefer that.” your mother didn’t see the twitch in your eye, when she offered him the harder liquor. he noticed. “no thank you.” he was polite, but his answer was very obviously finite. “i have to drive back, after all.” he laughed, staring her down with the politest smile you had seen on him.

“of course, how responsible.” not even glancing at you once, your mother nodded. “be right back.” she was about to turn toward the kitchen, when dabi interrupted her. “i’ll get it.” he walked past you, toward where he assumed the kitchen to be.

from the moment his presence left your side, you felt yourself missing the security he gave you – and in the very same breath you hated that you did. it was silly you knew it was but so long as he was there, pettiness was all you had to worry about from your mother.

he came back quickly. by then you had sat down on the old and frayed patchwork couch one of her ex-boyfriends had left here when he’d left her. your mother was sitting in the armchair across from you not uttering a word and barely managing to glance your way. when dabi let himself sink into the empty spot on the couch beside you, you didn’t move at all. he didn’t know why, but you were strangely focused on one spot on the wall right across from you. there was barely anything hanging on the walls – no family pictures, no paintings, nor any other décor really. so, the slightly darker spot in the wall, that you were staring at so intently, was way more noticeable than it probably should be. he was still confused, why it would pull your focus in that much. he nudged your knee with his own to pull you back.

you turned to look at him. he had sat down beside you on the couch. close enough for you to take in the scent of his cologne mixed with the hint of cigarette smoke that was always lingering on him. he had two glasses of water with him. you didn’t take note of it any further, assuming he would just offer it up to your mother. he didn’t. instead, he held it out to you. with a barely audible “thanks” you took the glass from his hands. From the corner of your eye you noticed, for a split second, a strange look in your mother’s eyes, almost as if she were upset about something.

“so, dabi was it? are you still in school?” your mother quickly snapped back to playing the polite hostess. dabi smiled, doing his best to hide the satisfaction he felt from getting a reaction out of the woman in front of him. part of him hoped, that you would notice, if only to calm your nerves. “nope.” she continued asking him about his life, barely acknowledging your existence at all. dabi answered every question politely, but he made it a point not to indulge her in ignoring you. he mentioned your brother and the band, when he was asked what he did for work. in an offhanded comment he even went as far as to say how much he enjoyed seeing you at lov’s most recent show.

your mother was obviously irritated by him. something about his picture-perfect smile and his purposefully deadpan, borderline bored answers ticked her off. you could clearly see it in the way her brows pulled together and how her lips formed a tightly pressed line. if it were you, she probably would have blown up at you within your first three words, but she had to save face in front of company. that was the only saving grace you had right now. but you couldn’t stop yourself from at least enjoying the vein pop on your mother’s forehead whenever dabi smiled just a little too brightly in her direction.

unfortunately, whatever little enjoyment you had pulled from this, was not meant to last. the second the front door fell shut, every single muscle in your body tensed. in the four months kai had been living at your mother’s house, you had come to perfectly memorize the heaviness of his steps and how he would always aggressively throw his keys into the little bowl your mother kept in the entry way. your mother stood up from the armchair right when kai dragged his feet into the living room. with a loud sigh he let himself drop into the armchair. not acknowledging dabi or you, he turned to your mother. “dinner’s not ready, yet?” his tone was cutting, too familiar. and not only to you.

“in a minute”, your mother called out from the kitchen. “why don’t you guys go ahead and sit down, hm?”

from the corner of his eyes dabi could easily see how this guy’s presence had shifted the entire energy of the room for you. your body tensed, when he stood up and made his way to the dining table and your eyes followed his every move. dabi stood up before you did, knocking you out of your thoughts. you jumped from the couch, still hesitant to move toward where kai was. he recognized your behavior far too quickly for his own liking.

keep an eye on her mom’s boyfriend.

tomura’s words rang in his ears. subconsciously he found himself moving to shield your body from his view. it wasn’t like the guy was actively doing anything, but if your reaction to his presence alone was anything to go by, he knew that he had to at least keep his guard up. you had asked him to come with you for a reason and slowly but surely the pieces started falling into place.

“y/n!” her voice startled you. after a good twenty minutes of pretending like you didn’t exist, you hadn’t expected her to address you directly. “at least make yourself somewhat useful and help me in the kitchen. honestly, who raised you?” she huffed a few more times, even as she saw you actively making your way across the living room to help her. dabi debated for a few seconds, if he should come with you, but ultimately decided against it. he figured that it was smarter to figure out what the boyfriend’s deal was. not letting the guy out of his sight once, he sat at the table. the guy didn’t seem interested in finding out who he was in the slightest – or being here at all for that matter.

“you know, you could have offered to help on your own.”

she had been hovering over you from the moment you had entered the kitchen. monitoring your every movement, while you were doing exactly what she was asking of you. you had learned over the years, that keeping your head down was your best bet. she had you set the table and put the takeout she had ordered into dishes, so she could pretend like she’d made it. even though, you were unsure who exactly she felt the need to pretend in front of. her eyes were following your every move, scrutinizing every sleight of hand, like you were disarming bombs and not taking forks out of the top drawer. Surprisingly she let you walk out of the kitchen with the main dish in your hand without making another comment on how you were holding the dish wrong or how you had better not drop it.

and when you finally were in your chair, sitting next to dabi with your mother across from you, you still couldn’t feel any less at ease. for the entire dinner, even though he barely grumbled out a word, you could feel kai glaring at you. other than the obvious uncomfortable tension the dinner went somewhat smoothly. the moment kai got his plate of food, that was the only thing he really focused on. you preferred that over him yelling or chucking glasses at you, so you weren’t about to complain. your mother was a little less obvious about excluding you from the conversation, now. she all but made up for it with her commentary on your life choices.

“so, excuse my bluntness, dabi”, she poured herself another glass of wine. kai had gotten up to get his third beer from the kitchen. “but your band, is that really enough to pay the bills?”

“mom!” your eyes widened. you couldn’t believe that she would just ask that. she looked at you, as if she were completely unaware how her question came off.

dabi smiled at her, still. at this point you were amazed at his ability to keep it up that effortlessly. “it’s alright, princess” he said quietly, though deliberately loud enough, so your mother heard it. in any other situation you would have cussed him out for so casually dropping a nickname like that. he turned back to her. “sure, ‘s not like i’m starving or anything”, he shrugged.

your mother nodded and for a second you thought, that’d be the end of that topic. but alas, when had you ever gotten what you wanted? “that’s good. i mean, it’s not like you waste your entire day scribbling nonsense.” she didn’t need to look at you, for you two know what exactly she meant. and yet, she did. she knew you weren’t going to say anything. especially not with kai on his way back from the kitchen. “guess not, though my sister studied art in school and she’s a really good art teacher now.” your mother didn’t say anything after that.

you were afraid to turn to see if maybe he was looking at you. he wasn’t. he did however nudge you lightly with his knee. you appreciated, that he had gone out of his way to spite her for basically the entire night so far, you just hoped, that it would stay at the somewhat manageable level of tense.

most of the dinner was considerably uneventful. your mother even became less passive aggressive about you, though she still talked over you, whenever you answered a question of hers. kai was quiet except for scoffing at every other sentence of yours. dabi remained as polite as ever, not once letting his tone waver, even though he could feel his annoyance for your mother fester within him. he opted to just talk directly to you, whenever she deliberately walked all over you.

“anyway”, she loudly interrupted, when you talked about your new job at the black wing. “how are you liking the noodles, dabi?” he put his fork down and looked up with the very same sickly sweet smile etched onto his face. “it’s really good, ma’am.” your mother smiled, satisfied with his answer. “pretty sure we have the same chinese joint back home.” the way her smile dropped in that very second could almost have been comical if you didn’t have kai’s glare burning into your side.

“that’s the place with the good spring rolls, that you liked so much. wasn’t it?” he was looking at you now. his smile was so gentle that you almost believed it was genuine. he waited, too. with his stupid soft smile and these eyes you could feel yourself sink into; he fucking waited for you to answer. “oh yeah”, you tried your best to match the ease in dabi’s smile – somewhat successfully anyway. “i love that place.” with a huff your mother decided to drop the conversation. she wasn’t one to admit defeat, but you decided to count that as one of the moments where she had no other choice.

with dabi at your side dinner went by faster, than you thought it would. faster than you believed, you found yourself back in the kitchen helping your mother clean up. she had washed exactly one plate before leaving you in the kitchen alone; her excuse being that she had to find ibuprofen for her headache. dabi hung around in the kitchen, helping you with clean-up, though you’d told him more than a couple times that “it’s fine.” and “i can just do it myself.” he reached over you to stow away the clean glass in the cabinet above your head. “i know you do.” his arm barely brushed your shoulder on its way back down. “doesn’t mean you have to.” you weren’t sure if he was still referring to the dishes.

he leaned against the doorframe with a dramatic sigh. “acting like your mother isn’t a total bitch, is fucking exhausting.” his voice was quiet but loud enough for you to hear. “join me for a smoke, pretty?” you were about to remind him, that he didn’t need to act like this when your mother wasn’t there. then you remembered that, unfortunately, this seemed to be dabi’s default setting.

you would like nothing more than to get out of this stuffy house and breathe air that wasn’t heavy and thick with the tension of your childhood having rotted away within these walls for the past 19 years. but you knew that your mother would most likely flip her shit if she came down and saw you weren’t in the kitchen anymore. not that you were particularly fond of being alone in here, but kai would probably be a while before he would be back from getting more beer from the 7/11 down the street.

“i really don’t want her seeing me smoke.” you forced an apologetic smile. “but you go ahead, you deserved it.” the pit in your stomach grew against your will. you had been thinking it this entire time, but saying these exact words, made you realize how much you were putting dabi through tonight. you’d robbed him of a saturday night, forcing him to witness your family drama, as if he were a guest star on some trashy tv drama.

“you sure?”

“yes.”

dabi hesitated before he left, making sure that both your mother and kai were nowhere near you. he stayed planted right next to the front door and gave himself three minutes to finish his cigarette. and yet a minute and a half in – his cigarette barely burned out by a third – he felt like something was wrong. kai hadn’t crossed his path on his way back home yet, but dabi couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. he carelessly tossed his cigarette in the driveway. in any other place he would have probably bothered to pick it up, but he felt like being a dick to your mother, if he couldn’t be to her face. he opened the front door back up. it slowly fell shut behind him, followed by a sharp thud coming from the kitchen. the sound, all too familiar, made every single hair on the back of his neck stand up.

you were only somewhat aware of your surroundings, when dabi left. you figured nothing was going to happen in the few minutes he took to finish a cigarette. though a part of you regretted not joining him out there. it was quiet for a minute or so. you assumed that your mother had decided to just lay down – some part of you hoped, that she did because dabi had continuously outwitted her tonight. you barely caught yourself snorting out a laugh, thinking back at how much your mother had to force herself not to flip out.

“glad you still have shit to laugh about.”

you didn’t need to turn to the kitchen door to know who that voice belonged to. the sharp and deep tone, rumbled through your bones with the heaviness of an earthquake. his steps were heavy as he closed the distance to you in the blink of an eye. your body turned instinctively searching for a way past him, but before you could make your first step he was already towering in front of you. kai had always been tall and broad but in this moment he felt so much taller; so much broader and you could all but shrink before him.

“look, kai–” “don’t even start with me.”

his arms crossed in front of his chest. his entire body was blocking your way to the kitchen door intentionally caging you between him and the kitchen counter, you were pressing your back into.

“you really think you can just waltz in here without even lookin’ at me?” he almost spat at you. “still waitin’ on that apology by the way.”

“you know what, you’re so right.” in an unprecedented spur of bravery, you heard yourself scoff at him. “i am so sorry that my shoulder got in the way of the wall and the glass you threw.”

your mouth had said the words before your brain could have told it how shitty that idea was. kai’s eyes narrowed, his teeth clenched. it was more than obvious, that he was seething. he took another step toward you. by now you were sure that you were going to get bruises on your lower back from how deeply the edge of the counter was digging into it.

“i’d be careful if i were you,” his warm, intoxicated breath hitting your face sent cold shivers down your spine. “you do not want to see how this plays out.”

you looked up at him trying your hardest not to make the tremble of your limbs too noticeable. “i don’t know what more you want from me.” as much as you struggled, for now you managed to keep the eye contact up. “i sent mom the money days ago and i’m sorry about us fighting and your glass getting broken, but that wasn’t all on me.”

by now you could practically see the steam coming from his ears and the rage that filled his glare.

“not on you?!” your head flinched away at the bellow of his voice. you weren’t sure if you had imagined it, but you thought to have heard yourself wince, too. “you were being a thoughtless bitch, yet again, and i had to deal with it, yet again, but it’s ‘not on you’?”

all this over yet another stupid argument you’d had with kai, you thought. you really shouldn’t be surprised at his reaction. and the truth was, you weren’t. but that didn’t mean that his barks wouldn’t turn into bites soon. it had happened before.

“but i di­–”

her breath hitched hearing the sudden smack against the counter. kai’s hand had crashed down on the marble counter only inches away from her body. she jumped back her weight now almost entirely perched against the cold surface.

dabi had rushed over to the kitchen the very moment he had heard the all too familiar sound. and what he found when he reached its origin, couldn’t have been any more familiar to him. kai had his hand raised in a way he’d seen so many times before. his hand was raised the same way enji had raised his against rei – and shoto, soon enough. he had hit the counter first, but dabi knew better than to wait out the second one. the second hit was seldom as forgiving.

“sorry to interrupt, but i have a bit of a family emergency and we need to leave right away.”

both you and kai turned to dabi the very second, he had spoken. you had been so on edge the entire time that you had no strength left to stop the sigh of relief from leaving your body when you saw him. his lips were pulled into the very same smile he’d worn all night, but it did not reach his eyes. his eyes were ice cold, as if his stare alone had the strength to freeze kai in place. he didn’t take his eyes away from the man once. not even breaking eye-contact when you hushed past kai and to dabi’s side. the moment you stood beside him, his body moved in front of you just slightly. you saw then that even though his body language looked akin to somebody just making casual conversation, every muscle in his body was tense. it made you wonder just how much he had seen.

“i apologize for having to cut the evening short.” dabi’s back was shielding you from seeing kai’s reaction. “please give my best to y/n’s mother.”

dabi didn’t wait for kai to respond. he let you toward the hallway with his hand hovering over your back. as much as his hand was there to guide you out of the house, he never actually let it touch you.

you only let go of the breath you had been holding since your first initial sigh of relief, when you were outside. all the way over to his car, you didn’t allow yourself to look at him. always walking just a half step behind him, as soon as he had dropped his hand from beneath your back. he wasn’t actively looking to make eye contact with you, either. he knew the look on your face, all too well.

without a second thought he opened the door for you. you slipped in, eyes hitting the floor about as quickly as your feet did. and it stayed that way for the entire drive. he glanced at you at every other red light, checking for signs that you wanted to talk about it. he chose to drop it though, when he saw your eyes locked on the skin you were picking at around your nails.

the only time you looked at him was the moment you stepped out of the car parked right in front of your apartment building. and he almost wished that you didn’t.

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