Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 13) - A Shigaraki X F!Reader Fic
Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 13) - 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 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
There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it, and you’ve never felt the oppressiveness and terror that everyone else seems to experience when they come near it. Not until the first streetlight goes out at the top of the street, a split second too late to conceal the shadow that slinks past beneath it.
“Shit,” Spinner hisses over the comms network. Atsuhiro stole the pieces of it, enough for every adult human in the neighborhood, on the search team’s way back. “What was that?”
“Get back from the window,” Magne hisses. They’re inside their house. All according to plan. “Stay down. This isn’t about us.”
“It’s about all of us,” Shinsou argues. He’s got a headset. Hizashi lost headset privileges on the grounds that he’s a ghost, and he’s in the house anyway. “If we just – there’s another one!”
Another streetlight goes out, on the other side of the street, just a second too slow behind the shadow that passes under it. You get a look at the shadow’s face, or where it’s face should be, before the darkness cloaks it. “That’s not Garaki.”
“No,” Aizawa agrees. “He brought reinforcements.”
“What are those things?” Jin’s mother asks, just as the light in front of Atsuhiro’s house goes out. “Tomura, do you know?”
Tomura doesn’t have a headset. Tomura’s dematerialized, and keeping his head down as part of the strategy. But your house has two former ghosts in it, and since Hizashi’s getting the most malevolent silent treatment ever, Eri speaks up, and Aizawa repeats what she whispers in his ear. “They’re like Shirakumo. But they like it.”
Keigo’s voice crackles over the headsets. “What does that mean?”
“The ghosts signed up for it.” Tomura’s voice is barely a whisper in your ear. “They let a conjurer make them his puppets. They’re too weak to do what they want otherwise.”
You convey Tomura’s message to the others, then ask a question of your own. “What do they want?”
“Guys, there’s another one. We’re up to six.” Spinner says what you’re thinking a moment later. “That’s one for every house in the neighborhood.”
Mr. Yagi was right – if one former ghost in the neighborhood is discovered, you’re all compromised, and you’re all fucked. A moment later, a voice rings out down the street. It’s not a voice you recognize. “Hizashi,” it calls out, and Hizashi freezes in place. “Touya. I know you’re here. Come out, and we can avoid any – unpleasantness.”
Everyone in your house glares at Hizashi, ordering him to keep quiet, but Keigo doesn’t have anywhere near that kind of backup. “My name’s not fucking Touya,” Dabi says. “Get out of my neighborhood.”
Hizashi opens his mouth to chime in and Aizawa slaps his hand down over it. “Suit yourself,” Garaki says. “Nomu –”
There’s a sudden crash, and you hear Jin’s mom scream into the headset – the thing in front of her house just took down her fence. But it’s only a warning shot. A second later there’s another, louder crash. “They’re going after your house, Aizawa,” Atsuhiro reports. “When they find out you aren’t there –”
They’ll come here, to your house and Keigo’s. “It’s time,” Aizawa says. “Nemuri, go.”
You’ve never see an unbound ghost flex its powers in public before, and now you know why – powered up with dozens of plants’ worth of life-force, Nemuri is blindingly fast. She knocks the ghost-thing away from Aizawa’s house so hard that it dents one of the doused streetlights, then bolts towards Garaki. Garaki’s ready for her. You don’t know how you know that, but he must be, or he wouldn’t be standing still.
“Wait for it,” Hizashi hisses. “Tomura, now.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Tomura snaps, and his influence crashes back down over the neighborhood with the force of a breaking tsunami.
Garaki staggers, gasping for air, but the effect on the monsters he brought with him is even stronger. The one attacking Jin and Himiko’s house stops immediately and lunges at the one Nemuri just knocked away from Aizawa’s front steps. You hear a harsh, heavy whoosh, followed by a shriek like metal on metal. A rush of wind blasts up the street, visible even in the dark, and you can see something flickering within it, fighting to get back where it came from. “That’s essence,” Hizashi mumbles. “Nice work.”
Tomura doesn’t answer. If you had to guess, you’d say he’s focused on keeping the pressure on the street. The two monsters are tearing each other to shreds, which means that Nemuri’s less outnumbered than she was before, and you’re pretty sure that the monsters parked in front of your house and Keigo’s are there to keep you from leaving. That still leaves two loose monsters, though. Both of them turn and run towards whatever’s happening between Garaki and Nemuri. You can barely see it. There’s no light on the street, anywhere, but there’s one place where the darkness is completely opaque. You don’t know what’s happening in there. You don’t think you want to.
The first sign that something’s going wrong is the cold that begins to spread, worse than anything Tomura’s ever generated, radiating out from the opaque patch of darkness and creeping steadily up the street. Your house and Keigo’s are farthest from the trouble, but ice begins to spiral over your windows, and when Spinner speaks up over the comms, his teeth are chattering. “What’s happening? Magne won’t say –”
You’re pretty sure Magne can’t say. Jin breaks into the comms, reporting that Himiko’s down for the count, and in your own house, Aizawa’s trying with increasing desperation to rouse Eri. Hizashi’s on his feet, still. He speaks through gritted teeth. “Nem’s in trouble,” he says. “I’m going out there.”
“Dad, no!” Shinsou grabs for him, but Hizashi moves fast. “Dad –”
Aizawa’s too focused on Eri to notice before it’s too late. He reaches out futilely to Hizashi. “Zashi, don’t –”
Your front door slams shut behind him. “You’re in the way,” Hizashi says to the thing in front of your house. “Move.”
“Idiot,” Tomura snarls, from everywhere and nowhere. A moment later, Hizashi seizes the monster and drags it into your yard.
Having passed the responsibility for the situation over to Tomura, Hizashi bolts into the street, and Tomura materializes in the front yard just as the monster starts to pick itself up off the ground. Tomura knocks it down again, then straddles it, pinning it in place. “What are you?” he demands. The creature snarls. “You can still feel pain. I’ll hurt you. What are you?”
The monster snarls again. You don’t see what Tomura does, but you hear it let out an agonized howl in response. “Nomu. We are – Nomu.”
It tries to fight free of Tomura’s grip. Tomura slams it against the ground. He looks tiny compared to the monster – the Nomu? – but it’s clear that he’s got the upper hand. “Tell me. How many does he have?” You still can’t see what Tomura’s doing to the Nomu, but it lets out an earsplitting screech. “Now!”
Whatever answer the Nomu gives, it’s not what Tomura wants to hear. He blasts the Nomu apart, then dematerializes, reappearing again inside the house. He’s barley breathing hard. “He’s got too many ghosts. They can’t win.”
“Then do something,” Shinsou demands of Tomura. “My dad –”
Tomura can’t do anything more than he’s already doing, and Shinsou knows it. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to find Aizawa heading for the door. You couldn’t stop Hizashi, but you can sure as hell stop him. You block his way. “Where are you going?”
“This is a fight between ghosts. I’ll be beneath their notice.” Aizawa puts his hand on your shoulder and shifts you firmly aside. “If they lose, we all do.”
He’s out the door before you can stop him, and across the street, you see Keigo sneaking out as well. If you had to guess, you’d say Spinner and Jin are heading out, too. Now it’s only you, Shinsou, Eri, and Tomura inside your house, and you can feel Tomura seething, the air crackling with his power. He wants to fight. You can tell he does. You just don’t understand why. He doesn’t care about the neighborhood or the people in it. Is he really that bloodthirsty? Or maybe it’s not that he’s bloodthirsty. Maybe he just cares more about this, about everything, than you’ve let yourself realize.
“You idiot,” he snaps suddenly, and you and Shinsou both jump. “Stay inside!”
He’s not talking to you. You race to the front window just in time to see Dabi emerging from the house. He’s never looked more frightening than he does right now, half-embodied, half made up of the same darkness that’s now swallowed up half the neighborhood. He strolls up to the Nomu guarding Keigo’s house like he doesn’t have a care in the world. The Nomu doesn’t move. “Are they talking?” Shinsou asks. “What are they saying?”
Before Tomura has a chance to answer, Dabi speaks out loud, his voice bright and full of fury. “You really are stupid, conjurer. Of all the ghosts you could have brought to kill me, you picked my brother.”
You didn’t realize ghosts could have brothers. Then you remember what Keigo said about his old house having multiple ghosts in it. “Nice to see you, Natsu,” Dabi says to the Nomu. “Go get my human.”
The Nomu – Natsu – turns and dives into the darkness, followed by Dabi at a more leisurely pace. You think through the battlefield as it stands now. Garaki is down to two Nomus on his side, and Nemuri’s getting a helping hand from Hizashi, Spinner, Jin, Aizawa, Dabi, Natsu, and Keigo. The fight has to be in the neighborhood’s favor now, doesn’t it? Garaki’s outnumbered, and no matter how much ghostly power he has, he’s still human. He can be killed like any human. It’s going to be –
Eri lurches upright, her red eyes wide and terrified. “Papa!” she screams. “No –”
Everything outside the windows goes completely black. If you couldn’t see into it before, you definitely can’t see out of it now. But you can see what’s inside of it, at least until the frost starts to spiral across the glass – Garaki advancing down the street, flanked by two Nomus. Nemuri’s nowhere to be found. Spinner’s injured, somehow. Jin is dragging him backwards, away from the fight. Aizawa is carrying Hizashi, who’s fully unconscious. The only people in any shape to do anything are Keigo, Dabi, and the Nomu. The fight’s narrowed down to three on three – a conjurer and two monsters versus one monster, one scar wraith, and one human. Suddenly you understand why Eri’s in tears, why Tomura’s materialized next to you with that look on his face. So much for the fight being even. It’s not anywhere close to even. They’re going to lose.
Garaki clucks his tongue, shakes his head. “Touya, you disappoint me.”
“It’s too bad. I was just living for your approval.” Dabi pushes Keigo casually behind him. “I’d highly recommend pissing off. Stick around and I might get angry. You’re not going to like it when I’m angry.”
“In your position, I’d be angry, too,” Garaki responds. “You’ve been a scar wraith for four years. Don’t you want your powers back? Isn’t this mortal form exhausting to inhabit? Wouldn’t you rather be free?”
You thought Dabi was trying to stall. Now you’re not so sure. “You could do that?” Dabi asks.
“Of course! If you doubt my abilities, just look at my Nomus.” Garaki gestures proudly. He tortured six people to create them, and he’s proud of them. “There’s no reason why the same process can’t run in reverse. I would have offered it to Hizashi, too – but it appears he’s a lost cause.”
“What did he do to him?” Shinsou asks in a cracked whisper. “He’s not dead. He can’t be dead.”
“The conjurer went after Aizawa and he took the hit instead. He’s coming around.” Tomura’s hands are clenched into fists at his sides, so hard his knuckles are white. “Idiot. They’re all idiots!”
Garaki is still talking. “I expected much better of Hizashi, truthfully. He was so eager to enter this world and play his part, and he threw it all away for a human. But you’re wiser, Touya. Step aside and I’ll help you reverse your mistake.”
He wouldn’t. There’s no way Dabi wants to be a ghost again that badly, is there? There’s no way he’d sacrifice Keigo. Is there? Dabi glances away from Garaki, over at Natsu. “What do you think, little brother? Should I take him up on it?”
The Nomu doesn’t answer. In Aizawa’s arms, you think you see Hizashi stir. “Nah,” Dabi says finally. “You can go to hell. Natsu, now!”
The Nomu moves at terrifying speed. It seizes Keigo and hurls him through the air, over the fence and into your front yard. Tomura swears under his breath and you watch as Keigo’s fall slows slightly, enough that he’s got time to turn and land heavily on his feet. But he’s not the only one in flight. Hizashi’s struggled to his feet, and he and Nemuri launch Aizawa together. Their throw isn’t as good. Aizawa crashes through the fence and sprawls out flat in the yard. Jin drags Spinner through the hole and both of them collapse.
They need help. You grab your first aid kit out of the hall closet and try to open your front door, only to find that it’s sealed shut. It doesn’t move even when you yank on it with your full weight. You turn to glare at Tomura, who glares back with his arms crossed. “It’s not safe.”
“I won’t leave the yard,” you say. “That’s your territory, isn’t it? Are you telling me I’m not safe there?”
Tomura’s expression darkens even further, but before he can respond, an ice-cold hand settles on your shoulder. “I’ll go with her,” Shirakumo says in that odd doubled voice. You forgot he was here. He hasn’t moved off the couch all day. “I can help.”
You don’t know how much help Shirakumo will be – the hand on your shoulder is shaking badly – but the front door unseals itself, and you leave without a backward glance. Once you’re in the yard, though, you’re temporarily paralyzed. Aizawa’s not moving, but Spinner’s the most visibly injured, and Keigo’s awake but stunned, like his landing might have been harder than you thought. You’d rather help Spinner or Keigo, but Aizawa’s the only one who’s unresponsive. He helped you when you first found out about Tomura. He’s done nothing to you other than be abrupt bordering on rude, and he’s like that with everyone except his children. Are you really going to let him lie there just because you and his husband despise each other?
Shirakumo heads for Aizawa, making the decision for you, and you hurry towards Spinner instead. Spinner’s bleeding from two stab wounds, one in his left shoulder and one in his right thigh, just above his knee. There’s a lot of blood. You pry open the first aid kit for bandages and gauze and press Jin into service bandaging Spinner’s leg, working on his shoulder yourself and doing your level best to ignore whatever’s happening outside the fence. Spinner groans in pain. “I have to get back out there,” he says. “They can’t do this.”
“We have to!” Jin agrees, determined. Then his face falls. “We can’t help. That’s why they made us leave.”
“They’re outnumbered. Nemuri burned up too much power and the cold killed a lot of the plants before she could.” Keigo waits until you’re finished bandaging Spinner’s injuries, then helps you and Jin pick him up. “Me and Aizawa were useless out there. All we did was distract them.”
He means Dabi and Hizashi, but there’s something turning over in your head. You’re not sure what it is just yet. You see Shirakumo carrying Aizawa up to the porch out of the corner of your eye. Next to you, Jin is shaking Spinner’s non-stabbed shoulder, panicked. “What about Magne and Atsuhiro? Why aren’t they out there?”
“Not their fight. I stayed in – long as possible.” Spinner’s face is beaded with sweat. “So maybe she’d come out. But –”
You don’t think the other ghosts are cowards. You know they’re tough, you know they care. But neither of them are the ones the conjurer is after, and their humans might as well be an afterthought. You don’t blame either of them for staying out of a fight they can’t win. When it comes down to it, it’s not your fight, either.
It’s not your fight. It’s also not your neighborhood, according to Hizashi – but you’re done with Hizashi’s bullshit. You’ve got your bracelets on, which means you’ll be hard to spot, and none of the ghosts still fighting in the street care enough about you to distract them from the fight. You won’t distract the neighborhood ghosts. But you can damn well distract the Nomus. Or the conjurer.
You’re alone in the yard now, except for Shirakumo. Shirakumo looks like he’s got an idea, too, and all you can do is hope that the human half of him is enough to hide his intentions from Tomura. The two of you make eye contact. Shirakumo raises one hand from his side and shows you a broken fencepost. If you bend down slowly to grab one of your own, Tomura’s going to figure it out, and he’ll stop you. You have to move fast. You crouch, seize a fencepost, and lurch across the property line.
A howl rises up from the house behind you, enough to set your teeth on edge and make every hair on your arms stand on end. Tomura’s furious, but he’s going to be even madder if you get hurt because you were standing there, doing nothing, instead of doing what you came here to do. You glance to your left and realize that Shirakumo’s already run off to help Hizashi and Nemuri deal with one of the two remaining Nomus. That leaves you and your fencepost to join the remaining fight. You’re the only help Dabi and Natsu are going to get.
Your fencepost has a broken end, jagged and dangerous, but you’ve got no faith in your ability to stab someone with it. You’ll be better off using it as a club. The question is who to hit. You creep along the sidewalk towards where Dabi and Natsu are facing Garaki and the remaining Nomu. While the fight between Natsu and the last Nomu looks pretty even, it’s clear to you that Dabi’s losing his. Tomura said Garaki has too many ghosts. Dabi’s only one, and only half a ghost in the bargain. You have the thought that his human side is protecting him from being blasted apart, but it can’t last forever. You can see the ghostly sections of his body, rippling, bulging, as Garaki pours more and more energy into him. Neither of them are paying any attention to you.
Good. You work your way behind Garaki, take a firmer grip on the fencepost, and swing.
It’s not your best swing. Some part of you is still wrestling against the thought of bashing another human being over the head with a piece of wood, and it’s really dark. But even your not-the-best swing collides with the side of Garaki’s head, producing a dull thud. He lets out a grunt of pain and turns Dabi loose, wheeling around to face you.
You swing again, but it’s even harder to hit somebody when you’re looking them in the eye. Your blow strikes his arm, and he staggers but doesn’t fall. Garaki is bald, your height or maybe shorter. He has a mustache, and his green-tinted glasses are cracked and lopsided. Blood is tricking down the side of his head from your first swing. He steps forward. You step back.
“Not so brave now, are we?” Garaki laughs, but he’s grimacing. You swing at him again, but he dodges it. His hand closes on your shoulder. “Have some of this.”
You know what’s coming, courtesy of Hizashi’s lessons this afternoon, and unlike Tomura, Garaki’s got no plans to be gentle with you. You lock your jaw against the screams that are dying to get out and squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t want to see the world between. You need to see what’s in Garaki’s head. You need to know, so you can warn –
You can’t see. Maybe you can. You can’t understand it – a void full of open, howling mouths, pain worse than anything you’ve ever experienced, hatred stronger than you can even fathom. It’s nothing like what you saw in Tomura’s mind. It’s hell. You keep your jaw locked as long as possible, but eventually you can’t hold it in a second longer. You open your mouth and scream until your throat bleeds.
Or maybe you don’t. A hand closes around your wrist and jerks you away, out of Garaki’s grip. The hand is cold and warm at the same time. When you open your eyes, you find yourself looking up at Shirakumo.
He’s not the only one who’s here. Nemuri’s here, and Hizashi, Hizashi steps into the space where you were standing and promptly decks Garaki, hitting him about twice as hard as your strongest swing of the fencepost. “That’s for making my friends cry,” he hisses, and hits Garaki again. “Hit it, Toasty!”
Every plant on the far side of the street bursts into flames at once, and Dabi plants both hands on Garaki’s back and shoves him hard. With the rest of the plants’ life-force on board, Dabi’s charged up with enough power to send Garaki flying, and there’s only one possible place he could be headed. You turn slowly, your entire body numb and frozen, just in time to see Garaki land in a heap in the middle of your front yard. Tomura’s on him a split second later.
You think it’ll be over quickly. If Tomura is as powerful as everyone says he is, it should be. But you think of how many ghosts you saw in Garaki’s head, of the fact that Tomura’s never faced a conjurer before, and fear like you’ve never felt in your entire life surges through you. You can’t help him. All you can do is watch.
The sphere of darkness Garaki summoned before starts to descend, only for Tomura to blast it apart seconds later. Garaki reaches out for Tomura’s shoulder, but Tomura dematerializes just enough that Garaki’s hand sinks straight through him. He raises one hand, reaching for Garaki, and Garaki’s hand rises to block him. There’s a clear six inches of space between their palms, but it’s clear that they’re both pushing as hard as they can.
Cold wind whips out from the space where the two of them stand, rattling your windows loudly enough that you can hear it from the street. Your teeth are chattering almost as loudly. Garaki’s face shows intense concentration, and so does Tomura’s. His free hand is scratching frantically at his neck, and he’s bitten into his lip so hard it’s bleeding. There’s a sudden lurch, and Tomura takes a step back. Then another step back. “Fuck,” Dabi mumbles, then calls out: “Hey, asshole! Get your shit together!”
Tomura plants his feet, stopping Garaki’s advance, but you’re not stupid enough to think he’s got the upper hand. In fact, he’s got the opposite. His right hand, the one pressing back against Garaki’s, is beginning to bend backwards, past the point where a living hand would break, where living fingers would snap like twigs. His physical form, still mostly embodied, is beginning to bulge and waver, just like Dabi’s did. If Garaki’s able to do this, his power level and Tomura’s must be nearly equal. Aizawa’s words flash through your head again: Conjurers are human. Humans don’t want to die.
You want to call out to Tomura, beg him to fight harder, but your teeth are chattering too hard to speak. Someone else does it for you. Hizashi grabs your arm, pulls you away from Shirakumo, and drags you towards the fence. “Hey, guess what?” he shouts at Tomura, his voice loud enough to be heard above the wind. “I lied about what ghostly power does to humans. It does hurt them. It hurts them a lot.”
Tomura’s eyes dart sideways towards you. Then he turns his head to stare, and takes another step back, giving up ground to Garaki. “Yeah, you heard me,” Hizashi continues, even though he’s breaking Tomura’s concentration. “You hurt your human, and she let you do it. But guess what? The guy who’s beating you hurt her a whole lot worse.”
Tomura snarls. “Oh, you want to kill me over that? I’ll believe that when I see it,” Hizashi spits, and suddenly you understand what he’s trying to do. “How are you supposed to kill me when you can’t even kill him?”
Tomura looks away from Hizashi, away from you. Back to Garaki, who was just starting to look confident. “You won’t win. I have the power of a thousand ghosts behind me! There’s nothing you can do that will – what are you doing? Don’t –”
Tomura’s free hand materializes and clamps down over Garaki’s face. The hand pushing back against Garaki’s breaks through the space between them and seizes it in a crushing grip. Garaki howls, but not so loudly that you can’t hear Tomura’s voice. “A thousand ghosts?” he says, gleeful and savage. “There’s one less now.”
The wind roars up from behind you this time, still ice-cold, as Tomura draws his power inwards, forcing more and more of it into Garaki. He bends Garaki’s hand backwards until the conjurer’s wrist breaks, keeps pushing until his forearm snaps in two. “Where are your ghosts now?” he taunts. The smile on his face is terrifying to look at, but you can’t look away. “Without them, you’re just a human.”
“Wait,” Garaki chokes out. “Don’t –”
“You’re just a human,” Tomura repeats. “Humans die.”
You’ve watched Tomura turn things to dust before, but never a person. Garaki crumbles, the same as the wasps and the other insects and the plants. You hear a last gasp of air leave his lungs, choked with dust towards the end, and see his eyes go blank a second before they turn dull and dusty and pop from his skull. It’s over in less than two seconds. Garaki’s clothes crumple to the ground, empty. And after that it’s quiet.
Next to you, Hizashi breathes a sigh of relief. “That was close.”
“That wasn’t close at all,” Nemuri corrects. She’s only partially materialized. “It was over the instant he stopped messing around. What were you doing, anyway? You – watch it, Zashi –”
Hizashi leaps away from the fence with a yelp. Tomura’s right there, struggling to reach past the property line, his eyes fixed on you. “Give me my human.”
“You sure about that?” Hizashi asks. He gives you a little shake and keeps talking to Tomura. “You’re looking a little rough, my friend. Why not dematerialize and get some of that blood off your –”
“Now!”
Tomura’s voice isn’t particularly loud, but it still shakes the ground, and you feel Hizashi’s grip on your shoulder tighten with shock. He laughs it off, but you aren’t fooled. “One human, coming right up!” he announces. He picks you up and tosses you over the wreckage of the fence.
You’re not in any way prepared to catch yourself, but Tomura doesn’t let you hit the ground. Wouldn’t let you hit the ground. Maybe. He’s mad at you the instant he gets ahold of you, snapping at you even as his arms lock tightly around your waist. “You idiot! You’re just a human. That guy could have killed you! There are bugs under the house that are smarter than you are! Why would you even – what? What are you doing?”
You’re twisting in his grip, trying to get your arms free, and when you manage it, you wrap them around him, holding on as tightly as you can even though being this close to him isn’t helping your rapidly advancing case of hypothermia. “Are you okay?” you ask senselessly. “Your hand – your neck – are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. Don’t be stupid.” Tomura shakes your shoulder with the hand you were asking about, the one Garaki bent completely back at the wrist. “My neck is fine. The scratches will go away once I dematerialize. Why are you acting so weird?”
You pull your hand away from his neck with an effort. It comes back smeared with blood, and you curl it into a shaky fist. “I was worried.”
“I said not to be stupid,” Tomura says. He shakes your shoulder again. “I had it right from the beginning.”
He didn’t. You know what you saw, and he didn’t. “You had it once you flexed,” Dabi says from just outside the fence. “You dumbass. Why did you think the guy who summoned me and the megaphone with legs would be weak? Give me back my human.”
You have a rule about not laughing at Dabi’s jokes, but ‘megaphone with legs’ as a description for Hizashi is too funny to ignore. You’re giggling weakly to yourself as Keigo emerges from your house, stepping through the wreckage of your fence to join Dabi on the street. He’s got one arm in a sling and a few scratches on his face, but otherwise he looks okay. “Was it just me, or was that way too close?” he asks the ghosts and the Nomu and Shirakumo still hanging out in the street. “If we do anything like that again, we need to fix – hey, watch the arm!”
Dabi’s grabbed him, not dissimilarly to the way Tomura grabbed you, and he plants an incredibly weird-looking kiss on him. You’ve never tried making out with Tomura while he’s half-materialized, and there’s a good reason. There’s – tongues. You can see them. Keigo puts his hand against Dabi’s face and pushes him partly back, but that doesn’t dissuade Dabi at all. He picks Keigo up and marches right back across the street, up their front steps, and into the house.
“Uh, goodnight,” you say faintly. The door slams shut.
“Is there a human saying for post-victory sex?” That’s Magne’s voice. She and Atsuhiro are making their way up the street. “Humans have the silliest names for the most disgusting things they do.”
“I think post-victory sex is about as descriptive as it gets,” Shirakumo says in that strange doubled voice. The other Nomu is still standing there, hands down at its sides, and Shirakumo turns to it. “Hey. Natsu, right? I think we probably need to talk.”
“He’s doing better,” Nemuri remarks to Hizashi as the two Nomus cross the street. “Did something happen?”
“They merged. Him and the ghost,” Tomura says. He’s still holding you, and you’re starting to get really cold. “They wanted to help more than they wanted to die.”
“Good,” Hizashi says after a moment. He looks relieved. “Can I have my humans back now?”
“I don’t want your humans.” Tomura doesn’t look up, but when you peer over his shoulder, you see Shinsou carrying Eri and helping Aizawa navigate the stairs at the same time. “If you even think about setting foot in my yard again, I’ll kill you and I’ll make it hurt.”
“Deal,” Hizashi says. He glances at you, still relieved even though Tomura’s just threatened to kill him. “I misjudged your human, anyway. She’s not so bad after all.”
You didn’t trust Hizashi very much before today, and now you don’t trust him at all – but you think you’ve got a handle on what he’s like, which means his comment makes absolutely no sense. He doesn’t like you. He sees you as a threat to his family’s safety because he thinks you could compromise Tomura. Why would he say that he misjudged you in front of another ghost, knowing that Tomura can probably tell if he’s lying? If he wasn’t lying, but if he wasn’t lying, why did he change his tune about you?
The question’s a little too much for you to answer right now. Your brain is still scrambled and you’re freezing cold. Tomura refuses to put you down until Jin’s mom, who’s coming over to retrieve Jin, realizes your lips are blue and makes him do it. You stagger into the house under your own power, peel off your shoes, and head straight upstairs to your room. You get under the blankets fully clothed and curl up into a ball, trying to stay warm. There’s no way you’ll be able to sleep until the shivers die down.
You hear the front door close and lock like it’s coming from a long way away, then footsteps up the stairs. Tomura drops Phantom on the bed and she snuggles against you over the covers. It helps, sort of. You sneak one icy hand out to pet her ears, only to bump against Tomura’s hand doing the same thing. “You feel cold like me,” he says. You make some kind of awful, teeth-chattery noise of agreement. It’s quiet for a second. “I hurt you. You let me. Why?”
“You had to learn.” You don’t want to talk about this. “I was fine afterward. What the conjurer did was way worse.”
“I hurt you. Are you scared of me again?” Tomura sounds miserable. “You’re scared again. You’ll leave.”
“Not scared,” you mumble. “Not leaving. I just wanted to help. I wanted to make sure you won, and I wasn’t sure you could.”
You’re hoping that doubting his strength will set him off on bragging about how tough he is, so he’ll forget all about this. But you’re not so lucky. You spent all of tonight’s luck somewhere else. “I don’t understand,” Tomura says. “You let me hurt you for the neighborhood?”
“Don’t be stupid,” you say, just in time for it to occur to you that you’ve never really let on that you’re concerned with anything but the neighborhood as a whole. “I let you to make sure you won. I didn’t want something bad to happen to you.”
“So I could keep protecting the neighborhood.”
“No,” you say, too fast and too sure. “So I could keep hanging out with you.”
There’s probably a better way to say it. A more honest way to say it. If you were a ghost you’d be one hundred percent busted, because you’re lowballing this to a ridiculous degree. You want more stupid movie nights where he spends the entire movie asking questions and you have to rewind it and watch it again. You want more moments where you spy on him playing with Phantom, more moments where you watch him try to understand humans and succeed a little more each time. You want to teach him how to cook more things, not so he’ll cook for you but because he likes to know how things work and how to do them right. You want more makeouts and hookups and moments where he stays close to you without either of you understanding why.
You want to keep hanging out with Tomura, sure. You want that because you love him.
“That’s what I want,” Tomura says, surprised. “Wait, do you –”
“We agree. We don’t need to talk about it anymore.” You curl up into a tighter ball around Phantom and look up at Tomura. “Are you staying or what?”
Tomura looks even more surprised than before. “You said I don’t get to stay on your bed at night.”
“And you don’t listen. I know where you are even when you’re dematerialized,” you say. “You might as well do it embodied. And outside the sheets, so I don’t freeze.”
You can tell Tomura’s confused, but he hops onto the bed anyway, sprawling out on the other side. “It wasn’t hard to kill that conjurer,” he says. “I could do it again.”
For some reason, that’s when it clicks for you – the reason Hizashi doesn’t hate you anymore, the reason he was relieved. His problem with you is that you’re a reason for Tomura to give up being a ghost. The only way to give up being a ghost is to completely drain a human being and take their place, and it only happens if the ghost wants to be human more than they’ve ever wanted anything else in the whole world, in all of time. Tomura completely drained a human being tonight. If he was going to embody himself permanently, this was his chance. And he didn’t.
You knew he wouldn’t. You’ve always known that. You’ve known forever that loving Tomura would mean loving him as a ghost and nothing else. It’s best this way. The neighborhood stays protected. Hizashi stops hating you. This is how it’s supposed to be.
“Hey.” Tomura shakes your shoulder, then touches your cheek. “What are these? Are you crying?”
“Humans do that sometimes to relieve stress,” you say. You’re amazed with the steadiness in your voice. “It’s fine.”
“Mm.” Tomura sounds skeptical, but he doesn’t argue with you. He edges closer to you, drapes one arm around your waist and presses against your back. All you can feel through the blankets is the faintest chill. “You can be the spoon this time.”
“The little spoon,” you correct. “You’re the big spoon.”
“What if I don’t want to be a spoon?”
“Then find a different way to snuggle.” You don’t want him to do that. You want him to hold you like this until you fall asleep, and when a vaguely aggrieved silence falls, you know you’ll get your wish. “It’s not so bad.”
“Idiot,” Tomura mumbles. “Go to sleep.”
You close your eyes, sandwiched between your ghost and your dog, not quite cold and not quite warm. It’s almost comfortable. Maybe you should fall asleep like this every night.
If you ever sleep again. When you wake up in the middle of the night, frozen with incomprehensible terror from a dream of the world between, you’re not sure you’ll even dare to close your eyes.
More Posts from Flamme-shigaraki-spithoe and Others
My Little Pet
YA’LL THOUGHT YOU WERE GETTING SHIGGY FLUFF?! NOPE!!!!
I just thought of this while i was reading yandere shigaraki things. I’ll get to more requests later but god damn i can’t ignore this insufferable urge.
Yandere Shigaraki x Reader
Warnings: Angst, yandere shiggy, dark themes, violence, abuse, degradation, suicide, implied noncon, like this has absolutely no happiness
A/N: Warning this shit gets hella dark, this is way darker then the ‘Dead to Me’ fic i wrote awhile ago. Please note that this may trigger some people so please read at your own risk.
~~~
You sat in the room that held you captive as you shivered in fear. Your hands were the only thing that consoled you as you wrap your arms around your self as if to feel the warmth of a hug. Tears streaming down your eyes as your body was sore.
The man know as Tomura Shigaraki had kidnapped you, saying how he was so in love with you. How could you have loved someone you never met? His reasoning made absolutely no sense but you guess in the mind of a villain nothing ever made sense. Of course you thought that it couldn’t get any worse when he had kidnapped you but how wrong you were.
He would punish you for the littlest of things. Didn’t say hi to him? That earned you a slap. Didn’t wear the clothes he wanted you to wear even if he didn’t tell you he wanted you to wear them? No food for you for the rest of the day. Fallen asleep when he didn’t say you could? Beaten to a pulp.
His punishments were cruel and harsh, no remorse in his eyes while doing it. You had begged him to stop on multiple occasions but that only got you beaten harder. So you just took it, no tears no noise. Nothing to get him mad at you for. The worse one was not to long ago when you were brought to death’s door step.
Afficher davantage
Tbh i think it depend xD he can def be good but if he don't give a fuck 'bout you it's all gonna be for his pleasure xD but he can be 😔✋
Shiggy from mha
Please reblog for a larger sample size.
Omg yes !😂
Gives me Shigaraki vibes
TvT my first oneshot i hope its not that bad my english is so poor
A friend of a Friend
Tomura shigaraki x reader
You came to see your online friend in a dark alley, he didn't came alone and its going to change the plan of the night.(English is not my first language)
NSFW warning: dubcon, bondage, somnophilia ,anal (a little), cum play, chocking kink, cru words. (Tell me of i miss something)
A friend of a Friend.
You were walking in a dark alley as you were about to finaly meet your online friend.
To be completly honest you couldn't wait. He was kinda grumpy sometime but most of a time were a sweet shy cinnamonroll. You were a very known streamer and you actually have a lot of creepy fan so the place of the meet up wasn't the most exiting one. You tried to stay calm until your friend arrive. It was the first time you meet one of your online friend irl and you were sadly only thinking about your safety. Not that you were wrong through...
When you were about to get back home thinking that he will probably never come, you saw two man coming. They were in the darker part of the alley so you couldn't see there face.
You realise fast enought that they might be a danger. You were quirkless. Plus your friend was supposed to came alone so it couldn't be him.
You are a foreigner, you'r nit jappanes and you defenetly don't know this city. Still you instinct tell you to walk fast in the opposit way... Stess and apprention were almost suffocating you as you wish to not have a panic attack at this moment and fall like those stupid girl in horror movies.
It was too late when you realise that this path was a close one. You face the mans that were still following you...well that were following you because you weren't actually shute they did it could have been in your head. The enormous amout of horror game could have somehow affect your way of seeing things ?
The two man's footsteps were the only sound in the alley. Your breath was heavy but silencious as you try to make yourself as small as possible not wanting any problem but ready to deffend you life.
When the first man appear your muscles immediatly relax as you reconise is face. He smile at you looking kinda amused by your réaction.
"Shuishi you bastard you scared the shit out of me !"
You laught as you hug your friend.
His body was tensing as he was obliously not used to physical touch. The stress rapidly hit you again as you saw red eyes scanning your body in a way that make you shiver. You let go of your friend and you look at the second man your eyesbrow narrowed in an annoyed expression.
"Who is that ?"
You can see the second man slightly flinching and your friend awkwardly thinking of an awnser.
"That...uh that is Tomura !"
He knew you were a foreigner so how could you know his identité right ?
"Ookay ?"
You respond to him obviously nit satisfief of his respond.
"He kinda like your vidéo and he is the great gamer i told you about !"
Your expression soften a little as you give him your hand for a handshake
"Hi then ! I'm really happy to know you ! Thanks for looking at my content ! It really help."
He look at your hand with an awkard expression like you were the most weird things on earth. You were begining to feel insulted but he finaly respond as he shake your hand his pinky up.
"Hi then...no problem, whatever."
You look at him as awkwardly but you were actually kinda amused. He look shy and his voice sound so cutely weird too ! But you inner you was insulting you for thinking that like, litteraly nothing tell you that he is gonna be your type so what are you feeling all mushy ? You should really calm yourself...
Your friend Shuishi clear is troath and the man with crimson eyes's hand immediatly leave yours.
You could barely see the rest of his face because of his mask and his hood but you can see some white hair comming out that were shining in the light of tge moon contrating with the darkness of the place.
Shuishi then propose you to go to a coffee. It sound weird at night but you agree. When yiu arrived you saw that it also do snacks. You were happy to arrived because Shuishi and Tomura were not tge type to talk a lot on the way. Of course you and Shuishi had some talk after all it was you guys meet up but he was kinda shy and you were having a hard time with Tomura's eyes scanning. You can almost feel it crawing in your skin and passing throught your clothes.
He, on his side were litteraly eye fucking you. He's been watching your live since the begining. Even your vidéo that were less popular. You had became his obsession. More then once he through of kidnapping you and here, on of the vilains of his groups just give you to him in such an easy way. It had been hard persuading Spiner to let him have her but hell nah he doesn't regret anything.
The little group enter in the coffee, it was empty if it wasn't for the worker. We could see how tired they were just by looking at them and you almost felt bad for making them work this late.
You just look at Shuishi but he wasn't looking at you. He simply walk to a table right next to a big window. You natutally sit next to the lezard man. You were kinda confused when tomura choose to sit right in front of you when the most logical part for him would be to sit next to the Window in front of Shuishi.
When the waitress came taking order they both take a back coffee but your friend also take a donut. You deceide to take a donut and a hot chocolate with a hint of coffee.
As you were waiting Tomura went to the bathroom, you used this occasion to talk to your friend about him.
"Shu ! Why did you bring him ! You know that i'm not comfortable with strangers ! Especially him ! Did you see how he looked at me ?"
You were speaking in an hushed tone as you couldn't stop pinching your thighs.
"Come on, can't you force yourself a little ? Just try giving him a chance. Yes Tomura is..special but i'm shure you two could get along pretty well."
You sigh and close your arms.
"Fine...but if he act too weird you'll make him leave right ?"
He look annoyed but he nod.
"Fine."
Before the conversation have the time to go any futher you saw the blue haired man coming back. You gave him a small smile and you could swear you saw him blushing a little.
You began to feel uneasy again but Shuishi start talking about vidéo game. It was the hobbies that you three shared. For the first time you have a real talk with both of them. For the first time, you just realise, Tomura had talk. His voice was cracked but someway soft. You were feeling better now, he was kinda cool and, a real good playet from what you were hearing.
The waitress arrived with your and the other's orders. You couldn't help but smile happily at the sight of your donut.
You look at Tomura and you couldn't stop yourself from wondering about why he still have his hood on. Some people have mask so its more commun but most of the time when they arn't outside people take their hood of.
Tomura frose at your words. Did you somehow revonised him ? Why were you staring at him so hard ? He instinctivly start scratching his neck furiously. It make you looked away whitch doesn't stop him from continuing. He saw you tock a big hungry bite and coudle help but immagine your lips and your cheeks wrapped around his cock. He can feel his pants becaming too tight to his liking. He grunt at the feelings but rapidly control himself as you look at him once again.
You were happily eating as you hear a weird nose. You look up at the man that were in front of you and you eyes widened as you saw his hood off. It had been puld back by his hand when he wzs scratching himself. You couldn't help but close your thighs at the sight. Many would be disgusted by his features but you find them alluring. You often find men classic and enven basics but him, with all his features he was defenetly your type.
Spiner caught you looking at his friend and couldn't help but smile as he hope that you'll like Tomura and that he won't have to force you to be by his side.
You finish eating and you look at shigaraki drinking his coffee as you have a huge of booping his nose that were currently block against the coffee cup.
It really gave you mixed up signal. A part of you were uneasy and wanted yo ran away but the other was already having a huge crush on him.
Tomura looked at Spiner with a cold gaze indicating him that it was now time to let him have you. It didn't gave a lot of time to the lizard vilains to imagine a lie to let the two of you alone.
You were, on your side trying to chose if you like him or not and the yes was becaming to win. You see that Spiner was about to talk so you quickly interupt him.
"Spiner can i talk to you please ? In private.."
Shigaraki looked sad almost like a lost puppy but it quicky turn to an annoyed and angry cringy face that make you block on him for a second.
Spiner nod while having an eyes on shigaraki to make shure that his boss isn't ready to break.
Once you two were outside of the coffee, you let your stress take ahead of yourself.
"-Oh Shuishi ! I have a big problem with your friend !"
You saw him flinch at your final words.
"-Come on y/n i ask you to at least try..i-"
You don't let hil time to finish.
"-That's not the problem ! Shu, i have a crush on him ! I said no crush on tha viewer !"
The next sentence was a terrible excuse but you couldn't accept that the reason you doesn't want to have a crush on him was that he is the définition of a freak.
Shuishi couldn't help but laugh at the situation. He was also relief. Now it was his job to lead you to accept your attraction to his boss.
"Really ? Well hum i'm not the best with those things but i think that you should tell him anyway ! I think that you two would do a pretty good duo ! And it won't hurt you to try would it ?"
He saw you thinking of it and he was happy to saw you considering it.
"Maybe.."
You said as you could help but imagine you with him.
"But if he reject me its your fault ! "
You always were the type to be direct about your love 'cause you didn't see the point of hiding it for too long.
You two came back in the coffee and you were a blushing mess. Your stomac was tingling as you felt butterfly. One day you saw onlinr that often its your body that feel thrilled...you didn't even know if it was true or another fake information but it made you thinks of the song "inferno".
Here you felt like it was true as you body fight the urge to be with him and to ran away.
He was starting to get impatient but you came right before it was too much.
He was about to ask Shuishi to get the fuck out again but you stand right in front of him and say like it was the most easy things in the world
"Oi ! I have a crush on you ! "
He vent all red from the tip of his toes to the head.
"The hell ?!"
He say without really thinking if it.
On your side you were determined, after all we only have one life ! But his réaction really wasn't making things easy.
"So..hm.."
You try as you start to get embarrassed. What if Shuishi was wrong ? Usually the lizzard man doesn't say things he's not shure of but what if he was wrong this time ?
"Okay. I think you'r hot too."
The voice of Tomura cut your through with these words. You slightly blush at his words. You didn't really say that he was hot and he doesn't really confirm his feelings for you but it was a good start that allowed you a little bit of relief.
"Thanks hmm..i don't hm..what's next ? "
You asked as you were nit used to this type of things. You already had a relashionship in the past but it was in hight school so its been a while for now on and, having a crush as an adult probably is a lot defferent but him, he act like a teenager as he blush hard as he take your hand.
"You can come to my place ?"
This time your were the one that blush as you feel a tingling sensation in your cheek. He blush when he take your hand and then asked you to come to his house ? Who the hell is he ?!
On his side Spiner was looking at the two of you while feeling quite uncomfortable.
"Yea he's not wrong, you two really need to get a room.."
///
That's how you end in this situation, entering in a bar full of vilains in a town you didn't know with a stranger you have a weird crush on and an online friend that you saw for the first time. You could see that almost every one in here were looking at you and you couldn't help be feel goosebum as their gaze wasn't friendly. A man with a weird smoke quirk great you and your "companion".
"Hi, you should be y/n. I'm hapoy to meet you."
He doesn't let you the time to process his words and tge fact that he already know you tgat he turn to Tomura like Spiner doesn't even exist.
"Its a pleasure to see you back Tomura shigaraki. Can i do Anything.."
He was cut of by a sharp no from the blue haired man. The bartender just nod and start cleaning his glass again finaly asking Spiner if he wanted something to dring.
You were still a little lost when Tomura grab your hand.
"Come on"
He lead you to his room and sit in his bed his hand still wrapped around your wrist his pinky up.
"What are you waiting for ?"
He asked in a cold tone.
He wasn't doing it on purpose, he just felt to much and not enought at the same time. It all were unreal. He doesn't knew what to do too and he was also feeling sick with appreantion. His gaze was focus on your wrist were his fingers were in contact with your bare skin. It was so soft in contrast to his rought one. So easy to break that he wanted to touch you more before he might see it break apart.
You sit right next to him and he wish that the bed would have your sent after you will be gone.No. He won't let you go. Ever. Never. His heart fluter when you finaly talk.
"What do you want ?"
It was so simples words. So simple but they have so much hiding sense to Tomura when you said them. For him it was a consent to be more intimate.
"I want to touch you.."
He said with is voice shivering in a cracked tone. As his eyes finaly meet your and open wide at your smiling one. He wanted to keep them. If you were to die he would keep your eyes for him forever.
"Go on"
You sait as you cutely bite your lips and smile once again. Your smile was warm but somehow shy. He also wanted to bite your lips. Master had told him that he can have everything he want. And you told him to "go on" so he didn't asked before doing it.
Your heart skipped a beat as he pull you closer and almost hit you with his lips in a small peek before bitting your lips. He felt weird. He clearly wasn't experiznced. You already have kiss soemone before so you wanted to lead him.
You let a little noise of pain when his tooth broke the skin but he didn't bite too hard so you didn't really complain. You gently pass your hand throught his hair as he let a loud grunt at the feelings. He was also very vocal during the kiss and even with your attemps on leading him to a gently one he ignore them and continue bitting you until you open your mouth to complain. It was a big mistake and he used it to pass his tongue in your mouth. The surprise make you lose you balance and you fall on top of him. You were surprise to feel his chest toned. He looked quite skinny not that it was bothering you. His grip on your wrist didn't loose and he only let you go once he was satified with his firsy kiss.
You had spit all around your mouth and he looked quite amused. The tatse of your own blood replace the taste of his mouth and you cringe at the sensation as you wipe your mouth. He couldn't help be grin proudly at the sight.
"Was that your first kiss ?"
You asked curiously. It wasn't mean or at least yiu didn't meant to be but it wipe his smile away as dark blush appear on his cheek ear and nose once again you wanted to boop him.
"Yes ! Do you have a problem with that ?"
He asked with a shame hid under some fake anger. She can see his embarassement easily so you try to cool him down.
"No of course not ! It was just..sloppy ?"
He laugh at the word you used
"I like it that way"
He simply said.
You open your mouth in a O as you deceide not to say anything about about that and the fact that here it was more then just sloppy and that he almost wet half of your face.
You just smile and try to figure out what to do next. You never don't even know if you really wanted to go any futher. You never really had done anything sexual before. You only had pump your old boyfriend's dick but you didn't do anything more as you didn't felt comfortable. But in some weird way with him you felt better about it. It wasn't plan in any way it was just caught in the moment, in the feelings and sensation.
He grin again and he asked
"do you ever fucked soemone ?"
You blush hard at the sudden question, he really wasn't like most people isn't he ? Talking about that you start to realise that he was hard. And not just a little. You wonder if it was the kiss that make him like this. It was only through his pants so you couldn't see everything but he was shure big. Your mouth water at the sight and you hear him chuckles as you quickly look away in shame.
"Hey i asked you a question..eager arn't you ?"
He laught once again and his hand grab your shirt. It quickly deseaper and some ashed fall on the bed.
"Hey !"
You complain, even if it wasn't a shirt you especially like it was still one of your shirt ! You start feeling exposed as he was now able to see you in your bra only. He quickly remove it and you instintly hid your breast under your palm.
Even without really seeing them Tomura could already feel himself being close. The sight was mesmerizing.
"You'r beautifull."
He simply say as you felt weak under his piercing eyes that were trying to memorise every detail of your upper body.
His cock was painfully hard at this point and he couldn't help but grunt as his pants was suddently was to tight. In a second your skirt and short were off as he almost ripped them. You didn't have time to complain before he used your surprise to grab your breast. The contact between his rought hand and the soft skin of your boobs make you shiver and his head fall back.
"T-Tomura ? Are you okay?!"
You asked as yiu saw him eyes closed in the matrest twitching a little. You look at him to check him out and your eyes widened at the sight of the extasic expression on his face. The smile he had was almost scary and his red eyes looked almost dark with his pupil that growed as the orgasme hit him. He just came in his pants.
A twisted part of yourself find it cute but the rest was a bit desapointed. His hand was still holding on your breast and when he finaly calm down it start massaging you. It almost hurt as he was shurly doing it for himself more then for your pleasure but you still couldn't help but be exited by it. You wated more then just that ad you truly hope that he can be able to last longer.
He spend at least for minutes just touching your breast as you were waiting for him to get bored. He only stopped when you hide your face on the crock of his neck and start sucking on his skin. He pass a lot of time scratching himself so your saliva on his wound almost burn at first. It cought him out of gard and his body tense. Feelings your bare skin against him as you were glue to him to the point of sucking his neck was a lot of physical contact and intimate one with that. He didn't know how to react to it so he just let you do as you wanted almost scared that of he were to move you would stopped. His mind were screaming him to take charge but he was too caught in the moment. The feelings of your tongue exploring each of the scars of his neck was driving him crazy. You slowly took his pants down and you quickly did the same for the rest of his closed feeling more in power now that you'r not the only one nacked. He feel too hot in that moment. His usual cold skin was in total contrast to your hot one and the heat was almost keeping him from breathing as your hand brush against his twitching cock. The tip was red and a bit inclaned in a way that was perfect. Yiu never really find dick beautifull but if you had to admit that his was a work of art. They were some veins that run and twitch at your touch. At the base some rare blue body hair were almost making a ring around his proud member as his balls were seeming full of semen under it. You gave him a few pump at it was the only things you were really experiznced about and you look at his face for his reactiong and the look was priceless. She gave him some more as you felt yourself wetting your panties at the through of him slaming into you.
He rapidly come once again white smemen splashing on the matress and your hand. He didn't have warned you 'cause he was scared that you may have stopped. He couldn't help his wicked smile as he saw your angelic hand ruined with his cum. He swear he could have come again when he saw you licking it of your fingers. He almost felt jealous of your fingers. Alsmost because he doesn't wanted to come again if it wasn't on you. Plus he was scared to not be able to hold back in you. Even your gently hand felt so much better then his own so he could only imagine how your pussy would.
You were already wet but he knew he had to prepare you. I want you to enjoy it so that you'll be willing to do it again with him. He spit on one of his hand and pull your panties down with the other. He look qt you to see if you were ready and your blushing and shy face immediatly make him hard again. A huge smile spread on his face making his lips even more shaped as he spead your legs. The sight was alluring. Your wet hot sex right in front of him ready for him to touch as he wanted.
He slowly put a finger in that cought a moan out of your mouth and give him the encouragement to continue. He start moving it in at first not really knowing how to do so but he quickly start understanding what feels good and what don't and you quickly start feeling incredibly good. He had another fingers in, always trying to put in deeper even if it was already deeper then you ever reach alone. He's a very quirck learner when he put in the effort. You start seeing star and mewing when he add a fird one.
"Please..Fuck Tomura that's good.."
You moan as you hold onto his arm that were holding you up onto him.
He didn't stop smiling as he were moaning from time to time at how you felt on his finger while imagining how it would be on his dick.
"Freaking tight..do you ever ?"
He asked as he was fucus of how he was streatching your pussy.
"No.."
He felt even happier when he learn that he was your first.
"Good."
He simply say as his fingers start to speed up making you clench on him. You start to feel the usual tingling sensation in your stomac that arrived when you were about to cum. The speed of his fingers making you see start but he stopped right before you came.
"No !~ !"
You moan as laught cruely.
"What ? Don't you want the real things ?"
He said pumping his dick as some tears start glowing in the corner of your eyes.
"Its not fair..you already came twice.."
He smile again at you moue.
You position yourself on his laps and take a deep breath before looking at him with appreantion. He also look a bit unshure but he let you in command for now on only.
You slowly but yourself in front of his tip as you pray for him to actually fit.
You slowly go down and your face cringe in pain as you felt like you were being cut in two. It hurt so bad tears was already falling on your cheek.
Tomura on his side were already in pure bliss. It was so warm and so soft but also so tight he was seeing some spot of light in the dark room that were his.
You finay sat on his dick having it tataly in. All of your muscles were tense whitch honestly didn't help much for feeling better. You stay like this for a minute before he came again. You throught that ut was already the end before yiu felt him imediatly hzrd again.
"Fuuuck !"
He almost scream as a dark chuckles come out of his troath. He put his hand on your thighs and put you uo then down forcing you to bounce. You yelp at the pain and he grunt in satisfaction. A small sensations of pleasure finaly coming in your pussy help you relaxed a little bit.
He does the process again and the pleasure spead even futher. The pain wzs still there but this time you moan along with him. After some bounce you finaly relax as he change position a sadistic smile on his face.
"You know what pet ? I think this is a little bit too vanilla yo my liking..don't you thinks ? After all, slut like you that fucked on the firt day like it rought huh ?"
He laught and trust real hard this time making your eyes roll back and your grip on him tighent.
"Oooh yes ! You like that when i call you a slut don't you hmm ?"
You hated to feel this good and that he was completly right about you.
"Please Tomura..just.."
You moan as he was still pounding hard. You head feelings light as your legs closed around him for some stability.
"Please what doll ? Scream it ! I want the whole league to hear you be such a big vilains slut especially Spiner ! The wall are so small.."
He's laught is now mental, his smile too but it only make your arrousal worse. You did as he said too desperate to feel him, to feel how hood he can make you.
"Please break me !"
He put his hand around your troath now deceiding of the amount of breath you needed.
"That's it, you'r a good girl arn't yuh ?"
You could really respond with his hand around your troath like this. You never knew it was one of your kink before but it just felt right now that he does it.
You doesn't even remember how easily he could kill you of he lost his self control, you were feeling like you were in a buble and exept him and the pleasure and pain that cloud yoir mind you couldn't feel or think of anything. You can feel the skin of your neck breaking under his fingertips. No one even him realise how your "quirkless" body resist to the deadly touch of five of his finger. You two were too extasic to realise that you couldn't be affected by his quirk.
You moan his name to make him know that you were closed whitch he honestly already know with how tight you were while twitching around his cock like a vice.
"Fucking hold it you cum dump slut ! Wait until i cum !"
He said as he slap the fat of your ass with his free hand.
You was crying like a baby at that moment your whole body trying to stop yourself from dysobeing him as he wzs pounding in you at an inhuman speed.
He let a final guttural grunt as he came along with you. You past out in the process leaving him your unconsious body. Nit that it will stopped him of course, this man have an incredible stamina.
When you finaly whoke up the next morning, your body wzs sore, cum was still driping out of your pussy and you also had so new on your belly and your face. You also were tied up to the edges of the bed. At first you were scared and lost but when a sting of pleasure hit you, you look down to see a Tomura with big dark circles under his eyes sucking in your tits and bitting it gently. Your belly and other boobs were full of love bite and other trace of owning. He great you with a big smile as he finaly stop and kiss you passionaly but still in a sloppy way. Your whole body but more especially your cunt hurt badly. How many time did he used you like this ?! The whole night ?! You also just realise that you two didn't used any condom.
"Tomura ?!"
You scream when he end the kiss, you were about to ask some explaination but the warm loving smile he gave you lake you blush incredibly hard.
"Hii my beloved pet ! Do you enjoy your night ? Because i shure do thanks to you ! Now i'll give you a reward~"
He looked at your with hungry eyes that make you want to hide. Sadly in the position he toed you in you were completly at his mercy.
He moved until his head was right in front of your clit and he start licking it like a kitten. You were incredibly sensitive from the night you past so the simple act make you cry a little. His rought lips were just si perfect against your abused cunt that every kiss felt like heaven. You were desperatly trying to move or close you legs but you couldn't and the act just make him laught witch cause you even more pleasure as it vibrate. Your arrousal were dripping on the bed as he moved down his pretty long tongue intering your hot sex as his nose was teasing your clit.
You were babeling about how much it was and that you couldn't take more but you couldn't talk properly. He laugh and try yo tease you even more.
"What ? I can't understand darling, do my pet want more ?~"
He wrap a hand on your neck and force it forward as he put a finger in your ass making you yelp at the intrusion. He oush it deep enought to touch the wall that is between your pussy and ass appling some pressure to your wall and make shure tgat his tongue can easily hit your g spot.
His attack rapidly made you cum desperatly as your wall body were twitching. You could barely take you breath with his hand around your troath. He kissed you again before finaly let you take a proper breath.
"You did so well doll, now lets just rest all right ? I'll clean you up after"
He smile and pass out on top of you. You were still panting. You realise that he let you tied up so you couldn't move but just wait untill he whoke up to free you. He was happily resting on your chest. It was kinda scary to know that he had abused you the whole night , but at the end of the day it wasn't this bad after all..after it was now your new life. Your new life by his side.
5685 words
Flamme.
My my, this account is gold !😭🤌✨
Come Down to the Black Sea
Summary: The sea seems to call to you, but it’s not the tumultuous clash of the waves you should fear. Something lurks deep beneath the black waters, something sinister with a piqued interest and ill intent.
Rating: Teen, unless I chose to post the later chapters. Then things get all dirty and stuff.
Warnings: Siren!Shigaraki. So, there’s that. Foul language, as always. Slight struggle.
Hello, please take my garbage. This was originally a discord exclusive ficlet that ended up too fucking long. I meant to post it a while back but got distracted. I’ve read over it and I hate it a lot more than I did originally, more than I can really convey, but I feel bad for not posting anything story related for a while and maybe some folks will enjoy this. I promise I edited, I swear. Never thought I’d write something like this. Ever. and by ‘like this’, I mean no filth less than 500 words in. Either way, here it is.
“What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams.”
The sea is as much a constant to you as the gentle breeze that blankets your little port town. Every action you take daily in some small way reminds you that not so far away, the unforgiving tides are lapping hungrily at the shore and the restless ocean waters stir miles from the coast. Every breath you take is somewhat tinged with the briny smell of sea salt and slight sulfur. Seafood stalls and restaurants dot the coastal region, making up a large portion of the diets and employ of the folks who make their homes here.
Yet, for as big of a part of their lives as it is, there is so little known about it.
The ocean’s mysteries are as vast as her expanse and as deep as the trenches that lurk within her depths.
Children are raised on cautionary tales, made acutely aware of the ever-present dangers of life near the open water. Rip currents and drowning, sailors lost at sea and boats that never make it to harbor. Hostile creatures that make their nests within the darkened deep beyond the pale of human experience. These things are often as mysterious as they are tragic and leave behind loved ones mourning not only the loss of lives, but the answers they’ll never have.
Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if your kind has gotten just a bit too comfortable near the seaside.
You’re not the only one that thinks so.
Afficher davantage
Anxious
(Back again with the soft Tomura, been anxious and overthinking a lot lately so this is a bit of a comfort fic for me! Hope it can comfort you too!~)
Tomura Shigaraki x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Platonic
Summary: You’re new to the League of Villains. You have already proven yourself in combat, showing off your skills with flying colors. Yet it’s easy to see how anxious you are around people when your mind isn’t focused on fighting.
CW/TW: people being judging assholes, degrading comments towards reader (none by the league, just some strangers)
(Y’all are beautiful and sweet, try not to listen to the haters! <3)
~~~~~~
You hadn’t been in the League long, just barely over two weeks and it taken longer than you’d like to admit to get used to everyone’s names. Oftentimes you hung out with Toga or Twice, seeing as they accepted you and made you feel more at ease. Mr. Compress was nice too, one of the firsts to notice your anxiety and help you with it.
You didn’t see much of Spinner, but from what interactions you did have, he was respectful of your anxiety too.
Dabi and especially Tomura, however, scared you to hell and back. Not only did they look like they’d kill you with just one glance, (and honestly they very well could), but they had an air about them. They seemed so high up in the League’s rankings that you were too nervous to even try to talk to them outside missions or training.
It was a Friday night, no big plans were coming up so the league was out and about doing their own things. You were in the training room at base, doing small things with your quirk to test your capabilities.
The sound of the door opening tore your attention away, your head turning to see Tomura in the open doorway.
“Need me for something?” You asked as politely as you could in his presence, the deadpan stare alone made you want to shiver. Tomura was hard to read.
“Come with me. We’re getting snacks.”
You blinked, not expecting the words but nodded nonetheless. You straightened up your clothes as you walked over, taking the jacket he held out to you.
“Wear that. It’ll hide your face.” He spoke, and as he turned, you though you almost imagined him muttering “Plus it’s cold out.”
Either way, you put on the jacket and flipped the hood over your head, following Tomura out of base and onto the yellow-lit streets of the city.
A small part of you found it fun, walking around in the city at night. You never did it often before you found yourself in the League. Plus it was much quieter at night, something you enjoyed. Your gaze drifted to the road, your mind picking out the colors of cars that passed by. Your ears picked up on passing conversations of cars and apartments above, no words to be heard, but the sound of voices was unmistakable.
Your gaze drifted to your feet, Tomura’s moving next to and slightly in front of yours, watching as your shoes made minuscule splashes in the puddles from yesterdays rain shower. An alley cat caught your attention next, head turning to watch the dark-furred feline jump up after a moth fluttering by a door light.
More alleyways passed by, some holding overturned, half full trashcans, others holding trashcans so full the owners had to place the trash bags on the ground next to them. Occasionally, you’d spot movement further in the alleyways, most likely a drunkard or a thug trying to hide away from the road’s street lights.
If Tomura was talking to you, you did not pay him any notice, your mind far too immersed in the city’s ambience to pay attention to much else.
At one point, you thought you saw a flicker of Dabi’s blue flames, way back in a darker alley, to which you pointedly turned your head the other direction. You’d only heard of what Dabi does to people, you didn’t wish to see it in action just yet.
“We’re here.”
You jumped out of your musings at Tomura’s voice, which in the moment sounded almost too loud, your head turning to see a run down general store. Either your wandering mind had kept a listening ear out for Tomura’s voice, or he had purposely raised his voice to pull you from such thoughts.
Following him inside, you glanced around the building. The floors definitely needed cleaned, the shelves were mostly stocked (aside from one entirely empty shelf). The only cashier there looked like he’d rather be anywhere else as he stared up at the TV playing some random late night cop show, his expression making him seem either half dead or half high, you couldn’t quite place it.
But damn, what a mood.
“Get whatever snack you want, I’ll pay.”
A part of you wanted to protest, you never liked having others pay for you, but you didn’t bring any money, and you figured it was best to take Tomura’s generosity when he gave it.
So you nodded and wandered off from his side, perusing the shelves. As you were moving from the sour candies, which you noticed were out of date, and onto the sweeter ones, you glanced up at the sound of the door opening, two teens wandering in.
Paying them no more attention, you reached down for a bag of your favorite chocolates, turning the bag over to check the expiration date.
“Are they really considering chocolate with that figure?” A hushed voice sounded at the end of the aisle.
You tensed, pretending to look busy with reading the other candy labels. The teens thought they were being subtle with their whispers, but in a rundown store like this late at night, their voices were more than quiet.
“Dunno, doubt they care if they’re in a place like this at night though.”
You shook as their quiet laughs reached your ears. God why? Your figure always upset you, some days you looked too big, others you looked too thin.
However, just before your thoughts could spiral more, you noticed their laughter abruptly stop. You lifted your head, just a slight glance up, and immediately dropped your gaze again.
Tomura was standing at the opposite end of your aisle from them, giving them the nastiest glare you’d ever seen on a person’s face. And without the hand on Tomura’s face? Not a look you’d want directed at you.
“Find what you want, (Y/n)?” He spoke up, making sure the two teens heard him as he stepped up to your side, giving you a gentle look that oddly enough, put you at ease.
“Y-Yeah.” You piped up quietly, earning a nod from Tomura.
“Alright, let’s go.” He replied, the toe of his shoe tapping against your ankle to get you moving towards the cash register.
Thankfully, he’d placed himself between you and the two teens, and you wondered if they’d pissed themselves in addition to how pale they’d gone.
You fiddled with a small phone charm up by the register as Tomura paid the cashier, but set it down as he handed the bag to you.
This time, he had you lead your duo out of the store, following close behind you but not without another glare thrown over his shoulder.
A part of you wondered why he hadn’t just gone ahead and used his quirk on them. You’d seen him do so with people that annoyed him, but as he brushed the back of his hand against your still quivering arm, you guessed it was to not upset your anxiety any further.
“You alright?” He asked after a stretch of time, walking beside you, you noticed, as opposed to slightly in front of you like earlier.
“Yeah.” You breathed, “Still a bit shaken, but I’m alright.”
He nodded, one eye glancing your way. “Don’t give those insignificant rats any satisfaction, alright? You’re fine just the way you are.”
You smiled up at him, finding yourself finally calm for once by his side. “Thank you, Tomura.”
“Don’t mention it.” He spoke, looking back in front of him as one hand lifted from his pocket. Clasped in fingers, ring and pinkie fingers extended, was the phone charm you were looking at, and you know he definitely didn’t pay for it.
You let out a small giggle as you took it from him, too caught up in the fact he stole the charm for you to see the way he smiled at your giddy expression.
(So right around where you start walking with Tomura is where I had some damn good city detailing, and then my phone decided to fucking close Tumblr on me making me lose my progress and I had gotten far enough into the fic that I couldn’t remember what exactly was written so I couldn’t rewrite it word for word and I’m so mad about it. Why can’t Tumblr do an autosave thing every minute or so??? Eh, it is what it is I guess, at least this time around I added a bit more details)
Here is a doodle i made of my oc in color quickly !
I just sped run reading you oc x Shiggy comic and shes so cute- I wanna try my hand at drawing her (if your ok with it ofcourse), and I was wondering if you have any information on her and also if you could tell me what she looks like colored ^^
Omg yes of course ! Well first she' like a huuuge simp ! She's a weeb too tbh ! Get flustered easy but is very very caring ! And even if we don't currently see it 'cause she's in her pijama she have an alt clothing style ! With color well she have red dyed hair and blue eyes, and a pale skin ! I'm so happy you fond her cute and like the story ! I would love to see the resultof your drawing ! Omg i'm so happy you asked ^^ sorry if the description is a bit short my oc is pretyy self insert aaaand yk describing soemone that is similar to you is sometime hard !
After that red-eyed Sun thing like... c'mon... we were all thinkin it
He talks a lotta shit for a guy within KISSING distance 😏
Reblogs greatly appreciated!
the new postmodern age (chapter one) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
Written for @threadbaresweater's follower milestone event, and the prompt 'a day at the beach'! Congratulations on the milestone, and thanks for giving me a chance to write this fic.
dividers by @enchanthings
Before the war, you were nothing but a common criminal, but in the world that's arisen from the ashes, you got a second chance. Five years after the final battle between the heroes and the League of Villains, you run a coffee shop in a quiet seaside town, and you're devoted to keeping your customers happy. Even customers like Shimura Tenko, who needs a second chance even more than you did -- and who's harboring a secret that could upend everything you've tried to build. Will you let the past drag both of you down? Or will you find a way, against all odds, to a new beginning? (cross-posted to Ao3)
Chapters: 1 2
Chapter 1
You believe in second chances.
Before the war, you were living on the margins, just like the rest of even the pettiest criminals were. No one would hire someone with a record, even if the record was for something nonviolent, and that meant that you were always hungry, always freezing in the winter and getting heatstroke in the summer, always one step away from doing something worse and getting put away for good. You were going nowhere fast, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get back on your feet. It was a struggle to get up in the morning.
But after the war, something changed. Not a lot, but enough, because after a heartfelt public plea from the hero who saved the day, the world decided to care a little bit about people like you. The government passed new anti-discrimination laws, including one banning hiring discrimination against people with criminal records, and for nonviolent criminals like you, they opened up an extra opportunity – a choice between job training or a startup loan for a small business, so you could pay down your fines and restitution while adding something good to society. Sure, it was all in the name of preventing new villains from being created, but you’ll take it. You took it, picked up a loan, moved out of the city to a small town on the coast, and decided to open up a coffee shop.
You’re not really sure why you picked a coffee shop. Maybe because the town you moved to didn’t have one yet, or maybe because you used to hang out in them a lot when you had nowhere else to go. And the program you’re part of worked exactly like it was supposed to. You had to hire people to help you get the building you chose up to code, and that meant you met people in your new community. You showed those people that the criminals they hated were people, too. You’ve paid most of your fines and you’re able to break even anyway, and even though there’s a sign on the door telling everyone that you’re a convicted felon and you have to answer any questions you’re asked about it, you have customers.
Not just customers – regulars. People whose kids you’ve seen grow up, people who talk to you when they see you out and about. After five years of trying, you’ve finally carved out a place where you belong. So yeah, you believe in second chances. How could you not?
You stand back from your front window, admiring the latest addition. There’s the sign identifying your business as one sponsored by the Nonviolent Criminal Reintegration Act, but just above it, you’ve added a bigger sign: Free Internet Access. Osono, whose bakery makes the pastries you sell, studies it alongside you. “Free access? Shouldn’t it be access with purchase?”
“I thought about it a lot, but no.” You’re sort of lying. You thought about it for two seconds and that was it. “This is better.”
“It’ll attract riff-raff.”
That’s the kind of comment that used to really piss you off, but you know Osono. You know it’s just a blind spot, and you know how to respond. “Most things are online these days. Job applications, apartment listings, information on government assistance. When I was in trouble before, free internet access would have helped me a lot. And I usually bought something anyway, even if it was just a cup of coffee.”
“Not a pastry?” Osono nods at the trays stacked on her cart, and you remember that she’s waiting for you to open the door. Oops. You unlock it in a hurry and prop it open with a rock you pulled up from the beach. “Where were you getting food?”
“Wherever I could.” You were hungry a lot. And sick a lot, because sometimes you had to eat things that were expired. You don’t like to think about that very much. “I stole sometimes so I wouldn’t starve. I’ve paid it all back by now.”
“You know how to take responsibility,” Osono says. She slides back the door on your pastry case without asking and starts loading things in. “I wish more of them were like you.”
“Most of us are,” you say, as gently as you can manage. “We just need a fighting chance.”
Sometimes people forget that you’re a criminal, that you’ll carry your record around for the rest of your life. You can’t let them forget. Osono nods in the way that tells you she’s humoring you and lifts a tray of pastries you haven’t seen before out of the cart. “These are a new recipe I’m trying out. What do you think?”
“They’re pretty,” you say. “Is that chocolate in the filling?”
“And cinnamon. They aren’t vegan, but there aren’t any common allergens in them.” Osono passes you the recipe anyway, and you scribble down the ingredients on the back of the name card you’re making, just in case someone asks. “Tell me how they do, all right? If they sell decently I’ll add them to my rotation.”
“Will do.” You help her with the last few trays. “Thanks, Osono. Say hi to the kids and Naoki for me?”
“Will do.” Osono wheels the cart back out the door, then pauses to study the internet access sign. “Good luck with this.”
“Thanks.”
You wait until the delivery van pulls away before you start rearranging the pastries to your preferred setup. You add “new arrival” to the label for the new pastry, then touch the lettering to turn it a pleasant but eye-catching green before placing it front and center in the case. Then you set up your espresso machine, wake up the cash register, switch on the lights and take down the chairs from the tops of the tables – and only then do you switch on the other sign in your window. It’s seven am. Skyline Coffee and Tea is open for business.
It’s grey and cold, and the low tide is closer to noon today, which means you’re in for a busy morning as the people who walk the beach daily stop in for food and coffee first. Only one person orders one of the new pastries, but almost everyone comments on the free internet access. They say the same kind of thing Osono said, and you say the same thing you said to her if they hold still long enough for you to answer. You say it nicely. It’s an effort to say it nicely, sometimes, but it’s worth doing.
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 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 and shakes his head. Then his stomach growls. 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 on each hand. “I don’t need help.”
“No, but you’re helping me out.” 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’s chocolate and cinnamon, though. It’s hard to go wrong with that. It’ll be just a second with the coffee.”
You fill a cup, then point out the cream and sugar. Then you realize you still haven’t tapped the customer’s card. You finish ringing up the order 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.
Shimura Tenko sets up shop at the booth in the farthest corner, and although you sneak by once or twice to check on him, you’re pretty sure he’s not watching porn. People don’t usually take notes when they’re watching porn. It looks like he’s working or something. Working remote, but he doesn’t have internet access at home? Or maybe he does, and he’s just looking for a change of scenery. That’s a normal thing to do. A change of scenery is one thing Skyline Coffee and Tea is equipped to provide.
Speaking of that, it’s been a while since you changed out the mural on the café’s back wall. Your quirk, Color, lets you change the color of any object you touch, and choose how long the color sets. You’ve used it for a lot of things over the years, but now you mainly use it to create new murals every few months or so. The back wall’s been a cityscape since the fall, when you saw a picture of Tokyo’s skyline at night and got inspired. Maybe this weekend you’ll switch it out for something a little softer. If people wanted the city, they’d stay there instead of coming here.
Customers come in and out, a few lingering for conversations or to test out the free WiFi, but Shimura Tenko stays put, somehow making a single cup of black coffee last until you give the fifteen-minute warning that you’re closing up shop. Another person might be pissed about someone hanging out so long without buying anything else, but you’ve been there. You let it go, except to ask him how the babka was as he’s on his way out the door. He throws the answer back over his shoulder without looking your way. “It was fine. Nothing special.”
Fine, sure. When you go back to clear his table, you find the plate it was on wiped clean. There’s not even a smear of the filling left.
“Check this place out!” Your probation officer leans across the counter, eyes bright, out of costume and way too enthusiastic for eight in the morning. “It’s looking great in here. You changed something. New color scheme? New uniform?”
“Nope.” You don’t get nervous for your check-ins, but you don’t like the fact that they’re random. Today’s not a good day. “There’s some new stuff on the menu, and in the pastry case. Maybe that’s it.”
“No,” Present Mic says, drawing out the word. He turns in a slow circle, then whips back around with a grin. “When did you repaint that wall?”
“I didn’t paint it,” you say. It’s best to be honest. “I used my quirk. I’m not making money off of it and it’s not hurting anyone, so it falls within the terms of my probation.”
“Take it easy there, listener. I’m not trying to bust you,” Present Mic says. Heroes always say that. You know better than to buy it. “It looks good. Really brightens the place up.”
“I thought it could use it,” you say. “It’s kind of a rough time of year.”
Cold weather always brings you lots of customers, but people are sharper, unhappier, and if they’re in the mood to take it out on someone, they pick somebody who can’t make a fuss or hit back. Somebody like you. You’ve learned not to take it personally. “Not too rough financially. You’ve made all your payments on time. I checked.” Present Mic is peering into the pastry case. “How’s that free internet access thing going for you?”
“Not so bad,” you say. “The connection’s pretty fast, so I get people in here who are taking online classes, or working remote. I’ve only had to kick one person out for watching porn.”
“Yeah, he filed a complaint,” Present Mic says, and your stomach drops. “You made the right call. Don’t worry.”
You’re going to worry. It’s going to take all day for that one to wear off. “I haven’t had problems with it otherwise.”
“Why’d you do it?” Present Mic gives you a curious look. “Free stuff brings all kinds of people out of the woodwork. Why give yourself the headache?”
“I want this to be the kind of place I needed,” you say. “Somewhere safe where nobody would kick me out if I couldn’t buy more than one cup of coffee, where I could use the internet without getting in trouble for it. A headache’s worth that to me.”
It’s quiet for a second, but Present Mic being Present Mic, it doesn’t last. “You really turned a corner, huh? Hard to believe you were ever on the wrong side of the law.”
“We all could be there,” you say. “It only takes one mistake.”
Present Mic sighs. “You’re telling me. Did you catch the news last week?”
“The thing with Todoroki Touya?” The surviving members of the League of Villains all went through their own rehab, and they’re on permanent probation – and last weekend, Todoroki Touya, formerly known as Dabi, lit somebody’s motorcycle on fire after they followed him for six blocks, harassing him the whole way. “I saw. Is he getting revoked?”
“Nope. The other guy was way out of line, and the panel ruled that the majority of people – former villains or not – would have reacted similarly under that kind of pressure.” Present Mic rolls his shoulders, and his leather jacket squeaks. “All I can say is, he’s lucky we’re in the business of second chances these days. Or fifth chances.”
“Why so many?” you ask. “The rest of us are on three strikes, you’re out.”
“Yeah, but you have to mess up a lot worse for it to count as a strike,” Present Mic points out. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a guilt thing. This whole rehab thing is Deku’s idea. And Deku never got over what happened with Shigaraki.”
Members of the League of Villains died leading up to the final battle, but of the five who made it that far, only one of them was dead at the end of the war – Shigaraki Tomura, their leader. To most people, it was good riddance to the greatest evil Japan has ever seen, but Deku’s always been publicly against that viewpoint. Insistent that All For One was the true villain. Regretful that the war ended with Shigaraki’s death, too. “Since he couldn’t save him, he’s stuck on saving the other four,” Present Mic continues. “Which equals infinite chances. So far Todoroki’s the only one who’s needed them.”
You nod. Present Mic stretches. “Let’s take a walk,” he decides. “I’ll buy coffee for both of us.”
“I can’t leave,” you say. “I don’t have anybody else to watch this place. If a customer comes by –”
“Half an hour, tops. Come on.” Present Mic produces a wallet from the inside of his leather jacket. “The sooner we leave, the sooner you can come back.”
You lock up, hating every second of it, and follow Present Mic into the cold, a to-go cup of your own coffee in your hands. Present Mic runs through the usual list of questions, the ones that cover your mindset as much as they cover your progress on your program requirements. Some of them are about how you’re getting along with the civilians in town, and you know he’ll be checking in with some of your customers, seeing if their perception lines up with yours. It feels invasive. Intrusive. Some part of you always pushes back. You always quiet it down. You made this bed for yourself, coming up on a decade ago. Now you have to lie in it.
“I’ve got some news,” Present Mic says, once he’s finished with the questions. “The program’s considering early release for some of the participants.”
“Why?”
“The legislative review’s coming up, and they want success stories,” Present Mic says. “You know, people who clawed their way out of the criminal underworld to become productive members of society. I’m putting your name on the list.”
You almost drop your coffee. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Mic says. He seems taken aback by your surprise. “I mean – you’re kind of who this thing was designed for, listener. You caught your first charge when you were underage, for a nonviolent crime, and the rest of your case is a perfect example of just one of the many problems Deku won’t shush about. Now look at you. You’ve got your own business, you’re paying back your debt to society, you’re participating in civilian life. There are civilians who don’t do that much.”
Of course they don’t. Actual civilians don’t have to prove they have a right to exist. “If you’re approved for early release, the government will waive interest on your startup loan, and I heard a rumor that they’re considering wiping charges off people’s records,” Mic continues. “It’s a pretty good deal, listener. And you’re making a pretty weird face.”
“Sorry,” you say, trying to fix it. “I mean – felonies are a forever thing. They don’t get wiped.”
“It’s just a rumor,” Mic says, and pats your shoulder. “Even if that doesn’t pan out, you could use a break on the interest. Anyway, it’s not a sure thing, but I put your name up. You’ve got as good a shot as anybody.”
You think that’s probably true, which is weird to think about. You’ve been behind the eight ball since you were in high school. Present Mic throws down the rest of his coffee, then turns back the way the two of you came. “Let’s go. I saw a pastry I wanted to buy, and I bet you have a customer or two.”
You’ve heard things about other program participants’ probation officers taking things without paying, but you got lucky with Present Mic – he always pays. Sometimes he even gives you a hard time for setting your prices too low. And he’s right about the customers. When you get back, one of your regulars is sitting cross-legged, leaning back against the locked door with his hood up and his laptop open.
It’s Shimura Tenko, who you never saw before you started offering free internet, and who’s turned into a regular ever since. The two of you don’t talk the way you do with some of your other regulars – something about the mask and the hood and the gloves tells you that Shimura isn’t looking to make friends. But he shows up two or three times a week, orders black coffee, and camps out in the corner of the café until closing time. Sometimes you can talk him into a pastry, and it’s always a babka. Whether he orders one or not, he’s always hungry when he comes in.
Shimura looks up as you and Present Mic approach. His eyes narrow, then widen abruptly, almost comically shocked. Then he slams his laptop shut, rockets to his feet, and books it, vanishing down the street and around the corner. You feel a surge of frustration. “Can you not scare my customers?”
“I’m out of costume. Even when I’m in, nobody’s scared of me.” Present Mic is lying. You’d have been scared out of your mind to run into him back in the day. “Damn, that guy was skittish. What’s his deal?”
“He’s one of my regulars.” Was one of your regulars, probably. People don’t react the way Shimura just did and come back for more. You unlock the door, feeling strangely dispirited. “Which pastry were you thinking about?”
Present Mic sticks around for an hour or so, long enough to talk to a few customers who don’t run away from him. Most of your regulars have seen him before. He leaves a little bit before noon, after eating three pastries he paid for, and as usual, the café quiets down in the afternoon. You don’t mind. Today wasn’t a good day even before Mic put in a surprise appearance and scared off a customer for good. Days like today, you’d rather have the place to yourself.
Sometimes in the midst of proving you’re a model citizen to anybody who looks your way, you forget that there’s a reason you weren’t. It wasn’t a good reason. Your family wasn’t rich, but you always had what you needed and some of what you wanted. Your parents weren’t perfect, but they loved you. You weren’t the most popular kid at school, but you always had someone to talk to. And none of that mattered, because you felt hollow and miserable and lonely no matter what else was going on around you.
Nothing you did or said could make you feel better. Everything felt the same, and everything felt awful, and no matter how hard you tried to explain, to ask for help, to raise the alarm, you couldn’t get your point across. You had a good life. What did you have to complain about?
The judge who handed you your first conviction said pretty much exactly that. You’ve heard that the sentencing guidelines for minors have changed, that untreated mental health issues are considered a mitigating factor these days, but back then it didn’t matter at all. You got help at some point. You take your meds like you’re supposed to, and you did therapy until you realized the people who monitor your probation were reading your notes. And you’re older now. You know the hollow feeling goes away. But that doesn’t mean it’s any easier to tolerate when it’s here.
You’re hanging out behind the counter, staring at your most recent mural and wishing you’d chosen something less cheerful than the field of wildflowers that’s currently decorating it, when the door opens. You barely have time to get your game face on before Shimura Tenko steps up to the counter. “Um –”
“How many heroes are you friends with?” Shimura asks shortly.
“I’m not friends with Present Mic,” you say. “That was a spot check. He’s my probation officer.”
Shimura blinks. He has crimson eyes and dark lashes, matching his dark hair. “Huh?”
“My probation officer,” you repeat. “I’m a convicted felon.”
“Don’t lie. They’d never let a convicted felon run a coffee shop.”
“I got a loan,” you say. “Through the Nonviolent Criminal Rehabilitation Act. It says so on the sign.”
“Your sign says free internet access.”
“Underneath that.” You wonder if it’s really possible that Shimura didn’t see the other sign. Maybe he was just too hyped at the prospect of free internet to look any harder. “How long have you lived here?”
“Five years.” Shimura looks defensive now. “What’s it to you?”
Five years, and you never saw him before today. He must keep to himself. “Nothing. I just – I thought everybody around here knew. I’m not very quiet about it. I’m not allowed to be.”
“Why not?”
You don’t want to do this right now, but rules are rules. “Part of the Reintegration Act involves educating civilians about where criminals come from – like, how a person goes from you to me.”
Shimura snorts. It’s rude, but not anywhere close to the rudest thing someone’s done to you when you talk about this. “The government thinks the people who are best equipped to educate about this are the actual criminals, so I’m legally obligated to answer any questions people ask me – about my record, about why I did it, about the program and why I’m doing that. So they understand what’s happening and why it’s happening. For transparency.”
“And that means anybody can question you, any time,” Shimura says, eyes narrowing.
“Yep. Stop, drop, and educate.” You wait, but he’s quiet, and you’re tired enough and hollow enough that the suspense gets to you first. “You can ask what I did. I have to tell you.”
Shimura nods – but then he doesn’t ask. About that, at least. “It’s dead in here. Did Present Mic clear everybody else out?”
“No. It gets quiet on sunny days when the tide’s low.” You nod through the window, and the sliver of beach visible between the buildings across the street. “I was thinking about closing early.”
“Why?” Shimura’s voice holds the faintest shadow of a sneer. “To walk on the beach?”
To lay facedown on your bed and wait for tears that won’t come, and won’t make you feel any better if they do. “Now you’re here, so I’m open. Do you want the usual?”
Shimura hesitates. Then he shakes his head. “Go home.”
“I’m open,” you repeat. You don’t want him to complain to Present Mic like the actual porn guy did. “Do you want the usual or do you feel like something new?”
“The usual.”
“Come on,” you say. He glares at you over his mask. There’s an old scar over his right eye. “There’s nobody here. Nobody’s going to catch you drinking something that actually tastes good.”
“The usual,” Shimura Tenko says, and crosses his arms over his chest. “And –”
He glances at the pastry case, and you see his expression shift into disappointment. It makes you sadder than it should, but you can fix it easily. You slide the babka you saved on the faint hope that he’d come back out of hiding and into full view. “One of these?”
Shimura stares at it for a full fifteen seconds before he looks up at you. “You saved it for me.”
“Yeah.” You pride yourself on knowing what your regulars like. You don’t want someone you see a few times a week to leave unsatisfied. “One babka and one black coffee, coming up.”
Shimura holds out his card, then hesitates. You’ve never seen him look uncertain at all. “And whatever you think tastes better than black coffee. One of those.”
“Really?” You can’t hide your surprise, or what an unexpected lift it is for your mood. “You won’t regret it. Which flavors do you like?”
“I don’t care.” Shimura waits while you swipe his card, then tucks it away. “This was your idea. I’m going – over there.”
He gestures at the back corner. “I know where you like to sit,” you say. “I’ll bring it out.”
As soon as he leaves, you get to work. You need to nail this. He’ll laugh at you if you bring him a tea latte, so it needs to have an espresso base. What goes well with babka? You already have chocolate and cinnamon on board – what about caramel, or hazelnut? Does he even like sweet things? He must, if he keeps ordering the damn babka. Maybe hazelnut, but what if he’s allergic? You pitch your voice to carry and see him startle. “Do you have any allergies?”
“Not to food.”
You wonder what he’s actually allergic to as you start pulling espresso shots for a chocolate hazelnut mocha. You really hope Shimura likes Nutella, because that’s exactly what this is going to taste like. Using bittersweet chocolate syrup instead of milk chocolate fixes it partway, but when you pour off a tiny bit to try it, it still tastes a lot like something you’d eat out of a jar with a spoon.
Whatever. You’re committed now. You don’t have a choice. You pour it into a cup, make some vague gesture at foam art, and carry it and the black coffee through the empty café to Shimura’s table. “One black coffee and one drink that actually tastes good.”
Shimura eyes the second cup. “What’s in there?”
“You said you didn’t care.”
“Yeah, well, now that I know you’ve done time I’m not sure I can trust you,” Shimura says, and you lock your expression down. That one hurt. A lot. He drags the cup towards himself with his right hand and lifts it to his mouth as he pulls down his mask with his left, but you’ve lost interest in the outcome. You turn and head back to the counter, trying not to feel like someone’s slapped you in the face and convincing yourself at least a little that it works.
You screw around behind the counter, taking inventory and counting down the minutes until last call, but Shimura’s back at the counter with forty-five minutes to go, an empty cup in his hand. It’s not the cup you put the black coffee in. “Fine. You win. I want another one of these.”
“Yep.” You set your clipboard aside and head back to the cash register to ring him up. “For here or to go?”
“Here.”
“I’m closing soon. To-go’s probably better.”
“Are you kicking me out?” Shimura asks. You look up at him, make eye contact, and whatever he sees in your face sets him off. Not in the way you thought it would. “Before, about the doing time thing. You know I was kidding, right?”
“Sure you were. Do you want a receipt?”
“Hey,” Shimura snaps. “It was a joke.”
“Not a good one.”
“Yeah, it was. If you –” Shimura breaks off, his scowl clear even from behind the mask. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I wouldn’t have said that if I didn’t get it.”
“Get it,” you repeat. “You’ve done time?”
“Yeah.” Shimura Tenko covers the back of his neck with one hand. “No charges, but – yeah, I did time. So it’s funny.”
“It’s still not funny.” You lift the empty cup out of Shimura’s hands and turn to start making a second Nutella-esque mocha, trying to decide if you feel better or not. “It’s just not mean.”
A shadow falls across you as you work. Shimura’s following you along the edge of the counter. “So am I getting kicked out or what?”
“Yes,” you say. “In forty-five minutes, when I close.”
Shimura’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly at the corners. You wonder what his smile looks like under that mask, but you’ve got espresso shots to pull, and you need to focus if you don’t want to burn your hand. You look away, and when you look back again, he’s at his table, laptop open, mask on, chin propped in his gloved hand. No charges, but he’s done time. You didn’t expect that. Even though you’ve spent the last five years of your life trying to prove that you’re no different than anybody else, it still catches you by surprise to learn that one of your customers is like you.
You bring the second drink by his table, then start working through your closing checklist. He stands up with five minutes to go, just like clockwork. He leaves without another word, as usual, but when you step outside, he’s still standing there. “You didn’t ask why.”
Why he did time? “Neither did you,” you say.
“Yeah, but I won’t break probation if I don’t answer.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” you say. It’s not quite dark, but the sun’s almost down, and the shadows are growing long. Late March already, but it feels like you’ve got a long way to go before spring. “If I want people who meet me to look at the person I am now, I have to do the same thing for them.”
Shimura Tenko makes a sound, half-laughter and half-scoffing. “They sure did a number on you,” he says. You turn and walk away, and his footsteps follow yours. “Hey. Come on. There’s no way you’re that sensitive.”
“I’m not,” you say. “I’m just having a bad day.”
A bad day, and you never get a day off. Even if the café’s not open, you’re still in sunshine mode every second, making sure that the people who want to treat you like a criminal look absolutely insane for doing it. You fought hard for this life. You’re glad you fought for it. And today more than usual, you’re just really tired. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Yeah,” Shimura says. You’re glad he doesn’t try to apologize again. You know it would be painfully insincere. “How did you know?”
“Hmm?”
“The pastry. How did you know I’d come back?”
“I didn’t,” you say. “I just hoped you would.”
You don’t know why you hoped. Maybe because he’d clearly been waiting a while when you and Present Mic got back. Maybe because you remember how much it mattered to have somewhere else to go, whether you had a place of your own or not. Maybe because you’ve gotten sort of a sense of him over the past few months, and you know he’s the kind of person who pretends not to want the things he wants. Wanting the coffee shop he hangs out in to be open and to have his favorite pastry available is such a reasonable thing to want. You were hoping he’d come back so you could give it to him.
Shimura doesn’t say anything. You keep walking, and he doesn’t follow you. When you glance back over your shoulder as you round the corner, you see him standing just outside of Skyline Coffee and Tea, staring intently at something. You can’t say for sure. But you’re pretty sure it’s the sign that explains about the NCRA.
A while back, you read that some countries set aside two days to commemorate a war. One day to celebrate that it ended, another to mourn that it happened at all. When it comes to the war you lived through, Japan does things differently. There’s just one day, a national holiday, where every government office closes and most businesses do, too. For most people, it’s a day to celebrate. There are carnivals, street fairs, concerts, parties. It’s been a holiday for exactly four years and a whole host of traditions have already sprung up around it.
But there’s one person who never celebrates, and it didn’t take you long to come around to his way of thinking. On April 4th, the fifth annual Day of Peace, you close the café early and make the trek to Kamino Ward.
You’re not sure how Kamino Ward became the place. Maybe because the final battlefield’s been overtaken by celebrations, and at least some people still see Kamino as hallowed ground. The place where the Symbol of Peace made his last stand. The place where the Symbol of Fear passed the torch onto his successor. You get there a little while before sunset, and you join the hundreds of people who’ve already gathered there. The crowd looks smaller than it did last year, and it hasn’t grown much by the time Midoriya Izuku, known to the world as Deku, climbs onto the steps leading up to the All Might statue’s plinth.
Someone hands him a microphone, which he takes with hands that tremble ever so slightly. He’s only twenty-one, and he looks old before his time. “I’m here,” he starts, then swallows hard. “I’m here because we didn’t win. Not really. If you’re here instead of at a party somewhere, I think it’s probably because you lost something. Something, or someone, who was important to you. Something you can’t get back.”
It’s quiet. It’s always quiet after he says something like that. “I’d like to think we did something. That we changed for the better,” Deku continues, “but I think we can only say that if we don’t forget what we had to lose for it to happen. So, um – you know the drill. If you brought a candle, great. If you didn’t, we have some. You can say the thing you lost if you want – we have a microphone – but when you’re done, light the candle and put it down somewhere that feels right to you.”
He takes a deep breath, lets it go. “And then you can go. But I’ll stay until they all burn out.”
People swarmed the first two years. This year they form a line, stepping up to light their candles one by one. You never know what to say when it’s your turn, because it’s not something specific you miss. The way things used to be was awful. You don’t miss that, and you weren’t close enough to anybody to lose someone who mattered in the war. But April 4th has never felt like a happy day. It feels wrong to you to be setting off fireworks and throwing parties in response to a war that almost destroyed the world.
A lot of people say names when it’s their turn to light a candle. Some say places. Some share an ideal they lost, a hero they venerated who fell from their pedestal, a dream they had that will never come true. Each lost thing named is met with respectful silence. But just like last year and the year before, there are three names that aren’t, no matter who says them. “Big Sis Magne. Bubaigawara Jin,” says Toga Himiko as she lights her candle. Say Todoroki Touya and Sako Atsuhiro and Iguchi Shuichi, who still answers to Spinner, as they light theirs. “Shigaraki Tomura.”
There’s always whispering after their names, especially Shigaraki’s. But Deku always goes last, and Deku always shuts them up. He lights his candle and grasps the microphone, speaking clearly, firmly. “Shigaraki Tomura.”
You remember what Present Mic said, about how Deku never got over failing to save Shigaraki. Deku was sixteen when he won the war. Still a kid. Was saving Shigaraki really his job? Maybe that’s the point of all this. It was everyone’s job to stop villains like Shigaraki from being created, and you all failed, so it fell to Deku – and he failed, too. It’s one big, sad, ugly mess. When you’re honest with yourself, you’re not surprised that most people try to cover it up with fireworks.
People begin to filter out of the memorial park, and you find a place to sit down. It’s not like you have somewhere else to go. The others who say settle in as well, in small groups amidst the rows and clusters of candles. You’re within earshot of one of the groups. Without meaning to, you find yourself listening in.
“They’d have hated this,” Todoroki Touya is saying, his voice low and bitter. “Every second of it.”
“Big Sis Magne wouldn’t have. And Twice would have liked it,” Toga Himiko says. Her voice is soft. “All the candles. He’d say it’s like his birthday.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Todoroki Touya’s voice goes even quieter. “Do any of us know when his birthday was?”
It’s quiet. “Shigaraki would hate this,” Todoroki states. “You know he would. What did he tell you to tell Spinner, Deku?”
Deku doesn’t answer. Spinner does. “Shigaraki Tomura fought to destroy until the very end.”
“Yeah,” Todoroki says. “To destroy. And Deku made him a martyr.”
“He destroyed a lot of things,” Deku says quietly. “All For One is gone. One For All, too – there’s never going to be another Symbol of Peace. He destroyed the way we saw villains. We don’t just get to look at what they’re doing right now. We have to think about how they got there. And he destroyed how we saw ourselves.”
“Yeah?” Spinner says. “How?”
“We didn’t think we were responsible for other people,” Deku says. “Now we have to be.”
It’s quiet again. This time it’s quiet for a while. “Whatever,” Todoroki says. “I’m going home. See you all at the next sobfest.”
“He always says that,” Spinner says, once his footsteps have faded. “He’s gonna get tanked at home and text us just like he did last year.”
“I miss Tomura-kun,” Toga says, her voice softer than before. “I thought we’d all be together at the end.”
“I know,” Deku says. “I’m sorry.”
“And you’re sure –” Spinner breaks off. “You’re sure you couldn’t get his ashes or something? So we could –”
“There was nothing left of Shigaraki,” Deku says. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” Spinner says. Toga sniffles. “We know.”
The group splits, Toga in one direction, Spinner in the other. A moment later, Deku walks past you, and you do everything you can to fade into the background short of turning yourself camo-colored. It doesn’t work. “Did you hear all that?” Deku asks. You nod. He sighs, or sniffles, maybe. He looks younger up close. “You were here last year, right?”
“And the year before,” you say. The longer you look at him, the worse shape he’s in. “Um, are you okay?”
“It’s just –” Deku’s eyes well up, suddenly. “It’s hard. I can’t say what I want to say to them.”
“Why not?” you ask stupidly, and he shakes his head. “Um – do you want to sit down?”
You wouldn’t ask another hero that, but you feel like it’s worth the risk. Even though he’s twenty-one, you can’t look at him and see anything other than a kid, and it feels wrong to let a kid stand there and cry. Deku sits down next to you. “I know I’m not supposed to ask,” he starts, his voice watery, “but you never say anything when it’s your turn. Most people don’t come here. Even the ones who lost somebody would rather be at a party somewhere. Why do you come back?”
You have to think about it for a second. Deku cringes. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer.”
“I sort of do.” It might hit your probation requirements, and even if it doesn’t, you should explain anyway. “What you said earlier, in your speech – I’m one of the people the world got better for. My life would have been awful if it had stayed the same. But in order for me to have this life, we had to have the war.”
“What did you do during the war? Were you in a shelter?”
You shake your head. “The shelters banned people with criminal records,” you say. Deku’s eyes widen. “Nowhere would let me in.”
It wasn’t all that different from the way you were living before – not much food, not very safe. The only difference was a sharp increase in the number of abandoned buildings for you to crash in. But it looks like you’re making Deku feel worse, not better, and you scramble into part two of your explanation. “I’m one of the NCRA participants. That program only exists because of the war – and you, because you won’t let people forget why the war happened. So I want to remember why the war happened, too. And I want to honor it. Them.”
“Him,” Deku corrects, and your stomach clenches. “I wonder what he thinks of all of this. If it’s enough. If it’ll ever be enough. I mean, obviously it’ll never be enough for him, because he doesn’t – I mean, I can’t ask him, but I know he can see it. I don’t know where he is, but if I could just ask him –”
You didn’t realize Deku believed this strongly in the afterlife. You sit quietly, and after a few seconds, he remembers you’re there. He glances at you, embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you say. “Do you not get to talk about it very much?”
“No,” Deku admits. “People want to move on. And I don’t really blame them. But I can’t. Not until I know for sure.”
It’s quiet for a little bit. He wipes his eyes. You watch the candles flicker down a few millimeters more. “You’re in the NCRA,” Deku says finally. “For job training, or did you get a loan?”
“I got a loan,” you say. “I run a coffee shop now. With free WiFi.”
“Do people like it?”
“I think so,” you say. You think of the kids who come to study, the people who use the WiFi for remote work, the old people who walk the beach every morning and stop by for coffee and pastry afterwards. “I have regulars, anyway. And people talk to me now. They never used to.”
“People talk to me now, too,” Deku says. “It’s nice.”
“Yeah,” you agree. “It is.”
It is, but it’s not quite what you meant, and you don’t want to interrupt when Deku starts talking about the NCRA. It’s not just that people talk to you. They talked to you before, but now they see you – not as a criminal, but as a person like them, minus the squeaky-clean record. That’s new, and that’s good. You know even less about Shigaraki Tomura than Deku does, but even if he’d hate what’s happened to the world he wanted to destroy, you’re thankful anyway. The world is better now. It’s better because of Deku, and Deku’s the way he is because of Shigaraki.
There are fireworks going off over the bay, distant enough that you can’t hear the sound. Closer than that, you hear music and laughter from a street party you passed on your way here from the train station. Deku trails off after a while, and you don’t speak up again. The two of you sit in silence until the last of the candles burns away.
You get home late, and it’s an early morning opening up the café. Luckily for you, everybody else is also running late courtesy of the holiday yesterday. Osono comes by fifteen minutes off-schedule and full of apologies, and while you’ve got your doors open by seven, it’s not until seven-fifty-eight that your first customers come through the door. It’s a double shot of espresso kind of day, and while you’re pulling them, your customers tell you about the parties they went to last night. When they ask what you did, you tell them you went into the city. It’s not a lie.
After the slow start, the shop stays quieter than usual, quiet enough that when Shimura Tenko rolls up just past noon, there’s still plenty of babka left in the pastry case. You start his order before he’s even opened the door – one black coffee, one Nutella-flavored nightmare – and he stops to drop off his stuff at his usual table before he comes up to the counter. You can tell he’s disquieted by something. “Did Present Mic come by and scare everybody off again? How are you going to keep this place open if no one’s here?”
“Mornings are a lot busier than afternoons,” you say. “And spring’s my quietest season, anyway. No tourists like there are in the summer, and it’s not very cold.”
“Yeah.” Shimura glances around, still displeased. “This place had better stay open.”
“It will,” you say. “One shot of espresso or two?”
“Three.”
“Three? It’s your funeral,” you say, but you pull the extra shot. “Late night last night?”
“I went to a party,” Shimura says. You nod. “It was my birthday.”
“Happy birthday.” You cancel half his order. You give people a free drink on their birthday, if you know it and they come in. “Your birthday is April 4th? That’s a tough draw, especially the last few years.”
“You’re telling me.” Instead of retreating to his table like usual, Shimura hovers at the bar. “What about you? Did you go to a party?”
You shake your head. “I went into the city.”
“Which city?”
“Yokohama,” you admit. Shimura’s eyes narrow. “I go to the vigil at Kamino. I have every year they’ve done it.”
“Really,” Shimura says, skeptical. “Why?”
Deku asked you the same question. You have a feeling Shimura won’t like the answer, but it’s the only one you have. “My life is better than it was before the war, because of what happened in the war. I want to be thankful for that. It doesn’t feel right to me to go to a carnival.”
Shimura doesn’t say anything, just watches you. It makes you feel weird. “If I’d known it was your birthday, though, I’d have gone to a party for that. It was your birthday way before it was the Day of Peace.” You’re babbling, and Shimura still hasn’t said a word. “Not that you’d invite me to your birthday party or anything.”
“I didn’t know you’d want to go,” Shimura says slowly. The espresso machine beeps, and you focus on it way harder than you’d do under ordinary circumstances. “Look, I – it wasn’t my party. Just a party. It’s not like I went in a fucking birthday hat.”
“That would look pretty weird with your hood still up,” you say. Shimura makes an odd sound. You look up and see the corners of his eyes crinkling again. “Still, though. I’ll remember for next year. I’ll get a cupcake or something. Even if you don’t want somebody who’s done time at your birthday party.”
Shimura laughs at that. Actually laughs. Your chest constricts, filling with warmth in a way that feels out of proportion to the situation at hand. “I only want people who’ve done time at my birthday party,” he says. “Don’t try to give me that drink for free. You letting this place go under would be a shitty birthday present.”
“Too late. It’s already free and I’m not rerunning the sale.” You pour the black coffee and set it down on the pickup counter, followed by the godawful Nutella drink. “Happy birthday plus one.”
Shimura rolls his eyes, but they’re still crinkled slightly at the corners. He doesn’t respond until he’s already halfway back to the table, and he’s so quiet that you have to strain your ears to hear. “Thanks.”
You should say something. Something like “you’re welcome”, or “any time”. Something that sounds like good customer service, instead of what you’re worried will come out of your mouth if you open it right now. The conversation is over. Nothing else needs to be said. You turn to face your small workspace, searching for a distraction. There has to be something you can clean.
It’s been so long since you had a crush that you barely remember what it’s like, but you’re pretty sure you have a crush on Shimura. As far as crushes go, he’s kind of a weird pick – because he’s a customer, because he’s not the friendliest, because he hasn’t given any indication that he likes you at all. He likes babka and free internet and the horrible off-menu mocha you make just for him. That’s it.
It feels weird to have a crush. Weird in how normal of a thing it is to do, when you’ve been so focused on looking normal and pretending to be normal that you haven’t done anything actually normal in a while. But maybe this is a good thing, and maybe it’s okay. You might get released early from your NCRA requirements, and even if you don’t, you’re doing well. You can afford to like somebody again.
The café stays quiet, and with two hours left before closing time, you’re getting bored. Bored, and you haven’t switched out the mural since before your last check-in with Present Mic. Now’s an okay time for that. You scribble a sign to prop up on the counter – I’m here, just yell – and head towards the back wall. You have to pass Shimura to get there, and as you do, he looks up. “I’m not looking,” you say. “I’ll just be over here.”
“Doing what?”
“A new mural,” you say. “Pretend I’m not here.”
Shimura decides to start right away, and you flex your fingers more out of habit than anything else. Then you set your hand on the wall and activate your quirk, changing the entire wall from the wildflower mural back to the same blank neutral as the others. That’s a good start. Now you just need to figure out what you’re going to do with it.
Actual muralists sketch and line their work. They work from references and they draft the design before they actually start painting. You know that because you used to want to be a muralist yourself. You could sketch and line things, but these days you’re more about feelings than anything else, and feelings take color. You block the wall into a few sections – you remember to do that, at least – and fill in general colors, running your fingers along the edges to blur them together. Grey base and sides. Dark-colored middle. The entire upper half of the wall is light. It’s not until you’ve added the half-circle above the horizon that you get a real understanding of what you’re making.
It's another cityscape, or the ruins of one, something you saw in photos or maybe in person. It looks a lot like the sunrise view from Kamino Ward, the sky on fire with deep purple and orange and pink and gold, the reflection of those colors splashed across the sea, the wreckage of the city bathed in morning light. You’ve done enough therapy to psychoanalyze yourself, and it’s not hard to see what you were going for with this. Things are horrible. Things were horrible for a long time before today, but the sun is still rising, and the sunrise is still beautiful. And it’s a lot easier to see now, with all the other stuff out of the way.
“That’s not paint.”
You weren’t expecting Shimura to say anything, and you weren’t expecting him to pay attention to what you’re doing. But when you look back over your shoulder, you see him staring, his phone set aside, the lid of his laptop shut. “It’s not paint,” you say. “Just my quirk.”
“How does it work?” Shimura asks. You turn back to your mural, and you hear him get to his feet. A moment later he’s standing beside you, answering his own question. “You can change the color of things you touch. And decide how long it stays that way.”
“Yeah.” After using it your whole life, you’re pretty good at it. You can fine-tune stuff, enough to add shading to the buildings and the rubble at the sides and bottom of the mural without compromising the light from the sunrise. “Not a very powerful quirk.”
“You could still cause trouble,” Shimura says. You could. And you did. “This is how you got your charges, isn’t it? Stuff like this.”
“Graffiti? Yeah,” you say. You remember the rush you got the first time you tagged something, the first time you spilled your thoughts and feelings in a way no one could ignore. “Except when you do that, you get charged with trespassing and vandalism, and when they figure out they can’t remove it, you get charged with destruction of property. Throw in malicious unlicensed quirk usage and – boom. Felonies.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Me or them?”
“Giving somebody a felony for painting stuff on walls.” Shimura studies what you’ve done so far. “All of these have been yours, right? Is this the same stuff you were painting before?”
“Not always,” you say. This conversation falls under your NCRA obligations, but it doesn’t feel like it’s the reason Shimura’s asking – and it’s not the reason you’re telling him. “When I first got into it, it was just words or sentences. Stuff I couldn’t figure out how to say out loud. The first time I really got busted, it was for tagging the side of my parents’ house.”
“Your parents called the cops on you?”
“And pressed charges,” you say. He’s staring at you again. You pretend you don’t notice and fuss over the shoreline in the mural. “I got better at it when I was older. The art got better, anyway. But I got in more trouble because of where I put it. And I guess what was in it.”
“Anything I’d have seen?”
“I don’t know. Where did you hang around?” you ask. You got booked in most of the big cities in Japan during your criminal career. “Uh, I did the UA barrier. The one with the – you know.”
“The human shields?” Shimura bursts out laughing. “Did you have a sibling in Eraserhead’s class or something?”
“No, I just thought it was stupid to do the Sports Festival a week after what happened,” you say. Shimura snickers. “It felt like they were using the kids as props to distract from how much of a mistake they’d made, and I was mad about a lot of other stuff, too, and – yeah. I kind of went off.”
You really went off. There’s no other way to describe triggering the UA barrier on purpose at two am so you could make a crude mural of All Might, Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist hiding behind a bunch of kids in school uniforms. Shimura is still snickering. “Damn. I’m surprised they call you nonviolent with how bad you hurt their feelings.”
“They had to replace the whole barrier,” you say, and Shimura wheezes. “I’m not trying to be funny.”
“No, but it is funny.” Shimura glances at you over the edge of his mask. “And now you run a coffee shop and make things like this.”
He looks away from you, back to the mural. “Is this something real? It looks familiar,” he says. Before you can answer, his eyes widen, and he says it himself. “Kamino Ward. Why would you paint it like that?”
“It’s how I see it in my head. Or how I feel it. I don’t really know.” You reach out and use the tip of your index finger to highlight one of the buildings that’s still standing in sunrise gold. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” Shimura reaches out and touches it with one gloved hand. “People are going to be pissed at you.”
“If they recognize it.” You’re not too worried. “Most people just look at the colors.”
“I recognized it.”
“You’re not most people.”
You instantly wish you hadn’t said a word. Shimura Tenko glances at you quickly, then looks back to the mural. “Yeah,” he says. “I was there.”
Your stomach drops. “You were?” you repeat hopelessly, and he nods without looking your way. “I’m sorry. It’s – insensitive. I’ll take it down –”
“No.” Shimura catches your wrist before you can make contact with the mural. “Leave it. I was gone for this part. It’s a nice view. The horizon, I mean.”
That’s your favorite part, and you’re not even done with it yet. “I still have some stuff to add,” you say. Shimura nods but doesn’t let go of your wrist. You pull at it slightly. “I need this back.”
“Fuck. Sorry.” Shimura recoils like you’ve burned him, then backs away. Way too far away. You’d say he was making fun of you, except you can see his eyes over the mask, and they’re expressive in spite of his complete lack of eyebrows. “Sorry. I don’t usually – touch people.”
“It’s okay.” Your wrist feels tingly where his hand made contact, and there are butterflies in your stomach. He doesn’t usually touch people, but he touched you. “Thanks for stopping me.”
Shimura turns away completely. “I have to work.”
“Yeah. I didn’t mean to distract you.”
“I know.” Shimura slides back into his booth. You turn back to put the finishing touches on your mural.
He’s right about it. In the hour left before you close, at least one customer who trickles in gives you a hard time for putting up something so upsetting. You listen to his concerns, but you stick to your guns, and when he sits down to wait for his order, you see him watching it. Just like Shimura is, the screen of his laptop long since gone dark.
i think (if i’m not mistaken) shigaraki is the only one in the game who had 2 suggestive lines and you’re telling me this guy doesn’t watch porn?
-
gl00mster liked this · 2 weeks ago -
era-etra liked this · 2 months ago -
anniecool liked this · 3 months ago -
deadhands69 liked this · 3 months ago -
sh1ggyluvrr liked this · 3 months ago -
kkamrynl liked this · 4 months ago -
jjksimp3579 liked this · 6 months ago -
lilimalia liked this · 8 months ago -
bithepowerofgay liked this · 9 months ago -
queef-cake liked this · 9 months ago -
r0seandth0rns liked this · 10 months ago -
lo1itado11 liked this · 1 year ago -
crystls-blog liked this · 1 year ago -
eightballeyes liked this · 1 year ago -
screechingchildren liked this · 1 year ago -
evil-weevil-wizard liked this · 1 year ago -
handumb liked this · 1 year ago -
fairyvibez liked this · 1 year ago -
peach-mochi123 liked this · 1 year ago -
shigadabi-simp06 liked this · 1 year ago -
librarybunny13 reblogged this · 1 year ago -
librarybunny13 liked this · 1 year ago
-
obsessedtomone liked this · 1 year ago -
la-fin-est-pres liked this · 1 year ago -
bloodycoat liked this · 1 year ago -
whoscasey liked this · 1 year ago -
lovemelovemeppl liked this · 1 year ago -
rekoii liked this · 1 year ago -
decayedtouch liked this · 1 year ago -
sophsiaaa reblogged this · 1 year ago -
sophsiaaa liked this · 1 year ago
-
hana-patata liked this · 1 year ago -
venusodeya liked this · 1 year ago -
dkdoobles reblogged this · 1 year ago -
dkdoobles liked this · 1 year ago
-
flamme-shigaraki-spithoe reblogged this · 1 year ago -
flamme-shigaraki-spithoe liked this · 1 year ago
-
phantombstone liked this · 1 year ago -
scary-grace reblogged this · 1 year ago -
scary-grace reblogged this · 1 year ago
18+, minor don't interact with the 18+ contentTomura shigaraki's biggest simpArtist, writter
479 posts