#read tw

hey

if i dont post for a while [a while meaning anywhere from a week to 10 months] its because im in the hospital.

this is not saying i will definitely end up in the hospital, but it is very likely at this point.

i will either be admitted to a psych ward and then go home, or i will be admitted to a psych ward and then to a 6-10 month long rehab facility. i will most likely not have access to the internet.

im sorry that it has come to this, but there is a very low chance i will make it without this help. once again, i am sorry.

as much as i dont want to do this again [ive been in treatment at least 15 times], it has gotten to the point to where i need the 24/7 monitoring that those facilities give.

i will update tomorrow if i am not already in treatment.

i love you guys so much,

Regular Day, Regular morning, Regular Conversation

"If Nico didn't eat those damn seeds i would have all three of my boys here" Lou Ellen says with a sigh drawing shapes on Cecils thigh with eyeliner

"Your boys?" Will asked

"She's saying we are her sons and her favorite child is off in the underworld, somewhere"

"Exactly, my baby boys, my bouncing little lights" Lou Ellen adds joking around with her friends.

Just the three of them until autumn comes around. this should be peaceful enough, i mean the big three usually bring the chaos and Thalia is still on the hunt, Percy is off somewhere with his mom probably, and Nico was in the underworld, it should be the calmest Solstice yet— although that rarely

ever happens "y'all wanna see the burn i got the other day?" Cecil asks changing the subject, he was often the type to show off scars if they didn't mean anything, just wanting to get a healers input, or to brag about how strong he is.

"What did you do this time" Lou Ellen said pulling Cecil closer to the other two

"C'mere show me" Will enthused Cecil pulled up his sleeve revealing a minor burn on his inner palm, Will Cringed at the sight, it wasn't bad it would likely heal in a day or two, but it still probably hurt

"Yikes, whats that from" Lou Ellen asked "Kids got ahold of the altar candles and some wax fell on me"

"It's not that bad, it'll heal in a day or two" Will consoles before watching as Cecil starts to frown, begging for reassurance that he is a very strong and brave boy

"uh— I mean you're very strong it looks re~ally dangerous to be playing with candles"

"I wasn't playing with them! I just dropped some wax on my hand"

"Uh huh, whatever you say CiCi, whatever you say"

"I wasn't!"

Will gets up while they bicker hugging them both goodbye before his 2nd shift of the day, making sure to hug Cecil extra long because of his boo boo

[2 hours before]

The Fates have been planning this for Will each little knot in the sweater they're knitting that was perfect for a Texan Winter

They had all gone to do their own activities Sword practice, Infirmary duties, Hiding in their cabin until little miss perfect finally leaves hers, the usual.

Cecil took more breaks than usual but he was fine— genuinely, not a thing looked out of place.

Lunch time always rolls around at the same time, a sense of stability in the chaotic world of being a demigod, they sat with their cabins, but something felt wrong to will, he needed to call Nico, he needed to make sure Kayla was wearing her hand braces, something was going to go wrong he just knew it and that Gracie was drinking enough water

Finishing lunch Will felt the urge to go sit at Cecils legs like a lost puppy, it wasn't a feeling he's felt before, not in this way, he didn't feel how he usually did when he had these thoughts, he was scared, he wanted to be close to Cecil to prevent anything that could hurt him, he was terrified that something terrible would happen.

[1 hour before]

Cecil lost his breath for a second,

"that was weird" he thought to himself going back to enjoying his games with his friends

every loud laugh Cecil would choke on his breath, even sneezing he could feel frustration brewing, it was so odd, he was fine, will said everything looked fine yesterday it was fine, it was just a few seconds of breathlessness

Will on the other hand was completely unaware of why he was feeling dread, he messaged Nico, he was fine, he got a letter from his mom, she was okay, she was even talking about how excited to meet Nico she was, Kayla was okay she didn't have any injuries this time, Gracie had a new waterbottle to fixate on, Jerry was still an old soul of course but he was fine playing his sodoku or whatever British kids do, someone was going to get hurt, someone close to him, it almost sent him into a panic twice, and did throw him into a panic once

[3 minutes before]

Lake time was normal, taking a dip, drowning your worries away, Cecil didn't feel normal, he was scared he went to Will for help but he was physically fine.

He calmed down quite a bit, he was safe, going down the slide in the lake over and over, liking the wind in his hair, running circles around the lake before getting back in the water

[Time of death 2:29 Pm]

"He- he just stopped breathing?" Will said preparing CPR Julia and Alice had brought Cecil in to the infirmary after fishing him out from the bottom of the lake Will started doing chest compressions frantically trying to have his best friend wake up, he needs to wake up, Cecil's only 16 he has so much life left to livehe tried everything he tried everything he was dead

Will sat in the Infirmary, by the window, getting a message from nico

"Will!"

"this is him"

"Have you- Is- Thanatos just brought Cecil to Judgment"

"he's dead"

"It's Okay, Will i promise—"

"I could've saved him, if i had just been a better med- Healer i would've saved him"

"Will-"

"it's like i have some sort of curse"

"Will don't -"

"Don't talk to me.. just for a little bit, I'm sorry, for everything"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Nico" Will closed the blinds and he just sat there, staring at the floor, sitting in darkness

"I wish i took more photos with him"

"I wish i spent more time with him"

" I could've saved him, i could've saved them all"

Note: TW there is non-con spanking in this one - while reader is turned on, there technically isn't anything sexual happening.

“Who did you tell?”

You blinked groggily up at her, confused at what was happening.

“What?” You mumbled.

You were ripped from the bed, for half a second just impressed with how easily Kate did that. That was until you collided with the floor, letting out a cry as pain spiked through you.

She stood over you and oh. Now you understood fully how she got to this place in life. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t been afraid earlier, because you knew now that Kate Laswell was the famous Watcher. It was just something else to actually see.

Standing above you in her grey suit, high heels on each of your head, anger clear on her face; the gun pointed down at you was not even shaking one bit. 

There was a coldness in her eyes that had been so different from when you had kidnapped her yourself. In a way it was odd to think that this was the same woman.

Horror filled you. It wasn’t that you hadn’t realised Kate was dangerous, but still, still hit differently in some way. 

Death could be mere seconds away, it was only a question of Laswell pulling the trigger. Then your body would shut down like a broken piece of technology, never to be turned on again, missing its core features. She had said it herself, hadn’t she? 

If I don’t kill you before, that is

“Who did you tell?” She repeated, voice raising a little, a strand of hair out of place. 

“I - what do you mean?” you asked, weakly raising your hands in front of the gun muzzle, as if it would do anything to stop your death, in case she chose to end you, “I haven’t told anyone about anything!”

“You’re a fuckin’ liar,” she hissed angrily, one foot kicking away your hands, “How else would somebody else know about the arrival of my shipment friday?” 

You stared up at her, in between your fingers, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “How the fuck should I know? I haven’t told anyone?”

“Oh, so they would just happen to know, huh?” she snapped, as she bent over without any problems, the muzzle of the gun suddenly pressed against your forehead, as she almost screamed , “who did you tell?!”  

“I DIDN’T TELL ANYONE,” you screamed back, barely realising you did so, “MAYBE IT’S BECAUSE  YOUR IT-SECURITY IS SHIT!”

Kate Laswell’s blue eyes stared down at you; she was barely blinking, you weren’t even sure if she was breathing. Then she rose, straightening up, gun still pointing towards your face and even though it wasn’t pressed against your skin anymore, it was like you could still feel it. As if it caressed your skin, whispering a death threat that echoed in your mind.

“If I found out that you have anything to do with this, Fae, and I mean anything, I’m killing you on sight.”

She stepped over you easily and you tipped your head to the side, watching her high heels as she went out the door, snarling about something you didn’t even bother to listen to, while putting away the gun.

The tears kept coming as you curled on your side and cried. Staying here would no doubt result in anything other than your death.

You didn’t turn as the sound of another person entering the room was heard.

“Dinnae cry, bonnie bird,” Soap comforted - or at least tried to, “She dinnae mean it, boss lady is just stressed - dinnae fash.” He squatted down next to you, giving your head a little pat, but you didn’t turn around to look at him.

“We gotta go, but I’ll get ye some new clothes first, eh?”

You nodded.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

They were gone that night. The food you were given hours ago by a staff member, was cold by now, untouched by you. You weren’t going to dare, you didn’t want to be drugged again.

You slept on the little couch in the room, not caring that you were too tall for it. The idea of waking up, with Kate Laswell who had just promised to kill you, wasn’t really a pleasant one. Not that you actually had anything to do with it, though.

You just didn’t plan to stick around and find out if Laswell was serious or not.

The next morning you didn’t eat the breakfast that the staff member gave you, despite how lovely it looked and smelled. The lass who gave it to you and picked up yesterday's dinner was nice enough to point out that it wasn’t poisoned or anything. You merely answered by asking your own question.

“When will they be back?”

“In less than an hour or so, I think. But - I believe Miss Laswell would prefer for you to eat breakfast.”

“Okay, thank you.”

The idea of getting all your meals delivered seemed so… unnecessary to you. Though your own cooking skills were limited, you at least made food yourself. 

Soap had given you a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants yesterday - your own. Which meant they had gone through your stuff and while Soap grinned as he knew you realised, you wanted to throw up at the thought. 

You looked outside the window. You just needed to get out of the house - and somehow past the fence and then it wouldn’t be far to a crowded area if you weren’t wrong. You looked down at the bushes. It wouldn’t be too bad now that you weren’t in shorts anymore - as long as you didn’t break anything.

You didn’t touch the actual food you were given - but you did touch the fancy cutlery.

With a quick movement you opened the window and located the censor - ignoring the blasting sound as you moved, using the sharp knife to pull the censor free. 

You knew they would check on you soon, so you desperately stabbed at it until you -managed to get it open, pulling the battery from it. The alarm stopped and as you closed the window, you heard people at the door. You merely sat down on the broken little censor. 

You winched at the sight of the two big men, who looked like security, but tried to look as apologetic as possible.

“- Sorry. Needed some air.”

One of them looked properly annoyed at you. “Don’t do that again!” 

The moment they left and the door locked you looked directly up at the security camera - then you flipped it off. Opening the window fully, no alarm stopping you this time, you counted towards ten but jumped at nine. In the half second you gave yourself to lay in the bushes, you realised how fucking easier everything would have been if you had just stuck to blackmailing rich cheating people - or maybe been a better kidnapper. Alas, you got up, grumbling as you looked around, moving quickly.  

Then you darted across the lawn. You had never been a runner and you weren’t wearing any shoes, but you gave absolutely no shit. 

Crawling over the fence though? Nope. You weren’t ready to experiment with those sharp points, no thanks. And squeezing through it? Not happening. What was happening was a car arriving apparently - and you hid behind one of the thick pillars near the port, out of pure panic. 

The moment it passed you, you darted out from behind it and through the port - ignoring the screeching of the tires and yelling as they spotted you just a moment later.

While you weren’t a runner, you sure weren’t going to sit around and wait to be killed either. You just turned down the way too fancy road in London and ran .

Escaped. Fleeing. Bolted. Cleared out. Booked it. All the fancy different ways of saying that your bare feet hurt as they hammered against the road, your lung stung – and you were moving faster than you had in a while.

You also very much wanted to throw up. People were staring at you as you passed - but you weren’t going to stop a stranger, no no. You just needed to hide , no need to get random civilians into this mess. Everything was dreadful enough as it was.

Hurrying through some smaller alleyways, your mind already had a tiny plan of how to escape - find a place with a lot of people. Blend in, take underground to somewhere … but you didn’t have any methods of paying. And with your build, as much as your body gave its full potential right now, jumping over wouldn’t be an option.

Fuck.

Keeping low for a while it was, then. Maybe you could borrow - either with or without the person’s permission - a phone.

Your lungs were burning, your skin already collecting a nice layer of sweat.

Fuck being out of shape. If you made it out of this whole thing, you would try to at least be able to run without feeling like you were going to die any second. 

If you managed to get out alive.

Your feet were throbbing at each step. You didn’t even want to think about what you had stepped on.

As you looked over your shoulder, you saw a behemoth of a man together with two others in the distance, trying to get to you. You darted onto a different road. Barely able to hear the sound of tourists and people buzzing in the bigger streets.

Just a little more.

The moment you hit the crowd of people you weaved in between them, desperately trying to pretend you hadn’t just been running for your life and was close to keeling over from exhaustion. As you got further into the crowd, you slowed down and soon you were walking in between people, trying to pretend you weren’t barefoot and terrified. Your lungs burned, as if embers filled them to the brim, pain shooting through your legs at each step. Salvia filled your mouth while you walked, threatening to make you throw up.

It was as if the world stilled around you as you kept following the stream of people - as if it agreed that you had been through enough. The many faces of strangers that passed barely noticed you. You melted into the current of tourism, letting yourself become nobody. A person that passed you on the street while you were on vacation, someone whose face would never be remembered.

Free. Your body was burning and in pain, but you were free like a bird, having just left the cage and the captivity behind an–

“There you are, sweetheart.” A rough voice said, as an arm was thrown over your shoulder in an almost friendly manner, but the grip on you was too strong to be anything but danger, “A real sprinter, eh? Gave the guys a run for their money.”

You swallowed hard, eyes flickering around desperately, doing anything but looking at him, the urge to scream instant but the moment you opened your mouth, you felt a familiar muzzle press against your side. Even with fabric in between, the gun was a clear threat.

“Don’t be silly,” John Price warned and though his voice was happy, you knew he was serious, as he steered you, “c’mon now, she isn’t in a good mood as it is.”

As you watched a big, black car with darkened windows stop at the road a couple of metres from you, you reconsidered making a scene - wondering if Price would actually shoot you, if the shot would be immediate. You finally dared to look over at the man having a grip on you that he pretended to be a friendly one as he steered you directly to the car. He gave you a grin. He was dressed in “normal” clothes, a beanie on his head, scarf hiding some of his face, dressed as if he was any other civilian - as if the two of you were lovers, on the way home, as if you weren’t being steered towards what you were sure would lead to your execution. 

You stopped in front of the side door of the car and heard it unlock, fear unlocked inside your mind too, unable to focus. Either you would be brought back to the cage - or to an early grave.

The door opened and Price took a hold of your neck, more or less just pushing you inside, a grunt leaving you as you fell on your knees on the carpet - only to see a pair of high heels in front of you. You looked up, on your hands and knees, taking in the Watcher .

Kate Laswell’s hand shot out, gripping your hair and pulling you up next to her, ignoring your cry of pain - and to your horror, John Price didn’t just close the door behind you. No, he joined the two of you, closing the car door behind him, the doors locking once more.

He sat down on the seats opposite Kate Laswell - because of course they had a fancy car like this, where the guests were sitting opposite each other, a black screen behind Price, keeping the chauffeur from watching you. You didn’t even get the chance to comment on it however, because then the car moved once more - and Kate pulled on your hair, hard.

A pitiful whine left you as she manoeuvred you, pulling you over her lap and then pushing down on your back, not saying anything as you struggled and began to protest. A pair of bigger hands suddenly pulled on your arms.

“Wait-wait-wa–”

Click . 

Price sat down again, the handcuffs around your wrists, making your hands useless behind your back. Confusion filled your mind as your face was pushed into the seats, body draped over Kate’s lap - and then a well-manicured hand took a hold at the hem of your pants, pulling them down.

“No- nonono, I’m sorry Kate - I did–” “SHUT UP!”

Your face was pressed harder into the seat, body flinching at her sudden yell. 

“You’ve already created so many fuckin’ problems,” she continued, voice eerily calm again as she pulled your sweatpants down, hand then resting on your panties for just a moment, “all you had to do was stay .”

Humiliation filled you, your brain not allowing you to lay still, Kate’s hand tightening in your hair. You almost bare ass was exposed to her, stretchmarks and everything. Price was just watching the two of you, having pulled  out a cigar.

“I’m sorry, please don't, I was sc–”

Your panties were pulled down so suddenly that you barely registered it, before Kate’s palm collided with your asscheeks. The sound that left you was a mixture of a surprised squeal and scared wail.

“Told you to fucking shut up too - stop squirming!” 

You couldn’t see Kate’s face, but you could hear the dark annoyance in her voice. One hand gripping your hair tightly, the other starting a painful pattern as it repeatedly collided with your soft ass. Making it jiggle a little as the skin burned and you squirmed. The words of apologies and begging that left your mouth at first were replaced with whimpers and cries. As each hit made your poor skin redder and warmer, sending so many emotions through you that you felt like a computer program on the edge of crashing. The worst part, besides the pain?

… The fact that you liked it. The fact that her mean words and harsh spankings made your need for Kate somehow grow even more, how you felt your pussy grow wetter each time her hand connected with your skin.

Though, despite your unexpected turn-on, you sobbed from the pain and shame. Tears and drool dripped from you onto the seats beneath you, as you kept your eyes closed. Small pitiful begs left you now and again. The number of spanks had passed 20 a while ago. 

Your sobs eventually dried up, only small moans of pain leaving you, body having gone limp. When it finally stopped, it took you a couple of seconds before you realised it. Instead her hand was resting on your burning ass, her other hand gently petting your hair. A part of your brain registered the fact that the car had driven far too long, which meant she had prolonged the ride, merely to spank you.

She leant down to whisper in your ear.

“You won’t do that again, will you, Fae?”

“N-no,” you answered weakly, not wanting to open your eyes. The car smelled of cigar smoke and you could hear Price let out a pleased hum. Like a vicious dog, loyal to its master, even as it watched her beat up a stray. You felt her hand squeeze an already burning cheek, making you add “I won’t do tha-at again, miss Laswell.”

The cheek was released. Her hand in your hair moved down to dry off a few tears.

What if the bfdi universe is the afterlife and what everyone is could be linked to their death. It could be how they died like Firey could have died in a fire or Rocky who could have been crushed by a rock, or it could be their favorite food like Fries or Gelatin or maybe even their favorite number or letter like Four and X.

David and Dora could have been murdered or died of natural causes. Teardrop could have drowned in salty water like the ocean or was murdered and was crying because she couldn't scream for help because she was mute

Firey Jr could have been a child burned to death either by accident or maybe as a sacrifice idk.

Or for the numbers it could have been the age they died, like zero could have been a stillborn (Wasn't born alive) and if so maybe their related to their death or how their personalities were in life, for example Nine could have died in a skateboarding accident and sense Five likes book they could have possibly been crushed by a bookshelf, Ten could have died helping a cat down from a tree or was just a nice person in their life

Anyway I just wanted to share my thoughts

It was ironic. That was the first thing you noticed about it. A man that was covered in burns to be born during the winter. January 18th. And as you looked at the man that was asleep next to you, you wondered if he knew that you knew when his birthday was. Hell, you didn’t even know his real name. Sure, you could technically do a bunch of research of all the babies born in this area of Japan on this day some two decades ago. But that would still give too many results.

And ever since you found out about when his birthday was, you weren’t too sure you wanted to know who he really was. It was torturous to let two birthdays pass without a word from you. You had been waiting to see if he would be waiting for something. But Dabi acted like it was a day like every other. 

“Careful doll. You’ll get wrinkles if you scowl so much.” Dabi’s voice brought you from your thoughts. Your eyes refocused on his brilliant blue eyes. He stayed still for a moment, just watching you before he sat up. As he stretched, the staples pulled at both his healthy and his damaged skin. You didn’t reach out to him. Instead you just watched as he got ready. “Take a picture. It will last longer.” He said, sarcasm dripping from each and every word. He did that a lot. Acted cocky and confident, but would hide the self deprecation with sarcasm. You had tried to make a comment about it, but he hadn’t liked that. So you had stopped. 

You pulled the blanket over your head and closed your eyes, trying to return to dreamland. You had a few seconds of peace before the covers were ripped from your hands. You squeaked as warm hands grabbed onto your wrists, pulling them away from your face. Mismatched lips pressed against your own. You melted into his warmth, letting it envelope your body for however long it would last. He gave a squeeze to your wrists before letting go and stepping away. You sat up to watch him again. Should you mention it? His birthday? He seemed to be in a good mood. You chewed on your bottom lip before taking the chance.

“Hey Dabi? Can I ask you something?” Dabi sighed and looked over at you, his dark hair as messy as ever. He shrugged on his dark coat.

“You already did, but fine. What is it?” You took a deep inhale before continuing.

“What.... What do you want to do today?” His eyebrows drew together ever so slightly and he walked over to you. You swung your legs to the edge of the bed and he squatted down in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. He pressed a kiss to each of your thighs before he answered.

“Same thing I do every day. And I want you not to die, doll. Why do you ask?” He asked, his eyes closed. You looked at the dark lashes, once again noticing the white base to each one. You wondered about that a lot, but you wouldn’t comment on it. He didn’t like it when comments were made on his appearance. Even compliments. So you wouldn’t. It was much better to keep him happy.

“For your birthday. You don’t want to do anything special?” You asked. His grip on your knees tightened and you swallowed nervously. His eyelids opened and blue eyes regarded you.

“What?” His voice was low. Emotionless. Not good.

“I just mean... it’s January 18th. Your birthday. Don’t you want to...” Your voice trailed off as his hands heated up a bit. You should stop talking. You really should. Dabi stood up, his hands moving to your shoulders. You let him push your back onto the mattress. He leaned down to get in your face.

“How do you know when my birthday is?” He asked, keeping the same tone. He was getting angry. It was a matter of time before he exploded. You shook your head.

“No... Nevermind, Dabi. I’m sorry.” He didn’t say anything back quickly which meant he was thinking about his words. You were glad of that at least. He didn’t want to say something he would regret.

“I want to know how you found out. Who told you? Because I know for damn sure it wasn’t me.” You could hear the anger bleeding into his voice. You couldn’t turn this around. How had you found out? That was a good question.

“I, uhm, I found out from,” You paused, trying to make your panicking mind go back in time. Dabi didn’t have an ID. Even if he did, it wouldn’t have any accurate information. And no one knew anything about the ravenette except what he told them. “The internet.” You finally answered. You saw panic flash in the turquoise depths of his eyes and he let go of your shoulders, backing away quickly.

“What? You found out my birthday from what? How did you do that? Where? When?” Questions ran wild from the man and you sat up. He looked so nervous.

“Two years ago. I put in Dabi for birth records and a few dozen results came up. I made a guess.” You responded. Confused. Was he scared that you would find out his real name? You watched him sink to the ground, his hands gripping his hair as his back pressed against the wall of your home. You stood up and walked over to him. You sat in front of him and reached out to touch him. However, you paused when you saw his shoulders shaking. What? “Dabi?”

“Do you know? Do you know my name?” He asked in a small voice. You looked at him for a long moment before shaking your head.

“No. I don’t.”

“How does the fucking internet know?” He asked before his head raised. You gasped when you saw the wild crazy look on his face. He looked like a wild animal back into a corner. All from you knowing his birthday? “He’ll find out that way. He can’t find out. Not until I’m fucking ready for him to find out.”

Dabi did that a lot. You never knew who he was, though. Just that Dabi had a plan that would ruin his life and that he couldn’t find out the plan until the time was right.

“He won’t.” You responded to him. You still didn’t touch him.

Dabi felt like he couldn’t breathe. How had you found over a simple search? This couldn’t be right. His chest had slowly felt tighter and tighter ever since the word birthday had passed from your lips. He had felt a bit suspicious when you had asked what he wanted to do today. Trust him, the weird way you had acted on this day for the past couple years hadn’t escaped his notice. But he had thought that he safeguarded everything about him and he had no reason to worry. But now? Now you knew.

How much did you know? You said you didn’t know his name, but you were smart. You knew what to say to invoke the reactions you wanted from him. You knew if you said yes, he would get more angry at you. So there was a possibility that you were lying. If you knew his name, did you know about his past?

Did you know about the harsh training for years? Did you know about him being tossed away like he was nothing once Shoto had turned four? Did you know about his relationship with the rest of his family? Did you know about how badly he had screamed as the blue flames had tried to consume him like they had the building he was in? How he had screamed until his voice had gone raw like the missing skin? Did you know about how the grass had been scorched black if it wasn’t ash? How his father didn’t visit his grave? How only Natsuo and Fuyumi did? How his father had put his mother into the hospital?

Had you asked him what he wanted to do because you knew about how many birthdays had passed without a word from either parent? How his mother had been so focused on his youngest brother that she forgot about him? Her oldest? How Fuyumi had tried so hard to make him something for his birthday, but she was just a weak girl and he had ignored her? How Natsuo had eaten the half burnt cupcake instead as Dabi had wrapped his injuries in bandages?

“DABI!” Your voice screamed out to him and he was snapped back to reality like a rubber band pulled too far. Blue flames licked up his arms, the familiar agonizing ache of using his quirk hitting him like a brick wall. Tears were in your eyes. Your traitorous eyes. Flames were eating along your floor. Dabi stood up, stamping the flames out the best he could. He squeezed his fists and the flames on him were put out. He turned to you and felt a warm liquid rolling down his cheeks. He reached up and wiped at it before pulling his hand away to look at it. Crimson shone on it. Blood. He wiped it on his coat and leaned over your sitting form.

“Forget about my birthday. It’s for your own good. And Y/n?” He waited until you made eye contact with him. He knew his eyes were cold, hard, and angry. Just like Endeavor’s. But it would get the job done, so he would tolerate it.

“Yes?” Your shaky voice answered.

“Mention my birthday to me one more time or try to find something out about me, and I’ll fucking kill you.” With that, he left you behind. 

Dabi knew he should leave you alone entirely. It’d be the smart choice for both of you. But he couldn’t leave you. He loved the moments where he could leave his life behind for a moment and be lost in your smile. But he couldn’t have you find out. What if you looked at him like a failure too if you knew the great family he was related to? What if you told Endeavor that his oldest son wasn’t dead? He couldn’t risk it. And if that resulted in your death? Then what a pity.

━━━━━━ʕ•荼毘•ʔ━━━━━━━

A/n: I know it’s kind of short and not really a birthday celebration. But let me explain my thought process a bit. Dabi is a homicidal psychopath that has never seen how a healthy relationship should be like. So he’s not going to be the best partner. I don’t think he would be physically abusive considering his past. But I do think he would be emotionally abusive, whether he means to or not. 

Also he doesn’t want anyone knowing his real name or anything, so I feel like it stands he wouldn’t also want anyone knowing his birthday and he would get angry and worried if someone found out because that could risk them finding out about his past when he doesn’t want them to. If that makes any sense.

You're trying to get out of the department as soon as possible, not wanting to cause any suspicion. You swerve past several other officers and civilians, looking for the nearest exit.

"I'm trying to talk to you about this because it concerns your safety!"

You both notice the wandering eyes of people land on your conversation, trying unsuccessfully to eavesdrop discreetly. You recognize some of the faces as family and friends of past victims, some pleading for any new information.

"My safety is not the issue, but those people crying in this very building, are the ones you need to protect.", You lower your voice to a whisper.

"Bad things change people, they change good people who don't deserve what the world gave them. Protect those people so they don't change."

You push past him to your own desk, glancing at the paperwork that hadn't been filled out weeks prior. The folders had creased as an affect of them being opened so many times, sporadic notebook pages filled with bullet points and smeared ink.

But something's different, something's new to your notes. A suspect list, and a few motives listed:

Sangwoo Oh

- friend/lover

- aggressive

- Confident

- military background

-------------------

You had to stare at the paper for what felt like a lifetime before looking up at the detective getting you unraveled.

"I don't know where you get the nerve to go behind my back and then suggest that my-that he could do this."

"C'mon you know he fits the description perfectly no matter what you think! I get you love this guy but-"

"What facts? Your assumptions about someone you don't even know just because his personality fits some description you made out of thin air! Do you have DNA, or a photograph, or anything remotely real for me to go along with this charade?"

You have stopped listening to his argument, instead stacking the various case folders and taking them under your arm. You hope that getting these out of the station will give you some peace of mind even though you know there are probably copies.

"You can't ignore the facts forever (y/n)."

He can tell you're getting angry and defensive by the way you counter every possible idea. He'd seen reports and heard stories of how passionate you could get in the line of work but it was nothing like this. He was beginning to see the anger falling away and how there was a quiver to your voice as you continued the interrogation.

"The point is we've seen this all before, families believing their brothers or sons are nothing but angels that actually turn to be vicious killers. You need to see this from an objective point of view or else you will end up injured or worse."

The encounter has ended finally, for at least one day, but it gives you new worries. You try to keep your mind intact as you run through all the evidence over and over again.

Unbeknownst to you, Yura has heard the important pieces of the conversation, and has a couple ideas of her own. Her ideas have no detailed plans but rather the sole goal of keeping you from what she can only assume to be the enemy.

---------------------------

"Hey I need to borrow your lighter really quick."

Your friend almost does a doubletake as he hears those words, reluctantly taking out the mechanism from his pocket.

"Committing arson already? Damn I thought you were the good girl."

You roll your eyes at the absurd comment, focusing on the files in hand. There's a hesitance in your movements, nervous to actually be destroying what Seungbae considers valuable information.

The manilla folder crinkles as the flame eats its' way through the papers. The smoke begins to hit your nose, making you turn your head for a small time. Once the flame begins to grow it's easy for you to step on the kindling, grinding your heel against what's left.

"If I quit what would I do? No job has ever made me feel more overjoyed but at the same time, I think it's killing me. That body was no longer recognizable, it was practically decimated by the time they found the pieces, and the wounds..."

He places a hand on the small of your back, but knows he's made a foul move when you flinch from his grasp.

He knows he didn't touch a bruise or a cut, but rather the memory of nothing but pain and fear. You're lost within the bounds of your imagination, the world too far away to touch.

"Hey, look at me, right now (y/n)."

He's trying to get your attention, to pull you back to a place you know like the back of your hand. He wants to pull you into his arms and stop your muttering.

"Sang, you wouldn't lie to me right? I don't know who I can trust anymore and I need you to promise me this one thing."

You feel so far away from him, as though he can never reach you just when he can feel his fingertips on your shoulder.

He doesn't understand why he can't bring himself to hurt you, why you are his biggest concern at the moment. Why are his emotions coming back so strongly? Why does the pain feel so real?

He hasn't felt these emotions in years, not since he was a child, not since his bastard of a father had threatened him and beaten him. He was no father, and Sangwoo was no one's son. No, he was considered the devil by the public.

But what was the devil but an angel who fell too far from the sun? Someone put in an unbearable position with no proper outlet?

So was he the angel who had been wrongfully treated and discarded by the world? Or was he the devil who played people like pawns in his game of chess?

The answer's quite simple if you consider what a human is; A creature with the opportunities to create and destroy at the flick of a wrist.

So for now he'd play the part of the beautiful angel all while hiding the devil inside.

--------------------------------

You didn't know why you were crying over a man you hated while in the arms of the man you loved. He didn't understand it either, but still allowed you the access to relief and a shower.

Like previously stated the water would be freezing at first but eventually, would get to a lukewarm condition. You could tell after a certain number of years that the water would never exactly get hot but on the edge of it. That was enough for you to know you were clean, and the feeling of the water temperature coming back to frigid.

You could hardly bare it to look at yourself in the foggy mirror, seeing splotches of blues and purples. They seemed to gather anywhere from your shoulders to your ribs, and somewhere along your hips. Sometimes they were randomly gathered on your thighs or legs, reminding you of the pain.

You could sit in this room forever if not for your friend laying on the couch in worry. You could get used to the muggy air, the way the towel stuck to your body that dripped water all along the tile floors.

You would stay in this bathroom if you could, closing your eyes and avoiding the mirror like your life depended on it. The idea to avoid gazing at those bruises sounded like a dream come true.

"Hey (y/n), you've been in there a while."

You couldn't bring yourself to respond, lost once again to the battle going through your mind.

He began to knock on the door repeatedly, trying desperately to get your attention.

"(y/n), I need you to open this door. If you don't I'm coming in there!"

Another wave of silence before the firm opening of the door. The urge to cover up immediately hits you, causing you to pull the towel over your exposed body.

"I was just about to get out! Give me a minute next time!"

Your excuses amount to nothing as he can't help but stare where your bare body was once in view. He wasn't flustered, not in the slightest as you turned your head to avoid his eyes.

"Does it hurt you? The bruises?"

Even seeing your reflection in the mirror is difficult, especially when he's standing next to you.

"It's in the past, so don't worry about it."

You're trying your best to get away from this conversation, but it seems that all the questions that arise are forbidden fruit. You can't remember the last time you actually talked about the mundane tasks that you had taken for granted.

"You've been in here longer than usual and when I opened the door you seemed completely oblivious. Now, you can barely look at me, so you can guarantee I'm worried about these small bruises of yours."

He's getting irritated with these encounters, more irritated than he should be. But doesn't he have the right? You wouldn't leave his side in highschool because of his past, so what was so wrong about his worry? Why did you feel the need to hide?

Funny could be used to describe this odd circumstance, but strange seemed a better word. He had known this pain, this guilt,this disgust, this self-hatred, but he couldn't understand it when it came from you. Why couldn't you just accept it? Why couldn't you openly be angry at these events?

Funny could be used, but it was no laughing matter. Hypocritical, possessive, judgemental, prejudice and ignorance better described these circumstances. He had told himself it was easy to get over these memories, and denied that he had any weakness whatsoever.

Was it that you reminded him of his past self? Of the child that could not fight back no matter the opportunities? Was it the fact that he could not explain his methods of peace because they weren't peaceful at all but rather repulsive and evil?

"Look in the mirror, (y/n)," but you didn't move an inch. In fact it seemed you strayed farther.

The feeling of his grasp on your chin towards the reflective surface made you squirm on instinct.

He wouldn't release you, not until you budged from your statuesque pose and gave in. Once you opened your eyes and saw the image it didn't feel real. It didn't feel real to be this close to him in such a weak position, nor for him to see you in such a sorry state.

"You are alive, and he is dead in a morgue where he can't touch your body ever again. You are safe, safe right here where he can't get you."

You glanced away once more, a tremble in your figure as you allowed yourself to lean into him.

He let out a sigh before bending down to look underneath the sink and inside a cabinet, a grip still on your left wrist.

He didn't keep many actual weapons in his house, except for the bat and occasional kitchen knife. So when you saw him pull a pocket knife from the storage, you jolted slightly.

When he saw you flinch he dropped your wrist promptly, indicating you were not his target.

"Sang, what the hell are you doing?"

He outstretched his left arm, forearm facing the ceiling and fist clenched softly.

He admitted it hurt a little more than he was expecting, but not enough to scare him from showing you.

The new incision had to be a couple inches long, but not too deep as to cause long lasting damage or a trip to the doctor.

"Now you're not the only one with a couple scars, huh?"

But you couldn't help but bring yourself to cover your mouth, eyes wide in petrification.

The blood continued to fall and travel along the length of his arm, the crimson liquid being smeared and forming droplets as he began to wash it off.

If seemed after looking at a certain number of dead victims you had lost your appetite and the ability to hold the contents of your stomach, as you quickly slammed open the toilet lid.

It seemed along with the loss of appetite came the loss of energy, and after that came the loss of self-control.

He now had a bandage around his injury, but it seemed as though the pain was non-existent as you were still stunned by the action.

You both now sat on the couch, pondering the words best suited for this conversation.

"Don't do that again, Sangwoo. I mean that this time. I can't be around always in your stead. I don't even think I'll stay in Korea that long..."

He perked up at that comment, noticing the suggestion that you might leave. An unbridled fear and sense of loss filling in his chest.

"It's not like you could just throw everything away and start all over instantly! I mean you can't just leave like that, it doesn't make sense!", He tried to refute these claims desperately.

"It makes perfect sense, especially after everything that's happened! There are real people dying out there from a monster, and you expect me to stay and act like it isn't my problem!"

He had to keep himself from actually yelling, instead raising his voice an octave and continuing.

"Exactly my point, it isn't your problem at all! You don't owe anything to these lowlife scumbags, and certainly not that asshole who nearly got away with that-"

A new perspective has been introduced to you, making your stomach twist.

"Scumbags, yeah? How can you not see that these are living people with families and lives to lead? You act like they have no meaning!"

Arrogance was getting the better of you two, making your words much darker.

"What I'm saying is that you're working yourself to death's door for a bunch of people you don't know! And then you want to go and leave Korea with no warning at all! Aren't you supposed to tell me what's going on with you? I put up with that guy for years and suddenly I'm no more than a roach in your grand adventure to save people!?"

You tense at his tone, well aware that you have been living in a dream for sometime.

"It's not like I'm doing this for kicks you know? I'm trying to do something decent with my life before something worse happens to someone I actually care about! You won't stop smoking even with the risks, you won't stop drinking because alcohol can't be that bad, and you can't even get through a day without picking a fight with Seungbae and-"

He's stopped glaring, and stopped fighting you because his personality is going to come through sooner or later. He can't think like this if he wants to stay hidden.

"And god forbid your conscience if anything happens to your trainwreck of a friend? Because you know I'm just gonna die someday don't you? Guess you and your buddies at that police station really are getting along? I bet you'll go back to Yura, or better yet Seungbae? They can offer stability and comfort where I'm just another delinquent with issues you can't cure!", He finishes his interpretation of the sentence for you.

He's getting unstable, not in his actions but his words. He's revealing too much of his mind for comfort and his wall is coming down fast. He can't lose you, not by his own idiotic statements, but they come like second nature.

When did his comforting words become poisoned razorblades? When did he become so paranoid of other relationships of yours? When did he care so much about your opinion?

Forever, forever and always. You'd become the one constant he had in this hellish place, in this vindictive world made of monsters.

"Do you have anything else you want to say, or is that it? Is your trust the only thing I've lost, or did I never have it to begin with? I guess I'm the idiot once again, right? Guess common decency isn't so common after all."

Your steps are quick as you escape through the front door, jacket hanging off your shoulders as you tug it on in a hurry.

"The one person I have left and he can't even stand me for a minute?"

Your thoughts are scrambled as you continue the walk throughout the empty streets, feeling nothing but a sense of abandonment.

You hadn't even grabbed your stuff, or your car keys, and only your phone and wallet resided in your pockets.

The sound of shoes skittering behind you was evident but your thoughts remained at the forefront of your mind.

"He had no right to say that, but he isn't entirely wrong either. Why do I have this job? I can't even save people, let alone him... Maybe If Seungbae took over-No! No I'll never let that ass get my job! I worked myself to exhaustion in the academy and damn him if he thinks I'll so easily put that aside! And screw Sang if he thinks I can't do it either! "

The sound of movement makes you turn your head reluctantly, slow and cautious.

This neighborhood had terrified you for years when you were a child and even a teenager. Some faces you remembered to avoid at the middle of the night, drug dealers and predators were a few in that list.

You'd advised your friend at every opportunity to move locations, but he would not listen to your worries. Instead he claimed that if any intruder or threat came, he could handle it, especially with a member of law enforcement in his side.

Yet, you had never felt more helpless because you didn't have a weapon besides pepper spray and maybe a ballpoint pen in your jacket.

You'd remembered how Sangwoo would sling an arm over your shoulder when you got the chills. He's learned how to pick up on fear and it was rather easy to sense when you were out of uniform.

"I've got your back, (y/n)."

"I've got a pocket knife in case."

"Stick to me,okay? I won't let them touch you."

He'd said these phrases countless times but you had never thought they would be of any real reassurance. You had told yourself to disregard the fear, disregard the reality of this area even though the crime reports said otherwise.

Where would you even run to? At night this place was like a maze of disgusting criminals and an infectious form of violence filled the air.

You couldn't help the urge to run, to run far far away and never look back. You found yourself running back towards his home, towards that vile building that would probably come crumbling down if you leaned on it too much.

What turn had you taken? How close was your home? How far was his house from your location? Was he even looking for you? What would happen if you were just another victim? What would Seungbae do? What would Yura do? What would the media say about you? What would happen to Sangwoo? What would happen to Yoonbum?

Faces of greed and despair flashed by you, staring at the poor women who could not control her world. The poor woman who was running into the arms of death, the most handsome creature at the moment. Death who could take her pain in a chaste kiss and give her nothing but the sweetest lies!

"Sangwoo! Sangwoo!"

You could hear the echoes of your pleading voice as the buildings seemed to surround you. The darkness seemed to pull at you, trying to destroy your sanity at the very edge of hope.

"Hey princess, looking for something?"

This wasn't a kind voice, and it certainly wasn't one that belonged to your friend. You kept moving forward, fear pulsing through you like a time bomb.

"Hey, didn't you put my buddy away? Yeah you're definitely that cop! What's a pretty thing like you doing around here?"

You tried to block out their voices, but the sea of erosion was unforgiving as it clashed with your heartstrings.

Vultures loped around your frame, taunting and ravenous. Some of them would startle you and make you flinch in a pathetic way. Sometimes they'd push you into one another, spinning you in a circle of mischief.

One was now pulling at your hair, while another seemed to claw at your back and arms. They wouldn't stop not even as you cried out desperately and fought like hell. It took one swing of your elbow against one perpetrator's nose for the game of cat and mouse to turn deadly.

You were perhaps too focused on one man to notice the other two getting ready to strike. You could feel a metallic sensation on your back and the struggling between the group of four was ended by a gunshot.

At first you didn't register what had happened, too caught up in how they dispersed like rats in various directions. Maybe they realized injuring an officer, even while off duty,was a foul move? Maybe it was how they saw your blonde counterpart rearing up to crack skulls and batter them bloody.

It seemed the world was a blur as you could barely tell up from down, let alone your friend's worried voice begging you to talk to him. He had kneeled on the pavement, allowing you to be cradled in his arms once again, only this time was far more dire.

He'd seen several people die in the last few months, all of which were by his own hand, but he wouldn't let you die on his watch.

"Hey (y/n) you cannot pass out on me, okay? Stay awake for me please, I need you to stay awake!"

The feeling of blood crawling up your throat was evident by the way you rolled your head to the side and coughed. It seemed every time you breathed in the oxygen would leak back out and you'd come back to a coughing fit.

"I can't breathe-Sang, I need you to call Seungbae or Yura-my phone is in my jacket."

He rummaged through your article of clothing, looking at every pocket for your phone.

"Hey, stay focused on me! I'll call him but he probably doesn't trust me, so I need you to give a little bit of help. Can you do that,(y/n)?"

You merely nodded, weaker than a couple of seconds ago. You couldn't sit up or really hold your phone so he had to put it to your ear.

"Seungbae I need you to listen to me-I've been shot in the abdomen and I think the bullet got to my lung-"

You were interrupted by another coughing fit, making your friend take the phone.

"Listen,I know you don't like me but we really need a ambulance or something to come here! She's been shot in the right lung and we don't know if the bleeding is going to stop! Just get here fast before- anything else happens!"

Sangwoo began to cover the wound with his free hand, worried that the blood flow was too fast. He could see it getting closer, feel death pulling you in.

"Where exactly are you two!? And how did this happen? Look from what I understand you need to stop the bleeding via either a bandage or some other material you have. And no matter what I need her conscious! You need to get her to stay awake and alert!"

The line was filled with the sounds of yelling and people bustling by, anxious and cautious all at once.

Sangwoo was trying his best to stay calm as he could see you fighting the urge to sleep.

"C'mon you can't die on me, not today! I said some shitty things and you need to stay alive so we can talk this through! You can do whatever you want when you're all better but until then you're stuck with me!"

He could see the blood covering every surface of your mouth as you chuckled lightly before a wry smile formed. The crimson color had never bothered him, not since he was a kid, but seeing you in so much pain was making him rethink everything.

You hadn't seen him actually cry in what felt like a million years, but the tears were becoming obvious as the clear liquid dripped down his cheeks. Crying was like poison to him, weakness a sin amongst men like him. Devil or not he was the most fearful he'd been since the day you almost got hurt by his bastard of a father.

"There's some paperwork in my nightstand-some letters as well-they're really important...."

Your grip on his shoulder was getting looser than before and he couldn't help but deny what you were suggesting.

"Your will isn't valid right now, because you are not dying! Can't you see you're going to be okay I promise, I won't let you die!"

Of course he always knew this was a possibility for a police officer to get shot in action, but it never applied to you. There was always that worry in the back of his mind that you were going to get hurt somehow, someway, but it never felt real.

Was this another delusion? Another bad dream where he'd wake up with another ill intent? Would he wake up with you in his arms after another idiotic argument? Would he finally have the courage to tell you he loved you? Would you survive this ordeal? And what would he do if you did die?

He could hear sirens approaching quickly, reassuring him that maybe there was hope after all.

"Hey over here, she needs help now!!"

Sure enough you were lifted promptly onto a gurney where several paramedics watched over you. Your shirt was cut off, revealing the disgusting bruises once more, along with the bullet hole that had drilled through a couple ribs and your right lung.

You could feel yourself slipping away, slowly falling further into the depths of exhaustion and the arms of the grim reaper. You felt cold even with the warmth flooding your abdomen and the want of comfort was gnawing at you.

You could recall the bright, white lights of the hospital along with the smell of antiseptics in the air, making you feel slightly worried. Hospitals weren't your favorite place to dwell, especially after you had recounted the several adventures that landed you here in your adolescence.

"We need to extract the bullet and make sure her ribs haven't punctured her lung any further."

You couldn't hear the rest of the details, only aware that the blonde was getting impatient as both Seungbae and a nurse had to talk him down from his hysteria.

He glanced in your direction before deciding to speak with you before this operation. He squeezed your hand as you faded out of consciousness and the doctors began their approach.