Latest Posts by flamme-shigaraki-spithoe - Page 7

shhhh..

~ shigaraki x f!reader

summary: you had been exceptionally dry towards your boyfriend this past week, and he couldn’t get the reason out of you over text, no matter how hard he tried. So he figured he’d pay you a little visit! :)

additional tags: reader has strict parents, eventual smut, forced to be quiet, established relationship, teasing, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, using panties as a gag, slight aftercare, no quirk au

a/n: this is my first time writing publicly on this account, so please feel free to leave tips or suggestions for me <3

word count: ~2.7k

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Family dinner was something that was obligatory in your household; it had been since the dawn of time. Unless you weren’t home, you had no excuse to not be sat at your dining room table with your parents. That leaves you where you are now, picking at your plate as you sit in uncomfortable silence with your mom and dad. You knew the reason why they were refraining from breaking the silence, in turn understanding that they were going to avoid the subject all together.

“So, when can I talk to my boyfriend again?” Your tone was slightly annoyed, as you placed your fork down on your plate and looked up across the table. You met your mother’s eyes, which looked to her husband, and back to you. She let out a sigh as she also set down her fork, bringing her napkin to the corner of her mouth.

“You know the answer. He’s bad for you, and we will not allow you two to see each other any longer,” she stated simply. She was right, you knew the answer, but you couldn’t stand being forced to be so distant with him. It killed you to not maintain the same personality with him online, let alone not seeing him for the past week and a half. You looked to your dad, but he avoided your gaze, not being one for confrontation. “What your mother said, sweetheart.”

You scoffed, throwing your hands up and letting them fall to your sides. “That’s not fair, it’s my life,” you said, hating that they thought they could control you like this. “No, it’s our life, and it will be for as long as you live under this roof. If you want to be independent, you can move out!” Your mother raised her voice, displaying her usual short temper. “You don’t get it, you don’t even care enough to meet him,” you retorted, propping your elbows up on the table and swinging your hands around as you spoke, as if it helped prove your point.

“Honey, please, just try to see it from our perspective,” your dad started, turning to face you. “You sneak around with him, he’s been in the custody of the police more than once, he doesn’t do good in school, the list goes on. He doesn’t seem to have a good influence on you. We’re doing this because we love you.” You looked at your dad in disbelief. Of course they used that excuse, it’s their favorite one to abuse.

“You will stop seeing each other, and that’s final.” Your mom stated with no room for arguing otherwise. Feeling your blood rush to your face, you made the executive decision to stand up from the table, and reside in your room, not wanting to say anything that would provoke further punishment from the both of them. “If you loved me, you would let me live my life however I damn well pleased. Fucking god.” The words left your lips as a soft curse as you stormed down the hall and toward your bedroom door. Opening it revealed a surprise that you definitely weren’t expecting.

There laid your boyfriend, Tomura, lazily on your bed, fiddling with some little trinket that was supposed to be on your desk. The sound of your door opening snapped him out of whatever he was doing, and he smiled, really it was more of a smirk, and got up off the bed to greet you.

“Hey sweet thing.” He cooed out. Your eyes were wide and your feet were frozen, not expecting him to literally be in your room.

You shut the door swiftly, and held your hands out in front of you, motioning for him to stop and explain himself. “How? Why??” You could barely get out before realizing your parents could probably still hear you. Before he even started talking, you put a finger to your lips, signaling him to be quiet. You walked past him, finding something to turn on as noise to drown you two out. You landed on just turning on your fan.

The fan ran for a second before you interrogated him on what he was doing here. “What are you doing? How did you get in?” You were right in front of him, whisper-yelling your inquiries at him. He started walking closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies. You stepped back, until you reached your bed. You sat on it and looked up at him, waiting for his answer.

“Well, your window was unlocked, and I wanted to see why you’ve been ignoring me.” He stated with ease, a slight grin and a shrug of his shoulders accompanying his words. You sigh and furrow your eyebrows, upset at yourself. You didn’t want to break the news like this, but you figured you had no other choice. You were mentally beating yourself up for what you were about to say.

“Tomura.. I think we have to.. uhm- stop seeing.. each other.” The words left your mouth with so much hesitation, dripping in sadness. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, holding your gaze in your lap. Your head felt heavy as you tried to compose yourself, knowing he wouldn’t react well to the news.

You didn’t hear anything for a good while after you spoke, deciding to look to see what he was thinking. Except, you don’t see a different expression from what he was sporting earlier. He still had the shit-eating grin that was plastered on his face when you first saw him. “That’s cute, angel.” He rasped out, grasping your chin and forcing you to look up at him. He crawled to you on the bed, forcing you to lie down as he positioned himself on top of you, trapping you. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He leaned down to kiss you, holding the side of your face with one of his hands. You matched his movements, bringing your hands up to either side of his head. You were lost in the feeling, missing this for the last week or so. You wanted it to be slow, in case this was actually the last time you saw him. He slowly prodded your lips with his tongue, asking for permission to be let in. You granted it happily, parting your lips as you felt your breathing slowly become heavier.

He leaned down, pressing himself more into you as an effect, and finally broke the kiss. The catching of breath was all that was heard between the two of you. He just smiled with half lidded eyes before dipping down to your jawline, eventually kissing his way down to your neck. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling at his locks and tangling themselves in it. That’s when you realized that your parents were, in fact, still home. Most likely just down the hall from the both of you.

You panicked, trying to push Tomura’s face away from the warmth of your neck so that you wouldn’t get caught. “Wait, no, my parents are still home, I can’t-” You were cut off, your breath hitching, Tomura not budging as he continued his attack on your neck. “T-Tomura, I can’t, not now-“

“Yes, now,” he breathed out, finding a spot on your collarbone to sink his teeth into. He sucked on the spot afterwards, allowing as close to instant relief as he could, before dragging his tongue along it painfully slow. This elicited soft whimpers from your throat, foiling your plan of trying not to let too much noise slip. Sure, the fan helped with blocking it out, but it could only do so much before your parents got suspicious.

You eventually gave in, not being able to resist him with any bone in your body. He kissed down your collarbone, and made his way to your chest. He slid his hands up the shirt that was covering one of his favorite features about you, slowly raising it above your head and discarding it off to the side. He had a twinkle of something in his eyes, and licked his lips, before kissing and sucking all over your chest. His lips lingered on your nipple, sucking at it harshly, before bringing one of his free hands up to the other, making sure it didn’t feel neglected.

“So beautiful, all for me.” He said, making it increasingly harder to stay quiet, and you were very sure he knew that. You looked down at him, the sight one to remember, while soft moans were slipping past your lips. You bit your tongue in hopes of it helping cease the noises. He met your gaze, grinning.

Once he was done marking and biting your chest, he made his way down to your most intimate area. He started fiddling with the waistband of your underwear, looking up at you while he did so. You looked down at him with pleading eyes, practically begging him not to do what he was about to. “No! Are you crazy? Do you want me to get caught?” You whisper to him, squirming. He only laughed softly in response before slowly pulling them down your legs; past your mid thighs, then your knees, then all the way down to your ankles, before wadding them up and shoving them into your mouth.

“I guess you’ll just have to be quiet then, princess,” he teased, honing in on his target, “I bet you can manage.” His tongue stuck out, licking up your slit, then going to focus on your clit. You moaned into your panties, the sensation euphoric. God, you missed this. You couldn’t fathom how you went without him for as long as you had.

He wrapped his lips around your sensitive nub, lapping the rest of your pussy generously with his tongue. You tried to stay quiet, you really did, but you couldn’t help how euphoric it felt. You continued moaning, fighting back as much as you could manage. You were squirming in his grip, either trying to break free from his hands or trying to grind against his face; you weren’t sure which you were attempting. All that washed over you was an intense amount of pleasure, urging you to reach a hand up to one of your tits, fondling it and tugging at your nipple.

Your breath became labored, the rise and fall of your chest attracting Tomura’s eyes as he looked up at the beautiful sight: you with your legs spread wide just for him, moaning out what he assumed was a mix of curses and his name as he made you feel heavenly. He took it one step further.

“Look at me,” he pulled away, waiting for you to meet his gaze, “look at me as I fuck you with my fingers.” He said, slowly inserting his fingers into your core, feeling your gummy insides squeeze around his digits. You lulled your head back against your pillow, the combination forcing you closer to your climax.

That was until the sound of knocking at your door interrupted the two of you, the room falling almost completely silent as one of your parents made their presence known. “Honey?” Your dad called out, talking through the door. You sat up as much as you could, not knowing what to do. Your eyes darted between Tomura and your door, frozen.

“I.. I wanted to apologize for earlier.” He was lingering outside of your door. Tomura had a devilish grin on his face, slowly starting his movements up again. You looked down at him, seeing him slowly bring a finger up to his lips with a small “shh” emitting from them, dipping back down into your cunt, and thrusting his fingers in and out of you. You squealed softly into your underwear, trying especially hard not to make any noise now that your dad was outside of your door.

“You know how mom can be sometimes, she just needs some downtime,” he continued, wildly unaware of what was going on just on the other side of the wood barrier between the two of you. You felt yourself slowly climb back up the steep hill of pleasure, your boyfriend's movements only getting more intense as he makes it his mission to get you to cum. You looked down at him, pleading eyes begging him to slow down, or at least make it easier for her to keep quiet. But, to no avail as he kept up his pace with his fingers, matching it with his tongue as he focused on your sweet spots.

“We can go out tomorrow, just the two of us? I bet it’ll make you feel better, sweetheart,” he said. You squirmed, softly moaning, waiting for your dad to leave. You could feel yourself nearing the edge, wiggling your hips as you tried to force yourself into your orgasm. To your dad, you were just giving him the silent treatment, so he took that as his cue to retire back to his room. “Okay, goodnight honey,” your dad said, before leaving again.

Tomura rasped out a small laugh, before urging you on. “Come on, angel, you can do it. You’re doing so good.” He whispered in between your thighs, hitting the spots that make you see stars over and over, finally pushing you over the edge. You looked down at him one more time, before coming undone. You felt him hum in satisfaction as he tasted your orgasm, forcing you to ride it out until you were begging for him to take it easy on you. Your hand found refuge in his scalp, tangling themselves in the nest of light blue locks.

With one last lap of his tongue around your cunt, he pulled away, a smile plastered on his face as he licked his fingers clean. Your face was slightly flushed as you smiled back at him, your chest rhythmically rising and falling. He crawled on top of you, wrapping his arms around your body. You started massaging his scalp with one of your hands, and rubbed his back with the other. You heard him mumble out, “Are you actually going to follow through? With the thing you brought up earlier?” You heard his tone; he sounded defeated.

You cup his face in your hands, turning it to face your own. “Of course not. My parents have been on me about it, and I didn’t know what else to do.” You looked away for a moment, then back at him. “But, that’s not to say that I won’t still ignore you, seeing this is what happens when I do,” you teased, a smirk on your face. Tomura scoffed, shaking his head and laying it back down on your chest.

After a long, silent moment, Tomura propped himself up. “I think I should go. Your parents will kill both of us if they found out I was here,” he said, moving towards the window to open it up again. “Aww, please, stay just a little longer.. Please?” You pleaded, sitting up and following him out of bed covering yourself with a nearby blanket. He turned to face you, hands moving from the window to your face. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back. You can count on that,” he said, half of his face illuminated by the dim light of the moon. He leaned down, your lips interlocking with his one last time, before he turned to escape through the window.

“Wait!” You called out to him, leaning out the window. He turned to meet you, pulling his hood up. “Uhm- text me when you get home. Maybe I can sneak off to see you next time,” you said, a small dust of pink on your cheeks as you spoke. You heard him let out a small laugh as he nodded up to you, running off into the night, leaving you up in your room for the rest of the time being.

Shigaraki x Fem Reader

Tw: stalking, mentions of Shigaraki having kidnapped and r*ped girls in the past, consensual kidnapping (idk, but reader is eager for it fhrhdhdh), reader is fucked up in the head, reader is way too happy with being turned into a pet, 'pet' as a term of endearment, one death threat (not towards reader), owner/pet relationship, one use of 'pup' and 'master', surprisingly soft, could be considered ooc, dubcon since reader falls asleep while fucking.

Based on something @zhongh-li wrote. The og was deleted, so here's the summary: during an interview where Shigaraki reads tweets directed at him, he comes across one tweet of you saying you would give everything up in order to suck his dick. This pleases him, and turning to the camera he says "You should have left your phone number, how will I be able to contact you? I want my dick sucked." (@zhongh-li 's version was way better, but that was the gist of it, now onto the actual fic dhdhsysu)

You had replayed the clip about ten times now. Eyes wide open, jaw hanging in surprise as you simply replayed the sound of his voice saying your user name over and over.

Not only that, but he had asked you to dm him.

Of course, it could have been just a joke. But there was a 1% chance that he was serious, and you simply could not let that chance slide. The only problem was: you didn't know his twitter user.

Of course you didn't, he was the most dangerous villain, he wouldn't be posting in the internet making it easy for cops to track him. You had to think. You were so focused on the fact that your idol had noticed you, that you didn't even stop to think about the ramifications of what you had done.

You had just publicly declared allyship to a villain organizarion, and your account had been broadcasted for all to see. The knock on your door later that day should not have surprised you. But it did, and you sweated and stuttered as men in black suits opened up the doors to your one room apartment, warrant in hand, claiming you were under suspicion of being complicit in the League's crimes.

All because of a horny tweet.

In the end, things got solved, as there was nothing connecting you to the criminals besides some scattered thirst posts you had made and some anti hero rants on your Instagram. Your claims could honestly have landed you in jail if you had a quirk, but a quirkless runt like you didn't pose any real threat. Still, your twitter account had been suspended due to "spreading propaganda" and all your hopes of meeting with Shigaraki were crushed.

Back in his hideout, he smiled to himself. Silly little girl. As soon as he finished filming that interview, he went straight to his computer to find out just who you were. After all, there was a chance you could be his type, how could he pass on the opportunity of getting his cock sucked by a cutie?

You honestly exceeded his expectations. While stalking you online, he figured it would be a troll, maybe a dude, or someone really old, or even too young for him. Instead, he found your Instagram, filled with pictures of your pretty face. You seemed to be around his age, and your anti hero discourse in some of your story highlights made his smile grow even wider.

By the time the video was released, he had already found your address, and had hidden cameras set all over your apartment. Online, you seemed willing, but who knew what would happen when he actually contacted you. That's why he decided to monitor you for a while, just to make sure he could get you in a situation where you wouldn't be able to run.

Little did he know that all his worries were pointless, as you were in fact more than willing to satisfy his every need.

He chuckled as he watched you replay the video time and time again, your embarassed yet happy expression at his reply was endearing, you seemed to really love him, after all. How useful.

You went to bed exhausted after being interrogated by those men. You mindlessly played on your phone until a notification on instagram caught your attention.

"You were so cute reacting to the video. But so silly too, of course the government would show up if you posted things like that. Lucky for you, cute, silly and willing to please are just my type."

You froze. Yes, this could be Shigaraki. But also, it could very well be a random stranger who had started to stalk you. You trembled, eyes fixed on the message at the screen. You didn't reply. Moments passed, and a new message appeared. A video.

Gulping, you pressed play.

A hand held a paper, your user name written on it, along with the sentence "is this enough proof that I'm the real deal?" Five of his fingers touched the paper, and soon, it was turned into dust. Your heart beat rapidly against your chest as you gasped in surprise.

Fingers quickly moving trough the keyboard, you didn't want to keep him waiting.

"I am so sorry for doubting you, I can't believe this, I love you, aaaaaaaaaaa!!"

"You love me? How sweet. So I guess that means I am getting my dick wet, after all?"

You could die happy.

"YES YES!! Please, please let me, I know I can make you feel good, please!"

"Careful, if you keep acting sweet I might just take you and never let you go."

Were you dreaming? Did God finally bless you by making your fantasies of being taken away from your shitty life finally come true?

Was it even healthy for you to be so willing to allow this? Shouldn't you be scared at the way he had clearly stalked you?

Some say love is blind, and that may as well be true, because you ignored every single red flag as you typed "What if I told you that I've been dreaming of being taken away all along?"

Palming his erection, Shigaraki was completely stunned at your behaviour. The footage of your reactions to his messages made it clear you were being truthful. How could a person so willing to dive straight into dangerous territory like that even exist?

You were clearly fucked up in the head, but then again, broken girls were always the kinkier ones.

"Stay in your room tomorrow, don't go outside. Message your family you're gonna go on a trip, say an ex has been harassing you and you need a break. Destroy your phone and your computer, and wait for me. I'll make your dreams come true."

You should be scared. You should be fucking terrified. But instead, you squealed in delight, hugging your pillow as you immediately did what he ordered. Bye bye, work. Bye bye, shitty apartment. Bye bye, boring life. Your prince in a white horse was finally coming to take you away from the confines of hero society.

When Shigaraki opened the door to your apartment, part of him still expected a bad reaction. He thought you would look at him in disgust, yell, fight back. The idea of someone loving him was just too forgein.

It didn't make sense for him to think like this. He had been glued to his computer, watching the camera feed nonstop, even neglecting sleep just to watch you. He had seen you obediently follow his orders with a smile on your face, heard the way his name fell from your lips when you slept. Yet he still couldn't believe it.

Which is why the lack of reaction caught him off guard. You noticed him, but you didn't scream. You didn't cry, you didn't run away in disgust. You smiled, softly whispering "finally..."

Fuck... He might end up falling for you for real.

"Come." Was all he said, and you did as you were told. You didn't bring anything with you, just the clothes on your body. You obediently allowed Spinner to blindfold you, as he explained it would be dangerous to have you see throughout the car ride, since it would give away their exact location.

Shigaraki had pets before. He knew how to break down a girl and how to deal with them fighting back. He was used to being called all sorts of names as he tried to get them to understand their position. After a bout a year, they would finally be perfectly broken. But you? You were more obedient than any of the girls he tortured, and he hadn't even laid a finger on you yet.

The others couldn't hide their surprise when you asked for permission to speak. You thanked Shigaraki as soon as he allowed you, saying that you were really happy that he had allowed you to be in his presence.

Indeed, you were. You weren't a villain, but not by choice. By the time you were a teen, you were already filled with hatred for the hero world, swearing to yourself that if only you had a quirk, then you'd make everyone pay. Being allowed to be in Shigaraki's presence truly felt like a blessing.

"Quirkless, huh? Poor little thing. Don't worry, pet, If you're good to me, I'll give you one."

That was too good to be true. Embarassed, you stammered "N-no, please, someone as lowly as me is grateful just being allowed near you, t-that's too much..."

You couldn't see the smile on his face.

"You just earned yourself a treat."

The car stopped, and people started touching you. You didn't fight back, as you allowed them to carry you into what you assumed were the hideout. Many voices could be heard. A girl squealed "Am I getting a new dolly?"

A man whisteled "Good one, boss. Can I fuck her later?"

You didn't have time to frown, as Shigaraki's voice echoed trough the room "If you even breathe near her I'll fucking kill you."

You smiled, you felt safe.

Finally, you heard a door closing, and the blindfold came off. The blinds were closed, and the lights turned off. Computer monitors were the only source of light, blue light illuminating your idol's face. He sat on a chair, red eyes looking down on you as he smiled.

"Time to play, pet."

You didn't waste time, immediately moving your hands towards his sweatpants. You looked deranged, and Shigaraki figured that that was a great word to describe you. After all, only someone sick would act like this.

Drool fell from your mouth as you asked "Am I really allowed? Can I really? Are you sure?"

Four fingers pressed against your head, pushing you to his erection. "Less talking, more sucking."

With a smile on your face, you took his cock out of his underwear, marveling at it. Any normal person would be disgusted at the lack of grooming Shigaraki practiced, but not you. You took his lenght in your mouth, bitter taste flooding you as your eyes teared up. It should have grossed you out, and yet, it didn't.

You took it all in, no regards for your own safety as you choked on it, forcing yourself to swallow every bit of skin, even if it meant you couldn't breathe. His balls slapped against your chin as you moved, his musk invading your nostrils, every sensation driving you crazy.

You were so focused on doing good, you didn't even realize how Shigaraki panted and moaned, body shivering with every swipe of your tongue, mind blown as he never had someone so willing to please him like this. He was going to cum soon, and he didn't care.

Eight fingers grabbing onto your neck, dry, bruised skin rough against your softness, overgrown nails digging into you as warm white liquid filled your throat. He took his cock out, and marveled at how you moaned in delight upon tasting his seed, drinking every single drop he had given to you.

You bowed. You fucking bowed, like the obedient little pup he had come to learn you were, and thanked him for allowing you to suck him off. Fuck, it was like you were the personification of every single one of his fantasies.

His face flushed bright red, as he finally allowed himself to express how he felt inside, safe in the privacy of his own room. You kept your head on the ground, waiting for an order. "G-get up..." He mumbled, still taken aback by your every action.

You smiled to him, adoration in your eyes as you looked at him. Putting on his tough guy act again, he scoffed. "My lap, now. Gonna reward you for being good."

You squelaed, immediately sitting between his thighs. His hands wandered trough your body, pinky fingers always away from your soft skin as he groped you all over, your mewls music to his ears.

He pinched your nipples, making you cry out his name, quivering lips and teary eyes looking up at him, making him feral. Damp cloth grinded against him, your arousal evident as you desperatly chased your high.

Your master was benevolent, undressing you, and filling your needy little hole with his cock. Your walls clenched as you took him in, repeating "thank you" over and over as your legs shook, laying soft kisses in every part of him you could reach.

His cock twitched, no one had ever touched him like that, with love, with need. He barely had to move, your needy body moving up and down, moving on his cock as you moaned, putting on a show for him. You felt exhausted, not used to moving your body that much, but for Shigaraki, it felt needed. He shouldn't have to do any work, it was your job to please him.

Soon, you were creaming on his erection, panting as you clung to him, conscious fading as physical exhaustion took over. One arm held you in position as he thrusted a couple more times, reaching his own orgasm while pulling you flush against him.

Your unconscious state allowing him to be vulnerable, chapped lips brushed against your cheeks as he held you close, an affectionate smile on his face as he closed his eyes, letting himself sleep, his cock still buried inside of you.

Sun reacting to news of his demotion from Theatre Star to Daycare Nanny (he is not coping well)

stupid dumb dumb idiot goof dumb

Doodles I did my fic, chapter 16 of TROD

bad time, but at least you're not alone

doodles for trod au, later stuff

Game night

bro i'm ruining my own chances...like i'm currently studying to be a psychologist (and hopefully a criminologist after 👉👈) but every time soemone tell mz they are intrested i'm like "haha whqt a good joke.."

Then they think i mocked them but i meant it in a "Don't act like you like me then you don't" a'd its always like this TvT i swear i only reamise after

Game night

🟢 You are still a writer even when you haven't written in a while.

🟢 You are still a writer even when you feel like you aren't writing enough.

🟢 You are still a writer when you feel like your work isn't good.

🟢 You are still a writer when other people don't like your work.

🟢 You are still a writer when you aren't published.

🟢 You are still a writer when you only have works in progress.

🟢 You are still a writer if all you write is fanfiction.

Same for real xD

This mf needs to stop playing with me and propose already 🙄

its kinda sad but you'r my reason to live 🫤

Shigaraki Being Comforting Headcannon

———————————————————————————

Shigaraki//non gender specific reader. Detailed description of depression, implied suicidal ideations, mentions of alcohol, PLF arc.

You sat next to Shigaraki at the PLF’s upscale bar. He was alone, playing on his switch, just trying to pass the time while waiting for his injuries to heal and enjoy some peace and quiet.

You felt lonely too, and have looked up to your boss since you joined the league in the very beginning. Proud of how far he’s made it.. how far we’ve all made it.. but you can’t ignore the quiet depression lingering in the background of your mind. Even in moments of celebration, it’s there. It’s always there, following you like an unwanted entity, feeling as though it is forever attached to you.

Today was one of those days where the depression got louder. You could no longer bury it or push it away, it was demanding for you to feel its presence, to acknowledge it and face it. You felt heavy, empty, and alone, even though you were surrounded by people all the time, the feeling of worthlessness embodied your soul.

You were more quiet than usual, normally you talk a lot or at least smile at him and ask about his games, but not today. You just sat there staring at your drink as if you were looking through it. He couldn’t help but notice. “Either drink it or don’t, it’s creepy that you’re just sitting here like this”

Without looking away or moving, a tear falls down your face, changing his tone as one of his comrades is feeling pain. “Hey. Don’t just sit there and cry, tell me what’s wrong?”

You respond in a quiet and shaky voice, continuing to not move an inch, frozen in your tragic state, “it’s kinda sad but.. you’re my reason to live”

He doesn’t say anything.

Shigaraki just stares at you for a moment, his mouth slightly ajar as he is trying to choose his words carefully.

“Why does it have to be sad? I’d say that’s a great reason to exist” he grins.

You don’t react to his shitty joke. He then takes a sip of his drink and his voice becomes more serious.

“Look. That’s the reason I’m trying to change this rotten world. To destroy it. Will there by anything left after? Who knows really… but it’s better than living in a world full of pseudo-hero’s and all the dumbass people who worship the ground they walk on. The rejection felt from those around us will only grow stronger and more powerful each day until we do something about it. That’s why you’re here with the league right? Because you want to make a change too? So don’t do anything stupid to jeopardize that. You’re an important player in this game, you’ve survived this long with the issues you’ve had to face and deal with, what’s a little longer? Get angry, and fight back. I need you.”

Note from author:

It’s my first ever headcannon/short fic so I’m sorry if it’s bad or boring >.< I just wanted to spice up the ask responses a little bit if I can.

Beetlejuice would be fun with the situation they are in even if its nit my fav its the first that came to my mind !

Jumanji or a funny film could have pretty funny reaction maybe ? Idk

Or a classical (idk if it count but sometime like titanic or pretty woman)

Anyway, love you fanfics<3

asking for help from anybody who read LLG: if you read it and have any stake in Haunting for Beginners please help me generate a list of movies for the reader and Shigaraki to watch

Shigaraki Tomura: actually a nice and fair guy

The Rehabilitation of Death

Chapter 16: My Friend, The Sopping Wet Beast

With Heket's health progressing and the Harvest ritual setting the flock off in full bloom, Lambert prepares for the biggest festival in the century: a combination of a feast, bonfire, a follower's wedding, all while processing the newly developed change in theirs and Narinder's 'friendship'. Or really, the fact that the cat is now hesitating to disprove it as such. That alone is something new.

Narinder makes good on his promise, utilizing a heretic to open Anchordeep's door in a process Lambert gets to witness leading to a rather interesting conversation. The first crusade into Anchordeep is an impulsive one, and it's far too wet for the cat's liking. Lambert amuses themselves by trying to make the God of Death blink using the power of social mirroring and pushes their luck a little bit too far in playing.

Narinder's exasperation follows him into his sleep. Dreams remind him of a cycle he's put himself into. They are not gentle in handling his memories.

Read Tags/Author's Note for Warnings. Chapter Wordcount: 15,292

Camboy! Shigaraki

Shigaraki Tomura x Reader

CW: Smut, Minors DNI, I will block your ass. Exhibitionism, being filmed, spanking with a toy, nipple play, degradation.

AN: I tried to keep it pretty GN, if I missed something let me know. Because of this, I don't mention a hole specifically, so use your imaginations <3

~Darling XOXO

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who remains faceless the entire time he's on camera. He's the leader of an entire army, he can't have his entire being called into question because he likes the attention.

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who started this whole thing because he saw far uglier men on porn sites raking in hundreds of thousands of yen and for what? He knows he's better looking than at least half of them, and who ever complains about extra money?

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who holds that ideology but really, he loves the attention. He's such an attention slut that you throw enough money at him on stream and he'll do anything.

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who loves edging himself on stream because it's just a special kind of torture. Stroking up and down the shaft of his cock and watching it twitch with ever drag of his hand. Thumbing over the head just to collect the bulb of pre-cum already dripping out only to slather it in a slow circle and watch as the light sheens off of it. Reaching his other hand to squeeze his own balls because it feels so good and this is for him and him alone. Everyone watching is lucky that they get to experience such a thing.

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who is originally adamant on not bringing you on until Dabi makes a comment about how much more viewers money two person streams bring in. While Dabi was talking about two women streams, Shigaraki is already taking this idea and running with it.

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who teases the idea on stream for weeks just to garner his audience's opinions. He watches as the numbers start rolling in when he starts moaning about fucking you're tight little hole and leaving you a dripping mess for their pleasure.

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who reads every single comment he gets, about how people are blowing their loads to just the thought of watching anyone get fucked by his cock, whether it's them or not. People volunteering themselves, even if he knows nobody will ever reach your level.

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who's disgusted by the idea at first, but soon realizes what this mean. This isn't just a way to make money, or get all the attention he was deprived of as a child, no.

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who realizes this is a way to stake a claim. This is a way to absolute ruin his little whore in all the ways he's ever dreamed of and to send a message to everyone who's debauched enough to lose their shit over him of all people.

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who knows this will be a message that he's better than them in every single way. He has an army, he's the most wanted villain in Japan, he's dangerous and lethal, and yet he's still getting laid more than they are. That he has this perfect little cum sleeve waiting for him at the drop of a dime.

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who grows so hard at the thought on stream he's nearly breaking his thirty minute edging streak at the thought of absolutely wrecking you on camera and leaving you to moan his name for everyone to hear. Because he's the only one who gets to talk to you like this. He's the only one who gets to touch you like that. He's the only one who gets to fuck you and leave your whole gaping for his cock and his cock alone, after all, he's worked so hard to carve out a spot in you for his dick alone. For him to fuck and sully and leave flooded with his cum.

☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who doesn't need much more convincing after that.

Your head hurts.

His fingers are threading so close to the roots of your hair that a small part of your brain is firing off a number of warning signs that he could kill you then and there. The red flags are numbed and buzzed out by the euphoria of simply having him there. You can barely find yourself caring about his hands when the delicious stretch of his cock is filling you all over again. When the sound of his balls clapping against your ass cheeks is ringing in your ears over and over again.

When your eyes are focused on the lens of the camera in front of you. The red light is haunting in the sense that you know exactly what's being broadcasting. An audience of thousands, maybe more, is watching you get your back blown out with heavy drops of cum already dripping down your thighs.

Your back is arched nice and pretty for Tomura, with his one hand pinning you by your head and the other is too busy holding your hips, the only thing saving your life being the arch of his own pinkies to keep them from touching your delicate flesh. Sweat is coating your skin in an uncomfortable layer, but you can't even find it in yourself to care.

There's a chime and the sound effect of coins falling, and you whine out as the vibrators taped to your nipples light up once again. They buzz happily against your sensitive nubs and your entire body scrunches as you keen and shudder. The hand in your hair pulls slightly in a warning.

"Naughty slut." He hisses, low and deep and it sends your entire nervous system into a tizzy. "Gonna cum? I didn't say you could do that."

"'m sorry-" You gasp out, fingers tightening their gasp on the sheets beneath you. "Not gonna cum." You swear thought you can feel that neither of you truly believe that.

Tomura grants you a sliver of relief and stops moving.

The hand on your hip leaves and you're almost tempted to look back, but that's against the rules. So you don't.

You do let out a yelp of shock, or maybe pain, as the stiff surface of his paddle rockets against your awaiting ass cheek. You groan and clench and you can hear Tomura let out his own noise as the paddle lowers to rest it's cool face on the burning flesh of your ass.

"That's my good cum sleeve."

There's another chime and the returning noise of coins falling. The vibrators you hadn't even noticed had turned off come to life again. The paddle swings and your entire body clenches as euphoria runs through your veins, quickly followed by the shame of disobedience which ruins your orgasm before it can even finish.

Right after you feel the rush of warmth as another load of cum fills you more than you thought possible.

Another chime has you crying out in agonized glee.

Title: Life in Carnet

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: PG-13, fluff. F!reader

Time: after Overhaul, before PLF

Summary: An issue has developed. Though, you can’t say you mind much. The future is yours.

A/n: This was supposed to be much longer and I may still add a second part later on, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for much too long and I decided it was finally time to just post it and let it out into the world!

Masterlist guidelines

—

The terrors of the underworld were almost too much for you at times. Watching over your shoulder just to be sure a knight in shining armor wouldn't pop out and slice you under the guise of misplaced justice.

There was no justice in a world so cruel. The arms of the masses kept those unfavorable in a tube. Never to be loved, never to be seen or heard. Though that tube would grow, freaks of nature holding hands inside the vessel, ready to break the glass.

It was almost poetic, knowing that loneliness could never touch you, it could only stand by and watch as you desecrated its makeshift grave.

You were not lonely— and you never would be again.

The deadly hands of the misunderstood held you close, a warm embrace that shunned all the coldness and misfortune in the world. You were like royalty, standing above those who were nothing but pawns ready to die for the cause.

You were not ready to die, you had finally spread your wings— you were ready to live.

And who better to stand by your side than the King of demise, Tomura Shigaraki.

In his own way, he had become the very thing he hated most— a symbol of peace. He gave hope to those the world had shamed, giving a reason to live to the ones left to rot in the gutters.

Hero's couldn't save everyone— Hero's didn't want to save everyone. Anyone who goes against their morals is doomed to suffer.

It pained you to see the children left to die on the streets, the addicts that had been deemed lost causes, and the broken who were left to crumble. You could see a piece of yourself in all of them, their rose tented glasses had been shattered and they were left to cut themselves on the glass.

Tomura didn't care much for any of them, and yet he had still managed to replace that in which had been broken.

He cared for the league, for the posey he had created with his own two hands. And he cared for you. The woman he saw cursing the world with blood stained hands.

Your introduction to the league wasn't pretty. You were dirty and untamed— having just taken the life of someone you held dear— there was darkness in your eyes.

No one asked you questions, no one made you feel like a freak. You became their healer— using your quirk to its fullest potential, never once holding back.

Your ability was known as the 'Touch of life'. Originally, you had hated your quirk. Being pawned off from person to person, forced to heal strangers who saw you as an object more than a person. Growing up you weren't allowed to attend school, forced to stay home and work— not a dime going into your pocket.

People were supposed to want to help people. That's what you had been told over and over again. You couldn't complain, you couldn't fight back or refuse to help.

You didn't want to help anymore.

The league never made you heal their scrapes and bruises, only asking for your services when it was absolutely necessary. You finally felt free— free to be a real human being.

And then Shigaraki, a man usually so careful with his hands, had sliced his palm. You couldn't even remember how— the memory had long since faded away. You grabbed him without thinking, taking his entire hand into your own, stitching the skin back together with a ray of light.

That's how you learned you were immune to decay. Your body fighting against his quirk so quickly it was at if he didn't have one at all.

And that's how you learned you loved your quirk after all.

Once it became apparent, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. He was like a wild animal hunting its prey— a touch starved villain feeling for the first time.

He was gentle with you, holding you close, running his calloused hands up and down your sides, forever in awe at the feel of your skin on his own. Awkward and untamed, vibrating with uncertainty and longing for more.

His kisses felt like fireworks, they seared into your skin, dangerous and yet oh so wonderful. He was addicted to you, and soon enough you were just as addicted to him.

Your relationship had no title— though with the way his scared lips would trail up your throat, nipping and pleading— you were sure it was love just the same.

Regardless of the tender kisses and soft touches, Shigaraki was still a deadly man. The king of the underworld, the high ruler of chaos.

So when you saw those glaring, unforgiving, bright pink lines, you found yourself being swallowed whole.

Your body was shaking, from fear or joy you couldn't be sure. It was unrealistic to bring a child into the world, especially when that world was crumbling— when the father was the one crumbling it.

You couldn't hold back a smile though, your anxieties fading quickly at the thought of a future. Placing your life giving hands over your abdomen— it felt right. You finally— undeniably— felt whole.

Dabi was the first one to notice you after you'd left the makeshift restroom, his piercing blue eyes looking you up in down with a frenzy.

"You look creepier than usual."

The rest of the leagues eyes met your own, their own curious glances boring into your soul.

"I have no idea what you mean by that— but I feel like I should be offended." You mocked a scoff, cocking your eyebrow in amusement.

Toga laughed, sitting up straight and tapping the cold cement floor beside her, urging you to sit with her. "You do look a little brighter than usual!"

You took the invitation, a small smile still grazing your lips. It was impossible to fully contain yourself— you were sure you'd explode if you had to reel in all of your facial expressions.

"I just got some good news is all— I wouldn't worry about it."

"Did that 12 handed freak finally propose or something?"

A small snort left your lips, "No, not to my knowledge. Speaking of— where is he?"

"Ohhh, so it does have to do with him!" Toga wiggled her eyebrows, giggling to herself.

Your relationship with Shigaraki wasn't a secret. Neither of you had said anything to anyone, but you weren't actively hiding it either— it just was.

Giving the teen a gentle shove you allowed yourself to let out a soft laugh of your own, "doesn't everything have to do with him?"

You got a strong mumble of agreement from the group, their annoyed expressions almost making you laugh fully.

"He said he'd be back before nightfall." Dabi finally metered, "Then again, who knows?"

Humming in response you decided to sit tight, pulling a heavily water damaged book out of your backpack.

— — —

Somewhere along the pages of Prince Charming finally realizing the girl of his dreams was only a few feet away— you had dozed off.

It wasn't often you got the privilege of sleep, the constant traveling and change of pace was hard on your body and mind. So being shaken awake wasn't exactly something you'd normally let slide— but seeing those carmine eyes so full of worry, you decided it wasn't a hill worth dying on today.

"Good morning." You sighed, slowly blinking the harsh tingling of your sleep deprived eyelids away.

Tomura wasn't amused by your lackluster approach, his body basically caging you in from where you sat, his eyes growing darker by the second.

"How are you feeling?"

At first his question confused you— your dreams still drifting away as reality tried to take over. Oh yes, that's right— he'd known you hadn't been feeling well.

If you weren't so sleepy you'd probably be more embarrassed over the fact that you had in fact— only grabbed a handful of pregnancy tests and booked it out of the closest convenience store. You hadn't even tried to get anything else.

A giggle left your lips as you leaned forward and gave your captor a kiss on the cheek, "it's fine don't worry about it."

Sighing he shifted so he was sitting beside you, his hand immediately grabbing yours. He loved holding your hand— you weren't sure if it was just to remind himself that he could or if it was lasting deprivation from being touched starved for so many years— but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, so long as he never let go.

"You haven't been eating right."

It was a statement meant to guilt you, to force you to tell him every single thing that's been bothering you— to outline your sickness in a bullet point list so he could take care of you.

"Is that so?" You turned to him with a raised brow, daring him to continue on with his spiel.

He, ever so observant, took the bait and ran with it.

"You can't keep anything down, you're light headed, and you're way too exhausted for everything to be fine." His voice broke a bit at the end, and with good reason. Not being in good health while simultaneously living on the streets isn't exactly a good combo.

He cared about you too much to let anything bad happen. After dealing with the yakuza he'd slowed down entirely, refusing to move too fast or too far until he knew exactly what needed to be done— all because you weren't feeling good. He'd never say it out loud— but it was easy to tell.

"It's not something I'll die from, modern medicine will make sure of that."

Turning his head and looking you up and down, he had a borderline disgusted look on his face.

"You've been sick for how long now? And you've shown no signs of getting better."

You hummed, putting your hand on your chin and pretending to think. "Yeah I'd say it's been a good two months now."

"This isn't a joke."

Giving him a serious expression, you replied "I know it isn't, you definitely aren't going to think it's funny—the league might though."

He smacked his head against the back of the crate the two of you were leaning on, looking up at the broken ceiling. "So you are dying."

"I already told you I won't die." You punched his arm, "I'll just be out of commission for a little while."

"And what, exactly, does that mean?"

You let out a nervous laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder, "it means next time we go out we're gonna have to steal some prenatal vitamins."

You felt his body stiffen under you after a few minutes, his mind putting the dots together painfully slowly. This isn't exactly how you thought this conversation would go— though knowing Tomura, he'd never expected this conversation at all.

"Oh."

Afraid to see his expression, you kept your eyes towards the floor, squeezing his hand that was still wrapped in yours.

"Is that okay..?"

It was silent for a while, the sound of the other members snoring being the only noises keeping you sane. You knew this may not go over well, even as excited as you were, Tomura had an entire world to destroy, he had people to kill and a kingdom to build. How would a baby fit into that life?

Finally, you felt a large inhale from under you— taking that as permission you looked up to his face, surprised when you saw the fond look in his eyes and the soft smile on his lips.

"Yeah, that's more than okay."

You sat up, lifting your head off of his shoulder to look him directly in the eyes, awe, ever apparent, on your face.

"Really? You aren't mad?"

A dastardly grin made its way onto his face, his pearly white teeth glistening in the moonlight. Truly— it was a sight to behold.

"I don't see anything wrong with carrying on my lineage— especially not with you." He chuckled, a dark frenzy coming into his eyes, "besides, you hang back anyways, nothings going to hurt you."

You thought on his words. It was technically true, being a healer meant you weren't fighting so much as laying low and taking care of the aftermath— the only change you could see happening is you not being on the battlefield at all, staying at the base until they returned.

But that came with some risks on its own.

"You're taking this better than I thought you would."

That same gleam was in his eyes as he looked you over, his hands making their way around your waist as he pulled you into a tight embrace, inhaling the scent of your not-so-freshly washed hair.

"I suppose I should be nervous. But I always knew this was a risk." He took in a breath, a laugh passing through as he thought it over, "I'm ready for anything. I'm going to destroy this world, but that doesn't mean I can't make my own in the process."

The Tomura before you was different than the one you had fallen in love with. He was different than the one that pulled you off the street and gave you a reason to live— this Tomura was confident, this Tomura had a plan.

This Tomura knew what he wanted.

I made it with my cult of the lamb oc ✨

narilamb through #2

lamb: hey narinder !

Narinder *hiss*

(Yes just that. Thanks for reading)

what have i done

What would’ve happened if Theon (YellowCat)met/married(somehow) Leshy while he was still a bishop?

Theon as the disciple of Chaos.

Instead of being sacrificed from the begining he gets to join Leshy's faith first as a guardian and later becoming a disciple. He'd still be sacrificed in Leshy's name, but after many years of serving him and with the proper devotion.

Anon you gave me so many brainworms w that ask thank u

vitality | 1

Summary: You were always told heroes and villains had no place in your home.  Not when there’s an increase in crime, not when there’s monsters on the loose in Hosu and certainly not when the man in your home raises a hand to you.  All it takes is one impulsive decision to change your life forever. content: shigaraki tomura x female reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, reader has a quirk, graphic depictions of violence, past abuse, past sa, angst, pstd, eventual smut, found family LoV, mdni wc: 3.1k | chapter 2 | m. list | read on ao3

It’s been raining all day.

The cold droplets make your cheeks feel numb as you run along the sidewalk. The sky is a murky gray and your lungs are burning in a desperate attempt to regain air in them. There is blood on your clothes and none of it belongs to you. 

You don't know how long you’ve been at this but you know you cannot stop. There would be consequences if you stopped.

Your body would have to give out first. 

You chance a glance behind you and see there is no chase, there are no sirens and no angry mob following you but your body keeps moving.

You decide to take a sharp right turn into an upcoming alley and use that moment to catch your breath. Your chest heaves as you desperately inhale. The rain has soaked you to the bone and you just know that you’ll have a stuffy nose in the morning. Adrenaline is what you assume is keeping you going at this point — with the rate of your heart beating you're sure it’ll beat right out of your chest and leave you here in this dingy alley alone.

Even through the patter of the rain you could hear the footsteps of multiple people shuffling your way. 

You’re sure they’ve found you. Damn it, you shouldn’t have stopped.

You look around the alley and run to the grimy dumpster further down, hiding behind it and willing yourself to calm your breathing. 

Closing your eyes, you place a cold hand over your own mouth, praying it will quiet your own ragged breaths.

“C’mon, guys, let's be reasonable.” It's the voice of a man and it is not familiar.

He seems to be stepping closer, slowly. You creep closer to the wall and hope the footsteps cease. 

They do.

“Reasonable would be having your head for the shit you pulled on us, Giran.” A different voice, hostile. You're starting to think these people have nothing to do with you.

The guy, Giran, sounds weary, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m always good on my word.”

There’s another voice piping up now, denying his words, insisting that they were scammed. Between the rain and the men talking over each other it feels impossible to understand. You decide it's best to just wait this out, you’re sure they will finish soon and you can go back to figuring out your next move.

“Bullshit!” Someone yells and it startles you, pulling your attention back to the scene unfolding behind you.

The sound of a gunshot rings through the alley and you jolt in surprise, reflexively covering your ears as your heart stops in your chest. What the fuck was happening right now. Whatever Giran was going to say doesn’t make it far.

“Oh shit,” one voice panicks, “what the fuck did you do, dude!”

“You said we would get him back!”

“Not kill him, you fucking idiot!”

Your nerves are on fire as you hear the pair run off, leaving Giran groaning in pain and bloody.

You move fast, rushing from your place behind the dumpster to the wounded man. Giran was slumped against a wall, hand clutching his abdomen and breathing heavily. You don’t know what's compelling you to do this, so you blame it on the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. No one deserves to die here.

“Hey!” You yell out, an attempt to get his attention and keep him from slipping into unconsciousness. His brows lifted as his eyes met yours and you’re just glad this stranger is still breathing. “Let me help you.”

He only looks at you and you’re sure he’s fighting with all he has to hang on. You’re probably a sight to see yourself — clothes drenched in a mixture of blood and rain and eyes wild with panic.

You reach for his hand covering the bloody wound and he only presses tighter.

“Trust me.” You plead, meeting his eyes in desperation before trying again. Giran nods, moving his own hand and allowing you a chance to see the injury for yourself — blood was everywhere and given the rain you had no clear view. You shoot him a pointed look once more before going for his shirt, lifting it and exposing his stomach and bloody wound. You could work with this. 

Your hands were freezing cold, but you willed yourself through it, bringing both to hover over his abdomen and focusing. Giran watched the soft green glow emit from your hands and wash over his wounded abdomen, his wound healing from the inside out. Raindrops drip from your hair and down your nose, yet you focus until the injury is gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. 

Giran sighed, resting his head on the brick wall behind him, muscles relaxing and breath stabilizing.

“You’re a healer.” He speaks, voice hoarse and winded.

You nod, bringing your hands back and looking at the grovel below, “yeah, something like that.”

A silence falls over the both of you, the rain continuing to seep its cold into your bones. It's almost time to face your reality again. Time to get up and move.

“What are you doing out here, kid?'' Giran speaks again, voice gaining more clarity as he stabilizes from the events before. 

What are you doing out here? Where even is here? You weren’t paying attention while you ran — there was only the urge to get away and get away as fast as you could. 

“I...” you look down at your clothes clinging to your form and drooping lower than they should due to the onslaught of rain. Not even the rain could wash away the blood staining the cotton material. Whatever may have gotten on your face could be washed away, but you’re unsure. “I don’t know.” You finish, chancing a glance at Giran. 

He looks to you before taking a moment to stand, finally gaining composure and taking a slow breath.  

You follow suit, ready to go the other way, never see this man you saved again. 

“I owe you one, kid,” Giran starts again, adjusting his glasses, and you begin to protest. He cuts you off, “Those crooks almost killed me. Really, at least let me get you someplace warm.” he insists and you stare for a moment, you were unsure of your next move anyway. 

You nod, “alright.”

—---------

Giran takes you to an underground bar. One where the lighting is low and there aren't many people around. You’ve never been to a bar before, but you’re sure this one had bad news written all over it.

Even so, you don't feel afraid. The bar had a bathroom where you could dry off better and there was even spare clothes in the lost and found. You were finally able to get the rain soaked clothes off and wipe away the red staining your face as well. It was miles better than what you had before. 

Now you were sat across from Giran as he lit his cigarette, taking a drag and exhaling it to the side. 

The harsh smell of nicotine flooded the area and you bit back the scrunch of your nose as you stuffed your face with chips from the bar. Once your adrenaline settled, the feeling of hunger was overwhelming. 

“So,” you're midbite when Giran speaks, breaking the silence, “what were you doing out there, kid?”

You force your food down and ponder your answer. There was no reason you shouldn’t trust Giran right now, but—

The splatter of blood crosses your mind, accompanied by a memory of glass breaking that makes you shiver and you decide that no, you couldn’t share this.

“I…” you can’t meet his eyes, “I got lost.”

Giran taps the ashes from his cigarette and sucks his teeth. “Lost, huh?” He raises a brow, “where are you from, then? You were covered in blood, and not all of that belonged to me, so what’s your deal – are you some kind of hero?”

You vehemently shake your head, “no, no. I’m not a hero.” You anxiously pick at the loose sem in the sweater, “I’m nobody. Not anymore.”

“You’re a healer, people would kill for a quirk like that.” He takes another drag, blowing the smoke and pointing to you, “what is it you were running from?”

There were tears welling in your eyes and you wished this conversation could be over. The reality of the situation setting in. “I hurt someone. Bad.”

“Can’t be that bad since you can heal ‘em, right?”

You’re quiet. Flashes of what occurred hours ago flooding your memory. It feels so far away. So foggy. “No. No, I didn’t heal them.” Your fists tighten in your lap. “I hurt them and then I left. I ran away and now I’ll never go back.”

Giran looks you over for a bit before tapping the excess ash from his cigarette. “Well, since you need somewhere to go and you have a pretty sick quirk, I think I have the perfect place for you.” 

—---------

The dark corridors Giran leads you through feel endless and you can’t help but wonder if he’s leading you into a trap of some kind. You thought the bar before was shady, but wherever the hell he was taking you seems to be much worse. 

There was no elaboration on where you were going, just an absent trust me and promises that you would be safe and taken care of here. Promises that no one would look for you or find you here. You sigh, out of options and desperate. He had no reason to lie to you, but it still gave you an uneasy feeling. 

“This guy,” Giran’s voice catches your attention, “Can seem like kind of a brat, but he’s good on his word.”

It’s as if he could feel your restless thoughts and you only purse your lips, glancing at him and then back forward, noting a large metal door coming into view. 

You can't fight the lump of dread in your stomach but you try to put on a brave face as the screech of the heavy metal door fills the corridor. It led to another bar — this one looking more… normal. Empty, quiet and even quaint. 

The only occupants being a shadow-like figure of a man, dark cloudy whisps covering his face and hands and another, younger man dressed in all black and sporting what looked like a pale blue hand covering his face like a mask.

“Giran,” the man spoke, voice raspy and sharp. He couldn’t have been much older than you, maybe younger. “What have you brought us today?”

The man in question smiled, gold tooth glimmering in the low light of the bar. “Something special.” 

You couldn’t see much of the man’s face beyond the hand, but you could see the glint of interest in his red eyes. 

“Is that so…” he turns his attention to you, “what’s your name?” 

His gaze gives you goosebumps and you turn to Giran, seeking some kind of reassurance, but the boy speaks again, “Don’t look at him. I’m the one talking to you.” 

It shakes you, but you snap your attention back to him and tell him your name. 

“And why are you here?” 

You don’t know. You have no idea why Giran brought you here and you don’t even know who this guy is. How could you hope to answer that with no information?

Giran steps in before you can make a retort, “she’s here because I think you could get a lot of use out of her, Shigaraki.”

 Shigaraki’s gaze never leaves yours. “Oh, yeah? What’s your quirk?”

You bite your lower lip, you didn’t expect this to be an interview of some kind. Shigaraki looks impatient, tapping a finger on the bar beside him. You swallow your nerves and speak, “My quirk is called Vitality – I can heal others and myself.”

“That’s a rare find, Giran, even for you.” Shigaraki crossed his arms, interest successfully piqued. 

Giran huffs a laugh, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag. “Yeah, well, she kind of found me.”

You steal a look at Giran, the smoke leaving his lips as he speaks. Shigaraki doesn’t say anything, his silence seemingly urging Giran to continue. “This one here saved my life yesterday. Some hothead shot me and she rushed in and healed me. I’m good as new.”

Shigaraki scoffs, tone sardonic and cruel, “Wow, how heroic of you.”

It feels like you’ve made the wrong choice, like the idea of saving someone was foolish and wrong. You acted on instinct — no one deserved to die there.

“So, what’s your deal, then? The heroes would kill to have you on their side. Why are you here?”

“I don’t care about the heroes,” it’s the truth, you want nothing to do with their flashy shows of power and silly displays of heroism. “I couldn’t care less for it.”

You see Shigaraki’s eyes narrow through the fingers of the hand on his face. “So you’re one of Stain’s followers, then?”

Who? You didn’t keep up with that kind of stuff. You vaguely remember seeing the news articles about some crazed villain, but you have had your own villain to deal with. Nothing else mattered. 

This was beginning to frustrate you. All the questions, all the prying — who cares about any of this stuff? You don’t even know where you are!

“I’m not familiar with him. I don’t care for any of it.” You couldn’t help but hear the question ring in your head again. 

Why are you here?

“I don’t,” you start up again, voice catching in your throat. “I don’t have a home to go back to.” 

The memory of glass breaking and blood splattering crosses your mind, running away in the rain clouds your thoughts, yet you continue, “I don't know what lies ahead for me, I don't have a future anymore. I just happened to stumble upon Giran.” 

Shigaraki is quiet for a moment. You have to force yourself to refrain from squirming under his gaze. 

“Show me.”

Your eyes snap to his, “What?”

“Show me your quirk.'' His voice is firm and unwavering. You’re looking at him to see if you could find any injury or even bruises but from your distance you cannot. It's not until Shigaraki pulls the already loose collar of his shirt down over his shoulder and you see it. There’s a large bandage on his shoulder and your steps falter a bit – not expecting him to expose so much skin so easily.

You swallow, uneasiness buzzing through your veins as you watch him remove the bandage and expose a gash on his shoulder. It looks recent, but you can't tell from this distance, so you move towards him. 

The closer you get, the more you notice the finer details of the man. His ashen hair looks soft up close and his dark shirt does little to hide the lithe muscle underneath. It’s like walking into the cage of a wild tiger, sitting and waiting for its perfect moment to grab you.

He notices your hesitation and sucks his teeth, “I don’t have all day.” 

You swallow your nerves and continue on. The closer you get, the more clearly you can see the scars on his neck as well. Not as bad as the gash on his shoulder, but still noticeable. You try not to steal too long of a glance and reach out, slowly — ready to heal him. 

The wound doesn’t seem to be very deep so you only use one hand, a seafoam green glow emitting and covering his injury. 

Shigaraki inhales slowly, feeling the relieving effects of your quirk healing him from the inside out. It doesn’t take long, the wound was already in the process of recovering before so this was more minor than you thought. You pull away once you were sure his shoulder was back to normal, taking a cautious step back from the man before you. 

His attention is on Giran as he rolls his shoulder, flexing out all the previous tension and sighing in relief. 

“Something like this isn’t easy to come by, Giran. What’s your price?”

Price, he says. Like you’re cattle, as if you’re some kind of product to be shipped off and traded. It makes you feel low. 

Giran shrugs, smile pliant on his face and cigarette hanging loosely in his mouth. “No price. I told you – I owe this kid my life. Just make sure she’s safe and fed and we’ll call it even.” 

Shigaraki still seems to be skeptical because he stands to his feet and you take another step back from him. His form is tense and you have to fight the urge to run to the door behind Giran. Shigaraki is taller, even with his slouched posture, and the sinking feeling in your stomach only grows as you anxiously watch for his next move. 

You vaguely register the man engulfed in dark clouds calling Shigaraki’s name — a warning in his tone. 

Giran raises a hand, smile never faltering. “Seriously. Eye for an eye.” He cocks his head, “But I’m not opposed to additional payment, if that’s what you want.” 

It's a joke, one that the man before you does not find funny. He stands up straighter, “Whatever. Fine, we’ll take her in.” 

You’re unsure if this is something you should celebrate or ease your way out of, but Giran seems to take it well. An honest smile gracing his features as he looks back to you, “You hear that, kid? You're in.” 

Shigaraki turned to the shadowlike man behind the counter, “Kurogiri, prepare a room for her.” 

Kurogiri nods and makes his way from behind the bar, you assume you should follow, but this was… a lot to take in. If they were to take you in then you wont ask too many questions. As long as you could lay low and keep to yourself then things would be fine. This wouldn’t have to be forever, just long enough to get yourself together and make your next moves. 

You find solace in that thought as you walk past Giran — sending you an amiable wave as you trail behind Kurogiri. 

Shigaraki stays behind in the bar and you’re thankful, his demeanor doesn’t seem like one you would like to be around for long periods of time. 

There’s a brief moment when you're passing Shigaraki. His eyes meet yours and you notice the shine in them, a glimmer of covet curiosity so quick you almost miss it. 

And you can’t help but wonder what exactly is it you’ve just gotten yourself into.

narilamb through #2

lamb: hey narinder !

Narinder *hiss*

(Yes just that. Thanks for reading)

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.

Why do people refer to the fusion at the UA battle and war arc as Tomura?

"I can't believe Tomura killed Bakugou" but he didn't though. That was AFO. AFO possessed his body and then stabbed and killed Bakugou

Like maybe you could say it was both of them at UA, they were a mix of each other at the time, but Tomura was not the only one wrecking shit from in there

Even Izuku gets it right, telling AFO to shut up in the war arc, addressing AFO in the UA battle, yet the fandom seems to just ignore this

Yea 💀😂 but you get the idea

What if we could lay an egg with narinder ?

Please if any developper see this, let us repopulate the lambs ! (And f*ck with narinder 👉👈)

Hello narilamb nation *explode*

Close up:

Here's one without the lighting:

What if we could lay an egg with narinder ?

Please if any developper see this, let us repopulate the lambs ! (And f*ck with narinder 👉👈)

Narilamb part2:

Okay okay, this time its less canon but imagine the lamb opening the bar and narinder take a drink but then is posess(idk how to spell it preperly i'm french sorry). The lamb do his best to find him in dongeon and when he finaly find him punish him from drinking whitch of course frustrate Narinder but hey, he couldn't just let his favorite ex god be posses again and have to kill him !

guys i dont think its a bit anymore

doodles i did in art stream a few days ago for later fic stuff

also: dream lamb/narinder

Reblog if you talk to your fictional lover when you’re alone