My Man (A Hao Asakura X Reader Fanfic)

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝟏

Y/N's POV:

You grit my teeth as you set yet another tree on fire. Every day, your powers became more uncontrollable, and every day, your hatred grows for not only yourself but also for humanity. You plop down on the muddy floor, angrily resisting the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. Being a shaman was hard enough, but having to have fire powers from some sort of unknown resource was just unnecessary, and made you be an outcast her whole life. Every time you went up to a person, and greeted them, they ran away screaming. What was so bad about you, that made everyone hate you so much? 

And now, to add on all of that pressure and stress and pure hatred for your powers, your burned your house down when you were still a child. Your long hair, black as sin trails down your back and touches the floor of the forest. You didn't even try to control your powers anymore. You just let it burn.

4 years ago:

Y/N Hayashi, age 15.

You shut the door as quietly as you could, trying not to turn your father's attention onto you. As soon as the door shuts, you sink down against the door, your tears dripping onto the floor. Emotions churn through you- anger towards your parents for fighting, sadness for being born into such a family, and jealousy for other people with perfect, despicable lives. The stench of mould makes your shudder, and suddenly, there was a bang at the door.

"Y/N!" a man's voice roared.

Your pulse begins to quicken at the sound of your father's furious voice. You back away from the door, as the rotten wood begins to splinter from the weight of your father's fists. Soon, it gives way, and it is knocked down. Your father was dragging your mother by her throat. Your mother claws at her throat, but soon hangs limp. Being an only child, you had to take all of the effort of handling your abusive father and depressed mother. Your father drops your mother and kicks her to the corner of your room, where she curls up, covering her scars and bruises. Your father raises a heavy hand and slaps you across the cheek. Suddenly, rage overtakes any other emotions in you, and you see red. The heat in your palms intensify, and you let out a scream of anger, sadness and absolutely everything. Fire heats up at your palms, and your father backs away, eyes widening in absolute fear.

Of course, even your father wouldn't know you had fire powers. For the last 15 years of your life, all he had cared about was alcohol, money and torture for others. Your curtains catch fire, and before your father can grab you, you punch through the window, the glass shards imbedding into your knuckles, but you don't notice it. "Turn your anger and pain into a weapon," her wise old neighbour had once said. "Don't let others control you."

With one more deathly glare at your burning house, your run away, the tears left in the dust.

But the trauma was still there.

Four years later, you are now 19 and still hadn't recovered from the shock. You had to fend for yourself, and lived only to be beaten down, over and over again each day. 

As you shake the horrid memories from your mind, you feel someone's presence in front of you. A gloved hand reaches out in front of you, and you spy a cream coloured cloak floating in the air. You look up, and eyes the colour of burnt gold look at you. "Join me," he said.

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𝓾𝓻𝓯𝓪𝓿_𝓹𝓲𝓰𝓰𝔂