#fuck drawing hands all my homies hate drawing hands
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HAPPY HSY DAY
when your birthday is on april 1st, something like this is bound to happen
#hi yes i am late again but whats new#i love soft yjh do you hear me#i love them so much i want to rotate them in a microwave.#fuck drawing hands all my homies hate drawing hands#orv#yoohankim#yoo joonghyuk#han sooyoung#kim dokja#pressdelt art#pressdelt orv
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WIP because I miss them
#my art#fanart#digital#wip#sketch#critical role#caleb widogast#essek thelyss#shadowgast#what if we kissed in the disintegrating t-dock and we were both wizards#no alt text#will include on the finished thing but words are Hard#fuck drawing hands all my homies hate drawing hands
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false idol
#ugh god im so fucking sick of these assholes#man FUCK kim dokja all my homies HATE kim dokja (lying)#take a shot every time i use bible verses in my orv art#head in my mcfucking hands#kdj#kim dokja#orv#omniscient reader#omniscient readers viewpoint#bard draws
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a dump of some of my older stuff. i can’t remember who this was supposed to be. i think it may have been Nora from Flat Dreams or it was just very early Elizabeth / Elizabeth’s mother concepts. either way, i love victorian blouses so i had to give a little line one.
[ID: five monochrome traditional drawings of an original, stylised Flatland character.
She has a thin, humanoid body with pitch black skin, an eye for a head with long eyelashes and (depending on the photo) she has either a blunt, sharp or no point on top, arms but no legs - her legs have been replaced by a single point. She is wearing a victorian-styled blouse and a long black or grey skirt.
In the first photo, she is standing with her arms by her side and staring directly at the viewer with a wide-eyed expression.
In the second photo, she is sitting down with her hands held together on her lap. She is looking to the bottom left with a gentle expression.
In the third photo, she is standing with her body curving over to the right and holding a lantern in her left hand. Her right hand is in front of her skirt and she is looking to the left with a neutral expression.
In the fourth photo, she is standing upright with her arms lowered and her hands joined in front of her skirt. Her head is slightly tilted to the right and she has a tired expression. She is looking to the bottom right.
In the fifth photo, she is faced sidewards and looking towards the right with a wide-eyed expression. Her hands are lowered in front of her skirt and she positioned as if wind is strongly blowing on her and pushing her to the right of the screen. Her clothes are flowing in the direction of the wind.
End ID.]
#flatland#flat dreams#gravity falls#nora vigenere#i guess (?)#not sure what to tag her as#i’ll keep her outfit in my back pocket tho it’s cute#tw scopophobia#fuck drawing hands all my homies hate hands >:(#idk if i’ll post the rest of the old art i might redraw some of it instead
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So anyways, I heard y'all like Villanous round these parts
#villanos#villanous#dr flug#dr kenning flugslys#demencia#i goofed up the lighting but its alright#im so obsessed with these fools rn its insane#also fuck drawing hands#all my homies hate drawing hands
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goober
#ra ra rasputin#its kodya#kodya karevic#mr karevic#on god i need to figure out how to draw his pre incident haircut because hes funny to me#i got the current one down to a science#idk why he always has white hair somehow though#fighting the stressed allegations fr#also that time he was responsible for the death of like. over 25k people at least#because people keep on forgetting that this story is about Time Bullshit#french russian war of 1812#god why the fuck was he in canon alive at the time of napoleon#mf literally went yeah fuck napoleon all my homies HATE napoleon#at 17#ridiculous ass lore#im so sorry but his is so funny but those mental health issues must be terrible#actually i cant tell whats worst post incident trauma or pre ros trauma#literally cant catch a break so he just kind of freed himself from the narrative and changed his own fate with his bare hands???#and hes not the main character so we dont talk about it#room of swords#how did i forget. that tag#go boy go#alku art
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Sneak peak p2
I don’t want to draw his legs 😫
#Dia wips#Dia draws#ror#ror poseidon#snv#snv poseidon#I’m already cheating and hiding his hands. fuck hands all my homies hate hands#Poseidon wip#Dias sneak peaks
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wings trio wings trio wings trio-
#Nix's wings are not anatomically correct but they're made of fire so I have decided not to care <3#god i love drawing wings /g#fuck hands tho all my homies hate hands /j#i made nix glowy :]#ok but /g you guys are really fun to draw-#wings trio :]#i love colors especially wisp's colors his wings are so fun to color#artwithcat#i keep forgetting my art tag LOL#update i fixed nix's wings so they r slightly more correct the secondaries are still too short but whatever good enough
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It's been a long time since I've actually sat down and drawn something, over a decade at least from the times I would draw pokemon out of a Gen 2 pokedex book into a sketchbook instead of paying attention in class, so this was pretty fun. Had an idea for a sort of AI assistant character that would be the kind of middle ground between Humans and Luminoth that would help facilitate Honoka's use of Luminoth technology a little better, almost like a Luminoth version of Siri. Aside from just being a way to interface with Luminoth tech in a way that would be easier for someone not familiar with it, she is also the voice and text for Honoka's scan visor she also gets from the Luminoth.
Her name is super not clever at all, I just took google translated words for "everything" in latin (Omnia) and "moth" in greek (σκώρος - skóros/Skoros) since she's an AI that would know A Whole Lot (since the scan visor just knows like damn near everything) and also based off of the Luminoth, which are moth people, essentially she's just Everything Moth. I was originally going to give her a proper face, but I really like the kind of Digital On Top Of Metal look I tried to go for instead and the placeholder face just became her actual face by the end.
The form on the left is her original base that's lacking the touchups I started to give her once I was making her clothes that I included just to show how I tried to incorporate Luminoth physiology and stuff onto a human shape (minus the wings and chest/neck fluff because I was having a hard time coming up with how to draw it/make it look good ;u;), and the right is the more cleaned up and finished version of what she would look like normally. If it's not obvious, I've never drawn clothes before or even tried to design them in the first place so they might look a little amateurish, especially with my attempt at lighting and shading (another thing I've never really done before), but I still think she turned out pretty good. ^u^
#honoka#metroid#metroid prime 2#this damn tablet finally getting some use lmao#ive also never drawn hair so that was also a struggle but it was easier once i decided to make it look like its made of light instead#maybe one day ill learn how to make an actual face for her but until then she has Alarm Clock Face#also fuck drawing hands even the 3 fingered ones she has were a bitch to try and make presentable all my homies hate drawing hands
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kymil, the liar kicked out of heaven
ai couldn't have created this babygirl of a man even if it tried
he s got a very complex backstory but my dumbass forgot to write it down as i was thinking about it and now im just making shit up as i go but id LOVE to talk about him if anyone was interested
ALSO REMEMBER TO WRITE YOUR IDEAS DOWN WHEM YOU THINK ABOUT THEM EVEN IF YOU THINK YOU WONT FORGET THEM YOU WILL TRUST ME!!!
#tumblr draw#my draws#hand drawn#drawing#my art#art#traditional art#traditional drawing#traditional illustration#traditional sketch#i drew this#oc art#my ocs#dnd art#dnd#dnd character#dnd oc art#dnd oc#cleric#dnd cleric#aasimar#dnd aasimar#angel#sword#cool sword#graphic design#graphic art#fuck ai all my homies hate ai#angel wings#glassheartlamb
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Hello! Do you take requests? If so I have oke for you :)
It’s similar to the recent one about Sebastian hugging the reader. Could it be with Omi this time?
I love your writings, btw.
I absolutely can !!! And thank you so much ♡♡
Let me in. - Ominis Gaunt
Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Fem!Reader
Words: 1k
Warnings: fluff, kissing, angst and comfort, Ominis is touch-starved, Ominis is insecure, neck kissing, fuck the Gaunt family all my homies hate the Gaunt family, we all know Omi's past, cuddling and snuggling, House is not specified, (implied) established relationship
Summary: Ominis Gaunt has never learned how to love. But he has you, and you're willing to teach him.
A/N: I hope you like this!! I followed a different tangent than Sebastian's.
Masterlist
you can find the whole fic here on ao3 as well
Sebastian's version
He wishes love were easy.
But nothing had ever been easy in Ominis Gaunt's life.
When he opened his heart to her, he opened something deep. A Pandora box of sorrow and grief and everything he'd buried so deep he'd forgotten about it.
Unfortunately, his body never forgets. It shows when she takes his hand. It unleashes when she brushes his hair. That gnawing, scorching flame burning where her touch remains.
She asks him how he's doing, he doesn't answer, words trapped behind his teeth like in a prison of jelly and guilt. He thinks she doesn't really want to be bothered by his problems.
She takes his hand while walking, he moves it away, clutching it to his chest in an attempt to build back that armor she threatens to break every time.
"Ominis," she speaks quietly in the night, when he keeps her always at an arm's distance. "Please, come here."
He wants to cry.
"I don't know how."
The smell of her hair lingers on the pillow when she leaves, and he quietly brings it to him, burying his face in the softness of her girly perfume. Even then, he feels too much freedom; taking up a space that isn't his own. He turns his back to it.
She seems tired today.
"Ominis." Her voice is weary, sad. She's near the fireplace, brooding. He feels like he's done something wrong.
"What is it?"
He balks before approaching her, his voice coming out in a sycophantic squeak that makes his blood run cold. He is afraid: afraid she'll find him some day. That she'll offer her hand and he'll take it with no qualms, allowing her to pull him up, away from those doubts cramming his mind when she gets too close.
"Why do you never let me in?"
He's drowning.
Why? Why? The answer is immediate, pulled right from his brain by that tight awareness that has always been more of a curse than a blessing. Because Ominis Gaunt feels that he is phrogging in other people's existence until they get tired and throw him into the nearest garbage. Because he has never found a place where he could sit down, wind his legs and feel at peace. Because if one day someone finds him with his defenses down, when he hits the bottom of the bin headfirst, he will never forgive himself.
"I don't know how." His inveterate answer comes, drawing a sigh from her. She always drops the subject after, and he feels safe.
This time, she breaches the armor again, and he has got no time to glue it back.
"Come here."
His hands tremble when he follows, sitting down next to her. She opens her palm to him and he feels it on his leg.
"Take it."
Her fingers feel soft to the touch, slipping between his as if filling up a space in his heart he had missed, pushing back his doubts and making a home for itself. He holds her hand and runs his thumb on her knuckles.
"What does this mean?" He asks feebly.
"That you can do much more."
He feels the corner of his lips push down in a grimace. "I don't know h—"
"I'll show you."
Her movements are languid and elegant like a snake, and he feels like she might strangle him and cut his breath and leave him for dead. But he wants to keep holding her hand.
"What do I do?"
"Come here."
This time, he listens.
She lets him move first, wrap his arms around her, as if testing her shape. He runs his hands over her delicate ribs, then down to the soft curve of her waist, then around her; feels the weight in his arms, like she could crush him at any moment. But she doesn't.
She lets him pull her on him, giving him her body. His hands are shaking and he feels inadequate to hold her; to keep her safe and not let her fall.
"Just do what feels right," she whispers.
None of this feels right. But it feels comfortable, and it feels different, and it feels like his heart is slowing down and his weight is meeting the ground and pushing against it like he will never need to get up anymore.
And there are her lips. He feels them with his fingertips; the curve at the top, the soft flesh, the sticky texture of her lipstick. He brings his trembling mouth to hers for the first time and pulls away just as quickly.
"I'm sorry…" he almost cries again.
"Do it again."
He swallows and pushes his lips against hers. He doesn't have the courage to move and breathes against her mouth.
She giggles and his heart breaks, because of course he was doing it wrong. "I'm sorr—"
Her mouth moves against his, takes his bottom lip in a quick suckle and then frees it again. He holds his breath until he can't stay still anymore.
"How does that feel?" she asks.
"More…"
Something inside him cracks open at her taste, pushes and pulls and crushes him, and he holds on to her. It's all too much and it's all not enough. He licks his lips and tastes her lipstick and he wishes he could see her.
When she cups his cheek, he flinches.
"This feels…"
Horrible. Good. Terrifying. Perfect. Different.
"We can go slow," she says, and it's more than he could ask for. "But I'm here, and I'm yours."
He nods and attempts to find her, and he presses his forehead against her collarbone. She's warm there.
"Thank you," He's crying against her skin, and she skims her hand against his back.
He feels naked, a brush of cold hair against his chest where his defenses have cracked. She's pulling his armor down with a gentle touch, and he lets her until he hears it hit the ground loudly.
"You can relax now." He thinks he hears her say. Perhaps it was a dream. And when he hesitantly brushes his lips against her skin, he allows her in.
#hogwarts legacy#ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt fanfiction#ominis gaunt fic#ominis gaunt x you#ominis gaunt x mc#ominis gaunt x reader#ominis gaunt x y/n#ominis gaunt x oc#ominis gaunt imagine#ominis x reader#ominis x mc#ominis x you#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#hogwarts legacy fandom#hogwarts legacy fic#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy ominis#ominis gaunt fluff#harry potter#wizarding world#harry potter fandom#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#ominis#hogwarts legacy fluff#hogwarts legacy angst#my writing#fanfic writing#writing
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*shows up to the party eleven years late with these* hi wtnv fans 👋
[Image ID: Six digital drawings of Cecil Palmer and Carlos the scientist. Cecil is a thin person with light brown skin, shoulder length ombre dark brown to blonde hair and purple eyes. She has a moustache, and wears cat eye glasses and purple cat ear headset in most of these. She has a long face and visible eyelashes. Carlos is a fat hispanic man with brown skin, dark brown curly greying hair in a short low ponytail and some facial hair on his chin.
The first image is an uncoloured chibi drawing of Cecil, who is smiling. She is very small with big shiny eyes, and doesn't wear her glasses. The thought bubble next to her reads: "Carlos".
The second is another uncoloured drawing of Cecil. She is shown bust up, leaning on her hands. She is not wearing her headphones, instead wearing plastic baby earrings, which are labeled as such. She closes her eyes and smiles with an open mouth, saying "Neat!!" with flower doodles around her.
The third is a simple monochrome green full-body of Carlos, who wears a NASA tee-shirt, jeans, a lab coat and sneakers. He wears big square glasses, behind which his eyes are not visible. He holds a clipboard and frowns slightly.
The fourth is a coloured bust of Cecil, showing two middle fingers and frowning. She wears a shirt that reads: "MILF", below: "Man I Love Fishing". White text in the meme font impact reads: "fuck Desert Bluffs / all my homies hate Desert Bluffs".
The fifth is a coloured green toned bust of Carlos. He wears green lab goggles and frowns slightly. There are two red hearts and messages around him. The text reads: "autism" and "cool scientist goggles".
The last is a full body of Cecil dying in a glue trap. She wears a backless red plaid top, pink tutu, cowboy boots, a green feather boa, and yellow rubber gloves. She lies face down in the family guy death pose on a white rectangle. There is a heavy vignette on the drawing. End ID.]
#scribbles#wtnv#cecil palmer#carlos the scientist#cecilos#wtnv cecil#wtnv fanart#welcome to night vale#cecil gershwin palmer#im a bit past 40 so no spoilers
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Helloo it's Ness anon💜 seeeing Ness in the new chapter leaks made me sad (fuck Kaiser, all my homies hate kaiser 🤬) so can you do Ness with feminization and hand kink?
chapter 202?? (or something dropped about 203??) god I skimmed it but I haven't like looked at it in depth except Kenyu my baby you best boy (it's true all the homies do hate Kaiser)
event ~ ♡ (closed)
cw: fem!Reader, dom!Reader, crossdressing, m!masturbation, guided masturbation, degradation, feminization, referring to Ness's dick as a clit, unedited
word count: drabble
character(s): Alexis Ness
DNI :: minors, blank blogs + m!Reader blogs
"You love rubbing your clit for me don't you baby girl?"
Chewing the inside of his cheek there was nothing Ness could do but nod slowly as his hand worked up the length of his shaft to his swollen gland. One hand squelching the jelly like lube around his throbbing cock as he did so. While the other held up his beautifully pleated skirt so you could see it all out on display. Of course looking down at himself, with his mop of thick hair crowding his face to hide his desperate fucked out looked as he continued to stroke himself in front of you on his knees.
"Excuse me?" You reached out and grabbed the wrist connected to the hand squeezing up his own cock, "Does baby girl not know how to answer anymore? Should I show you how to rub your own little clit huh?"
"S-Sorry-" Ness managed when you stopped him from edging himself further, "Sorry- Yes- Yes I-"
"Yes you...?"
"Yes I love rubbing my clit for you ma'am." Ness babbled with his head following suit. Nodding like a cute little bobble head was all he could do as a grin spread on your face at his obedience, "Please. Please show me how to rub my clit ma'am. It hurts when it throbs...."
Loosening the grip on his wrist to a kinder one. Didn't alleviate the control you held over his body. Without concern for how he'd been stroking himself before hand. You took it at a speed you found more fitting for someone as desperate. Guiding his own closed hand up and down his shaft with the squelch of lube filling the room. Ness flush with color in his pretty little features as you did so. Vividly feeling the throb of his own cock when you moved his slimy hand to the tip of his cock and demanded he squeeze it a bit. Past his lips fell a pitiful moan that only confirmed your suspicions when a foggy bead of precum began to ooze out of his puffy slit.
"You know..." Mumbling as you ushered his closed fist up and down his length as more and more cloudy precum leaked from his slit. Each time his own hand swiped over his sensitive gland his balls would tighten up and his breathing would hitch in his chest. Only for you to draw his touch back down by your own guidance and restart the process all over again, "Some girls squirt...you gonna squirt your juices all over your pretty pretty skirt for me?" Your touch ushered his hand back up to his tip. When Ness held his breath waiting for you to guide him back down, his eyes grew wide realizing you weren't moving his hand away from his tip. A ticking time bomb as you encouraged him to keep squeezing his cock head while you stared at him with a grin, "Squirt all your pretty girl juices for me. I know you can do it. Make a mess like a naughty girl and- Oh! Oh there we are!"
There was no stopping it. Ness's legs trembling and the breath he'd been stealing away choked him as he gasped. Body trembling while you forced him to hold his own cock. The first thick rope of cum landing on your thighs. Follow by a dribble of a pathetic load while beads of thick gooey cum ran down his lube covered cock. Not mixing as you refused to let him stroke himself. Ness had to give into the mercy of his tightening body to let his orgasm finally play out to it's last little bit of drooling cum to roll down his shaft. Utterly exhausting him as he sat back on his knees limply with a sigh. Head hung low. He didn't even have it in him to look up and see what you were doing. All he knew was after all that his poor cock was still throbbing for more.
#:: mini event~! ☆#:: ness.anon~! ✩#bllk smut#bllk x reader#blue lock smut#blue lock x reader#bllk ness#alexis ness smut#alexis ness x reader#ness alexis x reader#ness alexis smut
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Overdue Apostasy ༺♡༻ preview/teaser
this is more of a test since i don't have any experience with tumblr so bear with me! Feel free to leave constructive criticism!
༘⋆ Summary:
In the nation of Faerûn, a new season of love begins for the upper echelons in the nation's capital Baldur’s Gate, gathering a plethora of unwed Lords and Ladies from across the nation. For Miss Tav Neredras, the season only promises another disappointing series of suitors and failed courting, until one night she suddenly finds Lord Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep on her doorstep with a gunshot wound through his stomach, seeking discreet refuge and recovery after a devastating duel.
༘⋆ Pairing: lord!gale dekarios x fem!reader/tav
Future chapters: brief wyll x reader and mentions of (previous) gale x mystra relationship)
༘⋆Warnings: blood and bullet wounds
Future chapters: predatory/pedophilic behavior (fuck mystra all my homies hate mystra)
༘⋆Notes: set in the regency era and very loosely inspired by bridgerton (I’ve never watched it)
more info to come when the full chapter is finished!
You cursed yourself for getting in such a position as you heaved a bloodied body onto your goose down bed sheets, dark sticky crimson clinging to your skin and the front of your white nightgown. The body landed with a soft flump, leaving a suspicious looking trail of blood towards the center of your bed. Normally you were against opening the door for strange men in the middle of the night, but a gunshot wound to the stomach usually prohibited acts of violence, unless the attacker wanted to bleed out to death, so you deemed it safe enough. You made sure to grab a fire poker from the fireplace on your way back from the medicine cabinet, just in case.
The blood was beginning to pool underneath the man, signaling that if you were to do anything, it had to be done with haste. Fighting back a gag at the tangy metal aroma of blood, you undid his vest and undershirt, pulling it off and discarding it somewhere on the floor. The bullet had thankfully wedged itself near the surface of his flesh making it an easy grab with a pair of tweezers. The wound itself proved to be more of a challenge. Stitches were required to stop the bleeding, but the needle slipped around between your fingers, and attempting to wipe the slick blood off your hands just made more of a mess. After a bit of adjusting, and a lot of wiping, you finally managed a messy line of seven uneven stitches.
For the first time in the past half hour, the thumping of your heartbeat began to fade from your ears, allowing you to process what had just happened.
You took a moment to look him over. He looked around your age. Around twenty– no, twenty-one? It was hard to tell with so much hair in his face. From what you could make out, he appeared to be a reasonably attractive man. Perhaps a bit unkempt, you thought, but as to be expected at this time of night. With his chestnut brown hair, he vaguely reminded you of Clyde, your childhood dog. Though intended as a compliment, you made a mental note to keep that one to yourself when–if ever–he awoke. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that was drawing you to the curve of his jawline, but with a start, you realize you had been staring for far too long. Blinking away your daydreams, you see the scene in front of you as it truly is.
There was a body in your bed.
You frantically reach over the bed to press two fingers firmly against his neck, feeling around for a pulse. Was he even still alive? A slow and faint periodical throb against your fingertips pulls a heavy sigh of relief out of your weary body, and you slump against the side of the bed. Thank the gods.
Unfortunately, the fact he was alive did not solve the strange-man-in-bed issue. Once he had been securely wrapped in several layers of bandages–any more and he may appear mummified–you weren’t sure what else there was to do. So, you recruited the only person in the household that could keep their mouth shut. Your older sister, Euphemia.
***
“By Jove, sister… you’ve killed a man…” Euphemia looked pale-faced and wide eyed in horror at the seemingly lifeless body and blood adorning your room.
“Stop it.” You hissed under your breath, closing the bedroom door behind her. “He’s not dead. And would you keep your voice down?”
Euphemia looked from you to the body, then to your crimson hands and nightgown. “Are you to tell me he is… sleeping?” She asked, incredulously, her voice quavering.
You sighed, exasperated. You grabbed her wrist, much to her resistance, and forcefully pressed her fingers against his neck. “There. He is very much alive. Now will you please help me?”
Your sister sighed in relief. “Gods… He looks mauled.” She eyed your butchered stitching. “Not a slight on your abilities, of course. Spoken from a place of love.”
“You can mock me all you want when we break fast, sister.” You toss her a wet washcloth. “Make haste and get the headboard. I’ll deal with the floor.”
“I merely jest.” She replied, rounding the bed beside the body.
As she approaches the unconscious man and freezes. The cloth falls from her hand and you hear a sharp intake of breath. Startled, you jump up from your knees.
“Hells, are you hurt?” You turn, expecting to see a splinter or bruise. Alas, Euphemia just stood shell shocked, staring down towards the body. You looked at the man yourself, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Euphemia leaned closer to the body and swept the hair from his face. “I’ve seen this man’s portrait before.” She crouched beside him, studying his features. “It was in a museum of art from other nations.” Closing her eyes, she recounted the museum. “So this must be…” Euphemia turned back to you, mystified. “This is the Viscount of Waterdeep.”
You stare at her. “Who?”
“Lord Gale Dekarios.”
Author's Note:
thanks for reading! I really appreciate it :>
do you have a preference whether the full fic should use y/n or tav? (or give the reader a nickname of my choice while still technically being y/n or tav)
#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#wyll ravengard#bg3 gale#baldur's gate 3#gale x tav#gale x reade#x reader#alternate universe#regency era#bg3 x reader#bg3 x tav#baldur's gate 3 x reader#tav bg3#wizard of waterdeep#gale romance#gale dekarios x reader#gale dekarios x tav#gale x reader
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Healing Touch
Dabi x Fem!Reader fan fiction
Synopsis: You encounter an injured Shigaraki and offer your healing quirk to his aid. Little did you know, healers were hard to come by in the underground and Shigaraki takes a liking to your skills. To further his cause, he kidnaps you and holds you captive under the watch of the LOV. You play the role of the LOV's little healer while you think of a way to escape. Unbeknownst to you, the pyromaniac with a cold heart begins to melt in your presence. Your compassion and wit draw him in, all the while he swears it's only curiosity he feels toward you. But when your touch heals his burns and your personality soothes his anguish, Dabi begins to wonder, what exactly is he feeling for you? And why the hell does he feel so torn up when you slip away?
Warnings/Tags: mention of blood, Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, female/afab reader, healing quirk, sexual tension w Dabi, implication of non-con (not by Dabi), Muscular is a creep, Dabi gets a new fit, aftermath of UA training arc
Author's Note: TIME FOR SEXUAL TENSION. All my homies hate Muscular, FUCK him. He gave me bad vibes during the UA training arc, so I’m trashing on his character. Handing Dabi a few W's before he gets couple L's. Also I'm feeding you guys a long chapter so buckle the fuck up. Warning: Muscular is a creep and implies noncon.
Word Count: 7.8K
Link to AO3
Chapter Seven: I Really Hate This Guy
You ended up recovering just fine after eating and sleeping your dizzy spell off. By the next day, it was as if nothing had happened at all. As far as you were concerned, nothing did really happen. Your memory of the incident was fuzzy. You knew that you pushed yourself too far and fainted for a moment, but what came afterwards was a complete blur. It must not have been too much of a disaster, considering you awoke in your bed without any bruises. You reason you must have simply fallen into your bed. You just hope you didn’t cause Dabi any trouble. Little did you know that Dabi was the one who caught you, brought you snacks, and made sure you were okay before leaving you to rest.
Your morning goes by quietly as you freshen yourself up in the bathroom. There’s not a sound in the other rooms, meaning the others are either still asleep or away on missions. With your morning routine done, you exit the bathroom and enter the hallway. As you are heading to your room, you notice Toga’s door is cracked open. Curiously, you creep forward to her door and quietly swing the door wider. The hinges softly groan, causing you to hold your breath and cringe. But when you release your breath and press on, you notice that it’s empty. She must be out on a mission. You swallow thickly, feeling some anxiety rising within you. Now is the perfect time to snatch a knife. You glance over your shoulders, checking to make sure the hallway is clear. If you’re gonna go through with this, you can’t have any witnesses. When you realize the hallway is clear, you make your move. You quickly, but quietly, stride over to Toga’s desk and pick out the smallest switchblade you see. Your heartbeat patters in your ears and your hands shake as you take the knife and tuck it into your waistband. Not wanting to risk being seen and questioned, you make your leave, immediately heading straight to your room.
You relax a bit once the door is shut behind you. The hard part is over, the next step is to hide it away. You let your back rest against the door as you chew your lip and weigh your options. As far as you’re aware, no one except Dabi or Toga have ever set foot into your room. Which means, almost any place that’s out of plain sight and hard to quickly get to would be a good place. After a few more moments of contemplating, you settle on a discrete location and stow it away. You hope you’re now one step closer to freedom.
You steady your wildly beating heart by taking a few breaths, assuring yourself the stashed knife would not be found. It’s important you get your emotions under control, your shaking hands and nervous demeanor would raise suspicions, should you let them show. You’re unsure of how many minutes have passed before you finally calm yourself. What you do know, however, is that you’re fucking starving. It’s time for you to head downstairs.
You leave your room and quietly make your way to the kitchen, checking to see if the bar is empty along the way. Despite how quiet the base is today, you’re definitely not alone, as your eyes catch a glimpse of Shigaraki and Mr.Compress conversing together in the bar. Looks like your escape route is guarded again, not that you’d have any way out anyways. You expected as much, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less disappointing. Still, you have to hold onto hope that someday they will slip up, either by allowing you enough time to attempt at picking the lock, or being stupid enough to leave a key behind. You’re not sure how likely that is though, given how most of them warp in rather than using the front door anyways.
You move on from the bar and onto the kitchen. The cupboards are surprisingly well-stocked, despite Shigaraki seemingly not generating much income. Villainy doesn’t normally pay the bills very well, after all. You wonder if there’s a mysterious benefactor helping the LOV behind the scenes. Whatever the case is, you certainly don’t mind if it means you get to eat. You fix yourself a quick breakfast and eat in peace, feeling partially amazed by just how mundane your day is going so far. This has to be the most boring day you’ve experienced in captivity.
You’re premature in your thoughts as the semblance of tranquility is shattered by a commotion in the other room. Judging by the voices, it seems the others are back from their mission. When there’s a mission, there are usually injuries too. You wash your empty bowl in the sink and head to your room, figuring that they’ll be looking for you there. As you head to the stairs, you meet Dabi in the halls.
“I’m assuming you’re back from some sort of mission?” You ask him.
“Yep,” he confirms.
“Any injuries?”
“Not this time, it was just recon work.”
“Looks like your staples got snagged though,” you point out. His fingers shoot to his face, touching the area and then feeling the blood stain his fingers. “It looks like they’ll need to be replaced.”
“Yeah, seems like it,” He agrees. “Didn’t you mention once that you had some?”
“They’re in the first aid kit,” you verify.
“You mind bringing them over to my room?”
“Yeah, I can do that.” You leave to fetch the necessary medical supplies, digging through what you have in your kit. Although he didn’t outright request it, you grab disinfectant, gauze, and a medical stapler. You never really paid it much mind, but through your sifting, you notice he gave you equipment that goes well beyond amateur first aid. There are even suturing tools and nylon threads. But conveniently, nothing you could use to your advantage.
‘Where does Shigaraki even get all this stuff,’ you wonder. It’s weird, you think, how Shigaraki managed to get his hands on professional medical equipment. You think back to those sets of locked doors and the hospital-like smell you saw, once before. There’s gotta be something weird behind those doors, to warrant Shigaraki’s secrecy and for him to have all these medical supplies.
Not wanting to keep Dabi waiting any longer, you shake the thoughts from your head and scoop up the necessary supplies. You head over to Dabi’s room and knock on the door. He calls for you to come in and you oblige, opening the door and shutting it behind you. You realize just how different his room looks in the light, as when you helped him to his room that night, everything was shrouded in darkness. You’re able to see just how bare his room is. There’s not many personal belongings in his room. In fact, his room isn’t much different than what yours looked like when you first arrived. Though, there is one thing he added.
You didn’t notice that one night, but there’s a mirror on his dresser, likely for this very reason. He leans over and looks into his reflection, eyes focusing on the bent staples. Unceremoniously, he yanks out the staples and then holds the area together with his free hand. You can’t help but stare at the scene, mouth agape. It’s no wonder Shigaraki wanted a healer, this man is incredibly wreckless with his personal health.
“You should really disinfect that first,” you chide.
He shrugs. “Kinda hard to do with just one hand, I’ll pass.”
You sigh and twist off the cap from the disinfectant, pouring it onto a gauze. Looks like you’ll just have to take it upon yourself to clean the wound. You sidle up to him and snake your arm in between his. Your hand replaces his and supports his cheek. He lets you take over and watches your movements through the mirror as you dab the area with the gauze.
“There, that should do it. Can you hold this again for me? I’ll get the stapler,” you request. Your hand brushes his as he holds himself together once more. You retract from his space, walking over to toss the sullied gauze into the trash before retrieving the stapler. It’s when you go to approach him again that nervousness starts to settle in your mind. Wait, how the fuck do you do this? You’ve never really done this before. Inserting staples is where your medical knowledge tapers off. He seems to notice your uncertainty, as he motions for you to hand over the staples. You oblige, feeling a bit relieved. Inserting staples is not something you’re entirely familiar with. Given the state of his body, he’s much more accustomed to it than you are. He uses the stapler and rejoins the flesh without a wince.
“Do you have any burns today?” You ask. He shakes his head.
“No, I didn’t use my quirk,” he explains. “Wouldn’t mind you taking care of this, though.” He gestures to the scar underneath his eye, the same one that just got the staples replaced.
“Yeah, sure thing,” you agree. You figured he might ask such a thing, it seemed painful.
“You’re always standing when we do this. Here, sit,” he encourages, tapping on his desk nearby. You suppose he’s right, but you wonder what warranted such thoughts. You’d hate for this to be the case, but you wonder if it has anything to do with your fainting yesterday. With no other place to sit except his bed, you acquiesce to his request and hop onto the desk. He stands in front of you and you notice it’s a bit hard to reach his face without bending forward awkwardly, on account of your thighs getting in the way. You part your thighs to make it easier, allowing him the space to come closer.
His hands are splayed on either side of your thighs, bearing some of his weight as he leans down to your level. You try to focus on the task at hand, attempting to avoid thinking too deeply on how his hips feel in between your thighs. It’s proving to be a hard task. You try to steady your breath before your hand touches his face, beginning the healing process on the skin.
His warm fingers deftly brush against the skin of your thighs. The featherlight contact pulls a slight shudder and quiet gasp out of you. He must notice this as he lets out a light-hearted, airy chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’re cold already,” he teases. Your skin erupts into goosebumps, obviously felt under Dabi’s fingers. His voice takes on a more husky tone when he speaks again, “Do I have to warm you up so soon?”
You’re not sure if he means to, but his words seem flirtatious. The implication makes you even more flustered. You clear your throat before speaking, trying to cover up your obvious nervousness. “N-no, I’m fine. Just a random shiver is all.”
You internally cringe at your own stuttering. It’s obvious he’s picked up on it. Dabi hums in response, eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief. “If you say so.” Heat rises in your cheeks. You huff out of frustrated embarrassment. He wasn’t entirely certain before, but judging from how you don’t recoil at his touch and how flustered it makes you, he’s confident in what he heard at the door now. Magne was right. You are attracted to him, you just don’t know the feeling is mutual.
Truthfully, he’s not sure what to do with this knowledge. This is uncharted territory for him. All he’s been focused on is his grandiose plan to ruin Endeavor. Fawning over someone was pointless and distracting. Besides, after what happened to his body, he thought his appearance was too unsightly anyways. It was better for him to abandon the idea altogether, lest he gets rejected and tossed aside all over again. But after hearing you don’t think he’s repulsive, what the fuck is he supposed to do now? It’s not like he learned what to do from his father. He knows he feels attraction towards you, though. Until he figures out the rest, he’s content with sneaking touches and stealing glances. The rush you give him is just too addictive to pass up.
“Th-there, that should do it,” you shakily say. He hums in acknowledgement. Your eyes meet his, only to notice that he’s much closer to your face and looking at your lips with narrowed eyes.
“W-what are you doing?” You ask, nervousness clear in your voice.
“Your lips turned blue last time, just doing my part to make sure you don’t fall on me again,” he replies.
“And are they blue now?” His hand cups your jaw and his thumb just barely grazes your bottom lip. Your heart begins to quicken at the gesture.
“No,” he answers. “Looks perfect to me.” He makes eye contact with you and you can’t suppress the way your mind hangs onto those words.
He’s inches away from your face, close enough to see every detail of your face. His eyes momentarily dart to your lips, an action you don’t miss. You swallow, feeling the butterflies swarming in your stomach. It’s your turn to glance at his lips. You can’t help but wonder how his lips would feel against yours. When your gaze meets his, you feel your breath hitch upon realizing he was watching you. His pupils are dilated and his eyes are lidded. To him, yours look the same.
His heart is thumping in his chest, much like yours is. The feelings between you two are wordlessly understood, demonstrated by how you’re both locked in place, frozen within this moment in time, as the tension crescendoes at an all-time high. Your resolve crumbles as you wish for the dam to finally break. He is the forbidden fruit, and consequences be damned, you want a taste. He seems to lean in closer, his breath fanning your lips. Instinctively, yours part. His eyes flutter closed and you do the same. The moment is rudely interrupted as a voice calls from the door.
“Dabi, y/n, the two of you are needed downstairs,” Kurogiri formally informs. Your eyes immediately snap open. To say his voice startled you is an understatement. You’re thankful Dabi’s door is still shut, at least. Kurogiri is not the worst person to discover the two of you like this, but you’d much rather not be discovered at all.
Dabi lets his forehead fall against yours and begrudgingly opens his eyes, gazing at you with a soft expression you’ve never quite seen on him. He seems to hesitate before pulling away from you, battling the desire to just kiss you quickly. He locks eyes with you one more time and lets out a sigh, one that is mixed with disappointment and frustration. His fingers card through his hair, an attempt to soothe the tension he feels. He parts his lips to speak and tiredly drawls,“Alright, we’ll be right there.”
You slide off of the table and the two of you walk together downstairs, neither of you mentioning that close moment. Everyone appears to be gathered in the bar, with Shigaraki standing near the door next to an unfamiliar person. The stranger has a hulking figure, with large, rippling muscles over his entire body. He appears to have an artificial eye on the side of his face marled with a deep, large scar. The eye is unlike anything you’ve seen before, as it exposes some of the ocular muscles and does not aim to look very natural.
The rest of the LOV is waiting for an explanation as to why this stranger is in the bar, seemingly approved by Shigaraki. Dabi and you stand tucked in the back of the crowd, behind Toga and Magne. Toga glances over her shoulder, catching sight of you and Dabi. She gives you a Cheshire Cat grin. “What took you two so long?” Toga teases in a hushed whisper.
“Healing stuff, you know, the usual,” you offer in explanation. Your voice must not sound confident, as she seemingly picks up on your lie.
“Right, sure,” she giggles, knowingly. You’re thankful Shigaraki begins to speak, interrupting that interaction and saving you from more embarrassment.
“This is Muscular, he will be accompanying you all on the mission tomorrow. Get your introductions out of the way now, I don’t wanna hear you were all too busy chatting to pull off the mission,” Shigaraki commands. “Talk about your quirks or something, you need to know how to use each other to our advantage.”
“Does this include me?” You worryingly ask Dabi.
“No, this doesn’t involve you. You and Shigaraki are staying behind,” he assures. You sigh in relief.
Shigaraki leaves his place next to Muscular and takes a seat on the bar, barking at Kurogiri to make him a drink, the action silently encouraging the others to get on with their introductions. Toga takes the initiative to approach Muscular first and bounces over to him. She seems excited to meet new people, and therefore Muscular, despite the unspoken nervousness that seems to build in the room.
“Hi, I’m Toga!”
“Your quirk, what is it?” he interrogates, seemingly completely uninterested in the casual small talk Toga was attempting to initiate. She pouts at his disinterest. It’s hard to hear where you are in the bar, but you swear you hear her mutter a ‘so rude’ under her breath.
“I can become someone else if I drink their blood. The more blood I drink, the longer I can look like them,” she explains. Her voice has lost her usual enthusiasm, replaced with a cordial but curt tone.
“Does that mean you can take on other people’s quirks?”
“No, I can just look like them or sound like them.”
“What happens when your timer runs out?”
“The facade melts off and leaves behind this gross clay,” she answers, grimacing at just the thought. This gives you more information about her quirk, something that you file in the back of your mind for later. The rest of the introductions go by as you hang back in the crowd with Dabi. Even Dabi seems slightly put off by Muscular, as he’s not in a hurry to approach him. Muscular ends up walking to Dabi, the crowd parting as he does so. Looks like the feeling is mutual amongst the rest of the LOV.
“Dabi, I take it?” Muscular asks. Dabi answers a very unenthusiastic ‘yeah’ in response. To others, it sounds like his usual apathetic attitude, but somehow, you’re able to distinguish the difference. “So you’re the guy leading the mission.”
“That’s right,” he answers. Muscular hums in acknowledgment, before his eyes meet yours.
“Oh? And who is this pretty little thing? She looks too weak and sweet to be a villain, is this your pet or something?” The hulking man asks. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you or the questions he’s asking. You take a few steps back, hoping increasing the distance between the two of you would offer you some comfort. He must notice your attempt at backing away as he says,“Aw, don’t like me? That’s too bad. Not like that’s ever stopped me before though.”
He licks his teeth and you tremble on the spot. This guy is fucking creepy and dangerous. Everyone else seems to notice your discomfort and the female members mirror it. Toga and Magne shift uncomfortably and tense up. Dabi shoots the man an annoyed glare, subtly slotting himself in the space between you and Muscular.
“She doesn’t concern you,” Dabi coldly states. He diverts the conversation with an assertive tone. “Let’s go over the plan since we all know each other now, yeah? Everyone’s got their role in this mission. We can’t afford anyone screwing it up.” You take the opening as your cue to leave, and flee upstairs. On your way up, you glance at Shigaraki, trying to gauge his reaction to ensure you’re permitted to leave. He uses the hand not wrapped around his glass to wave you off, silently allowing you to bolt.
Meanwhile while you’re upstairs, Dabi is going over the plan. He’s rather short with everyone. Dabi’s body temperature is rising, his skin slightly steaming. Truthfully, he’s fucking pissed at Muscular for that little stunt he pulled. Who does he think he is? He’s unaware of the obvious: he’s pissed because Muscular threatened you specifically. It’d be a cold day in hell before he lets someone hurt you, especially like that.
Muscular continues to test Dabi’s patience, as he interrupts the discussion to ask, “So what quirk does that pretty little thing upstairs have?”
“She can heal people with her skin!” Twice gleefully answers. His tone shifts to a more whiny tone to seemingly chide himself for revealing your quirk. “Don’t tell him that!” The answer seems to satisfy Muscular, as he doesn’t interrupt the plan again, allowing Dabi to give careful instructions and cool off. After all the information is laid out, Shigaraki beckons Dabi to come over.
“Dabi, Kurogiri has just informed me that my Master intends to loan us a Nomu for this mission,” Shigaraki states.
“A Nomu? That’s one of those artificial soldiers you mentioned once before, isn’t it?” Dabi asks, with interest. Shigaraki confirms, before divulging in more details.
“They’re trained to only respond to their commander. We’re setting it up to only take orders from you,” Shigaraki starts. He begins to go into detail about the quirks it has been fitted with and all of its resistances. Dabi glances over during his conversation with Shigaraki only to find Muscular is nowhere to be seen. There’s a pit forming in his stomach at the realization.
“Give me a minute, I gotta go check something,” Dabi interrupts. Without even waiting for Shigaraki to respond, he heads off in the direction of the stairs.
“Come back here, we weren’t done,” Shigaraki complains.
“Fuck off, it’ll only take a second. It’s not like the plan is happening anytime soon.” Shigaraki huffs in response, grumbling under his breath and beginning to scratch at his own neck in palpable annoyance. Dabi heads up the stairs, searching for Muscular and you. His ears are able to pick up on a conversation, instantly focusing in on your voice.
“Oh, um, sorry. I just healed someone else,” you meekly say, your apparent fear masked under the guise of politeness.
“What’s that got to do with it?” Muscular asks with annoyance.
“If I heal too much, my hands get cold enough for frostbite to set in.”
“Oh? But isn’t your quirk healing skin?”
“What’s your point?” Your tone is much more guarded, steeling yourself for what comes next. You don’t like where this conversation is headed.
“I’m just saying it doesn’t have to be your hands. Just take off your clothes. I’d warm you right up, baby,” he purrs. You feel nauseous at his implication as pure fear seeps into your body.
He’s making you really uncomfortable. This is one of the first times since your capture you’ve been genuinely worried for your safety. Shigaraki was intimidating when you first met him, but all it took to avoid his wrath was cooperation. But Shigaraki didn’t ever stoop this low with you, nor did anyone else. You’re surrounded by villains but this man seems like a true monster.
Your pulse races as more anxiety rises within you. The large man inches closer into your space, slowly cornering you against the wall. You frantically weigh your options. Do you risk shouting for help and hoping you’re saved? Or are you going to screw your eyes shut and cope with what comes next? You really wish you kept that knife on you. Hiding it was a safe bet, but you could really use that advantage right now.
“What are you still doing here?” You hear a familiar voice interject. Muscular turns his body to face the source, allowing you to see Dabi.
If looks could kill, Muscular would probably be dead ten times over. Dabi’s expression even rattles you to your core, despite not even being the intended recipient. There’s this oppressing aura of intimidation surrounding him, only furthered by the cold and unhinged look in his eyes. You realize this must be what his enemies see. This is why many people fear him, but not you.
“Just wanted to meet the healer you’ve been hiding from me. Is there something wrong with wanting to get to know everyone before the mission?”
“There’s no need, she won’t be going.”
“What a waste,” Muscular criticizes. He directs his next words to you, “Maybe next time.” With that, Muscular withdraws from your space and starts down the hall, glancing over his shoulder at you before he descends the stairs. Dabi’s eyes watch him as he leaves, not even risking taking his eyes off until Muscular is out of sight. Afterwards, he looks to you, noticing your very apparent scared state.
“Are you okay?” He finally asks, his voice much softer towards you. “Did he do anything?”
“Besides say some gross things? No, he didn’t get the chance to act on it,” you answer. Dabi’s brows are still furrowed out of concern for you and annoyance at Muscular.
“He doesn’t know which room is yours, so you can hide in there. I’ll let you know when he leaves,” he instructs. You nod and don’t hesitate to hide. You’re grateful for Dabi’s interruption. Imagining what would have happened to you had Dabi not intervened only serves to further rattle your nerves. You sit on your bed, tucking your knees against your chest and renaming as quiet as possible, so as to keep Muscular from figuring out where you are should he attempt to look for you. The silence in your room helps you come back down from anxiety and back to reality, though you can never fully relax, as your ears still pick up on what you think is Muscular’s voice downstairs. In an attempt to drown out his voice, you cover your ears with your pillow. It helps some, as a lot of the sounds downstairs are muffled by the cotton in your pillow. You let out some deep breaths, finally slowing your beating heart back down to a normal level.
You’re not sure how much time has passed when you hear a knock on your door. Your steps are cautious and slow as you head to the door, carefully opening it and peering through the sliver of space to see who it is. You’re met with a wave of relief to see familiar purple scars and shining silver staples. You open the door wider, feeling safer not seeing Muscular. Dabi notices the difference in your demeanor and obvious tension leaving your body. It’s strange, he thinks, that someone could be relieved to see him. He doesn’t quite understand why the thought makes him want to grin.
“Happy to see me?” He jokes with a smirk before sauntering in. It’s almost criminal how attractive he looks with his signature smirk. “You can relax, you know, he won’t be staying around here before the mission.”
“Oh thank god. I don’t like that guy,” you admit. He chuckles at your honesty.
“I don’t either, but he is strong. We could use him, even if he’s stupid and rash. In any case, he’d make a great pawn.”
“So he’s not going to be a permanent member?”
“I doubt it, he lacks real ambition. He’s probably just itching for a fight is all. I bet he’ll fuck off after the mission once he realizes we’re not constantly starting meaningless chaos,” he denounces, smirking while shit-talking about Muscular. It brings you some comfort to know that Dabi is both on your side and shares your distaste for Muscular. His expression turns a bit more serious and he adds, “I doubt he’ll be around you again, but for what it’s worth, I won’t let him try anything. If he tries anything, scream, and I’ll be there. I don’t care if Shigaraki needs him or not, I’ll fucking burn him.”
Normally, you’d be socially obligated to admonish someone for saying they’d murder another person. But, in this case, you’re making an exception. “Thank you, Dabi,” you show gratitude. You give him a soft smile, before attempting a lighthearted joke, “I promise I’ll give him my best girl-in-a-horror-movie shriek.”
“Atta girl,” he praises and laughs. The two of you part ways for the night afterwards, leaving you to get some much needed rest after the rollercoaster that was your day. Falling asleep isn’t as difficult as you feared it would be. You drift off to sleep, knowing that Dabi has your back.
The next couple of days pass by relatively quietly, at least, for the league’s standards. They seem to be gearing up for the upcoming outing, as everyone minus Shigaraki and Kurogiri leave one night. When they arrive, you notice that they’re now fitted with new equipment. Toga carries this backpack with clear tubes on her persons, and you’re able to notice the tubes connect to a rather large syringe. Magne now has a huge rectangular metal beam, one end colored in red while the opposite is blue. It’s a magnet, you realize. Dabi even received something new, as he’s wearing new clothes. His new jacket is black with silver cuffs at the half sleeves. There’s a stitching motif around the collar and along the split tails of his coat.
You really hate how your first thought is how good he looks in it. It seems like their little mission was nothing more than a supply run, hence the lack of injuries on Dabi. Truly, you’re thankful for it, in more ways than one. With the way you’re feeling about him, you’re sure that any close encounter would result in you finishing what you started on that damn table.
The day comes and goes. Night falling without any more commotion or contact with Dabi. It’s not until the next day that this pattern changes. There’s a knock on your door. Just like the last time, you slowly open the door, checking to see who it is. With no sign of Muscular, you swing open the door, allowing Dabi to step in. You expect him to take his seat on your bed like usual, only he doesn’t, and instead stands in front of you. You’re about to part your lips to ask what he needs, but he speaks first, answering your question.
“We’re about to leave for the rendezvous point,” he informs. Neither Dabi nor the others usually let you know when they’re about to run off to do one of their missions. The fact he’s even letting you know makes you think that this one is significant, far more important or dangerous than anything they’ve done before. Thinking about what could happen makes you a bit nervous.
“Do you think there’s going to be a lot of injuries?” You ask, approaching the topic with a careful tone.
“If all goes well, it should be just the usual,” he answers. The ‘usual’ implies he’ll be the only one returning with the typical burns characteristic of his quirk.
“And if it doesn’t?” You counter. Dabi doesn’t answer you. The silence cements the direness of the situation.
Dabi looks at you with an intense longing you only saw a glimpse of that time you nearly kissed. He thinks about what would happen if he doesn’t get the chance to come back to you, what would happen if he got caught by the heroes. The thought causes an ache in his chest, but he won’t back down from the mission. He can’t. This is a stepping stone to his eventual goal. He’s sure that the LOV could bring him closer to his eventual target. He has to take the risk. And if he has to take this one, what’s another?
He steps closer to you and pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. The sudden gesture takes you by surprise, but you don’t stiffen out of discomfort. Rather, you seem to relax in his hold and almost lean into his touch. Still, you can’t help but acknowledge this seems out of character for him.
“What’s gotten into you? Is everything okay?” The worry is clear in your voice.
“I just… wanted to do this before I go,” he explains. His voice is quiet and unsure, something you interpret as a result of his unfamiliarity with affection. Against your better judgement, you find yourself reciprocating, wrapping your arms around him.
“Well you’re coming back, aren’t you?” you ask, your voice partially muffled by his jacket. He doesn’t respond immediately. The two of you reluctantly part but still hover in each other’s space. You look up at him, making eye contact. There’s this look in his eyes that you can’t quite place. He seems far away from you, despite being close enough to touch.
“Yeah,” he answers. Somehow, you can tell he’s not entirely confident in his answer. Your stomach twists upon noticing, and you can’t help but feel a bit saddened to think of him disappearing on you. You’re beginning to question your sanity. Is Stockholm finally setting in? How are you going to feel about him when you finally escape? Will these feelings you have for him make you never wish to leave? He exits your room with great hesitation, leaving you to stand there in silence, reflecting on your burning questions.
After a few minutes, you hear Shigaraki calling for you downstairs. You close your eyes and breathe in, steeling yourself for the incoming interaction with Shigaraki, before releasing your breath and heading downstairs. When you arrive in the bar, you find everyone has their equipment packed and are clustered in the open area of the floor. You cringe when you see Muscular in the far corner, but Shigaraki waves you over, unintentionally saving you from appearing available for conversation to Muscular. You approach Shigaraki, feeling a bit confused as to why you were requested here.
“I thought I wasn’t going?” You question, your voice raising towards the end in uncertainty. Shigaraki scoffs in annoyance.
“You’re not,” Shigaraki retorts.
“But… then why did you…?” You trail off, referencing why he called for your presence downstairs.
“I’m not dumb enough to let you wander around on your own. You’re staying down here so Kurogiri and I can babysit you,” Shigaraki patronizes. You make it a point to not let Shigaraki’s words get to you anymore, considering he talks that way to literally everyone.
“Invest in a nanny if it bothers you that much,” you grumble under your breath, before taking a seat in one of the bar booths. You rest your elbows against the table and place your chin in the palm of your hand, with an uninterested expression. With nothing else to look at, your eyes wander the crowd. Your subconscious takes the reigns and your eyes travel over to Dabi. He seems to have a determined expression on his face as he speaks with Twice. You wonder what drives him, what motivates him to do the things he does, how he continues to use his quirk despite how it hurts him. He’s never revealed much to you, or really anybody, what goal he’s working towards. It both fascinates you and terrifies you. Some part of you admires it, even, how he’s so driven that his own self destruction won’t stop him.
You must have been staring and lost in thought for too long, as his gaze snaps to you. Your surroundings fade into the background and you feel frozen in place. The moment is interrupted as Kurogiri summons a warp gate in the corner of the room, the two of you diverting your gazes to the strange purple portal. Everyone files in, one by one, and slowly becomes enveloped into the gateway, transporting them to a location completely unknown to you. Dabi is the last to file in. He glances over his shoulder to look back to you. His eyes stay locked onto yours, his bright eyes partially shrouded behind the mist, all the way up until he disappears in the violet haze. You find yourself asking a million questions about their plans. Just what does Shigaraki have in store for them? What’s so dangerous about this mission? What does the league of villains hope to accomplish?
A few hours trudge by painfully. You’ve spent this entire time counting; counting how many times Kurogiri seems to polish the same spot on the bar, how many unopened bottles of expensive liquor are collecting dust on the shelves, how many scuff marks tarnish the shine of the wooden floor… The point is, there’s only so many things in the room. You’re painfully bored and running out of novel ways to entertain yourself.
Meanwhile, Shigaraki spends his time playing on his Switch, carefully holding it with his pinkies raised up. It seems inconvenient, you think, to have to constantly be mindful of disintegrating everything you touch. You wonder just how many gaming consoles he’s gone through, how many he’s accidentally dusted with his quirk. Though, based on how heated he gets over his games, you wager that a lot of those instances may be more on purpose than on accident.
Speaking of which, it seems like he’s reached a tough part of the game, as he groans at the sight of the flashing ‘Game Over’ graphic (which is his third time seeing the words, and yes, you’ve been counting that too). The gaming console is tossed aside. Shigaraki checks his phone and repeatedly taps his finger onto the bartop. You can deduce that he’s feeling impatient and waiting on something based on his mannerisms. Your ears strain to hear how he mutters in annoyance, mumbling about how everyone sucks at giving him updates. You can only presume he’s referring to the mission. Your boredom emboldens you, as you find yourself starting a conversation with Shigaraki while his attention is not grabbed by his handheld console. There’s always been one very obscure thing you’ve wanted to ask him. Now’s your chance to have this stupid curiosity settled.
“I have a question,” you say.
“It better not be about the mission,” he deadpans.
“It’s not,” you assure. He seems to relax a bit, until you add, “My question is much worse.”
“I swear to god, if you ask about-” he starts to rant, before you cut him off.
“Do you ever wash your hand mask?” You gesture to your face, referencing the hand he always wears there. It’s obvious he’s taken off guard, even with his face being partially obscured by the covering. There’s a very tense silence. You interrupt the quietness, “So… I’ll take that as a no…”
“It’s a taxidermy,” he finally replies, no longer stunned by your unexpected question.
Well, that certainly explains why.
It’s your turn to remain silent.
“Oh,” is the most you’re able to muster. This situation makes you miss talking to Dabi, Toga, or Magne already, and it’s only been a couple hours. He notices you picking at your nails, something he sees as you trying to entertain yourself.
“Are you bored?” He asks.
“No, not at all. I love sitting here in silence. It’s riveting, really. You should try it,” you answer sarcastically. He sighs and you notice him scratching at his neck, probably agitated by your sarcasm.
“Here’s the remote, entertain yourself and stop bothering me,” he orders, holding up the remote before tossing it at you. You manage to grab it before it either hits you or falls on the ground.
“Don’t mind if I do,” you beam. He places his phone on the counter, screen down, and resumes playing on his Switch. You spend the rest of the night lounging around, enjoying the free access to the league’s tv without the other members vying for control of the channels. Against your better judgment, you flip to the news, curious as to what’s going on in the world. You feel a bit disappointed not seeing anything about your disappearance on the news. The lack of coverage makes you wonder if anyone even noticed your absence at all. You try not to let it get to you and choose to busy yourself by watching increasingly odd gameshows. It helps a bit, as the bizarre tasks the contestants are forced to participate in gives you something else to think about.
You’re not sure how much time has passed, and you’re about to doze off, until you’re startled awake. Kurogiri summons a portal, and out pours the rest of the league. You eyes quickly scan all the bodies, taking inventory of everyone. There’s Toga, Magne, Twice, Dabi, Spinner, and Compress. Muscular and a few of the other strangers are gone. What happened to them?
“The target?” Shigaraki interrogates.
“Handled by your’s truly,” Compress ensures, with a grandiose flourish. His stagelike mannerisms are showing.
“Toga, how much blood did you get?” Shigaraki adresses next. She holds up the syringe attached to a pump, the same gear you see her leave with. The amount in the vial is remarkably small, with barely any blood present.
“One person’s!” She cheerily answers. Shigaraki lets out a sigh that can only be described as a frustrated huff.
“It’ll have to do,” he settles. “Whoever’s injured should go get healed first. We’ll talk about the rest of the plan afterwards.”
Dabi saunters over to you, accompanied by Compress following behind. Compress seems to be clutching his own shoulder, making you worry that a much more serious injury underneath his jacket. Your eyes scan over Dabi, not noticing any blaring signs of other wounds, apart from the usual burns on his hands and arms. Maybe you were worrying over him for nothing after all.
“What sort of injuries am I working with?” You ask the two of them.
“Compress ate shit and got slammed to the ground. There’s gotta be some bruising. If not to his body, then his ego,” Dabi snickers. “Nothing out of the ordinary for me, though.”
“Oh come off it!” Compress groans. “I’ll have you know I took that tussle with grace.”
“In that case, I’ll start with Compress,” you decide, interjecting their bantering. You rise from your seat in the booth and motion for Compress to sit. You crack your knuckles before instructing, “You’ll need to remove your coat, I can’t heal through fabric.”
Compress sheds his mustard colored coat, revealing an orange button down shirt underneath a black buttoned vest. You can’t but wonder why this man wears so many fucking layers of clothing. The sheer amount of buttons he has to undo makes the process a little awkward, as you’re left standing there, wringing your hands. After a moment or two, his torso is now bare to you. You can see blooms of purples and blues across his chest, no doubt from the impact. Your hands touch the bruises and your quirk activates. Dabi can’t help but grit his teeth at the sight and hover by your side.
“Your hands are so cold. Will you be alright? I heard you can get frostbite like this,” he asks with a shuddering voice. Your hands move over to the last cluster of bruising on his chest, leaving behind even, porcelain skin in it’s wake.
“Don’t worry about it, Dabi will warm me up,” you dismiss. There’s a sharp silence as you realize the accidental innuendo of your word choice. To your dismay, Compress picks up on it.
“Oh will he now?” If he wasn’t wearing a mask, you’re sure you’d see his eyebrows raised in amusement.
“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that! He has a fire quirk, he can heat up his hands for Christ’s sake. Get your mind out of the gutter,” you defend. With no more bruises left, you cross your arms and huff. “And to think I took you for a gentleman, Compress.”
“Pardon the crude implication, but your words made it easy to assume,” he feigns an apology through strained snickers. He rebuttons his clothes and shrugs into his topcoat, smoothing over the wrinkles with his hands. Compress rises from his seat in the booth. You expect him to run off, but he stands in front of you, and asks, “Would you forgive me if I showed you a magic trick?”
“If it’s a good one, I’ll consider it,” you bargain.
With a sleight of hand, he presents to you a white azalea. “For your services,” he offers. You pluck the flower from his hand and twirl the stem between your fingers. “Harvested fresh from the Nagano forest.”
“Hm… I suppose I’ll forgive you, just this once,” you offer, bringing the flower to your lips. Your gaze turns to Dabi as you address him next, “Lemme just set this down and I’ll heal you next, Dabi.”
You turn to place the flower on the table, but the plant is stolen from your fingers, the motion expertly performed with the skill of a thief. You’re about to protest when Dabi tucks the azalea behind your ear, a gesture you weren’t anticipating, especially given how public this display of affection is. You’re too busy glancing at the crowd, searching for any signs of the others acknowledging what happened, that you fail to notice the side eye Dabi gives Compress.
“I was worried you were gonna take it from me for a minute there,” you mumble while fiddling with your hands.
“Nah, looks better on you than it would me,” he contends. He slides into the booth and presents you with his hands. “Now, you ready to do this or are you too cold?” You shake your head and clasp your hands around his, firing up your quirk.
“It’s good to see you’re not too hurt,” you mention.
“Yeah, the mission went well,” he explains.
“Really, is that so?” you respond. You’re doubtful it truly went well, considering how there’s less members than what they left with. Not wanting to outright ask about what happened, lest you learn of abhorrent details, you decide on a more subtle approach. “It’s just… I notice there’s some people missing, is all,” you carefully mention, almost in a whisper.
“Not the important ones. You trying to say you miss Muscular?” Dabi jokes.
“God no, I’m glad he’s not here,” you’re quick to respond.
“Besides, we caught a UA brat and the boss will convert him to our side. The kid will replace the others, once we let him out of the marble,” Compress boasts. There’s a sharp silence that takes over you upon hearing so and you halt all your moments. They kidnapped another person? What seems to be a child, at that?
The look of disappointment that flashes on your face is something Dabi won’t ever forget. You seem to wilt at the information, contrasting the still-fresh flower tucked in your hair. “I see,” you murmur.
They really put the kid in kidnapping, didn’t they?
#mha dabi#bnha dabi#dabi my hero academia#dabi fanfic#dabi x reader#dabi x reader fluff#dabi x you#dabi x female reader#dabi x y/n#healer reader#healer y/n#hella s*xual tension#reader insert#dabi#almost kiss trope#self insert#bnha self insert#tw: implication/threats of noncon#tw: noncon#Dabi respects women#Dabi drinks his respect women juice#reader has a rude awakening#reader heals Compress#mha fanfiction#bnha reader insert#bnha fanfiction
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I want to hear about your Postcanon Primo Aporia AU with the twins 👁️👁️
BATTING MY EYELASHES... ABSOLUTELY TOUCHED AND HONORED when folks are interested in the bonkers little AUs im always cooking up..thank you ;_; this one especially is rly dear to me, it's starting to grow into quite the, Project. slash pos
here's some notes and rambles about what the fuck's going on in my 5Ds Postcanon Au That's Grown Deeply Out of Hand/Rinascita AU/if i ever write something about it will give it a proper name BUT
"Rinascita" is Italian for 'rebirth' or 'revival'.... "Primo Rinascita" (name I've been calling this AU's Primoporia) plays off of "Primo Reprisa" (Primo Recovery/post ripped in half rebuilt Primo) :^)
the tl;dr I've touched upon with this AU is it's really just born from "what if Leo tried to salvage some of Aporia's mechanisms to bring him back after all the Ark Cradle chaos, but the hardware is so damaged only a third of it can be rebooted, so now Primo has to be alive again whether he wants to be or not"...there's a couple other defining Canon Divergences in here too though!!
Namely the twins elect to Stay in New Domino with Yusei rather than go live with their parents like they do in canon, partially because of the Secret Robot Harddrive(s) Leo has been sitting on for the last six months, and also partially because Fuck the Twins' Parents All My Homies Hate the Twin's Parents THEY ALREADY GOT A DAD!!! HIS NAME IS YUSEI FUDO!!!!
(but also Akiza drops out of medical school to come back to NDC and really buckle down on pursuing turbo dueling professionally... good god let the girl RIDE A MOTORCYCLE!)
Anyway, Primo in this AU is.. Mostly Primo but yeah he is also Aporia too, he has all of Aporia's memories (and fainter, more dreamlike recollections of Lester and Jakob's memories) and for a solid while Leo especially Treats him Like Aporia Primarily, which makes Primo EXTREMELY agitated!! What do you do when your memories both are yours and aren't yours, what do you do when you're a copy of a copy of a copy, what do you do the things 'you've' done are making you feel a whole lot different towards the people you so violently tried to destroy when you were last alive and it's making you feel WEIRD!!!!
he's just going through it. a lot. He has no mission he has no god he was supposed to be able to REST. and now Team 5D's is letting him stay in their garage like some kind of charity case!!
Primo eventually gets uploaded into a Ghost body Yusei and the twins recovered from a Satellite dump (it sucks <3 one eye doesnt work <333) but I think he can also partially exist in some other technology (possibly Leo's Duel Disc and the Yusei Go.... Aporia really did just like throw his whole halo into Yusei's bike and granted it flight there is DEFINITELY Apo Data in that thing's system.)
"You remember how in Homestuck, um, Bec Noir had that instinct to always protect Jade because he was partially her dog?? That's Primo in this AU, with the twins." The Aporia in him's protective instinct is logged the fuck IN
god there's just. A Lot. it's all fun and games until the little AU suddenly has a timeline and themes and. duels. and related OCs. I need to draw them but there's a small faction of scrappers that specialize in recovering the 258939285 stupidass Ghost robots Primo unleashed on the city and getting all the good tech and metal outta them. They'd like to get the tech and metal outta Primo too :)
really it's this sort of character study AU about what happens when a living weapon is allowed true and real free will, whatit means to really be a person, and about Primo coming to terms with this chance to be who He wants to be, not simply what he was created to be, and this nature of who he is vs. who Aporia was vs. who exists at the overlap of those points. Aporia may be dead but he is haunting that fuckin narrativeee his claws are all over everythinggg and it's giving Primo Gender Feelings that he DOESNT HAVE TIME TO FOCUS ON RIGHT NOW!!!! *the looming Postcanon Gender He/They Experience lurks behind him like a phantom*
there was even slowburn yuseiprimo qpr maneuvers. smiles.
LORD THAT'S A LOT SORRY and that's really just me sputtering some basic stuff off the top of my head...there is. a Lot going on. Didnt even get into the guardian angel symbolism and how Z-one slots into all this and the. um. entire fan duel monsters card archetype im cooking for Luna out in this thing. tl;dr This Rehabilitated Pit Bull Has a New Lease on Life and It's Stressing Them The Fuck Out But They'll Be Ok.i believe in Primo's innate big brother instinct and you can too. i like him SOO MUCH
#SOO DELIGHTED TO FINALLY BE ABLE TO TALK MORE ABOUT HIM PUBLICLY theres. so much going on#i didnt even get into the 65 year old butch who wants primo dead#asks#anonymous#lavenderr-starrs#rinascita au#primo 5ds#ygo posting#placido#ygoart#long post /
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