Latest Posts by flamme-shigaraki-spithoe - Page 11

Come Down to the Black Sea IV

Summary: The sea seems to call to you, but it’s not the tumultuous clash of the waves you should fear. Something lurks deep beneath the black waters, something sinister with a piqued interest and ill intent.

Rating: Explicit

No real warnings in this chapter, surprisingly. A little bit of blood and mentions of depression, but nothing overtly terrible. If you’re new, please check out the previous parts for applicable warnings. 

PART I, PART II, PART III, AO3 MIRROR

TAGLIST: @lemonzoey, @babayaga67, @badtimechara, @prospekt-42 @krystalwithakay, @lunera-san, @jenorca​ (If you wish to be added or removed, please let me know, it’s very difficult to find everyone who wanted to be added on the older posts so I might have missed some and I apologize.)

It seems so lonely sometimes, the ocean.

The gentle push and shove of the waves, pulling at the sand as if to yank land into a reluctant embrace. The sea swallows anything you give to it, finding a home in her waters for whatever you might offer. She preserves our devastation and tragedy, collections of scattered bones and memories buried deep in a sepulchral graveyard of algae. Once picturesque ships now rusted and rotten along her depths that humanity once revered and has now left to rot. She leaves them relatively undisturbed, finding a home for her creatures instead, repurposing our disasters and death to bring new life inside of her.

You wonder, sometimes, if she gets lonely too. If perhaps that’s why she clings to the surface’s lost trinkets and breeds new growth in its stead. We offer only destruction, and she benevolently gives back life. Ying and yang. Water and land. Life and death. A forlorn balance.

She’s calm tonight. Tame waves tenderly caressing the side of the rock you’ve dubbed your new cathedra. It’s a mild night; soft winds and balmy. It’s mournful in a way you can’t describe, almost sad in nature despite the general pleasantness of the atmosphere. Like there’s something missing, something taken. Something it searches for but can’t find or replace. Something important replaced by dust and emptiness. An entire piece taken out of being.

Or perhaps you’re projecting your own emotions onto an inanimate entity.

It’s been building for some time- ashes still simmering beneath an extinguished fire. A dull ache in your chest that hollows in your throat during your weaker moments. A part of you that longs to reach out and grasp something that cannot be felt.

Humans aren’t islands. They weren’t meant to exist alone. Yet, for years, you’ve felt nothing but.

You can cry your sorrows to the water and dip your toes in the tides but even if she wanted to, the ocean cannot respond to your pleas. She can only listen, returning your confidence with small sea creatures that cross your path as if to soothe you. Occasionally a small school of fish you can barely see beneath the navy waves. Sometimes a small crab.

You’re left wondering why she saw fit to send Shigaraki. Perhaps her way of telling you to quit trauma-dumping.

Afficher davantage

Come Down to the Black Sea III

Summary: The sea seems to call to you, but it’s not the tumultuous clash of the waves you should fear. Something lurks deep beneath the black waters, something sinister with a piqued interest and ill intent.

Rating: Explicit 

Warnings: Siren!Shigaraki, graphic depictions of violence, heavy sexual innuendo, implied noncon, foul language, sexual tension you can cut with a knife, and just general sexual grossness. Joking daddy kink also, if you count that. 

PART I, PART II

Here you go! The third installment. Your seafaring friend finds your hot button and decides to plant some lovely ideas in your brain. Listening to them probably is not the smartest idea in regards to keeping your heart beating, but it certainly gets your thighs clenching. 

Taglist: @lemonzoey​, @babayaga67​

You know, it’s really rough to explain to your superiors at work why you’re so distracted when it happens to be because a mythical being is giving you the cold shoulder. 

You’re not entirely certain why it bothers you so much that your last encounter with him ended rather sour. He had made it perfectly plain from the get-go that his intent with you was far from pure. Murderous, in fact. He had almost drowned you on your first meeting and insulted you incessantly during your second. Not exactly a friendly track record. 

Regardless, he’s made a permanent home crawling beneath your human skin, like some itch you can’t scratch away. You can try to justify it however you’d like, but you can’t ignore the truth. In a word full of mundane existence, you’ve found an oddity and as much as you’d like to pretend you aren’t, you’re drawn to it. It’s part of why you returned to the beach despite the clear and present danger. You’d found a living, breathing mermaid. Even more impressive, you’d managed to piss him off.

Mermaid? Is that accurate? He’s so sensitive to being classified wrongly, but still never told you what he was. Considering the circumstances, maybe you should be a little bit more concerned about other things rather than offending him, but it still bothers you. 

Your ignorance isn’t due to lack of trying. You’ve done extensive research in the spare moments you have during the day, but nothing quite matches his description no matter how deeply you delve into the weirder parts of the internet, even going so far as to browse around on conspiracy sites on the darknet. Mermaid? Merman? Siren? Fish-guy? Some distantly related offspring to that Ripley’s Believe it or Not monkey fish? Relentless searching proved fruitless. Plenty of old sun-crazed fishermen claim to have seen merfolk in the waters or sirens on the rocks, but more often than not, it was a walrus or stage 4 sea madness. No one had a legitimate account of meeting with a real, intelligent creature of the deep. Nothing that came remotely close to him, anyway.

Afficher davantage

My my, this account is gold !😭🤌✨

Come Down to the Black Sea

Summary: The sea seems to call to you, but it’s not the tumultuous clash of the waves you should fear. Something lurks deep beneath the black waters, something sinister with a piqued interest and ill intent. 

Rating: Teen, unless I chose to post the later chapters. Then things get all dirty and stuff.

Warnings: Siren!Shigaraki. So, there’s that. Foul language, as always. Slight struggle.

Hello, please take my garbage. This was originally a discord exclusive ficlet that ended up too fucking long. I meant to post it a while back but got distracted. I’ve read over it and I hate it a lot more than I did originally, more than I can really convey, but I feel bad for not posting anything story related for a while and maybe some folks will enjoy this. I promise I edited, I swear. Never thought I’d write something like this. Ever. and by ‘like this’, I mean no filth less than 500 words in. Either way, here it is. 

“What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams.”

The sea is as much a constant to you as the gentle breeze that blankets your little port town. Every action you take daily in some small way reminds you that not so far away, the unforgiving tides are lapping hungrily at the shore and the restless ocean waters stir miles from the coast. Every breath you take is somewhat tinged with the briny smell of sea salt and slight sulfur. Seafood stalls and restaurants dot the coastal region, making up a large portion of the diets and employ of the folks who make their homes here. 

Yet, for as big of a part of their lives as it is, there is so little known about it. 

The ocean’s mysteries are as vast as her expanse and as deep as the trenches that lurk within her depths. 

Children are raised on cautionary tales, made acutely aware of the ever-present dangers of life near the open water. Rip currents and drowning, sailors lost at sea and boats that never make it to harbor. Hostile creatures that make their nests within the darkened deep  beyond the pale of human experience. These things are often as mysterious as they are tragic and leave behind loved ones mourning not only the loss of lives, but the answers they’ll never have.

Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if your kind has gotten just a bit too comfortable near the seaside. 

You’re not the only one that thinks so. 

Afficher davantage

THIS MASTERPIECE !✨✨✨

Once Upon a Time

Summary: You’re no princess but he’s no Prince Charming. It seems only fitting that a deranged little vagabond down on her luck would run into the big, bad villain himself in a seedy bar. Perhaps he’ll make a queen of you yet.

Rating: Very Explicit

Warnings: Rape/Non-con/Severe dubcon (listen, I’m not fuckin’ around on this one. If you’re even slightly squeamish or traumatized in this department, don’t. There’s a really fucked up, unrealistic dynamic going on here. And don’t read it and then @ me because it’s glorifying/romanticizing. IDC.) Spitting (specifically him into your mouth.) Manhandling, alcohol, abusive actions, choking, slight stalking, unhealthy and toxic relationships, depictions of violence, blood, biting, cursing, degradation, dirty talk, cringey dialogue, cliche storyline, poorly written by a bad author.

Length: Fuckin’ long.

Anyway, take this sack of flaming garbage. It sucks but it’s driving me nuts in my drafts. Sorry for infecting your feed with this shit, you have my apologies.

There is absolutely nothing charming about this bar. 

A shitty hole-in-the-wall dive located in a back alley in the shady part of town, complete with watered down booze, haughty patrons, and a sinuous 15 minute walk to the nearest train station because no one who comes here willingly is leaving sober. The drinks are cheap but you certainly make up for the money you save in the quality of the company you keep while you’re inside. 

Dilapidated plywood walls littered with fist and foot shaped holes from drunken brawls and floors that hadn’t been cleaned since the day they were laid. None one quite knows what the original color was anymore, not now that they were covered in all manner of Christ knows what. The smell of cheap alcohol seems to have permeated the pores of the building itself to give it the permanent stench of 5 dollar gaso-liquor. 

This isn’t a place where a princess finds her Prince Charming, and no storybook fairytale has ever crossed paths with the building or extended its mercy to the patrons. That works just fine for you. You’re not here to find your happily ever after unless that happily ever after entails getting black out drunk and stumbling back home with a few new bruises and someone’s blood between your knuckles. 

Afficher davantage

Hear me out. Shiggys captive gf tries to escape so he punishes her by ruining her poor lil butthole

Oh my GOD I love this. I don't know what my fucking deal is today but I am seriously SERIOUSLY just loving the degradation and dominance of him fuckin' you square in the ass when you’re all squeamish and meek about it. I had a few other ones I was gunna try to do first but I am feeling it today.

tw for the standard stuff: Noncon, Dubcon, assplay, bondage, kidnapping, abuse mention, manipulation, general rudeness, etc.

You yank and pull at the bonds that keep you tethered to the headboard, but the rope finds no mercy for you, offering no slack as you desperately attempt to thrash your arms free. Stomach pressed against the filthy mattress, you writhe and kick. It digs into your hands, tearing sores into the delicate skin that covers the bones in your wrist. You can scream and shout and throw your little tantrum, but the binds don’t have the capacity to show leniency, much like the sentient things that dwell in this building where he holds you captive. 

None of them investigate your cries for help. Those that did never lasted long. 

Tears of frustration bead in the corner of your eyes, breathless and aching in your useless act of defiance. It was your last little display of rebellion that landed you here in the first place. 

He’d grown complacent around you, or at least you’d thought he had. Kissed you all too tenderly on the temple before leaving you alone in your cell, hands left free for the first time in months. You’d pondered briefly if he believed you tame now, wondered if he thought he had managed to subdue your rage as you slipped the confines of your prison. 

It was a simple task. Far too simple. Had you been more observant, perhaps you might’ve noticed the mischievous glint to his eyes as he had locked the door, the slight grin that tugged at his lips. 

But you were feral in your hope, so terribly reckless in your pursuit of freedom. A smarter girl would have waited. A more clever one have wondered why his demeanor had changed so suddenly. 

But months of his forced affections had left you starved and broken, so eager to feel the sun on your face and the precious autonomy of moving about the world without the leash he kept for you pulled so taut you would could suffocate. You’d acted far too rashly, and he would punish you for it. That’s all you were certain of. 

Your heart drops as the door to your cell swings open, hinges creaking so slowly it makes you want to scream. He’s a theatric at heart, loves to leave a lasting impact. Each footstep carefully timed, precise movements calculated to ensure lasting terror. As he comes to stand so closely you can only hear his breathing, the silence fills you with dread. A shiver wracks your spine as you hear him sigh, breaking the quiet and as he tuts you dramatically. 

“And here I thought we’d moved past this.” 

His hands graze your calf, slowly moving up to your thigh before stopping just short of the curve of your ass. He studies you, paralyzed in fear and pulled apart to his liking, and you swear you can hear him shudder in some twisted form of anticipation. An ill omen of things to come. 

“I guess you just aren’t ready yet.” His cold, lithe fingers toy with the seams of your threadbare panties, pulling them down just enough that you wiggle in defiance. “I don’t enjoy punishing you like this, you know.”

‘Yes you do!’ The accusation seethes behind your tongue but you’ve learned better of it. He’s quick to strike you down in your fits, any semblance of disrespect swiftly culled. Last time you spoke out of turn, it landed you with a fat lip and a swollen cheek, his tongue licking the blood from the open wound on your mouth. it’s best to save your energy for whatever is to come. 

Your panties find their way to your knees courtesy of him, the harsh yanking motion enough to jerk the mattress. Despite how many times he’s seen the intimate parts of you, you still clench your eyes in embarrassment when he reveals you. He palms the fat of your ass, kneading his fingernails into the plump skin hard enough it hurts. He’s breathing too hard despite having barely touched you, pulling your cheeks apart despite how you wiggle to lurch yourself free.

“I guess I just have to put you in your place again.” 

One of his hands keeps you pried open, the other lifting to his mouth. He wets two of his digits between his tongue, letting his saliva gather thick on his skin before sliding them down your crack, positioning them just short of the puckered hole above your pussy. 

“Wait, no- Tomura, please, don’t! I’m sorry!” 

He laughs, sinister and cruel, tapping the pads of his fingers down as you clench. “You’re going to want to relax. It hurts less that way.”

A thin finger slides in, wiggling past the first ring of tight muscle and slowly works itself deeper inside your cavity before pulling out and repeating the action. It’s uncomfortable bordering on painful, but no matter how much you worm in his grasp, he doesn’t relent. Before long, he slithers his other finger in alongside the first, scissoring ever so slightly. 

“You should be grateful I’m trying to loosen you up after how you behaved. I could fuck you dry, you know.” 

You only whimper in response, teeth digging into your bottom lip in an effort to ease the tension, trying to focus on anything but the sensation of him prodding all too deeply inside of you. 

“I was going to use toys to make this nice and easy at first, but those are for girls who obey me.” He pushes in as far as he can before turning his hand and pumping in and out once again. 

It hurts, and you’re far too aware that if his fingers cause this level of discomfort, things will only get worse when he decides he’s done trying to prepare you to take him inside.

“Please! Don’t! I’ll be good! I promise!” 

Your begging falls on deaf ears. Somewhere deep down, you know he’s lying. He’s been waiting for this for a long time, almost shoved his cock there many times before but hesitated and decided better of it. He orchestrated the perfect scenario, one you couldn’t resist. He’d set you up to fail, and like a rat in a cage, you’d fallen for it so easily. He enjoys his little games, loves giving you hope only to yank it away and punishing you for even considering it.

“That’s what you said last time.” He tries to add a third finger, chuckling at your low whimper. “I don’t like lying little whores.” 

Your nails dig into the soft of your palms, embedding so deeply that you’re surprised the flesh hasn’t ripped. Anything to keep your mind off of what’s to come. Your mind rapidly files through things you can say or do to appease him, things he seems to enjoy. He likes when you humiliate yourself for him, when you throw yourself into pretending that you love him as much as he is obsessed with you. 

“T-Tomura, my love-” You swallow back the stem of tears, quickly wiping the few escapees on the dirty mattress beneath you. “I’m sorry. I won’t try to escape again, I promise. I get confused sometimes, but I know you love me. I love you too, you don’t have to punish me.” 

He pauses, slowing the movements of his fingers before withdrawing them from you completely and pulling away.

You almost heave an audible sigh of relief, but it’s short lived. He swings one leg over you, straddling your backside on his knees before leaning forward to whisper in your ear. 

“I told you to relax. Don’t make this harder on yourself than it needs to be.” He hisses, hand brushing the cleft of your bottom as he undoes his zipper. Your crying begins anew, thrashing in an attempt to buck him off of the back of your thighs. 

He’s accustomed to your outbursts, easily able to stabilize himself as he frees his cock from the confines of his pants. He doesn’t bother pulling them down all the way. reaching instead into his pocket to pull out a small packet. He rips it with his teeth, using one hand to massage the liquid onto his rapidly hardening prick, the other smearing the excess around your opening and prodding you again with his thumb this time. 

“Shh-” He hushes you, stroking your hair as he brings his cock to sit right at your backdoor entrance. His gentle gesture is contrasted directly by the malevolence in his voice, blatantly mocking you. “You might even like it, huh? Might even beg me to fuck you here again.” 

He doesn’t give you time to respond, pushing his hips forward and beginning to press his dick against the resistant cavity. Your sniffles and cries garner you no sympathy, he only hold himself steady as the tip slips past the first ring and slowly pulses his hips to break down the resistance of the ultra-tight walls. You can’t help but wail every time he inches further inside of you, each centimeter of his length burrowing deeper and deeper into your ass with every teasing little maneuver. 

“Shit- So fucking tight here too! I knew you would be.” He laughs, almost gasping. “Is it your first time being fucked here?”

You don’t answer, don’t give him the satisfaction of either response. 

“It doesn’t matter now.” He reaches one of his hands down, pulling you apart further as he shimmies his hips in an effort to stuff you fully. “My cock is the only one you’ll ever have again.” 

You can’t help the strangled sob that breaks from your throat, as desperate as you were to not give him the pleasure. “Tomura please! Please, it hurts!” 

“I know it does.” He coos at you a baby voice.

All you can do is grit your teeth and do your best to shoulder the pain as he paps his lower body against you, eventually fully enveloped inside. You feel too full, his intrusion inside of you almost too much to bear. He presses his hips against you, rolling them a few times for good measure as you cry into your bound arms. 

“Fuck- that’s so good! That’s one tight little hole you’ve got back here. I’ve only barely gotten inside and I could probably blow my load right now.” He cackles, smacking the side of your hip and causing you almost jolt against him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Make it nice and fast?” 

You nod, sniveling pathetically and knowing that your answer ultimately doesn’t matter. 

“Don’t get excited. You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” 

He lets his chest rest fully against your back, one hand holding your hip steady to keep him inside despite your wriggling while the other comes to tip your chin up, forcing you to look at him. He studies your watery eyes, your trembling lips, the hastily mumbled pleas that beg him to stop. He only smiles softly, placing another all too gentle kiss on your forehead. 

That’s the finality of his tenderness, raising his legs up slightly and sliding out of you by several inches before immediately pushing back in. Another choked cry escapes your lips, petering out into a whiny blubber as his hips meet the back of your thighs once more. He repeats the motion again and again, each time with a little more force. 

“I told you to relax, baby.” He arches himself over you, moving his hands to hold himself up with a firm grip on your arms. “Or don’t. It’s like you’re sucking me in. Damn, I really can’t get enough of this!”

You do your best to relax your protesting muscles, focusing on anything but the sensation of his large cock invading your asshole. With every thrust, it’s like he forces himself deeper and deeper, small groans escalating into grunts and growls as he works himself up. Every subsequent stroke, he plunges harder, skin smacking against skin as his breath grows heavy. You can feel as he begins to sweat beneath his shirt, or at least could until he pulls away suddenly, leaving you connected as he situates himself upright. 

He pulls up on both sides of your hips, forcing your lower half up into the air to meet him, bottoming out inside you again shortly after. He rams himself into you, barely keeping you stabilized as his nails dig into the soft fat of your waist, pinky wavering as he tries to keep himself in control. The rhythm he sets is intense, only finding the confidence to weave one hand through your hair after several minutes of practice. 

He forces your head down even further into the mattress at first, shuddering at the intensity the new angle offers him. You think, if only for a moment, that he might be close, but your hope is quickly dashed when he yanks you up by the roots and arching your back to a painful degree. 

“You like this, don’t you? You like my cock buried in your ass, like it when I use your slutty little body however I want to. Tell me you want more, tell me you want me to ream your ass and use you as a cumdump!” 

You refuse to respond, trying in vain to keep the tears from falling as he uses you mercilessly. Unfortunately, Shigaraki is nothing if not accomplished at getting exactly what he wants. 

The hand steadying your waist slithers down between your legs, teasing the little bud there with his still-lubed fingers. He doesn’t miss your quiet gasp, the way your thighs clench if only for a moment. It’s all that it takes to know that he’s got you. His touches are feather light in the beginning. Gentle grazes and light strokes to get you worked up. He even relaxes his brutal thrusts inside of you, dulling it down to a languid roll. 

“Please-” You stutter, trying to block out the pleasure blooming between your thighs even as he abuses your ass. 

“Please what?” He feigns innocence, middle finger working small patterns around your swelling clit. 

“Stop!” You beg, struggling against his poisonous lavish of affection. 

“Aw, is that really what you want?” He giggles, now using two of his fingers to work tight knit circles, coordinating his movements to match that of his cock. Your breath grows heavy from his expert movements, unable to deny the tightness winding as he plays with you. 

“My pretty, stupid little slut. You really think you can resist me, don’t you? I can drag this out all night if I want. I can find something else to stick in that tight little pussy of yours too, show you what it’s really like to be stuffed so full you can’t move. You can beg me to cum in your ass, or I can find another use for that mouth while I do it over and over again.”

Even despite his harsh words, your eyes are glazing. You can feel your apex throb as his fingers expertly stroke across your cunt, the forced intrusion in your hole starting to feel something other than painful. As much as you wish he didn’t, you know he’s aware of this, breathing heavy in your ear as he adds more weight to both his hips and his hands. 

“What do you want? Say it!” He seethes, punctuating his sentence with a particularly rough slam. 

“I want you to cum in my ass! Please!” 

Your acquiescence seems to please him, rewarding you with his fingers. “Do you like it when I fuck you here? Tell me.” 

“Y-Yes, I love it when you fuck me in my ass! Please use me however you want, I’m yours!” 

You don’t have to see him to know the terrible grin that slices across his face. He speeds his motions once again, coaxing a loud moan from you. The bedframe squeaks with every punch of his cock inside you, but the pain has subsided to a dull roar. Raw pleasure takes its place, flooding out from your thighs and spiraling through your limbs. Your nipples pebble in response, tingling from every brush against the mattress. 

“What are you? Tell everyone just what you are.” He pulls you up higher by your hair, unnatural arch of your back only adding to the cacophony of sensation bombarding your nerves. He licks your cheek leaving a thick stripe of saliva across your face, waiting for your answer. Picking up the pace, both of his movements and the manipulation of your quim, he revels in the unraveling of your will power under his hands and the lust-drunk emptiness in your expression. 

“I’m your stupid little whore and I want you to cum in my ass! Please Shigaraki, please fuck me!” 

His eyes narrow, satisfied in your broken pleading.

“Good bitch. Now let me take care of you the way you deserve.” 

He slicks his fingers in your juices, kissing your neck when you whine at his absence before expertly beginning to rub you again, groaning as your clench and squeeze around him. His animalistic grunts echo off the cement walls alongside your needy, licentious moans, mumbling half coherent sentences in the shell of your ear as he nibbles and bites at you. He ramps up his treatment, his cock throbbing in your ass cluing you in to the fact that he’s close. 

The coil winds tighter and tighter and you find yourself bucking your hips against him to meet his thrusts, inebriated on the ecstasy of his nimble fingers. If he wasn’t holding you up, you’re fully certain you would have keeled over by now, unable to keep yourself upright between the quaking and the overwhelming waves of pleasure that threaten to drown you. You’re so close now, drool slipping from the side of your mouth, eyes hazy and fluttering. 

“Perfect little slut! You’ll cum around my cock no matter what hole I stick it in, won’t you?” His words are bold, but like you, it’s painfully apparent that he’s on the brink of orgasm. “Beautiful- fucking-” He heaves, shoving you back down on the mattress, arching over you again but keeping his palm centered on your sloppy cunt, incessantly grinding the pads of his fingers on your pulsing pearl. “Whore! My whore! Fuck, I love you, I love you-” 

Blinding white encompasses your vision, searing pleasure erupting from your abdomen. You throw your head back onto against shoulder, practically screaming as your thighs quake and you lose any ability to keep yourself steady. In the outskirts of your consciousness, you can feel him as he’s thrown over the edge as well, cussing and spitting as he forces his cock as deep as it will go, cumming deeply with a breathy groan against your ear. He rolls his hips against you, muttering about how tightly your ass milks him, but at the present moment, you can’t quite process it. Not when you’re breathless and seizing in bliss of your own. 

Your hands shake and your eyes roll backward, cunt clenching around nothing as your hands flex uselessly against the air. You can hear his name spill from your lips alongside vile sentiments you would never say otherwise, but in the moment, it feels so right. You can feel him rest against your sweaty back, stroking you tenderly through your orgasm until the sea of pink starts to subside and his motions begin to border on painful. 

“T-Tomura-” You sigh, finally fully waded through your shameful undoing. His heart pounds against you, so hard you can barely feel your own beat out of control in your chest. He decides upon kindness and you’re grateful for it, removing his fingers gracefully from beneath you before falling to your side and wrapping his arms around you. The uncomfortable wetness between your cheeks and dripping from your hole becomes uncomfortably apparent, alongside the now throbbing pain of your abused ass. Disgust washes over you, swallowing down a sob as he tenderly rubs your ribs. 

“I’ll get you cleaned up in a few minutes, but I want to lie like this for now. Don’t try and run from me again, okay? I don’t like hurting you but you know sometimes I have to.” He kisses your temple again, sickly sweet and gentle. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad, was it? I promise you’ll get used to it.” 

these summer nights m.list

pairing: DCA sun/moon/eclipse x reader

mentions: summer camp au, gender neutral reader, shenanigans, fluff, humor, horror, typical summer camp activities, pranks, everything is fine :) (everything was, in fact, not fine), sfw, glitch'd up animatronics (later on), missing children

this fic is inspired by Apricus which is written by Imagine_Darksiders on ao3!! it lit my ass on fire, super good one shot!!!! :)

current word count: 22k (in progress!)

summary:

it was out of complete spontaneity that you decided one day to apply to camp fazbear as a full-time summer counselor. you didn’t really expect to get the job—your resume was lacking in the ‘care of children’ department, after all—but one phone call and several forms signed later, you were on your way to the little camp nestled deep in the woods about half a state away. 

only, camp fazbear wasn’t as “little” as you’d expected—and maybe you should have researched the place more for it also had rather… quirky… counselors. robotic counselors, that were more than a bit intimidating and creepy at times. but that was fine, you thought to yourself, because it would definitely make your summer experience more interesting than you’d initially assumed. 

you just—didn’t expect it to get to this level of interesting, is all.

AO3 LINK

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three - TBA

chapter four - TBA

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Goofy Xmas stuff that took WAYYY longer than it had any right to. Anyway don’t look too long at this or you’ll reveal how fucked it still is

YES ! FUCKING YES !

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

Chapter Twenty-Four - At Last

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Slow Burn, Misogyny

Notes: Ho(s) Ho(s) Ho(s)! Happy Holidays my lovelies. Here is an early Christmas present (or late Hanukkah present) to get you through the holidays. Thank you all for always having so much patience for my slow updates and I look forward to finishing this fic with you all in the New Year!

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[excerpt]

Door-slamming was not particularly common in the Shigaraki household. It was a fact that would be surprising to many, considering how much anger and resentment was harbored just under the surface of this “perfect” luxury, penthouse apartment. Nonetheless, it was a rarity. Perhaps due to the very fact that they were under this roof, that any weakness that led to such an outburst was kept so under wraps. The head of the household was too poised and the young successor too self-destructive to ever show the hand of their emotions like that.

So, it went without saying that when Kurogiri heard the front door slam open, hours after Tomura Shigaraki was due home, it gave him enough concern to pause his dish washing.

“Tomura Shigaraki?” he called out to the entrance.

A thunk responded. And then a twin thunk soon after. They were his shoes, hitting whatever wall or plank of floor was unlucky enough to be in Shigaraki’s way, Kurogiri realized as he left the kitchen and saw the young ward storming through the living room in bare feet.

“Is everything alright?”

He didn’t respond. Just continued to storm straight for the staircase.

Ignoring Kurogiri when he was pissed off was practically the norm for Shigaraki. That wasn’t enough to worry his ever-attentive and unphased carer. It was the dazed sway and stumble in his step. The way that he walked straight into the decorative end table, clearly hitting his foot hard enough to hurt, but not slowing down. Only throwing the offending furniture aside hard enough to splinter. Violently, but wordlessly.

Now, that behavior worried Kurogiri.

“Tomura Shigaraki, what’s wrong?”

The clear, unsettling mix of numbness and pain practically frothing at the surface, just waiting to bubble over and tear him apart.

“ Tenko .”

A forbidden word in this house, but one that was serious enough to finally stop Shigaraki in his tracks. But not for long. He tried to climb up the stairs just a second later, but it gave Kurogiri enough time to actually catch him by the shoulders and turn him around to look at him.

His expression was ragged, broken. Not unlike the way he looked when he first came into the Boss’s care. But there was a burning hatred in his eyes as well, one much more raging and self-loathing than Kurogiri had ever seen. And that was saying something.

There were no polite words Kurogiri could use to describe this expression. Frankly, it worried the shit out of him.

“Tomura, son,” Kurogiri breathed, letting himself show a sentimentality and worry that his boss would certainly fire him for if he knew of it, “What’s happened?”

Everything about him — his body movement, tense posture, the fresh blood on his neck — it all conveyed a furiousness that Kurogiri was quite used to, a tantrum-like anger that was no cause for concern. But his face read something different. A blankness, a sickness, an exhaustion.

Devastation.

Tomura Shigaraki was breaking before his very eyes.

“Nothing,” he lied through grit teeth.

Kurogiri reached into his vest pocket, pulling out a spare handkerchief he kept exactly for these purposes. He reached it forward, padding Shigaraki’s neck gently, “ This is not nothing, Tomura.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he spat, looking away and tilting his head back so that Kurogiri could get a better angle at his neck.

Now that had to be the greatest lie he’d ever heard the boy spout.

Realizing that this current path was getting him no closer to a clear answer, Kurogiri decided to try a different approach. To dig a little deeper.

“You went to see your friend today, didn’t you?” he asked, “How did that go—”

Shigaraki snapped to him, furious and frantic. He smacked Kurogiri’s hand away from him, might’ve even hit the family caretaker if he hadn’t had the quick instinct to step away.

“Don’t mention her! Don’t you ever mention that stupid bitch to me again!” 

Ah, so that was it.

“It’s alright, Tomura Shigaraki. You can tell me what happened,” Kurogiri assured gently, trying to figure out the best way to get close to him now that he’d started tearing into his neck again. He was like a cornered animal right now, a captive wolf trying to chew its own leg off and ready to bite and kill anything that got near him, “Just calm down—”

“Calm down— I don’t need to fucking calm down!” he practically screamed, “You think I give a shit what she does with her life? What she does with him ?! It doesn’t mean anything! She’s worthless! Just another whore Sensei bought me to keep me from getting bored! I hope she fucking die—!”

Shigaraki froze suddenly, unable to get that last word out of his mouth. Because it wasn’t true. 

None of it was true of course, but that especially — the idea of not only him never seeing her again, but her not existing at all? He couldn’t even pretend to think that. Just the idea of it made him sick.

 He slapped a hand over his mouth suddenly, a distress that Kurogiri knew all too well filling the young boy’s bloodshot eyes.

No more words or time was needed. Kurogiri grabbed Shigaraki by the shoulders and rushed him to the bathroom where he promptly and violently emptied the contents of his stomach.

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Summary Chap 1

Featuring: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader cw: None, but this series contains adult themes so minors don't interact. Word count: 4.8 k AO3

∘₊✧─────────────✧₊∘

The timeless fact shared throughout human history is that resources equal power. A few generations ago, quirks weren’t even considered a possibility, let alone a metric of power, even if superpowers are currently statistically as prevalent as brown eyes. Financial resources are still considered the most valuable.

Tomura granted himself access to that resource thanks to his battle with Redestro, and as a result, the league did as well.

It was fun at first to eat anything you wanted whenever you wanted and have clean clothes delivered to your door. It was so simple to become familiar with the pleasant things. Getting used to being seen as some kind of authority figure by the members of the Paranormal Liberation Front was not. You didn't agree to this.

It continued to bother you that the members of the PLF insisted on calling you Lieutenant Y/n. After the numerous reunions you attended, nothing but the thought of delivering your dismissive to Tomura rounded your mind, stating that you didn’t want anything distinctive and that you were content with being merely Y/n. Writing the letter took you a while. It would be easier to tell him in person, but brushing away the feeling that he was actively avoiding you has been complicated since that night.

Setting up a communication method that allowed him to avoid you seemed more appropriate. Saving him—and you—uncomfortable eye contact and more awkward talk. By that train of thought, sending a text was far simpler, but it felt wrong. You wanted him to read your handwriting not because it was good but because you wanted him to know you took the time to consider your choice.

It is not like you were leaving.

But you were in a way that mattered to him.

The first draft was lengthy. You poured your heart into the paper sheet, but it soon dawned on you that you had written it for yourself, not Tomura. That kind of relationship was not what you had with him. You began again, dragging the pen over the sheet until it bled in thick, blotchy scribbles, tossing that sheet away too.

By the end of your writing session, all you came with was a short note that wasn't worthy of an envelope.

The next issue was getting the note into his possession. You once again rejected the less complicated choice in favor of breaking into his room covertly and leaving it there. Something told you that breaking into his personal space would irritate him less than sending the note into the hands of a third party.

─────────────

Tomura's new room was on the building's top story. He didn't quite care for it; it was Redestro's idea to accommodate him in such a place.

You went to the elevator, avoiding people as much as you could. The occasional greeting was appreciated, but each time, you hoped it remained just a salute and not an invitation to converse. The beaten-down boots you refused to throw away made squeaking noises as you walked down the polished floor.

You wondered why luxurious places had to have all surfaces polished to the point of reflection; after all, you didn't need to scrutinize yourself on everything that caught your eye. The elevator was not better, with a huge, full-length mirror attached to the back. Even if you gave your back to your reflection, you could not escape your mirror doppelganger. The silver-like door of the elevator was as reflective as recently polished silverware.

The sound of the tiny speaker, which indicated you’d reached your destination, took you out of your mind with pre-recorded bells. Stepping outside, you turned your head left and right; no one was around to be a witness. Little did you know, Tomura had said to everyone else that he didn't want people snooping around his room.

You would bet that the massive, thick wood panels that made up the door were custom-built. It surprised you that the doorknob wasn’t locked, but who would dare to break into his room apart from you?

You meant to only leave the note in a place that looked messy so he would notice it and then run away from there as quickly as possible, but you didn't resist the urge to wander around. The room smelled clean in a chemical way—too much bleach. Under that, you could perceive his smell; you remembered it so well.

The room was so tall and went on and on. If you spoke out loud, you knew the echo would answer your words in an eerie whisper. An office space was to your right. The left led to a narrow passage, possibly a bathroom or closet. Who knew?

In front of you, a set of stairs led you to his bedroom. The big, tall, imposing windows gave you an impressive view of the gardens and the city nearby. Now, you were jealous of that view.

Muffled steps startled you when you were about to turn around and finish with this exploration and delivery mission. You didn't even have the chance to try and hide; he was already beside you. He moved like a cat, naturally stealthy; his broken leg had healed long ago.

"Nice view," you muttered, swallowing your surprise.

He hummed in what you hoped was agreement. You didn't lift your head to look at him or move. Trying to control your nerves was costing you all your willpower. Your quirk has never been this useless before.

"I brought you something," you said, lifting the note so he could see it.

"I have paper in the room over there," he said, pointing to the office near the door.

"It’s a note.”

You finally turned to look at him, with his now immaculate white hair surrounding his head like a halo, wearing the three-piece suit he started to use when Redestro convinced him he should dress accordingly to his new position. He appeared so different; even his body language, with a straight, proud back, was not the same.

"A petition," you clarified.

"Is it so important that you had to break into my room?" He inquired, taking the note from your fingers.

"The door was open; I knocked." You shrugged, disregarding his question.

Tomura hoped your important petition was something along the lines of being with him again, not necessarily for sex, not like he would say no if you offered, but he wanted your presence near him again. He didn't want to hear whispers trying to lure him now that he was powerful. Tomura very much would rather listen to you.

He'd done what he thought was right by letting you come to him on your terms, just like you did the first time.

"Whatever it is, I'm fine with it," he said casually.

You frowned at his words. He had to hold his fingers in a fist to keep his thumb from smoothing the lines on the space between your eyebrows and to keep himself from pressing his mouth against yours.

"You should read it." That's all you uttered before walking away. "Goodnight, Tomura," you said when you reached the door, then you disappeared.

─────────────

The knocking on your door woke you up with a start, activating your quirk as you took your first conscious breath. The person outside your door must've felt the buzzing of your quirk because they immediately said:

"Sorry to wake you up, Ms. Y/l. Mail."

Why the fuck didn't they just slide it in under the door? You wondered as your eyes darted to the clock on your nightstand at 6:00 a.m. It read neon green numbers.

Throwing a robe over your shoulders reluctantly, you retrieved your quirk, a headache already blooming behind your eyes. A man in an ironed uniform was before you with a warm smile. He gave you an envelope unceremoniously.

"Thanks," you mumbled to the man, and he bowed, ending the awkward interaction.

You knew what this was, even if the envelope was blank and unsealed. Tomura must have trusted people in no way would tamper with his things, or maybe he heedlessly didn't care. With shaky fingers, you pull out the folded paper inside the envelope to find a single word written hastily in the center.

Approved.

Officially, you were no longer Co-commander Y/n. The responsibility you had never asked for had been taken from your shoulders. You could feel a smile starting to appear on your lips. In any case, you weren't a fighter in the first place; in Tomura's words, when you first met, you were support.

─────────────

Tomura regretted not stopping you from leaving his room.

When he had read the message to the end, he turned it into dust. Is that what you truly wanted to do? Striding to the office, he had not even bothered to visit before.

He told himself that he had more important things to do and that he didn't have time to ponder the reasons why you thought the way you did. He needed to demolish civilization and prepare his body to accept AFO. A single word was enough of an answer.

The paranormal liberation front was inconsequential; disposable pieces turned pawns on his chessboard. He trusted his league enough to let them complete all the planning for the upcoming attacks on heroes, and Dabi to deal with the spy.

You were not indispensable anyway. Absolutely not. Even when he caught himself thinking about you. Tomura had no time to lose; he had a war to win. He was the mass-destruction weapon that would tip the scales in their favor.

The next reunion was private, with just the co-commanders present. Before Tomura entered the conference room, all eyes were on the empty chair that belonged to you. Himiko looked at Spinner questioningly, but he merely shrugged; her guesses were as good as his.

Tomura didn't address it either when the reunion began. He was brief; he was going into the next step, and his body had to turn into the perfect vessel for AFO. He was moving into the hospital of Dr.Garaki that very same day to start with the procedures.

New responsibilities settled on their shoulders. At last, there would be concrete action taken against the heroes—a shift was in the works. It was almost time to document the rebirth of a new world rising from the ashes of devastation.

─────────────

You may have shot yourself in the foot because you grew bored pretty fast. The information came to you the same way it came to everyone else: later, watered-down, and changed. The atmosphere shifted; that was clear. As training got underway, individuals were selected and chosen in a manner distinct from how regiments had previously accommodated their squads.

Now you were under Trumpet's command. You'd trained well enough not to be worried; you knew the reach of your quirk very well; it was advantageous but it was not going to be a major factor in the battle.

You grew fond of the rooftop, as everything in the building was overdone, but the plant pots with exotic-looking greenery offered a feeling of privacy. A girl took care of them—a plant-based quirk, probably; she reminded you of Tomura with a similar hair color and bright red eyes.

Then you felt dumb for searching for him among other people.

You walked up to the roof as you often did on one of your many sleepless nights, and sure enough, it was empty. The chilly air stole a shiver from you, making your eyes water. You ought to have taken a jacket, but you weren’t going to hop into the elevator again. The thought of dropping by Tomura's floor and breaking into his room again was too tempting.

You had no idea what you were going to do there. Would you wait for Tomura to catch you again? That was a bad idea.

Bracing yourself and rubbing the length of your arms, you wander to the edge. From the nearest city, a million tiny artificial stars could be seen. The horizon melded with the sky, joining the real ones. You tried not to think about the fate of those people living their lives.

"I didn't know you liked heights, Lieutenant Y/n." A male voice made you turn your head: Hawks. He was wearing a charming smile.

"As long as I have my feet on something solid..." You answered. “I don’t mind.”

He chuckled like you just said the funniest thing he had heard all day, or as if he were laughing at you.

"How come I don't see you in meetings anymore?" He asked.

You didn't like this guy. Dabi was supposed to deal with him. Allowing a hero in was never a wise decision. The fact that Hawks, the second-ranking hero, disagreed with hero society seemed too good to be true.

"My presence is not required." You said that, placing your index finger over your lips. "Secret missions and all. No one is better than you to get it right?"

"Right, right. Good luck." He said it with a boyish smile.

"Good luck to you too. Surely it must be stressful? If I were to lie in front of the hero commission, I would be under a lot of stress. You're so brave." You could play that game too. Men love flattery, and Hawks seemed like he liked to get his feathers ruffled.

"Rarely a change can be obtained without taking risks," he added as he leaned against the railing. "Just see Shigaraki going and turning himself into a guinea pig."

What? What did he say?

"How do you know that?" Keeping a serene stance rapidly became so much harder.

"Dabi said something like that. I don't have the details, just that Shigaraki is under some kind of procedure," he said, lifting his hand in mock defense. "Didn't you know, Lieutenant?"

"I won't confirm or deny anything." You said, faking a chuckle, fixing a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Right. Secret missions and all.” He said holding your gaze.

That smelled rotten. You served information to the hero on a silver plate. He was not stupid; far from it. Hawks read you like a book, and who knew what you unknowingly admitted or denied? He tricked you in a game you didn’t know you had cards in.

Banging at Dabi's door at 3 a.m. was surely not the plan you had for your night and yet. He opened the door, a threatening blue flame already licking his fingers.

"The fuck you want is 3 a.m.; it can wait until tomorrow."

Ignoring his complaint, you stepped into his room, shoving him inside.

"Why are you giving information about Tomura to Hawks? What does he mean when he says Tomura is turning himself into a guinea pig?" Using your hands to emphasize your statements, you yelled at Dabi.

"Why were you talking to Hawks?" The man answered your question with a question himself.

"It doesn't matter!"

"You didn't know? Shigaraki is not in special training; he's getting inside a tank to get his body ready for something," Dabi said casually, taking fluff off his jacket.

"Why are you telling the hero that? Don't tell me you trust him." It took you a couple of minutes to digest his words. You were starting to get tired of people asking about stuff you might or might not know.

"Look y/n I don't know what you did to Shigaraki to get him to kick you out of the team, nor do I care, but I will tell you this: I don't want your nose up my business; I have the situation under control." He stated this as he approached you, coming to your eye level.

You scoffed. 

"We'll see."

You went back to the hallway just as you were crossing his door frame, ready to walk away. Dabi murmured, "Garaki's Hospital."

You came back, capturing your attention once again.

"That's where Shigaraki is."

"Why are you telling me that?" you asked, lifting your eyebrow.

Dabi was trying to buy your silence by giving you a piece of information he knew you wanted. It was written all over your face, and of course, because he didn't want you rushing around telling everyone else about him disclosing private information to Hawks.

"I have the situation with the hero under control. I know what I'm doing. Don't worry and don’t worry others," he assured you, repeating his words.

"Fine, I won't tell anyone anything, but you must tell me what's going on."

He shook his head and sat on a sofa, male-spreading.

"Not much. I should ask you, Why did the boss give you vacations?"

You shrugged back.

"Reasons" you leaned on the wall, unconcerned about ruining the expensive paper wall; the room had already been marinated in smoke anyway.

"You see, I don't want people up my business, and you don't like people up yours. I'll end it here.” Grinning, he tugged at his charred flesh and said, "I always like you more than the other idiots; you know when to shut your mouth."

"That was a shitty attempt to get into my good side." You replied.

"No like I would gain anything from it" 

It was clear the conversation was over; you should've controlled your feelings. As you walked towards your room, you realized that Dabi had planted a seed inside your mind. In the end, he didn't tell you anything.

He confirmed that Tomura was undergoing some kind of procedure in Dr.Garaki's hospital, though. A dangerous idea was starting to seep into your head.

─────────────

First of all, setting a plan is what you ought to do. Willingly, you stripped yourself of all the power you once had, but that gave you a certain freedom. The PLF's lower ranks were in the thousands, and most of them couldn't point you out. You could go and return as you wish without having people hover over you.

You didn't trust Hawk. He was hiding something, or maybe many somethings. Dabi's judgment wasn't reliable either; he too was hiding something. And you wouldn't care if whatever plan he was putting into action could be the reason everything could go to hell.

Two options danced in your mind. Both were as wild as they could be in their genre.

Getting rid of Hawks by yourself was not only impossible; it was a death wish. For once in your life since you became an adult, you were mad you didn't get a quirk that could be used as a weapon.

Variables in that plan started taking shape. Humans have been killing since they first existed; murder was ingrained in the genes of homo sapiens as much as gathering and art were. Maybe you just have to be creative.

A gun could do the job if you had one or knew how to use one. Poison is a classic, woman's favorite weapon; it is elegant and classy, and if he were as smart as you thought he was, he would never drink or eat anything you served him, which led you to square one.

The second plan was...

So, how difficult could it be to gain access to a secret laboratory hidden beneath a hospital? Assuming Tomura was down there rather than in one of the hundred existing rooms. You didn’t trust that Dabi was telling you the truth; for all you knew, it could be a test.

To see how dumb you were.

To see how fast you were going to be running up that hill toward the hospital, to go and tell the leader that he was giving information to the heroes.

Good thing you didn't care about any of that.

Even if you told Tomura you knew him when he had a thing in mind, nothing else mattered; he would just say something along the lines of "I'm sure Dabi can deal with it" or "I would just kill all the heroes."

Bad thing you cared about Tomura.

─────────────

People underestimate how far you can get if you wear a plain white button-up, jeans, and a security vest. All you have to do is show up as though you've always been there. Getting the vest from the utility closet wasn’t hard; you just had to wait until everyone was training. You were even able to get a forgotten toolbox with the tools still inside. It was just as easy to get outside the building; everyone was so enthusiastic about the plans that were ahead of them, and their minds were so full of ideas that they began to fly out of them like little flies.

You were prepared to get in after securing the toolbox and slipping the bag handles over your shoulder. Hiding in plain sight had always worked for the schemes you'd planned in your head, except in the cases where they didn't. It was time to forget about those.

Walking into the ER, appearing a little disoriented but not too lost, attempting to project the idea that you've done this before and that remembering the precise location you should be in this interminable hospital is simply beyond the cluttered memory of a junior contractor.

A last check at your reflection in the glass door showed you that your disguise is perfect: your clothes are clean but not brand new, and your hair is out of your face but not in a complicated way. The more you appear unremarkable, the better.

The nurse at the reception was typing lazily, lifting her gaze to tap at the forms sitting on the counter for the people demanding medical attention.

"Hello. I'm a little lost, you see. My colleague ought to be in the basement right now, tending to the pipes—the ones in the boiler room, that is. We received your call earlier this week.” The nurse gave you an annoyed expression at first, followed by a relieved, "I'm glad I can get rid of you quickly" look.

"Oh, so silly of me; I'm F/n." You continued conversing as she accepted your outstretched hand. "Could you please tell me how to get there?" You were giggling. Your calm exterior starkly contrasted with the simmering feeling in your stomach.

"You can take the service stairs." The more you studied the nurse, the more tired her face appeared, her dark circles unmasked by the heavy layer of concealer creasing around her eyes. "Next time, use the back door; this is the ER." The woman sighed and waved you away with a flick of her wrist.

"Sure. Sorry, my bad."

And that's how you use overworked health professionals to your advantage. Before the voice got running about the oblivious contractor testing the patience of the ER's nurse, you went to find those service stairs.

The good part about hospitals is that they're always hiring people to fix stuff. You can't risk an immunocompromised patient getting pneumonia due to a lack of warm water. Almost all hospitals have the same layout; the experience you gained from all your years of getting inside places has gifted you with such knowledge.

Of course, in this case, you had to break the first rule: walk as if you knew the place like the back of your hand, but you wanted the alarm to go off. Garaki was a wise man; he knew he had strange things in that basement, which was most likely guarded by some kind of device—a nomu—to keep the outsiders out of his illegal lab, and you wanted to wake it up.

Pushing the heavy door of the service stair landed you into a well-illuminated hallway divided up and down, and down was the cross on your map.

Gasping for breath as you pulled down the last step in the building, the stagnant air provided poor-quality oxygen and dust, leaving you lightheaded. If someone was after you, good luck running all those stairs.

The concrete floor and walls that once were bright white marked the entry of the basement door. Every few turns, you noticed doors with peeling lettering and some with shut locks. You made sure to mismatch your steps as you walked to daunt anyone from hiding their steps with yours. Your quirk was muffling your hearing with white noise—a small price to pay for being untrackable.

Disoriented, you finally found the thing you were looking for: the power gabinet. Gabinet was an understatement; it was huge, with a whole room’s worth of switches and rumbling noises accompanied by colorful LEDs looking like Christmas lights.

Now if you were a real electrician or if you just had any—not even a basic—knowledge of how any of this worked, you would probably be able to pick up where Garaki's lab was, but your plans were far less sophisticated.

You hoped the hospital had an emergency generator for the machinery that kept people alive since you were going to shut everything down. You were like a solar storm, flipping all the switches. You went out and pulled a latch on the door; that should give you a little time.

There it was.

Nomus have blood running inside their zombie veins, but they don't have a heartbeat, so in your head, it translates like turbulence inside a tube. You appeared to have only awoken a few of them. Going against all your self-preservation instincts, you went after the sound, using it as a trail to navigate into the darkness. A flashlight was tucked in the loops of your jeans, but the desire to use it waned as you realized you'd be placing a target on your back.

All you permitted yourself was to navigate with your right hand; the cold tiles ground you, bumping every few centimeters against your fingers in an irregular pattern.

With every step you took, you questioned the flaws in your plan. Underproductive, you were already in the second circle of hell. There was no point in turning away now. No like you would find the stairs back up regardless of whether you tried or not.

More stairs led you down the rabbit hole; they twisted at a ninety-degree angle. A light that gave you a sinister sense made you think that maybe you had already passed away on the stairs at the end of the walk. The light was filtering through the minimal space between the door and its frame. Squinting, you attempted to concentrate to detect a heartbeat on the other side, providing them with your position in a lose-lose scenario that might soon go south.

The person on the other side had a steady heartbeat until they felt the buzzing of your quirk making its way into their head. The pulse quickened, and the door opened.

Red eyes stared at you, astonished.

Or so you thought. The sudden brightness burned your eyes; blotches appeared behind your eyelids. Hissing, you covered one of your eyes with your hand.

"Y/n? What? What exactly are you doing here?" Tomura asked.

"I fancied a walk," you replied, rubbing away the burning sensation from your eyes.

"Y/n..." 

"I was worried. I needed to talk to you. I don't believe Hawks, and I don't think Dabi is doing a good job with him either." Admitting the thoughts inside your mind.

With his arms crossed and lesions that still looked like purple bruises running in strange patterns down his right arm, Tomura reclined on the door frame.

"Maybe if you had not quit, you would be able to solve it." His voice was filled with resentment. "I'm busy" 

"That's beside the point. If Hawks informs the heroes what you're up to, it may mean all of this goes to hell. I'm trying to prevent it."

"Don't worry about it," he said, shrugging. “Dabi can handle it.”

"How am I supposed to not worry if I was able to sneak down here so easily? And Dabi does not handle it well."

Tomura pondered your words for a few moments. He was not in the headspace to worry about the hero and the possibility of his betrayal. Half the time he was under some kind of painful operation, and the remaining half he was too exhausted and drained to worry about chores he had already delegated to his league.

"Make sure it doesn't happen then," Tomura said. "You're smart; keep the hero at bay."

"Too late. Dabi already told him I learned it from Hawks."

Tomura hummed, rubbing his chin.

"Stay with me here. Your quirk should prevent the heroes from tracking me," he continued, wetting his lips. "Keep me hidden."

An anxious perspiration ran down your back as you widened your eyes. "What but..." Tomura cut you off by saying, "I can't leave."

Biting the inside of your cheek. It shouldn't be this difficult to make a decision; it doesn't have to mean anything other than assisting your teammate.

"I'll stay," the voice that encouraged you to go underground urged you once more to stay, “with you.”

Notes: Sorry about any mistake English is not my first language, also I'm bending canon a little lol Next chap is just smut and a little bit of plot then it is only angst and pain from that point jajaja

18+, slurs

this was never supposed to go on for so long! 

you were meant to leave for that damned mission that your dear leader deemed so important nearly an hour ago. but here you were instead, locked in tomura shigaraki's passionate embrace at his office desk while he humped you like a street dog, proving that maybe it wasn't so urgent after all.

you thought he called for you simply to give last-minute instructions and perhaps just a few encouraging words since he was known to be rather unemotional, even with your newfound affection for each other. but this was way more than you bargained for! 

you knew the moment you walked in after closing the heavy door of his makeshift office that something was off. the air felt heavy between you two as he commanded you to come closer, deep red eyes boring into yours with unnatural intensity. before you had time to think about any possible way you could have fucked up, you were pulled into tomura's lap, your full thighs straddling his bony hips snuggly, making his croaky groan resonate through the room. 

"kiss me," he ordered, his voice calm apart from the remains of his still somewhat childish tone. like demanding candy or a pretty toy from a parent. inpatient. your eyes widened at his request, but never the less, you kissed your favourite pair of chapped lips, your heart racing with warmth.

by now, twenty minutes into this lip-sucking, biting, and grinding of your still-clothed cunt on his visibly throbbing boner, you were beginning to feel uneasy. it felt good, of course, especially since you were usually the one craving his attention. but your very boss was making it impossible for you to head out for your designated task, and it was about time you did.

why were you wearing a skirt on a mission again? just as his rough fingers traveled down your ass, curved behind the waistband of your cheeky underwear, and got dangerously close to your pussy, you decided it was time to wrap things up.

"grand c-comander, i- i have to go now; the others have been waiting for some time and-!"

he stopped you from finishing by grabbing your panties a forceful grip and then yanking them up between your pussy lips, making you gasp. his callused thumb moved to press against your clit, rubbing it in tight circles, never releasing the fabric and continuing the torture.

"t-tomura! it hurts!"

"now i'm tomura, huh? so you want to leave your grand commander with blue balls, is that it? hm, lieutenant?" his ivory locks gently fanned against your face as he breathed down your ear sending shivers down to your core. you felt two of his scratchy fingers inevitably stretching the entrance of your dripping cunt as he taunted you.

what was he saying? was your frenzied mind imagining things, or did he really decide to play this title game with his fingers stuffed knuckle deep inside you? oh, if only he would just bend you over his desk so you wouldn't have to think-

"t-toga and dabi-! they are waiting for me, they will know!" you half shouted and half whimpered as his fingers slid past your opening and in and out of you with little warning, his thumb making sure to abuse your poor clit at the fastest possible speed, making you whine. he didn't like what you said, it seemed. 

"is my little slut disobeying me? is that what i'm hearing?"

that was most certainly not true. how could you ever deny him? he was everything to you—your lover, your protector, and your king. you would kamikadze yourself from a cliff if he so desired! he was being so unfair making you choose between the mission and something so irresistible like this!

"o-oh, oh! no, please, pl-!"

feeling his sturdy cockhead bump into your now-exposed pussy slit, so close to brutally stretching you wide, you wiggled and stirred in his lap, the weight and thickness of his shaft making you dizzy. oh, there was no way out of this. he was going to fuck you raw as punishment.

"i don't want to hear that burnt bastard's name while i'm fucking my woman in my office. you hear that?" he hissed, dangerous fingers fisting your hair and pulling you to him, face up close to yours, teeth clenching as his angry bloodshot eyes bored into yours. your insides fluttered around nothing with fear and excitement of what he was going to do to you. he was going to destroy you.

"i am the boss of you. so they will have to fucking wait until i'm done with pumping this needy cunt full of my cum. the only way you're leaving for this mission is with your little hole filled until it spills."

that is, if you can still walk after this.

sakuracream, 2023. don't repost or copy my writing, minors dni.

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 19) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

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-down 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

You pitch forward, but Tomura’s there to catch you, and for a moment, everything’s right where it should be. You’re home. You didn’t leave him. He won’t let you fall. For a single split second, you let yourself believe things will be okay. Then one of Tomura’s hands brushes over an open wound and you cry out. When he pulls his hand back, his palm is shiny with blood. Tomura looks at his hand, then looks at you, and you see his eyes widen – first in horror, then in rage.

“You thought I’d blame them?” he asks his conjurer. “You think I’m weak. You thought I was stupid, too? You’re the one who tried to take my human away.”

He’s trying to put his arm around you, but you’re bloody from shoulder to knee. There’s next to nowhere he can touch that won’t hurt you, and with every second that passes, his anger grows, until he’s practically vibrating with fury. “I wouldn’t dream of taking your human from you,” Shigaraki says to Tomura. “On the contrary, I want to ensure that you keep her forever – without having to make any unnecessary changes to yourself!”

“What?”

Tomura sounds baffled. “Nomu,” you mumble. You seize the hand that’s been searching for a place to hold you and press it to your cheek. “He wants to make me a Nomu.”

“Think about it,” Tomura’s conjurer says. “As a Nomu, she’d be much less breakable. Much less mortal, too. All that effort you’ve put in to understand her – this way, she’d understand you. The process was nearly complete when she left to return to you.”

“Escaped.”

“It wouldn’t take much,” the conjurer says, like you didn’t speak at all. He’s coming closer. “It could be done in a matter of hours. If you wish it.”

“If I wish it,” Tomura repeats. Your blood turns to ice.

“Of course,” the conjurer says. “As I said, I’ve neglected you all these years. I’ll do what I must to make it right.”

Tomura’s thinking about it. Is he thinking about it? You don’t know. “You idiot,” Dabi shouts. “She wouldn’t be your human anymore. She’d be something else, and he’d own her just like he owns you!”

“Look what’s been done to her,” Shirakumo says, his voice low and quiet. “I know what it’s like. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

“Do you truly believe they have your best interests at heart, Tomura?” Shigaraki asks. “They’ll do anything to keep you trapped here, using your power for their own protection. You’ll be a slave to their fear forever. I’m offering you freedom.”

“At a cost.”

It’s Aizawa’s voice. He’s the only human who’s spoken up since you crossed the property line, and he speaks again, his voice perfectly calm. Not to the conjurer. To Tomura. “It comes at a cost,” he says again. “Neither you nor he will be the one to pay it.”

You still have Tomura’s hand pressed against your cheek. He looks at you, then at his other hand, smeared with your blood. You see fury flash in his eyes. Then he turns away, putting his back to the street, pulling you with him. “Spinner,” he says, and Spinner hurries forward. Tomura shifts you from leaning against him to leaning against Spinner. “I need both hands to clear this level.”

He’s not going to give you to his conjurer. He was never going to. Spinner ushers you away, pulling you over to where the noncombatants seem to be huddled – Himiko, Eri, Jin’s youngers siblings. Tomura, meanwhile, materializes fully, cutting off his conjurer’s access to the world between as he starts down the steps. “You were gone too long, Master,” he says. “There’s nothing you have that I want.”

“Yes, come here. Let me see you. I – ugh.” The conjurer makes a disgusted noise. “Now I see where my brother’s spirit went after it ceased to trouble me. You look like him. I’m aware you can’t control how you look when you embody yourself, but – forgive me. It’s quite frustrating.”

“I don’t care who you think I look like.” Tomura stops at the edge of the yard, just prior to the gate. “I’m pretty. My human said so.”

He sounds so proud of himself, and your heart leaps. Even the fact that half your neighborhood is laughing semi-hysterically doesn’t check your joy. You twist in Spinner’s arms, catching a glimpse of the conjurer standing on the opposite side of the gate. He looks horrible. Whatever energy the bracelet released when it broke, it looked like it scalded him, or boiled him, peeling back his skin until his face is nearly devoid of features. He’s looking at Tomura blankly, completely nonplussed. He looks like he doesn’t know what to do.

Finally he clears his throat and speaks again. “You’re quite possibly the most powerful being in this world. Is this – protecting this single neighborhood, and that particular human – truly all you intend to do with it? Is that the extent of your will?”

“No. This is.” Tomura crouches, sets his hands on the ground, and your fence blows apart for the third time this year.

That’s not all that happens. The ground shakes. You feel everything around you ripple and shift, and you hear Dabi swear loudly. Eri and Himiko are both cheering. You look around for answers and find Spinner staring, slack-jawed. “He said he could. I didn’t think he’d actually do it –”

“Do what?”

“Expand the boundaries of his power by force.” Aizawa’s got his gun. “His spirit is still tied to the property, but the entire neighborhood is now within reach of his abilities.”

“That means he can do more to all of them,” Shinsou says. He’s hunkered down with the other kids, but he doesn’t look like he likes it. “Except it means it’s easier for them to get to us, too.”

Jin’s mom steps out of your house. She’s holding a baseball bat and her expression is grim. “Go inside,” she tells her children, and most of them get up and hurry through the door. She looks at you. “Look after them. We’ll do the rest.”

You want to say that you’ll fight, too, but you can barely stand. There’s no way you’ll be anything but a liability. “I can fight,” Himiko protests.

“Me, too!” Shinsou gets to his feet. “We’re way outnumbered. You need us! We can help.”

Aizawa and Jin’s mom trade a glance. “Fine,” Aizawa says. “Himiko, back up Dabi. Shinsou, back up Shirakumo. Don’t engage anyone on your own. Understood?”

Himiko nods and takes off, pulling a knife out of absolutely nowhere. Shinsou casts about for a weapon, picks up a shovel that’s leaning against the house, and takes off, too. With nothing else to do, and Aizawa and Jin’s mom already taking up defensive positions in the yard, you herd Jin’s remaining siblings into the house. Eri’s already inside. She’s in Phantom’s crate, with Phantom. Phantom is whining, a low, continuous sound of distress, but when she spots you, she rockets to her feet, trampling Eri in an effort to get to you. You sink down to the floor, trying to greet her without getting any of your wounds stepped on.

From outside the window, you hear the conjurer’s voice. “Remarkable work, Tomura! But you don’t need to be so gentle with the use of your power.”

“Don’t worry.” Tomura’s voice is flat and icy. “I won’t be gentle on you at all.”

The air temperature plummets, inside the house and outside of it, and you hear the first set of screams rise. You’re seized with a desperation to see the fight, to see Tomura and make sure he’s okay, but you’ve got the kids and Phantom you’re responsible for. You rack your brains, trying to think of where the safest place to hide them will be. Finally you settle on the corner of the room, along the same wall as the front window. No one who peers in will be able to see them easily, and it’s a straight shot from here through the kitchen to the back door in case you need to get out in a hurry. Jin’s siblings, usually raucous, are quiet and scared. Eri’s the most agitated of the group, so you put her in charge of Phantom to give her something to do. And then you drag yourself across the floor again so you can peer out the window.

It looks like someone’s unleashed hell. The scene is eerily lit with flashes of blue fire, and you can see wisps of essence drifting through the air. Too many of them. At least two ghosts are already dead.

You search the battlefield, picking out every live ghost or ghost-adjacent on your side – Shirakumo, Natsu, Nemuri, Dabi, Tomura. They’re all here, although in Tomura’s case, here is a relative term. He’s almost fully materialized, but not quite. That’s not good. He needs to materialize fully if he wants to cut off his conjurer’s access to his power. Does he need to be dematerialized to access his own power? You should have asked, or somebody should have. If he can’t fight –

But he can fight. A ghost comes within reach and Tomura seizes them, blows them apart, adding more shreds of essence to the icy breeze. The next opponent is an embodied ghost. Tomura hits them hard enough to cave in their chest, then tosses them away. He didn’t drain them, even though draining them would have been faster. Why?

“He can’t,” Eri says quietly. “He wants to be like us. If he drains somebody he will be.”

And if he does, his conjurer will kill you all. The others are holding their own in the fight, but when you watch Tomura carefully, you realize that he’s stepping in to save them when they get in over their heads. That’s why he’s not fully materialized. When he’s incorporeal, his reach is longer. He can get to the others before they even know they’re in danger. “Knock it off,” Dabi snaps. “Quit stealing my kills.”

“Be faster, then.” Invisible hands grab Dabi’s current opponent, yank them backwards off their feet, and smash them face-first into the ground. It must be a live ghost, because they explode into a cloud of essence, and they don’t come back. “I’ll do this by myself if I have to.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to,” Hizashi hollers from somewhere out of sight. You can’t see him, but you see dark liquid spray up, and you decide not to think too hard about what it is. “Focus on your own fight! He’s – fuck! Nem, watch out!”

You don’t see what happens, but you see Nemuri sprint through your field of vision, clearly in full retreat. “Quit screwing around! Do it now!”

Tomura materializes fully. You always know when he’s done it, because you always see him stagger slightly when his feet hit the ground. Shigaraki tsks from somewhere nearby. “You think that will save you? Why do you think I brought so many of my friends?” he asks. You feel the ground shake, once and then again. “You can access the world between even while wearing that weak form. Show me what you’re capable of!”

The thing that appears from the shadows is enormous. You’re not sure if it’s a Nomu or just another ghost, but it towers over the rest of them, dwarfing Tomura so badly that he looks like a child’s plaything compared to it. You watch Tomura brace himself, hands outstretched to make contact, but the thing swats his hands aside. Then it seizes him around the waist and clenches its hand into a fist.

You scream in horror. You can’t help it when you see the spray of blood that exits Tomura’s mouth, the way his head falls back, eyes blank and bloody, features gone slack. The monster squeezes harder, then gives a vicious shake, and you swear you can hear his neck snap. Tomura might be the one crushed to death in the monster’s grip, but you’re struggling to breathe. “Tomura –”

Improbably, agonizingly, his head turns in the direction of your voice. Then he dematerializes, leaving the monster with an empty, bloodstained hand.

“He’s okay,” Eri whispers to you, but you don’t believe her. Tomura materializes fully again, just out of reach of the monster, but he looks shaken. You’ve never seen him look like that before. “See, he’s okay! He’s –”

This time, Tomura dodges one of the giant’s hands only to get grabbed by the other. It seizes him with the other hand, too. Then it tears him in half.

He can feel things when he’s materialized. You know that. Some things feel good and some things feel bad, and as you watch the monster destroy his physical form again and again, you’re sick with horror at how much it must hurt. You watch him die three times, five times, twelve times, his limbs torn off, his skull crushed, his body mangled beyond repair. Every time he materializes again whole, he looks worse. Not marked by what’s happened before. Tortured by it, haunted by it, until the monster seizes him and it begins again.

You can’t look away. Some part of you feels like you owe it to him not to. If you can’t help, if all you can do is sit and watch, at least you can let him know you’re here.

The monster throws him to the ground and stomps on him until his body disintegrates into a puddle of tissue and shattered bones, and he doesn’t reappear quickly. Second after second ticks past without him materializing again. Then a familiar rush of cold comes over you, and when you look away from the window, you find Tomura crouched beneath it.

He looks awful, sick and sweaty and pale, and when you reach for him, you can feel how badly he’s shaking. You pull him into your arms and hold on tight, ignoring the bright flare of pain from your wounds when he slumps against you, when he hugs you back even harder. There’s no time for a kiss. There’s not even time to speak. Just a split second of contact that leaves your skin damp with his cold sweat and his shirt stained with your blood, before he dematerializes and reappears outside the house.

The giant swings for him again, but this time it misses – and it misses its second swing, too. Tomura’s gotten his feet under him, and he’s moving faster than he was before, so fast that your eyes can’t track him. It makes your head hurt to try. You squeeze your eyes shut for a split second, only for them to fly open when you hear the sound of glass shattering right next to your head. You open your eyes and find an embodied ghost leering down at you.

You struggle to your feet, trying to stay between the ghost and the kids, trying to figure out how permanent the embodiment is. You strike out towards his face and see him flinch – but he doesn’t blink. Fully embodied, which means you don’t have to worry about being drained, which means you need to fight. You’re not a good fighter by any means, and you’re worse now, courtesy of every other horrible thing that’s happened today. When the ghost strikes at you, you’re too slow to dodge, and he knocks you sprawling across the floor.

You have to get up. The kids. You have to get up so you can protect the kids, but when you try to rise, the ghost kicks you in the ribs and knocks you back again. “Go on,” he says, leering down at you. “Call for help. Call him.”

You seal your mouth shut. If you didn’t scream for Tomura to save you while his conjurer was torturing you, there’s no way you’re going to do it here. The ghost draws his foot back to kick again, only to yelp and stagger as Phantom bites down hard on his other ankle, shaking and snarling until he loses his footing. She’s not the only one trying to help. Eri’s hitting the ghost in every spot she can reach, her tiny fists balled up and her face twisted with rage.

“No!” she shouts. One of her blows catches the ghost in the groin and he nearly falls. That’s your opening. You crawl across the floor, heading for the fireplace and the fire poker hanging from a hook on the wall. “No! You’re not supposed to be here! Go away!”

Her voice rises to a shriek, and you hear an odd, strangled sound. You twist around and freeze, struggling to grasp what you’re seeing. The ghost is – shrinking. From an adult to a teenager to a child to an infant, and finally to nothing, vanishing out of Eri’s grip completely. Eri looks surprised, then pleased with herself. “I didn’t know I could still do that!”

She scrambles across the floor to you and starts patting your head. “It’s okay! I got him! You don’t need that.”

You grab the fire poker anyway, your mind still reeling. “Is that how you – got people before?”

Eri nods importantly. Then her eyes brighten. “I have to go!” she announces, and before you can stop her, she bolts out the front door. “Tomura! I have something for you!”

You want to tell her not to distract him, but then he crashes through the porch roof, sprawled out with wooden spars protruding from his torso, his shoulder, his mouth. He dematerializes, then reappears, and Eri seizes one of his hands. “Here!” she says, and you see something pass from her hand to his. “I helped! Go!”

Tomura nods in thanks and disappears off the porch at lightning speed, while you pour all your energy into getting ahold of Eri and pulling her back inside. Eri goes willingly. “I have to tell Himiko,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut. “Maybe she can do it too.”

You vaguely remember Hizashi saying something about how Eri had massive untapped powers as a ghost. Somehow she figured out a way to pass off a human-sized dose of life-force to Tomura without requiring him to drain anybody, and when you peer out the broken window, you see Hizashi dart past the giant as it pursues Tomura, slapping Tomura in the back of the head on the way. Tomura turns to snarl at him, but when he steps back out of the giant’s range, he’s notably faster. Hizashi can still drain people, maybe. But there’s another live ghost in the equation who can do the same, and Nemuri dips in next, tapping Tomura’s shoulder before dematerializing.

You don’t see where she goes, but the giant staggers, howling in pain. You look to Eri, wondering if she knows. “He’s a Nomu,” she says by way of explanation. “She’s in his heart.”

You remember what Rumi did to the conjurer’s henchman she caught and feel like you’re going to be sick. The giant reaches into its own chest, trying to remove Nemuri, and blood oozes out, spattering the grass, the fence, everyone fighting in the yard and on the street. It stumbles, then stumbles again, and its shadow falls over your house.

If it falls on you, you’re all dead. “Get out of there!” Aizawa shouts. You yell for the kids, grab Phantom, and bolt into the yard once the others are out.

Nemuri and Tomura have gone from trying to kill the giant to trying to stop it from crushing the house, and the two Nomu jump in to help. For a second you’re confused about why they’d want to protect the house at all, but then you remember that even with extending his power over the neighborhood, Tomura’s still strongest inside the property line. If the house is destroyed, there’s nothing at all to stop the conjurer from coming through.

Where is the conjurer, anyway? A chill that’s got nothing to do with the high concentration of ghosts in the area runs down your spine. You turn just in time to see the conjurer step through your front gate.

Aizawa spots him, shoots him, his aim solid even with one eye. But Tomura’s incorporeal, pushing the boundaries of his power to try to contain the falling giant, which means the conjurer shrugs off the shot like it’s nothing. Then he slips into the crowd, weaving in between the combatants, making it impossible for Aizawa to shoot him without the risk of hitting someone on your side. Aizawa snarls, turns to deal with another opponent, and you set off.

You take the kids to hide. There aren’t very many good places to hide, but anywhere the giant isn’t is a good place to be. You find Keigo and tap his shoulder just after he’s finished knocking out an embodied ghost, leaving them easy prey for Natsu. In retrospect this wasn’t your brightest idea. He swings a crowbar at your head and almost knocks you out, checking his swing at the last minute. “Don’t do that! Why are you walking around? You should be –”

“I need you to take them and help them hide.” You gesture at the children. “In your house. I don’t know. Just get them out of here.”

Keigo stares at you. “And what are you going to do?”

“I have to get to him. The conjurer.” Your legs go weak when you think about what you’re planning to do, but you lean on the fire poker and stay on your feet. “I’m the only one he has a reason not to kill. I can get close. If I time it right –”

Keigo doesn’t need you to finish the sentence. He nods and turns to the kids. “We’re gonna cross the street and go hang out at my place, okay? Let’s go.”

Eri hesitates, but she eventually follows Keigo and Jin’s siblings. You force yourself upright, tighten your grip on the fire poker, and start off through the crowd in search of Tomura’s conjurer.

You’ll only get one strike to bring him down. It’ll have to do the job, and courtesy of Garaki, whatever inhibition you had against hitting another person with the intent to kill them is long gone. All you have to do is picture what’s happened to Tomura since Shigaraki got here, and you see red. One hit to stun him, and then as many more as it takes, until he’s dead and Tomura’s safe and this is over for good.

Shigaraki must be trying to stay hidden. With Tomura materialized for most of the fight, his conjurer’s access to the world between is cut off, which means he won’t be able to defend himself if one of the Nomus on your side comes for him. You can’t defend yourself, either. Where would you hide?

The house. The house is the best shelter there is if one isn’t worried about the giant, and the conjurer probably thinks you’re still in there. You look towards the house and spot him climbing the front steps. His back is to you. Tomura’s materialized, darting around the back of the house to evade the giant. Now’s your chance. You renew your grip on the fire poker one last time and set off at an unsteady run, ducking around fights where you’re beneath the combatants’ notice. Originally your plan was to hit him in the head, just like you did to Garaki, but as you close the distance between the two of you, you realize that you don’t have the strength or the balance for a swing. There’s a sharp point on the fire poker. That’s what you’ll use.

You remember thinking, when you were deciding how to attack Garaki, that you couldn’t stab someone. That’s changed. You make it two steps up the short staircase to the porch, lose your footing, and fall forward against the conjurer’s back, getting your makeshift spear into position just in time. Your momentum does most of the work. The fire poker stabs into the conjurer’s back, sinking in to the base of the spike. You apply the last of your strength and shove it the rest of the way, fighting the resistance of muscle and bone until you’ve run him through.

Blood gushes from the wound, soaking you all over again, and Shigaraki Akira lets out a pained grunt. It’s a much quieter sound than you’d make if you’d just been stabbed, and it’s the first sign that something’s gone wrong. The next is when the handle of the fire poker is yanked out of your grasp, pulled into the conjurer’s body. He’s pulling it through, hand over hand, until it exits his body on the other side.

You stumble, losing your footing, and fall backwards down the steps as Shigaraki Akira turns to face you, fire poker in hand. Blood is running from his mouth, but he’s smiling at you, and as you watch in terror, the wound in his chest closes completely. “Excellent try, but your timing was poor,” he says. He tosses the fire poker down the steps to clatter at your feet. “Why not try again?”

You should. Just because Tomura was incorporeal when you stabbed Shigaraki this time around doesn’t mean he will be the next time, but when you reach for the fire poker, you can’t close your fingers around it. The hard landing feels like it’s jarred some circuit loose in your brain, and you can barely move. The pain’s flooding back in, too, and suddenly you’re struck by the futility of it all. Even if you pick it up, even if you fight again, you’ve lost the element of surprise. He’s bigger and stronger than you. You don’t see how you can do anything but lose.

Shigaraki leers. “You spent all your will on one strike,” he says. He’s coming down the steps towards you. You shuffle backwards, but not fast enough. “Shimura’s farewell gift helped you escape my purpose for you before, but it won’t do so again. This won’t take but a moment.”

He reaches down and seizes you around your throat, hauling you to your knees one-handed. His other hand reaches out and snags a passing ghost, yanking them out of their embodiment in a single smooth movement. You can see the spirit twisting in his grip as his hold on you shifts, forcing your head back and your mouth open. “It’s a shame Rumi escaped. She would have suited you and Tomura better,” he says. You bite down on his fingers to no effect, and he grips your jaw tighter in response. “But this will do. Don’t struggle, now. There’s no need when you’ve given up already. Just – swallow.”

Something cold brushes your lips, then the back of your tongue, something that squirms and wriggles horrendously as it tries to escape. You raise your arms and try to pry the conjurer’s hand off your jaw, but his grip is iron, and it’s getting hard to breathe. He’s going to force the ghost down your throat, turn you into a Nomu, and you won’t be you anymore – and there’s nothing you can do. You can’t pull his hand free. You’re reduced to scratching at his knuckles as you choke on the ghost he’s trying to bind to you.

His grip on your jaw tightens past the point of pain. “Don’t struggle,” he instructs you again. “Just –”

Something plows into him from one side, moving too fast for you to track it. You sprawl out on the ground, coughing up what little essence you were forced to swallow, and the ghost he was trying to force-feed to you vanishes in a split second. You’d run if you could, too. Instead you struggle to pick your face up out of the dirt to see what’s happened to the conjurer.

The giant’s gone and Nemuri is nowhere to be found, but Tomura’s on his feet. He’s standing over the conjurer, eyes blazing but curiously blank. His shirt hangs in tatters. His blue-grey hair’s gone white. The very air around you is crackling with the evidence of his power.

The conjurer looks at him, what’s left of his mouth curving into a broad smile. “Well done, Tomura,” he says. “You’ve claimed your power at last. Dispense with the others.”

Tomura doesn’t move, but all around you, enemy ghosts and Nomus burst apart into clouds of essence, until the entire neighborhood hangs under a heavy fog. The only ghosts left are the permanently embodied ones, who promptly bolt. Tomura lets them go. The conjurer gets to his feet, grimacing slightly, but once he’s standing, he smiles for Tomura. “Now put an end to all of this,” he says. “Destroy the house.”

Tomura looks towards the house. He extends one hanz, and for a moment, you’re convinced he’ll destroy it. The conjurer’s right – it was a prison. Maybe it’s always been a prison to him, even if it was home to you. Then a vicious smile comes to Tomura’s face. He turns away from the house and seizes his conjurer by the throat. “I think I’ll destroy you.”

His conjurer doesn’t answer. That smile is still on his face, and you see Tomura’s eyes widen in surprise a moment later. He’s materialized. His conjurer has no access to the world between through him. So why is he hesitating? You see something crawling across the conjurer’s skin and blink hard as you try to get a handle on it. When you realize what it is, your stomach turns.

It’s essence. Tomura’s conjurer is covered in clouds of ghostly essence. Was he always like that? No, you would have noticed during the time he spent torturing you. You were out of it, but not enough to miss something like that. You see Tomura frown, shake his head. A wave of cold sweeps through the neighborhood, instantly coating everything in a sheen of frost and ice, but the conjurer only laughs. “You’ve already broken them. They can’t be blown apart smaller than this, and the neighborhood is full of the remains of your enemies. Even if you could destroy them, I’ll always have more.”

The scraps of essence are beginning to move, crawling over Tomura’s hand, and he draws back, revulsion on his face. The conjurer gestures, and the fog you saw hovering over the neighborhood descends. Where it touches a ghost, embodied or not, they recoil. When it touches a human, like you, the cold begins to burrow through your skin. You’ve got a lot of open wounds. It doesn’t have far to go before it hits bone.

You don’t want to scream, but as the cold begins to writhe beneath your skin, you can’t help it – and you’re not the only one. Human or Nomu or ghost, it doesn’t matter. Whether the scraps of essence trigger a response of disgust or agony, all you and the others can do is scream for it to stop, and the conjurer’s voice rises above it all. “This stops when you decide it does, Tomura. You can’t destroy me the way you wish to. Destroy the house, and I’ll let them go.”

“No, you won’t.” Tomura looks miserable. “I can see inside your head. You won’t let them go as long as you think you can control me with them. I know what you think I won’t do.”

“If you do what I ask of you, you’ll find I’m very reasonable,” Shigaraki Akira says. “I’ll have no reason to hurt them if you comply.”

But he will. Every time he thinks Tomura won’t do what he wants, he’ll hurt you all until Tomura bows to his will. The question of whether Tomura cares about the neighborhood has been settled for good – he does care. Enough that he’d give in to his conjurer to protect you all. “I don’t believe you,” Tomura says. His hand closes around his conjurer’s throat again. “And I’ll destroy you however I have to.”

Garaki had the chance to speak, but Shigaraki Akira doesn’t. You see a split second of shock on his misshapen features before he begins to disintegrate at the throat.

It’s fast and mercilessly simple. Tomura drains his conjurer to death at lightning speed, scattering essence into the air, and as the empty set of clothes falls to the ground, you see Tomura’s feet touch the mostly-dead grass in your front yard. There’s the little stagger he always does when he lands, like he’s not quite used to being on solid ground. And then the world begins to bend and warp around him, midair tearing open just behind him. A rush of cold sweeps over you again, a thousand times worse than anything you’ve felt from Tomura or any other ghost. It’s the world between. It’s pulling him back in.

Tomura’s body begins to fray, strips of skin peeling off and being sucked into the rift behind him, a moment before it yanks him off his feet entirely. In a split second he’s nearly swallowed whole. All that’s left of him is one hand reaching out, grasping uselessly at the air, seeking something, anything, to hold onto.

You move without conscious thought. You throw yourself forward and seize Tomura’s hand in both of yours, one hand closing around his palm and the other around his wrist. You don’t know if you can stop this. If there’s any way to stop this at all. But you know for a fact that you’re not going to let go of him. Wherever he goes, you’re going there, too. Tomura’s hand grips yours just as tightly. His knuckles have gone white. And his hand is warm.

Another set of hands covers yours and you nearly jump out of your skin. When you look to your right, you find Spinner crouched next to you. He gives you a strained smile and tightens his grip on you, and on Tomura. “You gotta hang on,” he shouts at Tomura. “I heard there’s a shiny Giratina in the new Pokémon game.”

You almost laugh. You would laugh if you couldn’t feel the cold leaking out of the world between. Another set of warm hands closes onto you, one around your wrist, one reaching further up Tomura’s arm. Himiko’s teeth are bared, either smiling or snarling – you’re not sure which. “Don’t you dare let go,” she says – to Tomura, not to you. “Your human will never forgive you, and neither will I!”

The pull of the world between is getting stronger. It’s dragging on Tomura, and now it’s dragging you, Spinner, and Himiko, pulling you closer to the breach. “Oh no you don’t,” a voice says sweetly, and someone grabs you and Spinner around the waist at once. Magne’s grip is strong as she hauls you both backwards. “Jin, honey, you too!”

Jin is holding onto you and Himiko. He’s pulling hard. With their help, you’re no longer losing ground to the world between – but you’re not making progress, either, and your hands are starting to go numb. An agonized howl issues from somewhere within the rift and your blood turns to ice. He’s hurt. This is hurting him. You have to get him out of there.

You open your mouth to call for help, but before you can, the air is unceremoniously forced out of your lungs as someone bearhugs you from behind. “Hold on,” Kurogiri instructs – not Tomura, but you. Tomura’s nails are scrabbling at the inside of your wrist, but you’re so cold you can barely feel them. “We will do the rest.”

Only Tomura’s forearm was visible before. Now his elbow and his upper arm are free of the rift. There’s another scream from inside it. Someone scurries past you, much closer to the rift than you thought anyone would dare to go, and grabs Tomura by his upper arm. “Pull together,” Atsuhiro shouts at the rest of you, as ice begins to spiral up from the spot where his hands are wrapped around Tomura’s bicep. “Now!”

Tomura’s shoulder emerges from the rift, but even as you pull him free, his grip on your hand is weakening. You tighten yours in response. “Hang on,” you beg him. “Come on, don’t do this. Hang on!”

Another yank and his head is free, but something’s wrong. He’s not conscious. His head is hanging forward, his hair in his eyes, and even when you say his name, he doesn’t stir. You keep pulling, and so does everybody else, but once you’ve freed his torso, the world between fights back. Even with all seven of you struggling to free him, you can’t win. Tomura’s hand is almost entirely limp in yours.

Himiko notices, too. She raises her voice. “Help!”

Who’s going to help you? Everybody who’s ever shown they care about Tomura is already here, fighting to steal him back from the world between. You know Aizawa won’t intervene. You wouldn’t be surprised if Hizashi tried to push Tomura back in. Who’s left? Keigo’s watching the kids. You don’t know where Nemuri is. Jin’s mom – Natsu – nobody. This is who you have. You’re not enough.

“Fuck,” Dabi explodes from somewhere behind you. You barely have time to tighten your grip on Tomura before a pair of burning-hot hands lock onto your forearm and haul you backwards.

You can smell your own flesh burning, but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters, because eight of you are enough. One final yank, all of you pulling together, and Tomura tears free of the rift, falling forward into the pile of rescuers and landing mostly on top of you.

“Ew, he’s naked!” Himiko scrambles backwards, and everybody else follows, as you shift Tomura off of you and onto his back. He’s definitely naked, whatever remained of his clothes torn away in the effort to free him from the world between, and his body’s a mess. There are patches of burns and frostbite, bleeding fractures in his dry skin, his lips split and bloody. His eyes are closed. He’s not moving.

“Tomura.” You shake his shoulder, gently at first, then with increasing desperation. “Please. Please wake up.”

His skin is warm. He’s permanently embodied. He’s alive, or he was. You feel for a pulse at his neck, but you don’t know enough about taking pulses to know if you’re even touching the right spot, and your fingers are still numb. Is his chest rising and falling? Your eyes are so blurry with tears that you can barely see, and you blink hard, trying to clear them away. A few droplets roll down your face to splatter on Tomura’s shoulder, his cheek. You keep shaking him, fighting to hold in a sob. You’re injured. You’re in pain. The cold of the world between is in your bones, and none of it hurts as badly as the thought that you’ve lost Tomura for good.

You’re so busy shaking him that you barely notice when he stirs, but you can’t fail to notice the hand that rises, first to brush at his face, then to awkwardly wipe under your eyes. Even then, it barely registers. You think you’re imagining it, that you wished so hard your mind told you it was true. “Don’t leave,” you say, the same words you’ve heard him say so many times. “I need you. Don’t leave me. I –”

“Stop crying on my face.” His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it, but it’s his. You’d know it anywhere. “Don’t be stupid. I’m right here.”

It’s not a dream, or a wish come true. If everything was exactly as you wanted it, the second sentence out of Tomura’s mouth after he embodied himself wouldn’t be “don’t be stupid”, so that’s how you know it’s real. Tomura’s alive. He defeated his own conjurer. He saved everyone. And you, with a whole lot of help from the neighborhood he’s always pretended he hates – you saved him.

It’s okay now. It’ll be okay. You get a split second of pure happiness and relief before the pain floods in, and for the first time since you were dragged out of the conjurer’s torture chamber, your mind gives up the ghost. Tomura’s crimson eyes, staring up into yours, are the last thing you see before everything goes black.

I haven't really been in the posting mood recently but I feel like I'm sleeping on the picture so I'm gonna post it even though I'm unmotivated. I hope you like it, I had a lot of fun coloring it. 🩷🩷🩷

Line art and base color.

oh thank you ! Now it seem logical 😅 thanks

📸 Self-Ship Photo Scavenger Hunt! 🎞

The idea of this is to appreciate little details/moments of your f/o! This works best with live-action F/O’s but any visual media is ok! Askers send you an F/O and an emoji and you have to…

👁 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s eye/eyes!

🗣 Post a screenshot of your f/o in profile/side view!

👄 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s mouth!

🤚 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s hand(s)!

🥺 Post a screenshot of your f/o where they’re emotional.

🎉 Post a screenshot of your f/o where they’re smiling/laughing/having a good time.

🕴Post a screenshot of your f/o small in the distance/the background of a shot.

👞 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s shoes.

👔 Post a screenshot of your f/o in a different outfit than usual.

🤪 Post a screenshot of your f/o making a silly face.

🏃 Post a screenshot of your f/o on the move.

✏️ Post a screenshot of your f/o doing their job.

🔥 Post a screenshot of your f/o looking tough.

🌸 Post a screenshot of your f/o looking cute.

😳 Post a screenshot of your f/o that flusters you.

❓ Post a weird/funny/confusing screenshot of your f/o with no context.

As a bonus, gush about the screenshot in the caption (you know you want to) - and please practice inbox karma if you can 😌

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko/Reader Characters: Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Reader, Takami Keigo | Hawks Additional Tags: Yandere Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Quirkless Reader (My Hero Academia), Voice Kink, Hand & Finger Kink, Porn With Plot, Eventual Smut, really more like a smattering of smut here and there between therapy sessions (and sometimes during), Sexual Frustration, Touch-Starved, Choking, Canon-Typical Violence, Soft Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, not all the time but sometimes, Shiggy is a thighs and ass man I decided, wants to grab reader's ass and massage her thighs and rub his cheeks between them, Mutual Pining, Psychologist!Reader, Prisoner!AU, Shiggy gets therapy, it's giving harleen quinzel falling for joker vibes, you are too curious for your own good, Possessive Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, no beta so please be gentle with me senpai Summary:

Somewhere in the process of analyzing him, you realized that red wine gaze was starting to go to your head. By that point however, you were half-drunk already, settled in the palm of his hand.

Omg i loveeee this fic !

Give Your Heart a Break - Chapter 2 Tomura Shigaraki x reader series

You can find chapter one here

Notes: So I want to clarify that in this fic, a major theme about Tomura's story is that he suffers from a lot of untreated mental illness. I'm representing him as someone who's undiagnosed Bipolar, but also experiences symptoms that boarder schizophrenia, such as the voices he hears and he'll eventually have a psychotic episode at some point in this story. I know this feeds the "Bipolar and psychotic people are evil" stereotype, but I have these mental illnesses and see Shigaraki as someone who could very much have untreated Bipolar disorder (type 1 specifically), regardless. Most anime characters aren't written to be bipolar lol but I have a list of reasons why I think he has the potential to be. Maybe I'll make a post about it someday.

Summary: Tomura is so goshdarn determined to find his lil gamestop crush and thanks to him conveniently seeing her debit card he casually stalks her on the internet

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact, cliffhanger, mildly dark content, internet stalking, creepy Tomura, Tomura and y/n only talk over the internet in this chapter, i wrote Tomura's thoughts but it's not from his direct POV. They are highlighted in blue, like chapter 1 Tomura hears voices and sometimes they can be nasty - they are highlighted in red, Shigaraki is kind of soft in this fic, very scott pilgrim kind of humor, edgy and derogatory humor but it's satirical, Tomura has his English Dub's voice (pre Paranormal Liberation Front), not proofread yet

Notes About Reader:

everything from chapter 1 applies

she/her pronouns

relatively active on social media but makes content private

reader is a WEIRDO

I made the reader's username mine lol

As said, she's very based off of me

reader experiences unspecified mental illness and has been to a psych ward in her past

she laughs very easily

"*your full legal name*"

Tomura considered the possibility that you may be using someone else's card or that you didn't go by your legal name but he was sure it was a decent place to start. His heart was racing so hard to find out who you are. He wasn't sure what struck a chord in him when he saw you. He supposed it was cuz you're pretty, but he really didn't know anything about you other than you're spooky, like anime, and like his hair.

He immediately started searching for your name on his phone. It wasn't hard to find your Facebook, though your privacy settings didn't let him see much other than profile pictures. You seemed somewhat outgoing from what he could tell.

There was a directory about you online, and he guessed it was you based on your age and location (he saw your location on FB lol). Now he knew your address..

the internet is so nice to him sometimes :)

It took him a little bit of digging but he found your other socials outside of Facebook. All private, though. Fuuuck.

Fuck it, follow.

Tomura never showed his face on his socials and never ever ever put his name. She wouldn't know it was him.

"But now she has to approve it :("

*bugsinmybrain accepted your follow request*

:)))))

Tomura swore that he felt as if he had unlocked a fucking treasure chest. You were so very flashy, that's for sure. A lot of pictures of you, decorated with some cute stickers that were edited in, or surrounded by anime dudes.

"Tenko"

"Fuck off."

From what he could tell, you were a geek. Very nerdy and interested in things, though that wasn't a bother to Tomura. He was a fan of a lot of shit. You were also very pretty. He then stumbled on some posts you'd made about heroes. How you thought their system was corrupted and that they'd neglect people and dismiss those who they thought were worth sacrificing. Mmm, you're speaking his language.

You didn't appear to be any kind of villain, you couldn't be so outgoing on the internet if you were, but you were certainly feisty.

He wanted to message you. He knew it would be weird and he didn't want to creep you out, but god he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know more about you. To be honest, he really wanted you to give him your undivided feminine attention. When you spoke with him at GameStop he felt warm. Love at first sight? Possibly. Is he that much of a fool?

His social anxiety made him almost want to watch you outside your window before messaging you online anonymously. rrr.

"whatever."

him: hey, do you remember the blue haired guy from GameStop?

you didn't answer for two hours.

Tomura tried to not care if you responded or not but he was boiling hot and itching anxiously, wondering if you had actively ignored him. But you didn't unfollow or block him, he checked many times.

her: omg yea

!!!

him: is your name (y/n)? that's what your card said. sorry thats creepy af but i kinda wanted to talk to you so I looked you up.

He wasn't even attempting to not be a stalker at this point. What else was he supposed to say? There's no way to cover the fact that he has a crush on you or something.

her: yea that's me. i noticed you peaked at my name so it's ok lol. what's your name?

"fuck"

he wasn't supposed to say anything like that online. He's a piece of shit, yea, but a part of Tomura didn't want to lie.

"Tenko"

That's a name he heard often. For the last couple of years he began experiencing frequent auditory hallucinations. Hearing "Tenko" was one of them. Sometimes they'd tell him to stop or scream at him or strangely enough, they'd be calm and nurturing to him. It drove him crazy sometimes.

Whatever.

him: Tenko

her: why did you want to talk to me?

him: that's an awkward question

her: why?

him: i guess it's not. you look cool and said shit about hating heroes. is that a good enough reason?

her: LMAO

i suppose

him: do you play any video games? I saw you go to the anime section...

"She'll know that I was creeping on her"

*deletes that last sentence*

him: do you play video games? you came into gamestop after all lol

her: i play but i'm not very good at any of them

"of course she isn't"

him: what games do you play?

her: league of legends

him: omg are you kidding me?

her: no

him: do you wanna play with me? like. right now?

her: sure??

score.

You were trash at league. But somehow it was charming seeing you try your best, though your efforts were very frugal. Normally seeing someone so bad in his game would make Tomura pissed but he gave you a pass. At the moment, he was more worried about getting to know you than the game itself. So he tried all he could to get you to talk, he loved your voice.

"I'm going to assume you're very new to this?"

"Yea."

"How new?"

"I've been playing for maybe 3 months."

"That long and you're still shit?"

"I know I suck," you say defensively. As if you could hear the things in his head.

"You kind of do, not going to lie."

It wasn't long after that you got essentially gangbanged by three enemy players with no hits back.

"FUCK"

The loud cussing in his headphones made Tomura jump, but he couldn't help but start to chuckle violently.

"Feisty bitch ain't she?"

"She wants to suck your cock."

"Shut up..." Tomura growled under his breath.

"Did you just tell me to shut up??" You ask, though chuckling while you did.

"What? No, no. Sometimes I just have really bad thoughts that come out of nowhere. I have to like.."

"Tell them to be quiet?"

"yup."

"I've done that. Like actually, though. I'll just start thinking of the most wacked out thing, and it comes out of no where. Sometimes I knock on my head to get rid of them, hah."

I guess a spooky looking gal like you being mentally ill isn't a surprise to him. Your ability to relate to his situation was still comforting, though. Especially because he almost expected you to get uncomfortable when he told you about having "bad thoughts." Some girls may think a freaky looking dude like him having "bad thoughts" meant that he was some homicidal villain.

oh wait

"Really? I've had it happen to me all my life, but for the last two years I've like...heard voices, I guess? Sometimes the thoughts aren't even thoughts, they just happen. And I'll hear them, in voices that aren't mine. Also forget all of that, I'm normal and you're very bad at league."

The giggle that erupted from you shot an infestation of butterflies inside his chest. You seemed to think he was very funny, which is something that frankly turned him on. Throughout your call he was able to make you snicker from saying the dumbest shit. He prayed you weren't just faking it.

"It's ok. You'd be surprised how common that is. Doesn't make it any easier though, I'll say that," you reply, hoping to ease his nerves. You could tell even over voice call that while he spoke very easily about his hallucinations, he had a level of shame for them.

"No. It doesn't. Who made you a psychiatrist, anyways?"

"My six stays at the psych ward maybe," you retort.

"sexy."

"Excuse me, Tenko?"

Oh right. That's his name right now. Fuck, he wanted to see you in person. He felt like he'd be able to be more of an open book that way. He'd still need a story though, fake name or not. You probably thought you were just talking to some geeky gamer boy with blue hair and possible schizophrenia, but little did you know, you were talking to a facilitator of multiple acts of mid-level terrorism. Hey, but if it was all in the name of "Fuck Heroes" maybe you'd still laugh at his jokes.

"Sorry that wasn't very feminism of me was it?"

"No, it wasn't" you said as you wheezed in laughter.

"You like my edgelord jokes, don't you?"

You kept laughing, now somehow he had pulled a couple of snorts out of you too.

"fat pig."

"Want to take a trip to 2016? I bet Leafy would love to make fun of autistic 12 year old's with you."

He swore that you were probably crying from how hard you were laughing. He wished he could see you on camera right now, but hearing you blow out his ear drums with your annoying yet adorable little laugh was good enough for now.

"Am I going to have to come resuscitate you?" Tomura cackles, now feeling himself starting to laugh.

"Your voice is cute."

"Liar."

"I'm not!"

"Someone once told me I sound like I'm a prison bitch cuz of how hoarse my throat is."

"wow."

"Done with the jokes, got it."

"I know, right?"

"I just think it's cute, you're very expressive."

*this is Tomura right, now by the way*

"Does that mean that uh..you think I'm cute?" he pesters with the widest smile on his face, though you couldn't see.

*que jeopardy music*

Goodness, you certainly had a girlish charm with the way your mellow voice would start chirping with laughter. He didn't think flirting should've been this easy, but you were very impressionable.

"It it ok to say yes?" you asked sheepishly over call.

"Ehehehe~!!!" Tomura squealed, mocking your giggles.

"Shut up!"

"Am I going to have to come and rescue you? You sound like you're running out of air," he asked almost genuinely, as he held back a cough.

"Do it, pussy, you won't."

"Oh really?"

"Uh-huh."

"Would you be mad at me if I told you I know where you live?"

"Excuse me?"

"Not my fault. Blame yourself for being an on-the-grid person. The internet is dangerous, didn't you know?"

"Are we officially stalker-stalkee now?" you joked.

"Yea but my hair is blue and my voice is cute so it's ok if I stalk you, right?"

"Oh my fucking god."

"So, can I come see you?"

"Huh?"

"In person. I could be there in like half an hour. You live near me."

"Tenko, it's 10pm."

"Would you get in trouble? Do you live with parents or something?"

"Yea."

"I could pick you up and we could walk back to my place."

Now, dear readers, would you accept such an offer from a complete stranger at almost midnight, absolutely alone with him? After he has admitted to lowkey stalking you? You shouldn't!

However, we, the reader, are ignorant to common sense when we receive the slightest crumb of positive (?) male attention.

"Sure."

"teeheehee!!" Tomura teases. "Keep your eyes pealed, then. Thirty minutes, okay?"

"omg i guess."

"omg ok, what flavor of Monster do you drink?"

Can soemone explain me ? What's an f/o ? God ibmist sound stupid...but i still have some english stuff that i don't get at all 😅

📸 Self-Ship Photo Scavenger Hunt! 🎞

The idea of this is to appreciate little details/moments of your f/o! This works best with live-action F/O’s but any visual media is ok! Askers send you an F/O and an emoji and you have to…

👁 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s eye/eyes!

🗣 Post a screenshot of your f/o in profile/side view!

👄 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s mouth!

🤚 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s hand(s)!

🥺 Post a screenshot of your f/o where they’re emotional.

🎉 Post a screenshot of your f/o where they’re smiling/laughing/having a good time.

🕴Post a screenshot of your f/o small in the distance/the background of a shot.

👞 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s shoes.

👔 Post a screenshot of your f/o in a different outfit than usual.

🤪 Post a screenshot of your f/o making a silly face.

🏃 Post a screenshot of your f/o on the move.

✏️ Post a screenshot of your f/o doing their job.

🔥 Post a screenshot of your f/o looking tough.

🌸 Post a screenshot of your f/o looking cute.

😳 Post a screenshot of your f/o that flusters you.

❓ Post a weird/funny/confusing screenshot of your f/o with no context.

As a bonus, gush about the screenshot in the caption (you know you want to) - and please practice inbox karma if you can 😌

Yay !

Chapter two of the shiggy x reader series will be delayed a bit but it is in progress!!

Omg omg omg why is this description of the reader so accurate to me imma die (die in pure happiness :bluargg)

Have you heard the song “give your heart a break” by Demi Lovato imagine that as a cute love story for Shigaraki with the female reader?

(I was thinking about just using the song as a story title and then use your imagination and get creative with whatever you choose and just have fun with it?😅)

Give Your Heart a Break - a soft Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader series

CHAPTER 1 (Minors Don't Interact)

Notes: You asked for a love story, and you're getting a love story XD. I plan for this to be a continuing series. No overarching goal with this series, just a sweet story about how Shigaraki fell hard for the reader. It will be messy! Shigaraki is not a healthy guy and would be a vile boyfriend, but I will make this as fluffy as possible. Underneath all that homicidal rage is just a boy who was never loved. This is admittedly a very, "I can fix him," kind of story lmao.

Summary: First encounter between Shigaraki and the reader. The whole chapter is literally Shiggy freaking out in GameStop because you walked in and you're so pretty and he wants to talk to you but doesn't know how.

Warnings will come and go as each chapter comes out.

Warnings: The canon of BNHA is altered; quirks still exist but Shigaraki is more of a "thug" gang leader than a domestic terrorist lmao. NSFW (no sex in this chapter), Shigaraki is a creep, fluff, blue-haired Shigaraki (season 4ish), CHEESY, Shigaraki hears voices and has very loud intrusive thoughts (they are highlighted in blue and red), POV swings, CLIFFHANGER

Notes about Reader's Appearance and Personality: HEAVILY based off of me. She's shy and polite up front but silly and vulgar with people close to her. She is short and a little thicc. Alternative clothing style and she's messy looking. She is a gamer! She is insinuated to be Shigaraki's age (20), maybe even older. She likes anime! She has crooked teeth.

Tomura wasn't unlike other 20-year-old men in that he found himself checking out girls from time to time. He usually didn't do more than look in his peripheral vision, actually, love and romance and even sex were all things Tomura wasn't acquainted with. There's no way someone so twisted could ever be loved.

Tomura loved giving off the impression that he needed nobody. Even in the League, he isolated a lot while the other members would be doing something together. He'd retreat to his own room and play games or plan out operations, but sometimes he'd retreat so that he could cuddle up with his favorite body pillow and just lay there.

He'd probably kill anyone who ever found out about it, but he was starving for love. To be touched, held, kissed. For someone to play with his hair and be comfortable around him. Everyone's so afraid of him, and that's a good thing! However, sometimes he just wished he had someone, just ONE person who wanted his company. Someone to listen to him rant for hours about how much he hates heroes, someone to play games with, someone to make love to, or someone to just hold for comfort when he was stressed.

He'd commit mass genocide if anyone knew he'd had imaginary girlfriends.

Now, a big scary bad guy like Tomura could get a girlfriend, right?? Just use those scare tactics, hold her by the throat with one finger up, and tell her she has no option but to love him. Steal her, hide her, keep her to himself? Sure, the fantasy was a little hot to him, and he could so easily do it. Tomura didn't want that though. As possessive as he is, he wanted to be loved. Not feared. He's feared plenty.

He'd kill if anyone knew how much pain he's in every time he sees a cute couple walk into GameStop. It pisses him off so bad. Why can't he have that?

"Well, doi, Shigaraki. You're a murderer, a psychopath, and a villain. Just one touch and it's over. What girl is going to want your hands all over her?"

"Whatever."

-

Shigaraki was currently at GameStop looking for a video game he'd been wanting to play. He picked the game and came up with a few fingers, turning it the other way around to read the details. As he was reading, he heard a ding from the door, meaning someone was entering the store. Shigaraki always looked when it went off because he could never be too sure that some hero bounty hadn't tracked him down. He looked over to the door, expecting it to be nothing special.

Whatever Tomura was feeling right now started in his eyes. Goodness, you were so...colorful. Not even! It was funny, considering you were wearing mostly black. However, your pretty hair that was put up in pigtails and your sharp black eyeliner made you stand out like a sore thumb.

You were little, too. Tomura looked in comparison as you stood at the door, seeing that you were only around the 5' mark on the height scale.

The feeling started going to his brain now. You stepped closer and closer to the store, your pumped boots making you seem all big (even tho ur're small), bad, and mysterious. He worried you were going to walk over to his area, but you made a beeline toward the anime section.

"Hehe weeb."

Tomura didn't want to stand out, so he just stayed put, looking at games he was never going to play. He didn't even read the labels, he merely pretended to so he could observe you. He saw the other losers in the store eyeball you, too. That made him wanna kill them for some reason. He wanted to get a proper look at you, but he didn't want you to know that he was blatantly creeping on you. Even if he just looked at you, you'd probably leave the store like that. After all, he was wearing a black hoodie and the parts of his face that were visible were his rather creepy features. He'd scare you off.

He's planned some pretty crazy missions before, surely he could gather intel on you in your short time in GameStop, right?

He wanted a better look at you, so he switched from the PS area to the T-shirts. He even pretended to do a little "aha" at the shirts to make it seem like he wasn't purposely there so he could see you better. When he could get a solid look, though, he instantly needed to know everything about you.

Goodness, he's a simp, huh? You were just so goshdarn cute. Sure, he saw gothic and alt girls around the mall all the time. You looked a bit silly, though. Your makeup wasn't bad, but it was messy. Your hair could probably use some brushing too. You held a phone that had a case of some anime guy, though he didn't know which one.

"Hehe weeb."

Fuck, you were heading his way. He didn't know if he should leave before you were near him or just stay. You kept your distance anyway, as you were standing very far off to the side. Surely, you weren't able to get a good look at the shirts. He stepped back, hoping that you'd be able to tell he was giving you room. You smiled and said, "thank you," going to step forward.

Now the feeling was going to his nuts.

Now that you were in front of him, he got a nice view of the back of you. Not only could he see up close how small you really were, but he got a great view of your more intimate areas. He could tell from your skirt that you had wide hips and thick thighs, which made him pop a tiny smirk while you weren't looking.

"Grab her."

Oh, come on, not now.

Stupid fucking voices. Though, they had a point. She's small and seems polite enough to manipulate. She's thick but probably isn't that heavy in the grand scheme of things. Alone. And she ain't getting nowhere in those shoes.

While his voice distracted him, you had managed to end up at the registrar with a t-shirt in your hand. Tomura didn't really think as he bolted over behind you, he wasn't ready for you to leave. He already had his game that he had to buy so it wasn't like he was in line for no reason.

The feeling started going into his blood. He felt hot, and it was because of the stupid cashier making jokes with you and being friendly. Your laugh. He could tell it was fake, but you were so warm?

"Pet her hair."

Wow, ok, Tomura thought. Sometimes they'd say very bizarre things. Voices were confusing because he could never tell if they were deep-seated desires of his or if his brain just purposely wanted to fuck him over.

She started to pull out her wallet to pay but ended up dropping something. It landed right at Tomura's feet, so he bent down to grab it. A debit card!

"I'm sorry," you laugh nervously.

Tomura made sure to read your name intently before handing it back to you.

"No worries, hah. Guess I got to be somebody's hero today," he joked. Fuck. That was a bad joke wasn't it?

"That'd be the first time a hero has done anything helpful for me, then, haha."

...!

"That was a jab at heroes, wasn't it?" He thought. Now the feeling was in his chest. Maybe he's running with too little information but that sounded like an "I hate heroes," joke. Oh, now he's really got to know you.

"Yeah, maybe if they got off all those stacks they make they'd actually save a life, huh?"

"Hehe! You get it!"

You were smiling at him. And laughing. But not the fake laugh you gave the cashier. Your cheeks also flushed up as you giggled at his insult to hero society and he even got to see your teeth. Crooked, like his. He felt paralyzed, being able to look at you without sneaking it this time.

"I like your hair," you said to him.

Shit. He didn't even notice his hoodie fell off when he grabbed your card. Hopefully, the shopkeeper didn't know what "Shigaraki" was supposed to look like.

"I don't see many guys with blue hair like yours."

His eyes lit up when you said that. He may have even felt a small blush creep on his cheeks. Tomura knew he had an ugly face, one that made people whisper and steadily move away from him. But you complimented his hair instead of getting creeped out by him. "Really?"

"Yea. I like it a lot. Most people go for dark blue, but your color is prettier."

Pretty?!

He could swear that he can see you flustered. Is he making you blush? He didn't even do anything but have blue hair.

"Sorry, that was weird," you stammer, realizing that the word "pretty" could've offended him.

"Oh, no. You're fine! I like your hair too, the way you styled it is cute," he beams, hoping to earn some flirting points. You flashed him an adorable smile back, so he must've struck a chord.

"Ma'am, I don't mean to interrupt, but there's a line," the cashier says, getting your attention.

"Oh, right."

The way your voice shot down maybe two octaves was so funny to Tomura. You were so bubbly and flustered with him and yet so dry and indifferent with this guy. You were so interesting already. It's a good thing he made sure to remember the name on that card. Your name fits you so well, too.

You paid for your shirt and started leaving the store. Fuck, no! He didn't want you to go just yet.

"Stop her."

"Grab her."

"Tell her she's hot."

"jesus christ shut the fuck up!" Tomura mutters to himself as quiet as he could. He was trying so hard to think of how to get your attention again, but before he could, you had already been no where to be found.

"Stupid short bitch, I'll find you."

He may have thought of that one voluntarily.

👁👁

Cosplay tomura 2

I finaly have a real wig but she's not that great...😭

What was the best, the old cosplay or that one ?

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 18) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

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-down 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

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. This morning, the thing that’s wrong with it is the potted plant that’s heaved over the fence into the front yard just past three am. The sound of a terracotta pot shattering wakes you up, and when you fumble for your phone to check the time, you see that you’ve got a text from Dabi. Your dumb horny idiot wouldn’t leave me alone until I gave him a plant. Whatever the hell he wants, I hope it’s worth it.

As far as Dabi goes, it could be worse. You send him a thumbs-up and a thank-you and wonder idly if Tomura really thinks one potted plant is going to get the two of you through a second round of sex. But when Tomura materializes in your room seconds later, he doesn’t try to start something. Instead he crawls under the blankets on your bed and wedges himself in beside you. Phantom’s excited to see him. She walks all over you to plop down between the two of you, her wagging tail thumping against your cheek.

You shift her to one side to avoid the onslaught and peer at Tomura through blurry eyes. “What?”

“Go back to bed.” Tomura sets Phantom down on your stomach and presses close against your side, wrapping one arm around you to hold you even closer. “I mean it. Go.”

You don’t like being told what to do, but you have work in the morning, and you’re still worn out from last night. You close your eyes again.

It’s a busy morning, so busy that your plan to get the morning-after pill before work is derailed within two minutes of your alarm going off. You were so tired last night that it was all you could do to make dinner, feed Phantom, and go back to sleep, which means you now have to shower and pack a lunch in addition to all your usual morning chores. And somewhere in the middle of that, you have to explain the plan for killing Tomura’s conjurer to Tomura himself.

Tomura, as predicted, is not pleased. His first protest is that he can do it himself, at which point you text Hizashi to come over later and explain – from outside the fence – what happens to ghosts who kill their own conjurers. Tomura follows up by pointing out that the others weren’t very helpful handling Garaki, and you counter with Tomura’s own statement about being his conjurer’s only remaining ghost. Finally, Tomura gets around to what seems to be the main point of contention. “I don’t trust them. Not with you. Not from him.”

Tomura doesn’t talk about his conjurer very much. From what he’s said, he barely remembers him. But you knew he’d say something like this, and you have a response ready. “If you’re materialized, he’s cut off from the world between. He’ll just be a human. And humans die.”

“Don’t copy me,” Tomura says. He knows you’re quoting what he said to Garaki. “Who’s supposed to kill him, anyway? If they try this stupid plan.”

“The rest of the adult humans,” you say. Then you think about it. “Probably Keigo or Aizawa. And probably Aizawa. He’s got a gun.”

“Spinner would. And Jin.” Tomura speaks with a lot more certainty than you’d expect. He sees the way you’re looking at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” The electric teakettle hisses and you pour hot water into your travel mug before dropping in a tea bag. “Usually you aren’t nice about them.”

“They came over while you were gone. For games.” Tomura crouches down to pet Phantom, who’s come over with her favorite toy. “Himiko, too. It wasn’t bad.”

You didn’t expect that. You didn’t think he’d do anything but hang out with Phantom while you were gone, and you suddenly feel guilty for not asking. But you’ll ask more when you get home from work, or text him about it on your lunch break. Right now you have to get moving. “So, the plan?”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“We’re not doing it today,” you say. “Just think about it. If you’ve got ideas, we could use them. Your last plan was pretty good.”

Tomura looks pleased with himself. You gather up your work backpack, plus all the research you’re bringing to Mr. Yagi in exchange for his and Izuku’s notes on his master’s journal, and head for the door. Phantom follows you. So does Tomura. “Get more plants on the way home.”

You say goodbye to Phantom and feed her a treat. “Plants are expensive.”

“They’re everywhere outside. Those don’t cost anything.”

He wants you to go out, dig up random plants, put them in pots, and bring them home so the two of you can have more sex. “I’m not stealing plants in my work clothes,” you say. “Maybe after dinner.”

Tomura grins. He dematerializes from behind you and reappears in front of you, leaning against the front door and blocking your path. “I want a kiss first.”

“I was going to kiss you anyway.” Your hands are full, but you step forward anyway and press your lips against his.

You haven’t kissed him since last night. The two of you don’t usually kiss unless someone’s trying to start something, and kissing him goodbye on your way out the door to work has always felt a little too intimate, a little too serious for whatever the two of you are. Except now the two of you have said you love each other. You defined the relationship. You went all the way, to the degree that you’re having to make an effort not to walk funny. You can be serious, because it is serious. A goodbye kiss is something you’re allowed to have.

You’re five minutes late by the time you stagger out the door, and as you push the speed limit to get to work on time, you find yourself wishing you had someone you could tell about all of this. Maybe not the sex part. Probably not about that. Definitely not about that – but the rest of it. The part where you’ve got a boyfriend who loves you in whatever way ghosts love humans. It’s the kind of thing you’d talk to your old friends about, but they’ve found their own lives and pulled away, just like you did. There’s got to be somebody else. As you cruise the courthouse parking lot looking for a parking place, your usual spot long since snagged by somebody who got here early, you’re horrified to find yourself considering telling Nakayama.

The spot you find is way back in the corner of the lot, almost out of sight of the doors. If it was dark there’s no way you’d think about parking here, but it’s broad daylight, and you’ve got pepper spray somewhere in your backpack for the walk back after work. You take a second to get yourself organized, then grab your backpack and get out of the car, walking around to the passenger side to lift your research folder off the seat.

You don’t see a shadow fall across you. You don’t hear footsteps. The first thing you notice is something touching your shoulder, and the last thing you see is an enormous hand swathed in a wet, stinking handkerchief coming down over your nose and mouth. You have time to identify the smell – not alcohol, something stronger, chloroform? – before the world starts to blur at the edges. Somewhere in your head, alarm bells are ringing. You’re in danger. You’re being kidnapped. Something’s gone really wrong.

By the time the realization settles over you fully, it’s too late. All you can do is throw your elbow backwards, connecting weakly with something solid, before everything goes black.

You come to with a splitting headache and all the adrenaline and terror you didn’t have time to feel before flooding through your veins. As soon as your eyes are open, you’re fighting, but there’s no point – your arms and legs have been shackled down at the wrists and ankles, and there’s a restraint pinning you to the table at the waist. You’re trapped. It’s not even funny how trapped you are.

When you look up, all you can see is the bright glare of a fluorescent light, the kind that gets shined on your face at the dentist’s office. When you turn your head to the right, there’s nothing. When you look left, you see a rolling cart with a tray on top of it. The tray is covered in sharp, shiny metal implements. Surgical implements.

This can’t be happening. You thrash, trying to find any give in your restraints, but there’s nothing. It’s around then that you realize you’ve been stripped of your shoes, socks, shirt, pants – you’re down to your bra and underwear, like some parody of a kidnapping in a movie. But this isn’t a parody or a movie. It’s real. Whoever brought you here is planning to hurt you badly. Maybe kill you. Probably kill you.

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to kill you.” The voice issues from somewhere behind you, and it rings a distant bell in your head. Too distant, when the rest of you is worried about whether your kidnapper can read your mind. “In fact, my plan hinges on your survival. I have great things in mind for Tomura, and the death of his human at my hands will not improve his listening skills.”

“Shigaraki Akira,” you say, and Tomura’s conjurer laughs. “I know who you are. We all do.”

“Yes, you made it quite far in your investigation! Tomura certainly chose his human well,” the conjurer says. He sounds delighted by it, which is the opposite of how you expected him to sound. “It’s quite unusual to see a human so bent on protecting a ghost – and terribly unfortunate that Tomura wasn’t quite so careful when it came to you. So full of ghostly power – you were all too easy to spot.”

You have the incredibly stupid thought that this wouldn’t be happening if the condom hadn’t broken, then push it aside. The conjurer’s voice is familiar. You’ve met him before. When? Where? “Where did you find me?”

“You don’t remember?” The conjurer sounds surprised. Then he laughs at himself. “Of course. You can’t see me. My apologies.”

Footsteps behind you. A shadow falls over you, and although it’s hard to see the conjurer’s face, you know exactly who you’re looking at. “My fellow gardener,” the man who gave you his handkerchief the day Garaki died says. His smile sends a bolt of pure terror down your spine. “We meet again.”

All this time you’ve been plotting against Tomura’s conjurer, and he’s known where you are. He’s known where you are for more than a month. You thrash against the restraints harder than before, watching as Shigaraki picks his way around the table you’re strapped to and reaches the cart with the instruments. He pulls on a pair of gloves, and somewhere behind you, a door opens. More footsteps. Shadowy figures come to stand along the walls, and Shigaraki continues to talk.

“It’s quite a strange existence your neighborhood has carved out,” he remarks, lifting one tool after another to the light and studying them. “So many beings who once held immense power, leading such quiet, mundane lives. I must say, I’ve never understood the appeal of humanity, of mortality. Why should we settle for one life, one world, when we could have so much more?”

Silence falls, and stretches. Tomura’s conjurer glances at you. “This isn’t a rhetorical question. I’m interested in your answer. What is so wonderful about mortality?”

“It’s not wonderful,” you say. Shigaraki Akira arches an eyebrow. “The world between is worse.”

“Ah, I understand. You’ve stared into the abyss, and you don’t like what you saw.” Shigaraki raises one hand and beckons, and eight shadowy figures converge on the table, holding down your arms and legs even tighter. If you couldn’t get out before, you’ve got no hope of it now. “Perhaps you simply need to look a little longer. You will get the chance.”

When he speaks again, he’s not speaking to you. “Hold her down tightly. We must remove all traces, or our plan will be spoiled before it can begin.”

“What plan?” you ask desperately. “What are you going to do to me?”

“For all your impressive qualities, you’re only human,” Shigaraki Akira says, almost indulgently. “In order for you to properly partner Tomura, I must make you into something more.”

There’s something about that you should understand. Something you should know. But then the blade of a knife meets your skin, carving deep through its layers and down to the fat beneath it, and your ability to understand anything at all vanishes into a helpless howl of pain.

It’s terrible enough to drive you into unconsciousness, but Tomura’s conjurer doesn’t let you stay there. When you pass out, the knife lifts, and the process doesn’t begin again until you wake. You don’t know why you have to be awake for this, unless he’s trying to torture you, but he sets the knife down every so often to assure you it isn’t personal. How could it not be personal? He’s carving into your skin, peeling back long strips of it with agonizing slowness, stopping only when you fall unconscious or when his hands grow too slick with your blood to hold the blade. There’s no rhyme or reason to where he’s cutting you. Your left shoulder. Your right forearm. A spot on the side of your torso that feels like it takes hours upon hours to peel back. Every time you black out, you pray that you won’t wake up, that the conjurer won’t be able to rouse you. And every time, your eyes open again.

It's been quiet in the room, save for the conjurer’s voice and your unheeded screams, but after some endless amount of time, you hear another voice. “Too much blood loss,” it says, low and rumbling. “We’re running out of excisions.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I expected her to be strong-willed, and we have plenty of excisions left for my purposes,” Shigaraki Akira says. “When we exhaust our options on the anterior, we’ll turn her to expose the rest. The one on her back is quite fresh.”

What’s on your back? You know Tomura left scratches there last night – and then you understand what the conjurer’s doing, what he’s spent the last interminable hours carving out of your skin. He’s removing the marks Tomura left on you. All of them, one by one.

You don’t know why he thinks Tomura will be happy with this. Seeing what’s been done to you will enrage him. You wonder what time it is, whether anyone’s noticed you’re missing, whether anyone’s asked where you are. How long will it take Tomura to realize you aren’t coming home? How long is he going to be angry at you before he realizes that something’s gone wrong? You think of him pacing inside the house, Phantom following him, anxious because he is. You wish you were anywhere but here, but more than anything, you wish you were home with them. You’re never going to see them again. Your throat, raw from screaming, closes off. Tears begin to drip down your cheeks, and the next time the knife cuts into your skin, you endure it in sobs instead of screams.

Your other arm. Your opposite shoulder. The other side of your waist. At some point the conjurer inserts an IV, and fresh blood begins to flow drop by drop into your veins. He wants you alive. Why? You try to make yourself listen to what he’s saying, to learn anything that might help you survive, but there’s nothing. Just the friendly exterior, the friendly voice, and the hands cutting you apart piece by piece.

“I can’t call this failure Tomura’s,” he muses as he carves a piece of flesh out of your upper arm. “He doesn’t know any better. Toshinori, on the other hand – the fact that I snatched you from under his nose will haunt him for the rest of his pathetic human life.”

You want to defend Mr. Yagi, but there’s nothing left of your voice. It’s almost as raspy as Tomura’s, and you’ve barely used it for anything but sobs and weak whimpers of pain. The conjurer’s voice takes on a dangerous note. “Nothing to say? Your stubbornness was charming at first. Now it’s getting excessive.” He jabs the knife into your skin, peels a strip back, and you wail like a wounded animal. “There’s no point in resisting. No one is coming for you. No one knows where you are. No one even knows you’re gone. The longer you resist, the worse it will be.”

No one knows you’re gone. That means it’s still the same day, because if he’s been watching you, he knows what time you’d be expected home. How is it the same day? It feels like it’s been forever. “That’s right,” the conjurer continues. “The longer you hold out, the more painful this will be. When it ends is entirely up to you.”

When it ends? Your mind is too hazy with blood loss and pain to come up with an answer, and before you can even come close, the knife bites into your skin again. You pass out almost instantly. He revives you just as quickly. It begins all over again.

You can tell the conjurer is growing frustrated with your unwillingness to do whatever it is he wants you to do. You also have a feeling he’s running out of marks to carve away, and sure enough, he orders for you to be uncuffed and rolled over, so he can reach the marks on your back. They uncuff your legs first. Nobody’s trying too hard to prevent you from running, which makes sense. You can’t run. You don’t even know that you could stand.

When your right hand’s uncuffed, the conjurer takes one look and bursts out laughing. “How did I miss this?” he asks, pulling the bracelet from your wrist. “Shimura’s work. Of course she’d continue to plague me from beyond the grave.”

Conjurers can’t touch the souls of the dead. If you die, you’ll be free of this. Free from him. The thought comes to you, settles around you, comforting and cold. You don’t have to survive this. It can end. You can go.

Shigaraki Akira laughs. “So this token was the underpinning of your resolve. Moonfish, retrieve the ghost. We’re ready.”

His voice is benevolent again, almost cooing, with a sickly undertone that makes you want to tear off the rest of your skin. He uncuffs your other wrist without looking, without spotting the bracelet there, covered in blood and practically glued to your skin. “I imagine Tomura will be very fond of my gift. Once your binding is complete, he’ll have no need to embody himself again.”

A ghost. He called for a ghost, and he’s talking about binding – a Nomu. Tomura’s conjurer is planning to turn you into a Nomu. He tortured you until you lost your will to go on, and as if you needed proof that he succeeded, you’re lying completely unrestrained on the table without even the faintest urge to run. “As for this,” Shigaraki continues, “it’s only fitting that I break Shimura’s last trinket on the day I break her ghost’s will.”

He raises the bracelet and slams it down on the table. You hear it crack. A sheet of white light blasts through the room.

You don’t understand what’s happening. It feels like it happens too fast, and at the same time, you see it in slow motion. Shigaraki’s blown backwards, clawing at his face and howling. The table you were tied to tips and overturns. There’s a sharp sting as the IV comes out of your arm, and pain explodes through your body as you hit the ground and sprawl out. Your mind’s a second or two behind the times. You’re sprawled out on the ground. Your arms and legs are free. You could get up, if you wanted to. You could run.

You struggle to your knees, try to stand, and realize that crawling’s your best bet. In the wreckage of the laboratory, nobody’s paying attention to you – they’re all trying to aid Tomura’s conjurer, who’s still howling in pain. You gather your strength and what’s left of your resolve and crawl for the door.

The operating room was clean and pitilessly bright, but the hallway outside is dingy, and crawling through it feels like it’s going to give you twenty kinds of diseases. It’s that thought that forces you to your feet, and not a second too soon. One of the conjurer’s minions is hurrying down the hallway towards you, carrying a matte-black box that’s rattling in his grip. You don’t even think before you act. You reach out and swat it from his hands, and the instant it strikes the floor, the ghost inside it bursts free.

The ghost could kill you. You see her thinking about it, but then the conjurer’s servant lunges through her, towards you, and she materializes all at once. You’ve never seen a ghost trap someone else with its own body before, and it’s hideous. So is what’s happening to the minion – massive dents are appearing in his body, like the way a car looks after a few rounds in a demolition derby. His eyes are blank as his body deforms, but the ghost looks at you. She has dark skin and pale hair and a look of unrestrained fury in her red eyes. “Run.”

You don’t need to be told more than once. You set off down the hall as fast as you can go, stumbling on almost every step. If anyone catches you, you’re doomed, but if you can get out of the building, maybe – you think about your home, Phantom. Tomura. But even if you make it out of here, you don’t know where you are. You don’t have money or your phone or your ID. You don’t even have clothes. When you hit the street, you’ll be doing it bloodstained and in your underwear, and there’s no guarantee that you’ll make it that far. You remind yourself again. Phantom. Tomura. You have to.

Something seizes you from behind, and your destroyed vocal cords shudder around a scream – but it’s only the ghost from the box. She begins to drag you down the hall, much faster than you were able to move on your own. “I’ll get you out, but that’s it,” she says through clenched teeth. “Whatever you did in there, do it again as soon as we’re outside.”

You still have the other bracelet. You nod and struggle to pick up speed, but the ghost makes an irritated sound and yanks you completely off your feet. It’s faster this way. Still, you’d give almost anything not to see the long smear of blood your body is leaving on the ground, and of course being dragged around like this hurts. Everything hurts. You’ve never felt pain like this before. All you want is for it to stop.

No, that’s not all you want. You want to go home. You think of Phantom, think of Tomura, and hold on tight as the ghost kicks down a door and drags you through onto the street.

It’s almost full dark. The air smells sooty and metallic, which tells you that you’re in the old manufacturing district, a long way from anybody who could have heard you scream. The ghost drops you next to the building and gestures impatiently. “Do it. You’ll need every second of a head start.”

You raise your left hand and bang your wrist against the wall of the building. Not hard enough. You throw yourself against the wall, hoping your body weight will do the trick, but there’s no luck there, either. “We’re too close,” the ghost says suddenly. “Give me that.”

She pries the bracelet off your wrist, drags you five feet, ten feet, twenty feet away, then hurls the bracelet against the wall from a distance. The blast of light takes a chunk out of the side of the building, and the entire thing begins to collapse – but that’s all you see of it. The ghost drags you away from the damaged building, towards the more populated downtown. As bad as being dragged across the floor in the warehouse was, being dragged across concrete is worse. You black out after about three seconds, and this time, there’s no conjurer trying to wake you up.

The next time you come to, you’re huddled in an alleyway, limbs flopping uselessly as the ghost tries to stuff you into a set of clothes that smell freshly stolen. “Go out there,” she snaps at you once she sees you’re awake. “Someone will see this and help you. This is as far as I go.”

“Thank you,” you mumble. “You got me out –”

“We got each other out. He dropped my box because of you.” The ghost straightens your shirt, then hauls you upright by the front of it. “Good luck, human.”

“Wait,” you say, and the ghost glances at you again. “What’s your name?”

“Rumi.” The ghost dematerializes and vanishes completely.

Rumi’s saved your life, and now she’s saving her own. The rest is up to you. You lean against the wall for a moment, fighting off the urge to lay down and give up, then start down the alleyway and into the street.

It’s a street you recognize. You lived near here, in the last apartment you had before you bought your house. It’s been almost two years. You don’t know anyone here you can ask for help, so you struggle down the sidewalk, pausing at one of the city’s few remaining payphones before realizing that you don’t have anyone’s number memorized. You could look through the phone book – Mr. Yagi’s almost certainly listed – but that would take money and time, and you’re getting unsteadier on your feet by the second. You spot the sign for the train station up ahead and aim for it. The train will take you out of the city, and maybe you can sit down.

Hopping the turnstiles is something you’re familiar with, but your muscles are desperately weak. You get one leg over, then get stuck, and sprawl out hard on the tiles on the far side. You know you leave smears of blood when you get to your feet, but the clothes Rumi stole for you don’t show it except in slick, dark spots, and there are so many of them that it probably looks like a pattern in the fabric. You leave the bloody outline of your body on the floor and pick yourself up again, dragging yourself onto the first train that pulls into the station. You hope it’s the right one.

On board, you huddle in your seat, shivering. You’ve always liked the cold, but you’re used to being cold on the outside – from air or water or wind or from Tomura wrapping himself around you, visible or not. This cold is crawling up from inside you, cold like the world between, hollowing you out one cell at a time. No matter how tightly you curl up, you can’t shake it. It hurts so badly. Everything hurts, and there’s no one to help you, and you’re so far from home. And even if you make it, you’re a mess. You’ll have scars, horrible ones, and enough nightmares to keep you awake for the rest of your life. Imagining going back to work, back to your life, feels impossible. What’s the point?

The point is Phantom, who loves you. The point is Tomura, who loves you too, who will never forgive you if you leave him like this, or at all. You have to keep it together for them. At least long enough to see them one more time.

By some miracle you got on the right train, the one that runs all the way out of the city proper to reach your stop. When you hear your stop called, you haul yourself upright and stagger off the train, leaving another bloodstain on the seat you were in. You almost make it down the stairs from the platform, but you miss a step and fall down three more, sprawling out headfirst on the concrete. You barely bring your arms up in time to shield your face. And then you’re stuck. You don’t have the energy to pick yourself back up again, and even if you could, it’s still miles between you and home. Instead of trying to rise again, you curl up, whimpering when the movement breaks the few scabs that have managed to form over your wounds. You have a hard time imagining you have any blood left to lose.

This is it. This is how you die, then – in a bloody heap on the sidewalk, because you could escape but you couldn’t make it home. You’re going to leave him. It’s the last thing you want, but you can’t help it. Maybe you can find some way to stick around, just like Yoichi did, but deep in your heart you know you’re not that strong. You’ll leave Tomura, go where humans go, and you’ll never see each other again.

The thought makes you cry, but crying hurts your throat, and the horrible raspy sounds you’re making do a great job of covering up the sound of a car pulling over. Then the sound of footsteps. But there’s no way you can miss the sound of your own name, shouted in a familiar voice. “Hey, where have you been?” Spinner demands. “If you don’t get back soon, Tomura’s going to – wait, are you okay? Did you fall?”

“I knew I smelled blood!” Himiko’s here, too. You hear a car door slam shut, and more footsteps darting towards you. “A lot of blood. Not all of it’s hers.”

“Did she kill somebody?” A hand reaches out and shakes your shoulder, then recoils – just like you’re doing, because their hand came down over one of your wounds. “Fuck, look at this. She didn’t try to kill somebody, they tried to kill her. Get her up.”

Hands seize you – at least three sets of hands, three people pulling you upright. “Careful,” Spinner is pleading. “Don’t touch the blood –”

“I can’t do shit about that. It’s everywhere.” Now you can place the third voice – it’s Dabi. What is Dabi doing out here? “Something fucked her up bad.”

You force your eyes open and see that you’re being carried towards the dark shape of the Buibaigawara family’s minivan. Jin is in the driver’s seat, and you see him grinning at you. “Hey, there you are! We gotta get – Himiko, shit, is that blood? Did you do that?”

“I wouldn’t,” Himiko snaps at him, sounding more than a little hurt. “Somebody cut Tomura’s human. We have to take her to the hospital.”

“No.” The voice from the passenger seat sounds more like Kurogiri than Shirakumo right now. “We must return to the neighborhood.”

“You’re not the one with her blood all over your hands. She could be dying!” Spinner protests. “If we get her to the hospital –”

“She’s vulnerable to the conjurer,” Kurogiri says. Dabi, Spinner, and Himiko dump you into the middle row of seats in the van and he twists around to look at you. “He’s the one who did this.”

“I got away.” You cringe from the sound of your own voice. “He got hurt. Maybe dead.”

“Did you see the body?” Dabi asks. You shake your head. “If you didn’t see it, he’s not dead.”

“He’s right. If Tomura wasn’t materialized when it happened, the conduit was still open, and he could have used Tomura’s power to survive.” Spinner looks miserable. “We can’t know for sure.”

“We have to go back,” Kurogiri repeats. “Jin, drive.”

The minivan lurches into motion. Himiko and Spinner are trying to figure out what to do about your injuries, while Dabi gets on the phone. “We’ve got her. Pull everybody back,” he says. You can’t hear the other person’s response, but you hear Dabi’s answer. “She looks like something mauled her.”

“It’s not that bad,” Spinner says hastily, trying to reassure you. It’s – sweet. “You’re going to be fine. I bet they’re not as bad as they – holy shit –”

Himiko’s just pulled up your shirt. Spinner rolls down the window in a hurry and sticks his head out, gagging, while Himiko stares for a moment with her jaw dropped. Then her pupils narrow to slits, sheer rage settling over her face. “He cut out Tomura’s marks,” she says. Dabi swears into the phone, then swears again as the person on the other end of the line barks at him in response. “I’ll cut him.”

You always thought Tomura’s thing about not touching other ghosts’ humans was just a weird Tomura thing, given how much time Dabi and Hizashi spend lowkey threatening you, but apparently it’s not. The idea of someone removing a ghost’s marks on their human is enough to seriously piss off Dabi, Himiko, and Kurogiri at once, until the car is crackling with their fury. “Can you guys cool it?” Jin asks anxiously. “I’m a nervous driver.”

“You sped the whole way here!”

“I was nervous about finding her. Now I’m nervous about you guys blowing up my mom’s car,” Jin says. “What’s going on is fucked. I want to kill something! But if even I can pick up on what all of you are doing, Tomura will, too.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Spinner says at once. “If he finds out about this he’ll go ballistic. There’s no way he’ll stick to the plan.”

“You can’t just hide it. I could smell her blood from down the street.” Himiko peers at you, her pupils dilating again. “And her soul’s not right. It’s unstuck, kind of. It’s wrong. He’ll know. He’ll know his marks are gone, too.”

Dabi hangs up the phone, then dials another number. He speaks while it’s ringing. “I’m letting the humans know. He can’t read them like he reads us. When we get back, you all get on her and stay there. You too, Kurogiri. As long as she smells like the neighborhood he might not notice.”

“She’s still bleeding,” Spinner says loudly. “If we bring her back and she dies –”

“Keigo knows doctor shit. He can help her.” Whoever Dabi’s calling picks up the phone, and Dabi starts talking. “Yeah, we’ve got her. She’s fucked up. Here’s what we’ll do –”

You’re among friends now. People who will help you, whether it’s out of obligation or because they care, and now that you know you’re not going to die alone, it’s somehow harder to hang on. The drive back to the neighborhood goes by in a long, slow blink, punctuated by Himiko and Spinner repeatedly shaking you awake. “Come on,” Spinner says, still sounding sort of like he wants to throw up. “You have to make it through this. Tomura’s naming his Pokémon all kinds of stupid shit and you’re the only one who can talk him out of it.”

“Stay awake,” Himiko tells you. She’s been patting your cheek lightly, which you don’t mind. Your face and neck are the only parts of you that the conjuror left untouched. “You’re my only human girl neighbor. I’ll be sad if you die. Tomura will be so sad if you die. You don’t want him to be sad, do you? You love him. Humans don’t want the people they love to be sad.”

“Ghosts don’t, either,” Dabi mutters. Then, to Jin: “Park at the top of the street, across the street. Everybody’s falling back to my house and the idiot’s. We could use the extra barricade.”

Jin skids to a stop at the top of the street, and Spinner opens the door. You see people hurrying up the street towards you and identify them distantly – Keigo, Hizashi. They reach you just as everyone else is hauling you out of the car. Hizashi takes one look at you and swears, his pupils narrowing to slits just like Himiko’s did. The embodied ghosts never look more inhuman than when they’re angry. “When he gets here, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Calm down,” Spinner begs. “If he figures it out –”

“He knows she’s back. If you’re any good at lying, Spinner, get down there and tell him we’re hiding her in my house so the conjurer won’t find her when he comes looking for him.” Hizashi’s a good liar, and it’s a logical plan, but you absolutely don’t want to be left alone with Hizashi right now. “Keigo, Dabi, with us. Everybody else, battle stations. Shigaraki’s on his way here, and he’s not happy.”

The group splits, Himiko bolting down the street while the others follow at a slower pace. You’ve had enough of a rest that you think you can maybe walk a few feet, past Atsuhiro’s house and up Aizawa’s front steps, if only so Tomura doesn’t spot you being carried and catch on to what’s really happening. Keigo hovers next to you, ready to catch you if you stumble, while Dabi and Hizashi trail behind you. “What are you doing up here?” Dabi asks Hizashi. “He trusts you about as far as he could throw your rotting corpse.”

“So, pretty far, then.” Hizashi ignores the disgusted noise Dabi makes. “He trusts my human more than me, and my human can lie to him better than I can. And since he’s got my human right now, he’s got all the leverage on me he needs to make sure I’m right here to take the hit against his asshole conjurer.”

“Fucking asshole. And I thought ours was bad.”

“Ours didn’t need us like his needs him.” Hizashi snarls low under his breath. “Cutting out the marks is a new low. It would have been better if he’d just killed her.”

“Don’t say that,” Keigo snaps at him. You push open the front door, then stumble over the threshold into the house. Keigo catches you, guiding you towards the kitchen, and – “Hey, calm down! I just need to get a look at your injuries!”

You can’t look at the kitchen table without feeling sick. “I’m not laying there.”

“Fine. The living room. Get on the floor.”

The floor is fine. It has a carpet, and Keigo yanks a pillow off the couch for you to prop your head on before he pulls out a pair of scissors and starts cutting away your bloody clothes. He studies you and sucks in a breath. “Okay, cleaning these out and bandaging them is the best I can do, but it’s not going to be enough. The skin’s the biggest organ in the body and right now it’s got a bunch of holes in it. You need antibiotics and some of that fake skin as soon as we can get it, or sepsis will set in and kill you.”

“You can’t just stitch it up?” Dabi asks. “That’s what you did for me.”

You wonder what the story was there. “These are too wide for me to do it with what I’ve got here,” Keigo says. He looks down at you. “The cleaning part is going to suck. Can you keep quiet?”

You nod. He doesn’t look convinced, so you clear your throat and try to talk. “I can take it. It won’t be as bad as when it happened.”

“What happened, exactly?” Hizashi asks. He’s at the front window, while Dabi leans with his back to the door. “We’ve been careful. You had those bracelets. When did we get made?”

“Same day –” The cleaning process starts in earnest, and you hiss in pain. “Same day we killed Garaki. I left to get the plants. I met him at the nursery.”

Dabi makes a skeptical noise. “You had the bracelets. Those things work. He shouldn’t have been able to tell.”

“He could.” You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to howl. What was it that Shigaraki said? “He said I had ghostly energy. That I was full of it.”

“Ugh. Don’t tell me shit like that. I don’t want to know.”

“That’s not what he meant,” Hizashi says suddenly. He turns to look at you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he looks like he’d seen a ghost. “When did you meet him? Before Tomura’s lesson or after?”

The fact that Keigo’s helping you instead of hurting you on purpose doesn’t make what he’s doing hurt even less. You squeeze your eyes shut. “After.”

“Fuck,” Hizashi mumbles. “It’s my fault.”

“Huh?” Keigo sounds puzzled. “It sounds like bad luck.”

“It’s not. I made Tomura practice discharging power before the fight, and I made him practice on her.” Hizashi’s voice is full of venom. “He’s got the self-control of an elephant on an acid trip, so of course he overdid it. The bracelets wouldn’t have done shit to hide her after that. Anybody who was looking could have seen her from space.”

You remember something he said that day: She’ll glow in the dark until it wears off. Hizashi was trying to make you leave, but all he did was turn you into a walking signpost pointed directly at the neighborhood. Is it his fault? Blaming him would feel good, maybe, if none of the rest of this had happened. You don’t want to think about it. All you want is not to hurt anymore.

It’s cold, and getting colder. You think some of that could be the blood loss, and the fact that your clothes are partially in tatters once again, but when you exhale, you can see your breath. Keigo notices, too, and you watch the blood drain from his face. “Guys –”

Hizashi and Dabi are huddled by the window. “These can’t all be his,” Hizashi is hissing.

“They’re not. I’ve seen some of them before,” Dabi hisses. “They’re like you. They came here on purpose, and now they’re free.”

“And they’re following him?” Keigo says, incredulous. “Why?”

“For kicks? I don’t know.” Hizashi shrugs uselessly. “I’m a little out of touch these days.”

You can hear low whispering from outside the house, and the air is getting colder by the second. If everybody else is down at the other end of the street – “Call them. Warn them –”

“They know already,” Hizashi says grimly. “Trust me.”

Just like Garaki before him, Tomura’s conjurer speaks first. The mirror sound of his voice makes you cringe and curl in on yourself. “Good evening, Tomura,” Shigaraki Akira says. “What a quiet life you’ve led since we last saw each other.”

Dabi and Hizashi rose to the bait instantly when Garaki called out to them. Tomura stays silent. “Not even a greeting?” Shigaraki asks, and clucks his tongue. “I suppose I never taught you manners.”

“You’re trespassing.” Tomura’s voice rings out, vibrating with power. “This is my neighborhood. Get out.”

Shigaraki clucks his tongue again. “Poor thing. I see now that I’ve been neglectful. I should never have left you with the impression that this was your home.”

“How many are out there?” Keigo asks, keeping his voice low.

“Hundreds,” Dabi says, and the floor feels as though it’s fallen out beneath you. “Nomus. Embodied ghosts. Live ones.”

“None of them are his,” Hizashi says. There’s a savage note in his voice. “He’s only got one.”

Tomura hasn’t responded to his conjurer’s latest taunt. His conjurer speaks again. “You’ve built quite a comfortable existence for yourself, haven’t you? A secluded kingdom. Servants who bend to your whims. Even a human of your own.”

“What human?” Tomura scoffs. “I don’t have a human.”

Even knowing he’s trying to protect you, even knowing that he’s lying, your heart sinks. “You know better than to lie to me,” the conjurer says. That almost-indulgent note is back in his voice.  You roll to one side and dry-heave onto Aizawa’s carpets. “Where is the human girl? Has she failed to return home?”

“She’s home,” Tomura snaps. “Safe from you.”

“Have you seen her?” Shigaraki inquires. He sounds honestly concerned. “Who told you that she’s home? The others? The ones who fear your wrath so deeply that they have every reason to lie?”

“She’s here.” This time, it’s Shirakumo who answers – Shirakumo, not Kurogiri. “You know I’m telling the truth, Tomura. So is Himiko.”

“Yes, your human is home,” the conjurer agrees. “But safe? I think not. Dabi, Hizashi, Keigo – come out. Bring Tomura’s human to him.”

“No,” Tomura says, but there’s an uncertain note in his voice. “Stay where you are.”

“Come out,” the conjurer repeats. “No one will harm you on your way. Tomura’s human is in a delicate condition. I won’t risk anyone dropping her.”

He’s pretending like he’s not the one who did this to you. Like he really cares about making sure you get back to Tomura safely. “Stay where you are,” Tomura orders again. “You can’t trust him.”

“I’m the only one here who’s telling you the truth,” Shigaraki says. “Hizashi, Dabi, Keigo. Bring the human out. If you won’t, I’ll be forced to send my friends to retrieve her – and unlike me, they don’t much care about preserving your lives.”

You lift your head with an effort and see Dabi and Hizashi trade a glance. Then they turn from the window and come towards you. “It’s strategy,” Hizashi insists as he drops a coat over you, as Dabi hoists you upright. “If they come get us here, we’re all dead. Your house is a lot easier to defend.”

But he wouldn’t let you go back unless he thought it wouldn’t matter. He’s playing all of you, and you’re too weak and exhausted to see what his endgame is. You’re semiconscious as Keigo, Dabi, and Hizashi carry you down the front steps, but you keep your eyes open with an effort, and you see the conjurer’s army parting the way to make a path, one that runs straight as an arrow down the street until it reaches your house. Hizashi sets a brisk pace, just below a jog, and you jostle along between he and the others. You don’t see where the conjurer is, but you hear his voice. “Very good,” he says, encouraging. “A wise choice. I’m sure Tomura will be merciful in turn.”

You hear the others’ voices as you get closer to the house, all of them trying for damage control. You start agitating to be set down. You can’t risk Tomura losing his temper on the others, and the worse off he thinks you are, the angrier he’ll be. He needs to see that you’re fine. You’ll be fine. Keigo sets you down carefully, then steps in close, arm around you to hold you upright. You survive the step up onto the sidewalk and shuffle along until you’re walking parallel to your own fenced yard. You have to keep walking. You have to keep walking long enough for Tomura to let Hizashi and Dabi in, or he’ll strand them outside.

The gate swings open as you reach it, and Tomura’s voice drifts in from nowhere. “She wasn’t wearing that when she left,” he says. Dabi steps through, then Hizashi, and he shuts the gate behind him. You have time to register that every last one of your neighbors is inside the property line before your vision begins to blur. It’s not blurry enough to block out Tomura as he materializes at the top of the front steps. His next question is for you. “Why were you late?”

You can’t talk. Talking will give it away. You climb the first step, then the next, and it’s not until you’re just outside the warm glow of the porch light that your legs give out.

heyyy

soemone want to rp in private ?

I rp about : the walking Dead

Mha

Scp fondation

Maybe others but please ask first^^

Guess who fall for another that can kill ypu with just a touch ? Not me haha...ha....

I LOVED your yandere scp 49 headcannons, and I was wondering if you could do a oneshot (or headcannons, whatever you prefer) of him x d-class reader ( fem or gn pronouns)during a security breach? If not, that’s ok, makes just to enjoy your day and remember that your beautiful just the way you are =]

Sure! I had so much writer's block on this, I hope this was fine :)

Cure

Yandere! SCP-049 with D-Class! Darling Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Slight possessive behavior, Mass murder, Zombies, Death, Slight obsession, Vague Yandere behavior, Slight strong language.

Alarms blared everywhere in Site 19. Chaos ensued along with orders being barked at everyone. An SCP was on the loose and you didn't want to stick around too long.

You wanted to leave, this being a chance to change your fate. The bright orange jumpsuit you wore made it obvious of what you were meant to be.

Disposable.

Yet with this SCP on the loose you felt you could change that. You didn't have to be a guinea pig anymore. Perhaps you didn't have to die in vain.

You'd rather die fighting than letting yourself be some pawn in these experiments.

Softly and quietly you paced about the facility. Screams echoed through corridors, you needed to act fast. Stay here any longer and you'd be as good as dead.

What goes on in this facility was enough to break the mind of anyone.

Was that a more preferable fate?

You thought back on the tests you were subjected to here while you made your way through the already bloody building.

------

"You are meant to interview me again?"

You're hesitant in front of the plague doctor SCP. Hard to see eyes studied you carefully before jotting down notes.

"Yes... I am meant to ask you questions before being returned to my... cell."

You're ridiculously on edge on front of 049, what you were told the SCP was called.

Its touch could kill so you needed to be careful.

"...I see. You look well, no sense of disease as of currently. Just like usual."

You look down to the jade ring on your hand. That ring was the only thing keeping you alive and well. It seems your higher-ups didn't want you dead quite yet.

"Yeah, thanks for noticing. Now, let's get this over with. I'm sure you also want this done quick?"

The SCP looks you up and down before humming in thought.

"I can see where you're coming from. Although you are someone I enjoy talking to."

You don't think too much on it before taking interview notes after asking questions. The SCP, in return, taking notes of its own.

SCP-049, the plague doctor, was the SCP you were assigned with for interviews. Luckily not being a D-Class they wished to sacrifice yet.

Every meeting you were either given SCP-714, or a special injection to prevent 049 from harming you. You wondered if they didn't kill you yet because the Euclid SCP liked you.

For now you took it as a much better fate than death but you felt like you were walking on eggshells. What if you said something wrong and pissed 049 off?

Then you'd definitely be left for dead.

"Permission to ask you something, (Y/N)?"

You're caught off guard by the sudden question fired back at you. Especially being addressed by your name instead of the number you told it to address you as.

"I guess...?"

"... How's it feel to be caged here?"

You pause, unsure how to answer.

"I'm not dumb. I know what those orange jumpsuits mean. Don't you ever wish to leave?"

"I wish I could ask you the same. How do you feel about being locked up?"

"I came here of my own free will. You, I can tell, have not."

"Well...I-"

There's a crackling from the overhead speaker. 049 watches when you jump in fear and look at it. Utterly helpless, forced to listen to the orders you're given.

"D-Class, the interview will now be terminated. Do not talk about off-topic questions."

Guards soon enter the room and grab you harshly. You sigh before being escorted out. 049 narrows its eyes but never makes any attempt to be hostile.

At least, for now

------

SCP-049 wasn't too bad to work with. Which was ironic to say because the speakers were blaring that 049 had breached containment.

Aggressive zombie like corpses wandered the halls, varying in appearance. Some were guards, some even were other D-Class. Others were unlucky scientists.

You wondered what 049's end goal was. But, for now, you had one goal. Making yourself immune to the 'cure' 049 would eventually throw your way.

Unable to have access to the syringes they sometimes gave you, SCP-714 was your best bet. Even if the ring made you sluggish and tired.

"Why must you all resist... I am simply curing you of your illness."

You quietly peak around a corner, keycard in hand. That voice was unmistakably SCP-049. It seemed he had found another victim, rather focused on a screaming scientist.

While looking for the right door to the SCP you were looking for, you wondered if 049 would spare you. You two always talked for interviews. 049 even seemed to like you.

Then again, you were always protected of disease from outside help.

You never realized just how much danger you were truly in without that ring until a zombie spotted you, either

"What are you... Ah? (Y/N). It's been awhile. I will admit I missed you since our last visit."

You stare doe-eyed at the SCP. A small laugh coming from it while it scrawled in a notebook.

"Don't bother running off. You and I both know how fast I am. I really don't want to rush this too much.

049 walks closer to you slowly, observing you.

"049-"

"(Y/N), are you feeling okay? Those guard have such an... infectious touch."

You're shaking, breathing labored. You had no protection against this creature's touch.

"In... all honesty I'm nervous-"

"You're scared of my treatment, aren't you? I will be gentle when curing you. I need to get rid of their mark."

049 caught on fast.

"You could put it like that.... Please, 049, just let me go. We're close, aren't we?"

"Yes. But for that same reason I don't want you to leave just yet."

You back up, keeping out of reach of the SCP's hands.

"What do you want?"

"Would saying 'you' be adequate?"

"Don't get smart with me.... Why me?"

"Well, you're the healthiest of the others in this facility. It would be a shame to lose you to, say, a gunshot. That or another unclean SCP, right? I need to keep you pure."

You narrow your eyes.

"And?"

"Perhaps you're more dense than I thought...."

You're cornered, the SCP glaring you down.

"I only wish to keep you here with me, free from all disease. I will be your cure. Now, submit yourself to me, (Y/N)."

You could barely react when the hand of the creature clasps itself on your shoulder.

"You are one of my best patients. I promise I'll keep you with me in good health. All because I think I found myself adoring you."

With that, you found yourself giving your last breath.

Cured, within the eyes of SCP-049.

Incel shiggy kidnaps idol reader

Or rents lookalike idol reader (and he does what he wants with her bc this is the closest hell ever get) (then gives a fat check accompanying his fat load)

God, so many thoughts… head in hands rn/pos

Couldn’t decide on which one I like more, so here’s both kinda. Part two to this. Also, I’m assuming that by lookalike, you mean a sex worker who cosplays as the reader? I hope this is to your liking!

MDNI

CW/TW: Implied Kidnapping, Shigaraki is an incel so his opinions of sex workers are Not Great, I’m very new to writing smut

Shiggy tries hiring lookalikes but they never compare to you. You’re pure, a saint- no, goddess among men. These whores simply use your likeness to make a quick buck off of filthy nobodies like him. But sometimes a toy isn’t enough.

He hires one he finds on a porn site. They’re a convincing lookalike, even going so far as to mimic your voice. Even though you don’t talk like that. She laughs at a subpar joke he made, her laugh high and shrill, closer to a shriek than your angelic voice.

He brings her home while everyone else is out or in their rooms. He’s already been flamed by Dabi for spending so much on chicks that look like you, just thinking about it pisses him off.

He drags her into the room by her arm, ignoring her whining about his grip. When they get to his room, he tosses her on the bed, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock without looking at her.

She has on a pair of themed panties with little bows on them. She says her “best friend” got them for her. They’re themed after that damn boy idol group. Specifically, the boy who’s constantly touching you or making you laugh. That little shit has no fucking right being pressed up against your cunt, themed underwear or not.

Shigaraki turns her panties to dust, kneeling down until he’s face to face with her pussy. He shoves his face in, licking her slit and plunging his tongue into her hole. He wanted to practice before the real thing. He knew that one day you would be his, and he needed to be sure that he was your best. Plus, he found that he actually enjoyed eating pussy. He knew once you two were together, he’d be buried between your thighs 24/7.

He sped up his tongue as her moans got louder, circling her clit and tapping it before going back to her soaked hole. She sounded fake at first, but soon her voice became genuine as her orgasm approached.

Shigaraki flipped her onto her back before dropping back to his knees. He showed no mercy, sucking her clit into his mouth and licking it in tighter circles as his fingers plunged inside of her. With one final suck, her thighs clamped around his head as her orgasm crashed into her.

He forces her legs apart as he lines himself up and fully sheathes himself in one harsh thrust. Her legs clamp around him as he sets an unforgiving pace. His dick has an extreme upward curve, and his position keeps hitting her g-spot without even trying.

She’s teary eyed at this point, begging him for more. He grabs her thighs and pushes them until her knees are by her ears, leaning down until their breaths were mixing.

He leans further and licks a stripe up her throat, biting just below her jaw. "Gonna breed this nasty cunt. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he says, lips pulled into a sneer.

“Yes, Ohmyfuckinggod please cum in me. I need it please oh my god oh fuck." Just another way she wasn’t you. You’d beg him to pull out. But it didn’t matter. He was too close to complain.

With a final cry into the musky air, her cunt clamps down on his cock. He groans, his hips stuttering as he presses himself flush with her hips, spurting out rope after warm, thick rope of cum into her pussy.

He stays inside for a few seconds before he pulls out, watching the globs roll out of her abused cunt. He doesn’t snap a picture, instead leaving $1,500 on the nightstand next to her before leaving to clean himself up.

He’s scrolling on his phone a little while later when he sees you’ve posted to your Twitter again. Your group is going to be returning to the city in three weeks and holding a concert the day of their return. You’re posting about how you can’t wait to be reunited with your beloved pet cat and sleep in your bed again.

Shiggy gets tickets to the concert and decides to follow the car the group came in to your house. After everyone has gotten to their homes, you are dropped off last at a fancy looking apartment. Shiggy watches you enter the building and watches the windows to see which light turns on.

You’re high up, but that doesn’t deter him.

He walks into the building, trying his best to not draw attention to himself as he climbs the stairs. He reaches your floor with great effort. He really should exercise more. He leans on the wall next to the elevator to catch his breath.

While he’s standing there, a guy in a Pizza Hut uniform walks out of the elevator, looking around.

“Hey, do you live here?” He asks, tilting his head. Shigaraki stiffens, trying to not look guilty.

“I’m trying to find room 816. Someone ordered a pizza, garlic bread, and soda. Big soda too, they must have a pretty severe sweet tooth.” He continues, trying to make small talk. Shiggy pushes himself from the wall, motioning for the man to follow. He leads him to a supply closet on the floor, pushing him inside when he hesitates. He snatches the boxes in his hand, placing it on a shelf.

“Wait, what the fuck?” The delivery man turns to Shigaraki, “Nice prank, ha-ha. Now where is Room 81-“

Shigaraki grabs the man’s neck, careful to avoid his clothes. The man’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates before shooting to Shigaraki’ wrist, desperately trying to claw his hand off like a rat in a glue trap. With a pitiful gasp, he crumbled to dust, leaving just his clothes.

Shigaraki emerged from the closet a few minutes later and approached your door, knocking. You opened the door clad in only a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized top, flashing him a smile.

“Ah! My order! Thank you! Come in and place it on the table, I’ll get the money!”

Having thoughts of Incel!Shigaraki obsessed with Idol! Reader

Edit: Just realized I should warn y’all about a Noncon creampie.

MDNI

Like, imagine Shiggy watching every concert live at home. Buying all the merch available and keeping it in a little box in his closet. Buying tickets on a day off and attending because he wanted your true fan to be there supporting you.

You were his saving grace. The one thing that made him truly believe in something after hero society was eradicated. You made life worth living.

There’s multiple attacks during rival idol groups’ performances, as well as boy groups that people were getting a bit too comfortable shipping you with. But there’s never an attack during your performances.

He buys lingerie and sex toys themed after your idol group. Sprays the lingerie with perfume someone found on your dresser during a group AMA video and holds it to his face while fucking his fleshlight. He’s jerked himself raw watching you on more than one occasion. Fantasizing about meet cutes that lead to him fucking you backstage, in an alley, on a train, anywhere.

They’d always start with him making you laugh. He’s heard your laugh so many times that he can’t hear it without getting rock hard. You’d lean up to give him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Such a fucking tease, he’d think. He’d wrap an arm around your waist and kiss you properly. You’d be a panting, needy mess.

He’d whisper in your ear all the things he wanted to do to you, squeezing your sides. You’d murmur something about being in public, and he’d lead you to the closest slightly-secluded area he could find. He’d strip you naked and tell you to be quiet while he fucks you like a mutt.

You’d keep whimpering about how big he was. You were splitting open, you couldn’t take it, slowly morphing into how good he was fucking you, how much you loved him, “Please don’t stop”, “I’m cumming,”.

He’d grit out that he was gonna breed your cunt. You’d beg him to pull out, but he keeps going and as you’re begging him “Not inside, please not inside, you’ll get me pregnant” His hips stutter as he pushed himself as deep as he could reach, cumming inside with a lengthy groan. And it’s so much, it’d spill out around his cock.

He’d pull out and more would spill onto the floor. You’d reach down and touch the mess between your legs, flinching slightly at the stimulation. He’d tuck himself back in his boxers, snap a photo of your used cunt, kiss your cheek, and leave.

Then reality would come crashing back down as he calmed down. He turns to look at the video he was watching, paused on you eating a push pop, leaving rings of lipstick along the length. His cock twitched in his flesh light.

Such a fucking tease.

Shiggy is so gross and mean god I want him.

Shigaraki With a Girlfriend Headcanons

Warnings: fem reader as title suggests, sex, dub-con, shigaraki isn't healthy, fluffy if you can get past the darkish content, domestic abuse themes, misogynistic Tomura, anal mention, a lot of headcanons, typos but i don't have time to fix them right now

18+ Minors Don't Interact

Mellows out more, especially if he's around you and you alone

When Shigaraki has you around others he can get a bit cocky. He likes showing off his cute little girlfriend and how he's got such a cutie absolutely obsessed with him

When it's only you and him he's kind of domestic, surprisingly. You'll find him often coming up to cuddle you or touch you somehow and drag you to play games with him. Or more accurately you watch him game while he kisses and bites your neck

He likes doing cheesy couple things you'll come to find, such as going for walks, movies, out to eat, or just cuddle in bed for a while

That said, he's actually very cuddly once he's sure he can control touching you. If you're immune to his quirk, he'll still doubt it for a while and will touch you as if he's touching a hot stove. Once he knows you won't crumble, you won't be able to get him off of you

And if you aren't immune, those gloves that the doctor gave him as a child will make a comeback

He sort of doesn't even believe he has a GIRLFRIEND?!?! Makes him cackle and giggle sometimes

You can draw those cackles out by kissing his face and letting him touch you however he wants

He's horny so very horny

He's never had someone touch him so lovingly and without fear. He loves it. He loves that you love him.

As codependent as it is, you're pretty much the only thing he loves. That, and video games. And yes, he respects and appreciates his comrades. But love, as in genuinely caring for someone and wanting to see them happy? Only you

His temper is short and it's easy to piss him off but he sort of teaches himself a "count to 10" strategy for you. He doesn't actually want to hurt you or your feelings. Though he'll admit, seeing your eyes water when he does something bad makes that sick, evil part of him smile

He can get...carried away. During sex sometimes, too. He's actually very eager to please you and make you horny for him. It wouldn't be fun if you didn't crave his cock, right?

However, even if he knows there's something he's doing that's making you feel violated and timid, he'll still do it. You'll have to speak up, but even then he might banter with you, "come onnn..but you're so pretty thoughhh~"

After the fact he'll pull you into snuggle and sleep with him. He considers that his act of redemption.

In case it didn't dawn on you, he's evil

He's able to be down to earth with you too and will open up about things he'd never tell others with you. He trusts you thoroughly

His mommy issues may get taken out on you sometimes, and not even just in the sexy way. He can get very pouty and bratty with you or even just needy for attention. He'd melt and fall asleep in seconds if you let him lay on your boobs while you pet his hair.

He loves you sooo much. I've said that, but for real. His form of love is sick. Maybe it's better to say that he's obsessed with you. He wants you all the time, and wants you to be his and his ONLY.

That said, he's the boyfriend who goes through phones. He paid attention when you put in your password while he was behind you. He'll look through your messages to make sure there's no guys or funny people. He'll turn on location features while you're unaware so he can check on your location when he's not with you.

He'll look through your porn history too but he most likely won't be mad at anything he sees. It'll just make him horny and he'll pester you with questions. "Hehe you're into that?!" "Would it make you ooey gooey if I did that to you?" "Nasty whore hehehe."

Will take pictures of you without your permission, lewd or just innocent. He misses you when you're away and likes to look at them.

He doesn't show them to people except that one time he did let Dabi see a filthy video he took once while you and him were fucking. Dabi questioned his sexual abilities, so naturally he had to prove him wrong.

If anyone disrespected you the only person who could stop him is you, to be honest. He won't tolerate it and will absolutely hurt someone in your honor.

If anyone looked at you sexually or touched you: dead

Doubts himself a lot and makes you feel guilty for it. He'll pester you. Is he good enough for you? Do you not love him? Is he ugly? Is his dick too small? He's too crazy for you right? Too bad? Too damaged? There's no way you love him, you lying bitch!

He's kind of misogynistic. Mansplains. Complains about how women accuse men of shit that "they don't do" and then proceeds to do said things

Didn't take your period cramps seriously at first because he couldn't fathom how they were that bad. He thought you were being dramatic. He learned soon though after seeing your genuine face of pain and the way you'd close in on yourself. He actually felt bad.

Sometimes he'll even give you the princess treatment. Spoil you with kisses, cuddles, and games. He'll bring some snacks too. Maybe pull you into the shower if he's a smelly that day.

Boobies guy. But also loves butts. Actually, he can't pick. Because he loves sucking on titties but also likes putting his dick up your ass (when you let him coax you into it). He loves your body so much, but he's not THAT shallow. It's the fact that it's YOUR body on YOU, attached to your cute facial expressions, and your cute personality.

Sex with him varies. It can be pretty sexy and sensual actually. You'd be surprised how much Tomura just wants some genuine love and affection. But it can also very easily be rough and animalistic

All that hate and rage inside Tomura gets taken out on your wet pussy. You'll be sore. He'll say sorry and kiss you afterwards.

If you want him to brush his teeth, you have to take him with you. If you treat it as a "bonding time" between you and him he'll do it. Otherwise Tomura doesn't bother most of the time. His breath smells. It's bad sometimes. When he flosses once every 8 months there's a pool of blood in the sink. Probably has gum disease.

Collects figures! And he'll never demand that you buy him things but if you did he'd be super embarrassed, but also grateful. He'll just not be able to show it well. He'll probably just hide his face and mutter a little.."thank yew". But the fact that you care about him like that makes his heart HURT

These love feelings confuse him because he fucking HATES how tight his chest feels and how heavy his bones and foggy his head is when he finds himself simping for you so damn much. But he also LOVES you. You're his one and only and his only reason for ever doing anything generous to anybody. If he wasn't so fucking stubborn you'd probably be enough to "save" him

Accidental Boyfriend (Tomura Shigaraki x F!Reader)

Words: 5.5k // mdni (part 1)

Tw: reader's drink gets spiked, college au, heroes and villains are reversed(?), izuku stalks reader, fluff?, accidental dating, tomura's scatching described as a tick and will later be talked about as self harm, autistic!Tomura implied, idiots in love, gamer bf x artist gf, buckle up, (dialog heavy I wasn't feeling like writing well sorry)

Teaser: “I'm your boyfriend duh? I googled how to be a good boyfriend all night and one of the main things is safety and protection.”

It's a short circuit decision. Well, it's no decision at all since you're forced to do something– anything. He looks like he's no trouble… judging by the fact that he is sitting all alone on the couch during a house party just staring at the wall ahead. It is kinda weird. He looks like he might be nice enough though. Blue hair, dressed in a cozy black hoodie and you spot the septum piercing last. You hope. You have to take your chances. You sit down next to him.

“Hey, I know this is so weird and random but can you be my boyfriend? My stalker is right there and won't leave me alone,” you tell him. “I am so sorry to inconvenience you but… I need help for a sec to get rid of him.”

The blue haired guy looks at you and there is no reaction on his face whatsoever. Nothing. Death would be impressed. He just stares up at you with his crimson eyes like you're an abstract painting he doesn't get.

Is he deaf?! Or does he not speak your language?! You turn around to spot Izuku coming closer and your stomach twists. You can run… but if he catches you alone outside what then? No. The guy slings his arm around you, his hand comes to rest on your hip. So he did hear you? You lean into his side. Your heart is pounding so hard but you settle.

“Oh, (Y/N), there you–” He sees the hand on your hip and looks at the figure next to you. His face hardens instantly.

“Hi, Midoriya! Have you met my boyfriend?” You say.

“Y-You are dating Tomura Shigaraki?”

Tomura Shigaraki? Should that name ring any bells? He says it so… so… almost fearfully?

“Piss off,” the boy next to you, Tomura, mumbles through his teeth and you feel your stomach sink watching Izuku shrink. It was so inaudible, barely translating over the party commotion and yet it has Izuku tensed up.

“I am sorry to bother!” He leaves without another word, fists tensing by his side.

Now… Izuku is a big, muscle packed guy and the dude next to you is anything but that. He is lean and about your height? What just happened?

“It's not nice to tell people to piss off like that,” you say and bring some distance between him and you again. He retracts his hand.

“Thought he stalks you? Why be nice?” His voice is like sandpaper. It never raises or changes and stays monotonous just like his expression. You are unable to be read his face. He just is there… existing.

“Fair point--Tomura, was it?”

His eyes stare at you and you can hardly hold his gaze. He looks tired… and should chug about 4 litres of water to rehydrate. “I am (Y/N).”

He doesn't reply.

“Usually you'd say nice to meet you or something,” you mumble after a moment of dead cold silence passes.

“It was not nice?” He mumbles, looking at you… his eyes are cold but also attentive.

Your face reddens. Right. “I am sorry. Thank you! This night is a disaster.” You get up and bow to him. “Thank you again! I am a total bother. I apologize!” You walk a few steps but suddenly feel weird. You rub your forehead and tumble a bit holding onto the couch's backrest. “Why… why do I feel dizzy? I didn't even… drink alcohol… just some soda.” You brush it off and put a smile on your face. “Thanks, Tomura!”

》》》》

“Go low.”

You stir. Your whole body hurts and you feel like someone ran you over. Who is talking?

“Nah… your aim was off. I got you.”

This isn't your bed… it's too messy and smells like the sheets haven't been washed in forever… What happened? You groan as a sharp pain hits your head. Holy shit. You can't be hungover. You remember Shigaraki and them… nothing.

“I'm not turning my camera on. Stop bothering. You have– huh. I'm going AFK.”

You sit up. Gosh is this room messy. Your gaze is naturally attracted to the light spilling in through the gaps in the drawn curtains and that's when you see him. Tomura. He is sitting at his desk, turning in his gaming chair slowly toward you. Your world stops.

“You're finally awake,” he rasps. That same monotonous voice… maybe a bit softer.

Your body floods with panic. You look down on yourself. This isn't your shirt. No. No way. No way in hell.

“I didn't know if I should take you to the cops… the drugs they used should still be traceable if you go now. I googled.”

“W-what?” You stare at him.

Tomura sighs. “That Izuku guy and some of his friends must have spiked your drink or something? When you left the party you could hardly walk straight and they were waiting by the door… so I took you here since I don't know where you live.” He explains it so cooly like it's not a horrible thing to say. But he does know… He just can't show.

You draw short breaths and your lip quivers, tears sprout in your eyes and slowly travel down your tender cheeks. You try to wipe them but they don't stop coming. You are shaking all over. You never thought it would go this far. “Why did you do that?”

“I'm your boyfriend duh? I googled how to be a good boyfriend all night and one of the main things is safety and protection.”

You sniff and chuckle. So he's got jokes after all. “Tomura… thank you for looking out for me,” you sniff.

He shrugs, slouching there in his chair. “You threw up on your clothes… I put them in a trash bag in the bathroom. Just so you know.”

“I am so sorry.”

He shrugs again and itches his neck for a second then sits down on his hands. You definitely noticed the retraining he just practised on himself. “There's some Ramen and water… I have to get back to the game. Is that okay?”

You nod.

Tomura turns toward the desk again and puts the headset on. “I'm back. You guys suck without me.”

You wipe your tears. There is so much to think about. Do you wanna go to the police? Not really. There is no way to prove it was them spiking the drink. You know how this will go. Your head hurts.

You get up and walk to his bathroom. “Oh boy.” You have been to guy's dorm rooms before and they are never clean but Tomura has a problem. You wash your face and then use his electric cattle.

Can you say something?

“I am carrying you again,” he tells whoever he is talking to, clicking on the keyboard. “Stop bothering about the camera. Holy shit. Concentrate on the map.”

He sounds different. The color of his voice… it is more lively. You like it. You walk to the small kitchen area and grimace. Has he done dishes at all since uni started? You don't think so.

You open some drawers and find trash bags and dish soap and, thank the heavens, rubber gloves as well. You look for your phone and find it on the nightstand; plugged in.

He was even mindful enough to plug your phone in? That's sweet. You open Crunchyroll and lean the phone against the top shelf, then you start by sorting through the dishes. Sometimes you let it get this bad too. You don't judge him for it. It is what it is. You are in the zone super quickly, not realizing he approaches.

“You don't have to do that?”

Your body flashes with a current as his aura washes over you. He stands too close. You can feel the soft warmth of his body radiating.

You look up at him. “I know. I want to. Do you mind?”

“Do girlfriends do that?”

What a weird question? You shrug it off. “Well… if their boyfriend struggles then I think girlfriends help and support but a girlfriend is not a mother, of course.”

“I see,” he nods.

“I'm doing it as a thank you. Is that cool?”

“I guess. What are you watching?” He squints at your phone.

“Sugar apply fairytale… it's shojo.”

He nods. His gaze is so intense. You don't know what he wants. You can't read him one bit. Come of it… He reminds you a lot of Shall Fen Shall. “Do you want me to go?”

His eyebrows pinch and he itches at his neck again. “N-no? I don't… mind you being here.”

“Then let me clean to compensate you for all the inconvenience and we call it even and I'll be out of here?” You smile.

Tomura nods. “Do you want headphones? You can barely hear?” He says and mentions to the phone. He opens his backpack and gives you his overhead headphones then returns to his desk.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

You finish the kitchen and remember that you wanted to make tea. Now you have clean cups for that. You get the cattle going again and add a tea bag. You turn to Tomura.

“Shoot, you dingus!” He raises his voice a little. It's followed by a little laugh. You smile.

You push one of the ear cuffs back and step up to him. “Do you want tea?” You smile.

Tomura looks up at you, his eyes are kind of wide and his lips slightly parted. “Y-yes.”

The cattle clicks and you pour the water into the cups.

“Shut up. My girlfriend’s with me.”

Funny. Real comedian.

“Shut up. No… you don't know her. No! I am not making it up! I won't turn my camera on.”

“Hi, Tomura's friend,” you say as you put the cup on the desk. You wink at him and move on to the bathroom.

“I won't tell you. Shut up now. Let's game.”

But somehow Tomura can't really concentrate anymore. He watches the tea steam and takes a sip. “Of course she's cute. She's beautiful. Don't ask me that stuff. Shut up, Spin! I'm logging off.”

“Tomura?” You peek your head out from the bathroom.

“Just shut up!” He presses a button harshly and takes off his headset. “Yes?”

“Do you know that you have to clean your shower?” You ask. It's not accusatory or judgemental. It's a question. “Did anyone show you how to clean? Like your family?”

He blinks. But why… there is water running down the shower… why clean it? He doesn’t understand.

You have your answer. “Give me your tiktok? I will send you some good cleantok videos that explain how it works. That's how I learned it too.”

“Okay. T-thank you.”

He watches how you start to scrub the shower floor. “What are you playing?”

“Mostly fps games,” he shrugs.

Frames per second? What? No… that cannot be it. “Ah. Are you good at it?”

He nods– shrugs. “You could say that.”

You tug your hair back and use his headphones to keep it out of your face. It's really cute. He likes it.

“Are you hungry?” Tomura asks and grabs his phone.

“I mean… yeah.”

“Sushi? I pay.”

“Isn't that too expensive?” You frown.

“No?” He doesn't understand the question.

“Okay?” Is he secretly rich?

You finish up and sit back on his bed with your now lukewarm tea, watching his screen. FPS must stand for first person shooter. You giggle.

“What?” Tomura looks at you. He immediately thinks he did something awkward.

“You said FPS and I study Animation, right, so to me that means frames per second,” you explain.

“Oh,” his lips curl a little. “That is funny.”

“Yeah. What do you study?”

“Business.”

“Oh?” Your face twists in utter surprise. “I didn't expect that. Do you like it?”

“Enough,” he shrugs. “My dad makes me do it.”

“Ah… I understand,” you nod and bring the cup up to your lips. “I hate my dad, too.”

Tomura chokes on his tea and looks at you.

You shrug. “What?” You laugh. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I hate him.”

“Boyfriend–girlfriend bonding,” you go along with the joke.

“Yes,” he smiles a little.

The food is delivered and you watch how he turns one of his screens toward the bed then opens Crunchyroll. He searches for Sugar Apple Fairytale.

“What episode are you on?”

“5.” You watch him closely. He is cute for letting you watch your thing. The boys you dated always whined when you said you love romance anime. You think it's cute. He is cute. In a harmless way. He isn't really your type but Tomura is cute. Are you blushing?!

Tomura starts the episode and sits down next to you. “What is it about?”

“Fairies! It is Grumpy x Sunshine which is one of my favourite tropes!”

You spend a few more hours together, mostly decluttering and then it is time for you to go back to your own dorm. You almost don't want to leave. Something about Tomura's presence is making you feel safe and at ease.

“Thank you again,” you bow to him as you stand in the hallway. “It could have… ended badly.”

“Just give me a call if you need me. You have my number now,” he nods and tries to smile a bit.

“Thank you,” you nod and want to turn away but he leans in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. You freeze.

“Goodbye, gf. Thank you for… the cleaning, you know. I'll do my best to not let it get that bad again.”

“It was the least I could do… bye.”

Oh, the joke may have gone a bit too far now.

》》》》

You are sitting with Ochako scribbling a storyboard for one of your classes. You are telling her all about that night. What Izuku and co probably have done and that Tomura Shigaraki saved you.

“Shigaraki?!” She looks at you, deadpanning. “Holy shit, stay away from him!”

“Huh,” you look up and blink at her. “I just told you that he–”

“He killed his family? You don't know that? And he's kinda famous and has like crazy fangirls I hear. He's also super weird and creepy.”

“Izuku stalks and drugs me and you focus on some rumors and Tomura being– well, nerdy and emo? He is nice.” It fills you with rage. You don't know why. You don't have to be protective of him… he's a stranger. He is not your boyfriend. You really know nothing about him at all… why if he's–. “Let's not talk about it.” What's this about him killing his family? This is ridiculous? You sigh and turn back to the page but the sun gets blocked suddenly.

You look up. “Tomura!” He has the hood of his sweater pulled up over his pale blue hair and he looks even more exhausted than before. His lips are more cracked as well. You honestly just want to give him a lip balm.

“(Y/N), hello,” he nods. “How have you been?”

“Good? What about you?” You smile.

“Yeah.” You notice he avoids the question and instead opens his backpack and gets out a bookstore bag. “Here.”

You frown but take it. Did you forget something at his place? “What is it?” You look inside to find 3 volumes of a manga you have been meaning to pick up for a while.

“The women said it is grumpy x sunshine… so I got it for you,” Tomura rasps. “I read them already so we can talk about it. I have to go to class now.” He awkwardly leans down and presses a kiss to your temple.

Your eyes are the size of the moon in utter shock and your stomach churns. What is going on? What in the world is happening? You stuff your things into your bag and run after him, abandoning Ochako.

“Tomura, hold up!”

“Hm?” He turns.

“What is this about?” You can hardly hear yourself over how loud your heart beats. No you have an idea but… that is so ridiculous.

He blinks and sighs. “I-is it wrong? Did I act wrong? I googled and it said to make your girlfriend gifts and show interest in the things she likes. Do I need to do it differently? Tell me! I'll do better!”

Your stomach sinks as it dawns on you. His jokes… It never was a joke. He does not make jokes. Oh god. He really thinks… he took you seriously? No way. And now he looks at you like a wounded puppy. He is really worked up about it? He is putting in so much effort. How could you possibly crush him?! No. No. You can't do it. Holy shit. How did you get in this situation?!

“No! You are fine! Just–”

“Shiggy, we'll be– Oh, is that your girlfriend? No way… you didn't lie,” a pink haired guy walks up next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Hi, I'm Spinner.”

“(Y/N), hi,” you say.

Tomura blinks at you. Did you want to say something or not? Did he already fuck up? He hates being this way. It is so weird how he got a girlfriend… he didn't think it would happen that way. He does not want to lose you already.

“Let's meet later?” You ask.

“Okay,” Tomura nods.

Oh god. You have to tell him somehow. How do you let him down gently though? You have no idea. You don't know anything about each other. How can he believe that you are dating… this is so strange. But you are so very aware he isn't doing it with any bad intentions… he truly doesn't know better and that makes it so hard to let him know this was never real.

You can hardly concentrate the rest of the day. You come up with every possible conversation starter for telling Tomura that you're not a couple but nothing seems sufficient.

And when you see him waiting for you outside your building, your heart just breaks. Your thinking shifts suddenly. What if you accidentally got a boyfriend? Would that be so bad? He's a cool guy… you'd just have to get to know– no… that just wouldn't be fair at all. It would be a lie… it would be out of pity.

“Hi, Tomura,” you try to smile and sit down next to him. People rush home around you as you sit on the stairs leading to the building.

“Hi.”

“We have to talk,” you say and watch how his eyes darken with sadness. Already? No no no.

“Oh… I read that's what girlfriends say when they break up. No… it's fine. I know I'm…. A degenerate.” It's like you can physically see him become smaller, shrinking. It is sad. You don't have the heart. Holy shit you want to scream. He looks so exhausted – exhausted that it is so hard to connect with people and that no one understands him.

You can't do it.

“Did you spent the last few days researching how relationships work?” You crook an eyebrow at him. He gives a nod. “You're cute.”

“Huh?” His mouth gapes ever so slightly and his eyes widen at you.

“Let's spend some time together tonight?” You ask. “Grab some dinner and do some class work?”

“O-okay?” You are weird but he doesn’t care. He knows he's desperate but he has been thinking about you nonstop. The way you just helped him get his apartment back on track and then also send him resources so he can learn how to clean for himself. Just because you wanted to help him… he can't let it go. It makes him feel so… heard. You didn't scold or judge him. You just helped.

You get up. “Let's just go to the cafeteria?” You are broke as fuck this month and couldn't afford anything else.

“Okay?” If that's what you want.

“Spinner seems nice,” you say. “Is he your best friend?”

“Yeah.”

You puff out some air. He's hard to have conversations with.

“The girl you were with, is she your best friend?”

Oh, a question. “Ochako is my roomie. We are pretty close,” you smile. “My best friend is back home though.”

“I don't have any friends back home,” he chuckles. You look at him worried. Tomura waves his hands and smiles. “Oh, no. I meant that in a… you know… funny way.”

“I see,” you smile. “So, I have heard some things about you.”

Tomura feels his chest tighten. You are still talking to him though so… maybe you haven't heard too much.

“Are you a famous gamer or something?”

“Oh… yeah. I stream and post on YouTube,” he says quietly.

“That's so cool. My bestie does that too. It's crazy how involved people get. So… you have like a fan base and all?”

Tomura nods. “Some of the hardcore fangirls won't like I have a girlfriend now… but I don't have to tell anyone about you yet… right?” He looks at you for confirmation.

You nod instantly, eyes a bit wide. “Wait… just how famous are you? Is that why you didn't want me to see your tiktok?” You frown and move your head closer. He only gave you his number so you had to send him links… you didn't understand why but brushed it off.

Tomura can smell your perfume for a second and nearly trips over his own shoes. You catch him, grabbing his arm. “Watch out,” you smile softly.

Oh, your smile. Tomura feels lightheaded every time. “S-sorry.” Your smile is what really gets to him… you smile so freely. He loves it so much.

“What for? How old are you by the way?”

“22. You?”

“Me too.’

He nods. “So… you're not from here?”

“Nope. I am a whole country gal.”

Tomura smiles subtly. “I see.” You're weird but so cool. He wants to spend every free second with you. Oh damn… does that make him a… simp?! “Do you play any games?”

“Not really but I'm up for trying! Will You teach me?”

“Yes! Sure! Of course! I think I know a game you could like.”

You look up at him and smile. He looks so excited and your stomach churns. Maybe this isn't too bad? You will just see where this goes? Maybe you end up falling for him? Some fake dating plot turning real? Why not… he seems to be fine with the situation as it is right now?

“Oh–”

Tomura grabs your arm and pulls you into his side. You were so focused on his joy that you must have missed someone coming the other way.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Tomura asks.

“Yes… thank you,” you tell him then swiftly turn. “I am so sor– Izuku.”

“(Y/N)! Didn't see you there!” He beams. He always beams and it is such a creepy smile. Izuku makes the hair on the back of your neck stand with fear. It is the first time you see him since the party and your body freezes completely. “Sor–”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tomura barks and steps in front of you. “You did it on purpose, do you think I'm fucking stupid?” He shoves at Izuku.

“Tomura…” You look at him in utter confusion. Not at what he says… he might as well be right. Izuku seems to always be the one you physically bump into… weirdly enough. You are confused about the volume that Tomura's voice can climb to. You didn't expect it. There is so much rage inside of him.

“Wow… call your guard dog back,” Izuku laughs. “I am glad you're fine.” Izuku reaches out to touch your arm but Tomura intercepts the touch.

“Fuck off,” he tells the taller Izuku and Izuku leaves with a last look at you. What a fucking creep?! Tomura saw it. He saw it. How dare he?!

“Tomura?”

Tomura turns to look at you and his stomach sinks. He fucked up now. Oh, he really did fuck it. He shouldn't have done that. Why is he so incapable? Why does he ruin everything?

You watch how his hands fly up to his neck and start scratching violently. You reach your hand out but he backs away.

“I have to go,” he chokes out and hurries into the opposite direction. Running away is better than facing you. He does not want to see you look at him with fear… just like his–

Your body doesn't move for a moment. What are you doing? You are not really dating this guy? Why do you care? Your heart races in your ribcage begging your body to move.

“Tomura!” You run and catch up with him. “Are you okay? What's– oh god– stop!” You grab his wrists. “You're bleeding.”

And then somehow he ends up in your dorm room, sitting on your bed as you gather some band aids. Tomura has no recollection of how he got here. Its a blur. He thinks your hand was holding his. Now he is looking at your manga collection in the soft warmth of fairy lights, smelling clean laundry and your parfum.

“You have a lot of pillows,” he says.

“Yeah,” you shrug.

“I once read that lonely people sleep with more pillows.”

You blink at him. “Okay? You have a lot of pillows too.” You frown and kneel down on the bed beside him. You use a damp cloth first and clean up the dried blood. “What was that about?”

“I don't know… got nervous.”

“Don't lie.”

He looks at you. Everyone else would have run away at how weird he acted. “Aren't you… mad?”

“I am worried? Why would I be mad?” He truly is a mystery. “Are you okay?”

He doesn't answer. You put bandaids on his scratches and sit back. He looks like a wet dog now. Slouching, making himself small and wanting to be anywhere but here. What changed all of a sudden? You are so confused. You want the Tomura back that was starting to get comfortable.

You lean close and place a kiss on one of the bandaids. Tomura jolts back and looks at you bewildered. “Makes it heal quicker,” you say.

“That's not… medically proven, is it?” He rasps.

“It's real,” you smile. “Will you tell me why you got so upset?”

He doesn't get it. Why aren't you upset? You should be upset?! Tomura sighs and drops onto your pillows.

You look at him with a tight frown. He's not your boyfriend… so why… because he needs it? Is that? Your helper syndrome always kicks in at the worst times.

You lay down too, making him the little spoon. Your hands are reluctant, careful, as you sling one arm around him. You feel him stiffen up instantly.

“Is that okay?” You ask.

He nods. “Just… unfamiliar.” He pauses. “But I like it.”

You nuzzle your face into his back. Maybe he's right. Maybe you're terribly lonely… Maybe this is okay. You like it too.

“Izuku did do it on purpose. He always does.” You murmur.

“I… still shouldn't have–”

“I remember what you said at the party. Why be nice to my stalker? Like… duh… why didn't I think of that.”

Tomura snorts. “What? Someone puts a gun to your head and you smile?” Maybe it is because you're from the country side. Maybe you are too nice? Is that possible? Tomura wishes more people would be too nice then.

“Probably.”

He chuckles but gets quiet. “My dad… he doesn't want me to act… like that.”

Like that? Aggressive? Protective? “You protected me… I think that was fair. You said yourself that is what boyfriends are supposed to do.”

Tomura stays quiet. His hand slowly moves to yours and your fingers lock together. He feels so torn. This feels so good. You are so warm and soft and it makes him feel warm and soft for a change… but at the same time it is terrifying. Tomura knows he's not worthy of things like this. Yet…

You squeeze him a little. “Your dad sounds like a dick.”

Tomura laughs. It is a real laugh. He does not know where it comes from and you don't know why it makes your chest feel tight. You pull away and plop yourself on your elbow, looking at him.

“Your laugh is pretty,” you smile.

He blushes and looks away.

“So… the itching is a tick? Do you do something to cope instead of hurting yourself?” You ask.

“Why do you ask that so casually?” He sigh.

You don't understand the question. What else are you supposed to do? It is obvious and it is okay. “It is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I have fidget toys on my keychain.”

“Why didn't you use them?”

“Huh? Because you would have thought I was weird!?” He raises his head to look at you.

“You're already weird,” you say. “That's nothing bad, though? I draw furry porn when I need money… that's weird too. If it keeps you from hurting yourself… Please use them. I won't judge.”

Quiet.

“Can I see?” He frowns.

You chuckle and get your phone out showing him the folder. His jaw drops.

“What the… fuck?” Tomura looks at you.

“Furries pay so well,” you say.

Tomura laughs again. “What else do you draw? Anime porn?”

“Am I so easy to read?” You grin. “My Sukuna porn is very popular.”

“Sukuna?!”

“With the 4 arms.”

“No.”

“Yep.”

“Show.”

“You need to unlock that part of lore first.”

He smiles. “I see.”

Your eyes lock and there is so much softness in the gaze you share. No… he's full of softness. And he wants to let it out, he begs to share it. Your chest feels tight again.

The door clicks open and you both sit up quickly.

“Oh?” Ochako says.

“Hi!” You say and jump off the bed. “Tomura, Ochako. It was an emergency,” you say and grab the first aid kid, putting it back.

Tomura waves at Ochako. “Hi.”

Ochako just grimaces. You frown.

“I should go,” Tomura gets up and takes his bag. “Thank you, (Y/N),” he says and bows to you.

“Yeah? No problem? Will you be okay?” You hurry after him as he walks to the door a bit too quickly.

“Sure. Bye.”

The door closes, leaving you confused again.

“Please, don't bring him here, okay?” Ochako says. “He's not a good guy.”

“What do you mean?” You look at her with squinted eyes. “Like… what? He's–” You sigh. You don't want to fight.

“Is he not leaving you alone after what happened at the party?” Ochako unpacks her bag. “That's scary.”

Huh?! She has never said that about Izuku once and Izuku has been forcing his way into your room before. “No… we wanted to hang out.”

“But you're not for real dating, right?” Ochako looks at you like you're crazy.

Your tongue doesn't work for a second then your phone rings. “That's my bestie. I gotta–” You take your phone and walk outside sitting down in the empty hallway. How will you tell him about this? He will burn you alive. “Yes?”

“Sup, girlie?”

“Too much. I accidentally got a boyfriend.”

“– what?! How do you accidentally get a boyfriend?! Explain that shit to me.”

You tell him the story leaving out some things. You don't tell Touya about the spiked drink. You know he'd raise hell and Izuku would walk out of it with broken bones. “And now… now I kinda think I wanna see where this goes. He's cute… maybe something–”

“Bitch, it's all a lie, tho? Is that fair to him?”

“I get what you're saying but I think I would… I think telling him that I never meant to actually date him and it was just to scare off Izuku… He'd be crushed and discouraged.”

“How the hell did you get in this situation? And why the fuck would you not clear it up? Are you taking drugs or something?”

“I have no idea,” you whine. “You should have come by and dealt with Izuku, I guess.”

“Didn't you say you don't like violence?” His breathy laughs rings.

“I changed my mind. Why be nice to Izuku… right?”

“Oh… ya boyfriend has a good influence on you?”

“Shut up?” You smile. “He's cool. He plays games too. FPS or whatever.”

“Immediate red flag.”

“Oh, cmon. He's nice.”

“I'm your bestie. I have to hate your boyfriend… even if he's just an accidental one. You will have to tell him eventually.”

“I know… I will. I just… I think he needs the safety, you know? Don't worry.”

“Tsk. You have a stalker and an accidental boyfriend… sure I worry.”

“Touya.”

“Gotta log in to my gaming sesh, will you be okay?”

“Yes. Have fun! Oh! Will you like… make a list with gamer abbreviations. Like what is afk?”

Touya laughs and the line goes dead.

You get up and walk back inside and Ochako stands right at the door. You frown, a suspicious feeling washes over you but you brush it off unknowingly of what's to come.

Your phone lights up again. You shouldn't feel so happy seeing his name. But then again… Why not? It's so weird. You didn't think this is how you'd get a boyfriend.

[Tomura Shigaraki, party bf:] good night <3

Dry tears on my cheek

Emptyness in my heart

Its all dark in here,

When it was all soft and warm

The sheets smelling like you, soft like silk

Red eyes watching for one last prayer

My heart singing your name with loyalty

My head light as snow

It all vanish in a new dark room.

Mine.

In the cold bed of an empty room

Me and my momory already blur

It was just a dream.