𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 ➣ Dabi

don't know

You unlock your apartment door and step in. It's cold and your plants are all dead or barely hanging on. It doesn't smell the greatest since food in the fridge has expired and rotted while you were gone. But for the most part it looks about the same. You sigh, your chest tightening with longing to be free. Even if you're now moving in with the League, you still don't belong there. You don't know that you will ever belong there.

Dabi runs his fingers along the table, staring at your small apartment. It's not very big nor the nicest. But it works for you because rent was cheap and you needed a place to live.

"It's...nice," he says.

You look back at him and frown. He walks up to you, his exterior and demeanor suddenly scaring you. And that look in his eyes is worse. So much worse. You suck in a breath, ignoring the way his hand reaches up and grabs you by your neck, his thumb gently caressing your scar. He hums, tilting his head back and looking at you down the bridge of his nose. You gulp, too afraid to move, too afraid to breathe, to talk, to think. You're stuck in his grasp.

Stuck. You're always stuck someplace. You're stuck with the League. Now you're stuck in Dabi's hold. What is it with you and being stuck all the time? You just want out.

He rubs his finger along your scar, his skin almost burning you. "Do you like this?" he asks, running his thumb over it.

You shake your head no. You don't know if he meant the scar or the fact that he's touching you. Either way, you would've said no because there's no way you can tell him you like when he grabs your neck like this. He's a villain. Not a love interest.

"Why not?" he asks, cocking his head and sounding disappointed.

Tears spring in your ears but you make no move to escape. "They stare at me," you whisper, choking up.

"That's all?"

You shake your head, your tears spilling out of your eyes and tracing your cheeks. "They give me weird looks. And call me names. And they judge me."

He tsk. "That's not very nice of them, now is it?"

You shake your head and drop it, too embarrassed and weak to look him in the eyes. You're submissive naturally. You've been so afraid that it's hard for you to say no or stand up for yourself. So automatically you drop your head to give him the dominance.

Dabi cups your chin and makes you look at him. "Use your words, Little mouse."

"No," you say with a shaky voice. "It's not nice."

"How does it make you feel?"

You shrug, looking to the side as you think. Slowly, you open your mouth and say, "Hurt. Sad. Embarrassed."

"Angry."

You turn back to him, to his turquoise eyes and dark menacing hair. To his small smirk and scarred face. To the vengeful glint in his eyes. To the face of understanding. Because he gets it. He gets those same stares and the same judgmental looks. He gets it.

So you nod. Yes. It makes you angry. It makes you angry because your scar doesn't define you. It doesn't mean you're any different from them. So why do they always hurt you?

He smiles. "Do you want to do something about it?"

"What?"

"Do you want them to know you? To know your scar doesn't define you?"

How does he...?

"Yes."

"Well baby," he says, grinning and leaning closer. "You're in the right place."

Your eyes widen and you step back. "But I'm not a villain," you whisper, touching a finger to your trembling lips. "I don't hurt people."

"You won't. You'll just heal the people who hurt people."

"But—"

"No buts. You're stuck here, doll."

No. No. You can't be stuck. You don't want to be stuck here. It's not meant for you. It's not right for you. You aren't a villain. You don't want to be a villain with the League. You just want to live a normal life, neither a hero nor a villain. You don't want either.

"It won't be so bad." Dabi steps forward. You step back. "You'll be with us." Step forward. Step back. "We'll keep you safe from the heroes." Forward. Back. "You'll like it here. Won't you?"

"But—"

"Don't tell me you don't want to hurt them," he says, backing you up till your back hits the wall. You gasp, your lips parted and your breath heavy. "Right? When they look at you like you're a monster. Don't you want to just hurt them? Just a little?"

No.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

Maybe.

Agh. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know. You don't know.

"Yes," you gasp.

He smiles. "Yeah?" You nod numbly, choking on your tears. "How badly?"

"Badly!" you cry, hitting his chest. "They're so mean to me and they don't even know me! It hurts! I hate it!"

"Good girl. Then you'll fit right in."

Dabi gets to work, throwing random shit into boxes. You don't really get to decided what comes and goes except for the few things you put in or shove in the pockets of your sweatshirt. At the end, there's five boxes with not including the one filled with clothes. The entire time, you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. You hate that Dabi's right. You hate that you'll fit in. You hate it. You aren't a villain and yet, you weren't lying when you said you wanted to hurt them. There were a few instances when the looks they gave you made you so hurt and so. . . so angry. What is with it and people staring at you like a monster? You're a normal human being! Not some freak. So, yeah, you wanted to hurt them. At least a little. Just enough to make them understand. To make them stop staring and stop judging. That's all.

"Come on, Doll," Dabi says after loading the last box into the truck. You sit on the curb, holding onto your torso while you fight back the tears. "Let's go back."

He helps you up. You sniff, your eyes red and puffy from all the tears, from the few tears trickling down your cheeks. You guess the revelation that you're not better than Dabi really hit hard. At least he's not yelling at you. Yet.

Before you can climb in the truck, Dabi spins you around. "No more crying," he says with a slightly soft voice. "Okay? There's no reason to cry. You should be happy."

You nod and mumble, "I know."

"Why aren't you?"

You shrug. "I don't know," you whisper.

He lets out a breathy laugh. "Hop in. We should get you home so you can eat."

"Okay."

Okay.

You're a villain.

And there's no going back.  

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