#Todoroki touya

[aurabirds]

Dabi Birthday comic 2025! Arguably not really a birthday comic, but a quick dive into the "True Ending of MHA" 😂 💛

Disclaimer: Haku (The kid) is Geten's son, not Touya's. For more info about the story, please check my IG or Patreon post :)

[doumadono]

Shiggy & Touya in mine and @crystalwolfblog UA High School AU I absolutely adore Touya rocking the punk/rock vibe, while Shiggy stays perfectly cozy in his sweats. This stunning artwork was a commission from super talented @heliumcake and I couldn’t be happier with how it turned out! ♥

[saturnzlv]

life makes echoes

— parings: todoroki touya x reader

— notes: mature language & like one sentence that’s suggestive. and i can’t write for shit IM SORRYYYYY. i haven’t written in eons, but bassist touya & making a switch city playlist has me hard.

— synopsis: when your boyfriend is a bassist, and you go to one of their practice sessions

♫ echoes by the rapture

“it’s nothing too bad,” touya tells you as he takes his bass guitar case out the backseat.

you’re too busy staring at the small family home in front of you to answer him—the attached garage is open with a drum setup visible as well as a few nicknacks. there’s two people inside, and you think you think you recognize one of them and vaguely remember the other.

touya shuts the car of his beat up ‘98 lexus es with his case in hand, then he gestures for you to walk up the driveway. “just think of it as your own private concert,” he says.

at that, you turn your head to look at him with an incredulous expression. “this is a pretty shitty first concert then,” you say.

he lets out an unamused and sarcastic laugh, rolling his eyes. “you’ll like it,” he affirms. lifting a hand, he points to a blond boy with eyeliner framing his amber irises then a light blue haired boy fiddling with his drumsticks and testing the sound of the symbols. “you’ve met keigo and tomura, yeah?”

keigo, the blond and the one you recognize, sits on the couch against the wall. he has a guitar propped up on his knee as his fingers pluck the strings and his left hand deftly fixes the pegs. as touya plugs his bass into a spare amp in tomura’s garage, keigo lifts his head to glance at touya.

“back in my first year of college, sure,” keigo says as he stands from the couch. “we were in the same modern japanese class.”

tomura eyes keigo with a slight furrow in his brows. “why do you remember that?” he asks, to which keigo shrugs.

cautiously taking a once over at the couch, you look over at tomura on the drums. you’ve heard his name and a few facts in passing from touya. “you must’ve been a second year, right?” you ask as you deem the couch clean enough to sit on. tomura nods in response, and he’s about to speak in reply when touya clicks the button to shut the garage door.

“what are you in the mood for?” touya asks, walking past the drums to stand in front of one of the two mic stands available, positioned a little in front and apart from the drums. he looks over his shoulder at tomura, his question directed to the youngest.

tomura taps the drumsticks against the symbols, getting a feel for some rhythm. you can sort of recognize the tune, and it gets more familiar when the bassline is added by touya. leaning back on the couch's surprisingly comfortable cushions, you await for your so-called “concert”.

however keigo doesn’t step up to the microphone. he instead lifts his hands in surrender. “wait, wait,” he calls, a hand settling on the mic stand as he turns to face his band members. the drummer and bassist cease their playing, and you’re pretty sure tomura’s already annoyed from keigo’s sudden pause. “we’ve already done dance, dance like seven times this week.”

“i thought you got off on singing and making out with the mic?” touya points with a slight glare. “this song is perfect for that shit.”

keigo waves touya off before he adjusts his hold on the guitar strapped around his neck. with a pick in hand, he strums a muted note in a fashioned rhythm. the drums pick up, and keigo steps up to the mic. his gaze shifts to touya as he sings the first drawn out ‘yeah’ of the song, giving him a glare with furrowed brows. he sings a second ‘yeah,’ and before he can continue singing, tomura quits the drums.

“are you just going to stand there?” tomura asks, and you have to stifle a laugh at his obviously annoyed tone.

“i wanna show off,” touya replies very pointedly. “you think i can show off to fuckin’ take me away? no. i can’t. play some better shit.”

with pursed lips and a steady glare, keigo presses his fingers to the fretboard once again and strums a few simple notes going low. tomura gently taps his sticks against the symbols as keigo plays the familiar beginning notes of echoes, and touya complies by adding the bassline.

“i hate this song,” keigo mutters, yet the mic picks up his words.

there’s a small, cocky grin on touya’s lips as his fingers dance down the fretboard of his bass, plucking the notes with ease. “too bad,” he tells his bandmate.

with your leg crossed over the other, you prop an elbow on the armrest and let your cheekbone rest against your fist. it’s the boys' first time showing off to a friend—that much is insanely obvious—and, despite having formed this shitty band just a few months ago, they play well together. tomura, only twenty, plays the percussion as if it were made for him. keigo’s voice sounds borderline angelic. touya’s damn well-versed with his fingers, you know that much.

your foot taps against the concrete flooring of the garage in tune with the drums. there’s no denying that the sound from the trio is pretty good, too. it’s probably good enough to put in your spotify playlist—not only as support for your boyfriend’s band, but because their sound is catchy.

once the song comes to an end, keigo steps away from the mic stand. there’s a small nod of approval from tomura after keigo shoots him a thumbs up.

touya sets his bass down on its stand in favor of walking up to you on the couch to gather your opinion. “so?” he asks, and he leans his hip against the couch’s armrest. his vibrant blue eyes peer down at you as you lift your head up to meet his gaze.

a hum of thought elicits from you, and you give him a small shrug. “not bad,” you say. touya gives you a disgruntled look, and you let out a soft laugh before lifting your head from your fist. “it was good,” you correct yourself.

that cocky grin returns to his lips, and he says, “not bad for a first concert, huh?”

if touya wasn’t the best at reading people, he would have missed that grimace that crossed your features. “let’s not go that far, babe,” you reply.

[mel0njoo]

Never forgotten 🔥

[lura-valentine]

A Dragon Dabi for @doumadono 😊

➡️ Click here for you white version ⬅️

[probablysimpledreams]

Another Chance (Dabi x reader)

a/n: grrrr all I can think about is Touya I just love him so so much!!! His ending and the entire LOV's endings still have me so :( and I've been imagining what it would look like if they all survived the war and got to live. Which led me to write up this fic where the reader was dating Dabi pre-war and didn't know he survived until Shoto sought you out and allow y'all to reunite!!! There's a hint of angst but overall it's very cutey because Touya deserves all the love!!!

wc: 1017

"I've killed over 30 innocent civilians. The firstborn of the Todoroki family. I am going to tell you all why I committed these heinous crimes."

Despite the words leaving the villain's mouth, you couldn't help but smile softly as you rewatched Dabi's reveal video for the fifth time. Work was slow and you were missing him a little more than usual today. Besides, it really was all you had left of him.

It had been almost three months since the war between heroes and villains went down, completely changing the world you once knew. This meant it was coming up on three months since you last saw your lover. Since the night he broke up with you, saying his time in this world was up and you should move forward. Without him.

"Excuse me," a young man says as he approaches the front desk you're seated behind. His voice snaps you out of your spiraling heartbroken thoughts. You take a deep breath, pulling yourself together and throwing on your customer service face. "Are you ______?"

"I am. How can I help you today?"

"My name is Shoto Todoroki." Your stomach drops. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

-----------------------------

For the first time in months, the week flew by. Today was finally the day you were going to reunited with Dabi. As excited as you were, anxiety was growing more and more inside your head. What if he didn't actually want to see you? What if you only make things harder for him? He was already suffering so much, maybe it would be better if you just went home and never came back and-

"He's going to be happy to see you." Shoto smiles as he places a hand on your shakey shoulder, breaking silence in the waiting room where you sat with his siblings and mother, all waiting for Touya to wake up from his nap.

"Yeah the idiot has been saying your name like every other day," Natsuo chimes in with a wide grin. "Still can't believe out of all his secrets, he had a gorgeous partner this whole time. You sure you're not some spy or something?" Fuyumi slaps his shoulder, shooting you an apologetic look before the two bicker. You chuckle at the sight, feeling your anxiety go down. You never imagined Dabi would have come from such a lively family.

"He's awake," a nurse approaches your group. You stand up with his siblings, Rei smiling softly at everyone before you all walk into his hospital room.

"Touya-nii," Shoto is the first to speak upon entering the room. "You have a guest."

"Yeah well fuck off," he grumbles, closing his eyes again despite just waking up.

"Well you heard him ______, guess we should head then," Natsuo teased loudly. Touya's eyes widen at hearing this, sitting up on the bed as his eyes scanned the room, landing on you with a shocked expression.

"________?" he asked in disbelief that you were standing here in front of him. Fuyumi and Natsuo snicker hearing his heart monitor rapidly beat, causing Touya to throw up a middle finger their way before returning his focus on you. You stood awkwardly as he sat awkwardly, unsure what to do next.

"Let's give them some privacy, yeah?" Fuyumi grabs Shoto and Natsuo before heading out the room, closing the door behind her. The silence persists until you speak up.

"Is it okay if I sit?" you ask, pointing to a spot on the large hospital bed. The size of the bed and private room must be a perk that comes with the Number One Hero's money paying for your medical bills. He nods, shakey bandaged hands smoothing out the bedsheets before you take a seat with him. "So Dabi-"

"Touya," he cuts you off. "You can call me Touya. At this point Dabi is gone." He sounded so nervous as he spoke it made your heart ache.

"Okay," you respond. "So Touya," you giggle upon hearing his heart rate monitor speed up again after saying his name. You take a shakey deep breath, collecting your thoughts. There was so much you wanted to say to him. You wanted to yell at him for leaving you. You wanted to cry, thanking the heavens and earth he was still alive. You wanted to make him promise he'd never do this to you again. Yet every time you went to open your mouth, no words would leave. Touya took notice to the conflicting emotions on your face each time you went to speak, the heavy weight of guilt tugging at his heart.

"I-I'm so sorry....." his words were quiet and it sounded like he was about to cry. He doesn't expect you to forgive me. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if you didn't love him anymore. His heart sank as he heard muffled sobs leaving your mouth. He couldn't look at you.

"Can we start over?" you smile as he finally meets your teary eyes. His bandaged hand reaches to cup your face, thumb rubbing away the tears that have fallen from your eyes. He felt didn't deserve another chance at life like this, but god he wanted it more than anything. This time it wasn't because of hatred or spite. No he wanted to live out of love. Out of love for his siblings. For his mother. For you. Especially for you.

"Yeah, I'd like that," his voice is shakey as he speaks. He feels insanely nervous as he asks his next question, as if it's the first time he's ever asked you this. "C-can I kiss you?"

"Please." You don't care how desperate you sound in your answer. You needed him to know how you've been longing for him all this time, how he hadn't left your thoughts once since the last night you saw him. He pulls you into a sweet, gentle kiss. His lips are more burnt than the last time you shared a kiss, but it doesn't matter. He still tastes the same. He's still the same man you love. And this time, neither of you were going to let the other get away.

[plusultraetc]

MHA CH290 | MHA CH388 | Andor S01E12

[kxtsukixoxo]

”boy i know what you desire, oh you’re such a bad bad liar” PART 1

⋆.˚ dabi x fem!reader

“open up (y/n) i don’t have time for your games”

“i don’t have time for this shigs” you removed your glasses, walking towards your back door. the only people who knew about this side of your house, was the league and the only time they ever needed you was when they needed medical attention. you were a huge asset to shigariki and his bandits, atleast according to Kurogiri.

opening the door, you noticed a splayed collapsing figure thrown across shigarakis shoulder, “quick.” was all that left Shigarakis lips, you let out a deep breath rubbing the bridge of your nose, “one quick text wouldn’t hurt y’know, i don’t even have the room prepared” “i’ll pay double the price, i need him alive no matter what.” taking the deepest breath you possibly could, you made sure he knew you were pissed about this “toss him on the table” while you slid on a pair of nitrile gloves, grabbing a metal tray for whatever you need. Shigaraki held down the dark haired man, while he groaned in pain. From the many years you’ve worked with Tomura, he’s never showed this much value towards a person, you couldn’t imagine how valuable the guy is to him. “what happened to him?” “shot.”

deciding you should sedate the big guy, you grabbed a sedative from the bar fridge, grabbing a needle, flicking the bottle twice and transferring the drug. You made your way to him, “hold him down, i need him to calm down before i do anything else” Shigaraki nodded as held onto the man’s legs, you noticed he was covered in scars, adorned by piercings, dazed due to the amount of blood he’d already lost, looking at you through half shut eyes.

tending to his wound, you worked through layers of ripped and wounded skin, “just one bullet?” “yeah” “he’s lucky it’s only one” removing the gloves, you tossed them into the trash, not bothering to check if they actually made into the trash or flipped onto the floor. “i need him to be supervised at all times, he’s strictly on bed rest for the next 24 hours at least” Shigaraki looked at you in disbelief “you’re on thin ice with me shiggy” sighing as you decided to let him rest in your house til he was finally okay to move, Shigaraki left you alone with the absolute stranger, you don’t even know his name, how should you trust him? Kurogiri never mentioned him before, you had no idea the league was expanding. You decided to let the man rest comfortably in your bed, your quirk allowing you to be able to sustain his heavy weight ontop of your shoulders. You placed him carefully on top of your sheets, leaving him to rest while you scrubbed your bloody floor and the steel table.

two bottles of bleach and endless squirts of dish soap later, it looked like the mess never happened. You collapsed onto your couch, eyes drooping as tiredness washed over your face, the muscles in your body relaxed as you lulled into a deep sleep.

“where the fuck am i?” your eyes fluttered open, as you scanned the figure towering over you, noticing a blue flame exerting from his palm,“calm down hotcakes, i saved your life” you chuckled as the flame died “who are you?” “well aren’t you talkative, you should really sit down i don’t recommend moving considering the damage your body endured” stretching your body, deciding to finally get up, just before you could, he held you down, the flame in his palm igniting once again. “who are you.” you shrugged, “i suggest you put your flames away, it doesn’t make you any more of a man, and by hurting me, you disadvantage the league” he watched you carefully, narrowing his eyes as you grabbed a cig from your pocket and lit the end with the flame exerting from his palm “quite a mouth, huh” he chuckled as he grabbed the cig from you and took a drag “you really shouldn’t be smoking” you watched as he titled his head back, smoke leaving his lips.

“(y/n)”

“what?”

“my name.”

“dabi”

dabi would stop by every week with minor injuries, it confused you deeply, small wounds that he could stitch up himself or with the help of an acquaintance but he refused to. eventually you’d wait for him almost everyday, waiting for the rhythmic rap of his knuckles agaisnt your door to let him in, today was one of those days, you watched him walk into the room, clutching his bleeding arm. “i’m starting to think you have a little crush on me dabi” “don’t flatter yourself dollface, i’m just terrible at this stuff” you pouted mockingly “aw, i bet Kurogiri could stitch you up pretty good, don’t ya think?” he chuckled as you cleaned his wound attentively and carefully, “i like it better when you do it” “i know you do, there’s no other explanation as to why you show up at my door at 2 in the morning to stitch up your wounds when you could just ask one of shiggys bandits”

“go on a date with me”

[hokusu]

#DabiHawks holding hands

Hawks, who convinces Dabi to go on a date, where they're both disguised in obnoxiously patterned jackets— a sure crime Hawks dug up from the back of his closet from an old photoshoot— pulled up so high past their mouths and sunglasses darker than night, Dabi doesn't really get it.

Doesn't really know how this is any different than when they slink with the shadows of night, but Hawks looks pleased even beneath the disguise and they're headed off to some unknown dining Hawks fancies. His eyes shift to Dabi's every so often, hand dropped against his side just brushing against Dabi's with every step like he wants to... wants to hold his hand.

So Dabi does it for him, doesn't think about what it means, doesn't think about it being their first, when he grabs Hawks' hand and slots their palms flat together, entwines their fingers and holds it firm against his side.

Hawks' hand automatically curls right along with his, smaller but thicker than Dabi's fingers and it's the first time he's noticed that too.

It feels like the right move when Hawks stares steady fast ahead now, his grip on Dabi's just as tight.

They're in sync, they're walking down the broadlights of Fukuoka, they're holding hands and no one is batting them an eye.

"Y'know," Hawks starts after a moment, "I've never..."

Held hands where it counted, Hawks thinks wordlessly, the last time being the distant memory of his mother's hand grabbing his to keep him from wandering off.

The sentence hangs, but Dabi fills in the blanks.

Never held hands?

Dabi doesn't have to look to know birdie is radiating happiness, the palm of his hands growing warm beneath Dabi's permanent heat.

It's nothing crazy and Hawks knows that, but still it feels like a first of a moment and he's never had, a normal moment before.

Dabi hasn't either.

They don't talk about it and Dabi, doesn't make him.

This is for Hawks.

[hellishtodorokifamily]

Todoroki siblings reference by PH6y0 (ages, heights, hair colors)

[porusuniverse]

When rehabilitation Touya is trying to smile properly for the first time.

This was highly influenced by @suksatoru’s Carnations 🥹🩵

[dabicolorpanels]

Chapter 82: What a Twist!

[shadowoftheshrimp]

"A Flame That Warms"

Dabi x reader

this is an au where dabi survived (i'm not sure if he's alive in the manga) and was sent to rehab for villains.

The mental hospital where you worked had a quiet, calm atmosphere, but in some departments, that quiet was deceptive. One of the patients, Dabi, attracted particular attention. His life was full of suffering and loss, and although he seemed cold and unapproachable, his eyes hid deep emotions.

You were his psychiatrist, and you had sessions with him every week. During these meetings, you noticed that Dabi was not just a dark villain - he was a man with wounds on his soul. His stories about the past were full of pain, but there were also moments of sincerity. You felt a connection forming between you two.

With each session, his coldness began to melt away. Dabi began to open up to you, sharing his fears and hopes for the future. He talked about how his quirk had become a burden to him, and how he wanted to break free from his dark past. You supported him in this desire.

One day, during a session, when he was silent for a long time, you noticed a slight blush on his cheeks. It was unusual for him - he was usually reserved and cold. "You know," he said quietly, looking at the floor, "I didn't expect anyone to understand me."

These words struck a chord with you. You knew that there was something more to the two of you than just a doctor-patient relationship.

A few months of rehabilitation passed. Dabi became more open and confident. When it was time to discharge him from the hospital, you felt mixed emotions - happy for him and sad that your meetings were over.

A week after being discharged, you were walking home after a long day at work. It was already dark outside when you noticed a figure in front of your house. Your heart started beating faster - it was Dabi. He was standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"Hello," he said with a slight smile on his face. His hair was blowing in the wind, and his eyes were shining with some new light.

"Dabi? You... came?" you asked, surprised.

"I wanted to thank you for everything. For helping me become a better person... and for just being there." He handed you a bouquet - they were beautiful black roses.

You accepted the flowers with trepidation in your soul. At that moment, you realized: the feelings between you were mutual.

"I will always be there for you," you said quietly.

Dabi stepped closer and gently touched your hand. In that moment, a new warmth arose between you - a flame of love and understanding. You slowly leaned down and kissed him very gently on the cheek, causing Dabi to blush even more.

And although their paths were full of trials ahead, together they were ready to face all the difficulties and build a new life together.

Hello ヽ(○・▽・○)ノ゛

I haven't written for a long time, and I'd be happy to read your opinion in the comments.

[augustifolia]

Kerosene, part 1

Summary: Emiko, the youngest Todoroki child, falls under poor influence due to her father’s ongoing neglect and emotional abuse.

Warnings: strong language, mentions of abuse and neglect, not a lot actually 🤷

"Touya," Emiko tugged at his shirt, stopping him in his tracks down the hall. Her bright turquoise eyes bore into his as she tilted her head. "Please don't be sad."

Emiko spoke those pleading words like a mantra. The constant tension in the household formed a knot in her throat. It caused a brain fog of mustard gas and stole the air from her lungs. She would say or do anything, all just to make the gnawing ache come to an end.

He forced his scowl in another direction, anywhere out of her sight. Touya pulled her off of him and stumbled into the wall.

"Go play or something, " he huffed. "or go bother Yumi. Anything, I don't care. Just leave me alone." He stormed to his room, fighting the tears that nipped at the corners of his eyes.

The five-year-old girl stood at the end of the hall dumbfounded, with a pained expression, and her arms hung to her side in resignation.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The dead summer sun beat down on the children as the sound of cicadas calls filled the air in the distance.

"Why's Dad always so mean to Touya? All he wants is ta' be a hero too." Her unkempt snow-white hair hid her narrowed eyebrows from view as she sat on the dirt patch poking at a cicada shell with a stick.

Fuyumi watched her with a worried expression. She wanted nothing more than to shield the youngest Todoroki from their harsh reality, to give her just a few years of a normal childhood that she and Natsuo had. But she was smarter than that. Fuyumi had already tried feeding her white lies, as well as telling her things were 'normal' or 'going to be alright', but Emiko saw through it.

In the end, she's still young. Whilst she knows these dark truths exist, how they make her feel, it grants no understanding unto what she can do to fix this cruel helyzet she was born into. What could she do? She had no standing within these walls. She was merely at the bottom of the food chain.

"Dad's just.. like that. Y'know? There's nothing we can do." She dismissed. What else could she say? Emiko always had questions beyond what anyone could answer.

She sighed. She could tell by the way Emiko drove the stick into the dirt that she wasn't pleased with her answer. She picked up the brittle shell and held it out in the palm of her hand to her sister.

"You see how the shell's empty? How the cicada crawled out and flew away a long time ago? The shell's kinda like Dad." She explained with hesitation.

Emiko looked up at her sister. Her thumbs danced with one another on the surface of where her shins met.

"But how?"

"Well.." Fuyumi felt the need to backtrack, but she knew that once something had piqued the child's interest she would chase it with persistence. She lowered her voice and continued with caution. "Dad’s missing something inside of him."

She picks up a pebble and attempts to drop it within the casing without success. "So he's looking for things that'll feel like it gave him something he didn't have."

"But- Dad's the number two hero!" Emiko blurts, her elbows stiffening into a narrow path. Her expression was desperate, as if she were telling her father himself her thoughts. "What more could he want?"

Fuyumi had expected anything but for her to take such a great understanding, causing her to stutter back. She puts her hands up in a silencing manner. "Hey, hey, not so loud, alright?"

She slumps down but nods.

Fuyumi reluctantly continued. "Dad’s wants more. So, he- uhm.." her gaze averted as if looking into an invisible dictionary. "Well.. he had kids. Us. And some of us,"

"Like Touya and Shoto?"

"Like Touya and Shoto," she acknowledges, "he trains to become strong heroes. Ones even stronger than him."

Emiko pouts. "Then why did Dad say Touya couldn't be a hero anymore? He's sad. No.. he's mad. Really mad."

"well.. Touya's quirk hurts him, you know? It's not safe."

She looks back to the dirt. "I guess.."

Fuyumi puts on a smile and pats Emiko's matted, unkempt hair. "There you go. Let's go wash up for dinner, alright?"

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

A thousand footsteps rang through the train station. The monotone voice of a woman named off the departing and approaching transits, while Emiko zones out on the ground below two men sharing a pack of cigarettes.

She'd wanted to take the day off to grieve, begged even. Father had told her that it was almost a decade ago, and she needed to get over it. "Hell week," she called it. Seven consecutive days at the age of four where her world began to crumble.

She steps onto the train, herded like animals bunched together with the rest of those getting off of school or work. She grabbed a handle overhead, burying her face deep in her outstretched arm. Her throat burned more than anything. She woke up early, sat through 8 hours of school, though she skipped her after-school training course. She had an hour-- no, less -- before she got home. All she had to do was hold it in just a little longer. Just a little longer...

The house was empty. Natsuo had completely moved out last week, into an apartment not too far. It was far enough though. Far enough that he no longer had to endure the strain in the household. Fuyumi had convinced him to leave, believe it or not. She was out late grading papers, or maybe it was a cover for staying out longer. But thats not Emiko's sister. She puts everyone over herself, and always has. That's why she thought it'd be best if Natsuo considered moving to a healthier environment to start his life. Yumi didn't mind staying behind in the family home until Shoto and Emiko aged out. "It's more time for me to get my savings in order," she swears. It doesn't make her age any faster, but it sure does help that Emiko is a grade ahead. At least in her mind, it helps.

She fumbles the key until the door opens. Hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

Though her status is impressive by word of mouth, it's not to say that she isn't drowning in the assignments she refuses to do and the classes she skips. While she'd originally applied for the general studies course, word had gotten out to her father that she was accepted into U.A. The man swore up and down that she wouldn't amount to anything more than Fuyumi, but when Aizawa mentioned Endeavor having two children participating in U.A, he couldn't admit that she had been neglected up until that point.

Once she gets the door open, she slams it and throws the keys down on the entry table. She forces her fingers through her tied hair and pushes herself into the wall. She was too fragile to argue today. If it weren't for her previous absences, or maybe if it were any other day, she wouldn't have gone. She hadn't noticed the entry light being on, otherwise she would've expected Shoto to turn the corner. He'd already changed into more comfortable clothes, it seems. She faces back towards the door, wiping her cheeks with her sleeves. It didn't take much to drench them. Or maybe she just had a lot pent up.

"You're home early," She mutters, trying to hide how congested she sounded. "What happened to after-school classes?"

"You didn't go." He states, pressing something icy against the back of her arm. She jumps, turning around to an outstretched gallon of ice cream and two spoons. "I thought today was a good day for a break." he offers.

She had been forced to try for the hero course, faced with her fathers raging fury and his harsh training. She couldn't remember the last time she interacted with Shoto before her father paired them to train together. After Touya had passed, Their mother hurt Shoto only a few days later. A "psychotic break," the doctors called it. Nobody talked much after that. The house was eerily quiet for weeks. She sometimes wonders if the two week rule applies to that. That maybe they just fell out of the habit of talking. It's not like there was ever a lot of time to talk. Their father secluded Shoto from the rest of the family a lot growing up. But there was always a silent understanding to never mention Emiko's quirk to their father. A silent promise of protection from her big brother.

"You shouldn't... risk getting in trouble with father for skipping class.." she mumbles as she looks over her shoulder at the tub.

"I don't care what the old man thinks. Mr. Aizawa said it was alright and it won't be counted against me." He argues, a underlying desperate tone laced into the fabric of his words.

Fuyumi and Emiko were never taken seriously. They were born of the cursed sex, Endeavor believed they had no place in the heroes world. That's not where they belonged. Emiko wasn't like the rest anyway. Endeavor already had his golden child, he had no use for her. So when she crawled into bed with Touya claiming she felt sick with a faint blue glow and delicate ice crystals crackling like fine porcelain on the surface of her skin, it became a silent agreement amongst the children to let it fly under the radar.

That night, she sat on her bed scrolling through her grades: geometry, B+; literature, A+; history, B. English, B. Science, A. Hero Course 1-B, D.

"If you can't get that F up to an A, how do I know you're not going to disgrace the family name once you're in the spotlight?" Father's words echo in her head. "You're humiliating me in front of my colleagues. I know you can do better, your quirk is more than exceptional.”

“Damn it…” she hisses. “Not good enough.”

“Just come talk to Mr. Aizawa. Maybe he can help you transfer back into general studies without him knowing.” Shoto suggests, sitting stiffly on the foot of her bed.

“No good. He watches our grade books like a hawk. Not to mention he’s in touch with Mr. Vlad.. that would just make a bunch of other issues when that plan fails. Vlad’ll wonder why I didn’t go to him, and why I’d wanna leave the hero course in the first place. That’d only get Dad in trouble unless I lied..”

“No, you’re right..” He rubbed his chin, pulling the rest of himself onto the bed in a similar cross-legged position as Emiko. “It’s not good enough to risk it.”

“What if…” She paused. Her eyes lost focus of the screen before she attracted Shoto’s gaze. “What if I dropped out altogether?” The words fell out before she considered the consequences. She broke contact, looking back at the computer. “Just a thought, y’know.” She swallowed.

“No.. No, you shouldn’t even be considering that. Transferring back to general studies is better than that. Or- Transferring to 1-A, with me.” He stands to face her fully, but she keeps her eyes down. “Emiko if you’re struggling I can help you. I’m ahead, I can-”

“Shoto quit!” she snaps, meeting his gaze once again. “I don’t want to be in the hero course.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” he retorts.

“I- well, I don’t know yet..” She stumbles over her words, “But I don’t wanna be a hero!”

Shoto keeps his eyes on hers, his features slowly softening from their panicked state. He sits back down, tracing the fabric that stretches across his knees. “Of course, you don’t wanna be a hero..” he mumbles. “I’m doing it to prove a point. I don’t expect you to do the same. But…” He turns to her, closing the laptop. She looks up at him. “You can’t drop out. Whether you pass or fail your main course, or if you tell someone about Dad, just don’t drop out, alright?”

She sits with his words for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah.. okay.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

“I miss you, ya’ deadbeat,” she whispers off into the cold air.

“How long’s it been?” She readjusts herself as she leans against a burnt-down wooden post. The exact place where her brother was last alive. “Ten, eleven years?” She speaks again, without response.

“I always thought you were so old. A cool teenager, or whatever. But now I’m sixteen, and you’re still thirteen.”

Another moment of silence passes.

“I’m failing my classes, y’know. My teacher said I need to ‘apply myself’. Hate to bring down the average, but I just-...” she sighs. “I can’t care.”

“...I unenrolled, today.” She admitted. The remains of the planks that used to make a house creaked and groaned, but she was used to it. It was all old and broken, and with the weather changing and the wind blowing it was to be expected.

“I’m not really sure what to do from here. I just feel.. Broken, I guess. And every time this time of year hits.. I can’t help but miss you more than anything.” She sits for another minute or so, before standing.

“I’ll.. be back tomorrow, maybe.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Emiko tossed and turned in her bed. She swore she was coming down with a cold. She sat up in her bed. She was excruciatingly hot, but couldn't control how her body viciously shivered.

"Mama" she called out in a tired and sick tone, despite knowing her mother wouldn’t answer. She looked over at her sister in the bed over. It was obvious by the dark spots under her eyes that she had been up far later than anyone else so she could comfort Shoto. He had a rough day training and was littered in bandages.

She shivered, the motion causing a bead of sweat to fall from her face. She hesitantly tip-toed to the last person she knew to help her. She slid the paper door open and snuck to her eldest sibling's bed, wooden panels murmuring under her feet as she stepped.

A small blue glow pulled him from his sleep. She stood silently beside his bed, her arms wrapped around herself as she shook. Small blue flames created an aura around her figure, while intricate sheets of decorated ice patches clung to her skin.

"Touya, I'm sick.." she sniffled.

He rubbed and squinted his eyes, a tired expression the only thing acting as a backdrop.

"Emi?" He confirmed, not completely sure if he was actually awake.

She acted to crawl into bed, but the scent of burnt fabric immediately filled the air. He gasps, jumping to his feet and holding her in his arms. "Hey! Y're gonna start a fire!"

Natsuo shot up at Touya's exclamation, but Touya had already run out of the room.

As he ran down the hallway the small blue flames spread onto the surface of his skin, though it didn't burn. He dropped her into the tub and ran the bath. Touya hastily filled a cup with water and poured it over her head and shoulders. She rubbed her blue eyes and looked up at him.

He took a breath, meeting her gaze. "One hell of a fever, huh?" He laughed nervously, warranting a tired hum from his sister. She wiped the pouring water from her eyes. It had successfully extinguished the flames, but the icy crystals continued to climb her skin. Each crack sounded like porcelain. A gentle hiss when the fire went out.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

“When were you going to tell me that you unenrolled yourself?” Enji paced back and forth as she sat at the kitchen table with her head down. “Where did you learn to forge my signature? Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you in that class? Just for you to what, act like a delinquent? I knew you should’ve been in 1-A. It was those second-rate hero students in B, wasn’t it? If you were in A, Shoto would’ve kept you in line.” She winced as he berated her.

“Are you even listening to me?” He turned to face her. You need to understand that you’ve never been in more trouble in your life.”

“Does that mean you’re finally deciding to be a parent?”

“…”

“…”

“…call your brother.”

“Because he blocked you?”

“Because you’re staying with him until you get your shit together. I’m re-enrolling you first thing tomorrow. Until then, I don’t want to see you until you find your gratitude. Do you understand?”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Her sneakers struck the concrete with a steady cadence, blending seamlessly into the city's bustling symphony.

A drop of oil in a cup of water.

Why did everyone keep just a bit extra distance away from her?

Emiko grips the bag that hung over her shoulder, swaying back and forth. She lets out a sharp hiss.

“Look– I can’t get involved in family drama right now.” She recalled Natsuo’s words verbatim. “I have a girlfriend now, and well- It’s too early in the relationship to have to explain why my sister absolutely has to stay over.”

She grips the metal rung, pulling back in disgust and wiping away the wet rusty substance on her pant leg.

“He won’t actually kick you out. You two just need to back away from each other. Hold up in your room for a while, alright? It’ll blow over.”

She tosses her bag onto the roof and throws her legs over the pony wall with a huff.

“Blow over.” She growls. “Yeah, whatever.” She throws herself down and leans over the city, mindlessly trying to zero in on a person or two. A snowflake melts on the surface of her hand. Her eyebrows pinch together before she ignites the small drop of water with a large, quick flame. A burnt smell stung her nose afterward. It.. it wasn’t her fire. No.. it wasn’t fire at all. Smoke. Cigarette smoke?

“This isn’t where you said you’d be, now was it?”

She jolted, but not much more. She looks over her shoulder a bit at the silhouette.

“What, ‘re you one of my dad’s sidekicks or something?”

“As if.” The man scoffs. He tilts his head back, his teeth just barely reflecting the light of the city. “Hey, let's make a game out of it. Guess again.”

Her eyes fall back on the city with a roll and a snarl. “Guess? Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He pushes himself off the wall and slides down a few feet away from her. He wears a casual black pair of tattered pants, boots, and a hoodie hiding his side profile. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

She sighs and looks back down at the people below. She just wants to be left alone to hash out her feelings, but a distraction would be nice..

“Well? Can I have a hint?” She looks over to him. She can only really see the tip of his nose and his fingers from under the hoodie. Two are outstretched, letting a lone cigarette burn.

“Tch. no. It’d be too easy.” Silence falls between the strangers. “So.. What’s someone like you doing hanging out on rooftops? It’s snowing, y’know. You’ll catch a cold.”

She pulls her knees close to her chest, watching closely as the cigarette briefly disappears behind the shield of his hood.

“You share?” She squeaked out, less confident than she anticipated.

She was immediately met with bright, scornful eyes and dark scars. Jeez, what happened to this guy?

“This?” Ash fell to the wind as he raised his hand. “What, aren’t you like twelve? ‘Do I share’, not with a kid.”

Her shoulders met her ears. More scolding. Nice. “I dunno. I figured you were… y’know.” She trails off.

“A criminal?” he grins, leaning in a bit as he presses the palm of his hand against the cold brick below.

She pauses a moment, sheepishly shrugging and looking back down. “Something like that.”

“So that means I deal Drugs n’ Crap ™ out to kids, huh? This isn't a school PSA. These things are expensive, y’know.”

“So..”

“So? No. Unless you’re payin’ f-” He’s interrupted by the sound of crinkling as she digs through her bag, then proceeds to hand him multiple wadded-up ¥5,000 bills. He stares down with awestruck eyes, before recomposing himself.

“Of course. Rich brats..” he scoffs.

“So? I can pay, I-”

He grabs the wad of cash, pieces and corners poking through the gaps of his fingers. He flips through the bills with wide eyes until his brows furrow. He looks back to her, shoving the bills in his pocket and standing. Her face drains pale.

“Wait, wait, what are you doing?” She steadies herself upright.

“I’m doing you a favor.” He readjusts his hoodie and stuffs both his hands in his pockets, checking over his shoulder. “Consider it a savings account.”

She throws herself into him, clawing at his wrist and the fabric of his hoodie.

“You can’t do that man, that’s all I’ve got!”

“Hey, hey! You said it yourself, you have a death wish or something? I’m the bad guy. Don’t give your money to strangers.” He pushes her down onto the roof off the pony wall. “Especially not guys like me.”

She glares up at him, catching her breath through gritted teeth. With slow, confident steps he makes his way to the ladder.

“Smoking’s bad for you anyway. Smarten up, yeah?”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

She lets out a long, exaggerated sigh as she mindlessly rolls a pencil around her new desk. Her head rests downcast as students gradually enter the classroom.

Shoto hasn’t said a word to her since she got back. Maybe he just didn’t know what to say. Or maybe it was to avoid a fight. To keep the peace, or what little’s left of it.

Emiko sat in a brand new table in the far back corner. Talk had gone around the grownups about a dunce seat at the front of the class besides the homeroom teacher, but it was a short-lived idea. The man was outraged by such a thought, claiming he didn’t get paid to babysit troubled youth. Mr. Aizawa was against the idea of an extra student anyway. She had to be on her best behavior, the best in the class if she wanted to stay. She didn’t want to, but Enji did. The threat of being out of the house for good hangs over her head. “If you can’t handle staying in school,” she recounted his words. “You’ll have to learn how to live out in the world on your own.”

As the number of people in the room increases, chatter breaks out about the new student. How the amount will be uneven, or what a new student is doing joining in the middle of the year, or what to expect.

She groans, rolling the pencil more vigorously until it flies off onto the floor. She sighs, pressing her forehead to the icy surface of her desk.

Her seat was off center. Just kind of thrown in the nearest clearing. Her nearest desk neighbor being a rather tall girl with a tight black ponytail. Emiko pulled herself back up when the girl offered the fallen pencil and a formal smile.

“Momo Yaoyorozu.” She introduces.

She takes the pencil. “Thanks.” the mumbles coldly.

Emiko looks up at her with a rather tired expression, not returning her warmth. “Emiko. Emiko uhm.. Todoroki. You can just call me Emi, though.”

Shoto’s shoulders stiffen. He’s been only a few feet away from her for the past half hour and hasn’t said a word. I mean, he hasn’t seen her in days—

She’s pulled from her thought, her eyes fall back on the girl standing beside her desk with an awestruck expression.

“You’re from the Todoroki family? And you’re seated so close to you’re brother, how lucky!”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It makes sense now, why you’re here. Why so late getting in? I can help you catch up from the past month if you’d-”

“No.” Emiko interrupts. “ I mean, no thank you. I’ll be fine.” She corrects herself.

“O-oh. well, alright. But- if you change you’re mind later on the offer’s still open.” She clasps her hands together, looking to the side before sitting down at her desk.

A group of people fly through the door right before the bell rings, taking their seats as the teacher prepares himself at the front of the class.

She liked him. So far, at least. He only spoke to her when necessary. There wasn’t a class introduction either. He had said something about pros having to make allies on their own time, and if she wanted to survive his class it would be in her best interest to put in her all. Maybe she shouldn't have been so cold with Youyorozu. She’s at the top of the class, she could have been useful.

Oh well. This class was the least of her worries. She just had to pass, not excel. She could if she wanted to of course. If she survived her fathers harsh grading growing up while she was homeschooled, she’d be just fine here. Hell, she was in the top five in general studies, and she didn’t even try.

“Todoroki.” Aizawa had been calling on her at least four times. She snapped out of her thoughts, looking up at him pinching the bridge of his nose. “Did you pick up a textbook? You have a month to catch up on, I suggest you have it readily at hand.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, and your paper?’

“Huh?”

“You need to pick up whatever papers I have set out at the beginning of class.”

“Oh. Right.”

(Leaving out the awkward walk of shame up to the front of the class bc its too brutal 😔)

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

She slings her bag over her shoulder, which she swears tripled in weight since the class began. A chill ran down her spine as she walked down the crowded hall. The thought of going home was less than ideal. She was welcome back already. But for what, passive aggressive comments and more scolding?

Maybe she’d visit mom.

No, she’d just drag unnecessary stress to her mother.

Stay and knock out some chapters in this damn textbook?

She readjusts the bag into a slightly more comfortable position. Pass.

She readjusts the bag into a slightly more comfortable position. Pass.

A cafe? Get some coffee and a pastry—oh, right, no cash. Thanks for that, random mugger. Real classy.

Her steps slowed. She could try and get her money back. Why not? What’s the worst that could happen? Some guy trying to mug her again? She’d like to see him try. She had her quirk… kind of. Okay, maybe she hadn’t practiced much, but even a little fire could scare someone off, right? People usually weren’t stupid enough to mess with a Todoroki. Or so she hoped

Ahead, she sees the distinct color of her brothers hair. She pushes through people, throwing in a few ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’ before grabbing his shoulder.

“Shoto! Hey,”

“Oh, uhm.. Hey.”

“Hey, so you actually haven’t talked to me all day, how’ve you been?”

“I’m well. But.. maybe lay low at home.”

“Tch. I’m not going home. Not right now, anyways. Hey, you wanna help me out with something? I could use some backup.”

“Uhm, actually I should get going.. I’m not going home either. I’m studying with some friends. If… you’re not busy, i think it’d be a good idea for you to come along. We could help you catch up.”

“Nah. but thanks though. Maybe next time.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Cars honked and sped by from her right as she walked down the sidewalk. It was just a bit earlier than it was the other night, but it couldn’t hurt to be early. Who knows how long he was up their before she arrived, or if he visits that roof often. What if it was just a one time occurrence? Just, a random crossing of paths maybe.

She hoisted herself up the ladder. The bag’s a no-go, it weighs as much as she does. She drops it on the first step with a heavy thud, before proceeding the rest of the way up.

She threw herself over the pony wall and took a few steps in, looking around. She didn’t smell burning cigarettes, but the night was still young.

Until it wasn't. Hours passed, just her alone on the edge of a rooftop. She played with a controlled cobalt flame at the tip of her thumb, before standing up with a huff. Three hours passed since the time they originally met. During that time she eventually brought her bag up and went through a few pages. The intro, and half of chapter two. Something about hero ethics.. Maybe she shouldn't have skimmed ahead a few extra pages. Maybe she just didn’t understand it yet. But it didn’t sit right with her. She couldn’t understand its values, much less relate to them.

She packed up her stuff and threw her bag off the roof, before climbing down after it.

Where did that— did someone spill their soda down here since she’s been up there? Eugh!

She walks down the street, bitter and defeated with a sopping, sticky bag. Great.

Her shiny new penny loafers were scuffed and scraped up all to hell on her first day back at school. Oh well. Old high-tops it is.

Of course, her blazer’s stained, too. Guess that’s why U.A sells sweater vests. Maybe not directly the reason, but it’ll work for school tomorrow.

She shoves the blazer deep into her bag. Both will be cleaned, eventually.

She sighs walking down the street. It’s cold and humid, and the guy wasn’t there. She loosens her tie as she waits at the train station.

The train hisses as it comes to a stop. She enters, grabbing a pole with the least people hanging off.

A hand nudges hers as it reaches for the bar.

Those same markings. Huh..

Really, she wants to be surprised, but she’s just not feeling it. Without looking up, she murmurs at him tiredly.

“I want my money.”

“I already told you, I’m saving it. Saving you from throwing around that much cash. Ever heard of ‘thank you’?”

“Tch, tough luck. I’m not thanking you for stealing.”

“Fine, don’t.” He rolls his eyes, extending away from the bar a bit to take note of the other passengers before leaning back in. “You don’t really believe in being a pro, right?”

Her eyes dart up to him, making him retract. He looks the other direction.

“Just saying. The face you were making while you were reading, it was—”

“You were watching me?” she furrows her brows, finally meeting his gaze.

“Shh, y’re gonna draw too much attention.”

She huffs and looks away.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I saw you. You didn’t like what you saw, did you?”

“..I dunno. I didn’t read it in the right order. I was just confused. If you saw me why didn’t you say something? You did last time. How long were you there?”

“Long enough to witness you pick your nose.”

“oh.”

“So? What had you so confused? Hero work should be clear as day, right? If it were so noble or good or whatever.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t…”

“Don’t what? Question the system? Hate heroes?” He leans in slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Come on, throw me a bone here.”

“...what’s.. The point? In following me, I mean.”

“Bold of you to assume I give a shit enough to follow you. Right place, right time, nothing more.”

She pauses. “So..”

“So?”

“So how do we keep meeting? It doesn’t fell as random as you say it is.”

“Pfft.” Everyone sways forward as the train comes to a stop. “It’s not my problem that you don’t get it yet.”

She looks back in his previous direction, but he’d already disappeared. He threw up a lazy wave before getting lost in the ocean of people.

[lura-valentine]

And the white Dragon Dabi version for @doumadono 😊

Personally, I like the black version better. The blue comes across much better.

➡️ Click here for you black version ⬅️

[froagie]