Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Kamino incident had brought hero society to its knees.

Hope was fraying at its edges, splintered and jagged, coming closer and closer to breaking with each villainous deed committed. There were throats to be cut. Bodies to be buried. People that needed to disappear. And that is where you came in.

Crimson feathers. Eyes like molten gold.

You could tell why he was beloved. His status as a hero heartthrob was well known. Understandable, really, when you had the chance to look at him closely. Hiding beneath that jacket was a weapon, carefully selected and honed to the sharpest of points. Almost as sharp as you.

For his fans, there were only boyish smiles and alluring charm. For them, his golden eyes were alight with mischief and mirth. But he was not smiling now.

It wasn't the first time you'd ever seen Hawks, but it was the first you'd truly seen him.

Those glimmering eyes were no longer hiding the darkness within them. His perfect lips were pressed in a thin line as he listened. Processed. Obeyed.

"You are to infiltrate the League of Villains," they told him.

There was a flicker of something in those eyes. Not surprise. It seemed he was prepared for just about anything. Perhaps it was doubt. Did he not believe he was capable of making them trust him? You knew the kind of training he'd received. This was what he was created for. A perfect weapon. One no-one would think could possibly be a double agent.

Hawks' eyes glided to the darkest spot in the room as the cogs whirred inside his head.

He was looking right at you, though he didn't know it.

They wanted you there — the Commission. To listen, though not to be seen.

Nyx is what they called you, for the goddess of night. If you had a real name, it was lost long ago. Not that you cared. Just like him, you were a weapon. Unlike him, you didn't exist.

Where Hawks was front and center, the number two hero, you existed only in the shadow. A hero unknown. An assassin and a ghost.

Your toes twitched inside your boots, wanting to move, to step into the light just once. What would it feel like to have those pretty gold eyes settle on you? What would he see when he looked at you — a kindred spirit or a soulless being?

You watched as Hawks dipped his head, dirty blonde curls bobbing. He took his orders like the good servant he was, just like you always did, then turned and walked out, his footfalls echoing long after he disappeared.

"You can come out now, Nyx."

You obeyed, stepping out of the shadow, materialising before your superiors as if from thin air.

"We do not see fit to inform him of your involvement just yet," they said. "Let it play out. They will trust you far easier than they will trust him. How goes your investigation?"

"Dabi is leaving a trail of corpses in his wake," You explained, steady and devoid of much feeling. "He is difficult to catch. Almost as good at hiding as I am. I have a lead though, and I know where I can find him tonight."

"Good," they said. "You know what to do."

You bowed your head. "Yes, sir."

The carnage left behind in Dabi's wake was almost too much for you to stomach. Rended flesh. Skin like wax. Charred and fleshy. The smell of burnt meat lingered in your nose long after you'd departed from whatever cruel scenes he left behind. At least you were clean about it. No nonsense and screaming. A quick flick of your knife or a pull of your trigger and that was that.

Like Hawks, you were created by the Commission. Plucked from the streets and made into a hero — if you could call yourself that. Heroes tended to be seen, where you were not. Your quirk made sure of that.

They — and you — called it Shinobi. You were born to infiltrate. To not be seen or heard. To kill swiftly and efficiently.

The shadows were where you hid. Inside them, you ceased to exist altogether. You became shadow. There was nowhere you could not go. Nowhere but the light, where all hidden things became known. You were formless in the dark. A keyhole or a minuscule gap beneath a door was all you needed to enter a locked room. You could not be seen or heard, not unless you wanted to. And when you wanted just that, you could attack from those same shadows, your enemy always unknowing till your blade finds their throat. Physically, you were much stronger than the average person, versed in all forms of combat, though your strength was nothing like power-based quirks. A slight advantage, that was all.

Though you and Hawks shared a similar upbringing, you never met him face-to-face, and he never knew of your existence.

That would soon change, though. He was given the same task as you. To infiltrate the League.

***

Hours later, you sat in the corner of a bar, index finger trailing the rim of your glass. You were dressed in black, your hood up, masking the one part of you that was bright — your hair. White, like freshly fallen snow. So cold in tone it seemed almost blue in a certain light.

You slumped against the rickety leather chair, melding into the shadow but still very much visible. No-one looked your way, though. This wasn't the kind of place where nosiness was tolerated. Look at anyone there the wrong way and you had an eighty percent chance they'd try and kill you before the bar closed.

You'd found out about this place through a low-level mafia member who knew a dealer who knew Dabi and frequently came to him when he was in need of supplies, apparently. Weapons. Contacts. Tech. Illegal support items. Even food. There were many people in this part of the city that couldn't show their faces in daylight, and a face like Dabi's was easy to recognise.

The glass parted your lips as you took a large sip, suppressing a wince as the alcohol burned its way into your gut. If the Commission knew you were drinking on the job, you were sure they'd have a lot to say.

A girl needs her vices, though.

It was almost midnight before he entered the bar.

Like you, he wore black, a hood pulled over his head, casting a shadow over his patchwork skin, concealing it to anyone who didn't look closely enough. And no-one here was keen to.

Wordlessly, he slid into a booth across from a middle-aged grey-haired man who greeted him almost fondly and waved his hand to the bartender, who brought down a bottle of brandy and two glasses.

They chatted. Dabi poured.

You watched him bring the glass to his lips, the sleeve of his hoodie falling down his forearm just enough to reveal the staples at his wrist holding his ruined skin together. He polished off the glass in one long gulp.

Impressive.

The corner of your mouth twitched up. This will be fun, you thought. It was rare you had an opportunity to engage with your marks so closely. Usually, you'd murder them the first time they laid eyes on you. Not this time though. You needed to make them trust you, even like you.

There were few things in life as exhilarating as skating on a knife's edge. One slip — one misstep and you'd be dead.

No chance you'd fail, though. You had little intention of being barbecued.

Dabi's eyes skated across the room, not lingering on anyone, not even you. So close to the shadowy corner, it may be a case that he didn't see you at all. The darkness had a way of reaching out to you, even when you weren't trying to hide yourself.

He leaned across the table to speak to his companion, his words hushed and indiscernible.

You finished your drink, almost tempted to get another one, but you decided against it.

It was time to leave.

You brushed past the booth Dabi was in on your way to the door, not looking back in his direction as you pushed open the door and stepped into the cool night air. Outside, there were a few unfavourable people enjoying a cigarette as they chatted amongst themselves. You kept your eyes glued forward, following the alleyway until you were sure no-one was around. It was then you dipped into the darkness, sliding up the side of the nearest building like a wraith, materialising on the roof.

Soundlessly, you leapt from rooftop to rooftop until you positioned yourself across the alleyway from the door you exited moments ago, waiting for the patchwork villain to make his exit.

You had a gun tucked in the waistband of your leggings. A high-performance piece made for breaking through skin tougher than stone. But it was your knives you prized above all else. One at your hip, one in each boot. Deliciously sharp and deadly. It was unlikely you'd get to use them tonight. Maybe.

Dabi appeared at the door of the bar less than a quarter hour after you'd left, his entire exchange with the dealer lasting only a half hour. He looked both ways before starting right, hands buried in the pouch of his hoodie, tufts of dark hair peaking from out from beneath his hood.

There was a chill in the air, enough that Dabi's breaths were visible to you as you trailed him along the rooftops high above his head. He walked briskly, opting for alleyways and shadows as he ventured deeper into the more decrepit parts of the city. The rooftops grew closer to the ground and you melded back into shadow as you opted to continue on the ground.

You didn't keep to your shadows, though each step you took made no sound.

Even from a dozen meters behind, you could tell how much larger he was than you. You'd read everything the Commission knew about him or lack thereof, really. His quirk was flame, though it burned hotter than even Endevour's. You'd watched video footage of Dabi during the Kamino incident, the manic look in his eyes, the wildness of his fire. Soon, you'd know more about him — about all of them — than the Commission currently.

Butterflies fluttered in your gut. Nerves or excitement, you couldn't tell. Perhaps both.

Dabi rounded a corner, disappearing from your view.

You picked up the pace, leaping lightly from foot to foot as you hunted your prey. The corner loomed closer. You pressed your back against the concrete wall, peering around to set your sights on him once more, only he was nowhere to be seen.

"Shit," you cursed, stepping out into the dark alleyway.

Did he pick up his pace? Start to run? Had he known he was being—

Before your thoughts had the chance to collect themselves, a hand had grasped your throat and you were slammed harshly against a concrete wall, your brain smacking against the inside of your skull.

That is going to hurt tomorrow.

The large hand holding you by the throat burned, but not enough to blister.

A warning.

"You have three seconds to tell me why you were following me before I turn you to ash."

His voice was deep, yet smooth.

You hadn't intended for him to corner you this early, you weren't even actively trying to get caught yet he had still sensed you. I underestimated him. He was far more aware of his surroundings than you'd given him credit for.

A lackey of moderate intelligence with a penchant for arson is all you'd pegged him for. Yet the man before you was intelligent, cunning, swift and brutal. Not too rash, as you hoped.

You didn't want to reveal your quirk too early, though the situation at hand was in need of a shift. You dipped one hand into the shadows behind you. Good. An inch back was all you needed, not enough to reveal your quirk but enough for his grip to loosen enough for you to swivel around him.

He was fast, but you were faster.

You pressed your favourite knife to his throat. "Relax," you said, a smirk curling onto your plump lips. "I'm not here for a fight."

The first thing you noticed about him was how striking the blue of his eyes were. So bright and beautiful for the darkness that lurked within them. You were close enough that the heat of your breath would be felt on his lips, as his was on yours.

You removed your knife from his neck, but not before the scent of smoke and the sweetness of brandy enveloped your senses.

"Then what is it you want?" He asked, his tone softer as his gaze travelled the length of you. Sizing you up as if you were his prey, and not the other way around.

"You are part of the League, right?" You asked, voice like honey. "I want to speak with your leader."

Amusement wove through his smirk. "And why is that?"

You gazed up at him, eyes twinkling. "Maybe I want to join your little band of outlaws."

He cocked his head to the side. "How did you find me?"

"I've been watching you."

He grinned. "I'm surprised I didn't see you before if that is your best attempt at sneaking."

You sheathed the knife you held in your hand, shrugging nonchalantly at him. "Believe me, if I wanted I could have tailed you the entire way back to your little hideout and you'd be none the wiser."

"Then why didn't you?"

His azure eyes pierced through you.

"I figured it would be best to not spook a group of individuals with some very deadly quirks, and I'd prefer to have an introduction."

"And who would I be introducing?"

His tone was almost playful.

"Nyx," you said, voice breathy.

"Quirk?"

You winked. "Let's not spoil all the surprises, shall we? Introduce me and I'll show you just how useful I can be."

Dabi waved his hand dismissively, starting down the alleyway in the same direction he was walking before, doubtfully going back to his leader straight away with you so close — and lacking trust. "I'll consider it."

"Don't leave a girl hanging."

He didn't turn back around, but you could sense a grin through the tone of his voice. "If you're so capable, I'm sure you can find me tomorrow, and I'll have an answer for you."

You watched him disappear, melding into the shadow almost as if he was you.

The interaction hadn't gone as you'd intended, but not so dissimilar either.

It had you wondering, though, if it was truly you who had caught him, or if you were the one who'd been caught.

Chapter Text

These days, you spent most of the bright hours sleeping, and most of the nights slinking around the darker parts of the city.

Your contact with the Commission was non-existent for the time being. Neither they — or you — could risk any kind of meeting now that you'd revealed yourself to Dabi. It would be easier for you to gain his trust than Hawks, and perhaps that was all part of the Commissions grand plan. If Hawks faltered, it only made you look all the better of a candidate to Dabi and the League. To them, you had no known involvement with heroes. No heroic deeds under your belt that made you more difficult to trust.

You liked to think you were still a hero, in some way. Part of you envied that about Hawks. He got to stand out in the spotlight, adored by the world while you hid amongst the shadows. The same upbringing and task, yet you'd never receive any kind of recognition for it. Like you were a shadow of him — the perfect hero.

When you were younger, you'd dreamt of joining UA. Though you had no flashy quirk, you were determined to be a hero, following in the footsteps of those somewhat like you. Like Eraser Head. As you got older, trained harder, became the perfect covert agent, you knew that dream would never come to fruition. You didn't hate what the Commission turned you into, your role was just as necessary as theirs, but you longed to step into the light one day. To show the world that you were there.

The outcome of your current mission would eventually lead you to become known to the world, you were sure of it. Maybe then you could stand by his side, instead of in his shadow.

A pretty dream.

Everything was changing, for better and for worse. No-one was safe from what was to come, and you had no doubt whoever came to stand against the evil in the world would earn the right to be called a hero. Even the youngest of UA were fighting for what they believed in with their lives.

Removing yourself from your thoughts, you shimmied into your hooded catsuit, determined to continue your mission to whatever end.

Dabi was challenging you, and you loved a challenge.

No longer trying to make yourself inconspicuous, you strapped two long knives to the outside of each of your thighs. Along with those in your boots, and the two small throwing knives concealed in your sleeves, that made six. You opted to leave your guns behind, preferring blades for the evening before you.

What the patchwork villain didn't know is that you'd already been tailing him for weeks, and you had a good idea where their hideout was located, at least down to the general area. There was no room for doubt, for error. This was what you were good at. This was what you'd been trained for.

The Commission wanted information on what the League was planning, down to every last detail. They weren't interested in removing them just yet. It had to be seamless. No loose ends and lack of proper information before the heroes made their move.

When you left your apartment, the sun was long set. Tonight was warmer than it had been the night before, though the cold rarely bothered you as you disappeared into the darkness, using the rooftops to travel between different parts of the city with relative ease.

You found yourself wondering if Hawks had made contact with the League yet, though you doubted he'd found an easy in just yet. You wanted to solidify your place first and watch the winged hero make his moves with a front-row seat.

For the first few hours of darkness, there was no sign of Dabi. He's trying to make it hard for me. Excitement bubbled in your veins. The broker he'd made contact with yesterday was nowhere to be found, and the bar he'd used as his meeting place was devoid of him, though you'd expected that.

After their failed kidnapping of UA student Katsuki Bakugo, and involvement with the Shie Hassaikai, the League was splintered. The lack of proper planning and execution made them seem... juvenile. Though they had managed to escape, the notoriety of their efforts made them seem less like true villains and more like delinquents playing pretend. They'd returned to hiding, but characters like Dabi weren't fond of sitting around, and during your investigation you'd found places he frequented in search of new recruits and aid from the less-than members of society.

It was just a matter of waiting, and you'd find him skulking around somewhere.

At least you hoped.

From where you were seated, legs dangling off the side of one of the taller buildings in the area, you could see a good chunk of the city, and hear the mirthful laughter of drunkards. It was moments like this you wished you had a quirk like Hawks'. It must be so liberating to be able to soar so high above the rest of the world.

In the corner of your eye, a spark of cobalt blue caught your attention.

Found you.

It took you less than a minute to race to where he was, using the dark where you couldn't jump. Even from so high above, you could feel the heat of his flames.

So bright and beautiful in their destructive nature.

He could have been a hero to rival even Endeavour, so why had he turned out this way?

It shouldn't be something you cared to know, but you did. He was your mission, and you wanted to understand who he was, even if that information was useless to the Commission.

You returned to the ground, silent in your descent as the swoop of a bat. The smell of crisped flesh assaulted your senses, and you suppressed the urge to gag. With Dabi using his quirk, you couldn't get as close as you would have liked. His flame was so bright it burned away all darkness, and so left you nothing to use to gain any advantage on him, though you weren't looking for it now.

I need to be careful sneaking around him, you thought. A quirk like his isn't a good match for mine.

His attacks could reach longer ranges, where you needed to get close to use the element of surprise to your advantage. If he activated his fire while you were hiding close to him, it would reveal you in an instant. It made your mission all the more difficult, but there was little glory to be taken from something that was too easy.

"What did he do to piss you off so spectacularly?" You asked from a dozen paces behind him, regarding the sizzling corpse with indifference. To you, it looked like a low-level criminal, and not some innocent he plucked off the street.

Dabi spun around, tamping his flame. "Picked a fight with the wrong guy."

He wore a long, dark overcoat, sleeves cuffed at his elbows, the scarred skin of his forearms visible to you.

"I see." You stepped closer, ignoring the spike of cortisol in your system. "I didn't think you'd make this easy for me."

Dabi shrugged. "Something tells me you would have found me either way."

At least he's not stupid.

His turquoise eyes slid from your face down the length of your body, lingering on the knives strapped to your thighs before he met your gaze once more. There was the slightest of smirks curving his lips. He waved his hand, beckoning you to follow. "Come on then."

You'd expected him to question your motives, but perhaps he didn't care. You obeyed, falling into step with him as he opted to travel via the many connecting alleyways that veined through Tokyo.

Observant as you are, you didn't miss how he pocketed his right hand, but left his other free — the hand closest to you — so if you attacked him, he could activate his quirk and fry you in a moment.

Comforting.

He was cautious, more than you'd initially thought. It was difficult to discern who he was from a distance, and now with you so close it became apparent he would not be easy to fool. There was a keen intellect in him, a far cry from some of the others you'd tracked and killed in the past.

Wasted potential, you thought.

As it turned out, the League was making use of a derelict apartment building in the lesser-patrolled district of the city. The smell of damp and mould filled your nostrils as you entered through a half-broken door, following Dabi up a flight of stairs and along a corridor.

There were voices beyond the door he came to a stop at, and your heartbeat steadily increased as he turned the handle, leaving it wide open for you to follow.

The voices hushed as you entered, distrust evident with each piercing gaze that zeroed in on you.

"Nyx, is it?" Tomura Shigaraki asked, voice low and scratchy.

He looked exactly as you'd seen in pictures, covered in hands and menacing in all meanings of the word. Beside him, Toga sprawled out on a ruined armchair, her cat-like eyes gliding over you before focusing on your knives. She smiled.

"Yes," you said. "I came to ask if I could join you."

Shigaraki stood then, striding towards you with enough purpose that your toes curled inside your boots. The reptilian villain, Spinner, stood to the left of the couch previously occupied by Shigaraki, and beside him was who you recognised as Mr Compress. Twice, who's file had informed was capable of making doubles of himself and others, stood behind Toga, watching you curiously through the two-toned mask.

"She's pretty," said Twice, followed swiftly by, "she's ugly."

"Shut it, Twice," grumbled Shigaraki as he came to a halt in front of you.

You'd learned that Twice was unable to make more than a few doubles at a time, and he had trouble with making doubles of himself, afraid he'd lose his true self amongst them. His splintered personalities were a symptom of that fact.

Crimson eyes narrowed as they studied you. Shigaraki reached a hand out to grasp your throat with four of his fingers, and you balked, but didn't pull away. "And why should I let you in?"

You settled your eyes on him, taking in details others had only seen moments before they died, turned to nothing but dust from the inescapable destruction of his quirk. His skin was cracked and raw in places, severe enough that it must hurt him frequently. "I can be useful to you."

Dabi had moved around you to lean against the wall to your left. His azure eyes regarded the scene with nothing but apathy, but you knew he wouldn't have taken you here if he didn't think you were a worthy candidate. Otherwise, you'd likely be dead.

"Show me," demanded the leader of the League, his gravelly voice sending skitters of nervous energy through your body. He released his grip on your neck.

You'd expected this. Prepared yourself. Your quirk was useful. Villainous, even. The nature of your surroundings gave you the perfect opportunity to show off, and you intended to do just that.

Inhaling a calming breath, you took a step back from Shigaraki, towards the shadowy corners of the room and placed your hand towards the dark — a connection between you and the shadows — and then you vanished.

The entire scene lasted only a moment, and when you reappeared, you did so behind Dabi with a knife unsheathed. You dug the tip into his back, a little more force than necessary but not enough to harm him in any way. You'd positioned your blade in the perfect position to slide between his ribs, towards his heart.

It took Shigaraki a moment to realise where you were, a grunt of surprise from the patchwork villain drawing his attention towards you. Just as quickly, you sheathed your blade and stepped away from Dabi.

"My quirk allows me to become a part of shadow. I can travel within darkness and re-appear where I wish. Because I no longer have a corporeal form like that, I can pass through even a keyhole if its dark enough. I also have advanced physical capabilities, but nothing close to power-based quirks."

"I like her knives," Toga whispered, awe-filled eyes like saucers. "Can we keep her?"

"I do admit," Compress started, "it was a spectacular show."

You allowed yourself to smirk, revelling in the ego-boost. Even though your heart was thundering and your palms slick with sweat, you wouldn't falter. In the corner of your eye, you could see Dabi watching you, and as much as you itched to meet his curious gaze, you didn't.

"I have no love for this society," you said, your words carefully crafted and rehearsed. "My quirk and my nature have made me an outcast. I had no-one to save me but myself, and I had no intentions of relying on the people that call themselves heroes these days. I want to fight for a new world, one where I can be free to do as I please."

"A noble cause as any," said Compress, his tone theatrical. "What do you say Tomura?"

Shigaraki set his crimson eyes on Dabi. "She's your responsibility until I decide we can trust her."

"Noted," Dabi huffed, inconvenienced.

"Can we have her bring us some food if we can't go outside?" Toga asked. "I'm starving, everything we eat is gross!"

"We can have sushi again," Twice added. "I hate the smell of fish."

"I can bring supplies by tomorrow," You offered, meeting Shigaraki's eyes once again. "Food, clothes, whatever."

He scratched his chin. "Fine."

Toga hopped from her chair, bounding towards you like a doe. "I can text you what we need if you give me your number." She held out her phone.

"Sure," you said, tapping your digits in before handing it back. As excitable as the girl was, you expected more messages than just what she needed from you. "If that's everything you need right now, I'll leave."

Shigaraki made a grumble of acknowledgement and you decided it was a safe enough time to make your exit. Dabi didn't move, still regarding you with an expression you couldn't decipher.

He will be difficult to sway.

Toga was an easy in, and Twice, too, if you worked on him for awhile.

You had your work cut out for you, not that you minded. You'd play your part perfectly, until it was no longer time to play.

Chapter Text

You'd made progress in the days that followed — albeit at a much slower pace than you would like. Then again, trust wasn't something that came easily to villains. Nor was it something that came easy to you, really.

Toga had contacted you the morning after you left, sending a list of items the League needed. Most of which was food, basic hygiene necessities and a couple of items of clothing. Toga herself had requested a new pair of boots, which you picked up in a charity shop on your way back from the grocery store.

The first drop-off was swift, and you attempted to make some small-talk with Twice and Compress before you left, but not being too transparent with your want for them to accept you. Dabi hadn't so much as looked your direction, which made you want his attention all the more.

I'll wear you down, hotshot.

Three days later, Toga has messaged you again.

Toga 🔪🩸: Can you bring some more of those rice balls you brought last time? Spinner has been bugging me to ask you all dayyy!!!!

P.S  Dabi likes ramen, the spicy kind

Despite her occupation, it wasn't hard to see that Toga was a teenager at heart. She derived enjoyment from the kind of angsty drama that you wished your life had been frivolous enough to enjoy. And she was observant — enough that she'd noticed the passing glances you gave Dabi as you left their decrepit hideout. Was she trying to stir something? Regardless, you could play into her fantasy if it gave you an edge over any of them.

When you'd dropped off that bag of supplies, Toga took out each individual item, tossing it to whoever had requested it. She'd picked up the ramen, beaming. "Look Dabi! Nyx brought the flavour you like!"

That mere act had earned you a grunt of acknowledgment from the patchwork villain, but acknowledgement, nonetheless. Toga winked at you, mischief dancing in her feline eyes. After that, you included the ramen in each bag you dropped off.

It had been two weeks since you'd met the League for the first time. You'd been dropping off supplies at pretty regular intervals while trying to occupy yourself in your small apartment. It gave you time to binge a few shows, at least.

You had just left the shower when your phone pinged, lashes still damp and face flushed from the heat of the water. You picked up your phone.

Unknown: I need you to meet me tonight. It's Dabi. Toga gave me your number.

A skitter of excitement raised the hairs on your arms. Finally, you were getting somewhere.

You: Send me the details, I'll be there.

Within moments, Dabi had replied with an address — an abandoned underground parking lot not far from where they were hiding out.

The perfect place to commit a murder, you thought. Fantastic.

If he'd decided you weren't worth the hassle, you'd be crispier than a burnt chicken nugget straight out of the oven. You cringed at the thought as you dried your hair. It was unlikely he would kill you now, but you could never be too careful. Dabi was hard to read, and harder to gain the trust of then likely anyone in the League. He was the one you needed to convince more than anyone else, and you'd use every card in your deck to make that happen.

Even Shigaraki wasn't that cagey.

Tonight, you decided to strap your gun holster to your hip. Just incase.

It was already dark by the time you'd readied yourself, and instead of waiting around you made your way to the location Dabi had texted you.

As you entered, not bothering to conceal your presence, you noted the empty liquor bottles and cigarette butts littering the floor. Teenagers, most likely. Your footsteps echoed. After spending so many years perfecting your silence, you hated that sound. It put you on edge. Made you feel exposed and vulnerable.

Dabi stood, leaned against a concrete pillar, watching your approach. He was smoking, the scent of tobacco invading your senses as you stepped towards him. You didn't dislike the smell, but you didn't love it either. Regardless, there was something about the way he held it between his lips that was almost... alluring.

You had no intention of trying to convince yourself he wasn't at least a little attractive. Despite the staples and scars, there was a beauty to him. Warped by darkness, but beauty still. And the cobalt eyes that regarded you with such apathy were striking in all sense of the word.

"Should I be worried about your choice of venue?" You asked, a playful grin on your lips.

Dabi removed the cigarette from his mouth, tucking it between his middle and index finger. His somewhat icy gaze pinned you in place like a vice. "Are you?"

"No," you replied honestly. "If you wanted to kill me you'd have done it already."

The slightest of smirks curved his lips. "And you'd make it difficult for me if I tried."

You smiled truly then. "That I would." There was nothing and nobody around, and you were still questioning why you were here at all. "Care you explain what you want from me?"

"Just stand there and look pretty," Dabi said. "You'll understand soon enough."

A spark of heat ignited in your chest. Look pretty. You may have heroic tendencies, but you were just as easily flattered as any other girl. And it was an edge you could play into — at least that's what you told yourself.

You feigned shock. "Was that a compliment from the brooding villain?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Brooding?" 

You opened your mouth to tease him some more, but closed it when you heard the echo of footsteps behind you. Spinning around, you settled you eyes on the source, not bothering to hide the look of surprise that crossed your face.

Hawks.

The winged hero stopped half a dozen paces from you and Dabi, his pretty golden eyes mirroring the brief surprise you had at seeing him — for different reasons. As soon as the expression appeared, it was gone. Hawks schooled himself like the perfect double-agent he was.

You flitted your gaze to Dabi to find him watching you. It was then you realised the villain had brought you here to test you — to watch your face as you saw the number two hero, but also to make you understand that there was no hiding anymore. He was revealing you as an ally to him — as a villain. If he trusted Hawks was on his side, there would be no problem. If Hawks revealed himself as a double agent, then you were on their radar as an accessory to the League.

Of course, this was not an issue for you because you were also a double-agent, but it was a dirty tactic from Dabi — one that ensured you understood there was no turning back.

"I didn't think you'd have company," Hawks said, eyeing you with indifference.

You knew better than to trust the expression on his face. He was curious. Who were you, and why were you with Dabi? It was the first time Hawks had ever laid eyes on you, despite your similarities. He had no idea you were just like him.

"Nyx is a new member of the League," Dabi explained. "She'll be with me for the foreseeable."

You suppressed the urge to raise a brow. Will I?

Hawks returned his gaze to you then, allowing himself to linger, trailing down you, assessing who he saw as a new enemy. You expected Hawks to be aware of you at some point, but not quite so soon or so suddenly. Forced or no, you were finally making yourself known to the world. That was all you'd wanted for so long. Maybe you owed Dabi a thanks, though he'd expect the opposite.

"So, what is it you wanted to discuss?"

You kept your eyes on the winged hero, allowing yourself to take him in. From the tips of his feathered wings to the hint of toned muscle beneath the thick coat he wore. His gaze beneath his visor was cold and calculated, nothing less than you'd expect from a person who grew up like you did.

"Things are getting... complicated," Dabi said, pushing himself from the pillar to stand by your side. The scent of tobacco smoke lingered on him. "I won't be around as much for the next while, so it would be best if you avoid contact for now."

Won't be around? You didn't let Dabi's words surprise you, but it seemed the League was no longer intending to spend their days waiting around. A plan was in motion. A plan that you had no idea of.

"What do you want me to do?" Hawks asked, his voice low and steady.

"Sit tight," Dabi replied. "I'll be in contact soon. There's something I want you to do, but not quite yet."

You were intrigued by it all, but it was clear that Dabi trusted you little more than he trusted Hawks, otherwise you'd know exactly what was happening.

"Will you take me to Shigaraki then?" Hawks asked, impatience in his tone.

Dabi shrugged. "If I feel like it."

You suppressed a smirk. Dabi was infuriating, but Hawks was more than capable of dealing with him, and waiting was part of this little game you both found yourselves in. Whatever was happening, you needed to find out, and quickly.

"If that's all," Hawks started, "I have work to do."

Dabi waved a hand, dismissing him. "Enjoy being a hero."

Hawks didn't bother replying. Before he turned around, he took one last look at you, and you knew he'd be looking for information on who you were as soon as he returned to his agency. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn't find anything. You didn't exist, after all.

Dabi called Hawks here to tell him, well, nothing.  All because he could. If you were in Hawks' shoes, you'd be more than frustrated.

"You don't trust him," you stated as soon as Hawks had left earshot.

"Would you?"

It was a valid question. If you were in Dabi's shoes, you probably wouldn't. He'd need to do more than you would to gain admittance to the League.

"There is something about him though," you said. "Something different."

Dabi shrugged. "Maybe."

"So, is this what you brought me here for? Because I'm not afraid to show my intention to anyone — especially the number two hero."

"Not exactly," Dabi replied, settling those azure eyes back on you. "I'll explain, but I need a drink first."

He didn't turn back to see if you were following him as he slid back into the night, melding almost as well as you do with the shadows in his dark overcoat and trousers. You had no other option but to keep up with him, falling into step at his side.

You'd told Dabi that Hawks was somehow different — but so was he. The usual targets you were saddled with were, well, boring. They lacked the basic necessities of character that would set them apart from low-level thugs. Dabi, however, was calculated. Cunning. Cautious. There was nothing transparent about him — and you supposed that was why he'd survived so long. Understanding him was no longer a desire, but a need if you had any chance of standing against him.

Dabi led you down a flight of stairs towards a bolted door that was guarded by a heavy-set bouncer who must have had some kind of muscle-enhancing quirk by the looks of him. He didn't seem concerned by the weapons adorning your body. The patchwork villain didn't need to say anything, the bouncer merely dipped his head in acknowledgement and opened the door, letting you follow after your new... comrade.

This bar was far nicer than the one you'd tailed him to a couple weeks previous, and you found yourself pleasantly surprised by the dim, twinkling lights above your head. It was still dark, like all the seedy bars frequented by villains, but this one had a bit of character to it, likely due to the soft jazz music playing in the background.

"What do you drink?" Dabi asked, waving down the bartender.

"Gin," you replied, "with tonic."

He nodded, inclining his head towards one of the many booths that lined the walls of the bar. "Sit and I'll bring it down."

You nodded, sliding into the nearest free booth. There was something almost intimate about how it was laid out, like they were catering to every hushed, private conversation that kept the cogs of Tokyo's underground turning.

Dabi set your drink down in front of you before taking a seat across, placing his tumbler of honey-coloured liquid onto the wooden table.

"Thanks," you mumbled. It seemed strange for you to be doing something so... mundane with a member of the League. Hell, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been out for a proper drink, so it wasn't even mundane to you. You took a long sip, enjoying the bitterness on the tip of your tongue. "Hawks and the League, now that's something I didn't expect to see today."

Dabi shrugged. "Even heroes are growing tired of society."

You nodded, taking another drink. "So, are you going to explain to me why I'm here or are we going exchange sad backstories and bond over mutual trauma?"

The ghost of a smile that appeared on his lips was at least half genuine. "I don't do backstories."

You grinned. "Either do I."

Dabi's gaze was almost too intense for you at times, but backing down wasn't something you were fond of. "I want you do keep an eye on Hawks while we're gone. Let me know if you think he's genuine or not."

Interesting, you thought. And convenient.

"I can do that," you said, nonchalant.

"Good girl."

You almost choked on the sip of alcohol you'd taken, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. Heat was rapidly rising to your cheeks, though you prayed it wouldn't be visible in the dim light.

You gave him a saccharine smile. "Don't toy with me, Dabi. I bite."

He leaned back, swigging the last of his brandy in one go. The smirk playing on his lips was so infuriating you wanted to smother it. "Don't worry, princess, I like it rough."

You didn't want to back down, not until he was on his knees begging for a taste — but you couldn't. You had a job to do.

"Tell me where you're running off to," you questioned. "Or has all the ramen I've bought you done nothing to chip away at that icy exterior."

Dabi grinned. "Don't worry, I won't leave you behind. I'll be back to check on you, and once we're finished with this task, I'll let you join me — be my little eyes and ears. How does that sound?"

You pouted, moderately appeased. "I'll be patient."

He smirked. "That's a goo—"

"Don't," you interrupted, narrowing your eyes at him. "If you're fond of keeping your jewels attached, I wouldn't."

"Whatever you say, princess." He stood up, taking the two empty glasses with him. "Another drink?"

You nodded, enjoying the way the alcohol flushed your skin. "If you're buying."

Chapter Text

"Good girl."

The audacity of him to toy with you. To wind you up like you were his little plaything. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. You could destroy him if you wished it, have him begging for his life — begging you for release.

How dare he invade your dreams, leaving the lingering scent of sweet smoke, so infuriating you swore you smelled it when you woke. And the memory of your unconscious thoughts — the depravity they'd led you to — of cool metal scraping against your soft, peaked—

No.

You were frustrated. Dabi had challenged you in all ways, and your unyielding stubbornness didn't want to let you concede. He had started a game — one that you intended to win.

You didn't want him, not in that way. He was intriguing. Dark. Cunning. A severe kind of beauty that demanded acknowledgment, no matter how twisted it was. It wasn't part of your job to get involved in that way, though you were not a saint. If it would further your own end, you could dip your toe into that murky ambrosia.

No, I couldn't give him the satisfaction.

You would invade his dreams, too. And leave him pining for what would never happen in his waking hours.

A sigh blew from your lips. It had been days, but you were still reeling from his sheer arrogance. It would bring you the utmost satisfaction when you finally gained his trust, only to reveal yourself with a knife to his throat. There would be only one winner in this, and it would be you.

You packed away your frustration, intent on returning to the task at hand. Hawks was your new mission — though tailing him was redundant. You still did it, regardless, incase Dabi had someone watching you.

The winged hero had spent the last two days around his agency, leaving to go on patrol every so often. He always seemed to be in constant motion, though it was hard to tell what exactly he was doing. You learned that he lived in a penthouse apartment only a few minutes walk — or flight — from his agency headquarters, and he rarely liked to use the front door when he entered.

It wasn't easy to watch him — not when he spent much of the evenings flying about the city at speeds you had a hard time keeping up with — and kept his nights mainly to himself. For the daylight hours, you were forced to use old-fashioned methods of tracking him, unable to use your quirk to much efficiency.

You had to admit, Hawks was the perfect hero. Charismatic, alluring. Boyish in his endless charm. He commanded awe with the swoop of his beautiful crimson wings, and stole the hearts of many a person he met. But you knew all of that was a facade for the creature that lurked within him. You wondered did anyone truly know Hawks, or was he more like you than you'd initially realised — and the real Hawks existed only inside his head.

He was alone, almost as alone as you. His singular focus on the task before him left little room for anything else. You wanted to reveal yourself to him — to the world. The real you. Would he see that same darkness that lurked within him in your eyes?

You'd find out, most definitely. Sooner rather than later.

***

Two weeks passed since Dabi had asked you to tail Hawks. Two weeks of watching the pretty pro hero go about his days, never giving you a reason not to trust him, if you hadn't already known better.

Admittedly, you'd wished Dabi had contacted you already. He'd promised to return, though he had yet to show his face. You'd grown bored. The advantage of this mission over any other was that it gave you the opportunity to grow close to your targets. It was all an elaborate game and your words and actions were moves on a chess board leading your enemies into checkmate. You couldn't exactly do that if you were stuck on one singular mundane task.

So, in your frustration, you'd found ways to occupy yourself. Albeit rather invasive and unnecessary, but then again, you were given a task by the patchwork villain, and you intended to fulfil it to the best of your ability. Even if that included actual espionage against someone who was on your side, if only to sate your own curiosity about him.

You learned pretty quickly that Hawks didn't lock the windows of his apartment, probably for his own benefit. Who else would be able to enter through them with him at the top of an apartment block? Except you, of course.

The first time you gathered enough courage to sneak into his apartment, he was on patrol. After spending many years wondering what Hawks was like, there you were standing in the middle of his life, and it was exactly what you'd expect, but also the least of your imagination.

Hawks was neat. Everything was clean, stowed away in a designated place. Unsurprisingly, his collection of hair products was extensive, and not cheap either. But the part that you'd loved the most was the sheer size of his bed. It was enormous — double the size of even the largest standard size bed. Enough that if he lay with his wings sprawled out, it would fit all of him. And upon it was the most fluffed and soft pile of pillows and duvets.

A creature of comfort.

It humanised him a bit. Made him somewhat deeper than just the Commissions toy. Something you understood, as a weapon was not all that you were. Your thoughts of him had distracted you enough that you'd almost missed the sound of the window sliding open and soft feet planting on a wooden floor.

Shit.

Your heart had leapt into your throat, and your quirk activated without even a thought. His bedroom window was locked, and you had to unlatch it and slide it open just a smidge so you could slide out the gap in your shadows.

"Friday night," Hawks' voice had made you hesitate leaving. He was on the phone to someone. "I'm not going to back out," he laughed, genuine. "I'll be at the club at nine."

The club, you'd thought. Interesting.

Now that was something that could cure your boredom.

The club he mentioned was something you were aware of, though you'd never been. It was a place for pro-heroes, groupies and upper class members of society to let their hair down away from the prying eyes of the public. It was exclusive, of course. It would defeat the purpose of the place if anyone could gain admission. But sneaking into places you shouldn't be was a talent of yours.

Admittedly, once you'd gotten yourself to the alley out back of that notorious yet secret club, dressed in nothing but a skin-tight satin-black number, you were beginning to have second thoughts.

The dress was something you had, though you'd never worn it before. It was completely backless, with a lace-up design and a cowl neck that dipped just enough to give a hint of your cleavage. The rest of you, however, left little to the imagination, given how it clung to you like a second skin, even more so than your catsuit. You paired it with your signature black combat boots, a knife hidden in each. Just incase.

The club was a floor below ground, and the floor above was storage and staff areas. You used a poorly closed window as your point of entry, melding into the dark for as long as you could, which was pretty much until you heard the thumping beat of music and the chatter of dozens of voices calling for another drink. The staff collecting empty glasses used a door next to the bar, and once the coast was clear, you snuck in through it.

The place consisted of one expansive room, divided into sections where even more exclusive VIP people sat. There were booths for doing dark deeds, and two bars, one on each side of the room. The stage housed a DJ, and before it was a massive dance floor rammed with bodies sliding up against one another. The bitterness of alcohol clung in the air and the flashing lights made your snow-white hair glow like it was a light of its own.

You'd left your hair down but straightened it and tucked it behind your ears. As far as make-up went, you'd drawn on a pair of wings and painted your lips ruby-red.

"Gin and tonic," you called to the bartender, flashing her a smile.

You needed to blend, else you'd stick out like a sore thumb amongst all these heroes and elites. You paid for your drink and sipped at it through a straw as your eyes glided around the room looking for your entertainment.

You pouted. They forgot my lime.

Hawks lounged on a leather sofa in the VIP section, his golden hair cast in a dim glow, a lazy grin on his face as he chatted to a woman you'd seen on television and recognised as Ryuko Tatsuma, the dragon hero. There were other B-list heroes you recognised too, though you cared little for them.

You wondered would this be your life if you were a real pro-hero like them. Would it be some occasion of yours they were celebrating over a drink? You sighed, polishing off your drink before going to get another. Being alone had become so normal to you, you'd forgotten what it felt like to not be lonely.

The second drink you bought had lime, at least.

"Hey gorgeous, can I get you a drink?"

The honeyed words came from a dark-haired man where you stood by the bar. He was pretty, dressed in a crisp shirt with a watch on his wrist you knew cost a fortune. I suppose I can entertain this for a bit. "Tequila shot, I don't need the salt."

He nodded, pleased you accepted his advance and obviously intrigued by your confidence.

"Bottoms up," the man said, clinking his tiny shot glass against yours.

The liquid burned its way down your throat, and you had to stop yourself from cringing once it was down. By then, you were buzzed enough to accept it when your new friend asked you to dance.

"What's your name?"

You rolled your eyes. "No talking," you said, blinking up at him through thick lashes. "Just dancing."

He didn't seem to care once you began to sway your hips, fingers tangling with his as you lost yourself to the debauched rhythm.

At some point, Hawks had joined the mass of dancing bodies, lingering by the outskirts opposed from you in the centre. Around him, a dozen groupies vied for his attention, and the boyish smiles he gave them were the same practiced ones he gave to the public. It must be annoying always having to pretend. If you were in his shoes, you'd be far less nice.

Your boytoy for the moment had used your distraction to slink in closer, his fingers trailing from the underside of your breasts to your hips, dipping lower towards your plump—

If he dares...

Oh, but he was daring alright. Gross. Before his fingers could skim your ass, you'd moved faster than a flash of lightening, grabbing a tiny dagger from your boot and you pressed it to his throat. "Did I say you could touch?"

You prayed the lack of good lighting was enough to disguise you.

"You crazy bit—"

You nicked his skin with your blade, and his eyes flashed with fear. "Run along now," you ordered. "Don't let me see you again."

The man only nodded, disappearing from your view as you blew a kiss at his retreating form. Ugh, pathetic. You put your tiny knife back in your boot in a motion you disguised as fixing your laces and returned to your swaying motions as you scanned the floor for Hawks. In your distraction, he'd moved elsewhere and you lost him.

"I guess I'll get another drink," you muttered to yourself, turning towards the bar.

It was then you felt something sharp press against your ribs, and in the corner of your eye was a shade of crimson you were very familiar with.

"What are you doing here?" Hawks' voice was low. Threatening. He'd leaned in close, his warm breath fanning against your ear.

Your heart slammed against your ribcage. Nerves on fire.

You never let your guard down, do you? 

Slowly, you turned around, the feather he intended to use against you as a weapon had lost its rigidity, and now it tickled the underside of your breasts softly. "There's no need for that," you said, looping your arms around his neck. "Let's not cause a scene."

Hawks had gone stiff as you'd pressed yourself closer to him, but once the initial shock wore off, he relaxed, his golden eyes alight as he peered down at you. He trailed his fingertips up your arms, letting himself sway to the music, pretending you were not his enemy — or so he thought.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but his touch felt electric against your bare skin, and when he leaned in close to you, the subtle scent of his cologne sent your senses into a spiral. The closeness of him had your heart jackhammering, though you refused to let it show. "Did Dabi send you here to seduce me?" Hawks asked, his hands finding a place to rest on your hips, his thumbs drawing little circles over the fabric of your dress. "I didn't think he'd resort to those kinds of tactics to ensure my loyalty."

You smiled up at him through your lashes.  "Are you admitting you find me seductive?"

Hawks laughed, the sound reverberating through you. "I'm not blind, dove."

Heat flashed through your body. He was so close you almost leaned in for a taste. Almost. Though the alcohol you'd consumed was not enough for you to lose all sense of self-restraint. Yet.

"He didn't send me here to seduce you." Your hips swayed softly to the beat of the music, your arms still looped around his neck. "He wanted me to watch you and gather my own opinion of you."

Hawks smirked. "And what is your opinion?"

A small smile curved your lips. "Now it would be no fun if I told you, would it?"

The feel of Hawks' thumbs circling your almost-bare skin was sending you into a spiral. You wanted to know what those fingers would feel like against your naked skin, and the lust-filled grin he pinned you with promised just that and more. So much more.

But you were not stupid. Hawks was trying to seduce you. And it would work, if you didn't know better.

You let your arms fall from around his neck, skimming over his muscled shoulders to the hard planes of his stomach. Perfection. "I'm not one of your fangirls, Hawks." You whispered, your eyes filled with mischief and mirth. "It's not that easy to play with me."

"We'll see about that." Hawks spun you around, pressing you tight against him, his fingers skimming over your hips as he swayed along with you. "I doubt Dabi will be happy you revealed yourself to me."

Somehow, not being able to see him as he spoke made every little brush of his body against yours even more intense. He was seduction incarnate, and he knew it.

You shrugged. "He never told me you couldn't see me, and it's no secret he doesn't trust you yet. Maybe I just wanted to see who I'll be working with from now on."

Hawks grazed the shell of your ear with his lips, his wings curving around you like a shield between you and everyone else. "It's okay, I won't tell."

You grinned. "How generous of you."

His fingertips trailed along the sides of your ribcage, lighting little fires under your skin. "Who are you, dove?"

Who am I? It would be so easy to reveal the truth to him. To tell him you were on the same mission as he, created by the same people for the same purpose, but you didn't. Whenever the time came for Hawks to know you — truly know you. It would be the right time. Not because the Commission would say so, but because despite how badly you wanted to be part of his world, you weren't ready. Not just yet.

"As much as I've enjoyed your company," you said, detaching yourself from the winged hero, despite how badly you wanted to sink into his touch forever. "I think it's time I leave you."

Gone was the flirtation of the moments before. Hawks looked at you now in a way you couldn't decipher, no matter how badly you wanted to. He let you step away from him. "I imagine I'll see you soon."

You offered a small smile. "Maybe."

"Goodnight."

You slinked back into the crowd, ready to leave before you betrayed yourself. Hawks was good, too good at what he does, and you were too smart to think his attention was anything but tactical. He'd know soon you were on his side, but until then you'd need to be careful, else you'd reveal both of you to the League.

You wondered, albeit foolishly, if you'd ever hear him call you dove again.

Chapter Text

By the time you made it home, it was after midnight. Your conversation with Hawks had sent you on edge, and the extra shot of tequila you took on your way back from the club did little to purge the memory of his fingers trailing your body — and the promise in his eyes that he would continue.

It was all an act, of course. He was playing, just like you were with him. Yet he was so good at it. So... infuriating you wanted to seduce him, mind and body, and leave him wanting while you knew he was putty in your hands.

What is it with these men?

Between Hawks and Dabi, you had your work cut out for you. It didn't help how you were feeling that you were still so frustrated over how Dabi had acted with you. The sheer entitlement and arrogance of him. And now Hawks was toying with you. It was all too much.

You sighed as you closed your apartment door behind you, leaning against the cool wood, still buzzed from the alcohol and too focused on the way everything felt against your skin. You needed to get out of these clothes and forget—

"What has you all hot and bothered?"

You almost leapt out of your skin. "Dabi."

In your frustration, you hadn't bothered to do so much as look forward. If you had, you would have seen Dabi lounging on your sofa. "What are you doing here? Scratch that, how do you know where I live?"

Dabi smirked, more infuriating than ever before. He was sprawled out on your couch, his long coat discarded on the nearby armchair. The white t-shirt he wore clung to him, riding up slightly between his low, black trousers, giving you a more than ample view of the muscled 'V' disappearing beneath his waistband. You averted your eyes, though he definitely caught you looking. "You're not the only one who can follow someone — and I told you I'd come check on you."

He stood up then, striding towards you with enough purpose to send your body rigid. He stopped short of you, his cerulean gaze travelling down the length of you, taking in each detail with little regard for keeping his intentions hidden. He lingered on your long, bare legs, a smirk coiling on his lips. "You never answered me. What has you so... frustrated?"

Your cheeks flushed red at the heat of his gaze, the alcohol in your system betraying you. "Nothing."

"If you're not going to tell me," Dabi said, "then where have you been all night?"

You sighed. "A club for pro-heroes and elites. I was doing as you asked — watching Hawks."

You wanted to step past him, put a bit of distance between you, but you couldn't find the strength to do so. Not with your legs like jelly.

"Is that what has you all flushed, then?" Dabi asked, eyes alight. "Hawks?"

If only it was that simple.

"Why?" You flashed him a saccharine smile. "Would you be jealous if it was?"

Perhaps challenging him wasn't the best idea when he was standing in your living room, and you'd had a bit to drink, but you couldn't help yourself.

Dabi took a step forward, forcing you to press yourself back against the door. His hands were pressed against the painted wood either side of your shoulders, and he was so close you could almost taste him. "If you were going to get all dressed up, I'd rather it be for me."

Your heart felt like a firing machine gun inside your chest. He was too close and you were too frustrated to not become putty in his scarred hands.

"You know," Dabi said as you inhaled a stabilising breath through your nose. He lifted a hand, trailing his index finger along the side of your red-hot cheek, down beneath your jaw, to the base of your neck where your collarbone began to protrude. "I rather like how you look all flushed and frustrated."

His touch was like fire down your skin, and you were all but begging to be burned.

"I'll release you," Dabi whispered against your lips, tilting your chin up with his index finger so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. "If you beg me."

It was as if someone dumped a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Whatever misguided attraction you felt in those moments washed away and you were pissed that you'd allowed him to have any kind of power over you.

You pushed him back with one hand, getting up on your tippy toes so you could face him head-on, lip curled into a sneer. "I'd rather stick needles in my eyes."

Dabi stepped back, raising his hands in surrender. The smirk playing on his lips was downright manic. "You look even prettier when you're angry."

God, I wish I could kick him in the teeth.

"Don't test me, Dabi." You were seething. "I will kill you."

Dabi laughed, and it was the first time you heard the sound. It startled you for a moment, but you pressed your lips into a thin line, ignoring the strange feeling that passed over you, in exchange for your anger.

"Don't tease me, princess." He was grinning as he sat back down, spreading out on your couch. "I did come here for a reason, so have you found anything on him?"

Him. He didn't even want to say his name. Maybe there was the slightest hint of jealousy under all that bravado.

"Nothing." You shook your head. "I couldn't see or find anything that makes it seem like he isn't being genuine."

He tapped a finger on his chin, humming in acknowledgement. "And what do you think?"

You shrugged. "Hawks is smart, if he wanted to hide his intentions I believe I'd have a hard time finding out the truth. But aside from that, he's different than other heroes."

Dabi didn't question why you thought Hawks was different, and maybe that was because he knew it, too. He was more observant than you'd initially given him credit for, and you weren't going to make that mistake again.

"There's something I need your help with tomorrow," Dabi said after a moment of silence. "You know what a Nomu is, right?"

Fuck.

"I'm aware, yes."

You were more than aware of the inhuman creatures with multiple quirks created to destroy.  During the attack on the USJ, one had even come close to defeating All Might before the Kamino incident had taken him down, along with All For One. Whatever Dabi was planning, it was bad.

"I've been asked to test out a High-End, and I'm planning on a spectacle."

Your nerves were alight, and you could hear your heartbeat pounding inside your head. But never once did you falter. Never did you let it show that his words fazed you in the slightest. That's what Dabi wanted, another gauge of your commitment, but also your lust for chaos and the destruction of hero society.

"What do you need me to do?"

Dabi threw his arms over the back of your sofa. "I need to know where Hawks will be. The number two hero is pretty good test for a new Nomu, don't you think?"

You cocked a brow. "I thought Hawks was an ally now?"

Dabi shrugged, unconcerned. "He knows something is going down soon, he just doesn't know what."

"I see now," you said, taking a seat on the arm of the couch Dabi was occupying. "You want to put him on the spot and see how he reacts, right?"

Dabi's eyes glided over your exposed thighs. "Something like that."

"Alright." You blew out a breath. "I'll keep tabs on Hawks tomorrow."

The villain grinned. "So obedient."

You soured. "Don't mistake my interest in this cause for obedience. Like I said. Needles. Eyes."

Dabi ignored your bite back and stood to reach for his coat, tucking it against his side. "Once this is done, I'm taking you with me. Okay?"

You nodded.

"Cya later, princess."

Before you could utter a reply, Dabi disappeared in a mass of black liquid.

Warp gate. But how? Kurogiri had been arrested. Ah, I see now. There was much more to this than it seemed. Nomu could have multiple quirks, and it was pretty reasonable that one had the ability to warp people to and from locations. There was no more sitting around for the League. They were making moves, and you were one step closer to positioning yourself among their ranks for real.

The only issue was Hawks. A High-End Nomu? If it was any stronger than the others seen before, there was a good chance that Hawks wasn't walking out of that fight without grave injuries at the least.

Shit, you thought. What do I do?

It would be easy to do nothing and hope that Hawks was capable of dealing with the creature, but that didn't feel right to you. Despite being undercover you were still a hero. You still wanted to protect. Right?

I'll warn him. Somehow.

***

You hadn't slept a wink, not with your mind a muddle of emotion and thought. On one hand, Dabi was beginning to trust you, and your mission would be a success if he continued to do so. But you knew things now... things that could save lives, or take them away if you chose to ignore it. Was risking your position in the League worth those lives?

Short answer was yes. Of course.

Long answer was where it began to break down. Finally, you were beginning to understand why you were created in the shadow. There would be many more moments like these, where individual morals fell to the greater good. You were supposed to be a machine without a heart... someone who followed orders and shut off what remained of their humanity. A soldier. Not a person.

You could warn Hawks and still keep your cover this time, you were sure of that. But what would happen if you weren't able to? What would happen when your mission crossed your morals? What sins would the Commission have you commit down the line?

None of that matters now.

You'd dressed yourself casually as you tailed Hawks, with only the knives concealed in your boots. During the day, you couldn't draw too much attention to yourself — not while you had little use of your quirk to fall back on.

Hawks strolled lazily down a street in Fukuoka with Endeavor by his side chatting idly with the stoic number one hero. You didn't expect to see Hawks with the flame hero, but it was a welcome sight given how powerful the latter was. However, it made your wish to warn Hawks about the impending danger even more difficult.

You: He's with Endeavor.

You doubted the knowledge that the number one hero was around would dissuade Dabi from launching the attack, but you hoped it would make him pause anyway.

Dabi: Naughty boy.

A small grin found its way onto your lips at the thought of Dabi calling Hawks naughty to his face — something that would most definitely never happen.

The two heroes turned into a building housing a rather upscale restaurant called Yoritomi, and once a few minutes had passed, you followed them in.

Of course they like it fancy, you thought. And this is definitely not a good place for a Nomu to attack.

You pushed your large, black-rimmed sunglasses to the top of your head and smiled at the hostess. "Can I have a table for one, please?"

A quick survey of the room had you noting the location of Endeavor and Hawks where they were seated by the window. Hawks was leaned slightly forward, engaging in most of the talking while Endeavor listened — reluctantly — from what you could tell. His pretty crimson wings draped over the back of his chair, and you could tell despite his relaxed nature, he was always ready to move at a moments notice.

"Can I get you something to drink?" A waiter asked while you pretended to peruse the menu.

"Right, yes," you smiled sweetly at him. "A glass of house white wine will do."

You had no intention of drinking it, not with your stomach in knots only exacerbated by your inebriation from the night before. Despite watching Hawks drink, he seemed awfully put-together today. It was hard to believe that just over half a day previously, you'd been pressed up against him in a dim nightclub while he tried to seduce information out of you.

I can't say my life is boring.

"Here's your drink," the handsome waiter had returned, a glass of white in hand. "Would you like to order your food."

"You know what! I'm not just ready," you said, a smile sweeter than honey on your lips. "I got a bit distracted by the fact that the two top heroes are here, and together."

The waiter ran a hand through his chestnut brown hair, smiling politely at you. "We get pro-heroes here all the time, but it doesn't ever get old."

"Do you think you could give Hawks something for me?" You did your best attempt at batting your eyelashes. "I don't want to bother him, but I'd be so grateful if you could pass him a note for me. Just a compliment to what a great hero he is."

"Uh, of course!" The tips of the waiters ears pinked. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind when it's coming from someone as pretty as you."

You feigned a blush. "You're too kind! Can I borrow a pen?"

The waiter nodded furiously, handing you his pen and even a piece of paper from his notepad, which you accepted gratefully. Your phone buzzed as you scribbled a note to Hawks, lighting the screen with a message from your favourite villain.

Dabi: Where are they?

You folded up the note and handed it to the waiter who most definitely thought you were attempting to give Hawks your number.

As if.

You fired a message in reply to Dabi.

You: Yoritomi restaurant.

The young waiter was crossing the floor, his attention set on Hawks, your little slip of paper between his fingers.

Time to disappear.

It wasn't time for Hawks to see you yet. You hoped the words Nomu and Now were adequate enough to get your point across to him. Your phone buzzed again, and your heart leapt at the vibration.

Dabi: Watch out.

You were already by the exit, hiding behind a family of four who'd just entered and were asking the hostess for a table. The waiter passed the note to Hawks, who accepted it with a smile, having likely gotten plenty of these in the past. He opened it, his head whipping around to where the waiter pointed — where you were previously sitting — confusion on his face when he couldn't find you, your lonely and full wine glass abandoned on the table.

He'd not find you, and his attention turned back to the contents of the note, his perfect brows bunched up while his eyes searched beyond the window he was sitting at.

The timing was impeccable.

"Get down!" Hawks bellowed, right as the High-End Nomu crashed through the glass window.

Chapter Text

Shards of glass flew likes knives through the air, and you jumped ahead of the family before you, shielding them as Endeavor catapulted outside with the Nomu.

Their reaction times were impeccable, and despite knowing what was coming, you'd barely had a chance to hear the Nomu's monstrous voice calling for the strongest hero before Endeavor had acted.

People were screaming, scrambling over each other to get to the exit and you had no choice but to let yourself be carried along with the crowd to the outside. You couldn't help the heroes fight — and you doubted you'd be useful to them if you tried.

Hawks was flying overhead, shouting at Endeavor who'd been smashed into a building by the monstrosity that Dabi had send after them. There were heroes rushing to the scene, but they were useless against something like that. This Nomu was different. It was intelligent. No wonder Dabi had referred to it as High-End.

You watched the boom of explosions as Endeavor was slammed through glass and concrete, Hawks always nearby, his feathers evacuating whole buildings at a time.

He was a hero.

You could never be anything like him.

You were enraptured by the scene playing out before you, enthralled by the deadly dance the two heroes performed. Hawks had joined Endeavor, launching his feathered attacks towards the roaring creature. You ran through alleyways and leapt over abandoned vehicles, racing towards the fight because you needed to see what was happening.

Somewhere, Dabi was watching, just like you were.

It was happening too fast for you to keep up. Spiderwebbed flame had turned the top half of a building to complete rubble, and you marvelled at the sheer power it took to perform such an act. There was an enormous divide between quirks, and the place of number one hero belonged to someone who was gifted with one of the very best.

Seemingly annoyed by the interference of Hawks and the many heroes who rallied to their defence, the Nomu spawned more, less-sturdy versions of itself.

What is this monster?

If the League had means of creating more of these it could spell disaster for the entire city in the very near future.

Hawks was not far from where you were, slicing through the Nomu that had been spawned with his two feather-blades. Above you, the heat of Endeavor's flame was almost unbearable.

So, that's his ultimate move.

You'd lost sight of the number one hero, and you continued forward, finding a path through the masses of civilians running from the chaos that was happening all around them. There were the few thrill-seekers that remained, wanting a view of a fight that would likely go down in history.

"Endeavor is losing!"

It was a jarring sight to see someone so powerful get thrown like a rag-doll through entire buildings. If he was felled, who would be left? Who could possibly take his place and protect?

There was a helicopter whirring overhead, and the entire scene reminded you of Kamino. Despite how utterly pulverised he was, Endeavor didn't stop. He continued to barrel towards the Nomu — who was looking for another fight amongst the heroes evacuating the area.

A flash of crimson soared up towards the Nomu. Hawks. He had no chance of standing against a creature like that, but he didn't falter, not once. Not even as he was swatted away like a fly. You noticed the feathers that Hawks had given to the flame hero, propelling him towards the Nomu at a speed that was hard to track with human eyes.

The screech of Endeavor was heard clear as day overhead as he hurtled high into the sky, Hawks' feathers turning to ash the higher he went. You had to avert your eyes from the brightness of his fire as he turned the Nomu to ash, releasing the last of his energy in an attack that could only be described as plus ultra.

Even you had to admit, your heart had leapt into your throat as you watched the number one hero fall from the sky to the ground below.

There was a beat of silence in the moments it took for the ash to clear, as if the entire city had decided to hold a breath, waiting to see if they'd lost another number one. But Endeavor remained, one fist held towards the sky, a mirror of All Might in his final moments of heroism.

You pushed closer, dipping into a nearby alleyway shielded by rubble. Hawks was standing by Endeavor, a smile on his lips, though you didn't miss how strained it was. He'd lost a lot of feathers, and the size of his wings had diminished.

Expecting that to be the end of it, you were almost ready to disappear, but a spark of cobalt stopped you in your tracks. Dabi. The smile on his face was wide as he ignited his quirk, surrounding the two heroes in a wall of blue flame.

You couldn't hear what he was saying to them, so you attempt to move closer.

More flame, you thought. The air had grown significantly warmer since Endeavor began fighting. Watching Dabi with them was an odd sight to you. His quirk was so similar to Endeavor's yet he had become the opposite of everything the hero stood for. He could have been more than this. More than you could ever be. He had pure power while you were only good at hiding and killing.

Dabi's flame burned higher and hotter. He was using Endeavor's weakened state as an opportunity to take a stab at the hero, but before he could, the rabbit hero, Mirko, crashed down.

You recognised the signs of Dabi warping away in the moments that followed from when he did the same in your apartment.

"Just keep doing your thing and don't die on me!" Dabi's voice carried all the way to you, the sheer manic look in his eyes sent the hairs of your arms on edge. "Enji Todoroki!"

There was something about the way he said those words that was strange to you. Personal, even. Despite not having spent that long with Dabi, you'd noticed the way he looked when he'd left that burnt corpse in the alleyway the second time you met him, and his eyes showed nothing but boredom. Apathy.

He was facing against the number one hero, and there was nothing boring about that, but he'd called Endeavor by his true name. A mental tactic, perhaps? You didn't know, because Dabi was still a mystery to you.

But if there was anything you took from that encounter, it was that while screaming those words, Dabi had looked more alive than you'd ever seen him before.

***

The attack, dubbed Hood attack, was playing on a loop on your television. You watched both Hawks and Endeavor fight so valiantly until you got sick of it and switched it off.

Your mission was a success thus far, and you intended to keep it that way. Whatever happened while you cosied up to the League was no fault of your own, and whatever intel you managed to gather in the coming months would be worth it.

It has to be.

It had grown dark when Dabi texted you.

Dabi: Meet me at the same place as before.

You'd spared no time in shimmying into your catsuit, and sliding your knives into their holsters, as well as strapping your gun to your hip. Dabi had promised to take you with him, meaning that you'd given him enough cause to trust you and your intentions.

Less than thirty minutes later, you were walking into the same abandoned underground parking lot as before, only this time you could hear two sets of hushed voices, and you immediately recognised the second as Hawks.

The winged hero had a feather-blade held against the side of Dabi's neck, the latter utterly unfazed by the threat.

"You know I couldn't trust you right away," Dabi said, his eyes gliding past Hawks to where they settled on you. "It wasn't personal, I just expected you to be using me."

Hawks turned to follow Dabi's eyes to you, removing the feather from his neck. His gaze was hard, assessing. He was pissed off and guilty that Endeavor had been caught in the crossfire. He returned his attention to Dabi. "Same side or no, I'll kill you if you try something like that again."

Dabi raised his hands in mock surrender. "Even so, you sure acted like a real hero today."

"Did you expect me to blow my cover?" Hawks fired back. "I won't be half as much help to you if I'm not number two."

Dabi shrugged. "Fair enough, but I'm not taking you to the boss yet. I'll be in contact soon."

Vexed, Hawks' gaze hardened, though he didn't argue any further with the villain. As he turned to leave, Hawks looked at you. There was a question in his eyes, one you couldn't answer. He was smart, he could put two and two together. Someone had warned him about the Nomu attack, someone who was close to the League but not too close. It left a very small list of suspects, which you were the top of.

You offered him nothing but the slightest of smirks that could have been a reference to the night before, or the fact you were indeed a double-agent. You left him to figure out which.

"You really know how to make friends," you said once Hawks was out of ear-shot. "Can't say I didn't enjoy seeing him threaten you just a little bit."

Dabi smirked at you. "Still sour, are we?"

"Me? Holding a grudge? Never."

Though you weren't going to admit it, there was a part of you. A very deep, deep part of you that enjoyed the back-and-forth going on between you and Dabi.

"I have to say," you said. "It really was a spectacle."

"It would have been better if Endeavor wasn't there," Dabi grumbled. "But shit happens."

The villain plucked his phone from his pocket, thumbs typing quickly. He furrowed his brow when he focused on something, you noticed. And you'd also noticed that Dabi's focus was always singular. He was difficult to distract, wholly consumed by whatever he was doing, be it burning someone to a crisp or something as mundane as sending a text message.

His hair was always unkempt, but in a way that seemed purposeful. The longer you looked, you noticed how dark it was, almost too dark, but fitting for who he was.

The scarred, purple skin that covered much of his lower face and neck was the most prominent of his features, for obvious reasons. Had he lost control of his quirk? You doubted he'd be willing to tell you, but you were curious about them. He had piercings, too. On the cartilage of his ears and a trio on the right side of his nose, the same shade of silver as the staples holding his ruined skin to his pale, oddly unblemished, natural skin.

"Come 'ere," Dabi said once he was finished on his phone, extending a hand towards you.

You stepped towards him without question, sliding your fingers into his palm, feeling a brush of roughness and cool metal where you grazed over his scars. His skin was hot to the touch — warmer than the average person though you'd almost expected that, given the nature of his quirk.

He was looking down at you, his blue eyes shining before he — and you — were enveloped in black ichor.

It felt like you were drowning — and then it didn't.

You spluttered a cough, looking down at your catsuit, expecting to find yourself covered in gunk but there was nothing to be seen. "I could think of better ways to travel."

Dabi huffed a breath — one you assumed was supposed to be something like a small laugh, still eyeing you from where he stood at your side.

"Nyx!" A voice screeched. Toga. "I've missed you!"

Dabi let go of your hand, leaving you acutely aware of the knot you'd only realised had formed in the pit of your stomach the moment you touched him.

Toga catapulted herself into you, wrapping her arms around your frame in a very tight hug. You did your best to reciprocate while taking in your surroundings. "Where are we?"

"Toga, let the poor girl go."

Toga stuck her tongue out at Compress, but complied and let you free. "We're in the mountains!"

"Mountains?"

"Tomura is busy fighting a giant," Toga explained nonchalantly. "Twice and Spinner are watching over him. We found this cabin so we've been staying here for awhile."

A giant.

"The giant is an ally," Compress added. He wasn't wearing his mask, but the balaclava he wore showed only that his eyes were a pretty brown colour. "Not yet, but he will be. Shigaraki needs to prove himself as a capable leader before Gigantomachia will accept him."

You nodded, understanding. Sort of.

"Did you bring anything back, Dabi?" Toga whined. "I'm cold and hungry!"

Dabi eyed Toga. "I was a little busy today."

"If you'd told me we'd be coming to a place like this I'd at least have packed a coat," you sighed, casting Dabi some side-eye. "Or anything, really."

Compress grinned from where he was seated on a wooden dining chair, his feet up on a nearby coffee table. "You'd know you have no experience with ladies, Dabi. They only like surprises if you're taking them somewhere nice."

Toga snickered and Dabi raised a brow. "I'm surprised you have the time for women given how long you spend in front of a mirror."

"Presentation is key," Compress said, "something you surely lack."

Dabi's jaw ticked. "Do you want to get burnt?"

"Oh, come now." Compress waved a hand. "I'm only jesting. Being a little rough around the edges makes you endearing."

"Nyx can come shopping with me tomorrow!" Toga announced, drawing Dabi's attention away from Compress, which was probably a good idea given the former's mood. "We'll get some clothes and food and have some fun!"

You doubted Toga would take no as an answer. Besides, you needed to get a few changes of clothes, and something a little warmer.

Compress clapped enthusiastically. "What a fantastic idea!"

"That's fine with me."

Toga bounced around you. "I'll show you Gigantomachia tomorrow, too! Tomura's been fighting him for days now. He only sleeps when the giant sleeps, then they do it all over again."

You wondered what kind of creature would warrant this much effort, but it must be a sight to behold.

If you picked up anything from what Toga and Compress had explained, it was that Gigantomachia's acceptance of Shigaraki's strength had less to do with getting the giant on his side than him proving himself. The appearance of the giant, and the recurrence of the Nomu had you thinking that All For One, despite being locked away, still had a plan unfolding to the present day.

Whatever was about to happen, you needed to be right there with the League as it did.

Chapter Text

Toga had woken you up early. Well, it wasn't necessarily early, but you were enjoying a little lay in after the excitement of the past couple of days and the lack of sleep you'd gotten.

Understandably, she was excited at the prospect of shopping, which was also underlined by the presence of another woman. Something you could relate to.

The testosterone in here is stifling.

"Let's go!" Toga had all but dragged you from beneath the dusty blanket you slept in, still dressed in your catsuit.

At least I have my own room, you thought. The cabin wasn't large, but seeing as Shigaraki didn't seem to be coming back to sleep — and Dabi was wandering about doing whatever Dabi does — there was room for you.

The flame villain had lingered around the cabin for the night, and when Toga pulled you into the kitchen/living area, Dabi was laying across an entire three-seater sofa playing Candy Crush on his phone.

The hilarity of the sight hadn't been lost on you.

Given your lack of normal clothes, you'd taken to convincing him to warp you back to your apartment so you could pack a few things. At first, he'd declined, unbothered by your plight. But some not-so-subtly nagging from Toga and he had relented, taking you both back.

And that's how you had two of Japan's most wanted villains in your tiny, one-bed apartment.

"It's nice in here," Toga said. "Clean." She bounced around, opening cabinets and drawers, unconcerned with being polite about her snooping. You didn't care though, one thing you liked about Toga was that everything about her could be taken at face value. She didn't hide herself. "Where's your room?"

You pointed to one of only two doors, the other being the bathroom, and Toga opened the door, flopping down on your bed.

Dabi had trailed after both of you, deciding to stand against the doorframe, arms folded, looking more bored than seemed fair. But then again, you did notice his eyes flitting across the room ever-so-subtly taking in the sight of your bedroom. Did it fit how he saw you?

"You can have a look through my wardrobe and borrow anything you'd like," you said to Toga, enjoying how her feline eyes lit up at the prospect. "There should be a few things that fit you."

You pulled a duffle bag out from under your bed and began filling it with clothing necessities: jumpers, t-shirts, hoodies, leggings, jeans —anything you thought you'd need. Obviously, you took a wash-bag of makeup and skincare with you, too. A lady needs her luxuries.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Nyx?" Toga asked you after a few minutes of rummaging through various numbers of your drawers.

You were in the process of packing your favourite pairs of socks. There was something so lovely about socks. Simple, yet precious. There were few things better than a perfect pair of socks, and far too many people seemed to take that for granted.

"Uh... no," you replied, still focused on your sock collection.

"Then what are these for?"

Your head snapped up so fast you thought you'd crack your spine. Toga had found her way to your underwear drawer and managed to pick out a lacy red number you'd bought on a whim one time. The villain had a grin stretched across her lips, baring her almost too-sharp teeth.

"Toga," you barked, a flush staining your cheeks immediately. She giggled as you ripped the lace from her fingers and jammed it back in the drawer.

"Oh, come on!" Toga laughed. "It was funny!"

You chanced a glance at Dabi, who was doing nothing to hide the infuriating grin spread across his lips. "Don't you dare laugh."

The way he stood, lounging against the doorframe, delighting in your discomfort. Oh, you wanted nothing more than to shove your foot so far up his a—

Breathe, you coached. Let's not lose our temper this early in the day.

"Don't be embarrassed, princess," Dabi taunted, seemingly recognising the perfect moment to provoke you. "I wouldn't mind if you took that with you, put on a little s—"

The shoe had seemingly materialised in your hand, and you chucked it at his head with enough force to knock out an average person, if only it was a stiletto and not one half of a croc pair.

Regardless, Dabi dodged it with expert efficiency, which did little to quell the torrent of irritation and embarrassment in your chest.

Toga glanced between you, a wry smile on her lips. A smile that told you she had seen something interesting. A smile that told you she wasn't about to forget that interaction had taken place anytime soon.

"I am getting changed," you announced, wanting nothing more than to step out of the awkward situation you'd found yourself in.

You grabbed a change of clothes you'd left out of the duffle and strode past Dabi towards the bathroom, not even thinking about looking anywhere near him, and shut the bathroom door behind you with a slam.

What on earth have I gotten myself into?

That would be a good question for a normal person, but you'd grown used to dealing with the unexpected. Still, the tightness in your chest was genuine. You wanted them to like you more than you needed them to. And that was a problem.

The hoodie you picked out was baggy and oversized, just how you liked them. You went for a pair of black flared leggings, casual white trainers, and a sage-green beanie because it was getting colder as the winter months commenced. It took a moment for you to gather the courage to leave the safety of your bathroom, but you did, and attempted to help Toga find a bag for the things of yours she wanted to borrow while ignoring the obvious cerulean gaze staring into the back of your head as you did.

"Ready?" Dabi asked once he'd grown bored enough of standing around waiting for you both, and you nodded, duffle in hand and whatever cash was laying around in your pocket.

Dabi warped with you and Toga back to your cabin in the mountains, materialising you in the living area where Spinner and Twice were arguing about which flavour of ice-cream was the best.

You chucked your duffle at Dabi's chest, leaving him no other option but to catch it. "You can leave that in my room for me." Your smile was as sweet as honey and as thorny as a rose stem. "Toga and I have to go."

Dabi didn't argue, but the smirk that upturned his pretty lips promised you'd pay for it. Dearly.

Toga grasped your hand in hers, tugging you out the front door of the cabin before Dabi had a chance to change his mind and reduce you to a little pile of ash on the floor.

"I think he likes you."

You laughed. "I sincerely doubt that."

***

A consequence of Toga's incredibly bubbly personality was her inability to sit still for even a moment. She dragged you from shop to shop without caring whether your arm remained in its socket or not.

"I love this."

This was a coat. Long, pinkish-beige with a button-up design and thick, faux-fur lined interior. Like all things about the teenager, her decision to buy it was immediate and without much extra thought. You envied that about her. How she carried herself with a certain freedom you'd never encountered before. It made you want to relax.

"How did you end up with the League?" you found yourself asking as you left the shop, Toga wearing the new coat she bought.

"Well, first it was because of Stain-y, but I stay because I like it," Toga replied. "People have been trying to get me to act normal all my life. My parents, my teachers, everyone. But who are they to decide what normal is?"

It was quite the statement from someone so young, but you supposed you understood. The society you lived in was anything but normal.

"It's normal for me to love blood," Toga continued. "It's normal for me to want to be the people I love. I tried to be who they wanted me to be, but it was like trying to fit into clothes that are too small... eventually, I began to suffocate."

Was it wrong for you to empathise with her? She was born with a quirk that didn't quite fit into society — a quirk that couldn't be dressed up in flashy colours and paraded through the streets as a hero. If you had been raised differently, would you turn out any different?

"I am who I am," Toga said, noticing how deep in thought you'd fallen. "Just like you are, too."

For some reason, those words slammed right to the center of your chest. Could you be a hero? You'd spent your life hiding in the shadows, trying to fight your way to the light. But was the light really where you belonged? The Commission dressed you up and bolstered you with a hero's duty, but in reality, they used your nature to fulfill their darkest deeds. To infiltrate. To maim. To kill. You were no different then a villain, you were just pretending your actions were heroic.

Toga's fingers curled around yours. They were warm. Soft. Small. She was looking up at you with those big, round eyes and you couldn't help but smile at her. And it was the first genuine smile you'd given anyone in a long, long time.

You squeezed her hand. "Let's go get some food, we can cook something good tonight."

***

By the time you returned to the cabin, it was late in the afternoon. Toga carried one bag of groceries while you carried the other. You'd purchased a reduced-price platter of sushi for Twice and Spinner to pick at until dinner time, which Dabi had turned his nose up at, muttering about hating fish.

At that, you'd thrown a pack of the spiciest ramen you could find, hitting him square in the chest. At which, Toga had laughed.

"I'm surprised there's even electricity here," you said, opening the fridge and noting the light being on.

"The stove is gas, too," Spinner said. "It's connected outside but I don't know how much is left."

You shrugged, unconcerned. If push came to shove you could always find more.

"Seeing as we're having a proper dinner tonight," Toga said, lifting a bottle of brandy from her bag of groceries. A bottle you most definitely didn't pay for. She pointed it at Dabi. "You like this stuff, don't you?"

Dabi made a sound of somewhat approval, from what you could tell. You turned to Toga. "When exactly did you get the chance to steal that?"

She giggled, shrugging. "When you spent fifteen minutes trying to find the ramen that Dabi likes."

If looks could kill, Toga would have turned to stone and crumbled to nothing. "There were over fifty kinds," you protested, a blush staining the tips of your ears. "And you were no help."

You glanced at Dabi, though he seemed too concerned with typing on his phone to pay you any mind. You weren't sure if that was a relief, or if it pissed you off even more.

"We should go again soon," Toga grinned. "It was fun."

In all honesty, it was fun. More fun than you'd had doing something so mundane in a long time. Despite her state of constant excitement, Toga had been good company, and you didn't exactly have a lot of that in your life.

You began prepping the food a little after you finished putting away what you'd bought. Deciding on something simple, you'd chosen a curry, and began to chop up your meat and vegetables, and wash your rice. Curry was something you were fond of making for yourself on occasion, and you liked to leave it cooking for as long as possible so the flavours infused perfectly and the meat became impossibly tender.

You soon learned that Spinner was the kind who liked to linger around the kitchen, peering over your shoulder as you stirred your bubbling pot of goodness. Dabi hadn't moved from where he was lounging on the couch. Toga had disappeared into her room and Compress was absent with Shigaraki. Twice was, well, you had no idea where Twice was.

Gigantomachia still remained a figure of your imagination, though Toga was planning on bringing you to see him soon.

"How about you make yourself useful and go find everyone?" you said to Dabi, who cocked an eyebrow in response before muttering a no.

"I'll find Compress," Twice announced as he appeared back in the room. "No, I won't."

"Thank you," you said, with emphasis, casting daggers at Dabi. "I'm assuming Shigaraki won't be joining?"

"Probably not," Spinner said. "More for us, though."

You set the table, leaving everything in large bowls because presentation was not at the top of your list right now and you'd gotten considerably hungry in the time it took you to cook the meal.

Spinner helped get glasses and cutlery, and Compress entered, declaring with extravagance that he was famished. Once everyone arrived, you sat down on the opposite side of the table to Dabi, next to Compress.

Toga filled everyone a glass of brandy and took a seat opposite you. "None for you?" you asked and she shook her head, sticking out her tongue in disgust.

I suppose even underage villains are wary of alcohol. Though murder seems to be on the table...

There was barely a word spoken until the food had been scarfed down, and that was more than fine with you. The sweetness of the brandy paired well with the spice of the curry, and it became easier to drink the more you ate.

"Quite the meal," Compress said once he was finished. "Nothing less could be expected from a well-rounded lady like yourself."

"Um... thanks," you laughed, unsure whether Compress was attempting to compliment, flirt with, or insult you.

"Now who doesn't know how to speak to women," Dabi muttered, pouring himself another glass of alcohol.

Compress had taken off his mask, though he left the balaclava. He turned to you, taking your hand in his, brown eyes looking up at you through thick lashes. "My lady, the only thing more wonderful than this meal, is you."

He pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

Spinner spluttered a cough and Twice slammed his fork on the table he laughed so hard. A blush crept up your neck from the attention.

Compress turned to Dabi. "Better?"

"I think you need to slow down on the drink," Dabi retorted, glaring at the magician.

Toga leaned close to Twice and whispered in his ear.

"Dabi's jealous?" Twice exclaimed, and you suddenly felt the urge to clatter both him and Toga across the head with a serving spoon. "That would imply he has a heart."

The glare that Dabi cut Twice with was enough to raise the hairs on the back of your neck, and you wondered how Toga even had the courage to giggle next to him.

"Your eyes are a pretty colour," you smiled sweetly at Compress, deciding to take a long trek down the petty road. "It's a shame you hide them."

If you could see the entirety of Compress' face, you would imagine he was blushing. And you weren't lying either, you did find them pretty.

Spinner had inhaled a sharp breath, watching you flutter your eyelashes at the magician.

"This is boring," Dabi grumbled, kicking up from his seat. "I'm going out."

He stalked past you towards the door, slamming it behind him as he left. You reached across the table and grabbed his discarded tumbler of brandy. Waste not, want not. Only, the glass was oddly hot to the touch.

You glanced at the door Dabi had disappeared out of.

Oops.

Chapter Text

Light streamed in through the old-fashioned floral curtains in your temporary room. Light that was blocked by a shadow. A shadow that was in the shape of a man. A dark-haired, scarred, irritating man. Dabi was in your room.

Dabi was in your room.

Out of complete confusion, you'd pulled a knife from under your pillow and pointed it at him, which only earned a smirk. "You sleep with a knife under your pillow?"

"Well, good morning to you too!"

You sat up, grumbling incoherently about privacy and not sneaking up on a lady — especially one liable to stab before talk.

"Do you not trust us?" Dabi asked, and you weren't sure if the question was serious or not. And by us, you were sure he meant me.

"I don't trust anyone," you muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Don't take it personally."

Your answer seemed to amuse him in some way, given the slightest of grins that curved his pretty lips.

Dabi returned his gaze to the window briefly, as if enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face. Even you had to admit, he was darkly alluring cast in a morning glow, as strange as that sounded to you. The light made his scars seem dimmer, and his smooth skin brighter.

"What are you doing here?"

The villain had reached for the thin curtain, parting it with one long finger as he peered outside. At your question, he let it go and turned back to set his azure eyes on your sleep-addled form.

"You're coming with me today," he said. Well, said seemed too soft a descriptor. It seemed more like an order, without the bite of one. Nevertheless, it was your job to do as he wished, for now.

"And where would we be going?"

In some ways, he looked like an angel of death standing at the foot of your bed dressed in darkness. What scared you most was that you weren't sure if you liked it, or hated it.

"You wanted to see Gigantomachia, didn't you?" Dabi said and you nodded. Toga was supposed to bring you for the past couple of days, but you'd gotten distracted doing who knows what. It was actually the first time you'd seen Dabi since the dinner, given he'd disappeared for an entire day after. "And I have a few things to do in the city."

He didn't seem to want to elaborate on what those things were or why your presence was required, but you supposed it didn't matter.

"I'll get dressed then."

Dabi took your statement as a request for him to leave, though his internal debate on whether to attempt to piss you off and linger was apparent by the look on his face. Instead, he settled on, "I'll be waiting in the kitchen."

A moment passed, and you were sure he wasn't going to antagonise you.

"Hope that knife didn't give you a crick in your neck."

You rolled your eyes. "Very funny."

Dabi smirked, lingering with his hand on the doorframe. "You look cute with your hair like that. Less threatening."

If you had a shoe, you would have lobbed it at his head, but the closest was out of reach and he'd already disappeared out the door, shutting it softly behind him.

You scowled and patted down your apparent bedhead.

A day with this outrageous dickhead? Nothing better.

An hour later, you were standing on a hill overlooking a large clearing. Gigantomachia was indeed a giant, but given that was part of the name it wasn't a surprise. Still, how quirk genes had produced a monstrosity such as him was both fascinating and terrifying.

Shigaraki was battered and bruised, but he did not cease in his attacks at the enormous creature, and you couldn't help but cringe on his behalf every time he was pounded into the dirt. Compress was taking watch over his leader and doing very little to aid him, but it seemed like Shigaraki was intent on subduing the giant by himself, as unlikely as that was looking to you.

Dabi stood watch with you, hands dug into his pockets, purple forearms visible with his sleeves cuffed at his elbows. "How long has he been doing this?" you asked after a minute or two.

"A couple weeks," he replied, unconcerned.

How was the first thought that came to your mind, but looking at Shigaraki and you knew his resolve was absolute. It was terrifying.

"Why is he doing this?"

"Gigantomachia is loyal to All For One, and Shigaraki needs to prove he's strong enough for the giant to accept him as his new master," Dabi shrugged. "All of this matters very little to me."

You were almost startled by how freely he gave you that information, but like all things with Dabi, he was careful. Borderline paranoid — but careful. It could be that he was beginning to trust you, but you weren't so sure of that yet.

"Where to next?"

***

It was getting colder. An unfortunate, unchanging arc of nature that came about every single year, much to your dismay. Honestly, you didn't hate the cold once you were inside, tucked into a large hoodie and sweatpants and not standing atop a building in dimming light with the breeze cutting you like a knife.

Screw you, Dabi.

In all seriousness, you couldn't blame him for the changing seasons, though you felt like it. And he definitely deserved it. You blew out a sigh, rubbing your hands together to generate some warmth.

The day had passed far quicker than you thought it would, and all you'd done is follow Dabi around like a lost puppy while he dragged you from place to place, strategically leaving you out of important conversations with people he only described as brokers. And now you were watching over another deal from high above, shivering from the lack of insulation in your suit.

These ones don't like me, Dabi had said. I need you to watch my back.

Internally, you'd debated the pros and cons of watching Dabi's back versus burying a knife in it, Or better yet, watching someone else do it for you. But then you thought it was a bit harsh of you to wish death upon him when all he'd done is pissed you off a few times.

The thought occurred to you once again when you saw his left palm ignite in cobalt flame, but you decided to be nice.

Dabi's posture stiffened, and the three men standing opposite him had raised their guns in a matter of moments. As you slipped through the shadow, you wondered which would kill first: the flame or the bullets? Surely the bullets. If his flame was faster than a gunshot, you'd be seriously impressed.

Focus, Nyx.

Right, you were supposed to be helping him, something you could have focused better on if you weren't so damn cold.

Gun or knives? You pondered for a moment. Let's fight fire with fire.

The one in the middle looked the most leader-ish to you, so you set your sights on him, stepping out from the shadowy walls of the alley to press the cool metal barrel of your gun to the back of his head. "Tell them to put their weapons down."

You still found it a little satisfying when they trembled out of shock and fear. After all, you'd gotten pretty used to this kind of thing, and if you couldn't enjoy the simple things, what was it all for?

Dabi met your eyes, the corner of his lips curving as he drank you in. He mouthed two words to you, and you flipped him off with your free hand.

Good girl, my ass.

"Let's not get hasty," the man mumbled, motioning for his lackeys to drop their guns, which they did. "I... I'll get it for you."

"You have two days," Dabi returned. "After that, I'm going to get upset."

He nodded to you, and you removed your gun from the broker's head, stepping past him to stand by Dabi's side.

"Consider it done."

Dabi waved his hand dismissively. "Now scram. I'm sick of looking at you."

When the three men tucked tails and disappeared, you turned to Dabi, gun holstered and arms folded. "Does this mean I've saved your life?"

Dabi pointedly ignored your question. "I like that murderous glint in your eye when it's not directed at me."

"Murderous glint?" You echoed. "There was no such thing."

Dabi shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "Suit yourself." He eyed you from the side as you walked, watching you rub your hands up and down your arms. "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm fucking freezing, what do you think?"

He raised a brow. "You're extra sharp today."

"If I'm cold, hungry, or tired, this is the best you're going to get."

"That all?"

You scowled. "Just do your meetings indoors and we'll be fine."

"I don't really feel the cold," Dabi said, and you wondered if that was because of his scars. He took a right at the end of the alley which was connected to a narrow street you recognised from before. "We can take a break."

"I remember this place," you mumbled half to yourself as you followed him down a set of stairs, past the bouncer who didn't seem to care who was coming or going, and into the dimly lit bar he'd taken you after you'd met with him and Hawks the first time. Thankfully, the heating was on full blast inside.

"Brandy. Neat," Dabi said to the bartender. "Make that two."

You furrowed your brow. "I don't drink brandy."

"Drink it." Dabi passed you a glass once the bartender finished pouring. "At least then you won't be complaining about being cold."

You lifted the glass to your nose. In hindsight, sniffing it wasn't a great idea, given how your eyes were watering. Bottoms up. You nailed the brandy in one large gulp that burned its entire way down your throat. But like he said, you definitely weren't cold anymore.

You noted the ghost of a smile as he watched you, downing his without as much as a cringe. "Another two."

The seconds were being poured when you saw someone approach the bar from the corner of your eye. The newcomer feigned interest in ordering a drink, but you'd noticed how he was looking at Dabi on his approach. And it wasn't exactly friendly.

Two fresh drinks were placed before you, but Dabi wasn't paying attention to the bartender anymore. He was looking at you, noticing how you'd tensed up involuntarily.

Behind me.

Another had crept up to the bar beside you this time, sliding his left hand onto the polished wood. Your right hand twitched towards the knife strapped to your thigh.

"Oi," the dark-haired one next to Dabi spoke, sliding closer to him. "You were here a few weeks ago, weren't you? Know anything about a friend of mine that was killed? He ended up burnt to a crisp in an alley not far from here."

Well, shit.

You'd seen that corpse when you found Dabi before he brought you to the League. Burnt to a crisp was a nice way of putting it. Whoever he'd managed to piss off clearly knew who he was, and if that wasn't enough to dissuade them, nothing would.

"Are you accusing me of something?"

Dabi didn't bother look the man in the eye, instead, he lifted another glass of brandy to his lips, tilting his head back as he poured it down his throat.

"I know who you are," the man seethed. "Don't fuck with me."

The rumble of laughter that left the villain's lips did nothing to de-escalate the situation. Next to you, the other man reached slowly into his suit jacket towards what you assumed was a gun.

How many are there? You couldn't turn around and find out, but it was likely more than just those two. Great.

"Your friend picked a fight he couldn't win, I'd advise you not to do the same."

In your head, you were weighing up the chances that they were willing to start an all-out bloodbath in the middle of a bar. Given it was a less than reputable place, you weren't confident in leaving it up to chance.

Beside you, the second closed his hand around the handle of his weapon, flattening his other hand onto the countertop.

Don't do it.

He began to draw his gun, a movement that was painfully obvious to you.

Don't.

"You piece of shit—"

In the fraction of a second that passed once the insult landed, you'd drawn the knife at your side and brought it down through the free hand of the assailant to your left, pinning him to the countertop with a squelch of split skin and spray of blood.

A pained wail left his lips, giving you plenty of time to bring your knee up between his legs, leaving him to crumple to the floor, your knife dragging further through his ruined hand.

Behind you, Dabi had grabbed the other by his throat, blue flame igniting to melt through his trachea until his screams became garbled and bloody, and he dropped like a sack of old potatoes to the floor.

"Fuck," you cursed, launching yourself over the bar counter into cover as gunshots rattled through the room, smashing bottles of liquor on the shelves behind you, raining alcohol over your head.

The heat of Dabi's flame brushed over your skin as you pulled out your gun, pressing your back against the counter. You could hear the scramble of people rushing towards the exit, but their fearful screams were the least of your worries.

"Kill them," you heard someone shout as you crawled along the inside of the bar.

I could really do without this. You hovered your finger over the trigger. The wide-eyed bartender had crawled out the back-bar exit and you were almost tempted to follow him... but you couldn't leave Dabi behind. It wasn't even worth thinking about how easily you'd reacted as his ally yet.

I can't use my quirk with his flame, you thought. And flames and alcohol don't exactly mix well, either.

A burst of smoldering air and a flash of blue every few moments let you know he was still kicking, though he wasn't well suited to long-range attacks and you had no idea if he'd even attempted to cover himself from the gunfire.

Your hesitation wasn't about morals, really. These men weren't innocent. They were gangsters and murderers and you didn't care if they died or not. But you'd never killed without being ordered to. Every mark, every murder had been a job to you. A task. Was this the same? Was helping Dabi part of the bigger picture you were fighting for?

Perhaps.

But when you'd reacted so viciously and violently, you hadn't been thinking about your mission.

You pressed lightly against the trigger. Later. You could feel conflicted about your actions later, but right now you needed to get out. The mask of cool indifference slid into place and you launched yourself out of hiding like a jack-in-the-box.

One. Through the haze of smoke and flame, you found one of them, his gun pointed to where you'd initially disappeared behind the bar, waiting for you. His eyes found you almost immediately, a moment of hesitation flitting through them while he decided would it be better to take cover or move to shoot. Regardless, you were faster, and the fat, red bullet hole in his forehead was proof of that.

Stepping out of hiding, you could see Dabi in the corner of the room, half-crouched behind a fallen down table, azure fire engulfing the entire bottom half of the room. Two. One of them had his back turned to you, taking cover inside one of the booths lining the back wall. He was dead instantly.

The third had heard the gunshot and turned to see you approaching, you noted his mangled hand and knew you would finish off what you'd started only a few minutes ago. He'd attempted to shoot first, but his shaking hand made it impossible for him to hit you. Three.

Dabi had used their distraction to come out of hiding, surrounding the final unfortunate degenerate in cobalt flame that would suffocate him as well as melt the flesh from his bones. The sight was morbidly magnificent. It was destructive beauty and pure power. How could you not be awed by him?

The acrid smell of burnt flesh and wood assaulted your nose, and you coughed lightly as Dabi's flame disappeared.

"Are you hurt?" Dabi asked.

You shook your head. "Are you?"

"No," he said, though you could see smoke spilling out from between his stitches. "We should leave."

Dabi stepped over the bodies you'd left at his feet to get closer to you, and a torrent of emotion swelled inside your chest with every step he took. You'd killed, maimed, murdered countless times before. That is who you are. But you'd done that for the hero cause. For the greater good. This, no matter how hard your mind tried to dress it up as for the mission, it wasn't. There wasn't a single moment you'd thought about saving him to gain his trust — to further your end.

No, you killed for him because you wanted to.

Dabi stopped in front of you, his turquoise eyes searching your face. Did he sense your turbulence? In the haze of smoke and chaos, his expression looked almost soft, and it burned you more than his flame ever could. His hands twitched up, fingers reaching. Was he going to touch you? If you closed your eyes, you could imagine his long fingers trailing along your jaw, tilting your chin up to meet—

Stop it.

You stepped away, and he dropped his hands so quickly you could have imagined they'd never been there.

"I don't think we're going to be allowed in here anymore," you laughed, voice breathy. "Oh, well."

Dabi was watching you, his expression so devoid of anything at all, and your chest squeezed so painfully you thought it would choke you.

There were too many thoughts — too much emotion and you hated it. This wasn't you. This wasn't how you acted. But there was no pretty little box inside you that you could pack everything into. Not right now. So you chose to drown it instead.

If it cannot breathe, it cannot live.

You reached over the bar, feeling the villain's scalding gaze on you as your fingers closed around the bottle of brandy you'd been enjoying before all of this had happened. You plastered a smile onto your lips and plucked the cork from the bottle. "I guess they won't be needing this anymore."

The alcohol burned, but this pain was sweeter.

Chapter Text

The scent of smoke lingered on you long after you stepped into the cool night air. It was almost amusing that a quick drink had devolved into something so chaotic. You'd left behind bodies and a half-burnt bar and came out unscathed. Under different circumstances, it would be impressive.

The brandy stopped burning the more it went down, and you were beginning to understand why Dabi liked it so much. It was sweet and intoxicating and it made you feel weightless.

"Don't be greedy," Dabi wrapped his fingers around the neck of the bottle, prising it from your fingers. You relented.

"This wasn't really how I was expecting this evening to go," you said as he lifted the bottle to his lips, his throat bobbing as he swallowed — a motion you stopped yourself from watching for too long.

"And how did you expect it to go?"

There was a playful edge to his tone, one that you'd grown so used to. It was oddly comforting. You weren't about to start thinking he was taking your mind off things, that wasn't him. He wouldn't ask if you're okay, murder was part of the deal. And that situation was kill or be killed.

What he didn't know was that you cared little for the lives you took, but that you'd taken them for him without a single ounce of hesitation. Not a bad thing if you were actually part of the League. Still, he'd softened the sharp edges of himself, noting how you were acting differently for whatever reason.

"Hmm, I don't know." You tapped your chin. "Maybe a moonlit dinner, some stargazing. But of course, we'd pester Hawks for a bit. That's always important."

Dabi laughed, and the rumbling sound made your chest clench for reasons inexplicable to you. You motioned for the bottle, and he passed it back to you. "I don't think stargazing is my thing."

You rolled your eyes. "Really going for the brooding villain, huh? You know you can like cupcakes and murder, the two aren't mutually exclusive."

He cocked a brow. "Is that so?"

You nodded, a grin finding a permanent place on your lips. Maybe it was the brandy — oh, it most definitely was the brandy — but you were beginning to enjoy spending time with him. For whatever strange reason.

"I'm going home," you announced, taking another swig. "I have more of this." You shook the bottle. "And I have music. And I can even find a cupcake. You can go wherever you want."

Dabi took the bottle from you, amused. "And leave you wandering about with a bottle of liquor?"

"Well, currently you have the liquor." He ignored you, pouring more down his throat. "Chivalry doesn't fit you. Just admit you like spending time with me."

His lips quirked into a smirk. "And what if I say that I do?"

Your cheeks flamed immediately, and he laughed again. If you could bottle that sound, you would have.

"What was it you said before? Don't toy with me. I suppose I keep forgetting. There was also something about biting, but I guess that was an empty threat?"

"Don't sound so disappointed," you scowled, ripping the bottle from his fingers. "I also recall saying something about sticking needles in my eyes."

"A lie." Dabi's cerulean gaze floated over you ask you walked, side by side. "Admit that."

You bounced from one foot to the other, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "I'll admit to enjoying your presence... occasionally. Anything else will require more of this."

You shook the half-empty bottle in front of him, and he took it from you with a grin. "Is that a challenge?"

You shrugged, a saccharine smirk coiling your lips. "Maybe."

Dabi didn't respond then, but when you cast him a glance, he looked different to you than before. More... relaxed. Like he had let himself let go just enough to actually enjoy something. It made you feel many ways, one of which was guilty. Another was confused. So, you let yourself melt into his silence as you walked towards your apartment, passing the bottle between one another until it became just a dribble of honey brown.

By the time you reached your apartment, you felt like you were floating. All that emotion in your chest was still there, but you'd lost the ability to care. Much to Dabi's amusement, it had taken you two tries to get your key into the door.

It was just as you twisted the key in the lock that you'd had an epiphany.

"I have a question."

Dabi stepped past you, removing his coat. If you had sense, you wouldn't have let him catch you looking, but all of your so-called-sense had abandoned you the more alcohol you consumed. "And that is?"

"Is murder an aphrodisiac to you?"

"Do you want it to be?" He was laughing, and the blue of his eyes seemed so bright. "Or are you asking me if I enjoyed seeing you skewer that poor guy tonight?"

"I meant more in the general sense, being a big bad villain and all."

"There's a general sense for that?"

You were rifling through the cupboards above your small kitchen countertop, looking for means to continue your inebriation. "If not murder, arson is definitely your kink."

There hadn't been a sound in his approach — or maybe there was and you were too far gone to hear it. But you certainly felt his chest press against your back as he reached past you to pull a bottle of vodka from the cupboard. His breathy laugh tickled the skin of your neck, and you shuddered involuntarily. "Offering to light things on fire to test your theory?"

You had to ignore the urge to lean back against him. "As if I'd play into one of your kinks."

Dabi laughed again, taking a half step away from you to uncap the bottle and bring it to his lips. "I never admitted it was." He passed you the bottle.

"It so is."

You'd attempt to take a gulp without thought, but you cringed the moment it touched your tongue and spluttered once it finally went down. "Tastes like hell. How do you do that?"

He shrugged. "Practice."

You rolled your eyes. "Part of bad boy villain bootcamp to be able to drink neat alcohol without cringing?"

Dabi stepped past you to flop down on your sofa. "I won't even justify that with an answer." He took another swig. "You're very... energetic this evening."

"If you don't recall, we did just kill a mini-gang and burn a bar down — one I rather liked by the way."

"Fair point." He patted the spot next to him on your couch, and you flopped down onto the soft fabric — after a few seconds that seemed like enough hesitation, and not like you didn't want to obey his request immediately. "You shoot well."

You gathered that was supposed to be a compliment — at least a Dabi-style compliment. "You..." It took you a moment to find the words with your mind so warped. "You have pretty flames."

His chest rumbled again with that blend of laughter you were growing so fond of. "Pretty, huh?"

Somewhere in that exchange, Dabi had rested his arm over the back of the sofa, and you had only noticed now how close he was. You'd faced your whole body towards him, legs tucked underneath you. The arm curled almost around you was scarred and purple and you found yourself wondering if those scars covered all of him — and briefly, you let yourself imagine finding out.

"Beautiful, really." It was the alcohol. It loosened your tongue and ripped apart whatever gate you placed between your thoughts and your words. Maybe. Or maybe you wanted to stop lying to yourself for just a moment. "I've never seen a colour quite like it."

Dabi leaned a little closer to you, a grin playing on his lips. "Is this where you start admitting things?"

You shook your head softly. "Never."

His arm slid closer. "Good girl."

You wanted to chastise him for daring to utter those words to you again, but you couldn't. Instead, you drank them in like the poison they were, and savoured every little drop.

"I guess pretty flames have a price," you mumbled, trailing your index finger along his ruined forearm, noting every ridge and bump.

Dabi didn't stop you. No, he watched your face as you took in details you could only imagine before, his gaze heavy and unmoving. "I thought we don't do backstories."

You smiled. "We don't."

He smelled of sweet and smoke and it was intoxicating. More than any alcohol could possibly be. You needed to move away, but you found yourself rooted in place, pinned by those magnificent blue eyes a shade as beautiful as his fire.

The rapid thump of your heart was growing difficult to ignore, and your mind had stopped listening to reason. You wanted to feel his lips against yours — one smooth and one rough. You wanted to be burned and soothed and consumed by him and it terrified you just as much as it excited you. Why had he gotten beneath your skin? He was arrogant and obnoxious and he stood against everything you were. Yet there was something else. Something that continued to draw you further in.

A scarred arm slid closer, brushing ever-so-slightly against you as it curled almost possessively around your frame.

It would be easy to lean in then. It would be easy to give yourself over to him and be oh-so-beautifully destroyed. You wanted it. Your resolve was hanging by a thread and your entire body begged you to lean in and taste him.

You shifted. Maybe you were about to give in, but the sudden noise of your TV jolted you — and him — from whatever stupor you'd fallen into. You pulled the remote from under your ass which had clearly saved you from yourself and turned the volume down slightly. "I'll put something on."

It was ambient noise you wanted, anything that would distract you from hearing your heart beating through your ears. Dabi's eyes flicked from you to the TV and back to you, and he offered you the bottle of vodka once you'd chosen a random sitcom to fill the void. You accepted the alcohol, wanting to do something other than sit still for a moment.

You passed Dabi the bottle. "Do you ever just sit down and watch TV?"

"Rarely."

You were sitting properly now, and when you turned to address him, you were assaulted by that sweet, smoky scent that seemed to always linger on him. And the arm he'd draped behind you tickled your neck each time you leaned back.

"It's weird, isn't it?"

Dabi glanced sidelong at you, his lips curved slightly. "It is."

Somehow after that, you found yourself in comfortable silence. You noted the way his chest tensed when he was briefly amused by something, and how he'd relaxed into the strange peace you'd found in those moments. Somewhere along the line, you stopped drinking, and so did he. It was getting late and you were riding through the final waves of your inebriation.

When your eyes began to flutter closed, you fell in and out of consciousness. The arm that kept itself an inch away at all times had closed the gap, and Dabi's thumb brushed lightly over your upper arm. Maybe you were quite drunk, and maybe that was the perfect excuse, but you let yourself shift closer, tucking yourself in the perfect space beneath his arm.

It was innocent, but it wasn't. He was warm and as inviting as fire is on the coldest of winter nights. You weren't strong enough to resist, and it seemed he wasn't either.

"Still rather needles in your eyes?"

"Of course," you mumbled, half-asleep.

Dabi laughed lightly, and you felt the rumble of his chest beside you this time, and not just the sound. "What had you so spooked earlier?"

"Asking me questions when I'm drunk and sleepy — what an underhanded tactic."

His arm tightened around you, pressing you just a little bit closer. "I am a villain, remember?"

There was warmth under your cheek, and your eyes didn't obey you and open. Was it his chest? Had you gotten that close? Regardless, you allowed yourself to relax into it, just this once. "How could I ever forget?"

Dabi hummed, a sound that vibrated through you. He didn't ask again — didn't call out your blatant lies as you let yourself lean into him. Maybe he was lying to himself, too.

"I got scared," you mumbled, and you weren't sure if it was to yourself or to him. "I did it for you."

"Did what for me?"

Were you sleeping? Or was this real life? You couldn't feel your lips moving, but maybe your thoughts had become so loud you heard them in your ears, too. Was Dabi speaking, or were you imagining that as well?

"I don't know," you said, maybe. "But I'd do it again."

There was silence, but there was also a heartbeat, and you weren't sure if it was yours. But how could you hear it if it wasn't yours?

"Keep your secrets, princess."

Your heart fluttered. Princess. "If I'm a princess then what does that make you?"

Dabi laughed, a sound that was too perfect to be real. "Probably the evil king that kidnaps the princess."

You hummed in amusement, and if you were awake you'd be smiling, too. "You wouldn't have to kidnap me to make me stay."

Enveloped. That is how you felt.

"Is that so?"

You were so very tired. "Of course, but you'd definitely not be a king." Seconds bled into moments. Time wasn't linear, not right then. You could have been dreaming for hours, or merely seconds. Or you might not have been dreaming at all, but your eyes wouldn't open for you to find out. "You have pretty fire."

A breath of subtle laughter. "You said that already."

"I know," you mumbled, "but I think the rest of you is pretty, too. I didn't say that before."

"No, you didn't."

You were slipping further now. Further even than your dreams.

"I wanted to." Because it's true. "I'll tell you for real sometime."

"You already have, princess."

Dabi's words didn't register, because you were already gone. But if you'd lingered for just a moment longer, maybe he would have called you pretty, too.

Chapter Text

Waking up was never really that difficult for you. Obviously, you were fond of your bed like any normal person, but you disliked wasting precious sunlight laying about. But today — oh, today — you would have stayed buried beneath your blankets for as long as humanly possible to avoid the pure shame of your drunken words.

Blankets... I'm in my bed.

Yes, you were in your bed. And it took you a stupidly long time to realise that, along with the fact that you most certainly hadn't fallen asleep there. Which would mean that either you'd taken up sleepwalking — and you prayed it was that — or your villainous companion had done something chivalrous, and completely uncharacteristic. Two equally impossible answers, and with your head pounding the way it was, you couldn't spend too long dwelling on what the real answer was.

If the universe was kinder, you would have forgotten all that transpired and all you had said. But you didn't. You remembered it all. There was no easy way out. No alcohol-induced amnesia to save your ass. In fact, the events played like a high-definition movie-reel in your head the moment you regained consciousness. You'd all but admitted to Dabi that you jumped to fight for him because you wanted to. And that wasn't even the worst of it.

You wouldn't have to kidnap me to make me stay.

Oh, that one was your personal favourite. Suddenly, being decayed by Shigaraki seemed appealing. The number one on the list was followed swiftly by when you called him pretty. Big, bad, dangerous Dabi, and you'd called him pretty. And you totally meant it, too.

So, for a brief moment of pure self-pity, you stayed beneath your soft blankets and hoped the universe would rewind and set everything right. Of course, it didn't, but a girl could dream. After enough time had elapsed and enough courage had been mustered, you rolled yourself out of bed, head throbbing and stomach churning like a cement mixer.

This is usually the part where you would vow never to drink again, but that would be a blatant lie and you knew it. Some fleeting gladness could be taken by the fact you were still fully dressed in your catsuit, though that would also mean you were acknowledging something else could have happened in your drunken stupor. Admitting you actually wanted Dabi wasn't on today's bingo card, so you shoved that one down for later.

"Fuck," you cursed as you stumbled towards your bedroom door, dragging one lead-heavy foot in front of the other.

The mission objective was obtaining water and painkillers, and the major conflict was avoiding the scarred villain likely lurking around your apartment if he'd even stayed.

Unfortunately for you, today wasn't going to be easy. No, you were paying dearly for every little secret you'd uttered and the universe was laughing in your face. It took approximately one second after you stepped out of your bedroom to find Dabi. One second and your mind had completely emptied at the sight of him.

There he was, standing in your hallway in nothing but a grey towel hanging from low on his hips to his knees. If you had any sense of restraint you would have peeled your eyes off immediately, but you didn't. You couldn't. You wanted to drink in every little detail like it was the water you so desperately needed.

You were shameless in your exploration. The scarred throat that usually led beneath a t-shirt now showed you the expanse of his skin. Half ruined and half perfect. From the broadness of his chest to the lean abs protruding through scars, to the delicious sloping lines that cut beneath his towel like a road to a prize. He was beautiful in a way that was visceral, and you wanted so desperately to reach out and touch him. To run your fingers over his stapled skin and claim every little piece of him. And the shoulders, those were your weakness. Large, thick pads of muscle curving into perfectly defined biceps and his wide, expansive chest.

Dabi let you take it all in, the slightest of smirks on his lips. As if he needed any further inflation of his already impressive ego, but you'd given it to him, nonetheless. And when you finally met those cerulean eyes, you admitted it all, wordlessly. The damp sheen of his skin. The drops of water hanging from the tips of his dark hair. The pretty lips that curved at their edges. You were attracted to him so viciously and you hated it. You hated it so much you loved it and that made you hate it all the more.

"Good morning, princess."

As if last night wasn't already bad enough, now you were faced with this. "I—"

What could you even say?

"I—"

There was a cherry red blush creeping up your neck and if you didn't break this tension you found yourself in you may as well take flight out of the window at your earliest convenience. But then the sweetest of scents hit your nose, and you raised a brow.

"Did you use my strawberry shampoo?"

Dabi shrugged. "What else was I supposed to use?"

As if he smelled like fucking strawberries just to top it all off.

"It's nice," you said, amusement winding through your words. "Very conflicting smell for a big, bad villain, though."

Dabi stepped past you to grab the t-shirt he had so conveniently left behind in your living room. "Cupcakes and murder, remember? Not mutually exclusive."

"I did say that," you laughed softly. "Now put some clothes on, please."

"Why?" Dabi asked, smirking. "Is this distracting for you?"

You glared at him. "How did I end up in my bed last night?"

He raised his hands in surrender, walking backwards towards the bathroom. A miracle kept the towel in place. "Fair enough, I'll get dressed."

"Good."

When the bathroom door finally shut, you released a pent-up breath. If there was anything you could count on, it was the stubbornness that you and he seemed to share in common. Your mission for water and painkillers was still very much necessary, so you padded barefoot into the kitchen and rummaged through your drawers until you found what you were looking for, and poured yourself some water. By the time that was done, Dabi had returned, fully dressed, and you weren't sure if that was unfortunate or you were thankful of it.

"What time is it?"

"Half nine in the morning," Dabi replied, typing on his phone. His hair was still damp and unkempt from the shower and you had an overwhelming urge to run your fingers through it.

I am a pitiful excuse for a human being.

"It's still so early," you groaned, praying the painkillers would kick in enough for you to function with some degree of normality. "I'm going to shower, and then we can head back."

Dabi waved you off, clearly engrossed by whatever he was doing on his phone. You had two things in mind for that: either pestering Hawks or playing Candy Crush. Both equally viable, knowing him as you did now.

You grabbed a change of clothes from whatever was left in your closet after you and Toga had pilfered it, which was just a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. Your boots were in the living room somewhere, and you had no intention of putting them on your feet today, so you laid out crocs to complete your outfit. Normal shoes were only for days you didn't feel like a gremlin.

The catsuit you peeled off yourself stank of smoke and alcohol, so you tossed it in the washing machine for a quick cycle before you jumped in the shower. If anything could aid in putting you back together, it was a hot shower and some of that strawberry shampoo your villain companion had stolen.

By the time you were finished, dressed and ready, wet catsuit and boots in hand, an hour had already passed.

"Ready?" Dabi asked, eyeing you from where he was sprawled across your couch. You recalled last night, remembering how you'd pretty much used him as a human pillow. How you managed not to crawl into his lap is beyond you, but you thanked whatever god kept you from crossing what thin line remained between you and him.

"Ready."

Dabi typed a command on his phone, stepping up to take your hand as you both warped back to the cabin. When your feet felt firm again, you were standing in the living area, nauseous.

You cringed. "Remind me not to do that hungover ever again."

"Nyx! You're back!"

The screeching voice belonged to Toga, who was bouncing towards you with more energy than you were capable of withstanding at the current moment. She stopped short, eyeing Dabi's hand still wound around yours and tilted her head, a sly grin spreading across her face.

Dabi dropped your hand so quickly it almost startled you.

Toga closed the remaining gap, throwing her arms around you. "I missed you!"

"Where have you two been?" Twice asked, insinuation laced between his words. He was standing over the stove, a spatula in hand. "When you didn't come back Toga said—"

"We ran into some trouble," you interjected, not wanting the rest of whatever Toga said to be breathed aloud. "And then I had a little too much to drink — but we're back now."

"You look like shit," Twice replied. "No, she looks beautiful!"

"Gee, thanks Twice!" You ran a hand through your still-damp hair. "But to be fair I do feel like shit."

"We're making pancakes!" Toga announced, and Twice with a spatula suddenly made a lot more sense. "Do you want some? Compress went to get some toppings and Spinner is busy dealing with Tomura so there will be lots to go around!"

"I'll have some."

Something sweet and indulgent seemed right up your alley right then.

"What about you Dabi?"

The patchwork villain made a non-committal noise with a shrug that Toga seemed to take as a yes.

"Sit down and I'll bring them to you!"

You did as she commanded and plopped yourself down on the two-seater sofa, too lacking in energy to even think of doing anything else. Dabi found a place to stand leaning by the door, still engrossed in whatever he was doing on his phone.

When Toga had the first of many stacks ready, she brought a plate to you and handed another to Dabi. Compress had just returned, some chocolate spread, lemon, sugar and syrup in hand, leaving them down on the coffee table in front of you.

"I see our two rogues have returned," said the magician, smiling through his balaclava. You wondered if he ever took it off, even to go shopping. "Just in time for breakfast."

"Nyx is sick from too much alcohol!" Toga announced to Compress, and you inwardly cringed. "But I think a pancake will solve that."

Compress turned to Dabi. "So you took her out?"

The villain had stopped typing, eyeing Compress over the top of his phone. "And?"

"I'm fine, honestly!" You waved it off. "And we didn't go out, we just had an eventful evening and I needed to blow off some steam."

Dabi regarded the magician coolly, no longer interested in his phone.

"I see!" Compress clapped his hands. "I know what will fix you right up. Some cold orange juice perhaps?"

You smiled. "That would be lovely."

Compress headed towards the fridge, and you watched him pour you a glass. In the interim, Dabi had sat down next to you on the sofa, jolting you out of your little daydream watching Compress, all but forcing your attention back on him. You didn't expect him to stay so close to you. In fact, you thought he'd stay as far as humanly possible from you like he tended to do when you weren't on your own together.

"Eat," Dabi said. "Or it'll get cold."

You returned your gaze to the plate of pancakes on your lap. The tentative relationship you shared with him was becoming more solid, and it conflicted you more than anything else.

"One glass of orange juice for the lady," Compress said, handing it to you as you murmured your thanks, taking a long sip before you began to dress your pancakes.

You were always a syrup girl, while Dabi seemed to opt for drowning his in chocolate, which you could also get behind. You shoveled a forkful into your mouth, your stomach clenching with lack of food. "These are delicious!"

"It was all Twice," Toga said, pulling a chair from the dining table to join you. "He said he had a secret recipe."

"Toga!" Twice scolded. "Secret recipes are supposed to stay secret."

"Don't worry, Jin." Toga giggled. "I won't tell them!"

You couldn't help but smile at them. Despite the villainy, there was an innocence in both of them that was quite unique. There was no way you could call either of them evil, which made your job harder still. One day, you would betray them for your mission. On that day, your heart would tear into so many little pieces there would be no putting it back together.

"Weak stomach?"

Dabi's deep, rumbling voice grounded you back in the present. You were staring wordlessly at your plate, caught in your bleak daydream.

"Are you insinuating I can't handle a bit of drink?"

The corners of his mouth lifted so slightly. Stubborn to a fault, just like he was. Maybe that's why he poked you, knowing you'd return to your usual unyielding self. "I know better than that, princess."

The words were muttered low enough that only you could hear. You would never admit it — never in a million years — but you liked it when he called you princess. And right then, it seemed like a little secret that you shared. A deeper part of the fragile relationship you had with him that the rest of the League didn't see.

"Stomach is fine," you said. "Head feels like shit though." You paused to take a bite. "It's a shame we can't go back to that bar, I kind of liked it."

Dabi smirked. "So, you want to go out with me again?"

You scrunched your nose. "We didn't go out and you know it. You were just posturing for Compress."

"Posturing?" Dabi's grin was bright, then. "Why the fuck would I do that?"

"I don't know," you deadpanned. "You tell me."

Dabi narrowed his eyes. Of course, he wouldn't admit anything to you, especially not the hint of jealousy you picked up when Compress questioned him. No, if that was the truth then Dabi would die with it before telling you, just like you would in his situation. But you also weren't stupid, and neither was he.

Dabi eyed you for a long moment, his cerulean gaze flitting across your face before he decided on what he was going to say. When he found it, he smirked. "You have syrup on your chin."

You snapped your hand up, wiping away any evidence with a scowl. "You have chocolate on your staples."

And with that, the universe had balance.

Chapter Text

One would think that after being pummelled for days — if not weeks at this point — you would give up. Apparently, for Shigaraki, there was no conceding. Defeat, it seemed, was not an option. But nevertheless, you cringed every time you watched him get pounded into the dirt, wondering if this time he'd finally pack it in. He never did though.

From what information you'd gathered during your time out in the mountains, you learned Gigantomachia was loyal to All For One, and until Shigaraki was capable of proving his strength, the giant wouldn't accept him as his successor. For the good of the world, you hoped that Shigaraki never got that far.

Time was ticking by and you were gathering intel that would be crucial to the Commission putting an end to the League for good. It wouldn't be long until your presence is requested at headquarters. This role of yours wouldn't end soon, that was certain, but the deeper you delved, the harder it would be to pull yourself out unscathed, if that was even possible. Eventually, you would need to utilise your quirk for more precarious missions against the League. And against Dabi.

Your stomach flipped. Dabi. This mission could save the world, but it may very well destroy you by its end.

A guttural moan left Shigaraki's lips as he was smashed against a tree, his back cracking against the bark with enough force to snap a spine. But still, he continued, weathered and broken but unwilling to stop.

"Tomura looks tired," Toga commented from where she stood beside you, watching over her leader without much concern at all.

The way the League interacted with one another still confused you. There were familial bonds, but apathy also. They bickered like siblings, but when it came to the physical parts of being a villain, they never seemed concerned by the wellbeing of one another. At least, when it came to Shigaraki. Then again, maybe they knew better than to doubt each other. And if you weren't capable of defending yourself, maybe you had no place being a villain in their ranks in the first place.

"He does." You turned to Toga, eyes gliding over the large canisters and boxes of knives strapped to her thighs. Obviously, you didn't miss the sharp glint of her needles. "How does your quirk work, Toga?"

She flashed you a feline smile, which seemed all the more menacing with the grinning mask hanging from her neck. "All I need to do is drink a little blood and I can become whoever I want."

"That's what the needles are for?"

She nodded, and you had the sudden urge to shiver. In some ways, Toga was innocent as a child. In others, she was terrifying. "How about we use some time to train? I've been getting lazy out here."

Toga's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Does that mean if I cut you I can have your blood too?"

You side-eyed her, a challenge forming with the smirk on your lips. "That's if you can cut me."

"Let's see."

The moment that Toga placed some distance between you and whipped two knives from her stock of many, you knew she wasn't going to hold back. Not in the slightest. She bent down, shoulders squared, knees poised to take off as you shook out your joints, opting for a defensive stance.

Toga was skilled, you knew that. Just like you knew everything about her quirk, and the rest of the League's. Unlike some of them, you'd been trained since childhood. Sharpened like the edge of a blade to a killing point. And you had brought more death in your little years than some of the villains you had put down. For so long, it was all you knew. For the remainder of your life, it would stay that way until you finally drowned in all the blood you spilled.

"Ready?" Toga asked, a feral smile showing pointed teeth.

"Ready."

Like you expected, Toga charged at you, full sprint. The knives in her hands glinted with the wintery sunlight, and her boots dug up chunks of hard dirt each step she took. When she got close enough, she launched herself into a jump, the momentum carrying her towards you with frightening speed.

You dodged, spinning around on your heel to face her again. As a first move, hers was too offensive. It left her wide open in the eventuality she missed you, and you had the option to strike. At least that's what you thought would happen, but Toga had turned around and launched herself back at you, knives slicing through the air in front of you, and you utilised some actual effort to dodge and place a number of feet in distance between you.

She was fast. A prodigy of speed and brutal grace.

"Not bad." There was no chance you'd underestimate Toga given how quickly people were to do the same to you. "But a little sloppy." You reached towards the knives strapped to each thigh, drawing both long daggers in one fluid motion. They were your favourite weapons, forged in blood and sharpened by wrath. They had never failed you. "Try again."

The feline characteristics of Toga's expression seemed to grow more animalistic, and she dove at you, stabbing one knife out towards your gut, which you stepped out of, slicing your own in a large arc that she ducked away from with such speed you almost faltered. Almost.

Toga didn't relent. She continued her barrage of attacks with the boundless energy of youth and an untameable bloodlust. She threw herself into every motion with complete disregard for herself, driven only by the desire to succeed in taking the life from your veins. It was magnificent. Reckless and somewhat terrifying. But brutally beautiful in a way that could only belong to a villain.

A clash of metal rang out as her knife collided with one of yours, and you slammed a foot into her chest, sending her rolling across the dirt. She stopped herself quickly, sprinting back towards you with a slice that had you dropping low, left leg spread out straight to give you enough leverage to launch back up again.

The longer the two of you waged war, the more your muscles began to ache. It was as if Toga had no concept of fatigue, because the longer she went, the faster she seemed to get. The burn in your body was glorious, a reminder of the strength you had beneath your skin. It was the part of your profession you enjoyed the most. You were always prepared and capable of defending yourself.

"You're not giving me anything easily, are you?"

Toga's words were breathy as she strained to find just a chance to swipe her blade over your skin. You grinned at her, sweat beading at your hairline. "I wouldn't do you the injustice."

This seemed to spur her on, and she came at you with more fervour than you thought was possible. She was rapid in every movement, but you had many years experience on her. Even so, she twirled like an expert on her feet, spinning around you as you danced around her. When she gave you an opening, you launched at her, knife ready, only for her to block you, the bite of metal on metal screeching out. Before you could move again, she twisted on her feet, kicking you back the same way you'd launched her earlier.

Pain sparked across your lower ribs, and you grit your teeth as you turned yourself mid-air to land cat-like on all-fours, knuckles dragging through the dirt as you came to a stop. "You earned a hit, but playtime is over."

The words barely had a chance to reach Toga before you let go of your daggers to grab the tiny throwing knives you tucked away in each boot, launching one and then the other at her. They cut through the air, a flash of silver that could be gone in a single blink. The young villain twisted herself away from the first, but the second grazed her cheekbone, drawing beads of ruby-red blood on her pearly white skin.

Muted surprise flashed in her feline eyes, and when she looked back at you, you were already on your feet, sprinting at her with your knives in hand once more.

The next clash of steel was much louder than the last, and Toga fought against the strength you wielded over her, straining so hard her cheeks flushed red. But you had already won this fight before it began, and when you swiped a leg under her feet, she went down hard and fast.

You pressed a knife to her neck, the smirk on your lips mirrored on Toga's. "You're stronger than you look."

Her grin widened. "We need to do that again, and one day I'll win."

You chuckled. "We'll see."

You were in the process of sheathing your knives and offering Toga a hand up when you heard... clapping? You spun around, eyes narrowing as they settled on the scarred villain who'd obviously been lurking.

"If I knew there would be a show I would've come earlier."

Dabi stepped out, signature smirk on his lips and the sight of him sparked fierce irritation in you.

"Care to have a go?" you challenged. "Let's see how long it would take for me to cut you."

Amusement flashed through those cerulean eyes. "Prickly today, are we?"

Prickly didn't cut it. You were a simmering pot of rage waiting to boil over, and feeling that way because of him made you angrier still. It wasn't because he'd crashed your day with Toga. No, you hadn't seen Dabi in days. He'd up and left without saying a word, and for whatever reason, you thought whatever tentative relationship you had with him was more than that. If he didn't want to take you with him, the least he could do was tell you he was leaving.

"What are you doing here, Dabi?"

Dabi dug his hands into his pockets. "I'm bored."

What an ignorant piece of sh—

You inhaled a deep, calming breath. That man had the audacity to tell you he was bored after abandoning you. There were plenty of moments that you were bored over the last few days.

"That's terrible," you deadpanned, "but it sounds more like a you problem than a me problem."

Toga was glancing between both of you, half in confusion and half in warped enjoyment of whatever confrontation she was witnessing.

He narrowed his eyes. "Alright, who pissed in your coffee—"

"Where have you been, Dabi?"

The words had left your lips before your brain had the chance to stop them. Realisation flashed across his face. "So that's what this is about? If you missed me you could have just said so."

Your knuckles turned white around the hilt of your daggers, a motion that Dabi certainly didn't miss. He lifted his hands in surrender, shrugging. "I had a few things to take care of."

A few things to take care of, my ass. There was no-one on this earth that could infuriate you quite like he could. "You don't give an inch, do you?"

A wry grin spread across his lips. "Trust me, princess, I have plenty of inches to give."

Toga spluttered a laugh, but slapped a hand over her mouth when you side-eyed her. You wanted so desperately to cut him with your seething gaze, but you lost that battle almost immediately. The slight smile that appeared on your lips was proof of that.

"You're insufferable."

He stepped closer to you, that grin you loathed and adored on his lips. "But you're not denying it's true."

"Plenty is a vague term," you retorted, smiling. "It really depends on the context."

"Think what you want," Dabi shrugged, smirking. "The truth is right here if you want to find out."

If you had something less sharp, you would have thrown it at him, but killing Dabi — no matter how satisfying — would make life a little difficult for you going forward.

"Needles," you said. "Eyes."

"That excuse won't last for much longer, princess."

You rolled your eyes at him. "We'll see."

It would have been easy to rebuke him if you hadn't actually, sort-of, slightly missed his presence over the past few days. Bickering with him had become a daily occurrence and you felt a strange sort of emptiness whenever you didn't get your fix — as if you'd grown addicted to his brand of provocation.

"So, why did you come here again?"

Dabi shrugged once more. "Spinner said something about making soup."

"So you came to get us for dinner?" Toga piped up, grinning wide. "That's cute, Dabi."

The patchwork villain glared at her, though it did little to stop her from smiling. "I was bored, remember?"

Toga chose to ignore him. "Maybe you missed Nyx, too."

Dabi scoffed. "I'd stop talking unless you want to lose your eyebrows."

You laughed softly, and Dabi glanced at you, lingering for a beat longer than he needed to. Maybe he did miss you, not that he'd ever admit it.

"Are you coming back then?" Dabi asked after a moment of silence, and you nodded.

The sky had grown darker with the passing of the day, and you'd barely noticed how many hours you'd spend chatting and sparring with Toga. The days were beginning to blend together, and for a brief moment, you wished you could stay in that mountain and pretend that you weren't their enemy.

You fell into step next to Dabi, with Toga on your other side. When you walked next to him, you realised just how tall he was. You could tell a lot about a person from the way they walked — from confidence to lack thereof — and Dabi held himself in a way that demanded acknowledgment, with the elegance of someone born to a better life than the one he was living. He was an enigma to you still, and the more time you spend with him, the more you wanted to know. But he wasn't the kind of person that liked to share. It was a trait you also had.

"So, you missed me then?" you asked, bumping your shoulder against him as you walked.

Dabi reciprocated with a brush of his arm against yours. "Like a hole in the head."

You found yourself smiling. "From you, I think that's a compliment."

He didn't say anything then, but when you looked up at him, you swore he was smiling too.

Chapter Text

The soup — which Spinner had told you consisted mainly of tomato and red pepper, among other roasted vegetables — had reminded you of some long-forgotten time in your past where something as simple and heartwarming as soup was placed before you by someone who'd cared enough to do so. You didn't remember more than the feeling of nostalgia that it gave you, and the brief pang of sadness that squeezed at your heart when you realised how terribly alone you'd spent your entire life so far.

Maybe that was why you'd grown so comfortable amongst the League. Though warped and strange, they acted like an odd kind of family. Each of them a misshapen piece that didn't quite fit into the world's design. They didn't even seem to fit with each other, though instead of that driving them apart, it brought them together. Perfectly imperfect. And you never had any kind of family.

You were rinsing off bowls, trickles of red-coloured water swirling down the drain. Beside you, Compress was drying the dishes, humming softly to himself. Twice and Toga were playing Uno by themselves, everyone else having long tapped out and the competition between the remaining two hadn't seemed to die down just yet. Dabi obviously hadn't taken part, but he'd stayed for the evening, lingering by the side-lines where he preferred to be.

"Toga seems to enjoy spending time with you," Compress said, and lost in your thoughts you hadn't realised he'd stopped humming. "It's good for her to have another lady around she can look up to."

"She's a good kid," you replied, pasting a smile onto your face. You meant it, truly, but hearing Compress take note of it — not knowing you were just playing your part — made you feel every little bit of the guilt you were trying to ignore. "You all are good people."

The last part you uttered was so low in sound that Compress likely missed it, but if he picked up on it, he didn't say anything further.

Once you finished washing up, you went to join Toga and Twice, noticing that Dabi was nowhere to be seen.

"He's outside," Toga said, a twinkle of mischief in her feral eyes.

You cocked a brow, ready to insist he wasn't what you were so obviously looking for, but you shut it again. "Thanks."

In your head, you knew you shouldn't be seeking him out. There was nothing to gain in another little interaction with Dabi, at least where your mission was concerned. But yet, whatever melancholy had gripped you needed a remedy. And for whatever stupid, naive reason, he seemed to be just that.

So, you stepped outside, shutting the door softly behind you. Dabi was sitting in one of a few rickety garden chairs, a cigarette in hand. He didn't hear your approach, but you hadn't wanted him to. It was the perfect opportunity to observe him for just a few brief moments, and you did just that.

His head was tilted back, his gaze searching the sky almost wistfully. Every few moments, he'd take a drag, blowing a plume of warm breath and smoke into the chilled night air. He didn't seem like the kind of person to enjoy a little peace, but here he was. In all the darkness he shrouded himself in, he could blend into the night if he wished it.

"You do love your vices, don't you?"

Finally revealing your presence, you stepped up to where he was sitting. Dabi cast his eyes towards you, his face half shadow, and motioned for you to sit down. "Would you like one?"

You were indifferent about smoking, only caring to do it for the social aspect when you'd needed to blend in. Maybe this moment wasn't so different.

You sat down in the empty chair to his right, a smile forming so easily on your lips. "Only if you light it with your pinky."

Dabi chuckled softly. "Anything for you, princess."

You knew he was joking, but your traitorous heart still skipped a beat, nonetheless.

Dabi held out a cigarette, and you plucked it from his fingers, placing it between your lips. His eyes tracked the motion, lingering shamelessly on your plump pout. A lick of fire coiled in your center as he leaned towards you, his pinky igniting in a burst of cobalt flame.

"Inhale."

It was a soft command and one you obeyed without hesitation. His voice was deep and smooth and having him so close this way was far more intimate than you'd intended. But you delighted in how his eyes watched your lips pucker around the end of the filter, drawing sweet air through his poison of choice. For a brief moment, you imagined the rough pad of his thumb parting your plump lips, the salt of his skin coating your tongue.

"That's my girl."

Your breath hitched and your cheeks flamed. You had to stop yourself from coughing up the lungful of tobacco smoke you'd just inhaled. Dabi withdrew with a playful smirk, and for whatever absurd reason every retort had died on your suddenly limp tongue.

"Were you bored of Twice's yelling?" Dabi asked, offering you merciful reprieve from the flustered shock you found yourself in.

"Something like that," you said, your tongue finally finding motion. "I was more curious about what you were doing out here all alone. I thought you said stargazing wasn't your thing?"

Dabi tilted his head back as he took another drag, his eyes skyward. "I'm trying out something new."

Another inhale. "Anything else on your list?"

The villain turned to you then, a lopsided smirk on his shadowy lips. "I can think of a few things."

Dabi's gaze lingered on your lips, and the heat of those cerulean eyes had your heart hammering against your ribcage.

"Careful," you breathed. "Or I might start thinking you have a thing for me."

Dabi's smirk grew. "I guess you'll never know."

A battle of wills, that's what it was. Neither side willing to concede defeat and cross that ever-thinning line between you. But god did you want to. He was your enemy — a villain, no less — and letting go of whatever shred of restraint you had was forbidden in so many ways. Morally wrong, too. But maybe that's what made it all so enticing. Or it could be how easily the two of you bounced off one another — like there was something deeper between you that few shared.

The banter was glorious, but in the end, you knew little about who Dabi truly was. For all you knew, this charming arrogance he wielded could be a mask, and beneath it was someone else entirely. You couldn't care for someone who didn't exist.

Care? Who said anything about caring?

Trust you to attempt to convince your own mind it was the one lying to you.

"A truth for a truth, what do you say?"

Dabi cocked an eyebrow as he glanced over at you, his lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He plucked it from his lips before answering. "Depends on the question."

You grinned. "What's your greatest fear?"

His lips curled at their edges. "Straight to the personal stuff."

You shrugged. "I'll give you mine if you give me yours."

Amusement lit in those bright eyes. He'd seemingly gotten used to your strange lines of questioning over the past while. "Ladies first."

You took the last drag of your cigarette, putting it out as Dabi did the same. He watched you curiously as you pieced your thoughts together, tapping a finger lightly on your chin. "My greatest fear..."

Fear. What a strange, inescapable thing.

"I would say it's living a lonely, unremarkable life." Which is exactly what you'd been doing until now. "I don't want to hide anymore."

You hadn't exactly meant to say that last part, it was a continuation of your line of thought which happened to spew out of your lips before you stopped it.

Dabi regarded you curiously, his gaze scanning your face like he'd found a new little puzzle piece of you, and wanted to understand how it fit. "Vague. So you want fame? Or should I say infamy?"

"Not exactly," you replied, meeting his eyes. "A million people could love me or hate me, but if just one person knew all of me — and found me remarkable — then that would be enough."

Dabi slid his gaze over you as your words settled into silence. "You don't have to hide, not with us."

Not with me.

You heard the whisper between his words — the truth he wanted to give but couldn't. Dabi would never reference the League as a family he was a part of. Not when he so obviously disregarded them. You wanted to tell him to stop hiding, but you bit your tongue before the words could leave your lips.

It was a beautiful sentiment, and one so starkly opposed to who he was. But you could never stop hiding, especially from him. If the day ever came that you did, it would be the day your own blades would turn towards your heart, and he would be the one to drive them through.

"What about you then?" you questioned. "Divulge your deepest fears and I'll keep your secrets." You winked at him, drawing an 'X' over your chest. "Cross my heart."

Dabi regarded you with amusement. "What if I don't have any fears?"

"Everyone is afraid of something."

For the briefest moment, a frown appeared on his lips. "Failure."

It was the first time you'd gotten close to what lay beneath his ruined skin. An answer that only led to more questions. Who was he? What was he so afraid of failing at? Or was it something he had already failed at long before you ever crossed his path? You wanted more, but you couldn't have it.

It was a fear you could relate to. This mission could be your greatest achievement or your biggest failure. And sitting right next to you was the reason it could be the latter.

"I'm afraid of failing," you whispered. "I'm afraid of going back to who I was before — nobody and nothing."

Dabi's eyes snapped to yours, and this time your fear was that you'd said too much. But there was something in his eyes, something that looked a lot like understanding.

"You're not nothing, princess. Trust me."

A smile formed on your lips, and it was far more genuine than most you'd given anyone before. "Neither are you. To me, at least."

You cursed yourself the moment those final words left your lips. They were too raw, too truthful for how veiled you kept yourself. Without meaning it, you'd stopped hiding from him for just the briefest of moments and offered up a slice of honesty that should have stayed buried in the shadowy corners of your stone heart.

Dabi didn't say anything, and the lack of words — of jest and banter — stung more than you thought it could.

"I—I'm going to head to sleep," you fumbled, standing up from the shitty garden chair.

You swept your gaze over Dabi as you turned towards the house, but he wasn't looking at you. His eyes were cast off into the distance, his lips pulled in a taut line.

Your chest squeezed painfully as you strode away, rejection painting your cheeks pink. You wanted to turn around, crack some witty joke and return to the frivolous banter of before, never to step beyond that line ever again. But you'd uttered your truth, stone sober, and there was no taking it back.

It could be worse, I could have told him I actually have feelings for him.

Like hell you would have done that, but you'd gotten a little too close for comfort. Besides, you didn't really harbour those kinds of feelings for him. Did you?

No, you'd just gotten caught up in whatever game you were playing. There was nothing between you and Dabi but secrets and the masks you both wore.

Regardless, your hand had paused on the door handle, wishing for a fraction of a second that he'd say something, anything to fill the painful silence that had stretched between you both.

But he didn't, and you stepped back inside, wishing for once that you could actually return to nothing.

***

The next morning, Dabi had disappeared. Admittedly, his absence stung you a little more than it should have, but you were determined to forget about your relationship with him and continue your mission. At least, that's what you told yourself.

The entire League — minus Dabi — were watching over Shigaraki as he fought with Gigantomachia. It seemed the leader believed the giant was slowing down, and his victory was in sight. To you, it was clear that the air was changing, and the fleeting peace of these mountains was swiftly ending.

"You're distracted," Toga pointed out. "What's going on?"

The both of you were sparring a few dozen paces from the rest of the group, and even though Toga had yet to land a hit on you, she still saw the way your mind was whirring.

"It's nothing," you insisted. "I didn't sleep great."

Toga hadn't replied, and you glanced back at her to find her looking towards the rest of the League, her eyes narrowed. "Something is happening."

You furrowed your brows, looking towards the League. Shigaraki had his phone in his hand, Twice's mask had been removed and as you got closer you picked out a few words: Giran. Meta Liberation. Deika city.

"I have a plan," Shigaraki told Twice, fiddling with the coms device he had in his ear.

"What about a High-End Nomu?" Compress suggested, and you narrowed your eyes.

Another one would be bad news.

"Not a Nomu," Shigaraki replied. He returned his attention to who you gathered was the elusive Doctor over his earpiece. "Where's Dabi? And how long will it take for Machia to wake?"

A warped grin appeared on Shigaraki's lips as he formed a plan in his mind. Two more hours until Gigantomachia would awaken, and a challenger had decided to take a stab at destroying the League. Detnerat CEO, Re-Destro.

"Can you warp us to Aichi?"

Meta-liberation army? I don't know much about them.

If they truly had an army, it didn't bode well for the League or the heroes. One thing was clear though, you needed to be there and gather as much intel as possible about your new enemy. If that meant fighting with the League against them, so be it.

"What if it's a trap?" Spinner pointed out and Shigaraki dismissed him.

"We can use this to our advantage, especially with the giant." He returned Twice's mask. "The liberation army won't know what hit them."

Chapter Text

The League arrived on the outskirts of Deika city as one. You'd never been there before, but one brief scan of the area told you it wasn't as it seemed. Cities were supposed to be bustling with life, but this one was silent and abandoned. It was very clear that Re-Destro — whoever he was — certainly wasn't lying about his influence, or the likelihood of his army. What this meant for the heroes, you weren't sure yet. 

Dabi was warped along with the rest of the League from wherever he was loitering about, and he slowed his pace from beside Compress to fall into step next to you. Though you chose not to gratify him with a look, your chest squeezed with some foolish emotion. 

Briefly, you were surprised to see a Pro Hero — Slidin' Go — leading you into the heart of Deika city. But it was becoming quite obvious that nothing here was as it seemed. Heroes were turning their backs on the society they vowed to protect, and the lines between loyalty and desires were becoming blurred.

Ironic, given my situation.

You blew out a heavy breath as you walked, noticing the glance that Dabi gave you as you did. But again, you kept your eyes forward. 

The League had just stepped into a den of lions, and you were not stupid enough to ignore that fact. Whatever else was swirling around in your mind was of little consequence, and so you schooled your expression the way you were so thoroughly trained to do, becoming the assassin without the heart of the woman who's shell you wore. 

Two figures appeared before you all, and you recognised one as a well-known politician, and the other — a blue-skinned woman — had her gaze set on Toga. The latter didn't seem fazed by the attention, but you didn't like the excitement in that woman's eyes when she looked at Toga.

"Don't take yourself too seriously, princess," Dabi said from beside you, his arm brushing against yours. "Ready to have some fun?"

The slightest of smirks fought its way onto your lips, and you chanced a look up at him, finding a matching smirk on his two-tone lips. 

There were two sides to you. A cold, calculated assassin who embodied every lesson the Commission pounded into her. And then there was the other part of you — the reckless, deadly being who enjoyed the excitement of battle, of chasing her enemies and destroying them one by one. The girl who felt too much and cared far too easily to not get burned by the inferno she flirted with. 

You knew you were supposed to be listening to Shigaraki speak to the two strangers, but your focus was on Dabi — on that irresistible challenge in his eyes — and you couldn't deny him even if you wanted to. "Try not to die."

Dabi grinned, the smile feral and untamed. "Give them hell, princess."

A loud, booming voice broke out, and you knew it had already begun. Masses of meta liberation warriors swarmed you and the rest of the League, incited by whatever quirk and command the politician had used. You pulled out your gun, firing a few perfectly-aimed shots towards the closest assailants, before unsheathing your knives and descending on another with a flash of silver and a spray of blood.

If only it wasn't fucking daytime and I could use my quirk.

Alas, you would need to rely on brute strength and skill, though that was fine by you. You'd fallen into your deadly dance, spinning around your targets with the grace of a professional, and an intent born from chaos. 

"I never knew you were such a performer," Compress said from beside you as he tossed a marble. "It's marvellous."

You winked at him. "I'm just warming up."

Dabi made a noise beside you, a kind of grunt between irritation and amusement. "How about you pay attention to the fight and actually do something?"

Compress didn't respond, and you cast a glance at Dabi as you buried a knife in another heart. "Says the guy dodging everyone."

Dabi rolled his eyes at you, kicking one guy in the stomach. "If I let loose here I'll end up burning you all."

Fair point. 

Shigaraki was growing impatient by the looks of him, and given how worn out he was, you weren't sure if this battle would end well. At least, that was until you watched him decay an entire swarm of warriors with one hand, turning them to dust at his feet.

A skitter crawled up your spine. His power was utterly devastating.

After that, you'd lost sight of him as he continued towards the tower you assumed housed the hostage Giren. You and Dabi remained with the rest of the League, fighting off second-rate warriors but both Twice and Toga were nowhere to be seen. 

They're trying to split us up.  

Toga was capable of taking care of herself, but you didn't like how that reporter was looking at her. And now that you couldn't find her, a spike of fear speared your heart. 

You were an angel of death, leaping from one target to the next, your long knives wet with the blood of many and you didn't spare a moment to care about it. These were your enemies, and it was a mere coincidence they were enemies of the League also. 

"Chitose has perished at the hands of Himiko," the politician sang from his campaign van, further inciting the masses into a vicious anger.

Where are you, Toga?

Dabi was getting swarmed by liberation warriors, and you pushed thoughts of Toga to the back of your mind as you raced for him, using the bonnet of an abandoned car as a jumping pad for you to descend on the largest one, your blades slicing across his neck before he could think of shaking you off. 

The grin that appeared on Dabi's lips as he watched you was utterly feral, and despite the current situation, a spark of heat lit low in your belly. 

Another useless warrior ran at you both, a katana in hand and you dodged his swipe by falling to your knees, opening a killing wound in his stomach before he even came to a stop. 

Dabi offered you a hand back up, and you accepted, sliding your cool fingers into his warm ones. "Violent little thing, aren't you?"

"You only figuring that out now?"

He didn't release you as he tugged you up. Instead, he pulled you into him, his hands skimming down your sides, leaving a trail of blazing fire as his fingers came to rest on your hips. 

There was an inferno in his gaze that ignited delicious heat deep in you. 

"Now who's all hot and bothered?" you teased, and you were almost sure he was going to lean in and taste you right then and there.

One of Dabi's hands left your waist to grip your chin, tugging it up to meet his gaze. "I can think of a few uses for those pretty lips that don't involve antagonising me."

That delicious spark of heat in your core had enveloped every limb, turning your legs to jelly and your need for reprieve unbearable.

"And what makes you think I'll do what you want?"

The words were breathy and soft, your desire woven amongst each syllable. The grin that coiled Dabi's lips was downright sin and you utilised every ounce of restraint to not kiss him right then and there. There was too much adrenaline in you, and he was far too enticing. 

"You will, princess." Dabi grazed your lips with his. An almost kiss, but not quite. "You won't be able to stop yourself."

Dabi released you and you stepped back, grinning playfully when you noticed a shadow appear over your head. You'd only caught a glimpse of those giant fists of ice descending down on you before you were roughly shoved out of the way, and the heat of blue flames licked across your skin.

You rolled gracefully to a stop, shooting to your feet in an instant. High in the sky above you was a man dressed in a light blue parka standing on a platform of floating ice. Dabi had deflected the attack meant for you, melting the fits down to steam immediately.

"Shit," you cursed. "You okay?"

Dabi smirked at you. "I've gotten a lot stronger."

"Looks like I missed my intended target," the ice-wielder, Geten, yelled. "I didn't take you for a white knight, villain."

Blue flame ignited in Dabi's left palm. "Try that again and I'll turn you to ash."

"So chivalrous."

You moved to Dabi's side briefly, eyeing his attacker. "I can't do anything against long-range arial attacks, this fight is yours. I'm going to find Toga."

Dabi only nodded, his eyes meeting yours in a way that would have meant be careful if it was anyone but him. Knowing him, it was more like don't be pathetic and die on me. Either way, your heart fluttered traitorously in your chest. 

"Your girlfriend leaving so soon?" 

You didn't turn your back again as you raced off in the direction you'd last seen Toga. 

"Don't pretend you're here for anyone but me," Dabi returned, unfazed.

The battle between the ice-wielder and Dabi became distant sounds as you raced through streets and alleys in search of Toga. In the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Twice entering a small shed and you bounded towards him.

"Twice," you called. "Where's Toga?"

You stopped abruptly at the door of the shed, finding an unconscious Toga in Twice's arms. Dread pooled in your belly as you took in her wounds.

"She won't wake up," Twice mumbled, distraught. 

"Fuck," you cursed, kneeling down next to them both. "We need to get her out of here."

"She's lost too much blood," Twice protested, "I have to save her. She's too far gone, let her die."

Dozens of footsteps approached the shed, raising your guard but you faltered when you saw copies of Twice filter into the shed, dressed in suits. 

"Is this your doing?"

He shook his head. "I-I don't think so... I don't know!"

The Twice puppets picked up Toga and you scrambled to stop them. This is something else. One of them gripped her head, preparing to twist. "Stop!"

You dove at them, blades in hand, slicing into the chest of the one holding Toga while Twice pulled her from their grasp. 

There's too many. 

"I'll try hold them off," you grunted as you stabbed another. "You take care of Toga."

Twice was splitting apart at the seams, whatever trauma he buried was dragging him into the pits of despair as he watched assailants with his own face attack. But he didn't stop trying to protect Toga, even as he was swarmed by copies of himself. Even as his arms bent at an unnatural angle, a sickening crack of bone splitting the air. 

You were overwhelmed by the sheer number of them, muscles burning with effort as you spun in circles, blades twirling with you. But even you were no match for so many of them, and you were dragged to the ground, hands pawing every part of you as they forced you into submission. A pair of large hands wrapped around your throat and your head swam. No matter how hard you bucked your hips, you couldn't throw so many of them off you. 

This is not how I die. 

Blackness crawled along the edge of your vision, and you were another moment away from completely losing consciousness when the evil Twice's holding you down were ripped from you by the masked version of Jin Bubaigawara. 

Air flowed into your lungs and you spluttered a cough, rolling onto your stomach to heave a further breath into your chest. Your forehead stung with a cut slowly leaking blood and you were sure that your throat would be bruised, but you were very much alive. 

"Thanks Twice," you said and about two dozen of him acknowledged it.

You turned to the original Twice who was bent over Toga, a double of her laying next to them both. 

"I'm going to help her," Twice told you. "She'll be okay."

You nodded. "Take her far away from here when you're done."

I need to get back to Dabi. 

Your legs carried you back the way you'd came, half stumbling and weakened by the over-exertion and severe lack of oxygen you'd had only moments ago. Echoes of explosions and screams filled the air, and you knew somewhere Shigaraki was facing off his foe. Twice's Sad Man's Parade swept through the streets towards the rest of the League, and you couldn't stop to think of what his evolved quirk might mean for hero society. 

You rounded a corner, coming face to face with the battle of elements Dabi was still fighting against the Geten. Twice's doubles had gotten there before you, and Dabi's foe took down a huge amount of them with powerful blasts of ice. 

"Keel over and die," Dabi told Geten as you got closer. 

Smoke poured out from between Dabi's stapled skin, and you realised you'd noticed it before when he fought by you. He can't use his quirk for too long. Your initial thoughts were correct, and it was too strong for him.

Your legs gave out beneath you a dozen feet from where Dabi was, and his attention flicked from Geten to you, a veiled emotion passing through those pretty turquoise eyes. 

Shit. 

You didn't realise how far you'd pushed yourself. Every muscle revolted against you, and your neck throbbed from when it was almost crushed. 

"Look, she's back!" Geten taunted. "Are you sure you can finish this before your own quirk destroys you?"

Dabi ripped his gaze from you, sending a massive wave of blue fire towards Geten as he launched sheets of ice at Dabi. The resulting collision of opposite forces echoed in an enormous bang. The two of them fought relentlessly until the ground began to tremble and the monster known as Gigantomachia barrelled into the street. 

Geten turned his attention to Gigantomachia's approach, while Dabi ran towards you, picking you up rather effortlessly to carry you out of the giant's path of destruction. 

"I would have destroyed that icy-freak if he didn't piss off," Dabi grumbled and a smile slid onto your lips at his obvious irritation.

If you had more energy, you would have protested being in his arms, but you couldn't, and you definitely didn't want to. Dabi's eyes swept over your limp body, lingering on the cut marring your forehead and the certainly purpling bruises on your throat. "What happened to you?"

"I ran into a wall," you joked.

The ghost of a smile curved his lips. "Klutz."

Dabi began carrying you off in some unknown direction, and you didn't care enough about the destination to look. 

"Are you going to put me down or...?"

He flicked his eyes down to you, one eyebrow half-raised. "Can you walk?"

You pursed your lips in thought, amused. "No, I don't think so."

"Then I'll carry you."

You rested your head against his shoulder, still grinning softly. "If you insist."

Chapter Text

Shigaraki's decay levelled an entire city, and there was nothing that could have stopped it.

His metamorphosis — not even considering the rest of the League's — had evolved his already devastating quirk into something truly villainous, and for the first time, the icy claws of dread had sank into your heart when you thought of the future that was to come. Not only had Shigaraki's quirk become a city-killing weapon, but Re-Destro had surrendered his entire army to his command. Not to mention the fact that Gigantomachia had finally acknowledged him as worthy.

Shit is well and truly hitting the fan.

The information you'd collected already was priceless to the inevitable battle between heroes and villains, and your role in this mission would grow more precarious, though it was very still much necessary.

But all of that was a problem for later.

"Little Toga," Twice lamented, gazing at a picture of her in his hands. "I miss her."

Toga — who was still very much alive — scoffed from the armchair she was lounging in. "Will you stop that? It's creeping me out!"

Twice had used the blood of Toga's double he created to save her life, and it seemed the guilt of killing even a copy of her hadn't escaped him. You let out a little chuckle as you watched them, a plate of sushi on your lap.

Toga had needed a few days hospitalisation to recover, and once she was well enough she was transferred to the mansion Re-Destro had set up for the League. You, along with the rest of them, had been using the provided luxury to recover from your own injuries. Despite how devastating the battle was, you'd emerged with only a few cuts and a bruised trachea. All things considered, it wasn't that bad.

Well, your injuries were almost healed, but there was another rather frustrating thing occupying your attention. By thing, you meant person. And by person you were referring to the alluring, irritating, scarred man who seemed to be making a habit of incurring your ire. His crime this time was much the same as his last. There was little more to do than lounge around, and yet Dabi had managed to avoid you for the best part of three days. You barely caught a glimpse of him in passing, and when you did, he didn't offer you a mere glance in return.

What is his problem?

His mood towards you changed so fast it was giving you whiplash. From how close you'd gotten on the battlefield, to him carrying you to safety, to this. You couldn't understand it. And it pissed you off so fiercely because you continued to crave some stupid little interaction like you genuinely felt something for him. Not to mention how ridiculously wound up you'd become over the past weeks in his presence.

I can think of a few uses for those pretty lips that don't involve antagonising me.

Like fucking hell you would give him a chance to have you. He could beg for all you care — on his knees — and you would only smile and leave him wanting for a taste he could never have. You would not submit to that arrogant, egotistical asshole. Never.

You won't be able to stop yourself.

A flicker of desire coiled in your chest as you recalled that particular memory. How his lips had grazed yours just shy of enough to even be considered a kiss.

No.

You stamped out that little flame as fast as it lit. Dabi had toyed with you, and you had hung onto every single honeyed word, forgetting that the sweetest things can still be made of poison.

On the fourth day, he came to sit with the rest of the League as you ate some food, but he didn't bother to look up from his phone the entire time. That pissed you off enough that you were grumpy the entire evening. Still, you feigned indifference. The fifth day passed and you'd spent it watching films with Toga, no sign of Dabi at all. By the sixth day, you'd had enough of sitting on your ass, and every moment he spent ignoring you when it should be you ignoring him made you even more irritated.

Toga and Compress were playing a card game when you decided to retire to your room early, unbothered with participating. Your room was in the same corridor as both Toga's and Dabi's, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't stomp past his door a little louder than you needed to. You knew he was in there, and it was either that or throw a shoe at the door.

You flopped down on your enormous bed the moment you stepped inside, splaying your arms across the silken sheets with a sigh.

Why am I so fucking frustrated?

Every brush of fabric against your skin felt like a static charge. You wanted release and devastation and you wanted him. There was no denying that he had crawled under your skin and now you craved that wicked villain in your desire and in your hatred. Every depraved thought both ignited you and dragged you further into frustration. If you saw him now, you weren't sure if you would stab him or kiss him. How could that be possible?

How could he have stolen all the power from you? It was frankly unbelievable that you were the one left wanting for his attention and for his ruin.

It was frustration that carried you to his door, but frustration of what kind, you weren't so sure.

For a moment, you paused, fist poised to bang on the wood of his door. This is a terrible idea. It was, truly, but you were pissed off and stubborn and there was no way you would continue to let him avoid you without some kind of explanation. At least, that's what you told yourself.

Three knocks, equally spaced and firm.

You could hear Dabi's footsteps approach the door and your heart leaped into your throat. This was a fucking terrible idea. But you'd come too far to stop now.

Dabi swung open the door, his eyes landing on you — in your hoodie and shorts with your royally pissed off expression — and a flicker of amusement lit in him. You marched past him, crossing your arms when you came to a stop.

"Come in then," Dabi muttered, but his gaze continued to sweep over you. "What has you looking like someone pissed in your cornflakes?"

You pursed your lips, irritated. "Why are you fucking avoiding me?"

It was difficult to concentrate on your anger with his grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and his t-shirt that rode up a little high with every movement he made, revealing those delicious lines you dreamt of tracing with your fingers — and also your tongue. But you'd cultivated this frustration for days, and you weren't about to let it go just yet.

"Ah, so it's me." A smirk curled the edges of his mouth. "I'm guessing the person stomping past my room earlier was you?"

"Stop avoiding my question," you retorted. "You play white knight and carry me off a battlefield only to pretend I don't exist for a week? It's pissing me off."

"I can see that." Dabi's gaze was as hot as his fire as it took in every detail of you. "You're even more beautiful when you're angry."

You scoffed, but your heart fluttered like the traitor it was and you knew you'd made a mistake. The scent of him — of smoke and sugar — lingered everywhere and it was intoxicating in the best and worst of ways. You needed out, and you needed it now. Miraculously, your feet still obeyed you. "Forget about it, I'm leaving."

You'd just grabbed the handle when Dabi pressed his palm flat on the door above your head, stopping you. "Don't go."

You twisted around to face him, placing your body flush against the door to keep some space between you. Not that it was possible with him leaning over you, caging you with his body. Your lips parted as you met his gaze, finding an inferno within it that was mirrored in yours.

You were pinned against that door, watching a slow smile spread across his pretty lips. "You're not just angry, are you?"

No, you were on fucking fire, and if he so much as touched you, you'd lose the thread of restraint that you were so desperately clinging to. But you didn't dare utter that. You pressed your lips together, feeling the stain of a blush as it crept along your neck.

"No words?"

There was no way you were letting him away with anything, not when he was so clearly pushing your buttons. "Answer my question or I'm leaving."

Dabi laughed, and the sound grated against you in the wrong kind of way. "Don't test me, princess."

You placed your palms on his chest, pushing him back one step and then two. "I'm pissed off, Dabi."

He stopped resisting you, and a small frown formed on his lips. You twisted around and reached for the handle again, now that you had enough space to open the door. This time, you'd gotten it slightly ajar before Dabi pushed it shut with the flat of his palm.

The scent of him was a drug, and you were growing more addicted as the seconds passed. "Stay."

You shoved him back. "I'm not fucking staying if you won't tell me. Just one truth, Dabi. Give me one fucking truth."

"I want you."

The words exploded out of him, and you fell into stunned silence, the fight leaving your body with a single exhale. Now both of his hands were on either side of your head, and you were well and truly at the mercy of him and every painful truth he uttered.

"I want you so fucking much I couldn't look at you with those bruises on your throat and not want to burn down an entire fucking town."

Dabi's eyes were bright and wild and you were so perfectly trapped in them.

"No words, princess?"

Words. You had plenty of words, but they were all knotted up with duty and desire and if you uttered just one of them, you were sure the rest would flood out of you and there would be no coming back from that. All you could do was look up at him, lips parted, every single part of you aflame and there was nothing but that tiny little thread holding you back from him.

A noise came from deep in Dabi's throat. "Don't look at me like that."

"Why?"

Your lips had found motion, and he'd tracked the single syllable with complete attention. Dabi brushed a thumb over your lip so slowly it was the purest form of agony. "Because it makes me want to do things I shouldn't do."

Heat pooled between your legs and you so desperately wanted him. Every little scarred piece and you wanted it all. "What's stopping you?"

It was so utterly foolish and yet you couldn't stop yourself. The words left your lips and the final thread of your resolve snapped so spectacularly there was no knitting it back together. You watched his pupils dilate as your words sank in, his hands dropping from the door to glide along your jaw, tilting your chin up to meet him.

"You're mine, princess."

The pure desire in those words made your breath hitch and his mouth crashed down in time to steal it from your lungs.

His kiss was desperate. Brutal. You parted your lips, letting him devour you so beautifully you would be tainted by him for all eternity. His lips — one smooth and one rough — collided with yours in a rhythm not even your dreams could replicate. Your fingers fisted in his t-shirt, clinging to him and pulling him closer because you needed more and you would have it.

Dabi's hands reached down to hook under your bare thighs, hoisting you up so you could wrap your legs around his hips. A moan escaped your mouth as you felt how hard he was beneath you, and the anticipation in you rose to an unbearable height.

His mouth left your lips to trail flaming kisses across your jaw and down your neck, lingering on the sensitive skin below your ear until he elicited a moan from you. His hips ground continuously against yours while his fingers dug into your thighs, and you were desperate to shed what little barriers remained between you.

"Get it off," you commanded, tugging at his t-shirt and you felt him smirk against your skin.

"Anything for you, princess."

Dabi carried you to his bed, depositing you on the soft, silken sheets as he reached to pull his t-shirt over his head. You shed your hoodie, tossing it in the corner, leaving you only in a lacy black bra and a pair of shorts. For a moment, you just looked at him, and he did the same. You'd seen him shirtless before, but one time could never be enough to capture the brutal beauty of his ruined skin.

"You look so perfect like this." Dabi leaned over you, legs intertwined with yours and hands on either side of your head. "Flushed and frustrated and it's all for me. Isn't it, princess?"

His lips returned to your neck, only this time they descended lower, his hands deftly removing your bra and tossing it aside before his mouth captured your nipple. A spark of pleasure shot through your body and you arched against him, feeling him smiling against your skin. But he withdrew as you began to lose yourself to the sensation. "Isn't this all for me, princess?"

You wanted to curse him, but he rolled your peaked nipple between his thumb and index finger and you lost yourself once more. His head rested lazily on his other free hand as he watched the pleasure he wrung from you. He stopped touching you again, and you whimpered, "Yes."

A low laugh rumbled through his chest. "That's my girl."

You smirked playfully at him, grabbing the back of his head to bring his lips back to yours. You slid your tongue into his mouth, capturing his attention as you tugged him down onto the soft sheets so you could climb onto him, your fingers twisted in his dark hair and your soft chest pressed against his hard one.

You broke your kiss, mouth hovering over his and a wicked smile on your lips. "You're not the only one who can tease, you know?"

Dabi laughed, and you swallowed the delightful sound with a kiss, your hands moving from his hair to his jaw. You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth, over his cool staples, leaving a trail in your path to his neck. Your tongue swirled against his ruined skin, stealing a sound from him you wished you could keep and play over and over again.

The thickness of his shoulders would be the death of you, and you roved your hands over them as you straddled him, wanting to feed every desire you'd ever had to touch him. You squeezed his pecks, unable to resist, as your hands roamed lower and you leaned over him to leave a trail of kisses down the center line of his abs. You moved to the right, your tongue tracing that pronounced sloped line that dipped below his waistband, and the guttural sound that escaped his mouth as you pressed the softest of kisses on the pale, perfect skin just above his waist ignited something deep and carnal in you.

You opened the button on his trousers, noting the sharp intake of his breath as you slid your hand further and further until your fingers found what you were looking for, and you circled your thumb over the head of his cock.

"Nyx," Dabi moaned, pressing his hips to your hand and you let out a little giggle.

"I don't think you've ever called me by my name before," you mused, withdrawing your hand from him. "If that's all it took I would have done this earlier."

The frustrated growl that Dabi gave you made your heart thunder and you didn't even resist when he grabbed you, flipping you back beneath him as he hovered over you. "Stay there."

Dabi retreated from the bed, standing up to remove his pants. He watched you with complete attention as he unzipped himself, and you felt your mouth go dry as his cock sprang free of its restriction. It was debauchery and sin and you fucking loved every second of it.

He stood before you, a work of brutal art. You'd seen most of him, and that was enough to stain your memory for all time. But this... this was warped perfection. From the bright eyes to pale and ruined skin, to sculpted lean muscles and that thick, hard cock that you knew would so completely and utterly destroy you. He was breathtaking in ways you couldn't imagine and you were so beautifully corrupted by him.

"What's that look for, princess?" Dabi asked, leaning over you again to press a kiss just below your belly button.

"Nothing."

Amusement wove through his grin as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and panties, tugging them down so slowly you wanted to rip them from his hands and do it yourself. Once he was finished, he leaned back and looked at you, his gaze flicking over every single inch as if he wanted to commit it all to memory.

Dabi ran his fingers down the sides of your stomach, over the meat of your hips, and across to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He traced little circles there with his thumbs before parting your legs enough to give him access. "So fucking beautiful."

He raked a finger up your soaked center, brushing against your clit. Your hips bucked and he pressed them to the bed with his right hand. It was almost enough to make you come undone seeing his large fingers splayed across your bare stomach like he owned every inch.

You watched him, wide-eyed, as he brought that glistening finger to his mouth and sucked every little drop of you from his skin. It was lewd and sinful and you were so utterly screwed. "I knew you'd be sweet."

"Please," you begged, the plea falling from your lips before you could muster the strength to stop it.

The grin that spread across his lips was wholly wicked. "Tell me you want me, princess."

Dabi was on top of you again, his thighs spreading yours apart as his lips brushed so softly against yours, drawing out your deepest, darkest secrets. "Tell me."

You felt his cock press against your clit and you gasped. There was not a thing he could ask you that you wouldn't give to him in that moment. You were completely, utterly and wholly at his mercy. "I want you."

Dabi claimed you in one slow stroke, stretching you to fit him, and you couldn't stop the moan that tumbled from your lips.

"Fuck," he cursed, pulling back to thrust again so agonisingly slowly. "Princess, you're—"

The sound that left his mouth was sinful perfection and you swallowed it with your lips, grinding your hips against his as his pace quickened and you chased that building tension inside you.

At some point, he placed a hand between you, his fingers circling your clit while he fucked you so mercilessly, stealing every little sound you made for himself. You could feel him coming undone with every deep thrust, and you were slipping right along with him and every brush of his skin against yours.

You were completely enveloped by him, breaths mingling and bodies pressed together in every place possible. It was glorious and devastating and you were so consumed by him. "Dabi, I'm—"

The moan that escaped you was completely beyond your control and he increased his steady pace, grinding himself against you in the most delicious agony. "Let me have it, princess."

You came undone beneath him so spectacularly you saw stars. Your hips bucked as Dabi rode the waves of your pleasure and you squeezed him to the point that his moans became tortured, his thrusts sloppy and he buried himself in your shoulder as he let go completely.

For a long moment, you lay there, still connected in every possible way, your breaths fast and your hearts pounding.

Dabi pressed a soft kiss to your lips and brushed his fingers over your forehead, tucking whatever hair had come out of place behind your ear. The action was so gentle for such a wounded soul and it cracked something vital inside you.

"Will you stay?"

Your chest constricted so painfully you thought your heart might stop entirely. It was doomed. So completely fucking doomed and you still welcomed that ruin with open arms because you couldn't stop yourself. Just like he said.

"I'll stay."

If only for tonight, you could pretend your undoing wouldn't be by his hands.

Chapter Text

There was sunlight coming in through the curtains. One, thick band of translucent gold that warmed your face, coaxing you out of your slumber and back into consciousness in the most delicate of ways. Your arms stretched out, reaching for something next to you that had been there all night, but you found nothing but soft sheets and fluffy blankets. In the few fleeting moments that followed that, nothing was different. Once you cracked an eye open, however, the world descended upon you.

Every sinful memory of Dabi's body enveloping yours, his fingers exploring every inch of your skin and the moans he stole from you came tumbling into your mind. A cherry red blush stained from your neck to the tips of your ears, and you squeezed your thighs together to smother the memory of him between them.

I am so completely fucked...

The irony in that thought was not lost on you, but you had little time to dwell on your current predicament when a familiar deep, smooth voice said, "Good morning."

You whipped your head around, fixing your gaze on Dabi. He was standing just inside from the door, leaned against the wall in nothing but a pair of sweatpants which gave you an oh-so-perfect view of the skin you were running your fingers over mere hours ago. Amusement was woven through his smirk and you knew he'd watched you just now, seeing the lightbulb flick on in your mind and realisation dawn on you.

"Good morning."

You pulled yourself into a seating position only to realise you were completely butt-ass naked and you scrambled to gather some duvet around yourself, earning you a laugh from the infuriating villain who watched your torment.

"There's a ceremony this afternoon," Dabi said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Some stupid pomp to officially make Shigaraki the commander. They're making everyone else lieutenants, but you're with me as my second."

As my second. Your heart twisted in your chest. Does he trust me enough for this?

"Sounds like a load of crap," you said, flopping back down onto the bed. "Does this mean I'll be tagging along with you to make sure you don't get stabbed in the back?"

"Among other things," he replied, a playful grin tugging his mouth. "Don't pretend you don't love it."

A smirk found its way onto your lips. "And why is that?"

Dabi's turquoise eyes raked over your bare shoulders and down to where you were hiding the rest, not bothering to conceal the desire that flared in them. "I don't think I need to remind you, princess." He paused, lips twisting into a smirk. "But I'd be happy to jog your memory if you want."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the flare of heat in your core. "You wish."

Dabi winked at you and you fought the urge to throw something at his smug face. He raked a hand through his dark hair, as if he wanted it as unruly as possible. "Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you Twice is making pancakes again."

You sighed, sinking further into your sheets. "And?"

Facing reality didn't seem like something you planned on doing for at least another few hours. You'd need a long, hot shower and some TLC, coupled with deep reflection on the past twenty-four hours and what flawed character traits you possessed that brought you to this current moment and the complete dumpster-fire of a situation you were in. Right now, pancakes were the least of your concerns.

"Doesn't sound like an issue," Dabi started, and you were growing increasingly suspicious of the mischievous grin on his lips. "But... Toga mentioned she would go find you when they were done. Need I remind you that you aren't currently in your own bedroom?"

You sprang up, clutching the duvet around your frame and hunting for your clothes while glaring at the smug asshole who was doing nothing to hide his laughter. "You could have led with that!"

Dabi held his hands up in mock surrender. "Not wanting to admit to everyone you conceded defeat? Is that right, princess?"

"Give me my hoodie! Now!" Dabi did as you asked — rather smugly — tossing it to you and you pulled it over your head immediately. "And for your information, I recall it was you who lost with the whole I want you thing. No?"

Dabi shrugged, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face. "But it was you who came to my room first. Wasn't it?"

"I was pissed off!" you argued. "And I would have left if you didn't stop me."

You were out of the bed now, scrambling to pull on your shorts, unconcerned by the whereabouts of your bra and panties. The dark, wicked recess of your mind told you to leave them as a souvenir.

"Come on, princess." Dabi's tone was mocking, in a playful sort of way. "You and I both know why you came, and you wouldn't have left whether you convinced yourself of that or not."

Sometimes it surprised you how observant he was. He may not know who you truly were, but he did a damn good job of reading you in the ways he could. It was as if you were an open book to him, which was completely impossible given how it was drilled into you to hide your true feelings and nature. It frightened you, too, because you never knew another person who could see beneath the masks you wore. And if he could figure this out, what more could he tell?

"You lost," you said lightly, mouth slanted into a smirk. "And you damn well know it."

Dabi grinned at you. "Better hurry along before Toga comes looking."

You scowled at him, but your eyes always betrayed the smile in them. I'm pathetic. He opened the door for you, sticking his head out before motioning that it was safe and you stepped out, starting towards the kitchen and praying that Toga hadn't already come looking for you.

When you entered the kitchen, Toga was thankfully still standing next to Twice, helping whisk the batter together while he was cooking up batches of thick, steaming pancakes. She smiled wide when she saw you. "Good morning!"

"Good morning," you reciprocated, walking up to her and Twice to observe. "These smell delicious, just like last time."

Toga nodded, her bubbly personality at its height even before noon. "There are toppings on the table and some ready now. Is Dabi coming?"

You fought the surprised blush that threatened your cheeks. Did she know? Surely not. If anything, you were just being paranoid. "I— uh... don't know?"

"I heard my name," Dabi grumbled as he stepped into the kitchen.

You swiveled around, setting your eyes on him. He was wearing the same grey sweatpants, only he'd thrown on a black tee. Even though you were with him literal minutes ago, seeing him and everyone else in the same room made everything so much more real. And the knowing look he gave you didn't help that fact.

"Are they ready?" Dabi said, striding towards you with enough purpose to make your heartbeat spike.

You knew he was toying with you, but still, you gave him exactly the flustered reaction he wanted. Especially as he stepped up to where you were next to Toga, reaching past you to grab a pancake, an action which had no other purpose but to force you to press yourself against the countertop to avoid him getting too close. When he retreated, he sank his teeth into that soft, sweet cake right in front of your face in a way that was entirely too sexual for eating a fucking pancake. It took every ounce of your self-restraint to not kiss him or curse him.

When the spell finally broke, Toga was watching you both, an eyebrow quirked. "Take a plate each, they're ready to go."

Entirely unfazed, Dabi grabbed himself a plate. "Thanks."

Wordlessly, you did the same, refusing to meet Toga's gaze and the wicked smile she was giving you.

You sat on the opposite side of the table to Dabi and next to Spinner, as if that helped your predicament in the slightest. Compress was regaling some story about his greatest escape and you weren't listening at all, completely focused on your food to avoid your traitorous eyes searching for the one thing they shouldn't.

At some point, Toga and Twice finally sat down, with Toga opposite you. She was watching you with those feline eyes narrowed, and you painted your mask a perfect shade of blank as you ate and chatted absentmindedly with Spinner next to you. She was perceptive, especially when it came to you and Dabi.

"Nyx?"

You looked up at Toga. "Yes?"

Those sharp eyes of hers glinted with mischief. "There's something on your neck."

You slapped a hand over your skin, a heat blazing across your cheeks. "I— what?"

Toga lowered her voice, triumph flaring in her cat-like gaze. "I knew it!"

Compress cocked his head to the side. "What's wrong, Toga?"

"Oh nothing!" Toga grinned, waving a hand. "I thought poor Nyx's bruises were all healed, but she still has one left."

Relief flooded your body, but you still wanted to jump across that table and strangle her. Is it that fucking obvious? You didn't dare look at Dabi, but you imagined whatever smug smirk was on Toga's face was likely on his, too.

Between both of them, you weren't sure how you'd survive this.

***

Tomura Shigaraki was named commander of the unified alliance dubbed the Paranormal Liberation Front. Below him were nine lieutenants, some of which came from Re-Destro's side, and the others were the familiar League members you had ingratiated yourself with. Dabi stood up on the stage next to Twice, his hands in his pockets and a bored expression plastered on his face. But beneath the mask, you saw the manic delight in his blue eyes — the wayward pride he held for his position and all that he would achieve.

You still knew nothing about what drove Dabi, but there was something dark and consuming in him that craved destruction. He was calculated and intelligent and you needed to know what his goal was, because it sure as hell wasn't as simple as following Shigaraki's world-view.

Watching him standing on that stage from below felt like being cut by a small, rusty blade and you weren't sure how much longer you could bare it. There were hundreds of people there, all intent on bringing complete chaos and ruin to an innocent world no matter how justified they believed themselves to be. And Dabi stood above them, an angel of death even they would look up to.

The bubble of the last couple months had been popped, and reality came crashing into you, brutal and unforgiving. There was an endless sea of blackness and death between you and him, and you never should have been able to know him. You never would have had the chance, if not for this mission. If not for who you are.

For a brief, selfish moment, you allowed yourself to feel the pain of your foolish little stone heart cracking where it should have been solid. You needed it. Because this was a turning point, whether you wanted to move or not. There was no deluding yourself when it came to who you are — to him. He was your enemy, and you would burn down this organisation with the same fire he warmed you with.

Dabi's gaze found yours and everyone else melted away. You blinked, realising that your mask had slipped just long enough that your eyes had grown glassy. Maybe I cared more than I admitted to myself. Whatever tears threatened you were gone before another moment passed. You held his gaze in yours, your head quirked to the side and that easy grin on your lips. Still, you couldn't help but feel like he was looking straight through you.

One heart. If one foolish heart is the price for saving innocent lives, then I will pay it.

And if it cost you more than just your heart, you would pay that, too.

***

Hours later, while the entire Paranormal Liberation Front was getting to know one another, Dabi stole you away with the promise of a better evening. Honestly, anything was better than talking to a bunch of people you gave zero shits about, and he knew that.

"I need to meet with Hawks, are you coming?"

You'd only nodded, taking his hand as you both warped to that abandoned underground parking lot that Dabi liked to use for his clandestine meetings with the number two hero.

"I had him prove himself by taking out Best Jeanist. I met with him a few days ago."

Your surprise didn't show. "And did he?"

Dabi shrugged. "It looked like him."

And you knew for a fact there was no way it was Best Jeanist, but whatever Hawks had done to convince Dabi of its truth was worth reward. "And what's this meeting for?"

He shrugged again. "So serious, princess. It's just to invite him to the next meeting. I can't argue his loyalty anymore."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm just catching up! It's not my fault you've kept all this from me."

Dabi grinned, bumping an arm against yours. "Still upset I didn't talk to you for a week? If you need another apology, just let me know."

You snorted. "That was your apology?"

"A pretty good apology, I'd think." The smirk on his lips was insufferable. "Given the sounds you made—"

You shoved him away, laughter breaking through whatever stoicism you attempted to have. "Get lost, perv."

He slapped a hand over his heart as if your insult wounded him and you couldn't help but giggle just a little bit. "So mean."

The approaching footsteps of the number two hero startled you for a moment, and you slipped back into your role and the seriousness that Dabi was poking fun at you for.

Hawks stopped a dozen feet from you and Dabi, his features half-shrouded in darkness. His sharp eyes flitted between both of you, and you wondered had he heard any of the conversation that you shared before his arrival. Guilt coiled in your chest. Even if Hawks didn't know it, you were on his side. And your fraternising with Dabi felt like you were betraying something.

Who are you, dove?

Those words he spoke to you weeks ago hit you like a knife through the chest now. Living up in the mountains with the League for so long had warped something in you. None of this was black and white anymore, but your side was picked for you many years ago. Was the person that you were inside different than the weapon the Commission created?

Dabi began to inform Hawks about the developments of the Paranormal Liberation Front, and you couldn't find the strength in you to listen. Instead, you watched Hawks and looked beneath to the tiny cracks in his mask. The veiled anger in his eyes as he learned how much had changed and how powerful his enemies had grown. That should have been how you felt, but everything had become so twisted and you forgot what you were here for.

Hawks, who you had always envied for how bright he shone, was so practiced in his every expression. But you could see beyond it, because you shared something that no-one else did.

You were both liars. Beautiful, tortured liars. And you were so fucking good at it that sometimes you forgot which of your words were lies, and which were truths.

You barely blinked until Hawks began to leave, and then you turned to Dabi, motioning that you wanted to follow him for a bit.

Dabi only nodded, and you knew then that he did trust you. It burned you more than it should have. But alas, you plastered on a grin and shot him a wink. "Meet me at my apartment in a couple hours?"

"See you then, princess."

The darkness welcomed you like a comforting blanket, having gone so long without using your quirk. Inside it, nothing could harm you but the light, and you could hide forever if you wanted to.

You didn't need to follow Hawks — not really — because you knew where he was going, and you headed there as fast as you could, leaping between shadows and scaling entire buildings. It was moments like that you wished you could take flight, just like he could. How free must you feel soaring above an entire city, beholden to nothing but the strength of your wings?

When you reached your destination, the window was open, just like it was supposed to be. You slipped inside using your shadows, and you remained there until ordered not to.

Hawks had beaten you there, his speed unmatched with those powerful crimson wings at his back.

"I've been invited to their headquarters," Hawks reported, his voice firm and even. "Further contact won't be possible after this point, I'm not confident I won't be watched."

He was right, of course. If it wasn't you tasked to follow him, it would surely be someone else's job. There was no way that Dabi trusted him yet.

The Commission representative — a nameless, faceless being — only nodded. "Continue with your mission. It is up to you now."

Hawks bowed his head, his golden curls bobbing as he did. Somehow, they still caught the light even if there was very little of it. "Yes, sir."

"There's one more thing we need to brief you on before you go," the representative spoke, almost robotically. "Nyx, you can come out now."

You did as you were told, stepping out from your shadows, eyes pinned on the winged hero before you. Hawks' eyes widened so very slightly, but you caught the motion, a smirk pulling on your lips.

"Hello again."

Chapter Text

This was what you'd wanted for so very long. To stand before another — a hero — and for them to know that you were on the same side. That you weren't just a monster with a blade who was invisible to all others but the marks she slew.

Hawks regarded you with those sharp eyes of his that gave nothing away, and your chest filled with a strange kind of nervous energy. His silence told a story — of cogs turning and realisation dawning — but he was better than you at shrouding everything he felt.

But even so, there was something you loved about the way he studied you now. How his gaze seemed to travel beneath your skin, laying you bare for who you were inside. Only he could know, because he was one and the same. His magnificent wings were tucked in by his side, and you watched them furrow along with his exploration of you.

"Nyx, what do you have to report?"

The voice broke both you and Hawks from your contest, and you began speaking with the lead-up to Deika city, the presence of Gigantomachia, and how Shigaraki had won an entire army from Re-Destro.

"And your position in the League?"

For a fraction of a second, you faltered. It was easy talking about the events you survived through, but being so clinical and devoid of all feeling when it came to the League... that cracked something in you. How could you pretend that Toga's laughter didn't bring you joy? Or that Twice's pancakes weren't the best you'd ever tasted? And Dabi...

Focus.

No. This is who you are. A liar. A betrayer. A soulless being with nothing but blackness in her soul and stone for a heart. You blinked, allowing every lesson the Commission beat into you to take hold, and you hardened every bit of yourself that had thawed out since you began.

You were stronger than frivolous, fleeting emotion, and you had never failed before.

"I am a trusted member of the League," you spoke, and the voice didn't even sound like yours. "I am also second to a lieutenant of the Paranormal Liberation Front — to Dabi."

"Are you sure that Dabi trusts you?"

You felt like you were carving open your own chest, every word another slice. "Yes, I am sure."

Hawks' eyes were back on you now, and you fought so desperately to keep all of your traitorous feelings inside a little box. He couldn't understand how you felt. He wouldn't accept it. Not when he was everything that you once aspired to be. The perfect hero.

"Good work, Nyx. You may return now."

Being commended for being a good liar felt like a slap in the face, but you merely bowed your head and strode straight past Hawks and out of the room before your mask slipped any further. You could have used the window again, and you weren't sure why you didn't. Maybe there was a reason for it. Maybe you h—

"Wait."

And there it was.

Hawks' voice halted you in your tracks, and you turned back around to meet his golden eyes. "We should talk some more," he said, running a hand through his waves.

"About?"

The smile on his lips was so easy. Playful, even. It was the kind of smile he wore every day. The kind that his fangirls appreciated the most. You had to admit, he was beautiful. But Hawks had even more masks than you, and you wanted to see something real.

"It was you who warned me about the Nomu, right?"

Now his eyes had gained that sharp edge you knew belonged to the Commission's Hawks. It intrigued you to know which version of him was real. The adored hero? Or the cold, calculated operative? Or was there someone else beneath that fur-lined jacket?

Your lips tugged upwards. "Maybe."

"You were in that restaurant then?"

You shrugged. "I may have followed you."

Hawks' lips twitched into a smile, but this one felt more genuine. His sharp gaze traveled the length of you, from your black boots to the knives strapped at your thighs, and back up again. "I never sensed a thing."

"Is that a compliment?"

He grinned at you now, but it had an edge that was almost... wicked. Something about it reminded you of that night in the club. He had turned on the perfect seduction, dripping with charm as his fingers traced circles over your hips. If you hadn't known better, he may have won you over in one swoop. Back then, you were his enemy. What did he think of you now?

"Maybe."

He stole a smile from you then, one you weren't planning on giving. "It's nice to finally meet you, Hawks. For real."

He nodded, an easy grin on his perfect lips. "Are you leaving?"

"I made an excuse to come here now," you explained. "I'm not planning on pushing it."

"Is he waiting somewhere for you?" Hawks asked, his head cocked to the side. "Dabi, I mean?"

Hearing Dabi's name fall from Hawks' lips felt... strange to you. The version of Dabi that Hawks knew was so far removed from who you'd spent the last couple of months with. To Hawks, Dabi was nothing but a vicious, murdering psychopath. In truth, you wished that was all that Dabi was. It would make things easier for you.

You nodded in reply to Hawks, and he tucked his hands into his pockets, still dragging those golden eyes over you as if he hadn't yet figured you out. "We'll be working together from now on," he said, as if the idea hadn't fully settled for him yet. It didn't for you.

"We will," you replied, plump lips curving into a slanted smile. "Try not to get in my way."

Hawks smiled at you, then. It was that perfect, lazy smile that stole hearts and shattered them in the same moment. He was every shade of beauty between angelic and seduction. But you saw something else, too. A darkness swimming in those pretty gold eyes that he couldn't hide.

You couldn't hide yours either, and that's why it was so easy to recognise the same in him. A mark of a corrupted soul. He truly was a mirror of you in so many ways.

Beautiful liars, indeed.

***

When you finally returned to your apartment, Dabi was sprawled across your sofa, idly watching some movie on the T.V with a bowl of salted nuts on his chest. His eyes flicked to you as you entered, and he sat up, allowing you to take your place next to him.

"It's weird having you waiting for me," you said as you sat down. "It's usually the other way around."

Dabi smirked, throwing another handful of nuts into his mouth. "Still salty?"

You eyed him and the salted nuts, one eyebrow raised. "No, I think that's you right now."

Dabi leaned in suddenly, and it startled you enough that you jerked back. Given the grin on his lips, it seemed that was his intention. "Would you like a taste?"

He was close enough that you could smell the salt on his breath, and see the dust of it that remained at the edges of his lips. Despite yourself, a blush crept along your cheeks. He was so fucking good at messing with you, it was infuriating. And yet you still gave him the reaction he wanted every single time.

"You're insufferable."

You breathed those words against his mouth, delighting in how his breath caught in his throat. You didn't know why you did it, but you leaned in even closer and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, your tongue swiping away the salt from his skin.

The noise that Dabi made was downright sinful and you laughed, that wicked little part of you feeding off his every reaction.

You leaned in again, brushing your mouth against his so gently and so briefly it was torturous even for you. "You don't think you're the only one who can play this game, do you?"

Dabi groaned as you pulled away, but didn't reach out any further. You smirked, reveling in the little bit of power you wielded over him. It was only fair, given how often he enjoyed messing with you. He settled his eyes on you, leaning back on the sofa. "See anything interesting?"

He was referencing Hawks, and you shook your head. "Absolutely nothing, except for the human-sized bird bath on top of his apartment building."

Dabi laughed and you smiled, wondering how offended Hawks would be if you uttered that joke in front of him. Probably quite a bit.

The villain next to you reached for another handful of nuts, and you tracked the movement until he let them fall into his mouth, lips parted and dusted in salt. "Why did you go after him?"

You expected that question, but your heart still skipped a beat when Dabi's cerulean gaze settled back on you again. His paranoia was a trait you picked up on immediately after meeting him, and it was warranted in his world. But you wondered was he still wary of you the way he was of Hawks? Likely not to the same degree, but what kind of trust did he have for you?

Some warped part of you wanted him to trust you, not for your mission's sake, but because you wanted it for yourself. Even though you would shatter it eventually. You were selfish in that way.

You shrugged at Dabi's question. "I went because you don't trust him."

The slightest of grins tipped up the edges of his lips, and you knew your words — cunning and calculated as they were — had landed their deceitful blow. "You're the perfect little weapon."

You smirked, reaching over him to grab a nut from the bowl he'd left. You popped it in your mouth, enjoying the sharp saltiness on your tongue. "I am your second now, aren't I?"

"My perfect little weapon then," Dabi said and you rolled your eyes.

It took more effort than you liked to neutralise the swarm of emotions in your chest then. A weapon. That is what you were, that is what you always were. A weapon to be wielded by different hands, for different tasks, but always used in the same way. Always bloodied and stained by the end. And Dabi had no idea that it would be his blood that stained your blades by the end of this.

You were his weapon, yes. The one that would finish him. That's if he didn't see you for what you truly were first. Maybe then, you'd be your own killing blade.

***

In the days that followed, you didn't return to the mansion you'd spent the week before in. Instead, the base of the Paranormal Liberation Front was your new home. It was a sprawling complex, built above and below the ground that was capable of housing hundreds of villains. Given its convenient location outside of the city, it was completely secluded and separate from prying eyes.

You'd been given a room on the same stretch of the building as the rest of the League, but you shared no walls with any of them. Less likely to be overheard talking with... well, talking with anyone.

The first days consisted of various meetings and introductions as sympathisers from all over the country began flocking in. Every body that crossed the threshold was another enemy, and there were many of them. You'd spent a lot of time with Toga, sometimes training, sometimes just watching. Dabi was swept up in meetings, but when he wasn't, he was usually with you and the rest of the League. Lately, he'd started complaining about someone called Skeptic, who he seemed to despise, given he was responsible for Toga's almost-death and your injuries in Deika city.

"How many more people are going to show up here?" you mumbled, frowning at every new face you glimpsed. "And how many of these people do you think are spies?"

It was late one afternoon less than a week after you moved to the complex, and you'd wanted a moment of peace outside. Of course, the villain you were so fond of decided to invite himself. Even so, you were glad for the company.

Dabi leaned against a concrete wall beside you, a cigarette dangling from his two-tone lips. He plucked it from between them before answering with a shrug. "Maybe some, maybe none. I don't think it'll change anything, and I don't really care if it does."

You flicked your gaze to him, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean? I would think someone in a commanding position would have to care."

He shrugged again. "It would be an inconvenience if it was shut down so soon, but I have my own motivations besides this."

Motivations. It was the first crumb of anything he'd given you in relation to why he was the villain you stood beside now, and you clung to it with a grip of steel. You wanted to know who he was. Scratch that, you needed to know. Even despite how far you'd come — how deep you'd fallen into this situation with Dabi, you still had no idea what lay beneath that scarred skin. Who lay beneath.

"Motivations, huh?" you repeated, tilting your head to the side as you looked up at him. "I guess you're not going to elaborate?"

A smirk graced his lips. "Intrigued to know more, princess?"

The amusing part of this situation was that both versions of you wanted that information. The ruthless double agent, but also the League's Nyx. You could be extracting information for the benefit of your mission, or you could be doing so for the foolish creature that wanted to know. These days, those two people were beginning to blur and you weren't sure which one you truly were — and which of them was playing this game of Dabi's right now.

A game, that's always what it was when it came to you and him. You'd let your interest show, and he dangled it over your head just out of reach. Another little challenge to force the other to concede in. A dare for you to try to find out the truth, almost as if he wanted you to.

I'll play your game, Dabi.

You scoffed in response, feigning disinterest, despite both of you knowing otherwise. "Don't be so vain."

It was in that moment that you caught a glimpse of crimson, and you're eyes were drawn to Hawks as he came into view, strolling along with Twice at his side, an easy grin on his lips as he talked animatedly to the masked villain. 

Hawks noticed you and Dabi immediately, his sharp eyes gliding from the villain at your side to you, lingering a beat longer than necessary. You could have sworn you caught a twinkle of something in those golden eyes — a look that could only pass between two people playing a bigger game of their own.

So many games... it's a good thing I don't like losing.

When you glanced back up at Dabi, his eyes were narrowed at Hawks — almost imperceptibly so — but the pinched frown on his lips was unmistakable. "If anyone's a spy..." Dabi trailed off, taking another drag of his cigarette.

You raised a brow. "You invited him here, remember?"

Dabi shrugged. "Doesn't mean I have to trust him."

You settled your eyes on Hawks' retreating figure as he passed around another corner, his powerful wings tucked in at his back. "I suppose it doesn't."

Dabi dropped the end of his cigarette, stamping his foot on the still-burning filter. "You're going to keep an eye on him."

"Oh?" you cocked a brow, teasing. "Is that my first task from my dear superior?"

His lips twitched up. "Maybe there'll be a reward in it if you do a good job, princess."

You loathed that base part of you that wanted to be praised, because your excitement spiked at the mere thought of it. "And what'll my reward be?"

Dabi only smirked suggestively and you scoffed, rolling your eyes despite the heat that spread beneath your skin. "Pig."

He laughed at the insult, and you fell into comfortable silence while your thoughts turned to Hawks — to the task that Dabi gave you.

The start of yet another game, and it may very well be the most dangerous one of all.

Chapter Text

The most curious thing that had slipped your mind since you arrived at the complex was that you hadn't seen Shigaraki. It was unusual of you to have such an oversight, even if your mission seemed to veer from earning his trust to the rest of the League's — or more specifically Dabi's. But once you realised that he had indeed disappeared, something had snapped into place and that double-agent that lurked in the shadows of your being came again to the front.

Luckily, for you, the shadows in this place spoke louder than anything touched by the light.

Dabi was elsewhere and had been for the entire day, and not even Toga had come to pester you while he was gone. You were well and truly left to your own devices, and you spared no time in using that to your advantage.

This time of year, the sun set in the early evening, leaving you plenty of darkness to play with. Using your quirk felt like stretching some muscle you'd been neglecting for awhile, and it strained as you tugged it into movement, but still complied with your wishes. You were ink and blackness and every crack and crevice was your domain. Not a lock or barrier could keep you out, and no information was too far beyond your reach.

"Four months."

The words floated to you from some distant corner of the complex, where you watched Re-Destro speak in a hushed voice to another.

"Power."

Was Shigaraki obtaining even more power? Even after what happened in Deika city?

"Multiple quirks."

It was that one that halted the breath as it left your lungs. Multiple quirks. There was not a soul alive who didn't know what that meant. But how?  All For One was defeated, locked away in the bowels of Tartarus, and yet he was still manipulating the outcome of this situation. There was someone — the Doctor — that was capable of creating Nomu. Capable of creating mutated creatures with multiple quirks. Was that what was happening here, but on some much grander scale? A masterpiece of engineering in the body of an already devastatingly powerful villain?

You listened carefully to the rest, desperate to glean some further information from the pair.

"They're keeping him at—"

A knock sounded on the door, and silence descended as someone came to escort Re-Destro to some meeting. It was unfortunate that he couldn't finish that particular sentence, but you'd find out where they were keeping Shigaraki soon enough. If anything, the rest of the League likely knew the location of the Doctor's labs, and you just hadn't become privy to that information yet. Dabi likely knew.

Even so, it was something to think over as you returned to your room, stepping out of your shadows and back onto the solid floor beneath your feet. It was also something that you should tell a certain somebody, though the thought of working with Hawks hadn't become any less strange to you.

And then there was the fact that Dabi had asked you to watch over Hawks, effectively giving you a free pass to conduct your meetings with him away from prying eyes in the complex without seeming suspicious for being around Hawks. It was almost too perfect, and the thought did cross your mind that Dabi may be setting you up. Though it seemed less likely that he was some mastermind than things just ended up working out in your favour for once.

Regardless, you would be cautious of being watched from here on out. Until it was time to reveal yourself, you would be the perfect villain and the perfect second to Dabi. If he wanted you to watch Hawks, then that's what you'd do.

***

Travelling between shadows in the darkness after sunset was the closest thing you imagined to flying. You were weightless and untethered, but unfortunately, you could not feel the brush of the wind on your skin, or see the world from the sky. That was a privilege only Hawks had.

Where are you hiding, you oversized chicken?

It took you the better part of an hour to locate him through the sprawling city district he called home. When you did, he was perched atop the tallest building in the surrounding area, legs dangling off the thin ledge he sat on, the breeze blowing through his golden curls. For a moment, you remained hidden, observing.

Hawks had his hands braced on either side of him, his chin tilted towards the sky as he pondered whatever thoughts had him pinching his lips together. It was curious to see him like this. Alone. Unmasked. Was this the man that lurked beneath? Was it only at the highest point of his world was he free to shed the binds of being a hero? Something tugged in your chest. Understanding, perhaps? Maybe some desperate little part of you wanted to know if his conflicts were the same as yours.

You caught the exact moment that Hawks sensed your presence after you stepped into corporeal form. His entire body tensed as his eyes whipped to you, only to relax again, a small smirk forming on his perfect lips. "Following me again?"

You half-shrugged. "Found you, though it took me awhile. I had to imagine I had a bird-brain for a second."

Hawks laughed, and the sound almost startled you. It was deep and melodic and it warmed the pit of your chest. You'd unknowingly slipped out of that other part of yourself who was here for her mission, and fell into the woman who seemed to have emerged since you began this cursed job. You'd let your mask slip. And for some inexplicable reason, your grip on it was slacking every day.

"Would you like to sit?"

But that would mean letting go of this wall I've been clinging to. You didn't say that, obviously. You didn't even dare to wince as you took a step towards him. Heights were something you could deal with — a fear that had been trained out of you a long time ago. But that didn't mean you had to enjoy being hundreds of feet above ground without a rail.

You chanced a glance down, the cars and people beneath you little squares and dots of colour. Your stomach flipped into your chest, and when you looked back at Hawks, he was watching you, a half-smirk on his lips.

Not wanting to entertain the ghost of your fear any longer, you sat down next to him, letting your legs dangle off the edge as he did. "Unique place to spend some time alone."

Hawks shrugged, a grin playing on his lips. "My bird-brain loves it."

This time it was you who laughed, soft and light. His gaze dropped from your eyes for a half-second, tracking how your lips curves up at their edges. You didn't miss the motion. "Not wondering why I'm here?"

Hawks shrugged again, his grin turned cocky. "You mean you have another reason to be here other than seeking out my company?"

You scoffed at his blatant arrogance, but the same amusement that lit in his golden eyes was mirrored in yours. "I think all that fame is getting to your head, number two."

Hawks tipped his head up to the sky, the smooth golden skin of his throat stretching out from beneath the collar of his coat. "How long have you been doing this?"

You knew exactly what he was asking, and you'd expected these kinds of questions from him sooner or later. Even so, speaking of your past felt like carving out some rotten chunk of yourself and offering it up to him. No-one knew this side of you. No-one. You'd barely existed until now. "I don't remember a time before."

Those pretty golden eyes were on you now, Hawks no longer looking at the sky. The sharpness of his gaze cut through your skin, peeling away to what lay beneath. To that roiling, terrible, blackness that had been all that you were. You'd begun changing, whether you wanted it or not, but the talons of that darkness gripped you still. "Since you were a child?"

You only nodded, focused on remaining still beneath the heaviness of his gaze.

"How?"

How didn't I know of you?

"I was trained for other purposes," you explained, meeting his gaze though it cut you. Maybe you channelled a piece of that unfeeling creature they created in that moment, too. "To... dispatch people — villains — that could not remain."

That could not remain alive. The final of those words was implied, and you knew Hawks picked up on your meaning without further elaboration.

"I've known who you were all my life," you continued. "At least, who you became once the Commission took you in. Do you remember before?"

Some unknown emotion flickered through his gold eyes. "I... do."

That was all he said, and you didn't press any further. Though it had you wondering did the number two hero have an identity before becoming Hawks. Did he have a family? A name? Once, you'd wished you had both. Now, you didn't have the capacity left to imagine it.

A wistful smile graced your lips. "I'm not sure which is more unfortunate. Remembering, or knowing nothing at all."

Hawks' eyes snapped to you then, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something further, only to shut again.

You straightened, shrugging off the less-than-enjoyable emotions that had clambered to the surface of your mind. "I don't do backstories, so you can count yourself lucky you even got this much out of me."

It was the truth, and giving him even that shred of information made you feel raw and exposed in a way you'd never experienced before.

He cocked a brow, grinning softly. "Prefer to remain an enigma then?"

A smirk pulled at your lips. "An enigma, hm? Have you been trying to figure me out, number two?"

Hawks smiled at you, trapping you with that gaze of his that gave nothing away. He was so completely unreadable to you sometimes it was infuriating, and also terrifying. You could read most people, but not him. And the darkness in the pits of those golden eyes swallowed you whole when you weren't prepared for it.

"Maybe I am," Hawks admitted. "And maybe you're doing the exact same thing to me."

Your smirk remained. "Maybe." This time, it was your gaze that snared him. "I'll have a lot of time to figure you out, it seems."

Hawks cocked his head to the side, his crimson wings furrowing along with his brows. "How so?"

"Dabi has tasked me with keeping an eye on you," you explained. "Making sure their top hero recruit is as loyal as he claims."

City-light danced in Hawks' eyes. "And if I'm not?"

You met his gaze. "I guess it's a good thing it's me then, isn't it?"

"It is," Hawks replied, the slightest of grins playing on his lips. "He seems to like having you spy on me."

You shrugged. "Probably because I did such a good job the last time."

Hawks raised a brow. "Does this mean you'll be following me around all the time?"

"Maybe," you said. "But I'm not convinced I'll be the only person tailing you, so I'll be watching for others too."

"You don't think he trusts you?"

You frowned. "I don't think it's that, but I won't be too arrogant and completely dismiss the possibility. I'm more concerned about how little he trusts you and how we'll be able to communicate if you're being watched from multiple angles."

Hawks shrugged, unbothered. "I won't be giving him a reason to distrust me, so he won't have an option but to let me stay. I'm too valuable an ally."

You nodded. "Good." There was no doubt that Hawks was capable of playing his part, just as you were. "Don't underestimate Dabi, he's far more observant than he looks."

If only you took your own advice and kept a respectable distance from him. The closer you got, the more likely it would be for him to uncover you. Though like a moth to a flame, you begged to be burned.

It took you a moment to realise that Hawks was watching you — noting the pinch in your lips as you thought over your situation with Dabi. If it wasn't already bad enough having one overly-observant man close to you, it seemed you had gained yet another.

"What is your... relationship with him?" Hawks finally asked and you almost choked on the mere flow of oxygen into your lungs. It took the hero a moment to land on the right word to use, though him describing it as a relationship made that useless organ in your chest beat faster.

"Relationship," you repeated, chewing on the word. "I'm not sure I'd describe anything with him as a relationship. Maybe a kind of forced alliance, or he's an acquaintance? Colleague?"

The verbal diarrhoea was a force that could not be stopped, and every word you spoke was less convincing than the last.

Acquaintance, really? Who gets fucked like that by an acquaintance?

If it wasn't you in this situation, you would have laughed at how ridiculous it all was. In truth, you hadn't a clue how to describe your relationship with Dabi. Even calling him a friend — even fake — was too... permanent. Too much like you actually cared. Like you were allowed to care. You'd been ignoring what had happened between you, refusing to reflect on it and what it meant.

Nothing, you told yourself. It meant nothing. But each word was more hollow than the last.

"I asked because he seems to value you," Hawks said, those sharp eyes turning completely unreadable and you hated it. "I'd even go as far as to say he cares for you in some capacity."

You scoffed, revealing nothing though Hawks' words cut through you. "Dabi doesn't care for me. He cares for what is useful to him. He's incredibly smart and ruthless, and no matter how hard I try and figure him out, I have no idea what his motivations are."

Besides, if he did care about me, none of it is real. He doesn't know who I am, nor do I know him.

Sometimes, it was easy for you to switch it all off. To not feel. To remove yourself from your emotions as if they were an unnecessary part. You'd been doing it for as long as you remembered, though they always seemed to creep back in, their roots far too deep in you. This moment, however, you managed to banish them long enough to tug that mask back into place.

The smirk that slid so easily onto your lips was born of that cold, calculated monster that lurked beneath your skin. "If he does care for me, it's only proof of my capabilities as an agent. I'll use it to my advantage if I must."

For the briefest moment, you saw that monster in you mirrored in Hawks' eyes. What lengths would you go to secure a future for this world? What atrocities would you both commit before this little game came to a conclusion?

Hawks nodded, his eyes so very dark in the dimness of the night. Maybe he believed you, maybe he didn't. You weren't sure if you believed yourself.

"There's another thing I came to talk to you about," you started, your breaths plumes of steam on the air. "It's Shigaraki."

Chapter Text

The setting sun painted the sky in shades of tangerine and crimson. From where you sat on the roof of the Paranormal Liberation Front headquarters, the view was magnificent.

You weren't sure what drove you to that particular spot of seclusion, but perhaps you channeled some of Hawks' love for places like this. It had been a couple of days since you'd spoken to Hawks about the threat of Shigaraki's transformation, and that left just under a week since you'd last spent any amount of time with Dabi, too.

For once, you weren't irked by his lack of presence around you, given it was accounted for with his new position, though some part of you had missed the constant bickering that had become part of daily life. The space between you was bearable. Necessary, even.

That evening, you'd figured it was time to address the proverbial elephant in the room, and that was why you'd ended up on that rooftop in the first place. Ever since you let yourself cross that line with Dabi, you'd been ignoring that it ever occurred.

You could blame it on fear of your own emotions, but that wasn't it. The truth was that you were a selfish creature. Completely self-indulgent and careless, and you didn't want to think about what had happened with Dabi because you knew it never should have occurred, and you'd done it anyway. And that twisted little part of you lurking beneath knew even hindsight wouldn't have changed a thing. You'd do the exact same thing again.

The memory of his perfectly imperfect body pressing against yours flashed across your mind, and like the selfish creature you were, you indulged it. The brush of the breeze on your skin was the whisper of his lips trailing across your jaw, your vivid memories breathing his sin in your ear.

I'm hopeless.

Suddenly, you were happy the breeze was cold enough to chill the heat that blazed across your skin. Your feelings for Dabi were... complicated at best. You weren't even sure if you'd call them feelings. That was too weighty a word for you to admit to. And admitting that would mean far too much — would change far too much. But yet, some foolish part of you begged for it, despite the cost.

If you were in a different world, you might have let yourself adore how everything about Dabi said to hell with it all. That in stolen moments these past weeks you'd been so utterly free and alive. That you embraced that dark part of you that was always smothered and hidden. And despite the villainy, there was laughter and life and...

And maybe that entire monologue was self-indulgent. Maybe nothing was inherently good or evil, but society drew very thick lines between what they considered the definition of those words to be. Yes, you'd felt alive. But that lack of binds did not come without bloodshed. Without murder. You couldn't play villain for the parts that you coveted, and not commit the sins that you abhor.

Those bright turquoise eyes flashed across your mind. Dabi. He was beautiful sin, tempting the deepest, darkest parts of your soul to ruin. But he was also human. Also warped and broken and cruel. You didn't know what created him — created Dabi. Just as you didn't know who he really was beneath it all. Maybe you felt something for him. Maybe it was fleeting and without substance. Or maybe those jests and smirks and all that frustration had etched itself onto your heart. Either way, this ending would be the same.

Beneath it all, you were rotten. You would use this... relationship you had with him to your advantage. You would lie, steal and kill if you had to. If Dabi truly felt something for you, then you would play your part, devouring his affection until there was nothing left of him. You would lie to your own heart until there was nothing left of it, either. And maybe that made you the biggest villain of all.

Perhaps the most selfish part of all this was that you couldn't stop — wouldn't stop. A pretty little excuse for your foul, brutal heart to continue its deception.

You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn't hear the footsteps that approached you until you caught a flash of crimson in the corner of your eye, and you jolted enough that you gripped the ledge for support.

Hawks grinned, his hands raised in surrender. "I didn't mean to startle you."

You eyed him with a brow half-raised. "You're very... quiet."

He shrugged. "Or you were thinking too hard."

A breeze brushed through Hawks' waves, dragging a few strands down to tickle at his forehead. He was wearing his entire hero ensemble, including the visor, though it didn't hide those piercing golden eyes of his.

"Was this your turn to track me down, number two?"

Amusement lit in Hawks' eyes. "I couldn't pass on the opportunity."

You smiled a little, throwing your legs back around so you could face him instead of the open air now at your back. "Aren't you afraid someone will see us?"

At least that would bring a swift end to all of my problems, though we'd likely both end up dead, too.

Hawks shook his head. "I'm keeping an eye on things."

You were about to ask how when a single crimson feather slashed through the air towards you before coming to a stop, floating down into your lap. You picked it up by its end, twirling it around between your fingers as you marveled at it.

"You can hear with these?"

Part of you knew he could, but you'd asked anyway. Hawks nodded, and you returned your attention to the feather in your hand. It was the most perfect shade of crimson — deep and rich in hue, entirely unmarred by any lesser colour. And the feather itself was long and silky, far larger than you'd think but you supposed it made sense given he often used them as blades.

Come to think of it, how could something that looked so soft to the eye be as sharp and deadly as a knife? You brought your other hand to the feather, fingers testing, but it softened beneath your touch like you'd expect a normal feather to. You brushed your fingers along its silky edge, entirely absorbed by the feel of it.

You returned your attention to Hawks. "So you can harden them, too?"

Hawks' eyes weren't on yours, but on the feather in your hand — or more precisely — the delicate fingers stroking along its soft edge. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his body entirely taut. And for a moment you swore you saw a shudder pass over him, his wings flexing.

"I can," Hawks said a moment later, and the feather ripped itself from your fingers to join back to his wings. Whatever feeling had captured him was replaced by the easy grin of a practiced hero. "It took me quite a while to master them."

"I imagine so," you replied, dragging your gaze over the entirety of his wings, wondering for a brief little moment what stroking your fingers through all of them would feel like. "They are... beautiful."

You offered the compliment freely, smiling just slightly. It was honest, at least, when most of your words were pretty lies.

"And deadly," Hawks said, letting the smallest of frowns appear on his lips, only to be gone before the moment passed.

You understood that look. It screamed see me in a world where it wasn't possible to be anything but perfect.

And so you offered something genuine, a smile you'd never given him before. "There's beauty in that, too."

Hawks dragged a hand through his hair, the lop-sided grin on his lips making those eyes of his almost glow in the dim light of sunset.

It wouldn't be wrong to describe him as angelic, and you were sure that many did. He was perfection in its truest form, from the warmth in his skin to the model angles of his face and the messy waves that seemed spun from pure sunlight. Everything about him fit together in a way that was impossible to ignore. But it was his eyes that made you pause.

There was nothing angelic about them. They were sharp, edged in darkness and truly ruthless. Just like he was.

If you were fooled by the hero in him, by the charming grins and easy laughter. Or the boyish smirks and alluring arrogance, then maybe you'd call him angelic. But all those things were merely shades of who he was. Minor truths to mask what made him capable of being number two — and also the agent you saw before you now.

No, angelic wasn't quite right to you. If he was an angel then he was fallen. The beauty of the heavens with the darkness of hell.

Hawks had taken a step closer to you — closer to the ledge — as he looked out at the open expanse of green and sky. "One thing I wouldn't trade is being able to fly."

You stared wistfully after him. "I can only imagine what that would feel like."

"I can take you," Hawks said, "flying."

Your head whipped to him, brows raised. "I— uh... I don't think so."

He was smirking, then. "Scared?"

You pursed your lips, pride and stubbornness forcing you not to admit a shred of fear to anyone, especially him. "What makes you think I'd jump into your arms, Hawks, or is this the first time you'll have heard the word 'no' coming from a woman's lips?"

Hawks laughed, deep and unrestrained, and you saw the delight of a challenge dancing in his golden eyes. "I won't pretend I don't usually get what I want."

He swept his gaze over you. Brief, but still enough that it sliced you.

Arrogant, aren't you?

Despite that fact, your lips curved at their edges. "I guess I'll just have to disappoint you then, won't I?"

Hawks flashed you a smile. It was the kind of smile that stole hearts. The kind of smile that stole forgiveness if he shattered them, too. Dripping with pure charm and wicked seduction. In that moment, he was truly an angel of sin.

"I'll take you flying one day, dove," Hawks said, his eyes like liquid gold in the light of dusk, "and you'll love every minute of it."

***

You were bouncing through the complex, intent on making it back to your room so you could lock yourself inside and do some more reflecting on top of all that reflecting you'd intended to do before Hawks crashed your pity party.

Dove.

The word coiled like a vice in your chest. Once, you'd wondered if he'd ever call you that again — and here we are. Only now the situation is far more complicated, and the least of all your concerns was a little nickname. Still, you'd be lying if you said you didn't like hearing it, and you'd be lying if you said he wasn't devastatingly beautiful smirking down at you with his golden eyes alight.

Nevertheless, that kind of beauty was getting you in trouble these days more than not.

You'd made it down the flight of stairs to your floor and rounded a corner to head towards the residential wing when a warm hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, tugging you into a darkened corner at the edge of the stairwell.

A squeak of surprise left your lips as you
collided with a hard body, the familiar scent of sweetness and smoke enveloping you. You took a step back.

"I've been looking for you," Dabi said, letting go of the wrist he'd captured.

"You almost scared the shit out of me!"

Dabi dragged his mischievous eyes over you. "Almost?"

You pouted. "Maybe a little more than almost."

Those cerulean eyes captured every inch of you, and it was difficult to not look away. Dabi had backed you into a corner, with nowhere to go but against the cool wall if he dared to take another step forward. It was command and dominance and you adored this little dance you both did, always vying for control of every little exchange. It was exhilaration with an edge of darkness, and Dabi played to his every strength with confidence that bordered on arrogance.

"Where were you?"

For a brief moment of foolishness, you'd almost lost yourself to the scent of him washing over you. Maybe a week not seeing him had felt easy, but standing here now, something you hadn't realised was all knotted up inside of you relaxed.

This time, it was your eyes that explored him. "I was on the roof."

Dabi took a step forward, one brow half raised. "Doing?"

You yielded half a step, letting yourself press against that back wall like he'd intended ever since he tugged you to him. "Thinking," you mused, "you know I do that occasionally."

"Do you now?" he teased, swallowing up that little half-step you'd taken, forcing you flush against the cool wall.

A smile fought its way onto your lips. "Of
course."

The words were merely breaths as Dabi leaned in even closer, his bright eyes drifting to the bottom lip you were chewing on to smother your grin.

"Did you miss me, princess?"

You felt your entire body go taut, anticipation and excitement setting your every nerve alight as your heart fluttered inside your chest.

Traitorous body.

Your lips parted, amusement mirrored from his eyes to yours. "You and I both know I'd never admit to that."

Dabi grinned, wild and untamed. "I guess I'll have to use other methods of extracting the truth from you."

You gazed up at him through your lashes. "And what about you, then? Did you miss me? Is that why you came looking for me?"

Dabi only laughed, deep and rough and the sound skittered down the length of your spine.

"Come on," you pressed, lips pouting as mischief danced in your eyes. "You're much better at admitting things than me, after all."

His brows shot up, his grin turning wicked. "Is that so?"

Dabi leaned closer, his lips a breath away from yours. You could feel the heat of him washing over you in waves, claiming you in every possible way but the physical. You parted your lips. If he just moved so very slightly—

He paused, lips barely brushing yours. "Why don't you give me a truth, princess?"

The words were hot against your mouth, each of them a demand that you could not answer to.

"Dabi—"

His name was a plea from your lips, but he did not yield, not one fraction of a centimeter and you ached so brutally in that moment you thought you'd combust. But despite it, you did not offer him — could not offer him — any shadow of what your truths were, because there was too much at stake and you weren't sure which version of Nyx you truly were.

And maybe that was an easy, selfish excuse to continue hiding.

"Just one truth, princess." Dabi's eyes were so blindingly bright despite the dark. "Give me one fucking truth."

Hearing your own words back to you felt like a slap in the face, but still you couldn't say anything — wouldn't say anything.

And so when Dabi stepped back from you, his mouth twisted in a cruel smirk, you didn't even try to stop him from walking away.

Chapter Text

There was an uncomfortable weight in your chest and it was rather... inconvenient. It had formed from the moment that Dabi walked away from you, and one poor night's sleep later it still remained. No matter what you did, you couldn't shift it.

You'd tried reading to take your mind off that particular exchange, but you couldn't read more than a page before your mind wandered off to the memory of him spitting your words back at you. When you closed your eyes, it was that cruel slant of his mouth that haunted you. Gone was the easy arrogance and mirth that irritated you so fiercely, and in its place was cold, brutal indifference.

It was both the most and least emotion he'd ever shown you. There was no getting past the cruelty of that expression, but he'd never been pissed off at you before — and that told you far more than his lack of open feeling did. To invoke such anger from him, he had to feel something for you. Something more than just surface-level attraction. Something real enough to be hurt that you denied admitting to him what you'd forced him to say that night.

You chewed on your lip, that leaden ball in your chest growing heavier. Maybe Hawks was right, and Dabi did care for you. But what could that mean? He only cared for the character you created, and if he found out who you really were, he'd turn you to ash without the slightest hesitation.

Some absurd, selfish part of you whispered that maybe, maybe that version of you that Dabi might care for wasn't so far from the truth.

Not that it would matter if it was, I'd still end up a crispy corpse if my cover was blown.

You blew out a heavy breath, flopping back down onto your soft, thick sheets. It was already past midday and you hadn't even gained the courage to leave your room, choosing to survive on whatever snacks you'd accumulated for as long as possible.

But alas, the universe had other plans for you today, and a very brief knock on your door had Toga letting herself inside, bouncing towards you to throw herself onto your bed alongside you.

"You've been summoned," she announced, twisting her body to better face you.

"By?"

Toga's feline eyes glided over you, narrowing slightly. "Dabi," she replied. "He was looking for you in the kitchen, but I think he realised you were here and asked me to get you instead. Well, he growled at me more than asked."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "What does he want exactly?"

Great. Whatever plans you had to ignore the issue for just a little longer went abruptly up in smoke.

Toga shrugged. "A job of some kind. I don't know the details, only you need to bring your knives."

Her eyes glittered as she said the word knives and an involuntary shudder skittered down your spine. Whatever thoughts were going through Toga's mind on a daily basis were most definitely dripping in the colour red.

"Fantastic," you groaned, pulling yourself out of the bed with more effort than necessary.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

You cast her a glance, brow raised. Toga smiled innocently up at you, but with her sharp teeth, it looked more like a threat. You merely shook your head, smirking just a little at her. "No."

"Come on!" she pouted. "I'm bored and there's nothing interesting going on."

"My life is not a soap opera!"

Toga chewed on her lip to smother the vicious little grin threatening to show. "It kind of is though."

You glared at her. "Where is he?"

"He said he'd wait outside the front," she replied, still pouting.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at her. "We had a slight misunderstanding, that's all I'm saying."

Toga beamed at you. "Dabi is stubborn, but he does care about you. He'll come around."

Those words hit you like a knife to your gut, but you could only plaster on a smile and nod at Toga as she gathered herself up and left you be.

Maybe she wasn't so wrong about the soap opera.

Less than a half hour later, you were already dressed and on your way to the ground floor foyer where you assumed Dabi was waiting just outside. The knives on your thighs were a welcome heaviness, and you realised it had been quite a while since you'd prepared yourself for more action than just tailing Hawks.

I wonder what we're doing.

Knowing Dabi — and also the organisation you were now a part of — it could be anything.

You found said fiery villain leaning against a wall just outside, a cigarette dangling from the lips he's teased you with just the night before. Something in your chest squeezed tightly at the sight of him.

Dabi noticed you almost immediately but didn't say a word as his eyes glided over you so very briefly, the usual fire in his gaze gone deathly cold. The leaden weight in your gut pressed heavier.

"Hey," you mumbled, plucking up the courage to speak. It was a battle not to cringe at the awkwardness of your voice. "About la—"

"I remember you!" A vaguely familiar voice cut across you. "Is this your girlfriend, Dabi?"

You hadn't even noticed the second person standing by him, too absorbed in everything about him and all those words you wanted to say if that oaf hadn't cut you off.

A quiet voice inside of you asked if you would have even told him the truth.

Your eyes flicked to the second person, recognition flashing as you beheld the ice-wielder from the battle in Deika city. Geten, that's what he was called. Still wearing the thick, blue parka, but this time his hood was down, revealing a head of snow-white hair.

"The one who tried to squish me with fists of ice," you deadpanned. "Great."

You spoke before Dabi could, not that he'd confirm or deny what Geten assumed of your relationship. Regardless, you hadn't wanted to hear whatever words might have come next.

"We need to leave," Dabi said, and that was all he bothered to say before he strode off leaving you and Geten to follow.

Fuck this.

***

Two hours in a car in borderline painful silence had you considering if leaping from the window on an expressway was survivable. Periodically, that silence was interrupted by Dabi growling at Geten to drive better, and the former's mood had only devolved further since the trip began.

The only useful information shared on the journey was why you were going on said journey. Apparently, an underground ring of brokers had promised support items to the Paranormal Liberation Front and had taken payment and not supplied, citing they wanted more money as hazard pay. It was your wonderful job to force them into compliance with tactics most definitely centring on violence.

Couldn't think of a better way to spend my evening.

Geten parked up a mile or so from your destination, hidden behind some decrepit shack in the middle of nowhere.

"I got a tip they'd all be here," Dabi said as he exited the car, looking a little greener than you'd seen him before. "Conveniently outside of the city for just a few days."

You'd merely nodded, checking all your weapons were in place before joining them both on a trudge through the rural countryside. The sky was darkening as evening took hold, and you were more than glad for it. For one, your quirk was useful, but more importantly, hiding from the sheer awkwardness of your current situation was much easier.

At some unfortunate point in the walk, Geten decided to speak. "So, what's your meta ability? I never saw it in Deika city."

His voice grated on you more than it should have. "That's because I didn't use it."

"Do you have a quirk?"

The condescending tone of his voice had you shooting him a scathing glare without bothering to deign him with a response. That arrogance was what you hated most about those who joined through Re-Destro. A society where social standing came from the strength of your quirk? Bullshit. What arbitrary metric would they use to determine 'strength'? Was their view so singular they could not see that all types of quirks complement each other in some way? It would be a pitiful world that prided offensive quirks over all others.

Dabi glanced side-long at you before speaking again. "We're almost here."

Here ended up being on the outskirts of a sprawling single-floor mansion built in a traditional style. There were multiple points of entrance from what you could see and littered outside each were armed guards.

You opened your mouth to speak about the best course of action, but Geten had already launched himself forward, summoning huge platforms of ice from a pond that stretched around the building. He used one to float himself closer, and the others he broke into shards he sent slicing through the air towards the closest guards.

"Guess we're not taking the quiet approach."

You'd spoken to no one in particular, but it still grated on you that Dabi didn't even bother responding, though he did look in your direction, those cobalt eyes of his so completely unreadable.

Seriously, fuck this.

You launched yourself after Geten, noting three guards already slumped against where they previously stood, bloody ice spikes sticking from their chests, with Geten chasing another down and one final guard attempting to flee around the side of the building and most likely notify everyone else of your presence. You set your attention on him.

It took you approximately twenty seconds to close the gap and send a thin, sharp blade slicing through the air towards him, burying in his retreating back. You weren't fond of killing someone with their back turned, but morals weren't something you were ever allowed to have on a job. Regardless, it only made that flicker of anger in your chest burn hotter.

"Get down," you hissed at Geten, and he had the good sense to do as you asked, the ice beneath him lowering to the ground before disappearing completely. "Do you want to make this more difficult than it needs to be? Or did you think thundering inside with as much grace as a herd of baby elephants was a good idea?"

For a moment, he just gaped at you. That was until he remembered how arrogant he was and his face contorted with irritation and disbelief that he'd even obeyed you for that moment. "Who do you think you are against me? You don't even—"

Hell fucking no.

"Zip it, frosty." Your voice was clipped and laced with venom. "Need I remind you that once we get inside, your quirk is useless. So, we are doing things my way. If you have a problem with that, you can always go wait in the car."

Geten's lip curled and ice began to surface around him at the same time you unsheathed both your blades and dropped into a fighting stance. Arrogant piece of shit. You took a step towards him.

Dabi threw an arm out to hold you back and stepped between both you and Geten. You shrugged off his touch, pouting. He glanced back at you, a glimmer of something that almost looked like amusement in those eyes you loathed and adored.

"Listen to her," Dabi ordered. "We need to get close enough before we're detected."

Pettiness be damned, you flashed a rather vulgar gesture at Geten from behind Dabi's back, the rage on his face only making your smirk grow more wicked.

Inside, the hallways were shrouded in darkness, with only a dim wall light every dozen paces to smother some shadow. It was the perfect playground for your quirk, and it itched beneath your skin as if asking to be released. A low hum of music drifted from some other part of the building, along with the distant chatter of people. Given the wooden panelling all around, Dabi's quirk was even less useful than Geten's. Well, unless you wanted to burn it all to the ground.

Your footsteps were light as you led both of them through the hallways, following the melodic hum that grew louder with every little step you took.

The sound of approaching people halted you in your tracks, and you pressed a finger to your lips, your focus wholly on Geten who was still scowling at you. "I'll take care of this."

You'd counted three sets of footsteps, and indeed three guards approached from the direction of the music, their eyes landing on you just as you turned to shadow. They fumbled with their weapons, shouts brewing in their throats as you unleashed yourself, leaping from darkness to bury your blade in the chest of the closest one. Before his body fell, you'd disappeared again, reappearing between the remaining two, a blade already at each of their throats. You sliced before a sound could leave their lips.

You wiped the blood from your knives, grinning like a hellcat as you glanced back at Geten. "Guess I do have a quirk after all."

Dabi pressed his lips together to stifle whatever grin was threatening to show and you were almost sure that Geten was about to implode, but he merely smiled at you. "Seems I was wrong."

You fought the urge to raise a brow as you returned your attention to the task at hand. The music had begun to drown out the lingering silence completely, and you were able to make out what some people were saying. By the noise, there had to be a few dozen people present at whatever occasion was being celebrated in the main room of the house.

"I'll have a look ahead, stay here."

You didn't bother to wait for a response as you vanished into shadow and slithered between patches of darkness down both possible corridors, both seeming to lead towards the heart of the building. There were guards posted around both hallways, meeting back together in what you realised was a large square around the main occupied room. You'd need to take out all of them before you attempted to gain entrance.

You materialised back in front of Dabi, explaining what you'd seen. "I'm going one way, you and Geten can take the other."

You'd already turned to head down the hallway to the right when a warm hand gripped your wrist, halting you. Dabi's cerulean eyes were on you now, for what felt like the first time he'd really looked at you since last night.

"Meet you at the other side?"

You only nodded, that vice around your heart squeezing tighter. Be careful. You'd never say those words to him, just like he'd never say them to you. But you got the closest thing either of you could give, and in a strange way, it meant more to you than the truth ever could.

A half-smile graced your lips. "Try not to burn the place down." And then you vanished.

It wasn't difficult for you to dispatch whatever security lingered around the party, given you'd done this kind of infiltration more times than you cared to remember, and within a few minutes, you were on the other side of it, waiting for Dabi and Geten. You tried not to think about the blood that flecked your fingers or the bodies you'd left behind, only that these people were your enemies, just as the League and the Paranormal Liberation Front were in the end.

A flash of silver glittered in the corner of your eye, and you melted into your shadows just as a spark of pain ignited along your right side.

I was too slow.

Blood leaked from the deep cut along the lower part of your ribcage, leading up to just below your right breast. Fuck. You materialised again, blades in hand. "I'll give you first blood, but I will have the last."

Your assailant, dressed head to toe in black, merely beckoned you forward and you dipped back into shadow, leaping out with both blades swinging in one long arc towards their neck. The right side of your body protested the action, blood soaking further into your catsuit. Your opponent — whoever it was — dodged your first attack by a hair, leaping back into the comfort of the darkness.

Behind you, footsteps approached, and it surprised you for a brief moment that you recognised the familiar press of bodyweight on wooden panels as Dabi's.

You leapt forward again, the bite of steel on steel singing in the air. Your opponent whirled around, and you dodged the slice of their knives that followed, countering with a stab that opened a wound on their left tricep.

Cobalt blue ignited from behind you, casting the shadows away as your assailant lunged for you, barrelling both of you into the thin wooden wall panel which splintered beneath the weight of you both, opening into the unknowing party-goers. Your back collided with the hardwood floor and you cried out in pain, rolling away from the hired mercenary who landed on you, your knives held tightly in each hand.

And then no one moved.

It was as if time stood still. The music died along with the chatter of people. Beside you, a girl no older than sixteen held an enormous birthday cake, the candles still smoking. She dropped it, a silent scream etched onto her face, bits of cake splattering over your skin.

One by one, weapons were pulled and pointed directly at you.

Well fuck, that's what I get for crashing a party full of criminals.

For a brief moment, you wondered if that would be the end of it all. A wholly anti-climactic end to your convoluted life. But alas, the ever-merciful universe had more delightful plans for you.

Dabi appeared in your eye-line, drawing attention and weapons away from you. He held a middle-aged man by the throat, his other hand ignited in blue flame that served as a warning.

"Drop the guns and no one needs to die," Dabi said coolly. "We just came here to make sure we're on the same page, not to pick a fight."

The weak-willed man he held — who you assumed was one of the brokers he mentioned — spoke in spluttered words, his face red and blotchy. "Drop them!" he bellowed. "Do what the man wants!"

Slowly, you rose to a sitting position, clutching your still-bleeding side. You cast a scathing glance at the mercenary that had wounded you. Luck is on your side this time. Geten, to his credit, had turned an ice sculpture into shards he used as a warning to anyone thinking of retaliating.

You barely paid attention as Dabi squeezed every last demand from the brokers, promising another visit if they decided to cheap out of their deal again.

"Sorry for ruining your birthday party," you whispered to the young woman who was still staring open-mouthed between Dabi and you. Unsurprisingly, she didn't respond.

When Dabi released the broker, he came straight towards you, holding out a scarred hand. "Let's go, princess."

Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was truly doomed in every meaning of the word. Maybe you'd never be able to tell him the truth, nor know who he really was. But despite all of that, you still took his hand, and every cursed promise that came with it.

Chapter Text

The only thing worse than the sharp ache at your side was dealing with Geten on the journey back to the complex. For whatever inexplicable reason, he'd decided to be nice to you. The first three times he'd asked you if you were okay you thought he was joking, but after the fourth you'd begun to realise he was just a little bit unhinged. Thankfully, he was the one driving, so he wasn't sitting next to you. You'd wished that warping back was a possibility, but Dabi had only mentioned something about the Doctor and not being able to tonight.

Dabi, who was back to looking a bit green on the road back, was entirely rigid in the passenger seat next to Geten. Occasionally, he'd glance back to check on you, though he didn't say much. The events of last night were still fresh in your mind, but the rift between you felt a little less than it had that morning.

Every bump in the road made the wound at your side open where it had just clotted, leaving you drawing a pained hiss through your teeth. The thoughts of a hot bath and sleep were the only things keeping you going.

Geten pulled up outside the complex, hopping out of the driver's seat a little too enthusiastically to open the door for you. He offered you a hand, silver eyes shining.

This is too fucking weird.

Dabi appeared next to Geten, swatting his hand away as if he were a bold child, offering up his own with a growl of irritation that had Geten backing up a long step.

Amusement curved your lips and you accepted Dabi's help, letting him haul you from the car. He slung your left arm over his shoulder, taking most of your weight as you used your right hand to stem whatever blood still slowly trickled from your cut. Geten had sulkily disappeared past the doors into the complex.

You let yourself lean into Dabi, savouring the warmth of him and the familiar smell of smoke and sweetness. "What's the matter with him?"

Dabi stared after where Geten had disappeared, his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "I think he has a crush on you."

"A crush?" you balked. "He hated me five minutes ago!"

Dabi cast you a sideways glance, one eyebrow lifted. "And then you showed him your quirk."

"Right..." you trailed off, realisation dawning. "He's turned on by strength."

A breath of laughter left him, and when you looked up at him he was smiling just a little bit. You realised how rare it was to see an expression like that on him, but you'd gotten pretty good at stealing those smiles from him these past weeks.

"Is that why you were so quick to get rid of him?" you said, teasing. "Because he has a crush on me?"

Dabi smirked, more-or-less carrying you towards the door. "Would you rather I'd left you to Geten then? Because I can always call him back?"

You snorted. "Like hell you would."

He didn't rise to your challenge, both of you knowing he stood no chance of breathing your air. Not that Dabi would let him try, though.

"Where are we going?" you asked, feeling just a little lightheaded after the blood you'd lost.

"Infirmary," Dabi replied. "Where do you think?"

You shrugged, a saccharine smile spreading across your lips. "Does that mean you're going to clean my wounds and stitch me back together?"

Okay, maybe more than a little lightheaded.

"Would you really want me to do that?" Dabi deadpanned, but the corners of his mouth curved.

You surveyed his staples, your smile bright despite the fuzziness in your head — or maybe because of it. "I think you'd do an alright job."

"If you say so, princess."

His cerulean eyes were on you, his touch gentle but firm at the same time. The bright blue of his eyes was so captivating to you sometimes. So unique in shade you wondered if anyone could share it, or if it was made solely for him.

"What do you think—"

Dabi's eyes had left yours, his body going entirely rigid between one moment and the next. You followed his gaze to where it lay fixed on something — someone.

Hawks stood, leaning against a pillar next to the entrance. He was half shrouded in shadow with the evening light bleeding away, and yet still his golden eyes seemed to glow. The perfect crimson of his wings looked a shade closer to burgundy without light, and his sun-spun hair was dimmer, too. He was a creature made for sunlight, but in the darkness he was another monster entirely.

The sharpness of Hawks' eyes looked ever the more menacing now, and still so completely unreadable as he flicked his attention from Dabi to you, to the hand you clutched over your bleeding side, and to the arm that Dabi had so clearly tightened around you. It took everything you had to fight the urge to separate yourself from Dabi. Somehow, you felt like you'd been caught, all your lies unraveling and your truths so utterly exposed.

And then Hawks smiled. It was that perfect, practiced smile. A weapon in its own right. He gave nothing away, not an inkling of thought or feeling and it frightened you how good he was at playing his part. In that way, he put you to shame. He lifted one hand in a lazy wave, the perfect, pretty smile still hanging from his lips. Even his eyes, dark yet bright, told you nothing.

Dabi pointedly ignored Hawks as you made it to the door, and you could only meet his eyes. Blankness to nothingness, and that was all that could pass between you as Dabi all but carried you over the threshold and towards the infirmary.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Once inside, Dabi deposited you on the nearest bed, making space for whatever doctors or healers were around to help you. He stayed as you were poked and prodded, cleaned and then bandaged.

Dabi kept his eyes off you as you sat in your bra, catsuit peeled down to your waist. You'd tried to keep your eyes averted from him while you sat and waited to be finished, but every time your mind wandered, so did your gaze to him. After last night, you weren't sure where you stood with Dabi any more. Your relationship with him was valuable to your mission.

An easy excuse.

At some point, he'd stopped caring about modesty, and he drank you in as if he had indeed missed your presence. The buzzing of his phone broke you both from whatever spell you'd fallen under.

Dabi tapped at the screen of his phone before slotting it into his pocket and meeting your gaze again. "I'll be back."

He'd meant it, too, and knowing that made your silly, fickle heart beat a little faster.

You were left alone after Dabi departed, whatever healers that tended to you back to being off-duty. A few minutes passed, and then a few more, and you stretched out the tightness in your muscles while also trying not to aggravate your wound any further. Just as you finished rubbing out a knot on your left shoulder, you heard footsteps approaching.

"Back already?" You grinned to yourself. "I guess I'm not surprised you couldn't stay away that long."

But it wasn't Dabi that stepped into the infirmary, it was Hawks.

Your heart had lodged itself into your throat, and for a long moment you lost the ability to speak. Hawks dragged his eyes over your half-naked torso, and you swore they sliced through your skin deeper than that knife had. He set his gaze on your bandaged wound, his head cocked to the side.

"What happened to you?"

"I—" Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. "I— I got into a bit of trouble on my latest job. Some hired security aren't completely useless."

"To answer your question," Hawks started, his golden eyes sparkling despite the lack of light. "I guess I couldn't stay away."

The blush that stained your entire being was as hot as if you'd been standing in front of an open fire. A grin danced on Hawks' lips, mischief playing in those depthless eyes.

You would have been completely infuriated if he hadn't caught you so fucking red-handed you wanted to rip your traitorous tongue from your mouth and burn it to save whatever remained of your cursed existence.

"Why are you here, Hawks?"

The words fell silent between you, and his gaze captured you, along with that devious smirk playing on his perfect lips. "I think I figured something out."

"Oh?"

Your tempo of your heart built upon itself with every word.

"He values you far more than just his subordinate."

You were sure that your ribs were going to crack beneath the pounding of your heart, and the step that Hawks took towards you was like a blow.

"I—" You opened your mouth and then shut it.

"But," Hawks continued, and you could do nothing beneath the weight of those pretty golden eyes. He took another step towards you, and then another. "I don't blame him."

The air left your lungs then, and you lost the ability to breathe.

"Maybe he is smarter than I thought." Hawks closed what distance remained between you, placing a hand on either side of your thighs so he could lean over you, forcing you to back down. "If only because he saw what was right in front of him."

Those wonderful wings engulfed him, curving towards you almost as if they wanted to. You felt like prey beneath his gaze. So completely captured and unable to move even the slightest of inches if you wanted to.

Hawks embodied an angel fallen, then. Beauty and darkness. Seduction and sin. "But he has no idea how wicked you really are, does he, dove?"

There were too many thoughts racing through your mind, too many feelings to even focus on one. Dove. Dove. Dove. Your heart battered against your ribs, your palms slick with sweat. And the smell of him, of earthy fresh air and vanilla with a hint of citrus. It was too much. You needed to breathe.

"You can't be here, Hawks." Your voice was barely a whisper, and the words were the only thing you were capable of settling on. "He'll come back soon."

The smirk that formed on Hawks' lips was downright sinful, but he pressed away from you, placing a step of distance between you both. "I guess I'll see you around, dove. Don't forget that I'm taking you flying."

And then he winked at you — fucking winked — before leaving you and your hammering heart to complete silence once again.

***

Dabi found you on the roof.

You couldn't sit on that bed any longer, not after the flushed mess Hawks had left you in. Not with the sweat that clung to your skin, or the erratic heartbeat that had barely slowed even a half hour later. You'd hobbled through the corridors and struggled up flights of stairs to make it to your preferred perch. Maybe you were more bird-like than you thought.

All you needed was to exhale, and what you certainly didn't intend to do was any more reflection. If you thought too hard on what had happened, you were sure you'd spontaneously combust. You were so fucking confused. Why had he acted that way? What could it possibly gain him? Did he...?

No. Thinking was dangerous, and you felt like your brain had been viciously scrambled, your emotions too slow to even catch up.

You were on your fourth round of deep breathing when Dabi's familiar footsteps grounded you back in the present. His hands were dug into his pockets, his cobalt eyes so brilliantly bright despite the dark.

"What are you doing up here?"

He regarded you carefully — cautiously. As if he too wasn't sure where either of you stood anymore. The thought made your chest ache.

"Considering leaping from the roof," you murmured, returning your attention to the open expanse of dark. "But I'm also not a fan of falling."

Dabi's eyes glittered with amusement. "Is your little scratch hurting you that much, princess?"

You balked. "There's nothing little about it!"

Yes, the scratch. That's my problem. Not the winged demon that— No. We're not thinking about that. Pull yourself together, Nyx.

Miraculously, the mental slap you gave yourself indeed banished any further thoughts of him from your mind.

Dabi closed the gap of distance between you, taking a seat on the ledge, though he faced the opposite direction. "Want me to kiss it better?"

You rolled your eyes. "You wish."

His shoulder brushed against yours, and even that mere touch was enough to make you shudder. Your relationship with him was so delicate — so fragile.

This was never supposed to happen. He was supposed to be a cold, brutal killer. A villain without a soul. Not this. You weren't supposed to feel for him. You weren't supposed to care. And yet he had stolen something from you. A criminal even in matters of emotion — taking what you never wanted to give. It was the ultimate theft and the greatest offence he could ever commit against you.

"You know Geten was asking about you," Dabi said after a long stretch of silence. "He cornered me in the hallway."

You laughed softly. "Let me guess, you threatened to burn his eyebrows off?"

"Something like that."

You turned to him then, taking in the wry little grin that had appeared on his lips. The darkness looked good on him, you thought. Where it smothered others, it freed him. It was almost as if that same darkness balked from him — from the paleness of his unmarred skin, to the crystalline blue of his eyes — and yielded, wrapping around him instead of over him.

"Can you burn his eyebrows off?"

You tipped your head back, gazing up at the glittering dark.

Dabi only laughed, the rumble of it dragging over your skin. You could feel his eyes on you now — feel the weight of that assessing gaze. Maybe he'd see the truth of you one day, and save you the trouble of it all.

You shifted awkwardly, pressing a hand to the ache at your side. The villain next to you tracked the motion, his eyes wholly unreadable.

"Is it hurting you?"

You shrugged. "I've had worse."

And the pain you could manage, but the wave of exhaustion that followed it threatened to wipe you out.

Dabi stood up, his hands still dug into his pockets. He jerked his chin at you. "Come on."

"Where?"

He raised a brow. "Inside."

The tone of it was more of a command than a suggestion, but you swung your legs back from over the ledge and stood up. "Wait."

He did.

"I did miss you." The traitor in your chest beat faster. This truth — this selfish little truth was all you could offer. And you couldn't stop yourself from adding just another word. "Maybe."

The ghost of a smile graced his lips, and it was pure devastation beneath the moonlight. "I know."

Chapter Text

You had an epiphany.

The shower had been an ideal place for some thinking, only you were trying not to dwell on the major issues and do some much needed introspection to your current state of mind. You'd reached up to work some shampoo through your hair when you realised that the wound you'd acquired just a couple of days ago was almost healed, the pain now only a dull ache thanks to the healers the villains had on hand.

It was in that exact moment that you remembered who you were — what you were. You'd gotten so caught up in the petty drama of your emotions, not to mention the two man-sized problems that had been causing you all that emotional turmoil. When had you allowed anyone to cow you into subservience? When had you become reactive instead of active?

It was a baffling train of thought. Frankly, with how many sharp knives you owned it should be more difficult to forget how vicious and deadly you truly were. Dabi had backed you into a corner. Had forced you to admit — or not admit, it seemed — truths that you would not be willing to give whether your situation wasn't so complicated or not. You were far too stubborn to be reduced to a starry-eyed villain groupie. Not to forget how much was at stake. With Dabi, one slip could cost your life.

And Hawks. You had no idea what his angle was — what kind of game he was playing. Just a few words from him, sprinkled with a dusting of dominance and you'd been reduced to a mute, inflamed shell on that infirmary bed. You'd been so fucking caught off-guard by him that you gave that wry hero exactly the reaction he wanted.

But he has no idea how wicked you are, does he, dove?

The words had floated through your mind, then. Taunting you. Everything about it — about him — surprised you and also didn't at the same time. But you would never forget the sheer arrogance of him, and you sure as hell wouldn't be giving him any reaction like that again. So, you'd turned the water to freezing and took the frigid onslaught as if you were giving yourself a reset.

You had a job to do.

The objective today was to keep up your major appearances as a League member with some general standing amongst the other rabble that had joined the Paranormal Liberation Front, and also prove to Dabi that you were doing what he'd asked you and watching over the winged hero in the time he didn't spend at the compound. You expected the former to want some kind of report on Hawks in the coming days, and when he was busy with other things it left you with very little to occupy yourself with but tailing said demon-with-wings.

You sighed, strapping your knives to their various places. Spending any amount of time around Hawks right now was not at the top of your desired agenda, but however, this role you were playing didn't offer much time for what you wanted to do. Not that you had any clue what that actually was.

It was the height of day when you made it into the city — and close to Hawks' regular haunts. The lack of darkness meant you needed to use the old-fashioned method of traveling unseen, though you felt like stretching your muscles today. In the weeks that had passed since your mission began, you had forgotten what you were capable of — what your days used to consist of. In some ways, it wasn't a bad thing, but strength and skill were also an integral part of who you were, and you were determined to remember that every time your body yielded control to one of those man-sized problems.

It hadn't taken you long to spot Hawks from where you lounged atop a nearby roof, picking at your nails. He'd appeared at the front door of his agency with a young man you didn't recognise — another with a bird-like quirk. He chatted animatedly with the young man until he headed off, waving at the crimson-winged hero. The smile on Hawks' mouth as he waved back was the same easy, lazy smile he'd given you on a few occasions. He was attractive in a way that screamed he was aware of it.

Remember the arrogance, Nyx. You hate arrogant men.

And maybe that was a complete lie and you knew it.

You stood up, brushing some invisible dust off your clothes as you set your eyes on your acquired target.

Hawks didn't take to the skies as he strode through the wide streets of his district, instead, he'd opted for a leisurely stroll. Somehow, even that choice felt careful and calculated to you. It was a perfect match to his persona — to the arrogant, charming young hero that gained such rapid popularity. It told the people of his district that he was unconcerned on patrol, because any possible threat was no match for his capabilities. It was perfect. He played his roles like he was made for them — maybe he was — and you couldn't help but wonder how much truth was woven through those pretty, perfect masks.

You watched him carefully from above, dissecting every movement and expression of the number two hero. He was so difficult to get a grasp on you couldn't help but want to. Maybe it was that small, insignificant part of you that felt so terribly alone, and Hawks was perhaps the only person who could understand what vicious darkness lurked in you. After all, you were both liars.

"Tch," you scoffed, watching over one particular exchange with your brows high.

Hawks was surrounded by a group of three women, each of them practically breathless at the sight of him, their eyes wide and smiles sickly sweet. His hands were up, waving, while his mouth moved in what you could only imagine was him telling them how flattered he was at their excitement, though there was no need for it. That particular thought made you gag.

You watched them take pictures with him, each of them a little bolder than the last as they shimmied closer to his side. One of them had even succeeded in placing a hand on his chest as she leaned in to say something more to him. The cheeky, seductive little grin he gave her certainly didn't deter them from attempting further advances, but he was most definitely living up to his reputation as a hero heartthrob.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Shameless flirt."

Hawks' grin turned to a smirk, and you thought for a moment he was listening to you, only his eyes didn't move from the fangirls before him. When he finally managed to shoo them away, they tittered and laughed the entire way down the street, flicking through the photos they'd taken with him. You regarded them with only very mild disdain.

You returned your attention to Hawks, stretching out your legs to follow, only you'd completely lost sight of him. Shit. Your eyes scanned the streets below. Dozens of people milled about, some in groups and some not, and there was no sign of the number two hero.

How hard is it to find a guy with wings?

A wave of air brushed against your back, and you whirled around to find Hawks landing on the roof behind you, one almost-silent boot after another. "Didn't feel like coming to say hi?"

Hawks' eyes glided over you, the smirk that formed on his lips born of pure arrogant charm. A breeze pulled through his waves, dragging a few strands across his forehead and visor, the light catching hues of gold.

You shrugged. "Seemed like you had enough company."

Amusement glinted in those sharp eyes as he closed some distance between you. "Jealous, dove? If you want a picture with me you can just ask."

The violence in the glare you shot him was entirely intended. "I'm surprised there's enough room in that head of yours for the impressive ego you're boasting. Be careful or you might run out of space for both that and what I assume is a twelve-step haircare routine?"

For a moment, Hawks only stared at you, mouth slightly agape, and then he burst into laughter. The melody of it unraveled something in you, and you couldn't help the smile that formed on your lips in response. It sounded more genuine than much of what Hawks had given you — or anyone — in awhile. "It's only five steps."

"How exactly did you know I was watching you?" you asked once the amusement faded to a little glow in his eyes. You'd been sure you were moving unnoticed.

Hawks lifted a hand and one of his feathers shot towards him from wherever he was hiding it. The soft crimson brushed against your arm as it passed you, landing softly in his open palm. "I've been more diligent about sending these around me lately. It's a good thing I did, otherwise how would I know you think I'm such a shameless flirt?"

A blush stained your cheeks. "Am I wrong?"

The lop-sided smirk that graced Hawks' lips was just a little wicked. "Believe me, dove, I can do a lot more than that."

You rolled your eyes despite the flare of heat along your body. "I think I got a good enough taste of that back in the club all those weeks ago. I wasn't all that impressed."

This wasn't what you needed. You were trying to convince yourself that infirmary-Hawks was an illusion brought upon by your considerable blood-loss and general exhaustion. This was the same brazen flirtation that had reduced you to mush before. And why — pray tell — could you not keep yourself from goading him on further?

Hawks' brows rose, and that wry smirk grew. "Be careful, or I might think that was a challenge."

You settled your gaze on him, one brow raised. "I think you far overestimate your skills, number two."

The twinkle of amusement in his eyes was so vibrant. "I really don't think that I do."

"I guess we reach an impasse then," you said, swivelling around on the heel of your foot. "Are you coming?"

"Where?" Hawks replied, catching up to you in three long strides.

"Aren't you on patrol?"

Hawks glanced at you side-long, his mouth curved into a small smile. "You're coming on patrol with me?"

You shrugged. "I have nothing better to do right now, and we can watch from up here."

"Nothing better to do?" Hawks repeated, mouth agape. "You really know the way to a man's heart."

The laugh you gave him was soft and airy. "I'm quite happy to stay away from your heart, or is that too much of a foreign concept to you?" You paused, musing. "You should definitely leash that ego of yours, it really is spectacular."

Hawks mimed being stabbed through that same organ you'd just insulted, but he was still smiling, the delight of a challenge in those golden eyes. "You are a wicked thing, aren't you?"

Heat crashed through your body so fast you weren't sure where it originated. It was as if your spine was a lightning rod, and you'd just been zapped with all kinds of energy. There was something about the way he called you wicked that you enjoyed. It appealed to some dark little corner of you. And that word in particular managed to bring back the memory of him leaned over you on that bed, the smell of wind and vanilla invading your senses. It took more effort than it should have to not let any of it show.

"No comment," was all you could manage to say, and Hawks fell into step next to you as you walked over the long, flat rooftop. "How long do you patrol for?"

Hawks shrugged. "A couple hours a day. I don't always have to, I have plenty of sidekicks. I do like getting out to stretch my legs — and wings — when I can though."

You nodded, leaping over the narrow alleyway that sliced between two buildings. One beat of Hawks' wings carried him over the gap as easily as one would take a step.

"You know you're supposed to be watching down below, not looking at me," you said, noticing how those sharp golden eyes were studying you. "Are you still trying to figure me out, number two?"

"Something like that," Hawks replied, a grin playing on his perfect lips.

A sharp yelp and some cursing caught both of your attentions and you cast a glance down to the streets below to see a hooded figure retreating into the maze of alleyways clutching what you assumed was a stolen purse. The hysterical young woman calling after him seemed testament to that.

"Speaking of patrols and number two, I better get going," Hawks said with a devilish wink right before he stepped off the side of the building in a rather dramatic fashion, his wings flaring wide to catch himself as he chased after the thief.

You couldn't help the smile that found its way onto your lips as you watched after him. No wonder he'd gained such rapid popularity, he just dripped in charm. It was so annoyingly alluring even you couldn't deny it.

But besides all that, you weren't intending to sit on your ass until he returned, so you set off into a sprint, leaping between buildings as you also chased the thief. Admittedly, he was rather fast, though it wouldn't take long for Hawks to catch up to him. You had the advantage of the high-ground, and you used it to close in on him as he slid round corners and changed directions to shake off the winged hero on his heels.

"That's right, this way," you muttered to yourself as you began to close in on the thief. He'd taken a series of turns that left him in the perfect position to be intercepted by you, given there was only one route away from Hawks in this section of alleys, and unfortunately that led straight to you.

You slid down a drainpipe onto a balcony and climbed between floors using windows and ledges as footholds before landing on a closed dumpster lid and stepping down onto solid ground. By the time you reached the bottom, you were a little fatigued.

Infinitely harder without being able to use my quirk.

But alas, you'd trained yourself not to be dependent on it, though the last couple of months had left you a little less time for training. You made a mental note to get Toga out to spar again soon.

The thief rounded his last corner, running straight into you. A quick swipe of your feet had him on his ass and you pressed a knife to his throat, daring him to move. "You really picked the wrong day for this, buddy."

Hawks appeared in front of you before the thief could open his mouth to retort. "You beat me."

Your brows raised, a smirk dancing on your lips. "You sound surprised?"

"Not surprised," Hawks said, eyes mischievous. "But I'd enjoy seeing your capabilities with my own eyes next time."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm sure—"

"Oh, thank you!" A female voice interrupted, and you recognised her as the owner of the stolen purse. "I'm so glad you were here!"

Hawks ran a hand through his golden waves, that charming smile reappearing. "You didn't have to follow, I would have brought it back to you."

The woman shrugged shyly. "I didn't know what to do with myself. It's an honour to meet you, Hawks." Her eyes passed from him to you. "And you, thank you so much for helping me. I haven't seen you before, do you have a hero name?"

A hero name?

Some strange, unfamiliar feeling spread through your chest. When had you done something heroic? When had you actually saved someone instead of preventing theoretical danger by way of murdering anyone you were told to? Was this the first time you'd actually been a hero?

The lump that formed in your throat wasn't easily shifted. "I— I'm not—"

"She hasn't made her debut yet," Hawks interjected. "We'd appreciate it if you kept this a secret."

The wink he gave the young woman brought a deep rouge to her cheeks. She bowed low. "Of course! I will remember you both always."

Hawks met your eyes once the woman disappeared and you wanted to open your mouth to thank him, but you couldn't find the words. "My sidekicks will be here to collect this guy soon," he said. "I can wait here if you don't want to be seen."

You nodded, forcing yourself into motion. "Right."

You made it to a junction in the connecting alleyways before you stopped, casting a glance back at Hawks. His gaze met yours, and you realised that he'd been watching every step you took away from him.

Thank him, you begged yourself. But whatever feelings had surfaced were still lodged firmly in your throat.

What you could offer him was a small wave, and you did just that before disappearing into the veins of the city.

Chapter Text

Sleep eluded you.

It didn't matter that you lay flat on your back, your breathing slow and even as you forced your mind through repetitions of loosening each muscle. It had always worked for you before, but not tonight.

You tossed beneath the soft sheets, frustration speeding up that same heart rate you'd been trying to slow for so long already. Why had the simple words of some woman you barely knew cut you so deep? All she'd done was ask you for your name — your hero name. What about that was so difficult to process?

Because I'm not a hero.

The words coiled around your heart like a serpent, slowly starving you of oxygen the tighter it wound. A hero was someone who saved. A hero was someone selfless and brave and compassionate. Not some warped creature that killed so easily and slept so deeply even with all that blood still caked beneath her nails. A hero was someone like him, not you.

They made you into the monster you were. They let you believe in grand notions of heroism — that what you did was for the greater good. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. But in the end it was you who paid the price with your heart — your soul. You would be used until there was nothing left of you to give, and then you'd be discarded, a blunted blade of no worth.

You wanted to scream and cry. Wanted to let all that frustration out but you couldn't. There was nothing left inside of you but hollowness where the brightness of a soul should be. In truth, you'd forgotten how to feel anything at all until...

Until I—

A heavy thud reverberated through the silence, ripping you from the spiral of thoughts you'd fallen into. You slid from your bed, grabbed the knife you kept below your pillow and slowly reached for the handle of your door.

I swear if I need to kill someone wearing a baggy t-shirt and no bra, I give up on existing.

You opened the door, peeking out with only your head before following with the rest of you. Once your eyes landed on the source of the noise, you dropped the knife, letting it clatter against the hardwood floor.

Dabi's eyes whipped to you. Where they were usually so enchantingly bright, they'd dimmed to a mere shadow of themselves. He knelt on the hallway floor, barely clothed, one leg half-up as he tried to stand. And his skin — blood leaked from between scars and once unmarred flesh that was now raw and singed. The sight of it tore something open inside of you.

"What happened?" you said, barely breathing as you dropped to the floor beside him. "Dabi—"

"Leave."

The word was heavy. Commanding. But the pained rasp in his voice rooted you in place. "No."

"I said leave."

Those beautiful blue eyes were on you now, a flicker of that brightness returning. His lips were curled into a sneer, his jaw locked tight. Anger rippled off him in almost tangible waves. But it was those eyes that stopped you from moving even a single inch. They were desperate. Manic. Cruel. And so very very sad. Everything that he tried to hide from you.

"I said no," you spat, reaching for his arm, but he shrugged off the touch. His skin was hot. Too hot. "We need to get you to a healer."

Dabi laughed — the sound so cold and without heart that it frightened you. "There is nothing they can do for me."

It was only then that you understood. The singed skin. The bitter smell of burnt flesh and the heat of him — of his fire. His own quirk had done this — had rendered his own body as if it was incompatible. As if his fire was too hot for him to wield. You'd speculated that much back in Deika city, but seeing it confirmed so brutally with your own eyes was something else entirely.

How is it possible?

There were too many pieces and it was not the time to try and figure out how they fit together.

You reached for him again, tugging on the taut muscle of his bicep. This time, he didn't shake you off, but he didn't move either.

"Leave, Nyx."

He'd only called you by your name once before, and it was in a situation far different to this one. It was one last-ditch attempt to get you to back down, and you just couldn't. Stubbornness or something far more idiotic, it didn't matter. Your heart would never forgive you if you left him as he was.

"Please, Dabi." You begged him, soft and pleading. "Please let me help."

His gaze met yours, and the pain in those bright turquoise eyes cleaved your lying little heart in two.

Dabi didn't say anything in response, but he attempted to stand, leaning against you for support. You had no idea what time it was, nor did you care. The only thing that mattered to you right then was the press of his weight against your body, and the steady rise and fall of his chest as you walked towards his room.

If you were still in denial about what you felt for Dabi, it was a cold slap in the face now as you half-dragged him through the threshold of his bedroom door. The sheer panic that had gripped you when your eyes landed on him was indication enough that the irritating, mildly-brooding villain had indeed stolen a piece of your heart. Your real heart.

"Where are you taking me?" Dabi asked, having the audacity to curl his lips into what looked like a smirk.

"I—" You whipped your head around his room, looking for anything to help. "I don't know. The shower?"

"The shower," he repeated, his hair tickling the side of your face and neck as he turned his full attention towards you. If you weren't high on adrenaline, you might have shivered.

"You're too hot," you argued, pulling him after you. "I need to cool you down."

"Nice to know you think so, princess."

You blew out a heavy breath despite the warmth that flooded your chest at the familiar teasing banter. "Now is not the time for this."

Dabi's words brushed against the side of your face as his head lolled towards you. "I think it's the perfect time."

It took about as much manoeuvring as you thought to lug a half-conscious man who was far larger than you into the small white-walled bathroom. "Can you help me set you down?"

You fought to ignore the ache in your chest that came with every pained wince Dabi made in an effort to sit himself down, back against the tiled shower wall. Even you, so versed in inflicting pain and death on others, could not help the cringe on your lips as you beheld the blood that leaked from between the gaps in his ruined skin and the singed pale flesh so opposed to it.

"What were you doing?" you questioned. "Why did you not take me with you?"

Dabi let his head rest against the wall behind him, his eyes glazed as they gazed up at you. "It doesn't matter now, and I brought Geten with me."

"You took Geten with you and not me?" Your outrage was entirely truthful. "Why? I'm your second, remember? Me."

"You were hurt last time."

Your heart clenched. "And?"

"And I don't need to explain myself."

Irritation flared in you as you knelt down before Dabi, pinning him in place with a glare sharp enough to cut. "You're such a fucking dick. I don't care if you're above me in rank and you can do whatever the fuck you want. I care that you're sitting here half-dead in front of me and I can't stand it. Now let me take this fucking t-shirt off you before I implode."

Said t-shirt was in scraps around his body, blackened and crisped in places but still hanging on for dear life. Dabi chose to comply with his better judgement, only leaning forward slightly so you could pull it off him. But his gaze remained perfectly still on your face. Observing. Waiting. Tracking every furrow in your brow as if piecing together some truth for himself.

You shifted closer to him, your knees tucked beneath you as you tugged the ruined t-shirt from the bottom up, careful as you separated it from the blood it clung to. His scent enveloped you, heady and familiar and so fucking intoxicating that he was all you could think about.

"You said please." Dabi's voice was a mere whisper against your cheek. "It was very unlike you."

"You are hurt," you replied, withdrawing with the scrap of fabric that remained. "And I am not heartless."

He was watching you more intently now, as if somehow the previous just wasn't enough. It was almost too much for you to bare.

"I'm turning the water on," you said, reaching up to twist the handle to cold, desperate to break the tension that had fallen over you both.

"Aren't you getting out?" Dabi asked as your fingers fumbled with the handle.

You only shook your head. If there was one thing you were certain of in that moment it was that your body would not allow you to take one step away from him. There was no lying, then. Not to him, or to yourself. You turned the handle.

Icy water rained down upon you both, soaking the flimsy t-shirt you wore until it clung to you. Dabi's eyes remained on you, his head tilted back as cold water poured over his wounds, washing away the crimson stain until there was none of it left.

You watched as his muscles relaxed, the rigidity washing away along with the blood. Even with all that water running over your face, you didn't dare close your eyes. His breathing evened out next, the overwhelming heat inside of him dissipating before your eyes. Some knot inside of your chest slackened, too.

"Nyx."

He said your name, but it washed away beneath the unending stream of cold.

Cool hands reached for you, sliding over the slick skin of your folded legs to grasp the meat of your thighs. You didn't dare breathe as Dabi pulled you closer to him, deeper into the heart of the pelting rainfall.

He didn't say anything, but you saw a thousand words in those enchanting eyes. Dabi's hands slid from your thighs to your hips, resting over the drenched fabric that was now stuck to your skin. You could see your name in his eyes, hear it falling from his lips even though they hadn't moved. Your foolish, cursed little heart played a beat just for him.

And then he kissed you.

One of his hands previously at your waist was now cupping your face, his thumb tilting your chin up to meet him. The other was fisted in the fabric of your soaked t-shirt, desperate to pull you closer. His mouth slid over yours, gentle yet so utterly consuming your muscles turned loose and compliant to his every whim.

Water poured over you both, but you didn't care. All you could think — all you could feel — was the drag of his lips over yours. Claiming. Destroying. It was manic and desperate and also soft in a way that shattered you.

His tongue swept past your lips, devouring you so completely you could do nothing else but let him. Your fingers knotted into his drenched hair and you wanted so desperately to climb onto him, to let him consume you until every piece of you was branded by his flame. But you couldn't.

Your hand reached up, turning off the stream of icy water as you withdrew from him, letting your forehead rest against his as you fought to catch your breath.

"Now is definitely not the time for this."

A very male smirk curved his lips. "Again, I think it's the perfect time."

"You can't stand by yourself," you deadpanned. "It's most definitely not."

Dabi's lips brushed against yours, and it startled you enough that he captured you again, needy and dominant, and then he had already withdrawn, leaving you tingling in his wake. "Whatever you say, princess."

You shook your head at him, but a smile found its way onto your lips. "Come on, you need to sleep."

You were both half-dressed and dripping with water when you stood up again, pulling Dabi into a standing position. He was mostly capable of moving on his own now, and that knot in your chest has disappeared almost completely.

"There are clothes in that drawer," Dabi said, pointing. "Don't worry, I won't look."

You rolled your eyes at him. "What a gentleman."

You found a large black t-shirt in said drawer, and replaced your soaked one, knowing well if you turned around he'd be looking at you. Once you had gathered enough courage to turn around, you found him in the process of removing his pants.

"I have no problem if you want to look, princess."

You whipped your head away, but the image of his bare torso gleaming with droplets of water while his fingers unbuttoned—

Nope, we're not going there.

"I can control myself," you merely muttered, and Dabi's answering chuckle told you he believed none of that statement. "Are you decent?"

"Always questionable."

You hummed a laugh at that one, turning back to him. He was indeed clothed from the bottom down in a pair of grey sweatpants. His bare chest captured your attention as your eyes roved over every patch of raw red skin. The blood had stopped, at least. Your attention turned to the door.

"Are you leaving?"

You should leave. He was completely fine now, after all. And you had no other reason to stay if you were intent on continuing to ignore the blatantly obvious fact that you cared about him. Not to mention your mission, your status as a double agent and also how becoming closer to him was a sure-fire way of getting caught.

"No."

Irresponsible decisions were becoming a character trait for you.

Dabi's eyebrows raised, a wry smirk playing on his lips despite how his shoulders loosened at your admission. "Oh?"

You glared at him, but your feeble heart picked up its tempo. "Get in the bed and shut up."

He only raised his hands in mock surrender and slid into the bed as you did the same on the other side. Both of you were still half-drenched, hair soaked and skin clammy, but you didn't care all that much. You wouldn't have slept at all if you'd gone back alone.

Dabi's exhaustion was evident the moment he laid himself down to sleep. You watched the tension leak from him as if it was tangible, his breathing falling slow and even before your heart ever stopped hammering.

At some point, he muttered something that sounded a lot like princess and reached for you, pulling you close enough that your head could rest on one arm, while the other fell over your waist. You'd gone so very still in that moment, warring with your own body not to sink into him. Unsurprisingly, you lost.

You studied him, the gentle softness of his otherwise rough features as he slept. Viciously beautiful. A shade of beauty so warped and dark and striking, it could only belong to someone like him. His lashes were long enough that they grazed his cheeks when his eyes were closed, and you'd never noticed that before. Your fingers reached towards him despite better judgement, brushing back strands of his wet hair that had loosed themselves over his forehead.

You couldn't tell how long you lay there. It could have been mere minutes, or far longer. You only knew that sleep came hard and fast, your fingers still knotted in his inky dark hair.

Chapter Text

You'd been staring at your hand for thirty minutes.

When you woke, Dabi was still sleeping next to you, his long arm draped over your side, and it took you quite a while to shimmy out of that hold without waking him. You didn't want to be that person and disappear before he was any the wiser, but so much had happened in the past twelve hours that you needed to figure it out for yourself. And that was when you noticed it.

Your fingers were stained with black.

In some circumstances, it wouldn't even seem that strange. But in this circumstance, given that you'd fallen asleep stroking through his hair, it was more than strange to you.

You'd left right after that, heading back to your room to digest all of the new information you'd acquired. First and foremost was confirmation that Dabi's quirk was not compatible with him, at least not with the heat he wielded it at. And secondly was that he... dyed his hair.

And thus came why you'd ended up sitting cross-legged on your bed, inspecting the inky stain as if it would become sentient and explain this all to you. It wasn't weird that he dyed his hair, it was weird that it wasn't common knowledge, and why? Of course, the main argument was that Dabi was well... Dabi, and he wasn't exactly the most forthcoming with information about himself, trivial or not. But you couldn't help but wonder if it was indeed some kind of secret, and why would he hide something like that unless his identity was the secret he was trying to protect?

It was a rabbit-hole of thought, and you weren't sure what was plausible or not. What kind of colour was his hair if it was that recognisable? Magenta? Lime green? Lilac? And recognisable to who? It wasn't making sense to you, but it was the first crumb of useful information you'd gotten in ages, and with how stubborn and inquisitive you were, there was no way you were going to let it slide without explanation.

You'd pondered it for an hour before you dragged yourself from your room, knowing that there was only one person you could consult with on this little tidbit you'd unearthed.

And it could only be your least favourite ego with wings.

***

It was past midday before you located Hawks, given that you'd slept well into the morning after all that... excitement of last night. You hadn't laid eyes on Dabi before you left, and you were more than happy to deal with that complicated situation later. For now, your mind was wholly occupied with piecing together the puzzle of him. You were doing it for your mission — yes — but also for yourself.

You felt something for him, and there was no amount of denial that could change that. The least you could do was figure out who exactly he is.

The crimson feathers of the number two hero caught your attention first, and you watched over him from your perch high above. It had only been a day since you'd last seen Hawks, and you also weren't hoping you'd have to address your loss of words when that lady had asked you for your hero name. Unfortunately, the winged man was the lesser of two evils in this situation.

Hawks was speaking to who you recognised as the number one hero, Endevour. Beside him were two teenagers you knew as first years from UA. Katsuki Bakugo, who had won the sports festival, and with him was... Izuku Midoriya. Both had been involved in attacks perpetrated by the League of Villains, and you'd studied all available information on them before commencing your infiltration.

The winged hero was chatting animatedly to them all as he handed Endevour a book. You narrowed your eyes at it, familiar with the cover. Always working, aren't you, birdy? You waited another number of minutes, but Hawks was still deep in conversation with the three and you decided to alert him you were near, locating one of his feathers he'd sent around his perimeter as he had just a day ago.

You'd found one lazily coasting through the air along the rooftops high above Hawks, and plucked it from nothing, twirling it between your thumb and forefinger. The eye you kept on Hawks saw him tense immediately, his gaze gliding to the rooftops for the briefest of moments before it returned to his company.

"I need to talk to you." You spoke directly to the feather, your fingers brushing the silky edge. There was no helping it, they were incredibly soft. "Sorry if I startled you."

Hawks did not look back up at the rooftops, but his lips curved up enough that you knew he'd heard you. One of the students, Katsuki Bakugo, had whipped his head right towards you, forcing you to hide yourself. Observant little thing, aren't you? But you'd expect nothing less from a top student of UA.

You waited another minute, then two, as Hawks said goodbye to his companions and began a lazy stroll down the street before taking off, one magnificent wing beat taking him soaring into the sky. He landed on the rooftop before you, a lazy grin on his lips as he sized you up.

"I'm starting to think you can't stay away either, dove."

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

A lop-sided smirk curved his perfect lips, and it annoyed you how alluring that particular expression was on him. "So, what is it you need?"

You chewed on your lip, your thoughts returning to the inky black stain on your fingertips. "What do you know about Dabi?"

Hawks' brows shot up. "I would have thought you'd know more than me."

You ignored the insinuation in those words, given you certainly weren't intending on clarifying your relationship with Dabi to Hawks. Honestly, you would rather step on lego for all eternity than do that. "I have reason to believe he's trying to hide his identity."

Those sharp eyes of Hawks' narrowed slightly. "There isn't much to know about him. He only appeared a number of years ago, joined the League around the time of Stain and committed murders which were easily linked back to him. Why do you think that?"

"I found out he dyes his hair."

One brow quirked up, amusement laced between his words. "Is that all?"

You glared at him. "Don't you find it odd? Changing your hair colour isn't weird, but it's weird that he hides it. I can't help but think it's because he'd be recognisable with his natural colour. Do you think I'm insane?"

Hawks shook his head, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Not insane, no. It's a big conclusion to jump to, but as you've said before, Dabi is smart. I find it difficult to believe anything is a coincidence with him."

"Thank you for the validation." You tossed him a perfect smile. "I was feeling just a little 'tinfoil hat' right there."

Hawks laughed, his wings ruffling. "And what colour is his hair?"

You shrugged. "I don't know."

One brow raised again. "But you know that he dyes it?"

Yes, I know that he dyes it because I dragged his half-dead ass to his bedroom, drowned him in ice water, kissed him and then fell asleep stroking my fingers through his hair.

But of course, you didn't dare breathe that aloud.

"I know that he dyes it," you deadpanned. "And I'm stuck on this conclusion. If he can be recognised, then by who? Because it wouldn't matter what colour his hair is to either of us. And it would still need to be someone he could cross paths with at any moment."

Hawks dragged a hand through his golden waves as he thought. "You make a valid point, but I know as much as you. Why do you need to know? It likely won't help us."

The words were a test, and you were more than aware that Dabi's identity mattered little in the grand scheme of things. Regardless, you needed to know for no-one if not yourself.

"There's just something missing, and it might not matter at all, or it might be a key to this. Either way, I'm going to try and find the truth."

Hawks' eyes glided over you, and you cursed how well he hid himself because you could not read a thing. "Have you considered that Dabi doesn't trust you?"

Your gaze floated to your hand, where the ghost of that inky black still remained even though you'd scrubbed it from your skin. "Dabi doesn't trust anyone, not truly."

And neither did you.

You'd returned your attention to Hawks when a flash of light dragged your gaze elsewhere. The sun was shining brightly from behind you, its rays reflecting off glass. No, not just glass. A lens.

You launched yourself forward without a second of hesitation.

In the distance, a tall office block in construction offered the perfect perch for the poor unfortunate soul who'd taken on the job of spying on you — or Hawks. Despite not having use of your quirk, you made it across buildings in mere seconds. After all, if your cover was blown, the fire under your ass now would be very, very real.

You used the momentum from your full sprint to throw yourself over a wide alleyway, through the windowless gap in the concrete shell of the building. Hawks was likely close behind you, probably wondering if you had indeed gone insane, but you didn't dare stop for a single second.

Hurried footsteps clattered downstairs, your target fleeing from the high floor he'd been hiding on. Bet you're wishing there's an elevator now. You half-slid down steps, your ankles protesting the barrage, but you were so close now.

The man — a low-rank villain you recognised from the Paranormal Liberation Front headquarters — had made it to the first floor before you caught up to him. You watched his eyes widen with fear as they beheld you. Smart. He threw out his quirk, a cloud of smoke enveloping your vision, but a last-ditch attempt on slowing you was futile.

It took you approximately three seconds to locate him in the smoke, and another two to drag your knife across his throat before he had the chance to beg you not to. His body fell at your feet in a wet thud, the smoke just beginning to dissipate.

Hawks soared in through a window, likely alerted to your exact presence by the smoke now clearing completely, and landed on his feet beside you. His sharp eyes glided over the limp man at your feet, then slid to the bloodied knife in your hand and finally to your face, which was so perfectly blank even he could not read you.

"Paranormal Liberation Front?" Hawks asked and you only nodded.

The winged hero bent down to pick up the camera that had clattered to the floor along with the body and flicked through the most recent pictures.

"Caught red-handed," Hawks said, blowing out a heavy breath. "These would have gotten us both killed. There are no pictures from before today of us both, only of me."

Finally, you looked at him. "I considered I wouldn't be the only person watching you. It seems I was right."

"And I was right that Dabi doesn't trust you," Hawks added as he flicked through some more photos of himself, clearly annoyed he'd missed that he was being watched.

"Maybe." You shrugged. "Maybe not."

Dabi was intelligent, and he was also a lieutenant. It would be in his best interests to have multiple people watching over Hawks — given how little he trusted him. You would do the same if you were in his shoes. But you had to admit, it stung just a bit that he hadn't informed you of anyone else tailing Hawks.

Your attention returned to the corpse at your feet, a pool of blood now forming around the throat you'd so easily slit. The knife in your hand felt like a burden more than it ever had before. "I'm tired of this... killing. How am I any better than them?"

Those bright golden eyes found yours, Hawks' attention wholly on you now. "You're not, someone has to be worse."

A bubble of warped laughter left your lips. You weren't sure what you were expecting, some poor attempt at comfort, perhaps? But not him telling you the truth in all its brutal, soulless glory. "Remind me not to come to you if I require optimism of any kind."

Hawks' mouth curved into a smile, though it was as warped as yours was. "I can't lie to you, otherwise I'd be lying to myself, too."

He had always been a mirror of you — of the blackness inside you — and you'd once wanted nothing more than to know him, if only so you wouldn't be so terribly alone.

You met his gaze completely, and you realised that so many shades of gold swam in those depthless eyes of his. They were molten ore, full of impurities, and undeniably more beautiful for it. "Do you feel like you will always be... stained? That there will forever be that monster underneath your skin?"

Hawks' eyes never wavered from yours. "Every day."

The admission felt like a blow to the chest. For so long, you were drowned by this. For so fucking long, you were convinced that you were a creature with no heart — no soul. That you could not feel. You were so isolated from everything and everyone, and even if you tried to be someone else, no-one could ever understand you. No-one could ever see that blackness inside you and not run from it. Not unless they were just as broken.

Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away, leashing your emotions before the winged hero could see beneath that final, immovable mask. "One day," you promised. "One day I will be more than this."

Those lovely golden eyes of his softened. "One day we both will, dove."

Hawks had lifted a hand, almost as if he wanted
to reach for you, but dropped it just as quickly. His gaze never moved from you, though, and you hated how it always seemed to lay you so very bare.

You returned your attention to the corpse before you, this time without so much heaviness in your chest. "So, how exactly do we get rid of a body?"

Hawks shrugged. "I've never really had to figure that out, you know, while being a hero..." He trailed off.

You chewed on your lip. "Well, we need to figure something out."

"We do."

"It would be best if he isn't found any time soon, let the villains think he chickened out and ran off."

"Agreed."

You turned to Hawks, brows raised. "So? Any ideas?"

Hawks only shrugged again, his eyes glittering with some version of warped amusement. Even you could see the humour in how ridiculous this situation had become. Still, one of you had to figure out what to do.

"Fantastic," you deadpanned. "Will you at least help me?"

"Of course, dove."

Chapter Text

You'd kept some distance between you and Hawks in the days after you'd both... disposed of that villain stalker beneath ten feet of concrete in the bowels of a construction site. If you wanted to keep your life, he needed to remain disposed of, though you were almost certain you'd managed to rid yourself of that possibility for good. Even with the pitiful attempt Hawks made at aiding you with the task.

If anything, the time spent with the number two hero had allowed you to put some plans in motion to determine Shigaraki's location, and hence where to strike first before these four months came to a conclusion. Hawks was trusted enough to walk around the headquarters without issue — even if that trust was rather fragile. With the combination of both of your extensive skill sets, you were confident you could gather the necessary information, as long as you kept well away from Dabi while doing it.

You hadn't seen Dabi since that fateful encounter just a few nights ago, and the more time that passed since it happened made it all the more difficult to face him again. Even with your feelings aside, ditching him before he even had the chance to wake up was a shitty move.

You groaned aloud, raking your fingers down your face. Never had you needed to deal with such complicated feelings before, and it was so fucking terrible you had no intention of ever doing it again.

Why are the villains always so attractive?

It was an age-old question and a plague on your existence. Only the heroes were just as alluring, too.

"I sensed some turbulence in you," Compress said, appearing before you with a tray. "I made tea."

You sat up, offering him a weak smile as you made some room for him to share the sofa with you. "Thanks Compress."

Indeed, you had been agonising on the couch in the League's communal area for too long already, given how easily Compress picked up on it. You'd been waiting for Toga, but she was apparently off with Twice somewhere and you were in desperate need of a distraction. Spinner, the only other member in the room, was engrossed in whatever manga he was reading and paid no attention to either of you.

Compress, clad in his balaclava only, settled his warm brown eyes on you as he handed you a steaming porcelain teacup. "Is this about Dabi?"

The abruptness of his question startled you, and you hissed as a drop of scalding tea dripped over your hand. "Why would you think that?"

The showman scrunched his nose. "You both are far less inconspicuous than you think."

You sipped at your tea, studying your companion over the white rim. "It's complicated."

"It rather always is with him," Compress sighed. "Frankly, I don't understand the allure. He is brooding, unrefined and terribly difficult to have a conversation with."

Your lips curved into a smile. "And here I thought you were about to give me a pep-talk on relationships."

The magician snorted. "I would not do you the disservice."

You grinned, then. "Ouch. I guess your opinion of him is clear."

Compress sipped at his tea, his brown eyes sweeping over you. "Alas, there must be some redeeming qualities in him to attract such a magnetic personality as yourself."

You laughed softly. "You certainly know how to flatter a lady, don't you?"

The showman winked. "If you would prefer more civilised company, I am always available to share a pot of tea."

"I appreciate that," you replied, smiling. "Though I'm not sure Dabi would like it very much."

The door had opened at the exact moment you said that name, and the villain-in-question strode in, setting his piercing eyes on you. "What wouldn't I like?"

The teacup — still rather hot — wobbled precariously in your fingers as your heart thrummed into a furious beat. He looked... well, he looked good. His long coat was tucked into his arm, and the white t-shirt that clung to his slightly damp, freshly-washed skin surfaced memories you'd rather keep buried. He ran a hand through his dark hair, revealing a strip of skin and a defined torso that had you tearing your gaze away to stop a blush from forming.

I need a cold shower.

When it became apparent that you'd lost the ability to speak, Compress filled the silence. "I suggested that Nyx surround herself with more sophisticated company."

Dabi snorted, one eyebrow raised. "We'll see about that." He jerked his head at you. "I need you tonight."

It was a command, plain and simple, and some depraved part of you itched to obey it. Given the mischievous gleam in his eye, he wanted just that, too. And the way he said he needed you made your skin burn just a little hotter. But you locked your limbs and forced yourself to remain seated. "Will I require my knives?"

He only nodded, his gaze devouring you as if waiting to see how long it would take for you to go to him.

You sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll finish my tea and find you then."

A smirk tugged at the edge of Dabi's mouth. "We're leaving in fifteen minutes."

He spun on his heel and left the room too quickly for you to even scowl at his back. You merely returned your attention to the teacup in your hands, your weak heart still hammering.

"I wish you luck," was all that Compress said, and you couldn't help but echo the sentiment.

"I will need it."

And so you finished your tea.

***

Dabi was waiting for you by the entrance to the mansion, leaning against a wall by the door, his gaze flicking from villain to villain as they milled about the foyer. You'd been half-expecting to find him outside with a cigarette hanging from his lips, but instead, his piercing turquoise eyes sought you out the moment you came into view, and your feeble heart swept itself into a furious beat.

Neither of you had acknowledged what happened only a few nights previous, but it seemed apparent what memories were swimming in that captivating gaze of his as he beheld you.

Is he upset I disappeared? Does he suspect I know something? Does he remember what I said...?

Ah, yes. That. How you'd all but said outright that seeing him hurt had carved your chest open and squeezed at that weak-willed organ that was beating so violently now, and how you needed to help him because you couldn't stand it. And there was no forgetting how you'd stayed beneath that frigid water with him and how he had kissed you so tenderly it shattered you still.

I can't survive this today.

"You're two minutes early," Dabi stated as you finally made it to him, a smirk coiled on those pretty two-tone lips.

You scowled at him. "You didn't leave me much time."

Those bright eyes glimmered with cocky amusement. "Or maybe that sophisticated company wasn't enough for you, was it, princess?"

On second thought, maybe I can survive this today.

You leveled him with a gaze sharp enough to cut. "Jealous, Dabi?"

A rumble of dark laughter left him, and his gaze was so piercing you could barely stand to hold it. He leaned closer to you, enough that his words were a soft breath on your skin. "You can pretend if you want, but not Compress, not Geten, no one has a chance with you. Or have you forgotten so quickly that you're mine?"

Air flowed into your lungs in a sharp gasp, and the heat that flooded your skin was hot enough that it could have been his very own fire infecting your blood.

Sometimes you forgot what exactly Dabi was. How his status as a villain was so overlooked by you because that was what you surrounded yourself with for this mission. But there was no forgetting that wickedness in him now. No forgetting that darkly possessive nature that had your toes curling in their boots, and your skin flushing more crimson than... wings?

No one has a chance with you.

Your eyes focused again, and despite how your head emptied at the sight of that arrogant smirk on his alluring face, you pulled every stray piece of yourself back together. "I guess I did forget, it must not have been all that memorable after all."

Maybe the saccharine smile you forced onto your lips was more convincing than your words.

"Liar."

Or maybe it was not.

You glared at him. "And you're an insufferable prick."

Dabi only laughed again, and you loathed how much you adored that sound. "We need to go, princess." He offered you a hand, which you accepted with only slight hesitation.

Both of you were enveloped in darkness before the world opened up again and you were standing in an alleyway in the city, the shadows of late evening curling around your shoes. "You never did tell me what we're doing."

He let go of your hand, and you missed the contact as soon as it was gone. "I have to meet with some pretty bad people, and I need you to watch my back."

"Not Geten this time?" you teased.

Dabi glanced side-long at you. "I'd rather not put my life in his hands."

But you'd put it in mine? Something misguided swelled in your chest. Maybe Hawks was wrong, and he does trust me.

"What do you need me to do?"

Dabi swept his gaze over you, noting every place you'd slotted a knife. "I need you to stay hidden unless it goes badly. These people are remnants of the worst kind of mafia, and they're going to help by sewing discord with the public through targeted attacks. That's what they're getting paid for, but it doesn't mean I trust them."

The gravity in his voice sent a chill down your spine, but you shrugged it off. "I've dealt with worse, I'll—"

"You'll stay in your shadows," Dabi interjected. "If I can deal with it by myself I will."

Your chest constricted at the command in his tone, and also... whatever other emotion was swirling in those beautiful eyes as they swept over you. "Okay," you agreed. "And where is this meeting taking place?"

"We're almost there," Dabi replied, his voice growing lower as his eyes darted all over the alleys and streets around. "It's a warehouse nearby. It should be a good place for your quirk."

You'd never seen him so... cautious before. It was enough to make you nervous. And it was clear that he'd thought this through. Knew where best your quirk could be used to full effect, yet it was also apparent he would rather you'd stayed back at the headquarters if he hadn't needed you.

"I'll stay as close to you as I can," you said, feeling the thrum of power surfacing beneath your skin. "See you soon."

And then you vanished.

To him, you were gone without a single trace, but in truth, you remained by his side. Your quirk let you see the world from within your shadows as if you were gazing through a smoky window. You could still feel your body, and yet it was also dissipated amongst the darkness surrounding you.

Dabi didn't look anywhere but straight ahead as he strode toward the large warehouse. The doors were wide open and you couldn't help but feel he was walking into the mouth of a beast.

Inside was pitch black save for an ominous light at the furthest end of the warehouse, and you slithered through the shadows along the darkest edges, your body tense as you noted every entrance and exit. The air felt thicker here. Wrong.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dabi."

The voice belonged to a humongous man who stepped out from the darkness and into the light at the far end. He was thick and muscled with a gravelly voice and enough gnarly scars on his face that you silently cringed. A power-based quirk, maybe? He was flanked at either side by two more men, one with a dog-like quirk and the other was a thin, spindly man with a very sharp-looking knife in his hand. Four more men appeared from the shadows, taking their places to surround Dabi once he got close enough.

I don't like this.

Dabi, it seemed, was incredibly adept at looking unfazed by his complete outnumbering by many very large men, given the sneer that curled his lip as he surveyed them. His hands were dug into his pockets, and his stride was the epitome of lazy arrogance as he made his way to them.

"You sure brought a lot of friends with you, Hami." Dabi spoke. "It almost seems like you don't trust us."

The leader amongst them, Hami, only smiled. The sight unnerved you. "I'm surprised you didn't."

Dabi only shrugged, a darkly wicked grin on his lips. "What do I have to fear from you?"

You had to admit, he had more balls than you ever could in this scenario, though you'd much prefer he kept his mouth shut so your poor heart could stop hammering so fucking hard. You moved closer to the edge of their conversation, close to where the light ended. The man with the canine quirk, and also the other, both had flashlights hanging from their belts, you noted. If those came anywhere near where you were hiding, you'd be severely fucked.

Hami laughed. "I'm well aware of your capabilities, Dabi. Let's hope that arrogance doesn't cost you your life someday."

His words were a threat, and you noticed the tense in Dabi's stance as he understood it, too. Unconsciously, you moved a little closer to him.

The man with the dog-like quirk whipped his head towards you — towards Dabi — and you almost leaped from your shadows at how he narrowed his eyes and sniffed at the air from his long snout.

A searching quirk? You stopped breathing. It can't be me he's scenting, can it?

No, that couldn't be it. Once you became shadow, you were no longer corporeal. There was nothing of you lingering to be picked up on.

Dabi shot the canine man a glare and reached into his long overcoat to retrieve a fat envelope. He tossed it on the concrete before him, a resounding slap sounding through the otherwise tense silence.

"Is that all?" Hami asked through gritted teeth. "That is not what we agreed on."

Dabi shrugged again, looking entirely too bored for how precarious this situation was. "It's a portion of it, enough for you to complete the task. The remainder will come once we're satisfied you can deliver what you promised."

Hami's face was purpling at an alarming rate, and you backed away from Dabi to move within range of their leader. If he decided to do anything, you needed to be close enough to strike. "That wasn't our deal."

Dabi only smirked. "It's business."

The dog-man was sniffing again, but this time his attention was unmistakably on you. His canine eyes whipped around, searching for you though he could not see you. You stopped breathing. Stopped moving. Shit. There wasn't even a second for you to flee when he flicked on his flashlight and pointed it directly at you.

You tumbled abruptly from your shadows, landing hard on the concrete ground before you. You let out a yelp as someone — two someones — grasped your arms and tugged you up. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Your gaze found Dabi first, and you saw the sparks of blue igniting at the tips of his fingers, his mouth pressed into a thin, brutal line. You only shook your head, urging him to wait.

"Who is this?" Hami asked, sounding more than delighted by the turn of events. "Is this your protection? What an interesting quirk she has. Is it darkness you hide within?"

You ignored his questions, and so did Dabi, given how his attention was solely on you and the humanoid dog that was approaching you.

"Let her go," you heard Dabi say, but your eyes were now fixed on the scarred snout and dark-brown eyes of the creature that found you.

"Nothing can hide from my nose," he said as he finally reached you, bending down on his hind legs, his long fluffy tail curving around his body. "You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?"

Shock and disgust roiled through you as his long, pink tongue darted out and licked up the side of your face. "Sweet, too."

You were moving before you could even think, anger and horror jerking you away from your captors. You kicked and clawed, brandishing knives that were removed from your grip by the three men forcing you into submission. Your chin scraped against the concrete as they shoved you down.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The voice came from their leader. You hadn't realised, but Dabi was already halfway to you, his jaw locked and fists clenched. Pure fury burned like an inferno in those crystalline blue eyes. He was halted by the words, but his eyes remained on you.

"Touch her again," Dabi said, low and vicious. He was looking at the dog-quirk now. "And I will turn you to fucking ash."

Your captors had the good sense to loosen their grip on you.

"Let her up," Hami said, and you were pulled to your knees. "We're all friends here."

Dabi reluctantly peeled his gaze from you, returning it to their leader. The heat in his glare burned hotter than the pits of hell. "Release her."

The staring contest that commenced between the two men raised the hairs on your arms to a stand. It was Hami who broke first with a grin. "As you wish." He motioned to his men, and the hands subduing you relented.

You sprang to your feet, grasping your knives in each hand. You pointed one at the man that licked you in a deadly promise. "You're going to regret that."

"Quite the spitfire you've got there, Dabi."

Dabi's attention was wholly on you, and your knees almost buckled as he met you halfway, grasping you by the arm to tug you behind him, placing himself firmly as a barrier between you and all others.

"You've got what you need," Dabi spat as he returned his gaze to Hami. "We're leaving. I'd suggest not testing me any further or you won't like what comes next."

The leader merely waved a hand in dismissal. "Leave if you wish."

Dabi turned on his heel, dragging you along with him. His grip on your forearm was tight, the only indication that he did indeed feel a shred of fear.

"But."

You both halted.

"I'll be expecting the rest of what you owe us in the next couple of days." Hami's voice was laced with amusement. "You wouldn't want that lovely girl of yours to go missing, would you?"

You could feel the fire rising within him, untamed and furious. He was a second away from snapping and turning the entire place to cinders. And god you wanted him to. You wanted to see them all burn right alongside him with your blade buried firmly in the chest of that dog. But now was not the time.

Neither of you looked back to deign him with an answer, but the understanding was clear.

Dabi would give him what he wanted.

Chapter Text

Neither of you said a word as you left that warehouse, placing a respectable distance between both of you and the gangsters left inside. Dabi let go of your wrist once you stopped walking, and began pacing back and forth across the narrow alleyway.

His anger was palpable, and the tips of his fingers formed licks of blue flame that were gone in an instant. He was fighting for control, and quickly losing. "I'm going back."

You reached for him, grasping his coat to tug him to a stop again. "No, you're not."

Dabi's jaw tensed. "Get out of my way."

Your own temper was beginning to flare. "Don't speak to me like that."

Dabi shook off the hold you had on him and attempted to step past you, which you stopped with a firm hand on his chest. "Don't, princess. Not now."

You placed your other hand on his chest, meeting his cold, brutal gaze. "Please. You have to leave it be for now."

His lips curved in cruel amusement, then. "Did you think that was going to work?"

The sting of rejection was a tragic accompaniment to the fear beating through you. You pressed your lips into a thin line. "Be a dick if you want to, but you're not going back in there. I don't give a shit if you're angry. Show some control."

"Show some control?" Dabi echoed with a cold, mocking laugh. "I think I exercised enough control when you were..." His jaw ticked. "When they had you."

"I am fine," you argued. "I have been in far worse situations before."

His gaze cut through you, right down to your vicious, lying heart. "That's not the point."

"Then what is?" You threw up your arms in question. "What could be gained by going back there, hm?"

He tried to push past you again, but you blocked him. "There'll be nothing left of them, that's what."

You shoved him back, hard enough that he stumbled. "Why are you doing this? I understand you're angry but there's six of them and one of you."

"Why am I doing this?" He ran a hand over his face, disbelief painted across his ruined skin. "Why am I doing this?"

There was a manic gleam in his eyes. A wildness that only came from villainy. From the warped, twisted, and dark emotions of someone cursed to feel nothing else.

"I don't... I don't know the depth of your feelings for me," you spoke slowly, heart hammering. "But I'm telling you that I don't want this."

"My feelings for you?" Dabi had stopped moving. Stopped protesting. His attention was wholly on you now, but his face was a mask of pure nothingness. "This has nothing to do with you."

You flinched as if you'd been slapped, but your own temper kept you rooted in place, your mouth curling into a cruel smile. "Liar."

Because you of all people knew what a lie was. What it tasted like. What it felt like as it brushed over your skin. You had lied and lied and lied until you couldn't tell what the truth was anymore. You would lie until you took your last breath.

One moment you were standing, and the next you were pressed against the brick alley wall, Dabi's fingers digging into your shoulders. His eyes held the heat of the flames he itched to release. "I cannot feel, so why would you think that I do for you?"

The words hit their intended target, carving your chest open slice by slice. But even so, you remained, your gaze as cold as ice as you stared at him. "You are a liar."

A bubble of laughter left him, and he released you, raking his fingers through the hair you knew was a lie, too. He was bordering on hysteria, and you knew he was warring with himself — with whatever darkness had consumed him. It was then that you wished you could know what made him this way, if only so you could understand.

One hand collided with the wall above your head, and you didn't even bother flinching. He hung his head, his face mere inches from your own. "I can't even cry, how can I feel anything for you?"

Whether that question was directed at you, or himself, you didn't have the heart left to try and answer. Your chest was wide open, your most fragile part so utterly exposed.

"How could I?" His free hand rose to glide across your jaw, sliding along until he reached your chin, where the rough pad of his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. The action was a complete contradiction to the words that left his mouth. "You can't change anything."

That same hand descended the slope of your throat, brushing over the most sensitive skin before running along your collarbones. You gave him one second. Two. Enough time for you to feel the touch, and enough time for you to muster the courage to slap his hand away.

"Burn them all," you spat, your wounds finally bleeding. "Die there for all I care. I am done with this."

You shoved past him, but he caught your wrist, halting you. "I thought you were adamant to stop me?"

You ripped your arm from his grasp, meeting his fiery gaze with the icy coldness of your own, your lips curved into a cruel little smirk. "It has nothing to do with me, remember?"

The hurt was as a reminder that whatever you felt for him was doomed to ruin. His denial was a mirror of your own, his lies a harmony to yours. Maybe for him, his supposed inability to feel could not be overcome by whatever it was between you. And maybe your admittance to feeling something for him was not enough to stop you from ceasing the same heart you now coveted.

Dabi reached for you again, the flame in his eyes dimmed to mere embers, but you stepped away before he could touch you again, and vanished into darkness.

***

The whiskey burned a path of delicious heat down your throat. It was the only thing that was keeping you grounded in the present, and not in the tornado of thought currently swirling in your mind. You'd made a game of heisting a very nice bottle from a bar frequented by less-than-desirable members of society to distract yourself, but it was far too easy for you, and then you needed to find a place to drink it. Your choice was a selfish one.

You weren't sure what carried you to the top of Hawks' apartment block, just that you'd lost the sense required to stop yourself from going there. You could have gone back to your own apartment, there was a chance that Dabi might have come back looking for you there, but alas, you chose a pitch-black rooftop over a shimmering city below, waiting for the inevitable moment that Hawks would find you.

The more you drank, the less you seemed to care about how stupid your choices were. Both the ones that brought you to Hawks' roof, but also the ones that made you lose a piece of your heart to a villain. A villain that happened to be just as broken as you inside, only in ways you weren't allowed to know. Just as he could not know you.

The anger came first. That pure, unrelenting fury at how Dabi had acted. How could he shut you down so coldly? How could he claim he felt nothing when it was clear he wanted you to want him? It was a complete mind-fuck, and the anger burned so relentlessly you thought you might burst into flame just like him. But then came the sadness — the waves of despair — echoed by the silence, surrounding your foolish, bruised heart.

It hurt more than you cared to admit. For so long you'd barely felt anything, and now there was too much. There wasn't enough space in you for all those emotions, they didn't fit properly without stretching that sorry organ that was cracked and bleeding now. How could you have allowed yourself to be so weak in front of him? How could you wear your heart so utterly exposed and risk the rejection that would so easily shatter it? And you had been rejected, your chest a void where all those new emotions once hid. You felt nothing now but a pressing, unending loneliness.

You finished half the bottle before you realised, the whirring of engines and chatter of people a sad accompaniment to your pity-party-for-one. At least, you decided, the whiskey was good.

"Hello, dove."

You hadn't heard him approach, but the ruffle of his wings as he tucked them in told you he'd just landed, having probably spotted you from the air. You leaned your head back, tossing him a smile that was just a little bit sad.

Hawks eyed the half-empty bottle clutched in your hand, his brows drawing together. "Are you o—"

"I'm afraid of heights, you know," you said, cutting him off. "Well, I once was. It was trained out of me so thoroughly I can sit here now and not need to move. I still feel the fear though, that never went away."

The winged hero watched you so intently, then. As if he wasn't sure how to act, as if he'd even forgotten how to breathe. The shadows blanketed him, bringing forth every sharp, beautiful edge of him that was otherwise washed away in the light. He was more like you this way. The dark was where you both stopped pretending.

"Can I sit?" Hawks asked, and you nodded. He took the place to your left, his wing brushing against your arm.

Even in your inebriation, you could smell the air and vanilla off him. Maybe because of your inebriation. He was so beautiful, it almost hurt. Beautiful, arrogant hero.

"Will you tell me why you're here, dove?"

For a moment, you'd forgotten that you were drowning. And even that fleeting of relief was a gift. "I just... didn't want to be alone tonight."

"Did something happen?"

You twisted to face him, meeting those pretty golden eyes. He was striking against a deep navy sky. "I don't want to think about it anymore. Will you... will you keep me company while I drink myself stupid? I'd really appreciate it."

A smile tugged at the edge of Hawks' lips. "Of course, dove."

"Thank you," you said, sipping at the bottle. "I don't know why I came here, I just... did. So if you had other plans, now is your chance to leave."

His golden eyes looked almost black beneath the night. "I'm not going anywhere."

Warmth flooded your chest, and you weren't sure if it was him or the liquor. Most likely both.

"Okay good, because I don't intend to move."

A breath of laughter left him then, and you couldn't help but adore the sound. You couldn't help but adore how his eyes drank you in, either. Or how beautiful he looked in the darkness. It almost pained you to know it. But you wouldn't reach for him. Not even to run your fingers over those magnificent wings. You would not do that to him, not when you were so clearly spiraling and hurting because of what you felt for...

No more.

But there was something enchanting about him, then. Something innate and undeniable.

"What did you think of me when you first saw me?" you asked him, your gaze skyward. "I'd seen you many times before. In truth, you were everything that I wanted to be, but I never got a chance to try. The perfect hero."

"I thought you were beautiful," Hawks replied, his eyes on the sky, too. "And vicious. And smart. And strong."

A blush stained your cheeks. "You got all that from just seeing me with Dabi, as a villain?"

"I'm a good judge of character," Hawks replied, tossing you an easy smile. "And you have this way about you that commands attention."

You snorted. "Like hell."

He was looking at you now, his lips curved into a wicked grin. "It's true. And as for me, I'm not the perfect hero. Far from it."

You met his gaze. "I'm starting to understand that kind of perfection isn't possible, but I still believe you're pretty close."

Hawks' eyes twinkled. "Careful, dove. I thought you wanted to stay away from my heart?"

You rolled your eyes. "I see the shameless flirt has returned."

"With you near, I can't help myself."

You laughed despite the heaviness in your chest and lifted the bottle to your lips. Hawks watched the motion, his eyes shadowed yet curious. He was likely trying to figure out what drove you to this state, not that you intended to say. "Do you want some? It's actually not completely awful."

Hawks shook his head, lips curved slightly. "Who's going to make sure you get off this roof if we're both drunk?"

Amusement bubbled through you. "Are you my designated flyer?"

The winged hero smiled so brightly, it ached for you to see it. "You're going to let me fly you down?"

You spluttered. "Hell no."

His soft laughter carried you someplace else, somewhere better. "If I took you tonight you probably wouldn't remember it, and I'd just have to do it when you're sober, too."

You gasped, offended. "I would remember it! I can handle my liquor."

Hawks threw up his hands in surrender, amusement twinkling in those pretty eyes. "How about you come out with me some time and we'll see?"

Shameless fucking flirt.

That bruised, silly little heart of yours skipped more than a few beats. "Is this your way of trying to get me back into that club?"

His gaze was lazy arrogance, and it infuriated you how alluring you found it. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

You only smiled. "We'll see."

Hawks' gaze flicked to your lips before moving elsewhere. "Wicked thing."

Silence fell between you, but it was the kind without pressure. Comfortable. You took that moment to study him. How the shadows curved with his golden waves. How his eyes looked so dark beneath the night despite how in the day they shone like molten metal. He had been in your mind for years, always eluding you, physically and in his accomplishments. And now it was different. Everything in your life was different.

"I wonder what my life might have been like if I was allowed to know you sooner," you said, half to him but half to yourself. "I would have liked to... to not be so alone."

Hawks' eyes softened, and he reached for you before either of you registered it, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. The touch was so gentle, it sliced you wide open once again. He retracted his hand almost immediately, something akin to panic flaring in those pretty eyes of his.

He had never touched you before, not like that. Not with such familiarity when the height of your interactions were teasing banter. Even that day in the infirmary, he hadn't laid a hand on you. You could do nothing else but stare at him, your heart hammering against your ribs.

And why did you want him to touch you again?

No. You were confused and drunk. Not to mention the emotional turmoil that came from your last interaction with... with that person. It wasn't fair for you to want that, not when your feelings were so knotted up. Not when you weren't sure what you truly wanted.

You stood up so fast you swayed. "I need to get back to my apartment."

You were standing on the ledge, preparing to take a step off and disappear into your shadows when Hawks' hand grasped your wrist and tugged you down. The surprise of it had you tumbling off the ledge and straight into his chest. He steadied you by wrapping his arms around you. "I'd really rather you didn't do that right now."

He smelled of vanilla and citrus and the sky, it was more intoxicating than the alcohol you'd consumed. He wasn't planning on letting you go, not until you decided it. And god he was warm. His beautiful wings curved around you like a shield that protected you from the world. You didn't want to push away, but you had to. "I can use my quirk! I'm not having you fly me right now."

Hawks' soft laughter skittered over you. "There are stairs. We'll take the stairs."

"Oh." There was distance between you. Sweet, restraining distance. "That's okay then. Let's go."

And so Hawks remained by your side for just a little bit longer.

Chapter Text

Toga's knife glinted with the same dangerous gleam that was in her eyes as she lunged for you. She had gotten better in the past weeks. Stronger. More refined and careful in her every move. You spun away from her attack, jabbing your fist into her ribs. She cried out at the connection but steeled herself before another moment passed.

It had been two days since your... altercation with Dabi. And two days since you'd gotten incredibly wasted and decided to spend your self-destructive spiral with Hawks. You hadn't seen either of them since, but it seemed especially true that the former was so obviously avoiding you. Whatever sadness had gripped you over it had festered into a pure, unrelenting rage and you desperately needed an outlet.

And that was when you'd sought out Toga.

It had been too long since you'd spent any time with her, given it was now monopolised by her position within the organisation. But you'd also neglected her in favour of your own dramas, and you were more than apologetic as you begged her to spar with you. She'd happily agreed, but not before pestering you about Dabi and the obvious fight you'd had. You gave nothing away.

The training gym was a large open room with lacquered wooden flooring covered in mats. You weren't the only people there. In fact, many of the villains in the compound seemed to use it to keep themselves in shape. Nevertheless, they seemed to stop and watch the deadly dance you performed as Toga lunged for you again and again.

You had become another monster entirely when you stepped onto that mat. Every poisonous ounce of hurt and rage in you was channelled into perfect, fluid motions. You struck cleanly and ferociously and left no room for counter. Toga hadn't even landed a hit on you. Sweat beaded at her forehead while you hadn't shown a single ounce of exertion.

This dance was yours, deadly and beautiful, but it was only a shadow of what you could truly do. Toga could not match your ferocity with brutal grace, she did not have the capabilities yet. And how you burned to unleash every part of yourself and bask in the calamity that would surely follow. This was the creature that lurked within you. The creature that needed release.

And then your heart stopped beating entirely when Dabi entered the room.

Geten was at his side, pointing around the room at the various groups that were sparring. Dabi saw you, it was painfully obvious. But he didn't look at you. Those bright eyes of his glossed right over you as if you were nothing, as if you meant nothing. That poisonous anger bubbled up inside of you, filling your chest with its bitterness.

How dare he? How dare he ignore me?

Toga had tracked your eyes, had seen the flush of anger pinking your skin and dragged your attention to her instead. "How about we take a break? Sit."

You followed her instruction, taking the bottle of water she handed to you. Oh, you were furious. You wanted to flay him until he begged for your forgiveness. How dare he reject you? How dare he make you feel for the first goddamn time and spit on it as if it was nothing? You wanted to take it all back. You wanted to tell the foolish girl who thought infiltrating the League would be a simple job that she needed to be stronger, or she would lose something vital and precious. And god, you fucking hated losing.

"Whatever happened, it will be okay," Toga said, her brows drawn together in worry at the rage you so clearly wore. "You know what he's like. What you're both like."

You flicked your gaze to her. "What do you mean?"

Toga shifted away, almost as if she was speaking to an unpredictable, wild animal and not a person. "You are both so stubborn and volatile. And that's totally fine, look at me." She flashed her teeth in a feral smile. The sentiment didn't make you feel any better. "But what I'm saying is you'll figure it out. You always do."

"Not this time," you half-hissed through gritted teeth. "I'm not saying a fucking word to him. If he wants to act this way, then so be it. I won't offend my eye-line with the sight of him any more."

Amusement curved Toga's mouth, but she bit down on her bottom lip to stifle it. "If you say so." She stretched out her arms, yawning softly. "But neither of you can stay away from each other, so I'd give it..." She lifted her wrist as if checking her watch, which she didn't have. "One hour."

You scoffed. "Not a fucking chance."

And you meant it with every fibre of your being. You'd sooner carve out your own bruised heart and flush it down the toilet than speak to him.

"Jin!"

Toga's attention had gone past you to the door of the gym. You turned around, your heart dropping like a stone into your stomach when you realised who was next to Twice.

Oh, it could only be Hawks.

It was almost comical at this point. Dabi was ignoring you and you... well, you were trying to forget the pitiful state you'd been in when you were last with Hawks, and how he had stayed by your side and walked you home while you stumbled the entire way there. Something knotted inside of you when you thought of that night.

Hawks' golden eyes had found you immediately, and the slightest of smiles curved his lips. It was a smile between two liars, from one agent to another. His large crimson wings peeked out from above his shoulders, and you couldn't help but recall what it was like to be surrounded by them, even if just for a moment. Even if you were too drunk to appreciate the beauty and comfort of it.

And then he was coming your way.

Shit.

You didn't dare toss a glance to wherever Dabi was hiding, but you could imagine the appearance of the number two hero had not gone unnoticed by him. Twice was chatting animatedly with Hawks, whose eyes were firmly on you as he approached. If your heart wasn't pounding before, it surely was now.

"Nyx, isn't it?" Hawks said, and you wanted to laugh at the twinkle in his eye. He offered you a hand, which you accepted, standing to your feet. "I've been told you're an amazing fighter."

You tossed a glance at Twice, who only shrugged. "I'm capable."

"More than that," Toga added, "she's been kicking my ass all morning and hasn't broken a sweat."

From the mischievous gleam in Hawks' eyes, you knew exactly what he'd say if you were alone. He made a show of studying you, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Would you consider a round with me?"

And you say I'm the wicked one, number two.

You merely tossed him a pretty, vicious smile. "If you think you can keep up with me, I'll give you a whirl."

Hawks' lips curved into a smirk. "Don't go easy on me."

He told you before that you had a way of commanding attention, but you felt the very same about him. Those eyes seemed to capture you wholly, leaving you unable to look away. His arrogant charm was undeniably alluring, and the twinkle in his eye screamed play with me. Who were you to resist?

You matched his smirk with one of your own. "I wouldn't dare."

The training hall fell silent the moment that you and the number two hero stepped onto the mat. Hawks held your gaze, snared it. Don't look away. He seemed to say. Look at me. And so you did.

His voice echoed in the pristine silence. "Weapons?"

You shook your head, dropping into a defensive stance. "I don't need them."

Hawks' smirk grew, and those golden eyes of his slid the length of you. He removed his jacket and tossed it away, revealing thick pads of muscle beneath a tight t-shirt. "If you wish."

Toga ran onto the mat, handing you a water bottle. Her eyes were gleaming with feral delight. She dropped her voice low. "Keep going. You're making Dabi jealous."

That wasn't why you were standing on that mat with Hawks, but it sure as hell was an added benefit if you were making that asshole feel even some slight discomfort. You wanted to see where he was standing, but you also had no desire to lose the staring contest you were currently waging with Hawks.

"First one to submission." Your voice was clear and confident. "Are you ready?"

Hawks made a show of rolling out his shoulders, a lazy, arrogant grin curling his pretty lips. "On three?"

You nodded "Two."

His eyes glinted with wicked delight. "One."

And then you launched yourself.

Hawks did not move from where he stood, waiting for you to come to him. His counter was a perfect dodge into a jab which you skirted away from with only a breath between you. You're good, birdy. So very good. It excited you, filling your veins with adrenaline and anticipation. You threw a punch to his gut, which he deftly avoided. The kick you followed with, however, had grazed the tip of his nose. Closer. He grasped your foot mid-air, jerking you towards him. You used your other leg to kick forward and spin, forcing him to break his hold.

Sweat beaded at your hairline now, and you felt its slickness as well as you felt the surge of energy in your body when you realised this opponent would not be easily beaten. This opponent was your equal.

Your myriad of punches met perfect blocks, so you pushed harder. Faster. His breaths were quickening. His muscles strained and his brows furrowed in intense concentration. And then you felt him slip. One, tiny slip. You launched him halfway across the mat with one perfect kick to the gut.

Air entered your lungs in pants as you watched Hawks skid to a stop, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he stood tall once again, his wings furrowing behind him. "I guess I'll give you first touch."

You raised a brow, amused. "You'll give me?"

Hawks shrugged, the movement born of pure arrogance. "It won't matter once I win."

You only had half a second to react when the number two hero sliced towards you like a blade flying through the air. You spun out of his way, throwing up your arms to block the punches that immediately followed. Oh, this was him. This was the most beloved hero and the vicious agent. Merciless. Cunning. Strong. He was another monster entirely on offence. Your body screamed as you jerked it away from him, ducking and spinning. Your attacks were forced to quicken to match the speed of his counters, and god did you love it.

This was a dance. Enchanting and cruel. All that anger, all that pain became fuel for your muscles to burn through with every movement. And god, you were burning. You felt that delicious heat in every part of your body. More, you begged yourself. Harder. Faster. He was merciless in his barrage, just as you were with every counter and strike. How long were you dancing? Time seemed to slip away from you entirely, but you paid it no heed as you weathered the storm before you.

It was perfection. Synchronicity and beauty. Block and spin, counter and strike. Never before had you unleashed yourself like this. Never before could anyone withstand the brutality of it. But even you had a limit, just as the beautiful hero before you did. Your punches began to land, pain lancing across your body as his strikes met flesh. But every bit of pain was another shot of adrenaline, and you were addicted to the rush.

By the end, you were both screaming and grunting in effort with every laborious attack. Neither of you dared to let go, though. It seemed that Hawks despised losing just as much as you did.

But then, it was you who slipped.

In one moment, you were on your feet, spinning away from him. In the next, you were flat on your back, unable to escape even if you had the energy needed to. Hawks pinned you down, hands at your wrists and his hips pressed firmly against yours. His eyes were wide, almost as if he too hadn't realised he'd gotten you down. The dance had captured you both, and for just a moment more, you wanted to hold on.

His grip on you loosened, but he didn't let go. Not yet. "Do you submit?"

His voice was a soft whisper against your skin. He was so close to you. Enough so that you could taste his breath. Smell the sweat and vanilla. You were so utterly lost in his eyes. From so close, you could even make out the speckles of hazel and amber weaving between the threads of gold.

You should have moved then, just as he should have. You should have admitted defeat and ended this. But you couldn't. You were still in that moment. Still in that dance. There was nothing else there but him. Nothing. He drew closer, just a fraction of an inch, but your breath hitched in your throat, your wide eyes darting across his perfect face.

A bead of sweat dripped from the tip of Hawks' nose to your cheek. Entranced. That was what you were. Completely enraptured by this moment. By him. Breaths mingled and hearts pounding. Who were you to let go? Who—

"Are you finished?"

That voice. His voice. Whatever spell you'd fallen under shattered so suddenly and into so many tiny pieces. Dabi. You couldn't bare to look at him.

Hawks moved back, but still didn't let go. "No, we're not." He was still looking at you, a cocky smirk spreading over his lips. "Not until she concedes defeat."

It was a pitiful veil for the real reason he wasn't willing to let you go yet. In reality, you'd been caught in a pissing contest between two men who delighted in nothing more than antagonising each other.

"She's mine." The words sliced you open all over again. "We have work to do."

You could feel the heat rolling off him. If you looked at him now, you would surely see sparks of blue at the tips of his fingers. You needed to end this. For so many fucking reasons. The structural integrity of the building you were currently in being a prominent one.

"You win, Hawks."

Your voice was barely a whisper, and you met those golden eyes in a warning before he stepped off you and offered you a hand up. You accepted, thanking him for the match.

"Come with me," was all that Dabi said. He didn't even give you a chance to reply before he grasped your wrist and tugged you towards the door.

Chapter Text

You didn't say a word as Dabi led you from the training gym, tugging you down corridors and into a small room that looked like an office. You gave him the courtesy of waiting until the door was shut behind you both before you ripped your arm from his grasp and tore him to shreds.

"What is your problem?" You hissed the words, heart pounding. "Suddenly feel like talking to me? I wonder why that is."

His eyes darkened in warning, which you pointedly ignored. "Princess..."

"Don't," you retorted. "Don't fucking do that. You don't get to put a claim on me when you told me that you feel nothing for me."

There it was. The hurt. Raw and exposed. A wound that was still slowly bleeding. You finally looked at him then. His darkly beautiful face wore the twists of envy, but his eyes flashed with something else as they met yours. As they read the hurt you wore so plainly for him to see.

I am not lying about this anymore, Dabi. That is all you.

He reached for you, fingers grazing your jaw but you stepped out of his hold. "You don't understand, princess. I can't. Those parts of me were removed a long time ago."

Tears were forming in your eyes, and you didn't dare let them fall. "I don't believe that for a second. Lies are better than fear, right?" You let out a cold, humourless laugh. "Tell me why then. Tell me what happened to you."

A blankness spread over Dabi's features. Void and heartless. "No."

Your temper was rising, along with the heat in your blood. He would not admit his feelings, nor would he tell you why he was so warped and broken. Your emotions were not toys. You were just as human, and just as broken.

"I'm done with this," you spat, reaching for the handle. "You can't give me anything. What's the fucking point?"

Dabi slammed a hand on the door. "You're not going anywhere."

A laugh bubbled from your throat as you recalled a similar scenario weeks ago. He'd admitted that he wanted you then. At that time, it was enough. "We're not doing this again."

"And you're not going back out there."

You twisted back around, back flat against the door. Oh, you were pissed. "Why?"

"Because."

His blue eyes were so infinitely bright, they burned straight through you.

"Because why?"

His jaw ticked. "You really want to be difficult today, don't you?"

You smirked at him, pinning him with your gaze. "And you really want to be an asshole, don't you?" You put your palms flat on his chest and pushed him back. "I'm leaving."

Anger flashed across his features. "Are you in such a hurry to go back to him?"

And there it was. The monster of envy digging its claws into his ruined skin. You saw it so plainly
on him. Jealousy. Now you wished you'd looked at him just once so you could see the annoyance in real-time. It served him right.

"You don't get to be jealous." The words came out laced with warped amusement. "You feel nothing for me. Right, Dabi? Pick a story and stick to it."

"Jealous?" He spat the word as if it was poisonous. "Why would I be jealous of him? You are—"

"Don't you dare finish that fucking sentence," you interjected, anger flaring. "If I am not in here." You shoved him back with a palm flat above his wicked heart. "Then I am not yours."

Something akin to hurt flashed across his face, but it was replaced by rising fury before another second passed. "You're not leaving."

You laughed. "And you're not jealous, right?"

Your dance with Hawks was another thing entirely, and you hadn't even begun to try and understand what had happened. And right now, you didn't have the time.

"Do you think I enjoyed seeing that?" Heat rolled off him, brushing against your skin in a deadly warning, but you were not scared of him. You never would be. "Do you think I liked watching him put his hands on you? Or seeing how you looked at him?"

Dabi had backed you up against the door once more, jealous fury burning in the pits of his beautiful eyes.

"You were ignoring me!" you argued, frustrated. "Did you expect me to wait five feet from you until you decided you felt like speaking to me? Hell fucking no."

"I didn't expect you to put on such a show."

You were seething. Purely fucking seething. "You don't own me, Dabi. And you made it perfectly clear you don't feel a goddamn thing for me. So what do you expect?"

He looked away from you, jaw tense.

"You don't feel a thing for me, right?"

Dabi's eyes were on nothing, and then they were back on you. There was an inferno in that gaze that threatened to burn you, but you'd rather pretend you could walk on flames.

"I always thought you had to care to be jealous, or was I wrong?"

You were fanning the flames of his temper, and you loved the fire in his eyes as much as you hated it.

"I am not fucking jealous."

He spat the words at you with pure venom, his face mere inches from yours.

The smirk that curled your lips was pure wickedness. "Then you should have no problem with who I spend my time with going forward."

A hand slammed against the door to the left of your head, the wood scoring with the heat of his palm. You couldn't help but smile.

"Don't fuck with me."

You poked a finger to his chest. "Don't be a lying coward."

The glare he pinned you with was pure and raw fury, but you didn't even flinch from it. "Careful, princess."

This was your wildness. Your anger and your hurt. You wouldn't stop pushing him, because you couldn't stop pushing yourself. "Tell me I am nothing to you. Tell me right here to my face and I'll believe you."

Dabi opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, slamming his fist against the door behind you once more, splintering the wood. You didn't dare look away from him. Didn't give him the opportunity to hide.

Give me one truth, Dabi.

His blue eyes glowed like escaped stars. Wild and furious. Cruelly beautiful.

And then his mouth was against yours, claiming and consuming. The kiss a brand that burned with delicious heat. But you couldn't give in, not now. You shoved him back, hard.

"Fuck you."

Dabi's lips curled in a cruel smirk. "Fuck you too, princess."

He was kissing you again, devouring your protests and burning away every ounce of your resolve with each slide of his tongue against yours. How could he have so much control over you? When did you fall so deep and not realise?

No.

You broke away from him, heart hammering and breaths quickened. "Anything but tell me the truth? You're such an asshole."

Dabi raised his hands in surrender, stepping away from you. But the arrogant smirk on his face told you he was not nearly finished. "I can't stay away from you, princess. You know that."

You were so fucking frustrated with him. With yourself. With the goddamn universe. And you were only one woman. One who's moral compass and choices remained questionable on the best of days.

So, this time, it was you who kissed him.

Dabi scooped you up, pressing your back flush against the door as you slid your tongue past his lips, tasting every bit of what you craved. This kiss was a battle. This kiss was anger and punishment and he let you torture him in the most damning way possible. In fact, he begged for it with the tightening grip he held you with.

His lips moved from yours, scoring a path of heat down your throat.

"I despise you."

You felt his laughter against your neck, the rumble of his lips on your skin sending skitters of pleasure down your body. He moved his mouth to your ear, whispering pure filth. "Tell me that again when I'm deep inside you."

Your thighs tightened around his hips, suddenly desperate for friction. Dabi's mouth found yours again, drinking you in, grinding his body against yours as if it was just not close enough. And it wasn't. Not nearly enough.

The zip on the front of your catsuit was the first to fall victim to the terrible villain before you, and you fisted his t-shirt as if you could remove it if you tugged hard enough. You were in half a mind to rip it from him entirely.

"Impatient thing, aren't you?"

Dabi carried you from the door to a large desk on the opposite side of the room. He swept his hand across it, sending pens and notebooks flying, along with a monitor which made a rather loud thump as it hit the floor. His t-shirt was the first to go, and you immediately dragged your fingers down his bare chest, feeling every ridge as if you were starving for him.

"You're perfect," he whispered as he pushed your catsuit from your shoulders and down to your hips, revealing the swells of your breasts desperate to feel his touch. "Lay down and lift your hips for me, princess."

And you obeyed. Your skin burned as he tugged the tight material over your ass and down your legs. He took his sweet time doing it, his fingers tracing a line of heat down the smooth skin of your thighs, and then your calves. All the way to your ankles, where he gripped your heel in his hand.

He was devastating. Cruelty and beauty. Twisted perfection. His dark hair was unruly in a way that seemed purposeful. An edge of darkness always seemed to surround him, as if he was indeed a demon from some other place. But there was also an undeniable brightness about him, shining deep from the flaming blue of his eyes. A brightness that showed you more than shadow and pain.

Dabi's hands traveled the length of you, gripping you by the meat of your hips to drag you back to him. He twisted his fingers in your hair and brought you back to kiss him. This one was the embers of your anger, slow and heated. His deft fingers traced from your jaw to your shoulders, and down along your back until he found the clasp of your bra and removed it. He broke away to toss it to the floor.

Those enchanting eyes were on yours now, his fingers finding their way back to your jaw, gliding across its edge before the pad of his right thumb found your lips. You opened for him, letting your tongue swirl over his thumb, tasting the salt of his skin. His eyes glittered with amusement.

"You can be such a good girl when you want to."

You bit down, watching how his pupils seemed to dilate. He removed his thumb from your lips with a laugh.

"And you can also be so cruel."

You sighed dramatically. "You are the only cruel one here, Dabi." His brow quirked up, and a slow, wicked smile spread over your lips. "You're still wearing clothes."

The button on his trousers was the first to go, and you watched it with rapt attention. "Such a princess." He unzipped, shrugging them down his hips. The thick, hard length of him sprang free. "So demanding."

He stepped forward, pushing a hand between your breasts until you were laying flat on the desk, legs dangling off its edge. "And yet you always do what I want."

A rumble of laughter left him. "Because you can't deny a princess, can you?"

You couldn't see him now, but you felt his hands drag across your skin as he removed your panties. He squeezed your thighs as he knelt between them, spreading you wide enough that he could drag his tongue up the centre of you. You gasped a moan, writhing beneath the hand he clamped you down with.

A sinful sound left his mouth as he tasted you. "Soaking."

Dabi was standing again, peppering kisses up your stomach and over the swell of your left breast. He captured your peaked nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling and lips sucking, you could do nothing else but arch your back and squeeze your legs around his hips, muffling cries with the palm of your hand. And then his fingers descended the plane of your stomach. Going lower. Lower. Until he reached that most sensitive part of you, and circled so gently it almost shattered you in an instant.

This was no teasing and edging. This was worship. He gave you exactly what you craved — what you begged for. Building you up until your hips moved on their own, grinding desperately for that release he promised with every stroke of his fingers and every swirl of his tongue around your nipples.

"Be patient for me." His lips were curled into a smirk, but his every move was in complete attention to you. He guided his cock to you, the tip brushing against your clit. Once. Twice. Three times. And then it pushed into you, stretching you wide and filling you whole. "Spread your legs wide for me, princess."

And what could you do but obey? His strokes were slow and purposeful, and you felt every inch of him inside you, driving you towards that edge you knew would destroy you so completely.

And then his fingers returned to circle your clit, drawing out your pleasure in stolen moans. It was too much. It was everything. The feel of him inside you, thick and hard, while his fingers—

You'd lost the ability to think. To breathe. You could only feel the crescendo of pleasure building inside of you with every perfect stroke, sharp and brutal. His touch — his body — claimed you so completely. So perfectly. You were a slave to the feel of him.

Dabi's free hand found your left nipple once more, pinching and twisting. It took one more stroke. Two. Three. And then you shattered completely. Your hips bucked, almost breaking from him if he had not moved his hand to hold you in place. You buried your teeth in your hand to muffle the cry that ripped through you. He continued to fuck you, riding the waves of your pleasure, finding his own release between each squeeze of yours. For a moment, you just lay there, unable to move even if you wanted to.

He rested his head on your stomach, breathing laboured and skin slick with sweat. "You destroy me."

Your rapid heartbeat hadn't slowed. "Likewise."

Dabi moved away from you, gathering your clothes so he could hand them back to you. For once, silence descended upon you both as you replaced every garment you so quickly removed. He looked even more beautiful to you, then. Unruly and wild, but made so by your hand. Your touch.

You smoothed your hair, and brushed your hands over your catsuit, making sure all of you was back in place. Once satisfied, you headed for the door. You paused on the handle. "I'm still pissed at you."

Dabi's laughter was a melody of its own. "I know, princess."

Chapter Text

It was an hour past midnight, and your window was wide open, a chill seeping in from the expanse of night beyond it. You were waiting, chewing on the inside of your lip as you lay across your bed, one eye kept on the endless night.

Your chest was a flutter of nervous energy, the pitter-patter of your heart a harmony to the brutal silence of darkness. And why were you so nervous? It wasn't like you hadn't done this before. Sleuthing was your bread and butter. Or were you nervous for another reason? Because of an entirely unrelated situation?

The answer was most likely yes.

You blew out a heavy sigh, tapping each of the knives strapped to your body — and even the ones hidden in your boots — making sure they were all accounted for.

The heavy beat of wings had you suddenly in a sitting position as Hawks appeared at your window. You ushered him inside, sliding the pane of glass down once his boots hit the floor.

"So, this is where they keep you." Hawks' eyes glided around your room, pausing on the slightly rumpled sheets you'd just been laying on, before returning to you. "It's pretty nice."

You quirked a brow. "Not like the luxury of your apartment, I imagine."

Of course, you knew what his apartment looked like from that one time you'd broken in, though you had no intention of sharing that information. Even then, you'd been shocked at the sheer size of his bed.

Understandable, given the wingspan.

His lips curved into a smile. "I live modestly."

You almost snorted but held yourself. Hawks had forsaken the jacket despite the chill in the air. Now, he wore only the black and yellow t-shirt he'd fought you in only a couple of days previous. At that time, you'd been far too concerned with beating him to note how perfectly it clung to him — to the thick pads of muscle on his chest or the round shoulders and biceps that strained against the fabric. He was a weapon, honed to the sharpest of edges, and he'd demonstrated just that when he pinned you to the mat.

Given the twinkle of mischief in his eyes, it seemed he was recalling the very same thing.

"I haven't seen you since..." Hawks trailed off, those sharp eyes of his searching your expression.

"Ah, yes." You chewed your lip, that familiar fluttering of nervous energy returning tenfold. "Since that."

In truth, you'd even been avoiding Dabi since that day. You weren't one for emotions, and you'd been feeling far too much recently for your liking. When it came to that insufferable villain, you'd said your piece, and you would offer no more of yourself to watch it shatter irreparably. It wasn't finished, and you knew that, but you would protect the naïve girl inside of you that only just learned what it felt like to care.

Those beautiful golden eyes cut through you. "He was... quick to drag you away."

"And you were quick to antagonise him." Your lips curved into a slight smirk. "Haven't you learned not to play with fire?"

Hawks' own smirk was sinful arrogance. "What can I say? I don't always do what I'm told."

You rolled your eyes, smiling softly. "You won, by the way, fair and square. What would you like your reward to be, number two?"

Hawks' brows shot up. "Whatever I want?"

You pouted. "Within reason."

He studied you for a moment, and the wicked glint in his eye had you wishing you'd never said a word. "I'll think about it, dove."

"Again, within reason." Hawks only tossed you a grin, and you chose to reluctantly return your attention to the task at hand. "Are you ready?"

The winged hero nodded. "I'm assuming you are?"

"I've been watching Re-Destro's moves for weeks, and I know he spends every Wednesday playing cards in the city. It's the best time we have to get into his room." You brushed a hand over the knives on your thigh once more. "I can't be certain of his movements at any other time. He's paranoid."

"And Dabi?"

"Also paranoid."

Hawks cocked a brow, amused. "Is he here tonight?"

You shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. I'd have more luck pinning down the location of Bigfoot than Dabi."

Unconvinced, Hawks went on. "And what if he is?"

"Then we don't get caught." You winked at him. "You enjoy a little espionage, don't you?"

The twinkle in his eye told you that Hawks loved a challenge almost as much as you did. "I've never been caught before."

"Either have I," you replied, "and I don't intend to make tonight a first." You headed for the door, placing a hand on the cool metal of the handle. "Re-Destro's room is on this floor, on the opposite side of the building. There's only one corridor to it, and his is the second last room, just before Skeptic's. There's only one way down there, and if anyone comes that way behind us, we're royally fucked. Other than that, it's nothing we're not used to."

"I'll monitor the area with Fierce Wings," Hawks added. "We'll make an escape route if it comes to that."

"Good." You pushed on the handle. "Let's go then."

Outside your room, the hallways were bathed in shadow, not a single sound but the eerie ticking of a single clock you couldn't see. You melded into the darkness almost immediately, using your quirk to scout the area ahead as Hawks followed behind you.

"This is the hallway," you whispered as you reappeared. "You know the plan. I'll make sure it's safe, get into Re-Destros room and open it for you from the inside."

Hawks nodded silently, his wings unfurling slightly as he released a few feathers for surveillance. "What about cameras?"

"Skeptic bugged this entire hallway, and it took me a week alone to find where they all were." You glanced down to where the villain's door sat. "The building has... conveniently had some issues with power outages all day. Also, there's not a single camera in Re-Destro's room. It was a point of contention between the two in the beginning, but Destro didn't back down. He was convinced someone could hack into it — which they could."

Hawks nodded again. "Let's get inside."

First, you chanced a look into Skeptic's room, sliding beneath the doorframe. The villain-in-question was still wide-awake, tapping on the keyboard of his computer, the only light in the room coming from the glow of his monitor. You retreated the way you came, sliding beneath the door of Re-Destro's room to find nothing but silent darkness awaiting you. The lock clicked as you opened the door for Hawks, satisfied it was safe.

"His study?" Hawks asked as the door shut softly behind him.

You pointed to the door on the right side of the entryway. "There."

Maybe it was the bulky jacket he always wore, but you'd never noticed before how large his wings truly were. They engulfed him almost completely from behind, and yet never dragged on the ground. Of course, you hadn't failed to notice the wideness of his toned back which most definitely attributed to the ease in which he held himself.

Stop it, Nyx.

You'd started in the bedroom, picking through anything you could find, but finding nothing of substance. You joined Hawks in the study before long. "Find anything?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

The walls on either side of the large mahogany desk were lined with bookcases filled with folders, books, and even scraps of paper. You dug through there while Hawks continued his exploration of the desk.

After a few minutes of concentrated silence passed, you spoke. "So, any idea what your reward will be?"

A smirk curved his lips. "A few."

"Care to share them with me?"

Hawks glanced up at you from where he was bent over a stack of papers, amusement dancing in his golden eyes. "Not yet."

You scrunched your nose. "Rude." Hawks returned his attention to the papers before him, and you followed suit with the bookcases. "Next time, I won't spar with Toga beforehand. I'll conserve my energy for you."

Hawks' brows quirked up. "Next time?"

You made a great show of studying a dusty tome in your hand with complete attention. "Yes, next time."

"You want to spar with me again?"

A blush crept up your neck, slow and steady. "Don't you?"

A rumble of laughter left him, airy and bright. "I do, dove. But you're only asking because you really don't like losing, aren't you?"

Your cheeks stained crimson, then. It didn't seem hard for him to see right through you. The pout that formed on your lips was pretty perfection. "I can't say I enjoy it."

Those piercing golden eyes were wholly on you now, his mouth a playful grin. "Cute."

You balked. "What is?"

Hawks' gaze never left you, and that grin only grew. "You."

You didn't need to look at yourself in a mirror to know a blush had taken you whole. Even the tips of your ears burned hot. "I'm not cute." Your protest fell on deaf ears, given the mirth in his eyes. "I'm an assassin and a spy. I can't be cute."

"You can be cute and deadly," Hawks replied, his grin infectious. "Among other things..." He trailed off.

"Oh yeah?" you pressed. "What else?"

Hawks only shook his head. "I'll keep my secrets, dove."

You pouted again. "No fun."

The bookshelves yielded nothing of interest apart from Re-Destro's questionable taste in fiction. Hawks had pored over the contents of the desk with complete concentration for at least a half hour already. If anything, he was the one who looked cute when focused. Of course, you didn't breathe that into existence.

"Nothing." Hawks balled his hands into fists, still careful not to disturb anything even in his growing frustration. "We are nowhere near finding Shigaraki's location."

You shrugged. "This was a long shot and we knew it. Maybe it's time for more deceptive methods."

His golden eyes found you. "Like?"

"No one in the League talks about it, but at least some of them know where he's being kept."

"Dabi?" Hawks offered.

You nodded. "Yes, Dabi. Even Twice. If Toga knows, I might be able to get it out of her in the right circumstances. My issue is not wanting to raise suspicions by bringing it up randomly. The League are a lot but they're not stupid. They've come a long way since I joined."

"I've been building a relationship with Twice," Hawks said. "I want him to trust me, and given how unpredictable he is, I was hoping it would be easier to get information from him."

"You need to get further into this operation, and through Twice is a good bet. Even if you don't get any information, his trust might save you."

Hawks nodded. "We should leave here now."

You put back everything you'd touched in the exact place you'd found it while Hawks did the same. Every place your fingertips had grazed was wiped away with no trace left behind. Both of you left Re-Destro's room, with you slipping back beneath the door to lock it again from the inside before materialising next to Hawks once more.

"We should go back to my room first, you can leave that way—"

Hawks' eyes narrowed, his entire body growing rigid between one second and the next. "Someone is coming."

Fuck.

You glanced at the door. There was a chance you could get in and open the door and have Hawks back inside before you were both seen, but there was also a high probability you wouldn't have enough time. The corridor was windowless, you'd already checked this. Why right now? One minute earlier would have saved you both.

Think.

Seconds were bleeding away, and sinking dread settled in when you finally acknowledged that there was no other exit. This was always a possibility, you knew that, but you'd taken this route a dozen times. Planned out the perfect time. Skeptic was busy and no one else ever came this way. Had Re-Destro returned early?

Think, Nyx.

You could hear the approaching footsteps echoing through you. One step. Another. How many more until they rounded that corner and found you?

Hawks' eyes met yours, and you knew the urge you saw in them was a plea for you to hide. After all, you could escape this without a second thought. But Hawks. He couldn't. The winged hero reached for his feather blades, taking a defensive stance as a shadow approached the corner.

You weren't sure what happened next.

One moment, your heart was beating through your chest so furiously it was painful, and in the next, you'd reached for Hawks, dragging him into your abyss.

After that, the world was nothing but a shimmering, smoky mirror. You were scattered amongst the blackness, but you felt warmth in every place where his body touched yours. This didn't feel the same as usual. Where you could move freely in shadow before, you were now rooted in place. But Hawks. He had become shadow, too. You had used your quirk on him in some moment of sheer desperation and pulled him into the darkness with you.

You clung to him, feeling the flow of your power as it cloaked him. I had no idea I could do this. The limits of your quirk had been tested so rigorously, but this was new. An evolution of your power. Evolution of you.

The grip you had on your quirk almost faltered as Dabi rounded the corner, heading straight toward where you were both veiled. Hawks' rapid heartbeat was a harmony to your own as he grew closer and closer. You held your breath, held your power with a white-knuckled grip as Dabi passed by you both, heading straight for Skeptic's door.

He knocked twice before disappearing inside.

You waited one moment. Two. And then you released your quirk, stumbling from the shadows. Hawks tumbled with you, steadying himself with one hand on the wall behind you. His other arm was hooked around your waist, pressing you tightly to him. It took you another moment to realise that your fingers were digging into his chest, and even your legs were tangled between his.

"Have you always been able to do that?"

The words brushed against the shell of your ear like a caress. Hawks hadn't let you go yet. Given the grip he held you with, it didn't seem like he wanted to.

You relaxed your fingers but kept your palms flat over his chest. Every beat of his heart thrummed through you. "No." You stepped away, and he let you, though your fingers tingled where they'd gripped him so tightly. "We should move from here."

Hawks only nodded, but your attention was drawn back to where Dabi had disappeared behind Skeptic's door. Your eyes narrowed. "He's up to something."

"Why do you think that?"

"He hates Skeptic," you explained. "And there's no reason he'd be visiting him at a time like this if it wasn't something shady."

"Any ideas?"

You pursed your lips. Something about this wasn't right and you knew it. Dabi was a little too good at hiding things, and you were more than capable of uncovering them. You started down the hallway.

"Where now?"

"Dabi's room," you announced. "I'm feeling a need to keep the ball rolling."

Hawks swore but made no attempt to dissuade you from your likely misguided mission. You couldn't live in ignorance of him anymore. Not now. Not after everything.

The hallway was silent as you passed your own room on the way to Dabi's. Surprisingly, he hadn't bothered to lock his door, though that only made it seem more likely that his meeting with Skeptic was a short one. Even so, you still continued ahead, determined to find anything.

You paused as you entered, recalling the last time you'd been here. It was the moment you realised that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't lie to yourself. Neither of you had deigned to acknowledge what had happened that night, though it haunted you still.

Hawks brushed past you. "We'll be quick."

Your gaze traveled from his rumpled bedsheets to the dresser you'd taken a t-shirt from — one which you still have — to the bedside table with its top drawer slightly ajar.

"Well, you were right about the hair dye," Hawks said, shaking a box he'd found in the bathroom. "Midnight black."

Amusement curled your lips. "Fitting." 

You skimmed through his dressers, noting that half of them were empty before heading for the most likely place of substance — the bedside locker. The top drawer was full of random nicknacks — lighters, half-packets of cigarettes, random scraps of paper, and a hip flask filled with what smelled like brandy. But beneath it all, you picked out a charred photograph. The image was blackened beyond recognition, the edges crumbling beneath your touch. But the outline of two figures remained. One large. One small. A young boy, maybe? While the other was a parent? The only part of the picture you could make out was the small arm of the young boy outstretched with a bright orange flame erupting from his tiny hand. Was this Dabi?

You set the photograph back beneath the contents of his drawer. "Let's go."

Hawks slipped out first, and you followed swiftly behind, casting only a glance back at the room you left. You couldn't even bare to look at the shower and remember those moments that would curse you for existence.

"Did you find anything?" Hawks asked as you shut the door to your bedroom softly behind him.

You nodded. "A photograph, but it was charred. I need some time to figure it out for myself. I'll give you my thoughts once I do."

The winged hero nodded, though his piercing gaze laid you bare. What emotions could he see roiling beneath your skin? What secrets did your melancholy eyes betray?

And then he spoke, the words slicing through you.

"Are you his, dove?"

Though it burned you to know it, the answer was clear. You were a liar, beautiful and deadly. No truths could come from lies, despite how easily you almost believed they could. It would only be yet another deception, this time of your own heart. "No."

Hawks only nodded, an emotion you could not read flickering in his eyes. He lifted the window pane, stretching his wings to fly away. Though he didn't look back, his words carried to you on the breeze flowing in your open window. "I would have liked to know you sooner, too."

And then he was gone.

Chapter Text

You thought of that photograph often in the days that followed. The tiny hand of bright orange flame and the blackened outline of a child. It felt strange to you to imagine Dabi as anything but what he was. Though knowing he was once so innocent made that wound in your chest bleed even more. There were a thousand possibilities for what his story could be. Was it as warped and dark as yours? Was he the tragic image of what you could have become — could still become — if you let go of that sliver of hope left in your soul?

Part of you wanted to.

Part of you wondered what would happen if you stepped out of your cage and tasted the wild freedom of insanity. If you owned your life and unleashed your darkness upon those who made you kneel.

But then your mind wandered to Hawks.

He was just as you were. But was he as bruised and broken by the things he'd done? Sometimes you believed he was. You ached for understanding as much as you ached for calamity. And sometimes he shone so brightly it pained you to look at him.

Are your wings stained crimson from all the blood you've spilled, Hawks?

Your emotions felt like shards of glass slicing you apart with every movement. To go from feeling so little, to feeling far too much, hurt more than you thought was possible. And the worst part of all of it was that you brought it upon yourself. Despite knowing it would end in ruin, you begged for it. When you closed your eyes, you dreamt of the cruel, beautiful slant of Dabi's mouth. And when you opened them, you saw the shimmering gold of molten metal and depthless emotion in Hawks' eyes.

What a pitiful creature you've become, Nyx.

The princess of shadow reduced to a simpering pile of mush incapable of controlling even basic emotions. Had that not been trained out of you already? Or had you opened Pandora's box with no hope of closing it?

You sighed aloud, rubbing your eyes with the backs of your hands.

It was only early in the afternoon and you were already bored enough that you'd begun contemplating your existence. How cliché. The alleyways were silent as you sauntered through them without any real final destination. Of course, you'd thought about going to speak to Hawks, but even the thought of him was making your chest clench for reasons you'd not dared to do enough introspection to understand.

Well, maybe you had a slight idea, though that was shaping up to be just as catastrophic as everything else.

You flipped a dagger in your hand, over and over, catching it by the hilt each time before tossing it up again. What to do...? There was always stalking Hawks instead of speaking to him, though he was getting pretty good at finding you each time you attempted that.

Your phone buzzed and you plucked it from your pocket, pinching your lips as you read the message.

Dabi🔥❌🫠☠️: where are you?

You rolled your eyes and began typing back a reply that started with none of your business and ended in a full stop. But before you hit send, you caught movement in the corner of your eye and the dagger left your hand before you thought twice.

A grunt of pain sounded from whoever had been intending on sneaking up on you, and you whipped around, knives in hand before another moment passed.

"I knew I smelled you," the man said. "We've been looking for you."

Your heart lurched as you caught sight of the man with the dog-like quirk who'd knocked you from your shadows only days ago. Behind him, three more men appeared, and you recognised them all from the warehouse that day. Behind you, a woman you'd never seen before and another lackey closed in.

A smirk curled your lips. "And here I thought I'd have nothing to do today. I would say it's nice to see you again, puppy, but I'd be lying."

Your dagger had imbedded itself in his left bicep, a trickle of blood dripping from the fresh wound. He pulled it from his flesh without so much as flinching and tossed it by his feet. "If you want something to call me, sweetheart, you can go with Canine."

"How does mutt sound?"

He flashed you a deadly grin. "No Dabi today? We were rather upset when he never returned with what we're owed."

You shrugged. "He doesn't take kindly to threats."

"And we don't take kindly to being shortchanged," Canine followed on. "So we're here to collect a debt, sweetheart. It's nothing personal."

The two closing in behind you were getting too close for comfort, and you didn't particularly like how those behind the mutt were inching their guns upward with every second.

You bent low, knives in hand. "You can try."

The three behind Canine lurched their weapons upward, and you dove to the right, sliding behind a parked motorcycle as the first shots fired. You launched yourself towards the nearest two behind you, slicing your knife along the throat of the first rather useless one, gripping his falling body as a shield to stop the onslaught of shots fired in your direction.

The remaining woman hissed at you, metallic razor-sharp teeth gleaming as her fingers became blades of pure silver and detached from her skin to soar towards you like thrown knives. You rolled away with a curse, her finger-blades sticking from the brick behind you. Within the next second, you were upon her, your blades clanging off her now fully silver arms as she stumbled backward before launching to counter.

She was nothing like Hawks. Nothing like the brutal grace of his body as he spun away from you. Nothing like the speed he'd attacked you with. You had her on her back with a dagger between her ribs in less than a minute.

You were on your feet once more, zeroing in on your next target. Four left, including the mutt. Two with guns. One with a strength-based quirk. And lastly the dog. Your eyes narrowed on one of the gun-wielders who stood furthest back. He had one gleaming metal eye that was perfectly trained on you as you moved. But there was something else. His eye seemed to glow, growing brighter with each passing second as he watched you.

What sort of quirk is that?

You knew enough about quirks to know that building up to something never ended well, and given it was the only unknown between them all, you set your sights on him, diving beneath the incoming fist of the strength-user.

The air left your lungs so fast it winded you as Canine slammed into you, your body colliding with a concrete wall with enough force to snap bones. Thankfully, you remained intact. He was on all-fours now, saliva dripping from his maw, teeth stripped back as he growled at you.

"Bad doggy," you wheezed as you stood straight again.

The dagger in your boot was the next to launch before the second of the gun-wielders could dare to fire a shot, embedding in his eye with a wet crunch. The one with the metal eye had yet to shoot, you noted.

"You're mine," Canine growled, but it sounded more animal than human.

You shot forth again, determined to get past the man-tank and the rabid dog to the scrawny man behind them. Given how they positioned themselves between you and your target, killing him first would be the right call.

A grunt left your lips as you dodged Canine's next attack, coming within inches of the gargantuan hands of the hulk-man. If he got ahold of you, you'd be crushed before another second passed. I need to get past them. And what better way to do that than go through them? You had experience with the bigger ones, and your speed would make up for the gap in physical strength. You moved to attack him head-on, faking him out as you dropped low and dove, dragging your blades along the backs of his legs. He hit the ground hard, blood pouring from the death sentence you gave him. You didn't bother finish him off.

"Now!"

There was only Canine and the metal-eyed one left. You were out of daggers, left with the blades in each hand as your only defense. His eye had grown too bright for you to look at, and you dove forward in sheer desperation, Canine's teeth sinking into your left calf as you passed him. Bile burned the inside of your throat as white-hot pain exploded through you.

Your body slammed against the hard ground, and a miracle had you back on your feet, blood leaking from the wound he left behind.

The metal-eyed man lifted his gun, his finger hovering over the trigger. Fuck. He pressed down as you dove into a cartwheel out of his trajectory. He missed. But time had seemed to still as that bullet sliced through the air, curving unnaturally to chase you where you'd fled, meeting flesh as it bit into your thigh.

A scream ripped from your lips as you tumbled to the ground, suddenly without the ability to move a single muscle in your body.

What was it?

Your vision swam, darkness creeping in at its edges to drag you beneath the abyss. Heavy footsteps sounded before you, coming to a stop as Canine bent low and gripped you by the hair, dragging your eyes to meet his. "You were smart to go for him, he can't miss when he's charged up."

Deeper. You were falling deeper.

"Time to go, sweetheart."

This darkness was foreign. Deep and unending. Bending you into submission instead of caressing you. And you were lost. So very lost.

And when you finally fell, there was nothing there to catch you.

***

"Don't you want to be a hero?"

You were somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away. The figure bent before you, his face shrouded in shadow and his hand outstretched towards you. In it was a knife of gleaming silver metal with a razor-sharp edge. You reached out to it, chubby hands grasping the hilt that seemed far too big for you. Your tiny fingers curled around it.

"We found a bad man for you, Nyx." The words drifted past you as if from some distant place. "We brought him here for you to find."

You felt yourself nodding, determination coiled in your chest, heavy and unwavering. You'd begged for this. Over and over again.

"If you do well, we can send you into the field even sooner." The voice was soft as it spoke to you, but even then you could discern the darkness laced between the words. "Don't you want to be a hero?"

Your heart surged at the thought. A hero. It was the only thing you wanted. And you fixated on it the way that young hearts do, dragging yourself to the training rings until your body was black and blue. Learning everything there was to know about hero society until your brain hurt. And every night you fell asleep to the chorus of cheers in the highlight reels of your favourite heroes.

You are special.

It was the mantra of your short existence. Special. Better. They were building you into the perfect hero before even the best of the best had started their journey. You would change the world. You would bring every villain to their knees.

So you grasped that knife with pride and turned to the training grounds you'd played in many times. It was a mockup of a street in the heart of the city, with tall buildings and cars that didn't move. The sun had already set, and darkness was descending upon the world.

"I'll give you a hint," the man told you. "He's in the hospital."

You set your sights on the large white building at the end of the street and vanished into darkness.

It wasn't easy for you to use your quirk for long periods of time, but you were getting better at it with every passing day. Whenever you couldn't hold on any longer, you stepped out of your shadows and caught your breath, sweat beading at your hairline. The hand holding the knife was already slick with sweat, but you didn't dare let go.

You thought of how All Might would never lose, and how Endevour destroyed all those who opposed him. If you wanted to be the best, you could never fail.

The hospital was eerily silent as you stepped in, and fear clawed from the pit of your chest, desperate for air. But they'd taught you how to smother that feeling already.

You climbed up and up, disappearing and reappearing on one floor and then the next. You were three floors from the top when you heard the shuffle of footsteps fleeing to the furthest, inescapable corner.

Found you.

Hide and seek. Like the game you'd seen but never played for yourself. Now you had your chance.

Stubborn determination flared in your chest, sending a trickle of adrenaline-filled anticipation through you. If you did well, maybe you'd finally be good enough to become a real hero. To take on a real mission and prove your worth to the world. What hero name would you choose? What would they call you on the television?

Your footsteps were close to silent as you crept through the long, dark corridors to find your villain.

From here, you could hear his ragged breathing. Was he scared? Villains did not feel fear. Only the bad emotions that forced them to hurt others. It was your job to bring justice. To make sure that no villains could ever hurt anyone again.

You became shadow once more, sinking through the darkness, growing closer and closer to the villain crouched in the darkest corner of the furthest room in the building. His quirk. Find out his quirk. It was one of the first lessons they taught you.

You stumbled.

Red fire flickered across his arms, snaking up his body before extinguishing as he trembled. "Who is there?"

His quirk was some kind of heat. Of fire. But it seemed his entire body was capable of becoming flame. I can't touch him. You squeezed the knife in your shadowy hand. I need to be fast.

But then his eyes found you within the darkness, or at least you thought they did. His pupils were blown, pure fear swallowing him whole. It was enough for you to fall from the dark, stumbling before him with the knife still clutched in your tiny fingers.

Those fear-filled eyes met yours. But villains can't be scared. And yet even you knew what that expression was, even if you banished those emotions from yourself already.

"A child?"

He reached for you and you struck, spooked by the sudden movement. Your knife bit into his neck, blood pouring down pale skin. But he's not dead yet. It was a messy wound. Unrefined. So you stabbed again. And again. And again. Until he stopped moving entirely. Until the fear had finally left his eyes.

You dropped the knife, stumbling back. Your fingers, they were wet. Sticky. Coated in red, the metallic scent filling your lungs.

Something is wrong.

Your body lurched, acid burning your throat as you emptied the contents of your stomach onto the tiled floor. Again and again. Until there was nothing left to give.

When you curled into a ball on that floor, no one came for you. Not for a long, long time. It was the first time in your life that you'd ever felt truly alone.

Chapter Text

Your head throbbed, reeling from the images of your past you'd buried so deep, and from the drug that immobilised you. Bright. It's so bright. You opened your eyes, vision blurred. Nausea swirled in your stomach, burning your throat with the acrid taste of acid. Where am I?  You were forcing your heavy-lidded gaze to remain open, vision finally beginning to focus. Your muscles felt like lead as you attempted to move them, finding your limbs bound to what seemed like a chair.

When your eyes finally focused, you settled on the ring of floodlights surrounding you, drowning out any chance of shadow that could spell your escape. Fuck. And there you were, in the center of that ring of lights, bound tightly to a heavy iron chair.

Across from you, on an small table, your two favourite blades sat, taunting you.

"Finally awake?"

The voice floated from your right, and you whipped your head to the source. The leader of your merry-band-of-kidnappers, Hami, leaned against one of the dozen floodlights surrounding you. He pushed off, striding towards you.

"Sleep well?"

You opened your mouth, dry lips cracking. "Like a log."

His eyes glittered with amusement. "Glad to see your spirit is still intact."

Your voice protested as you spoke. "I can't say the same for some of those grunts you sent after me."

He shrugged. "An unfortunate loss."

You laughed, cold and without emotion. "I'll look forward to cutting the rest of you down."

Hami's eyes glided over you, lingering on your face for a moment longer before he spoke. "Do you think you can mask your fear with those empty threats?"

You scoffed, irritation flaring. "You have no idea what I am."

Hami smiled. "Oh, I well believe that. But at your core, you are just human. And every human can be caught and killed. Without your quirk, what are you but just a pathetic little girl?"

Your hands balled into fists, but you loosened them once again, falling back into the character that had kept you alive for all this time. "I have never felt human in my life." You paused, laughing. "Do you know what you are, Hami?"

His mouth quirked into a grin. "Enlighten me."

The gaze you pinned him with was the final remnant of your composure. "You're a ghost of the past still clinging to the shred of power you used to have, unwilling to admit that you are irrelevant in this new world. Power comes from strength, and you can never be the strongest."

His hand moved so fast you barely registered it as the back of his palm collided with your cheek, leaving it stinging in his wake. "There will be nothing left of you but bones, girl. Do you think he would find it poetic if we burned you to ash?"

You spat. "Fuck you."

Hami didn't bother to deign you with another response as he strode away, leaving you in pure and utter silence once more.

You struggled against your bindings for several slow and painful minutes, finally reaching the conclusion that you were indeed trapped. Before, nobody ever saw you coming. You were a shadow for the HPSC, a ghost that didn't exist beyond swift killings. Your targets never knew you to prepare for your quirk, your capabilities. This was different. This was the risk only true heroes incurred.

An icy trickle of fear slid down your spine.

I am not scared. But even within the safety of your mind, you were wavering. I am better than this. You never failed. This was not how you would meet your end. Not in such a pathetic state. If your time came, it would be with a knife in your hand, and you sure as hell wouldn't be going down without a fight.

Was this always a possibility in Hawks' life? That he would meet an opponent who was prepared for his quirk, or an opponent who could overcome it easily? Was the peak of your strength countered by something as simple as a light? It was almost laughable.

Fear. It was a horrible, overwhelming feeling. And you were scared. So painfully afraid that this was the end of you. That you would die as you came into this world. Alone.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you let them fall, head hung over your lap. You would not give up. You would claw yourself out of this place with the last of your strength, or die trying. But for a brief time, you let yourself feel that fear. If only so when you did finally die, you could die as a human, and not the monster they made you.

***

Time seemed to float away from you as you swam between consciousness and darkness. When you closed your eyes, you remembered far too much. And when you opened them, all that regret and fear rushed back in.

"I'm not a hero."

You were lost again, slipping between the cracks in the barriers you'd erected around yourself. All you could do was fall.

"You are a hero and more. You were chosen for something bigger."

But it didn't feel that way. Not always. You felt... stained. And the golden boy was given everything that you wanted. He was a hero.

"He is different from you, but you are special. You are the hero in the shadows. The only way you can protect the world is if you keep hiding. Keep fighting."

And that was enough for you. For a time. But deep in the furthest corner of your heart, you kept a piece of that girl who longed for more. The girl who longed for the light. And you would fight, you would kill and you would bring ruin upon those who would do the same to the world. If that golden boy kept the light, you would be his shadow in the darkness.

"You look far less... murderous when you sleep."

Fingers snapped before your face, drawing you back to consciousness. You opened your mouth before your eyes. "What's that awful smell of wet dog?"

Canine laughed, poking a claw into your cheek. "Hami told me I can take a piece of you to send to that villain of yours. I wonder what part I'll slice off."

Dread settled in the pit of your stomach.

"Nothing to say?" He laughed again, dragging that claw down your jaw and over the soft skin of your neck, enough that you felt a bite of pain. He knelt before you, his wolfish eyes alight. "Do you think he'd prefer an ear or a finger? Or I could carve out one of those pretty eyes of yours?"

You spat, a thick wad of saliva soaking into his furry cheek. His fist collided with your face immediately, throwing your head back as pain sang across your skin.

"You'll cry for mercy by the end of this," Canine growled. "I promise that."

Blood pooled in your mouth, dripping from your newly busted lip. You only smiled. "Go to hell."

His laughter echoed as he strode away from you. "I'll be back soon, sweetheart. Then we can have some fun."

Your frustration was mounting with each passing second, and no matter how hard you struggled, you could not free yourself from your constricting binds. I am not dying here. Your wrists burned from the friction, the rope slicing through your soft skin with every movement. I can't die here. Your quirk surged beneath your skin, searching for an outlet it could not find. Not like this.

Tears burned your eyes, slipping down your cheeks as you tore and tore at your arms and legs, praying to some long-forgotten god for mercy. How did you end up here? What stupid fucking choices had you made that brought you to this pathetic moment?

Would you die before you actually lived?

"Stay still, dove."

Your heart almost ceased beating.

"Hawks?"

It pained you to hear the crack in your own voice as you called his name. To feel that overwhelming sense of hope as his words brushed against your ear. Surely this was your mind playing a cruel trick. He couldn't be here. He couldn't have come for you.

"I'm here, dove."

You felt his hands brush against yours as he cut away the ropes binding your wrists. "H— How?"

"I overheard Dabi talking to Twice. He knows they've taken you," Hawks explained as he released your raw wrists. "I've had my sidekicks out all day trying to find this place. Are you okay?"

You nodded, but you didn't have the strength to stop the tears from falling as he came around and knelt before you, working on the knots at your ankles.

There, in that moment, Hawks truly looked like something out of a fairytale. Maybe he was your saviour, or maybe he was an angel of death coming to carry you far, far away. Either way, you would let him take you into those warm, safe arms and not care which was true. He was so achingly beautiful it hurt.

"Hawks?"

His name was a whisper on your lips, but he met your teary gaze, his brows drawn close as he read the flurry of emotions coursing through you. You didn't try to hide them, not then.

"Yes, dove?"

You reached for him, fingertips grazing his jaw, almost as if you wanted to pull him closer but couldn't. His skin was so warm. So real.

"I—"

He brought his hand up to cup yours, pressing your shaking fingers to his cheek. His touch. His warmth. That feeling. "I need to get you out of here." He paused, his eyes filling with some forlorn shade of desire. "Please let me."

You nodded softly and he undid the final knot, reaching toward you to pick you up. He jolted to a stop halfway, his eyes flicking to the ceiling, back to you, and behind again. "Someone is coming."

If your angel had not been able to steal you away, he had succeeded in stealing your fear.

"Go," you said, breathing deeply as you fed the beast of your vengeance. "Now. You can't be seen with me."

Hawks' gaze traveled over you, his brows pinched. "Are you sure?"

"You've freed me." The smile on your lips was genuine. "Now let me take care of the rest."

Hawks did not ask you twice, disappearing to wherever he'd come from with one perfect beat of his wings. You stood and picked up your knives as the sound of footsteps echoed through you, growing closer by the second.

It was dark enough that you could use your quirk to some effect, perhaps early evening. But for this kill, you wanted to be seen for every blow. Every cut. You wanted that creature to bleed.

"What part should I ta—"

Canine's humorous taunting fell short as he caught sight of you standing by that god-awful chair with your blades in hand.

"You know... I was thinking the same thing myself." The voice that left your lips was yours, but also not. You dragged one of your knives along the arm of the chair, drawing a hiss of metal on metal. "But then... I thought of that disgusting tongue of yours, and I knew I'd have to cut it out."

"How did you get free?"

You shrugged. "Does it matter now?"

Canine's mouth stripped back, baring razor-sharp teeth. "I'll tear you to pieces."

You smiled, vicious and cruel. "How about you step into the light and try."

The creature lunged at you on all-fours, jaw snapping towards your neck. You spun away, nicking the skin of his arm enough to draw just a drop of blood. He collided with the ground, facing you once more. "There'll be nothing left of you for your precious villain to find."

"Try."

Rage filled his features as he advanced again, his movements fast and vicious. Your counters were of lethal accuracy, taking one small cut at a time, savouring the bite of pain on his face each time your blade met true.

Somewhere in the haze of movement, you heard a crash from outside. Heard screaming and wails of pain. But you did not care. Not right now.

For once, it was not anger fuelling you. Not the inferno of vengeance that usually swirled in your chest. This. This was deathly calm. It was as if the world was moving slower, and you were fighting to some rhythm — some melody — that nobody but you could hear.

It was another dance, but this time, your opponent was not your equal.

A bark of pure pain left him as you cut deeper, opening a wound along his abdomen that splattered blood across the floor as he fell, rolling across the concrete. He struggled to his feet again, saliva dropping from his teeth as he settled his murderous gaze on you.

"Submit."

His roar of denial sounded more monster than human, and you bent low as he charged for you once more, spinning away to drag your knives along the side of his body. Even then, he did not stop attacking, though those attempts were little more than the embers of a dying rage. Sloppy.

Canine was on his feet now, lunging for you as a man, his beastly hands reaching for your throat. You sliced them both off cleanly, blood spraying over your skin as he fell to his knees, clutching the bloodied stumps you left behind. His severed hands rolled several feet away.

You knelt in the puddle of blood forming around his body.

His words left him in wet rasps. "I... submit."

"Too late."

One clean strike, between his ribs, through his heart.

You picked up your bloodied knives and stood, limping towards somewhere. But your body had given up, the last of your strength leaking from you with every laboured movement. Blood was dripping from the wound that had re-opened on your leg, trailing after you across the concrete.

And then you collapsed, but you could not feel the pain of it. Not anymore.

So you lay there, reaching for something as the world turned blue around you. There were footsteps, and you didn't have the strength to hope it was anything but death coming to claim you.

Blue. It was all you could see.

What a pretty colour.

You heard a curse as someone knelt beside you, pulling you into their lap.

"Shit. Princess, come on."

You cracked your eyes open. "Dabi?"

He was scanning your body, his face twisted between rage and concern. His piercing blue eyes turned on you. "I've got you, princess."

Tears were lining your eyes again, your feeble heart squeezing painfully as you looked up at him. It wasn't real. Maybe you truly were dead already.  "Why are you here? How...?"

"Why the fuck do you think I'm here?" The teasing smirk that curled his lips tore something open in you. He moved to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Maybe." You smiled softly. "I was just convinced I was going to die here."

His expression twisted into something else. "I'd never let that happen, princess. I... I should have been here sooner. I'm sorry."

"You're apologising to me?" Your smile grew. "Maybe I am dead already."

Dabi scoffed, but you saw the grin beneath it. "Come on, we need to get you out of here."

"What about Hami?"

Dabi scooped you up, letting your head fall against his shoulder. The scent of sugar and smoke washed over you, taking you somewhere better. "Ash."

"Good."

His arms tightened around you as he carried you towards the exit, and you spent that time trying to convince yourself that you were indeed still breathing, even though you could barely feel your body.

Just before you left that place behind, you peeked your gaze over Dabi's shoulder, searching every dark corner high above, wondering if you'd catch a glimpse of those beautiful crimson wings.

Chapter Text

Dabi's arms were comforting and warm in the way that you craved them to be, but the more you sank into that feeling, the more you felt like you were burning instead.

Your mind was a storm of spiraling thoughts, and you felt like the porcelain mask holding all of your emotions at bay was beginning to crack. Every altercation you shared with Dabi in recent memory was far from... amicable. And then you'd been taken. And he came for you.

And you were so fucking happy that he did. But it didn't heal the wound in your chest that had been festering for so long already. Didn't change how you had admitted to harbouring feelings for the first time in your entire life only to be so ruthlessly shot down. And the worst part of all was that you knew deep down he was lying, and you just weren't enough to make a villain speak the truth.

But then again, who were you to demand the truth, when you could not — or would not — offer it in return.

"You're being very... quiet."

It was true. You'd barely said a word since he carried you from that place and warped you both back to the front of your headquarters.

"I... don't have anything to say."

Dabi's arms tightened around you ever-so-slightly. "Then fight with me instead."

The words speared through you, pricking tears in your eyes. What is with all the crying today? You blinked them away. "I don't have any fight left in me."

He was looking at you then. Those captivating blue eyes were pained despite the playful smirk he pasted on his lips. "You and I both know that isn't true."

You smiled softly, but like his, it didn't quite reach your eyes. "Is that what you want? You want me to fight with you?"

The corner of his mouth picked up, this time more genuine. "Isn't that what we do?"

You rolled your eyes, but the smile didn't leave you. "You lost that privilege when you decided to be an asshole."

His laugh skittered over you. "I've always been an asshole."

"More of an asshole, then."

Dabi carried you through the building, the chatter of people an accompaniment to your conversation. But like always, you couldn't find it within you to care about anything but him.

"So you're not going to talk to me anymore?"

He didn't attempt to hide the amusement in his voice at the likely thought of how far in vain your attempts to avoid him would end up being.

You merely sighed. "It would be the least you deserve."

Dabi chuckled. "Fine then, princess." His gaze swept over you. "I'll be the one to do the talking. But first, let's get you taken care of."

The promise in his words constricted that sorry organ in your chest you were starting to wish you could remove. He deposited you in the infirmary, grunting an order at the poor doctor who scrambled to attention at his tone. You could only roll your eyes and wait as you were poked and prodded, cleaned, and bandaged while Dabi watched on from the corner of the room.

You hissed in pain as the bite wound on your calf was tended to.

"Careful."

The warning came in the form of a growl from the insufferable villain lurking in the corner of the room. You glared at Dabi, turning your attention to the physician whose eyes were as wide as saucers. "Ignore him. He was just leaving."

Dabi's brows quirked up, a smirk on his two-tone lips. "Was I?"

"Yes, you were." You flicked your wrist, shooing him. "Go and occupy yourself for fifteen minutes. I'll still be here when you return."

Probably in the most surprising turn of events, Dabi did as you ordered without so much as blinking, though that smirk never left his face. You motioned for the doctor to continue, glad he looked a little less like he might die of a heart attack at any moment.

Was this guy kidnapped from a hospital or something?

You swiftly decided you'd rather not know.

"Nyx!" Toga's chirping voice filled the room as she bounded inside, dashing towards you. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy," you grumbled, feeling the exhaustion as it started to hit. "Had an eventful couple of days."

"We were so worried," Toga explained, throwing her arms around you. "Especially Jin. And whatever Dabi says, he was pretty freaked out too. He almost burned the whole place down when he found out you'd been taken."

At least a small part of you was curious what that might have looked like.

"Spinner and Mr. Compress are making you soup so you can heal up faster." Toga paused, a wicked little grin spreading across her pretty face. "Did you cut them?"

"Of course," you replied, noticing how the doctor bristled at your response and the vengeful gleam in your eye. "You would have been proud."

Toga giggled, squeezing you a little tighter. "I'm glad to have you back."

You opened your mouth to reply when Dabi appeared, clearing his throat to get both of your attention. Toga released you reluctantly, stepping away as Dabi offered you a cup of steaming liquid.

"What's this?"

Dabi shrugged. "Tea."

Your incredulity was apparent. "You brought me... tea?" Amusement curled your lips into a grin. "Maybe I really am dead."

"Just take it." He offered it again and this time you accepted, still grinning softly. "I had the magician make it. You like this stuff, don't you?"

"I do." You brought it to your lips, taking a small sip. "Thank you."

He scratched the back of his neck, his gaze elsewhere. "No problem."

Toga's eyes flicked between you both, her grin widening. "I'm going to go," she announced, backing towards the door. "I'll see you later."

You offered her a weak wave as Dabi turned his attention to the doctor.

"Are you finished?" He questioned and the poor guy nodded rapidly. "Good. Now get out."

You watched him scarper away over the lip of your teacup, mildly amused. "Be nice."

Dabi's gaze settled on you. "No."

You shrugged, taking another sip. "Worth a try."

The villain dug his hands into his pockets, his gaze sweeping over you as he noted every place your skin was bandaged. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Why did you come for me, Dabi?"

You asked the question, blunt and plain, because you didn't have the energy to dance around the issue any longer. Either he admitted it, or you would make sure your heart never told the truth ever again.

"I would never have left you there."

That wound in your chest began to bleed once more. "Did you come for me as my superior, or did you come for me because you care?"

His jaw tightened. "Princess..."

You placed your cup down and slid off the infirmary bed, limping your sorry ass towards the door. Not again. Never again.

"Nyx, please." The sound of your name on his lips almost destroyed you. "Just wait."

"I'm not doing this again, Dabi." You made no further attempt to move but also did not turn to face him. "I just... can't."

He caught your hand in his before you could reach for the handle, tugging you to him. "I said I'd talk. Just sit, princess. Please."

You pursed your lips. "Okay." You let him guide you back to the bed, picking up your discarded teacup to take another sip. "But only since you said please twice."

A lopsided grin appeared on his pretty lips. "This is what you do to me."

You gazed at him over the rim of your cup. "You'll have to do better than that."

Dabi's eyes glittered with amusement. "You know that I want you."

"Yes." You set down the cup, one brow raised. "You've made that part abundantly clear."

"You're making this difficult."

You laughed. "What a shame it would be for me to make this difficult for you."

His gaze captured you. "Are you going to torture me forever?"

"Yes."

A dark smirk curled his lips. "Good."

You rolled your eyes, smiling. "Continue, then."

His jaw locked again, mildly frustrated, but the mirth in his eyes told you he adored the challenge as much as you did.

"I... Fuck. Why is this so hard?"

You softened slightly, understanding just a little what it felt like to let go of those walls you'd so carefully erected around yourself.

"Dabi," you breathed, your voice as soft as silk. "Give me one truth."

His cerulean eyes seemed to glow as he gazed at you, and in that moment he looked like some kind of dark prince. The kind that stole your soul with one enchanted kiss, only you would have given yours willingly.

"I thought I was going to lose my mind, princess. If I hadn't been able to get you back I think I might have set the entire world on fire."

You inhaled a breath, his words a brand on your heart.

"That night, in the hallway, I never wanted you to see me like that." His eyes were a blazing inferno now, but you had no fear of flame. "I... Fuck. You were just so... perfect."

He reached for you, brushing his fingertips down your jaw.

"But I can't give you what you want. At least not... yet."

You shook off his touch, hurt. "What do you mean?"

Dabi knelt before you, forcing you to look at him, while his hands slid up the backs of your calves. "There's something I need to do first. Something I need to... finish or else I can't be free of it. I need you to trust me, princess."

You could barely stand to look at him. "You won't tell me?"

"I will," he said. "I'll tell you everything. I just need... time."

God, you were so fucking hurt.

"It's not good enough." Your words were a whisper against the silence. "I don't even know who you are."

And you don't know who I am.

"I... Shit, Nyx. I haven't cared about a fucking thing in my life until you. Give me time. I'll end this."

Your chest felt like it was caving in.

"End what, Dabi?"

His eyes were pleading. Begging. Never once had he looked at you that way. It was the most he'd ever given you, and yet it was just not enough.

"I'll tell you everything. Just let me do this first."

Dabi looked at you as if you were the only bright light in the darkness he dwelled in. His eyes were the same brilliant blue as the flames flickering within him. Either he would be your salvation, or he would be your ruin.

And how deliciously torturous that ruin would taste.

"Do whatever it is you need to do." Your words were stronger now, though you'd never felt so weak. "But I am not yours. Not with so many secrets between us."

The villain kneeling before you nodded, his lips curving into a delectably wicked smirk. And oh how you adored the sight of it. "I'll make you mine, princess. One way or another."

You smirked at him. "Or maybe I'll just continue torturing you forever."

Dabi grinned at you. "I'll take that." He rose to his feet. "Just one more thing."

You raised a brow. "And what's that?"

He leaned in, his words a soft caress against your skin. "Keep fighting with me, princess."

How could you say no?

***

When you finally managed to make it to your bed, you slept for an entire day. At some point, you'd awoken only to eat something and fall immediately back into the deepest slumber you'd ever had in your life. You didn't dream of heroes and villains. In fact, you didn't dream of anything at all. But when you woke, your thoughts took you elsewhere.

Despite how your conversation with Dabi went, you felt less... tumultuous than usual. But your ever-growing curiosity about what it was he wouldn't tell you needed to be sated sooner or later. If that required even more sleuthing, then so be it.

Your entire body ached as you stood, and every step sent a lightning bolt of pain up your leg. But you were done lying down. And besides, there was something you needed to do.

It was just before midnight and the city was a buzz of energy and multicoloured light. You spent some time watching the world go by before you plucked up the courage to make the journey to Hawks' apartment.

You found him atop the roof, legs dangling off the edge as he watched that same world go by.

He noticed your presence immediately and stood. "Dove?"

And how beautiful he looked to you, the city light a glow on his golden skin. Your mind wandered to the sight of him knelt before you, freeing you from your binds. In your fear and hope you'd reached for him and found him there. Real. Warm. It cleaved you open in a way you'd not felt before.

"Hawks."

The breeze brushed through his crimson wings as he strode towards you. "You should be—"

"Resting, I know." You smiled at him. "I'll be back in my bed in no time, don't worry."

His golden eyes swept over you. "You're... okay?"

You winked at him. "Can't say the same for the other guys."

A grin spread across his lips. "I'm glad to hear it." He stepped closer. "What are you doing here, dove?"

"You came for me."

The words sent your already rapid heart into a frenzy, even though it was you who spoke them.

"I did." His golden eyes captivated you. "I wasn't the only one, it seemed."

You didn't miss the flash of emotion on his face, though it was gone before you could blink. He was always so much better than you at hiding himself.

"Why?"

Hawks grinned at you. Against the backdrop of night, he was truly devastating. "Do I need to explain myself to you, dove? Because I think you already have a fair idea."

Your heartbeat was a crescendo with no apparent end.

"I was breaking, and you were there."

Those golden eyes sliced through you, laying you bare. What could he see within you now?

"You're not capable of breaking."

You stepped a little closer, delighting in how his wings stiffened despite how calm he pretended to be. If you placed your hand over his heart, would it beat as fast as yours?

"I came here because I wanted to thank you." You stepped onto your tippy-toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering as the scent of wind and vanilla engulfed your senses. "So thank you."

Hawks' hand slid up your arm, stopping you from pulling away entirely. "You still owe me a prize, dove."

"Have you decided what you want?"

He nodded. "There's somewhere I want to take you soon."

"Oh?" You quirked a brow. "And where is that?"

Hawks released you, the smirk on his lips pure seduction. "Now that would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?"

Chapter Text

A week passed by before you knew it, and anticipation loomed as you drew closer to Shigaraki's return without any new information on his location. Toga had spent the week training with you as you rehabilitated from the injuries you'd gathered over the past while, and you were more than glad for the distraction. Your leg was almost healed with the help of a couple of healing quirks and multiple trips to the infirmary. At night, you used your shadows to continue sleuthing.

Dabi was far more active than usual, and your curiosity had you watching his movements more often than not. His dealings with Skeptic in the dead of night hadn't stopped, and you were drawn to the conclusion that whatever he was hiding had something to do with those conversations. Unfortunately for you, Skeptic suddenly decided to keep his lights on at all times. Dabi's doing, most likely. Though it made you wonder what exactly he was so focused on keeping from you, and why he would think you'd go snooping.

Your first thought was that maybe he didn't trust you, and never had. The second was that his observance had paid off, and he knew you a little better than you thought he did.

You still hadn't forgotten the charred remnants of the photo you'd found, though without the remainder of it you were searching in the dark. Flame quirks weren't uncommon, and though you'd searched through every resource at your disposal for a link matching Dabi to any record of children born with that kind of quirk, you'd come up blank. Unusually so. The only interesting thing you managed to find was a police report of a wildfire on Sekoto Peak a decade ago that could only be explained by an errant quirk, though all other records of it seemed to be buried.

With Dabi occupied for the day and Toga away with Twice, you were utterly bored. Enough so that you'd taken multiple laps around the compound in search of anything remotely interesting. Geten offering to watch a movie with you evidently hadn't made the cut. Defeated, you trudged back to your room to take another nap. Only, when you stepped inside, something caught your eye.

A slight smile graced your lips as you picked up the feather lying on top of your pillow, along with a note scrawled in pretty black ink.

Meet me at 7.
You won't need your knives.

You turned it over, reading an address printed on the back. "Mildly interesting." But given the way your heart skipped a beat, that was a complete and utter lie. You ran your finger along the spine of the feather he left you. "I'll see you at seven, Hawks."

***

Admittedly, you were slightly excited. Enough that you'd returned to your apartment in the city with a few hours to spare and ransacked every drawer in your bedroom to find what could only be the perfect outfit. You didn't entirely know why you were so focused on this, but given you'd never been taken on an actual date before, that might have something to do with it.

It's not a date, you scolded yourself. Definitely not.

If it was that would... complicate things. Your feelings had already gotten you in enough trouble with that other person. And Hawks, he was... different from you. Someone like him couldn't... Well, it didn't matter because it most certainly wasn't a date.

Regardless, you chose a long, sleek, black dress you'd bought with no idea if you'd ever wear it, along with a coat of the same shade to wear over it, given the chill still in the air. The fabric clung to you better than your catsuit did, and you couldn't help the saccharine little smirk that curled your lips as you twirled for yourself in the mirror. The neckline dipped low enough to give a taste but left wanting for more.

Just perfect.

You left your hair unbound and picked out some makeup to compliment the outfit. Of course, you carefully selected a shade of crimson for your lips that just happened to be the same as his wings. The finishing touches were a pair of chunky black heels and a set of pearl earrings.

I hope you're ready, birdy.

The address led you through the city, past streets of bustling life, to a quieter street in the upper-class area of the district. You'd been too engrossed in your phone and almost didn't notice the person equally as distracted passing you until his shoulder collided with yours.

"Sorry!" The young man exclaimed, his grey eyes meeting yours. "I wasn't looking... Oh, shit."

"It's okay," you replied, smiling. "I was also pretty distracted." You studied him, your brows knitting together. "You look... kind of familiar. Have I met you before?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting over you. "I... don't think so. I— well... I should... get going?"

"Wait!" You bent low, plucking a card from the ground that had fallen from his pocket. You flipped it over. "You dropped this." You read over the name. "Natsuo Todoroki."

"I— thanks." He took the card from you, a blush staining his cheeks. "I gotta go. Bye!"

You watched him disappear, amused.

How strange.

You arrived at the address just before seven, given your inability to be late even if you tried. An attendant opened the outside door for you, and you stepped through into what seemed to be both a bar and a restaurant. The air hummed with the melody of jazz and the laughter of many. Suddenly, you felt a little more than nervous.

"Name?"

The voice came from a shrewd-looking woman standing behind a podium. She paused tapping at the screen before her to study you over the top of her glasses.

"I... I'm meeting someone here?" If you ever possessed confidence, it had abandoned you at that moment. "I might be early. It's... Hawks—"

"There you are, dove." You loosed a breath as Hawks came into view. He flashed the attendant a smile that would make any self-respecting woman weak at the knees. "She's with me."

If you thought the sight of him in his hero costume was devastating, this was something else entirely. And it was only a fucking white shirt. Even if it clung to his biceps like it would split apart at any moment. Even if you could see the visible outline of his wide, sculpted chest. And the shoulders...

Stop it, Nyx.

You averted your eyes, hoping your makeup hid the cherry red blush likely forming on your cheeks.

The attendant only nodded, snapping her fingers to another lady who glided over to you. "May I take your coat?"

You nodded softly.

"Let me help," Hawks said, stepping behind you to hold the coat as you slid out of it. "You look ravishing, dove."

You raised a brow, amused. "You haven't even seen the dress yet."

His words brushed against the nape of your neck. "I don't need to."

Shameless fucking flirt.

"Are you sure this is the right place to bring me? What if someone sees us?"

Hawks stepped to the side of you once again, offering you an arm. "This place is special." You wrapped your fingers around his forearm. "It's for pro heroes and those they choose to share it with. A place to relax a little without the risk of paparazzi or anything else. Nothing outside gets in here, and nothing inside gets out. That's the beauty of it."

And sure enough, when you glanced around, you noticed more than a few notable figures in the hero charts.

"Are you ready?"

You could only nod as he walked you past table after table, the eyes of many swiveling in your direction. Even if no words of it would be spoken outside of this building, your presence beside Hawks had not gone unnoticed. Never before had you felt so... exposed. So naked.

You squeezed his arm. "People are looking at me."

He leaned closer to you, his words brushing the shell of your ear. "Let them look, dove. You were not made to hide in the shadows forever."

You looked at him, then. Truly looked. "Is that why you took me here?"

Hawks shrugged, but the grin on his lips told you everything. "Maybe my motivations weren't purely self-interested." His eyes drank you in as if you were the sweetest ambrosia. "Or maybe they were."

You rolled your eyes, smiling. "For tonight." Your gaze caught his, snaring it. "I'll join you where it's a little brighter."

His lips brushed the shell of your ear once more. "What atrocities do I have to commit to keep you longer than just tonight?"

Your breath hitched as your reckless heart skipped a beat. "And you call me wicked."

The rumble of laughter that left him skittered down your body. "Sit, dove." He motioned to the round booth table in the back corner of the room. "Have a drink with me."

You sat, eyes gliding over to Hawks as he sat next to you. It was growing more difficult for you to stop noticing how the fabric of his shirt stretched over hard ridges of muscle. Or how annoyingly charming he was being. If you thought he was flirtatious before, something told you this night would destroy you entirely. But then again...

Two can play that game. 

The waiter poured you a glass of water as you perused the cocktail menu. "Gin martini," you said once you decided. "Hawks?"

"I'll have the same."

You smirked. "Never took you for a gin guy."

His sharp eyes glittered with amusement. "I can surprise you."

"Is that so?" You chewed on your lip in thought. "Then tell me something about you that nobody knows."

Hawks' grin was infectious. He angled his body towards you, throwing his arm over the back of the round leather seat. "Let's see..." He paused, thinking. "Sometimes I look at fan pages of myself if I'm feeling down."

You erupted in laughter, almost folding over in pure joy. "No fucking way."

"Some of those pictures look majestic."

The sides of your body ached from laughing so hard. "You are so dramatic. How did I not realise this before?"

Hawks shrugged, the smile never leaving him. "You mean number two hero, notorious for his charming arrogance and heroic spectacles, and you didn't realise?"

You cocked a brow, grinning. "Well, at least you're self-aware." You flicked your gaze over him, assessing. "Though I believe there's another version of you hiding beneath that impressive ego. I'd like to meet him, too."

His pretty golden eyes cut right through you. "We have all night, don't we?"

"We do," you said as the waiter placed a martini down. You picked it up as Hawks did the same. "Cheers to my charmingly arrogant companion."

He clinked his glass against yours. "Cheers to you, dove."

You took a sip, pleasantly impressed by the smoothness of the taste. "It's good." Another pair of waiters arrived with a three-tier trolly filled with a dozen plates of varying dishes. "What's all this?"

Hawks shrugged. "I just ordered us a selection of everything. Are you hungry?"

You eyed the colourful display of food before you with obvious temptation. "I could eat."

He chuckled softly to himself. "Enjoy."

By the time you finished eating, you were three martinis down with a fourth on the way, pleasantly full and cheeks flushed with alcohol. Hawks laughed as he told you stories of his early days as a hero, and you listened intently while watching the way his mouth moved as he spoke each word. How was it fair that someone as perfect as him existed to torment you with his beauty? He'd become more open the more he drank, and you were starting to adore the way he looked at you as he talked of his past.

"When did it get so full in here?" you asked, noticing the groups standing around and drinking by the bar.

"Just wait," Hawks said, grinning. "This place is best after hours. I hope you like dancing, dove."

You tossed him a wry smile. "I recall dancing with a certain winged hero months ago. He was... adequate."

He smirked, his golden eyes alight at the challenge. "I think he was more than adequate and you know it."

You grinned at him over the rim of your martini glass. "I guess he'll have to remind me."

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it wasn't. But you wanted desperately to stop pretending like he hadn't taken a little piece of you with every teasing comment and arrogant grin. Seeing him knelt before you and feeling that vicious hope as you reached for him had branded your very soul with its image. But you couldn't.

You just couldn't.

How could you feel for more than one person? You were too warped. Too broken. He would never want you if he knew who you truly were. Neither of them would, and yet you demanded that devastation as if your heart was made of diamond and not of glass.

"Where have you gone, dove?"

Hawks' voice brought you back to the present. God, even the way he looked at you then. Like you were as bright as he was. He was so fucking beautiful it hurt. Every drag of his pretty golden eyes over you felt like a knife slicing through your skin to your core. And that kind of pain was the most glorious of all.

"Dance with me, Hawks."

His eyes softened as they took you in. The smile that followed would haunt your dreams for all eternity.

Hawks stood and offered you his hand. You slid your palm over his, letting him lead you to the floor that had been cleared of tables. Some people were swaying to the soft melody of jazz, but few were actually dancing. You smiled at him as you looped your hands around his neck.

"Are people watching?"

His hands slid over your waist. Slow. Steady. You felt every nerve he ignited like a spark of electricity. Was it wrong to want to know what his hands would feel like on your bare skin?

Hawks' mouth moved to your ear as he began to sway with you. "Yes. Does that make you nervous?"

His words brushed over your skin like a touch, and you had to stop yourself from leaning your head back.

"No," you said as his wings curved around you and his thumbs began to trace idle circles at your waist. It was perfect torture. "I want them to look at me."

His soft laughter brushed over you as he twirled you into a spin before dragging you back into his arms once again. "You are shining, dove."

Hawks' eyes captured you, or maybe it was you who captured him. Either way, you were completely lost to him. When had he snared you so? Or were you always caught in that inevitability from the first moment he saw you? It was cursed. Every cruel, beautiful bit of it. And yet you never had the strength to stop yourself.

"Why do I feel like I'm shining just for you?"

Chapter Text

"Why do I feel like I'm shining just for you?"

Hawks' fingers tightened ever-so-slightly on your waist, his grip drawing you closer. The way he looked at you then was a damning mix between enamoured and tortured, and something told you that if you let yourself fall to him, he would never ever let you go.

Those wicked fingers of his began their cruel torment once more, brushing along the sides of your ribs and down to your hips before repeating the motion. It took everything you had not to fall weak at your knees when his lips brushed your ear. "That's because you are." His thumbs bit into the fabric of your dress, drawing a line of sharp heat along your skin. "And maybe I am selfish, dove. I want to keep you for myself."

You laughed softly, despite how viciously your heart was hammering. "Not very heroic of you, is it Hawks?"

His amusement tumbled over your body. Those fucking hands of his never ceased their torment. He moved his mouth from your ear to meet your gaze. "Maybe I can't be a hero when it comes to you."

The one singular thread of your resolve was holding on for dear life as his gaze flicked to your lips. How could you stand before your wicked angel of sin and not get lost in those enchanting golden eyes? How could you have lost before you even began?

"Hawks—"

You weren't sure what you were going to say, but the abrupt change of tempo from soft jazz to dance snapped you from the trance you'd fallen under. You grinned up at the beautiful hero before you. "Do you like tequila?"

A smirk spread across his lips. "Wicked girl."

You interlaced your fingers with his and tugged him towards the bar before ordering a shot each for both of you. He looked so carefree beneath the dim, twinkling lights of the venue and maybe, just maybe, you wanted to be selfish and keep that version of him all to yourself.

The two tiny glasses of amber liquid were placed before you, along with the required salt and lemon wedges. "Together?"

Hawks smirked at you before nodding and you both threw back the shot, biting deep into the bitter lemon as the alcohol burned a path down your throat.

He grasped your hand again, tugging you back towards the floor. "I'm not done dancing with you yet."

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you let him drag you deeper into the crowd of bodies. Music thrummed through your body as Hawks drew you closer once more, his hands spreading over your waist.

Hawks' eyes glided over you, a grin spreading over his pretty lips. "Have I told you that you're absolutely beautiful?"

You laughed, blushing. "You did."

He drew you closer, his mouth brushing your ear again. "Then I'm glad I told you again."

For a moment, you let yourself sink into him as his fingers brushed circles over your hips. His magnificent wings curved around you, and you were beginning to adore how that made you feel. The scent of him surrounding you was intoxicating, and the more you stared at those soft, crimson feathers the more you wanted to reach out and touch them. What would they feel like against your bare skin? What achingly lovely image would you see if you were splayed beneath him staring up at those wonderful outstretched wings?

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you heard the sensible part of you scolding you for the wicked thoughts you were feeding into. But right now, you didn't care if it was wrong. You could barely resist the pull you felt towards him.

You reached for him, tentative at first, as you brushed your fingers down the inside of his beautiful wing. How is it possible for something to be so soft? You felt Hawks stiffen and then relax, and you continued your exploration as you swayed to some beat you barely cared to hear. At some point, you tore your gaze from his wings to look up at his face. That wicked little part of you delighted in how his eyes fluttered shut as you dragged your fingers through his feathers, and how his heart drummed faster as his grip on your hips tightened and he pressed your body closer to his.

"Dove."

His nickname for you came out breathless and tortured.

You splayed your fingers wide, feeling every silky feather beneath your palm. It was more than you could ever have imagined, and it only made you want more. "Yes?"

Hawks' eyes descended to your lips, the last threads of his own waning restraint. He folded you to him, his mouth against the shell of your ear as if he could not bear to look at you any longer. "You might want to stop doing that unless you want me to have you right here."

You withdrew your fingers, a cherry blush staining your cheeks at the thought. Hawks spun you around, pressing your back tight to his chest as his hands began to trail from the underside of your breasts to your hips. And god, how you wished you could feel that devastating touch against your bare skin.

Hawks' mouth brushed over the arch of your neck, and you couldn't help but offer him complete access. "It's driving me crazy..."

The caress of his words against that sensitive skin was almost too much to bear.

"Wondering what you taste like."

The torturous strokes of his fingers made you utterly weak to him. If only he knew that he owned you so completely in that moment.

"What you would feel like wrapped around me."

His mouth pressed a delicate kiss to the arch of your throat.

"My wicked little dove."

The drag of his fingers on your skin and the brush of his words against your neck had you so completely consumed by him. You were putty in his hands and you didn't even realise you were melting. How was that fair? How could your foolish heart tumble when it was barely whole enough to fall?

You turned around to face him again, tracing your hands over the thick pads of muscle on his chest before looping them around his neck once more. "Are you playing with me, birdy?"

Hawks' golden eyes twinkled with wicked desire. "I'm just returning the favour."

You grinned at him, leaning in until your lips were a centimeter from his. Hawks' entire body tensed, and you liked that control a little too much. "You know," you said, drawing out every word as the scent of him enveloped you. "I'm beginning to like this version of you quite a bit. I always knew you had a dark side."

He chuckled, his fingers squeezing your hips as he drew you closer. "Maybe I understand you better than you think."

A smirk slid over your lips. "Quite a bold statement." You stepped out of his hold, your eyes glittering as you beckoned him after you. "Come on."

Hawks raised a brow but followed after you. "And where are we going?"

You glanced at him over your shoulder. "I recall you promising you'd take me flying. What do you say?"

The smile that graced his perfect face could have ended wars as well as incite them. "Don't tease me, dove."

You laughed, placing an exaggerated hand over your heart. "Me? Never."

Outside, the cool air was a welcome reprieve from the heat of a dozen dancing bodies. You leaned your head back, inhaling a deep breath as you stared up at the stars. When you met Hawks' gaze again, you knew he'd been watching you the whole time.

"How about we fly from my favourite spot?" Hawks' eyes twinkled with mirth as he pointed at the tallest skyscraper in the district. The same one you'd found him on once before. "Or are you scared?"

You grinned at him, welcoming the vicious stab of fear. "I don't do things in halves." You glanced up at the towering building. "Race you there?"

"You're on, dove."

Before he could take a lead on you, you vanished into shadow, weaving between streetlights and ascending the side of the nearest building. It took you less than two minutes to make it to the top of that skyscraper, and your stomach flipped as you stepped back into corporal form.

Hawks landed a moment after you. "You win this one."

You turned away from the open edge to face him, the breeze billowing through the skirt of your dress. A smirk graced your lips. "Do I get a prize this time?"

He reached for you, fingertips trailing down the sides of your arms. "Anything you want, dove."

"Anything?" You took a half step closer, gazing up at those beautiful golden eyes. Against the backdrop of stars, he took your breath away. "I'll keep that in mind."

Hawks' fingers paused at your wrists. "Are you ready?"

You glanced over your shoulder, your stomach flipping as you caught sight of how high up you truly were. The world below was nothing but tiny dots of coloured light.

"Are you afraid of flying?"

Hawks' words drifted to you, coaxing your gaze back to his. Even you had to admit, the little half-smile that graced his lips as he watched you was viciously attractive.

You gave him a smile of your own. "Maybe I'm just afraid of falling."

Those enchanting golden eyes snared you. "Do you trust me, dove?"

It wasn't in your nature to trust. It never had been before. But yet, somehow, you realised that you did indeed trust the winged hero that stood before you. With your life. If you weren't so afraid of falling, maybe you could trust him with your heart, too.

You nodded in response. The answering grin that lit his face made your bruised heart skip yet another beat.

"Hold on." Hawks didn't give you a chance to back out as he scooped you into his arms. You looped your arms around his neck, squeezing tight. The delicious scent of him struck you like a blow. "I've got you, I promise."

And then he stepped off the edge.

It took everything you had not to scream as you freely fell from the top of the sky. Hawks' grip on you was solid, but your thunderous heart didn't care. You felt the air catch his wings, halting your descent as you began to glide.

"Open your eyes, dove."

Hawks' words coaxed the fear from you, leaving behind only the high of exhilaration. You looked at him first, at the waves of gold that shimmered beneath the moonlight, strewn by the wind that dragged through them. He was looking at you too. Smiling, even. And he never looked more beautiful to you than he did in that moment. This was a version of him without masks. This was the Hawks only you could see.

Even your memory would not do the devastation of that image justice. The only place he was truly free — truly himself — was the sky. And how it pained you to know that he saw those beautiful wings as a burden. How the world had taken a gift so pure and turned it into a weapon to be soiled and stained. Just like the soul you once owned. Just like you.

"Still scared?"

Hawks' teasing voice captured your attention, and you shook your head. "Maybe falling wouldn't be so bad. I can always enjoy the view."

A rumble of amusement left him. "I can catch you."

A smile lingered on your lips. "Promise?"

His golden eyes twinkled beneath the moonlight. "I promise."

Time had seemed to slip away from you as you glided over the world. Like he had once said you would, you loved every minute you spent in the sky. If that was just a taste of the freedom he savoured up there, you understood why he fought so hard for a world where he never needed to land.

As you glided to his apartment balcony, you found yourself wishing that wouldn't be the last time you'd taste the sky in his arms.

"We're even now," you said as Hawks set you down. His hands lingered at your waist.

He grinned at you. "Not nearly."

For once, you could read every emotion on his face. He didn't try to hide a single one. Not even the barely restrained desire swimming in those depthless golden eyes.

And you felt it as if it was palpable. That exhilarated energy. The inhibitions that had chipped away with every moment you shared. You couldn't even blame it on the intoxication. Not when he was far more intoxicating than any liquid that had ever touched your lips.

Hawks drew you closer. "Tell me, dove." His hands came up to cup your shoulders, his thumbs brushing over the arch of your neck. "Tell me why the thought of him with you is driving me crazy?"

Your chest cleaved in two. "Hawks—"

"I know he cares for you." The desire in his eyes turned pained. "I saw it when he came for you too."

You broke from him, wrapping your arms around yourself. "It's not that simple and you know it. You know what I have to do."

Hawks reached for you again, catching your wrists in his hands. You let him tug you back to him. "I know better than anyone." His gaze never wavered from you. "And I know that you care for him too."

"Then why?" It hurt you to hear the crack in your own voice. "Why take me out? Why do all this?"

"Because I know what this costs." The way he looked at you split you open. Every vile, wretched piece of you on display. "And I care—"

You stepped back, shaking your head. "You don't know anything, Hawks. You wouldn't... you wouldn't if you did."

You couldn't even say the word. Couldn't even breathe it into existence because beneath it all you could never believe you were worthy of it. Not with him. How could he accept every wretched bit of you when you couldn't accept yourself? You were selfish, cruel, and broken. A worse kind of monster than those you hunted. And he was a hero. He was bright and beautiful and everything that you could never be.

Hawks claimed the step you took away from him, refusing to let you retreat. "Don't you get it, dove? I would do anything to get what I want. No matter the price or consequence. Does that sound like a true hero to you?"

Your back hit his balcony railing, leaving nowhere else to go. "Hawks..."

His gaze sliced through you, right down to your blackened heart. "And do you know what I want now, dove?"

It hurt you to look at him. Hurt you to see the truth in his pretty golden eyes because you couldn't face it. And yet, there was nothing in the universe that could have torn your eyes from his.

"Tell me."

You shook your head, wishing you could tear your gaze away from him and save yourself from the pain in his eyes. "I can't."

Hawks' hand slid to your jaw, tilting your face to meet his. There was no escape. From him. Or from the truth. "Then I'll tell you myself."

Your heartbeat ricocheted through you. Every nerve in your body screamed where his skin touched yours. And how desperately you wanted to lean into him. How desperately you wanted to see that wonderful view as you fell.

But you couldn't.

Your heart wasn't capable of it.

"I w—"

Hawks never got the chance to finish that sentence before you vanished into shadow and disappeared on the night's breeze.

Maybe if Hawks truly knew you, he would know how fond you are of hiding.

Chapter Text

"You're distracted."

The hiss of metal-on-metal as Toga's blade clashed against yours ricocheted through your pounding skull. She paused for a moment, waiting for your reply as she rolled her shoulders.

"I didn't sleep well."

Not a lie, but certainly not the truth either. Given the incredulous look that passed over Toga's face, she wasn't the slightest bit convinced.

"Not going to tell me?" Toga asked as she launched herself into another attack. You dodged her by a hair, your blade glancing off hers as you spun into a counter. "If it's a fight you need, I'll stop going easy."

A grin spread across your lips. "Give me hell, Toga."

And she did.

It was punishment you were after. Brutal, unending torment. After all, why else would you seek Toga out to spar the moment you opened your eyes? Surely waking with the most throbbing headache was penance enough? But no. You wanted complete and utter brutalisation because that was the only thing that would stop you from feeling. The guilt. The shame. The only thing that could stop you from facing the truth.

But it was like slapping a band-aid on a gaping wound — it soaked up some of the blood, yet you were still split open.

No punishment could be greater than facing what you had done. In the end, you were still just running from him.

Maybe the fact that you didn't dream of him was a gift of relief. Or maybe when all those memories came flooding in the second you opened your eyes, it was the perfect torture. You could only describe it as an acute kind of pain. The kind that gripped you so tightly you could do nothing but lie there and wait until it released you. No sounds. No expressions. No hiding. Just pure and unfiltered agony.

And god it had torn you apart to see the truth in his eyes, to know it in your soul and still run from it. Hawks was always so much better than you at hiding what he felt. And yet, when you looked into those beautiful golden eyes, he chose to let you see it all. Every single cursed emotion. And you ran.

Hawks wanted you. You felt the truth of it deep in your bones. He wanted you. And how easy it would have been to let him have you. For just a brief, beautiful moment, you could have. But your heart knew better.

You couldn't.

He would never catch you if he could see exactly what crawled under your skin.

This game you had become swept up in was coming to a quick, vicious close. Soon enough, you wouldn't have a heart left to feel anything at all. And you knew that monster inside you would have to come out before the end of this. There would be no hiding then. From Dabi. From Hawks. From yourself.

And maybe you would welcome the moment when you finally stopped caring. When you finally went back to who you were before the League, before Hawks ever knew you existed. It was simpler then, at least.

"Okay, you win."

Toga's croaking voice snapped you from whatever daze you'd fallen into, and you focused on your surroundings, finding her flat on her back with your knee on her chest and your knife against her throat. You stood up, offering her a hand. "Sorry, I got lost there for a minute."

Those feline eyes of hers softened. She slid her hand into yours, allowing you to tug her up. "If you decide you want to talk, I'm here."

The smile you gave her was genuine. "Thanks, Toga."

The sound of furious clapping sounded from where Compress had been seated, watching the entire sparring session while polishing his marbles. "Bravo!"

You dipped into a perfect bow. "I was only half as good because you were here to cheer me on, Mr. Compress."

The magician slapped a hand over his heart as Toga snorted a laugh. "My, Nyx. Don't toy with a poor man's heart."

You grinned at him, imagining he was blushing beneath the white mask he wore.

"Or maybe do," he added. "I rather like it."

Toga erupted into a fit of giggles and you couldn't help but follow along with her. Despite her more interesting traits, she had an infectious kind of energy even you couldn't shake.

"I need a break and some fresh air," you announced after the moment passed. "Are you both coming?"

Toga nodded, taking a place on your left side as you walked out. Compress followed along on your other side once he'd gathered up and tucked away all his marbles.

You welcomed the cool breeze that swept over you as you stepped into the early afternoon air. The entrance of the Paranormal Liberation Front headquarters was a buzz of energy as small groups of villains chatted amongst themselves. Likely plotting the damnation of modern society, you thought. Or whatever else those kinds of villains talked about in their spare time.

"Dabi is here," Toga said, waving in a direction you hadn't yet looked.

Sure enough, when you did look, you found your fiery villain's eyes on you, completely dismissive of whatever Geten was chatting so animatedly about next to him, a cigarette dangling from his two-tone lips. Dabi pushed off the column he'd been leaning against and strode towards you.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

It seemed avoiding one cause of major angst in your life meant you could no longer avoid the other. And your heart still hadn't recovered from the sight of him before you, promising that he would make you his. It was almost comical at this point how convoluted your relationships had become. Putting your heart in a blender would cause less pain.

"I've been looking for you," Dabi said as he approached, plucking the cigarette from his lips. You couldn't help but track that motion, cursing yourself for your weakness.

You rolled your eyes. "Hello to you, too. I've been with Toga and Mr. Compress all morning."

Dabi's gaze burned straight through you, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. "And last night?"

Though your heart took a backflip down into the pit of your guts, you didn't dare let it show. "Practicing leaping from tall buildings," you said sarcastically. "I didn't realise I needed to inform you of my whereabouts at all times."

Oh, how you loved the fire in his eyes. It was all too tempting to stoke it.

"I like to keep tabs on my subordinates."

You couldn't help the wicked little grin that spread over your lips at that comment. "It's a good thing I don't like doing what you want then, isn't it?"

His smirk grew. "Princess."

You gazed up at him through your lashes. "Yes?"

At some point, both Toga and Compress had made themselves scarce and you were rather glad for it, especially when Dabi took a step closer to you. "Did you wake up on the wrong side of your bed this morning?"

You shrugged, grinning still. "Or maybe I woke up on the right side."

Dabi's blue eyes were alight as he smirked down at you. And how you adored the sight of it. "So you're not going to tell me where you were?"

You shook your head. "What I do when I'm bored is none of your concern. Is it?"

"Bored," Dabi repeated, chewing on the word. The gleam in his eyes grew wicked. "You could have come to me, princess." He leaned in, his cruel, beautiful mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. "I would have been more than happy to cure it."

You made a show of shrugging and looking elsewhere. "I would say tempting, but it really isn't. And I wouldn't tell lies to my superior."

Dabi's dark laugh skittered over your skin like a caress. "Sounds like a lie to me, princess." He leaned in just a fraction of an inch, but that was all it took to send your heart into a frenzy. It didn't matter that you weren't alone and anyone could see it, he didn't seem to care. "But does it taste like one?"

He was toying with you. And it infuriated you just as much as it excited you.

You smirked up at him, refusing to concede a step back. "Just tell me you missed me and get it over with."

Another rumble of laughter. "And why would I do that?"

Your gaze snared his. "Or just lie to me, you're fond of doing that."

The dark grin that spread over his lips was torturously alluring. He was the prince of sin, capable of stealing a heart with a single kiss. And maybe it was long before that when he'd stolen yours.

"Princess."

There was no retort, no continued bantering back and forth. Instead, Dabi reached for you, folding you into his arms before you could even blink.

For a moment, you were utterly rigid, confused by his sudden display of affection. His chin came to rest atop your head, and his body was warm and comforting in the ways it had been all those times he'd held you as he carried you to safety. Was it possible to find something so gentle in the arms of a villain? You softened, unable to move even if you wanted to.

It was then you understood. He had asked you to keep fighting with him — had all but begged you as if that simple banter you shared was the most precious thing in the world to him. The realisation speared you right through that vicious, lying heart of yours.

Dabi released you but didn't step away. You looked up at him, the lump that had formed in your throat not easily swallowed down. This time, your words were softer. "So I take it you did miss me then?"

He grinned as he placed a palm on your head, shaking you gently. "Something like that."

You were smiling as you fixed the hair he'd ruffled, searching through the groups of chattering villains for where Toga and Compress had disappeared. But as if drawn to your damnation like the cursed human you were, you found a set of sharp, golden eyes instead.

The heart in your chest constricted as you met Hawks' gaze and found nothing but blankness there. It was hard to believe you were flying over the city in his arms just last night and he was smiling down at you as if the world was bright and not so bleak. Now there was nothing in those perfect golden eyes. Nothing at all.

How much did he see?

As if it mattered at all.

Twice waved excitedly at you both, and you returned the gesture with a fraction of the enthusiasm. Please don't— And then he started walking your way, dragging the winged hero in tow. Fuck my life.

"What are you guys up to?" Twice asked as he approached. "Hawks was giving me some very interesting pointers on the Meta Liberation ideology. Very boring more like."

Dabi settled his eyes on Hawks, his expression perfectly disinterested. "How good of him."

Hawks' gaze moved from Dabi to you, not bothering to hide how his eyes drifted to where Dabi's arm brushed against yours. The light in his eyes darkened just a fraction before the mask of the agent fell into place. He grinned broadly at you both, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, I'm half asleep today. I had a date last night. But yes, Twice was good enough to listen to me droning on."

"A date?" Twice exclaimed. "Who's the lucky lady?"

Your heart thundered in your chest, enough that you were sure everyone in a five-meter radius could hear it clear as day.

"Someone special," Hawks replied, his eyes catching yours before moving elsewhere. It physically pained you to look at him. "I won't say just yet, I'm still hoping for a second date."

Fuck my existence.

Dabi didn't bother trying to hide the sneer in his voice. "Not sure you'll get one?"

Hawks smirked wickedly, and suddenly your legs were made of jelly. "I will." His eyes drifted to you once more, then back to Dabi. "I'm sure of that." His phone began to ring, and he plucked it from his pocket to answer. "I need to take this." He began to walk away, pausing after a few steps to glance back. Those golden eyes caught yours. "Don't disappear on me... Twice."

Inside, you were screaming. Outside, you probably looked like you'd just eaten something sour. And the most annoying bit of all was how attractive that wicked hero looked as he walked away from you.

"I'm going to find Toga," you announced, striding in the opposite direction that Hawks disappeared in. "Our break is over."

***

The rest of the afternoon consisted of more punishment, but you were far more riled up this time around. Thankfully, sparring with Toga was the perfect outlet for your frustrations. When you were satisfied every muscle in your body was sufficiently aching, you headed for your room.

You were half jogging down a long, quiet hallway when a pair of hands reached out and grabbed you, pulling you into a darkened corner beneath the stairs. Hawks pressed you to the wall, his hand clamped over your mouth.

You raised a brow and he moved his hand away. "Hawks."

His golden eyes looked almost black in the dim light. "Dove."

"If you're looking for a second date, I could think of better ways to go about it."

He cracked a smile, but it didn't reach those blank, dark eyes. "Sure you won't just vanish on me again?"

"I can't promise anything."

Hawks leaned closer, and your traitorous breath hitched in your throat. He'd noticed it too, given the wicked smirk that curled his lips. "Are you going to run from me forever?"

"I can try."

He was close enough that you could taste his breath — feel his heat. The intoxicating scent of him drove you wild, and whatever thread of restraint you still possessed was fraying at its edges.

"Then I'll catch you, dove." Hawks' gaze was the sharp edge of a knife, and you were beginning to crave that slice of pain. "Whether you're running from me or falling for me, I'll catch you."

It tore you apart in ways you didn't know you could be ripped open. And you were scared. So fucking scared of the way he looked at you because you never ever wanted him to stop.

"This will be over soon."

You focused on him. "What will?"

Hawks' gaze searched yours, and for a brief moment, you saw fear reflected there. "All of it, dove. This game we have to play. The lies—"

You cut him off, heart pounding. "Tell me, Hawks."

Hawks took a step back from you, his beautiful bright eyes consumed wholly by darkness. You saw the burden on his shoulders and you felt it pressing down on you in equal measure. A miserable, cruel weight.

"I know where Shigaraki is."

Chapter Text

It broke you.

All of it.

Every shred of information you'd compiled against the Paranormal Liberation Front — against the League — sat in a black leather-bound dossier. Names, quirks, associations, rank. You'd picked them apart. Splayed them on pages. And you did a fucking good job with it.

Yet, every stroke of your pen felt like a blade carving those traitorous words into your skin. How, after everything, could you betray those who had become such joy in your life?

Easily, that's how.

After all, you were far worse of a monster than they ever could be. You befriended, you laughed, you... No, I guess that doesn't matter anymore, does it? And every smile was real — more real than any others you'd given in your life. Still, you tore them apart and turned them into nothing but swirls of black ink. Cold, unfeeling words.

The only page you'd hesitated on was his. Most of Dabi's fields were blank. Despite the months you'd spent with him, you knew absolutely nothing about him. In that way, maybe you had failed. Yet, somehow, it felt like the opposite. His was the only entry you allowed yourself to be selfish with. All those moments. All those memories. Every doomed, beautiful thing you'd ever felt. It was yours, and only yours.

One week after Hawks discovered Shigaraki's location, you handed over that dossier. What remained of your tortured heart went right along with it. The lines had been drawn. The heroes gathered. There was only one day left. One single day to keep living your lie. Tomorrow, the truth would come out, whether you were ready for it or not. Hawks had his target, and you had yours.

"Twice, huh?" you'd said to Hawks during the recess in your meeting with the HPSC's higher-ups. "What will you do if he won't come quietly?"

Sad Man's Parade was far too powerful an ability to leave unchecked. You knew this, deep in your bones. Just like you knew what Hawks had to do. Still, you needed to hear him say it.

"I'll kill him."

You didn't flinch. If you let yourself feel a single thing, it would shatter you irreparably. There was no place in this world for a monster who cared.

It was late in the afternoon when you were finally released from the prison of a meeting room they'd kept you in for the past four hours, drilling in over and over again what the plan was for tomorrow's attack. Hawks would take care of Twice. You would keep Dabi busy.

You couldn't dwell on what would happen once Dabi knew the truth. It terrified you more than you cared to admit. In your nightmares, you watched those fiery blue eyes turn icy cold before the light left them completely, your blade speared through his beautiful, broken heart.

Part of you wanted to run far, far away. To escape the burdens of this twisted life you led. But you never would. It was finally time to face what you were.

The breeze blew through you as you stood on the edge of a rooftop, one step between oblivion and Hell. It was an easy guess which one life was.

"Dove."

You froze, limbs locking. You hadn't heard him approach, too swept up in your spiral of thoughts. "Hawks."

The footsteps he took towards you echoed through that cavity in your chest. You half-turned, meeting his gaze.

"You have no shadows to disappear with this time."

Hawks stopped a dozen feet from you, his feathered wings ruffling in the same breeze that sliced through you. The way he looked at you now reminded you of how he did that night. Your phantom heart skipped a beat.

"I don't know," you said, your lips curling into a wicked grin. "I'm still pretty fast."

Hawks' eyes slid over you. The smirk that followed was downright sin. "Didn't I tell you before? I'll catch you."

You knew he meant it. He meant every fucking word and it pained you to hear it. No matter how far you ran, he would be there. An inevitability. And how achingly beautiful he was.

You turned fully, stepping back onto the rooftop. "I can't be what you want me to be."

Hawks took a step forward. "What makes you think I want you to be anything but what you are?"

You shook your head, mind racing. "You don't know what you're saying."

Another step. "I do, dove. I—"

"Stop it, Hawks," you interjected. "Just stop. I can't. I can't do this."

It was breaking you. Feeling this much was breaking you. There wasn't enough room inside of you for all those emotions. Not now. Not after everything.

"Dove—"

You turned, ready to run like the coward you were. "I need to go."

"You feel something for me." Hawks' words halted you. "You feel something and you're terrified because I'll see you."

You didn't turn around, but you didn't run either.  The words — the raw emotion in his voice — ripped you open. And was hurt most was that it was true.

"But I see you, dove." Hawks continued, his steps light as he closed the distance between you, slowly, as if afraid you would disappear. "I see all of you." He paused, his voice gentler than before. "And I'm here."

Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them back, turning to him. If you could not run, you would face him instead. "You have no idea what I've done. What I'm capable of. You would never look at me that way if you did."

Frustration etched itself onto his beautiful face. "Do you not think I've done worse? Do you really believe you're so completely alone in this world?" He took a final step forward, close enough now that he could reach for you if he wanted to. "Listen to me, dove, I—"

The knife was in your hand before you registered it, the sharp edge pointed at his throat. "Stop talking."

Hawks' eyes glittered with dark amusement. "You're not going to use that."

Your gaze was hard as steel. "Try me."

He reached up and gripped the blade between his fingers. "You can't scare me, dove." He pushed it aside, finding no resistance within you. A bluff, that's all it was. The smirk that curled his lips destroyed you entirely. "I'm going to talk now, and you're going to listen." His fingers slid along the blade to the hilt, brushing over your knuckles. "Do you understand?"

Your breath hitched in your throat as he pried the knife from your fingers, tossing it to the ground. What could you do but nod?

"When I saw you with him, I was so fucking jealous I wanted to kill him." Hawks' eyes burned like molten gold. "He could touch you like I couldn't. He could even make you fucking smile. I wanted to do so many things in that moment but I couldn't."

You lost the ability to breathe.

"I want to be the only one who can make you smile like that, dove."

It took more effort than it should have to speak. "You made a pretty good show of being unaffected."

His gaze captured you. "And you didn't believe me for a second." His hands trailed a path of goosebumps up your arms to grip you by the shoulders. "I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow, but I am not letting you leave here until I tell you how I feel."

You broke from him, shaking your head. "You can't. I don't want you to."

His jaw clenched. "So you can keep running from me? I know what you are, dove, but I didn't take you for a coward."

Your words were laced with venom. "Fuck you, Hawks."

"Keigo." His beautiful golden eyes sliced through you. "If you're going to curse me, call me by my real name."

It destroyed you. Shattered whatever was left of your composure. Keigo. The image of him in that moment would be branded on your soul for all eternity.

"You're right." You threw your hands up, tears pricking your eyes. "I'm scared. So fucking scared of falling for you, because if I do, I can't take it back. I have been alone all my life. All of it." Your voice broke. "I'm scared that how you look at me will change one day and I won't survive it. I'm so fucking terrified of losing control of my heart when it only started beating."

Hawks reached for you again, catching you by the elbows to tug you towards him. "Listen to me, Nyx." His gaze searched yours. "I want you." He drew you closer, those wonderful wings curving around you. "I want your teasing comments, your annoyingly endearing stubbornness." He paused, his mouth curving into a grin. "I want that fucking beautiful smile of yours. Just for me."

The way he looked at you shouldn't be possible. You didn't deserve it, not one bit. Yet, you were too selfish to let it go.

"I want to believe you." Never before had you felt so vulnerable. "I don't know how. Tell me how to let go."

"I can't, dove." His gaze was pained, tortured. "But I can promise to catch you. I fucking swear I'll catch you."

The truth in those words hit you like a blow. You didn't understand it, but it was there, right before you. And it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

"Keigo."

His name fell from your lips and you saw the final threads of his restraint snapping.

"Fuck it."

And then he kissed you.

Hawks' mouth collided with yours, desperate and needy. One hand rose to grip your neck, tugging you closer as if that hunger could never be sated. He devoured you as if you were the sweetest of air, and he was drowning. His tongue slipped past your lips. Claiming. Destroying. A dominance unlike anything you'd ever seen from him before.

And you loved every fucking bit of it.

You fisted a hand in the shirt beneath his jacket, desperate to pull him closer. Closer than skin. Closer than anything that is possible because it would never be enough. You wanted to climb him. Claim him. Taste every inch of his skin.

He was beautiful sin, and you were completely addicted.

"Dove."

Hawks broke from you first, his forehead resting against yours.

"If I continue I won't be able to stop." His words were breathless, his heart hammering beneath the hand you fisted in his shirt. "I'll fly you out of here and keep you in my bed until the only thoughts you have are of me. I won't be rushed, dove."

God, you wanted him. Desperately. You wanted to be splayed beneath him. To be destroyed by him. You wanted to lose yourself in him so completely that part of you would always remain beneath his skin.

But you had a mission to complete first.

"I'll find you tomorrow." He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. The tenderness in that gesture shattered you. "I promise."

For the sake of your heart, you hoped he could keep that promise.

***

It was almost fully dark when you found yourself on the headquarters rooftop. You should never have stepped foot on it, but you were a glutton for pain. After bearing your entire heart to Hawks, you didn't have the strength left to keep your emotions in check. And for one selfish moment, you didn't want to.

How could you pretend like the thought of him hating you didn't shred you to pieces? Tomorrow, you would banish those foolish feelings as if they'd never existed. But tonight... tonight you needed to feel them just one last time.

"Princess."

Dabi sat on the edge of the roof, legs dangling into the sea of blackness beneath. He'd half-turned upon hearing your approach, his bright blue eyes now shrouded in shadow.

Your voice was soft and laced with pain. "I found you."

"What will you do now, then?"

You furrowed your brow. "Sit with you? Unless whatever brooding moment you're having is more important?"

Dabi smirked slightly but gestured for you to take the spot next to him. "Be my guest."

You sat down, letting your legs hang over the ledge. "How long have you been up here?"

He shrugged. "A while."

"Very informative."

Dabi quirked a brow, glancing side-long at you. "Why are you here, princess?"

Because I want to look at you one last time before you hate me forever. Of course, that was the kind of truth you could never tell, no matter how heavily it weighed on you. No matter how much it hurt as your brittle heart began to crack.

Your villain had stolen a piece of your heart and it pained you to know it. And despite how doomed it was from the very beginning, it was real. All of it was real.

"Do you remember that cabin in the mountains? Back when Shigaraki was trying to earn Gigantomachia?" A single tear slipped from your eye, obscured in darkness. "I miss it. Everything is so... complicated now. I wish we could go back and stay there, if not just for a little while longer."

Dabi didn't respond, but you knew he was listening.

"Everything is changing, I guess I'm a little nostalgic." You blinked the tears away, inhaling a deep, cool breath. "I never told you this before but I never... cared about anyone before I joined the League. I just... killed who I was paid to kill and that was it. I was — am — a monster. But what I'm trying to say is... you made my stupid heart start beating again."

Still, Dabi didn't say a word. He didn't so much as blink.

"Anyway..." you continued. "I'll leave you alone now."

You made to stand, but Dabi caught your wrist, tugging you back down. His darkly beautiful face was shrouded in shadow, but you knew his eyes were on you. "Telling the truth now, are we, princess? And I didn't even need to coax it from you."

You laughed bitterly, another tear escaping your eye. "That truth is one I offer freely."

Dabi's fingers still held your wrist. "And what about my truth, princess?"

You smiled softly, taking in the shadowy image of your dark prince because it would be the last time he dared to look at you that way. "Willing to tell me something truthful? Maybe if nothing else, I managed to make your heart beat again, too."

"I never said anything about telling."

You furrowed your brows. "Then what—"

The words died in your throat as Dabi leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, one hand reaching up to cup your jaw. His kiss was soft and tender, edged in a gentle kind of desperation that shattered you into a million irreparable pieces.

You would not survive this.

Your heart would not survive this.

"Dabi."

His name tumbled from your lips as he pulled away, leaving you broken in a way he couldn't know.

"We can't go back, princess." Despite the dark, you could see his beautiful eyes clearly now. "And we can't change who we are. There's no place in a world like this for us all."

If only he knew how right he was.

Chapter Text

"I'm bored."

Toga sighed from where she stood, leaning against the railing that overlooked the headquarters foyer from the floor above. You occupied the space next to her but kept your gaze on the villains below. Watching. Waiting.

"Jin is off with Hawks again," she continued, rolling her eyes. "You'd swear he's like a celebrity or something."

You raised a brow. "Well, he kind of is."

"In the hero world," she scoffed. "Not to us." Toga sighed aloud again. "I'm just bored and he promised he'd help me make cookies today."

This. This was what would get you sent to the deepest, most foul ring of Hell imaginable. This was yet another reason your heart was blackened beyond repair. Yet another reason you deserved never to feel a shred of happiness again. And still, you looked Toga in the eyes and lied to her as if it was as easy as breathing.

"He'll be done soon, then you can bake all the cookies you want."

Because it was as easy as breathing. It was who you are, and who you'd always been. A perfect manipulator. A perfect agent. It took you no effort at all to infiltrate the League. To become one of them. Earning Dabi's trust was yet another hurdle to your success, and you manipulated your way beneath his scarred, ruined skin as if you'd always belonged there. And you almost convinced yourself of that, too. The only thing that ever held you back was that useless organ that beat steadily in your chest.

"He better," Toga muttered. "Mr. Compress went and got the ingredients for us."

Toga was still talking, mumbling to herself, but you stopped paying attention at least a couple of minutes ago. Your focus was now fixed on the villain who appeared from the stairwell. Dabi paid no attention to either of you as he glanced your way before turning to stride down another hallway, his hands dug into his pockets.

"I need to talk to him," you said to Toga, dashing off after your villain. "See you later."

Toga grumbled something incoherent about being abandoned again, but you were already halfway to Dabi and cared little about hearing the specifics. If he heard your approach, he didn't seem bothered enough to turn around.

"Wait!"

Dabi halted but didn't turn. "I'm busy, princess."

"I don't care."

Finally, your villain turned to you, the hard edges of him softening just slightly, but not enough that his fiery gaze didn't feel like it was burning you. "What is it?"

You furrowed your brows. "I don't know what crawled up your ass and died today, but I don't need a reason to come and speak to you."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "This is one of those days where you decide you're going to be difficult, isn't it?"

Your stupid, reckless heart squeezed painfully. "I can't help it, when you're broody it makes me want to taunt you."

"And what if I'm not in the mood to be taunted."

"All the more reason to do it." You grinned through the guilt-slicked hurt. "And besides, you asked for this."

Dabi's gaze burned right through you, but the slight smirk that graced his lips told you everything you needed to know. He jerked his chin at you and started walking. "Come on, then."

You followed along after him. "Where are we going?"

"I need to find—"

Both of you were thrown sideways as the floor warped and cracked beneath your feet, the roar of splintering stone and shattering glass a direct accompaniment to the ringing in your ears. Pain lanced through your side and skull as you peeled yourself from the jagged floor.

"Fuck."

Dabi was already on his feet, his gaze sweeping over you as you swiped a finger over the fresh bleeding wound at your hairline. "Princess—"

The sound of a lamenting scream echoed through the otherwise suddenly silent hallway. Twice's scream. You felt your entire body go rigid. This was it. This was the end of it all. All you had to do now was keep Dabi busy.

But the world had started crumbling around you.

Rubble fell from the ceiling, collapsing entire sections of the hallway you were currently occupying. You clambered to your feet, hissing in pain at the open wound on your head. By the time you looked back at Dabi, he was already gone.

Shit.

You stumbled after him as the clashing of heroes and villains began on the floor below you. Everything was according to plan, only you hadn't expected Cementos' quirk to hit you quite so hard, and now Dabi was missing, likely on his way to where Hawks was currently dealing with Twice. You needed to make it there. And fast.

Come on, Nyx. Finish this.

You willed your body to comply as you set off in a sprint, following the direction of Twice's scream. If Dabi— No, you didn't have time to think of what you might find there. If Hawks didn't succeed, every shitty fucking thing you'd done — every manipulation — would have been for absolutely nothing. And you couldn't survive that.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins, masking whatever dull ache of pain you felt from the blast. The sound of Twice's lamenting cries had ceased, and that either meant Hawks had succeeded, or something far, far worse.

You skidded around the last corner, your heart leaping into your throat as an explosion of cobalt blue flame blasted the door to where Hawks had taken Twice completely off its hinges.

No. Fuck. Hawks—

You didn't spare another second to think before you flung yourself through that charred, open threshold. What you found cut you deeper than a knife through the chest.

Hawks' feathers were nothing but whispers of ash on the ground where he lay. Twice's crumpled but still breathing body was an arm's length from Hawks, and Dabi—

Dabi slammed his foot to Hawks' cheek, shattering the visor he wore into a dozen jagged pieces. His mouth was moving, but you could hear nothing of what he was saying over the ringing in your ears. All those feathers. Blackened beyond recall. Burned up into nothing. Had he any left? How could he escape this? Had you failed him so completely?

Hawks' gaze found yours beneath Dabi's boot, his beautiful golden eyes pained. You knew he wanted you to run far, far away from this place. But you couldn't. This was your battle as much as his. It was about time you faced the truth.

Sparks of blue lit at the tips of Dabi's fingers. He would kill him. He would turn Hawks into nothing but ash and chips of bone if you didn't end this. You had to end this.

"Dabi!" The cry tore from your throat as you launched yourself towards him. "Stop!"

But once you start an inferno, it is almost impossible to quench.

A blast of blue fire licked across the entire room, the wall of heat slamming into you at the same time as the wave of pressure that sent you flying backward into the hard, stone wall. Pain lanced through you, but you barely cared to feel it, too concerned by the twisted scene playing out before you.

Hawks—

It was too much. All of it was too much. Why did you let yourself feel? Why did you let yourself care? It was the stupidest thing you'd ever done in your pathetic, cursed existence and you knew it. You knew it and you still chose to fall for a villain, only to fall for the hero, too. Now you only had yourself to blame for the inevitable heartbreak.

Your eyes stung from the blast of heat, but you forced them open, blinking the tears away in search of—

Hawks knelt on the floor, wings singed and featherless, one arm holding Twice. His golden eyes darted to you before turning back to Dabi. He'd lost his jacket to the flames, and part of his golden skin was charred and raw from the viciousness of the attack Dabi launched at him. Still, he watched his adversary with lethal focus.

"You could have killed your friend!" Hawks roared at Dabi.

"Isn't it your job?" Dabi shrugged, and his smile turned manic. "Saving people in an instant?"

You were clambering to your feet again, dragging yourself forward. But to what? To kill him? Or just stop him? Did you have the heart to destroy his? The knife was in your hand. All it would take was your entire soul.

"What about her?" Hawks returned, his words as cold as ice. "Is she going to get caught in your uncontrolled fire?"

Dabi's piercing blue eyes found you. He flicked his gaze to the knife in your hand, and then back to your face. What did you look like to him then? Were you singed and torn like Hawks was? Did he care? Your heart twisted. You knew what he was.
From the first day you met him, you saw that broken, warped cruelty that had consumed him. And yet, there was beauty in him and his chaos that stole a little piece of you.

But now, you had reached the end.

"Stay back, princess."

Dabi's words were a stiff command, but there was something else in that tone. Something desperate and sad.

"You don't understand, Dabi." You took another laboured step towards him. "I can't."

"I don't care." There was venom in those words, but you didn't stop moving towards him. "Just stay back."

Twice had ripped himself from Hawks' grasp, stumbling forward with a white handkerchief in his fingers while a double of him wrestled to keep Hawks in place. Your heart lurched into your throat.

"Burn him, Dabi!"

Before you could process what was happening before you, Dabi had reached out and shoved you, sending you tumbling back several feet onto the hard floor. Blue flame erupted from his hands and you threw your arms over your face to shield yourself from the wave of vicious heat that followed.

Glass shattered and the world around you burned. You couldn't see Hawks beyond the wall of cobalt flame, but you convinced yourself he would survive. Because if he didn't...

No, he has to survive.

Twice was stumbling past Dabi towards both you and the exit. Bile burned your throat as you beheld the blood seeping from one deep gouge Hawks had already left behind. Twice's eyes found yours and you saw the spark of hope that lit there. He believed you to be his friend, just like he saw Hawks as the same. And how it would tear him apart to know you were yet another lie.

"Nyx," Twice stepped towards you. "Come on. We need to leave here. Help me."

Tears fell from your eyes, burning a path down your cheeks. You shook your head, the weight of every shitty thing you'd ever done bearing down on you.

This was the price of your life. This was the creature you had to become to kill those just as bad. Betrayer. Murderer. How could you ever believe you deserved anything more? How could you have allowed yourself to want more? The knife in your hand felt heavy as if it was weighed down by every life it had stolen. Now it would take another. One just as innocent at its core as the soul that wielded it.

Twice's eyes fell to the blade in your hand, and you knew he understood. He understood that months of his life — your life — were a complete lie. He understood that you were willing to take his life if that was what was required of you. And he was scared of you. So deeply wounded and terrified it reflected completely in those innocent, teary eyes.

But you never got a chance to lift that blade.

Hawks appeared from the open doorway, his feather blades slicing in one large arc toward Twice's exposed body. But Dabi had noticed the winged hero at the same time you did, flinging his arm in the opposite direction to blast the hero back.

"Keigo Takami!"

You flung yourself into a roll, narrowly escaping the edges of Dabi's inferno as it consumed half of the room.

Hawks had dodged the wall of flame Dabi threw at him, hovering just above the path of fire with what little was left of his beautiful wings. His gaze met yours from high above, and you knew he was thinking the same as you.

How did he know Hawks' real name?

And what did that mean?

If your heart beat any faster, it would leap right out of your chest. If he could find out Hawks' identity... No. You didn't have the time to speculate. You needed to stop Dabi. Needed to get Hawks out. And you needed to move your fucking body and do something. He would hate you either way. All of them would. This was the deal. It was always the deal. You were never supposed to care.

Twice tripped through the doorway, throwing himself against the outside railing, drips of blood marking his escape. But it was futile. It was so
fucking futile it ripped you open just to witness it.

Because you saw the same monster reflected in Hawks' eyes that hid behind your own. For the first fucking time, you truly saw him. Every edge of darkness and warped sense of duty. Every ounce of selfish agenda. And it only took him slicing through Dabi's wall of cobalt flame to bury his blades into Twice's retreating back.

You forced yourself to watch it all. Every laborious movement of Twice's body before he gave up on struggling and accepted his death. Forced yourself to watch as a pool of crimson blood formed around his lifeless corpse, dripping over the edge. You might as well have killed him yourself. If Hawks had not done it first, you would have.

Dabi's rage burned hotter as his flames erupted, consuming the image of Twice's body and Hawks standing over him. He stalked towards the entryway, relaxing his inferno to mere sparks of blue at his fingers.

You had to move.

You had to do something.

But you could barely breathe.

It hurt you too much. Cut you too deeply. All that blood you spilled might finally drown you. The consequences of your choices were playing out right before your eyes and it was breaking in a way you'd never been broken before. In a way you would never recover from.

Dabi brought his foot down on Hawks' burning back, merciless and cruel as the grin that curved his lips. A roar of pain tore from Hawks' throat as Dabi ruthlessly burned what remained of his beautiful wings to nothing but stubs of charred flesh.

Stop.

Stop.

"Stop!"

There was nothing left but the truth. Brutal and hideous as it was, there was no hiding from it any longer. This was your burden. Your battle. Your villain. From the very beginning, you knew how this would end. You knew that it would be your blade that pierced his heart. And how cruel a twist of fate it was that you ended up loving the same heart you would cease.

When you finally found the strength to move, it was to throw yourself between your villain and your hero.

Chapter Text

The world around you quieted.

All you could see was him.

Bright, beautiful eyes that burned with the same heat of his flames. That cruel, twisted grin you never wanted to turn on you. The soul beneath that was tortured and broken, yet still flickered with life.

But the fire in his eyes had extinguished just as quickly as the flames he tortured Hawks with the moment you threw yourself between them.

The game had come to an end, and all you were left with now were the broken pieces of this fragile lie of a life you'd come to love.

"Stop." There were tears in your eyes as you looked up at him. "Please."

Dabi stared down at you, his expression completely devoid of any emotion. Of any feeling. Disbelief, you would assume. But no, it wasn't that. His expression darkened, his lips curling into a grin so uncaring and cruel it broke something vital in you.

And then he laughed.

This was no longer the Dabi you had come to feel for. This was the creature that lurked beneath — the villain. Manic, twisted and so very, very sad.

"I didn't want to believe it." Despite the pain laced between his words, that grin never left him. "I wasn't surprised by him but you." Those bright eyes commanded you not to look away. "Orphaned. Only known name — Nyx. Raised as a covert agent from age six—"

This was the moment your heart would break. "You knew?"

Dabi's gaze never left you, and how it burned. "—confirmed kills — 129." His grin only grew. "Was this what I was to you, princess? Were you going to kill me too?"

Hearing that number felt like a knife to the gut. Maybe in the end, this was your punishment.

"How long?" Your voice cracked. "How long?"

Dabi ignored you, wisps of blue crackling at the tips of his fingers. "Did you think you could fuck me and bury a knife in my back? And here I thought heroes were supposed to be the good guys."

There was hate in his eyes. Pure, unfiltered hate. It was then you realised how real this was. How you'd tricked yourself into believing this day would never come. How you'd been living in complete fucking denial of it.

And here it was.

The moment when your heart finally broke. When you realised all those times before you thought it would were merely cracks on its surface. But this, this was what breaking felt like. And it fucking hurt. So fucking much you thought it might kill you. In the end, you only had yourself to blame.

Behind you, Hawks' pained whisper reached out to you, but even he could not stop the agony tearing you apart. "Dove."

Dabi's gaze flicked to Hawks' crumpled form behind you, fury another spark of fuel to the hate-filled fire burning in the pits of his eyes now. "I guess I'm not the only one you fucked."

"I didn't— It's not..." The words died in your throat. "Dabi please."

"I owe you nothing." Venom laced his words. "You are nothing. If you want to stand there, be my guest. I'll—"

"Burn me?" You were standing now, tears running freely down your cheeks. "You're as bad a liar as I am."

Before you could blink, his hand reached out and gripped you by the throat, his fingers pressing into the soft skin of your neck. But you didn't so much as flinch, not even at the dangerous heat rising in his touch.

"How long?" The plea in your words cut you open. "Last night?"

Dabi didn't answer, but you saw the truth there. It broke your fragile little heart all over again.

"You knew," you breathed, choking on the words as if they were shards of glass. "You knew and you still..." You trailed off, unable to finish.

"Kissed you?" His gaze was hard. Cruel. "I was just lying to you the same way you've lied to me, princess."

"It wasn't—"

But what could you say? Because it was the truth. You lied with every breath you took in his presence and you even lied to yourself when you pretended your feelings for him wouldn't destroy you both.

"Are you going to burn me too, Dabi?"

Dabi's grin turned manic, but he let go. "Not yet."

"Is that the face of someone who's just lost a friend?" Hawks' voice filled the void left behind. He was struggling and failing to rise, his back nothing but singed and raw flesh. You couldn't look at it. You could barely look at him. Not when your whole truth was finally on display.

"I never cared about the League, but I needed Twice to see my dream for this world come to fruition," Dabi spat. "And you killed him. So of course I'm upset, but I can't cry about it if I've burned up my tear glands, can I?"

Dabi stepped forward, blue flame flickering at the tips of his fingers. You planted yourself firmly between Hawks and him, one knife pointed at the center of his chest. "I won't let you."

The cruel twist of his mouth would haunt you for eternity. "Do you think that matters to me anymore? Do you think that I care if you live or die?"

You flinched as if his words were a physical blow. "Don't make me kill you."

The callous laugh that followed was almost enough to make you believe he'd never cared for you at all. "Don't pretend you haven't been waiting for this moment." Dabi took a step closer, but you didn't dare retreat an inch. "Did you enjoy your game, Nyx?" This close, you could see every ounce of hurt behind that manic expression. The tip of your knife bit into the fabric of his shirt, right over his wicked heart. "Did you want to carve it out and keep it as a trophy?"

You didn't know it was possible to inflict so much pain on another without drawing a single drop of blood. It went against everything you'd ever known. And yet you finally understood what it meant to break. Not just your heart, but your entire soul.

You couldn't stop the tears from flowing, nor could speak more than a whisper. "This was never supposed to happen."

"But it did." Dabi's gaze held you in place, forced you to watch his destruction at your hands. "And now look where we are, princess. So kill me, or else your hero will have to watch me turn you to ash before I finish him off, too."

"Don't fucking touch her." Hawks was halfway to his feet, his lethal gaze focused on Dabi. "I'll kill you."

But it didn't matter how much cold intent was behind those words. You knew if this fight continued, Hawks would die.

Whatever Dabi saw on Hawks' face at that moment snapped the last tether restraining his fury. He shoved you, hard enough that you lost your balance and fell to the ground, but not enough to stop you from reacting. You caught yourself, springing off the ground to kick your leg at the arm Dabi had flung in Hawks' direction, sparks of blue lighting at the tips of his fingers.

But you missed.

Dabi's foot connected with Hawks' chin first, the force of the kick bending his neck back to the point of breaking. You screamed as Hawks fell back to the ground, Dabi's flames continuing to destroy what remained of his beautiful, crimson wings.

You launched yourself at Dabi, smashing both of you into the railing. It was enough to send him off balance. Enough to stop him from releasing his flames anywhere near Hawks. With the sound of your own heartbeat and the lethal focus you kept on Dabi, you almost didn't notice the young hero that descended to where Hawks lay.

Weeks before, you'd spied that young hero while watching over Hawks. A vicious spark of hope lit in your chest. This was his protégé.

"Get him out of here," you called over your shoulder, sparing only a glance at the young man before returning your attention to Dabi. "Now."

"No," Hawks' rasping voice cut through you. "Don't leave her here."

Dabi's gaze hardened at the sight before him. "Why risk your life for him? He's a cold-blooded murderer. He killed Twice when all he was trying to do was protect his friends."

"Go," you spat through gritted teeth. "Now."

The inferno beneath Dabi's skin was a force of nature. He wrapped himself around you in your moment of distraction, throwing his arm over your shoulder to blast another wave of blue fire in Hawks' direction. You broke from his hold immediately, shoving him back while hooking your foot behind his. It was enough to send him stumbling down. Enough that you could spare them both the time to escape.

But the young hero had slipped in his escape from Dabi's flames and you watched as both of them tumbled over the edge, slamming into the hard concrete below. Your heart leapt into your throat. The fall had knocked the number-two hero unconscious, but his chest still rose and fell. Hawks' protégé wrapped his arms around him as he prepared to take flight.

"Protect him," you said softly, despite knowing they wouldn't hear you. "Please."

Dabi was on his feet again, rushing towards the edge to send a final blast of flames at the retreating heroes. You prepared to take him down, only a sudden blast of ice shook the floor beneath your feet, sending you tumbling sideways. Geten's quirk. You caught yourself, flinging your gaze to the sky in time to see Hawks disappearing with his student.

Dabi's footsteps echoed as they closed the space between you. "Guess it's just me and you, princess."

You rose from the ground, a knife in each hand, battered and bruised. "I never wanted it to come to this."

The heat in his stare seared your skin. "Then what did you want?"

"I wanted to infiltrate the League and kill whoever was required of me. I wanted to prove myself to be a hero worthy of knowing, and not one that just did the Commission's dirty work." Guilt swirled within you. "It was supposed to be simple. You were just another mark. All of you were. I wasn't supposed to care."

His eyes were a void of endless nothing. "Do you think that sob story is going to sway me?"

"No," your gaze hardened. "But I needed to say it. If just so..." You trailed off.

"What, princess?"

That hole in your chest where your heart used to be was bleeding no longer. Now it was filled with every rotten, despicable part of you. Every warped piece you tried to hide. You were not good. You were never good. It was time to stop pretending you were.

"So I can kill you."

Dabi's answering grin was as twisted as you were.

"I was so fucking stupid," you exclaimed, laughing humourlessly. "What was I thinking? How could I let myself fall for you? If it's any consolation, everything I said last night was true. Too late now though, isn't it?"

He didn't reply, but his attention remained solely on you.

"Why did you kiss me last night?" Somewhere deep within, there was a twinge of pain, but it was smothered before you cared to feel it. "Did you want to pretend for just one more night? Just like I did?"

Dabi's gaze grew colder. "Some poison tastes sweet. Too bad it still kills in the end."

The smirk that curved your lips came from the depths of your blackened soul. "If you knew I was a poison all along, would you still have me?"

The corner of his mouth lifted. "From the first moment I met you, I knew you were just as twisted as I am. Maybe it just didn't matter to me what you were hiding. Never thought it would be this, though."

Despite everything. Despite your shattered heart and broken soul, there was still light in you. If just for one more fleeting moment.

"Fight with me." You squeezed the hilt of your blades. "For real this time."

And it was just one more moment. There was nothing left in you. If you clung to the scraps of your tattered heart, it would only serve to cripple you beneath the weight of all that guilt and pain. It was easier not to feel at all.

When you swiped your blade in an arc toward Dabi's neck, you truly felt nothing at all. Nothing but lethal, cold focus. This was always how it was meant to end. It was you who would drive your knife through his heart. You that would destroy what you craved for so long.

Flame erupted from Dabi's palm as he dodged your attack, retreating a few steps. You ducked out of the way, throwing yourself back inside the room where Hawks had taken on both Dabi and Twice only mere minutes ago. You put some distance between Dabi and you, if only so you could stay out of the range of his fire.

"If you can't get close enough to me, you can't kill me." His footsteps echoed through you. "Isn't that right, princess?"

It was true your quirk was a poor match for his. Merely activating his fire was enough to prevent you from using any shadows to gain an advantage over him.

You kept low, stalking side to side as you decided when best to launch yourself. When you did, you covered half the distance between you in five long strides. His fire, however, was faster. You rolled to the side, barely missing the edges of his inferno as you retreated back once more.

I need to get closer.

And to do that, you would use any possible tactic available to you. You needed to end this. Even if that meant playing on the fraying tether that bound you to him.

You attacked again, rushing him head-on. As expected, he released a wave of cobalt fire. On-demand, a sharp cry of pain left your lips, and the flames dissipated almost immediately. Only his fire hadn't so much as brushed your skin, and you were upon him, knife to his throat before another moment could pass.

Dabi laughed coldly, your blade drawing a single drop of blood where it nicked the soft skin of his throat. "And you're just as cruel as I am, too."

"I have to do this."

Those piercing blue eyes found yours, and you faltered. If only for a moment, you let yourself remember what it felt like to look into them when they held no edge of hurt or hatred.

"Then what are you waiting for, princess? "Dabi's mouth curved into a smile. "Kill me."

You pressed the blade deeper into his skin, another drop of blood sliding down the sharp edge to drip to the floor.

"It was real."

One swipe. That's all it would take. One cut and you'd be freed from the weight of your heart. Freed from him.

"All of it was real."

Your knuckles whitened around the hilt of your knife but you couldn't move it. You couldn't kill him. Your heart might have shattered beyond repair, but it hadn't abandoned you yet.

The knife fell from your grasp, clattering to the floor.

All that guilt. All that pain. You felt every brutal bit of it. You had nothing left. Nothing. Not Dabi. Not Hawks. Not the League. Nothing but the innumerable pieces of your broken heart — pieces that were too small and cracked to ever fit back together.

Maybe you couldn't rid yourself of your darkness, but you couldn't forsake your light, either.

You fell to your knees, buried beneath the weight of every horrible thing you'd done. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your bones, and you couldn't find it within you to care what happened to you anymore. This was what you deserved, after all.

Dabi descended to your level, his fingers tilting your chin so you were forced to meet his beautiful blue eyes. "Couldn't do it, could you?" His lips curved into a cruel, sad smile. "Don't give up on me, princess. It isn't over just yet."

Chapter Text

To say things had gone dreadfully would be an understatement.

After everything you'd been through, it was almost comical to have discovered you possessed a heart in the company of villains. And worse still, for whatever inane reason you'd decided to follow it. Now, it was a part of you that you wished you could be rid of. A part that was keeping you from completing your goal — your mission.

How could you return to your pitiful former existence? Did you want to? But then again, it didn't really matter. You'd stopped caring what was coming. Failing to kill Dabi might have been the moment you pissed your life away for good. Either the League would kill you, or if by some miracle you escaped their hold with your life, what then? What was left for you?

Some selfish part of your mind flitted to Hawks, but you banished him before your heart dared to hope. He wouldn't want you. Not now that he knew you'd slept your way into his enemy's heart and your own would bear the scars of it for a lifetime to come.

And Dabi. How he hated you now. Every time those beautiful blue eyes swept over you, you felt it. Like a searing brand on your skin. How long had he hated you? How many times had he looked at you that way and you never noticed?

The grip he held your wrist with was just shy of bruising. You'd left your knives behind where you failed to end him, and whatever happened to you now was entirely up to him. You just didn't care.

"Finally out of things to say, are we, princess?"

There was a smirk on his lips, cruel and taunting. You thought of how part of you had adored the wickedness of within him. How it drew you in. Now, it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

"Just kill me and get it over with."

A mere sidelong glance from him was enough to cut you to your core. "What makes you think I want to kill you?"

You looked away, cowed. "Then what do you want?"

"You might not have dealt the blow, but you're just as responsible for Twice's death as he is." His lips twisted into a hauntingly beautiful grin. "I won't spare you from that."

You laughed through the guilt, tears blurring your vision. "So, you're punishing me? Believe me, I can do a better job myself."

Dabi's gaze swept over you again. "I want you to be there when I destroy them." He tugged your wrist harder as you walked. "You wanted all of my secrets, didn't you? Well, you can have your fill."

Whatever question or retort had formed on your lips died the moment you rounded a corner to find Compress standing at a stone railing, staring down at the ongoing battle in the foyer below. He was wearing his mask. Beneath it, you wondered what expression he wore, and how it would change when he knew the truth.

"Dabi," Compress greeted, his eyes sliding to where the villain was gripping your wrist, and then to the blank, broken look you so clearly wore. "What's going on? Twice—"

But you'd tuned the rest of it out. Because right below, despite that she was wearing the form of another, you saw the feline grace in Toga's movements. Not only that, but you saw the vicious sting of vengeance and despair as she clawed and sliced her way through countless heroes. How she raged. Like a reaper gave flesh. And how it was all your fault.

Dabi's words brushed against your ear and you startled, jerking away from him. "I would say all that blood is on your hands, but they've been stained for a long time. Haven't they, princess?"

You glared at him, lip curled. "That's rich coming from someone who's left a trail of crispy corpses in his wake."

The corners of his mouth lifted. "Still got enough fire in you to fight with me? Good."

You refused to look him in the eye. To give him the satisfaction of seeing how thoroughly you were breaking. Toga's despair was another punishment, and one you certainly deserved. But his hurt was the consequence you refused to face. No matter how well he hid it behind that unhinged mania, you knew it was there. You'd wounded him. Deeply.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed how Compress was watching you, though he hadn't yet said a word. If he was about to, it was suddenly interrupted by the ground quaking beneath your feet, and the rising of a monster that could only be named Gigantomachia. You were all tossed onto his back, with Dabi pausing to grab a reluctant Skeptic. Even Toga appeared, naked. A flustered Compress handed her clothes.

"Shigaraki must be awake," Dabi deduced, and you fought the urge to curse.

All this only to fucking lose.

But it wasn't quite over yet.

Tears lined Toga's eyes. She was looking at you and that hole in your chest where your heart used to be was bleeding again.

"Jin..." she started but lost herself. "He's..."

"She knows," Dabi interjected, grinning cruelly. "In fact, why don't you tell her?"

If a mere look was enough to kill someone, he would have turned to a pile of fleshy pulp on the giant's back. "Dabi..."

Those fiery eyes were on you. "Can't do it, princess?" He turned to Toga. "Looks like Nyx has been a spy for the heroes all along, right along with Hawks. I never asked, but did you plan to kill Twice or was that improvised?"

You lunged for him, but someone grabbed you from behind, restraining you. Spinner, you'd come to realise. "Fuck you, Dabi."

"You... killed him?" Toga's big eyes looked upon you in complete disbelief. Every stage of grief passed over her pretty face and the pain you found there was heartbreaking. "You... lied? All this time? And you killed him?"

"I can't give her all the credit," Dabi said, "it was Hawks who murdered him."

"But it might as well have been me." You forced yourself to look at her as the poisoned words left your lips. "I would have killed him if Hawks had failed."

The voice that left her was so small. "Why..?"

Tears fell over your cheeks. "Because I am worse than all of you."

Silence descended as Toga stared at you. You wanted to tell her that you cherished her friendship. That you'd never had anyone in your life who was like a little sister to you. How you accepted every bit of her. But you couldn't. It didn't matter what you said anymore.

A wounded cry left her lips as she lunged for you, knives in hand. It would be easy to close your eyes and accept your end, but you knew Dabi had other plans for you. When he grabbed Toga before she could pierce your skin, you weren't surprised. "She doesn't die yet."

A humourless laugh escaped you. "Just end this."

"And miss what I've planned?" He crouched down before you. "I did all this for you."

It was impossible to keep your composure when he was this close. When the torturous scent of him enveloped you, though one word and that once comforting thing would suffocate you. His dark hair shadowed his forehead, and his gaze possessed yours. It struck you how deeply you'd come to care for him, and how foolish that was. Yet, if you could play your game all over again, would you choose not to feel for him?

"How long did you know?"

The world around you was moving so fast as Gigantomachia barrelled through lines of heroes trying to slow him, and yet, your words were soft. So soft, you weren't sure he could hear you.

For a brief, beautiful moment, the grin slipped from his lips. "It doesn't matter now, does it?"

"It does to me."

The fire in his eyes burnt out. "I suspected for a lot longer than I knew, but for some reason, I took my time in finding out."

It would be easier if he stabbed you in the heart, the pain was the same. "I was such a fool to fall for you, but I couldn't help it."

"You know," Dabi started, that twisted grin returning. This time, it was hollow. "I thought you were the most perfect thing I'd ever had." He reached for you, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of it cut you open. "You saw all of me and you didn't run away." He drew his hand back. "Somehow, I knew we would destroy each other. I wasn't all that surprised when I realised the reason you didn't run was because you couldn't."

At what point the tears began flowing, you didn't know. You would take any form of torture over this. And yet, part of you begged for every cutting word because you believed you truly deserved it.

"In the end, I stayed because I wanted to." It took more energy than you had to speak. "I stayed because I care about you."

Dabi's gaze darkened. "Such a pretty manipulator. Your lies are even sweeter than your truths."

You couldn't bear any more. Not one bit. "It's not a lie and you know it."

"It doesn't matter to me if it is or not," Dabi smirked. "When I look at you, I feel nothing."

You jerked your gaze away from him, squeezing it shut. "Liar."

Dabi gripped your chin, forcing you back. "Do you know why that is, princess?"

You opened your glassy eyes, the fire in you almost a match for his. Almost. "Stop."

The smirk on his lips only grew and those beautiful piercing eyes burned straight through you, right down to your rotten core.

"Because I hate you."

The spark of futile resistance within you died the moment those words left his lips. In fact, everything bright and good within you shriveled up and wasted away. There was pain. God, there was so much of it. But it was as if your soul had detached from your body. You could feel it, everywhere, like the weight of the entire world pressing in on you. But at the same time, you felt nothing. Nothing but cold, brutal emptiness.

Dabi retracted his grip on your chin, and your head sagged to your chest. All around you, the world was moving so, so fast. The villains were fighting to throw off the heroes blocking their path and yet you could hear nothing but the blood rushing through your skull and the bitter sound of your own broken heart.

Is my bruised heart the same colour as your scars now, Dabi?

You wanted to take it all back. Every skip of your heartbeat. Every cherry blush and stolen smile. You wished you'd never learned how to feel if this was the cost of it. You wanted your battered heart to turn to stone, if only so that pain would cease.

But it wouldn't.

And whenever you closed your eyes you were faced with every mistake you made along the way.

When had you lost? At what moment did you cross beyond a threshold you could never turn back from? Was it when you'd finally allowed yourself to acknowledge that you felt something for him? When you'd dragged him into that shower and he'd kissed you like you were the only thing holding him together?

Was it even earlier? When he told you that you were his and claimed every inch of your traitorous body? When he'd asked you to stay and you did?

You could replay every interaction. You could torture yourself with the memories of it all, but it would amount to nothing. The truth of it was that you lost the moment you sat opposite him in that seedy bar and he'd called you princess for the first time.

Spinner had released you at some point, but you couldn't find the strength within you to move. The world blurred as tears continued to slide down your cheeks. They wouldn't stop, despite that you were empty inside. If anything, it was rather inconvenient.

Bursts of blue flame dragged your attention to where Dabi was standing on the edge of Gigantomachia's back. The giant had stopped, and a fight was playing out, though you had no care who was continuing the battle that you had failed to finish. Toga was fighting, too. They all were.

When the giant began to move again, you knew the heroes had lost.

Toga was staring at you, her eyes filled with that same disdain reflected in Dabi's as he told you he hated you. She spoke softly to Compress, who looked mildly concerned before she leaped off Gigantomachia's back and disappeared.

When you closed your eyes to blink, you weren't sure how long they remained closed before you found the strength to open them again. When you did, you found Dabi kneeling before you.

He didn't reach for you, and you were glad of it. Any touch of his skin against yours would burn you more thoroughly than his flames ever could.

"Are you ready, princess?"

It was a question he didn't care for you to answer, and you didn't bother opening your mouth to try. The cruel twist of his lips was proof enough that whatever was coming next was the final blow to your already shattered heart. If this was where you would meet your end, so be it.

When you met his eyes, you saw every ounce of hurt and loathing. Every terrible intention he had to break you as completely as you'd broken him. And yet, you couldn't find it within your heart to hate him. Not for one single second.

A roar tore from Gigantomachia as he lunged for something. The sudden movement of it threw you to the side, but you found yourself steadied by the very arms of the villain who hated you before you could fall to your death.

How cruel it was that he would save you only to destroy you on his own terms.

Spinner climbed onto the giant's shoulder. "Shigaraki!"

His return spelled... well, royally fucked would be an understatement.

Your attention slid from Spinner to Dabi, whose arms slid from around you as he stood up. He reached into the pocket of his coat, pulling out a bottle of something you couldn't recognise. He shook it as he walked to the edge of Gigantomachia's back.

"There you are," Dabi said, his voice light as he waved to whoever stood below. "Everyone looks so tiny from up here."

Chapter Text

Touya Todoroki.

It took until he dumped that bottle of liquid over his head for it to finally click. Black faded to white and you were left staring at the back of someone you barely knew.

Touya.

Son of Endeavor, the number one hero.

The signs were there all along, but you were missing the exact pieces that fit them together. Who was it you'd run into that night before seeing Hawks? Natsuo? He was so familiar to you and now you understood why. The charred photo of a young version of Dabi you'd plucked from inside his desk that day, was that his father he stood beside? Your mind was reeling from the weight of it.

Even Compress was taken aback. "Dabi! You never told us your story."

You kept everyone in the dark, didn't you?

Skeptic, whom Dabi had forced along, was tapping furiously at the screen of his computer to your left.

"What is this?" you hissed at Skeptic, who shrunk into himself as you drew closer. "Is this what you've been planning in your fucking room all those nights?"

If only you'd tried harder to uncover the truth. Even then, it probably would have amounted to nothing. You knelt next to Skeptic, your eyes glued to the screen and whatever broadcast he was playing.

The vice around your heart squeezed tighter as you beheld the scene playing out before you. He'd gathered everything—even a paternity test—to prove his point. Everything was meticulously planned, right down to the fact he chose not to wear a shirt, leaving his brutal scars on display for the entire world.

But it was the truth of it—of him—that truly shattered you.

Quirk marriage. Endeavor's desire for children. Dabi's failing. His masterpiece in Shoto. The physical and mental abuse.

Fresh tears lined your eyes as you came to finally understand. After all this time, you knew who Dabi was. His paranoia, his apathy, his fear of failure. Finally, it all made sense to you. But when an image Hawks flashed across that screen, your mind emptied of any thoughts at all.

There before you, in perfect clarity, was the moment when Hawks cut down Twice.

"It was rushed work," Skeptic said to Dabi. You hadn't even realised Dabi was looking at him—at you. "But my editing was perfect. Worship me."

"Thanks a lot." Dabi's words were for Skeptic, but his attention was yours. "It was a great shot. I thought I should put it to good use." This time, he spoke to you. "What did you think, princess?" You opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you. Undeterred, Dabi went on. "You'll want to listen to this next bit."

He stepped back up to the edge of Gigantomachia's back, staring down at his family from high above.

"This was supposed to be my gift to you, Endeavor, but I guess it's for both of you now." Dabi's eyes slid to yours before returning to his father, that manic grin surfacing once again. "I did a background check on your little spy, Hawks." He spat the name with vitriol. "To earn our trust, he would even go as far as to kill a fellow hero. His victim was Best Jeanist, who was recovering from his injuries. I guess you could say violence was a part of his life." Those fiery blue eyes were on you now. "I wasn't surprised to learn his father was a serial killer. A villain—arrested by Endeavor himself. That's why he kept his identity and name a secret. It's funny how people like that are drawn to one another."

Another perfectly placed strike to your feeble heart.

"He covered everything up with that righteous persona," Dabi continued. "Heroes. Only ever protecting themselves. Now the entire world will see the truth."

"This is what you were hiding from me?" Finally, you found the strength to speak. "This is why you told me to wait?"

From deep within you, that spark of rage returned.

"I did this for you, princess." Maybe in some warped way, he believed that to be true. "This was the only thing holding me back from—"

"From what?" You stood up, taking a step closer to him. "From feeling? That's not true and you know it. You are a coward. This wasn't for me, this was all for you. This was your fucking vengeance."

His jaw ticked as he watched your approach.

"Maybe you're right about the world, or maybe you're wrong. But I don't believe you give a shit about any of it." You were close to him now, just a couple of steps away. "You're still a scared little boy who believes all he's capable of is pain and hurt. But that's not true. You cared for me. So much it fucking terrified you and it still wasn't enough." Your voice cracked as tears began to fall down your cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me? You couldn't let me in, could you? You would never let me in."

The hurt was there for you to see. Every broken shard of his vicious heart was yours. "Just like you couldn't let me in."

No matter how much you wished to mend it, you couldn't. "I never lied about what I felt for you."

"I don't believe you."

A bitter laugh escaped you. "No, you don't want to believe me. It's easier to hide, isn't it?" When he didn't reply, you continued. "Just stop this, Dabi. Please."

His beautiful blue eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of that broken child beneath. "Don't you get it? I have nothing. He gets to be a hero when he did this to me. I will take everything from him. I have to."

"You had me."

For a brief, beautiful moment.

Dabi's gaze never wavered from yours. Within it, you saw the villain you fell for. The one who carried you to safety more times than once. The one who held you like you were made of glass. The one who would have burned the world for you.

But, in the end, you were left wondering if he ever truly existed.

"You are my worst mistake, and my greatest regret."

The world tilted as his words landed their final blow. The tears stopped flowing. Even the pain ceased. Finally, you thought. Finally, I am free. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe you needed your heart to break in order to realise it was the weakness they'd told you it was all along. Maybe now you could finish what you started.

"I guess we did destroy each other in the end, Touya."

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, but any god had stopped listening to you a long time ago.

You lunged at him, intent on... No, you weren't entirely sure what you wanted anymore. Did you want to hold a knife to his throat and make him admit every vicious word he uttered was a lie? Or did you want to spear that knife through his heart and watch as he took his final breath? Not that you had either of your blades, or any weapons at all save for a tiny dagger in your boot. Perhaps your bare hands would suffice.

But a pair of arms wrapped around you, dragging you down to the stoney skin of Gigantomachia's back.

"Yours was a performance I'll not forget, Nyx." Compress pinned you down, his knee pressed into the small of your back. "But the curtains have drawn, my dear."

"They have." Wherever the energy came from, you didn't know, but you had maneuvered out of Compress' hold within a second. After all, he was no match for you. "And I'm no longer the League's Nyx. You know, for a moment, I forgot that I was acting."

"A shame, really." The magician showed you the back of his palm and between his fingers sat two marbles. It was clear he intended at least one for you. "You were an excellent villain."

You were ready to take him down, but before he could attempt to throw a single marble, he was wrapped up in thick... rope? All of the League were, including you. The sudden press of the fibers around your body knocked the air from your lungs, and you craned your neck to the sky in time to see Best Jeanist soaring down like a strange, jean-clad bird. Even Gigantomachia was wrapped up in it, and his fall left your brain feeling as if it had been bounced around the inside of your skull.

Far to your left, Dabi was restrained within the same fibers. His gaze met yours for just a moment before he began to burn his way out. High above, the youngest Todoroki began his attack. You watched them clash, blue flame against bright orange as Gigantomachia's roar ripped through the world. The fibers trapping you slackened, though the giant remained subdued.

End this.

"That's right, Shoto." Dabi's warped laughter carried to you. "I don't feel a thing anymore!"

Somewhere deep within, you felt something stir at those words, but you blocked it out before it could weaken you. Right before you was your chance at redemption. All you had to do was take it. You reached down, plucking a knife from your boot. It was the only one you had. Small and sharp. Barely the size of your finger. It would be enough, though. It had to be.

The lines of rope that remained became the means for you to reach Dabi. You climbed from one to the next, throwing your battered body through the air until you were within one leap of him. Still, he was covered in his flame. You'd burn in it if you dared to reach for him. Still, you jumped anyway.

Bright blue eyes found you.

Dabi's fire vanished as you threw yourself at him. His left hand grasped your wrist, twisting the knife away from him while his other arm wrapped around your waist. Without his fire, you were both in a free fall to the ruined earth beneath you. Maybe you hadn't thought it through. Or maybe you intended to destroy yourself right along with him.

But you never hit the ground.

Dabi let go of your wrist to grab a line of Best Jeanist's rope. His right hand caught yours before you could tumble to your inevitable death.

The words that left you were cracked and broken. "Even though you hate me, you can't let me die."

His grip on your hand was slipping. "Not like this, princess."

Your heart was bleeding again. "If you let me live, I will find you again. I will kill you."

"I know."

God, he was your punishment for every terrible thing you'd ever done. The perfect, most brutal kind of torment. The kind that, no matter how deeply it hurt, you still returned for more over and over again. And you always would, even if all it gained you was another scar.

But his grip on you was already slipping. When Gigantomachia tore from his binds, every rope snapped, including the one Dabi clutched in his scarred hand.

The world slowed as his fingers slipped from yours.

You fell.

And the act of falling was different when you didn't have wings to catch you.

You hit the rubble beneath you, half of your weight cushioned by a pair of arms that were almost too late to reach you. Pain lanced through your skull and the warmth of fresh blood trickled down your temple. It took you more than a moment to open your eyes.

Dabi.

For a moment, you thought it was him. One of his eyes was the same beautiful blue as Dabi's, but the scar around it was different. His mouth was moving, but you couldn't hear a thing.

You needed to stand up. You needed to...

Fuck.

Darkness crept along the edges of your vision. No matter how hard you willed your body to move, it wouldn't comply.

But it wasn't over.

It couldn't be.

You weren't ready for it to be over.

But it was. All those months. All those feelings. It was always inevitable, despite how you pretended it wasn't. But you'd already faced the worst of your betrayals, so why were you so scared?

Maybe now that your world had crumbled to dust around you, the only person you had left to face was yourself.

Chapter Text

Dabi was not a good person. In fact, he was quite the opposite.

He enjoyed inflicting pain, not receiving it. There was very little about him that screamed masochistic. His scars, though self-inflicted, were an occupational hazard. And yet, he couldn't stop himself from seeking you out. Every time, it left him with a very particular kind of ache in his chest that no amount of arson could fix. It pissed him off. A lot.

And then there were those doe eyes of yours that extinguished any flicker of rage within him as if it was as easy as blowing out a candle. He wanted to hurt you. He wanted to hate you. Sometimes, he thought he could. But all you had to do was look at him and suddenly he'd forget for just a moment every shitty thing he felt. It was fucking annoying.

He shouldn't be surprised you betrayed him. After all, you were far too perfect and he was far too fucking selfish. Since that first day, he knew you were different. It was in the way you moved—like you owned the very ground you walked upon. He wouldn't be entirely surprised if seas parted at your word or rain ceased because it made you frown. That particular thought amused him. You were a princess, after all.

You were too good at what you did. It was almost hard to hate you for it. Almost. Every saccharine smile and pout of your perfect lips was a strike he never saw coming. If only he'd known that not all of your weapons came with a pointed edge. Though it probably wouldn't have mattered, regardless. You were his perfect poison. Addictive and deadly.

You were wedged in his mind—an affliction that felt like obsession. For too long, he wanted you. To possess you. To ruin you. Maybe it was fate that he was the one ruined by you.

Dabi sought out that rooftop as a means to escape you. Though in the darkness, he found you everywhere. You belonged to it, just like he did.

He knew you were coming before you breathed a word. Maybe you didn't realise, but the shadows always seemed to bend and warp as if reaching out to touch you. It was the only warning he ever got. It still wasn't enough. "Princess."

Dabi only half-turned to face you. This time, he wanted to hate.

"I found you."

Your voice was as soft as a whisper, edged in something he chose not to acknowledge. For a moment, he thought you'd finally come to kill him. If he looked at you, would he find a knife in your hand? Would you offer him another pretty smile as you drove it between his ribs? Part of him craved to know. "What will you do now, then?"

He could hear the confusion in your tone. "Sit with you? Unless whatever brooding moment you're having is more important?"

You were close now. Too close. He loathed the way you toyed with him. He loathed your teasing comments and that innocent fucking look in your eye. And he loathed it even more when he felt his mouth curve into a smirk. Still, he gestured for you to take the spot next to him. "Be my guest."

You sat down, legs dangling over the ledge. "How long have you been up here?"

Ruin her.

Protect her.

Use her.

Protect her.

Destroy her.

Protect her.

Her.

Her.

Her .

Dabi only shrugged. "A while."

"Very informative."

Your frustration with him was evident in the way you pursed your lips. He loved it. He hated it.

Dabi stole a glance at you, his brow quirked upward. "Why are you here, princess?"

It would be easier for him to hate you if every thought in his head wasn't screaming at him to touch you. Taste you. Claim you. Keep you for later. It drove him insane. It didn't help that he knew exactly what you looked like pressed beneath him. How your skin flushed pink when his fingers brushed against the right spot or how you tasted like fucking honey. He knew it could kill him, but he also could not think of a better way to go.

"Do you remember that cabin in the mountains? Back when Shigaraki was trying to earn Gigantomachia?" He couldn't see your face, but there was a waver in your voice that suggested sadness. He didn't understand it. "I miss it. Everything is so... complicated now. I wish we could go back and stay there, if not just for a little while longer."

He didn't respond, but he listened.

"Everything is changing, I guess I'm a little nostalgic." You paused, drawing in a breath. "I never told you this before, but I never... cared for anyone before I joined the League. I just... killed who I was paid to kill and that was it. I was—am—a monster. But what I'm trying to say is... you made my stupid heart start beating again."

There it was again—that fucking ache. He needed to burn something. He needed to burn you. Why were you telling him this now? Could you not see you'd already manipulated your way under his ruined skin? Why lie again? Why twist your knife even deeper? Why did he still want to have you?

"Anyway..." you continued, filling the void his silence left. "I'll leave you alone now."

You moved to stand.

Dabi caught your wrist and tugged you back down.

He didn't mean to, but he was too fucking selfish to let you walk away. If it ended up being the last time you looked at him like he meant something to you, lies or no, he would have it. He would steal every lying smirk and dishonest smile. He would take and take and take even if it turned to ash in his hands.

He wanted to keep lying to you, and he wanted to pretend that he didn't know you were lying to him, too.

"Telling the truth now, are we, princess? And I didn't even need to coax it from you."

You exhaled a laugh, but it was bitter instead of sweet. "That truth is one I offer freely."

Dabi's fingers still held your wrist. "And what about my truth, princess?"

You were looking at him now, half-shrouded in darkness, smiling at him—and he hated you for it. "Willing to tell me something truthful? Maybe if nothing else, I managed to make your heart beat again, too."

"I never said anything about telling."

Touch her.

Kill her.

Touch her.

K-

Your brows furrowed. "Then what—"

Dabi leaned in and stole your words with a kiss. He wanted to punish you with it. He wanted to crush you to him and ruin you. He wanted to brand his name onto your soft, perfect skin. But instead, he brought his hand to your jaw, tracing the line, tilting your head back so he could take and take and take yet again. His desperation to hurt you softened into tenderness and he fucking hated it. He hated it so much he couldn't stop.

"Dabi."

His name tumbled from you as he pulled away. He despised how your lips glistened with the ghost of him and how it made him want to kiss you again. He loathed how beautiful you were in the darkness, most of all.

"We can't go back, princess." He could see you so clearly now, despite the dark. You were poison, and it only made him crave you more. "And we can't change who we are. There's no place in a world like this for us all."

Dabi knew he was right, but he fucking wanted to be wrong.

Chapter Text

Reality returned to you bit by bit.

First, it was the incessant beeping of some monitor and the muffled chatter of many voices you didn't recognise, but they sounded far away. Then, it was the smell of disinfectant accompanied by something floral and sweet. Once your nerves awoke, the aches of your battered body followed, and with them, the memories of all that had transpired.

The information flooded you all at once. Every cutting shard of guilt and sharp edge of regret. The wounds on your heart were still bleeding, though the ones on your body were beginning to heal. You wanted to close your eyes again—your dreams were far kinder.

But you opened them instead.

The bright light looming overhead seared your eyes like you were staring into the sun, but once you blinked, you began to focus. White walls. White ceiling. A hospital, then. It would explain the beeping. Despite everything, you were very much alive—apparently. And there was one thought occupying your head above all others, though you were terrified to know the truth of it. One beautiful, golden thought that might very well destroy you further, as if that was possible.

There were flowers by your bedside.

They weren't of just one type, but from many. All different colours and shapes, and all equally pretty. You found yourself reaching for them but stopped short when you heard movement.

"You're... awake."

It was the boy from before, seated in a chair by the window, opposite your bed. The one with the scar. The one who'd saved you. But above all, this was Dabi's youngest brother. Somewhere within the remnants of your heart, that realisation burned you, though you were beginning to fall into numbness again. It was easier, at least.

"Shoto, isn't it?" The gravelly sound of your own voice startled you. "How long—"

"Almost two days."

Panic flared within you and your gaze was drawn back to the flowers by your bedside. Among the bouquet was a single red rose. From it, a single petal had fallen. What had happened in those two days? What happened after you lost consciousness? You were afraid to think of his name. So afraid of what your failure—

"Hawks brought you those."

Your gaze snapped back to the boy. "Hawks is..."

Two eyes—one of blue and one of grey—watched you with slight curiosity. "Alive."

Something within you relaxed, though the rest of you was still wound so tight. You reached for the fallen petal, brushing it between your thumb and index finger. It was soft and silky, but nothing like his—

"Wings." You breathed the word like it cut you—and it had. "It's... the same colour as his wings."

Shoto did not reply to that but continued to watch you. He was beautiful in the way that Dabi was, but without that twist of darkness that belonged solely to his older brother. Now that you knew the truth, it was hard to mistake the resemblance.

It was you who filled the silence. "You... saved me." A pause. "Thank you."

Shoto only nodded. "You know my brother."

Know seemed like a stretch of the truth now. Even to say you knew him felt... wrong. Did you ever really know Dabi? Or had you gotten so lost in your game of play pretend that you'd convinced even yourself of something more? Was there truly anything between you?

It was real.

It had to be. Maybe you were both liars. Maybe you took liberties and withheld the truth. But it was real. It had to be real. Otherwise, you would have destroyed everything and yourself for a beautiful lie. You wouldn't be capable of surviving that.

Still, you nodded in reply to Shoto.

"I don't even know what kind of noodles he likes."

The way he'd said it—the jarring matter-of-factness in his words—took you aback. This was a boy who was almost as repressed as you were. Given the scar over his eye, it seemed to you his wounds were not only emotional.

"He likes ramen," you found yourself saying. "The spicy kind."

Though only small, that information seemed to comfort him somehow.

"He also hates fish," you offered up, spurred on by the flicker of light in his eyes. "And he gets car sick quite easily."

It was striking to you how his left eye was the exact same colour as Dabi's. For a moment, it felt almost like you were looking at him—or at least a shade of him.

"Are you okay?"

Shoto's question drew you back to him, though you hadn't realised you'd slipped away. There was something wet on your cheek, and when you reached up to swipe it away, you found it was your own tears. "I—Yes."

Unbeknownst to you, some of that emotion had crept up to the surface. It was gone before you knew it, and you were left a void once again. Your feelings were an endless storm, and if you allowed yourself to get swept away, you weren't sure if you would be able to come back.

"What... happened to him?"

Shoto's gaze gave nothing away. You wondered if—beneath it—he was holding back a storm, just like you were. "He escaped with some of the League. And Shigaraki."

Did that information sadden you? Or was some small part of you happy he got away, if only so it could be you that would track him down and finally free yourself from your mistakes?

"I should have... tried harder to figure out what he was hiding," you said to Shoto. "I might have been able to stop this, or at least warn you."

"You were infiltrating the League?" Shoto asked. "Like Hawks?"

"It was Dabi—Touya—who got me in." You paused. "I was his subordinate."

The word tasted sour in your mouth. His subordinate. But that was far from all that you were. Maybe you were his curse just as much as he was yours.

If Shoto suspected there was more to it than you let on, he didn't show it. "My father is a few rooms down from here. He hasn't woken up yet. I hope you don't mind that I've been sitting here instead."

You shook your head. "I—It's okay. I don't—" Words seemed to have a habit of failing you. "It was nice to not wake up alone."

Shoto offered you the slightest of smiles. "Hawks has been here."

The knowledge speared you right through the void where your heart used to be. It hurt like you weren't already broken. "Where..." You trailed off, not wanting to continue. "Where is he?"

"He left with Best Jeanist early this morning," Shoto replied, his words a kind of soft that bordered on monotone, but you could tell the difference. "I don't know where they went."

You only nodded, your gaze dragging once again to the flowers by your bedside, and then down to the now crumpled and bruised petal in your fingers. You didn't realise you'd been squeezing it so hard.

The high-pitched shriek of skidding shoes echoed through the hallway outside. The door to your room burst open. This time, it was the Todoroki you'd run into before on your way to meet with Hawks. Natsuo.

"He's—Dad's waking up."

Shoto did not hesitate for one second as he stood up and shot for the door. If anything, it brought a smile to your face. Love and hatred were two sides of the same coin, and you were beginning to understand how one cannot exist without the other.

The youngest Todoroki paused before he could disappear beyond the threshold of your room. He half-turned, one blue eye and one grey eye on you. "Thank you."

For what, you weren't sure. But once the door shut behind him, and you were left completely alone, another tear slipped from your eye. And then another. And another. And for some reason, you couldn't make them stop.

***

You hadn't left—yet.

It would have been easy to slip out of the hospital and disappear. It's what you wanted to do, so why couldn't you? Hawks would inevitably return and you would have to face him. You didn't want that. In fact, you couldn't think of anything you'd rather do less. Yet still, the furthest you'd gotten was a dark corner beneath a stairwell, your half-ruined catsuit in a plastic bag next to you.

Villains were on the loose from Tartarus. Hero society was on its knees. The Safety Commission no longer existed—you no longer existed. It was freedom, even if it had come at a terrible cost. What would you do now? Who would you be? You could choose to vanish for good. To become nothing and no one and live your life away from all of this. But in the end, you couldn't. You wanted to exist more than anything. It was what drove you to take that mission in the first place.

But you had made so many mistakes and destroyed so much. You would never be truly free until you fixed the mess you wrought. This was your burden to bear. You had to make it right in the only way that you knew how. Your hands were already stained; it would be a drop in a bucket after all the blood you've spilled.

It was time to leave.

You gathered up your few belongings and slipped back inside the bustling hospital hallways. Or at least, you tried to. Your path through the door was blocked by another coming your way. A very large, very sad-looking man that could only be the number one hero, Endeavor. Dabi's father.

Endeavor's eyes took you in before sliding to the bag in your hand and back up to you. "You..."

"Me..." you mocked, searching for a way past the brute of a man before you. "I have to go."

"Hawks is—"

"Don't," you held up a hand to stop him from speaking. "Just please... don't. I need to leave."

How you hated that his eyes were the same as Dabi's. That same, brilliant blue you adored—the blue that smouldered like embers of his flame as he gazed down at you. How could something so beautiful come from something so vile?

"Touya..." Endeavor's words trailed off. It angered you that you felt even a twinge of pity for him. "You were... close to him?"

It burned more than it cut. "Define close." You paused, chewing on your lip. "We did nothing but lie to one another. I was an agent, and he was my mark. That is all."

You moved to push past Endeavor, but he stood solid like the wall of a man he was. "Please."

The word was soft from his mouth, but it only enraged you further. "I cared for him more than I should have, okay? It did us both no good in the end." Your temper was flaring with every glance at his broken expression. "I will not soothe your pain. Dabi is a monster that you created and I hate you for it." Tears lined your eyes, but you blinked them away. "Feel every bit of what that means because it is your punishment, just like I must now live with mine."

This time, when you shoved past him, he moved.

You found yourself pausing at the door, one step away from disappearing into the busy hallway and out to the world beyond. Endeavor had not turned to watch you leave, and you did not turn back to look at him. You despised that creature, but you spoke the words anyway.

"There is still good in him, I've seen it."

Before you cared enough to hear his reply, you were already gone.

The hospital was an endless sea of people devastated by the disaster that had occurred only days prior. It was suffocating. Your entire body was tense as you wove through crowded hallways towards the exit. When you finally stepped outside, the air was crisp and cold.

For the first time since you woken up, you felt like you'd taken a proper breath.

It would be easy to disappear from here and never be seen again. God, part of you wanted to. If you had wings to fly, you might have gone. Wings like—

You heard footsteps echo behind you, but you knew it was him by the way the air seemed to shift. It was as if the world was setting this scene for you, and you had no choice but to play it out. At least, that is what you told yourself, though you could never step away from him if you tried.

"You're leaving?"

The words were not his. They were emotionless and robotic. You turned abruptly to find they belonged to the mask attached to his face. The sight of it tore something open inside of you. "Hawks..."

He was there.

He was alive.

But your soul fractured when you saw no wings engulfing him. You knew what happened. You saw it happen. And yet, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him standing before you then.

This is all my fault.

Hawks did not try to come any closer. All you could see were his eyes and they were like they had been when you first met him. Unreadable. After all, he knew the truth. Every foolish, cruel bit of it. Maybe it was best if he hated you for it too.

"How can you look at me?" You choked on the words as if they were shards of glass. "After everything I've done? I failed you. Your wings—"

"They'll grow back."

It was that robotic voice again. A voice that wasn't his.

You hated it.

You hated it.

You hated it.

It was your fault.

"I'm so sorry, Hawks." The tears came again, hot and unrelenting. "I failed everything. I failed you. I'll make it right... I have to make it right."

Hawks reached for you, but you stepped away before his skin could touch yours. You couldn't do it. You wouldn't be able to hold it back. You would crumble right in front of him and there would be no putting you back together. It wasn't his burden to bear. It was yours.

"Please, don't." You put another step between you, and he didn't try to close it. Maybe he was scared of spooking you. Or maybe he didn't want to chase you anymore. "Just let me go. Please. I'll make this right."

You wanted to turn away. You tried to turn away. But you couldn't. Not yet.

Hawks' eyes softened. He tore the mask from his face. "I promised I'd find you," he said, pausing. "I'm sorry I couldn't." If your heart could break again, it would have. "What will you do, dove?"

The words were raspy and broken, but they were his. You savoured every single one and held them close to your broken, bleeding heart. The discarded mask revealed a scar on the left side of his face, running from his neck to the center of his cheek. The sight of it cut you. Despite it all and every terrible thing you felt, he was still so achingly beautiful it was hard to look away.

"I'll find him."

So many feelings floated behind those golden eyes. So many, and yet none at all. How was that possible?

"And then what?"

You were cracking again. If you fell to pieces, would he want to put you back together?

"I'll kill him."

Those unreadable eyes were on you again. "Is that what you want?"

"I don't know..." You choked on the words. "I don't know how to do anything else. I destroyed everything. I failed you. This is the only thing I know how to do right."

Because it was.

You killed.

And killed.

And killed.

If you could not do that, what else did you have?

"Please, Keigo." His name slipped from your lips like a plea. "I can't survive this. If I fall apart here, it's over. I need to do this. I have to. I don't know how to survive otherwise."

You were so thoroughly broken. Every word echoed it.

Did he care anymore?

"Let me go. Please."

Hawks opened his mouth to speak. You could almost hear the words on the tip of his tongue.

I can't.

But he closed his mouth again.

And when you turned to walk away, he didn't try to stop you.

Chapter Text

There was an odd stillness in the air as you stalked through one particular deserted street in a much larger, deserted city. It wasn't a calm kind of stillness, but a foreboding one. Perhaps a suggestion you were about to get jumped at any second, not that you seemed to care.

You didn't know how many days had passed since you left the hospital; they were all beginning to blend together. Since then, you'd followed a trail of destruction left by the escaped Tartarus villains, climbing the ranks of pitiful opponents to mildly acceptable antagonists with the goal of reaching someone who had information on the League's—Dabi's—whereabouts.

So far, you had nothing, though not for lack of trying.

The scene of the city before you looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic novel. Windows to shops were smashed. Old newspapers and rubbish blew across empty streets of abandoned cars, some of their doors flung open as if their owners had fled in haste. You were not alone, though. Curtains to apartment windows high above pulled open slightly as you passed by, drawing quickly shut if you dared to look. Some civilians did not want to abandon their homes in search of safety. You understood why, though it seemed particularly unwise now that every person with a villainous streak had seized the opportunity to bring chaos down around them.

The knives in your hands were chipped and worn with flecks of dried blood crusted over the edges. You must have looked like some kind of demon that crawled up from the bowels of hell. Unkempt. Frayed. Bloody. It didn't help that you hadn't slept properly since you left the hospital—and you were certainly avoiding any mirrors, though what glass windows remained in the streets gave you a good enough indication of how terrible you looked.

You'd already left a trail of corpses from one end of the city to the other. Part of you expected to feel some kind of remorse—but you didn't. If anything, the only thought that frequently crossed your mind was how fucking much you missed the blades you left behind in the PLF headquarters. Your replacements, though sufficient, were short and stubby and not nearly as comfortable as your previous pair. It was rather inconvenient.

An image flickered across a wall of television screens as you passed by one shop window, drawing your attention. Hawks wore a suit as he, along with Endeavor and Best Jeanist, addressed the public regarding all that had transpired and the truth of Dabi's video. The press conference had been a few days ago, it seemed, but this was your first time seeing Hawks since the hospital. It brought you some comfort to know he was capable of speaking on his own now, though the guilt of what happened to him was still a fresh, bleeding wound.

What's going on in your head, birdy?

Your current lead had brought you to an auditorium in the heart of the deserted city. The smell of old popcorn still hung in the air, though it was accompanied by a musty dampness that was far less pleasant. Deeper inside, you found your targets.

The main auditorium hall was almost in complete darkness save for the bright white lights blaring down on the stage. On it, you counted half a dozen villains along with some very petrified-looking individuals who had to be civilians. You spotted at least one dead body on that stage, a puddle of blood around one fatal wound. Whatever was happening here, it was not optional participation.

"Places everyone!" One man clapped, drawing your scrutiny. He was middle-aged with greying hair, dressed in a fine suit of purple velvet with a loose, frilly white shirt underneath. In one of his hands was a long, thin stick. "The Conductor must not wait any longer."

Conductor, you thought. Is this his quirk?

The other villains helped to direct trembling individuals to their places while the Conductor watched on from just below the stage. You drew on your quirk to vanish into darkness as you began to stalk closer, only to abruptly stop when you caught movement in the corner of your eye. Someone else was here.

A boy—no, a teenager—stepped into the auditorium through the same door you'd entered from. Sparks of green light emanated from his body as he caught sight of the scene before him. He stepped forward and a loud creak of wood echoed through the hall. It made you cringe.

"What was that?"

The Conductor spun around, searching for the source of the noise but you had already lunged forward and grabbed the teenager by the forearm, dragging him beneath your veil of darkness the same way you'd shielded Hawks before. He pulled from you on instinct, but you held on tight.

"Do you have no sense of self-preservation?" you whisper yelled. "You're going to ruin my plan." When he didn't reply, you continued. "Let's approach this with a little stealth, okay? I don't know what his quirk is yet."

Finally, he spoke. "I remember you from the battle. You were the one fighting with Dabi? The one Todoroki brought to the hospital?"

"How about we clean this mess up and I give you my life story later?" you said, pausing as the boy nodded. "Good. I'm going to let you go now and you're going to be visible again. I will get as close to the Conductor as possible."

He nodded again and you released his forearm, wrapping the darkness around yourself as you prepared to stalk towards your target. Only, the great big spotlight that lit up the stage swiveled immediately in your direction, shining down on the teenage boy and throwing you out of your shadows. Shit. All eyes were on you both. I didn't realise anyone was watching from above.

"Well, look at that!" The Conductor extended his arms dramatically. "Heroes have joined us. A whole new show is just beginning." He clapped his hands together. "Music, please!"

The large speakers on either side of the stage immediately switched on and an orchestral symphony filled the hall as the Conductor lifted his baton, directing it towards both of you.

"Fuck it," you grumbled as you squeezed the handles of your knives. "We're doing this your way now."

You sprinted forward, using the backs of the audience chairs as stepping stones to reach the Conductor. The boy took to the air above you, his arms and legs glowing as he descended towards his enemy. A strength-based quirk? You were faster than lightning as you lunged for the Conductor, but as soon as he lifted his baton directly towards you, your body folded in on itself and crumpled down.

What was that?

Your limbs froze as if bound in an invisible rope. No matter how hard you struggled, you could barely move an inch of your own free will. His quirk. You muttered a string of curses. He can control other people's bodies, but what are the requirements?

The boy shot toward the Conductor from the air above, his fist glowing with remarkable power as he drew it back to strike. But then, the Conductor moved his attention from you to the boy, pointing his baton once again and the hero crashed down, smashing through chairs with a muffled groan. Without his attention, you could move your body again.

The baton directs his quirk and he can only control one person at a time, but there's something else, something more...

You lunged for the Conductor, your knives glinting in the spotlight. His attention turned back to you.

It's the music.

"The s—" you yelled to the boy, but your throat closed up once the tip of that baton was pointed at you. "De...str—"

Fucking piece of shit.

You struggled to even meet the eyes of your hero companion, but you raged against the quirk holding you down until you could do at least that, hoping that flicking your gaze to the speakers was enough to convey your intentions.

The young hero changed target.

The villainous lackeys descended the stage, their weapons gleaming menacingly as they approached your prone figure. Shit. Shit. Shit. You struggled, pulling against the invisible hold as you tried to stand and defend yourself.

"Smash."

Bits of metal and plastic speared through the air as the furthest speaker crashed to the side of the stage. Before the Conductor could turn around, the second one had already been on the receiving end of the young hero's boot. It hit the ground with a satisfying thump.

Your body returned to you. "You're all pathetic." Within ten seconds, you'd disarmed and downed three of the approaching villains, leaving them groaning at your feet. The freckled hero handled the rest. You knocked the baton from the Conductor's fingers and pointed the tip of your knife at his throat. "Now, I'd like to ask you something. It would be in your best interest to answer honestly."

The Conductor froze, wide-eyed and so very scared. Part of you loved it, though the short dagger didn't really translate your deadliness quite like your sharp, pretty blades did.

"Where are the League of Villains?"

"I—I don't know!" he exclaimed. "I was allowed to escape Tartarus with the goal of causing havoc, I don't know anything about the League's whereabouts."

"Pity," you said, pursing your lips. "I guess I'll find someone who does, then."

You lifted your dagger to finish him, but he jerked away, terrified. "You're not going to kill me! You're a hero!"

You raised a perfect brow. "Why does everyone keep saying that to me? I am not nearly that noble."

With a flick of your wrist—

Well, that was the intention, only you suddenly found your hands bound with some kind of black energy whip. The knife in your fingers clattered to the floor. You swiveled your head towards the young hero.

"I don't—" He dragged a hand through the back of his unruly, dark green hair awkwardly. "I don't kill villains."

You eyed him suspiciously. Does this kid have more than one quirk? Given that your hands were bound with a quirk that was certainly not the same as the strength one he'd used earlier, all signs pointed to yes.

Interesting.

You sighed dramatically. "Fine, I won't kill anyone." You lifted your bound wrists. "Can you let me go now?"

"I—uh... yes!"

The whip dissipated and you stepped back from the Conductor, but not before smashing the butt of your knife into his temple, knocking him unconscious. You smiled at how harshly he crumpled to the floor.

You turned your attention to the boy. "What's your name?"

"My hero name is Deku," he replied, offering you a small smile. "What's yours?"

"I don't have one," you returned. "I'm just Nyx."

"Uh...cool!" He offered you a gloved hand. You accepted. "You can call me Izuku if you want, then. Either is okay."

"Are you also searching for the League?"

Deku nodded. "I guess so." He paused, his green eyes studying you. "Why are you looking for them?"

"It's... complicated." You picked up your fallen knife, surveying the chipped edges. "We can get into all that later. How about you and I work together towards our common goal? Makes more sense, don't you think?"

And I'm getting a little bored on my own.

After spending months in the League's company, you weren't exactly ready to return to the complete social isolation of your former existence.

Deku grinned at you. "Sure!"

You rolled your shoulders, eyeing the civilians you'd just aided in rescuing who were still huddled on the stage. "We should probably get these people to safety first."

Deku nodded again, heading up the stage steps. You followed closely behind. "So..." he said after a moment. "Will you tell me how your quirk works?"

You did.

***

You were on the roof of Hawks' apartment.

You'd been there for an hour already.

Why were you on the roof of Hawks' apartment?

Well, you weren't entirely sure what your reasoning was. Maybe it was that you'd seen him on television earlier that day and it left you with an ache in your chest that you couldn't seem to vanish. How is he doing? Is he okay? Deku and you parted ways a couple of hours ago with the promise of continuing your villain hunt together, but now you were left completely to your own devices for the remainder of the night, which spelled disaster.

You only wanted to catch a glimpse of him. One little glance and you could leave again.

But you were also selfish.

You could have gotten your glimpse a while ago, but instead, you paced his rooftop, feeding into the ball of nervous energy in your chest, making no move to find him.

Because the truth was, you didn't just want to see him—you wanted to speak to him. You didn't want your last encounter to be all that you remembered. This was Hawks. You'd flown over the city in his arms. And now—

He probably hates me.

The sound of his balcony doors swinging open startled you. Time to go. That would have been the kinder option, but you were selfish, after all. You couldn't leave now, not until you at least saw him. Just for a second. You crept to the edge of the roof, hoping to peer down onto his balcony and just make sure—

"Are you going to keep lurking out here all night?"

It was his voice, rough around the edges where he was still healing. But it was his. Flirtatious—and so very his. Your heart leaped into your throat. Caught red-handed. But it was too late to flee, so you dropped down to his level.

"Lurking is a strong term," you replied. "I was on my way to another part of the city, I just passed by this particular rooftop very slowly."

A blatant lie.

Hawks exhaled a laugh, and the sound of it loosened something inside of you. He turned to face you, his beautiful golden eyes trailing over you, the slightest of smirks playing on his lips. "It's good to see you, dove."

Is it?

You could feel the words on the tip of your tongue, but you opted for something else instead. "I saw you on TV earlier. It was a re-run of the press conference from a few days ago. I guess I... wanted to see you were doing okay."

Hawks opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off, babbling.

"If—If this was too selfish of me, just tell me. I'll go. I just..."

"Dove," Hawks interjected, his smirk growing.

"Yes?"

"I don't want you to leave."

Heat rose to your cheeks. He said those words with sincerity, though instead of putting you at ease they made your broken little heart skip a beat. Would it be too much to hope you could still be his friend? Even if you couldn't have him any other way?

Those golden eyes remained perfectly unreadable. "Do you want to come inside?"

The blush on your cheeks rose to the tips of your ears. "I... shouldn't."

Hawks smiled, and the only word you could find to describe it was devastation. "Would you prefer to pace the roof for another hour?"

This time, your entire being flushed crimson. "You knew I was up there?"

Hawks shrugged, but the way his gaze held you felt like so much more. "I was wondering how long it would take you."

You looked away from him, cheeks burning. "I was nervous."

"And why would that be?"

Your voice was as soft as a whisper as you muttered, "You know why." When Hawks didn't immediately reply, you babbled again. "And honestly? I wasn't exactly sure I wanted you to see me like this." Though you'd rid yourself of layers of grime, the bags around your eyes still remained. "The fact I'm not covered in blood and dirt is for your benefit."

"I thought you said you were just passing by?"

Fuck my life.

When you found the courage to look at him, you found him smiling again. It was a sight that cut you just as much as it knit you back together. He was playing with you and it was fucking infuriating, but it was also a gift. One you did not deserve.

"I have something for you," Hawks said after a moment. "If you won't come inside, I'll have to go get them for you."

Your lips curved upward. "I guess you'll have to go and get them, then."

He shot you a playful little smirk that would bring legions of his fans to their knees. If you weren't leaning against the balcony rail, you might very well have fallen to yours, too.

Hawks turned to disappear into his apartment and you caught sight of his wings. Well, what remained of them. The stubs left behind from Dabi's vicious torture had sprouted new, tiny crimson wings that were peaking out through the slits in his jacket. They were a fraction of what they had been before, but they brought you comfort, nonetheless. You would never forgive yourself if he'd lost them.

When Hawks returned, he was carrying two forearm-length knives that you thought you would never see again. "They were found when the headquarters was being cleared out a couple of days after," he said. "I wanted to give them to you at the hospital, but the timing—"

"—wasn't quite right?" you finished for him, wrapping your fingers around the hilts of both blades as he offered them. Lifting one, you dragged your eyes over the perfect, unmarked edge, noticing— "Did you sharpen these for me?"

Hawks only nodded, though he watched you rather intensely. It made your pulse race, especially now that you couldn't read a single emotion behind his eyes.

"I—thank you," you added, smiling softly. "My replacements just weren't the same."

"I'm assuming the trail of escaped—dead—villains left behind for my sidekicks the past while is your doing?"

You gave him a dark little grin. "I may have had something to do with that." You paused, sheathing your knives. "I found an interesting one today. He had a... very annoying stick."

Hawks quirked a brow upward. "A... stick?"

"A baton is the correct word for it actually..." you trailed off, meeting Hawks' golden eyes. This was enough. This was all you should take. "But that doesn't matter. It's probably time for me to go."

You'd vanished from this balcony once before, it shouldn't be hard to do it again. And yet, you found yourself hesitating.

"Dove?"

How could you tear your eyes from him?

"Yes?"

Hawks' throat bobbed uncharacteristically as his golden gaze flicked over you once again. "I shouldn't have let you go."

You lost the ability to breathe. "What do you mean?"

"At the hospital..." Hawks answered, trailing off. "I regret letting you leave. It's not what I wanted."

You smiled sadly, feeling that hole in your chest as it ached and ached and ached. "It's okay if it was. I... understand."

"It's not," Hawks said, averting his eyes from you as he dragged a hand through his golden waves. "I just..."

"It's okay." You squeezed yours shut. "You don't have to..."

"You're hurting, dove." Hawks' voice was soft, coaxing you to open your eyes again. "I don't want to see you hurting."

"I'm okay, I promise."

Another lie.

Hawks looked even more devastating when he was frustrated with you. What a shame it would be if you only got the chance to kiss him just once. What a shame it would be if you never got to see that beautiful view as you fell.

Would he still want to catch you?

"I might have been the one who felt that fire, but it's you who's burning now."

He was right.

You were burning—you had been for a while. But you couldn't feel it. Not now. It wasn't his burden. And you were scared. So fucking scared of what might happen if you did.

"I've never been very good at feeling things." Your words were achingly soft. "I used to go from one mission to the next and sleep like a baby even if my fingers were still stained in blood. I didn't realise I wasn't living until I was." You paused, inhaling a breath. "But then I started to feel, and I felt so fucking much all at once. I realised I knew nothing about myself or who I wanted to be. I got so lost in it. I forgot what I was fighting for and I let you get hurt. For that, I am sorry."

"Nyx..."

Hawks' hand twitched at his side, almost as if he wanted to reach out and touch you, but decided against it. You understood. God, you understood—but it burned you still.

"We don't get the luxury of standing still," you continued, smiling sadly. "And I have to keep moving or else I will feel all of it, and I can't. But I want you to know that I am on your side—that I will fight for a world I want to live in, even if my motivations aren't always entirely pure."

"I know, dove."

The soft look in his eyes was perfect torture. How was it fair that you still had to leave?

"Goodnight, Keigo."

You were already darkness on the breeze when you heard his gentle reply. "Be careful, Nyx."

This time, the leaving didn't hurt you quite so much.

Chapter Text

One For All.

Deku's explanation barely did it any justice—now that you got the chance to witness the devastating power of his multiple quirks in action. The fate of the entire world was placed in his battered hands and he accepted that burden as if it was a gift. Maybe to someone born quirkless, it was.

Below, the young hero was fighting in a canal of water against a villain known as Muscular. His thick, sinewy body lived up to the name he gave himself, and you couldn't help but cringe every time they lunged at one another. Strength-based quirks weren't a good match for you; one hit from someone like that and you would be sent straight into next week. However, watching a battle between powerful quirks was very enjoyable viewing.

You sat in a rather comfortable chair, feet kicked up on a wooden table in the balcony area of some apartment overlooking the scene below, picking at the dirt beneath your nails with a small dagger.

Deku slammed Muscular into the canal using Blackwhip, the force of the impact sending streams of water high enough up that you felt a few drops land on your cheeks.

One For All wasn't just a burden, it was a target. Deku's goal was to hunt down villains, and the more time you spent with him, the more you realised it was because he was the one being hunted by them. It made it much easier to find opponents, but days of conflict had left the student looking more villain than hero himself. You understood why he had abandoned UA—he wanted to keep his friends safe.

If you were in his shoes, you wanted to say you would do the same thing, but you weren't sure. There was someone you were supposed to be keeping away from. One cocky, flirtatious someone with pretty golden eyes and a rather infuriating ability to reduce your legs to jelly with a mere indecent twist of his perfect lips. For Hawks' sake, you needed to avoid him. You were a catastrophe waiting to happen, and if you weren't so singularly focused on finding Dabi, you probably would have fallen to pieces already.

Alas, you weren't always so good at following your own advice. In the days that passed since you'd last seen him, you found yourself seeking out his apartment rooftop in the shadow of night. Not to speak to him. Not to even see him—though another glimpse wouldn't hurt. You would only stay for a moment, wonder, and then move on.

But why did you keep returning?

Part of it was guilt, yes. Another part of it was that you cared for him. But above all, it was because Hawks was the only tether you had left to the person you became when you took that mission. Despite how much trouble her feelings had gotten you into, you weren't ready to lose her just yet.

A broken heart is better than no heart at all.

It was a reminder that you did exist, if only for a moment.

Down below, a flash of green drew you back to the present as Deku smashed his fist into Muscular's stomach, the force of it parting the water on either side of the hero. One punch, maximum power, and the villain was defeated.

You leaped from the chair, clapping as you called down to Deku, "Nice finishing move, lots of dramatic flair!"

The hero wrapped Muscular in Blackwhip and immediately set off towards the police station.

"Wait for me!" you shouted as you jumped between balconies and climbed onto rooftops. "I don't have the ability to float!"

Daina Police Station was not far away, and Deku left a bound Muscular in the hands of a pair of shocked-looking officers before jumping off again to join you on a nearby rooftop.

"You're getting better at using your quirks," you commented as he landed. "And the full strength of your physical abilities."

Deku shook his head. "It's not enough."

Never before had you met anyone with the kind of determination that Deku possessed. At times, you found it borderline insane—but you also understood it. Once, a similar stubbornness drove you to become a weapon for the Commission to use in their clandestine fight against the underworld's worst villains.

"Shouldn't you of all people know that you're not alone in this? The world is on your shoulders, Deku, but it isn't your responsibility alone."

The brightness in the smile Deku had given you that first day had flickered out in the time that followed. His clothes were torn and tattered, his face and hair was streaked in dirt and his freckled skin had taken on a greyish pallor. You suspected—like you—the battle with the League had forever marked him.

"And what about you?" Deku replied, his dark green eyes meeting yours. "What happened wasn't your fault. It's not your responsibility to find the League."

"Touché," you said with a grin, bumping your fist against his shoulder. "Being edgy doesn't suit you."

Deku smiled slightly at that, and you were relieved to see it. He plucked a phone from his pocket and contacted who you assumed was All Might to meet up with him in a nearby alleyway.

"Is he bringing you another lunchbox?" you asked as Deku pocketed his phone. "I like that he cuts the sausages so they look like little octopuses. It's adorable."

Deku shot you a look, but you were already far too fond of teasing him about his relationship with the world's greatest hero.

"What?" you muttered innocently. "Don't pretend you don't like it too."

Deku shot off towards his meeting place with All Might, leaving you nothing to do but follow. Within a few minutes of your arrival, All Might—a thin, sickly-looking blonde man—appeared, his eyes drifting over Deku's tattered clothes. It was clear there was love between them from the concern that appeared on his face. The sight of it made something in your chest clench.

You watched their exchange from above, deciding against being an odd kind of third-wheel. But when All Might's phone rang and you heard the name Hawks leave his mouth, you were suddenly very interested in the conversation below you.

Unfortunately, you didn't get a chance to deduce any information about Hawks' current activities. Deku's spine grew rigid—a tell you learned meant his Danger Sense ability had just activated—and he leaped off with barely any warning for you or the former number-one hero with him.

Your lack of training during your time with the League made chasing him all the time just a bit harder.

"I heard him mention Hawks," you called to Deku as you darted from rooftop to rooftop below where he was floating. "Is he okay?"

"He's fighting a villain with Best Jeanist and Endeavor," Deku supplied as an answer, deciding to join you on foot. "They're on the other side of the city."

Fighting again already?

You knew nothing could keep Hawks from his heroic duties if he was capable of helping at all—and he was, even without the ability to fly. But yet, part of you wanted to scold him for pushing himself too hard.

Of course, you would have to see him to scold him, which you most definitely shouldn't do.

***

Darkness fell over the city, accompanied by fat droplets of cold rain that dripped through your hair and down the sides of your face as you stalked through the night.

Deku's latest warning from his Danger Sense ability had led you to three men cornering a terrified woman, and if you had your way, they would have all been knocked out and left to soak through beneath the elements. Her mutant quirk was an easy target for their fear. Unfortunately, Deku was a fan of the diplomatic approach, and he was currently attempting to diffuse the situation while you snuck up beside the shaking woman.

"Hey," you whispered, holding out a hand. "Come this way."

Her wide eyes focused on you, tears still streaming down her pretty teal fur. She slid a hand into yours, letting you tug her a little away from the three arguing men. You activated your quirk, letting it flow over both of you.

"They can't see us now," you whispered to the woman. "Don't worry, you're safe."

The words felt foreign leaving your lips. When had you promised someone's safety instead of threatening them with a swift end?

Deku, exasperated with his arguing, had managed to talk down the three civilians. That, and the fact that their target had disappeared, left them with nothing to do but leave. The young hero watched them disappear before turning to where you were cloaked. You rescinded your shadows, straightened, and offered the woman a hand up. She accepted.

"Fear is poisonous," you said as you helped her stand, "but it is not an excuse for being an asshole."

"We'll have someone take you to a shelter," Deku added, pulling out his phone. "It isn't safe for anyone out here right now."

"Thank you," she whispered, teary-eyed. "Thank you both so much."

You did your best to assuage her remaining fear as Deku made the call to All Might, but you most definitely lacked experience in the people-facing side of heroism—everything you said fell a little flat compared to how it would have been delivered from someone like Deku. Still, she thanked you profusely as she huddled beneath a doorway and out of the rain.

Deku pocketed his phone again and you strode over to where he was standing. "On his way?"

The hero nodded. "Should be ten minutes or so."

From the strange look he was giving you, you deduced he had something he wanted to say. "What is it?" you asked.

"You are a hero, you know."

You exhaled an incredulous laugh. "I am not."

Deku pressed on. "Isn't that what you want?"

Your gaze fell to your feet as you kicked at a pebble with the toe of your boot. "I was taught the only way I could save lives was to take them away." The pebble skittered across a puddle and disappeared into a shadow. "Things are different now, I am different now—but I still have this... darkness inside of me. I would commit any sin to get what I want."

Deku's dark green eyes looked almost black against the night. What could a pure heart like his think of one as corrupted as yours? "But that doesn't have to be who you are anymore."

"It's not all that I am," you affirmed, meeting his gaze. "But it is still part of me—and I don't want to be afraid of it. I once asked someone how am I be any better than the villains I kill... do you want to know what he said?"

Deku nodded. You continued.

"He told me I'm not." The ghost of a smile curved your lips at the memory. "That someone has to be worse. I think I finally understand it now. The difference between what is right and what is wrong isn't so black and white. Someone has to be a little grey, and I guess that is who I am."

A little grey, you thought. I like it.

"But to answer your question," you followed on. "There's only one person I want to think of me as a hero."

Deku opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of screeching tires drew both of your attentions as All Might pulled up, skidding to a stop. He slipped out of the driver's side, an umbrella and a lunchbox in hand. You smiled a little, but the expression was quickly replaced by surprise as the passenger door opened, and out came the exact person you were hoping to avoid.

Shit.

You vanished into shadow so suddenly it startled Deku, who was in the process of helping the woman towards All Might's car.

Hawks was dressed in his hero costume, though he deemed an umbrella unnecessary as both he and All Might approached Deku. It relieved you to see he was well. Better than well, even. He looked like every wicked fantasy you'd ever had. As he passed beneath the glow of a streetlamp, you couldn't help but appreciate how handsome he was with his hair cropped shorter. Had you not noticed it in the dark of his apartment balcony? He'd fought with flames and somehow came out looking like every indecent thought you'd ever had about him. You could imagine tracing your finger over the scar on his cheek, and then your—

Stop it, Nyx.

All Might spoke softly to the woman as she took a seat in the back of his car, Deku beside them.

Hawks, on the other hand, continued walking directly toward you as if he could see exactly where you were hiding. He couldn't, of course, though it still made your pulse quicken.

"I know you're here, dove."

Or maybe you were wrong.

You appeared directly before him, noting how his lips curved into a little grin as you did. "How did you know?"

"I saw you from the window," Hawks replied. You glared at him, though that only earned you another grin. "Deku mentioned to All Might you were working with him now. I figured you'd be here tonight."

"Can't get enough of me?"

His grin turned to a smirk at your teasing, and you immediately regretted opening your mouth. "Something like that."

You were suddenly thankful for the rain if only to cool the heat rapidly rising to your cheeks. "Is there something I can help you with, Hawks?"

His golden gaze sliced through you. "Do I need a reason to come and speak to you?"

Inside, you were reciting every curse word in your vocabulary as if it would keep you together. It had been a long day, and you were tired. Tired enough that you didn't possess the same ability to withstand Hawks' arrogant charm. And it certainly didn't help that he looked like some kind of bad—but very, very good—decision you were about to make.

"I'm pretty busy, you know." You chewed on the inside of your lip, avoiding looking directly at him. God, why did he have to look so good? "Saving people and all that."

Amusement lit in his eyes. "I don't doubt that." Hawks tilted his head to the sky, droplets of rain dripping over his golden skin and down his jaw. When did you start looking at him again? "But it's late and it's raining. You should rest."

That last line didn't sound like a suggestion. Was he worried about you?

"I didn't know villainy takes a day off when it rains."

Hawks pointedly ignored your sarcasm. "Come back with me."

Your heart skipped over a beat. "Where?"

Golden eyes glittered with amusement. "To my apartment. You know where that is, don't you?"

You shot him a glare, despite how your skin flushed at the mere thought. "You know I'm not going to do that."

"Worth a try."

He's toying with  me , and  I  still fucking like it.

You opened your mouth to speak, another retort or maybe one of those curses on the tip of your tongue, but it died before you could utter anything as Hawks shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

It was warm and it smelled like him and that was enough to soften every sharp edge inside of you.

"I—I don't—"

What would you say? Would you take it off and hand it back? Why were you so flustered?

"I have loads of them," Hawks said, as if that was reason enough to keep it. "It's cold tonight."

The question was small and soft as it left your lips. "Why?"

Hawks was watching you intently. You hated when he did because you desperately wanted to know what he was thinking, but his mask was so carefully crafted and impenetrable. "Because I meant what I said."

You waited for him to elaborate, heartbeat quickening, but he never did.

"Keep warm, dove."

And then he was walking back to the car in nothing but a t-shirt while the rain poured over him, and you found yourself clutching his jacket around you like a grudge you intended to keep.

Chapter Text

It was raining again.

The chill of it didn't bother you tonight, though part of you still craved the warmth of Hawks' jacket. You'd left it behind, not wanting to run into him while still wearing it. You could imagine how he would tease you for it, inciting your frustration with an arrogant twist of his lips. And every taunting comment would be completely true, yet you would vehemently deny each one. You only needed it because it was cold, not because it reminded you of him, and certainly not because it smelled like him.

Of course not.

If anything, the rain was a welcome reprieve for your aching muscles. You hadn't stopped for hours or even days. At times, you found yourself so singularly focused on finding him that you didn't want to stop, not even to sleep. Deku seemed to share your destructive determination, though you were worried for him. There was only enough room in this duo for one emotionally unstable vigilante.

As for the object of your cursed manhunt, you couldn't allow yourself to think of his name. It was easier to imagine he was a job and not a person. Merely another villain, thief of lives—and hearts. There was a wound inside of you and it had been festering since he'd inflicted it upon you, though the blame was solely yours. So many hateful words were said, yet it was those left unsaid that were far worse. If you let it in—if you stopped holding back the ever-growing storm inside you—it would break you irreparably. That, you were sure of.

"What are you thinking about?"

Deku's voice tugged you back to reality. You focused on him. The ragged, dark green hood and metallic mouthpiece he wore made him look far more menacing than the freckled teenager he was. He'd stopped moving, standing on the edge of a rooftop to survey the area. "Oh, just our impending doom."

You couldn't see his face, but you imagined he cracked a smile. "We'll find them."

"I know," you replied.

That's what I'm afraid of.

Would you ever be ready to face him again? Or would you crumble like you did before?

"You still haven't told me what happened with you and the League," Deku said after a moment of silence. You were thankful he didn't utter his name, though you knew that's what he was asking about.

"Careful, Deku, I only trade truths for truths. Were you running from a little girlfriend—or boyfriend—when you left UA?"

Deku fiercely shook his head. "No... no. Nothing like that. I just..." He trailed off.

"You don't have to justify anything. I'm here too, after all." You brought your gaze back to the dark, derelict city below. "But I know you have so many people that care about you. Let them."

"Shouldn't you be taking your own advice?"

You glanced sidelong at him, a grin curving your lips. "And face my crippling fear of emotional intimacy? I think not."

Deku laughed awkwardly and pulled out his phone, bringing it to his ear. It was about time to catch up with All Might, wherever he was in the streets below. You wondered if Hawks was near too, or if he was—

You heard the shot a split second before the bullet connected with Deku's phone. It vanished from his hands, pinned against the concrete wall behind you.

The colour of the bullet caught your attention. Pink and purple.

"The boy in the green outfit." It was a woman's voice. The device she spoke through came from the bullet. "You're coming with me."

I know that voice.

It was so familiar, but you couldn't quite grasp at the memory. It was from before—from the Commission days. Wasn't it?

"If you behave," she continued. "I'll let you keep your limbs."

An image flickered in your mind. Pink and purple. She'd been there when you returned from a job one day. Pink and purple. It was raining, just like this one. You were still a teenager, yet you were covered in blood. She'd been leaned against a doorframe in your old headquarters and you'd paid her no attention as you stalked by, drops of rain mixed with crimson marking your steps. It was her hair—pink and purple. What was her name?

Lady Nagant.

Something clicked in your mind.

"Deku," you hissed to him, voice low. You had no idea if she could hear you somehow, and you didn't want to take any chances. "She came from the same place I did."

Deku didn't look in your direction, still frozen as the cogs turned in his mind, but you knew he was listening.

"You need to keep her busy," you whispered. "I'll get out of sight and use my quirk to sneak up on her. Just keep her occupied."

Deku moved.

She shot.

He narrowly missed it by leaping into the air. Blackwhip tore the broken comms device from where it was lodged in the concrete and Deku swung away. You used her diverted attention to slip out of sight before disappearing into shadow. She wasn't after you. She hadn't even deemed you a threat. Did she remember who you were?

Another shot. A streak of purple.

You reappeared at the top of a nearby building, crouched low as you assessed her location. She was at least a kilometer away, and by the shots, you could pinpoint a general area. As a sniper, she'd be high up. It had to be a rooftop.

You vanished again.

It was dark enough that you could use your quirk. With your speed, it would take only a couple of minutes to reach her. You just needed Deku to distract her long enough for you to disable her.

The memory flickered in your mind again.

"So, you're the new me?"

Had she stopped you on your way inside? Yes—she had. Back then, you were a wholly different person. Most of your memory from that time blurred into a stain of red. You cared for nothing but your duty to kill. You lived solely as the dark and terrible creature inside you—driven only by a desire to be faster, stronger, deadlier.

Her eyes drifted to the blood coating your fingers. You hadn't noticed it was there until her attention had fixed on it, but you felt it now. You smiled. "And you are...?"

"A mirror," she replied, twirling a strand of purple-pink hair around her index finger. You'd heard of her before. Lady Nagant—the human sniper rifle. "I met you once when you were much smaller, I doubt you remember it." She paused, flicking an assessing gaze over you. "Look at you now. They made you into a monster, too."

"A monster," you repeated. The idea didn't seem to bother you in the slightest—or maybe it did. You couldn't tell.

The blood on your hands began to feel tacky. You clenched and unclenched your fist. She watched you carefully.

"You won't be able to wash that off one day," she said, a smirk curving her pretty lips. "You'll drown in all  that  blood you've spilled. Let's hope one of us will be able to come up for air."

"Water and soap seem to work just fine," you replied dismissively, surveying the flakes of blood crusted beneath your nails. "And I'm a great swimmer."

Her smirk only grew. "We'll see, won't we?"

Your phone was ringing. The vibration of it against your skin was enough to tear you from your mind. Was it Hawks? Most likely, he knew Deku's GPS had gone offline and feared the worst. You didn't reach for it—the ringing stopped eventually. You needed to reach her before one of those bullets met flesh.

You found her on a rooftop, just like you expected. She was smaller than you remembered—or maybe you were just bigger. She wore a skirted purple bodysuit with a red utility belt wrapped around her waist and boots that reached presumably past her knee. Her hair was shorter than you remembered it being, but its two-tone colour was unmistakable.

The blades in your hands were light as feathers.

Three steps, dismiss your shadows, strike. That's all it would take. She was far too dangerous to leave alive, even if she knew anything about the League. You could not afford to give her a moment.

She was a mirror of you, and you knew what she was capable of.

But when you lunged—when you stepped from your shadows to swing your blades towards her neck—she reacted faster.

Your knives bit into metal. The screech of it pierced your eardrums. She'd thrown her quirk arm up to block you with only a split-second of action. She was formidable. You expected nothing less of someone trained as you were. You jumped back several paces, tracking the movement of her right elbow as she studied you.

"Strike while your opponent is unaware," she said, a grin forming on her lips. Rain dripped down her face in rivulets, but she didn't seem to care. "They taught you well."

You hadn't hesitated in trying to kill her. Was it your choice or were you still fighting like the monster the Commission designed?

She won't hesitate to dismember Deku if it means she'll complete her mission.

You knew that same drive better than anyone.

"I won't let you take him."

You disappeared again, lunging towards her, swinging your blades in a wide arc as you reappeared. She dodged, grasping one of your wrists to tug you off-balance as she drove her knee into your stomach. Pain exploded across your lower ribs and the air left your lungs at a pace so fast it left you breathless. She let go of your wrist to pull a piece of hair from her head and you caught yourself, sending an elbow backward. It connected with her chin, snapping her neck to the side so abruptly you thought you might have broken something.

Lady Nagant retreated several steps and you did the same, clutching your bruising ribs with your left arm.

"Haven't you gotten tired of being their dog?" she muttered, blood dripping down her chin from a busted lip. She wiped it away. "Or do you enjoy being ordered around?"

"I could ask the same of you. Have you not traded one leash for another? You're free from Tartarus and already bound to a new master."

Rage flickered across her face.

"The Commission is finished," you continued. "No one has ordered me to be here."

Lady Nagant curled her lip into a sneer. "You may not be theirs anymore, but you're still a slave to this society they've built on lies and blood." Her deep purple eyes pierced through you. "You were made to be used until there's nothing left of you—and then replaced. You're nothing but a tool. You're not even human. I pity you for not seeing that."

She moved so fast that you barely registered it. A glimpse of pink and purple caught your eye before she slotted it into the chamber that appeared at her elbow. Had she managed to make a bullet when she reached for her hair before? You didn't have time to think—you barely had time to act.

You threw yourself out of the way, reaching for your shadows, but the speed of her bullet far outmatched yours. Pain exploded across your thigh as it dragged over your flesh, cutting through fabric and skin as if it were paper.

It's only a graze.

But the fresh blood leaking down your left leg was indication enough that this would slow you significantly. Was that her intention?

High on adrenaline, you lunged. "Do you not think I want to watch this world burn?" You screamed the words at her as you struck. Metal bit into metal. "I could watch it suffer. I could kill without mercy and enjoy every second of it because I deserve that vengeance. But where would that leave me?"

Your right foot connected with her stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs. She stumbled back several paces, her dark eyes never leaving yours.

"I am a monster," you spat out as you stalked for her. "But it isn't all that I want to be. Not anymore."

Lady Nagant straightened, her lips pressed into a thin line. "You are a fool."

"This isn't what you want, I know that better than anyone." You took a step towards her. "You wanted to be a hero more than anything—you still do."

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "Stop."

"You were right before." You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the hilts of your knives. Clean, but not. "My hands are stained and they always will be. Yours, too."

"Please," she whispered, reaching up to clutch her head. "Stop."

"Fuck the Commission," you said, closing distance. You could almost reach for her. "Fuck everything they did to us. We can stop this cycle, we can be more than what they made us."

Lady Nagant let her hands fall away from her head, her eyes lined with tears as she looked at you. "I'm sorry."

And then she struck, quick as a viper, driving her foot into your injured leg. You crumpled to the ground, pain searing your veins as more blood pumped from the wound, mixing with rainwater as it puddled on the rooftop.

Fucking bitch.

Then she was gone, walking across the air as if it were solid ground under her feet.

Another quirk? You cursed aloud. All For One.

There would be no chance of catching her before she reached Deku—not with your battered leg. The shot was purposeful and perfectly struck. She was your senior, after all.

You staggered to your feet, reaching for the phone tucked away in your catsuit. You needed to find something to staunch the bleeding, but first, you needed to warn Hawks. He picked up immediately.

"Where are you? Are you okay?"

Hawks' voice was like salve to your aching wound. "Worried about me? I'm flattered." You pressed the phone between your ear and shoulder as you searched for something to aid you. You reached for a handle to the only door on the rooftop. "I've been better, but I'm fine. You need to find Deku—it's Lady Nagant. I couldn't stop her. She has another quirk from All For One."

"Shit," Hawks cursed. "I'm almost at his last location."

You opened the door. "He should be close to there still. Just hurry."

You startled at the sight of a man kneeling on the ground beyond the door, letting out a small yelp. He didn't move or stir at your approach, only continuing to stare vacantly at the floor beneath him. You recognised him, though. Kai Chisaki. He'd been arrested after a fight with heroes, including students from UA. Was that why Lady Nagant had taken him with her from Tartarus?

"What is it?" Hawks asked, still on the line.

"Don't worry about it," you replied. "Find Deku. I'll be there soon." You hung up.

"Boss..." Kai Chisaki was little more than a husk. His words were soft and barely audible. "I need to..." He trailed off.

"Right," you muttered, stepping into the room. "Be a dear and give me a sleeve of that shirt you're wearing." You eyed his missing forearms. "You don't look like you need it that badly."

Finally, he looked up at you.

***

Streaks of green and purple lit the dark sky as Lady Nagant and Deku raged in their battle against one another. You'd tied one of Chisaki's shirt sleeves around your thigh and stumbled back out onto the rooftop.

"If you know what's good for you, stay here."

Chisaki, having said less than five words in the entire time you were with him, nodded blankly.

You needed to get down to ground level and find Hawks. Deku could handle Lady Nagant, or at least, you hoped he could.

It took you a pitifully long time to descend five flights of stairs. Up above, Deku was still fighting, though the battle had turned in his favour. Lady Nagant's right arm was destroyed and she was staring at wherever Deku had disappeared in utter disbelief.

But then she started to fall.

You weren't surprised when Deku caught her. He was the one who'd stopped you from killing every villain you saw. His relentless optimism grated on you, but you adored it at the same time. It was rare to find a heart so pure.

Deku was pleading with her, the words lost amongst the pelting rain save for a few.

"You know darkness all too well. You should know where to find the light in the future."

The wall inside you—the one holding back all of those terrible emotions—cracked. For a moment, you tasted your pain and your hurt and your guilt and even your love. His soul was far more beautiful than yours ever was or ever could be, and you were glad. You were so fucking glad that someone like him existed—that no matter how deep into despair you might fall, there would be someone brave enough to believe you could be saved.

You almost slid to your knees and let it sweep you away, but the sound of an explosion took you back to the present.

Lady Nagant was falling again, her skin burned and bleeding, and Deku was not fast enough to catch her.

But you saw him before he leaped for her, and your heart jumped right along with him.

Hawks caught her, his tiny wings buckling under the weight of two bodies, and then they were both falling.

"Hawks!"

You ran, desperate to reach him, to wrap yourself around him before he could hit the ground. Deku threw Blackwhip towards them, slowing their fall. It was too much for him, dragging him down towards the ground, too, while he screamed in effort. It would be enough to save them. It had to be.

Hawks hit the ground running, still cradling a broken and bleeding Lady Nagant in his arms as he came to a stop.

For some very strange and inexplicable reason, you disliked the gentle way he held her. It was a ridiculous thing to feel jealous over—she was crispy and bleeding. But you craved to be held that way. It had been far too long since you felt a touch like that.

You approached them, limping, as Hawks' gaze found you. Something like relief softened the hardened edges of his expression, but then he was looking at her again, listening to the soft words she spoke as Deku watched.

"How can you still be so full of hope?"

Hawks frowned as he looked down at her, contemplative. Rain dripped down his golden skin in rivulets, and he'd scarcely looked as beautiful to you before as he did right then. He was light and hope and all the things you wished for and wanted to be.

And he was looking at you again.

Hawks' frown curved into a smile as if, for some reason, you were what he sought when he thought of hope.

"Well," he said, grinning, as he shifted his gaze to Lady Nagant once more. "I'm an optimist."

Chapter Text

You were covered in blood. A lot of it.

The exact steps to how you got there seemed to have slipped your mind, but you didn't particularly care. All you could think about was how fucking tired you were. Unfortunately, closing your eyes was far from pleasant.

And how had the universe chosen to torture you?

Oh, with him of course.

With his cold, blue eyes and no flicker of the inferno you once warmed yourself in; with the absence of a smirk you loathed to adore. How it burned you to know that you were at fault for the hate and malice that twisted his expression.

And he would press one of your knives between your ribs. It never mattered when you begged for him to stop. And though futile, you'd tell him you were sorry for everything—for every lie and manipulation. Still, when the knife would slide between your ribs, you were always surprised. And every time, it hurt just as much as the last when it pierced your broken little heart.

You'd cry out.

Then, you'd wake up, coated in sweat with a heart that wouldn't stop hammering.

Every time you dared to sleep, it was another version of the same thing. All the emotions you shoved down and buried during your waking hours came back to haunt you in your unconscious ones. It was punishment—and a rather exhausting one.

A day passed following the fight with Lady Nagant—or at least you thought it did. You hadn't seen Deku since he'd left with All Might, though you had no doubt he'd return soon. Hawks had tried to get you to go to the hospital along with Lady Nagant, but you'd refused, terrified that stopping would mean you would crumble.

But now, despite how fast you were moving, you still felt like you were breaking.

It was the symptoms of a sleep-deprived mind, you knew that. But rest was not something that came easy to you these days. That time, when you woke so abruptly, you wrapped Hawks' jacket around yourself and breathed in the lingering scent of vanilla and musk. Then, you started moving again.

And now you were covered in blood.

It coated your hands and dripped from the tips of your knives. When you breathed in, your lungs filled with the metallic scent of iron. There were bodies around you—four of them—limp and lifeless and very, very dead.

You remembered stumbling into the wrong alleyway.

You remembered being cornered by some gangsters.

You remembered hurling a few insults their way.

You remembered being restrained.

You remembered letting them punch you, the sharp corner of a ring scraping your cheekbone.

And then you remembered killing them all.

It was raining again, but no amount of it could wash the blood from your skin and hands. You stumbled forward, stepping over a pair of legs twisted at an odd angle. God, you were tired. You were so fucking tired you could have curled up right there between those bodies on a bed of blood you'd spilled. It was physical exhaustion—yes. But more than that, it was mental.

Every thought you had was punishing and you couldn't, couldn't, couldn't stop. You needed to find him. You needed to free yourself before you drowned in it.

You looked down at your hands.

The sleeves of Hawks' jacket were soaked in crimson.

No, no, no.

You bent down, trying to rinse it away in a puddle of water but there was so much of it. Tears pricked your eyes. The once-white fur line was a deep, vicious red and when you breathed in, you could barely catch the scent of him. All you could smell was blood and rain.

You dragged yourself to your feet once again, a stab of pain shooting up your left leg. The bullet wound from yesterday's antics was far from healed and you definitely needed to change the bandage you'd wrapped around it. But you were so tired.

Tired of fighting and bleeding and killing.

Tired of being so fucking isolated and alone.

You wanted to cry, but you didn't have the energy for it. You could only move forward.

On and on and on.

Your mind slipped from you, shielding you in numbness as you kept moving. There was so much blood on your hands. You felt dirty. You needed to get it off. You needed to breathe.

Your index finger tapped on a pane of glass, leaving a line of red as you pulled it away. A light clicked on. Footsteps sounded somewhere inside. The balcony door opened.

"Dove?"

You shouldn't have come here. You were supposed to be staying away from Hawks not seeking him out. You didn't want him to see you like this.

But yet, your words betrayed you—soft and broken as they were.

"Does that invitation still stand?"

Hawks was crouched before you in an instant, shrouded in shadow. You didn't look at him. You couldn't. What did you look like wrapped in his bloodstained jacket and slumped against his balcony doors? Did he pity you? Did he see the monster inside you? Or did he just see a broken bird?

His hand reached out to grasp yours, tugging it into the glow of the open door. "Where is this blood from? Where are you hurt?"

He's touching me.

That revelation alone almost made you miss the frantic edge of concern in his voice. His fingers were warm against yours. You dragged your eyes to where you were connected. The blood on your hand rubbed off onto his.

"It's not all mine." You tried to smile, but the expression didn't quite sit. "Honestly, I'm not sure if any of it is."

Hawks reached for you again, resting his fingers on the side of your face as his thumb gently swiped over the cut on your cheekbone. It stung, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of his touch on your cold, stained skin. "Look at me, dove."

And you did.

His golden eyes caught you—held you. They looked darker in the absence of light, but they were soft as they studied you. His wavy hair was unruly in a way that suggested he might have been lying down before you arrived. The glow of light from inside caught on the ruby earrings he wore, making them shimmer. You could see them easier now that his hair was shorter. You liked it that way.

Your gaze traveled from the tip of the scar on his cheek, down to his jaw and along his throat where it—

You almost squeaked.

Heat flushed from your neck to the tips of your ears, burning hotter with every second.

Hawks wasn't wearing a shirt. In fact, he was wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. Had he just pulled them on before he came to the door? What time was it?

"I—I'm sorry," you stuttered, face burning. "It's late and I'm—shit, I should—"

"Dove." The grin that curved his lips was deliciously indecent. He liked the way you were affected by him. "Come inside."

You shook your head, avoiding looking at any particular part of him. "I—I can't—"

"Come inside willingly," Hawks said slowly, "or I'll pick you up and carry you in."

Given the amused glint in his eye, you were sure he meant it. "Okay. Willingly, then."

Hawks helped you to your feet, sliding an arm around your shoulders. You didn't want to think about what parts of you were pressed against which parts of him or you might spontaneously combust. Your thigh ached as you straightened it, but with most of your weight supported, it hurt less than it would have otherwise.

It was warm inside his apartment, thawing your rain-soaked body within moments. The entire place smelled like him, though that was to be expected. It invaded your senses, enveloping you in a sense of calm you hadn't experienced in quite a while.

Hawks deposited you on a soft, beige sofa. You shifted awkwardly, not wanting to stain the pale fabric with blood or dirt. "I'll be back in a second."

It was hard not to look over your shoulder at him as he strode over to the small kitchen on the far wall of the open-plan area. The muscles in his back shifted with every slight movement and your eyes trailed from his wings to the dip in the center of his back and down to where it curved into—

Your cheeks burned hotter.

Stop it, Nyx.

There were two doors and a hallway to the right of where you were seated. The door against the front wall was the entrance. The other, slightly ajar, led to what you remembered as the study. Between them, a hallway to his bedroom, if you recalled correctly.

Hawks returned within moments with a towel, a damp cloth, and a bowl of lukewarm water. He took a seat next to you, placing the bowl on the floor by his feet. He left the towel next to you. "Do you mind if..." He gestured to your blood-coated hands which you'd folded in your lap.

"You don't have to..."

The corner of his mouth twitched up. "I know, dove, but I want to. Can I?"

Your foolish heart skipped a beat. You nodded quickly, averting your gaze from him as he gently took one of your hands and began to wash the blood from your skin.

He was meticulous in his work, leaving no trace behind as he rinsed your sins away. You couldn't help but watch him, greedily drinking in the sight of him while he focused on your hands. Beautiful seemed too common a word for him. He was both angel and devil—prayer and sin. But would he be your salvation, or would he be your destruction?

"What happened?"

The question startled you, given how intently you'd been watching him. Hawks didn't look up from your hands, but you kept your eyes on his face. Had his lashes always been so long? "It was nothing—really. I ran into a few unsavoury people by accident. They came out worse than I did."

Still, he kept washing the blood away. "That's not why you're here though, is it?"

When had he gotten so adept at reading you? Your fingers began to tremble. He squeezed them in a gesture that suggested reassurance. Why? "I... haven't been able to sleep for... a while. I keep dreaming—" You cut yourself off, pressing your eyes shut. "I'm just... tired."

Hawks nodded softly, dropping the cloth into the bowl of water that was now red. "Stay here tonight."

It didn't sound like a question. Your cheeks flushed. "What? No. I... can't."

His eyes met yours once again and the colour of them reminded you of molten metal. "If you leave, I'm coming with you. Stay—for tonight."

He said it as if it was easy—as if it wouldn't change everything all over again. Every fiber in your being was screaming at you to let go. But you couldn't—shouldn't. And yet, your words betrayed you once again. "Where would I sleep?"

Hawks' mouth lifted at the edges. "In my bed."

"And where would you sleep?"

"In my bed."

His gaze dared you not to look away. You flushed again, deeply. "Do you enjoy playing with me?"

"Yes," he answered, and his admission only made your heart drum faster. "There's plenty of room, dove. I promise I won't touch you. You can make a pillow wall between us if you'd like."

He grinned as he said that last line. It amused him, for whatever reason.

"Fine," you relented, dropping your eyes to where he was still holding one of your hands, despite being finished washing it. "I'll stay."

You didn't want to be alone. Not tonight.

"I'll get you something to wear, and then I want to look at this," Hawks said, resting his hand on your knee just below where you'd been grazed with Lady Nagant's bullet. You noticed he took every opportunity he could to touch you. Why? "It needs to be cleaned and bandaged. Is that okay?"

You nodded softly. "Can I... shower first? I'd like to wash the remaining gore from myself."

He quirked a smile. "I'll bring towels, too."

Hawks disappeared and returned within a moment with a neatly folded pile of what you assumed was one of his t-shirts and a towel. You stood as he set them down on the sofa.

"I can take the jacket."

You'd barely realised it was still wrapped around you. "Okay." You began to shrug it off but hesitated. For some reason, you didn't want to part with it. It was a ridiculous notion—and you were completely surrounded by him now, in more ways than just his lingering scent and comfort in a jacket. You removed it and handed it to him. He watched you curiously.

Hawks directed you to the bathroom and you followed silently behind him, stepped inside, and clicked the lock shut behind you. And then you inhaled a very, very deep breath.

The walls were white, but the tiles in the shower and above the sink were a dark slate grey. There was a bath in the far left corner—or more accurately—a jacuzzi. You smiled a little as you dragged your eyes from it to the four-tiered trolly of skin and hair products next to the shower. Above the sink was a large mirror that took up the majority of the wall and reflected your pitiful being.

When you were satisfied with your snooping, you began to undress.

The catsuit peeled off you more like a wet suit, and you cringed at every place where your skin was coated in sticky red. You removed your underwear and got to unwrapping the sad attempt at a bandage you'd tied around your leg. The wound was red and angry and you hissed in pain when some of the scabs caught on the stained, bloody fabric you peeled away.

Showering felt like a luxury, given how much grime coated your skin. Swirls of red and brown disappeared down the drain, and you made use of Hawks' impressive stash of products as you worked the dirt from your hair.

His touch on your hands had been so gentle. Grounding. Your heart fluttered traitorously in your chest. Why was he so kind to you?

Once finished, you slipped from the shower and dried yourself off, pulling back on your underwear and then the t-shirt Hawks supplied. The white fabric drowned you, looking more like a dress—but it was soft and warm and it smelled like him.

Your addiction to that particular scent was becoming a problem.

When you returned to Hawks, you found him standing in the kitchen, pulling bandages and anti-septic lotions from a first-aid kit on the countertop. His eyes snapped immediately to you and paused there. The full weight of his attention made you nervous, especially when his gaze moved from your face to the column of your throat and down along your body to your bare legs.

Hawks looked, for a brief second, pained.

His expression smoothed to careful neutrality. "That doesn't look like a graze."

You shrugged as he appraised the cut. "It's fine."

He chose not to argue further, gesturing to the sofa once again. You walked over and sat down, feeling suddenly aware of how little you were wearing, and how little he was also wearing. The absence of anything covering his upper body was needlessly distracting.

Hawks knelt before you—between your legs—and you flushed a deep shade of crimson.

"W—What are you doing?"

Hawks quirked a brow as he looked up at you. "What I said I was going to do."

Your cheeks burned. "Do you have to do it... like this?"

He was smirking. "Why? Nervous?"

"No," you snapped reflexively, averting your gaze as if that was enough to stop you from blushing deeper. "Continue."

Hawks did as he was commanded, but you refused to look at him again until he pressed a cotton ball of anti-septic to your wound and you hissed in pain. He apologised, smiled, and continued. His every touch was feather-light and gentle, as if you were a skittish kitten he was trying to tame. Maybe you were.

The longer he worked, the bolder you got as you watched him. His thick, broad shoulders rippled with every slight movement and you were suddenly very glad you were seated. You did not have many weaknesses, but those were surely one of them. If you were admitting anything to yourself—and only if—it would be that you had an overwhelming urge to sink your teeth into the thick round of muscle you were greedily eyeing.

Control yourself, Nyx.

But you couldn't, and you didn't particularly want to as your gaze explored lower; to the large—very squeezable—pectorals that stretched across his chest; to the hard ridges of his abs you could drag your nails over, and down to the defined sloping lines that disappeared beyond the waistband of his sweatpants.

Not angelic.

No, every hard edge of him was a temptation to sin—and you were the worst sinner of them all.

How could you resist drinking in the sight of him, knelt before you like he was praying at your altar? You were so close. It would be terribly easy to reach out and drag your fingers through his golden waves. Just to see—for a little, tiny, minuscule second—if they were as soft as they looked.

"Almost done," Hawks said, his voice ripping you from your salacious thoughts. "I just need to wrap it now."

Breathe.

It's not that hard.

In. Out. In. Out.

Hawks began wrapping the bandage around your thigh in careful, slow movements. He was so focused on it, while you were so focused on him. As he was fastening it in place, his feather-light fingers brushed against your inner thigh and you shivered.

You shivered.

His hands stilled.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck.

Your entire body tensed.

He was looking at you. He was looking at you, and your face was burning so hot you thought your skin might permanently change colour.

And then he was smirking.

You wanted nothing more than to grab one of the pillows behind you and smother him with it.

"Keep making that face and I'll cut your fingers off."

He blinked innocently. "What face?"

That smirk. That cocky, arrogant, infuriating smirk. It didn't leave him. If anything, it only grew more indecent as the seconds passed. His hand was on your thigh. His hand was on your thigh. If he so much as swept his fingers...

"That one," you grit out.

Hawks grinned and withdrew his hand, picking up another cotton ball to dip in anti-septic. You inhaled a deep, calming breath and willed your frantic heart to slow. It didn't.

"Stay still," Hawks said as he stood up to lean closer, one hand moving to rest over your collarbone and shoulder so he could brace himself as his other gently swiped the cotton ball over the cut on your cheek.

The scent of him wrapped around you, and if he wasn't holding you in place, you might have leaned into him.

"How do you feel now, dove?"

He drew back a little to look at you, and your breath caught in your throat when you realised how close his face was to yours. His hand moved from your shoulder to brace himself on the back of the sofa instead and you hated the loss of contact. When was the last time someone had taken care of you this way? You couldn't remember—not that you would have let them, anyway.

Did you deserve this kindness?

The answer was most likely no, but he'd given it to you anyway.

You couldn't stop yourself from reaching for him.

You threw your arms around him, drawing him in, wanting to be—no, needing to be—wrapped in him.

Hawks stilled for a second, and you almost lost your nerve, but then his free arm snaked around you, pressing you tight to him as his face buried between your neck and shoulder and he inhaled a breath so deep he could have been deprived of oxygen—or of you.

"Thank you, Keigo."

You mumbled the words against his skin, refusing to relinquish your hold for just a moment longer. He squeezed you tighter as if he, too, couldn't imagine letting you go.

And then he was lifting you, your arms still looped around his neck and your face pressed against his bare skin. He was warm and hard and gentle and you wanted him to be yours. One arm supported your back while the other captured your knees, and then he was walking somewhere.

"Where...?"

"You need to rest, dove." Hawks' words brushed against your ear, soft and lovely. "I'll keep you safe."

Safe. It seemed like such a foreign concept to you. When had you ever felt safe? With him, it seemed easy. You didn't want to let go of it—of him. You were starving for every affectionate touch and gentle word he offered.

You were a succubus—draining and stealing and you didn't deserve any of it. But you couldn't let go. You were far too selfish.

Hawks laid you down on sheets so soft, they could have been made of clouds. "I'll sleep on the sofa. Rest, dove."

And then he was pulling away.

And you desperately wanted him to stay.

You reached out and grasped his arm. He paused, golden eyes infinitely bright despite how dark it was in his bedroom.

"Don't go."

You cursed yourself the moment the words left your lips. It wasn't fair on him. You weren't fair. He should hate you, and rightfully so. You should know better than to burden him with your dark, broken little heart.

But then he was lying down beside you, pulling you into his arms. Your head came to rest between his shoulder and chest.

And your eyes started to close.

And he was drawing gentle circles on the thigh you'd snaked over him.

And you were falling, so fast and hard you didn't know if you'd be able to stop yourself before you hit the ground.

And then, when early morning came, you did as all selfish people do.

You left.

You didn't leave a note, though you contemplated it.

And when the cold morning air hit your skin, you realised not a single nightmare had come to haunt you.

Chapter Text

An abandoned mansion in Haibori woods was the only whisper of the League you'd gotten in weeks, but looking at it now, you doubted he would be inside.

The house was a shell devoid of any kind of light or life, and it was far too quiet for your liking.

It was a trap, but you had every intention of walking into it.

Unfortunately, this very valuable piece of information brought with it a team of pro-heroes with the same intention as you. And lest you forget, that also included Hawks.

Hawks, whom you hadn't seen in the few days that passed since you snuck from his bed before the sun rose. His scent lingered on your skin for hours after and the memory of it for longer still. It was wrong of you to seek comfort in him after everything. It was so very wrong and yet it felt so undeniably right.

Tires screeched on the gravel road and a car pulled to a stop close to where you were leaning against a dark-wood tree as you watched the silent mansion. Endeavor was the first to step out, followed by Best Jeanist, Deku, and of course, Hawks.

His golden eyes caught you—flighty bird as you were—and you were beginning to understand why he was named after a hawk. His gaze held an almost predatory edge as he stalked for you, each step quickening the pace of your heart. Gone was the tenderness from when he'd held you. Now, the full brutal weight of his attention was your punishment.

"Dove."

You straightened against the tree. "Hawks."

His hard, unreadable eyes swept over you but lingered in the places he'd so carefully bandaged. He was still worried about you.

When he didn't immediately reply, you filled the painful stretch of silence. "Is this all that is coming?"

He shook his head. "There's more, they'll be here soon."

Hawks was still watching you intently, now only a step away. It was hard to look at him and not remember the image of him knelt before you, or feel the whisper of warmth against your skin where he'd crushed you to him. Did he recall how you shivered beneath a mere brush of his fingers the same way you recalled the flicker of desire in his eyes?

If he did, you wouldn't know.

But you—

You couldn't hide the stain of heat on your cheeks as the memory swept through you. By the way Hawks' mouth lifted at the edge, he hadn't missed it. He took another step, closing the gap between you and forcing you to press yourself against the tree behind you in hopes you could vanish into it. You couldn't, of course.

"You know," Hawks said slowly, bracing one hand on the tree while his face hovered ever closer to yours. "I'm not used to being toyed with."

He leaned in further, his lips brushing torturously against the shell of your ear. "I don't like it."

It took everything you had not to run away—or lean closer. He smelled like a sinful addiction. "Are you going to do this here? In front of them?"

Hawks shrugged, his mouth curving into a grin. "I can't help it, the way you blush like that is so adorable."

You glared at him, heat still flushing your skin. "Is this supposed to be payback?"

He quirked a brow, moving back slightly so he could look at you again. "For what exactly?"

"For my..." you said with a pause, chewing on your lip, "early departure the other morning."

"You said it, not me." Hawks' eyes drifted to your lips for a heartbeat, but they were gone before a blink. "You agreed to stay, little dove. I felt somewhat cheated."

Breathe, Nyx.

But the air belonged to him and every breath intoxicated you further.

"I shouldn't have stayed at all."

Something like hurt flickered in his golden eyes, but it was gone so fast you could have imagined it. "You're still running, Nyx. Maybe it's for the right reasons, or maybe it's not, but it's still away from this."

Your breath stilled as Hawks placed his free hand over your heart. Could he feel how quickly it beat?

"Hawks—"

You had so much you wanted to say, but the words caught in your throat. How could you tell him that the guilt of what happened to him had been eating away at your soul for weeks and the only salve the universe offered you were his arms and you didn't deserve them.

And you were scared.

You were always fucking scared.

When words failed you, Hawks stepped away. The absence of him was like a fresh wound and you almost reached for him just to stop yourself from bleeding.

Hawks had turned away, but his words were for you.

"It was a gift, you know. Even if it didn't last until morning."

He walked back to Deku, who had been watching your exchange with curiosity, and all you could do was stand there. Why was your heart beating so furiously? Why couldn't you rid yourself of the ache in your chest when you looked at him?

It was a gift, every second of it.

And no matter how you wished to ignore it, it was beginning to feel like Hawks had stolen the shards of your shattered heart.

But how many cuts would he earn trying to put them back together? It didn't matter how much you wanted it; the poison would kill him long before you had a heart to offer.

The second car to arrive brought with it the top heroes you recognised as Edgeshot, Mt Lady, and Kamui Woods. Your presence hadn't gone unnoticed, given the apprehensive looks you got from each of them, but no one deigned to ask any questions and you didn't particularly care to answer them.

Still, you found yourself sliding closer to Hawks as if he could shield you from it all. You had worn many faces during your life, but it was the first time you were wearing your own around anyone but a select few. It was... uncomfortable.

"You're staying out here?" you asked Hawks after he'd finished briefing everyone on the plan.

He nodded. "I'll watch your back, dove."

You smiled slightly as your gaze drifted to Deku, who was staring intensely at the mansion. The more seconds passed, the more antsy he got. His drive to find the League was as poisonous as yours, and you couldn't help but worry for him. He was too young to be feeling all of this.

"And I'll watch his."

Inside, the mansion was just as desolate as it looked from the outside. Whatever furniture remained was chipped and dirty. You scanned the room for any sign of life, only to come up empty.

And then a hologram appeared of All For One.

Deku's growing anger was palpable as the image spoke, and you wanted to reach for him but your attention took you elsewhere.

There, at the back of the room, on a small coffee table before a dusty old sofa sat an empty tumbler and a half-drunk bottle of brandy.

Without thinking, you took a few steps toward it but stopped yourself.

Part of you wondered if you traced your finger along the lip of that glass, would he appear? Would he pour himself a drink, knock it back, and curse you with a hateful glare?

And what would you do?

Dabi wasn't even there and you were frozen.

All you had was his ghost and an empty glass left behind to taunt you. So torturously close, yet so very far from him. Was the mere whisper of him part of your punishment? Had he left it there to remind you of the scars you both now wore?

"Move!"

The command barely had the time to register when a tether of Blackwhip circled your middle and you were tugged harshly from the mansion as the scene erupted in flame and heat.

Well, I was right about it being a trap.

Deku deposited you unceremoniously on the grass a hundred paces from the blazing building. You knelt in the dirt, attempting to catch your breath as Hawks appeared, crouching down before you.

"Are you hurt?" Hawks asked, scanning you for any sign of injury.

You shook your head. "Just my... pride." You paused, heaving another breath. "I wasn't—I wasn't paying enough attention."

Hawks offered you a hand up and you accepted, letting him tug you to your feet.

You were in the process of brushing the dirt from your knees when Endeavor thundered over, his signature flames burning bright over his face and body.

"What was it you saw?" Endeavor asked—or commanded.

You pursed your lips, feeling petty enough to withhold the information, but it also wasn't worth the energy. "The glass—and the brandy. I know he was there, that's all."

Endeavor only nodded, surprisingly sullen after such insignificant knowledge. But then again, it had been enough to freeze you where you stood.

And now you were thinking of his name again. It was playing in your mind like some kind of cursed melody and you hated it. If you could think about him, you couldn't stop yourself from feeling, and feeling guilty was unbelievably exhausting. You needed Dabi to stay a ghost until he wasn't any longer.

And, of course, Hawks was watching you with those perfectly unreadable eyes and you hated that, too.

"We have a meeting place not far, will you come?" he asked at last.

"You can go now, Hawks," Endeavor said, snapping out of his thoughts. "We should secure the perimeter first. We'll meet you there with the others."

Hawks nodded, turning to you. "Will you come?"

"Yes," you replied. "Where's Deku? We should—" You cut yourself off as you caught sight of the young hero leaping toward the sky and his obvious crusade against evil. "Ah." You turned back to Hawks. "I guess it's just us then."

He didn't bother trying to hide the slight smirk that curved his lips. "Let's go, dove."

***

Hawks was driving and you were seated—silently—in the passenger seat.

It was rather irritating that your thoughts were still consumed by the sight of an empty glass, but it was the closest you'd gotten to Dabi in weeks. You would find him eventually, that was for certain, but today made it all so real in a different way.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You glanced sidelong at Hawks. "And what might that be exactly?"

"Dabi," he replied. "We never talked about what happened that day."

You suddenly found your nails to be quite fascinating as you began to pick at them. "What day was that again?"

"Dove."

He was frustrated with you, that much was evident given how his term of endearment for you was lacking the endearment part.

"Fine," you sighed. "I was hoping to skirt the issue for as long as humanly possible, but then again, you do seem to find joy in extracting my truths, don't you?"

That made him smile. "Vicious."

You blinked innocently. "I thought wicked was your favourite word for me."

"It is," Hawks clarified, still smiling softly as he steered around a corner. "But one word isn't enough to encapsulate all of you, is it, dove?"

"Very true," you replied, amused. "My enigmatic personality couldn't possibly be reduced to a single word. Do you have any more words for me?"

Hawks' grin slid to a smirk. "You're changing the subject."

You gasped, feigning offence. "I am doing no such thing." The car slowed to a stop, and you grinned in triumph. "Oh look! We're here."

"And we're still alone for now," Hawks added. "You're not getting away that easily."

You pouted as he opened the car door and stepped outside. "Must I divulge all of my secrets? Remaining an enigma seems far more enjoyable."

Hawks shook his head as he rounded the car and opened the passenger door for you. He leaned in close. "You want me to know you, dove. Just as you want to know me—and I can promise the world won't end if you do."

You glared at him as you stepped out of the car, ducking around his hovering face. "If I want to know you, all I have to do is look up your Wikipedia page."

Hawks exhaled a laugh as he straightened. "That's not true and you know it."

You took a step back, appraising him coolly as he watched on. "I don't know. I'm sure it'll tell me enough."

He placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt, his golden eyes alight with amusement. "Insult me all you want, dove. At the end of the day, you're still here."

You raised a brow. "I can vanish pretty easily right now."

Hawks smirked, his gaze inescapable. "But you'll keep coming back, won't you?"

You bit your tongue to stifle the offending words before they left your lips, tilted your chin high, and strode right toward the doors of what you assumed was a large warehouse.

How dare he—

Be right? Because he was correct, wasn't he? Every single time, you would return to him because your feelings for him were inescapable. Until you dealt with the storm inside you, it was easier to keep them walled away. Yet, they were still there, waiting below the surface to carry you on feathered wings into the sky on the day you finally stopped being afraid to fall.

My feelings for him?

Because you did feel for him, didn't you?

How could you not?

The warehouse was filled with large wooden boxes of varying sizes and shapes. You perched yourself on the top of one of them, legs dangling over the edge as you patted the space next to you for Hawks.

He grinned as he climbed up, muscles flexing beneath his jacket. You tried to avert your gaze but failed miserably. It was harder now that you knew exactly what was beneath. And it didn't help that every little grin he gave you reminded you of how he'd knelt between your legs and smirked up at you. It made you imagine a little too much.

Once he was comfortably seated, you spoke, "So, which part of my shame do you want first?"

Hawks frowned. "I won't force you to talk about it. I just—"

"No," you interrupted. "It's okay. I'm just... not very good at being open like this. I want to try."

Hawks nodded silently as you took a moment to inhale a very deep breath.

"I try not to think about that day because the guilt—it tears me apart. I hate myself for what happened to you. It was my fault I couldn't stop him before he hurt you. I was too weak to do it. And Twice... it's all just too much."

"It's not your fault."

"But it is," you argued. "I got in too deep. I fucked up. I failed."

"Dove." Hawks laid his hand on yours. His touch was warm, but you felt so very cold. "I don't blame you for what happened. I knew what I was doing when I went there. I knew I might not come back out."

You looked at him, finally. "But I could have—"

"Your job was to infiltrate and gather information. Eliminating Dabi was not a top priority."

Tears began to line your eyes, but you blinked them back. "He became my priority. He is my failure. You don't understand, this role—this weapon—is all that I have ever been. If I couldn't do my job and kill him, what did I have left? And then I failed, and my consequence was you. I need to make it right. I can't—I can't..."

"I understand better than most." His hand was still on yours, solid and real. "Twice... was a good man. All he wanted to do was protect those he loved. He didn't—He didn't deserve to die for it."

You turned your hand in his, weaving your fingers together. "I guess we're both monsters."

Hawks squeezed your palm. "You have no idea how bright you are, dove."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"Regardless of whether you blame me or not, I'm sorry. For all of it. I wanted to free you of me at that hospital, but I guess I couldn't stay away."

"I didn't want to let you go, I was just..."

Hawks trailed off, tilting his head back as an almost pained kind of amusement stole across his face.

"I'm going to have to say it, aren't I?"

The question seemed rhetorical, but your heart was suddenly pounding and you were greedy for every word as you whispered, "What?"

He closed his eyes briefly. "Jealous."

When he opened them again, he met your gaze and held it. And then he was looking at you like every bit of that torture was worth it.

"You were jealous?"

Hawks' mouth curved into one of those delicious smirks. "I knew I was competing for your affections but the idea of losing wasn't something I'd encountered before."

You exhaled a laugh. "Your ego really is spectacular."

"I meant everything I said that day," Hawks continued, never breaking away. "I meant it when I kissed you."

To touch him would be selfish, but your hammering heart begged you for the indulgence. Every bit of him was beautiful; from the darkness in his eyes to the sharp slant of his jaw and that sinful mouth that would damn you for eternity.

The words were so soft they were almost silent.

"So did I."

And then he was reaching out to slide his hand across your jaw and you were leaning into the touch as if you were starving for it.

Hawks tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, parting it, tracing the soft ridges as if committing them to memory.

And then he leaned in.

And he was going to kiss you and you were going to let him.

But the door to the warehouse swung open with a groan, followed swiftly by the chatter of pro-heroes.

Hawks let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh, reluctantly letting go of you. "Stay for the meeting, dove."

"I shouldn't, I'm not—"

"You are," Hawks interjected, still hovering a breath away from kissing you. As if he still could. "You don't have to stay in the dark forever."

It was then you decided; if it let you steal just another moment of him, you would.

Chapter Text

Deku was spiralling.

You knew what that looked like better than anyone.

His positive disposition had vanished following All For One's message. Hope was fraying at the edges and not even All Might could get him to slow down. You, who had come to think of the young hero as a partner, only caught glimpses of him as he leaped from one place to the next, following Danger Sense with a blatant disregard for his wellbeing.

It was almost like you were looking in a mirror.

But only I'm allowed to be so jaded.

You'd basically said as much when you caught him last. "Wilful self-destruction is my thing, not yours."

Deku had only stared through you, those piercing green eyes aglow through the darkness of his mask. It was truly an unnerving sight.

And then he'd shot into the air and left you behind in a plume of his dust.

So, in an obvious effort to solve everyone else's problems except for your own, you sought to enlist the help of someone better suited for optimistic pep talks. And it certainly had absolutely nothing to do with the fact you wanted to see him.

You found Hawks outside his agency building, hands dug into the pockets of his jacket as he spoke casually with Best Jeanist.

Both of them abruptly stopped talking when you dropped down from a streetlight into the midst of their conversation.

"Hi."

And for some very odd reason, you were at a loss for words.

"Hey," Hawks replied, his gaze sweeping over you the way it always seemed to this past while.

He was tired—that much was evident given the darkened skin beneath his eyes and the slight pallor to his golden skin. And then there was the shallow cut that scraped over the left side of his jaw. It was clear he'd been fighting, despite still not having enough feathers to fly.

"I need your help."

Hawks' mouth curved, and despite the fatigue, he was still as dashing as ever. "Interesting way of saying you missed me."

You rolled your eyes at the teasing comment, though the tips of your ears still burned. Best Jeanist regarded you with a look that bordered on disdain and you fought the urge to glare at him, instead choosing to ignore his presence altogether. His approval was not something you wanted nor needed, and you couldn't exactly blame him for his wariness of you.

"We need to help Deku, he's not himself. He won't stop, won't eat, won't sleep. I'm worried about him."

"Sound familiar?" Hawks asked, amused.

"That's precisely why we don't need another one."

Hawks pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. "All Might has been trying to get him to slow down, especially now that foreign heroes are on their way." He quickly typed out a message and hit send. "But I think I know what we need to do."

"I'll leave this one to you, Hawks," Best Jeanist said, stepping away. "Update me later."

Hawks nodded, waving him off as he turned his full attention to you. "Let's go."

"Where is he?"

Hawks' fingers brushed over the arch in your back as he directed you toward the car. The touch was feather-light, but it still made your traitorous heart race.

"According to the GPS, he's on the other side of the city. All Might is already on his way."

He opened the passenger door for you and you slid inside, pulling on a seatbelt as he rounded the car and took his place behind the wheel.

"So, why did the jean-man look like he ate something sour when I showed up?"

Hawks let out a breath of amusement as he turned the ignition. "You make him uneasy."

That made you smile a little. The car rumbled to life and Hawks pulled out onto the street. "It's the knives, isn't it?"

"And that he's stumbled upon some of the scenes you've left behind," he added.

"Understandable," you replied. "And what about you? Shouldn't I make you uneasy?"

He smirked. "That's not possible, dove."

"Why?" You pouted. "Does my murderous aura not work on you?"

"It works," Hawks said, his smirk growing. "Just not in the way you're thinking."

When you didn't immediately reply, he continued, "But that's not what you really want, is it?"

You leaned your head back against the headrest, watching him from the corner of your eye. "And what is it I want?"

"I'll tell you," Hawks started, amused. "If you admit you missed me, and that's really why you showed up today."

You almost snorted. "If you're looking to have your ego stroked by me, I'm delighted to inform you that you'll be very disappointed. Are your fans not giving you enough attention these days?"

"Your attention is all that matters to me."

He was teasing you, yet it still made you blush.

"You're flirting with me."

The smirk didn't leave him, and suddenly you were thinking of all the ways you could smother it. A pillow, perhaps? With his own jacket? Or could you steal it with something softer—a kiss?

"You like it."

You did, but you'd never admit that.

"Stop flirting with me."

You didn't actually want him to.

"No."

Your heart stuttered.

"You're insufferable."

He was, but what was really insufferable was the desperate urge you had to lace your fingers in his hair and bring that wicked mouth of his to yours.

"You're beautiful."

The car slowed to a stop. Were you at a set of traffic lights? Were they even on anymore? Had he just stopped because he wanted to look at you?

And he was looking at you.

And you couldn't help but laugh at the sheer arrogance in his charm. Somehow, it made him all the more alluring, as impossible as that was.

And now he was watching you, drinking in your laughter like it was some kind of music.

When was the last time you'd made a sound like that?

"You're not so bad-looking yourself," you said, still holding onto a smile.

Hawks grinned as he started driving again. "I'll take it."

"Or maybe I can admit you're a little attractive."

He exhaled a laugh. "Just a little?"

"Don't push it."

After a few minutes, the car slowed again and you tore your eyes away from him so you could focus on just about anything else.

"He's not far from here," Hawks said as he flicked off the ignition. "I imagine All Might and the others are here, too."

"The others?"

Hawks only nodded, unclasping his belt so he could step out. "He needs to see he's not alone in this."

Your phone buzzed as you were climbing out of the car. You plucked it from your pocket, eyes tracing over the letters once. Twice. Three times.

Your stomach twisted.

The number was unknown, but you knew exactly who it was from the two words that appeared on the screen.

Stop looking.

There he was—your ghost, your punishment, your failure. He knew you were looking for him, but then again, you'd told him you'd do as much.

If you rang, would he pick up?

Unlikely, and you weren't sure if you were able to hear his voice just yet. Even though you'd spent weeks hunting him, you hadn't considered the fact that you might not be ready.

Were you strong enough?

Could you see that hate again and not burn up in it?

Stop looking.

Anger flared in you. Dabi knew you wouldn't stop, so why bother sending that message? Like Icarus to the sun, you were destined for his fire. Just as he was destined for the edge of your blade. You wanted to curse him. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and that he couldn't stop you. That you were his curse the same way he was yours. But you didn't, and you settled on a simple word.

No.

You stared at the screen for several seconds, waiting for a reply that wouldn't come.

You needed to finish this for good.

You were close—so very close.

"Did you enjoy your game, Nyx?"

When you blinked, there he was, desperately wounded and so very cruel, your knife pressing over his heart.

"Did you want to carve it out and keep it as a trophy?"

It flooded you all at once, breaking you apart at the seams.

"Keep fighting with me, princess."

Your heart was in tatters and you were so fucking scared of feeling that pain.

"Because I hate you."

The poisoned words cut like a knife through your chest and then you suddenly felt nothing at all. It was there and then it just... wasn't.

"Dove."

You blinked, realising you were still staring at that cursed screen and Hawks was watching you, brows furrowed in what looked like concern. You smoothed your expression and offered him a smile that was just a little too sweet.

"Yes?"

"What is it?" He asked, his gaze following where you shoved your phone away.

"Nothing," you replied, but your voice wavered. "Nothing at all."

The lie burned.

***

You watched Deku fall into the waiting arms of Katsuki Bakugo.

It warmed your soul. He—and the rest of class 1A—were a flicker of light in a world that was otherwise growing dark.

Deku fought each and every one of them, refusing to stop until he physically couldn't continue any longer. When he finally did, they were ready to catch him.

Was it wrong to feel a little jealous you never had the same? How different would your life be if you weren't always so painfully disconnected from those around you?

But then again, you'd grown comfortable inside your little box. It kept you alive—and it kept everything else outside.

"They'll take him back to the safe zone at UA," Hawks explained.

He was quiet while you both watched Deku's fight, though occasionally you caught him glancing over at you in a way that suggested he was trying to figure something out. You wondered if he had.

"We should go, too," Hawks continued. "I'm sure All Might will have a few things to say. I can... show you around?"

You shook your head softly. "I'll leave this to you." You paused. "Just... make sure Deku is okay."

"And where will you go?"

Hawks was studying you in that irritatingly intense way he did sometimes, and you were attempting to keep your eyes focused on the scene before you to avoid any part of you cracking beneath the weight of it.

Stop looking.

"I have a lead on the League," you replied, apathetic. "I'll see where it takes me."

You turned on your heel to leave. The sky was darkening, Deku was safe and you needed to keep moving before you started thinking too much. But you didn't get to take more than two steps as a warm hand wrapped around your wrist, halting you.

"What happened, dove?"

You stared down at where his skin touched yours. "Nothing," you lied again.

He let go of your wrist to drag a hand through his golden waves in pure frustration. "Earlier, you were—" He cut himself off, exhaling slowly. "What changed? Why are you running away again?"

Your eyes snapped to his, annoyance replacing the apathy of before. "I'm doing exactly what I said I would do, why is that surprising to you?"

"Because you just watched what happened out there." Hawks flung an arm toward where Deku was. "You saw what this was doing to him. I thought it would be enough to make you stop, too. I thought—"

"You thought wrong."

A heavy silence fell over both of you. Hawks searched your face, his eyes flicking back and forth as if waiting for an indication of anything that clearly wouldn't come. He took a step closer instead.

"Tell me what it is, dove." His voice grew softer. "Tell me and I'll make it go away. I'll hunt them down for you if that's what you need."

Hawks' fingers twitched at his side while your chest burned with some emotion you'd rather not feel. He couldn't touch you. If he did you would surely concede and you were this close to losing your grip on yourself. Even his devotion could not withstand you falling to pieces.

So, you did what came most naturally to you and pushed him away.

"I'm not some damsel that needs a hero to save her, Hawks. I've been doing this for a long time." The harsh retort of it burned like acid. "I'm not weak."

It was hard to ignore the way he flinched at your tone. "I'm not saying you're weak."

"But you're looking at me like I am—like I could fall apart at any fucking moment."

You hated it—the longing and the hurt.

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

And you hated that most of all.

Your lips twisted into a cruel, hollow smirk. "I don't want you to save me." He flinched again, and somewhere in your chest you felt it cut you. "I destroy everything that I touch. Last time I checked, that included you."

His jaw ticked. "I told you I don't blame you—"

"But you should," you interjected, hurling the words at him. "I hesitated, Keigo. I fucking hesitated because I had feelings for a villain and you lost your wings for it. How can you look at me and tell me that it wasn't my fault? I could have killed him and I didn't. I have to make it right."

There it was.

The words you were too afraid to say.

The admission of a truth both of you refused to acknowledge.

Hawks did not speak for a moment and the words hung between you. He was looking at you, though it felt more like he was looking through you.

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

His gaze sharpened.

He was angry.

Had you ever seen Hawks like that? Did you finally break through that seemingly impenetrable mask of cool composure that could only belong to the Commission's deadly hero?

You watched him war with himself, and then you watched him snap.

"Stop pretending like you're doing this for anyone but yourself." He was wholly focused on you now, his gaze sharp enough to cut. When he advanced a step, you didn't dare concede any ground. "Continue if you need to, but don't use me as an excuse. I never hated you, not for one single second."

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are." His eyes were wild and his every word was a brush of heat against your skin. "You're terrified of looking in the mirror and seeing what's reflected back. You're hiding behind some righteous excuse for hunting him down, but the truth is you're doing it for yourself—because you think that's going to be enough to undo everything."

This time, it was you who flinched.

"But let me tell you, dove." Hawks closed the remaining gap between you—close enough that you could feel the heat rolling off him. "I am looking at you, and I am still standing here."

You paused as his words sunk in, feeling the heat rise in your veins with every wound he opened. And then you leaned in, your mouth a cruel slant that hovered just an inch from his.

As if you would kiss him.

Maybe the thought crossed your mind, but instead you whispered, "Fuck you."

The smirk Hawks gave you was dangerous. "Why do you keep punishing yourself for feeling? Is it because they can't anymore?"

Your temper flared. They. The Commission. Hawks surely had no intention of pulling his punches and if you didn't want to stab him for it, you might have admired it.

"Do you enjoy dissecting me?" you seethed. "Am I a fun little project for you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I know that darkness inside of you because it has lived in me long enough. When are you going to see that?"

When you didn't reply, Hawks reached for you.

You thought of stopping him, but he moved in a way that was so smooth and assured and demanding of your compliance.

You thought of threatening him with one of your knives, but the edge of darkness in his eyes told you all it would earn you was another dangerous smile as he brushed it aside.

So, when Hawks slid his fingers along your jaw and tilted your chin so you were forced to look into those sharp, beautiful eyes, you couldn't find it within you to stop him.

You were acutely aware of how close he was to you—and how your breaths quickened at the realisation.

Was the heat in your stomach a product of anger or desire?

But Hawks didn't lean any closer—not even when his eyes flared with a heat you knew belonged to something wicked. He had a way of commanding your attention, but you could expect nothing less from a charismatic weapon.

"You're still lost, dove—just in a different way from before."

And then he let you go, stepping back as if the touch burned him as much as it did you.

"Maybe you're right, but I don't know what else to do."

Chapter Text

Hawks was right, though you were loathe to admit it.

You weren't doing this for him—at least not entirely.

Maybe it was because you were ashamed of yourself for falling for the enemy, and the guilt of it was eating you up inside. Or maybe you thought that simply killing him could erase everything—and like all others, he would become specks of blood beneath your nails that you would forget about when your head hit a pillow.

You could barely remember a single face from those you killed.

Even the very first of your kills had drifted from your memory until all that was left was a vague outline without any discerning detail.

In your selfish mind, you thought that killing Dabi would reduce him to but a number on your tally. That—with him—all of your guilt and pain and... everything else would just cease to exist. You would be free of the wounds still festering inside you.

And you wouldn't fall apart.

It was what they taught you. Whether it be your adversary or pointless human emotion that had no place in your world, the answer was always to destroy.

Maybe Hawks was right about that, too.

Maybe part of your drive to find Dabi—and part of the reason you kept running from Hawks—was because you were punishing yourself in place of your superiors for your failures.

If you were being completely honest, you might admit that it was self-sabotage, because how could Hawks still want you after everything? And if you let yourself need him, it would just be another example of how you've failed.

Your chest ached like a fresh wound and you pressed a palm over your heart as if that could staunch the bleeding.

No more of that, you thought. This isn't the venue for self-reflection.

And truly, it wasn't.

The house was torn to pieces. Bits of broken furniture and remnants of a life scattered the floor. The ceiling and walls were torn and broken enough that you could see completely through from one room to the next. But it was the slurs and insults sprayed over the walls in shades of black and red that captured most of your attention.

You squeezed the handles of your knives a little tighter.

Toga's family home was a shell where not even the ghost of happiness would dare to linger.

You knew her deeply enough to not blame her for what she became. She was too different to fit in amongst the smothering optimism and was without a desirable quirk for heroism. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't fight her nature. But in a society without any in-between, she was forced into a mould that would never fit her until the day came when she finally snapped.

If you had been born with her quirk, you doubted you would have turned out any different.

The floorboards creaked as you passed from the living room to the hallway. To your right was an open door to a room that was completely empty, without even bones of broken furniture to make it seem like it had been lived in.

Was this her room?

You took one step to enter, the groan of the floor the only sound that carried through the unnaturally still air.

Something wasn't right.

It was then you caught the glint of a sharp and silver object slicing towards you.

You immediately twisted, sinking your blade into the barrel of the syringe. Metal bit into metal and the weapon was tugged back towards the small, shadowy figure with a single knife in her right hand.

"Toga."

There was disbelief in the way her name fell from your lips. Though you'd come here, you never expected to find her. It was a long shot for a scrap of a clue that might suggest the League was close.

And yet here she was, living and breathing and darting for you with every intention of stabbing you with that knife.

This wasn't sparring anymore.

Her anger was evident in the reckless way she threw herself at you, and you skirted her attack with a mustering of energy you didn't know you had. The fatigue of a few nights of poor sleep weighed on your muscles enough that it required intense concentration to throw yourself out of Toga's path.

You countered, but she dodged with the kind of feline grace you'd been training into her all those weeks ago.

"I don't want to fight you!"

You remained on defense, dodging and twisting as your entire body protested the movements. She was stronger than before—much stronger.

Toga launched another syringe at you. "I don't care!"

You barely managed to jump out of the way fast enough. The sharp edge of it nicked your catsuit, cutting the fabric but not your skin.

"You're the reason that Jin is dead," she screeched the words at you, flinging herself into another attack. "I thought you were my friend. I trusted you!"

The slice of her words hurt you more than any knife could.

"I'm sorry for all of it."

You retreated into the living room, leaving a gap of space between you that you hoped would stop her from attacking immediately. It was getting darker, you could use your quirk if you needed, but you weren't here to fight her.

"I deceived all of you because it was my job to do so," you said as Toga stepped slowly into the room. "But I didn't lie about everything. You were my friend, Toga. Even if I didn't deserve it."

She smiled viciously, though her eyes lined with tears. "And what about Jin? Wasn't he your friend?"

Guilt speared your heart. "I'm sorry, Toga. I'm so sorry it came to this."

Toga launched herself at you. "Heroes are supposed to save people! Was Jin not a person? Am I not a person?"

The edge of her knife slid across yours as you jumped back.

"You are the first friend I've ever had," you shouted back, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "I thought I could destroy my feelings the same way I destroy everything." You glanced down at the knives in your hands. "But I don't want to forget that I know you, even if it means I have to remember what I've done!"

Toga ceased moving, tears sliding down her cheeks despite the warped smile she wore. She was warring with herself, and for a moment, you thought it might have been enough to stop her.

But then she attacked.

"I won't forgive you!"

The knife sliced out so fast you barely had the time to react. You spun out of the way, but it wasn't quick enough to stop the pointed edge of the blade from dragging across your left arm, just above your elbow.

The cut stung, and you hissed through your teeth as you jumped back from her. You pressed your fingers to it, and when you drew them back, they were slick with crimson.

"I'm not asking you to—"

You cut yourself off as you watched Toga lift her knife, droplets of red—your blood—coating the edge. And then she brought it to her lips.

"Toga! No—"

But it was already too late.

Toga closed her mouth around the sharp end and vanished before your eyes, leaving only a puddle of school clothes and metal syringes behind.

Oh shit.

She could copy your quirk?

But it wasn't as simple as just taking blood, was it? Not that it mattered, she clearly had control of it and now every dark corner was a potential swift death.

If you didn't have to focus, you might have found humour in it.

"Toga," you said, turning slowly in a circle as your focus jumped from shadow to shadow. "You don't have to forgive me for anything. You can hate me forever, but I don't want to fight you. I know who you are. I have always a—"

Movement flashed in your peripheral vision and you flung yourself out of the way as Toga—you—sliced her knife down toward your neck.

Toga's copy of you was such a perfect match, it was jarring. She straightened a few steps from you, flashing you an entirely inhuman smile that didn't quite sit amongst your features.

Her use of your quirk was novice at best, which made it slightly easier to evade her attacks, but you couldn't stay on defense for much longer or she would find an opening.

"I loved you so much I thought about becoming you all the time," she said, her eyes wild. "I promise I'll keep all of your blood so you're with me always. I won't waste a drop."

She bent down into a fighting stance—your fighting stance.

"Toga, please—"

But she wasn't listening to you anymore.

Toga brought her knife towards you in a sweeping arc and you readied to dodge, but she vanished before your eyes. Shit. You spun around just in time to see her reappear, the knife slicing out at your exposed neck. You barely managed to step out of the way. It was too close. It was too fucking close. You drove your knee into her stomach and she buckled, catching herself before she could fall flat.

You were too tired for this.

If you were being completely honest, you were a little too tired to be existing in general. Oh, but you were on a mission to hunt him down, weren't you? And you were far too stubborn to ever give up before you succeeded.

The screech of metal attacked your ears.

Your foot kicked at something both hard and soft, sending it flying.

And now that you were thinking about it, you were so fucking tired of being you. It was your terrible choices that got you into this mess in the first place, and you couldn't even own up to them.

A fist slammed into your cheek.

Who were you?

Nyx, the assassin?

Nyx, the hero?

What did you want?

And the most comical part of it was that you had far too much heart to be just the assassin, but you were so painfully clueless about how it worked to be just the hero.

And maybe Hawks was right about that, too.

You were afraid of looking in the mirror and seeing exactly what you were.

But you were looking in a mirror now.

Every bone in your body called for you to destroy. It was second nature to you at this point. And you made so many mistakes. If you stabbed your knife right through your heart, would it stop you from feeling the guilt of it? Could you finally be just Nyx?

Your mirror self was staring back at you, utterly still beneath the weight of your body and the knife you pressed over her heart.

But you didn't want to lose that heart, did you?

You blinked.

"Toga?"

You threw your knives away, scrambling off her—your—body as it began to melt away until all that was left was the small, teenage girl beneath.

"I won't kill you," you said, breathing heavily. "I won't do it."

Toga watched you silently through feline eyes, clutching her hands over her body to cover some of her modesty. You picked up her discarded uniform and tossed it to her.

"This world failed you. It failed me, too. But I can't watch it burn. Once, I thought I could." You paused, sucking in a steadying breath. "You are not broken or wrong—you are just a girl. Even if you think it was all a lie, I'm glad I got to call you my friend. And for Twice—" You choked on the name. "—I'm sorry for my part in taking him away from you."

Toga pulled her jumper over her head and stood. She looked so young right then—far too young to be a victim of the world.

"You should stop looking for Touya."

The sound of his name burned a hole in your chest. "I can't."

"I know," Toga replied, almost smiling. "I'll tell him I saw you."

"Can you tell me where he is?"

She shook her head. You sighed. "Worth a try."

Toga pulled on the rest of her uniform and picked up her knife, which you'd clearly kicked aside though you had absolutely no recollection of it, and started towards the broken front door. She paused with her fingers wrapped around the handle.

"I hope we don't have to kill each other."

And then she was gone.

***

Darkness crept along with you as you walked through the alleyways of the city without a definitive answer as to where you were headed.

God, you were tired.

Toga had spent the very last of your energy and seeing her had opened a whole can of worms you were struggling to close.

Dabi was near.

He could have been watching you fight her for all you knew.

And Twice—

No matter how many times you apologised to her, it didn't make it any easier. You could still see the fear and realisation in his eyes when he begged you for help and you just stood there. Maybe you didn't deal the blow, but his death was yours, too.

"Where have you been?"

The sound of his voice startled you.

Hawks grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to turn and face him while his eyes roved over your body. "Where are you hurt?"

His fingers brushed over the wound Toga opened on your arm and you hissed. "It's just a scratch."

"Where have you been, Nyx?" There was a frantic edge to his tone. "I've been looking fucking everywhere for you. My sidekicks, too. I thought—" Hawks cut himself off, dragging a hand through his hair. "Fuck—you don't want to know what I thought."

It was then you realised that he was covered in blood.

Speckles of crimson coated his face and arms, all the way down to his fingers which were almost as stained as yours were when he'd cleaned them for you.

"What's going on, Keigo?"

"There was an attack," he said, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly. "It was suspected the League were involved. I thought—shit. I thought he—they—were coming for you. Where—"

"Toga," you interjected, reaching up to lay your hand on his forearm. "I found her in her old house."

Hawks' jaw ticked. "You could have been lured out and—" He cut himself off as if the mere thought was too much for him.

You let go of him and stepped back. He dropped his hold on you. "But I wasn't. You were right about everything you said. I didn't want to own up to who I am. I manipulated my way into their lives knowing I would damn them all and I didn't care. I used them to soothe my loneliness—and it was easy. If not for Dabi—for how it happened, I would have walked away and spared them no single thought. That is what I am capable of. That is who I am."

You were so fucking tired of hating yourself.

"Did you know that Twice made me pancakes?" you continued, a little softer. "No one ever made me pancakes before."

Hawks' gaze was as sharp as a knife as he stepped into your space and pointed a finger at himself. "I killed Twice. I did—not you. This isn't your guilt."

He leaned over you, looking like an angel that was just cast from the heavens. If only he knew you'd fall to Hell right along with him.

"And I'd do it again, even though he didn't deserve it. I'd do it again if it meant I could keep those I care about safe. I will do horrible things for what I believe in, just like you will."

Hawks dropped his gaze to your lips and lingered there.

"I would do the worst things for you, dove."

And then, without even the slightest warning, he turned on his heel and strode away from you, disappearing into the night.

Chapter Text

Hawks wasn't at his apartment.

And you knew that because you were currently at his apartment. Well, outside it.

And why were you there?

Well, the answer to that was rather complicated, but it had a little something to do with the fact that he walked away from you.

He walked away from you.

It seemed Hawks also possessed a flair for the dramatics—or he was taking a leaf out of your book. Given his irritatingly alluring arrogance, you'd chance it was a bit of both.

He walked away from you—and he looked damn good doing it.

"I would do the worst things for you, dove."

The flicker of darkness and desire in his eyes as he said those words had almost brought you to your knees. And now you couldn't stop thinking of them. You couldn't stop thinking of how his mouth moved; of the sinful curve of those wicked lips and how they promised beautiful destruction.

It wasn't fair.

It made your skin flush and your heart race and that was utter torture.

You wanted him.

As surely as you couldn't deny your own nature, you wanted him.

The two were inextricably combined. Maybe wanting him was part of you. Maybe this was the one thing you didn't feel torn over. No matter which version of you it was, you would want him. Even the darkest depths of you could not refuse it.

Maybe you would find him to tell him—or maybe you wouldn't. But whether you summoned the courage to utter it or not, the truth was right there in the centre of your chest, thrumming with a beat that belonged entirely to him.

But whether you wished to withhold it or not, you needed to find him first.

And you knew where best to look.

The UA barrier was larger than you imagined, reaching high into the dark, misty sky and stretching far around the campus. Though you could have snuck inside, you opted to use the front gate for once. There wasn't any need to hide.

You strode towards the main building, searching for a familiar mop of golden waves and a pair of small crimson wings, but could find neither.

Where are you, birdy?

It wasn't like you had something important to say, anyway.

"Nyx?"

You spun around at the sound of your name, your gaze meeting that of another—one eye of impossibility bright blue, and the other of a stormy, cold grey. "Shoto?"

The young hero didn't smile per se, though the corners of his mouth lifted so very slightly it seemed like he did. Strands of red and white blew across his forehead at a brush of the breeze and you were once again struck by how much he resembled Dabi. It ached just to look at him.

And he wasn't alone.

Another unruly blonde hero with eyes of raging crimson stood next to him. Katsuki Bakugo, as you recalled. The one who caught Deku. And from behind them stepped another person. A woman, older, with hair the colour of fresh fallen snow and eyes of silvery grey.

And then you were struck again.

She looked so much like him it physically hurt you.

"What are you doing here?" Shoto asked as you continued to stare blankly at the woman.

You tried to speak. "I—"

She was his mother. She had to be.

"I—I'm here to..." You paused, tearing your eyes from the woman. Shoto watched you curiously. "I'm looking for Hawks. Have you seen him?"

Shoto nodded. "He was here earlier, but I don't know where he is now."

"And who is this chick?"

The grumbling voice came from Katsuki Bakugo, who was eyeing you with an impressive amount of distaste for someone who knew absolutely nothing about you.

"Right. Nyx, this is Bakugo," Shoto introduced politely, despite the grumblings of his friend. He gestured to the woman. "And this is my mother, Rei."

Shoto's—Dabi's—mother inclined her head slightly but otherwise remained silent.

"And this is Nyx," Shoto continued. "She... worked with Hawks to infiltrate the League."

Rei's gaze snapped to you and remained there, though her lack of expression gave nothing away. You, for fear of crumbling beneath her stare, focused your attention on the angry blonde who was now looking at you like you weren't completely disinteresting.

"Why haven't I heard of you?" Bakugo questioned brashly.

Your mouth curled into a vicious smile. "Because I do the kind of jobs most heroes don't touch."

Bakugo narrowed his gaze. "Sounds like bullshit."

Your smile grew. "And I eat little chihuahuas like you for breakfast."

You delighted in the way his face reddened.

"You—"

Shoto slapped a hand over Bakugo's mouth. "We were about to have some tea and Bakugo was just about to leave. Would you like to join us?"

You opened your mouth to politely refuse, but Rei took a half step closer, drawing your eyes to her. "It would be our pleasure."

Shoto removed his hand from Bakugo who let out a "Tch" in response but didn't argue any further.

And now there was absolutely no hope of refusal, so you lied through your teeth. "I'd love to."

And now you were going to have fucking tea with Dabi's mother.

You returned your attention to the blonde. "It was nice to meet you, Bakugo."

The angry hero didn't bother to reply in anything but incoherent irritated noises, so you smiled sweetly at him and waved as he turned to leave and you were left with nothing to do but follow silently after the Todoroki's as they walked you through the UA campus.

If only Hawks hadn't decided to be so difficult to find.

Maybe you would punish him for it. Maybe you would torture him for just a little longer for unknowingly orchestrating a situation in which you had to use your social skills, which was bad enough as it was, but also use them with the mother of—

Nope. Breathe, Nyx. You're an assassin. You can survive some fucking tea—

But you didn't particularly want to survive it. In fact, you were considering taking flight out of a window at your earliest convenience.

"We're here," Shoto announced as you came to a stop before a door.

Great.

And now you were stepping inside and pulling off your boots and this was Dabi's mother and she looked so much like him it was splitting you open and who knows what could come pouring out—

"Do you like macha?" Rei asked, tearing you from your thoughts. You nodded quickly despite not even processing the question and Rei offered you the ghost of a smile in return. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll be right back."

Rei disappeared into what you assumed was the kitchen and left you with Shoto, who led you into a small living area with boxes of items still unpacked and stacked against the back wall. They, like many others, were making the safe zone their home for the time being.

Shoto stepped around the table in the centre of the room. "Sorry, there's a lot of stuff in here." He bumped against a cardboard box and the clink of glass bottles sounded at the jolt. "And there's not exactly enough space to display En—Dad's—whiskey collection."

And the sound of hard liquor was growing increasingly tempting.

"Don't worry," you said, moving to one side of the table to take a seat. "I've been basically living in a dumpster compared to this while I'm searching for—" You cut yourself off, meeting Shoto's gaze.

"Dabi?"

You nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, Dabi."

Shoto's phone buzzed and he fished it from his pocket, tapping twice on the screen. "I'll be right back, I have to take care of something."

"Okay."

At least Shoto was a buffer between you and Rei, but it seemed the universe was intent on making this experience as awkward as possible for everyone involved.

Instead of sitting down, you let your gaze wander over the room. You flicked your attention from the stacked boxes to the few pictures that had made it onto the walls and over to the corner of the room, where a small table held three candles and an upright picture frame.

You couldn't see it properly from the angle you were standing, so you moved a little closer.

It was a boy.

With hair as white as snow and eyes of piercing, brilliant b—

You clutched your aching chest.

Dabi.

He was so small and innocent and it broke you all over again to know who he became. And the worst part of it all was that you knew the heart of that boy still lived inside him and you destroyed it as surely as you destroyed your own.

"You saw all of me and you didn't run away."

Tears pricked your eyes.

"Somehow, I knew we would destroy each other. I wasn't all that surprised when I realised the reason you didn't run was because you couldn't."

The image of him invaded your mind and everything was hot—too hot. You were burning and you had been burning for so long and it was all you could feel and if you didn't breathe—

The rattle of a teacup startled you as Rei set a tray down on the table.

You were looking at her, but you couldn't stop the flames from devouring you and it was all too much—

A pair of cool hands wrapped around your own and you inhaled sharply.

Rei was standing before you, her eyes of silvery grey wide and so very sad it shattered something deep within you. Her hands were as cold as ice but his fire was impossibly hot and part of you craved how it burned.

"You cared for him, didn't you?"

And that was all it took to break the dam inside of you.

Tears flowed freely down your cheeks in rivulets as you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. You barely knew this woman and you were crying in front of her and she was rubbing the back of your palms like she knew the exact pain you felt.

"I'm sorry." Your words came between shaky breaths. "I'm so sorry. He—Shit... I betrayed him in the worst way and I always intended to, but I was never supposed to feel for him. But I did. God, I did. I can't change what happened and I wouldn't change it, but will I always be broken by it?"

You were splitting apart and no amount of willpower could stop it from happening.

"I—Where is..." You stumbled back, searching for the exit through a bleary gaze. "I need to go. I—I'm sorry."

Mercifully, your feet carried you to the door and out into the world beyond. The air was crisp and cool, a salve to the roaring fire beneath your skin but even the cold kiss of night couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

Breathe, Nyx. Just breathe. It's not that hard.

But it was unnecessarily hard when every intake of breath came far too fast and was followed too quickly by another.

You just needed—

What exactly did you need?

You slammed into something hard and warm and you would have backed away if not for the familiar scent of vanilla and musk that softened every muscle in your tired body.

"Hawks—"

How you clung to him, fingers fisted in his jacket while he wrapped his arms around you as if it was second nature. Were you allowed to feel so relieved to be near him? Were you allowed to need him so desperately it felt like a wish had been granted just to fall into his arms again?

"Nyx." Hawks drew you closer, letting your face bury into his chest as he stroked your hair in a gesture that was far too tender to be deserved. "Tell me what it is, love."

"Everything," you gasped. "Dabi, Twice, Toga—you. I am a monster, Keigo. I am broken and stained and I will never be free of it. I thought I was strong enough to keep it in. I thought—"

His words were as gentle as the arms he held you with. "You don't have to be."

"But I wanted to be." Your voice was muffled by his jacket. "I wanted to be above this, but I'm not." Another sob raked through you. "I just want to cry and—" You choked on the words.

"Then cry, Nyx." Hawks drew away from you to cup your face in his hands. His eyes were impossibly bright. "Let it out, and if you can't hold it anymore then I'll hold it for you. We don't have to be alone."

You could barely hear yourself speak. "Why?"

Hawks drew you in again, tucking you into his chest. "You know why, love."

"But I don't understand it."

"I do."

Hawks held you like a promise he intended to keep. It could have been minutes or hours or any time in between. He held you when your sobs ceased and your tears dried and for a long time after.

And you let him.

Because your foolish, broken heart was his.

"I feel like I should apologise to Rei for falling apart in her living room."

The soft rumble of Hawks' laughter was a melody for your soul. "You do realise we're still standing outside the door, right?"

You burrowed deeper into him. "This is terrible."

"You probably don't want to know that Shoto awkwardly stepped around us in the middle of that, then?"

Your cheeks flamed. "Too soon, Keigo."

***

Rei refused your apology, though you gave it, nonetheless.

If Shoto hadn't put two and two together about your relationship with his brother, he surely had by the time you left his house for the second time. He was so like Dabi and unlike him at the same time. The lack of external emotion was something they obviously shared.

Hawks was waiting outside the front door when you emerged, his hands dug into the pockets of his jacket and his attention on the starry sky above.

Silhouetted by night, he was devastating in his beauty.

He turned his attention to you as you approached, his gaze traveling to the bottle you were clutching in your hand. "What is that?"

"Whiskey," you shrugged. "I stole it from Endeavor's prized collection." When Hawks' brow raised, you exclaimed indignantly, "What? He deserves it."

Hawks' mouth curved. "You know he was my idol when I was a kid."

"That's a red flag, but I'll let it slide. You should pick better idols."

He exhaled a laugh, capturing your gaze as he leaned a little closer. "Don't worry, dove. There's only one person I intend to worship now."

You looked up at him through your lashes. "I hope it's me you're talking about because I will be very offended if it's not."

God, you loved the timbre of his laugh.

"And if it is?"

Maybe it was the dramatic emotional release, but you were feeling incredibly bold.

"Then I hope your worship is as sinful as I imagine it is."

Hawks' gaze darkened and you couldn't help the sultry little smile it evolved. You shook the bottle between you.

"I hope you're not going to make me drink this all by myself. It's aged."

He smirked. "You're a bad influence."

"I had a mental breakdown in a stranger's house and proceeded to continue to have it outside their front door. It's necessary."

Hawks laughed again. "Come on, then." He grabbed your free wrist. "I know a place."

"Oh, you know a place," you teased as he began to lead you away. "You're going to hit me with that line, are you?"

He glanced back at you. "I can always leave you behind."

"You wouldn't dare."

Hawks dragged you through corridors of UA's main building and up many flights of stairs until you reached a secluded rooftop. From so high up, you could see the entire city lit up in thousands of tiny lights. For a moment, it was easy to forget everything that was happening beyond the barrier walls outside.

"Trust a bird to find the best places to perch," you said as you opened the bottle to take a mouthful.

It was surprisingly smooth, but it still burned as it went down. You passed the bottle to Hawks.

"What were you doing here today, dove?"

You shrugged. "Just looking for you. Didn't Shoto say? I assume he found you for me."

Hawks took a long drink. "He mentioned, but that's not what I'm asking. Why were you looking for me?"

You could hear the smile in his words.

You took the bottle he was offering and drank. "No particular reason."

Hawks hummed in reply.

"But maybe I didn't like how we left things before," you continued, spurred on by the warmth in your veins. "Dramatic exits are my thing, by the way. But anyway, I decided I had something to say. You weren't at your apartment, so this was the next best guess."

He sat down at the edge of the roof and patted the space next to him. You took the invitation. "And what did you want to say?"

You tapped your lips with your fingers. "I seem to have forgotten," you teased. "I guess it wasn't that important."

Hawks pulled the bottle from your hand. "Oh, really?"

"Yes," you sighed wistfully. "Something about feelings, I think."

His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned a little closer so his words brushed against the shell of your ear. "Is there anything I can do to help you remember?"

The depth of his voice sent a lick of heat right down to the centre of you.

"Are you flirting with me again, Keigo?"

"Yes."

You exhaled a laugh, taking another swig from the bottle he passed to you. "I do like it when you flirt with me."

"I know."

You felt deliciously warm.

"You're very good at it."

"I know."

You scoffed, passing the whiskey to him. "You're not supposed to agree with me."

Hawks shrugged. "Spectacular ego, remember?"

You giggled, the sound escaping you before you could stop it. And given the way he was looking at you, it could have been magic.

He passed the bottle back to you, and you focused your attention on the sprawling city beyond in hopes it could slow the furious beat of your heart.

It didn't, of course

Because you wanted him.

God, you wanted him.

After a few minutes, you set the bottle down next to you and laid back so you could gaze up at the stars. The concrete was cold beneath you, but you felt so incredibly warm. A moment later, you heard the shift of Hawks doing the same. The mere brush of his arm against yours was enough to send you reeling.

"A year ago, I could never have imagined this was where my life would take me. Growing up in the Commission was just so..." You trailed off.

"Awful?"

"Yes," you exclaimed, laughing. "It was so awful. I didn't ask for that. Neither did you. But we never stood a chance, did we?"

You sighed, searching through the stars.

"And as terrible as it was, I wouldn't change it. I am who I am—and I love it as much as I hate it. I have the power to fight where others don't. I want to use it. I understand that now."

You turned your head to look at Hawks, only to find he was already watching you.

"I've been so incredibly difficult, haven't I?"

A smile formed on his perfect lips. "In a very endearing way."

You laughed a little. "If only I was as strong and level-headed as the beloved number-two hero."

Hawks shook his head. "I'm not as strong as you think I am."

You looked back up at the sky. "Then maybe I can hold a little something for you, too."

"You already have."

You turned your head to meet his gaze again. The colour of his eyes reminded you of melting gold. "I have?"

"That night," Hawks started. "It was the first good sleep I had since Twice. And that smile of yours—"

"What?"

Hawks grinned. "I think I'll keep that one to myself."

You pouted. "No fair."

The sweeping curtain of stars drew your attention once more.

"If you could fly anywhere, where would you go?"

Hawks didn't answer for a moment, but you knew he was thinking. And then he stretched out an arm towards the sky and pointed. "That star."

You squinted, attempting to follow his direction. "Which one?"

"Come closer, love."

You followed the deep sway of his voice, shuffling closer until the golden waves of his hair tickled your cheek.

"See?" Hawks asked.

But you'd stopped caring about the stars now that you were so close to him. He smelled like heaven, but would he taste like sin?

"That was smooth," you laughed softly as he dropped his arm and turned to look at you.

"It worked, didn't it?"

The words brushed your lips like a caress.

"That remains to be seen."

Hawks turned to lean on his shoulder, his nose teasing yours as he moved closer—so close you could almost taste him.

"Nyx."

The sound of your name was a prayer and a plea and a promise for worship.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

"Keigo."

Did his name sound as wonderful as it fell from your lips?

You wanted to ask, but Hawks was reaching for you, his fingers trailing down the side of your face and along your jaw and you were free-falling.

He leaned in, brushing just the ghost of a kiss to your lips and you decided you needed him as desperately as you needed air to breathe.

The tension was a tether between you—one so painfully taut it could snap at any moment. Hawks cupped your jaw and drew you in, his fingers so impossibly warm and—

Every thought in your head evaporated as his lips met yours.

His kiss was slow—exploratory. The hand cupping your jaw slid to your throat and every nerve in your body caught fire as his fingers pressed into your delicate skin.

Hawks kissed you like time was not a concept.

The pace was dizzyingly slow, drawing every ounce of pleasure from every movement and you were utterly consumed by him. His thumb brushed over the arch of your neck and your mouth parted in what would have been a moan had his not tongue swept past and devoured it.

He was intoxicating.

Hawks moved over you, caging you beneath him as his kisses grew hungrier the more drunk on you he became. You trailed your hands along the sides of his body, to the still-growing wings on his back, and wove your fingers between the feathers.

The moan you elicited from him was sinful.

You deepened the kiss, pulling him closer and closer as your hands slid up and up, into the silken strands of his golden hair.

God, they were so soft.

You tugged on his hair, stealing groans of pleasure as he pressed you harder into the concrete beneath you—as if you could never be close enough.

And you couldn't.