Dabi X SpookyQuirk!Reader'I Just Want You to Be Okay' (Part 3)
Another Oneshot!
You can find the other parts of this series in my directory: Link
Apparently, Dabi and SpookyQuirk!Reader live in my head rent free?
I think I'll continue to write them, at least until Halloween.
Who doesn't like a good slow-burn?
heh, get it?
Oh I know, let's play a game. It's called: 'How many oneshots can LS write to build romantic tension until the characters make kissy face!?'
...
Yeah I'll stop now. Please enjoy~
WARNINGS: MHA/BNHA SPOILERS!!! Mention of Blood, Injury, some trauma. FLUFF. SFW
━━━━━━━━━𝕯𝖆𝖇𝖎 ━━━━━━━━━
You had not been expecting a confessional today.
You both stood on a dock where the black water gently lapped at the posts, and the night sky was lit by an almost full moon.
You were both soaked to the bone. You were perched on a crate, something tied around your ankle which was still kind of bleeding. He was leaning, opposite you, against a guard rail.
Kurogiri had been injured and was still laid out, so you guys had to escape the hard way. In car, on foot, and then--in the ocean.
And, whew boy, you were pretty sure you had never been this tired in your life.
"That was.. Exciting." You remark, lifting your leg up to the top of the crate, tightening the useless bit of soaked cloth that was wrapped around it. A torn piece of fabric from Dabi's jacket.
He's glaring at you, and you know it. Even before you look up to match his stare.
"I can't believe you did that."
"...I was just trying to help--"
"You don't get to make decisions." He's pointing at you now, the staples near his wrist glinting in that bit of moonlight.
You close your mouth and swallow, jaw clenched. After a breath, "Fine, at least tell me what you were planning to do."
"That doesn't matter." He retorts, voice low, hand receding and then stuffed into his elbow as his arms cross. "What matters is you do as we say."
You shake your head, eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You act like I'm some kind of kidnapped little kid! Dabi; I've already made it very clear--I'm in this now." Your hand presses to your chest. "The others get it. They trust me, when they need to. I know I'm not that good at fighting, but I can--"
"It doesn't matter what you're good at, or how much they trust you. What matters, is if you get caught."
"Oh, so I should've just sat there? Let them take you?"
He's off the guard rail, nearing you at a blinding speed, a growl in his throat.
You desperately try grip unto your resolve, and try not to flinch when he's up in your face.
"You should never have been a part of the League."
And just as soon as he had come, he was gone. Striding off, stomping up the stairs.
Well that hurt..
Dread seeps into your chest. Honestly?
He was your main reason for wanting to stay.
"Oh, hell no." You leap down from the crate--immediately regret it because of your ankle--then go hobbling off after him.
You're surprised to find that he didn't go too far. He'd stopped and leant against a light post--but as he hears you coming, he starts walking again. He's avoiding you.
"Dabi," You hiss, quickening your uneven steps. It eases some of the anger to know he hadn't really left you--but he wasn't out of the woods yet.
"Ugh, Dabi just--" You can feel blood seeping into your shoe, and as it glides over the inner sole; your contact with it causes you to slip. You grunt, but manage to keep yourself upright after stumbling. Saved you a little bit of embarrassment, at least.
"Look, I'm sorry!" You call out. He stops, but doesn't look back at you.
You continue to hobble, but you stop before you reach him. Not only were you scared to see his face, but you really didn't want him to notice the desperation on yours. Specifically, the tears that threatened your outer vision.
"I was scared they were going to hurt you, so I acted--I acted selfishly, I acted against orders--but I just.." Your voice shakes a lot more than you want it to and goes into higher pitches without your permission. Emotion is choking you and you wish you knew why--It was overwhelmingly apparent that he had been gradually becoming more and more frustrated by your presence. You could literally see the color of frustration, in glowing angry orange, as it outlined his handsome features every time you had your quirk going, every time he was in the same room.
Handsome? Now is not the fucking time--
"You just what?" His voice reverberates through your body, the deep rasp of it making your breath hitch.
You were too tired to use your quirk. You couldn't gauge what emotions he was feeling. The fear keeps your mouth from moving, for a solid minute, and it's only when he's whirling on you with a crazed and angered expression that you finally release the tension--
"You just wh--"
"I just wanted you to be okay."
He's frozen for a moment. But only a moment--and then his teeth grind as he yowls; hands going into his hair and gripping his scalp. He's shaking, and you take an involuntary step back as he writhes almost like he's in pain.
"Dabi..?" You ask, concerned, panic rising in your chest.
"JUST STOP!" He screams, and from his hands--blue fire erupts.
The heat of it is staggering, and the thermal wind blows you back so your tailbone hits the pavement. You're up instantly, watching as cerulean flames engulf the overgrown decorative shrubbery--then, the abandoned car behind it. He stands in the middle while the violent torrents dance around him, and his eyes remain covered by his palms as he grips his skull.
Why.
If you had only said something selfish, something bratty--maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.
It would have been so easy to walk away, to ignore you, to begrudgingly tolerate your presence until he was back at the base where he could lock himself away in his room until he remembered all the why's he was there. What he was fighting for and about, and why you didn't fucking matter.
Yet now as he dares to find you in his vision, glimpsing your face through his fingers; he knows he can't.
You're bleeding.
You're scared.
And you fucking cared that he was okay.
The past few months had been torture. Ever since the jaunt to the cemetery, everyone had accepted you. He thought he could keep his distance, and hope that things would just.. go well for you. Instead, he found himself listening to your conversations with Toga and Compress, learning more about you indirectly.
He found himself wanting to know more about you.
Instead of drowning in liquor, he'd suffocate in his own bed, wondering about you and your life and your habits. Every time he thought his head was above the water, you somehow managed to drag him back down into the depths.
He kept replaying the moment when you had sung Happy Birthday to the dead boy.
He was angry to the point of combustion when you would come back with Twice, scrapes on your face and bandages around your arm.
He was the one that demanded you go with him on this assignment, rather than Mr. Compress--because he simply couldn't trust them to make sure you were safe. He couldn't read minds, but swore they treated you more as an amusing source of entertainment than a person. It scared him.
"I know I'm.. Kind of stupid." You continue talking, drawing his attention despite how much he didn't want you to. Your voice isn't loud, but he can hear it over the licks of the flames--and it earnestly surprises him when he notices you moving closer and not farther away.
"And I'm not good at anything. And I'm--" Come on, come on, something else... "I'm useless, I'm uncoordinated.." Your hands are up as your moving forward, shielding your face from the heat.
"...But I want to be here. I want to help, and be a part of this--I want to help you." You didn't know that last bit was going to slip out, but too late.
It's Touya that let's his arms fall to his sides; that lets the fires be tempered despite the emotions still raging inside. His eyes are boyish and sad as he watches you navigate the smoldering concrete until you're in front of him.
"And I know its selfish.." You even roll your eyes, your lips quivering into a smile. "But I've never felt like I belong the way I do when I'm around you."
Your throat tightens--
"--And them." Added, last minute, a little louder.
He's silent. Contemplating. Remembering.
The way his siblings had pushed him away when he was in pain. The way his mother refused to sympathize with his views. The way the people that should have loved him didn't even stand up for him, or put effort towards him when he needed it the most, because they were too afraid and self-concerned.
It's not about his father in that moment. It's about everything else.
It's about how different he might have been, if someone like you had just been there; to listen and encourage and understand and sing happy birthday like you meant it, instead of like you were being forced to.
It's the child of his soul, he realizes, that's reaching out for you. The boy that died on the hill. The ghost of who he was.
Maybe you were the only one that could see it. It was your quirk, after all.
"Dabi?"
Your question leaves him stranded back in the world of the living; eyes still dazed as he looks at you but beyond you. He blinks, body relaxing.
"...You aren't stupid." He says finally--and it's all gruff, like whatever that outburst was never happened.
"What?"
"Your ankle is bleeding." He says, matter-of-fact like, eyes now drifting towards the ground.
"...Ye-yeah, yeah it is--what are you..?" Your eyes follow him as he moves around to your side then lifts your arm, forcing you to bear some weight on him.
"You need to keep pressure off of it."
You stare at him, almost scared, as he starts to help you hobble away from the scene. "We better get out of here before someone notices.." He says, ignoring your big eyes and gaping mouth.
"...excuse me--what--What just--" Dabi never liked to be touched, so it takes some restraint to not prod at his shoulder. "You can't just--"
"You say 'just' a lot, did you know that?" He mutters, and there's a hint of a grin on his face. A grin!
You deadpan.
"...You are going to waltz every bit around what just happened, aren't you?" You ask, huffing when his only response is a 'hn.'
As the silence begins to set-in, so does the realization of how close he was. Of his own volition. Even when he'd offered to help 'bandage' your ankle, he hadn't more than grazed his fingertips across your skin--now his ribs met yours, and his hand was warm and firm against your waist. And, the other, wound around your wrist.
Suddenly, you are very hot. And it isn't the residual heat from his little inner existential crisis you were pretty sure he just had.
"At uhm. At least.. Are you still mad at me?" You ask, point blank, eyebrows tilted in as you sneak a look. "Do you still think I shouldn't be here?"
Dabi X SpookyQuirk!Reader "I Want to Know You" (Part 9)
I'm still behind at work, but I got hit with the itch so I stayed up stupid late to finish it oops
(This is also not proof read, so please forgive ;n;)
You can find the other parts of this series at my directory: LINK
It it isn't evident already, I'm not following any specific timeline here. I'm going with the flow, and writing what feels.. natural. And Good.
That said,
WARNINGS: SFW (but a little spicy early on, so rated TEEN), MHA manga/anime SPOILERS, spooky vibes, PTSD THEMES (very little)
"Hey."
The voice startles you, causing the sketchbook to snap against your legs as you look up to him.
"Woah, woah." Dabi offers you a broken and amused grin, "Does something have you spooked?"
Imagine that.
"Sorry," You straighten up and relax, "Didn't get as much sleep as I wanted. Put me a little on edge."
"Mm." His grin fades and you miss it already. "Is everything alright?"
His voice is more... threatening then sweet, and the tone matches the deadly look in his eyes. You realized then, with absolute certainty, you could name something or someone; and he would probably harm them for disturbing you.
Ironic, considering he was the culprit.
"Yeah, I'm good. I think it's just.." Your eyes catch on the staples next to his mouth, and they linger there before traveling along the puckered skin of his jaw and his chin. It's like a punch to the stomach, realizing you knew where those scars might have come from--and that you were still too scared to mention it.
He, on the other hand, interpreted your staring to mean something entirely different.
"Hn." A confident noise tumbles from his throat, and his lips are turning up into a grin again. As you open your mouth to continue verbalizing the same excuse you had given Kurogiri the night before, you find a finger being pressed to the ridge of your upper lip. Instinctively your mouth slams shut.
He leans forward, his free hand supporting his weight against the couch armrest while the other traces your cheek before he places it behind you. He's bent at the hip and looming, leaning, closer.
Your heart stutters.
"Am I the reason you can't sleep..?" He asks, breath fanning over your nose while his lidded eyes flicker between yours. When his gaze drops to your lips for a second, your breath catches in your throat--it was a full system malfunction. You felt as though he was lighting you on fire--except this felt really, really nice in comparison to the flames that engulfed you in those dreams.
Which, was barely more than a distant memory right now.
"Y-yes--I MEAN, no..?" You quickly re-learn how to force your body back to function, and try to look away from him so you can ground yourself. Your hands curl into your sketchbook; afraid to touch him. "It's not--just--I uh--"
"Shh, hey.." He leans more into the armrest and blocks out your vision again, "It's okay. I'm not going to push you into anything you don't want to do.." his features are softer, and it reminds you of laughing ghost children and how he tasted like cold seawater and smoke at the cemetery.
His constant misinterpretation of your reactions was both frustrating and intoxicating. Thank goodness the rest of the League was still conveniently elsewhere, or you would also be embarrassed.
"Although.." His voice drops, quieted by the proximity. "That look on your face.. makes it a little hard to resist."
Oh god--"D-Dabi, wait a second--"
"Hm..?" He hums inquisitively, innocently, still inching closer.
"There's something I need to discuss, we need to.. discuss.."
"Mmhm?" Darker, more purposeful.
"We.. I uhm.. Dream.."
"Yeah..?"
You could've said anything really. It wouldn't have mattered.
You were out of it, sucked into his gravity as his lips brushed against yours. Unlike the kiss out at the cemetery, this one was warm and coaxing. An invitation seemed to roll from him to you as his movements quickened, and you felt the cushion dip next to your thigh as he presses his knee unto it.
It felt dangerous.
It's like adrenaline running through his veins, but deeper. It's a compulsion he can't ignore--he can't be close enough. For so long, the scarring bothered him little. He didn't care how it looked or how it felt. But now, as you find some bravery in that caring and perfect vessel of a body to reach out and touch his face; he just wishes he could feel it better.
"Ugh, I'm starving.." "I'm barely hungry at all."
Your eyes fly open as a voice comes out from the hall going upstairs. Dabi grunts a sound of displeasure against you, giving just one more pull at your lips before he drags himself away. "Always something, huh..?" He whispers quietly, letting his disappointment show on his face before giving you a wink.
You're dazed, barely more sentient than jell-o after that charming wink; and you can't stop staring at the beautiful and boyish way his eyes light up afterwards. Wait.. shit, shit, shit! He's moving too slow!
"Huh?" Twice opens the door and catches Dabi still removing himself from the couch.
"Hey Twice."
"What was that?" Suddenly he smacks both hands to his cheeks, leaning forward. "OOOOooooh!" He begins pointing from Dabi to you and back again feverishly. "It finally happened?!"
Your eyes bulge and you slink further into the depths of the couch cushions. Dabi just straightens his stance and crosses his arms, unmoved. Damn him.
"What do you mean 'finally happened'?"
"You--and them!"
Dabi just shrugs his shoulders, "Yeah, what of it?"
Twice places his hands on his hips, "Hahhah! Knew it." "I didn't think it would happen."
Sobering quickly, you mentally groan. Realizing Dabi could manipulate you so easily was a little daunting. Hot, but daunting.
Their banter fades into the background while you contemplate how the hell to come back from that. You really needed to discuss those dreams with him, even if it meant ruining his earlier assumptions referring to you... thinking about him at night.
Not that you didn't think of him, but that sort of paled in comparison to dreaming of being burned alive on three different occasions. By his particular brand of fire.
"What do you say?"
"Hm?" You look up to Dabi as his voice interrupts your thoughts for the second time that morning.
"We're thinking about a quick brunch before Crusty gets back."
"Oh, sure."
------
"Sooo.." Twice leans in awkwardly against the low-sitting picnic table, his trench coat almost dusting his brunch. "Now that you can like, make them do things.. I mean can they hurt people?"
"I've never tried it." You say quietly, "They still have minds of their own. Asking them to just.. shank someone seems a little inappropriate."
Dabi chokes on his coffee, trying to stifle a laugh.
Twice bellows aloud, flamboyantly gesturing to the metal firebrand at your side. "Wow, you made him laugh! That's a superpower in and of itself!"
"Keep it down Twice, we can't afford to attract attention." He seethes in a hiss of a whisper, all but hiding his amusement behind the lip of his paper cup.
Aggressively overexaggerating his new instruction, Twice places a hand next to the area where his mouth should be and continued speaking in a very ragged whispering voice. "You do know we're villains right? We don't have to be appropriate! Just be yourself."
His words catch you off-guard.
Just be yourself.
You lean in, playing on his behavior, and whisper back. "Well considering they're dead and all, I kinda don't want to be mean to them, ya know?"
"Fair, fair." "That's a poor excuse."
Dabi feigns a little sigh, a hand bracing his temples as though he was exhausted by your little antics.
But the two of you only continue--within reason, and when no one was around.
Short-talk about big topics, mentions of other League members, the occasional scathing input from your partner; it was more an outing with friends than with co-workers. Pleasant, if unusual. You and Dabi were experts at deciphering Twice's mind-mangled speech, and had accepted it fully without judgement. His split personality was as mundane to you now, as the buttons on your coat or the label on Dabi's cup that said: Warning! Contains Hot Liquid.
By the time the three of you began walking back to the base, you had formed a stronger bond with Twice. Like you, he had been estranged by society--an unacceptable variant. Perhaps not for his quirk, but who he was internally; and like you, he searched for acceptance. A place to freely be himself.
It wasn't spelled out directly, but you picked it up throughout. If anything, being among the League had really improved your perception of people--and at one point, you had unabashedly used your quirk at his request. You'd left it on since, and allowed it to help you conform your responses. More out of politeness than being nosy.
Though, your sneaky glances at the man beside you were definitely nosy. It always made your insides flutter to find that edging of green jealousy in his aura. You made sure, in those moments, to shift a little closer or brush your elbow with his.
He seemed reluctant to initiate any public affections, but considering the kiss--kisses now, you suppose--and lack of having really placed a name on the relationship, you didn't want to rush it. In fact, you were quite content to just.. exist. Quiet moments like that at the cemetery and this little jaunt were rare, and you were sure that whatever Shigaraki had planned ahead would leave you wistful for these sacred hours of peace.
Don't ruin a good thing while you have it.
----
"Dabi, there's something I need to tell you."
You had no idea what kind of panic the simple sentence caused him.
Things had indeed turned bleak, just as you had expected. Now, the two of you sat high up overlooking battle-beaten sky-scrapers and damaged complexes. It'd been a blur--the three of you suddenly being called into action, as the League's mettle was once again tested.
Endeavor had been there.
"Yeah, what?"
There's venom in Dabi's voice, but it's half-hearted. His voice is ragged, and you can smell the taint of burnt flesh from where you sat beside him.
You couldn't hear what they were saying. The chaos was too loud.
You ran. You didn't know what it was you were running to do--you couldn't fight a pro-hero. You could barely fight at all. It made no sense! You knew that getting involved would make it worse, yet something within begged you to move. To stop him.
Stop who?
Your mind blanched at that.
Dabi stood several feet away from a pro-hero, Endeavor--Japan's Number Two Hero. There'd never been such a threat to his life in your presence. Most days, that raven-haired man seemed invincible. Unconcerned about death, even; like the reaper wouldn't dare to touch him until his work was done.
But now, all you could fathom was how you weren't ready to lose him. How you didn't know him, but you knew you loved him.
You couldn't get close enough, however, as Dabi sent out a spiral of azure flame that encased him and his adversary. Within inches of it, you lurch to a stop--the heat wave sending your mind rushing back to the visions within your dreams.
You were vibrating again. All over. You could hear the boy's voice in your head, you could feel the anger and resentment and sadness. It was like an overwhelming bass at a club, and it threatened to explode from the chasm of your chest.
"Dabi!" You scream, but the sound is blanketed by roaring fire. "Shit.."
Just when you thought your body might split in two from the intense vibration, you feel something intrude your mouth from the back of your throat. It's gross, but familiar--and then your vision is blackened by One for All's teleportation quirk.
Dabi's first instinct was to assume you were going to say something negative. It didn't matter what it was, really; anything could tip the scale for him at that moment. He'd been so close to his father--so close to ruining him--but also too far.
He knew it would have been a losing battle, but the disappointment still pisses him off.
Instead of seeking you, he had withdrawn. Once teleported to relative safety, he'd simply existed in your presence. You didn't know, still, who he was or what that conflict meant for him. And for once.. he almost wishes he had told you.
Then he wouldn't have to fear whatever it was you were about to say. How you regretted your decisions, or how you wanted to leave, or...
"I've... had some dreams recently." There hadn't been time for you to rehearse this, but it was happening now. You weren't going another minute without telling him, without at least some form of closure.
"Dreams?"
"Well, they're more than dreams. I think." You shift, marginally closer to him. The altitude caused a bit of wind to buffet through his and your hair. "I think they're visions. Something to do with my quirk, but I haven't been able to figure out how."
A weird thing to admit now, he thinks. His eyes dance over your face and shoulders, eyebrows slightly taught. "Why didn't you say anything before?"
"I was afraid."
"Why?"
"Because the visions are about you."
About him? "What do you mean?"
"I keep.. I go into it feeling.." You sigh, a little frustrated. "It's hard to explain. It starts with feeling as though I'm burning alive. It's all blue fire, I'm in these woods.. someone's supposed to be there, but they didn't come."
His breath catches. Hell, his whole body feels iced over.
Sure, you had a habit of surprising him with your quirk. You could see, speak, and manipulate ghosts of all things. But to see... his past? To experience his past? Did you fabricate this somehow?
You're too embarrassed to really notice his reaction, your head tilted away against your arm. "Obviously, I don't know. It could be nothing. But it's happened three times now and when you were fighting with.. It's like I was having the vision all over again."
You weren't fabricating it.
His chest heaves once, breathing out the air he'd held within. There's no use in hiding it now. Nor would questioning you or your abilities help anything--no one knew. And he didn't care. He didn't care how it worked or what it meant.
"He's my father."
"What?"
"Endeavor. Enji Todoroki." He says the name with wavering vocals, disgust tied to the way he pushes the words through his teeth. "My real name.. is Touya Todoroki."
With the fire-related quirks, that had been one of your guesses; and perhaps why mentioning Endeavor felt so weird around him.
"That fire happened when I was a kid. I wanted to show him how well I had developed my quirk." There's a flex in his face much like a snarl, his lip curling against the restraint of the staples in his cheek. "But of course, he didn't come. He had his new prodigy and I was.. obsolete."
Your hand reaches out then, touching his arm. His first instinct is to bat it away--to push off your sympathies and remind you he isn't weak. But you knew that. And your expression, he realizes upon glancing at your face, is more that of encouragement.
"Please tell me." You say, fingers tightening on that part of his sleeve.
Dabi X SpookyQuirk!Reader "A Familiar Face" (mini) Part 12
Another benefit from being a member of the League: knowing how to get around.
A new benefit of being a ghost? Not having to pay, hide, or sneak around. Or even use doors for that matter.
Yeah, fuck those doors.
Unfortunately, no amount of humorous mental glib was going to improve your situation, nor silence the hopeless voice in the back of your head.
Getting around certainly was easier, but you had honestly no idea where to begin looking. They weren't at the base, you knew that. But you weren't close enough with Shigaraki or his 'master' to know about any other secret villainous locations, aside from a warehouse that was raided--what, months ago now?
You wondered how they were doing. How Dabi was doing. From eavesdropping, you'd learned that everyone got away relatively safely; but surely once on the other side of Kurogiri's portal, Dabi would realize you were dead. Dead or something.
You stop along the sidewalk to look down at your transparent palms.
The thoughts that come are bombarding, squeezing in and vying for space against your mortal fears. Some thoughts, rarer than the others, begged to ask the question--why care?
Why care about life?
Why care about the world, when you're here with something so familiar?
…But like always, it's Dabi that pulls you back to the living.
You aren't sure if it was the image of his face in the cemetery before you kissed, or the crack in his voice when he bared himself to you on the roof top of a broken building--but somewhere, you found resolve.
"I want to know you." You say aloud, steeling yourself as you drop your hands and look forward. Something about the memories added a propulsion to your step, and you felt stronger.
You weren't going to accept death until you tried to live again first.
----
"This sounds like a really good plan." "This plan is insane."
Funny, Dabi thinks, For once, Twice is correct on both accounts.
Kurogiri had warp-gated him and Twice to the cemetery where you had practiced your quirk. He still carried you, despite how his burnt skin had remained unattended to. The others, whom admittedly were in worse shape, had gone on with Shigaraki to his contact so they might receive medical attention.
If Dabi's arms were sore, he couldn't feel it right now.
Among the gravestones though, he eventually lays you down before looking out over the field. Above, the sky turned amber as the sun began to set. Honestly, he figured the time of day had little to do with ghosts--but, he considered it good luck, since it was usually nighttime when you had interacted with them.
Thinking about you starts to chip away at his posture, and he has to swallow a lump in his throat as he rises back from the ground.
"Hey!" He starts, hands cupping his mouth. "Hey, you guys remember me right?"
Twice stares at him, as silence answers. He awkwardly glances down at your body then sharply looks away, feeling a twist in his chest.
"I'm talking to the ghosts of this cemetery!" He continues, "I… I really need your help! This person I was with, you remember?"
More silence.
"Yeah, the one that could interacted with you! The one that.. Let you throw things at me!" Emotion begins to pitch his voice. His resolve begins to slip, but he doesn't stop.
"They did something earlier, and I think… I think their soul is lost out there. With you guys! And, we need to bring it back--them back--so they can continue their life!"
"Please! Help me find Y/n!"
Twice looks out over the field, following Dabi's gaze as though hoping to see something. But there's nothing, all cold grass, dead leaves, and tall stones. He wants to hope--the urge to scream alongside his friend causing his knuckles to pop as he grips his own arms.
Dabi's heart thuds in his chest and his throat constricts. He tastes blood, and wipes at his mouth as the staples grow weak along his cheeks, weeping red from the freshly burnt skin. He takes a second to calm down, but Twice can hear his breathing as it grows labored.
"Please just.. I can't go looking for 'em. The area is roped off. Near the Central Park." He's quieter now, head bowing. "I know I don't deserve your help. But Y/n does. They've only ever been kind and helpful. It's only because of them I even know you're here." He chokes on it, coughing through wounded and smoke-filled lungs. "They're in this position because they helped Me. I wanna fix it, but I can't without your help...Please."
"Dabi.." Twice's voice, the lower pitched one, echoes concern as he calls out. He'd never seen this level of emotion from the man before--who was always so mellow, so guarded.
Ignoring him, Dabi lifts a hand and produces a small flame in his palm. "You remember me right? You remember this?"
He waves it in the air, blindly, hoping he was showing it to someone.
"I think Y/n's soul is out there, or spirit or--whatever--"
Twice realizes Dabi is repeating himself.
And he would. Dabi would repeat himself. Over and over, until his voice was hoarse, and the sky was obsidian. He plead and bargained for hours--sometimes asking for sign he knew he wouldn't receive. Only you could make the ghosts strong enough to do that.
----
"No."
"Not here."
"Didn't see anything."
You couldn't sigh like you would in your living body, but you still made a noise of frustration as you came to stand next to a fountain in the park. You had wondered allover the area, speaking to other ghosts on the street in the hopes one of them glanced the League and knew where they might be heading.
Without any luck in that regard, all that was left was to walk.
"Um, hey.."
You flinch, stuttering forward without sound and pressing your hands into the water of the fountain to catch yourself. You fall through it, and feel nothing. An oddly positive thing considering the circumstances. Turning to look back, it's..
A familiar face.
Not that you recalled a name for him, but it was the same teenager you had met at the cemetery. All long and lanky, tussled dark hair that hung in his face. There was a serious grunge phase a few decades ago…
"Oh. OH! Hi." You resettle, rising back up to standing and facing them fully. "It's nice seeing you again." Aside from the.. Being dead, maybe, part.
"…" He stares, awkwardly, head a little tilted so his bangs hang out of his eyes. After a few seconds of returning his gaze, you realize the dark of his irises were dilated pupils. Perhaps a sign of drug overdo--
Dabi X SpookyQuirk!Reader "I'm Not Giving Up on You" mini (Part 11)
Crap…
Crap crap crap crap--
You had literally just watched your body disappear through an untraceable warp gate. You were left on the broken, burnt remains of the street as nothing but a ghostly visage of your former living self.
Am I… dead?
Either way, you certainly weren't alive. The lack of breath, the lack of weight--was surprisingly pleasant? You shake your head, I don't have time to get confused right now.. I have to get back.
There's a nagging, persistent voice that asks 'why?', but you ignore it. You needed to get back to the League, of course. You needed to get back to Dabi, to your family. Even if I have to remain like this.
A quick glance at your surroundings and you find Endeavor on his knees several feet away, looking at the ground as blood pours from his face--his aura of navy and amber was thicker than before, almost liquid-like in the way it disperses through the ether around him. Police had started to enter the area, which was being blocked by yellow tape and orange cones. Other Heroes now filtered in behind them, and you step back as they approach Endeavor--despite knowing they couldn't touch you.
They too had thicker, more vibrant auras. A perk? You try to think positively.
You find yourself able to walk. It feels different, but it seemed your not-so-corporeal body was willing to follow instructions. Giving in to your curiosity, you draw a little closer to the heroes, and listen as they grimly begin to detail the situation to one another.
It was mostly to do with the ward being evacuated and how many civilians were injured--but all had survived. Surprising, considering the amount of destruction. Though, at least you knew, that it was never the intention of the League to just kill civilians. Even as the police and heroes like Gunhead continue to talk about the event like they had been a torrent of evil incarnate.
It makes you fume. It's even worse, watching their auras fluctuate, and it's all concern and truth.
They really believed you and the others were evil.
I have to get back.
You turn away from them, catching a lasting glimpse of a stone-silent Endeavor before you leave.
----
"Y/n's not dead."
Shigaraki and the others turn to look at a stoic-faced Dabi, who still held your corpse close to his chest.
"…Dabi," Compress starts, but the aforementioned man gave him a cutting glare.
"Y/n didn't take any damage. After using the ghost-whispering thing, they over-did it, and just--went down." He explains, boots still splashing through the stormwater as he approaches. "I think y/n's spirit is still back there. I know it."
"Y/n overused their quirk, and we don't know anything about it. What makes you think it didn't just.." Shigaraki knows he's stepping on the toes of his comrade--but it's not like he and Dabi really got along. "Kill 'em?" There's a slight shrug to his shoulders as he says it.
"Are you really going to give up that easily?" Dabi growls.
"The area is swarming with Pro-Heroes and Police. Even if we did decide to investigate your claims Dabi, we would be putting ourselves back in danger." Kurogiri now stands between them.
Dabi X SpookyQuirk!Reader "Good is Subjective" (Part 7)
Finally, this one's been in my brain for a while! I hope this reads well!
Find the other parts of this series here at my directory: Link
If you missed out on the previous parts you might be a little lost, but I do think this can read stand alone. Just letting you know before you continue. <3
This time, you have a bag over your shoulder full of odd bits and ends, and a tiny pen light in your other hand to light the path. Unlike the previous cemetery where you used to work, this one was much older and less frequented by grieving guests. It was practically pitch-black outside, no moon to speak-of, and no warmth in the air; absolutely frigid, and every breeze had you and Dabi walking a little closer together than normal.
Well, it had you walking closer than normal. But he didn't seem to mind.
Since the two of you had been attacked in the abandoned casino and car shop, you had revealed to him that your quirk had some strange advantages that the League wasn't aware of. Initially, you had been reluctant to mention the ability simply because you were scared of using it--something had always felt taboo about it. Not that anyone had ever established rules for this kind of thing, but you had always been under the impression that it was bad. Perhaps that was just ingrained information, forced upon you by worried parents and frightened teachers and tired doctors.
Either way, when the two of you had been warp-hole-ed back to base, you were expecting a verbal beating. Your inexperience had clouded your judgement, and you had withheld information from them about yourself--it really wasn't a good mix. But to your surprise, Dabi stood up for you.
"Y/n wasn't a criminal before now, you can't expect them to be efficient in the field out of nowhere."
You're now peering over Dabi's shoulder as he stands in front of you. Shigaraki had begun to move in towards you, and though it didn't read to you as threatening--you were still appreciative.
His face was mostly hidden with hair, but you could see the edges of a grimace on his chapped lips. A hand twitches at his side, and it puts a pit in your stomach. Whenever Shigaraki would scratch at his skin, things weren't going to go well, so you only hoped it stayed at his thigh.
"Fine." His voice sounds painfully dry, and he seems to shrink a little into his bar stool. He leans his cheek into his hand, preparing a smirk--but now he can see you better. "...What's with your hair?"
"Oh, uh--"
"The green guy showed up." Dabi cuts you off, and you want to be mad, but something tells you to stay quiet. "There was a spirit helping us out and.. Turns out, Ghost Whisperer here has a new trick."
"Oh?" Shigaraki looks to you expectantly, and Dabi remains quiet. You decide now might be the moment to step up to the plate.
"I can give them my energy." A breath, and something within curdles. Your intuition, begging you not to continue. But in faith, you do so anyway. "If they comply, I can.. Help them manifest and physically interact with the environment."
"...So you can make them do things for you?"
The look on Shigaraki's face in that moment could still give you goosebumps, and if not for the chilled air that already had you shivering beneath your coat, you certainly would have gotten them now. He reminded you of something hungry--wanting and wanting, but never satisfied. Paired with his ever-bleeding inky aura, he could pass for something monstrous.
Yet, you sensed a sadness too. A deep navy at the edges, pulling you in even when it scares you.
"There's a line of trees up ahead. I think that will give us enough cover." Like always, Dabi's voice pulls you back to the present, back to the living.
Oh, right. Training.
You could barely make out the blotches of trees in the night, but you wordlessly followed his instruction; the both of you gaining a bit of speed over the crunching of dead leaves underfoot. Before long, you were setting out some plastic bowls and cups--light and non-lethal items that (hopefully) you could convince a few ghosts to pick up. There was an opportunely placed concrete bench nearby that worked as a nice little stage.
"You're quiet." Dabi remarks, taking the bag from you and slinging it over his shoulder. "I thought you'd be ecstatic about being more 'useful'." His voice is a bit more agitated than you expected, and you offer him a curious look.
"Well sure, yeah, but.."
"But what?" There's that venom again. His hot and cold personality was going to drive you insane--what had happened to that 'please' in the car? The feather-light touch of his hands on your ankle and your back and your wrist--lets not think about that right now.
You hesitate a few seconds, eyeing him, evaluating him. Your quirk wasn't going yet, and somehow, he seemed to know it even though he couldn't see your eyes.
He was angry--but not at you. He had opened his mouth and set this all in motion; pulled you from the safety net they had you in and thrown you to the wolves--there weren't going to be any excuses now. If you were being trained to fight, then your life was going to be put on the line even more than it already had been.
It couldn't be a coincidence. Every time he was near you, either you got hurt or your life got worse. His fire was always too hot and you were always too close--hell he had literally burned you. Even if it was indirectly.
He was stupid for thinking he could let you in.
"I'm just a little anxious. This is new territory." You eventually say, though your quick to follow up with--"I'm not scared or anything. It's just. New."
"Hm." Dabi grunts, then crosses his arms. Suddenly there's a barrier between the two of you, and it makes the world feel much colder. "Well, let's see what you can do. Gotta get over it sometime."
You narrow your eyes at him then, and he doesn't even see it because he's staring off into the distance.
"I thought you tagged along to--I don't know--instruct me or something?"
"Like I have any idea how to do that." He retorts evenly, "You know how your stuff works. Now do it. Make the stuff move, practice, do whatever. Those are your instructions."
"...Dabi, are you okay?"
"What?" The gentleness in your voice surprises him; usually you were so quick to argue. He wanted you to be angry, see him for what he is, walk away. Anything but look at him like that.
"You're just acting weird." You make a move to step toward him, and he goes to step away.
"How would you know if I'm acting weird? You don't know anything about me."
That makes you stop. Because you sure didn't. You didn't know anything about him aside from what was on the surface and what you had gleaned from being in his presence. Tearing it from the atmosphere, because really, he wasn't an open book kind of guy.
"It's.. I..." You struggle as guilt wells up in your chest. Should you have tried harder? Why were you so scared?
His sigh is loud enough to distract you from returning to your thoughts, and a wisp of his breath can be seen in the edges of the pen light. He's on a ledge, teetering between pushing you away or pulling you in. He knows it's not good for you--but he wants to be selfish.
"...Things are going to change." He breaks the tense silence, and tries to find your eyes in the dark. "They aren't going to treat you like they used to. You'll be on the front lines now. Doing the dirty work."
"That doesn't explain why your mad at me."
"...I'm not mad at you."
"Okay."
"Okay."
And, we're back to going absolutely nowhere.
You huff audibly, rubbing your hands together. Since he was being his more 'cold-shoulder' self, you no longer had any interest in standing next to him for warmth.
"Well, since that's 'settled' I guess I'll get started." You drone, no longer motivated at all.
"I'll be right here if you need anything."
You're tempted to pick up the pinecone next to your shoe and chuck it at him. 'I'll be right here if you need anything~', what kind of back and forth game was he playing? One minute, it feels like your heart's beating in your head and you want to melt into his embrace--like those silly romance movies--and in the next, he's making your blood boil as though he's a campfire and you're roasting on a spit!
You're stomping away at that point, and Dabi decides to lean in against one of the nearby pines. Without you there, his eyes begin to better adjust to the darkness, and eventually he can pick out your form next to the gravestones with or without the halo of the pen light.
As you--he presumes--look for some willing ghosts to participate in your training, it gives him a minute or two to think. Or, well, it was suppose to; but now all he can do is watch and wonder. Ironically, he'd made mention of how little you knew him--but he wasn't any better, was he?
And of course, his mind drifts to the moment he'd had you practically closed in next to the car. Every quiet second he has alone when he's supposed to be focusing on his ambitions--it's all about you instead. An impulsive desire to return to that second and ignore the ghost in the back seat. He couldn't possibly predict what would have happened, but maybe if he could kiss you--maybe if he could give in, he wouldn't keep having these excuses trying to pull him back..
His attention is drawn back to the physical you, who was now chatting to something. To nothing. To you, it could be anything--but to him, and everyone else, it would always look like you were talking to the air, to the wall, to the trees.
It's the realization dawning on him that makes him feel a little weak.
To him, you were the kindest person he had ever met. Someone capable of loving the things no one else could even see--despite how you were treated by society for it. Strong enough to endure, and love and care anyway. But no matter what he thought you deserved--the world would always disagree with him. And he was stupid to even placate the thought of forcing you to ignore your quirk and live a normal life--because then it wouldn't be you.
He realizes he's the only one that could--
Plink.
A pinecone bounces off of the armored plates on the sleeves of his coat. Dabi just watches it roll on the ground next to his feet before he drags his eyes upwards.
You're standing there, still pretty far away, hands covering your mouth.
"I'm so sorry--I didn't think he would--that was--I was just--" You're making excuses, but he can see the guilt-ridden Cheshire smile between your fingers.
"Did you make a ghost.. Throw a pinecone at me?"
You sputter, trying to hold the laugh back with your palm and failing. "N-No! I.."
He starts moving in on you, threatening, shoulders up and wide and dark hair in his face. "So, you're makin' me out to be the bad guy in your little practice routine. All right.." He removes his hands from his pockets and lights a dim little flame in each. "I can work with that."
Uh oh.
"D-Dabi, I am truly sorry, I was just.." You're having to take steps backwards as he slowly struts towards you--but with the growing proximity and the light of his flames dancing across his features--you can now see the smile at the edges of his facial scarring.
That makes your heart flutter.
"Well go on," he taunts, voice low "You better run..!" Then he's leaping for you, causing you to squeal and dart away. You're pointing at the objects on the bench, telling the teenage ghost from earlier to help you out--"Throw em at him!"
And they do. Soon, you've accumulated all the younger ghosts in the field, a few older ones watching at the edges--children darting in and around your feet, running with you through the graveyard. Your hair's turning white slowly, not that you care, and nothing feels wrong anymore. You're just having fun.
And so is he. The plastic bits bounce off of him, but he slows when he's too close and feigns damage. He spews a bit of fire every now and then to scare you, which you squeal and laugh at. All of the ghosts would pause in awe, and giggle in that echoing way.
He feels young again. He can't see everything that you see, but the way your eyes sparkle makes his breath catch. It's the same as the times he played with his siblings, but its also different.
You begin to tire, bending at the hips and breathing out puffs of vapor. You're too slow when you notice him behind you, and though you try to dodge again; he has you.
Leaves kick up in the air as you both tumble unto the cold ground, laughing, fighting. But your punches are weak and his hands lack any fire.
Finally, he grabs your wrists and pins them to the ground, hovering over you and straddling your hips. He's grinning after a gruff, "Heh, there. Looks like the Villain wins today.."
You try to come up with a clever comeback, but as the adrenaline slides away, you're left breathless. It's the closest the two of you had ever been. Except, instead of feeling flustered, you just feel.. Light. "Dabi?"
"Hm?" It dawns on him too, the position he was now in. There's a flash of panic in his mind--should he remove himself? Was this the right thing to do..?
"I want to know you." You say, lips quivering while your nerves start act up and butterflies go roving through your insides.
His eyebrows connect, turning upward--and there's those boyish eyes. The same look he had given you in the car with the word 'please' on his lips. It makes your heart flip, and the air is snatched from your throat. "…There's nothing good to know about me, y/n."
You shake your head, "Good is subjective." Then your voice lowers to a whisper, eyes grazing from his thick eyelashes down his nose--those three piercings you wondered about--then his lips. "I'll decide for myself what is good and what isn't."
The battle is won. It wasn't enough that you had been a light in the dark, a purpose for the pull--but now you had his heart in both hands. You would seek the truth of him, and he might actually be willing to give it to you before he gave it to the world. But the thoughts of his future confrontations are far from his mind in that moment.
He's giving in, leaning down until he meets you halfway. He kisses you slow, eyes drawing to a close and yours do the same. His hands leave your wrists in favor of lowering his weight; propping to one elbow while his right arm comes down to press his thumb against your cheek, along your jaw, below your ear.
Your own hands are gentle. Grazing his shoulders first, then careful as they brave the scarred skin of his neck. There's a noise from him, but you're unable to discern if it's pain or comfort, so you leave them to hover there; neither pulling or pushing.
It's the sound of 'ooh's and giggling children that reminds you of your surroundings when the two of you stop for air; but you're too flushed from the kiss to remark on it immediately. Your eyes find his, which are still lidded; only slivers of cerulean that you can barely see in the dark. He's still so close, leaving warm breaths the tingle across your cheeks.
"I want to know you too." He says, voice more like that of a growl. A little teasing.
You smile, "I guess we better save the big questions for later though.." You cheekily lean up to whisper in his ear: "We have a bit of an audience."
He chuckles and gives you an exaggerated click of his tongue. "Next time I kiss you.. it won't be while you're using your quirk."
At first, it was just the taste of ash on your tongue.
Literally, like you had licked the bottom of a fireplace--or as though you had left the marshmallow in the fire too long and ate it anyway.
But soon, things escalate.
Like you were waking up in an inferno, and everything was just engulfed in white hot agony--scorching across every surface of your being. You knew it was fire, it was burning; but as though your nervous system couldn't calculate the right amount of pain to distribute, it also felt like falling into a frozen lake. Everything was sharp. Every nerve ending was screaming.
Some inner voice tells you not to open your eyes, but you do anyway. With some resemblance of a rebellious nature at the corners of your consciousness, like you could tell this was a dream, but who you were wasn't you.
It's unfortunate, though, because even with your eyes open--all you see is blue. A bright cerulean ocean of heat and violence.
----
When you awake, your body had jolted upright. It spasmed with a chill, and you fisted the sheets while your chest heaved--desperate for air.
You could swear you still smelled smoke.
You calm down, looking around the room, focusing on the texture of the bedding.
"...Well, that's a new one." You say, then swallow the panic for good.
You were pretty familiar with bad dreams. Seeing corpses walking around as a kid had quite the effect on your sleeping schedule. (As did the medications prescribed by your psychologists)
But, with the eventual understanding and then development of your quirk--random blood-soaked ghosts didn't wake you up anymore. The tendency for nightmares diminished to the normal standard. And, remarkably, they rarely involved corpses or ghosts; it was usually something living that tortured you.
But what the fuck was that?
You had been on fire--it definitely felt like you were dying--and the fire had been blue. It goes without saying that Dabi was involved, in some fashion. Perhaps that night the two of you had fought near the dock, the fire had scared you more than you realized. Maybe it was subconscious.
Or, maybe it was nothing and you were overthinking it.
There's a knock at your door, blissfully interrupting your inner debate.
"Yes?"
"Just checking in. You are usually up before this hour." Kurogiri.
There's no windows in your room, but Shigaraki had given you a cell phone when they realized you had actually joined the league, rather than being an unwilling participant in their endeavor. It was an odd exchange of trust. No windows, but you could call the authorities if you wanted.
Not that you wanted.
You tap the screen and check the time--indeed, it was a good hour past your regular schedule. It made you wonder if that nightmare had kept you asleep that whole time.
"...Yeah, sorry. Had some difficulties sleeping, I think."
"If it happens again, could I suggest some tea?"
You resist the urge to start your quirk up early. You wondered what emotion was bleeding into his aura. Would it be concern? Or was he faking it?
There was definitely something off about him, but you appreciated him nonetheless. He was a walking mass of misty purple.. stuff, so maybe his emotions didn't work like everyone else's.
"That's really nice of you. I'll let you know. I should be down in a bit," And you're already crawling out, finding your clothes.
"Understood. See you downstairs."
----
"What color is loooove?"
"Wh--" You blanche at Toga's question, peering at her with blurred vision over the glass of water you were sipping on.
"You see emotions riiight?" She asks, way too close to your face, way too loud for this time of the morning.
"Yeah," You set the glass down on the coffee table, waiting for her to continue. Don't complain, don't say anything mean, keep a little smile--don't forget to show her the drawings later, it'll keep her happy..
As much as you monologue about her creepiness, you weren't blind. Her aura bled the most melancholy of deep blues. She was the most sad when she was smiling.
"Well, then, surely you must know what the color love is right? Is it.. Pink? Red? OooH! I bet it's red like blood isn't it?" She puts her hands together, hopping and swaying her hips.
You offer a raised brow. "Why are you asking?" You lean in, feigning some interest. "Do you have a crush on someone?"
She gives an exaggerated gasp, hands flying to her mouth. "...Maybe." Then she's a giggling fit as she sits beside you, swinging side to side. "So tell me! What is it, what is it?!"
You let your shoulders follow your sigh. It's a little fun to act childish like her sometimes; even if it was demented. "Well.."
You can hear ice clinking, and your gaze slips past Toga's blonde locks to see Dabi seated at the bar. His head is tilted, just a bit, so his ear is towards you.
Well this is awkward now.
You clear your throat. It's not like this was something to hide--he didn't care. Right?
"I just want you to be okay."
You had both admitted it. Every hour since, you chest felt heavier and heavier--And, of course, you had both avoided the topic ever since. It was only a few days ago now, but there was always someone else in the room. Thank god.
How were you even going to tackle that mountain? How would the dynamic shift?
You just didn't know how to handle it right now.
"Love doesn't really have a color. It's.. More a combination of colors. Love itself, really, is more complex than an emotion outright. There's a lot of factors involved."
"Hm?" Toga's head tilts and she looks a little disappointed. "So, how would you know if someone liked you? How do you know what all the colors even mean?! Ugh! I have so many questions!"
"Issalright, it takes a lot of practice." You try to de-escalate her excitement by sounding softer, "but, really it's hard to tell if someone.. Likes you that way. A lot of the time, our emotions can conflict with how we explain them. Like.."
You try to come up with an example, "When you're upset with someone. Obviously you're angry right? But, then, if it's because they've done something to hurt you; you're sad too. So you'll have two colors."
You watch the disassociation in her features in real time, and you can tell she's bored with you.
"Yeah, okay." She pouts, "I was just hoping you could look at someone and tell if they like me back.."
"Mm. I wish it was less complicated too."
Dabi shifts back into his original position to stare at the still full glass of whiskey he wasn't going to drink.
Back to old habits.. He muses, but the grin never graces his features. He never asked you about yourself; he simply eavesdropped or deduced everything, laying it all out in his mind and trying to piece you together.
Things were different now.
He couldn't completely return to the way he was before the escape and the dock and the way he had just--spontaneously combusted in the middle of nowhere. He couldn't return to loathing you for how kind and interesting you were.
But he also didn't know how to approach you.
He figured it would probably be easy. Everyone else was open with you. Even now, Toga sat at your side and didn't feel the need to twist a blade in her fingers or put on a show. You didn't judge, condescend, or conspire against anyone.
Yet the reality of it still scared him and kept his body rigid in place when you were close by. Accepting that you meant something to him was easier in his head--but doing it in real life meant... change.
It didn't change how he felt about his father, nor did it change how he felt about the League's mission.
But his priorities had undoubtedly shifted.
Inwardly, he groans, and his hand finds a way into his hair as he leans over the bar.
"I just wanted you to be okay."
His heart dances along with the lilt of your voice in his mind, thudding harder at the catch in your breath between the 'you' and the 'to be'. The rapture that small inflection causes is astronomical--and it makes the world spin from his stool at the bar.
Find the other parts of this series in my directory: LINK
I really appreciate everyone's patience, work has been really hectic lately; in fact, I will still be working extra hours over the weekend. But such is life~
Please enjoy!
(btw this gif is bootiful, credit to the creator <3)
WARNINGS: SPOOKY VIBES, GORE, DETAILED BODILY INJURY, BLOOD, FLUFF, ANGST, and most importantly SPOILERS
"Don't you dare.."
Dabi's voice, Touya's voice, as it reaches around and pulls you to a stop in front of him.
Beyond the wild and burning cerulean ocean was a man of irregular height, blood pouring from a wound that spanned from his left temple to his lip. There's a grimace, parenthesized by large jowls, and an aura that clung to the inferno about his shoulders.
Since Dabi had revealed his true self to you, an image of Enji had arose in your mind. A one-sided, but still very clear, depiction of a man who only knows pride and jealousy and anger and perfection.
So it was surprising to see such a melancholic array of navy and indigo. Of regret and guilt, sadness, empathy. Yet a spark of amber remained; striking against the darker hues.
"I have to."
You stand in front of Dabi, Touya, who you loved dearly. Whom you had neglected to say so to, even though you wanted to, for the sake of saving him too much emotional pressure. But then, perhaps, this was as good a confession as any.
"No you don't!" His voice is louder now, pitched by fear, and you can hear the clinking of his belt against the asphalt as he crawls towards you. The smell of burnt hair, burnt skin, chokes you--tears spring from the corners of your eyes.
Yes I do.
"Get out of the way!" Endeavor roars, "This isn't your fight!"
"Yes it is!"
You surprise yourself with your own volume. Your hands are fists and you're tense, but you don't shake. You won't be moved. Not even by the long fingers that wrap around your ankle, weakly pulling you back. "Y/n.. Please.."
You would die if I didn't.
As if to prove your point, Dabi's encircling flame begins to die down. At the edges of its flickering light, you can see the wreckage of their battle--destroyed buildings and melted cars. There's a young man draped over concrete rubble, who's hair color alone queued you in on his identity. Shoto, Touya's little brother.
Beyond, you could hear other ongoing conflicts--no doubt the rest of the League. Kurogiri had not been able to warp everyone out, so you could only assume he was either downed or captured.
"This is ridiculous.." Endeavor seethes, "If you don't stand down, you'll die in the flames!"
The grip on your ankle tightens, and there's an unspoken link between the two of you then.
Getting captured meant a lot of things, but above all else, it meant the end. Not that, you suspected, Dabi planned on being captured. He'd gone into this wild; dancing even. He courted death jovially, watching his father's face fall as the world learned about Touya.
It's then that you realize why he had never openly spoken about his affections. Why it was never made official. You were criminals, destined for an end eventually--and you would never get to have a happy ending.
But getting captured today, wasn't going to happen. Not while you were here.
Dabi wasn't the only one who had something to show the world.
"I'm not moving." And you say it to both of them, arms extending outwards. In your peripheral, you can still see the apparitions that you had gathered earlier, leaning in, watching you.
Endeavor growls in frustration, bulking up the inferno that framed his torso. "Why are you protecting him?!"
Your mind races through a thousand answers. He didn't know you were a part of the League, you could say that. Or, you could make a statement, draw the crowd's focus--gain the League some public advantage.
But in the end, you could only say the truth.
"Because I love your son."
vvvvVVVVVVVVRRRR
You weren't sure how you had known--but you did. When your body had been overcome with the same vibrations as Dabi's first encounter with Endeavor, you latched onto the feeling and succumbed to it; rather than being scared. And like the vision, it was painful; but you were calm.
And now, as you finally allow the vibration--the emotions--to break the surface of your skin, it bleeds out from your finger tips and feeds the apparitions. The air itself ripples and takes on a visually static appearance, making the area look mottled and grey.
You had found the barrier. And you were breaking it.
"What're you.." Dabi croaks, a cold chill rattling his scorched flesh. Where there was hair on his burnt body, it stood on end, and everything felt.. Wrong. His eyes searched the back of your head, pleading for you to just turn around--but he watches in horror as your whole head of hair steadily turns white.
White like his.
His attention is stolen by movement in his peripheral, and he sees a silent pair of legs. One was badly broken, dragging along the ground--yet phasing through the rubble. Beyond that, a moving wall of sludge; then a warped child. Another figure appears to his right and causes his head to snap back and forth, taking in the morbid images as fear digs into his ribs.
What were you doing?!
Endeavor's head pounds against the noise and he winces, almost unable to process the imagery around him through the vibrations in his skull. When he does, he takes an involuntary step back. "What.."
Like a plague, corpses ambled towards him. Some burnt, some crushed, some with glaring holes through which he could see the city beyond. Victims, he realizes. "An illusion quirk.." He assumes, preparing a mild fireball. He throws it--but it hits nothing, fizzling out against a slab of upturned concrete.
Even if they weren't real, he couldn't deny just how unsettling--
Suddenly hands are gripping his arm. Startled, he flings it outwards, and a woman goes flying--but she gently floats back to the ground. Just as the first one had appeared, there were now many; groping at his arms and legs. Each touch felt cold and unnatural.
It's just an illusion. He tells himself, ignoring them, trying to move forward but still somehow being held back. "This is just wasting my time, this means nothing!" He yells over them, at you, who had remained still and silent.
He's trudging forward then, but slower. Dabi's fingers flex against your ankle and move up to your calf as he regains strength from adrenaline. He rises from the ground. "Y/n... let's go." He orders you, but you don't move. "Y/n--"
A swirling purple portal appears behind him. He'd never been more elated to see one than this very moment. It gives him the extra boost of energy he needed, and he's on his feet--the frustrated wailing of his father becoming music to his ears.
"C'mon Ghost Whisperer, this is cool and all but we need to--"
You fall. Your knees hit first then you swing to the side, limp. Not a word.
"Shit." He glances at the incoming torpedo of his old man, who had now resorted to using his fire propulsion to thrust himself through the crowd of dead. The corpses all reached out to slow him, but could do little more than that.
Dabi quickly scoops you into his arms, messily, uncaring if his staples caught on your clothes. He leaps through the portal, falling unto his shoulder against an unfamiliar floor with a faint splash of water.
---
"Bout time.." Shigaraki rasps, holding a heavily damaged arm while Kurogiri closes the warp gate. "We're in one of those massive storm drains. I have someone coming for us.."
Spinner sits off to the side, Toga next to him while she splashes her shoes in about an inch of water that seemed to cover the entire space, lit up by the one light Kurogiri had on his phone. Twice leans against a column, untouched in comparison to his comrades. Compress looks like he had a run-in with a bear, slash marks marring his intricate outfit.
But Dabi barely notices them.
All he can focus on is how cold you are.
"Twice's clones gave us an advantage and we managed..."
Kurogiri goes on to explain something, but he doesn't hear it. He's still on the floor, turning you over so your face was no longer in the water; the unsettling way your body lacks weight causing his heart to palpitate. "Y/n..?"
Suddenly it's quiet. Kurogiri stops talking in favor of watching you, and everyone else follows suit.
He takes up your arms and tries to sit you upright, then shakes you at the shoulders. "Y/n!"
Nothing.
Your head falls back. Dabi's fingers dig into the flesh of your arm--he's too scared to check for a pulse. "Hey, hey--we gotta go." He continues to talk at you, anger flaring in his much too worn-out body. "Y/n, you didn't--you didn't take any hits. You're not fooling me, now wake the fuck up."
But you don't.
"Hey.. Y/n's hair is all white." Spinner murmurs, settling himself next to Twice as everyone begins to gather.
For once, Twice has nothing to say.
Dabi snarls at your limp form. "Y/n, I swear.." His voice unexpectedly cracks, and he swallows his panic. "This isn't the time to be messing around.."
He uses his knee to prop you up, one hand supporting your neck as he reluctantly gives in. He's still holding unto that ember of anger, still growling as he places his fingers against your neck, his face drawing close to feel your breath across that part of his face that he could feel...
Only it doesn't.
He waits longer still.
Nothing.
The announcement is made when his forehead drops into the crook of your neck and his shoulders begin to shake with uneven breaths.
"Shit.." Twice whispers from above, leaning more heavily against the pillar. Compress removes his mask, eyes downcast.
"Are they..?" Toga asks, like it might suddenly change, like she was just interpreting things incorrectly. Spinner's hand flashes forward as she starts to move in, and gives her a warning look with a serious shake of his head.
Shigaraki's own shoulders appear to slump. As much as he wanted to appear unfeeling and selfish.. you had always been interesting to him. He would catch your sympathetic glances even when you tried to hide them; watch as you show a kindness to the League that they had all been bereft of most of their lives.
He would never have admitted it, but he was jealous in that moment. He wished he knew you better. An image instills itself in the front of his mind, of you sitting with the other members and listening to them and offering Kurogiri help with drinks.
"We should give him space." Kurogiri whispers into his ear, and Shigaraki gives the slightest of nods.
"We need to go this way." He announces, pulling everyone's attention. "Dabi you can catch up. Bring.." He stops on the word and doesn't know why he feels choked up. "Bring y/n with you."
Reading the room, everyone wordlessly follows Shigaraki's directions. Dabi focuses on their splashing footsteps until they are far away, staring at his own reflection in the water over your shoulder.
"Damn you." He rasps. It's venom that drips from his tongue, but it's honey when he draws back and places his hand on your jaw. "I can't even fucking cry.."
His thumb traces your nose, then along your bottom lip. The muscles spasm in his chest and throat, but his tear ducts were burnt. Instead, blood begins to seep from the scarring below his eyes--which he doesn't bother to wipe away. It drips unto your damp chest, leaving blossoms of crimson.
Without the ability to properly sob, his grief mounts in other ways.
Anger. It bubbles in his chest, then it boils the water--heat waves emitting from around his hold on you--and he wails. It echoes like a wolf's cry through the passages of the massive storm drain.
"I'm not accepting this.." He seethes into your ear, voice hoarse, nose pressed into your hair. "It's your quirk, isn't it..?" He drags a long breath through his nose, "You're still there.. I just can't see you.." He swallows hard; and though he lacks the strength, he wills himself to rise with you still against his chest. "Come back.." He pleads, walking in the direction of his comrades. "Come back."
.
.
.
"Y/n... let's go."
"Y/n--"
You turn around, "Yeah, Yeah I know--" You glance over your shoulder to follow his gaze and find a very angry-looking torpedo heading in your direction--very quickly. "Holy--"
"C'mon Ghost Whisperer, this is cool and all but we need to--"
"Yep, I'm right here." You step towards him, waiting for him to lead you away; but he doesn't move. "Hey--"
"Shit.."
Your eyes narrow on him as he moves past you and picks up--
Your body.
With you--a limp noodle essentially--being carried in his arms, he leaps through one of Kurogiri's warp gates. Without you. Or...
You gaze downward, picking up your palms and turning them over. You could easily pick up the asphalt and rubble through the translucency of your ghostly visage.
