#is when i saw my gender as a puddle reflecting stars... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

esseegg · 3 years

Text

Four Words and Then Some - Dabi [Reader-insert fic]

Summary: There are few things that faze Dabi. Nonchalance and apathy are what he’s best known for. When he meets someone of similar manner, however, he can’t help but feel a tad curious. He can’t help putting labels beyond your demeanor — anything to remember you by.

Word Count: 1846

Note: gender neutral Reader. not quite romantic, although one could argue its implications. written before the Dramatic Dabi Reveal™ in recent manga chapters, so this embraces more of the mystery that initially surrounded his character.

Warning: mentions of murder, alcohol, and sex.

There was only a handful of words that Dabi could use to describe you.

The first was “immoral”.

That was the first look he saw in your eyes that night. Under the pelt of the rain, you watched — watched as his scarred, bloodied hand clasped over an innocent person’s mouth. A show of blue humored your eyes not in the open, but within the screaming walls of his victim’s throat.

The man collapsed, just inches away from your feet. Before Dabi could purr a despairing taunt, a promise that you’d end up the same, you cut him off with a scream. It was the innocent’s — turned dry by scarring flames, turned hopeless by the press of your heel.

As you dug your heel into the victim’s throat, you tipped your umbrella in Dabi’s direction. From below the shadow of your umbrella’s weeping canopy, your smile twinkled ever so humbly.

“Thank you,” you uttered.

He just wanted to scorch a loose mouth. He didn’t know you had bad blood with the guy.

The second was “cocky”.

When Dabi asked if you knew who he was, you affirmed that you did. As he rose to his feet, your arm rose with him. Somehow, your umbrella still accounted for him.

“You aren’t afraid of getting burned?” Dabi sneered.

Flames hissed above the rain’s pulse, drawing a line along the dips and curves of his neck. A stray flicker reflected in your eyes, and he caught sight of a heart-seizing intensity.

“Not really.” Your airy chuckle extinguished his flares of blue. “The public’s noted you as a more.. erratic person among your associates.”

You tilted your shield back, letting the rain’s barrage on him resume.

“You don’t exactly have the highest body count among criminal kind. At least, when you’re acting alone.”

Dabi eyed the canopy that no longer wept for him. Lifting a hand, he ignited a flame beneath its edge. You spared it only a glance before tossing the whole thing aside.

The third was “blunt”.

“You’ve never been reported to appear in this area before,” you remarked. Your hand, no longer occupied, simply took refuge in a slot of your jacket. “Do you mind if I ask what for?”

You had friends nearby, as well as a relative just a few blocks away. Although you thought it pointless to steer a villain’s will, you wished it kind, nonetheless, if he were to leave your relations alive and well.

The way you gestured with your shoulders, mixed with the lazy perks and dips of your lips — Dabi couldn’t help but laugh. Although it came off as more of a scoff, you noticed.

“Relax,” the villain drawled. “Burnt cities aren’t the agenda. Your folks will be safe, unless they have a quirk in my interest.”

“Is that what happened to this guy?” you asked. Only then did Dabi realize — your foot was still on the bastard’s throat.

“You could say that.”

“Hm.” You took your foot away, irked by the raspy gasps that followed. “I’m not surprised.”

The fourth was “beguiling”.

After his third torching of your shared victim’s throat, you asked if he intended to stay the night. He thought he knew a tease when he heard one.

“That sounds like an invitation,” he hummed. You didn’t flinch nor tense as he neared, and in good fun, the tip of his nose tickled yours.

Liquor or sex, Dabi predicted. One or the other — maybe both if he was lucky. You didn’t seem below two shots or a few, and the rain hugged your form with a shameless, flattering grace.

There was a lighter’s tease in your eyes too, one that begged for another flick of the thumb. Roll the wheel, your eyes seemed to say. Spit sparks of blue on your skin; start a flame that’d eat you out, pain you, pleasure you, until you were ashes on a bed. He’d feed you the last shot of your cheap shared liquor, distastefully warm by that point. Then, he’d leave. That’d be a night, certainly — just the kind of night he–

“It’s not.” Turning your head away ever so slightly, you bared a look of total disinterest. “I was hoping you’d leave.”

So much for that night. Whatever, Dabi scoffed.

He fished out his burner phone, paying you no mind as he dialed his associate’s number. The tone droned in his ear, monotonous like the rain, quiet like your soles on concrete as you strayed to pick up your umbrella. You only cared to shake off the drip of puddles, rather than the grime that stuck.

The fifth and final word was “comforting”.

"You have zero caller credits left on this device. To purchase more, visit one of our locations at– Beep!"

The phone smacked concrete, cracking upon impact. After his snarl had sputtered, making it no further than the barrier that was his lips, you spoke.

"Is everything alright?"

Dabi’s eyes darted over, meeting the shadow of that weeping canopy again. Your buttery tone, light and airy, put the image of a smirk in his head.

"What do you think?" he sneered.

Your eyes sheened like all-seeing moons above the night's drizzle. White — from what he could tell — hazy and plain.

"Do you need a place to stay?" you asked. “I have a couch you could borrow.”

Dabi paused, confounded by the offer. He looked to the sky, as if his answer had been tucked away up there. Looming over urban silhouettes, the clouds wallowed in their sorrow. Silver linings were impossible to find.

The villain sighed. Eventually, he replied, “Alright. It’s not as if I’ve got anywhere else to go.”

The canopy twitched, revealing a quiet surprise in your eyes. Dabi chuckled, sparking a funny, fleeting life in your eyes’ shine.

He’d remember that. He’d remember many things about you.

He’d remember the pale vinyl flooring of your apartment and how mud stuck itself between boards’ gaps. He’d remember that ugly, aged yellow of your lightbulbs, which loved to cackle and gossip whenever he turned his back. He’d remember the weak, chilling pulse of your shower head: a nice gift after blue had licked his skin raw.

When he came out of the shower, Dabi found a flaccid pillow on the couch. From the kitchen, he could hear the clinks of a spoon dipped in warm milk. When you caught his stare, you spoke.

“Insomnia.” You shook the mug as if it were a glass of wine. “Just a comfort habit of mine.”

As the night dragged on, he slowly understood what you meant.

While he rested on the couch, slowly sinking into its tough, ridged cushions, you lingered in the kitchen, concocting drink after drink to accompany the fiction in your hands. Every few minutes or so, he’d hear the crisp flick of another page, the kind that often sliced through the drone of the rain.

Then, out of nowhere, the spoon-clinking and the page-turning quieted.

“Aren’t you tired?”

Your voice mingled with the muted racket from outside. He almost didn’t catch it.

“Do you honestly think a villain’s gonna take a chance at a stranger’s home?”

Dabi’s voice cushioned his words, turning curtness to breath and derision to wisps. The scratch of your mug and the kitchen counter followed, as did the flutter of pages and the last hiss of your kitchen light.

You strolled out of the shadows, placing the mug at the foot of the couch. Before he could question you, you plopped onto the armrest. In response, Dabi scrambled up, tucking his feet away from you, while blue raced along his fingertips.

“Relax,” you uttered. “I’m just here for the better light.”

A shitty excuse. You both knew it.

“If you want better light, I’d look somewhere else,” the villain retorted.

Propping himself up, he nestled into a crook of your couch. You didn’t mind, even as he angled himself for a perfect view of whatever threats you might attempt.

Threats. Right.

He’d remember that thought. He’d remember all that he could before that night’s end.

He’d remember how your pages turned to whispers. He’d remember that irking clonk between your foot and the couch, then the silence after he spat something at you. He’d remember your yawns, long and perpetual — shamelessly dramatic.

That was you: a peculiar thing of the owl’s night with dark, curious eyes and airy smiles. Eerily still yet alive, you lived in your own little world that Dabi had simply intruded upon, when he could’ve sworn that it was the other way around.

In your world, hearts were slow, yet steady, safe, and content. The darkness was kind, drooping over his eyes and working his limbs loose. Bulbs became stars, humble and pleasant within the morning’s grayness.

When the villain awoke, he was greeted by fleece, sewn together from the night’s black. The sky seemed full of silver, accompanied by a light, shimmery mist that turned your window into a colorless mirage. In the new light of the sunless city, there was you.

Your body teetered, looking ready to topple off the armrest at any moment. Meanwhile, your book slumbered against the slope, having long since closed by the will of its bindings. By your feet, which dangled innocently, your mug laid on its side. It had dried over in a layer of crusted liquid that spanned out and seeped into the vinyl boards.

At all of you, the villain huffed. You bemused him. Yet, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to question you — any of you. You felt like a dream, after all, utterly surreal.

He was certain he’d be that way to you too. You’d question a lot of things.

You’d wonder if your mug sprouted legs last night. Otherwise, it would’ve never made its way to your sink.

You’d hug the fleece that had hugged so snuggly about your shoulders and question it. Before last night, blankets never flew.

You’d ask if your book was always so fickle. Rather than stay by your side, it got up and moved to the kitchen. It would’ve found its way home, on a shelf or the like, but it forgot that home a long time ago.

Worst of all, your umbrella, which you had hung onto the front door knob to dry, was now gone — actually gone. You’d wander the halls, search the rooms, and even call Dabi’s name to ask where it had gone.

There’d be no point, though. In the end, you’d know.

Somewhere, far away from the place you called home, your umbrella was wide open and smiling beside the atmosphere’s light, joyful cries for a brand new day. All the while, the canopy, spotted with mud and baring a singe along its edge, casted a warm, comforting shadow over its new owner.

Dabi thought it foolish to bring the item along, but he did. As he walked, he twirled the canopy and grinned, happy to thieve a sliver of the subtle peace that you had blessed him with.

Thank you for reading! Likes, Comments & Reblogs are much appreciated <3

#dabi #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #touya x reader #bnha #mha #bnha dabi #mha dabi #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #egg's writing

54 notes · View notes