Why Not A Baby Chicken? In France We Can By Them As Food ^^ Its Clean But Its Still In His Natural Form.

why not a baby chicken? In France we can by them as food ^^ its clean but its still in his natural form. Some care prefer those^^

As this cat is not your first rescue, you have some baby chicken in your freezer. You try to put one on the floor near the cat. Based on the look on its face, the cat seems to question this dead chicken and the choices you make. Looks like the feral cat is a picky eater.

Your Touch

Your fingers brushed ever so softly against his own, careful not to touch all five. His rough, dry, and calloused hands felt so different compared to your own. But you loved them. You loved him. You smile as your thumb softly presses slightly into his wrist. Yes, even his wrists were pretty to you. So thin, so delicate. People would normally not spare a passing glance at him, if they had not already known who he was. He was so, unlike someone to be feared. A frail, skinny twenty something year old man. A shut in. A "freak".

But no, he was so much more than that. If to no one else, than to you. He was to be respected, never underestimated, to be feared. And yet, from the very first day you met him, you never did fear him. If anything, you did feel that respect, you never underestimated him in anyway, you admired him. Soon that admiration would grow into something stronger. And before you knew it, here you were. In his dark room, in his bed. Playing with those dangerous hands of his.

"You're fucking crazy. You know that?"

Oh how you loved the sound of his voice. Some would be turned away from the rasp, the roughness of his voice. But not you. You look up from his hand. "Am I?" You grin. "How so?" He looked at you, the light from his tv screen reflecting off of his ruby eyes. He gave you a look, the kind of look that said, you should already know. "Just look at what you're doing right now."

"What? I'm just doing what I always do." You say before turning your attention back to his hands. His flat rough palms brushed against yours, intertwining your fingers with his longer ones. He was always careful not to use his fifth one on you.

"I could kill you. Dust you within seconds."

"Mhm. I know."

"Then stop."

"Why should I?"

You could hear his annoyed huff from above you. You giggled and moved your hand away from his. "If you really want me to stop, I will. Do you want me to stop?" He said nothing. You put your hand on top of his. "That's what I thought."

"You're crazy."

"So I've heard." You chuckle. "I know very well what you are capable of Shiggy." That nickname, coming from anyone else would have been an insult. "I just, want to do this."

"Why?"

You look up at him with a grin, bringing his hand up to your cheek. "I like your hands." You could have sworn you saw a bit of pink dusting his cheeks, but his blue locks were in the way. "But, they're not the only things I like about you."

"I like, your hair." You lean in closer to him. "Your eyes." You brush some of his hair out of his face. "Your scars." You gently swipe your thumb against his scar on his lip. "Everything about you, is so perfect Shiggy."

He couldn't take much more of this. He hid his face in your neck, making you laugh lightly. "It's true." You assure him.

And it was. Never once have you lied about his beauty. And that's exactly what it is, beauty. You felt him wrap his arms around you tight, you move your arms around him as well. Petting his tangled blue hair.

"I love every part of you. But your hands, are my favorite."

"That's a crazy thing to say."

"Well, I am crazy, according to you." You joke. "Yeah, still true." He tells you before pulling back from you. You take his hands again. "So pretty." You murmur.

You loved his hands. You loved him. Every inch of him.

And he felt the same about you. Your touch was so...soothing. Your touch made him feel alive. Your touch made him feel something again. He was addicted. He never wanted to let you go. He wanted this all the time. He wanted your touch all the time.

He needed, your touch.

(Sorry, this one is short. I might get into making more Shiggy stories, idk yet. Hope you enjoy anyway~)

438 notes View Post

flamme-shigaraki-spithoe

11 months ago

I didn’t put this WIP on the list for the WIP game, but I’m hyped about it, so here is an excerpt from a fic inspired partially by a conversation with @sophsiaaa and written for a summer fic event hosted by @threadbaresweater! Shigaraki x reader, coffee shop au + ‘a day at the beach’:

Past noon, things slow down a bit. You decide to speed-clean the espresso machine, and you’re so focused on your work that you don’t notice the customer. It’s possibly also the customer’s fault, since he’s peering at you from over the drink pickup counter instead of standing by the cash register, and when he barks the question at you, it startles you badly. “What’s the password?”

“On the WiFi?” You tuck your burned hand behind your back. “No password. Find a place to sit down and have at it.”

The customer looks disconcerted. Or at least you think he does — the lower half of his face is covered with a surgical mask, and given that he doesn’t have eyebrows, it’s hard to read his expression. “Why?”

“Why isn’t there a password?” You haven’t gotten that question yet. “I want people to be able to use it if they need it.”

“They’re gonna watch porn.”

“Me putting a password on the WiFi wouldn’t stop that,” you say. “And I’m not the Internet police. If somebody starts acting up, I’ll deal with it. If not — just use headphones.”

The customer’s expression twists. “I didn’t mean me.”

“Sure.” You’re not a moron. “It’s not my business what you do. Unless your business starts messing with my business. Seriously. Knock yourself out.”

The customer turns away, and you spend a second being extremely grateful that you went for single-occupancy bathrooms instead of multiple-stall bathrooms before you go back to cleaning the espresso machine. Your hand hurts, but it’s nothing running it under cold water won’t fix later. When you straighten up, there’s someone at the counter.

It’s porn guy, who you really shouldn’t call porn guy. Innocent until proven guilty and all that. You dry your hands and hurry over. “What can I get for you today?”

“Black coffee.”

“Sure. Anything else?”

The customer glances at the pastry case, then shakes his head. Then his stomach growls audibly. He knows you heard it. What little of his face is visible above the mask turns red. “No.”

“Tell you what,” you say. “I’ve got these new pastries the bakery wants me to try out, but next to nobody’s tried one yet. If you agree to tell me how it was, you can have it half off.”

“I have money.” The customer shoves a credit card across the counter to you, and you see that he’s wearing fingerless gloves. Or sort of fingerless gloves. They’re missing the first three fingers and that’s it. “I don’t need help.”

“No, but you’re helping me out,” you say. You add the pastry to his order and discount it by half, then fish it out of the case with a pair of tongs. “For here or to go?”

“Here.” The customer watches as you set it on a plate. “What is that?”

“It’s babka.”

“I can read. What is it?”

“I don’t really know,” you admit. Maybe that’s why people aren’t buying them. “The filling is chocolate and cinnamon, though. It’s hard to go wrong with that. It’ll be just a second with the coffee.”

You fill a mug, then point out the cream and sugar. Then you realize you still haven’t tapped the customer’s card. You finish ringing it up and glance at the cardholder’s name. Shimura Tenko. He hasn’t been in before today. You’re not the best with faces, but you never forget a name.

156 notes View Post

flamme-shigaraki-spithoe

1 year ago

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.

36 notes View Post

flamme-shigaraki-spithoe

1 year ago

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.

I LOVED Your Yandere Scp 49 Headcannons, And I Was Wondering If You Could Do A Oneshot (or Headcannons,

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.

609 notes View Post

flamme-shigaraki-spithoe

1 year ago

Sanctuary of Nightmares PT 4

Platonic SB x GN Child Reader

Chapter Selection

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Before I start I want to give a quick explanation of some personal headcanons and how I understand some lore that will make it easier to understand how I write some stuff in this story. Stick with me, this should only take a second.

Okay, first off my understanding is that Vanny/Vanessa hacked the coding of the robots to hunt down Gregory right? And I think that the way she did so was targeting him specifically as a threat, not just setting the animatronics to kill mode. Which is why they only seem to attack him throughout the game. They aren't outright hostile, they only see Gregory as a threat.

Secondly I headcanon that Sun is front and center in the daycare as the main animatronic because the first day Sun and Moon were tested they realized that when the lights go off Sun has to tear out his face to become Moon and, rather than remaking their design, they just decide to keep the lights on all the time. It was cheaper than remaking a whole animatronic. They also couldn't just seperate Moon from Sun because Moon's coding was interlaced with Suns.

Also, Moon's coding is where the security mode is. This is why in the game Sun isn't at all a threat to Gregory nor tries to be while Moon immediately sees Gregory as a threat due to the hacked coding.

Anyway! Enjoy the rest of the chapter!

- x -

As the puppet show continued your body began to slowly recognize its exhaustion. The weight of the day's events pulled at you, begging you to rest your tired eyes. Sun didn't notice at first, at least until after your third yawn. It was then that he paused the show, peaking over his built stage to fully realize your sleepiness.

"Tired? Already?! But it's so early in the night! We still have so much to do! I-" he stopped himself, your empty stare letting him know that playtime was over. You could barely keep your head up, let alone continue to play. Eventually the true reality of what came with that hit him.

He didn't deal with sleepy kids. Not once had he ever had to put one to bed or help them sleep, he simply wasn't built for it! That was supposed to be what his counterpart was supposed to do. It was a job taken by the nearby staff during the day

Yet now, as he stared at your exhausted form, a lull began to grow deep within his programming. It always pulled at him, always begged to be let out. In truth, he was terrified of it, of losing control. He didn't ever know what happened when his own hands tore away his consciousness, but he knew it was excruciatingly painful, not to mention horrifying for anyone watching. It had only ever happened a few times and each time he'd come back from that state he'd been left confused and scared.

Like a kid dropped off in the middle of nowhere...

He had always ignored that voice. He ignored its lull to be set free. The only contact he'd ever had with Moon was through what others told him. The staff had said that Moon could be dangerous, that the tearing off of his face could mess with his coding and corrupt the security measures meant to keep Moon and him from harming people. He'd been told countless times to never turn the light off, to keep Moon away at all costs. So that dark terrified him, the thought of becoming something that wasn't himself terrified him.

But that voice, that lulling voice! Staring at a tired child only seemed to worsen it! There was no staff to take you away, no alleviation from the sound. As if each yawn and attempt to keep yourself awake burned a sense of need in him. A need that wasn't his, a need deep in his being. It made his face itch and his fear spike. No no he couldn't! Not now! No! No no no-

"You can't do this on your own" the voice whispered.

The first full sentence he had ever heard it speak...

Why did it sound so soft? Like a comforting echo through his head, a deep yet peaceful noise that seemed to be able to dull even his sense of excitement. It didn't seem angry nor spiteful, its voice not as terrifying nor as creepy as he'd been told. And it's words- it's words! They dug into him, the sentiment something he knew was true. He needed help, he couldn't care for a child on his own.

"Let me help" it asked, the suggestion not one of greed or persistent pleading, but instead a request. Something he had every opportunity to ignore, yet he didn't really want to. The voice had successfully earned his attention, its sound similar to that of a lost friend, a part of himself he didn't know. One he'd come to fear, yet one he'd never met.

Suddenly Sun was pulled from his thoughts with a slight tug on his arm. He quickly looked down, surprised to see it was you. He hadn't even noticed you had gotten up. You stared with tired eyes yet your concern showed through, along with curiosity as you slightly tilted your head. Noticing the question implied in your actions he quickly snapped back to reality.

"O-Oh! Sorry, sorry! I just got lost in thought! Silly me! I-..."

"Please" the voice called with a clearer sound. Sun stared for another moment, your continued tired expression only further itching his mind.

"Fine!" Sun suddenly yelled, causing you to quickly pull away at the sudden outburst. Noticing that he'd startled you he felt a pang of guilt rush through him.

"Sorry! I-I didn't mean uh- to uh- scare! I didn't mean to scare...you! You I didn't mean to scare" he tried to apologize through broken sentences which only managed to further confuse you. Even so, you didn't have time to question it before he sprung up.

"You're tired! I uh, don't really know how to deal with that. But I know someone who does! Just stay here! I'll be right back!" He spoke quickly and with clear nervousness in his tone before he threw himself through a tub to a connected room. You were tempted to follow but quickly remembered he had told you to stay put. So, rather than upset him to satiate your own curiosity, you slowly took a seat on the ground, once again letting a yawn escape you as you did so.

The moment Sun had made it to the other room he could already feel that itching sensation get worse, the voice no longer speaking so much as echoing in sounds he couldn't understand. All he knew now was that he needed to find the least painful turn himself, a way that might not hurt. That's when he was reminded what he did in this roon.

Quickly he fell to the ground, moving some stuff around before finding a screwdriver still right where he left it, next to the arcade machine. It was a flat head screwdriver, one that he'd been using to try to fix said arcade machine that sat to his right. But now he found another use for it as he attempted to loosen the plate of his face. Every second that he waited he felt the itching feeling gnawing at him, especially as it began to burn.

He needed it off now now NOW!

The frantic nature of his movements grew until eventually the slow process was too much to bear as he instead used the screwdriver as a wedge device to pry away his face. However, due to the loosened screws, it came off almost immediately, the searing pain not even lasting long enough for him to scream out in agony.

Slowly Moon felt himself come too, his hands laid out in front of him, his eyes blinking to recognition as he spotted the sun plate of his counterpart. The pain was dulled by the time he took over, the senses of the animatronic body he inhabited coming back to him

It had been so long

It was only after fully recalibrating to his surroundings that the gleam of the nearby lights registered, creating discomfort in his system. Slowly he stood, though he had to cover his eyes to relieve himself of the discomfort.

Why was he here again? He had wanted to help Sun, to be allowed to do something. What had it been? It had felt so important-

A soft sound caught his attention, the unmistakable sound of a little yawn. It all immediately came back to him, the reason why he was set free.

"Hello?" He called. He was met with silence, the quietness and comfort of silence. Though in this case, he would have preferred an answer. He did, however, hear the hesitant steps of little feet as they approached, the sound of them stopping just a little bit further than he would have thought. Carefully he pulled his hands away from his eyes, instead cupping his hands around them to block out as much light as possible while being able to see. Quickly taking in his surroundings he noticed a small tube, one he'd known only to belong in Suns room. He crouched down to look through only to see the face of a child, tired and confused.

"Hello little one" he spoke oh so softly, his voice nearly a whisper. You blinked a few times before taking a step back, afraid of the confusion this interaction brought. Noticing this he was quick to quell this fear. Though calm in the way he did so.

"It's alright. Sun told me you were tired. I'm Moon, I'm here to help you sleep" he explained, not progressing any further in his movements as to not frighten you.

As you stared at the animatronic you were trying to piece together just how it got there and where Sun had gone. You were about to start running when he explained Sun had sent him.

Sun had said he was going to get someone right? Maybe this was who. Maybe there was a door you hadn't noticed over there.

Another yawn broke your thoughts, your continued exhaustion now even worse than it was before. You didn't have the energy to question it anymore, you were just too tired to care. You simply nodded, losing your fear in seconds.

"Could you turn off the lights, little one? They hurt my eyes. Then I can help you sleep" he asked and though you hesitated you simply nodded along, heading over to the light switch before flicking them off, your exhaustion only growing more as the darkness fell over the room.

Even with the lights off though there was still a soft glow from the daycare. It was just barely enough to let you make out your surroundings but dark enough that your eyes had to adjust.

The moment the light was off Moon came into the room, his eyes no longer covered as a soft blue glow came from them. The glow let you know where the animatronic was as he moved around the room, picking up soft blankets and pillows along the way. His movements were a stark contrast to Sun as he moved slower with a more intentional step. He reminded you of a little music box you had seen in your mom's room. He moved predictably and smoothly with a sense of purpose. It immediately quelled every other nerve you had about the bot, his presence seeping with peace.

Once he had collected all of the soft objects he could carry he found the darkest spot in the room and took a seat, covering himself in pillows and blankets as he sat against a wall.

"Come, it's past your bedtime" he beckoned with outstretched hands. His voice held a lulling quality, one that had your feet moving before your mind noticed. Once in reach he carefully picked you up, placing you comfortably in the warmth of the blankets that laid all over him. You laid in his lap, your form so small that it fit perfectly. You made yourself comfortable in the blankets he had covered himself in and only after you did so did he cover you with the remaining blankets.

"Would you like me to hum you a lullaby?" He asked just as your eyes shut, your nodding head letting him know the answer. So softly he hummed, your small form fully relaxing into him as you slowly drifted off into the land of dreams, guided by his soft sound.

This was the first time Moon had ever been allowed to deal with a child. He'd been forced for so long to watch, to be the voice in the back of a mind that was terrified of him. The only times he'd ever been out he'd been stared at with fear. He had only ever hurt anyone in an attempt to stay alive, to not go back to his prison. He only wanted to help.

But he was the thing that scared children, he took the blame as the reason why Sun had to go through pain every time he wanted a chance to exist. He was the broken programming, a glitch forgotten in the mind of another. He was never given a chance by anyone, even the mind that controlled his body...

Until now...

The child that he got to comfort, to lull to sleep. The child that he'd be allowed to care for was now his use for existing. He couldn't have anything else, he was nothing else. This was what he was built for! The reason he was brought into this world! After all this time of being forced into nothingness he was pulled back by the soft yawn of your little form.

He wasn't allowed to have anything...

But he had you

Time passed like fleeting seconds to Moon as he observed your sleeping state. Your soft breathing, your peaceful face. Such a small child, so innocent. He'd only been able to see small moments when you were with Sun, his ability to see impaired by Sun's unwillingness to accept that he was there. But he'd seen enough to know of your pain, to know why Sun had brought you here, why he let him see you. He held you a little bit closer at the thought.

He'd never be able to understand it. To understand why, why someone would do that to you, to a child. It had to be on purpose- it had to be! There was too much damage to your small body for it to be a mistake, an accident. The thought infuriated him, it burned a seething hatred through his metal. How- How dare someone hurt you! You were too small, too defenseless, too young!

Noticing his grip growing tighter than it should he immediately loosened, the resentment falling with it.

It didn't matter now. You were here, you were with him. He'd protect you! A-And Sun would too! You weren't ever going to get hurt again, he'd make sure of it! You wouldn't feel any fear, not with him, not with him, not with-

A sound caught his sensors. The moving of a slide before the crash of a ball pit. He was flown into an immediate panic.

Was that the security guard!? She couldn't see him! She'd get suspicious! She'd deactivate him! He couldn't stay hidden either, no. No, she was probably looking for Sun! Oh no oh no oh no-

Thinking quickly he gently removed you from his lap, making absolutely certain that you stayed asleep while doing so. Even so he moved quickly, scampering off into the second room to grab Suns plate left on the ground before rushing back, knowing that Sun couldn't be in the darkness of this room. When he made it to the incline that lead to the podium he swiftly climbed, not even bothering to use the stairs thanks to his insane agility. He had made it to the top when he rusher to place the plate back on, knowing how best to keep it in place even without the screws he'd left behind. He then jumped onto the podium and into the light to not further harm Sun.

When Sun blinked back to life he first felt dread. Where was he?! What had he done?! Where were you!? What had happened!?

He immediately sprung to his feet, confused and uncertain. Looking around he noticed he was on his podium above the play area, his room behind him. Knowing that was the last place you had been he was about to go back inside when the darkness of the room stopped him.

He would only turn back to Moon if he stepped in there.

It was then that he registered the looseness of his face. It was on, but not by much. After noticing that he knew it was the same night because if it had been morning the morning maintenance check would have solved that.

A sound then caught his ear and, turning around, his eyes were immediately met with something he hadn't expected.

A...kid? At this time of night? What? How? When? Why-

It was through his racing mind that a thought stood out.

Vannesa had been talking about that child

He had thought she meant you! That's why he had gotten so paranoid when she spoke about a missing kid. It started to make more sense to him now though. She was looking for a child that had been sneaking around, being in places that they shouldn't. You had been with him the entire evening! You hadn't been sneaking around! Coming to this conclusion didn't help him though as it led to understanding a final fact.

If he told Vanessa he'd found the kid then she'd come searching the play area. And if she did that, she might notice something isn't right with him, especially because of his loose face plate. He knew he was a terrible liar, he knew she was good at seeing through him. Under enough pressure, he'd break. And breaking meant losing you.

And he couldn't afford to do that.

So, quite literally jumping into action, he threw himself off of the podium and into the ball pit, catching the child's attention after they had just left it. Springing from the pit he effortlessly made it out, spotting the child immediately. The boy went to pull away when he quickly grabbed him, almost a sense of panic in his movements.

"Hel-LO. New friend!- You're sure up late!- Are we having a slumber party?! Where are all you're friends!" He spoke with feigned excitement, a skill he's learned over his time being here. He didn't let go of the boy at first, his mind running with panicked thoughts that all culminated around one goal.

Keep attention away from you

- x -

Tag List

@honeycovered-bandaids @lethalbeautiful @kiinokochii @questionableperson @mary-wolf @just-a-frudgin-simp @nothing-leave-me--alone @eafv2323 @fun-k-board @lemonrolls @ch8rrybl0ssoms @crea8ive-traveler91 @porkcracker @carmelchocola @a-rare-female-blaziken @sssleepless @plaguerat44 @zachariethememerie @nothing-leave-me--alone @gundams90cmbobs @sunnshineflxwer @sundropsideup @bri-bris-things @givemesomebeans @isometimeswritestuff @allidde @wheres-the-effing-pie @imuziawi @theasexualpan @kittenlover614 @arialikestea @ayoitshayden

Couldn't tag because of some reason or another -> @yumeko58garcia @miraculousdisappointment

1K notes View Post

flamme-shigaraki-spithoe

10 months ago

Thanks!you anwser so fast too like damn!✨✋

Hiii i just discover your account it's so cool ! What about shigaraki with a darling that litteraly worship him ? 🧐

Have a nice day/night✨🛐

TOMURA/READER WHO WORSHIPS HIM HC!

A/N: gulps nervously in my tomura collection worth $1k+.. what..worship this guy? hah, never heard of it

(cough sidenote: utahime/urame whatever her name is and sukuna or xielian and huacheng...)

WARNINGS: nsfw under the cut! ooc tomura?, subby-ish tomura

oh my god this boy is sweating, confused, scared, angry.

he's sweating because he's shocked and nervous! how would he even react to someone holding him in their arms and whispering praises into his ear?

he's confused, where did this come from? why does he deserve this? are you serious or are you being sarcastic?

he's scared because there's an odd feeling in his chest that hurts yet feels so good, it outweighs the feeling of hatred that burns so deep within him.

he's angry because he thinks your a spy or is playing a cruel joke on him, that one day this will all just stop or your just using him to your own gain.

you have to try and try for weeks on end to show that your not going anywhere and that you genuinely worship him for who he is.

once he settles in and realizes your treating him like some sort of god, or how people idolize and admire stain/all might with genuine love in your heart he short circuits for awhile.

he lays in your arms quietly as he feels you kiss around his body and tell him that he did such a good job, how handsome he is, how much you love him, how much you care and how much all you wanna do to him is..take care of him.

he'll try and push you off and say something along the lines of 'you're being annoying/stupid, cut it out' or he'll say something cocky, 'you really see me as a god or something, huh? that sounds about right for a king like me.'

once it genuinely sinks into all of him that your being real and not playing with him, it all goes to his head and his dick he becomes more cocky but whenever a plan fails he falls so much harder than he would've if you weren't around.

he loves your kisses and will sulk if you don't give him atleast 5 per 10 minutes like you usually do.

cup his face and shower him with kisses, praise, tell him how handsome he is as your cuteness aggression kicks in and you squeeze his cheeks like they're your life line.

head? blank. mind? off.

even though he becomes more cocky/egotistical, he still short circuits and shuts down for a moment because..what?

he doesn't know what he did to deserve you (besides being a gross ugly gamer boy who should go eat a cup noodle) but he definitely thinks it's because all his hardwork and dedication to master got you by his side.

please be patient with him, if he ever sees you upset with him he might actually go insane.

NSFW under the cut!

he loves getting a handjob from you while he suckles on your chest and you whisper sweet things,

he cums so fast when you hug him from behind, one hand stroking his cock and the other playing with his nipples and stroking his chest while you whisper praise into his ear and leave hickeys on his scarred neck or shoulders.

when you praise him, sometimes it just immediately gets him erect, even if you didn't say anything inherently sexual.

he will watch with eyes blown wide or barely open (depends on how long you've been going) as you suck his cock and treat him with utmost care.

yes he is a pillow prince.

he loves it when you treat him like a valuable jewel that could shatter at the slightest touch, your gentle squeezes, your slow and tender kisses, your praise, it all swirls in his head and makes him cum, even if it's just foreplay.

he loves the aftercare, when he's laying down on his stomach and a pillow on his chest as you carefully use wipes to clean his cock, makes him hard all over again.

the aftercare where you shower with him? now he's not sure, he'll say he can bathe himself yet the soft moans he lets out whenever you lather soap on his body or dig your fingers into his hair says he would rather have you bathe him.

cuddles, cuddles please. he needs that.

atleast an hour or 30 minutes of you cuddling him, petting him and telling him how good he did for you, he will sulk if he doesn't get this.

when he's the one mostly in control he's so rough and mean, well..as rough as a lanky twink can get.

he loves watching you cry for him or having you tell him how good you feel, goes straight to his cock.

tell him to go harder, faster, deeper or tell him you're about to cum quick, he loves it, he loves it all.

when your giving him oral, he will just straight up hump/facefuck you, he loves the adoring look in your eyes, it makes him so hard.

—Ake 2024

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

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.

57 notes View Post

flamme-shigaraki-spithoe

1 year ago

I have a dream

Just imagine:

Tomura is now finaly the king of his new shaped world. Don't ask me how, don't mention all for one. Lets just say he take care of them. He his now the one and only supreme commender and he have everything. Everything ? Well no actually. He doesn't have a darling. A good little pet to get his dick wet and oh god we know how desperate he is. That's when one day he found a man who have the hability to make a women from another universe come into that one and then sommon her as his pet. Tomura immediatly take his quirk. He through that at first he would have to force things a little of course who would want to fuck him and live their whole life by his side if not some afraid sucker ? Well he was very surprise when us, one of his bigest fangirl apear literaly dying of happiness at the new. He was oh so please to have such a beautiful darling as one of his fan and as his fuck toy too… If he wasn't him he would find it scary how such a cute little "innocent" things like us can have those perverted throught about him and how much we know how to please our god because hod dammit that is what he truly his isn't he ? Of course Shigaraki Tomura would be more than please to realise all of our fantises about him that we read in fanfiction and stuff, after all many of them are his too. Tomura Shigaraki would be turn on to finaly have soemone desperate for his touvh insted of being scared. The way his pet will be struggleing to breath while he choke her would almost be enought for him to come in his pants. Imagine being that guys pet and beinh blessed everyday by mimking hid cock until passing out because, we are human from our world, it take practice to accomodate yo his monsturus size. Then we would wake up, him sleeping peacefully by our side.

Heaven right ?😭✨

yandere!shigaraki x reader (university au)

set in the same au as this post ! just ended finals so it gave me an idea to write something. in this AU shigaraki never became a villain and is just attending uni like you and touya (he met AFO tho)

word count: 2082 tw: yandere, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, stalking, toxic behavior, university au, manipulative behavior

✤you sighed for the umpteenth time that day. you had a final to pass and you didn't study it very well. you were right in front of the auditorium where you were supposed to pass your final, trying to memorize as much of your lesson sheet as you could, only managing to stress even more.

✤you waited a few minutes after the door opened, letting people go in before finally entering the auditorium. it was the biggest room of your university and it was quite impressive, not really helping with your stress. you roamed around the seats desperately trying to find yours.

✤after some time, you finally found it. you tried asking the blue haired guy who was sitting at the edge of your row to stand up so that you could sit but it was no use, he wasn't listening to you, he was more interested by the music in his earphones.

✤after hesitating for a while you decided to touch his shoulder, hoping that this way he would finally notice you. he did but when he looked at you he gave you a death stare, his red eyes piercing through you. you flinched but decided to talk.

"hum... e-excuse me, this is my seat."

✤you were cursing yourself inside for stuttering before he finally decided to get up and let you pass not before sighing loudly and muttering something you couldn't quite hear. you thanked him in a whisper before passing by him and realizing your seat was right next to him. just your luck.

✤you sat down, trying to collect yourself and to concentrate on your exam. you were taking out your pens while trying to remember your class as much as you can, only to stop after a short while because you saw that you were getting nowhere.

✤trying to destress a bit you attempted giving a look to your neighbor, trying to see what he was doing. he was quite handsome, not your mainstream handsome sure but definitely handsome. you bet girls were all over him, though he seemed to have quite the bad personality.

✤when your eyes met, you turned away, blushing. he definitely caught you staring at him. before you could even feel even more embarrassed the supervisors told you to put your bags and phones away before finally handing the exam sheets.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

✤your exam was finally over, you hoped your grader would take pity on you with the tears stain on your paper but you doubted it. the guy who was sitting next to you had already left by the time you were done so you could leave the row without any problem. before you left you saw that he forgot his earphones, you decided to take them. you'd give them back to him when you saw him.

✤you exited the auditorium, meeting some acquaintances, talking to them about exams. without any surprises, they all done better than you. while you were talking, you could almost swear you felt ruby eyes watching you intensely.

✤it was only a few days later, when classes started again, that you saw the blue haired guy. he was playing a game on his phone, sitting on a bench in the courtyard of the university. besides him was sitting touya, one of the most popular guy in the university and a blonde girl who was often hanging around them but that you didn't know the name of.

✤although you weren't sure if you should interrupt them you decided it was a good opportunity to give him back his earphones, maybe you'd even get to talk to touya ! but when you started heading over to the bench, touya and the girl left. looks like you wouldn't talk to touya today either, you were hesitating whether you should leave and try to give him back his earphones later when touya was here.

✤too bad for you, he noticed you and he even frowned when he saw you. you didn't want to be labelled as weird for staring at him again so you decided to give him back his earphones. you approached his bench, an awkward smile on your lips.

"hey... we were sitting together at the exam last week."

✤he raised one of his brows, unimpressed, waiting for you to keep going.

"you forgot your earphones, I came to give them back."

✤you searched for them in your bag before giving them to him, wrapped in a tissue so that they wouldn't get dirty. his look softened a bit when he saw them. he lifted his gaze up to you, you shuddered when his red eyes met yours, he really had quite the effect on you. you stared at each other for a while before he decided to speak.

"thanks."

"well, that's all I had to say, have a nice day."

✤you don't know what you were expecting but it wasn't something as quick as that. you started to walk away before you felt him grab your wrist.

"when is your next class ?"

"hum... in an hour I think.."

"then sit with me for a bit."

✤you couldn't make any excuses to refuse, maybe you just didn't want to refuse so you just sat next to him. there was a bit of silence before he decided to break it.

"i heard you crying when we were taking the exam."

✤you started blushing hard, embarrassed. you thought you were subtle about it but looks like he heard you. you shrank on yourself as he kept talking.

"yeah. the exam didn't really go well for me, I started studying too late..."

"well... in return for finding my earphones maybe I could help you with classes you struggle with. I think I can say im not a bad student."

✤your eyes started shining, before you got closer to him, grabbing his hand, which you noticed was gloved.

"you'd do that ? that would save my life ! but I don't want to bother you..."

"if im offering it means it doesn't bother me."

✤he looked aside, blushing a bit not anything too noticeable but he still blushed. he took his phone out before asking you for your number. you gave him and stayed with for a bit before finally heading to classes.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

✤you learned a bit about the blue haired guy. his name was shigaraki tomura, he was your upper classmate although he studies in the same major as you. he is always at the top of his classes without studying much. you also heard some rumors about him, one about his adoptive father who had ties with the university director but also the villain world.

✤however, you didn't pay much attention to it. shigaraki was a nice guy, although his personality was a bit special. he easily got irritated with the slightest inconvenience and sometimes he was a bit of an asshole to almost everyone but not to you at least.

✤you often met up at the library to study, he would teach you a lot of things. you were very thankful to him for doing that. nothing was forcing him to but he was helping. he really was a nice guy.

✤beside your study sessions with shigaraki you started to feel very uncomfortable when you were alone. you felt like someone was watching you, following you and examining your every moves. the discomfort grew even more when you heard the click of a camera, like someone had taken a picture of you when you weren't aware of it.

✤you began to always look back when you were walking alone, panicking whenever you could hear the footsteps of anyone behind you. you were pretty sure you had a stalker, you tried telling your best friends but they told you it was only an impression, that you were overreacting.

✤you didn't dare tell anyone else, afraid they would think you were crazy. you just kept quiet, your paranoia growing even more as each day passed.

✤your fear reached it's peak one day at the university. you were roaming through your locker, searching for a book you forgot before entering the library to study with shigaraki. however when you opened your locker, the book wasn't the only thing you found.

✤there was a letter on your book, by the way it was positioned it was clear that it wasn't just slipped inside your locker, someone must have opened it. you shivered at the thought, taking the letter and opening it.

✤inside it were pictures of you, not normal pictures but candid shots, photos you have never seen before and that you didn't know existed. now you were sure of it, someone was stalking you. but who would ? and why ?

✤you roamed through the pictures, some were taken at the university or in the streets but one of them really scared you. it was a picture of you sleeping, in your room, in your house.

✤you let out a shaky breath, terrified. how did they know where you lived..? you covered your mouth in shock, you checked the back of the picture and saw a few words written on it.

<<you'll soon be mine>>

"oh my god..."

✤you took a step back and bumped into someone. when you turned around you saw shigaraki standing behind you.

"you're taking a while for one book."

✤when he said that, you bursted into tears and hugged him closely. you stayed like this for a while as he soothed you. when you were calmer you explained everything to him: from when you started to feel like someone was following you to what happened just now.

✤just the fact that he believed you made you feel instantly better. he advised you to report the person to the police and he told you he would walk you home everyday. he did.

✤he would come get you before classes and walk you home after them. you would even study at your place sometimes because in public you were scared the stalker could take more pictures of you. although, thanks to shigaraki, you felt like he wasn't stalking you anymore. maybe you being with a guy scared him and drove him away. you didn't even want to know to be honest.

✤you got closer and closer with shigaraki, everything felt natural with him. and it was only a matter of time before you eventually started dating.

✤it all started with "unintended" touches, you would graze your hand against shigaraki's while looking for your pen. trying to grab his gaze whenever you looked at him. he was quite the oblivious guy because he seemed to never grab any of your hints.

✤it was only when you kissed him that he got the hint. you jumped on him after being tired of him ignoring any of your move : at that time he definitely understood.

✤you started dating at that time and shigaraki would never let go of you, always clinging onto you no matter what he was doing. you study together ? he would pull you on his lap, you were cooking ? he would hug you from behind, even when you slept he would always big spoon you.

✤at university everyone knew you were together, shigaraki was quite the jealous boyfriend. never letting any of your friend talk to you for long, you didn't mind after all they didn't believe you when you were talking about your stalker.

✤you also got to know better touya and the blonde girl whose name was toga, not that you talked to them much. shigaraki wouldn't allow it after all. you didn't really mind either.

✤you passed your year with outstanding grades and it was all thanks to shigaraki. he made your life so much better.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

✤you were sleeping on your notebooks as shigaraki watched you. he loved watching you, he always did. he took his phone out and took a picture of you. another one for his collection.

✤he was the one stalking you, he had been from the day you met at the exam. he pulled all sort of strings to make sure you two got close and the fact that your friend didn't believe someone was stalking you was a blessing for him.

✤he isolated you from everyone and you didn't even see he was the bad guy in the story. he had you all for himself without any effort. he pulled a strand of your hair behind your ear while smiling softly.

✤he was right when he put the letter in your locker, you were all his now.

537 notes View Post

End of content

No more pages to load