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Rescue Me

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You grit your teeth hard, biting back a scream at the pain crushing down on your leg. A heavy, structural beam lay over your shin and knee, rendering you immobile. You try to shift your upper body further up, but the beam obstinately disagrees and tears sting your eyes at the excruciating pressure. Your hands push at the slab of concrete, but it doesn’t even budge. Low, whining creaks strain the structure around you, threatening to give way at any moment.

One minute you’re packing up the last of your shop’s wares to be relocated later this week, then a villain and a hero are fighting right outside your shop’s windows, and the next thing you know your shell of a shop is torn apart from a massive explosion. All of the windows are shattered, your front door has been reduced to splinters, and the surrounding framing is now rubble piling the floor.

Smoke and dust travel across the floor, throwing you into a coughing fit that rattles your body and pain shoots up your leg, pulling an agonized yelp out of you. Your muscles seize involuntarily and you’re greeted with even more pain.

The fighting between the hero and the villain had gone silent, and you can only pray that the hero had won and is still in the vicinity.

“Help!” You call out desperately, straining yourself to peer over the piles of rubble for any signs of life.

“…the fuck?” You barely hear someone say, their voice muffled behind the rubble. You nearly cry in relief.

“Help me!” You call again, louder. Fallen rocks of cement are pushed away roughly, and soon you see a messy tuft of ash blonde hair poke into your destroyed shop. Crimson eyes surrounded by a black mask look around curiously before falling on your form and widening.

“Shit!”

The man acts quickly, shoving away the rest of the rubble so he can get to you. He’s clad in a hero costume, lean and muscular and strong. You’re saved! Your hero kneels next to you, examining the beam that pins you to the ground. You watch him in anticipation, almost dreamily waiting for his words of comfort and kindness. When he looks back at you, he’s glaring.

“Why the fuck are you here?!” He yells. You blink. That’s not what you were expecting.

“Um…”

“The fucking door says this store fucking relocated! It was supposed to be empty in here, damn it! The hell?!” He spews like a sailor. You gawk at him. The Disney-inspired fantasy of your knight in shining armor is as effectively crushed as your leg.

“Just because the store is relocated doesn’t mean employees can’t come in here!” You bite back, still in disbelief at his behavior.

“In the middle of the god damn night?!”

Ok sure, that's a fair point, but you were just trying to do something nice for your boss and pack up the last of the wares for her so after you had dinner you headed straight here. There was a lot of knick knacks to be distracted by in the store and your suppose you lost track of time. You also may have forgotten that the reason the store was relocating was because of how dangerous this part of town is at night, the shop having been broken into four times since it was opened here two years ago. But he doesn't need to know that!

“I was—… You— ugh, just help me out of this already!” You shout, gritting your teeth. He’s lucky this beam is crushing you otherwise you’d smack the hell out of this guy!

The man makes an irritated noise, before turning back to your leg. He positions himself above the beam and braces his hands over it. “I’m gonna lift. You make yourself useful and get out from under, got it?”

Crushed leg be damned, this guy is the real pain.

He lifts, grunting against the weight of the beam. Slowly, you feel the pressure ease and you will never admit ever that you’re impressed at his strength. As soon as you have enough room, you use your arms to brace against the ground and slide your body backwards. The dragging movement makes you hiss in pain, but you are finally freed. The man drops the beam and looks at you.

“You gonna get up?” He asks, though his tone isn’t entirely impatient. You feel at your leg and gasp out in pain when you reach your shin. He watches you carefully.

“I…think it’s broken.” You answer, looking up at him. He sighs and kneels back down at your side. His arm slides around your back and beneath your thighs.

“Tell me if it hurts.” He mutters before lifting you up into his arms. Your leg is throbbing with both sharp and dull pains, but otherwise the hero is doing well at not aggravating your injury. Carefully, he navigates the destroyed shop while carrying you. “Cops are coming to get that dumb villain. They usually bring an ambulance too. Should be here soon.” He grumbles at you.

“What’s your name?” You ask, looking up into his fierce gaze. Brash as he is, this man did just save you.

“…Katsuki.” He answers. You weren’t expecting him to give you his real name. It’s a nice name.

“Thank you…” You say quietly to him, “for saving me, Katsuki.”

“…” He says nothing.

The cops arrive quickly, and true to Katsuki’s prediction, and ambulance arrived on the scene as well. Katsuki lays you onto the gurney and the paramedics begin fastening a splint to your leg. An officer comes to take a report from Katsuki; he looks at your destroyed shop with something of an amused look.

“Honestly, I’m impressed. You usually blow up a lot more than this. Nice work, Ground Zero.”

Ground Zero. You’d heard that name before. Passing customers and articles online have all talked about the hot-headed hero who can produce… explosions…as his quirk…

“Wait, you blew up my store?” You ask incredulously. All this time you thought the damage was caused by the villain he fought, but it was him! If you didn’t know better, you might have thought you saw Katsuki flinch just now.

“Look it would have been a hell of a lot worse if I didn’t fuck that villain up as soon as I could, so just shut up and be grateful!” He shouts back at you. You scoff and shake your head.

“Unbelievable. You’re such a brat…”

“The fuck did you just call me?! Your dumb store relocated, so it’s not like there was any real harm done anyway!”

You give him an exasperated look before gesturing wildly at your broken leg. This time you know you are not mistaken when you see him flinch.

“That’s—!” He has no argument and falls silent, tossing his head to the side and avoiding your gaze. His fist clenches.

He feels bad.

You sigh. “(Name).”

He turns to look at you again, eyes narrowing in confusion. You give him a small smile.

“My name.” Your smile turns into a devious smirk. “For you to know who to ask for at the hospital so you can spend the duration of my recovery making this up to me!”

“Hah?!”

 

Chapter Text

He had been assigned to find and evaluate potential recruits for the League of Villains. The ‘Boss’ had his own list of names for Dabi to look into in addition to his own field work, and he was disappointingly underwhelmed by each name he ended up crossing off the list. None of them had the right ideals, the right quirks, or the right skill to avoid being reduced to ashes by Dabi’s burning, blue flames. That was the test after all—if these wannabes couldn’t even last more than five minutes against himself, they didn’t belong in the League.

The current name on his list is Tenjin Masakawa, but he goes by the name Animosity due to his quirk of taking on the physical traits of animals. It’s a quirk with a wide range of use which can be beneficial to the League, so Dabi takes to watching him carefully. He spends most of his time in an underground fighting ring—not fighting himself, to Dabi’s surprise, but organizing and managing the money and enforcing. He’s a business man, likely with roots in the Yakuza or even the Mafia given his partial Italian heritage, and he is ruthless. As far as Dabi can tell, the man has no real ambition other than having as much money, drugs, and prostitutes as possible and as many people under his thumb to dispose of like chess pawns as he pleased. It’s disgusting.

That just makes it all the more surprising when he sees you for the first time. Animosity finally left the fighting ring after a couple of days and made his way to a luxurious home on the edge of town. Dabi hadn’t expected him to a have a wife waiting for him there; he didn’t seem like the type. You look fragile and meek beside the hulking beast that was Animosity, and when you speak to him your voice is as gentle as the rest of you looked. However, the hideous purple and blue bruising littering your body is anything but gentle. You are careful to avoid direct eye contact and keep your bandaged hands behind your back at all times, presenting your front in a show of submission commonly used among animals. It’s pitiful.

His blue eyes watch on with blazing intensity as Animosity raises his clawed hand, as you flinch in anticipation, as the loud crack of his blow rings through the slightly open window to his home, and as you disappear from his sight when you fall.

For a moment Animosity looks burning red and you look wintry white and Dabi feels a familiar terrible pit in his stomach.

It’s absolutely repulsive.

He steels himself. He’s not that person anymore. That’s not his past anymore.

Animosity barks an order at you, but it’s muffled and Dabi can’t hear it, before he leaves you and goes upstairs. Dabi doesn’t follow his trail this time; instead, he stays still and watches through the window. He feels his calves burn from the stretch to see past the windowsill to the floor where you lay, but he forced his heels back to the ground before he sees you.

He’s not that person anymore.

But still he doesn’t move until he sees you pick yourself up from the ground, three jagged claw marks freshly bleeding from your cheek and fresher tears burning in your eyes. You bite your quivering lip for a moment before taking a deep, shaky breath. You push the tears down and head down the hall.

Dabi does follow this time, adjusting around the corner of the gated house to peer through the bathroom window (he briefly notes how unwise it is to have all your windows open). He watches as you tend to your wound, disinfecting it and wrapping it up. You then pause for a moment, just staring at your own reflection in the mirror. Dabi stares at you just as observantly.

You then turn and your eyes almost meet his; he has to duck away to ensure he isn’t seen, but he still can’t stop himself from watching you. His heart races as your eyes search where he was just seconds ago and for a moment he fears his cover is blown until he realizes you are looking less outside and more at the window itself, as if just now realizing that it is open. The look on your face reads distress as you quickly reach over and draw the blinds.

Dabi is quick to follow you around the perimeter of your home as you rush from window to window, drawing the curtains over them all. He sees you take a bottle of nearly black beer from the fridge and a thick cigar from the counter before drawing the curtains on the final window and watches your silhouette fade from view as you finally go upstairs to Animosity.

He pauses when he hears the muffled bellows of the animal you’re dealing with, and his fists clench tightly as the sound stirs repressed memories. Without being able to look at you, the memories are stronger stimulated by the sound of shouts and breaking glass. His hands heat up as he feels rage and buried anguish surface in his chest; the feeling of his childhood clawing painfully at his ankles for attention has him all but sprinting away from your home.

He needs a drink.

*

Dabi is watching Animosity again, but despite his denial he realizes he’s looking more for a window of opportunity and less for intel. He knows all he needed to know. He decides today is a good enough day; he doesn’t feel like wasting more than a second day on someone he is sure would be a failed candidate, plus an aggravated fighter picked a fight with Animosity tonight and the brute got a nasty wound on his ribs from it before he could break the fighter’s neck.

He follows the limping beast home, noticing how agitated he is the whole way as he destroys public property at random and shouts at anyone who even glances his way. He’s also been so hunched over that it nearly looks like he’s bounding on all fours. When he arrives home, he is screaming your name before he even enters the doorway. You’re quick to appear before him, looking both meek and courageous all at the same time.

“Fix this!” Animosity roars dangerously. You hold reluctance in your eyes. You’ve been in this situation before. The man in front of you is a wounded animal; he knows you can aid him, but his instincts insist that you stay away. You’ve endured many injuries when he’s like this, and it’s all the more frustrating because you don’t even want to help him in the first place. Your hesitance enrages Animosity, and the next thing both you and Dabi see is his enormous hand wrapped tightly around your throat, sharp teeth bared. Your eyes widen as your mouth gapes, trying desperately to draw in air.

Dabi decides to initiate the test now.

In an instant, Dabi blows down your door in a rush of blue flames. You stare at him in shock, but Animosity quickly reacts and snarls viciously. He swings his arm and rips a gash into Dabi’s chest, knocking him back. Dabi lets out a pained grunt; a wounded beast is much more dangerous than a calm one.

“This is my territory. Beat it, two legs!”

To Hell with the test, Dabi decides. Hot flames lick up Dabi’s hands and arms as he grins maliciously at the man in front of you. You act quickly, digging your heel into the wound on Animosity’s side, making him howl and throw you to the ground in response. Before he can tear you apart, the blue flames rush to engulf him completely. He screams and roars in pain, writhing and falling until he is nothing more than a charred husk on the floor. You stare at his body in horror, the smell of burning flesh overwhelming you.

The man controlling the fire doesn’t move; his striking blue eyes just stare at you, almost as bright as the fire slowly dying out in his hands. You notice his black, messy hair and the decayed, scarred skin beneath his eyes and along the expanse of his jaw held together with metal staples. You watch as crimson blood wets and stains the front of his white T-shirt, but his face betrays no weakness. You stand on wobbly feet, clumsily making your way to him and carefully avoiding the smoking body heaped on the ground. He doesn’t move still, but his ever ignited eyes pierce you and never stray.

You stop just inches from him and let out a shaky breath as you finally break the eye contact, instead directing your gaze to his wound. You bring your hands up and suddenly a shimmering bio-field covers the expanse of his broken flesh. Within seconds, he felt the tingling sensation of his skin coming back together, sealing as if it had never been sliced open to begin with. When you drop your hands, Dabi peels away the collar of his shirt, still wet with his own blood, and is shocked to see no injury (well, aside from the scarring that had marred his skin for years now). He gazes back at you to ask about it but stops when he sees your expression.

“You saved me…” You whisper softly, eyes still trained on his chest where his wound once was, “You’re my hero.”

The word ‘hero’ snaps Dabi out of it and he lets out an amused laugh, surprising you. “I'm no hero, doll.” He says simply, a smirk still tugging at his lips. As he stares at you, an idea forms.

The League could use a healer like you.

Excitement sparks within him as he brings his hand to your neck, wiping the blood from where Animosity’s claws had pierced your flesh. Slowly, his own hand closes gently around your throat, making you gasp softly. Your doe eyes watch him carefully, but trust still lies within them. Trust.

You’d follow him anywhere, you both start to realize, because he saved you.

“Come with me.” He commands softly, smirk widening when your eyes go big.

Who would’ve thought that when he got sent out to recruit some vile beast for the League, he’d end up taking a little lamb home instead?

“Yes…” You answer breathily, eyes fearless and gentle as they gazed back at him admiringly.

For a moment, Dabi feels protective of you. He thinks about the way you called him a hero, a ghost of a smile gracing your lips, and a warm fire burned within him.

His hand tightens slightly on your throat as he guides your face to his, just inches away. He barely hears the soft sigh coming from you and feels your breath on his skin. A wild grin spreads across his face at the deliciously innocent look on your face.

He’s not that person anymore.

His hand relaxes and instead goes to cup the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair and thumb pressing against the skin behind your ear. You watch him through half-lidded eyes.

Right?

Chapter Text

“If you sense even a hint of a lie from this guy, tell me immediately and I’ll incinerate him. No questions asked.” Your dual-textured “coworker” of sorts  says for the upteenth time today from beside you. You sigh at him and try not to roll your eyes, instead focusing on where you’re walking in the nearly pitch-black alleyway.

“Yeah, for the millionth time I know, Dabi. I mean, it’s not like it’s the only reason I’m even here or anything.” You remark sarcastically, mood only souring when you feel yourself step in what you can only hope is a puddle (though it hasn’t rained in weeks). 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dabi says dismissively, “I’m just on edge with this. Can you blame me? He’s a fucking hero .” He spits the last word out like it was poisonous. 

“I know…” You say quietly. It’s not just Dabi that hates heroes, it’s the whole League of Villains of course. Well, minus Spinner to an extent.

And yourself. 

You grew up in a family of good people; people who dedicated their lives to helping others whether through law enforcement, the medical field, or education-- you even have a cousin who went around the world building homes and feeding those in need. You admired your brother, Naomasa, most of all. As a detective, he delivered justice to people who committed horrible crimes and never let a single innocent person be wrongly accused. You were so happy when your quirk manifested to be like his; if someone lies to you while you’re touching them, you get a pronounced ringing in your ears like an alarm. You planned to join the force when you got older and be just like him someday. 

Life had… other plans for you. 

When you were 14, you were “recruited” into some group they called the League of Villains. By “recruited”, you mean to say you were kidnapped and they made it look like you were murdered ( grotesquely murdered with remains too decayed to be identified) so no one came looking for you.

A man cloaked in a purple gaseous substance-— or perhaps he was gas— and dressed in the classy wardrobe of a high-end bartender introduced himself as Kurogiri. He explained to you how their leader (“ master ” a boy no older than yourself fitfully corrected the shadowy man) had been gravely injured and that they needed to strengthen their forces while he recovered. You were to help them make powerful allies and sniff out any enemies with your quirk and they would be so kind as to refrain from murdering your entire family in return.

And so here you’ve been, doing the League’s dirty work ever since. You’re 22 now and a trusted member of the League, recruiting members with Dabi or gathering intel on Tartarus with Toga or Twice. Your quirk has developed from using it so often; you no longer need to touch people to hear the ringing if they’re lying, though you’ve told no one about it to keep yourself at an advantage in this den of snakes. You doubt they’d be happy to hear it anyway— it makes it harder for them to control you. 

Dabi’s snort of amusement breaks you out of your thoughts, “Heh. Bird-brain has no idea we have a lie detector in the League. I almost want to tell him before you use your quirk, just to see that panicked look in his eyes. In fact, I think I will…” 

Tonight, you’re going with Dabi to meet with a hero who claims to want to join the League and work as a double-agent. 

You try to mask the hollowness in your voice when you laugh along with him. It’s no surprise he already thinks this will be a bust. Despite his outwardly laidback nature, Dabi is one of the most guarded, cautious people you’ve ever met. He hardly trusts anyone, so he takes you practically everywhere “just to be sure”. You two have gotten pretty close as a result. You don’t understand how anyone as sharp as Dabi can follow Shigaraki, or anyone for that matter. 

“You never know. He might be the real deal.” You reply. You don’t tell Dabi that it doesn’t matter. You certainly don’t tell Dabi that you plan on telling him the hero’s lying about wanting to join the League even when he’s not.

“If he is, I don’t know how he can stand to pretend to be one of those pathetic frauds, and the one in second place even. The way he panders to that bastard in first is disgusting.” He scoffs. 

“He’ll help us take him down if he’s telling the truth.” 

“... I’d rather roast them both.” 

Well, Dabi will get half his wish tonight no matter what. You’ll make sure of that. You suppress the guilt weighing on your heart by telling yourself it’s for the greater good. The League can’t get their hands on a pawn as valuable as a pretend hero. 

It’s not like you  want to kill him, even if he is a fake hero, but are you supposed to just let him into the League so he could quite literally stab good people in the back? Your family— your brother — would never stand for something like that. Neither will you. You may be forced to work for them, but you aren’t a villain. 

Or… Maybe you are. 

For killing him. Them... so many would-be recruits reduced to ash by your false testimony that they weren’t true. 

You hated yourself each time you lied, each time you heard their agonised screams, each time you smelled the burning flesh. But you couldn’t… you can’t let the League get stronger than it already has. They have plans to do terrible things. They want destruction and chaos and misery. They want everything good in the world to die. 

You were stupid to believe they’d keep your family alive. If they’re not already dead, they will be with this “new world” Shigaraki wants along with his “master”, All For One. 

You’ve done enough to aid them as it is. You recruited these faithful followers of Stain into the League despite the shrill ringing in your ears when Shigaraki convinced them he followed Stain too. You allowed Compress, Muscular, even Moonfish into the League to protect your family. You raised alarms on failed recruits who tried to turn their back on the League when they were just looking for a quick buck and saw what they’d gotten into; the “weak of heart” All For One called them, as he transported them somewhere to be turned horrifically into Nomus. 

You did it all. 

You’ve done enough

You can’t stand by any longer. You’ll do everything you can to protect the world of innocents and preserve the truly good in the world, not destroy it all and plunge the world into chaos like Shigaraki wants. By getting rid of this traitor of heroes, you’ll stop the League from having a powerful ally and you’ll stop this fake hero from defiling justice. It’ll be like killing two birds with one stone. 

Finally, you and Dabi step inside the abandoned warehouse at the end of the alleyway. The moonlight reaches you for the first time, spilling into the  windows of the building and brokenly illuminating the room inside with an eerie glow. 

“Kept me waiting long enough.” A voice calls, echoing through the structure’s shell. You don’t see anyone around and you glance at Dabi in confusion, however he looks unfazed as he stares up into the rafters. You follow his gaze and spot him; the abnormally large shadow of a man perched atop one of the beams as he hunches to stare down at you. The moonlight doesn’t quite reach him, but your slowly adjusting sight make out his shadow expanding before your eyes until finally you see the moonlight catch vibrant red feathers. 

Wings. 

It’s Hawks.

He drops to the ground, but it’s almost as if he hovers and instead floats gently down with mesmerizing grace. His wings are fully outstretched on either side of him, gorgeous and intimidating, and his piercing golden eyes glint in the moonlight as he looks between you and Dabi. He looks like an angel. 

But he’s not, you remind yourself. He’s here, fraternizing and making deals with demons. 

No, he’s no angel. 

“You didn’t mention there’d be another.” The man says to Dabi as his grand wings tuck in behind himself. He looks down at you with his eyes of molten gold, looking much like a bird zeroing in on its prey. 

“Got a problem with it?” Dabi retorts, a vexing smirk playing on his lips and his bright blue eyes never leaving the blond man in front of you. The man tilts his head just slightly in response, a gloved hand reaching up to adjust the goggles resting on his collar bones. The angled black points in the inner corner of his eyes make his gaze look sharp as he sizes you up. 

“No problem. Just hoped you’d trusted me a little more.” He responds with the same relaxed expression he always has on TV, scratching at the scruff on his chin. 

“Heh. Trust is the whole reason she’s here, blondie. Time to see if you really are what you say you are.” Dabi answers, hardly suppressing a snicker. Hawks merely stares at him.

“What do you mean?” 

“Her quirk lets her detect lies by touching someone.” Dabi answers, eyes wide and alight with sadistic amusement. You hear the brief ruffling of Hawks’s feathers and his head turns to look at you. His expression is difficult to read, which you’re sure Dabi must be disappointed with. You see his head has tucked down into the wide collar of his coat as if to hide, but it’s far too subtle to tell for sure. 

“Oh?” Is all he hums out, voice steady and airy like it always is. Dabi scowls a little bit, but nods.


“Yep. Only way to be sure you’re telling the truth about wanting to be part of the League. You do still want in, right? Or have you had a sudden change of heart?” Dabi asks mockingly. For the first time, you see a hint of distress on Hawks’s face as his brow furrows just slightly and the muscles in his jaw jump when it tenses for just a moment.

“I want in.” Hawks says firmly, looking Dabi dead in the eye with fierce resolution. 

You hear no ringing. 

You close your eyes and try to hide your disappointment. 

Fuck... Why are you disappointed? You were expecting this. Why does it still hurt? 

Is it because he’s a hero— or supposed to be a hero? You’ve seen so much darkness and evil in the last eight years. It would have been nice to see some good for once. 

It would have been...

Dabi calls your name impatiently. You snap out of your thoughts, trying desperately to hold yourself together as you look at him. He just raises an eyebrow at you and cocks his head at Hawks.

Oh.

Oh, right. 

You still have to touch him. You haven’t used your quirk yet because you haven’t touched him, you remind yourself. Are you trying to blow your only secret or something? 

You step closer to Hawks and hold your hand out to him, palm facing up. Hawk hesitates for a nearly indiscernible moment before  bringing his hand up.

“Gloves off.” Dabi snaps before Hawks can lay his hand in yours. Hawks glances sideways at him before looking directly at you, his gaze boring into yours with such intensity. You can’t break his bright topaz stare even as he takes his glove off. He places his hand into yours and you feel the warmth of his skin and the roughness of his callouses. You both take in a deep breath at the same time, bracing yourselves. 

“Hawks, are you dedicated to the League and its cause?” You ask.


“Yes.” 

You hear a low ringing in your ears and close your eyes to focus. That can’t be. Ringing? It’s wavering and relatively quiet, but it’s there. But he just said he wanted in, and that was true. This doesn’t make sense. Maybe it’s just the empty silence in the room. You ask another question just to be sure. 

“Are you willing to betray the heroes and commit yourself to the League?”

‘Damn it. Why is she dragging this out… ?’ Hawks wonders to himself. He’s caught. Before he can even do anything to help the rest of the heroes, he’s caught. ‘Damn it, damn it, damn it.

“Yes.” He answers, despite himself. Maybe while you’re alerting Dabi he can get out of there somehow. 

Shrill ringing. So loud it’s painful. You muffle your gasp. 

The next question you ask for the sake of the hope swelling in your chest like a volcano about to erupt. 

“Are you a hero?” 

A hero? That’s so abstract, how is he even supposed to answer that? That’s his job title, sure, but the way you asked it seemed much deeper than that, and it’s definitely not like he feels very heroic right now. No, he feels more like a boy who’s flying too close to the sun. Hawks feels overwhelmingly frustrated with this situation, itching to spring into action and get out of this dangerous situation and confused as hell as to why you’re still asking questions, but at least this answer will probably be true. 

“No.” 

 

. . . 

 

Hawks’s feathers ruffle in anticipation. Dabi’s flames flicker around his wrist. 

“He’s telling the truth.” You announce to Dabi. 

‘What? Wait, what?!’ Hawks stares at you, eyes widened. Dabi grits his teeth and swears under his breath, flames slowly burning out. 

“Tch. Fine, but we’ll see if you’re still so loyal in a week.” Dabi growls, glaring at the man in front of you before turning away towards the door we came through. “Stay close to Endeavor. I’ll be in touch.” 

You follow him as he walks out, but can’t stop yourself from risking a glance back at Hawks. He’s still standing there watching after you. You stare back at him for a moment and turn around, leaving Hawks behind you, alive and well. 

Why would you do that?’ Hawks wonders to himself. ‘You could have told Dabi. You should have told Dabi.’ 

You clearly have no loyalty to the League. You’re giving him this chance to ruin them. Hawks realizes then that you’ve tied your fate with his by doing this, and he almost wishes you hadn’t done it. When the truth comes out, and it will, you’ll be in terrible danger. 

He’ll save you, Hawks vows. He will. 

In the darkened alleyway, you follow Dabi back to the hideout. You don’t regret what you did, not one single bit.

“...-’s side he’s really on.” Dabi’s voice slowly fills your ears as you regain your hearing. The memory of the last deafening ring still echoes in your mind as you hum along absentmindedly in agreement to whatever Dabi was saying. 

You think of beautiful red wings and angelic golden eyes, and smile. 

Chapter Text

Hey guys! So I'm taking requests now, but there are few things I want to mention as guidelines, info, and rules. So here we go!

 

******** First and foremost: I will only accept requests on this page/chapter or my tumblr page at https://imagine-myhero.tumblr.com ********

 

What I Do:

-Reader-Inserts 
-NSFW (only F!Reader for now until I feel I can write M! Reader better :( Sorry ) 
-SFW
-AUs

What I Don’t Do:

-Yandere
-Rape(will do some dub con / consensual roleplay)
-Incest
-Any NSFW to do with non-standard bodily fluids
-Character x Character (for now… may change in the future) 

My Favorite Characters:
aka the character requests likely to have quicker turnarounds lol:

-Bakugo Katsuki
-Shouto Todoroki
-Shinsou Hitoshi
-Mirio Togata
-Hawks
-Dabi

Other Important Info:

-I follow the manga so I can write in context of any part of the plot
-Requests will be done as I have the inspiration to write them, not necessarily in the order received. I will let you know if I cannot complete your request for any reason. 
- I have an bit of a more expanded list of other types of writing I'll do on my tumblr, so follow me there for more stuff! (https://imagine-myhero.tumblr.com)
-If you’re unsure about whether or not I’ll do something, just ask away! I’m nice :)

 

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Chapter Text

“Please, don’t do this!” You beg through hysterical tears as the people who once looked at you with kind smiles and warm eyes now forcefully drag you across the autumn dirt to the town center with frenzied, hateful expressions. You resist and struggle as much as you can, but you’re not nearly strong enough to break free. “I’m not a witch, I swear!” You insist, but all your pleading and screams fall on deaf ears. 

“Don’t gaze upon her! You will fall under her wicked spell! Avert your eyes and ears, all of you!” A man cries out to the crowd who roars in agreement and anger. It’s the man who brought this terrible fate upon you, staring down at you with cold and cruel eyes. You fall limp in despair, tears running down your face without abandon.

How could this happen? 

What have you done to deserve such a fate?

Soon, you see the mounds of dry straw and kindling surrounding a scorched wooden stake in front of the courthouse. Your blood chills and your heart sinks to your stomach. Fear, pure unadulterated fear courses through you and you dig your heels in the ground, crying out in desperation as you begin to struggle again.


“I beg of you, please! This is a mistake! Have mercy, God please have mercy…” Your screams break into whimpers as you struggle to catch your breath through your hysterical sobbing. A hand comes down to strike your cheek sharply. You yelp at the burning sting spreading across your face.

“Silence! Do not dare utter the Lord’s name you witch !” A minister of the church hisses venomously at you. They drag you to the stake and bind your hands around it with thick rope that digs into your skin while you try to free yourself. You stare in horror at the townspeople that are gathering around you, torches in hand and evil sneers on their faces. 

You can’t believe this. They were so kind to you once; the baker gave you extra pastries he made in the mornings, the minister spoke comforting blessings when you crossed paths, and the wives taught you how to cook and knit in their free time. The looks of disgust and hate on their faces make them look like strangers to you. Strangers who are going to burn you alive for “practicing witchcraft”.

It isn’t your fault. 

It isn’t fair. 

Unable to bear the weight of their disdainful glares, you tilt your head to the starry sky. Tears trickle down your face steadily and drip down your chin onto the logs of wood beneath your feet. 

You don’t want to die, and certainly not like this.

A torch lowers to ignite the kindling. You flinch and let out a wretched sob when the fire catches. The crowd cheers. You don’t want to scream, to satisfy their sick hunger to see you suffer, but you’re so terrified. You’re about to be burned alive.  The smell of smoke wafts toward you and the fire slowly grows, consuming the path of kindling and advancing steadily toward you. You push on your tiptoes and press as hard against the stake as you can to get even just an inch more distance between you and a slow, blistering death. 

Another hideous cry erupts from the crowd, but this time it’s followed by a flurry of movement. Some of the glowing lights of their torches drop strangely and you hear people running and panicking. You can’t see very well past your tears and the thickening smoke, but you can tell the villagers are scrambling and shouting about something. You barely make out the town sheriff wobbling on his feet and clutching at his neck, where fresh blood flows over his fingers to smear across his skin and stain his clothes. He chokes out some words, but they’re lost in a gurgle. A large billow of smoke blocks your view and you cough violently when it invades your lungs. 

When you open your eyes, they sting from the remains of the smoke, but you’re shocked to see that the sheriff had fallen face down onto the ignited kindling. You realize his collapse had caused the wave of smoke as his body smothered a portion of the flames, but the surviving flames are quick to take revenge on his flesh. 

Your attention is torn from the dead man in front of you when you feel the restraints on your wrists disappear and your hands fall to your sides. You try to look back at what’s happened, but you’re suddenly lifted off the wood beneath your feet and into someone’s arms. 

You stare up at the man holding you. His hair and eyes are both two different colors, giving him a striking appearance. A large scar covers an upper quadrant of his gentle face, drawing out the bright crystalline blue of the iris it surrounds. There is something so entrancing about him and the way he looks at you with such softness. 

“Are you alright?” He asks you in a soothing velvety voice, and you see pointed fangs in his mouth as he speaks. Your heart skips a beat. Have you just escaped death only for it to greet you with different arms? “You took in a lot of smoke. I’m sorry I couldn’t come to you sooner.” 

You realize only then that the world around you is silent. You look to see you’re no longer in the town center with a crackling fire burning in the square or townspeople yelling in terror. You’re in a wooded clearing, in the arms of this man who has saved your life. 

You stumble to find  your words as the man gently places you down on the cool dirt. How did you get here? How didn’t you notice? The man watches you stammer with a caring and patient expression. You feel your cheeks heat up at his demeanor that would almost come off as adoring if you didn’t know any better. 

“I-I’m okay.” You squeak out, staring down at your soot covered dress. “Y-your—fangs…you um… you’re…” You trail. Surely you’re wrong, but the neck wound that killed the sheriff suddenly makes a little too much sense.

“A vampire.” He confirms quietly, as if he were trying not to frighten a mouse back into its hole.

You take in a shaky breath, and try your best to process this.

Your village was very superstitious, obviously, so you’ve been warned about the existence of creatures such as vampires, werewolves, and witches , but you always had your doubts. You certainly never expected to meet one in your lifetime, much less have one save your life.

Goodness. A vampire saving you from being burned alive for witchcraft. 

Maybe you really are a witch.

“Do they frighten you?” He asks, showing off his  pair of pointed teeth again. He tilts his head slightly and a small frown mars his features, “Do I frighten you?” 

“No.” Your mouth replies  before you can really think about your answer. Granted, the idea of vampires does frighten you as much as the next person, but this particular one... You feel foolish for saying so to such a dangerous being, but the truth is you aren’t scared for some reason. Foolish or not. You should be, you recognize that, but you just… aren’t. Not of him. 

He appears pleased by your denial, and smiles in a way that has you blushing and smiling shyly yourself. 

“Good.” He says warmly, reaching up to wipe away the ashes on your cheek. His hand is cool and it makes you feel better after being so close to blistering heat. “Now tell me. Why did they think you were a witch?”

At the memory, tears spring to your eyes and you bite your lip to hold them in. You’re safe now, you remind yourself. It’s okay. The man brushes an escaped tear from your face and caresses your cheek softly. “You don’t have to say if it hurts. It doesn’t matter now. You’re safe.” He seems to be reproachful of himself for asking. You don’t want him to feel bad, so you cover his hand with your own and lean into it reassuringly. You’re not sure why you feel so comfortable with him. 

“A man asked me to… bed with him,” You tell him, averting your eyes in humiliation, “and I declined.” 

He waits for you to continue. When you don’t, he gently pushes your face to look at him. “That’s all?” He asks. You nod, another tear falling as you give a small mirthless laugh.

“That’s all. He went straight to the courthouse and accused me of trying to seduce him into sin with witchcraft.” 

The man’s face is solemn and his mouth is set in a disapproving thin line. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry, my dear. I should have been quicker to find you. I was almost too late.” 

You have no idea what he’s talking about, and the self-resentment in his eyes confuses you even more. You were lucky to have been saved at all. He acts as if he had personal stakes in the matter, but you two have only just met. 

“I didn’t thank you for saving me. I owe you my life.” You say quietly, watching him carefully. His gray and blue eyes shine humorously at your gratitude and he smiles affectionately at you.

“Oh darling, it is my life that is forever yours.” He answers. Your eyes go wide and you can only stare at him in total shock, mouth falling open in disbelief.  

“W-wha…?!” Your voice has left you. The man chuckles  and rests his hands comfortingly on your shoulders.

“My name is Shouto Todoroki.” He begins, and a strange feeling washes over you when you hear his name. It feels like deja vu. “That name probably doesn’t mean much to you now, but…” He pauses to choose his words, “We knew each other once in a past life. Quite well. I’ve been looking for you, princess.” 

When he speaks the last word, you feel a strange sense of enlightenment. Fragments of memories come to your mind, none making very much sense, but all so familiar. You do recognize this man in front you. You don’t see, but you feel (or rather re-feel) the warm fireplace in a grand bedroom, sparkling palace ballrooms, a charming white horse and his handsome rider, the lonely prince…

It’s not your life. But… it was...once upon a time. 

“Shouto…” You whisper, the name feeling not at all foreign on your tongue. Your eyes flutter open (you hadn’t realized you closed them) and it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time. You notice even the shades of blue in his tunic give you an echoing sense of sentimentality. He is a stranger, but you know him deep within your heart. 


Shouto has a look of pure elation at the sound of his name leaving your lips with such familiarity. “Considering your… sudden homelessness, why don’t you come with me? We can leave all of this behind us.” He urges, dipping his head down to brush your nose with his. You hope he’s too close to see the spreading blush on your cheeks. 

You can’t help but chuckle a little at his wording and pretend it mull it over. Of course, you don’t really have much to think about— you have just been effectively removed from your home rather permanently and you do have this unnatural yet completely comfortable longing to stay with this man who you know so intimately and yet don’t know at all. 

“Yes… I’d like that.” You hum absently, focused on Shouto’s beautifully delicate features and fresh wintry scent. His hands lift to cup either side of your face.

“May I?” He asks sweetly. You sound your approval and soon feel his soft lips press fervently into yours. A burst of emotions overwhelm you and you press yourself to Shouto’s firm body like he was the only thing grounding you to this world. The strange sense of long-awaited reunion fills your heart and for the first time, you feel like you’re home. 

Shouto parts from you, gazing at you tenderly, and you simply bask in his surreal embrace. A moment later, you feel his lips softly brushing against the junction of your neck. You shudder slightly at the feather-light sensation of his loving kiss placed there. 

“May I?” He asks again. You know what he means and you feel a little scared, but you trust Shouto so you nod, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself. Shouto’s hand presses into your lower back and pushes you flush against him. He kisses your neck again and you tilt your head for him.

His fangs pierce your skin, and the world you once knew is gone without a single regret.