Hawks: Where Is Shigaraki

NAH CUS REAL EVEN ME TRYNA DOODLE HIM IN SCHOOL

does anyone have any tips on how to draw dabi's hair. im going to lose my mind. it never looks right save me

dabi day!!!

APOCALYPSE ──── teenage¡touya × teenage¡reader.

about. winters are always spent with the todoroki family. except, this winter is a more bit special. set in a no quirk! au. romance. touya is written as touya, before dabi existed. reader is a poet/writer. listen to apocalypse. wc of 1900+

notes. happiest birthday to one of the most complexed character i ever loved. it's also shidmerica ( my babies ) 1 year anniversary!! so it's written specially for them. my heart belongs to you, @w1nterelle and @hyoismbbg 🖤

THE FLURRIES OF SNOW DANCED OUTSIDE WITH UTMOST GRACE. you stood by the window, the chill from the glass seeped into your skin, but it didn’t dampen your spirit.

winter break had already begun, and the promise of endless fun stretched out before you like a freshly fallen blanket of white. it itches all the cells in your skin and calls out to you for a walk in this season of winter which you haven’t seen in a while.

so you grabbed your coat from the worn out hook by the todoroki’s door, fabric whispering against the wooden paneling.

the snow crunched underfoot, a rhythmic soundtrack to the stillness that had descended upon the neighborhood. the world was muffled, as if the flakes were little sound absorbers, leaving only the occasional distant laugh or the jingle of a collar to pierce the quiet.

your eyes looked around, feeling a sense of familiar comfort wash over you. when have you last seen this familiar neighbourhood covered in a veil of pearly white snow?

the towering pines were laden with snow, their branches bowing gracefully under the weight of 'winter's kiss', just as touya’s mother likes to say.

and after you came to the said boy. touya looked like the living embodiment of the season itself, his cheeks flushed from the cold, turquoise eyes sparkling with the same brightness as the icicles that hung from the eaves of the neighbouring houses. his hair the perfect compliment of the snow.

this is how you knew the eldest todoroki— pale and beautiful, every christmas or new years your family spent with the todorokis had painted that image of him ever since childhood.

touya’s breath hung in the air, little puffs of condensation that seemed to carry his unseen excitement. his smile was tiny, and though it didn’t reach his eyes, it was very much visible enough to you.

you waved, and he waved back. the snowflakes caught in his snow-white lashes like a sprinkle of glitter. touya bounded over, his boots leaving tracks in the untouched snow, and handed you a pair of gloves.

“you... are begging for a cold, missy.”

to have touya hand out a pair of his gloves is satisfying to you, because he knows you’ve forgotten the ones he got you for christmas two years ago. it’s left at home to practically rot like your old piano left in the dark to collect dust.

you took the gloves. “thank you, touya,” you gave him a tiny smile with a surfacing blush as he watched you put it on. his hands are larger than yours, that’s for sure. so the gloves looked a tad bit funny on you. but it didn’t matter now.

“so what do you want to do first? i heard the park has a new toboggan slide this year,” said touya as you shook your head. “i want to walk around the neighbourhood. i haven’t been here in a while.”

“alright, sure,” touya replied and adjusted the collar of his coat, the wind causing the fabric to snap gently. “but don’t say i didn’t warn you if you get frostbite on your cheeks,” he added, causing a soft chuckle to emit from the depths of your throat.

he started off towards the sidewalk, each step leaving a trail of footprints in the fresh snow. you followed suit, your boots sinking into the white carpet that covered the ground.

the air was crisp and biting, carrying the faint scent of pine and wood smoke from distant chimneys. the houses lining the street were adorned with wreaths and lights, their windows glowing.

the silence settled over you both like a blanket, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. touya seemed content to just walk side by side, his gaze flickering from the snow-laden trees to the sky, a soft smile on his face.

if anything else, he looked at peace, wrapped in the quiet simplicity of the winter morning. there was something oddly charming about him at this moment, something so soft. the wind caught a few snowflakes, whirling them around his head like a silvery crown.

curiousity strikes out of nowhere, and you glance at the todoroki. it was only for a moment, but you noticed so many subtle details on his face in that short moment.

despite the cold, a light flush dusted across his pale cheeks. touya’s eyelashes, unusually thick for a boy, were dusted with flecks of white, catching the sunlight. his precious white hair, windswept and messy, clung to his forehead, giving him a boyish, almost vulnerable appearance.

his hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and every so often, he would huff out a breath, creating a tiny cloud in front of his mouth. each exhale was accompanied by a small, barely perceptible shiver.

“you’re really pretty for a boy, y’know?”

touya’s cheeks blossomed a field of red roses in this cold winter, and he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment.

“pretty?” he mumbled, eyes flickering anywhere but your face. “guys aren’t supposed to be pretty.”

despite his awkward and flustered expression, there was a hint of bashful pleasure in his eyes. it was clear that he wasn’t used to compliments, especially of this nature.

your fingers dived into the pockets of your winter coat, the tips brushing against a amall leather notebook as you looked down at the snow beneath. “i know, touya. but you grow even more beautiful every winter.”

the boy’s cheeks reddened further, turning an almost cherry red. he was clearly unused to such blatant praise, and it seemed to leave him flustered and at a loss for words.

“i— well…” he stuttered, his usual reserve crumbling in the face of your compliment. his ears had taken on a similar hue as his cheeks, and he seemed unable to look directly at you, his gaze darting to the snow-covered road instead.

“thank you, i guess,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, and it made the corner of your lips curved upwards just a little.

silence engulfed the air for a moment as you both walked along the snowy roads. not long before, you decided to break the silence again.

“do you like poetry?”

he shakes his head in denial. “no, but they’re sometimes nice to read though,” touya looks over at you. “don’t you write poetry? have you written a piece for anyone?”

you bit your lip, clearly contemplating touya's question. your face was a mix of hesitance and curiosity, as if you were warring with yourself over whether to share something deeply personal.

“i’ve written a few,” you admitted, voice almost inaudible over the sound of the wind. “mostly just.. thoughts and observations. nothing really significant, i guess. they’re also messy metaphors that make almost no sense.”

you paused, fingers still tracing the worn leather of your little notebook in your pocket. “but to answer your question... yes. i have. for one person, specifically.”

“oh? who’s the lucky person?” touya raises a brow, and you flushed a shade of wine red. suddenly, the snow beneath your feet looks interesting. your gaze flickered to touya’s for a moment, a mix of vulnerability and shyness in your pretty eyes.

you swallowed hard, hand clenching and unclenching nervously at your side. it was clear that admitting this was difficult for you, but you seemed resigned to doing so.

“it’s you,” you said softly, the word barely above a whisper, as if you were afraid someone else might hear.

the boy blinked twice, or it was many. either way he couldn’t tell. he was quite baffled that he is your subject of muse for your poetry.

“me?” he questioned as a chuckle emitted from him.

your cheeks were a vibrant scarlet now, gaze firmly planted on the ground. you nodded almost imperceptibly. “yeah, you,” you scratched your cheeks with a finger. “it’s silly, i know. i just... there's something about you that makes me write, y’know?”

touya kicked a pile of snow as you both continued to walk along the streets. he then looked over at you, noticing your undeniably adorable flushed cheeks.

“can i read your poem? that is, if you’re okay with it.”

“uh—” you trailed off, swallowing some gathering saliva in your mouth. the idea of someone reading your most private thoughts was terrifying, but there was also a small flicker of hope in his eyes, a glimmer of the prospect of being understood through the beauty of your words.

you nodded slowly, voice still soft and tentative as you looked up at him. “okay. you can read it,” you replied in a whisper. “but touya... promise me you won’t laugh, alright?”

touya would never laugh at you, gosh, he never will. not when his heart swells at the idea of you writing about him and he gets to read it.

with a deep breath, you braced yourself and fumbled with the zipper of your jacket. then, a worn leather notebook from your pocket was extracted. the cover was slightly frayed at the edges, evidence of many hours spent flipping through the pages.

you held it out for touya, hand trembling the slightest bit. “here.”

he took it and gestured to a bookmarked page. seeing you nod confirmed that the page was the poem about him. as touya’s turquoise eyes scanned the words scribbled in your handwriting, he could feel his heart fluttering.

your emotions were laid bare on the page— the joy, the trepidation, the deep admiration and more. it was a raw, unfiltered confession, each line a direct window into your thoughts and feelings. you watched him with a mix of anticipation and fear, waiting for him to judge you in any way. pessimism seems to storm your mind at this moment.

once the written poem has been finished reading, the first touya did was look at you, a brow raised.

“what?” you immediately asked, the fear growing more prominent. all he did was simply chuckled as he said, “you’re a romantic, aren’t you? ‘your lips, my lips, apocalypse’, hmm? is this one of those messy metaphors of yours that doesn’t make any sense?”

he teased, and if not for your prominent blush, it could have your skin grow even warmer than it already has. you’re so flustered and to the angels of heaven above does touya adore the sight of you that stands out from the winter snows.

before you could utter a reply or anything that might spill out from your lips, he looked at the small notebook, a smile slowly carving its way at the corner of his lips.

“i love it. the way you write, the way you describe me. every word, every messy metaphors… it’s perfect.”

to hear his words sent a wave of relief and emotions throughout every inch of your soul. it seemed to warm you up in this cold winter wonderland, providing you with comfort.

“i’m glad you think so,” you chuckled. “i was worried it was too cliché or sentimental.”

“oh believe me when i say this, it is cliché, not sentimental. but it’s those stupid romantic clichés,” touya shut the notebook and handed it to you, watching as you kept it in your pocket, down into the coat it goes.

“stupid romantic clichés…” you repeated, allowing your mind to wander and ponder upon his words. as your conscious mind pays a visit to wonderland, he paused in his tracks, leans down, and collides his lips with yours.

your footsteps came to a halt, eyes widening ever so slightly as his warm hands moved to hold your chin. his lips kissed your top lip, then your bottom lip. at last, a final peck, and another one on your nose.

“there. your lips, my lips...”

“apocalypse,” you smiled.

TAGGING ★ @solvisun @seumyo @angeliicheartt @heartkaji @syverse @rueclfer @suksatoru @poetlus @elssero @redvdress @poemeater @dem1verse @haunted4kent @luvlyycy @skiiyoomin @leahrintarou @bbluefllame @ryescapades @bysarahada @sepptember @sahrii @reocidal

© SENEON 2025 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

interlude

— parings: todoroki touya x reader

— notes: mature language & suggestive content.

— synopsis: a random collection of texts between a violinist and their neighbor bassist

The new, glowing Dabi Funko. I want it!

Though I would love if if they were to make a Touya Funko and Funko for the other family members but I guess this would be asking too much...

pov: he's above you, you're below him.

watch me wrap my legs around that man's waist and go to town.

woa

spiderman dabi

i want this domestic-like fluff

hiii :3 i have a touya drabble for u since u asked, no pressure to write it ofc <3 but here’s the idea, fresh out of a coma dabi barely surviving on the streets, and bro passes out from lack of food/ freezing rainy weather, whateves, paired with a cool teenage runaway reader who takes him to their apartment and nurses him back to health and stuff! reader was probably in bad shape after they first ran away from home, and felt compassion for someone who seems to be in a similar position :( okie sry for yapping! u get the gist! ٩( 'ω' )و

bashing my HEAD IN I LOVE THIS

when touya opens his eyes, the first thing he notices is a ceiling. textured, there's warm but very little light and the sounds of the city are muffled. it takes him about five seconds to jerk upward and fully take in his surroundings.

he doesn't know where he's at. there's very little on the walls, a sparcely furnished room and the couch he currently sits on is worn down to threads and the cushions are lumpy. whoever lives here clearly is just barely getting by.

though he's not expecting you to round the corner. you look so sweet, innocent-- someone who shouldn't be living or around this kind of environment.

"oh!" you're startled to find him awake. "didn't think you'd be up quite yet," the closer you approach, touya can see the dark bags under your eyes and the permanent crease between your brow even though the skin between them is flat. he can see tension in your shoulders even though you're hiding it fairly well. "how are you feeling?"

"who the hell are you?"

you pause in front of him. you had planned on explaining yourself, of course you did. you had a plan of how to lay the story of how you found him out while you made him some noodles over the simple gas stovetop you managed to score in this apartment. but you also should've known he'd react like a feral alleycat being cornered-- wide eyes and on the edge of fleeing if you got too close.

"relax," you state lowly, holding your hands out in a show of surrender, as if he's holding a weapon to your throat. "i found you passed out and on the verge of starvation the other night, just wanted to help nurse you back to health."

touya's lip curls in distaste. he vaugely remembers an empty and hollow feeling in his gut before his eyes shut the last time he'd been conscious. but he also remembers being hidden fairly well in the back of an alley where no random civillain would find him on a normal stroll in case he died mid-sleep.

his eyes roam your form. you look normal. aside from the glaring obvious-- your clothes look worn down and your shoes have seen better days, your apartment looks like a safehouse rather than a home for a teenager living on their own-- touya would assume you're a typical civillain who had a random flit of pity on him.

"why?" he asks, and he can't control how snippy and cold his tone sounds. from the looks of it, you expected it from him. touya doesn't know if that's the reason his chest squeezes or not.

"you needed help," your hand meets his knee for a fleeting squeeze and you ignore how he flinches at the touch. he looks shocked at the fact that you willingly touched him-- sympathy settles like a rock at the bottom of your stomach.

"i didn't ask for help," touya snaps in response, trying and failing to hide the flush that creeps along his cheeks. he tries to rise from the couch but he struggles when it comes to actually lifting himself-- he curses audibly before landing back into the cushion.

you watch the whole event happen with a slight amused expression, touya ignores it. he watches you move towards what you could call the kitchen and throw open the refrigerator. "you didn't ask, but i gave it to you regardless," you say over your shoulder.

touya knows you're making food for him. he doesn't want anything else from you, but he knows he's going to take what you give him.

"'m just giving you what i wished people gave me when i was in that situation."

touya feels his gut hit the floor. he doesn't say anything else.

years later, you find him out on the balcony, smoking with a handle between his fingers. it's been a lazy week at the league, so he can afford to let loose for the time being and relax. he looks lost in thought. staring off into the distance, if you were closer you could've seen the city lights reflected in his eyes, glassy due to intoxication.

touya looks different now. he's dyed his hair black (he never told you why, he just came back one day with the box and had asked for your help) and he's added piercings that you have fond memories of him coming home with.

the scars have gotten darker. the staples have changed color. you've helped change them so many times that you can tell when he needs fresh ones-- especially the ones along his cheekbones.

you lean against the railing beside him, slipping the bottle from his hand and lifting it to your lips for a taste, hissing as the bitterness washes over your tongue and down your throat. after you're done coughing, you look over at him. "what're you thinkin' about?"

"just us," he murmurs in response. his eyes don't leave the skyline.

the two of you have matured over the years. he goes by dabi now, you've donned your own villain name. but to the two of you, in private; you are touya and [y/n]. in private, the two of you are allowed to feel safe and content. you two are allowed to feel.

touya slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side. the action is rough and clumsy-- but the affection is not lost on you. it makes you smile, the little one that brings out the dimple in your cheek. when you lean your head against his shoulder, he rests his head on top of yours.

you feel like you love touya.

touya knows he loves you.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.