Touya Todoroki X Reader Arranged Marriage - Blog Posts

Two Rings and a Promise - Part 1

Prince!Touya x Duchess!Reader

Warnings: talks of marriage, arson, people being burnt to death (not reader), flashbacks, angst, reader and Touya got engaged as children (like it used to be done in the past between royals and nobles)

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Header by @pricetagofficial

Note: I accidentally published this instead of saving it as a draft, but it was basically done, save for a few details, so screw it. Biggest thank yous to @sparklytamaki for being my beta reader and helping me with writing this for over a year. This is also for @feitanporter, @dabisqueen, @crimsonkenjii-writes, and @pricetagofficial who have been meaning to read it! Thank you all for your patience!

You stare back at yourself through the mirror, focusing on your maids finishing the final touches on your makeup and jewelry. Wearing your favorite color, you are supposed to show a happy face for this occasion. You can’t even practice faking a smile for the crowd gathered downstairs waiting for you.

This is not how you expected your wedding to go. But then again, your dream marriage was never to happen. You had envisioned yourself in a pretty white dress, comfortable enough to allow you to run in an open field, wearing flowers on your head, holding hands with the one you had chosen to marry. It seemed like child’s play, looking back, but you and Touya were serious making that promise to yourselves. To wait until you were old enough to exchange real vows in front of a real priest on a real altar. Not because it suited your parents’ interests, but because it was what you wanted. Politics be damned, you made a choice as to what to do with your lives.

A bitter smile distorted your face as you remembered. None of your maids dared asking about it; they simply carried on with their work in silence. You looked down at your left hand and the ring that was already placed on your finger. A precious aquamarine stone set among small diamonds within a circular arrangement on a silver band. You recall stealing it from your mother’s dressing room, along with its match from your father’s. Another silver ring, the same type of stone in the same shape, but with a simpler setting. The image of Touya’s face lightening up when you gave it to him, showing him yours and telling him how these rings were proof of your promises; that look in his eyes, a blessing at that time, hasn’t stopped haunting you since. It was the image of a boy finally learning somebody wanted him. And you did want him. Maybe not during your first meeting -a very awkward playdate arranged by his father the King and your father the Duke-, but definitely after a few years, when you had become the best of friends. Two lonely children keeping each other company, in a pleasant game you were sure was gonna last forever.

Oh, silly child. Soon you will learn what it is to live in the real world.

A sob escapes from the bottom of your chest as you take the ring off, never to wear it again. You chastise yourself for this display of emotion, trying to stifle it as you tie a simple chain around the ring, then your neck. You tried not to get too worked up: after all, the wedding wasn’t taking place until tomorrow night. Tonight was just a feast held in your new fiancé’s honor, to welcome him into your lands before welcoming him into your bed. One of your uncle’s eccentricities, you suppose. He’s always looking for any excuse to create displays of grandeur to impress foreigners, especially if the money to pay for them came from someone else’s pocket. After both your parents died, your uncle took over your estate -but only until you turned of age, he assured you. He promised he would only take your best interests in mind. You were still a child back then, and needed someone to rely on. So you believed him, and let him into your home. You could have never guessed he would overstay his welcome, up to a few years into your adulthood.

You hid the ring inside your corset, closer to your heart, where it would rest for the rest of your days, next to Touya’s memory. You took a deep breath and slightly raised your head as you stared at yourself through the mirror once again.

They will never take him away from you.

Looking perfect, you adopted a serene, neutral expression, adequate enough to greet your guests downstairs.

This was to be a long night.

Haunting. That is how you would describe this entire ordeal. A haunting circus in which everyone mocked your pain under the guise of a celebration. Sitting on your banquet chair for the past two hours or so, you refused to be a part of it, despite your body going numb. Paying no mind to their ghoulish smiles, barely acknowledging their empty congratulations - this was a line of clowns in their best clothes that seemed to be endless as the night dragged on.

You wished you could disappear.

Somewhere, in your haze, you could hear children running around. Servants’ sons and daughters, laughing merrily as if they had a big secret among themselves, like backstage workers who knew the trick behind every performance, amazing the audience. You were once their age, right? Running about carelessly with your friends, play-pretending to be someone else, pushing each other on swings, sneaking out to steal treats from the kitchen, talking about everything and nothing... It was another life, one you can never return to.

“Milady, look!” a cheerful voice pulled you out of your stupor. Looking down, you see a tiny crowd of around 5 children surrounding your seat, looking up at you, expectantly. One of them, the youngest of the girls, was holding out a small bouquet of wildflowers, waiting for you to take it. “It’s for you! We spent all morning picking them in the fields!”

Alas, the first genuine smile of the night broke into your face. You took the flowers and brought them closer to your face to enjoy their sweet smell.

"Thank you, dear." you replied with a soft tone. "They're beautiful. I hope you didn't go through too much trouble finding them."

"My lady, is it true you're leaving us?" a concerned boy stepped forward to ask.

You blinked twice, not expecting them to know about this. But then again, it's only natural they do. Your wedding has been the only talk at your estate these past few weeks.

"Why... I'm afraid I am." you admitted sheepishly.

"But why?!" another girl stepped forward.

"Because I am getting married tomorrow, to a Count that is not from around here. And well... when a woman marries a man, she leaves her own home to move into his."

"But what if she doesn't want to?"

You were left wordless at this. That was a good question.

"Children!" a worried maid came running along. "What are you doing here, bothering the Duchess? It is way past your bedtime." she managed to gather the kids around and take them away. "I'm so sorry, your Grace, I could have sworn they were asleep-"

"It's fine, really." you intervened, amused. "They just came to present me with these." you showed off your flowers. "They have been very kind to me. Tell them I will stop by to say goodbye tomorrow, that will settle them."

"O-of course, my Lady."

"One more thing, before you go. Could you bring me another glass of wine? Better yet, bring the whole pitcher, please."

The young maid furrowed her brow at this, yet she bowed and made her way back to the kitchen.

Your drink arrived, but you couldn’t get that girl’s question out of your head.

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

It did not matter.

“But I don’t want to go!” you sobbed while your mother struggled to tie your coat on - the maids already worn out from your fighting against getting dressed to leave at once. “I know, darling, but this is something we must do, whether we like it or not.” she tried to reason with you.

“But why?!”

“Because we must obey the King’s orders. He commanded that you moved to live at Court-”

“But I don’t want to live with the King!” you started bawling again. “He scares me!” An ill-tempered, loud-spoken giant with cold blue eyes and a flaming beard, he was a sore sight to behold whenever he showed up. Had he not had the respect of all his courtiers, anyone would have mistaken him for an ogre.

Your mother scoffed, amused. “I know. He scares me too, but you won’t be living with him.” you stop struggling, confused. “Instead, you’ll move in with his children. You remember them, right? Princess Fuyumi and Prince Touya.” she emphasized on that last name. “You have played together when they’ve come to visit us here. Now you’ll get to play with them whenever you want, only this time in their palace.” she finally managed to lace your coat closed.

You sniffled. “I want to stay with you...”

“I know, darling.” she picked you up in her arms. “But sometimes we must do things we don’t want to. You know why?” you shook your head. “Because they’re what’s right, even if they don’t seem like that at first. In the long run, you’ll see they were for the best.” she kissed the top of your head. “I promise your father and I will come visit you at the first chance we get. But I bet that, with your new friends, you’ll barely have time to miss us.”

You didn’t think so, but stayed quiet. Your mother was making an effort to comfort and encourage you, but it wasn’t fully working. She smiled and you tried to follow, pretending her words had their desired effect. You learned something important: what you want did not matter. All you had to do in life was to smile and let yourself get carried away by the decisions of others.

"I see you have a way with children." your fiancé the Count invited himself to sit next to you. Your smile faded. "That's endearing."

You held your breath, expecting another comment discussing you having children in the near future. It never came: just him staring at you.

"Hm." was all that came out of your mouth.

He sighed in disappointment.

"Could you please use more than one syllable when talking to me?"

You took a sip of your wine and finally turned around to look at him.

"I could."

He sighed again, shaking his head.

"I know that the circumstances leading to our engagement were not... ideal.” he started. “But that doesn’t mean we should start this marriage on bad terms.”

“I thought we already did. What, with everything you did in order to force me to accept your hand.”

“I know it may seem like I forced you, but-”

“You and my uncle, plotting behind my back.” you interrupted.

“Well, what choice did I have?” he snapped.

“You could have simply asked me to marry you, like any decent man would.”

“I did! Several times! But you rejected me every single one of them.”

“And you didn’t get the hint?” you asked sarcastically.

He grunted, exasperated by now. “All I want is a peaceful, loving marriage...”

“Then find someone else to marry.” you interrupted again, beyond done with this conversation. “Someone who truly wants you.”

“But I want you!” he yelled, fist banging on the table, turning several heads into his direction.

Despite this embarrassing moment, you remained with a calm demeanor. “And that is exactly what you are getting, so I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

He stared at you, eyes fuming, not believing what you just said. You ignored him, leaving your seat but taking your drink with you.

“Ah, my dear Count!” your uncle’s loud voice startled you as he barged in. “Please excuse my niece’s behavior. She’s always had an attitude, especially when nervous, but that is normal among young women these days.” you scoffed. “I do see several guests that have been meaning to congratulate you all night. Why don’t you go over to greet them while I talk with the Duchess? It won’t be long, I promise.”

The Count obliged, nodding at the two of you before walking away. You immediately seized the opportunity to do the same, but were promptly grabbed into staying.

“What is your problem?” your uncle’s tone shifted into something less cordial and more menacing. It didn’t phase you, though.

“I could ask you the same, to both of you. Everything is going your way and yet you’re still complaining-”

“It’s because of you! Your sour face ruins the mood for everyone!”

“So? What am I supposed to do? Nobody said anything about me having to look happy tonight. But don’t worry: if I leave, none of you will have to see how I really feel about all this nonsense. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Now, you listen to me girl.” he tightened his grip on your arm, applying enough pressure to make it hurt and surely leave a bruise afterwards -something that used to make you cry when you were younger, but now it was all the same. “With everything I have done to make a good match for you, you should be grateful I managed to secure this marriage-.”

You laughed. “You call that a good match? Seriously? And who asked you to do all that work in the first place? You didn’t even consult me about it, instead you simply decided it was the best-”

“The best thing for you!” he interrupted.

“For you and your plans to keep running this estate, my property, as yours and yours alone.” You corrected, voice raising. “Now that I’m old enough to take over my position as Duchess, everyone wonders why I haven’t. So, instead of letting them know what an usurping piece of shit you are, you sell me off to the first asshole desperate enough to play dirty and help you evict me out of my own home.”

“Enough!” he raised his hand while pulling you closer to make sure you took the hit. A subconscious reaction, he stopped halfway through, upon remembering you weren’t alone in the room.

You scoffed, shoving him, and releasing yourself from his grasp. Wine had spilled all over your dress.

“Tomorrow you will get what you want: I will be gone, having become someone else’s problem. And if there is one good thing coming out of this is that I will never have to see your fucking face ever again!” You ended up yelling at him, not caring about everyone’s gazes placed on you.

Just as your voice boomed, the sound of an explosion could be heard all over the great hall. Everyone went silent, confusion rising like a cloud of smoke. Another explosion followed; this time accompanied by agonizing screams of dying men. It was close. Close enough to rattle the entire room. You looked at your uncle, whose eyes were set on the Count, before falling on you. He then left your side to announce: “Beloved guests, please remain seated. Rest assured you are safe here. I will inquire with the Head Guard and get to the bottom of this.” Another roar interrupted him.

A bright blue flare blew the doors open, pushing forward whoever was standing near and throwing in a couple of carbonized corpses. Panic instantly rose at the sight of it; you choked a scream by covering your mouth with your trembling hands. The guests wasted no time escaping through the side doors. You stood still, looking back at your servants and ladies fleeing to safety. The kitchen maid looked at you, hesitant on leaving you behind. You quietly nodded, signaling it was okay. Whoever was intruding, it was up to you to deal with them.

A tall, dark figure walked among the flames and smoke. He strolled in so casually, hands inside the pockets of his large black coat, with an uncaring, almost bored-looking expression.

No secret to who he was. Dabi. A villain fitting his description, notorious for his destructive power -one you never expected to witness firsthand. His looks characterized him just as well as his flames did: messy black hair framing his face, dark rugged patches of burnt skin contrasting with healthy-looking one. You couldn’t help but to wonder about the scars: did they hurt? How long did he have them for? What’s their story?

All those questions were thrown aside once you managed to look into his eyes. Something about them resonated with you. A chilling shade of light blue, the more you looked at them, the more they drew you in, like a pull or hypnosis.

He scanned you up and down before letting his gaze inspect the rest of the room.

“So I guess the party’s over, huh?” was the first thing he said, coated with sarcasm. But he wasn’t wrong. Only you, your uncle and the Count stood in front of him.

“What are you doing here, villain?” your uncle asked with a hint of disgust. “We want no business with those of your kind.”

The villain in question ignored him, taking his time to walk over to you.

“I heard you’re getting married… tomorrow, right?”

You pursed your lips tightly, just nodding as a response, not breaking eye contact.

"To whom? Him?" he lazily pointed at your groom-to-be.

You nodded again, this time managing to let out a few words.

"That's the plan..."

He took another look at the Count, then turned back with a scoff. His soft giggles echoed in the room.

"Yeah... that's not going to happen." He smiled at the men next to you.

"How dare you?" exclaimed your insulted fiancé. "You have no right-"

Dabi lifted a fiery fist in his direction; enough to shut him up.

"Be honest with me." he continued, azure eyes never leaving you. "Was this your idea?"

"Say nothing!" your uncle ordered. "Not a word to this villain!"

You gulped, tongue tied. You, usually speaking your mind, were at a loss of words, not knowing if you should speak up or not. You looked at your uncle, then the Count, with a feeling that whatever you said next will reflect on them. However hateful they were, you dreaded the idea of them getting harmed because of you.

“I asked you a question.” Dabi's face got closer to yours, while his tone became more commanding. He startled you, but you quickly regained your composure. "Did you choose him?"

You shook your head, brows creasing. "No. I never wanted to get married at all. Not to anyone." Somehow, all your truths came spilling out.

He smiled.

"Is that so? Well, Y/N... I guess that means I arrived at a good time, then." he gave a few steps back.

"What do you mean-?"

A bright blue blaze came out of his extended hand, immediately reaching the Count. A set of screams filled the room, forcing you to set your gaze on a scorching body, falling to the ground as he was quickly being consumed by the fire. You gasped and covered your face. A step back made you fall on the ground, the skirts of your dress making for a soft landing. You began to feel dizzy as that horrid smell reached you. Your former betrothed lay dead on the ground, carbonated rests of a human. You could just faint from what you were witnessing, trying your best to even your breathing.

"Wh- what the hell have you done?!" your uncle raised his voice, his tone angry yet terrified. "You wretched villain, you-!"

"Is that the only word you know, old man?" Dabi looked at him, unamused. "'Villain' this, 'villain' that?" he took a few steps towards him, hand in his pockets. "You really think that's an insult, don't you?"

"What gives you the right-?"

"I take it you were the mastermind behind this arrangement, then?"

"This is none of your business!"

That put a smile on Dabi's face. "Really? You trying to marry off Y/N is none of my business?" his smile widens. Your uncle kept walking backwards for a safe distance, to no avail.

There was nothing else you could do, besides watching both men. Your hands balled into fists as your gaze observed the stranger in detail. Something about him, about his eyes, resonated with you.

"Now that's just dumb." his hand moved to pull something out of his pocket. "You should know better, old man." Your eyes widened as you saw a silver ring being placed on his finger. "You can't give out what's someone else's."

You gasped, like a madwoman who was just given her sense back. It almost sounded like a scream. "Touya!" you exclaimed the only word on your mind.

He set his eyes on you, those beautiful blues, for a fleeting instant before removing them.

"Good to know at least one of you recognizes me..."

"That's impossible!" your uncle exclaimed, drawing all attention towards him. "Prince Touya is dead! He was-"

"Killed by his own flames?" he smiled again as he lit up his hand. "Did they look like these?"

Touya was delighted in seeing the panicked state your uncle was reduced to.

"Y'know, I just can't stand people like you... if you're going to act like you're the boss here, you should at least have something to back you up." he chuckled. "That won't be a problem anymore." Those were the last words your uncle got hear.

"No! Wait!" you cried for nothing, as Touya launched his flames to the man in front of him.

You closed your eyes shut and covered your ears, not wanting to witness another man burning to death. Shaking, you forced yourself to look up, placing your trembling hands on your lap. Cold blue eyes were set on you with a neutral expression. You gulped, not daring to speak, waiting on his next move. Your life was in his hands, and he knew it, but didn't seem to care.

"There." he finally spoke. "You're free." he walked past you, out of the great hall and into the hallways. "We can talk about how you can pay me back later."

Breathing had become nearly impossible. Your chest struggling to move evenly. You could bawl, you could vomit, you could faint... But Touya didn't look back, his steps echoing in the room. Time didn't seem to pass anymore. You didn't register your servants running towards you in a hurry, having waited for the villain to leave. You didn't see their worried faces around you, nor hear them calling, panicking as your consciousness abandoned you.

Based on a conversation I was having with @anima197

Imagine husband Dabi, scumbag as usual adapting as a newlywed to you

It’s been around a month of you two moving in a small but nice house that his parents bought for you. He’s always been an asshole by personality, but one day he goes too far.

Maybe it’s something he said in a cruel jest to see you rise to the bait, or maybe he touched you in a way that was more than offensive or hurtful. Either way, you finally snap- except, you don’t combust and break down quietly, you turn cold as stone.

You set your jaw, keep your eyes cool and indifferent as you skirt around him when he walks by. He doesn’t know that he’s upset you because you usually brush his tactics off with an eye roll or a pout. He’s never seen you like this, completely ignoring him and barely acknowledging his existence while he tries to get you bothered.

He tries pushing you against a wall to make you flustered, but it doesn’t work. You will your body to become limp and unresponsive as he snarls into your neck and litters it with hickies, desperately trying to pull some sort of sound of either pleasure or pain from you. It doesn’t matter how his hands dance around your tits and between your legs, you just stare ahead past him, your mouth set in a straight line.

He draws back uncertainly at your lack of response, and his heart drops to his stomach when he doesn’t even see tears in your eyes from overstimulation, like you usually do when he attacks you like this.

Before he can even open his mouth you’re already gently pushing past him, and it’s the fact that you’re not even angry or shoving him that makes panic settle on his heart.

This…this indifference, this feeling as if he doesn’t mean anything to you breaks his cocky attitude .

At first he tries to refute the feeling, he merely trails behind you from room to room picking up random objects and pretending that he’s actually doing something apart from eyeing you and assessing your demeanor.

You don’t pay any attention to him. You open your laptop and absentmindedly hum as you begin working on whatever class or job you have. He stands at the entrance, fiddling with a vase and looking at you from the corner of your eye.

“Did you eat yet?” He says in his hoarse voice, almost embarrassed to talk to you after his earlier libido was met with no reaction at all.

Silence.

He sighs frustratedly and runs a hand through his ivory hair. Turning on his heel, he storms out of the room and mindlessly goes to the kitchen, making as big as a racket as possible in hopes of luring you out of your catatonic state to yell at him for being too loud.

He eats alone, in silence.

He doesn’t finish his crappy sandwich, fuming at the bland bread that substitutes for the plentiful food you always make for him.

It’s almost evening now, and you haven’t come out of your room yet to even use the restroom. He’s getting worried now, you’ve never been so quiet before. You’ve at least been fed in the face, a finger pointed at his chest as you yell at him for how he fucked up. So why can’t you do that now? At least he’ll know what to apologize for, dammit! Why does he have to wring it out of you?

He decides a different tactic now.

Hed bully your emotions out of you, one way or another.

You’re about to change your clothes when he walks in for the umpteenth time. You don’t lift your head when he slams the door open and closes it behind him, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Why are you being such a bitch today?”

After a few beats of silence, he barrels towards you while you shrug on your nightie. He grabs your face towards him and knocks on your forehead harshly.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” He shakes your head lightly.

You look at his collarbones and then gently pull your face away, heading off to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Dabi stares at you in shock, his ha da still suspended in midair. Did he really mess up that badly?

The panic in his heart has risen to his throat, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

He’s 13 years old again

His father is ignoring him

He messed up, he didn’t train well enough today

In the process of trying to be better than everyone else he had effectively isolated himself again

He’s practically invisible because he fucked up so bad

He stumbles back out of the room and falls onto the couch, clutching his hair and panting with wide eyes into a pillow. It takes him a couple of minutes to tone down his impending panic attack

By the time he has enough nerve to get into bed with you, the lights are already off and you’re seemingly fast asleep.

Dabi quietly trudges over to the side of the bed and stands over your sleeping figure.

You look so peaceful right now without any part of him to bother you. He wonders if you’re better off without him.

He slowly crawls under the sheets with you and faces your back. He knows you need space but he can’t help it when his arms move around you to hold you tight against him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did to make you this upset, but I know I fucked up. Please just-“

His voice catches in his throat, and at this you crack an eye open, making sure to keep your breathing deep and level.

“Just tell me what I did. Or at least just forgive me for whatever I did…I miss you.” He whispers this last part and buried his head in your hair, taking deep breaths and inhaling your scent. It makes his aching heart beat a little slower.

You don’t say anything, but after a full minute of silence you slowly turn to face him. He unconsciously grips your body harder against him as if he were afraid you’re going to push him away again.

But instead to his amazement, you have both eyes open and trained on him. He knows to keep his mouth shut when you prop your head up on one hand and frown slightly at him.

“You’ve been on my nerves for the past week now. Every time I try to talk you either cut me off or just shut me up with sex. You never clean up after yourself and laugh it off when I actually ask you to do something.”

He swallows hard and waits with bated breath for you to finish.

“You literally hounded me down for almost years to get married, and only a month after we actually get together you start acting out.”

You stare at him and he knows he can talk now.

“I’m…sorry. I’ll try to be, uh, better.” He finished lamely, and he cringes when he realized how pathetic his apology was.

But much to his surprise, a small little smile forms at your lips. Compared to how he never even acknowledged how big of an ass he usually is, this was a huge step in your relationship with him.

“Yeah, we’ll see. You better be on your best behavior for a while now.” And with that, you turn over and flop down into the plushy comforter.

Dabi let’s put a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the weight on his chest being lifted.

“So, uh…can I still like, touch..you?” He trails off, and you’re glad he can’t see the 50k watt smile on your face when he shifts uncomfortably.

“If you make it up to me, maybe.”

Dabi grins too.

“I don’t think you’ll ever have a problem with that.”