I Neeed It ! Whereeee ? Please Tell Us !

Enough to Go By (Chapter 2) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

When the ER doctors ask you how you got hurt, you lie. You know you shouldn’t lie, know that Tenko’s dangerous, know that his quirk, whatever it is, is deadly on contact. Some part of you thinks you should be scared of the possibility that Tenko will come back to finish the job. But at the same time, you know you’re the one who chased him. You’re the one who wouldn’t let him go. If you hadn’t run after him, none of this would have happened.

This, it turns out, is a wrist that requires a specialized healing quirk to fix, and a bruised larynx that makes you sound like you’ve been deepthroating a lead pipe. “Whoever you’re protecting, you shouldn’t,” an old, sort of grizzled nurse says severely after the fifth time you’ve repeated your lie. “Another few pounds of pressure on your throat and you’d be dead.”

Tenko was fine with killing you, at least at first. You’re not sure what changed his mind, or why he let you go, and in spite of the fact that he gave you injuries severe enough for an overnight in the ER, you can’t help wondering what happened to him. The friend you knew was nothing like that. He got frustrated sometimes, like everyone else, but he was kind. And hurting people? He wouldn’t. His older sister did more playground fighting than he did. In fact, when you think about it – you close your eyes against the fluorescent lights in your hospital room and try to fend off the memory. You can’t quite do it, because it’s crystal clear. Tenko spent more time getting hurt than doing the hurting.

If Tenko and Hana got out the door first on school days, they’d wait outside your house on the sidewalk for you to come out, so you could all walk to school together. If you were ready first, you’d wait for them. One morning you were waiting, tapping your feet, fiddling with your umbrella because the weather looked like rain even if the forecast didn’t say so, when you heard voices. One raised grown-up voice and one small anxious one, from inside the house.

You didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you didn’t know how not to. Hana had a cold, so she was staying home. Tenko had wanted to say goodbye to her before he left, but their dad said no, and when Tenko stuck his head in the door anyway, his dad yelled. And was still yelling, over whatever Tenko was trying to say, until Tenko stumbled out onto the sidewalk, without a raincoat or an umbrella and scratching the skin around his eyes.

Or wiping his eyes, maybe. He started scrubbing at them frantically when he saw you. “Don’t look –”

You turned around, and as you did, you felt the first drops of rain. “Are you okay?”

“Hana’s sick.” Tenko sniffled. “I went in her room when I wasn’t supposed to.”

I heard, you almost said. But you didn’t. You just asked again. “Are you okay?”

“We have to walk or we’ll be late.” Tenko started walking, past you, and you followed him. The rain was falling harder, spattering Tenko’s shirt and his backpack. “It wasn’t supposed to rain.”

“Here.” You put up your umbrella and hurried to catch him, holding it over both your heads. You didn’t have a choice but to look at him now, and you saw how puffy his eyes were. “I bet Hana was happy.”

Tenko nodded. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand and sniffled again, and when his hand fell back to his side, it brushed against yours. Tenko cringed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said. You linked your pinky finger with his. “I swear.”

Tenko’s finger hooked tighter around yours. “Only since you swore.”

He had a cold the next day, and so did you. You cried until your mom went over to his house to apologize for you getting Tenko and Hana sick. So this isn’t the first time you’ve lied to protect Tenko. It might just be the first time you’re getting away with it.

You’re out of the ER at eight in the morning, and by nine-thirty you’re at work. You’re a medical assistant in a network of urgent care clinics that serve low-income people, uninsured people, or people who don’t want to risk going to a standard hospital. Your friends call your workplace Villains, Inc., and you’re not going to say you haven’t met your share – but you also meet a lot of people, and you think it’s good for you. Sometimes it feels like there are two Japans, sharing space in the same territory. One full of pretty, shiny heroes and happy, law-abiding civilians and uncomplicatedly evil villains, where everybody has a quirk and everybody’s always doing their best. And then there’s the other Japan, populated by everybody who doesn’t belong in the first one.

They say one in five people are quirkless, but you see at least fifty people a day at work, and the number of quirkless people on your side of Japan is a lot higher. Quirkless children have the school system to nominally protect them, but there’s no such system for quirkless adults. A lot of them are pushed to the margins, losing jobs to those with quirks, even if their quirk is useless for the jobs in question. Even when quirkless people can get work, it’s at a lower level than a quirked person could get. Your applications to nursing school were rejected, even though your grades matched the standard. You’re lucky that you’d already found an apprenticeship, in a workplace willing to sponsor your education and train you on the job.

You’ve been working here for two years, part-time as an apprentice and CNA in high school and full-time since you graduated. You’re a medical assistant now, which means you can do a whole bunch of things – take history, check vitals, draw blood, give vaccines. You have a specific exam room you work out of, and the newest workers, the ones still in high school, bring patients from the waiting room to you. From there, you figure out where to route them. To an exam room with a nurse or a physician, to the lab for blood tests, to Imaging, to the ER if their injuries or illness are too severe to be treated here. You’ve only had to route somebody to the morgue once.

You’ve just delivered your most recent patient to an exam room with a doctor, and you’re in the process of documenting it in the chart when a message pops up from one of your coworkers at the front desk. FOF. Can you handle it?

FOF – freak out front. You don’t love that acronym. How F are we talking?

Creepy-looking + mean. The new kid messed up, but not that bad.

You’re not in the mood for difficult patients today. Your throat is sore and your wrist is itching and the turtleneck you’re wearing to cover the bruises on your neck is a little too tight. But you’re the most senior medical assistant working today, and even if you weren’t, dealing with difficult people is sort of your specialty. You did a great job last night right up until you decided to chase after Tenko.

Nobody’s perfect, and you learned your lesson, didn’t you? You sigh, wincing at how it feels, and respond. Send them over.

You go back to your chart, trying desperately to finish it before the new patient arrives, and you’re just about to send it to your supervisor when the CNA knocks on the door. “Come in!”

The door opens and the patient steps through, shutting it behind them. “Just a second,” you say, deciding you’re going to finish your documentation if it kills you. “You can have a seat and I’ll be with you as soon as I just –”

“Your voice sounds weird.”

You almost choke on your own spit. You look up from your computer and find Tenko staring at you from across the exam room.

Between the fluorescent lights of the convenience stores and the shadowy darkness of the street, your encounter with Tenko last night had the sense of a fever dream or an acid trip – shiny around the edges, not quite real. Seeing him in broad daylight in your dingy exam room is unnerving beyond words. He looks even more like your best friend than he did before, but there are more differences, too – a scar over Tenko’s mouth, another scar over his right eye. Whatever skin condition he had around his eyes as a child, it’s gotten worse, so much worse that it’s obliterated his eyebrows and spread to his forehead. He’s wearing a black hoodie, maybe the same hoodie he was wearing last night. And he’s staring at you.

You thought there was no way he’d come back to finish the job. You thought you were safe. You thought wrong. Your voice comes out in an airless whisper, like you’re still sprawled on the concrete with his arm across your throat. “What are you doing here?”

“It says outside you have to treat everybody. Is that true?” Tenko’s voice is abrupt, bordering on rude, and he doesn’t wait for an answer. “Your voice sounds weird. And that shirt is stupid. You wouldn’t sound so weird if the collar wasn’t –”

He’s reaching towards you, and you’re frozen, even as your mind screams at you to get out of the way. Tenko’s index finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck and pulls it down. His eyes narrow at first, turning his expression sharp and mean. Then they widen once more, past where they were before, until he looks more like the Tenko you knew than you’ve seen yet. “Who did that?”

You don’t remember your best friend being this stupid. “Who do you think?”

“I didn’t do that,” Tenko says, but his eyes dart to one side, the way they used to do when he knew he was wrong. A second later he changes his tune. “You made me do it. If you hadn’t chased me –”

You shouldn’t have chased him, but he didn’t have to choke you and burn the skin off your wrist. You look Tenko over and change the subject. You don’t want to argue. You don’t want him to get mad. “Aren’t you missing something?”

He gives you a puzzled look, and you mime a hand covering your face. “Father,” Tenko says. He calls it Father? That’s – weird. “He’s here.”

He unhooks his finger from your collar, reaches into his hoodie pocket, extracts the hand, and secures it over his face. It should look ridiculous, but instead it’s terrifying. “I can’t wear him in daylight. Master says he’s too recognizable yet.”

None of those words make any sense, and you’ve lost your ability to speak. “It says you treat everybody here. You have to. Right?” Tenko asks. You nod wordlessly. “So treat me.”

“Um –” You get the syllable out of your mouth, watching Tenko’s shoulders stiffen at the sound of your voice. “Do you have your intake form? They would have given it to you when you checked in.”

Tenko’s mouth twists. “The brat at the front desk didn’t give me anything. She said she could fill it in herself, since she knew I was here for dermatology.”

You think back to your coworker’s message. You’d say the new kid messed up pretty bad. “I’m sorry. She shouldn’t have made that assumption.”

“You did too. Didn’t you? I bet you thought I came in here for help with my disgusting skin.”

“No,” you say. “I think you’re probably coming in for your wrist.”

It’s the only thing that makes sense to you, short of him tracking you down to finish the job, and when he’s reached for you or taken the hand out of his pocket, he’s used his left hand. If your memory’s correct, Tenko’s right-handed. “It looked like you hurt it when you fell,” you continue. Tenko stares at you. “Are there any other issues you’d like us to investigate while you’re here?”

Tenko shakes his head. Okay. Nineteen-year-old male, here for suspected injury to wrist. What’s next in your exam workflow? A process you run through at least a hundred times per week has exited your mind completely. You glance around the room uselessly and your eyes land on your blood pressure cuff. “Okay. I’m going to take your vitals.”

“Why do you need those?” Tenko looks suspicious. “Stay away from me.”

“I need your blood pressure, your pulse rate, and your pulse oxygen level. None of those are invasive tests.” Not usually, anyway – given how Tenko reacted the last time you came anywhere close to touching him, you’re pretty sure that pushing the point here could get you killed. “Or just the pulse oxygen. That goes on your finger.”

You take it out, only to remember about Tenko’s quirk. Tenko notices your hesitation. He sneers behind the hand. “Don’t worry. It only works with all five fingers.”

Good to know. You clip the pulse oxygen monitor onto his middle finger and turn back to your computer. Even without looking at his wrist, an x-ray is standard protocol, and you need to get Tenko into the queue right away. The less time he spends here, the less danger everybody else is in. It might be too late for you already.

“What do you think?” Tenko asks. You look at him. “The quirk.”

“You’ve got one.” You’re not really sure what else to say.

“And you don’t. Still?” Tenko raises his eyebrows. You nod. “And you still don’t care.”

“No,” you say. “I never cared about not having one. Only about how people treat me.”

“I bet they treat you like shit,” Tenko says. He sounds gleeful, but his expression doesn’t match his tone of voice. It’s weird. “If I ask you why you’re here instead of some fancy clinic on the nice side of town, you’ll probably lie and say you love it here. But you’re here because nowhere else will take somebody who doesn’t have a quirk. Isn’t that right?”

“I do like it here.” You aren’t lying. The pulse ox monitor beeps and you take it back from Tenko, recording the reading on your computer. “And I’m here because nowhere else will take me. Let me see your wrist.”

Tenko’s had his other hand in the front pocket of his hoodie this whole time. He draws it out slowly and extends it towards you. You’re not qualified to diagnose anything, but you can see that it’s bruised and swollen, and the skin is hot when you touch it. Tenko hisses as your fingers make contact. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to see if there’s an obvious break.” You shouldn’t – he’ll be headed to Imaging no matter what – but you don’t want anyone else to come into contact with Tenko unless they have to. Tenko’s wrist is swollen to the point that you can barely feel anything beneath it. “Were you resting this last night? Or using it?”

“I had games to play.”

Tenko’s a gamer now. Huh. “That’s probably why it’s so sore. And so swollen. No more gaming with that hand until it heals.”

“You’re not a doctor. Don’t tell me what to do.”

“The doctor’s going to say the same thing.” You glance away at your screen, checking your position in the Imaging queue. There’s a chest x-ray ahead of you, with a sick kid, and those always take a while. “I’m going to get you some ice for this. It’ll help with the x-rays if the swelling goes down. Stay here.”

“No.” Tenko gets to his feet, pulling his wrist out of your grip, grimacing as the motion jars the injury. “You think I don’t know what you’ll do? You’re just dying to go to the cops.”

“I had a chance to go to the cops. Last night, when I went to the hospital for this.” You gesture at your throat, and Tenko’s expression twists behind the hand. “I didn’t go then. Why would I go now?”

Tenko stares at you. You hold his gaze. You’ve never lost a staring contest in your life, and you’re not planning to start today – and after a long moment, Tenko averts his eyes. “You can go,” he says shortly. “But I won’t use it unless you get some for your neck.”

Does he feel guilty? Is that why he’s saying that? You decide not to think about it too hard. He’s your patient right now. If this is what it’ll take for him to ice his injury, you’ll happily slap a bag of ice on your throat.

But once you’ve brought the ice back, and you’re holding yours to your throat while Tenko applies his gingerly to his wrist, you’re out of other things to do. It’s just you and your best friend, who tried to kill you last night, sitting in a room together. Tenko still has the hand over his face. Your wrist is still itching. Before last night, when you still had the luxury of imagining what it would be like to meet Tenko again after all this time, you didn’t imagine it would be like this. It makes you sad.

You’re expecting silence until Tenko gets called back to Imaging, but to your surprise, Tenko speaks up. “Your parents had three more kids,” he says. You nod. “Why?”

“To be fair to them, they thought they were only having one.” You don’t like being fair to them about this, given what happened afterwards, even if there’s no way they could have known. “It was triplets, and they were pretty sick. They got the same kind of quirk as the rest of the family, so they made us all feel how they felt. Which was – bad.”

Tenko doesn’t say anything. You shouldn’t be talking about your family, not when his family is dead. Does he even know what happened to his family? You’re not going to ask. “Sorry.”

“Did you have to take care of them?”

“What?”

“The stupid triplets. Did you have to take care of them, too?” Tenko glares from behind the hand. “I remember you always had to before. You never stayed as long as you wanted to.”

“Oh,” you say, startled. “No, um – I had to get home. I wanted to.”

“My birthday party. Your mom came to get you early and you said you weren’t crying but you were.” Tenko is still glaring at you, and you find yourself shrinking back in your chair. “I remember. Don’t lie.”

“You didn’t remember last night,” you say, but he must have remembered something, or he wouldn’t have spoken up when you mentioned how many siblings you have. “Tenko, what –”

“That’s not my name. Anymore.” Tenko scratches at his neck lefthanded. “Master gave me a new one. Tomura.”

“Tomura,” you repeat. “Is that what I should call you?”

Tenko – Tomura? – keeps scratching, clawing up red scrapes in his skin. Then his hand falls back down. “Tenko. You should call me Tenko.” He averts his eyes from yours again. “You knew me before.”

Before what? You can’t decide whether to ask, and Tenko makes the decision for you. “I knew you before, too. When you were a kid whose parents wouldn’t let her stay long enough at a birthday party for a fucking piece of cake.”

“You brought me some. The next day.” Your voice is small. “I remember that. It was the nicest thing anybody ever did for me.”

Tenko’s shoulders stiffen. “That’s pathetic.”

“It was the nicest thing back then,” you say. “Nicer stuff has happened since then.”

Has it? It probably has, but right now your mind is full, all your memories of Tenko flooding to the forefront. There aren’t many. Not nearly enough. Three years at most – your memory is good enough to pick up some things from when you were a toddler, and you and Tenko met when you were barely old enough to speak full sentences. But you talked. You always talked. You talked to each other about everything. Right now it feels like there’s nothing in the world you could say to each other, and it breaks your heart.

Your computer pings, snapping you out of it and giving you something else to fixate on. “They’re ready for us in Imaging. I’ll walk you.”

“What, you think I can’t walk by myself?”

“I want to keep an eye on you,” you say, and Tenko scoffs. “Come on.”

He takes the hand down off his face and tucks it away again before exiting the exam room. He pulls his hood up, too, shuffling along at your side too close to be a shadow. You pass more than a few of your coworkers, all of whom give you pitying looks. They feel bad for you, but they don’t know enough to feel bad for the right reason. It makes you angry, just like it made you angry to hear Tenko’s father shout at him, a useless anger that felt too large for your tiny body. You couldn’t protect him then, and he wouldn’t let you do it now, but the urge is there, as insane as it might be. He almost killed you last night. And here you are wanting to save him.

The x-rays go quickly. A few different angles, and then you and Tenko stand there while the doctor on shift interprets them. “No fracture,” he reports. “Just a bad sprain. We’ll send you home with a brace to wear. Just take it easy for a few days.”

Tenko jerks his chin downwards. It would be charitable to call it a nod. The doctor makes a quick note in his chart and turns away, trusting you to dig up a brace and conclude the visit. Tenko won’t ask, so you will. “What about for pain?”

The doctor turns, raises an eyebrow. “The patient didn’t ask.”

“The patient wouldn’t have come in if it didn’t hurt.” You’re insane. You must be, to help someone who hurt you, except you’re not thinking of last night, you’re thinking of today – of your best friend, who’s not your friend anymore, but remembers you enough to be angry on your behalf. Who brought you a slice of birthday cake the next day because you couldn’t stay long enough to have one. “What would you recommend?”

“Ice it at least three times a day, and double up on NSAIDs,” the doctor says finally. “The OTC brands will be fine. If you rest it properly it should be healed by next week. Is there anything else?”

You glance at Tenko. Tenko shakes his head. “Feel better soon,” the doctor says. “Come back for a follow-up if anything worsens.”

Tenko trails after you as you retrieve a brace from the supply cabinet. “What the hell were all those acronyms?”

“NSAIDs – nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs,” you explain. “Things like ibuprofen and acetaminophen. OTC means over the counter – things you can buy without a prescription. Any convenience store should have them.”

You find a brace in the correct size and turn to find Tenko already holding out his arm. It surprises you, to the extent that you freeze for a moment, but then you snap out of it and secure the brace around his wrist. It’s simple to avoid his quirk, now that you think about it. All you have to do is make sure all five fingers don’t touch you at once.

Tenko grimaces as you fasten the last of the Velcro straps on the brace. “It’s tight.”

“It needs to be tight to support your wrist,” you say. “If it hurts, loosen it a little bit, but not so much that it slides. Do you have questions about anything else?”

Tenko shakes his head. “He didn’t say I couldn’t play games.”

“He said you had to rest your wrist,” you say. “You can play point-and-clicks. With your other hand.”

Tenko snorts. “I’m not playing point-and-clicks.”

“Better than nothing.” They’re the only type of video game you’re good at. Sometimes you and your friends make a drinking game out of them, doing a shot every time you find a clue or solve a puzzle. “If there’s nothing else, I can go ahead and walk you out.”

It’s quiet for a second. Tenko is looking at you, and you look back, unsure of what else to do. Part of you wants him gone as fast as possible, but it’s a smaller part of you than it should be. The rest of you wants your best friend, who remembers the things you don’t talk about, who saw you through the smile you knew to paste on even at five years old. You want to find out what happened to him. You want to know where he’s been. You want to know if he knew you were here, if that’s why he came to this clinic instead of any of the others. You want to know if it’s going to be another fifteen years before you see him again.

For a moment you think Tenko will say something, will come up with something else to stretch this out. Instead he glances left, then right. “Which way do I go to get out of here?”

“I’ll walk you out,” you say again. You lead him down the hall to the door that opens onto the street, fighting the lump in your throat. There’s a spiel you’re supposed to give to patients as they leave, but you can’t get it out of your mouth.

Tenko stands there a moment, then pushes the door open lefthanded, and something inside you snaps loose. You catch his sleeve and he turns to stare at you, a sneer already beginning to twist his features. You’ve got maybe three seconds before he hurts you again, and you have to use them wisely. “I won’t ask about the rest of it. I’m not going to follow you again,” you say. “I know we won’t see each other after this. I just need to know. Are you okay, wherever you are?”

You’re expecting him to mock you, but instead the sneer falls from his face. He looks like himself again, the part of him you knew best. He doesn’t ask why you care, and you realize it’s because he knows. He knew last night when he let you go instead of killing you. You’re his best friend. Of course you care.

“Yeah. I –” Tenko coughs, clears his throat. His voice is back to its usual rasp when he speaks. “I’m okay.”

You know he’s lying. You think he might know that you know, too. But he pulls his arm away slightly, not yanking it from your grip but making it clear that he wants to leave, and you let him go.

The door swings shut behind him, and you turn and head back to your exam room, working on documenting his visit in the chart until your eyes go blurry. You didn’t sleep at all last night. You won’t sleep well tonight, either. You know already that you’ll be up late into the night, retracing every second in your head, trying to figure out what went wrong. Trying to guess what happened. Wondering, like you always wonder about Tenko – if he’s alive, if he’s all right.

You have answers to the first two questions now. Other than that, the things that keep you up tonight will be the same as they’ve been since you were six years old. Other than the scar around your wrist and the bruises around your throat, nothing’s changed at all.

✩ CHASE ✩

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - yandere!𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘎𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘒𝘐 𝘛𝘖𝘔𝘜𝘙𝘈 𝘟 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙

𝘲𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦 : his words were sharp, jagged, barbed, piercing into your misshapenly taped together soul, something you’d worked so hard to mend and heal during your time alone, yet it shattered all too easily once more, it’s dust slipping through your fingers.

“i’m the only one you’ve got left,” he prodded, “and you need me.”

warnings and notes!

stalker tomura . literal chasing lol . toxic relationship . quirkless au . usage of pet names (“kid) . reader has relationship trauma . isolated reader . tomura being really mean . dacryphilia is you squint REALLY hard, lol . naïve (kinda) reader . short argument . gender neutral reader . readers pronouns/sex/gender aren’t mentioned . proofread but there still may be some spelling mistakes, enjoy <33

authors note:

is this mayhaps also inspired by “chxse - whatsaheart” … yes, also by “if it ain’t me - whatsaheart” but only slightly, i wanna make a dedicated fic for that song, lol. sorry, his music has got a chokehold on me rn and it inspires so many tomura fics…i have so many concepts in my drafts right now, you have nooo idea, lol. anyway, this is kinda a similar tomura to my “kryptonite” fic, except he’s quirkless here, that’s all, lol. there may be an influx of tomura fics because i am in love with that man beyond belief so ummm…yeah, hope you enjoy the fic though, thanks for reading, and happy prideeeee!!! mwuah <33

a heavy layer of mist hung in place of the clouds, the moonlight failing to pierce through it, wind unwelcoming and cold against your warm skin.

yet a light golden glow of comfort nestled in your chest as the night replayed in your fuzzy mind.

the soft laughter that flowed through the bar you’d spent countless hours at, time gliding by as you met up with some new friends, sharing stories and jokes over drinks. the relentless need to glance over your shoulder dissipating throughout the night, finally allowing yourself to unwind, relax and have fun.

the melody flowing through your headphones kept you in high spirits, a gentle, tired smile stretching across your lips as you walked home.

though, as you continued on, despite your mind pleading for you to stop overthinking, your gut told you otherwise, that strong urge to have a peek behind you as unease settled in, took over, and you did.

neck snapping sharply in the direction, you came to a halt, fingers lowering the volume of your music with a click click click, taking a headphone out just to be sure.

the street was docile, deserted, filled with nothing but the quiet whirring of the tall street lamps lazily illuminating the parked cars and cracked pavement.

a shaky breath slipped past your lips as your eyes finished scanning your surroundings at a rapid pace, lingering just beyond the horizon before finally turning to continue on.

nothing was there, yet the suspicion remained, regardless of how silly your mind made you feel for it.

hands clenched into tight fists, balled at your sides, your heartbeat rose and you couldn’t shake the feeling of a pair of eyes…a sharp, venomous gaze searing through you.

a feeling you knew all too well, you were sure of it.

hot, acidic bile threatened to climb up, core burning as you could almost…hear them.

the footsteps trailing behind you, and your confirmation was in them growing heavier and heavier as they neared.

willing yourself to gain speed, your adrenaline filled body was forced into motion, gazing back for just a moment to reveal a shadowy figure that was hot on your hills, your body moving into a sprint as a result.

the wind almost cut your skin as you ran against it, the sudden gasp you let in setting a fire in your lungs, mind frantically searching for the best solution on how to lose them, going home now out of the question.

your legs gained a mind of their own as they pulled you forward with each lunge they took, earning you enough distance from the person to evade them with your next turn.

it was a tight space, an alleyway sandwiched between two tall buildings,

running down it slightly, soon coming to a stop, wind being knocked out of you at the sight before you, your heart sank to the depths of your stomach as the tall, looming wall came into view.

a deadend.

body tense as the haunting presence made itself known, the harsh footsteps that trailed behind you coming to a stop, boots scraping against the asphalt.

quieting your shaky exhale as much as you could, “what do you want, tomura ?” your voice was as stern as you could currently manage with the raging anxiety that currently encompassed your being, slight trembles pushing through the crevices.

tomura noticed, though he paid it no mind, hands placed lazily in his pockets, demeanour relaxed as he replied, “ahh, and here i thought you’d forgotten about me,” your stomach churned at the sound of his voice, having not heard it in so long, a flurry of horrible memories saturated your mind as he continued, sarcasm laced thickly in the words he spoke, “ignoring my calls and texts like im just some random guy,” scoffing, “im wounded, truly.”

the intense fear you’d been engulfed by began to slowly be poisoned by sheer annoyance at the man’s audacious attitude, shifting on your feet to finally meet his searing crimson gaze.

breath hitching, heart clenching, stomach dropping, that sense of fear threatened to consume you once more, yet you pushed on as best as you could, “we broke up, tomura.”

the statement was bland, harsh, tainted with frustration and it was met with a soft laugh, barely audible, a gentle exhale through his nose.

“you broke up with me,” a slight shake of his head, “i never agreed to it, nor did i accept it,” he corrected taking a few steps closer, you retreated in turn, back soon meeting the wall, him, catching up to you as he continued.

“i gave you time, didn’t i ?” his fluffy white hair had grown much longer since the last time you’d seen him, falling to the side as he tilted his head in question, slight mockery tainting his words, “gave you enough space to figure out your thoughts ?” his hand moved to cup your wine flushed cheek, thumbing gently against it, eyes softening as they stared down into the pretty ones he missed so much, “so let’s go home, yeah ?”

your gaze remained harsh, defensive, “i’m not going anywhere with you, tomura.”

the bite in your words earned the quirk in tomura’s brow, hand dropping down to his side in disgust at your refusal, the warmth the alcohol brought you long gone by now, the unforgiving air nipping at your cheeks.

“yeah ?” he questioned, tone growing slightly hostile, “and what’s here for you, hm ?”

brows furrowing at the question, irritation seeped through your tone as you vented, “i’m building a life h—“

yet his voice cut yours short, “your friends ? your family ? they’re all gone, no ?” rhetorical questions soaked in venom as he spoke, “left you all alone for me to pick up the pieces that is you, to take care of you when you couldn’t do so yourself, right ?” he continued on, warning, “it’ll happen again,_____, you know that. when you’re the problem, they’ll all leave in the end.”

his words were sharp, jagged, barbed, piercing into your misshapenly taped together soul, something you’d worked so hard to mend and heal during your time alone, yet it shattered all too easily once more, it’s dust slipping through your fingers.

“i’m the only one you’ve got left,” he prodded, “and you need me.”

taking in a sharp intake of breath, your heart clenched, eyes stinging, “you’re the problem, tomura…” sighing, “you m-manipulated me, gaslighted me…for years…it’s all on you.” volume growing weaker as you strung the words together, slight cracks slipping through as your eyes welled.

“i see your new friends have taught you some big words, kid, but those are some bold accusations to throw at the person who saved you from yourself,” face scrunched at the comment, octave dropping “you owe me.”

shaking your head at the words, tomura watched as your tense muscles relaxed slightly, the threatening tears in your eyes spilling over with loss, body slumping in defeat and he moved to swipe them away.

“apologise.” he whispered, voice gentle enough to break your will completely, and your body rocked in his grip as you sobbed into his chest, feeling your strength draining, physically and emotionally upon contact, his hand raking through your hair in comfort as the words spilled out.

“i-im sorry,” you stuttered through choked whimpers, it was automatic, a trained part of you jumping out suddenly to satisfy the command.

tomura hummed in response and you continued, “f-for leaving you…for c-calling you such things…” soft pleads slipped past your lips, the part you’d buried so deep within yourself rearing its head again, “p-please, i just…” the fear of angering tomura had you trailing off, but you pushed to continue, “…i don’t want it to be like before,” you spoke in one breath and your heartbeat quickened as tomura pulled away, lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

“it won’t be,” he promised, eyes as gentle as his voice, and though you knew it was a lie, a flowery bouquet of bait that would die out soon, never to be replaced, you accepted them wholeheartedly. your current crave for his touch propelled your ignorance to the lie, your desire for tomura’s approval, for tomura’s praise, for tomura’s satisfaction at the hands of you.

“you’ll be fine, kid.” he continued, eyes shifting to your lips as he neared you, meeting in a harsh kiss full of emotion, muscles relaxing at the contact. his hands found your waist, pulling you in, your own lacing in his lengthy hair as your lips moved, both wishing you could get even closer, give each other more of yourselves.

parting, you remained close as you let out a melody of pants together before he spoke up, “show me to your new place, then, yeah ? we’ll have you moved out by morning.”

An old drawing of our king taking a bath✨😭

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Game night

✿ Tomura Shigaraki x streamer!Reader ✿

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Genre : Smut , fluff

CW : smut , cussing

WC : 3.9k

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

You were a streamer and actually really popular in Japan. Not only because of your looks but also Skills. It was another Friday evening and you were streaming one of your favorite games. On Friday’s you liked to invite people to come and play with you. Out of hundreds of people obviously only a few had to Chance to actually play with you. And currently Shigaraki was sitting in front of his computer waiting for you to pick him. He watched your streams every time and every Friday he anxiously waited for you to pick him but so far he had no luck.

„And the next one up iiiiiis john675!!“

You said with excitement. To him you were just so cute and perfekt. Perfekt for him he knew it. It was meant to be. But he groaned in frustration smashing his fists on the table making it shake. He was not only so eager to play with you because he would get the chance to talk to you but you also had a challenge for your fans. The person that beats you would get unlimited access to personally message you. But so far nobody has won and many have tried. Be he knew he could do it.

“So guys one more person and we are done for today”

He couldn’t wait his hands were sweaty and he was holding his breath.

“The last person is decay69”

He couldn’t believe it. He was in shock hastily grabbing his mouse almost dropping it to click the invite request from.

“Hello can you hear me ok?”

You asked so sweetly. You were always so sweet. He couldn’t believe you were actually talking to him.

“Y-yes I can”

Ofcourse he had to stutter he mentally cursed him self out for that.

“Alright are you ready?”

“Yes”

And the game began he was mostly quite through out the game focusing on not loosing and killing your character. But you were good and landed many hits on him. In between you let out little giggles or said stuff like “got u” while smiling. To you it was just a silly game but to him it was so much more. It was his only chance to ever talk to you. And suddenly he was starting to get closer to winning. And you have gone silent also focusing. Because no one has ever gotten this close to winning. The chat was going crazy. And after some time the winner letters appeared on his screen. He leaned back in his chair with a huge grin on his face he did it. You were in shook mouth hung wide open.

“Omg congratulations decay69 that was amazing no one has ever beaten me“

You smiled you were no doubt actually quite happy Someone has finally won.

„Thank you“ he said with a small chuckle.

And not gonna lie that chuckle sounded so hot his deep husky voice in General. Now you were a different kind of exited to talk to him.

„So I’m going to send you the access info for the private chat and I am excited to talk to you“

„Me too“

was all he said before you said your goodbyes and endet the stream.

He still couldn’t believe he would finally get to talk to you. But a pretty girl like you would probably be disgusted if you knew who he was and what he looked liked. Thank god through chat you couldn’t see that.

Soon after the stream endet he got a message from you.

„Hey decay69 that was an amazing game you were really good ^^ I had a lot of fun playing with you ♡ „

„Thank you I also had a lot of fun“

„I’m glad you did so what are you up to ^^“

He can just imagine how you lay on your fluffy bed in thigh high socks and an oversized sweater on. He wishes he could just hold you and talk to you like that. He thought you would only send him a few messages and he would have to be the one to start the conversations and keep them going but surprisingly you guys had a lot more in common than gaming. You were writing for hours. You were also quite surprised how talkative he could get he seemed so shy in the beginning. And this went on for weeks. And sooner or later you became more curious. Wanting to know more about him. But you didn’t wanna make him uncomfortable. But one day you decided to ask for at least his name. You guys talk about so much private stuff that his name should be no problem.

“Hey ^^”

“Hi”

He always responded so fast you loved that about him.

“I really like talking to you a lot and I want to get to know you better so I just wanted to ask if you would tell me your name ?”

“If not it’s totally fine ;)”

You reassured because he took longer than usual to reply to you. Regret sinkt in. He probably had a reason he didn’t tell you his name. You threw your head into the pillows in frustration.

On the other side of the phone was a struggling shigaraki not knowing how to reply. The lov wasn’t that famous yet so there was only a slim chance you would know who he is. But then he had an idea.

“Tenko”

You snapped your head up from the notification and saw his message. You had a huge smile on your face.

“I like that it suits you“

He blushed at your message. He does not know if this is the right moment to ask but you did say you wanted to get to know him better so he took his luck and just went for it.

„I would like to get to know you better too is there any chance you would like to meet up someday?”

Now it was you time to blush. You giggled like a school girl with a crush. Well you did kinda have a crush on him. But you did had to be careful he could still be some kind of creep. He didn’t send you any photos of him but he did describe to you what he looked like.

“I would like that ^^”

He couldn’t believe that you actually wanted to meet. So you guys made up a place and time to meet. You chose a park it was private but also public enough for a first date. You were both excited and couldn’t wait.

- a few days later -

You arrived at the park. You guys decided to meet at the fountain. You looked around but he wasn’t here yet. So you decided to sit on a bank and wait for him. You wore a cute little sundress and had your makeup done. You did put in a little more effort than usual and wore your expensive Parfum. You were on your phone waiting till someone came up to you.

“Y/n?”

It was him. He looked so shy. You looked at him with a big smile on your face and stood up. Only then you noticed how much taller he was than you he was basically towering over you. To not make it obvious that you were starting at him you decided to hug him. You had to go on your tippy toes to actually throw your arms over him. He was kinda stiff at first probably not expecting a hug but he soon hugged you back with his hands, with one finger on each hand up around your waist . You smelled so good he didn’t wanna let go. But he eventually had to.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you” you smiled at him. You were a lot closer than before and could see how handsome he actually was. He smiled back. His smile was so cute. You blushed and looked down at the flower bouquet he was holding.

“I got these for you I hope you like them” he said handing them to you.

“That’s so nice of you thank you I love them”

You guys started walking through the park and talking about all kind of things. You were afraid it was going to be awkward but it was actually really nice. What you didn’t know is how nervous he actually was. There were so many things going through his head afraid he would do something wrong or someone recognizing him. But one thing that he couldn’t get out of his mind was the urge to hold you. Touch you just hug you again. Or holding your hand. Showing everyone that walked by and started at your beauty that you belonged to him. Because quite frankly he was getting kinda jealous but he wouldn’t admit that. Every guy that walked past you stared at you. But you were too naive to notice.

“Tenko would you like to watch the sunset with me”

Your question ripped him out of his daydream about dusting every guy that looked at you.

“Yes sure”

“A few minutes from here is a little hill we’ll have a great view from there” you smiled. You were so excited he agreed. You always wanted to watch the sunset with somebody and now you got to do it with him. You guys soon arrived at a hill and sat down. You sat down so close to him you were practically pressed against each other. And soon after the sun started setting. You just set in silence and enjoyed the view. You decided to rest your head on his shoulder. Thank god you couldn’t see his face he thought because it was bright red. He has to bite his lip to keep himself from smiling like an idiot.

“I’m really glad you beat me in the game” you said looking up at him. “I really enjoy spending time with you”

He looked down at your pretty face and couldn’t keep himself from blushing. He could honestly cry. He could have never in a million years imagine this.

“Me too … believe me when I say talking to you is the highlight of my day”. You guys stayed like this just looking into each other’s eyes. But he noticed you were also looking at his lips. But he didn’t know if you looked at his disgusting scar or if you wanted him to kiss you. So he took the chance and slowly leaned in. But suddenly it thundered. And it started to rain heavily. Of course it had to rain. You guys quickly got up and he took your hand running to find the nearest shelter that wasn’t a tree. You guys found this little ally that was covered. The ally was really small though and to your luck you wore a white dress and you got so wet it started to be see-through. It didn’t took Shigaraki long to noticed and out of respect he looked away. You covered your self and utter a small sorry. He quickly took off his jacket and covered you with it.

“Don’t be” he smiled at you. And at this moment this man had a chock hold on you. How sweet could he be. No one has ever treated you so nicely before. So before you could think you grabbed his face and smashed your lips into his. It took him by surprise but it didn’t take him long to pull you close and return the kiss. This feeling was indescribable. He felt so hot against your body you didn’t wanna let him go. But soon you guys had to to catch some air. So you pulled away and looked at each other. You bid you lip and giggled burying your face into his chest. He hugged you and chuckled at your sudden shyness. You looked up at him and said.

“My place is right around the corner do you wanna come over dry up and wait till the rain died down”

He eagerly nodded so you took his hand and made your way to your place. He wore his gloves and wondered if you noticed them. You haven’t mentioned anything which was good. At your place you took your shoes off and led him in. He curiously looked around he always wondered what the rest of your house looked like. You handed him a towel and a washcloth leading him to the restroom.

“Just put your clothes in the dryer and press this button they be done in a couple of minutes” you explains to him.

“Oh and if your done before me just wait in the living room I’ll turn on the tv and don’t be afraid to make yourself at home”

“Thanks I will”

You went into your bedroom and showered and got dressed in some comfy clothes. You went out into the living room where he was sitting on the couch watching some random anime.

“Are you hungry I was going to order something ?”

He wanted to say yes but he barely had 5 bucks in his pockets. You could see his distressed look and could tell he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Oh and don’t worry it’s one me you got me the flowers so I’ll get dinner. I know this really good Thai place let’s order there” he was glad you were quick in deciding so you guys ordered and you sat next to him watching a movie.

But to be honest you couldn’t concentrate on the movie. You kept thinking about the kiss and looking over at him. You wanted him to kiss you and to touch you. You imagined all kind of perverted things you wanted him to do to you. You felt like a pervert thinking about him like that. But you couldn’t help it he just had such a strong effect on you that you stated to rub your thighs together. So you decided to be bold and sit on his lap. He looked at you with big eyes not exactly knowing what to do. “Is this ok?” You asked looking up at him. He nodded and leaned in to kiss you. His hands quickly found their way to your hips messaging them. Your arms were around his neck playing with his hair. Your nails tangled in his blue locks it felt so good he moaned into the kiss. This made you grind yourself down on his crotch. His grip on your hips tightened pulling you even closer. Running his hands on the side of your body over your ass squeezing it which made you moan into the kiss letting his tounge slip into your mouth. At this point you were soaking wet. You pulled away to catch some air and to that he latched himself onto your neck making sure to leave a mark. You moaned his name to which he bucked his hips up into your already soaking crotch.

“Where’s your bedroom” he asked in between kisses. You told him where it is so he picked you up off the couch with ease. You wondered what was beneath his sweater. He threw you on the bed climbing on top of you making you feel so small. He started kissing you again massaging your sides and sliding his hands up your torso groping your tits. Slightly pinching the nipple making you cry out. He looked at your for consent to take your shirt off to which you nodded eagerly making him smile at how cute you are. He kissed his way all the way down from your collarbone to your stomach. Taking your pants off messaging your thighs. Leaving bite marks. You pull him in closer to take off his shirt so you wouldn’t feel so exposed. He kinda stopped you. You gave him a concerning look.

“You don’t wanna see that”

He mumbled which made your heart sink that he thought of himself that way. You kissed him running your hands up his arms to his neck pulling him close.

“I want to see all of you … please”

At your words he let you take his shirt off averting his gaze ready for you to pusch him away from you for all his disgusting scars and skin problems. But you started to kiss his chest. Running your hands along his abs down to his belt. You whispers into his ear how handsome he was and how much you wanted him. Biting at his neck leaving marks. This made his cock painfully hard already leaking precum. He pushed you back down going down on you and pulling your panties off latching himself onto your lips slurping up all your juices making you moan out his name.

“You’re so fucking wet all for me hm?”

“Y-yes yes all for you -please”

He put two of his fingers in your mouth making you slightly gag at their size. He made you suck on them. He pulled them out of you pushing one of them into you making you arch your back. Soon adding the second one massaging your insides curling them. Making your moan and squirm. He holds you down by your thighs and going faster. You’re squeezing down on him making him wonder what you feel like on his cock.

“I’m gonna cum Tenko” you whimperd out grabbing at his hair pulling him closer suffocating him.

“Cum for me baby” and at his word you came all over his face pulling his hair and arching your back letting out loud moans. He kissed your thighs asking if you were ok. You giggled at him tasting your self on his lips. You unbuckled his belt taking off his pants.

“So eager” he growled into your ears giving you goosebumps. He pulled down his boxers making his hard cock slap against his stomach. You looked at it with big worried eyes. You didn’t expect him to be so big. You looked up at him. And he new what you thought. You looked up at him and said.

“I’ve never… ehm done it before”

You averted your gaze afraid of his judgement. But what you didn’t see Shigaraki was looking at you in shock. How has no one ever made love to you and made your feel good. AND you let him be your first time. That he was a virgin is no surprise but the way he treated you and made you cum your didn’t think that. Which made your feel inexperienced. So he kissed your forehead smiling at you.

“It’s ok I’ll be gentle ist my first time too” the last part he kinda whispers but you heard him clearly.

You kissed him smiling at him letting him know he can start now. He aligned himself with your entrance slowly pushing in. You winced in pain burring your face into your pillow. He kissed your cheeks and tears away. Slowly pushing all the way in making you moan out and scratch his back. He growled biting your shoulder trying not to come on the spot. You were so tight and warm squeezing him so good. He let you adjust to his fat cock. Kissing you so softly. Massaging your thighs.

“Please move“ You whimperd out. And he did groaning in your ear because of how tight you’re squeezing him. From the beginning he was hitting all your right spots making you moan out his name clawing at his back. Tears streaming down your face because of how good he makes you feel. He is cursing under his breath and praising you. Saying stuff like

„you feel so good“

„So pretty“

„Mine“

„Taking me so well“

„You sound so pretty“

It drove you wild. But he was still holding back so you told him to go faster.

„Please Tenko don’t hold back - go faster please feels so good“

And he did he grabbed your hips harshly holding you down and thrusting into your soft spunky walls. Making you cry out and a white ring forming around the base of his cock. You slid your hand down in between your hot and sweaty body’s rubbing your clit. He noticed and replaced your hands with his large calloused ones roughly rubbing your clit. Your eyes crossed at this your tongue hanging out and brain going numb. He grinned at the sight of you knowing how dumb he’s fucking you. He could tell you were about to come the way you were squeezing him.

„Cum for me baby cum on my cock you slut“

You threw your head back and arched your back cumming on his cock squirting all over him. This was the sexiest thing he has ever seen. The way you claw at him the faces you make and the way you moan his name. He finally has you. Making you feel this good is just pushing his ego. You felt him pull out but wrapped your legs around his waist pushing him back in.

„Please baby cum inside me“

And how could he deny you. He moaned so loud if he wasn’t so high on the feeling of your wall squeezing him he would have been embarrassed. He fell on top of you nuzzling his face into your neck. Leaving soft kisses. After some time embracing each other he rolled off you laying on his back pulling you on top of him.

„Are you ok?“ he asked to make sure your ok. You lifted your head up looking into his red orbs. Smiling at him and just above a whisper answers with a tired yes. Reaching your hand out to caress his face. Even tho he just fucked the shit out of you he was blushing and acting all shy. You put your head back down listening to his heart beat. His hands running up and down your body. You could stay like this forever. But then you remembered the food you guys ordered.

„Come on let’s take another shower before the food gets here“ you giggled. You sat up him following your lead. You got up but stumbled not being able to hold yourself up. He caught you and picked you up bridal style. You let out a little shriek holding on to him.

„Don’t worry bunny I won’t drop you“

You guys took another shower together and got dressed and ate your food Continuing the movie you started. After you finished you talked some more cuddled and kissed just enjoying you guy’s time. You asked him to stay the and he gladly agreed.

———————————————————————————

You woke up before him. Looking at his sleeping form. It made you smile remembering last night. But you had to wake him even though you could watch him sleep for hours he’s so cute. It was Sunday and on Sunday’s you usually streamed earlier then usual. So you shook him awake and told him that you are going to make breakfast and had to stream in a bit but he could keep on sleeping if he wants too. He gave you a sleepy nod and you kissed his cheek making your war into the kitchen. After you finished cooking and eating you started streaming. About 30 mins in a sleepy shigaraki woke up looking for you. He had no memory of you waking him up and making breakfast. He walked into your streaming room.

“Yeah that was pretty f-“ you saw him in your camera and quickly turned it away and muted the mic panic on your face. Thank god he was so tall and your viewers could only see his lower half. Your viewers went crazy flooding the comment section. You quickly got up pushing him out of your room. Only then he realized what happend when he so your stressed expression and cheeky smile. And the only thing he said was “oops”. While grinning at you kissing your forehead.

(A/N: This is my longest fic I have ever written if you want to let me now if you liked it ;) rebloggs are welcome and pls leave request!!!!)

Hey guuy so some people know, some doesn't but this account is the one i'm sharing with a friend of mine, we both are simp of Tomura soooo yea, she's doing the nsfw stories 'bout Tomura and i'm doing the sfw, drawing and pictures so yeaaa i was thinking of creating a second accpunt just for my drawings and the story a new life for Tomura that we wrote together for my oc and that i'm drawing 'cause idk i may use my oc for others stuff and i don't wanna people thinking this account is stealing art or whatever...i'll post the new account name by rebloging this

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Alright so..it is personnal i don't ship shame but i'm sorry but shipping Tomura and Afo is litteraly not okay. Bro raised groomed and ruin Tomura's life like..what ? Like litteraly what ?!

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

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17

Chapter 18

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rumi.” The ghost dematerializes and vanishes completely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sped the whole way here!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shiggy

WARNING: Mention of self harm, Soft!Tomura, orgasm denial, restraints

Shiggy had asked you too handcuff his hands up so he didn't hurt you. You were all to eager and immediately agreed. 

He looked amazing handcuffed to the headboard with leather knots all over his body. He wore leather gloves that covered like two fingers on each hand. He wore the knots to match the gloves. 

Flash to the present you are currently bouncing on his cock riding him like there's no tomorrow. His eyes flash and he growls "I changed my mind uncuff me" You giggle. "sorry I don't want to" You say. 

You know it will not be good for you when he gets out but all you care about in the moment is the control you don't usually get to have.

"Fucking brat" he growls struggling a bit against his cuffs. One of your hands drift down to your clit and you rub your bead feeling your orgasm approaching.

 Your pace slowing as your intense orgasm approaches steadily. "you better not cum" He warns yanking harder on the cuffs. 

What you don't notice is one of his one fingered gloves he was gradually shimmying off. You lean back bracing yourself on his thighs giving him a good view of the lewd way your cunt swallows his cock. 

You close your eyes lost in the bliss so you don't see him break the cuffs. He puts his glove back on still cautious not to hurt you even when pissed.

He grips your hips in his hands tightly, so tight it might leave a bruise. Your eyes shoot open and you stop all movement. Your so fucking screwed. He flips you over so hes on top still inside you.

"Im sorry?" You try but it comes out like a question because you know no matter what hes not going to let you get away with that. He shakes his head and scoffs.

"Here's what's going to happen" He starts, smirking "I'm going to use you to cum and you don't get to cum tonight" Right as you're about to complain he tuts "You don't get a say."

"But" You whine "I wont do it again just please let me cum" His answer is he starts thrusting hard and fast while holding my wrists above my head.

He may control the bedroom but he can be sweet to. You remember the day he found your scars. He just hugged you and kissed your scars.

Drool leaks down your chin as you fail to swallow going dumb on his cock. "Tomura" you moan, getting close. "Please i wanna cum" You blabber. He mumbles some praise in your ear "Your taking me so well but you still don't get to cum."

His hips thrust erratically now signaling he's close. "'M gunna cum in you" He grunts, panting. You whine "Yes, yes, yes,yes" You are delirious on pleasure even when you know you cant cum.

Finally he cums with your name on his lips.