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As far as Dabi knew, there were five stages in a normal, old-fashioned relationship.
There was the initial noticing, of course. That was the stage where someone saw a person and thought ‘hey, they seem cool,’ or ‘hey, they look nice’ or even ‘hey, that teenager that looks suspiciously like an estranged brother of mine’.
Any sign of interest could be considered part of the first stage of a relationship. That was why the first stage was also the freest and least limiting stage. Crushes could be considered part of the first stage, friendships could be considered part of the first stage, a multi-hair-colored maybe-brother in the right place, and the right time could be considered part of the first stage.
Then came the second stage (making contact) and then, after that, the third and most important stage.
The third stage was when someone would be asked on a date or, yknow, viciously stalked until confirmed to be the other’s estranged brother who would serve as great revenge against their internationally famous, hot-headed, and abusive father and then physically followed by their now-verified-actual-brother until they develop an unwarranted and concerning fondness towards them.
After that, as far as Dabi knew, came smooth sailing. (The fourth stage: dating)
Dating could consist of many things– most notably holding hands, sharing emotion-filled hugs, and hunting you and your significant other’s father’s sidekicks down and murdering them tastefully. Dating could go on for days, months, years, perhaps even decades before moving on to marriage and potentially starting a family.
For Dabi and Shouto, their dating stage lasted approximately three weeks before they joyfully recited their vows in a broken-down part of Japan's Tokyo prefecture with an officiator that may or may have secretly been five raccoons in a trench coat– though he’d insisted his facial-hair abnormalities were simply a byproduct of a new skincare routine.
They had eloped, of course, breaking the traditional outline they had been conditioned societally to follow to a T, yet the five stages were ever-present in their lives, most noticeably on their 4-day wedding anniversary when Shouto reflected glumly about being quite behind on the family making.
Dabi, who was not blind to Shouto’s sense of baby fever, consoled him with things such as video games, chocolates, and the corpses of various Endeavour supporters. This pattern lasted a while. Shouto would rub his stomach wistfully and glance at Dabi every once in a while, and Dabi would distract him because he wasn’t ready to be a father. Just the idea of having someone be so dependent on him made his stomach churn.
But he worked on it for Shouto. Shouto who peppered him in kisses and hugs, Shouto who just didn't care that they were related– if only their love was strong. Sweet, innocent Shouto.
Finally, after months, Dabi came to a decision.
“I want a baby Shouto,” Dabi said one day as he was lying in bed with his lover. “I know it's not normally possible, even in this world, but I’ve heard rumors about a place where we could actually make this happen.”
Dabi’s voice, normally husky with years of improper care, showed a hint of joy as he imagined what the future could possibly hold
“It’s not that I don’t mind carrying your child,” Shouto mumbled while a light blush dusted across his cheeks, “but why? I never thought this would be something you wanted.”
“I just want to prove to Endeavour that you can have a child, and still take good care of it, even if it steps in the way of your dreams,” Dabi responded, as smoke started to curl off of his form.
“Wait, why are you so focused on Endeavour? Are we, are we brothers?” Shouto asked, as the realization set in that his lover, with his rugged scars, crazed eyes, and pitch-black hair was actually his brother, and he found that he really didn't care.
After all, that would just make his father angrier, now wouldn’t it?
“I-” Dabi was silenced by a single finger on his lips.
“Don't worry, I don't really mind. If anything, that just makes this even better, we won't have to worry about any genetic problems with our baby, because we're both so closely related!” Shouto said, sparkles filling his orbs as his years spent living under the rock known as his father made him believe himself to be completely right.
And Dabi, who never actually finished past the third grade, believed him wholeheartedly as well.
“Well in that case then,” Dabi crowed, “let's go talk to Kurogiri and get us sent to Giran. He’s the person we’ll want to talk to if we want to go forward with this”
The conversation with Kurogiri, while slightly awkward, went surprisingly smooth for a dude who was trying to knock up his younger brother. However, in his emotional high, he failed to miss the contemplative look that adorned Shigarki’s face as the inky darkness of Warpgate swallowed Dabi and Shouto whole.
Similarly, Giran didn't ask any questions, he wasn't paid to, but he did have a few warnings.
“Male pregnancy is risky business, you know that right? There are a lot of things that can go wrong, even if you take all the precautions.”
Dabi and Shouto looked at each other, a million thoughts passing between their orbs— something only siblings or lovers really could do.
“Trust us, we know the risks and we’ll be fine, Giran. Just give me the address for the place we need to go to.”
Giran rattled off the address for the underground clinic, a place in a back alley of Kamino Ward, and left with a final message.
“Just so you know, quirk use is banned inside and around the clinic— security will open fire on you if you use them.”
Dabi thanked him with as much emotion as anyone with burnt toast for a face could and herded Shouto out of the base
Giran watched as they left.
‘God I hope I can use my own quirk on myself. People are fucking weird’
* * *
The clinic was situated at the end of an alley in between two bars. The walk down the alley would have honestly been enough to justify seeing a doctor, with rotting food, animals running about, and what looked like a dead body lying unabashed, propped up behind a dumpster.
Dabi wasn't too sure that the last one was actually a corpse though, because all of the corpses he created normally looked like mummies, with mouths open in a never-ending scream of pain. There was a reason Dabi liked to kill people after all. Inside the clinic was even weirder. There were bouncers everywhere, and the mold and mildew growing all over the ceiling and wall was enough to incapacitate even the strongest of men. They were quickly brought into a room, as if they had been expected.
‘Maybe Giran called in ahead for us,’ Dabi thought idly, too focused on keeping his brother whose nerves and the general atmosphere were causing him to be unsettled.
A knock at the door brought the siblings out of their thoughts. The doctor was a shorter man with some kind of canine mutation. Brown hair covered his body and he looked to be rough, much like a wild animal. The tips of his fingers were also pointed, and judging by the sound they made as they tapped against his pad, hardened as well.
“I trust that you boys know what you’re here for?” The doctor asked, getting right down to business. Upon seeing their nods, he continued.
“The process itself is pretty smooth, although the carrier will be put unconscious for the process, just to avoid any risks from sudden pains and the like. I will ask that the non-carrier give me a bit of his blood in this vial and that they leave during the time the carrier is under.”
The request for a full vial of blood was slightly abnormal, but Dabi figured a quirk that allowed men to become pregnant would be something intense and happily filled a half-pint beaker with his blood.
The doctor gave Dabi one more smile as he left, full of promises, the light drawing attention to his pronounced canines before Dabi stepped out so that the doctor could do his magic. The doctor stepped out a few hours later, with what seemed like happy news.
“The pregnancy process went by really smoothly, surprisingly so in fact! Shouto won't remember much, and the pregnancy itself should be pretty mild– don’t worry though, babies are pretty wild so they’ll more than makeup for it.” The doctor laughed. “You can go inside and take him now. You’re both free to go! Have a good day!” The doctor finished his rambling with a quick toothy smile, giving Dabi a pause.
‘Were his teeth stained red? Nah, I'm sure it’s fine. I need to get Shouto back to the base and get him settled’
* * *
Eight months later, things had progressed on plan; though perhaps this may have been due to Dabi not having finished the third grade and consequently still being under the assumption that babies came from piss and not through the process of sexual relations. Everyone he told that theory looked at him funny, and the day Dabi had told that theory to his father was coincidentally also the day where Dabi received most of his scars and faked his death. Not that these two facts were related though.
Regardless, Dabi started to see results around the five-month mark. Shouto was starting to slow down a bit, and he was having a lot of mood swings. To everyone else, Shouto looked completely fine, but Dabi was well versed in the art of Todoroki-emotion-sensing™, being one himself.
The pregnancy continued to progress at a steady rate, with Shouto’s underbelly slowly growing in size. He never complained about any pain, however, and Dabi subsequently thought his birth would be an easy, nice one.
Which was why, now that Shouto was crying and nearly bent entirely in half if not for his protruding stomach, Dabi was surprised and immensely concerned.
As Shouto cried out again, Dabi jerked forward and quickly picked him up. He rushed down the stairs of the new base into the underground medic clinic, Shouto in tow, steadying his bro-ver as the nurses, who were all Nomu, rushed around getting various things ready for this momentous occasion
“Shigaraki,” he called it out sharply as his brother keened under his touch, and the blue-haired villain looked taken aback at Dabi's ruffled appearance.
“What’s wrong,” Shigaraki said after composing himself again, “baby brother having stomach pain?”
“He’s having the baby” was all the Dabi could say, not even bothering to snap back. “Grab the baby bag”
Shigaraki choked. “How the fuck should I know where your goddam baby bag is, you perv. And what the fuck, I didn't know you fucking paid for your brother to get pregnant now.”
Shouto mewled as the Nomu took him from Dabi's grasp and lifted him onto a sterile table they had set up, and Dabi swung his head between the two scenes nervously.
“Just find it, okay!? I’m a bit nervous here.”
"AHHH" came a cried pain from the table, as Shouto started arching in place, ice and fire going everywhere
"Fuck, we need that baby bag now, " said Dabi, slowly starting to lose that iron control of his emotions that he was known for.
"I-" Shigaraki was trying to say something before a loud scream came from the higher base, and he got a phone call from the burner phone he had in his pocket. As Dabi watched him from the corner of his eye, he noticed Shigaraki's orbs widen, before he rushed upstairs back to the main base.
Dabi decided to forget about it for now, as he watched Shouto slowly stop screaming due to the opioids dripping into his bloodstream from the IV bag. Was it safe for the baby? Probably not, but this is also a world where males can give birth like fucking hyenas so who was to say what was harmful or not for the baby. He could, as he watched from the sidelines, see Shouto's underbelly slowly expanding as he was getting ready to burst like a pea in a pod
Meanwhile, Shigaraki returned and Dabi finally realized what he had run upstairs for, as he was carrying a very swollen, very in pain, very pregnant , Izuku Midoriya.
Toga skipped down behind the two and she giggled at every whine of pain Izuku let out.
“Isn’t he soooooo cute,” she cooed at Izuku as she tickled his swollen stomach.
Shigaraki gave her a dirty look and jerked away.
“Stop that you bitch,” he scowled and held Izuku tighter to his chest. Toga just rolled her eyes and swung two identical bags like a yo-yo in front of her, bored.
As a Nomu escorted Izuku into yet another makeshift hospital bed setup mere inches from Shouto’s, Toga skipped over to Dabi, where she dropped one of the plastic bags and reached up to ruffle his hair.
“Little Dabi’s going to be a father now huh,” she laughed to herself even though nobody paid her any mind, “a big brother again too, I suppose.”
Her laughs grew as Izuku and Shouto’s groans grew in volume until they slowly progressed into screams.
Toga turned around to see outlines covered by faint centimeters of skin bulging inches from where they should be. Dabi and Shigaraki looked in horror as the figures enclosed in their lovers’ skins continued to grow.
Again, it grew larger and larger to the point past sheer concern.
Piercing screams rang through the hideout as the two boys reached their breaking point. Izuku and Shouto gripped at each other, sobbing and covered in blood and mucus, remains of their own skin painting their faces. They screamed again and Shouto burst into flames, Izuku into lightning. The smoke it created dissipated agonizingly slowly and the two men called desperately to their lovers in the pitch dark,
“Izuku!? Shouto!?”
Yet there was never any answer.
Dabi rubbed at his eyes again as another wave of smoke blew into his face, and he looked at his hands to find them soaked.
Blood.
Shigaraki was splattered in it just the same, he noticed, as he turned sharply to look.
Yet, when he found the man looking at nothing but the scene he had just turned from, he changed directions swiftly.
Dabi looked in horror at the barely-even-there remains. It was a horrible scene, blood and guts and organs strewn everywhere.
Yet, the gore was different between the two. On the left, Shouto. His corpse was still preserved from the pecs upward, though his face was unrecognizable and his hair had singed into nothingness. The bottom of his body was completely gone. His legs were nothing but stray pieces of meat, goop, and ash– something to do with the sheer force of the thing that had burst out of him having paired with the explosion of his quirk– and the bones that should have been there were crumbled in a way that looked not unlike dandruff.
His midsection was slightly more defined– the pregnancy had strengthened it. Still, the skin and tissue of his stomach folded cleanly upwards, reaching his neck in a way that would have tickled his chin had he not been long dead. Blood still poured out of the wound like a river, and he looked like he had been covered in a gorey blanket of browns and reds.
And despite the horror of the scene he had left behind, Izuku looked undeniably worse. Unlike Shouto, he had not been spared the grace of keeping his face intact. The parts of his lips that were not charred beyond recognition were peeled upwards onto his forehead in a cruel mockery of a scream, the divets where his eyes once were looked so bare– the nerves leading to them were frayed and the actual eyes long gone.
The skin from his cheekbones pulled inwards and exposed the raw bloody tissue on the sides of his face, and though the skin had peeled away and was there, out in the open, it did not bleed– cauterized by the sheer heat the power of the explosion brought.
The true gore of his face, however, could be found in and around the hole that had been his mouth. The green-haired hero’s jaw had been detached so far that they were no longer even in the same vicinity, and the area where they used to be was red and raw.
The canal of his throat hadn’t been given the dignity of closing, still open wide enough to fit two full fists. The veins in his esophagus had clearly burst, and the roof of his mouth was dripping blood from the way his teeth had sunk into the roof of his mouth– lined in a jagged row, stray tooth by stray tooth. His tongue too, was bleeding, his bottom row of teeth had found a home in the muscle and was drawing steady drips of blood.
The rest of his body was a horrible mess as well, skin and veins and organs decorated him everywhere, and his rib cage stuck out from beneath his skin abnormally. His legs hadn't disintegrated like Shoutos, yet the scene they had been left in was just as horrible. His hips had broken so cleanly that his knees fell flat on both sides of his torso, and his fingers had stabbed into the gash that separated his upper and lower body.
Dabi and Shigaraki gaped at the bloodshed, yet what astounded them the most was a wriggling that contrasted clearly from their corpses. Something was still alive.
Dabi shared a look with the other villain, and the two nodded before the dark-haired man took the first step forward. As he did so, the wriggling stopped. He waited a moment before he took another step, then another. Soon, he towered directly above the mangled bodies– directly above the monster that had ruined his lover’s body and taken his life. His breathing was staggered by that point, and the earth-shaking nausea that had been missing due to sheer shock had returned in full force. He barely kept down the vomit and blood in his own mouth as he watched in horror.
The monster moved once, then twice. It jerked a few times frantically, then paused. Then the pattern repeated, almost like a jig. Dabi waited for a minute for some sort of discrepancy in the pattern, yet none came.
The black-haired man looked back to see Shigaraki behind him, though he was no longer looking at him as he stood. Instead, he had hunched into himself, and his eyes had gone blank.
Dabi whispered, “Shigaraki?”
No response.
Then again, “Shigaraki?”
After a third time, Dabi took a step away from the bodies, reaching toward the only other living man in the room. Yet, as he did so, the monster whined, butting against the cloak of skin.
“Fuck this– Shigaraki?” Dabi said it gruffly and loud despite the tears that had formed in the corner of his eyes, and his tongue pressed against his teeth to prevent any undue spews a reflexive gag could cause. “I think you should see thi-”
The monster pushed at the skin, and finally, Dabi could see what was there. A baby. Yet, not a baby.
A real baby wouldn’t have survived the explosion, for one.
Yet despite the oddity of the situation, Dabi rushed to grab it. He would not forsake any part of his lover, he would not take for granted the only bond left between his brother and himself.
It was still bloody– covered in both the gore of his sire and the gore of the Nomu nurse whose mangled corpse had gone unnoticed on the floor– yet that wasn't the most unusual part about it. Though Dabi hadn’t been present to the birth of a great many children, he was quite certain they weren't meant to look like this , almost unseeable except for large almond-shaped eyes that protruded through the damp, surprisingly thick, bloodsoaked hair that covered the child head to toe.
He kept staring and staring as he looked at the child that ended up taking the life of the person he loved the most, and though he tried he could see none of Shouto in him.
The child that hid in Izuku’s body mewled.
“Shigaraki!” Dabi yelled it this time, and he stared at the huge lump in Izuku’s parted stomach. The blue-haired man looked blankly for a moment before blinking– the tears that had hidden at the edges of his eyes finally being let free.
“Your baby– it’s alive!”
That seemed to be enough for the villain to snap out of whatever trance he had been stuck in, running towards the bloody scene.
Lightly, Dabi turned to Izuku’s body and peeled off the skin that was hiding his offspring. From the back, the newborn looked almost identical to the one Dabi had helped sire, except for a shadow of green that cloaked the pure black pupils on his face. Electric green .
As he turned the child around, he noticed a gross oddity in its bone structure– this new child had his nose pulled so forwards it almost mimicked the muzzle of a dog. The sockets where his eyes lay were irregular too, and instead of where they were supposed to be they had been placed firmly near the ears, poking out from the sides of the kid’s head.
Dabi knew that something had clearly gone wrong with the birthing process, but for the first time he started to fear for the integrity of the children. With a new fervor, he turned to his own child, and he brushed the hair out of his eyes and face as he handed the other newborn to Shigaraki.
The first thing he noticed about the baby when he pushed the mountain of hair back (a boy, though that was the least of his discoveries) was how skeletal it looked. Its too-long neck only highlighted this, and Dabi could see its ribcage jutting out of its body unnaturally. It didn’t carry the same muzzle deformity as Izuku’s kin, but from the groin below it looked entirely animal. The only reason Dabi hadn’t noticed it, in fact, was the fur-like hair that obstructed everything and anything from view.
“What the fuck is this?” Shigaraki spat as he glanced at the thing that was supposed to be his child– his hands were extended away from him as if afraid the mutated monster would somehow spread its abnormality to him.
Dabi stood, rooted to the spot, and he couldn’t answer. How could this thing have come from his Shouto’s body? He wondered it in shocked horror. How could this monster have taken his lover, his brother , from him.
His burnt lips parted suddenly and he hunched over, spewing the contents of his stomach onto the animal. The mush poured from his mouth in such an unstoppable way and Dabi choked for air as he gagged again and again. His throat burned as the bile piled up once more and after a few moments, tears rolled freely down his face. He spewed again and again until all the food in his stomach exited his body, and even then he gurgled on his own spit as his gags took control of him.
“That seems pretty overdramatic of you, Dabi-Kun,” A high female voice giggled from behind him, and Shigaraki turned to face it sharply. Dabi, too, jerked away from his vomit-drenched arms, turning as lines of stained spit hung from his lips and chin uselessly.
Toga stood there, behind them, and her grin reached from ear to ear as her tongue darted around her face to lick the blood on it. “Personally, I think the babies look cute!”
The two male villains looked at her, slack-jawed, as she laughed in pure amusement. “This went even better than I thought it would! Did you like it too, Shigaraki-Kun? I warned you that babies can be pretty wild !”
Blue eyes widened as he remembered the origin of those very same words. The IVF appointment. The Doctor was Toga. Toga did this.
“You….” Dabi choked, and Shigaraki held him up with the weight of his shoulders, just barely. “You planned this.”
“Wow, Dabi-Kun, so smart!” Toga twirled her bloody mess of hair happily. “I did plan this!”
“Why? How,” asked Shigaraki, as Dabi bent over, wracked with hysterical sobs.
Toga shrugged noncommittally. “I was just bored, I suppose.”
The blue-haired villain screamed at her and launched himself towards her as he clawed his arms uselessly.
“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU,” Shigaraki cried crazily, and Dabi fell onto the concrete floor weightlessly with a sickening crack of bones. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS, YOU FUCKING BITCH.”
The blonde just laughed as she dodged his blows lazily– left then right, then left again.
“Are you sad?” she taunted, “You’ll never see Izuku-Kun again, you know. Never .”
A cry tore out of the blue-haired villain’s throat, and his mouth drew his own blood as his teeth smacked against each other painfully, his neck extending forward in hopes of biting off the blonde’s flesh.
Toga pushed at his head as he jutted towards her, and after a few seconds she giggled as she told him, “Little baby Tomura, so sad.”
Then, “As fun as this is, I have to go now!”
Shigaraki barely blinked by the time she had disappeared, and his fingernails tore at where she had been uselessly for a moment before he dropped to the floor too– like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
His head was given the mercy of the stone, unlike Dabi’s which looked to be oozing a steady stream of blood.
“We’ll never see them again,” Dabi whispered. “Never.”
Shigaraki slammed his fist into the hard ground, and it cracked and bent painfully— broken. He paid no mind.
“Fuck you.” He told Dabi, and then he got up and laughed. “Fuck you.”
He grabbed onto the black-haired villain’s hair and dragged him painfully to the beds that held the corpses of the people that they had once held dearest, and the rocky material of the ground scraped patch after patch of skin off of Dabi’s face, almost like a potato being peeled.
Once the short stride to the beds had been completed, Shigaraki jerked Dabi’s head upwards and dangled it in front of the bloodshed.
“Fuck you. You’re fucking wrong. Izuku’s right here, see. Izuku’s right here right?”
Dabi whimpered as Shigaraki tightened his grip on his head. He slammed the blue-eyed man’s face into the metal railing of the bed.
“Izuku’s right fucking here right .”
“He’s here.” Dabi gasped as his face dripped with carnage from the collision, “Izuku’s here, Shouto’s here. Nothing happened.”
“That’s fucking right,” Shigaraki dropped Dabi without a second thought, and he scooped up a pile of blood, flesh, and veins.
He looked down at it and then he screamed, flinging at a wall like a deranged animal.
“HE’S RIGHT HERE, DAMMIT. IZUKU’S RIGHT HERE.”
Shigaraki let out a visceral noise as he grabbed Dabi’s limp body from the ground with one hand and shoveled the remains of the gore in the other.
“Fuck you,” he whispered as he threw the bloody mess at Dabi. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.”
“Stop,” was all the other villain could plead weakly as his eyes were soon covered in mushy flesh. “Please stop.”
Shigaraki didn’t stop.
“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.” He screamed suddenly. “WITHOUT YOU THIS WOULDN’T HAVE FUCKING HAPPENED.”
Tears rolled down Dabi’s face as his head met the concrete once, twice, three times.
“I FUCKING HATE YOU, AND YOU‘RE GOING TO DIE.”
Dabi didn’t seem to doubt it, and he went even limper in Shigaraki's arms.
There was another blow, then another blow and three more from there before Dabi passed out and Shigaraki threw him on the floor, uninterested.
“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU TOO, YOU BASTARD TOGA.” He yelled it into the sky. “I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”
He finally fell to the ground himself as he clawed at his neck. He drew blood once, twice, three times, laughing.
“I hate you all,” he whispered as he lay quiet finally, minutes later with his fingers now drenched in his own blood. “I hate every single one of you.”
And as a piece of flesh— bubbling and blackened from the heat— slid from Shouto’s table and onto the floor, Shigaraki finally slumped in on himself, passing out as Toga’s laughter echoed in the background.