#natsutodoroki

   *   @natsutodoroki​   said   :      you   deserve   more   than   i   could   ever   give   you.   ”

           GAZE   WAS   SLOW   TO   RISE   ---   HE   WAS   ASHAMED   ,   A   DISCONNECT   SETTLED      between   them,   forged   from   the   heartbreak   of   their   childhood.   sometimes,   when   he   was   with   his   siblings,   he   was   transported   back   to   boyhood,   small,   chubby   fingers   PRESSED   against   the   glass   that   separated   him   from   the   children   (   his sister and brother   )   playing   outside.   oh   ---   he   had   never   felt   such   desperation   to   join   them,   to   know   the   JOYS   of   normalcy.   it   had   ached   in   his   chest,   only   to   be   plucked   out   by   patriarchal   vision.   he   oft   wondered   what   it   would   have   been   like,   had   things   been   different. 

                                                                       ❛   how   do   you   know?    ❜

little women ask meme   /   selectively accepting.

      ‘   no,   no,   that’s  not  what  i   . . .   ’    whatever  she  said  before,   fuyumi  is  immediately  washed  with   regret.   she  mumbles  an  apology  even  though  it’s  half  drowned  by  the  running  water  and  clanking  dishes  she  sets  aside  to  dry.      fuyumi  chews  at  her  lip,   wipes  her  hands  and  moves  her  phone  from  one  ear  to  the  other,   attention  rapt  like  a  mother.

      ‘   you  know  i’d  never  ask  you  to  do  that   . . .   ’    she  says,   and  it’s  true            -   she’d  be  a  hypocrite  to  fault  him  for  a  flaw  they  share.   it’s  not  like  she  doesn’t  understand  where he’s  coming  from,  like she  doesn’t  feel  the  same  way.   because  as  much  as  she  might  want  to  believe  she  doesn’t,  the  simple  truth  is  she  does.   like  him,   anger  has  made  a  home  in  the  pit  of  her  stomach   ;   the  only  difference  is  she’s  determined  to  make  it  a  grave  there,  too.

it’s been a while since you heard that name, and even longer since that nickname was heard. and you recognise that voice, way too well. turning around and you see who it is. white haired, looks older, much older than the last time you saw him. and your gaze softens into an almost sad looking one. 

“i don’t have time to play anymore, Natsu” he remembers the days where they could breathe, when they could finally act like kids together. those days when fuyumi was referee, or switched teams between the 2 brothers.

& shouto watching from up above, you still see the hopeful gaze that one day he would get to play with all of you, have the chance to be a child like you all. 

and the anger rises again. nails digging into your palm. 

                                                                                personality sentence starters [inbox open!]

      It’s immediate and maybe a little silly, the way relief spreads gently along the line of her shoulders, the ghost of a tension so faint it was barely perceptible finally dissipating like mist in the sunlight. Silly, because it’s not—exactly—that the matter was ever in question, really.

        How could it be? In a family like this, if they didn’t trust each other, there was no one to trust. It was about survival, but more than that, it was about each other—looking out for each other had been second nature for so long that the only way trust came was implicitly, immediately, as easy as breathing. So, she breathes.

            “Of course,” she echoes, the gentle smile that touches lightly at her lips coming perhaps just a split-second later than it otherwise would as her gaze shifts away from where he sits beside her on the sofa. Her eyes fall to her clasped hands where they rest in her lap, her thoughts coming together slowly, time she knows she can take with him. And then, with a soft huff, she slumps in her seat, before shifting to lean her weight against him—where he is as solid and reassuring as ever.

          “It’s just… the other night, when I was—trying to make you and Shoto—act like nothing was wrong… I was only trying to make sure that trust wasn’t misplaced.” Everything she’s ever done has been to protect her brothers—she knows that Natsuo knows this, but she’s already lost one brother to anger, and it’s worth taking the time to make it clear just to make sure she doesn’t lose any more the same way.

    A slow sigh serves to settle her even more comfortably against him, and she turns her head enough to meet his eyes once more. “I’m… relieved I didn’t—lose any of that trust just because I went about it the wrong way. I just thought it would be easier if we didn’t have to—worry about the things we usually do… but I hope that didn’t make it seem like I think any of the things we all went through are okay or don’t matter.”

     it’s a conversation long forgotten,  forcefully locked away with the rest of his memories from that time.  shoved into the crevices of the back of his mind,  an entire lifetime erased with black hair dye and blue flames,  the key long since thrown away.  the question almost makes touya freeze,  with the way they bring back those vivid memories of sitting side by side,  their words hushed as if their father might overhear and lash out as he always did.  as if their father cared enough to listen in the first place.  something that had been small at the time,  but something that had meant so much to touya.  he’d wanted to dye his hair.

                    ‘  if it makes you feel better,  then do it.  ‘

     he’s sure this isn’t anything near what natsuo had meant when he’d said it.   and he knows damn well that phrase hadn’t been on his mind through any of it.  through turning vivid red locks black,  through mutilating his own skin,  his own face to a charred purple - red to do anything to look different than  him,  to becoming the antithesis of a hero:  a villain,  whose only goal was the downfall of the  number two  (  he’s number one now----  why?!  whywhywhywhywh---  )

                                       he thinks,  yeah----   that phrase fits,  doesn’t it?

     ah natsuo,  you deserved better than a brother consumed by anger and a hunger for vengeance,  than a father consumed by jealousy and rage.  you deserved so,  so much better.

     but the todoroki story seems to be one of anger and regret and violence,  and dabi embodies all three so perfectly.  from the way he speaks with a burning anger behind ice cold words,  to his appallingly violent actions that had led him to this spot.  the corners of his mouth turn to an almost cruel grin,  something near mocking in nature as he looks at his dear little brother.