Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Drabble/ tw: mentioning of Dabi using his quirk on someone
Notes : Why did he have to suffer so much? I love him
Divider by : @/saradika-graphics
Masterlist | Second Masterlist | Third Masterlist
If you’re dating Dabi, you’re not just lucky, you’re the luckiest.
Why, you might ask?
Because not only would he never betray you, he would betray the world for you.
The first time you realize it, is not during something big or dramatic, but rather quiet and almost insignificant.
It's a passing comment from someone who doesn’t know any better.
Someone who laughs a little too loudly, looks at you a little too long, and speaks your name like it’s something he's allowed to voice so casually.
It's someone you still, to this day, don't know if he was a civilian or a fellow villain.
Not that Dabi would give a damn either way.
When it happens, you don’t have time to react, but he does.
He doesn’t move at first, he doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t make a scene. He just watches, head barely tilted, and turquoise eyes faintly lit with something incomprehensible yet terrifying.
_ "Say that again, I dare you." he murmurs, deep voice turning even deeper.
The guy chuckles, oblivious to the hazardous consequences of his foolish behavior, "I was just.."
And he doesn’t get to finish..
Air changes, laughter dies, and heat manifests low and threatening, not enough to burn, but just enough to warn.
Dabi steps forward.. slow, deliberate, and utterly amused.
_ "Careful," he says, voice low, "you’re starting to sound like you’ve got a death wish." and it’s so casual it almost sounds like a joke.
Almost.
The man stumbles back, apology spilling out of his trembling lips in an unintelligible rush, and Dabi watches him for a moment longer, eyes half-lidded, before clicking his tongue.
_ "Pathetic."
And just like that, it ends as quickly as it has begun, with a searing blaze in the same mesmerizing color of his own eyes.
He turns away first, not at all intrigued by the life his power had taken. Like the whole incident had never been worth his time, and the corpse burning to a crisp was only an annoying insect to be squashed under his boot.
But when his hand finds yours, it lingers.. warm, steady, and certain.
You glance up at him, studying the sharp lines of his face, the stitched skin that pulls when he speaks, the bottomless ocean of his eyes that hide a thousand secrets from the world, but not from you, never from you.
_ "You didn’t have to do that," you say softly.
_ "Yeah," he mutters, "I did." and there is no hesitation or doubt.
_ "Why?" you ask, though already knowing the response, and for a moment he just stares at you, baffled, because why would you utter such a question when the answer is clear as day?
Regardless, he replies..
_ "Because," his gaze slips away, "you’re my girl."
It's simple and absolute, but then he adds before you can even react, "you should know by now that I don’t let assholes like him talk to you however they want."
Your pulse stutters and breath hitches for a split second, but you don't let it end there, "and if they do?"
_ "Then they learn." and that amused smirk you so much adore, appears again.. thin, sharp, and promising hell to whoever dares cross that line.
Your hand tightens its hold on his scarred one, and the soft smile finding its way to your lips is a reflection of the warmth spreading through your chest, as if the man walking alongside you hadn't just casually threaten to burn the world for your sake.
And for a moment, for a brief peaceful moment in the chaos that is your lives, the world goes quiet again.
No lingering threats, no watching eyes, just the low hum of a dying lightbulb and the faint echo of a night that has finally settled.
Dabi sits slouched against the wall, one knee drawn up, the other stretched out languidly.
He hasn’t let go of your hand, not since earlier, not since you started walking away from the remaining bones and ashes, not since his fingers closed around yours and never quite loosened, and you notice it in the quiet surrounding you, in the way his grip isn’t tight, but unmistakably there.
Your thumb brushes lightly against his knuckles, almost absentmindedly, but not quite, and he stills.
For a second, you expect him to pull away, to retreat, to pretend it never happened, but he doesn’t.
His fingers shift instead, curling slightly more around yours.
You glance at him, but he’s not looking at you, his gaze is distant, unfocused, yet there’s no edge in him now, no tension in his shoulders, just stillness.
_ "You’re really quiet," you murmur.
_ "So are you." he replies.
His voice is rough as ever, but softer around the edges, like he didn’t bother sharpening it this time.
You lean your head against his shoulder, looking into the distance, and he tenses, but only for a moment.
Then slowly, he exhales, he relaxes, and his shoulder shifts just enough to make room for you, to make sure you're comfortable.
He’s learning, he's trying, and it's all for you..
Time passes in pleasant silence, where the only thing heard is the faint sounds of nocturnal creatures, and the low hum of that same dying lightbulb above.
Then his head tilts, barely noticeably, resting lightly against yours, so light it almost isn’t there.
But his hand tightens just a fraction, letting you know the gesture is intentional.
You don’t move, and neither does he, because this isn’t something he’d ever say out loud, not in words anyway, but in the absence of distance, in the quiet acceptance, and in the way he stays, like an anchor for you alone.
That’s his version of soft.. it's unspoken, unsteady, terrifying, but real.
And somehow, it means much more than it appears to be, because that’s the thing about loving Dabi, it's not gentle, it's not safe, but when he chooses you, even his quiet feels like an unbreakable vow.
I have a really bad cold at the moment. I need something loving, something sweet to survive...
Could you perhaps write something about how Dabi cares for his sick better half? I urgently need this.🤧🤒
His warmth - Dabi x Reader
A/N: hi, my love! I truly hope you start feeling better very soon
EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2
The first thing Dabi noticed was the silence.
Not the sort of quietness that curled around late afternoons when the sun slanted through the curtains of your tiny flat and dust particles drifted like slow-falling stars, but a heavy, stagnant quiet that clung to the air and dulled the edges of the room, as though the apartment itself had succumbed to illness and lay in wait for something to disturb its fevered stillness.
Dabi did not knock. He never did.
The lock yielded with a metallic click beneath his hand, and the door swung inward on a shallow sigh, allowing the night air to curl past him in a breath of winter chill before the warmth of his own body swallowed it whole.
He stepped inside, boots quiet against the floor, gaze already scanning the room with the sharp, habitual awareness of a man who trusted very little in this world except his own reflexes.
What he found was not dangerous. It was far worse.
The coffee table had been overrun by crumpled tissues, pill blister packs half-emptied and discarded without care, a mug stained at the rim with the ghost of long-cooled tea, and beside the couch lay the fallen remains of a blanket dragged hastily from the bedroom and abandoned halfway to its destination, as though strength had given out before the journey was complete.
And there…
Curled upon the sofa like a wilted flower deprived of sunlight - were you.
Another, thinner blanket had been wrapped around your frame in a manner that spoke of self-preservation rather than comfort, drawn high beneath your chin, while your favourite plush rabbit - ears bent, one seam slightly frayed from years of affection - was clutched against your chest with a desperation that would have been almost comical under any other circumstance. Your cheeks burned an unnatural shade of pink, your lashes clung together in damp clusters, and every breath that left your parted lips carried the faint, congested rasp of lungs struggling against their own rebellion.
For a moment, Dabi did not move.
Something in his chest tightened; it was not the familiar coil of irritation or disdain, but a quieter, more treacherous sensation that made his fingers twitch at his sides.
“…What the hell,” he muttered under his breath, though the words lacked their usual bite.
With a low click of his tongue at the sight of the battlefield your living room had become, Dabi moved swiftly and without commentary, sweeping tissues and empty blister packs from the floor and coffee table into a neat pile before vanishing into the kitchen to set the kettle on for your favourite tea; and when he pulled open the refrigerator only to be greeted by barren shelves and a tragic absence of anything resembling actual sustenance, he merely exhaled through his nose and made a quiet mental note to stop by the supermarket later, because clearly someone in this apartment was incapable of maintaining even the most basic reserves while running a fever.
Dabi stepped back into the living room, and his gaze immediately sought the small, bundled shape on the couch as his brow furrowed at the sight. “Y/N.”
Your head shifted sluggishly at the sound of his raspy voice, lashes fluttering as though each blink required deliberation, and when recognition dawned in your glassy irises, the relief that softened your features struck him with an intensity he had not anticipated.
“Touya…” The name slipped from your throat in a fragile murmur, thinned by fever and scraped raw by coughing, and he felt, with unwelcome clarity, how wrong it sounded reduced to that trembling thread.
He crossed the distance between you in three long strides, shrugging out of his coat and letting it fall wherever it pleased, attention already fixed on the way your fingers trembled against the plush fabric of the toy.
Dabi’s hand hovered near your forehead for the briefest second, as though uncertain whether the contact would shatter something delicate, before settling there with gentleness.
Scorching heat met his palm.
Dabi’s jaw tightened, stitches pulling faintly against scarred skin as he exhaled through his nose. “How long?” The question was hassle-free, and though the words were simple, the undercurrent of demand was softened by something that resembled concern far too closely to be dismissed.
“Since yesterday,” you managed, voice dissolving into a cough that bent you forward and wrung your body with sharp, painful tremors.
His arm slid around you before thought intervened, steadying your shaking shoulders with firm assurance while the other hand drifted to the center of your back, where he allowed a muted warmth to bloom - merely a steady heat designed to ease the constriction in your lungs and coax breath back into compliance.
The cough subsided gradually, leaving you slumped against him, exhausted by so small an effort.
“You should’ve called me,” Dabi said quietly, and though the reprimand lingered in the words, it lacked venom.
A faint smile ghosted across your lips despite the fever. “Didn’t want to bother you, Tou.”
He huffed softly, the sound half incredulous, half exasperated. “You think you are a bother?”
There was something almost dangerous in the way he asked it - incredulity that you would ever place yourself in a category so trivial.
Without waiting for an answer, the white-haired man adjusted his hold, sliding one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back, lifting you from the couch with careful ease. The blanket trailed after you like a reluctant shadow as he settled back down, this time with you resting fully against his chest, your head tucked beneath his chin as though the space had been designed for that purpose alone.
The plush rabbit remained squeezed tightly in your hand.
Todoroki’s fingers combed slowly through your hair, untangling the strands that clung damply to your temples, and with each measured stroke he allowed a controlled warmth to seep from his skin into yours, calibrating it with the focus of a craftsman intent on precision rather than excess. “You’re burning up,” he admitted.
From the kitchen came the muted sound of a kettle he had set to boil without ceremony, because even in moments such as this he retained the instinct to act rather than dwell. When it clicked off, he rose reluctantly, arranging the blanket around you with surprising care before disappearing briefly to prepare something warm enough to soothe your exhausted soul.
He returned with tea and medicine he found in a cabinet, coaxing you upright with one arm braced securely behind you, his other hand guiding the cup to your lips while his turquoise irises remained fixed on the subtle shifts of your expression, attentive in a way no one had ever witnessed from him.
“Slowly,” he instructed, voice low and steady, as though speaking too loudly might fracture the fragile calm he was constructing around you.
You obeyed, swallowing obediently despite the way your eyes drooped with exhaustion, and when a drop of tea escaped the corner of your mouth, he wiped it away with the edge of his thumb before you could even attempt to apologize.
“There,” he praised.
When at last you sagged against him again, surrendering to the heaviness behind your eyes, he shifted so that you lay sprawled across him fully, one of his hands resting protectively at the small of your back while the other continued its unhurried journey through your hair.
Outside, the wind pressed faintly against the windows, but inside there was only the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear and the measured rise and fall of your breathing as you gradually eased.
“You’re not allowed to scare me like that,” he claimed after a while, though you were already half-asleep and unlikely to register the confession hidden within the complaint.
A faint hum of acknowledgment escaped you regardless, and the corner of his mouth lifted in response.
Dabi adjusted the blanket once more, ensuring it covered you both, and lowered his face to press a lingering kiss against your fever-warmed temple.
“Rest, princess,” he murmured into your hair, voice stripped of its usual edge. “I’ve got you.”
He did not move; not when your breathing softened into the steady rhythm of true sleep, nor when your fingers slipped from the plushie and curled instinctively into the fabric of his shirt, clutching him as though anchoring yourself to something solid even within your dreams. The hours stretched long and hushed around you both, yet Dabi remained exactly where he was, because in that moment there existed nowhere else he intended to be.
I don't expect anyone to find this. Just...needed some mental silence lol.
I love the crispy bastard so much
You blink awake, limbs heavy with the weighted blanket of a restful, dreamless sleep. You're flopped on your sofa, lying on your back. An arm dangling over the edge yet unable to bend because your elbow is on the cushion, hair messily fanned around on the armrest, not having bothered to crawl to bed after finishing your book. A familiar head of white, fluffy disarray lies on your chest, his vivid blue eyes closed, soft, deep, heavy breaths fluttering against your baggy shirt. Even in his sleep, he shifts his hand slightly, periodically, from where it rests underneath you; between your lower back and the sofa, rubbing softly over the skin revealed. Thunder rumbles in the background, the low hanging lamp bathing the room in a dark, warm orangy gold.
Imagine doing domestic stuff with your boyfriend Touya—him in his comfy clothes and white hair unkempt but still looked neat and fluffy, one hand lazily stuffed in his pocket, the other pushing the cart as you filled it from your long list of thing to buy. You were doing emergency grocery shopping since you both were running out of food because the guy just consumed 2 weeks worth of food in 3 days. You took care of the list while your boyfriend just followed your footsteps, pausing and watching as you grabbed cereals, snacks, and canned foods, him also adding a few of his wants. Also vegetables and fruits too.
Poor guy just turned away for one sec and poof, his girl was gone. Had to kept calm and reassured his beating heart that you're just in the chocolates section—but after checking out all possible places of your whereabouts, he found you in the one aisle he never thought you'd be.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Touya trusts you. He's not the blantantly jealous type. Never asks who you're going out with but you still tell him anyway. Always tells you who he's hanging out with when he's the one leaving. Also doesn't mind or prohibit you from wearing anything sexy or too short. He even likes it when you show off your fits and he'd be so proud of having such a beautiful girl like you in his arms when you're out partying or dating. It's the guys that are the ones he doesn't trust.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
You'd be fitting your clothes inside the fitting room, your boyfriend patiently waiting outside, mans spreading so wide anyone would wonder if there's smthn huge in between his legs—there is, from the way he is seated. He'd eventually roam around the store to look for more dresses that would look gorgeous on you—most of your fits are due to his fabulous fashion sense, btw.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Touya got so accustomed to the way you smell, he'd always notice it when you buy a new perfume, use a different fabcon in washing your clothes, or using a new lotion. So when you bought this shampoo and body wash that was popular and you really liked—guy went crazy about it. Always nuzzling your neck any chance he gets, teasingly smelling your armpits that would earn a shriek and reprimand from you, burying his face into your hair when you cuddle, or plants kisses on your skin cause you smell so fucking good. It's like those new product you're using contains pheromones or smthn. He's also gotten even more touchy and more clingy than usual.
When he visits or does sleep overs at your place, he uses your body wash and shampoo everytime, even a lil too much. In addition, he likes to make sure of things. Double, tripling checking stuff. Especially since he wanna make sure he sees the label on the product with his own two eyes. Wink wink
─ .✦ (0.8k) when you bring home a stray kitten, dabi is deeply, profoundly opposed. unfortunately for him, you refuse to throw the little fur baby away.
(spoiler; you end up keeping it)
tags: talk of villains, dabi hates the cat but folds, humor and fluff, suggestive language, dabi is grumpy, reader wins every argument.
· ─ ⋆⋅✶⋅⋆ ─ ·
“We’re not keepin’ that thing.”
You stop dead in the doorway.
Rain drips off your hair and down your jacket, puddling onto the floor, but you barely notice because you are too busy clutching the tiny calico kitten tighter to your chest and staring at your boyfriend like he just personally insulted you (which he basically just did).
Your bottom lip juts out immediately, dramatic and practiced, chin tipping down as you look up at him through your lashes.
“But why,” you whine, hugging the kitten closer. She lets out a small, confused mrrp and presses her face into your collarbone.
Dabi doesn’t move from where he is leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, expression flat and unimpressed. His eyes flick from your soaked clothes, to the water dripping onto the floor, to the very obvious trail of pet store bags you have already scattered across the living room.
“We’re not keepin’ it,” he repeats firmly.
You pout harder, shoulders hunching protectively around the kitten. “But whyyyyyy,” you drag out, voice wobbling.
“Look at her, Dabi. Look at her. She’s so so so cute and she was all alone on the street and she was shivering and I’m definitely not leaving her there, so please.”
You lift the kitten a little higher like she is evidence.
You have already decided her name is Biscuit, because she is small and warm and soft and looks exactly like something that should be wrapped in a napkin and cherished. Dabi, on the other hand, looks like a man standing in the middle of his own personal hell.
He exhales through his nose and drags a hand down his face, scarred skin pulling tight under his fingers. He just got back from a long day, consisting of doing way too many horrid things to be faced with this innocent looking thing.
He doesn’t even know what to be pissed at first.
Whether it’s your clothes that are completely soaked, rainwater dripping off you and onto the floor like you tracked half the street inside. Or the fact that his couch (there is actually only one couch in your apartment, but he’s just being dramatic) is now covered in a small mountain of cat supplies.
Or frankly, his biggest current dilemma; the fucking cat itself.
“Get that thing’s rubbish off my couch,” he mutters, eyes narrowing.
“Do not call it a thing!” you snap immediately, bristling as you turn your body slightly away from him, shielding the kitten. “It’s a she, and her name is Biscuit.”
Dabi clicks his tongue. “We are not namin’ it, doll,” he says flatly. “’Cause we are not gonna keep it.”
You gape at him. “Excuse you, she already has a name and I’ve got her supplies and stuff to live with us.”
He pushes himself off the counter and gestures vaguely around the apartment. “It’s bad enough I gotta share this place with the millions of pink plushies and stupid little figurines you own—”
“But you agreed I could have my own side!” you interrupt, pointing accusingly toward the shelves you meticulously claimed months ago.
“—and now I gotta share it with a fur covered thing that eats, shits, and sleeps all day. Yeah, fuck no.”
You scowl. “Dabiiii.”
Right on cue, Biscuit lets out a tiny meow, pathetic in the most devastating way.
Something ugly and unfamiliar twists in Dabi’s chest.
Shit, and hereee it goes—
“Oh my god,” you whisper dramatically, eyes flicking between him and the kitten. “Did you hear that? Did you hear her? She is so cute, oh my—we have to keep her!” your eyes shine with so much adoration and love it makes his heart twist in a way more pathetic than that meow.
“Tch,” he mutters, jaw tightening.
“Dabi,” you say, voice immediately going soft and pleading. “Can we keep her? Please please please please—”
He sighs, long and tired, shoulders slumping just a little. “Whatever,” he mutters. “I’ll see if we can keep the ugly thing.”
You squeal and step forward, immediately pressing a kiss to his cheek before he can react. “So, that’s a yes,” you declare triumphantly.
“That is not a yes,” he snaps, pointing at you. “That is a maybe, and I swear to god if it scratches me or shits on my pillow it’s gonna end up burnt to a crisp.”
You nod eagerly. “Of course. Totally! Biscuit would never.”
The kitten meows again, loud and pleased, curling tighter into your arms.
Dabi glances down at her, lips twitching despite himself.
“Ugly rat,” he mutters fondly, and pretends very hard that the sound didn’t just punch straight through his scarred, stupid heart.
from Dabi Tattoo AU (<- MDNI)
fluff
This gift is small, but a lot of attention went into hand drawing designs all over the plain kraft paper. When you shake it, a faint tune plays.
from the prompt "a song that brings up memories"
wc: 255
The shop is empty, surprising no one. It's the day after Christmas and not many people are looking to get a walk-in tattoo. Most of your coworkers gave up and went home. So, it's just you and Dabi. A faint dusting of snow piles against the window, but the song playing brings you back to summer.
"I can't believe this is on your most played from this year," Dabi says. The two of you made a deal when you opened this morning — each of you would let your most played playlist run through without skipping. He started, now it's your turn.
The first few songs were good. Nothing too exciting, but not embarrassing. Then this one came on.
It sounds like sunny days and dreamy nights. Like spending all day with Dabi when the two of you were together, or something close to it. Your mind slips off into nostalgia. Thoughts of when you were blasting this in his car. The time the two of you stayed up all night to watch the sunset.
You catch yourself smiling and quickly busy yourself with adjusting the already squared frames on the wall. When you look up, he's smiling too. Probably revisiting the same memories. It was a great summer, but like everything it came to an end.
Sometimes you wonder if it has to be this way. Given the way he's looking at you right now, as if you're the only thing in the world that matters, you get the feeling it could be more.
Warning + Tags: Soft Dabi | Possessive/Clingy Behavior | Domesticity | Minor Violence (Threats) | Mild Language
The League of Villains headquarters was rarely quiet, but tonight it held a heavy, humid sort of silence that only comes with a summer storm brewing outside. The air conditioning in the crusty warehouse was struggling, and the flickering fluorescent lights hummed a low, hypnotic tune.
Dabi was sprawled across the sofa in the common area, his long legs draped over the armrest. He looked like he’d been poured there, languid, dangerous, and utterly bored.
That was, until you walked into the room.
The moment you settled onto the cushion beside him, his heavy-lidded gaze flickered toward you.
He didn’t say a word, but the corner of his stapled lips quirked upward just a fraction.
Before you could even reach for the book you’d left on the coffee table, a large, scarred hand snaked around your waist and hauled you backward.
You let out a small "oomph" as you were pulled flush against his chest.
Dabi wasn't just being affectionate; he was being a tether.
He tucked his chin into the crook of your neck, the cool metal of his staples pressing against your skin, providing a sharp contrast to the unnatural heat radiating from his body.
"You're late," he mumbled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that rattled right through your bones.
You let out a soft laugh, leaning back into him. "I was only gone for twenty minutes, Dabi. Shigaraki needed help with the supply inventory."
"Twenty minutes too long," he retorted, his grip tightening. He began to nuzzle into your hair, inhaling deeply.
He smelled like ozone, expensive cologne, and just a hint of woodsmoke. It was a scent that had become your version of home.
He started to tease you then, his nimble fingers tracing light, nonsensical patterns over your ribs, dancing just at the edge of where he knew you were ticklish.
You squirmed, trying to swat his hands away, but he was like an octopus, limbs everywhere, pinning you down with the lazy ease of a predator who knew his prey wasn't actually trying to escape.
"Stop it," you giggled, your breath hitching as his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot. "I thought you were tired."
"I am," he drawled, his breath hot against your ear. "Exhausted. That's why you have to stay right here. You’re my pillow now. It’s a very important job. Very high stakes."
He shifted, sliding down until his head was resting in your lap. He looked up at you, his turquoise eyes glowing with a soft, mischievous light that he only ever showed when the two of you were alone.
He reached up, his thumb tracing the line of your lower lip, his expression softening into something so tender it felt like a secret.
"Look at you," he whispered, his voice losing its edge. "All soft and worried about a guy like me. You’re pathetic, doll."
"And yet, you're the one who won't let me go," you countered, running your fingers through his messy, coal-black hair.
Dabi hummed, a sound of pure contentment, and closed his eyes. He grabbed one of your hands and pressed a lingering, heated kiss to your palm, his staples grazing your skin in a way that felt more like a caress than a threat. He didn't just want you near; he wanted to be absorbed by you.
He was clingy in a way that felt desperate and devoted all at once, a man who lived in the dark finally finding a sun he could actually touch without burning.
"Stay," he commanded, though it sounded more like a plea. "Don't move until the sun comes up."
You smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, right between the scars. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere."
He let out a long, shaky exhale, his body finally going limp with total relaxation as he draped his heavy arm across your legs, anchoring you to him.
In the dim, gritty light of the LOV hideout, surrounded by chaos and villains, Dabi fell asleep with a small, genuine smile on his face, holding onto you like you were the only real thing left in the world.
The sun hadn't quite cleared the horizon when the heavy metal door of the common room creaked open, the rusted hinges let out a high-pitched whine that sounded like a dying bird.
Toga was the first one through, skipping with an energy that felt offensive for five in the morning.
She stopped mid-skip, her golden eyes widening as she took in the sight on the sofa.
Right behind her, Twice stumbled in, mid-sentence about how much he hated mornings or loved them, it was hard to tell, before he, too, froze in his tracks.
The sight was something none of them were prepared for.
Dabi, the man who usually looked like he’d set the world on fire just to watch it glow, was utterly incapacitated by sleep.
He was draped over you like a giant, protective shadow.
His face was buried in the crook of your neck, one hand still fisted firmly in the fabric of your shirt as if he were afraid you might evaporate if he let go.
You were pinned beneath his dead weight, blinking sleepily at the newcomers, your hand still resting habitually in his dark hair.
"Oh my god," Toga whispered, her voice uncharacteristically high and delighted. She fumbled for her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. "He looks so... squishy. I didn't think Dabi could do 'squishy.'"
"It’s disgusting! I want a turn!" Twice hissed, leaning over Toga’s shoulder to get a better look. "He looks so peaceful. He looks like a serial killer having a nap!"
The muffled voices and the shutter sound of Toga’s camera finally reached Dabi.
You felt him stiffen first, his muscles coiling under your touch.
He didn't jump or startle, Dabi didn't do anything that looked panicked but his eyes snapped open, sharp and lethal.
The soft, turquoise glow you’d seen last night was replaced by a cold, narrow glare as he realized you were being watched.
He didn't move away from you, though.
If anything, he tightened his hold, pulling you back against his chest and burying his face deeper into your shoulder for a second, letting out a long, frustrated groan that vibrated through your entire body.
"Get out," he rasped, his voice thick with sleep and irritation.
"Make us, Patchwork!" Toga teased, dancing just out of reach as Dabi finally sat up, though he kept his arm draped heavily over your shoulders like a possessive mantel. "I’m sending this to Shigaraki. New wallpaper for everyone!"
Dabi’s hand ignited with a tiny, warning flicker of blue flame, the heat momentarily warming your cheek. "I will incinerate your phone, kid. And then I’ll do your hair."
"He's so cranky when he’s cuddly!" Twice shouted, retreating toward the kitchen. "He's adorable! I hate him!"
As they retreated, still whispering and giggling, the room fell back into a temporary, fragile quiet. Dabi didn't let go of you.
He dropped his head onto your shoulder again, his forehead resting against your skin.
The terrifying villain who had just threatened his teammates with third-degree burns let out a heavy sigh, his thumb beginning to rub small, rhythmic circles into your hip through your clothes.
"Go back to sleep, doll," he mumbled, his voice dropping back into that soft, private register meant only for you. "Ignore them. If they come back, I'll actually burn the building down this time."
He pulled the discarded blanket back over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders with a gentleness that would have shocked the rest of the League.
He wasn't ready to stop being "squishy" just yet, and as he settled back down, his breath hitting your neck in a steady, warm rhythm, it was clear he wasn't planning on letting you move for at least another three hours.
(This is for everyone grieving the ending of an era. MHA)
I know I haven’t posted on here in a long time. And to be honest, I probably will never post of here again. Not because I don’t love MHA, or Dabi, or anything like that.
I LOVE anime, and my favorite is MHA.
As we all know, it has come to an end. I will forever be hopeful that they continue with it… in SOME way. Since I know, just like me, that so many other people loved My Hero Academia.
The only reason why I’m even posting this is to share how sad I am because it is ending. I was wondering to myself if it’s normal to grieve an anime.
I’ve watched 40+ animes (yes I have a life, I just enjoy anime) and I’ve never been sad over an ending quite like I am with MHA. I started watching it in 2020 up until now.
To be honest, as much as I am grieving My Hero Academia, I am grieving the loss of the villains WAY more. How most of them ended up in the last season actually made me emotional.
And as much as I am grieving the villains I grew up with… I am grieving Dabi/Touya todoroki WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY more.
Is it okay to grieve a character?
I wonder as I post this. This is a personal opinion but I really do this Dabi is the best character I have ever found. Not saying this because of his looks or his va or anything of the sort. I really love how he is written and represented. He is easy to relate to on a deeper level. And he has ALWAYS been my favorite, ever since I started watching anime.
I will forever miss him❤️
He will always be nostalgic to me.
Anyone who is still a passionate writer on this app, unlike me, please keep writing!!
I don’t use this app anymore. I only use it if I want to read about Touya. Which stings a bit right now since the anime just ended.
I really hope the creators and writers of MHA can do a spin off where we see all the “what if’s” of things that could had happened. Mainly with a villains since most of the heros got an okay ending. And we saw all of those babies grow up! So proud of them.
I love Touya❤️
He will forever be a part of the things I like, and in my heart. He is a very special character to me who has always brought comfort to me.
This is in no way shape or form in an unhealthy, “I think he’s real” “I’m going to marry and be obsessed with a fictional character” type of way…
I’ve always known he is fictional!
But I do think it’s important to recognize things/animes/shows/characters that were apart of your growing up, and acknowledging your love for them. MHA was sometimes the only thing that made me smile. So I am so grateful for it.
I probably will never post on here again. Maybe I sound selfish but…no one posts on here anymore. Everytime I was to read something new I bump into the same olddd same old. So see ya!
I’ll still have this app so anyone can reach out to me. Please keep posting Touya/Dabi content. I am so grateful to all my comfort characters, and the most special one, Touya Todoroki.
Sorry for writing so much!
I hope other MHA fans can relate!
I will forever be a Touya Todoroki and Dabi lover!!Thank you to My Hero Academia for being so important to me and critical to my childhood!
Goodbye!!
Omg. My love, I will miss him so much.
“Whether you spend today laughing or crying, tomorrow will come all the same. In which case, we should laugh.”
