My Jaw Is Fucking Dropped What The Shit

𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈 (𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑) 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢 (𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫) 𝐱 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

MEETING SPINNER:

he’s initially wary of you. new face in the league? he’s sizing you up, trying to figure out your quirk and loyalty. don’t take it personally; he's just cautious!

if your quirk is even remotely related to heroes (like, you can mimic their voices or analyze their strategies), he’s extra suspicious. prove you’re down with the cause!

he will lowkey admire you if you are really strong and have a really strong quirk for fighting heroes and being a villain.

he's surprisingly awkward when you first talk to him. expect a lot of mumbled greetings and averted eye contact. he's not used to interacting with people he doesn't immediately see as either a threat or a hero worshipper.

he's impressed if you can hold your own in a philosophical debate about stain. he needs someone who understands the depth of stain's ideology, not just the surface level admiration.

if you're good at tech or gaming, you've basically unlocked a secret level of respect. he will ask questions about computers and he might ask you to play games with him.

he notices small things. if you offer him a soda after a particularly frustrating mission, or if you defend him when someone makes a joke about his appearance, he remembers.

SPINNER CRUSHING ON YOU:

he gets flustered easily. compliment his fighting style? stuttering mess. ask him his opinion on stain's philosophy? expect a rambling, incoherent explanation.

he starts leaving you little offerings: a cool rock he found, a discarded manga he thinks you might like, a strangely shaped piece of metal he thought looked interesting. it’s his version of a love letter.

he lingers near you during league meetings, trying to subtly position himself so he can hear your input. he values your opinion, even if he doesn't directly say it.

his tail betrays him. happy? it thumps softly against the floor. nervous? it twitches uncontrollably. annoyed? it whips back and forth like a frustrated cat.

he might secretly start wearing a little bit of your favorite color. like, a bandanna or something subtle attached to his villain outfit.

he gets weirdly competitive if you’re talking to other members of the league. not jealous, per se… just… protective? yeah, let’s go with protective.

he uncharacteristically tries to dress nicer. like maybe he would clean his shoes more and try to keep his hair from getting in his face.

he will try to ask you out, but will fail miserably.

DATING SPINNER:

dates? forget fancy restaurants. think abandoned warehouses with surprisingly good take-out, or quiet rooftops overlooking the city.

he’s surprisingly affectionate. lots of gentle touches, leaning against you while watching a movie (probably a samurai flick), and the occasional shy hand-hold.

physical affection is a learning process for him. He's not sure how much is too much, so he'll often look to you for cues. communication is key!

he's fiercely protective, especially during missions. he'll always have your back, and he won't hesitate to put himself in harm's way to protect you.

he needs reassurance. he worries that you're only with him because of the league, or that you'll eventually get tired of his… quirks. remind him that you genuinely care about him.

he loves info-dumping about his interests, especially stain. be prepared to listen to hours of passionate monologues about the hypocrisy of hero society.

he will absolutely call you "my beloved stain enthusiast" as a term of endearment.

he will try to protect you from Shigaraki as much as possible.

he treasures any gift you give him. even the smallest, most insignificant thing will be placed in a special spot and treated with reverence.

he starts opening up more about his past and his insecurities. he trusts you implicitly, and he values your judgment.

he is a surprisingly good listener, offering thoughtful advice and genuine empathy. he may not always know what to say, but he'll always be there for you.

he is loyal to a fault. once he's committed, he's all in. expect unwavering support, fierce dedication, and a love that burns hotter than dragon fire (okay, maybe not thathot, but still!).

he sometimes calls you his "scalesmate" out of affection.

you will probably have to learn to hide him when you're on a grocery trip or something, as he can get in trouble if he's seen in public.

he’d absolutely let you customize his outfit, like adding patches or painting it. he’ll wear whatever you give him.

he likes to braid your hair while you both watch movies.

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎’𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄

𖤐 synopsis: with the feeling of being disregarded from izuku, you try to end the relationship; but, izuku unexpectedly reels you back in with a surprisingly, odd way of an apology.

𖤐 trigger warnings: angst/fluff at the end

𖤐 pairing: izuku midoriya x gender neutral! reader

the afternoon sun cast long shadows across u.a. high school's campus as you made your way toward heights alliance, the dormitory where class 1-a resided. your footsteps were heavy, matching the weight in your chest.

today marked exactly two months since you and izuku midoriya had started dating, but instead of celebrating, you were dreading the conversation you needed to have.

the world outside the school walls had grown increasingly dangerous. villains were organizing, heroes were falling, and somehow in the middle of it all was your boyfriend—a sixteen-year-old with the weight of an impossible legacy on his shoulders and determination burning in his eyes that sometimes scared you.

you found him in the common room, notebook open on his lap, muttering analysis to himself as he reviewed footage of recent hero battles. his green hair was messier than usual, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. he hadn't noticed you yet.

"izuku," you called softly.

his head snapped up, and immediately his tired face transformed with a smile that made your heart ache. "hey! i didn't hear you come in." he closed his notebook and patted the spot beside him on the couch. "i was just studying some new techniques that could help with controlling—"

"can we talk?" you interrupted, remaining standing. "somewhere private?"

his smile faltered, concern immediately replacing his enthusiasm. "sure. my room?"

the walk up to the fourth floor was quiet, tension building with each step. izuku's room was exactly as it always was—all might memorabilia covering nearly every surface, analysis notebooks stacked on his desk, workout equipment in the corner. it should have felt comfortable by now, but today it just reminded you of how single-minded his focus could be.

"is everything okay?" he asked as he closed the door behind you.

you took a deep breath. "not really. i'm worried about you, izuku."

he blinked, confusion written across his freckled face. "worried? about me? why?"

"why?" you couldn't help the slight edge that crept into your voice. "have you looked in a mirror lately? you're exhausted. you're pushing yourself way too hard with this new blackwhip training. aizawa-sensei said you were in recovery girl's office twice this week."

izuku's shoulders tensed slightly. "that's normal for training. i have to master these quirks if i'm going to—"

"if you're going to what? save everyone? become the number one hero? die trying?" the words came out harsher than you intended, but weeks of bottled concern were finally spilling over.

his eyes widened. "that's not fair. you know how important this is."

"of course i know," you said, trying to keep your voice level. "the whole world knows how important it is. but i'm not dating the future symbol of peace or one for all or whatever. i'm dating you, izuku. the boy who might not live to graduation at this rate."

a flash of hurt crossed his face. "i'm being careful."

"no, you're not!" you gestured to the bandages peeking out from beneath his school uniform sleeve. "this isn't normal, izuku. most teenagers worry about exams and crushes, not villains targeting them specifically."

"i never said it would be normal," he countered, his voice quiet but firm. "when you said you wanted to be with me, i thought you understood what that meant."

the implication stung. "so i'm just supposed to watch you destroy yourself? smile and nod while you come back with new scars every week?"

"i'm getting stronger!" his voice rose slightly, a rare show of frustration. "every training session, every new technique—it's all to make sure i can protect everyone. to make sure i can protect you."

"i never asked you to protect me," you said. "i asked you to be with me. there's a difference."

the argument built like a gathering storm, months of unspoken fears and frustrations finally finding voice. the common room incident with bakugo where izuku had jumped in front of you unnecessarily. the hospital visit after his internship that he'd downplayed. the nightmares he wouldn't talk about that left him shaking and distant.

"you don't understand what's coming," izuku said, running a hand through his hair. "the league is getting stronger. all for one is—"

"stop." you held up your hand. "i'm not asking for hero intel, izuku. i'm asking for my boyfriend to care about his own safety as much as he cares about everyone else's." "i do care!"

"then why won't you ever slow down? why won't you let anyone help you? even all might is worried, i can see it when he watches you train."

his face flushed with emotion. "because there isn't time! because if i fail, people die! because all might chose me, and i can't let him down!"

the words hung in the air between you, heavy and revealing. this wasn't just about heroics or training—this was about a boy desperate to prove himself worthy of an impossible mantle.

you sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. "i can't compete with that, can i? with all might, with one for all, with your destiny or whatever you want to call it." "it's not a competition," he said softly. "it feels like one. and i'm losing." you reached for your bag. "maybe we rushed into this. maybe dating the successor to all might isn't something i'm cut out for."

panic flashed across izuku's face. "wait, what are you saying?" "i'm saying i need space to think, izuku. this isn't what i thought it would be." you turned toward the door, willing yourself not to cry. "i care about you too much to watch you self-destruct."

"please don't go," he whispered, voice cracking slightly. "not like this." but you were already reaching for the doorknob, determined to leave before the tears threatening to spill could fall. you needed time to sort through your feelings, to decide if loving a boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders was something you could actually handle.

"i'm sorry," you said quietly. what happened next occurred so quickly you barely had time to register it. there was a crackling sound, a flash of dark energy in your peripheral vision, and suddenly you felt something wrap firmly around your waist—not painfully, but with unmistakable strength. blackwhip.

the dark tendrils of izuku's newer quirk had extended from his hand, gently but firmly holding you in place. before you could protest, he had pulled you back toward him, spinning you around to face him. his eyes were wide with surprise at his own actions, a look that suggested he'd acted purely on instinct.

and then, in a move that shocked you both, he leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against your cheek—a desperate, impulsive gesture that silenced whatever words had been forming on your lips.

for a moment, neither of you moved. the blackwhip dissipated, but izuku didn't step away, his face inches from yours, cheeks burning crimson.

"i—i'm sorry," he stammered, mortification dawning as he realized what he'd done. "i didn't mean to use my quirk on you. that was completely inappropriate and—"

"izuku," you interrupted his spiraling apology. "you used blackwhip on me." he winced. "i know. i'm really sorry. i panicked and—"

"no," you said, something warm unfurling in your chest despite everything. "you controlled it perfectly. no damage. no pain."

his rambling stopped as he processed your words. "oh. yeah, i guess i did." a small, tentative smile crossed your face. "that's the first time you've used it without hurting yourself or breaking something. and you did it…for me." the realization seemed to dawn on him too, his eyes widening slightly. "i wasn't even thinking about control. i just didn't want you to leave."

you reached up, touching your cheek where his kiss still lingered. "and the, um…?"

his blush deepened impossibly. "that was impulse. total impulse. i'm sorry if it was unwelcome or—"

"it wasn't unwelcome," you said softly. the tension between you shifted, the anger from moments before not gone but transformed into something different, something more vulnerable. "i'm scared, izuku," you admitted, finally voicing the fear that had been driving your anger. "not of villains or fighting or any of that. i'm scared of losing you."

his expression softened, understanding replacing defensiveness. "i'm scared too," he confessed. "all the time. but that's why i have to keep pushing, keep getting stronger."

"but at what cost?" you reached for his hand, turning it over to reveal the scars that mapped his sacrifices. "these aren't just training injuries. these are pieces of yourself you're giving away." izuku looked down at his scarred hand in yours. "i know it seems that way. but every scar is a lesson learned. a mistake i won't make again."

"and what about us? am i just another lesson waiting to happen?"

he shook his head firmly. "no. never." he took a deep breath. "look, i can't promise i'll stop training hard. i can't promise i won't put myself in danger when lives are at stake. but i can promise that you're not competing with anything or anyone. you're…" he searched for words, "you're the reason i come back, not just the reason i fight." "that sounds nice, but what does it actually mean?"

"it means i'll try harder to find balance. to take breaks. to let you in when things get overwhelming instead of shouldering everything alone." he squeezed your hand gently. "and maybe…maybe you could help me remember that saving the world includes saving enough of myself for the things that matter after the fighting's done."

you studied his face—earnest, determined, those green eyes that had always seen more in you than you sometimes saw in yourself. "that's a lot of maybes."

"i know. but i'm willing to try if you are." he hesitated, then added quietly, "i don't want our first argument to be our last conversation."

despite everything, you felt a smile tugging at your lips. "you know, most couples' first fights are about something normal. like where to eat dinner or forgetting an anniversary."

he laughed softly, the sound a welcome break in the tension. "when have either of us ever been normal?"

"fair point." you sighed, some of the anger and frustration finally draining away. "for the record, using your quirk to stop someone from walking away is definitely crossing a line." he winced. "i know. it won't happen again."

"good." you stepped closer, poking his chest lightly. "because next time i might actually be mad enough that you'd end up in recovery girl's office for an entirely different reason."

his eyes widened slightly before he caught the teasing in your tone, a smile spreading across his face. "so…there will be a next time? for us, i mean?"

instead of answering immediately, you reached up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, mirroring his impulsive gesture from before. "yes, you heroic idiot. but we have a lot to figure out." relief washed over his features. "we will. i promise." he hesitated, then added, "um, can i…i mean, would it be okay if i…"

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress your smile. "yes, deku, you can kiss me properly now."

his face lit up with the same determined joy you'd seen when he mastered a new technique, and as he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a gentle, tentative kiss, you understood something important: loving izuku midoriya would never be easy. there would always be dangers and fears and arguments about his reckless heroism.

but maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.

outside the window, clouds shifted, allowing late afternoon sunlight to stream into the room, illuminating the space between two teenagers figuring out how to balance first love against the weight of a world that demanded heroes.

"for what it's worth," izuku whispered as he pulled back from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, "controlling blackwhip was a lot easier when i was thinking about holding onto you instead of fighting."

you smiled, storing that confession away like a precious secret. "then maybe we've both learned something important today."

as the sun continued its descent outside, casting long shadows across u.a.'s campus, you and izuku sat on the edge of his bed, hands intertwined, talking about boundaries and fears and hopes—the kind of conversation that transforms a crush into something deeper, something worth fighting for.

your first argument hadn't ended your relationship. instead, it had given it roots, something solid to grow from. and in a world increasingly filled with uncertainty and danger, that was its own kind of heroism.

taglist: — open! [dm me if you’re interested]

mutuals: @https-bakugo @n3r0-5352 @kitkat13001 @haikyuubby @https-bakugo

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

!!𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @https-bakugo 𝟐𝟓𝟎 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭!!

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠..𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

The classroom of 1-A buzzed with early morning energy as you slumped in your seat, desperately trying to avoid making eye contact with the explosive blonde sitting two rows ahead. Even from behind, you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his spiky hair seemed to defy gravity with the same stubbornness as its owner.

Don't look at me, don't look at me, you silently chanted, knowing full well that Katsuki Bakugou had a sixth sense for when people were staring at him.

It had been three weeks since you'd transferred into UA's hero course, and you were still adjusting to the strange reality of being in the same class as your childhood friend—if you could even call him that anymore. Your mothers had been best friends since college, which meant you and Katsuki had spent countless afternoons together as children. You remembered a different Katsuki then: still competitive and loud, but he'd smile sometimes too.

That was before middle school, before his quirk developed fully, before the distance grew between you.

"Oi," a gruff voice broke through your thoughts, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. Somehow, Bakugou had materialized next to your desk during your daydreaming. "You're coming to my place after school. The witch been asking about you."

It wasn't a question. It never was with him.

"I have homework," you protested weakly, knowing it was a poor excuse.

His crimson eyes narrowed. "We have the same homework, dumbass. Bring it with you."

Before you could respond, he was already walking away, leaving a trail of whispers in his wake.

"Did Bakugou just... talk to the new kid?" "I didn't know they knew each other!" "Is it safe to be alone with him?"

The last comment made you snort quietly. If only they knew how many times Aunt Mitsuki had forced Katsuki to play house with you when you were six.

—————————————————————

"You've been avoiding me," Katsuki said bluntly as you walked the familiar path to his house. The cherry trees were in bloom, soft pink petals drifting down around you both.

"I haven't," you lied, adjusting your backpack strap nervously.

"Bullshit," he replied, but there was no real heat behind it. "You practically dive behind Deku whenever I look in your direction."

You winced. He wasn't wrong.

"It's just... weird, okay? Being in the same class again after so long. You're different now."

"So are you," he countered, giving you a sidelong glance that made your heart stutter. "You used to talk more."

"You used to listen more," you shot back, surprised by your own boldness.

For a moment, you thought you saw the ghost of a smile cross his face, but it was gone so quickly you might have imagined it.

"Whatever," he muttered, kicking a pebble with more force than necessary. "The old hag’s making spicy curry. She remembers it's your favorite."

The fact that he remembered too hung unspoken between you.

—————————————————————

"LOOK WHO'S HERE!" Mitsuki Bakugou's voice boomed through the house the moment you stepped through the door. Within seconds, you were enveloped in a bone-crushing hug that smelled of citrus perfume and home.

"It's been too long!" she exclaimed, holding you at arm's length to examine you. "You've grown so much! Masaru, come look how tall they've gotten!"

Katsuki's father appeared from his home office, wearing his usual kind smile. "Welcome back," he said warmly. "We've missed having you around."

"Thanks for having me," you replied, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. You'd forgotten how much you'd missed this house, this family.

"Don't smother them," Katsuki grumbled, already heading upstairs. "We've got homework."

"Homework can wait until after dinner," Mitsuki declared. "Besides, I want to hear all about UA! Is my son behaving himself? He's not bullying you, is he?"

"SHUT UP, HAG!" Katsuki roared from halfway up the stairs.

You laughed, feeling the tension of the past few weeks start to dissolve. "He's actually really amazing in hero training," you admitted. "Everyone respects him."

Mitsuki's expression softened. "Is that so?" She glanced toward the stairs where her son had disappeared. "Well, don't tell him I said this, but I'm proud of the little brat."

—————————————————————

Dinner was a loud affair, just as you remembered. Mitsuki and Masaru asked about your parents, about your quirk training, about your impression of UA. Katsuki remained mostly silent, but you caught him watching you when he thought you weren't looking.

After helping clear the dishes (over Mitsuki's protests), you finally followed Katsuki to his room. It was neater than you expected, minimalist but with traces of his personality everywhere: a shelf of hero analysis books, weights in the corner, a poster of All Might that you remembered him getting for his tenth birthday.

"Your room hasn't changed much," you observed, setting your backpack down.

"Why would it?" he replied, dropping onto his desk chair and gesturing vaguely toward the bed. "Sit wherever."

You perched on the edge of his bed, suddenly hyperaware of being alone with him. It was ridiculous—you'd spent countless hours in this very room as kids—but something felt different now. Maybe it was the way his UA uniform fit across his shoulders, or how his hands looked stronger than you remembered.

"Are you going to stare at me all night or are we going to do this homework?" he asked, not looking up from his notebook.

Your face burned. "S-sorry. Modern Hero Art History, right?"

For the next hour, you both worked in surprisingly comfortable silence, broken occasionally by a question about the assignment or a muttered curse from Katsuki when he made a mistake. It felt... normal. Nice, even.

"Why did you stop coming around?" he asked suddenly, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

The question caught you off guard. "What?"

"Middle school. You used to come over all the time, then you just... stopped."

You set your pencil down, studying the pattern on his bedspread. "You started hanging out with those other guys. The ones who followed you everywhere. You seemed like you didn't want me around anymore."

His eyebrows drew together. "That's stupid."

"Is it?" you challenged. "You changed, Katsuki. You got meaner. Especially to Midoriya. I didn't know how to talk to you anymore."

He was silent for so long that you finally looked up, surprised to find him staring intensely at you. Something vulnerable flickered in his eyes before his usual scowl returned.

"Yeah, well. I was an idiot in middle school."

Coming from Bakugou, this was practically a heartfelt apology.

"We all were," you offered, a small olive branch. "But for what it's worth... I think you've changed again. For the better."

He turned back to his homework, but not before you caught the faintest blush on his cheeks. "Whatever. Hand me that textbook."

—————————————————————

Over the next few weeks, something shifted between you and Katsuki. You stopped avoiding him at school. He started waiting for you after hero training. Sometimes you'd study together in the common room, surrounded by your curious classmates who couldn't quite figure out your relationship.

"So... you and Bakugou, huh?" Kirishima asked one day as you were changing for gym class.

"What about us?" you replied, trying to sound casual.

"You're like the only person he doesn't yell at," Mina chimed in, eyes sparkling with interest. "Spill the tea!"

"We grew up together," you explained with a shrug. "Our moms are friends. It's not a big deal."

But it was becoming a big deal, at least to you. The more time you spent with him, the more you noticed things: the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when he was truly amused, how gentle his hands could be when helping you with a training exercise, the protective way he positioned himself when villains attacked during your field training.

And worst of all, you were pretty sure Katsuki had noticed your noticing.

—————————————————————

"You're distracted," he growled during your Saturday training session. You'd taken to practicing together on weekends, away from the prying eyes of your classmates. "Your form is sloppy."

"Sorry," you mumbled, resetting your stance. "Let me try again."

He circled you, making minute adjustments to your posture. "Elbow higher. Center your weight." His hand brushed against your lower back, and you tried desperately not to react.

"Better," he approved, stepping back. "Now try to hit me."

You launched forward, quirk activated, aiming a strike at his midsection. He dodged easily, but you anticipated it, pivoting to catch his arm. For a moment, you thought you had him, but then the world tilted as he swept your legs out from under you.

You landed hard on your back, Katsuki following you down, his hand catching your wrist and pinning it above your head. His face hovered inches above yours, both of you breathing hard.

"Predictable," he said, but his voice sounded strange—rougher than usual.

You were suddenly aware of every point of contact between your bodies, the weight of him partially above you. His eyes dropped to your lips for a fraction of a second.

"Katsuki..." you breathed.

He released you abruptly, standing and offering a hand up. "Again," he said, turning away. "And focus this time."

But focus was impossible now. Every touch, every glance felt charged with something neither of you was willing to name.

—————————————————————

The training camp was supposed to be an opportunity to improve your quirks, but all you could think about was the growing tension between you and Bakugou. You'd caught him watching you during meals, during training, during the rare moments of downtime. And you'd been just as guilty.

"Just talk to him already," Uraraka urged as you sat together by the campfire on the final night. "The suspense is killing all of us."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, though your eyes automatically sought out Katsuki's spiky blonde head across the fire.

"Sure you don't," she giggled. "That's why you've been staring at him all night."

Before you could defend yourself, Aizawa announced it was time to turn in. You stood, brushing dirt from your pants, when a message buzzed on your phone.

Meet me by the lake. 10 minutes. -K

Your heart hammered against your ribs as you made your way to your cabin, changed quickly, and then slipped out into the darkness. The path to the lake was lit only by the stars and the waning moon, but you could have found your way blindfolded.

Katsuki was already there, sitting on a boulder near the water's edge, his back to you. The moonlight silvered his hair, softened the perpetual anger in his profile.

"You came," he said without turning around.

"You asked me to," you replied simply, coming to stand beside him.

For several long moments, neither of you spoke. The lake lapped gently at the shore, crickets singing in the undergrowth.

"You've been acting weird," he finally said, turning to look at you. "Weirder than usual."

"So have you," you countered.

"Because of you!" he snapped, standing suddenly. "Because you keep looking at me like—like—"

"Like what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Like you want something from me," he said, stepping closer. "Like you're waiting for something."

Your breath caught in your throat. This was it—the moment where you either took the leap or retreated to safety.

"Maybe I am," you admitted.

His eyes widened slightly, and for once, Katsuki Bakugou seemed at a loss for words. Then, with a frustrated growl, he closed the distance between you, one hand tangling in your hair as his lips crashed against yours.

The kiss was everything you'd imagined and nothing like you expected—fierce but unexpectedly tender, demanding yet asking a question. You answered by wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, he pressed his forehead against yours. "Took you long enough," he muttered.

You laughed, the sound bright in the quiet night. "Me? You're the one who's been glaring at me for weeks!"

"That's how I look at everyone," he protested, but his hands remained gentle where they held your waist.

"Not everyone," you corrected softly. "Not me. Not anymore."

Instead of arguing, he kissed you again, slower this time. In the gentle night beneath the stars, with the boy you'd known all your life but were just beginning to truly see, you felt something click into place. Like coming home after a long journey, to find that home had been waiting for you all along.

"We should get back," he said eventually, though he made no move to let you go.

"Five more minutes," you murmured against his lips.

For once, Katsuki Bakugou didn't argue.

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

I only just noticed that Magne also uses gamer lingo irl during the attack on the camp and I fully choose to believe that she is NOT a gamer but she heard Shigaraki doing it and thought it was fun.

Hai kenz :3

HII POOKIE

𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑

𖤐 synopsis: it’s tomura’s birthday! so what better way than to celebrate it with him?

𖤐 trigger warnings: fluff!

𖤐 pairing: shigaraki tomura x gender neutral! reader

The soft glow of your phone illuminated your face as you checked the time once more: 11:47 PM, April 3rd. In just thirteen minutes, it would officially be Shigaraki Tomura's birthday. You smiled to yourself, knowing he probably didn't expect anyone to remember—least of all you, considering how your relationship had begun.

Your mind drifted back to your first encounter with the League of Villains' leader. It wasn't exactly a meet-cute; more like a collision of worlds that neither of you had anticipated. Yet somehow, against all odds, a connection had formed between you—tentative at first, then undeniable as time went on.

Shigaraki was asleep in the next room. You had convinced him to let you stay over tonight with some flimsy excuse about apartment renovations, hiding your true intentions. The cake was hidden in the back of his refrigerator, a small vanilla affair with minimal decoration—anything too elaborate would have aroused his suspicion. The gift, wrapped in simple black paper, was tucked away in your overnight bag.

The minutes ticked by. 11:55 PM.

You slipped out of the guest room and padded quietly to the kitchen. The hideout was silent except for the occasional creak of the old building settling. You removed the cake from its hiding spot and placed a single candle in the center. No need for twenty-something candles; Shigaraki wouldn't appreciate the fire hazard anyway.

11:59 PM.

Heart pounding, you lit the candle and carefully made your way to his bedroom door. You balanced the cake in one hand and knocked softly with the other.

"What?" His voice came through the door, alert despite the hour. Of course he wasn't asleep. When did Shigaraki ever sleep properly?

"Can I come in?" you called softly.

A pause, then: "Fine."

You pushed open the door with your foot to find him sitting up in bed, the harsh light of a gaming console illuminating his face. His pale blue hair was messier than usual, falling haphazardly around his face. His red eyes widened slightly at the sight of you holding the cake.

"Happy birthday," you said, smiling as the digital clock on his nightstand clicked over to 12:00 AM.

He stared at you, then at the cake, his expression unreadable. "How did you know?"

You entered the room fully, setting the cake down on his desk. "I have my sources," you replied with a mysterious smile. In truth, you had overheard Kurogiri mentioning it to Dabi weeks ago and had been planning this moment ever since.

"You didn't have to do this," he muttered, but you noticed he didn't take his eyes off the cake.

"I wanted to." You sat on the edge of his bed. "Make a wish?"

Shigaraki scoffed, but he set aside his console and moved to the desk. "Wishes are for children."

"Humor me?"

He gave you a look that might have been intimidating to anyone else, but you'd grown accustomed to his attempts to appear disinterested. With an exaggerated sigh, he leaned forward and blew out the candle in one quick breath.

"What did you wish for?" you asked.

"If I tell you, it won't come true," he replied sarcastically, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "Isn't that how the superstition goes?"

You laughed and retrieved your gift from your bag. "Here. It's not much, but..."

Shigaraki took the package with surprising gentleness. His fingers worked carefully at the wrapping paper, methodically removing it without tearing it—so different from his usual destructive tendencies. Inside was a custom controller for his favorite gaming system, matte black with hand-painted details that matched his aesthetic.

"I noticed your current one was getting worn out," you explained when he didn't immediately respond. "And I added some modifications that should improve the response time for those games you like."

He turned the controller over in his hands, examining it from every angle. "You made this?"

You nodded, suddenly feeling nervous. "Do you like it?"

Instead of answering, he set the controller down carefully and looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. "Why do you do this?"

"Do what?"

"Care." The word seemed to cost him something to say. "About me. About my birthday. About any of this."

You moved closer to him, brave in the quiet darkness of the early morning. "Because you matter to me, Tomura. Because everyone deserves to be remembered on their birthday."

"Even villains?" There was a challenge in his voice, but also vulnerability that he rarely allowed anyone to hear.

"Especially you." You reached for his hand, interlacing your fingers with his. "The world might see Shigaraki Tomura, leader of the League of Villains. But I see you."

Something shifted in his expression then, the hardness momentarily giving way to something softer, more human. He squeezed your hand gently.

"Thank you," he said, the words coming out slightly stiff, as if he wasn't used to saying them—which he probably wasn't.

You smiled and reached for the cake. "Now, do you want to eat this, or should I have gone with the ice cream option instead?"

He gave you one of his rare, genuine half-smiles. "Cake is fine. But only because you went to the trouble."

As you cut slices for both of you, you caught him looking at you with an expression you couldn't quite decipher—something between wonder and confusion, as if he couldn't quite believe you were really there, celebrating his birthday with him at midnight.

"What?" you asked, handing him a slice.

"Nothing," he said, taking the cake. Then, more quietly: "Just... no one's done this for me in a long time."

Your heart ached at the implication. How many birthdays had he spent alone? How many years had passed without anyone marking the occasion?

"Well," you said, keeping your tone light despite the emotion welling in your chest, "get used to it. I plan on celebrating many more birthdays with you."

His eyes met yours, searching for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, he nodded once, a barely perceptible movement.

"I might not hate that," he admitted, which from Shigaraki was practically a declaration of affection.

You ate cake together in comfortable silence, the soft glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. Outside, the world continued to turn, heroes and villains alike sleeping through the first hours of April 4th, unaware of this quiet moment between you and the man society had deemed irredeemable.

But you knew better. Here, in this space you'd created together, he wasn't the villain from the news reports. He was just Tomura, eating birthday cake at midnight, occasionally glancing at you as if to reassure himself you were still there.

Later, as dawn approached and you both grew tired, you found yourself curled against his side, his arm tentatively around your shoulders as you watched him play with his new controller.

"Best birthday?" you asked sleepily.

He was quiet for so long you thought he might not answer. Then, so softly you almost missed it:

"Yes."

And as you drifted off to sleep beside him, you knew that whatever tomorrow held—whatever plans the League had, whatever conflicts awaited—you had given Shigaraki Tomura this one perfect moment. A birthday to remember.

mutuals: @haikyuubby @https-bakugo @va-3 @kitkat13001 @lotusstarr @shigarakislaughter

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈 (𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑) 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢 (𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫) 𝐱 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

MEETING SPINNER:

he’s initially wary of you. new face in the league? he’s sizing you up, trying to figure out your quirk and loyalty. don’t take it personally; he's just cautious!

if your quirk is even remotely related to heroes (like, you can mimic their voices or analyze their strategies), he’s extra suspicious. prove you’re down with the cause!

he will lowkey admire you if you are really strong and have a really strong quirk for fighting heroes and being a villain.

he's surprisingly awkward when you first talk to him. expect a lot of mumbled greetings and averted eye contact. he's not used to interacting with people he doesn't immediately see as either a threat or a hero worshipper.

he's impressed if you can hold your own in a philosophical debate about stain. he needs someone who understands the depth of stain's ideology, not just the surface level admiration.

if you're good at tech or gaming, you've basically unlocked a secret level of respect. he will ask questions about computers and he might ask you to play games with him.

he notices small things. if you offer him a soda after a particularly frustrating mission, or if you defend him when someone makes a joke about his appearance, he remembers.

SPINNER CRUSHING ON YOU:

he gets flustered easily. compliment his fighting style? stuttering mess. ask him his opinion on stain's philosophy? expect a rambling, incoherent explanation.

he starts leaving you little offerings: a cool rock he found, a discarded manga he thinks you might like, a strangely shaped piece of metal he thought looked interesting. it’s his version of a love letter.

he lingers near you during league meetings, trying to subtly position himself so he can hear your input. he values your opinion, even if he doesn't directly say it.

his tail betrays him. happy? it thumps softly against the floor. nervous? it twitches uncontrollably. annoyed? it whips back and forth like a frustrated cat.

he might secretly start wearing a little bit of your favorite color. like, a bandanna or something subtle attached to his villain outfit.

he gets weirdly competitive if you’re talking to other members of the league. not jealous, per se… just… protective? yeah, let’s go with protective.

he uncharacteristically tries to dress nicer. like maybe he would clean his shoes more and try to keep his hair from getting in his face.

he will try to ask you out, but will fail miserably.

DATING SPINNER:

dates? forget fancy restaurants. think abandoned warehouses with surprisingly good take-out, or quiet rooftops overlooking the city.

he’s surprisingly affectionate. lots of gentle touches, leaning against you while watching a movie (probably a samurai flick), and the occasional shy hand-hold.

physical affection is a learning process for him. He's not sure how much is too much, so he'll often look to you for cues. communication is key!

he's fiercely protective, especially during missions. he'll always have your back, and he won't hesitate to put himself in harm's way to protect you.

he needs reassurance. he worries that you're only with him because of the league, or that you'll eventually get tired of his… quirks. remind him that you genuinely care about him.

he loves info-dumping about his interests, especially stain. be prepared to listen to hours of passionate monologues about the hypocrisy of hero society.

he will absolutely call you "my beloved stain enthusiast" as a term of endearment.

he will try to protect you from Shigaraki as much as possible.

he treasures any gift you give him. even the smallest, most insignificant thing will be placed in a special spot and treated with reverence.

he starts opening up more about his past and his insecurities. he trusts you implicitly, and he values your judgment.

he is a surprisingly good listener, offering thoughtful advice and genuine empathy. he may not always know what to say, but he'll always be there for you.

he is loyal to a fault. once he's committed, he's all in. expect unwavering support, fierce dedication, and a love that burns hotter than dragon fire (okay, maybe not thathot, but still!).

he sometimes calls you his "scalesmate" out of affection.

you will probably have to learn to hide him when you're on a grocery trip or something, as he can get in trouble if he's seen in public.

he’d absolutely let you customize his outfit, like adding patches or painting it. he’ll wear whatever you give him.

he likes to braid your hair while you both watch movies.

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

do i put your name down as kenz? :sweat:

yes 😋✌️

hi hiii can u do dating denki plsss<<33

answer: 100%!! mind you some of these headcanons are ooc (ᵕ—ᴗ—) so sorry for the late response

𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢, 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐦𝐡𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐮𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

MEETING DENKI KAMINARI:

denki first meets you during a training session at ua, where he accidentally overloads his quirk and creates a small electrical storm, leading to a hilarious and chaotic scene. you’re the only one who laughs, sparking an instant connection.

he’s initially flustered by your confidence and sense of humor, feeling like he needs to impress you with his lightning speed in training, even if it results in some clumsy mistakes.

denki often asks for your help with his studies, particularly in subjects he struggles with, like math, using his charm to distract you while secretly hoping to win your attention.

when you sit next to him in class, he gets a little nervous and fidgets with his hair, secretly enjoying the proximity and wishing he could casually spark a conversation.

he’s always down for group outings, and he often tries to sit next to you or offer to carry the snacks, hoping to steal a moment of your attention.

he once tries to show off by zapping a soda can to open it for you, but it backfires, creating a fizzy mess that only makes you laugh more, endearing him to you even further.

CRUSHING ON YOU:

denki’s crush manifests in the form of a silly, boyish grin whenever you walk into the room; he can’t help but light up, much like his quirk when he’s excited.

he’s overly protective of you, especially during training sessions, often shielding you from rogue attacks with an electric shield, trying to play it cool but secretly worried about your safety.

he tends to send you random memes or funny videos to make you laugh, often accompanied by cringe-worthy puns about electricity that only he finds funny.

when you’re together in a group setting, he’ll boast about your abilities, trying to impress you and subtly show that he admires your skills, often getting a little competitive.

if you catch him staring at you, he’ll quickly look away, blushing and hoping you didn’t notice, internally screaming about how cute he thinks you are.

denki might even try to spark up conversations about your favorite subjects, awkwardly fumbling over his words, but genuinely wanting to know what you’re passionate about.

DATING DENKI KAMINARI:

denki surprises you with spontaneous dates, like taking you to the nearest arcade to challenge you in games, where he either wins or loses dramatically, making you both laugh.

he’s the kind of boyfriend who sends you good morning texts with cute electric puns and a lightning bolt emoji, setting the tone for your day with positivity.

he loves giving you electric hugs, literally buzzing with excitement whenever he sees you, but he’s careful not to overload you with his quirk, so it’s more like a gentle charge.

denki encourages you to embrace your quirks and talents, often cheering the loudest during your battles and reminding you that you’re amazing just the way you are.

he’s always there to lend an ear, especially when you’re feeling down, lighting up your mood with his goofy antics and unwavering support.

dates often end with him trying to impress you with some flashy electrical displays, even if it means making a little mess; he finds joy in seeing you smile at his attempts.

denki would make it a point to remember special dates, celebrating your anniversaries with a small surprise—like a handmade gift powered by his quirk, showing just how much he cares.

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒

𖤐 synopsis: in the dimly lit league of villains' hideout, an unexpected moment of vulnerability unfolds between you and dabi as you both share painful memories of your fathers.

𖤐 trigger warnings: dark themes, abuse (implied)

𖤐 pairing: touya (dabi) todoroki x villain! gender neutral! reader

the afternoon light filtered weakly through the boards covering the windows of the league of villains' current hideout. dust particles danced in the thin beams of sunlight that managed to break through, giving the otherwise dreary room a strange, almost ethereal quality. the abandoned building had become home for the past three weeks—not the worst place you'd stayed since joining the league, but certainly not the best either.

you lounged on the worn couch, your legs stretched across dabi's lap as he absently traced the scars on your arm with his fingertips. his touch was feather-light, careful not to press too hard against your skin. despite his rough exterior and the violent nature of his quirk, dabi always touched you with a gentleness that still surprised you sometimes.

the hideout was unusually quiet today. shigaraki had taken toga, twice, and spinner on some reconnaissance mission, while mr. compress and kurogiri were meeting with potential allies across town. it was rare to have the place entirely to yourselves, and the silence felt almost luxurious after days of toga's manic laughter and twice's constant contradictory chatter.

"what are you thinking about?" dabi asked, his deep voice breaking through the comfortable silence. his turquoise eyes studied your face with an intensity that used to make you uncomfortable but now felt like home. you shifted slightly, adjusting your position on the couch. "just enjoying the quiet, honestly."

dabi's lips quirked up on one side—the closest thing to a genuine smile he ever showed. "never thought i'd miss silence until i joined this circus."

you laughed softly. "remember when toga and twice had that three-hour argument about whether strawberry milk was better than chocolate?" "and then spinner threatened to duct tape their mouths shut?" dabi shook his head, the staples at the corners of his mouth catching the light. "i nearly burned the place down just to escape."

"but you didn't," you said, reaching out to push a strand of his dark hair away from his face. "because underneath all that brooding and those threats, you care about them."

dabi scoffed, though he didn't pull away from your touch. "i don't care about anyone in this league except you."

"mmm, keep telling yourself that," you teased, knowing full well how annoyed he got when you suggested he had a soft spot for the other members.

he rolled his eyes but didn't argue further. his hand continued its gentle exploration of your arm, tracing each scar with a reverence that made your heart ache. some were from your life before the league, others collected during various missions. dabi knew the story behind each one—just as you knew the story behind each of his purple scars that mapped out his body like a grotesque puzzle.

"this one," he said, touching a particularly jagged mark that ran from your elbow to your wrist, "still looks painful."

"it's not anymore," you assured him. "just a reminder of why we're here. why we're fighting." dabi nodded, understanding perfectly. every member of the league carried their own wounds—some visible, others buried deep beneath the surface. it was what united you all, in a way. the scars left by a society that had failed you.

"speaking of reminders," you said, sitting up a little straighter. "i found something yesterday when i was out." you reached into your pocket and pulled out a crumpled newspaper clipping. "thought you might want to see it."

dabi took the paper from your hands, his expression hardening as he unfolded it. it was an article about the number two hero, endeavor, speaking at some charity event about supporting children with difficult-to-control quirks. the irony was sickening.

"bastard," dabi muttered, his fingers tightening around the paper. small wisps of blue flame began to lick at the edges of the clipping. "still pretending to be a fucking saint."

you watched as the paper blackened and curled, turning to ash in dabi's palm. the blue flames danced across his skin but never extended to where his other hand rested on your leg. his control was impeccable—it had to be, after what he'd been through.

"i know you don't like talking about him," you said carefully. "but whenever you see anything related to him, you get this look in your eyes…" dabi's jaw clenched, the staples stretching his scarred skin even tighter. "what look?"

"like you're back there," you said softly. "back in that house with him."

for a long moment, dabi said nothing. the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken memories and pain. you didn't push—you'd learned early in your relationship that pushing dabi only made him retreat further into himself. instead, you waited, giving him the space to decide whether to let you in or change the subject entirely. finally, he brushed the remaining ashes from his palm onto the floor. "what about you?" he asked, deflecting as he often did. "you never talk about your old man either."

you shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant despite the sudden tightness in your chest. "not much to talk about. can't miss what was never there."

dabi's gaze sharpened. "sometimes that leaves its own kind of scar." the observation caught you off guard. it wasn't often that dabi showed this level of perception about emotional matters—or perhaps he simply chose not to reveal it most of the time.

"i guess it does," you admitted. "but different from yours. my father just… wasn't around. yours was there in all the worst ways possible."

something shifted in dabi's expression then, a crack appearing in his carefully maintained façade. his eyes darted to the boarded-up windows, then to the door, as if ensuring you were truly alone before he allowed himself to speak.

"sometimes i think it would have been better if he hadn't been there at all," dabi said, his voice so low you had to lean in to hear him. "if he'd just fucked off and left us alone instead of…" he trailed off, his free hand clenching into a fist.

you placed your hand over his, feeling the tension in his fingers. "instead of what, dabi?"

he looked at you then, really looked at you, with a vulnerability that made your breath catch. in that moment, he wasn't dabi the villain, the man who burned heroes without remorse—he was toya, the broken child beneath all those scars. "instead of training me until i broke," he said finally, the words rushing out like they'd been trapped inside him for too long. "until i literally fucking burned."

you held his gaze, letting him see that you weren't afraid of his truth. "tell me."

and for the first time since you'd known him, dabi began to talk about his father—about endeavor, about enji todoroki. about what it meant to be the firstborn son of a man obsessed with surpassing all might at any cost.

"he married my mother for her quirk," dabi explained, his voice hollow. "it was never about love or family. it was about breeding the perfect weapon. and i was the first attempt."

you listened, your heart breaking as he described the "training" sessions that started when he was just four years old. how endeavor would push him for hours, demanding he produce hotter flames, maintain them longer, control them better. how his tiny body would shake with exhaustion, how his skin would blister and burn from his own quirk.

"my fire was hot—hotter than his. that's what he wanted," dabi said, a bitter smile twisting his scarred lips. "but my body couldn't handle it. not like his. i tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen. said i was being weak, that i needed to push through it."

"he was wrong," you said firmly, squeezing his hand. "he was wrong about you."

dabi laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor. "oh, i know that now. but back then? he was my father. my hero." the last word dripped with venom. "i thought if i could just try harder, be stronger, he'd finally be proud of me. that he'd finally love me." you felt a burning behind your eyes but forced back the tears. dabi didn't need your pity—he needed your understanding.

"what about your mother?" you asked gently. "did she try to stop him?"

a flash of genuine pain crossed dabi's face. "she tried. in her way. but she was… damaged. the more children she had, the more unstable she became. and he kept pushing her to have more, hoping the 'perfect combination' would eventually emerge." he paused, his gaze distant. "until shoto was born." you'd heard him mention that name before—his youngest brother, the one with both fire and ice. the "masterpiece" that endeavor had been striving for.

"once shoto came along with his perfect half-and-half quirk, i became obsolete," dabi continued. "still had to train, still had to meet his impossible standards, but without even the sliver of attention i'd had before. i was just… a failed experiment."

"so what happened?" you asked, though you had a sickening feeling you already knew the answer. the scars that covered so much of his body told part of the story, but you'd never heard him explain exactly how he'd gotten them.

dabi was quiet for so long you thought he might not answer. when he finally spoke again, his voice was distant, as if he were narrating someone else's tragedy rather than his own.

"i wanted to prove i wasn't a failure. that my fire was special—better than his, better than shoto's." his eyes glazed slightly, lost in the memory. "i pushed myself further than i ever had before. the flames were beautiful—so hot they turned blue. perfect control, just like he always wanted."

he held up his scarred hands, staring at them. "for about thirty seconds. then my skin started to cook." you swallowed hard, imagining a young toya engulfed in his own flames, screaming in agony.

"he watched it happen," dabi said, his voice now eerily calm. "stood there while i burned. i remember looking at him through the flames, waiting for him to save me. he just… looked disappointed. like i'd broken his favorite toy."

"dabi," you whispered, unable to find words adequate for such horror.

"i don't remember much after that," he continued. "i should have died. sometimes i think i did die, and whatever i am now is just… the ghost of toya todoroki walking around in this patchwork body."

you moved then, shifting to kneel in front of him, taking both his hands in yours. "you're not a ghost. you're here. you survived."

"did i?" he looked at you with those piercing turquoise eyes. "toya todoroki died that day. i made sure of it. dabi rose from those ashes."

you reached up to touch his face, your fingers gently tracing the stapled scars. "and dabi is who i fell in love with. but that doesn't mean toya isn't still in there somewhere."

he closed his eyes briefly at your touch, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability before the walls came back up. "toya was weak. he wanted his father's approval, his love. dabi just wants to watch him burn."

"and you will," you assured him. "when the time is right. the league will help you expose him for what he really is."

dabi nodded, some of the tension leaving his body as he focused back on the present, on the mission ahead. on the revenge he'd built his new life around.

"what about you?" he asked after a moment, clearly wanting to shift the focus away from himself. "you said your father was absent. what's that story?" you settled back beside him on the couch, respecting his need to change the subject while recognizing his genuine interest in your past. it was only fair—he'd shared his darkest memories with you.

"not nearly as dramatic as yours," you said with a small shrug. "he just… left when i was three. don't really remember him much at all."

"he ever try to contact you?” you shook your head. "birthday card once a year until i was ten. then nothing. my mother said he had 'commitments elsewhere,' whatever that meant."

"what was your mother like?" dabi asked, his hand finding yours again.

"tired," you answered honestly. "always working two or three jobs to keep a roof over our heads. she did her best, i think, but she wasn't really… present, even when she was physically there." dabi nodded, understanding.

"emotional absence can fuck you up just as much as physical absence."

"yeah," you agreed, surprised by his insight. "she never hurt me, never yelled or anything like that. but she also never really saw me, you know? it was like i was just another responsibility, another burden she had to carry."

"what about when your quirk manifested?" dabi asked. it was a natural question—for most children, the emergence of their quirk was a pivotal moment, one where parental guidance was crucial.

you laughed bitterly. "she was terrified. my quirk isn't exactly… family-friendly." your quirk—the ability to absorb and manipulate the negative emotions of others, turning them into a physical force—had first manifested during a particularly bad day at school when you were six. a bully who'd been tormenting you suddenly collapsed, screaming about the darkness crushing him. no one had understood what happened, but your mother had taken one look at your glowing eyes and known.

"she tried to help me suppress it," you continued. "said it was dangerous, that people wouldn't understand. that they'd think i was villain material." "self-fulfilling prophecy," dabi noted with a smirk.

"i guess so," you agreed. "by the time i was a teenager, i'd learned to control it well enough to use it selectively. started small—making bullies feel their own cruelty, making abusive teachers face their own insecurities." "vigilante justice," dabi said, a note of approval in his voice.

"it felt good," you admitted. "to finally use what everyone told me was a villain's quirk to help people who were suffering. but society doesn't see it that way, does it? using an 'evil' quirk makes you evil, no matter your intentions."

"this fucked-up hero society only sees in black and white," dabi agreed. "no room for the gray areas where most of us actually live."

you nodded, thinking about the path that had eventually led you to the league. "after my mother died, there was nothing holding me back anymore. no one to disappoint, no one to pretend for. i started using my quirk more openly, targeting people who abused their power—corrupt officials, violent criminals the heroes couldn't be bothered with, businessmen exploiting their workers."

"and that's when you caught shigaraki's attention," dabi concluded, having heard this part of your story before.

"yeah. found myself cornered by some pro heroes who didn't appreciate my particular brand of justice. thought i was done for until a warp gate opened up right in front of me." you smiled at the memory, despite the fear you'd felt at the time. "never thought i'd be grateful to see a bunch of notorious villains, but that day i was."

dabi's arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. "lucky for me they recruited you." his voice was gruff, but the sentiment behind it was genuine.

you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. "do you ever wonder what would have happened if our fathers had been different? if your dad hadn't been an abusive monster, if mine had actually stuck around?"

"we wouldn't be here," dabi said simply. "you might've been a licensed hero, using your quirk to help people through the proper channels." "and you?"

dabi was quiet for a moment, considering. "i don't know. maybe the same. or maybe i'd have followed in the old man's footsteps anyway, become the next endeavor." he shuddered slightly at the thought. "sometimes i wonder if that flame is in my blood regardless of what he did to me."

"it's not," you said firmly. "you're nothing like him, dabi. your anger, your fire—it comes from a place of justice, not ego. you want to burn away the corruption, not become the number one hero."

he looked at you with a mixture of skepticism and hope, as if he wanted to believe your words but couldn't quite bring himself to. "maybe. or maybe i'm just as obsessed with destroying him as he was with surpassing all might. different goals, same fucking toxic mindset."

you sat up straighter, turning to face him fully. "no. there's a difference. he hurt innocent people—his wife, his children—to achieve his ambition. you've never done that. you've never hurt someone who didn't deserve it."

"tell that to the heroes i've burned," dabi said darkly.

"those 'heroes' prop up a system that abandoned both of us," you reminded him. "that lets people like your father abuse their children in the name of creating better heroes. that labels children as villains because of quirks they never asked for." dabi studied your face for a long moment before a genuine smile—small but real—curved his lips. "how did i end up with someone who actually believes in me?"

"because beneath all that anger and cynicism, you still believe there's something worth fighting for," you told him, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. "and so do i."

for a moment, you stayed like that, sharing breath in the dusty afternoon light of the hideout. two broken people who had found each other in the darkness, whose scars complemented rather than repelled each other.

"we're going to tear it all down," dabi murmured, his lips brushing against yours. "the hero society, the systems that failed us. and when i finally face him—when endeavor finally sees who i've become—i want you there with me."

"i will be," you promised, closing the distance between you with a gentle kiss. "until every false hero burns."

outside, the sun began to set, casting long shadows through the boarded windows. soon the others would return, bringing with them the chaos and noise that defined the league of villains. but for now, in this quiet moment, there was just you and dabi—two children abandoned by their fathers in different ways, who had found their own path to justice in a world that had never wanted either of you.

and if that path was stained with ash and marked by flames, so be it. some things needed to burn before they could be rebuilt.

side note: this is an old, but long drabble I decided to post because well- why not?

mutuals: @haikyuubby @https-bakugo @va-3 @lotusstarr @kitkat13001 @n3r0-5352

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