#scars from a time you were lost / dabiko

[createinfinity]

@leftoverquirks asked ; “You better appreciate me.” Quick Dabiko in between

shit i’ve heard/said while nannying ; accepting

His head is nestled on Ko’s lap, hands tangled into his hair in a way that has Dabi leaning into every touch like a goddamn cat. He can’t find it in himself to be mad about it, though. Not when every brush of Ko’s fingers through his hair relaxes him until he is all but falling asleep.

─── ❝ Appreciate you? ❞ Dabi huffs a soft laugh, shifting so he can press a kiss against Ko’s palm. ─── ❝ I do this shit for you often enough. You should now that already. ❞ His words hold no bite, though, and Ko is more than good enough by now to know what he means. Yes, I do. Thank you. I love you. Maybe one day, he’ll be better at saying it.

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@leftoverquirks asked; Can get some uhhhh Dabiko "INTIMACY +Random" tho bc u know otherwise I'd send u the whole entire list

non-sexual forms of intimacy

37      discussions about themselves  ( like flaws, shortcomings, passions… )

Fingers tangle easily into the hair that spreads everywhere. Ko’s head in his lap, his hair down, the strands falling everywhere so invitingly. How could he not let his fingers find their way into them, let the strands fall between them and stroke through them. He knew not to pull too hard, knew the way to do it just so to make Ko lean into his touch.

The silence that falls between them is soft, and in the quiet Dabi can hear his breathing. It’s intimate, somehow more intimate that anything else that they’ve done. To sit quietly, to listen to Ko breathe, to thread his fingers through that beautiful hair that he loves so much. Everything else pales in comparison to this, to the way Dabi feels every part of him soften. He doesn’t have to be on edge here, feels all the anger and the bitterness fade away as Ko curls up close to him, his hair everywhere and Dabi feels like he’s on fire but in the best way. The fire the Ko kindles doesn’t bring any pain, just warm honey softness trickling through his veins and soothing all his burnt edges.

He’s never been so lost for someone before, and he knows that he never wants to be for anyone else.

How many times has he thought about telling Ko what he’s about to tell him now? How many times has he not because what the fuck would Ko want with him if he knew how damaged he was? The physical damage is one thing, the scars and the staples and way he sometimes bled. Those things Ko could see, he knew what he was getting in for with those. But everything else? The way he hasn’t slept a full night since he left for the nightmares; the way the guilt still clings to him like a second skin, worse whenever he gets it into his stupid head to go back and Fuyumi has left something on his pillow; the way sometimes the thoughts get too much and when he comes back to himself the staples are scattered across the floor, winking silver-red with the blood he’s torn out along with them?

What the fuck would anyone want with that?

“...My name isn’t really Dabi,” he says. He wonders if Ko ever thought that it was, ever thought that someone would really name their child ‘cremation’. He’s smart, Dabi knows he is, and he’s sure that he can’t have thought that. He’s never asked, though. He’s one of the only people that has never asked, has ever said anything about the fact that Dabi is very clearly lying about his name and who he is. He takes a deep breath, fingers pausing before returning to stroking Ko’s hair gently. “My real name is...my real name is Todoroki Touya.”

He’s quiet for a moment, an unusual feeling fluttering through his chest. He doesn’t feel this way, he doesn’t get nervous about anything, and especially not about Ko. When has he ever felt scared when it came to Ko? Ko has always been a certainty, from the moment Dabi claimed he’d forgotten his wallet and they came to an agreement about another kind of payment to the way he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of the way Ko kisses him.

“Endeavour is my father. He...well. I was meant to be his successor. Fire power greater than this, burning at a temperature he could only hope to achieve. I was meant to be great.” His words are bitter, spat out with the venom he reserves only for his father. “Except I’m not exactly fire proof. My mother, she...she’s got an ice quirk. All the best parts of him and the worst parts of her, he said. His fire power, her ice proofing, see? I was never going to be what he wanted of me.” The words claw at his throat on the way out, singe his throat, weigh down his tongue. He hates talking about it, hates saying it. Hates everything that it reveals about who and why he is.

He runs a thumb across Ko’s lower lip and thinks about kissing him instead. Instead, he speaks again, voice low and quiet, finding that now he’s started he doesn’t want to stop. “He tried, though. He tried to make me what he wanted. The smell of burnt flesh followed me everywhere. Every limit I had, he shattered through them to force me to burn. If I wasn’t fit to follow in his footsteps, then he would make me fit to. He didn’t keep trying to make someone perfect, though. I have...I have siblings. Two of them weren’t right, like me but...but different. And then...then there came Shouto.”

And isn’t this the point of the story? His inaction, his failure? Dabi can’t even bring himself to look at Ko as he tells him. “Then there was Shouto. The perfect balance he’d always wanted. He tried to keep training me, but it was clear that I was useless while Shouto was everything he’d ever wanted. I was tossed aside like the others. I wasn’t of use to him anymore. He didn’t need me anymore.” The familiar anger coils in his chest like it always does when he remembers. Beneath the anger sits so much shame, so much bitterness directed towards himself because he’d failed them.

“It was stupid. I was stupid. I just wanted...I don’t know what I wanted. Not to be his golden child, no one in their right fucking mind would want that, but I guess I wanted...to feel important. I don’t know. It’s fucking stupid and I know it was, but I wanted to prove to him that I wasn’t useless. I wanted him to be wrong about me. So I kept practicing in secret. Found an old abandoned warehouse and kept pushing my limits like he always did.” He pauses, fingers playing carefully with Ko’s hair, taking a moment to think. “In the end, I tried to emulate prominence burn.”

He isn’t sure if Ko will know what that is, and he stares intently at the wall, not wanting to look at Ko because if he does he’ll change his mind and Ko should know. “My body can’t handle that much fire. Not all at once. I...well. You’ve seen me. Someone saw the fire and got me to a hospital. They couldn’t fix all the damage, it wasn’t possible. When I came to...I just ran. I ran because how could I stay? All I’d done was prove him right. So I ran. The burns were...well, I managed. They got tight as they healed, so I stole a knife and a bottle of sake and I cuts in myself. Stole a medical stapler and the staples. I’ve been...like this ever since.”

His hands still work in Ko’s hair, fingers careful and gentle despite the way everything curls in his chest like a ghost trying to break free, the ghost of the person he used to be that should have died but never did. He wonders if Ko will leave, now that he knows.

“...I failed them, Ko. I’m the eldest. I wasn’t able to do anything. I didn’t do anything. I should have been there. I should have helped them. He was right. I’m...all I’m good for is burning everything I ever touch and disappointing the people who rely on me.”

[createinfinity]

name: todoroki touya dabi quirk: cremation - dabi is able to generate blue fire from any part of his body, and his fire is significantly hotter and more intense than regular fire, he is also able to combust anything he touches personality: stoic, aloof, confident, sarcastic, focused, intelligent, crude, violent, proud, angry, bitter

basic info

dabi himself is not very fireproof at all and can only use his quirk for short periods at a time without burning himself further

if he can be sarcastic, he will be sarcastic

has to regularly remove his staples to clean the cuts and reapply them

he hates how hero society is, and he hates endeavour most of all

despite denying any relation, he would protect his siblings if they needed without question

more info can be found here

[createinfinity]

for every 🌷 i receive, my muse will kiss yours

@leftoverquirks

Nights like this feel so important somehow, when Ko is relaxed and his hair is down and it’s everywhere, draped across the sofa and the cushions and every part of Dabi that is within reach. His hair is soft and beautiful, and it doesn’t take much for Dabi to start running his fingers through is lazily, careful not to pull too hard because he learnt the hard way what happens when he does.

Ko is everything Dabi never thought he’d ever. Everything he’d always been made to feel he wasn’t worthy of. As much as he hates the way that Ko makes him soft and vulnerable, he loves more the way Ko makes him feel like he doesn’t have to be on his guard all the time. Like for once he can actually just relax. He doesn’t have to be angry, or bitter, or on edge. He can just curl up and stroke Ko’s hair and press a gentle, lazy kiss against the part of Ko’s arm that is closest to his mouth.

“Hey,” he says, and his voice is low and rough with something that Dabi doesn’t want to think about because if he thinks about it too much he’ll run from the only good thing that he’s had in his pathetic existence. Another kiss press to the closest skin to his mouth, then another just above it. A third, a fourth, trailing up until he can press his lips to Ko’s neck, can leave a mark there so that everyone knows that Ko is his. A purr of victory escapes him at the thought, at the claim, and he presses another kiss against the slowly blooming mark. “Mine,” he breathes quietly. “Mine.”

A rough chuckle, because what the fuck does Ko have that has this hot coil of possession curling tight in his chest. What is it about this man that make Dabi so fucking stupid for him, making him press a kiss to his jaw, his cheek, his nose before pressing their mouths together. A kiss to the other side of his jaw, his neck, another mark. A kiss against his throat, teeth scraping against his jaw. Another kiss to his mouth, deeper this time, a hand tangling into Ko’s hair. Dabi’s lips trail from the corner of his mouth, to his cheek, his ear. “Love your hair,” he says. “Fucking sexy.” He noses Ko’s hair a little, pressing another kiss against the shell of his ear.

The next kiss that he presses to Ko’s lips is hot, too hot, and he knows it is, knows that everything that Ko makes him feel is making him overheat in that way that only happens when he thinks about it. The words stick to his tongue, hover just behind his teeth, would choke him if they could, a plume of smoke without any fire. “Fuck,” Dabi breathes, and his voice is rough with it, with all the things he’s leaving unsaid because he doesn’t know how to say them. So he doesn’t, he just kisses Ko with all the certainty he can’t put into words and hopes that all the things he can’t say come across in the way he cups Ko’s face so gently. Maybe one day he’ll be able to say those words.

Maybe one day, but not today.

[createinfinity]

“You’re so much different when we’re alone.” //Dabiko? DABIKO? DID SOMEBODY SAY? D A B I K O ? (No lucy shut up no one said that)

late nights

He tenses a little at the words, and his immediate reaction is to deny deny deny anything and everything. To say he’s not, to say something rude, to push Ko away and run like he always does when things get too much for his emotions to handle.

But how can he? How can he deny anything, when he’s curled up with Ko, soft and quiet and almost falling asleep, comfortable in a way he never is anywhere else? How can he run away, when being with Ko is the only good thing in his miserable excuse for a life?

So he doesn’t. He doesn’t, he just huffs a little laugh against Ko’s cheek - and that isn’t a gentle little nuzzling kiss, it’s not he’s not that soft - and brushes some of his hair aside in a gesture that is just as uncharacteristically soft as the definitely not a kiss. “I could say the same about you, you know,” he says, deflecting it away from him so he doesn’t have to answer. “I’ve seen how you treat everyone else. Guess you’re going all soft on me.”

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Ko: “If you’d rather burn yourself than take my advice, do please go ahead.” @ Dabi

The Rose and The Mask by Victoria Leybourne Starter List

He pauses on his way out, fire already sparking at his fingertips. Ko’s advice is good, and he knows it. It makes sense, and as much as a big part of him wants to give in and curl back up next to Ko, he can’t. He can’t because they’re going after UA again, and he promised he’d never fail them again, even if they don’t know it’s him who is protecting them.

“Think it’s too late to worry about burns now,” he says, and he glances back over his shoulder at Ko. “...I can’t fail them again, Ko. I just can’t. I’ll see you later.”

And with that, he sweeps out of Ko’s apartment. He’ll save his brother this time. He has to.

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Again Ko @ Dabi bc... idk “ the memories hurt the most. ”

something from my meme tag that i am too lazy to find

He wishes that weren’t true.

Ko’s words ring in his ears as Dabi stares down at his hands. There’s still blood smeared on them from the staples he’d torn out, so lost in the swirling thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed. Ko had stopped him before he’d managed to work his way up to the ones on his chest and face, had swept in and broken him out of it in a way that no one else had ever been able to.

The memories hurt the most.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Dabi wasn’t in pain. His scars pulling tight over his bones, the staples piercing through his skin, the way a yawn sometimes made the corners of his mouth bleed. The pain was constant, an aching reminder of all the things that he could once have been and would never be again.

But it isn’t the physical pain that’s the worst. The worst is remembering the screaming, the crying, the smell of burnt flesh that clung to the room and to him wherever he went. The knowledge that he wouldn’t ever be good enough, the sound of his sister’s voice as she asked him why their dad was always so angry at him, the way everything had shattered when their mother had been taken away and settled across his shoulders.

He could try to run from the memories, but he could never hide from them.

“Yeah,” he says, and his voice is quiet and thick with something that Dabi doesn’t want to put a name to, because naming it means he’s as weak as he was always told he was. “Yeah, they do.”

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Ko: “Tell me, Dabi, do you have any sort of moral code, or do you make every decision purely according to whim?”

The Rose and The Mask by Victoria Leybourne Starter List

While there was definitely reasoning to Dabi’s decisions, he could certainly agree that by the standards of other people, that reasoning was rarely sound. But still, it was there, and he smirks at Ko as he leans back in his seat.

“It’s not so much a moral code,” he drawls. “As much as it is a moral roulette wheel. Sometimes it’s a whim, though, I can’t deny that.”