Shigaraki is so pathetic he’s able to cum untouched just from kiss
shared seat (nsfw)
cw: dacryphilia, premature ejaculation, mutual pining, desperation, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, no use of y/n (blank name space instead!!), tomura is a mega computer nerd, reader plays dumb kinda, some light hurt/comfort i guess?? making out, afab/fem reader, implied virgin shiggy :)
naturally.
you have tomura in the palm of your hand. every time you walk by him, brush against him awkwardly, tap his shoulder to get his attention, it sends sparks through his touch-starved limbs and makes him dizzy. every night, he begs and pleads for you to come into his room, even just to sit in there. he wants you in whatever way he can, to see you, smell you, touch you, hear you. gods, of course he wants to taste you, but he's learned the hard way to take whatever he can get.
so when you knock on his door and ask him to teach you how to sort out your PC and mod a few games, his heart lurches in his chest. of course, of course he will. he trudges behind you to your bedroom, watching your ass jiggle lightly in the dingy sweatpants you stole from him a few months back. he takes a deep breath before sitting in your desk chair, immediately clicking through PILES of random trash files and download files.
"_______" he starts sternly, brow already furrowed at the sight. "have you not been deleting the download files after you download a mod?"
you shake your head. "won't that delete the mod?" you lean on your desk next to him, uncomfortably close to him. he smells the conditioner in your hair, your sweet perfume. he tightens his gloved grip on your mouse as he shakes his head and tidies your desktop up.
"fucking idiot" he mumbles as he clears a few gigabytes from the system, "this is why it's so slow, stupid". you giggle and mumble, "ohhhhhh" under your breath.
who's to say you didn't know that. who's to say you just wanted an excuse to have him in your room, huffing at your desk, having his scent fill the room and his frustrations cloud your thoughts. but he didn't have to know that.
he keeps clicking through folders, and you nudge the chair. he turns to face you and you mindlessly sit in his lap, telling him "let me in", spinning the chair back to face the desk.
his breath hitches as your plush ass presses against his dirty pajama pants and half-hardened cock. you watch the pointer on the screen as he sorts through different game files, his breathing unsteady in your ear. you giggle as he groans at the unnecessary folders and shortcuts.
"why...dude, what's with all the sims mods?" he asks, voice filled with genuine concern as he clicks into the mods folder. you panic and spring up, sending the chair back a bit with him still in it. your ass is directly in his face as you scramble, closing the folder.
tomura's eyes widen and he forgets the folder entirely for a moment as your shirt rides up, the small of your back exposed, the waistband of your underwear pulled slightly above the baggy sweats. he starts again and rolls his eyes.
"dipshit, just let me make sure there aren't duplicates, okay?" he pulls you by the waist into him again, your ass falling back onto him. he closes his eyes for a moment to regulate his thoughts.
the mods folder flashes back open. he scrolls through hundreds of mods, your body tensing as he pauses and reads through them all.
"what the hell are you doing to those poor sims" he laughs nervously as his cock grows tighter against you. you grimace as he closes out of it and goes into the save files folder.
he stops when he notices his name front and center, paired with yours.
he nods and stays silent, and you readjust in his lap. your eyes gloss over, unable to confront the clear tension between you two as you shift, his free arm lacing around your waist slowly, holding you tightly as he tries his best to hold back.
he closes out of the tabs and sits on the blank screen for a moment, clearing his throat.
"did...you need me to do anything else here?" he leans forward with you a bit, greedily inhaling your scent again as he awaits a response.
"hm...yeah, can you help me set my new speakers up? they won't connect for some reason." any excuse to keep him here.
"hmph. yeah, sure" he bites his lip and scoots the chair in, opening the program.
"they're plugged in, right?" he asks, and you nod.
"mhm, i'm not that dumb" you playfully lean back, your face all-too-close to his. he rolls his eyes and hums to himself as your weight presses more against him, and he's painfully trying to conceal how hard he is. if you don't stand, maybe you won't notice. he's so fucking close already, he's afraid any small movement will ruin it all.
you lean forward to turn the dial on the speaker and his breath hitches. he twitches in his pants and feels the moisture beading from his tip, hissing lowly to himself as you readjust again.
"jesus, _________. can you figure your shit out" he snips, and you laugh. he groans as he twitches again, dangerously close to finishing right here.
"sorry" your words come out as a whisper as he grips you closer now, his fingers tracing the exposed skin under your shirt as he fiddles around with the settings. you smile as he touches you.
you take it one step too far when you scoot back into him, using his thigh to steady yourself. as you grind into him, he loses control and feels himself cumming sporadically in his fleecy pants. he shakes against you, his head falling into your shoulder as he crumbles underneath you. he nearly crushes your brand new mouse as his hands clench, his uncovered fingers digging into your midriff. he shakes as you feel the moisture seeping from the material, leaking onto the back of your own pants. you don't dare to speak a word, you refuse to ruin it for him.
you go to look at him, but his head is still pressed against your shoulder, his baby blue hair draped over you. his breathing is slowing now, but he's still shaking.
"i'm sorry" he shudders before you can say anything. you grab his hand, still slung across your legs, and squeeze it.
"tomu, it's okay" you comfort him quietly as he continues to shake. you stand and he plants his face into his hands, soft tremors coming from the pale man.
you flip the armrests of the chair up and wrap your legs around him, facing him now. you stroke his hair gently and coax him to look up, his cherry eyes teary and glossed.
you kiss him gently, feeling the tears still running down his cheek. his lips are rough, but they taste like candied apples, and you hold his face in your hands as he falls into the kiss shakily.
as you pull away, he sniffles.
"i'm sorry" he repeats, and looks back down.
you kiss his head, his soft hair tickling your face. he wraps his arms around you and presses his face into you, his tears soaking the front of your shirt. you shush him and brush his hair back. you comfort him best as possible, but feel him hardening underneath you again.
"c'mon" you stand from the seat again, and take his hand. you bring him to the bed, and he sits slowly. you wipe the tears from his cheeks, and he shakes his head.
"why?" he asks quietly, and you kiss his nose, "why aren't you mad at me?".
you tug him into you, kissing him. he moans into the kiss this time, his cock tenting again. your mind swirls with thoughts of him inside of you, making him shiver and cum and whine. why would you be mad at him, your sweet pathetic leader?
no one else would ever see him like this. maybe it played a part in your arousal, knowing that this display was solely for you. that his orgasm was because of you. that he was crying because he was afraid he upset you. your scary, villainous, domineering leader was crying in your room, cock twitching desperately against his minecraft pj pants, because he just came from you sitting in his lap.
the heat between your legs swells as your tongue presses into his mouth, tasting the same sugary sourness from before. his tongue slides forcefully into your mouth, his saliva mixing with yours. he palms aggressively at his erection, trying to push it down nervously before you tug him by his sweater, pulling him on top of you. he instinctively grinds down into you, and as you feel him press against your clothed sex, you moan.
the heavy petting stresses you out. you can't keep kissing him and touching him without feeling him inside of you. tomura's eyes are half-lidded and hungry as you shove him back, and he looks at you nervously for a moment before you pull your pants off, urging him to do the same. he throws the pants off the bed, his cock springing free and tapping against his stomach. the knot in your stomach pulls deeper as you gaze upon the soft sky-blue tuft of hair leading down to his dick, his breathing ragged as you pull yourself on top of him again. you grind down, and he moans as the wetness soaking through your underwear squishes on his admirable length.
he's ready to cum again already, and you can tell from the way he grinds into you from below. you shift your underwear off, awkwardly shimmying as he helps you. he doesn't seem to care as he tugs at the garment, his hands exploring your curves with a greedy grip. as his cock rubs against you, you kiss him, coating him with the slick heat. you help position him against your tight hole, and he thrusts it in, stretching you with a snap. you throw your head back from the sensation and steady yourself for a moment before rocking back and forth, his moans and huffs growing louder. you ride him slowly at first, helping you adjust to his size, and he watches you bounce on him with a feverish daze. he grabs at your shirt and you allow him to bring it up over you, throwing it mindlessly. his hoodie comes off next, yanking haphazardly as you continue to grind and bounce on him. he bites his lip as he cums again, not holding anything back as the sticky seed coats your insides. you don't stop, feeling yourself growing closer. his orgasm brings you even further, and you gyrate your hips against him, his soft hair creating a friction against your clit that is fucking unimaginable. you moan and cry out, chasing the orgasm. you squeeze against him, the searing pain from being stretched before now replaced by a deep craving from the pit of your sex, needing more and more of him to fill you up. his pitiful whining grows in volume as his cock re-hardens inside of you quickly, and his hands grip against your hips and he thrusts from below as you slam down into him, furthering the sensation as his tip nudges your cervix. as you both rock into each other, your climax rushes over you, flooding his cock with a deep heat that sends him over the edge for the third time. tears brim his eyes again as he sprays your cunt with more pearly fluid, and your body shakes as you clench and rub the end of your orgasm out on him. your chest heaves as you both finish, and you fall on top of him with his dick still throbbing inside of you. he whines out and kisses you, tangling his fingers in your hair. the aftershock of your orgasm sends shivers through your body, and you pull yourself off of him. you already miss the feeling of him stuffing you with his cock, but he's spent. he shakes and squeezes his eyes shut, his legs and arms splayed out, vibrating.
you kiss his cheek and reach for something to help him clean up. you grab your shirt and wipe him off, and he frowns.
"didn't have to do that" he chokes out, and you shrug.
"i could never be mad at you, tomura" you say to him as you find clean clothes. as you dress, he drags a blanket over himself.
he nods and doesn't speak again for a moment. you climb in next to him, and he smiles weakly.
"promise?"
you nod. "pinky promise" you lace your fingers with his, the gloves brushing against your soft skin.
the two of you lay together in silence, growing more and more tired with each passing minute. you won't send him back to his room, you'd rather keep him here as long as possible. even if it was left unsaid, you loved him, and you spent every day worrying which day might just be the last. especially with the league growing in infamy, the unknown became scarier every day. but for right now, it felt more than okay. and for right now, you'd rather spend the time with him like this than having to worry about your futures.
"so what's up with that save file on the sims?" his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you groan.
"i think the next thing im gonna ask you how to teach me is hiding folders".
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
thank you for the ask <3 yummy yummy suggestion!!!!!! 🩷🩷🩷
Okay okay, this time its less canon but imagine the lamb opening the bar and narinder take a drink but then is posess(idk how to spell it preperly i'm french sorry). The lamb do his best to find him in dongeon and when he finaly find him punish him from drinking whitch of course frustrate Narinder but hey, he couldn't just let his favorite ex god be posses again and have to kill him !
Sanctuary of Nightmares PT 4
Chapter Selection
Previous Chapter / Next Chapter
Before I start I want to give a quick explanation of some personal headcanons and how I understand some lore that will make it easier to understand how I write some stuff in this story. Stick with me, this should only take a second.
Okay, first off my understanding is that Vanny/Vanessa hacked the coding of the robots to hunt down Gregory right? And I think that the way she did so was targeting him specifically as a threat, not just setting the animatronics to kill mode. Which is why they only seem to attack him throughout the game. They aren't outright hostile, they only see Gregory as a threat.
Secondly I headcanon that Sun is front and center in the daycare as the main animatronic because the first day Sun and Moon were tested they realized that when the lights go off Sun has to tear out his face to become Moon and, rather than remaking their design, they just decide to keep the lights on all the time. It was cheaper than remaking a whole animatronic. They also couldn't just seperate Moon from Sun because Moon's coding was interlaced with Suns.
Also, Moon's coding is where the security mode is. This is why in the game Sun isn't at all a threat to Gregory nor tries to be while Moon immediately sees Gregory as a threat due to the hacked coding.
Anyway! Enjoy the rest of the chapter!
- x -
As the puppet show continued your body began to slowly recognize its exhaustion. The weight of the day's events pulled at you, begging you to rest your tired eyes. Sun didn't notice at first, at least until after your third yawn. It was then that he paused the show, peaking over his built stage to fully realize your sleepiness.
"Tired? Already?! But it's so early in the night! We still have so much to do! I-" he stopped himself, your empty stare letting him know that playtime was over. You could barely keep your head up, let alone continue to play. Eventually the true reality of what came with that hit him.
He didn't deal with sleepy kids. Not once had he ever had to put one to bed or help them sleep, he simply wasn't built for it! That was supposed to be what his counterpart was supposed to do. It was a job taken by the nearby staff during the day
Yet now, as he stared at your exhausted form, a lull began to grow deep within his programming. It always pulled at him, always begged to be let out. In truth, he was terrified of it, of losing control. He didn't ever know what happened when his own hands tore away his consciousness, but he knew it was excruciatingly painful, not to mention horrifying for anyone watching. It had only ever happened a few times and each time he'd come back from that state he'd been left confused and scared.
Like a kid dropped off in the middle of nowhere...
He had always ignored that voice. He ignored its lull to be set free. The only contact he'd ever had with Moon was through what others told him. The staff had said that Moon could be dangerous, that the tearing off of his face could mess with his coding and corrupt the security measures meant to keep Moon and him from harming people. He'd been told countless times to never turn the light off, to keep Moon away at all costs. So that dark terrified him, the thought of becoming something that wasn't himself terrified him.
But that voice, that lulling voice! Staring at a tired child only seemed to worsen it! There was no staff to take you away, no alleviation from the sound. As if each yawn and attempt to keep yourself awake burned a sense of need in him. A need that wasn't his, a need deep in his being. It made his face itch and his fear spike. No no he couldn't! Not now! No! No no no-
"You can't do this on your own" the voice whispered.
The first full sentence he had ever heard it speak...
Why did it sound so soft? Like a comforting echo through his head, a deep yet peaceful noise that seemed to be able to dull even his sense of excitement. It didn't seem angry nor spiteful, its voice not as terrifying nor as creepy as he'd been told. And it's words- it's words! They dug into him, the sentiment something he knew was true. He needed help, he couldn't care for a child on his own.
"Let me help" it asked, the suggestion not one of greed or persistent pleading, but instead a request. Something he had every opportunity to ignore, yet he didn't really want to. The voice had successfully earned his attention, its sound similar to that of a lost friend, a part of himself he didn't know. One he'd come to fear, yet one he'd never met.
Suddenly Sun was pulled from his thoughts with a slight tug on his arm. He quickly looked down, surprised to see it was you. He hadn't even noticed you had gotten up. You stared with tired eyes yet your concern showed through, along with curiosity as you slightly tilted your head. Noticing the question implied in your actions he quickly snapped back to reality.
"O-Oh! Sorry, sorry! I just got lost in thought! Silly me! I-..."
"Please" the voice called with a clearer sound. Sun stared for another moment, your continued tired expression only further itching his mind.
"Fine!" Sun suddenly yelled, causing you to quickly pull away at the sudden outburst. Noticing that he'd startled you he felt a pang of guilt rush through him.
"Sorry! I-I didn't mean uh- to uh- scare! I didn't mean to scare...you! You I didn't mean to scare" he tried to apologize through broken sentences which only managed to further confuse you. Even so, you didn't have time to question it before he sprung up.
"You're tired! I uh, don't really know how to deal with that. But I know someone who does! Just stay here! I'll be right back!" He spoke quickly and with clear nervousness in his tone before he threw himself through a tub to a connected room. You were tempted to follow but quickly remembered he had told you to stay put. So, rather than upset him to satiate your own curiosity, you slowly took a seat on the ground, once again letting a yawn escape you as you did so.
The moment Sun had made it to the other room he could already feel that itching sensation get worse, the voice no longer speaking so much as echoing in sounds he couldn't understand. All he knew now was that he needed to find the least painful turn himself, a way that might not hurt. That's when he was reminded what he did in this roon.
Quickly he fell to the ground, moving some stuff around before finding a screwdriver still right where he left it, next to the arcade machine. It was a flat head screwdriver, one that he'd been using to try to fix said arcade machine that sat to his right. But now he found another use for it as he attempted to loosen the plate of his face. Every second that he waited he felt the itching feeling gnawing at him, especially as it began to burn.
He needed it off now now NOW!
The frantic nature of his movements grew until eventually the slow process was too much to bear as he instead used the screwdriver as a wedge device to pry away his face. However, due to the loosened screws, it came off almost immediately, the searing pain not even lasting long enough for him to scream out in agony.
Slowly Moon felt himself come too, his hands laid out in front of him, his eyes blinking to recognition as he spotted the sun plate of his counterpart. The pain was dulled by the time he took over, the senses of the animatronic body he inhabited coming back to him
It had been so long
It was only after fully recalibrating to his surroundings that the gleam of the nearby lights registered, creating discomfort in his system. Slowly he stood, though he had to cover his eyes to relieve himself of the discomfort.
Why was he here again? He had wanted to help Sun, to be allowed to do something. What had it been? It had felt so important-
A soft sound caught his attention, the unmistakable sound of a little yawn. It all immediately came back to him, the reason why he was set free.
"Hello?" He called. He was met with silence, the quietness and comfort of silence. Though in this case, he would have preferred an answer. He did, however, hear the hesitant steps of little feet as they approached, the sound of them stopping just a little bit further than he would have thought. Carefully he pulled his hands away from his eyes, instead cupping his hands around them to block out as much light as possible while being able to see. Quickly taking in his surroundings he noticed a small tube, one he'd known only to belong in Suns room. He crouched down to look through only to see the face of a child, tired and confused.
"Hello little one" he spoke oh so softly, his voice nearly a whisper. You blinked a few times before taking a step back, afraid of the confusion this interaction brought. Noticing this he was quick to quell this fear. Though calm in the way he did so.
"It's alright. Sun told me you were tired. I'm Moon, I'm here to help you sleep" he explained, not progressing any further in his movements as to not frighten you.
As you stared at the animatronic you were trying to piece together just how it got there and where Sun had gone. You were about to start running when he explained Sun had sent him.
Sun had said he was going to get someone right? Maybe this was who. Maybe there was a door you hadn't noticed over there.
Another yawn broke your thoughts, your continued exhaustion now even worse than it was before. You didn't have the energy to question it anymore, you were just too tired to care. You simply nodded, losing your fear in seconds.
"Could you turn off the lights, little one? They hurt my eyes. Then I can help you sleep" he asked and though you hesitated you simply nodded along, heading over to the light switch before flicking them off, your exhaustion only growing more as the darkness fell over the room.
Even with the lights off though there was still a soft glow from the daycare. It was just barely enough to let you make out your surroundings but dark enough that your eyes had to adjust.
The moment the light was off Moon came into the room, his eyes no longer covered as a soft blue glow came from them. The glow let you know where the animatronic was as he moved around the room, picking up soft blankets and pillows along the way. His movements were a stark contrast to Sun as he moved slower with a more intentional step. He reminded you of a little music box you had seen in your mom's room. He moved predictably and smoothly with a sense of purpose. It immediately quelled every other nerve you had about the bot, his presence seeping with peace.
Once he had collected all of the soft objects he could carry he found the darkest spot in the room and took a seat, covering himself in pillows and blankets as he sat against a wall.
"Come, it's past your bedtime" he beckoned with outstretched hands. His voice held a lulling quality, one that had your feet moving before your mind noticed. Once in reach he carefully picked you up, placing you comfortably in the warmth of the blankets that laid all over him. You laid in his lap, your form so small that it fit perfectly. You made yourself comfortable in the blankets he had covered himself in and only after you did so did he cover you with the remaining blankets.
"Would you like me to hum you a lullaby?" He asked just as your eyes shut, your nodding head letting him know the answer. So softly he hummed, your small form fully relaxing into him as you slowly drifted off into the land of dreams, guided by his soft sound.
This was the first time Moon had ever been allowed to deal with a child. He'd been forced for so long to watch, to be the voice in the back of a mind that was terrified of him. The only times he'd ever been out he'd been stared at with fear. He had only ever hurt anyone in an attempt to stay alive, to not go back to his prison. He only wanted to help.
But he was the thing that scared children, he took the blame as the reason why Sun had to go through pain every time he wanted a chance to exist. He was the broken programming, a glitch forgotten in the mind of another. He was never given a chance by anyone, even the mind that controlled his body...
Until now...
The child that he got to comfort, to lull to sleep. The child that he'd be allowed to care for was now his use for existing. He couldn't have anything else, he was nothing else. This was what he was built for! The reason he was brought into this world! After all this time of being forced into nothingness he was pulled back by the soft yawn of your little form.
He wasn't allowed to have anything...
But he had you
-
Time passed like fleeting seconds to Moon as he observed your sleeping state. Your soft breathing, your peaceful face. Such a small child, so innocent. He'd only been able to see small moments when you were with Sun, his ability to see impaired by Sun's unwillingness to accept that he was there. But he'd seen enough to know of your pain, to know why Sun had brought you here, why he let him see you. He held you a little bit closer at the thought.
He'd never be able to understand it. To understand why, why someone would do that to you, to a child. It had to be on purpose- it had to be! There was too much damage to your small body for it to be a mistake, an accident. The thought infuriated him, it burned a seething hatred through his metal. How- How dare someone hurt you! You were too small, too defenseless, too young!
Noticing his grip growing tighter than it should he immediately loosened, the resentment falling with it.
It didn't matter now. You were here, you were with him. He'd protect you! A-And Sun would too! You weren't ever going to get hurt again, he'd make sure of it! You wouldn't feel any fear, not with him, not with him, not with-
A sound caught his sensors. The moving of a slide before the crash of a ball pit. He was flown into an immediate panic.
Was that the security guard!? She couldn't see him! She'd get suspicious! She'd deactivate him! He couldn't stay hidden either, no. No, she was probably looking for Sun! Oh no oh no oh no-
Thinking quickly he gently removed you from his lap, making absolutely certain that you stayed asleep while doing so. Even so he moved quickly, scampering off into the second room to grab Suns plate left on the ground before rushing back, knowing that Sun couldn't be in the darkness of this room. When he made it to the incline that lead to the podium he swiftly climbed, not even bothering to use the stairs thanks to his insane agility. He had made it to the top when he rusher to place the plate back on, knowing how best to keep it in place even without the screws he'd left behind. He then jumped onto the podium and into the light to not further harm Sun.
When Sun blinked back to life he first felt dread. Where was he?! What had he done?! Where were you!? What had happened!?
He immediately sprung to his feet, confused and uncertain. Looking around he noticed he was on his podium above the play area, his room behind him. Knowing that was the last place you had been he was about to go back inside when the darkness of the room stopped him.
He would only turn back to Moon if he stepped in there.
It was then that he registered the looseness of his face. It was on, but not by much. After noticing that he knew it was the same night because if it had been morning the morning maintenance check would have solved that.
A sound then caught his ear and, turning around, his eyes were immediately met with something he hadn't expected.
A...kid? At this time of night? What? How? When? Why-
It was through his racing mind that a thought stood out.
Vannesa had been talking about that child
He had thought she meant you! That's why he had gotten so paranoid when she spoke about a missing kid. It started to make more sense to him now though. She was looking for a child that had been sneaking around, being in places that they shouldn't. You had been with him the entire evening! You hadn't been sneaking around! Coming to this conclusion didn't help him though as it led to understanding a final fact.
If he told Vanessa he'd found the kid then she'd come searching the play area. And if she did that, she might notice something isn't right with him, especially because of his loose face plate. He knew he was a terrible liar, he knew she was good at seeing through him. Under enough pressure, he'd break. And breaking meant losing you.
And he couldn't afford to do that.
So, quite literally jumping into action, he threw himself off of the podium and into the ball pit, catching the child's attention after they had just left it. Springing from the pit he effortlessly made it out, spotting the child immediately. The boy went to pull away when he quickly grabbed him, almost a sense of panic in his movements.
"Hel-LO. New friend!- You're sure up late!- Are we having a slumber party?! Where are all you're friends!" He spoke with feigned excitement, a skill he's learned over his time being here. He didn't let go of the boy at first, his mind running with panicked thoughts that all culminated around one goal.
Keep attention away from you
- x -
Tag List
@honeycovered-bandaids @lethalbeautiful @kiinokochii @questionableperson @mary-wolf @just-a-frudgin-simp @nothing-leave-me--alone @eafv2323 @fun-k-board @lemonrolls @ch8rrybl0ssoms @crea8ive-traveler91 @porkcracker @carmelchocola @a-rare-female-blaziken @sssleepless @plaguerat44 @zachariethememerie @nothing-leave-me--alone @gundams90cmbobs @sunnshineflxwer @sundropsideup @bri-bris-things @givemesomebeans @isometimeswritestuff @allidde @wheres-the-effing-pie @imuziawi @theasexualpan @kittenlover614 @arialikestea @ayoitshayden
Couldn't tag because of some reason or another -> @yumeko58garcia @miraculousdisappointment
You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19
Chapter 20
“Sorry about the clothes,” Spinner says as the two of you walk down the front steps of the hospital. “Himiko picked them out.”
“It’s fine,” you say. As long as you have clothes that aren’t bloodstained and torn to pieces, you don’t care what you look like. You’re just glad to be headed home.
Nobody exited the near-apocalyptic conjurer fight in good shape, but some of you were worse off than the others. Nemuri was almost blasted apart trying to defeat the giant, and although she survived it, collecting the shreds of her essence back together is apparently a slow process. Keigo took a pretty sizeable hit protecting the kids, while Aizawa had to deal with a beastlike Nomu chewing the hell out of his leg before Hizashi blew its head off. But you and Tomura were by far the worse off. You’ve been in the hospital for two days. Tomura will be in for another three at least.
Most ghosts are healthy when they permanently embody themselves, but apparently it’s different for ghosts who use their own conjurers to do it. Tomura is starvation-level thin, with severe contact allergies to almost every type of medical equipment in the hospital, and the injuries he got from the fight and the rescue from the world between were bad enough to land him in the ICU at least temporarily. They had to put him in an induced coma, too. He’s had meltdowns or panic attacks or some kind of fit every time he’s woken up.
“He’ll bounce back quickly,” Mr. Yagi assured you when he came to visit. “I did.”
That was how you learned that Mr. Yagi embodied himself from his conjurer, too – except she gave him permission to do it, when she realized she was going to die of cancer anyway. Mr. Yagi’s permanent embodiment involves chronic issues with his lungs and his stomach, all of which you’re familiar with after working as his assistant for years. Chronic, but manageable. Sometimes over the past two days, it’s seemed like Tomura’s allergic to the entire human world.
Spinner told you that permanent embodiment creates complications, but you didn’t realize just how severe those complications would be. There’s no legal record of Tomura’s existence. He doesn’t have ID or health records or health insurance. There’s no next of kin who’s empowered to make decisions for him while he’s under heavy sedation, dead to the world. Hizashi’s working overtime to forge some kind of documentation for him. The doctors have been hinting that they won’t release him without it. Legally, you don’t have any right to be involved in or updated on Tomura’s medical condition, but he managed to identify you as somebody important before he went under, which means you get a little more information than you would have gotten otherwise. The doctors have been referring to you as his girlfriend. Apparently he called you his human.
Tomura might not have a next of kin, you do, and the doctors called your parents when you were too doped up on painkillers to stop them. You managed to talk them down from coming to visit, mostly by lying and then promising that they can come visit you soon. The last thing you need is for them to come here right now. Things are too chaotic. It’s hard to think that anything normal will ever happen again.
Like today. Jin and Spinner are picking you up from the hospital and driving you home to a house that, for the first time since it was built, doesn’t have a ghost in it.
When you and Spinner make it down the steps, Jin’s idling the van near the curb with Atsuhiro snoozing in the back row. Jin bursts out laughing at the sight of you, ignoring Spinner hissing at him to shut up. “No wonder Himiko wouldn’t let me see what she picked! Ready to get out of here?”
“Yes.” That’s not quite true, though. The sharp pain in your chest as the hospital vanishes around a curve in the highway tells you that you’d rather have stayed until Tomura could come with you.
You’ve been there, the few times they’ve tried waking him up. He’s promptly freaked out each time, and while your presence settles him a bit, the fact that he’s now in a human body, experiencing the world as a human does, is way more than you can calm him down from. Luckily for you and Tomura, the embodied ghosts stepped in to help. Since last night, there’s been one of them stationed in his room at all times, ready to corral him, ready to explain, so nothing else in his hospital room goes up in dust. Tomura lost a lot of his ghostly powers, but he’s still got more than enough left to raise hell.
You don’t want to leave him there. You want to stay there until he wakes up for good, and not leave until you can bring him home. But your health insurance won’t pay for more than the two nights you already spent in the hospital, and you have a bad feeling about who’s going to be on the hook for Tomura’s hospital bill. You have to go home. You’ll be back to visit tomorrow after work, but tonight you have to go home.
“How did he look?” Spinner asks Jin. Spinner came to get you, while Jin brought Magne for her shift in Tomura’s room. “You saw him, right?”
“He looks like hell.”
“He looks like he’s looked the entire time,” Atsuhiro says sleepily from the back row. Then, to you: “They mentioned removing the feeding tube in two days. His body is burning calories rapidly, and if he doesn’t have enough in reserve, he’ll have a heart attack when he starts moving around.”
“Great,” you mumble. “Did he wake up at all?”
“Not perceptibly to the staff,” Atsuhiro says. Ghost stuff. Again. “I was able to tell him that you were being released today.”
You sort of wish Atsuhiro hadn’t done that. Tomura’s going to think you’re leaving him, and based on the conversation you had the day before things went to hell, he didn’t want to embody himself for anything less than a sure thing. You’re a sure thing. About as sure as it gets, given that you were ready to get sucked into the world between along with him rather than let him go. But he’s not going to know that until the two of you talk. And you can’t talk to him while he’s got a feeding tube down his throat.
When you left the neighborhood three nights ago, you left it in the back of an ambulance, so you didn’t get a good look at everything that happened. Now it’s daylight, and what you see isn’t pretty. A weird fog still hovers over everything. Almost every plant on the block is dead, courtesy of being flash-frozen a dozen times over, and the pavement and asphalt on your end of the street is pitted and ruptured and cracked, courtesy of the giant. Nobody’s house escaped getting knocked around a bit, but you know yours took the largest amount of damage – window smashed, porch roof caved in, fence down, yard chewed to bits – so when you get out of the car and make your way closer for a look, you’re expecting the worst.
What you’re not expecting to see is a new fence, in the process of being painted greyish blue. You’re not expecting to see Himiko and a girl you vaguely remember meeting at her birthday party painting it. And you’re definitely not expecting Izuku to pop out of absolutely nowhere, hands smeared with dirt. “Hey, you’re back! Are you okay?”
He waits long enough for you to confirm you’re not about to keel over, then pivots. “Tell me everything that happened.”
“We already told you what happened,” Spinner says. “Don’t bug her.”
“You did tell me! It was great,” Izuku says. He refocuses on you. “But you spent the most time with the conjurer, didn’t you? And you got away from him! How did you do it?”
It occurs to you, sort of suddenly, that you haven’t told anybody exactly what happened. Everybody’s clear on the important details – kidnapped by conjurer, tortured by conjurer with the intent of Nomufication, escaped, rescued by what Jin inexplicably decided to call the Vanguard Action Squad. Nobody’s asked you more until you right now. And you should probably tell somebody, just to get it on the record. “Um, it was –”
“Izuku! Leave her be,” Inko scolds, stepping out onto your front porch. You should have guessed that at least one of Izuku’s parents would be present, but you’re still surprised to see her. “I’m sorry to startle you. We were hoping to be gone by the time you got back so you’d have a quiet house.”
A quiet house. A house without Tomura in it. “It’s okay. Um – why are you here?”
“We’re helping patch things up,” Izuku says. “I’m filling in the footprints in the yard – Toga says there was a huge Nomu here – like, building-sized –”
“Bigger,” Himiko says. She looks over at the other girl, who looks worried. “I didn’t fight that one. I did lots of other fighting.”
“And Toga and Uraraka are fixing the fence,” Izuku continues. You forgot that Himiko picked out a different last name than Jin’s when she embodied herself. You’re not sure why. “Mom was keeping an eye on the guys who came to fix the window and the roof and Dad and Kacchan are in the backyard clearing out your dead plants! There are a lot of them. Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do it.” You step through the gate, barely avoiding putting your hand in wet paint. “The fence looks really nice, Himiko. You guys didn’t have to do this.”
“The old fence matched Tomura’s new hair. We had to fix it,” Himiko explains. “Now it matches his old hair.”
“He has new hair?” Uraraka asks.
“Yeah, it’s white now. He looks like an anime villain,” Spinner says, and Himiko giggles. “I didn’t know your fence was supposed to match your hair.”
“It’s not. That’s why we’re fixing it.”
“Thank you,” you say to Himiko and her friend. “And – thanks, Izuku. I’ll tell you about all the stuff later.”
He beams at you, then goes back to filling in a massive hole in your yard. You thank Spinner and Jin for the ride home, and Atsuhiro for sitting with Tomura, then make your way into your house. The last time you were here, you could barely walk. You were oozing blood everywhere and you were in agony, but you remember seeing Tomura on the porch and stumbling into his arms and feeling for just a moment like everything would be okay. Everything is okay. But just like Aizawa said of you being turned into a Nomu, this came at a cost – and you weren’t the one to pay.
There are a few bloodstains on the front porch steps. You collect some varnish from your hall closet and come back out to paint them over.
“My dear.” Mr. Yagi’s feet appear in your field of vision and you look up at him. He looks miserable, his mouth trembling. “I’m so sorry.”
You shake your head. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“You were taken from the parking lot. I knew the conjurer could be near. I knew you were in danger. And instead of ensuring your safety I allowed you to –”
“You weren’t responsible for my safety. I was,” you say. You’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped the conjurer. If he hadn’t grabbed you from the parking lot before work, he would have grabbed you when you went outside on your lunch break or when you headed home. “The bracelets you gave me helped me get away from him. I wouldn’t have escaped without them.”
Mr. Yagi looks surprised. “Is that so?”
“When he noticed them, he broke one. It released all this energy and threw him across the room. That’s how I got out. And me and the ghost who helped me escape used the other one to blow up the building we were in.”
“My master must have known he would break them,” Mr. Yagi says. He smiles slightly, sadly. “She was a master tactician. And speaking of her – I suppose it’s no longer relevant, but I brought over the notes Izuku and I took from her journals, if you’d still like to read them.”
“I’d like to.” You’ll need something to do tonight, when you’re here all alone for the first time. “Thank you.”
The two of you sit together on the steps until the varnish dries and the smell of food begins to drift out of the kitchen. You go to investigate and find that Inko’s turned your kitchen into some kind of industrial cooking facility. “This is for tonight,” she says, gesturing to a pot simmering on your stove. “I’ve made things for the next four days also. The list on the counter is a list of common food sensitivities, in case Tomura picked up anything during his embodiment. And if you have any questions about anything, please call me.”
You feel a lump growing in your throat, making it hard to swallow. “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
“You wouldn’t,” Inko says. She smiles at you. “I would have liked someone to talk to, when it was me.”
You nod a few times, manage to thank her. Then you excuse yourself to the bathroom, so she won’t see you struggling not to cry.
You’re not sure why you’re so miserable, why it’s so hard for you to hold it together as everyone heads home for the evening. The only thing that helps even slightly is when Phantom comes home, brought over by Shinsou and Hizashi, who’ve been keeping an eye on her for you. She’s so happy to see you that she leaps a full three feet off the ground and knocks you over, which hurts. You hug her close even though you can tell she’s dying to zoom ecstatically around the house and look up at Shinsou and Hizashi from the floor. “Thanks for looking out for her. I owe you.”
“That’s the closest I’m gonna get to getting a dog until I move out. It’s great,” Shinsou says. Aizawa and Eri are committed cat people, but Shinsou’s said multiple times that he likes both. “So you got out of the hospital. Are you, like – good?”
“Great,” you say. It’s a good thing you and Shinsou aren’t ghosts, because if you were, you wouldn’t have a prayer of getting away with the lie. “It’s nice to be home.”
Hizashi nods impatiently as you pick yourself up off the ground and Phantom goes tearing off to inspect the house, Shinsou in hot pursuit. He has a folder tucked under one arm, and he holds it out to you. “Here. ID and birth certificate for him. I’m working on the rest.”
The ID is right on top, complete with a photo. “How’d you get a photo of him?”
“Took it in the hospital. Fixing the background and photoshopping his eyes open was a bitch.” Hizashi looks pretty proud of himself anyway. “I made him the same age as you. He looks it at least. The birthday is an approximation of his summoning date. I couldn’t use his embodiment date. I didn’t want the doctors asking too many questions about how he had the worst birthday ever.”
“Thanks.” You inspect everything a little closer, then nearly drop the folder in shock. “Shigaraki Tomura? You gave him his conjurer’s last name?”
“I couldn’t think of anything else,” Hizashi says. “It flows pretty nicely, right?”
You guess it does, except for the part where you’re going to think of the conjurer every time you use Tomura’s new full name. “Thank you,” you say again, uselessly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t helped.”
Hizashi looks as uncomfortable being thanked by you as you are doing the thanking. “Don’t worry about it. His shit’s a lot easier to forge than the Nomus’.”
Shinsou and Hizashi stick around for a little longer, checking out the repairs and marveling at all the food Inko cooked, then head home. You shut and lock the door behind them, and all at once you’re home alone. Just you and Phantom, like you thought it would be when you bought this place. Phantom is wandering from room to room, greeting you when she passes by but very much looking for something. Looking for Tomura.
“He’ll be home soon,” you promise her. She knows who you’re talking about. She whines. “I miss him, too.”
You feel aimless, and you feel sick. You should probably eat something. You fill a bowl from the pot Inko left on the stove and settle in on the couch to pick at it, staring at nothing if you’re not looking into the bowl itself. It tastes good, but you’ve got no desire to eat it. You eat it anyway. If you’re going to be miserable no matter what, you might as well do it on a full stomach.
Part of you thinks it’s normal to feel wrecked after everything that’s happened. You were kidnapped and tortured. You watched your ghost die in front of you nineteen times. You almost got force-fed a ghost and almost turned into a Nomu and almost watched your house be destroyed and almost killed somebody and almost lost your ghost to the world between. Only a crazy person wouldn’t be upset. But at the same time, it’s a whole lot of almost. It could have been so much worse. It almost was. What is there for you to be upset about?
Your phone rings and you pick it up just for somebody to talk to. It’s your mom. “When I called the hospital they said you’d been discharged today. Why didn’t you call?”
“It’s been a lot. I just got home.” It’s probably not good that your default is to lie to her. “Everything’s fine.”
“Everything isn’t,” your mom says severely. “I raised you. I know you. Even over the phone, I know that tone in your voice.”
“How do you know me, Mom? We barely talk. We barely talked even when I was a kid.” You shouldn’t say this. Now’s not the right time to say this, but you’ve started, and you can’t stop yourself. “Everything’s not fine, and I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you. Not with anybody! The only person I want to talk to about it is Tomura, and he’s –”
In the hospital, in an induced coma, with a feeding tube down his throat that they won’t remove for two more days. Your own throat closes up, and your mom is silent on her end of the line. You brace yourself for her to blow up at you, to talk about how you never let her in, how the distance between the two of you is your fault. Instead: “You must be really worried about Tomura,” she says. “How is he doing?”
“He’s – they think he’ll be out in three days,” you say haltingly. “It’s – it’s worse for him than it was for me. I was healthier to start with. But they said he’ll be home in three days.”
“Are you going to visit him tomorrow?”
“I want to,” you say. “I have to go back to work, too. My boss said he’d give me as much time as I need, but I need to save it for when Tomura’s home.”
“When he’s home,” your mother repeats. “You live together?”
Oops. “Yeah. For a while now.”
“So it’s serious.”
“As serious as it gets,” you say. For a moment you’re overwhelmed by the memory of clinging to his hand as the world between dragged him in, refusing to let go even if it meant you’d be pulled in, too. “I’m – this is it for me, Mom. He’s it. I’m not leaving him.”
“I would never ask you to leave him,” your mom says, surprised. You shouldn’t have said that, should have known that the weight behind it wouldn’t make sense to her. “I’m looking forward to meeting him, once the two of you have recovered from all of this. You still haven’t told me what happened.”
You haven’t told anyone. “It’s hard to explain,” you say. Your phone begins to beep again, signaling an incoming call, and your stomach lurches when you see Magne’s caller ID. “I’m getting a call from the hospital. I have to go. Sorry –”
“Go,” your mom says immediately. “I’ll call back later. I love you.”
You manage to mumble that you love her too, then end the call and accept Magne’s. “What’s happening? Is he okay?”
You hear Magne speaking to someone else, but you can’t hear what she’s saying, and then her voice is there again, right in your ear. “Tomura’s awake,” she says. “They’re trying to sedate him again, but he’s a little upset. You can imagine.”
You can imagine. “Can I talk to him?”
“That’s why I called you, honey.” Magne puts you on speaker, and you hear her voice from a distance. “You’re right by his ear. Go ahead.”
“Tomura,” you say, and you hear a strangled sound. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. Nobody there wants to hurt you. They’re just trying to help.”
You imagine him arguing that it hurts anyway. Probably also that it’s not helping, and he still feels like hell. “The sooner you get through this, the sooner you can come home,” you tell him. “That’s where I am right now. Me and Phantom are waiting for you. We’ll be here when you get back. Three days, right?”
“Right,” a doctor confirms from somewhere in the offing. “The wounds are healing well. The nutritional deficiencies are the main concern now.”
“You’ll be home soon,” you promise. “I’ll come visit you tomorrow.”
He’d be protesting if he could talk. Probably saying that he’ll be asleep tomorrow if he lets them sedate him again. “I’ll be there,” you say. “You’re fun to hang out with even when you’re asleep.”
You wonder if he’ll hear what you’re calling back to – all those months ago, when you were trying to keep him out of your bedroom at night. “I love you. I’ll be there tomorrow. Tomura –”
“He’s out,” Magne tells you. She laughs quietly. “We all knew you had him wrapped around your finger, but it’s really something to see in action.”
You close your eyes. “Thanks for sitting with him. It would be harder if you weren’t.”
Magne says something about how it’s not a problem, even though it is, and you thank her again and hang up the phone. You wish you were there with Tomura in the hospital. Even if you can’t talk to him, you can hold his hand. You could get used to the warmth of his skin and the new rhythm of his pulse and the sight of his white hair, before he comes home to you for good. You finish your soup and lift Phantom into your lap. She was with you at the start of all this, before all of this. She’s the only thing right now that feels like home. She lets you hug her and licks your face a few times, and for some stupid reason, that’s when you start to cry.
Cause he makes me so insatiabley horny
Warning: nsfw obviously
This is the horniest fucker to ever exist, but he is a virgin until you
like it's bad, he's watched so much porn , he genuinely had an addiction
so when you two start getting sexual, expect a couple things
1. he doesn't last very long. however, he does regain his stamina pretty quickly so you can get back at it pretty soon.
2. he has no experience, so he's gonna try and use the weird porn he's watched as a basis - which he realizes very soon does not work
so after a few times of him kinda embarrassing himself, he goes full 180 and becomes a nervous mess
so for a while, you'll have to be in control. maybe not physically unless you want to be, but you'll have to guide him and very much show him exactly what he's supposed to do
consider: he loves you. yes he's a horny fuck, but he's also scared of people coming close to him, he's scared of vulnerability, and this feels very vulnerable. so he trusts you, and he cares about you more than anything. he really wouldn't have sex with someone unless he genuinely cared about them
meaning: he wants to make you happy. he wants you to think he's doing a good job and for you to feel fucking amazing
so he takes everything you say very seriously, and once he gets more comfortable your sex life gets amazingly better
because beyond what youve told him you like, he pays attention to all the little noises and faces and body reactions so he knows what you like exactly and he takes advantage of that in every way
he slowly becomes more and more dominant, if you're dominant you'll probably fight for it often, but if you're submissive he happily takes control
he doesn't like not being in control, but he allowed it because he knew that it'd benefit the both of you, so now he wants to be completely in control to make up for it
his favorite position is probably doggy, but in front of a mirror. Tomura loves ass, he loves seeing your ass and being able to grab at it and spank it (and maybe play with the hole if he's not already in that one) but he also loves to see your face, to see you fall apart as he fucks you, so he'll grab your hair and force you to watch yourself in the mirror
he spends most of his time around the league, which means you do too. you're basically attached to his hip at all times, and tomura likes to show you off. which also means he loves making you scream his name all night so everyone knows what's going on
he'd also be very tempted to fuck you in front of everyone - it probably stems from being told he's ugly and scary looking his whole life but he's fucking someone as hot as you so he has to rub it in everyone's faces
during a meeting, where you know he has a little makeshift throne, he's definitely had his cock buried in you while you sit on his lap, squirming around trying to get any stimulation you can, him lazily thrusting into you every now and then
his ability to regain stamina quick only gets worse once he goes through his whole buff transformation, you're getting railed for literal hours
he loves overstimulating you, he wants you to beg to cum and tell him it's too much and that you're gonna die if he doesnt stop, but keep letting him fuck you
at first, the thought of toys made him kinda insecure, but after impulsively buying you a dildo he loves it. whether it's shoving it in both of your holes, or him fucking your mouth while you fuck yourself with it, he thinks it's so hot
his wallpaper is definitely a nude
he likes superiority kinks, probably not daddy, but being called Master, or Sir, he gets so hard
his dick is long too, like 8 inches, but it's a little thin. he has scrawny man dick syndrome. it does get a little thicker when he gets buffer though
hes a sadist, so he'll put you through as much pain and humiliation as you can handle. he'll spank your ass red, yank your hair so hard you think he'll rip it out, bite you till you bleed, hell he'll even pull your panties over your head while he fucks you just to humiliate you (side note- he definitely has a wedgie kink)
if you're more vanilla (no shame), then he'll respect that. again, he loves you and it's more so about you, so he'd keep his fantasies to himself.
how about some catnips? or nice treats.
The cat sniffed the catnips you put on the floor and then… oh no - what have you done?
At least it seems less stressed… for now.
When he knows you dont like to be carried, but he does it anyway. So you hang on, like you're about to fall. LOL
Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
Chapter 12
Saintess.
You look down at Kazuo’s one-word text, your stomach twisting. You’ve got no idea where he got that name, or what question he was ordered to ask that led him to it. You text back. Is that even a real word?
The question was whether the League of Villains has allies beyond those who were present at Kamino. Kazuo texts back slowly. Too slowly. The typing bubble seems to hover forever. I was unable to give them any more information about the villain known as Saintess.
Kazuo’s careful with his words. If he framed the question that way, then your name would be excluded – even though you pal around with villains, even though you’re the girlfriend of the League’s ringleader, you haven’t committed a crime. The word ‘villain’ wouldn’t apply to you, which means you’re safe. Thank you.
We need to talk in person. Tonight.
Why?
I’ll meet you after work.
Meeting you after work means he’s coming to your workplace, after work. Whatever this is, it’s important. And it’s going to clash with one of your other plans, which is also important – and a lot harder to get out of. You hate yourself as you ask the question. How long will it take?
As long as it needs to. Kazuo doesn’t really get irritated anymore, but you can remember what it used to feel like when you pissed him off. Do you have somewhere to be?
You do, actually. Tenko is supposed to negotiate with Overhaul tonight, and he wants you to be there with him. Overhaul wants you there, too – when you listened in on the phone call, you heard him mention “the one in grey” specifically. What is this about?
The Shie Hassaikai.
Shit. Hold on.
You turn to nudge Tenko awake and find him watching you through half-lidded eyes. He doesn’t sleep much, but when he does, he sleeps like a log. He barely stirred when your alarm went off. “Who are you talking to?”
“My friend Kazuo.” You brace yourself. “I can’t go with you to meet Overhaul. I have to meet him instead.”
Tenko doesn’t look happy, and he’s still half-asleep. It’s going to get worse. “You have to go with me. He asked for you specifically. If you don’t go, he’ll suspect something.”
“Tell him we can’t tonight,” you say. “Even if we’re supposed to be allies, we shouldn’t jump just because he says so. That looks suspicious, too.”
“Maybe.” Tenko looks like he’s considering it for a second. Then he shakes his head. “Tell your friend you can’t.”
“I can’t do that. I have to meet him.”
Tenko’s eyes narrow. “Why?”
“He has a quirk called Search Engine. He works for the HPSC gathering intel.” You try to figure out a good way to phrase it, then realize there isn’t one. “He knows about you and me.”
“And he’s a hero?”
“Not exactly.” You wonder if there’s anything else Tenko needs to know. “It’s not relevant, but I dated him in high school.”
“What?” Tenko looks like he’s going to blow a fuse. You’re pretty sure the structural integrity of everything he’s touching is in danger at the moment, regardless of the gloves. “He’s blackmailing you. That’s why you have to go. I’ll kill him.”
“He’s not blackmailing me.” You can’t let Tenko meet Kazuo. You can’t let anything happen to your old friends because of your new ones. “He’s been telling me how to stay clear of his searches. This morning he texted me to let me know that my code name popped up, but nothing else.”
“He’s a hero, but he’s helping you,” Tenko repeats. His expression darkens. “He likes you. That’s why. Do you like him?”
“He’s my friend,” you say, exasperated. “Half the reason I dated him because he reminded me of you.”
Tenko coughs. “What?”
You decide to pretend you didn’t say that. You unlock your phone and show Tenko the conversation in question. “He has information about Overhaul. We need that. Before we meet him?”
“Why would he know you needed information about Overhaul? What does his quirk do?”
“Search Engine – it lets him find the answer to any question he asks,” you say. Tenko looks – well, you’re not sure how to classify that expression. Somewhere between skeptical, pissed, and panicked. Whatever it is, it’s uncomfortable. “The problem is that it’s hard to come up with a query that excludes every answer except the one you’re looking for. And all that information comes in at the same time, so it’s hard to sort through. He –”
You trail off, trying to figure out how to explain. “He went to UA, but they pushed him too hard. His mind broke down and he dropped out, but the HPSC conscripted him to help find you. And since I’m with you, and I’m his friend, he’s helping me avoid getting caught.”
“Which means helping me, too.” Tenko looks really skeptical now. “I don’t buy it. No hero would help you if it meant helping me at the same time.”
“He’s not a hero,” you say. “The heroic system ruined his life.”
That seems to land a little better with Tenko than your previous explanations. He hands your phone back to you. “So he knows something about the Hassaikai that he wants to tell you,” he says. You nod. “And the stuff he’s told you before has been useful.”
You nod again. “Then I’ll tell Overhaul to shove it,” Tenko decides. A smirk crosses his faith at the thought. “We’ll meet him tomorrow instead. He’s not the only ally we’re considering. He can wait his fucking turn.”
You text Kazuo back, confirming the meetup while Tenko reads over your shoulder. At first he’s just looking. Then his chin notches against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist. He’s wearing the gloves he went to bed in, and you let him rustle around for a few moments, getting so close he’s practically glued to your back. That’s going to be a problem in a few minutes. You have to go to work. But at the same time, you aren’t ready to go just yet. Lately you only feel normal when you’re with him.
“That guy,” Tenko says after a minute or so. “Did you really date him because he reminded you of me?”
“I was always going to be friends with him, but he made me think of you, and that’s part of why I dated him.” It’s embarrassing to admit this. You don’t like thinking about how much of your life has been marked by losing Tenko. “He was what I imagined you’d be like. If nothing had changed.”
You hadn’t realized that there was something else to it at first. Kazuo was brilliant, and he was funny, and he was kind. Half the girls in your class had a crush on him, but he wound up with you, because you made sure you were there. If there was something he needed, you had it. If he needed a partner for an assignment, you were right there, on top of everything, ready to pitch in and make sure his ideas shone. If he wanted to talk, you dropped everything to listen. You weren’t playing a part; more auditioning for one. The job of Kazuo’s sidekick, in theory. In practice, his girlfriend.
He was your second boyfriend. Your first one was an asshole who cheated on you with Mitsuko, who dropped him when she found out and made you drop him, too. That was how the two of you met, and you’re still amazed that the two of you are friends rather than mortal enemies. Kazuo was different than that, almost perfect, a version of Tenko all grown up, without the scratching and the father who shouted and a heroic quirk. You know he loved you, and you were close even after the two of you broke up, until UA pushed his quirk past its limit. And you loved him, too, in a way that was probably healthier than the way you – feel – for Tenko. Like Kazuo said, all those months ago: He never tried to kill you. And you’d never step in front of a bullet for him.
“What I would have been like,” Tenko repeats. “You must have been disappointed when you saw how I turned out.”
You elbow him lightly. “What part of me chasing you down the street said ‘I’m disappointed’? Don’t be dumb.”
“Don’t fall in love with any more heroes, then.” Tenko lifts your phone out of your hands, drops it somewhere in the blankets on the bed, and pulls you back down with him. “I already locked it down.”
He’s kissing you, one of his hands flirting with the edge of your shirt, slipping beneath it. You touch the screen of your phone and wince when you see what time it is. “I have to go.”
“It won’t take long.” Tenko’s hand slides all the way under your shirt. “I know what you like now. I’ll be fast.”
He’s probably underestimating how much time it takes for you to get fully turned on, but then again, it feels different with him. And it’s not something you want to get into before work. “I bet I can be faster.”
“Huh? You can after I –”
You twist out of Tenko’s arms and push him onto his back. He was already half-hard when he was holding you. By the time you disappear under the blankets, there’s a noticeable tent in his sweatpants. You haven’t asked if he’s okay with this, but when you catch the waistband of his pants, he lifts his hips to let you pull them down. His voice is raspy when he says your name, and before you can ask for his consent more directly, his legs shift apart, making more room for you between them. That strikes you as an invitation. You get settled a little more comfortably, although you’re not expecting to stay here for long, before you lean in to drag your tongue across the tip of his cock.
Tenko’s hips jerk. “Hold still,” you say. “Or I stop.”
“Why do I have to hold still?” Tenko freezes anyway, and you almost laugh. “It’s not fair.”
“I said I was going to be fast. I need your help. You can help by holding still.”
“So you’ll stop if I don’t.”
“Let me think.” While you’re thinking, you lick the tip of his cock again, and this time, Tenko stays still. You reward him with a kiss, and slowly open your mouth, tasting him for a long moment before pulling away to speak. “I guess if you don’t hold still, I’ll have to hold you down.”
His hips jerk again. You feel the muscles in his thighs go tense. Is that an idea he likes? You were just being playful, flirty, but suddenly your head is full of the idea of pinning Tenko’s hips to the bed and teasing him until he can’t take it any longer. You don’t get the sense that it would take very long, so you carefully shift your weight, to the tune of a sharp intake of breath from the head of the bed. Suddenly the sheet shifts back, and you glance up to find Tenko propped up on his elbows and staring down at you with glassy eyes. He wants to watch you suck his cock. That’s fine with you.
Unlike the first time you touched him, Tenko keeps his hands to himself. They’re curled into fists at his sides – no, grasping at the sheets – no, grabbing a fistful of his pillow and holding on tight. You keep your attention focused on the tip of his cock, since you’re not confident in your ability to suppress your own gag reflex, and you really don’t want to ruin Tenko’s first blowjob ever. But you’re not going to say it isn’t tempting. Every time you glance upwards, he’s a little more undone.
You’re just considering whether it’s worth a shot when Tenko’s mouth opens and a plea spills out. “I need it. I need you.”
He needs you. You wonder if something so simply can really be the magic words, the thing that takes you from unsure to dead certain, but you’re already taking him further into your mouth, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock as you breathe through your nose. Tenko shudders, gasps so sharply that could almost be a whine. You struggle to think of a way to signal your approval and finally settle on running your thumb over the exposed crest of his hip. You had one hand free when you started; now you have two, because you’ve taken his cock so far into your mouth that there’s no room left for your hand.
With Tenko’s hips held down, there’s no risk that he’ll thrust and trigger your gag reflex. You draw back partially, then sink down again, far enough that the tip of your nose brushes the coarse dark hair at his groin. The thought crosses your mind of how disastrous it would be to sneeze right now, and shortly afterward, you discover how difficult it is to laugh with a cock in your mouth. Your throat convulses as you struggle to hold it back, and Tenko moans, so loud and desperate that your face flushes and head floods through you.
You’re not laughing anymore. You draw back and sink down again and again, trying to keep the motion as smooth and effortless as possible, and Tenko’s body seizes beneath you. His back arches, and he stammers out something like a warning. It’s late. You’re not a fan of the way cum tastes – you haven’t met anyone who is except Yoshimi, and you think she’s probably lying about that – but you find that you don’t mind so much when it’s Tenko’s. There are a lot of things you don’t mind so much when it’s him.
You pull away once he begins to go soft, then duck back in to kiss the spot on his hip you were running your thumb over. He doesn’t make any move to pull his sweatpants back up, so you do it for him, and you take the opportunity to look him over. You thought he was just worn out. Now you think he might be passed out. “Are you okay?”
One hand catches you by the front of your pajama shirt and yanks you down for a kiss. You try to hit the brakes – kissing after a blowjob is iffy, and you’re not sure if Tenko knows that – but he won’t let you, and your lips crash together hard. He speaks without letting you pull away. “You just sucked my soul out through my dick. Of course I’m okay.”
“I think those two statements contradict each other.”
“I don’t care.” Tenko’s other hand comes up, landing half on your hip, half on your ass. “My turn now.”
“No.” You pull away and scramble out of bed. “Maybe later. I have to go to work.”
“Maybe later?” Tenko looks affronted, or he would if he wasn’t struggling to keep his eyes open. “What? Do you think I’d be bad at it?”
“I don’t think that. I just have to go to work. And you need to go back to sleep.” You’re pretty sure his soul’s still attached, but you definitely sapped most of his energy. Not enough to stop him from pouting, though. “Definitely later. Is that better?”
“No.” Tenko yawns. “But I’ll take it.”
He lets you go, already half-asleep as you pull your hand free, and you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth, noting an odd spring in your step. You haven’t felt this good waking up in a while. Maybe you should start the day like this more often.
Nobody else is awake when you head out to the living room and kitchen, which isn’t a surprise. Compress has been sleeping a lot, which is good – an injury like his requires extra rest. Twice goes to bed early, like an old man, according to one of his two personalities. Toga stayed up late. So did Spinner, and so did Dabi. Dabi’s the only one who stirs when you start picking through the kitchen for breakfast. “If you’re gonna fuck him before seven am, tape his mouth shut first.”
Half of you cringes at the thought that Tenko was audible from the living room. The other half, though – “Nobody made you listen.”
“Kinky. Maybe we should change your code name, Saintess.”
“If you think that’s kinky, you really need to educate yourself.”
You probably would have thought not caring if someone was eavesdropping was kinky back in the day, but then you met Mitsuko. She and Dabi would probably hate each other. Then again, Mitsuko’s not above a bout of hatefucking. Maybe that would be good for her. Speaking from personal experience, there’s nothing like getting intimate with a villain to exorcise some of your hatred of heroes.
It doesn’t matter, because there’s no way you’re introducing your friends to the League. The fact that Kazuo knows is bad enough. You make tea, pick through the kitchen for something to eat on the walk to work, and put on your shoes. It occurs to you that you should probably say something Dabi, because he’s awake, but you can’t figure out what it should be. “Um, have a good day.”
His response comes back dripping with condescension. “You have a good day too, Saintess.”
You lock the door, struggling to suppress an eyeroll. He’ll probably give Tenko a hard time once Tenko wakes up, but hopefully the blowjob high will insulate Tenko from caring about it too much. That’s not the only thing you’re hoping it’ll insulate Tenko from. At some point today he’s going to remember that you’re meeting up with your hero-adjacent ex-boyfriend after work, and the less time he spends thinking about that, the better.
You’re worried work will drag, but it speeds past, keeping you busy enough that you don’t worry too much about the fact that the League is still holed up in your apartment. Kurogiri’s looking for another potential hideout, but you don’t get the sense that any of them are in a particular hurry to leave. After all, your place is a guaranteed roof over their heads, a source of running water, a source of internet access, and a semi-comfortable place to sleep, more comfortable now that you’ve invested in an air mattress that sleeps two. You wouldn’t want to leave, if you were them.
You’re not sure you want them to, either. When you’re with them, you don’t have to lie to anybody about what you’re doing. When you’re with them, you’re not worried about being found out. When you’re with them, you’re with Tenko, and you – like him. You like him so much that you stepped in front of a bullet for him and gave him head with absolutely zero prompting. You’re not sure which of those is more out of character for you.
Your last patient of the day has a weird injury, weird in that even when you rack your brain, you can’t think what could have possibly caused it. It seems like his hand’s been degloved completely, then flipped inside out, with veins and muscles and layers of fat on the surface and skin enfolding his bones. “This was a quirk,” you say, once you’ve clenched your jaw and concealed the surprise. The patient nods. “What happened?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s not our policy to ask questions like that,” you say. The patient shrugs. He’s not the most talkative, which is fine. You get his permission and take some pictures, getting as many views of it as you can, before you render a potential treatment plan. “I’m going to call a doctor to look at this, but based on what I’m seeing, this is a hospital matter. We’ll most likely prescribe you some painkillers for the trip and wrap this up to prevent any more exposure to bacteria. Do you have any questions?”
“Are you sure you can’t fix it here?” The patient’s expression says he doesn’t want anything to do with the hospital, which isn’t a surprise, but you’re fairly sure the doctor will be able to talk him into it. “They fixed whatever’s wrong with your hand, right?”
You glance at your bandaged hand, surprised. You’re still covering the scratches Tenko left, just because the scabs keep cracking. “That’s different. Mine are superficial. Yours is – just sit tight. I’ll grab the doctor and she can explain.”
The doctor on call is on break, and not happy to be interrupted. “Sorry,” you say. “The patient in Exam 3 – his hand’s turned inside out. He doesn’t want to go to the hospital, but –”
“What do you mean, turned inside out?”
“I mean, the muscles and blood vessels are on the outside,” you say. The doctor’s eyes widen. “He might need emergency surgery to keep the hand, and it’s probably infected already. I can’t talk him into going to the hospital. I’m just a nurse. Maybe if you explain –”
The doctor sets her bento aside and gets to her feet. “Did he say how it happened?”
“It was a quirk,” you say. “I took photos already. I’ll add them to our database while you talk to him.”
“Name, age, quirk.”
“He didn’t give a name. Early thirties. Quirk – I don’t know what it’s called, but his hair looks like arrows.” Sometimes quirks are easy for you to guess. Sometimes not. “He’s a little guarded, but he came here for help. That counts for something, right?”
The doctor nods. “Upload the photos. I’ll go talk to him.”
You added the photos to the clinic’s shared drive already, and you steal the doctor’s chair to upload them to the database that covers all the clinics in the network. Keeping a database of quirk-related injuries helps identify trends, develop treatment protocols, and tailor supply and personnel distribution. If a lot of burn injuries are showing up at a particular clinic, it’s helpful to be able to supply that clinic properly. But you’ve never seen an injury like this before, and when you add the photos to the ‘open wounds’ folder in the database, you realize that no one else has, either. There’s nothing even remotely close. What kind of quirk could do this?
You’re puzzling over it, wondering if it’s worth querying public records over, when you hear a door open and shut down the hallway. At first you think it’s the doctor coming back. Then you hear the exit door at the far end of the hallway open and shut, too, and thirty seconds later, you realize that something’s wrong.
You race down the hall, skidding into Exam 3, and find the doctor sprawled out on the ground, conscious and aware and bleeding from a superficial scrape in her upper arm – but not moving. “What happened?”
She tries to answer you, but she’s speaking with agonizing slowness, almost completely unintelligible even when you try to read her lips. You hurry forward, checking her respiration and heart rate, horrified to find at least thirty seconds passing between each beat of her heart. What is this? How is she still alive? The first answer is clear: A quirk. Your patient’s quirk, which you didn’t ask about, because it’s policy not to ask. The second answer’s in doubt, and although it’s never happened while you’ve been on shift in three and a half years of working at the clinic, you know what protocol mandates when a staff member is attacked.
You press the panic button taped to the underside of the desk – why didn’t the doctor go for it? – triggering a clinic-wide alert and placing an automatic call to the emergency line. Then you turn your attention back to the doctor, the doctor you sent in here alone, checking for pupil movement, for pallor, for anything to tell you whether you need to call a code along with the alert.
Emergency services get there before law enforcement’s even left the station, and because you had contact with the attacker, too, you’re sent along in the ambulance to Yokohama General. You spend the entire way there trying to stay out of the EMTs’ way and trying to apologize to the doctor before letting this happen, until one of the EMTs tells you to can it. “If you’d known, you wouldn’t have sent anyone, but you didn’t. Put the blame where it belongs.”
That’s hard to do. Lately you’ve been so used to placing the blame on yourself that it’s turning into your default position, but this time, it really isn’t your fault. You never would have sent the doctor to check on the patient if there’d been any indication that he was dangerous. You didn’t know. That’s all.
At Yokohama General, the doctor’s whisked up to intensive care, while you’re held back in the emergency room. You’re not sure what they’re looking for – you touched the patient while you were unwrapping the bandage he’d tied around the wound, and nothing happened to you – but you hang out in an exam room anyway, with nothing to do but nap behind a curtain and text Kazuo. Might be late. Somebody attacked a doctor at work and I’m at the hospital.
“I know.”
You nearly jump out of your skin. The curtain peels back and reveals Kazuo standing there, wearing a pair of glasses and a suit jacket over his usual white shirt and slacks. The man standing next to him is wearing a suit and a pair of glasses, too – but his suit is grey, and his hair is green with streaks of yellow, and –
Sir Nighteye. You shrink back in horror, and the third member of the trio, a blue-skinned woman with a mask over her face, pipes up in a hurry. “Don’t worry, we’re here to help! Sir is very friendly! He loves to laugh!”
Sir Nighteye glances briefly at you, then looks to Kazuo. “Is this your friend?”
“I would give her space,” Kazuo says. “She was attacked on her way home last year, and was a first responder to the incident at Kamino Ward. Therapy for these traumatic experiences has not progressed as far as those who care for her might have hoped.”
You give Kazuo a dirty look, which he ignores. “I see,” Sir Nighteye says, and takes a notable step back. “I understand you had contact with the individual who attacked your coworker.”
“Yes. I examined him.” You wonder how Nighteye’s quirk works. How long it works for, and if he uses on you, how far ahead in your life he’ll be able to see. “If I had known what he was going to do –”
“That wouldn’t have been possible,” Nighteye interrupts. Maybe it’s eye contact. You bow your head. “Describe the injury to me.”
“Um –” The word that comes to mind is ‘horrific’, but after what you’ve seen over the last few months, your bar for horrific is pretty high. “It looked like his hand had been turned inside out. Skin on the inside, veins on the outside.”
“I see. Did it appear to be clean?”
“What?”
“The separation of the skin on his hand from his wrist,” Sir Nighteye says, impatient. “Was it jagged or clean?”
“Oh.” You think of the photos you took. “Jagged.”
“But the skin was otherwise intact?”
“Yes.”
“I see,” Nighteye says again. What does he see? You need to know. You need to know if you can go home tonight, or if you have to stay as far away from Tenko and the others as possible to keep them safe. “You’ve been working there for three and a half years. Have you seen an injury of that type before?”
“No,” you say. “Not in our database, either. He said it was caused by a quirk, but our protocols don’t allow us to ask more than that.”
“Kiyohara.” Nighteye doesn’t say more than Kazuo’s family name, but it’s clear what he wants. “Now.”
Kazuo’s hesitating, and you know why. “That question is too broad,” you say to Nighteye. Nighteye pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, eyebrows raised. “It has to be more specific, or the information influx will risk overloading his brain. Since you don’t care about his health, maybe you’ll care about the fact that he won’t be useful at all after a grand mal seizure.”
You haven’t blown up on a hero, ever. Suddenly you get why Mitsuko’s been doing it. It feels good, and Nighteye, unlike the sidekicks, doesn’t rise to the bait. “Is that so?” he asks Kazuo. Kazuo nods. “We’ll secure as much information as possible before you make the query. As of now, you’re off-duty. And you’re free to go.”
That last is to you, but a warning look from Kazuo keeps you seated on the bed until Nighteye and his sidekick are gone. You open your mouth and he holds up his hand. It pisses you off. “Don’t shush me. What was that about?”
“Not here. Outside.”
You grit your teeth and follow Kazuo out through the emergency room and onto the street. It’s dark, and with autumn well on its way, the wind whipping between the buildings is cold. You follow Kazuo for two blocks, then into a park, before he stops walking and turns to face you. “You shouldn’t have spoken up. I told you – you can’t save both of us.”
“So I was supposed to just sit there while he made you overload your quirk?” You’re already out of patience. “No. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”
“The Nighteye agency is investigating the Shie Hassaikai,” Kazuo says. Your jaw drops. “They’ve enlisted the help of dozens of unaffiliated heroes. It’s the largest operation any hero has conducted since Kamino, and it will be far better planned than Kamino was. Sir Nighteye won’t act until he’s certain of victory.”
“Why are they investigating the Hassaikai?” you choke out. “Is it because of –”
“Your friend’s involvement is tangential. They aren’t after him this time.” Kazuo’s hand rises to his temple, and you catch it, pull it back down. You spend a lot of time dragging your friends’ hands away before they can hurt themselves. “Nighteye has been pursuing the Hassaikai since before Kamino. Their investigation is related to the distribution of Trigger. You’re familiar?”
You nod. A solid thirty percent of your patients who show up in costume are showing up after experiencing the adverse effects of Trigger. The compound boosts quirk activation at the cost of everything else, and it’s one of those things you’ll never understand about people with quirks – that constant desire for more of it, more power, more everything. “The Hassaikai’s involved with that?”
“They’re distributing an inferior version of it,” Kazuo says. Tenko didn’t know that. You know he didn’t, because he would have told you. How much else doesn’t he know? “And lately they’ve been distributing something else as well. Bullets that erase quirks.”
“I know,” you say. Kazuo looks surprised. “It’s temporary, but they work.”
Compress’s quirk came back within twenty-four hours, but you know it’ll be a long time before anyone in the League forgets what happened in that warehouse. The bruise on your shoulder is fading, but the creepy red lines haven’t. “Nighteye believes that Chisaki is pursuing a more permanent version of the quirk-erasing bullets, and doing so through less than ethical means,” Kazuo says. “Every use of my quirk in the last six weeks has been related to this investigation. Your new name came up in my queries because you crossed paths with Chisaki once. If you, personally, aid him in any way, you’ll become one of the investigation’s targets. So will your friend.”
Chisaki must be Overhaul’s family name. You wonder if he’s got a family. “I don’t think we’re planning to help him,” you say, and see Kazuo’s eyebrows lift. “He killed one of us and maimed another one. That’s not forgivable.”
“Indeed.” Kazuo sits down on a bench, and so do you. It’s quiet for a little while. “So. Saintess.”
“I didn’t pick it.”
“I know,” Kazuo says. Of course he does. “I’d have advised you to choose a name soon regardless. As this escalates, you’ll need to shield your true identity.”
“So I won’t go to jail,” you clarify.
“So you won’t be killed,” Kazuo says. You stare at him. “I’m aware of the – position – you hold in your friend’s organization. If his enemies believe they can use you against him, they will do it, and since targeting you when you’re with him will be difficult, they’ll do it when you’re alone, as a civilian. My query indicated that you haven’t been found out, but today was a very near miss.”
That should make sense to you. You force yourself to think. Why would the Nighteye agency care about an attack in a free clinic on the rough side of Yokohama? They wouldn’t, unless – “Was that guy one of the Hassaikai?”
“Sir Nighteye suspects he is. He won’t know for sure until I search,” Kazuo says. His phone buzzes. He checks it and sighs. “My parameters are in. I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Kazuo –” You don’t know what to say, and he’s already getting to his feet. “Why are you helping me so much? You could get in trouble.”
“I don’t care about that,” Kazuo says. He barely cares about anything anymore. Seeing the apathy overtake him for the past three years has been agonizing. “The world your friend wishes to create, a world without heroes, is a world where this would not have happened to me. It’s too late for me, but there are others who could be spared.”
You look at him, feeling your throat tighten and your eyes burn. “I’m sorry.”
“I told you,” Kazuo says, for the third time today, over his shoulder as he starts the walk back to Yokohama General, “you can’t save us both.”
You’ve always thought he meant himself and Tenko when he said that. Now you wonder if he means himself and you. You wonder what saving either of you would mean. And you wonder if it’s too late for you already.
Your phone buzzes, and you look at it. It’s the new group chat, the one you made because you couldn’t face the thought of never seeing Sho or Hirono’s phone numbers pop up again. Mitsuko’s texting you. And Ryuhei. Quit being a stranger. Come hang with us.
Tenko and the others are already expecting you to be out tonight, and you never said how long you’d be gone. Where are you?
Look up.
You look up, and sure enough, your friends are strolling towards you. “Kazuo dropped a pin,” Ryuhei calls once he’s in earshot. “We never see you anymore.”
It’s been a while since you saw Ryuhei, but Mitsuko? “We saw each other five days ago, Mitsu.”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t exactly fun. And you had to run off to your stupid job.” Mitsuko rolls her eyes. “Come on. Let’s go out. I swear I won’t get wasted and spit on any more sidekicks.”
“And no peeing on the All Might statue.”
“Fine.” Mitsuko heaves a dramatic sigh, while Ryuhei cracks up. “Drinks first.”
“Drinks,” Ryuhei agrees. “I found a maid bar, and they’ll treat me like a creep if I go in there alone.”
You’re pretty sure the three of you together look weirder strolling into a maid bar than Ryuhei would have by himself, but nobody who works there comments on it, and they’re nicer to you than you expected them to be. One of them knows you – she’s one of the people who uses the clinic as a primary care provider, so you’ve seen her a few times a year for the past three years. She cracks a joke about how Ryuhei would look better in a maid costume than she would, which leads directly into Mitsuko bullying him into trying on the headpiece of one of the costumes. You take a picture before you can stop yourself and drop it in the group chat. Kazuo’s busy, but now there’s a record, and you’re pretty sure it’ll make Yoshimi laugh.
You’ve been most comfortable with Tenko and the League lately, but it’s nice to have a night out with your friends, too – one that’s not complicated by your involvement with your childhood best friend turned boyfriend, who probably fits the criteria of a domestic terrorist and who’s been living in your apartment on and off for the past six weeks with his gang of domestic terrorist friends. Mitsuko and Ryuhei are the most irreverent of your group, and they live the closest to the edge. Ryuhei has a record that isn’t his fault – his quirk is entirely unconscious, and when a sidekick launched a quirk-based attack at him while he was running away from a building he’d graffitied, he couldn’t stop himself from reflecting it back. Mitsuko doesn’t have a record, but the cops in Yokohama know her too well to ever give her the benefit of the doubt again. They might have the privilege of having quirks, but you’ve always been able to complain with them in a way that you haven’t with the others.
After the maid café, you find yourselves at karaoke. You collectively suck at karaoke. Ryuhei’s got the best voice, but his enunciation is the first thing to go when he’s drunk, and you can’t listen to him slurring his way through a song without laughing. Mitsuko is tone-deaf, but makes up for it with enthusiastic dance moves, and there’s absolutely nothing about your performances that stands out. You’re such a nonevent at karaoke that Sho used to fall asleep when it was your turn to sing.
It should be fun. It used to be fun. But you’ve lost two friends now. One of your friends is sick, while another’s being forced into work that could snap his mind in two. Mitsuko isn’t okay; you’re not okay. Ryuhei isn’t, either, and when the three of you are alone and you run out of things to talk about, there’s no point in pretending otherwise.
“Everything sucks now,” Ryuhei says in a break between songs. “Not just since they died. For a while.”
“It sucked the whole time. We just didn’t admit it.” Mitsuko is facedown in one of the pillows on the couch. Her voice is muffled. “It was always bullshit. When they were here, it was easier not to think about it.”
“I miss them,” you say. Your voice wavers, but only once. “I wish they were here.”
“Yeah. They should be here, and those heroes shouldn’t.” Ryuhei’s words are slurred, but he’s getting his point across just fine. “If they’re so great, how come nine hundred people died on their watch?”
They sound like Tenko. He’d be happy to hear this, and like you’ve summoned him just by thinking of him, your phone pings with a text from the burner phone Tenko’s been using to call people – Kurogiri, Overhaul, and you. When are you coming back?
I’ll be back tonight.
When?
Can’t he just trust you? You’re about to text back that you’ll be home when you’re done when Mitsuko scoops the phone out of your hands. “Your new boyfriend’s kind of clingy, huh?”
“No,” you say. Part of you gets a stupid little thrill out of admitting that Tenko’s your boyfriend. “Not clingy. He knows I was meeting Kazuo tonight.”
Mitsuko makes an error sound. “Bad move. Telling the new boy about the former boy makes the new boy insecure.”
“No –”
“Especially if the first guy is Kazuo,” Ryuhei says. “Fucking hell. If I was dating his ex and she went out to meet him – and she didn’t tell me when she was coming back – I’d probably shit a brick.”
“Thanks. I really could have done without that picture in my head.” Even as you return fire, you’re wondering if they’ve got a point. If it’s not just that Kazuo’s working for the heroes. If any part of it is that Tenko’s jealous of the guy you dated before him. “What should I do?”
Mitsuko’s still holding your phone, and to your horror, she sends a text. This is Mitsu. Your girlfriend’s not banging her ex, she’s hanging with us. Chill out.
Tenko texts back immediately. Two words. Prove it.
“He wants proof,” Mitsuko announces. “Selfie time! Look cute.”
You can’t manage looking cute. You’re too stressed to look cute, and too distracted by the stupid faces your friends are making. Mitsuko snaps a photo and sends it off, followed by a text. Your turn.
For what?
To prove you’re not banging your ex right now.
You cringe. “He doesn’t have any exes.”
“Aww, you’re his first? No wonder he’s acting like such a freak.” Mitsuko snickers. “It’s fine, anyway. We already know what he looks like.”
Something about that strikes you as odd, but before you can ask, Ryuhei pulls a phone out of his pocket. Not his. This one has a cracked screen and a case with an Endeavor pinup card taped to the back, and all at once there’s a lump in your throat. “Is that Hiro’s?”
“Yeah. They released her personal effects, fucking finally. I was her emergency contact, so I got them.” Mitsuko takes the phone from Ryuhei, your phone forgotten even as it pings again. “You know she was conscious under there?”
Your stomach clenches. “No.”
“Like the whole time. When I unlocked it, there were a whole bunch of undelivered messages, to all of us. I guess the wreckage blocked the signal.” Mitsuko’s voice is flat. Her eyes are filling with tears. “She recorded a message for us. Here.”
You don’t want to listen. You don’t want to see. Not when you had something to do with the disaster that killed her, not when it’s partially your fault. The screen is black, but you can hear Hirono’s voice, rough and choked with dust and tears as she tells all of you that she loves you, that she hated waking up most mornings except that you all made her stupid life worth living. No jokes about Endeavor. No picking on you for being boring or Mitsuru for being a simp for his latest girlfriend or Mitsuko for whatever item of clothing she bought that Hirono hates. Just Hiro saying she loves you. And Hiro saying goodbye.
You’re crying by the end of it, messy, stupid tears. Ryuhei’s teared up, too, but unlike you, he’s still able to talk. “That was the last audio clip,” he says. “There were a bunch of others. While she was trying to grab the phone, I guess. The first one was really interesting.”
He presses play on it, and you know instantly what it’s recording: The fight between All Might and All For One, audio that the news helicopters couldn’t have picked up, audio that would have been suppressed if anyone had gotten ahold of it. All For One is taunting All Might over his failures, mocking him for his ideals, the same words you can imagine Tenko using but with thousands of times more glee. And then you hear it, All For One’s voice chilling your blood even through a recording: “There is one thing you might be interested to know. Shigaraki Tomura, my apprentice? He was once known as Shimura Tenko – your beloved master’s grandson!”
You freeze in place. “That name sounded kind of familiar,” Ryuhei says, after he’s hit pause. “We couldn’t figure out why at first. Yoshimi was the one who got it. Shimura Tenko was your friend. The one who went missing.”
“We all told you he was dead, but you were right and we were wrong.” Mitsuko sprawls out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “We figured there couldn’t be two, so we checked with Kazuo, and then we asked if we should tell you. If it wouldn’t be too hard on you with everything else going on. You know what he said?”
You can guess. “He said, What makes you think she doesn’t know?” Ryuhei mimics Kazuo’s frozen voice. “And then it all made sense. Why you’ve been acting so weird. Why you haven’t been around. Where you got that weird scar on your wrist –”
“And that bite mark on your neck,” Mitsuko adds, and your hand flies up to cover it even though it’s long gone. She waves your phone at you, the screen lit up with texts from Tenko. “I’m texting Shigaraki Tomura right now, aren’t I?”
You could lie. You need to lie. But even as you’re stammering through the first sentence of your denial, you know it’s too late. Your friends know. Kazuo as good as told them. And in some weird way, you’re relieved. You don’t have to lie any more. You can let it go. So you stop talking, except for one sentence. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Are you kidding me? We don’t want to rat you out,” Ryuhei says. “We want in.”
You stare at him. “We want to meet him first,” Mitsuko says. “Since you’ve been hung up on him since you were a toddler and your judgment with guys isn’t usually garbage –”
“But we want in,” Ryuhei interrupts. “Like we said. It’s been bullshit for a long time. At least your psycho boyfriend is doing something about it.”
“So?” Mitsuko looks at you expectantly. “When do we meet him?”
Your phone pings again, and again – and then it starts ringing. Mitsuko holds it out to you, and you answer the call. “My friends want to meet you.”
“I’m not jealous,” Tenko says. Someone guffaws in the background. “I’m not. I thought someone had – when are you getting back? It’s –”
“My friends want to meet you,” you say again. “Do you want to meet them?”
“They want to meet me,” Tomura repeats. He sounds just as confused as you feel. “Like, me, or –?”
“They know. I didn’t tell them, they guessed.”
“We want in,” Ryuhei says loudly, and you jump. “Do we have to audition or something? I’ve got a record.”
“I’d have one if I hadn’t blown my arresting officer,” Mitsuko adds from your other side, and someone on the other end of the line – probably Spinner – breaks out in a coughing fit. “So?”
Tomura’s quiet for a second. “In a few days,” he says. Ryuhei digs an excited elbow into your side. “Tell them they’d better know exactly what “in” means for them.”
“I’ll tell them,” you say. He’s stressed. You can tell. This is your fault. “Sorry.”
“Don’t. When are you coming back?”
“Soon,” you say. “I promise. I –”
Whatever you were going to say gets drowned out by Mitsuko making incredibly loud kissing sounds right next to the microphone. You hang up and shove her away, hard. Not that it bothers her. She’s cackling to herself. “He said yes?”
“In a few days. And you’d better know exactly what you mean when you say you’re in.”
“Nice!” Ryuhei gives you what’s probably a friendly punch in the arm, and you recoil with a hiss. He hit just above the impact point of Overhaul’s bullet. “Oh, sorry.”
Mitsuko has a weird look on her face now. You decide not to overreact to it. She might just be drunk. When Ryuhei hops up to go rent your karaoke booth for another hour, she turns to you. “Does he hurt you?”
“Who, Ryuhei?”
“No. Your boyfriend.” Mitsuko’s expression is serious, maybe more serious than you’ve ever seen it. “That thing on your wrist. I remember when your voice was fucked up, too. There’s more, right? Something’s up with your shoulder. Did he do that?”
You shake your head. You didn’t step in front of the bullet on Tenko’s orders. He was mad at you for doing it. “But he’s hurt you before,” Mitsuko says. You open your mouth and she talks right over you. “You’re going to say he didn’t mean to, right?”
But he didn’t. The first time, he didn’t remember you until it was almost too late. When he bit you, he didn’t realize how hard he was doing it, just like he didn’t realize he’d activated his quirk the first time you touched him. When his nails tore up the back of your hand, it was because you put your hand there. “He didn’t mean to,” you say. Mitsuko makes a derisive sound. “Don’t. I know him and you don’t. He didn’t mean to.”
“Just because he’s sorry doesn’t mean he didn’t mean it,” Mitsuko says. “I know guys like him. I know them better than you do.”
Guys like him. Magne said something like that, too. You didn’t try to talk her out of it, and you don’t try to talk Mitsuko out of it, either – just like you’ve given up trying to talk Tenko out of the lies his master told him for now. “You’ll meet him soon. You can make up your own mind.”
Ryuhei comes back, and you and Mitsuko shut up in unison. “We got another hour, but then they’re kicking us out,” he reports. “We got another few songs. Who wants to sing?”
You don’t to. Mitsuko does, though, and after two songs from her, Ryuhei commandeers the mic and forces you to sing. Like always, you’re boring enough to send at least one of your friends to sleep, and with Mitsuko passed out on the couch, you hand the mic back to Ryuhei. He’s in a good mood, at least partially because he’s drunk, but you’re most of the way to sober, and you can’t help feeling like you’ve screwed up. You wanted to keep your friends out of this, and they’re in. You’re this close to getting Kazuo in trouble, too. And you’ve let Tenko down. Again.
You text him, wondering if he’s still awake, hoping he isn’t. I’m sorry.
Don’t. We still need allies, and if you trust them, I can trust them, too. Tenko’s response comes back fast, and the weight of his trust knocks the air out of you. When are you coming home?
We’re leaving soon. I should be home in an hour or so.
Good. Tenko’s immediate response gives you that weird hit of normalcy again. It’s a normal conversation, the kind you’d be having if you’d grown up together and gotten together and moved in together, if nothing had gone wrong. I miss you.
I miss you too.
“Hey,” Ryuhei says, and you look up. “I’m putting on the performance of a lifetime here. You two aren’t even watching?”
“Sorry,” you say. Mitsuko sits up, then lies back down with her head in your lap. “Go for it.”
Ryuhei gets back to it, aiming slightly sulky looks your way, and you settle in. You keep your eyes on him, but your mind’s left the building. It’s already on the train, halfway back to your apartment, all the way back to your apartment, through the front door and home to your best friend.
Tomura before & during the "war". Endeavour and the rest couldn't do shit lmao.
Dont repost or use
18+, minor don't interact with the 18+ contentTomura shigaraki's biggest simpArtist, writter
479 posts