Mha Dabi - Blog Posts

happy birthday to the pretty little pyro, Dabi!!

Im so fucking mad rn

THE FUCK YOU MEAN TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FINAL SEASON

JUST MAKE MORE EPISODES WHATS STOPPING YOU SOMEONE TELL ME

I LOOKED IT UP ON GOOGLE AND IT SAYS THAT THE NEXT FUCKING SEASON OF MHA IS COMING OUT LATE 2025

SO WHAT THE HELL I HAVE ANOTHER REASON TO LIVE IG BUT LIKE

AHAGAGAGAGGAGAGAGAGSGAAYJKL

no

No because why are you upset?

While yes it is hard to believe and a little disappointing that Deku sort of drifted away with like you know talking to his friends and stuff, he still met with them in the end

And thinking about it, no matter what happened, that was what happened for me with my high school friends, we sort of drifted away (minus the fact that I did not save the world 💀)

And honestly like being a hero looks like a really fuckin hard and time consuming job ya'll really think they have that much extra time on they're hands??

Like ya'll- Deku's still a hero

Did we forget Bakugou started like creating an epic hero suit that would HELP with that???

LIKE STOP COMPLAINING

I'll say this once and I'll say it again

What Horikoshi was trying to say with My Hero Academia is that heros are just ordinary people. Like the term 'hero' is different for everyone. And personally, My Hero Academia is the reason I'm alive rn, and I'm grateful for that because otherwise I wouldn't have met my niece, whom I am very close to. (That child will grow up to do great things and I will do everything I can to support her) and so for this reason, Horikoshi is MY hero because he created this silly show about a kid like me who became a hero in many people's eyes.

Remember the League of Villains? Shigaraki was their hero, wasn't he?

Remember Stain? To a lot of people, he was their hero.

There are so many cases where I personally think that Horikoshi made to say that the term hero means something different for different people, and that hero's are just ordinary people in real life, not people with super strength or super speed, but regular normal people.

Anyway, thank you for your time.

bro can we PLEASE talk about how fucking SHITTY my hero ending was…

Just to give ya'll a heads up, heres whats in my drafts pls don't steal my ideas

So we got Katsuki Bakugou x Cheshirecat reader (part two)

We got some comfort with Mezo Shoji

We got Izuku Midoriya angst (the cliche of where you 'die' instead of Katsuki)

We got some submissive Dabi

Thats whats goin on rn

OH

AND

Izuku Midoriya but reader is like Dazai from bsd

Stay tuned!

This is how I saw Dabi's reveal.

Shoto: awe, man, I'm so lonely. I wish I had a friend.

Dabi, walks in the house with his arms stretched out.

Shoto: gasp! Brother! You're back!

Dabi: thats right. (Holds up full carton of milk.) I came back with the milk.

Shoto: hooray! Finally, we can-

Dabi, furiously drinking the milk.

Shoto: wat

Dabi, holding up now empty bottle of milk: aw, man. Outta milk. See ya, shoto. (Leaves)

Shoto: NOO

NOOOOOOO

BRING THEM BACK NOW

I DON'T WANT SOME RANDOM DAY I WANT THEM BACK NOW NOWWWWWW

we'll meet again

don't know where, dont know when

but I know we'll meet again

some sunny day

Broos

Imagine Dabi with like an S/O thats like Zoë Hange of Attack on Titan

Now you may be thinking, Bones, why are you still not over Hange?

And to that I reply 🗿

Anyway

Imagine that like his S/O [could be you or ur oc or someone else whatever] is a pro hero but thinks of villains as silly goofy little guys like when they first met, Dabi was like:

"You know I kill people, right?"

And you just say

"Oh, thats okay, you were just feeling a little silly!"

Dabi's S/O would be like tryna rehab these villains frrr

But they'd also be pretty interested in the Nomu's as well, like how their made, what quirks they contain, etc.

Dabi even got them a pet Nomu for their birthday! [Bean]

Anyway love you guys🗿

Imagine (before Dabi's big reveal maybe)

Imagine bro

Dabi had a beautiful partner, a beautiful S/O that was his, all his.

They made him feel alive.

They genuinely cared for him.

And then they were killed by Endeavour.

Dabi stares at your burning body, heart breaking every second he sees you like this. He watches as the blue flame flakes off your skin, the smell of charred and rotten skin filling the air.

Dabi found your body in an alley.

Endeavour didn't even take your body to your family. He just left you on the cold ground.

Of course he wouldn't, he fucking killed you. That would ruin his reputation if he brought your dead body to your family.

So Dabi decided to lay you down in the forest and burn your body. After all, he was always curious to see how you would look going up in flames.

"I think we should say some words." Dabi says to no one, spreading his arms out.

"Here lays Y/N. Beloved by all they met. The angel in hell." He growls out, clenching his fists as he continues to stare at the fire consuming your body.

He lets out a laugh, but its more of a scoff. "Thanks for loving a useless fuckin' idiot." He hisses out, venom in his voice as he watches the flames.

He picks up the bottle of whiskey he brought with him, flicking off the cap and taking a large sip from the bottle.

He lets out a breath after he removes the bottle from his lips. He feels like crying. He feels like tearing his fucking hair out, he feels like jumping into that pile of flames with you.

Instead he gulps, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "I told you you would still look cute even as a pile of ashes." He calls out to your body, extending his arms out again as if to present something.

"I know I said I'd take your ashes to your family, but we both know I'm a selfish prick. So I'll be keeping them." He chuckles darkly, taking another gulp of whiskey from the bottle.

"I still...love you." He then whispers, putting the bottle down. "Even if you are dead now." Dabi mutters, a fake smirk plastered on his face.

"And I'll make sure to kill Endeavour the same way he killed you. Maybe that will jog his fuckin' memory when I'm staring down at his pathetic burnt body." He growls out, clenching his fists so hard around the bottle that he breaks the glass.

Dabi tosses the shards of broken glass into the fire and ontop of your body. "Love you, doll. Always will."

From that day on, Dabi kept your ashes in a small bottle he keeps tied around his neck.

Oh boy

Oh boy

You guys know what this means

......

♡Devoured by the flames...♡

♡Toya Todoroki x Female reader♡

Male version here!!!

If anyone would like to remember what his voice sounds like here is a video I found with some of his voice lines (in English) if you would like to watch that and then read this

◇Stuff this will contain◇:Aphrodisiacs, face riding, sub!Toya x Dom!reader,

♧People under 18 shouldn't interact♧

♤Enjoy at your own risk.♤

You hate paperwork.

So many reports, so many essays. After every long misson, you had to write a report about how it went, things you encountered, anything you learned. Being a hero had its downsides, but so does everything, you suppose. No matter what you did in life, there were always pros and cons.

Sighing, you lean back on your chair, tilting your head back as you stare at the ceiling and run a hand through your hair. Its messy. You groan. Of course it is. It seems like your whole life has turned around since you became a hero. You've pretty much lost all contact with your friends, your family, anyone you had in your life before all this. And how could you? You were so busy all the time. You couldn't even make plans with someone without canceling last second because you would get called to your agency for something.

So many things were different now.

You can't help but wonder what it would be like to leave. Maybe fake your death? It was probably to early for you to retire. What if you ran away? You could change your whole identity.

You sigh, taking yout hands off of your head as you stand up from your chair. "Alright. Thirty minutes of paperwork. I can probably take a small break now." You mutter to yourself. You look out the window, your eyes widening. "Huh?! Its night! How long have I been working?!" You groan again, shutting your eyes in frustration. "Dammit." You huff.

"Coffee?" Your assistant says, placing the cup on your desk. For some reason, his voice is different. Its more low, deep, and sexy? Your assistant wears a long button down white shirt, black slacks and a face mask. The only light in the room was a dimly lit lamp you used to shine light on your reports with, so you couldn't really make out his face anyway.

You sigh, picking up the cup and taking a large sip from the cup, not caring how you looked or how you came off. "Thanks." You finally huff put after you place the now empty cup back on the desk. Your assistant places his hands on your desk, tilting his head to the right. "Looks like you had a long night, ma'am." He says in a low tone, making you raise an eyebrow.

"Yep. Just the same old stuff. Paperwork, reports, stuff like that." You say in a tired tone of voice as you plop yourself down on your office chair. Your assistant walks around the desk and over to you, sitting on the floor infront of you. "You seem stressed." He observes. "Thanks, captain obvious." You grumble out, rubbing the bridge between your nose. You suddenly feel...Hot. Horny.

You feel suddenly turned on. Hold on...

That fucker put something in your drink.

You feel as his hands grab your knees, slowly sliding his hands up to your thighs. "Would you...maybe like me to take some of that stress away?" He asks, a slight seductive tone to his voice. You grab his hands, gripping them tightly. You were a pro hero, and you weren't about to let this fucker take advantage of you.

"What the hell did you put in my drink?" You growl out, your own hands squeezing his with a death grip. He lets out a low chuckle, not seeming to mind the strength of your grip. "Nothin." He murmurs, enjoying how you get so angry and worked up over him.

Then it hits you.

Your assistant clocked out earlier today. This wasn't him. His voice belongs to someone else. You quickly rip off his face mask, throwing him to the ground and using your boot to stomp on his chest, keeping him pinned down. You grab the lamp, then shine it in his face...

"Toya." You huff, rubbing the bridge between your nose. Of course it had to be him. It always is. The man grins devilishly up at you, his bright cyan eyes filled with mischief and lust. "Took you long enough to notice." He growls out, grabbing your ankle and lifting your foot up and off of him.

He sits up, looking up at you as you sit back down onto your office chair. You groan, placing your face on your hands. He looks up and you, watching your face intensely as he spread your legs open and rests his head on your inner thigh.

"Toya, no, I don't have time to fuck you tonight." You swat his hands away, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back. The drug he gave you...damn it. The aphrodisiacs are really kicking in. During your relationship with Toya, you found out he adores being taken care of. He loves it when you praise him, degrade him, ride him or his face, or fuck him with your strap. Other times, he loves digging his face into your cunt, shoving his fingers or tongue into you.

He really gave you a whole other definition of switch.

Toya groans, shoving your legs open again. "Its just us in your agency, doll. No one would hear." He says seductively, moving his hands back onto your thighs and up towards the waistband of your pants.

You glare down at him. God dammit, he was so hard to say no to. You sigh, taking his hands off your thighs once again. "Get on the floor. You have ten minutes to make me cum, then your done. Got it?" Toya nods vigorously, a mischievous grin growing on his face. He knew it was just a matter of time before you agreed.

Toya lays down on the floor, watching you closely as you close the windows to your office. He didn't stop you. After all, he was a villain and you were a hero. There would be trouble for both of you if anyone saw. You begin to slowly rid yourself of your belt, placing it ontop of your desk and keeping it relatively close incase Toya needed to be spanked. You slip off your pants, letting them pool around your feet, then finally throw off your panties.

Toya grins devilishly, looking up at you with pure lust in his eyes. You raise an eyebrow at him. "Don't look so excited. You have ten minutes, remember?" You say, hovering your cunt over his mouth. Toya struggles to keep his hands to himself, wanting so fucking badly to grab your thighs and shove you down on his tongue.

You then finally sit down onto his face. You feel his staples graze and press against your inner thighs, poking uncomfortably. The pain is soon replaced by pleasure as Toya flicks his tongue against your clit. Toya slowly begins to lick and suck on your pussy, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles around your slit.

He can feel your body trembling against him and he knows that you're enjoying every second of this. "You taste so good," he says between licks, his voice rough between your thighs. Toya continues to lavish attention on your pussy, his tongue delving deeper and deeper inside of you.

He can feel the heat and the wetness of your arousal against his lips and it's driving him wild. "Your pussy is so sweet and soft," he moans, his tongue swirling around your clit. "I could do this all day."

You groan, biting your lip. He's too good at this. You can already feel the hot coil in your abdomen build up, and it hasn't even been five minutes. Toya continues to lick and lap at your cunt like a starved man or a thirsty dog. "Just wondering," He groans out, muffled by your pussy. "If I make you cum before the ten minutes are up, do I get to sit on your face?" Toya asks, slowly beginning to suck on your clit.

You pull and tug on his hair, needing something to hold onto. "I'll think about it..." you moan out, beginning to grind your hips onto Toya's face. As Toya continues to eat you out, he starts to fantasize about the idea of him riding your face. The thought of it makes him even more excited and he picks up the pace, his tongue moving faster and more forcefully.

Toya continues to eat you out, his tongue moving faster and harder against you. He can feel your body shaking with pleasure, and he knows that you're getting close. "That's it," he says, his breath hot against your skin. "Let go for me. I want to feel you cum on my tongue." You really never gave him permission to talk, but you don't care currently.Toya reaches up and grabs your hips, pulling you deep and closer to his face.

He's devouring you now, his tongue moving in quick, firm strokes. He can feel your body tensing up, and he knows that you're on the edge of orgasm. "Cum for me, baby," he whispers, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin. "Let me taste your pleasure. Please, i need you taste you so fucking bad..." He growls out, wanting so badly to palm his hard on, but not wanting to feel your wrath.

Toya knows that you're about to come undone, and he's ready to push you over the edge. He starts to use his fingers, slipping them inside of your pussy and curling them upwards, hitting that sweet spot that drives you wild.Your eyes shoot open, letting out a silent scream as you feel orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.

Your juices spill out onto Toya's tongue and all over his face, and he immediately laps it up like the dog he is. He stops when you tug on his hair, signaling your done and he needs to stop. Toya helps you sit down, grabbing a few tissues to clean up your pussy. You pant slightly, closing your eyes as you relax into his touch.

Its only been nine minutes.

Toya grins cheekily as he begins to lay you down onto the ground.

"So....how about it?" He grins devilishly.

Fuck.

He's a ten but he loves his bestfriend more than you

He's a ten but he still hasn't fixed his daddy issues

Just a quick heads up, The Dabi smut fic one the poll so I was wondering if you would like to choose the gender or plot or if you just want me to write it already

Does anyone else think of dabi when they hear this

Like

Like anyone?

Anyone?

No? Just me?

Ok

Dabi with a healer S/O!

Reader has a healing quirk, anything you touch can start to heal instantly, but slowly

Warnings: Blood, sorta ooc Dabi?

"Hey, you." Dabi speaks, leaning against the doorframe. His deep turquoise eyes look at you up and down, a smirk remaining on his face.

Blood drips from the wounds on his waist and onto the floor. "Mind patching me up?" He says, not really asking. He walks over, sitting on the bed.

You turn to him with a look of confusion on your face that quickly turns to shock.

"Oh my god!" You quickly rush to him, examining his wounds. You grab the bandages, putting them to the side as you dab Dabi's wounds with rubbing alchohol.

Dabi doesnt wince or flinch as you tend to his wounds, not even protesting. He remains silent and motionless, allowing you to do what you need to do. As you work, you notice that his burn scars are extensive and that some of his stitches are coming loose.

You let out a small sigh, knowing you should probably fix those too. Turning away for a moment, you grab the needle and thread. When you turn back to him, you slowly begin to restich the burns.

You try to make it as painless as can be, occasionally glancing up at Dabi's face to see his expression.

Eventually, you finish. Looking up at him, you ask, "What happened?" In a soft and gentle tone.

Dabi is silent for a moment, clearly hesitant to answer. He glances at you, taking in your beauty and soft features. He feels a strange sensation in his chest, as if his heart is beating faster. "It's none of your business." He finally replies, his voice cold and harsh.

You begin to feel a bit frustrated. You just kept this idiot from dying, and he wasn't even going to tell you what happened? How annoying...

"I'm just trying to help." You retort, using your quirk to numb his pain and make the wound heal faster. After a few seconds of silence, you begins to speak again. "Dabi…please. Stop being so reckless." You say softly.

"Your important to the me and the rest of the league…not just because of your quirk." You murmur in a soft voice.

The more Dabi looks at you, the more he sees you as an angel. "I don't need your pity." He waves you off, not seeming to care about the things you say to him.

You give up trying to reach him, putting the remaining bandages away. "I'm done patching up your wounds." You say, turning you back to him as you put your supplies away.

You then look back at him, looking up at him. "Is there anything else that needs to be fixed?" You ask, your voice soft.

Dabi smirks at you, standing up and stepping closer, towering over you with his impressive height. He leans down to your level and speaks in a low voice. "Actually, there is something that needs to be fixed." He says, looking into your eyes.

Slightly unamused with Dabi's antics, you raise an eyebrow. You reach behind you, grabbing the bandages again. "Such as..?"

"You." Dabi says bluntly. "Your too soft and sweet for a villain." He adds, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm surprised you haven't been eaten alive yet.

You begin to feel very annoyed with this. You belong here just as much as anyone else in the league does. "Excuse me?" You respond, stepping back.

Dabi chuckles at your response and stands up straight, continueing to tower over you. "I'm just saying that you don't fit in with the rest of us villains." He says, his voice still low. "You're too kind and innocent for this life."

"I'm not a delicate flower that's in need of protection." You take his hand off your hair and glare at him. "And especially not YOUR protection." You retort. "And if theres nothing broken, I'll be going now." You say sternly, turning and ready to walk away.

Before you can, Dabi grabs your wrist and pulls you back towards him, his other hand sliding down to your waist.

"Oh, right, sure. You're definitely not in need of protection." He says sarcastically, pulling your body flush against his own. "I can see it in your eyes, you're not used to this kind of life. You're too gentle and kind to be a villain." He looks at you with a mischievous smile. "I can take care of you."

You narrow your eyes, and move your hand down to his waist. You pinch his fresh wounds, making him let go of you.

"I told you, I don't need your protection." You say, finally walking away.

Dabi watches you leave. He smirks to himself, knowing that you'll come chasing back to him again.

Its only a matter of time before he has you in his arms again.

Well well well. MORE Dabihawks

“Blue stars are known for their short life span….from burning through their fuel too quickly.” Oh Touya </3

no one can tell me the league (pre war) doesnt have nights where they go to arcades and compete at EVERYTHING and whoever gets the most tickets from each event gets all the tickets from it.

im thinking spinner would prob win skii ball but toga would DOMINATE those water shooting games lol.

tomura would prob b good at all the rhythm games but so would hawks wirh guitar hero and dabi with DDR so those would b rlly long fights to the death between them.

twice is prob just playing gatcha machines in the corner and magne is making sure nothing burns down wile also winning every claw game first try somehow

short flight

Keigo: 'You like endeavor?! I do too! Wanna go play?!' what happened to that? What happened to you? The innocence you had?

Dabi: ... You know what happened.

Keigo: No- I.. don't...

Dabi:

Keigo:

*silent realization of their whole lives*

doodles from the ff i wrote 🫶 link under the cut if anyone wants it!

and this one was the one that i talked about "do not trust the process" thing. Yeah. I'm never gonna draw him again without drawing line art or smthng.

A little bit late but happy b-day drama queen Dabi Touya!🤭

Dabi really is the representation of the stored rage that eldest daughters carry within themselves…. Rage and anger at being laden with expectations- and when you finally crash under their weight you are thrown aside without any help from the very people who are supposed to be taking care of you

“His suffering will be proof that I existed” what a line. What a fucking line.

Me and @khaotic-luca making a debut as Labi and Mrs. Yunpress!

We are actually planning on cosplaying as Compress and Dabi at AnimeNYC this August, that’s when we’ll be taking LOTS of photos 🫣 Maybe even take some photos with other League of Villain members!

Lola

Age: 19

Birthday: July 29th at 6 am

Likes: Quiet, peacefulness, flowers, feeling peoples different skin textures, playing the kalimba, Shgaraki

Dislikes: People talking about her father, loud noises,, violence, bullies, her old school, abusers, Endeavor, herself

Bilingual in Spanish, English, and Japanese

Quirk: Corpse flower

Her hair is almost as long as rapunzel’s and anyone that touches her by the hair with their bare skin will almost immediately have a heart attack or seizure, and die. She is also able to disintegrate anything her hair touches, almost exactly like Shiggy’s quirk.

The rose on top of her head is actually a part of her body and every time she kills someone or loses control of her emotions, it emits a rotting flesh smell just like a real corpse flower. It also symbolizes what she feels

When she’s sick or unwell, the rose starts to wilt. 🥀

Rotting flesh= angry/sad

Lavender= scared, or trying to relax or calm down

Fresh Roses= Happy

Breaks down in tears when someone is killed from her quirk.

Sometimes when she has mental breakdowns, the hair has a mind of it’s own and extends and/or unravels itself to destroy or disintegrate everything around her. The LOV made a special room for her to lock herself in so she doesn’t kill everyone at the base.

She snuck into the sports festival, and after hearin what Endeavor shouted at his son when he used his fire, she knew almost instantly what must be going on behind the scenes… after all… her father was almost no different.

Her father and mother were both pro heroes. But once Lola’s quirk manifested, she accidentally killed her mother, and her father abandoned her. After years of being bounced around and abused in the foster system, she saw how the people in the LOV almost took out Endeavor with the nomu, she wanted to join… thinking people are oh so great when really they’re nothing but wolves in sheeps clothing (or I guess in this case; Villains Wearing A Hero’s Cape) don’t deserve the fame and glory they get, when they themselves do villainous deeds that most of the time produce what society labels as “Villains”

That, and… she doesn’t think there’s anything else for her to do with the kind of quirk she’s burdened with.

Everyone at the LOV was surprised when this young girl presented herself as a person who wants to join the most wanted terrorist group in Japan. The boys even placed bets on how long it would take her to leave.

Shigaraki refused at first, thinking someone as sensitive, weak, and fragile as her, would last a day in the LOV

Twice and Toga thought that she was cute, and wanted her to stay.

Shigaraki saw way too much of himself in Lola and after 48 hours of not being able to get her out of his head; he finally let her join.

A little Dabi x Reader thing for my thoughts from earlier.

MDNI

Kids are a complicated thing for him, in all honesty. He was the result of a man who had married his wife for the sole purpose of having children so that he could prove that he was better than everyone else. He watched his mother go through pregnancy three more times after him, and saw what that did to her. To everyone. Especially when his bastard of a father deemed each one of them a failure and demanded another.

He is also afraid. Afraid that his child will end up with a quirk like his, one that is so horribly powerful that it hurts to use, and could kill the child. He's afraid that he's more like his father than he wants to be, and he thinks for the longest time that he'd rather castrate himself than do that to another person.

As he starts to realize his wants and needs both in bed and in a relationship in general, however, he realizes that he wants to stuff his partner so full of cum that there was no avoiding the inevitable despite protection. He wants to get her pregnant. He wants to breed.

It makes him sick, for a long time. Even once he's found you, his everything, he refuses to bring it up. He keeps the disgusting thoughts to himself lest he end up pressuring you like Endeavor pressured his mother.

He's still not sure whether you said something first, or if he was just so drunk on the high of fucking you that he just blurts it out, but suddenly you're wrapping your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together to keep him buried in your pussy, and you beg him for it. For him to cum inside, to stuff you full of his seed so you can give him a child consequences be damned.

And when those two little pink lines appear on the test a few weeks later, he decides that even if his plans end up with him getting himself killed instead of his father, the most fucked up thing he could do was make sure he left something of himself behind to finish the fucking job.

Dabi x Reader Oneshot

I was gonna put this on ao3 but I decided you all can have it instead.

Dabi tries to break up with you.

Loving someone like him wasn’t easy, he was a man of contradictions. He could be cagey and distant one day, clingy and obsessive another. There were days he’d say barely two words to you, and days he’d talk until his throat couldn’t take any more. But there was at least one thing that he was consistent on: 

Dabi didn’t lie.

If you asked him something he couldn’t-or just didn’t want-to answer, he’d either stay silent, or tell you that it wasn’t your business. Things like that included his work with the League, and his identity or past. Even if you pushed him on it, he’d clamp his jaw shut and turn away from you. You’d asked him once, why he didn’t just tell you something, even if it wasn’t true. You’d reminded him that it wasn’t like you’d know if he was lying, so what was the harm? 

“I don’t like liars,” Is all he’d said, and you’d had no choice but to accept it. You appreciated his truthfulness, knowing well just how easy it was for a man to lie to you just to keep in your good graces. Dabi was not afraid of telling you the truth, even if it hurt or made you angry. 

And that’s what makes tonight so strange. 

There was something in the way he stood, stiff yet overly relaxed, that clued you into something not being quite right. Then he refused to look you in the eye, which was definitely strange for him. He may not always look at you directly while speaking, but he was never the type to go to any great length to avoid your gaze. And tonight, his eyes were everywhere but on you, no matter how hard you tried to meet them. And on top of all that, nothing he was saying even made sense to you. 

He’d lived in your home, eaten your food, given you any and everything he could, told you over and over again for the last year that he loved you. And now he was breaking up with you? 

No, something was wrong here. Very, very wrong. 

“Dabi,” You say his name slowly, carefully. “Can you just…tell me what’s going on?”

“I am telling you,” He says, tone far too strained to be natural. 

“Not…not really.” 

“It’s just not working.”

“What isn’t working?” 

“Us.” 

“What about us?” 

He lets out a hard sigh, your name mumbled from his lips. His eyes flit to yours for the barest second before they find the far wall again. 

“We don’t fit,” He says, and for the first time in this entire conversation, he sounds honest. 

“Says who?” You ask with a careful step forward. You reach out to touch him, hands gently grazing the front of his shirt before resting on his chest, soaking in his warmth through your fingertips. He doesn’t flinch at your touch, doesn’t lean away. If anything, he presses himself closer, his body much more truthful than his words.

“Says everyone.” 

You frown, pushing yourself closer by just another step. Your hands slide up his chest to caress his face, forcing him with gentle hands to look at you. He looks like he’s in pain. 

“Dabi,” You say his name again, catching how he subtly flinches at the sound of it. “My love-” 

He rips away from you, shoving you hard backwards in the process. It’s such a sudden action that you’re unable to catch yourself before tumbling to the ground, hissing in pain when your ankle twists the wrong way. Traitorous tears fill your eyes and threaten to fall from your lashes as you look up at him from your new spot on the ground. The way he looks back at you can only be described as abject horror. 

“No-fuck-I-” He vacillates between reaching for you and backing further away, unsure of what to do with himself now. “Shit.” 

His breathing is coming hard, eyes blown wide. One hand digs into his hair, pulling at his scalp, the other scratching at the staples in his face, almost like he was trying to tear them out. Your breath catches in your throat when you realize that he’s having a panic attack. 

You say his name, but he doesn’t hear you. His eyes are unfocused, his chest heaving. He manages to stumble back one more step before hitting the far wall and going still. You take that as your chance to move, scrambling up and limping over to him slowly, hands outstretched to take hold of him as soon as he’s within distance. When the first drops of blood hit your floor, you move faster, launching yourself forward heedless of how badly your ankle hurts. 

“Hey, hey,” You keep your voice low, grabbing at his wrists and trying to pull them away from his hair and face. He’s shaking, even harder than the days when he stumbles home overheated and overtired. He’s looking at you, but you aren’t sure he’s really seeing you. 

You coax him into sitting on the floor with you, letting him stay with his back pressed into the wall while you knelt in front of him. You’ve managed to pry his hands away from their self-destructive task and now hold them close, pressing them gently against your own chest so that he can feel your heartbeat and steadier breathing. 

“I’m okay,” You murmur softly, trying to keep your face neutral at the sight of his bloodied face. He’d managed to get a few staples out, causing new wounds in the process. “It’s going to be okay.” 

You wrack your brain for what to do now. There was no promise that this pause in self harm wouldn’t start back up at the wrong word or movement. Dabi was stronger than you, if he wanted to pull away from you and dig his fingers into his skin until he bled all over, he very well could, and though you’d resist, he’d definitely win that fight. There had to be something you could do, something that would shake him out of his fog just enough for you to bring him back to reality, without making it worse than it already was. 

“Do you think All Might would win in a fight against a mantis shrimp?” You blurt, surprising you both. Dabi looks at you, blinking slowly.

“I mean,” You continue. “Mantis shrimps can punch super hard, right? Like they can really fuck someone up despite being so little. But since All Might is also, like, the strongest in the world, would that make it a fair fight?” 

The corner of his lips turns upwards, light slowly returning to his eyes, and you just keep going. 

“They have to be in special cases when in captivity, cause otherwise they’ll break out. Did you know that they can punch so fast that they boil the water around them? And they do this totally naturally. They evolved to be able to do that. What kind of predators do these things have?” 

“All Might…” His voice is hoarse. “Apparently.”

You grin at him, snickering a little. He lets out a huff of air, something similar to a laugh but not quite. 

“The shrimp would win,” He says.

“Oh, one hundred percent.” Now you’re both laughing, really, properly laughing. His shoulders hunch, head dropped down, but his torso shakes with his amusement nonetheless. 

You take a breath, calming yourself a bit and observing your partner. His breathing was still a bit labored, and his eyes still had a faraway look to them, but he seemed to be back in the here and now, at least for the moment. Whatever had triggered his episode, whether it had been the argument, him pushing you over, or both, seems to have floated from his mind momentarily. You had no doubt you’d need to be prepared to talk him through it all once he was back to being fully himself. 

For a moment, you think you see who he could have been, if whatever had happened to him hadn’t happened. You could imagine him with brighter eyes, a bigger grin not suppressed by scars and staples. He was already perfect to you, but your heart ached for him. For the him that was lost to his past. 

“I love you,” You say. 

He looks at you for a long moment, his laughter dead in his chest. He pulls one hand away from your chest, and lifts it to caress your face. His thumb runs a soothing line along your cheekbone, twitching a bit when he spots the drying blood he’s accidentally rubbing into your skin. 

“I know,” He mumbles.

You want to crack a joke at him, but it doesn’t come out. Instead, the tears return, this time spilling over your lashes and soaking your face. There was such a finality in his tone, one that made you think that maybe this was all real, that he wasn’t lying, and he really was going to leave and never come back. You can feel your heart shattering with every second he doesn’t say anything else, with every second he just holds you in his hand and watches you cry. 

He couldn’t do this to you, not after all the endless nights and early mornings. Not after all the hours spent with his body connected to yours, branding you from the inside as his. He couldn’t just break you after he’d finally put you back together. 

You push his hand away and wipe at your eyes, trying your hardest to control your breathing and calm down. You had to finish this conversation calmly, you had to make sure he was okay. It felt horribly selfish to sob like this after he’d just been the one in a full blown panic attack. You needed to stop, to stifle your emotions until he left so that his last memory of you wasn’t this. 

“Are you…are you okay, now?” You ask with a shaky voice. This was probably the calmest you were going to be at the moment. 

“Yeah, baby, I’m good,” He says.

The world feels like it’s tilted sideways, nothing going the way you wanted it to. You were supposed to be having dinner, curled on your couch next to the man you adored more than you ever thought you could. He’s supposed to have an arm draped around you, not quite holding you but still keeping you close to him. There is supposed to be a shitty movie playing on the TV that the two of you make fun of together between idle kisses and steamy touches. It wasn’t fair.

“I love you,” You can’t stop yourself. “So much.” . 

“I know, baby,” He repeats his own words, reaching to brush hair from your tear-soaked face. He looks like he wants to say something else, but his jaw clenches, silencing himself before he lets whatever it is spill from his lips. 

So the two of you sit on the floor of your apartment in heavy silence. 

Your ankle throbs under you, reminding you of the tumble you’d taken just a moment ago. That seemed to be what had set him off, the more you think about it. He’d been calm when informing you that he was leaving you, and even when you argued with him about it. But it had been when he pushed you, and you got hurt, that he’d crumpled. 

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” You manage to mumble. 

“You didn’t,” He says just as softly, and you know from the look on his face that he’s not talking about his panic attack. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Can you just make something up?” You know you sound pathetic, pleading with him like this, but you can’t help it. “Please, I don’t care if it’s something stupid. I just…I need to know that you have a reason for leaving. Something I can be mad about so this doesn’t hurt so much!” 

He sighs your name with a shake of his head. 

“I can’t.”

“Hah…” You shift and stand, trying not to put too much weight on your injured foot. “What was it you were saying to me earlier? That we don’t fit? Is that really what you want to stick with? What you want me to remember?” 

“What do you want me to say?” He asks, standing now as well. 

“Anything!” You yell, throwing your hands in the air. 

“Like what?!” He yells back, taking a step towards you, invading your space. 

“Tell me that I’m annoying! Tell me that I talk too much, or that I’m messy, or stupid! Lie to me! Or be honest and tell me that you don’t love me!” 

You think he’s stopped breathing, you’ve never seen him so still. It feels like standing in a silent forest, horrible and unnatural and frightening. 

“Is that…what you think?” His voice is low, almost deadly. “You seriously think. That I’m doing this because I don’t love you?” 

“Unless you tell me otherwise, then-”

“Are you stupid?” 

The sudden, vicious anger in his words startles you, all words dying on your tongue as you just stare at him in surprise, your own frustration burning through your body. What gave him the right to sound like that when he was the one who started all this? 

You start to say his name, but one of his hands flies up to cover your mouth, just like he’d done when you’d babbled at him on the first night you met. 

“I’m doing this because I love you. Because being with me is dangerous for you, and I can’t fucking sleep at night anymore thinking about what could happen if someone finds out about you. It’s bad enough that heroes have been sniffing around this neighborhood recently, but if another villain gets their hands on you? Because of me?”

With his hand over your mouth, you can’t say anything. Though, even if you were free to, you’re not sure how you’d even respond to him at all. 

“You make me want to give up on everything. And I swear, if you asked, I’d do it. I’d give up on the revenge that I rightfully fucking deserve just to make you happy, because I can’t stand the idea that what I do could make you miserable.” 

His breathing is hard and angry, eyes wide and wild, and yet not for a single moment do you worry that he could hurt you. He’d scared you for a moment, sure, but now that you were really processing his words, you realize you had no reason to feel that way. He wasn’t angry with you. He hasn’t been this whole time. 

You lift your hands to gently take hold of his wrist, tugging on him to signal that you wanted to speak. His eyes narrow at you, but he allows his palm to be pried from your mouth, and moved to press into your cheek. You make him stand like that for a long time, letting yourself just digest everything he’s said. 

There were a hundred and one things you could say in response to him, but none of them really felt right. Telling him you loved him wouldn’t do much, telling him you understood would be a lie. Allowing him to leave was a big no-go, but brushing this all under the rug felt even worse. When you finally settle on what to say, you’re careful to do it slowly.

“You know…I don’t know that much about you,” You say. “I don’t know why your revenge is so important, I don’t know what kind of people you deal with or have made angry that might try to hurt me. And I don’t know why you pushing me over sent you so over the edge.” 

You look up at him, letting go of his wrist in favor of reaching for his face, to caress it the way he stayed caressing yours. 

“But, I still want you here. I want to love and be loved by you, regardless of if it means that I have to be a little extra vigilant. I don’t care if I have to practice what to say if a hero comes to the door, I don’t care if I have to be ready to jump out the window with you because you need to run and you don’t want to leave me behind. You being a villain, and having enemies, all that doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that you come home at night, that you remember things about me when I tell them to you, even in passing, and that you’re alive. You don’t even have to be safe, if you can’t promise that. Just come home with enough pieces that I can put you back together.” 

He huffs, pulling away but not too far, and covers his face. His shoulders shake and it takes you a moment to realize he’s laughing at you. Your face flushes, a touch of embarrassment making you anxious and antsy. 

Then, he mumbles something. 

“Wh-what?” You ask.

“I can’t cry,” His voice is soft, muffled by his hands but now just loud enough to hear. 

“Huh…?” 

“My face is too fucked up.” 

“Your face isn’t…it’s not-” 

“Baby,” He drops his hands, looking at you with tired eyes and a lopsided grin. “I know what I look like.” 

You let his self deprecating comment slide, just this once. 

“Do you want to cry?” You ask, instead. 

“Right now? A little bit.” 

You pull him impossibly close, one arm around his neck, hand petting the back of his head, the other up under his arm to grip his shoulder from behind. He buries his face into your neck, arms wrapping around you as tightly as he could without hurting you, and the two of you just stand like that for a while. 

You hiss involuntarily when he leans on you a little too hard, your ankle protesting the extra weight. The sound has him jerking away, eyes wide and full of worry. His expression was so foreign to you it was almost laughable. But it was honest, that much you knew. 

“I’m okay,” You say. “I think I rolled my ankle when I fell-” 

“Fuck, baby, I-” He cuts himself off, taking a breath before continuing. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“I know,” You say. 

“Let me look at it.” 

You let him lead you to the couch and sit you down, kneeling at your feet so that he can take the injured one into his hands. He bends and twists it slowly, gauging your reactions, muttering soft apologies every time you wince or let out a pained noise. 

“Should ice it,” He says. “Prop it up, don’t use it for a couple days.”

“Yes sir,” You can’t stop yourself from teasing him a bit, grinning ear to ear when he levels you with a dangerous look. 

“Watch it, baby. I just narrowly avoided losing you. I’m wound up enough.” 

“Oh?” You lean forward a bit. “I think we’re both a little wound up.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

He gathers you in his arms and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you squealing and laughing into the bedroom, where he dumps you on the mattress and follows quickly after. He spends the rest of the night kissing you all over, hands refamiliarizing themselves with your body. His teeth leave marks along your shoulder and chest, and the wall ends up with a burn mark from him getting a little too excited. 

This was how things should be.

-

He’s always awake before you, but this was the first time he really laid here like this, looking at you. He watched as the first rays of sunlight stream through the tiny gap in the curtains, illuminating your face in a way he’s sure he’s never seen before. He traces a finger along your features, smiling a bit to himself when your eyebrows furrow, but you don’t wake. 

He, admittedly, feels bad for taking you to bed and being so rough when you were already hurt. He also never explained to you why him hurting you affected him so. To be fair, he hadn’t realized that something like that could bother him. Not after all the people he’d hurt and killed over the past several years. 

But seeing you on the floor, because of him? Hurt by his hands? It had made him feel disgusting, like a monster. It was that moment that he realized that he really was as bad as he’d told himself he was. That everyone told him he was. Everyone but you, that is. 

It cemented in him that his revenge couldn’t be put on hold, because if anyone took you away, it would be his father.

“You have no idea,” He whispers to your sleeping form. “What I’d do for you.” 

You let out a soft, sleepy hum. His first sign that you were really starting to wake up.

“Do you even realize what I would do to this fucking country if I lost you?” He keeps his voice low. “There wouldn’t be anything left. I’d burn it. Do you understand? I’d burn the whole fucking world to ashes, and no one would be able to stop me.”

“Promise?” One eye cracks open, and he’s honestly not sure you actually heart the whole of what he’s said, nor does he think you understood in your mostly-asleep state. 

“Cross my heart, baby.” 

You sigh, giving him another happy, sleepy little hum, and snuggle closer to him. 

“I love you,” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head. 

“Mm…I know.”

Touya Todoroki has a breeding kink and literally no one can change my mind thank you goodbye

Beginning Nights now on AO3

Dabi x Reader MDNI

Enjoy the preview:

God this sucks. You were cold, wet, and miserable, but as your gaze catches another lonely soul making his own march in the rain, you’re at least glad you’re not the only one. All you can see is the back of him, but he gives you something new to look at. 

He’s tall, even with his shoulders hunched, head dipped down to keep the rain from falling off the hood covering his hair and getting all in his face. His coat looked tattered, but serviceable, and there was no way in hell his socks weren’t as wet as yours were, even with the thick boots he wore. Something about him stirs your heart, even if you can’t see his face, or any of his features. You wonder if it’s just your own want to not be alone anymore today that has you speeding up a little, hoping to catch the only other figure walking the rainy streets. 

As you get closer, a part of you warns that this person could be a villain. That he could hurt or kill you for getting too close to him. But another part of you just doesn’t care. After the day you’ve had, death would just be a welcome change. At least then you’d get to either go to the afterlife, or start over fresh, rather than be stuck in misery. Besides, even villains have shitty days, and maybe you’ll get lucky and he won’t mind you bothering him for a few minutes. 

His eyes are on you the moment you finally catch up to him, sharp blue irises somehow both icy and burning all at once. You don’t say anything, trying instead to look as casual as possible, instead of like a crazy person who’d just chased him down just for a modicum of company. But the longer you’re silent, the harder it gets to even try to speak up. Especially now that you can actually sort of see him, and the recognition that settles in your gut has your tongue too heavy to move. 

All you really needed to see was the flash of metal and the scarring on his jaw to know who he was. You’d seen him all over the news for weeks, the image of his wild and wicked face had been burned into your memory by now. But for such a notorious villain, Dabi seemed…

Tired.

Just a taste of something

Dabi x Reader MDNI

You catch him out of the corner of your eye barely a breath before his hand slides around your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t threaten. He just holds it there, rubbing the column of your throat with his thumb lightly while staring down at you.

He tilts his head to the side when you stare up at him, lips slightly agape. His hand is cooler than it had been before; you think he must have taken a cold shower to soothe his constant feverishness. He doesn’t look angry, not in any way that makes you worry about him causing harm. But he does look annoyed, perhaps at being ignored for too long, almost like a cat.

“End the call.” His voice is too low to be caught by the microphone, the tone of it sending shivers down your spine. 

“I’ve gotta go,” You say immediately. 

“What? No, I’m not done-” The way Dabi’s eyes narrow tells you that he can hear your ex complaining from where he stands, still holding you by the neck. 

“I don’t care,” You pant, face burning red.

“Baby-” The hand around you twitches, fingers closing slightly to squeeze you ever so gently, fiery blue eyes narrowing even further. Dabi hadn’t liked hearing that word. 

You don’t say anything else, refusing to give any more attention to your ex when it was clearly aggravating the man in front of you. Instead, you just hang up and let your phone clatter to the floor, uncaring as to if the screen cracks. 

Dabi lets out a low hum, pleased, but doesn’t release you. He slides his hand up your throat to hold your jaw instead, tilting your head back slightly, humming again at how easily you let him handle you. 

“Boyfriend?” He asks, leaning down to ghost a kiss over your lips. 

“Ex,” Your panted correction earns a real kiss, his lips pressing firmly against yours. 

“Good. I don’t need the competition,” he murmurs.

You want to tell him that he has no competition; that your ex was your ex because he’d cheated and royally screwed any chance of recovering the relationship, but you’re not really sure Dabi cares. Not when he kisses you again, even harder this time, his hand falling from your jaw to join the other in grasping at your hips, pushing you backwards. You dare to reach for him, fingers finding purchase in the front of the borrowed t-shirt. You cling to him when the backs of your legs hit the arm of the couch, almost falling onto it. 

He tugs at your shirt with a mumbled demand to take it off, hands groping at your chest the moment you’re exposed to him. You hadn’t considered having company when you’d foregone the bra this morning, but you were happy you had. His palms are rough, staples scraping across your much softer skin. His touch has you panting, knees parting so that he can slide himself between them, pulling you both impossibly closer to each other. It would occur to you later, that he kissed you like he needed you to breathe. Like you were his only lifeline, and he had no plans of letting go any time soon. 

At the moment, however, you’re easily distracted.

He had been gone for almost three months. Doing who knows what, leaving you with nothing but a slowly dying promise that he’d return and it was slowly becoming clear that he’s likely never coming back. He’d left you. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in your life, that you’d find something that made you happy and eventually it would end or that person would leave.

Usually it was easy picking up the pieces, but this was entirely different; he hadn’t left any pieces shattered on the ground for you to pick up like you were so used to. No, instead he simply vanished and took every piece of you with him. It left you feeling numb, spending every night crying in the bed the two of you once shared, his presence leaving a lasting imprint in your home and inevitably in your soul and a bottle of whiskey clutched to your side. It didn’t make sense to you, things seemed so well and it left you wondering if something had happened to scare him away.

Your scarred partner was many things and it wasn’t that hard to imagine him up and leaving without a thought but he had promised and amongst the many things he was, a liar wasn't one of them. So why wasn’t he back? It was a question you’d often ask yourself late at night. 

He never did come back but staring down at his body at least you finally knew why.