Explosive Hearts: A Bday Surprise ꣑ৎ

Hi I read your relationship petcanons with Dabi (and Shigaraki) and I just want to ask if you could do one for Spinner?

Yea! I definitely will! :3 thx for asking!!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒

𖤐 synopsis: in the dimly lit league of villains' hideout, an unexpected moment of vulnerability unfolds between you and dabi as you both share painful memories of your fathers.

𖤐 trigger warnings: dark themes, abuse (implied)

𖤐 pairing: touya (dabi) todoroki x villain! gender neutral! reader

the afternoon light filtered weakly through the boards covering the windows of the league of villains' current hideout. dust particles danced in the thin beams of sunlight that managed to break through, giving the otherwise dreary room a strange, almost ethereal quality. the abandoned building had become home for the past three weeks—not the worst place you'd stayed since joining the league, but certainly not the best either.

you lounged on the worn couch, your legs stretched across dabi's lap as he absently traced the scars on your arm with his fingertips. his touch was feather-light, careful not to press too hard against your skin. despite his rough exterior and the violent nature of his quirk, dabi always touched you with a gentleness that still surprised you sometimes.

the hideout was unusually quiet today. shigaraki had taken toga, twice, and spinner on some reconnaissance mission, while mr. compress and kurogiri were meeting with potential allies across town. it was rare to have the place entirely to yourselves, and the silence felt almost luxurious after days of toga's manic laughter and twice's constant contradictory chatter.

"what are you thinking about?" dabi asked, his deep voice breaking through the comfortable silence. his turquoise eyes studied your face with an intensity that used to make you uncomfortable but now felt like home. you shifted slightly, adjusting your position on the couch. "just enjoying the quiet, honestly."

dabi's lips quirked up on one side—the closest thing to a genuine smile he ever showed. "never thought i'd miss silence until i joined this circus."

you laughed softly. "remember when toga and twice had that three-hour argument about whether strawberry milk was better than chocolate?" "and then spinner threatened to duct tape their mouths shut?" dabi shook his head, the staples at the corners of his mouth catching the light. "i nearly burned the place down just to escape."

"but you didn't," you said, reaching out to push a strand of his dark hair away from his face. "because underneath all that brooding and those threats, you care about them."

dabi scoffed, though he didn't pull away from your touch. "i don't care about anyone in this league except you."

"mmm, keep telling yourself that," you teased, knowing full well how annoyed he got when you suggested he had a soft spot for the other members.

he rolled his eyes but didn't argue further. his hand continued its gentle exploration of your arm, tracing each scar with a reverence that made your heart ache. some were from your life before the league, others collected during various missions. dabi knew the story behind each one—just as you knew the story behind each of his purple scars that mapped out his body like a grotesque puzzle.

"this one," he said, touching a particularly jagged mark that ran from your elbow to your wrist, "still looks painful."

"it's not anymore," you assured him. "just a reminder of why we're here. why we're fighting." dabi nodded, understanding perfectly. every member of the league carried their own wounds—some visible, others buried deep beneath the surface. it was what united you all, in a way. the scars left by a society that had failed you.

"speaking of reminders," you said, sitting up a little straighter. "i found something yesterday when i was out." you reached into your pocket and pulled out a crumpled newspaper clipping. "thought you might want to see it."

dabi took the paper from your hands, his expression hardening as he unfolded it. it was an article about the number two hero, endeavor, speaking at some charity event about supporting children with difficult-to-control quirks. the irony was sickening.

"bastard," dabi muttered, his fingers tightening around the paper. small wisps of blue flame began to lick at the edges of the clipping. "still pretending to be a fucking saint."

you watched as the paper blackened and curled, turning to ash in dabi's palm. the blue flames danced across his skin but never extended to where his other hand rested on your leg. his control was impeccable—it had to be, after what he'd been through.

"i know you don't like talking about him," you said carefully. "but whenever you see anything related to him, you get this look in your eyes…" dabi's jaw clenched, the staples stretching his scarred skin even tighter. "what look?"

"like you're back there," you said softly. "back in that house with him."

for a long moment, dabi said nothing. the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken memories and pain. you didn't push—you'd learned early in your relationship that pushing dabi only made him retreat further into himself. instead, you waited, giving him the space to decide whether to let you in or change the subject entirely. finally, he brushed the remaining ashes from his palm onto the floor. "what about you?" he asked, deflecting as he often did. "you never talk about your old man either."

you shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant despite the sudden tightness in your chest. "not much to talk about. can't miss what was never there."

dabi's gaze sharpened. "sometimes that leaves its own kind of scar." the observation caught you off guard. it wasn't often that dabi showed this level of perception about emotional matters—or perhaps he simply chose not to reveal it most of the time.

"i guess it does," you admitted. "but different from yours. my father just… wasn't around. yours was there in all the worst ways possible."

something shifted in dabi's expression then, a crack appearing in his carefully maintained façade. his eyes darted to the boarded-up windows, then to the door, as if ensuring you were truly alone before he allowed himself to speak.

"sometimes i think it would have been better if he hadn't been there at all," dabi said, his voice so low you had to lean in to hear him. "if he'd just fucked off and left us alone instead of…" he trailed off, his free hand clenching into a fist.

you placed your hand over his, feeling the tension in his fingers. "instead of what, dabi?"

he looked at you then, really looked at you, with a vulnerability that made your breath catch. in that moment, he wasn't dabi the villain, the man who burned heroes without remorse—he was toya, the broken child beneath all those scars. "instead of training me until i broke," he said finally, the words rushing out like they'd been trapped inside him for too long. "until i literally fucking burned."

you held his gaze, letting him see that you weren't afraid of his truth. "tell me."

and for the first time since you'd known him, dabi began to talk about his father—about endeavor, about enji todoroki. about what it meant to be the firstborn son of a man obsessed with surpassing all might at any cost.

"he married my mother for her quirk," dabi explained, his voice hollow. "it was never about love or family. it was about breeding the perfect weapon. and i was the first attempt."

you listened, your heart breaking as he described the "training" sessions that started when he was just four years old. how endeavor would push him for hours, demanding he produce hotter flames, maintain them longer, control them better. how his tiny body would shake with exhaustion, how his skin would blister and burn from his own quirk.

"my fire was hot—hotter than his. that's what he wanted," dabi said, a bitter smile twisting his scarred lips. "but my body couldn't handle it. not like his. i tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen. said i was being weak, that i needed to push through it."

"he was wrong," you said firmly, squeezing his hand. "he was wrong about you."

dabi laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor. "oh, i know that now. but back then? he was my father. my hero." the last word dripped with venom. "i thought if i could just try harder, be stronger, he'd finally be proud of me. that he'd finally love me." you felt a burning behind your eyes but forced back the tears. dabi didn't need your pity—he needed your understanding.

"what about your mother?" you asked gently. "did she try to stop him?"

a flash of genuine pain crossed dabi's face. "she tried. in her way. but she was… damaged. the more children she had, the more unstable she became. and he kept pushing her to have more, hoping the 'perfect combination' would eventually emerge." he paused, his gaze distant. "until shoto was born." you'd heard him mention that name before—his youngest brother, the one with both fire and ice. the "masterpiece" that endeavor had been striving for.

"once shoto came along with his perfect half-and-half quirk, i became obsolete," dabi continued. "still had to train, still had to meet his impossible standards, but without even the sliver of attention i'd had before. i was just… a failed experiment."

"so what happened?" you asked, though you had a sickening feeling you already knew the answer. the scars that covered so much of his body told part of the story, but you'd never heard him explain exactly how he'd gotten them.

dabi was quiet for so long you thought he might not answer. when he finally spoke again, his voice was distant, as if he were narrating someone else's tragedy rather than his own.

"i wanted to prove i wasn't a failure. that my fire was special—better than his, better than shoto's." his eyes glazed slightly, lost in the memory. "i pushed myself further than i ever had before. the flames were beautiful—so hot they turned blue. perfect control, just like he always wanted."

he held up his scarred hands, staring at them. "for about thirty seconds. then my skin started to cook." you swallowed hard, imagining a young toya engulfed in his own flames, screaming in agony.

"he watched it happen," dabi said, his voice now eerily calm. "stood there while i burned. i remember looking at him through the flames, waiting for him to save me. he just… looked disappointed. like i'd broken his favorite toy."

"dabi," you whispered, unable to find words adequate for such horror.

"i don't remember much after that," he continued. "i should have died. sometimes i think i did die, and whatever i am now is just… the ghost of toya todoroki walking around in this patchwork body."

you moved then, shifting to kneel in front of him, taking both his hands in yours. "you're not a ghost. you're here. you survived."

"did i?" he looked at you with those piercing turquoise eyes. "toya todoroki died that day. i made sure of it. dabi rose from those ashes."

you reached up to touch his face, your fingers gently tracing the stapled scars. "and dabi is who i fell in love with. but that doesn't mean toya isn't still in there somewhere."

he closed his eyes briefly at your touch, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability before the walls came back up. "toya was weak. he wanted his father's approval, his love. dabi just wants to watch him burn."

"and you will," you assured him. "when the time is right. the league will help you expose him for what he really is."

dabi nodded, some of the tension leaving his body as he focused back on the present, on the mission ahead. on the revenge he'd built his new life around.

"what about you?" he asked after a moment, clearly wanting to shift the focus away from himself. "you said your father was absent. what's that story?" you settled back beside him on the couch, respecting his need to change the subject while recognizing his genuine interest in your past. it was only fair—he'd shared his darkest memories with you.

"not nearly as dramatic as yours," you said with a small shrug. "he just… left when i was three. don't really remember him much at all."

"he ever try to contact you?” you shook your head. "birthday card once a year until i was ten. then nothing. my mother said he had 'commitments elsewhere,' whatever that meant."

"what was your mother like?" dabi asked, his hand finding yours again.

"tired," you answered honestly. "always working two or three jobs to keep a roof over our heads. she did her best, i think, but she wasn't really… present, even when she was physically there." dabi nodded, understanding.

"emotional absence can fuck you up just as much as physical absence."

"yeah," you agreed, surprised by his insight. "she never hurt me, never yelled or anything like that. but she also never really saw me, you know? it was like i was just another responsibility, another burden she had to carry."

"what about when your quirk manifested?" dabi asked. it was a natural question—for most children, the emergence of their quirk was a pivotal moment, one where parental guidance was crucial.

you laughed bitterly. "she was terrified. my quirk isn't exactly… family-friendly." your quirk—the ability to absorb and manipulate the negative emotions of others, turning them into a physical force—had first manifested during a particularly bad day at school when you were six. a bully who'd been tormenting you suddenly collapsed, screaming about the darkness crushing him. no one had understood what happened, but your mother had taken one look at your glowing eyes and known.

"she tried to help me suppress it," you continued. "said it was dangerous, that people wouldn't understand. that they'd think i was villain material." "self-fulfilling prophecy," dabi noted with a smirk.

"i guess so," you agreed. "by the time i was a teenager, i'd learned to control it well enough to use it selectively. started small—making bullies feel their own cruelty, making abusive teachers face their own insecurities." "vigilante justice," dabi said, a note of approval in his voice.

"it felt good," you admitted. "to finally use what everyone told me was a villain's quirk to help people who were suffering. but society doesn't see it that way, does it? using an 'evil' quirk makes you evil, no matter your intentions."

"this fucked-up hero society only sees in black and white," dabi agreed. "no room for the gray areas where most of us actually live."

you nodded, thinking about the path that had eventually led you to the league. "after my mother died, there was nothing holding me back anymore. no one to disappoint, no one to pretend for. i started using my quirk more openly, targeting people who abused their power—corrupt officials, violent criminals the heroes couldn't be bothered with, businessmen exploiting their workers."

"and that's when you caught shigaraki's attention," dabi concluded, having heard this part of your story before.

"yeah. found myself cornered by some pro heroes who didn't appreciate my particular brand of justice. thought i was done for until a warp gate opened up right in front of me." you smiled at the memory, despite the fear you'd felt at the time. "never thought i'd be grateful to see a bunch of notorious villains, but that day i was."

dabi's arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. "lucky for me they recruited you." his voice was gruff, but the sentiment behind it was genuine.

you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. "do you ever wonder what would have happened if our fathers had been different? if your dad hadn't been an abusive monster, if mine had actually stuck around?"

"we wouldn't be here," dabi said simply. "you might've been a licensed hero, using your quirk to help people through the proper channels." "and you?"

dabi was quiet for a moment, considering. "i don't know. maybe the same. or maybe i'd have followed in the old man's footsteps anyway, become the next endeavor." he shuddered slightly at the thought. "sometimes i wonder if that flame is in my blood regardless of what he did to me."

"it's not," you said firmly. "you're nothing like him, dabi. your anger, your fire—it comes from a place of justice, not ego. you want to burn away the corruption, not become the number one hero."

he looked at you with a mixture of skepticism and hope, as if he wanted to believe your words but couldn't quite bring himself to. "maybe. or maybe i'm just as obsessed with destroying him as he was with surpassing all might. different goals, same fucking toxic mindset."

you sat up straighter, turning to face him fully. "no. there's a difference. he hurt innocent people—his wife, his children—to achieve his ambition. you've never done that. you've never hurt someone who didn't deserve it."

"tell that to the heroes i've burned," dabi said darkly.

"those 'heroes' prop up a system that abandoned both of us," you reminded him. "that lets people like your father abuse their children in the name of creating better heroes. that labels children as villains because of quirks they never asked for." dabi studied your face for a long moment before a genuine smile—small but real—curved his lips. "how did i end up with someone who actually believes in me?"

"because beneath all that anger and cynicism, you still believe there's something worth fighting for," you told him, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. "and so do i."

for a moment, you stayed like that, sharing breath in the dusty afternoon light of the hideout. two broken people who had found each other in the darkness, whose scars complemented rather than repelled each other.

"we're going to tear it all down," dabi murmured, his lips brushing against yours. "the hero society, the systems that failed us. and when i finally face him—when endeavor finally sees who i've become—i want you there with me."

"i will be," you promised, closing the distance between you with a gentle kiss. "until every false hero burns."

outside, the sun began to set, casting long shadows through the boarded windows. soon the others would return, bringing with them the chaos and noise that defined the league of villains. but for now, in this quiet moment, there was just you and dabi—two children abandoned by their fathers in different ways, who had found their own path to justice in a world that had never wanted either of you.

and if that path was stained with ash and marked by flames, so be it. some things needed to burn before they could be rebuilt.

side note: this is an old, but long drabble I decided to post because well- why not?

mutuals: @haikyuubby @https-bakugo @va-3 @lotusstarr @kitkat13001 @n3r0-5352

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

꒰୨୧◞ 。𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 + 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆

— 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ✶⋆.˚ ⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓٠ ࣪⭑ ⋆ 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 ๋࣭⭑ ⋆ 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄 ✦ . ⁺

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐌𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐚

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐚 𝐱 𝐔𝐀 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 @haikyuubby

MEETING NEITO MONOMA:

he probably met you during the sports festival or some inter-class training exercise. instantly, he's got you pegged. what's your quirk? How can he use it against you...or, well, analyze it strategically?

if you're in 1-A: Oh, the drama. he'll use every opportunity to subtly (or not-so-subtly) mock your class. it's his bread and butter, but there’s a glint in his eye when you retort. he loves someone who keeps up.

if you’re in another support class: he’s lowkey impressed with your skills, but he’s not gonna show it at first. he’ll “test” your inventions/ideas, offering critiques that are unnecessarily harsh but secretly constructive.

no matter what, he remembers everything about your quirk after seeing it once. he's already thinking about how to use it. not necessarily in a malicious way, but in a “what if” scenario kind of way. like a twisted game of chess.

he'll probably try to shake you with a comment that sounds like it's targeted at you, but actually, it's targeting all of 1-A.

MONOMA CRUSHING ON YOU:

he denies it. vehemently. to everyone. especially himself. it's "strategic interest," nothing more. he needs to understand you...for reasons.

he starts showing up where you are. A lot. "purely coincidental," of course. he just happens to be studying in the library at the same time you are...every day.

his jabs become...less pointed. More teasing. he still roasts 1-A, but when you're around, the jabs are more directed at you for whatever your thoughts are at that moment. and he actually listens (mostly).

he will “help” you study, which quickly devolves into him quizzing you relentlessly and then smugly correcting you, but will explain in a way that is actually beneficial.

if someone else is flirting with you? oh, he’s livid. but he’s not going to start a fight. instead, he will find some way to subtly undermine the potential rival with a cutting remark about their quirk or their intelligence while maintaining plausible deniability.

he analyzes everything about you. your strengths, your weaknesses, your study habits, your favorite tea, your handwriting, even the way you fidget when you're nervous. it's all "data," but he's memorizing it like it's poetry.

secretly, he likes the way you challenge him. you make him think, and he appreciates that, even if he’d rather die than admit it.

DATING NEITO MONOMA:

the confession? a disaster. he probably tries to play it off as an experiment, a challenge, or some other convoluted excuse, but the blush on his face gives him away. you have to basically spell it out for him.

dates are…interesting. expect a lot of intellectual debates, museum visits disguised as "research," and him trying to impress you with obscure facts.

he's surprisingly attentive. he remembers every little detail you’ve ever mentioned and will use that to surprise you with thoughtful (if slightly eccentric) gestures.

he will defend you to the death. if anyone dares to insult you, he will unleash a torrent of scathing wit so brutal it would make bakugo blush.

he loves to copy your quirk, especially if it's something he can use to tease you. expect demonstrations and exaggerated imitations.

he has a soft spot for physical affection, but he’ll never initiate it in public. it's usually a stolen hand squeeze or a quick hug when no one's looking. he’s a bit awkward about it, but he cherishes those moments.

he’s fiercely protective of you, but not in a smothering way. he trusts your judgment and abilities. he just wants to make sure you know he's always there for you.

he is a surprisingly good listener, even if he interjects with snarky comments from time to time. he genuinely cares about what you have to say and values your opinion.

he’s a surprisingly loyal and devoted partner. once he commits, he's all in.

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

I’m sorry but I love the smash books sm. . .

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST.

class 1A

ua students

vigilantes

pro-heroes

villains

civilians

© property of kenzdolls

Why do I feel like bro motherfucking did this at the beginning of the league…

I’m fucking cackling this is going to heal the world and our hearts by it’s IMMENSE power 🫶🤓

@https-bakugo @majoryeager104

Justin Bieber x mha is healing the world

@17yoeren on tiktok

uhmmm happy easter y’all

𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧! 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐰𝐚𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

MEETING TOMURA SHIGARAKI:

first meeting? he barely acknowledges you. he's got bigger things to worry about than some new recruit. you're just another pawn to him.

he watches you carefully during your first mission together. not because he cares, but because he needs to know if you're competent enough to be useful. if you screw up, expect a harsh comment.

your quirk fascinates him, but not in a good way at first. he sees it as a variable he needs to understand and control. he might ask you a million questions.

if your quirk is touch-based, he's extremely wary. he'll keep his distance and probably wear gloves even when he's not using his own quirk. 

he forgets your name for weeks. you're just "the [quirk name] user" to him.

he tests you, pushing your buttons, and trying to figure out what makes you tick. he needs to know everything about his teammates, obviously.

you're probably the only one who doesn't flinch when he gets angry. he notices.

TOMURA CRUSHING ON YOU:

the first time he actually listens to you – really listens, not juststrategizing – he's caught off guard. 

he starts finding excuses to be around you. "i need to observe your quirk usage" turns into "i'm sitting in the same room as you while you do absolutely nothing."

he gets unreasonably irritated when other league members talk to you for too long. he would never admit he's jealous.

he starts mimicking your mannerisms, subconsciously. 

he starts cleaning up his hands some more. not because he wants to touch you, no, no, no. it's because he wants to seem presentable for all for one.

small acts of "kindness," like making sure you're included in mission briefings or "allowing" you to choose your assignments. he's still the boss, after all.

he notices the little things about you: the way you furrow your brow when you're concentrating, the way you fidget when you're nervous, your favorite snack.

he'll deny it to his grave, but he starts taking your opinions into consideration.

he starts scratching his neck a LOT more when you are around for some reason.

if someone hurts you, he is more enraged than he is normaly.

he is more likely to listen to you.

he can't help but stare at you.

he accidentally calls you by a pet name when he's frustrated, and he gets even MORE frustrated after he realizes what he did.

he starts losing sleep, which is never a good sign for his mental state. he doesn't know why, it must be because you are bothering him or something.

DATING TOMURA SHIGARAKI:

the "confession" is less of a romantic declaration and more of a mumbled agreement. "i guess you're... not entirely useless."

physical touch is a HUGE hurdle. it starts with accidental brushes, then maybe a hesitant shoulder bump. he doesn't trust himself (or his quirk) to get any closer. 

lots of late-night talks about villains, society, and their shared hatred. it's his way of connecting.

he still doesn't say your name often. pet names become his go-to.

he is very protective and possessive of you.

dates? forget fancy restaurants or romantic walks. you're more likely to find yourselves planning world domination over cheap ramen.

he actually listens and remembers things you say and like; if it's useful for a mission, of course.

he can get jealous and possessive, and he isn't afraid to show it.

he occasionally wants to hold your hand but doesn't know how to approach it without disintegrating you.

he gets genuinely upset if you get hurt.

he hates seeing you sad or stressed.

he's still a mess, but your mess. And secretly, he wouldn't have it any other way.

sleepovers are uncommon since his skin can be harmful, but there are nights when he is okay with it.

he's not a cuddler, but he secretly likes it when you snuggle him.

he always wants to be around you.

he would go with you everywhere.

he's willing to do anything for you once he's in love.

when he actually calls you his partner, you know its serious.

sometimes when he's asleep, he has nightmares of you leaving him/ dying, so he hugs you closer in his sleep.

he would take you out on a picnic if you asked, even though he would hate it.

he will often ask you if you are doing alright or if you needed anything.

he would kill for you.

you are, without a doubt, his player 2.

he would never admit it, but you are his weakness.

it makes him very happy when you hug him.

he likes hearing you call him by his name.

he will do anything for you; wether it’s killing dealing with someone, or if it’s getting you anything you desire

he loves tolerates you a lot

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —