Bloodied - Male!Reader x Toga Himiko (BNHA)

Brick

Your parents only ever gave you one gift before they passed away, their quirks.

Your father, a famous search and rescue worker, was well known for his quirk "Ashen," which allowed him to avoid harm and reach places nobody else could. Despite this ability, he stayed well away from the hero system, preferring to work with the civilian departments instead.

Your mother was very much the traditional stay at home mom. She too had a powerful quirk that allowed her to manipulate fire. However this quirk was recessive, and much weaker than the similar quirks of heroes like Endeavor.

They were worried when you were born with both, and your flame manipulation far dwarfed that of your mother. Concerns along of the lines of how much danger you posed to others if you lost control. They didn't know how right they were. Not that they lived to see their concerns come to reality.

Your first murder... a spontaneous thing. You couldn't explain it, even now. Maybe it was fate?

It's almost photographic in your mind. The coppery smell of spilled blood, the look of shock on his face as his eyes slowly misted over, the thud as he hit the ground like a sack of bricks. You replayed it over and over in your mind, a fascination born in you. You gripped his lifeless body and burned away the body to ash, they never found him.

You became obsessed with death. And then... more followed.

At first you tried to justify it to yourself, going after petty criminals like purse-snatchers, thieves and vandals. But eventually you forgot, and began to kill just because you could. You wanted to see death, in as many ways as possible. Each one orchestrated and executed in a new way, with a new weapon. Each body dissolved away by your powers.

You were never involved in the battle between the heroes and villains, much preferring to live in your own little world, picking on the weak, those who would never truly be missed.

Despite that though, the authorities still attempted to hunt you down. They appointed some mid-tier heroes new to the job to track you and bring you to justice. Unfortunately for them their only lead was that you were killing, and that there was no evidence of the crime anywhere. The only connection between your killings was the ash you left behind on occasion.

"Ash," became the name the local news reported you by. You were prideful, people finally recognizing your achievements. But as you know, pride comes before the fall, and your self constructed world of murder and secrecy couldn't last forever.

---

You shake in anticipation under your hood as your target peels away from the bustling streets and into one of the many dark alleys that weave their way through the city. You'd been waiting days for your opportunity to strike, a fairly renowned mobster working with the local Yakuza.

You wonder how he'll die. Would he struggle? Or would he die instantly and without a sound?

You creep down the alley as he takes a left into an empty backlot. The area illuminated by old vending machines and the light spilling from the surrounding windows. Nowhere to run from you. He looks at his watch, and adjusts his white suit jacket. Was he waiting for someone? They'll be sorely disappointed.

You step in a puddle, making the man jump and spin around to face you. He opens his mouth, revealing two missing teeth to spout some garbage at you. "Eh? Are you the guy I'm waiting for? You don't look... like the type."

You approach him without a word.

"But I guess you're having to keep this meeting under wraps, what would they say if they found out about our deal?"