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lethargicsunlight · 3 years ago

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Dabi XSpookyQuirk!Reader 'No Happy Endings' (Part 16)

First of all, THANK YOU FOR READING!

Due to the shear amount of 'Parts' to this series, I will be doing some overall organizing moving forward.

In short, this will be the last part of this series. (Read all the way to the end to see an epilogue ;) )

I never expected this story to go as far as it has, but I've loved the entire trip of it. It's nice to let loose and just write how I want to and what I want to, and this story in particular is an example of that shear joy. I hope everyone continues to follow along, to see where our SpookyQuirk!Reader ends up! <3

Read the other parts here: LINK

Join the Tag List here: LINK (leave a comment here or there)

WARNINGS: Spicy themes, Spooky vibes, a little fluff, not edited. The usual.

Neither you or the League could have anticipated the consequences soon to come from your appearance in their latest squabble with the pro-heroes of Japan.

The Hero Commission had released statement after statement, making presumptuous claims about your quirk being 'illusionary' 'nightmarish scare tactics'.

But the people of Japan had a different perspective.

Similar to the rise of Stain's cultish followers, the demonstration of your power inspired unlikely questions and investigations among civilians--some of which recognized the ghosts you'd temporarily made corporeal. Names and pictures were compared to the apparitions, staking allegations against the Hero Commission for their attempt of crowd control through manipulating the truth, and not being transparent.

After your 'audience' with All for One, you'd returned to the League's base with a numbness in your chest and glaze over your vision. Dabi, still coping with his dimensional feelings on the matter, stayed in your shadow. Close enough to open doors, provide meals, and ground you to the room--but far away enough that he seemed hesitant to touch. Considering the revelations that seemed to just keep playing on the damn T.V. in the lobby, the two of you had little alone time.

The news had become a constant noise. The lights of the television would dance across Shigaraki's features as he leant in with hands folded over his chin, elbows on his knees, constantly evaluating the public view and figuring out how to manipulate it. He'd task one or two people with something, an errand or espionage, and send them out. Small and inconspicuous things, like listening to rumors in dark places.

But, not you.

"You need to lay low a while." Shigaraki had warned, eyeing you over the back of the couch. "Even other villains are going to seek you out right now. To ask questions, maybe try to use you."

He turns back to the screen, skin a little smoother than usual, his hand apparatus missing from over his face. "We can't let them have you."

You had stared at the back of his head for a while, feeling strange in the air of it all. For once, you really didn't mind being cooped up at the base--the outside felt foreign now. But some kind of hurt tugged at your heart, reminding you that you remained more of an asset than a friend to him and his superior. Though, even if that were to change, you doubted it would be something Shigaraki would verbalize.

Twice had a tendency to linger. Objectively different than Shigaraki, he was both rude and not-rude about wanting to be in your presence for extended lengths of time, and admitted it verbally. Accompanying you and Dabi to the kitchen to eat, sitting nearby in the lobby, offering to fetch things. Compress, Toga, and Spinner too had spent a few mornings discussing everything before going away to work, patting your shoulders awkwardly and expressing delight on how you'd really become 'a part of the League'. (They were also particularly interested in their new resident ghost: Haga, whom now lingered in a cleared out basement of the building. You've promised to decorate it for him, for as long he decided to stay.) The last week had been hectic and moving, filled with strange emotional conversations and observations--mostly to do with you.

However, this particular morning, with your hands wrapped around a beverage, the kitchen is suspiciously empty.

And, you take that time to dwell. To, marinate in everything that had happened all too fast.

It makes you smile.

Not for having changed the public view, not for having expressed your abilities to a large audience and feeling validated in the face of it (though, you won't lie, that's kind of nice too), but for the strange and awkward and wonderful assurances of the League. Of your friends.

Like you, their social skills had suffered in the shadow cast by society--but unlike society, you didn't have to interpret their emotions through verbal or even non-verbal communication. With a flip of a switch, you knew.

And joy was a vibrant yellow.

Something like static over your left shoulder draws you out of your daydreams, followed by a hand grazing your upper arm. Instinctively, you lean into the warmth with your eyes closed and your crown meet's the rivets of Dabi's coat. There's a warm hum that comes from his chest, and the comfort of it is immense.

"Good morning." You say, almost accusing, searching for him as your eyes reopen.

"Mm," is his response, as he dips down to rub his nose into your hair. "Finally, no one's fucking around this morning.."

You grin, a tingle of excitement running down your spine at his closeness. Your eyebrows cinch in, and you lift away to turn towards him proper, examining him. He moves back just enough, expression unreadable.

You want to comment on his hesitancy with you, but you're also afraid to ruin the moment.

"You're looking good." You say, reaching out toward him. He seems to flex a moment with indecision, before leaning in so your index could trace the flesh above the staples in his cheeks.

"Good huh?" He asks, mocking, with a new and steady grin. "You do too, I guess."

You roll your eyes, "I meant, you're healing well. You look amazing."

His eyes light up a little unexpectedly, but his grin begins to fade out. One of his hands chases yours, fingers teasing at your wrist. "Y/n." He says it like he's addressing you, formally. Your heart skips in your chest, though you're unsure why.

He leans forward. Expecting a kiss (long overdue), you close your eyes.

But his face moves to the side, and you can feel the cooled metal of his staples as they graze your brow-bone. Instead, his lips meet your ear, "You don't have to stay.." He whispers, and now his fingers shift up so his thumb is in your palm. He wraps your hand up, pulling it to his chest. "You can still get away from all of this."

Despite how serious his questions were, you chuckle.

He draws back, brows set. "I'm serious." He says, expecting you to freeze.

But you shake your head, "So am I. What gave you the impression I was afraid?"

"You…" His voice drifts, "I didn't mean you were. But this--this situation isn't good for you. I mean, the League and I yeah, but All for One?" He shakes his head, "He's got shit going on in Shiggy's brain that I don't really much care for, especially anything to do with you."

"And how are you different?" You ask, voice level. Even you had been asking those questions, seeking those apprehensions in the past week or so.

"Being different isn't the point. Being in very real danger is the point."

"We've always been in danger; every time we step outside, and it just keeps getting worse." You shrug, "Yes, sure, you're right. I could run away. Hide, you know, like I used to."

He blanches a bit, mouth producing a thin line.

"Or, I could be right here." And you swallow as emotions begin to choke you. "I could be right here, standing for something, being someone. Even if that means I'm 'Necromancer', or whatever, and I'm a big scary villain; just like you."

You move yourself forward, breaking the connection between your hands so your chest is flush with his instead. "I may deal in ghosts Touya, but I've never felt more alive then I do right now."

Brightness returns to his eyes. A boyishness you remember, one night in the street, with flames engulfing the scenery in his anger. The spirit of the fire you dreamed so much about, with smoke in your lungs and embers sizzling in your veins. It's painful, the hurt, the suffering--but pain means you're alive. And though he wouldn't be brave enough to say it right now, you'd managed a similar effect upon him; in resurrecting the perished version of himself, the one lost on the mountain he'd turned to cinders that night so long ago. Touya.

And Touya, the child, had been so deprived of what you offered. Not a night of sin, but a life of care. A life, no matter how short, of your fiery and argumentative spirit that inspired change within him, that forced alternative perspectives and made the world feel bigger, brighter. The selflessness he'd never experienced--that which caused him to contemplate pushing you away so many times--was not exclusive to heroes. It was exclusive to love.

There are no happy endings for villains. You were going to be in danger, just as he was, and though he had yet to fulfill his aspirations--part of him simply didn't care. The world could burn outside that room, and he wouldn't care. Ten minutes of bliss would be worth eternal damnation as far as he was concerned. He just needed to reach out and grab it; be selfish again, with you. Happy, with you.

A grin breaks out across his face, stretching the staples. "You're right." His arms cage you suddenly, pulling in as he steps backwards. You gasp, but laugh with the break in tension. A few more steps back and his arm leaves your waist, going behind him--to lock the kitchen door.

"We are villains. Both of us.." He draws you in tighter, lips catching on your jaw. "So fuck everybody else.."

You shiver, temperature rising to hellishly warm. "Dabi--" He shifts back, a finger going to your mouth. He prods your lower lip, "Touya." He corrects you with one hot breath. "Call me Touya."

Though, he expected this bliss to last much longer than ten minutes; much to the chagrin of anyone who might want a morning coffee.

Epilogue:

"I don't trust him."

You peer at Touya over your shoulder, still crouched behind the ruined brick of an abandoned school building. "What?" You ask, not completely aligned with the topic of his conversation. Your brain was still fuzzy from walking around in your 'spirit form'.

"Hawks."

Oh. At the mention of it, you turn your head to see the League's Pro-hero agent high in the sky, surveying the area. "You think he's playing us?"

"I don't know." He adjusts his coat, rolling up the sleeves to combat the heat. "Crusty trusts him, but--shit he's turning back."

Angling in the air like a falcon, Hawks descends at an alarming speed. He lands somewhere nearby and uses the building's remnants as cover to make his way to the two of you. He does a little wave, a sign everything was clear, and you both stand to approach him.

"Hey you two," He shoves his hands into his pockets, slouching a little. "I got a lay of the land, looks like you're free to roam. I'd take a look due east, I think a lot of the damage took place there."

"Thanks." Touya says quickly, "That all?"

Hawks blinks a few times, "Yeah. That's all. I mean, I would totally keep a look out for you guys--but being gone for too long might get a little suspicious."

"Right, got it. You're free to leave."

Something about Touya's tone hinted he might actually be happier of Hawks did leave.

"Well hold on, let me take a break first," Hawks holds his hands up, then twists to start stretching one of his arms. A wing follows the motion in the opposite direction.

Touya turns away, heading further into the rubble. "Yeah whatever."

"Besides," Hawks continues, eyes drawing towards you. "I want to see what the fuss is all about. I heard you could summon ghosties, right?"

You can hear when Touya's footsteps cease, kicking pebbles up with his boots.

"Uh-" Feeling the air shift, you try to dodge the question. "It's, well--"

"You know, the news really made it sound scary. But you're not really scary at all. I bet it's pretty cool to see--"

"No." Is Touya's resounding answer, to no question in particular, as his hand suddenly braces your arm and starts dragging you away.

#dabi x reader #dabi x spookyquirk!reader #dabi fluff #touya x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #league of villains #dabi x gn reader #@lionheart2318 #@leahvengeance-blog #@chandiewashere #@peculiarinsomniac #@phoenixkd #@thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch #@lascivious-jaz #@suhncity #@onebatch--twobatch

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chandie-washere · 3 years ago

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hi, i'm also @chandiewashere ; think of this as my crack blog lol

ily💜

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ms0milk · 7 months ago

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HYMN HIATUS this week || ASK GAME TIME !

Moving across the globe is, once again, a total ******* and I can’t give chapter edits appropriate attention. Instead: Hymn ask game :)

You Tell Me!

1. What would your life look like if you lived in Takoba/Aldera? (htbw oc realness 💅🏽)

2. What is the most ridiculous moment for you from this story so far?

3. How is it all gonna end?

4. Horniest/randomest/most irreverent hcs for any supporting character?

5. Wildcard❗️any thought at all

Pom Tells You!

6. “Who/When/Where/What was going on in [_] scene?” Any moments of total confusion?

7. “Pom, wtf were you thinking about while writing [_]?” Development questions?

8. Favorite characters to write for/themes to explore?

9. Deleted scenes?

10. Wildcard‼️ any thought at all

my lovely and patient tagged angels ! @ltadoriyuujl / @cherripunch26 / @chandiewashere / @sakurarr1122 / @ihavefixations-and-onehiccup / @juni-does-art / @romiinlove / @todorokiskitten / @zukowantshishonourback / @phoenix-draws77 / @starryparkrr / @misscaller06 / @420mitskilover / @kalulakunundrum / @the-omnipotent-phlowr / @butterscotch-ripple-icecream / @cutiepatoodie / @catsoupki / @acid-rain27 / @sky-angel101 / @flyhighinthesky / @hurtfulhore / @ashers-playpen / @kakabskbskdnd

#sorry for the postponed updated - know that my appreciate for you is boundless #and your love is the only thing moving this fuckin plot forward #a hymn to black water

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darlingdaiki · 3 years ago

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taglist: @emotional-zebra @rntrsuna @iwasunshine @boosyboo9206 @gabiisdone @roselleviennesstuff @queenadri1 @shoyotime @xfangirl-trashx @keith-inyourhouse @kissyomi @tinyegg @hallothankmas @sugaslilsugabby @loeysehunie @bongofrito @ssuna @therealpussybangs @mxraincoat @sunniewrites @keijinn @kawaii-angelanne @passionateuchiha @youraggedybitch @amarinthe @tendo-sxtori @fxckingshame @fictionsbitch @mushitalia @listenhereyousupernova @akugyu @melsuki @ohsto @kiyunas @01ratcave @celioderso @eraclealol @chandiewashere @mgz01 @you-can-stay-mp3 @greyrain23 @suhnnyskiess @kaleshima @pikane @hoothootreiber @jeannie-beannie @tetsukentona

highlights!

⇢ yams begged yachi to let him cat-sit while she's away ⇢ y/n n bo are super close but she's still not 100% comfy asking for favors :3 ⇢ yams is the only uni student, while the others get their income from yt! ⇢ let's pretend the timestamps aren't from two months ago oops

꒰ 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐒 ꒱

↳ being roommates with bokuto is fun enough as it is, but sharing it on youtube definitely makes life with him a hell of a lot more interesting. when a prank war ensues between the two of you, you attract more of the media’s attention, gaining you more fans and onlookers in the process. who knew a mere prank war could cause such a commotion?

TWO┊PART THREE┊NEXT

join the taglist!

ʚĭɞ rbs and interaction always appreciated! ʚĭɞ

#prank wars

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lethargicsunlight · 3 years ago

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Dabi X SpookyQuirk!Reader "Haunting" (Part 13)

Heyyo!ヽ(‘ ∇‘ )ノ

For those of you still along for the ride, thank you for Reading!

If you're interested, I now have a tag-list started for this series! Comment or DM me if you would like to be added!

Read the other parts of this series here: LINK

WARNINGS: SFW. Ghosts/Spirits, spooky, slow burn

━━━━━━━━━𝕯𝖆𝖇𝖎 ━━━━━━━━━

"He asked everyone for help?"

"Yeah."

"At the cemetery?"

"Yeah."

You press your less-than-corporeal hand to your forehead, smiling at the ground as you and the grunge-teen ghost traverse the park in the direction of said cemetery.

"So--" You pause to take a breath, despite the fact it isn't needed, "Did you, I mean, how did you get here so fast?"

He shrugs. "I walked."

You look up at the sky then. It was dark, definitely night, but like the ground and the air in this side of the world--it was gently hazed over. Like everything was covered in a fine layer of smoke.

"Oh gosh, it's... it's been hours.."

"Yeah."

You give him a droll stare, but you swear in the way he shifts that he's hiding a knowing smile. No doubt, this pattern of one-to-two word answers had been his way of annoying adults while he was alive--and you were entertainment.

It sparks a bit of humor in you too. You had been a little like him once.

"Okay, so, what was your name again?" You wince at asking the question, but his face doesn't change as he responds.

"Kiyoshi Haga." He tilts his head a bit to show one eye, "Call me Haga."

"Got it. So um," You awkwardly wave a hand around, "This is my first time actually being here, is there anything I should know? Usually when I ask from the other side, everyone's pretty secretive honestly."

Haga bears you yet another shrug, "I mean, you've got the gist of it right here. Walking around or walking through things." He gives it a pause while the two of you cross a street at the other side of the park. Not that either of you had to wait for any walking signals, but the cars that pass through you are still pretty loud.

"But," that famous word, "I guess it doesn't hurt to say, since you are technically dead.."

You had been momentarily distracted watching a cat tempt fate while crossing the busy street along side you when he regains your full attention. "Tell me what?"

"About the other things." He leans in a little, expression dramatically dark. "Other things."

You squint at him, "What like--there are things that exist here that aren't ghosts?"

"Well duh. I mean, you've been through basic history right?"

"Of course," You say it almost defensively.

"Then, you know there's tons of supernatural stuff that people talked about long ago. I mean, obviously a lot of it was wrong or made-up, but--I mean, this exists, right?"

"Right.."

"Well, they weren't wrong about everything. Sometimes weird stuff happens around here. No one likes to talk about it though, like there's some kind of superstition that if you talk about it, it starts coming around."

"Are you telling me that ghosts have superstitions right now?"

"Unfortunately." He drones, "I think it's mainly for the ones that's been around a while though."

"...And what about you?"

"I don't believe it. I think those things happen for a reason."

Really coming out of his shell, you think to yourself. He seems brighter, maybe even more alive. Figuratively of course.

"Mm. And the 'weird things that happen', what does that look like?"

"Like.." He stops in his stride to pull his hands up. "We look like how we died right? Well, sometimes there are ones that look like tall, dark, featureless things. I thought maybe they were like the ones that, you know, get smooshed or whatever--but they also don't sound right. They aren't puddles of blood either."

If you could have a chill up your spine, you would've.

"That sounds really creepy."

"I don't know. It's kind of cool to me." He starts walking again with a grin.

"Wait, Haga--you don't go looking for those things, do you?" You catch up, actually feeling a little concerned.

"Well yeah. I mean it's kind of boring here otherwise. Why do you think everyone in the cemetery was so active when you came around?"

"That sounds dangerous."

"Uh--you must be forgetting--I'm already dead."

"Yeah but, there's something beyond this, isn't there?"

"Maybe." He shrugs, again. "They say so."

"They?"

He gives you an agitated look. This wasn't his favorite topic, obviously. "The ones that 'move on', as the oldies say. They get all big and bright and then fade away, forever."

"...Don't you want to do that?"

"I can't." He grumbles, receding back into his little gothic turtle shell. "I asked one before they left and they said something about their purpose being fulfilled or whatever. It's a 'feeling', they say. And, I certainly haven't had it. Whatever that feels like."

"You know, if this works out and I can get back into my body, I could help you with that." You offer, trying to sound gentle.

He's silent for several moments. So long, you question if he heard you--and further questioned if you'd made the wrong choice in asking. But eventually:

"I don't know. Maybe. I'll think about it."

----

Dabi sat sprawled on the ground next to your body, head leaned against a tombstone. His eyes opened at the sound of Twice's steps as they crunched through the dead leaves, and the reminder of his situation causes him pain upon waking.

He had so hoped this had all been a nightmare.

"I brought some stuff for your.. wounds." Twice announces, while Dabi lazily wipes at an eye.

"Yeah..?"

"There was a gas station nearby. Grabbed a first aid kit." "I grabbed us some booze!"

With an airy chuckle at that, Dabi shifts his position to sit more upright. "Thanks."

"...Don't mention it." "Yeah whatever."

Twice offers to help and Dabi is reluctant at first, but eventually they are both working to clean up the new burns and adjust his staples. It was something Twice had never had the pleasure of doing, or even really seeing up close. As villains, as broken individuals more like, everyone liked to keep their space--and especially Dabi.

Twice glances at your body. You look peaceful, and it reminds him of how you looked sitting on the couch in the bar, dozing off when Shigaraki wasn't around.

If not for you, Twice figured he would never have known his comrade in this way. Like a friend, and not a coworker. You had somehow become an invisible link, drawing everyone together, even when you were quiet most of the time. But maybe that quiet, that patience, had been all they really needed in life.

"How long--"

"As long as we need to." Dabi's answer cuts him off, voice gravelly and tense.

'Friends' though they may be, it certainly hadn't changed anyone's personality. Twice is reluctant to object--but they couldn't stay in this cemetery forever.

Still, it was best not to test the League's personal cremation machine while he was undergoing pain and distress. He'd try again in the morning; one night in the cemetery wouldn't hurt.

But Twice would be lying if he said he believed Dabi's plan would work.

After wetting his whistle on the bottle of cheap whiskey--and just enough to do so and not slur his speech--Dabi once again rises up among the tomb stones, and begins bargaining with the empty air to find you, save you, and bring you home.

----

It was well on into the night, morning rather, when you and Haga finally came upon the entrance sign of the cemetery.

You found yourself wanting to hesitate. Basking in a few more seconds of uncertainty before you would be diving into the truth of whether you could return to the living or not.

It would be torture, you realize, to see his face only to learn you were truly and finally dead.

"Well?" Haga asks, but it's gentle instead of sharp. And maybe he was sad too, for both outcomes.

You had learned (by persistently prying) that Haga had died from some form of overdose. You had gone so far as to stereotypically assume it was a successful suicide attempt--but he humbled you. The event was an accident.

Wanting to learn more, but also not wanting to offend the only help you really had on this side of existence, you stopped there. He was really starting to grow on you. Like the boy, Jo, from the cemetery you had worked at; there was a special type of sympathy you reserved for those who died prematurely.

"Sorry." You finally say, clearing nothing from your throat but doing it anyway. "Let's go."

He follows a few steps behind as you lead them in, going to the farthest edge where you had practiced your quirk. Where, seen as a languid shadow from across the field veiled in blue flame, Dabi stood.

Even while a thousand emotions ran through you at the sight of him, you still wondered what the hell he was doing awake this late. Especially wounded.

All for you.

Your approach is quicker. In fact, you approach much quicker than your real body would be able to--and the realization is startling, but just a bit overwhelmed by the moment at hand.

"Dabi?" You ask, making it to his and Twice's vicinity--though, Twice was very much asleep against the backing of a tombstone.

You don't receive an answer. Instead he turns, facing you but not seeing you, with an ember of cerulean flame in his palm. It simultaneously lights up his features and tears your ethereal heart out.

He looked terrible. Fresh burn scars stretched a few inches above the staples. His eyes technically couldn't sag, for that was scar too, but they were sunken and dark and heavy. His hair, now white, had gone wet from dew and hung over his brow the same way his shoulders seemed hung over his bones. The amount of blood on his shirt and jacket collar was unnerving. You'd have argued that he looked as close to death as you.

Upon that reminder, you visually search for your physical body and find it a few feet away--delicately laying upon the ground with your hands placed on your stomach as though you were asleep.

"I hope it works."

Haga's voice actually startles you, causing your head to whip around and find him. After he gets close enough, you reach out and brush his shoulder.

"Me too. But I couldn't thank you enough for bringing me here. Even if it doesn't."

He gives a nod and a little side grin. "Well, I mean.. this is the most excitement I've had since. Well. Dying." He says it with a little signature shrug, but it's a punchline of a joke, and you both halfheartedly laugh.

"I'll be able to see you," You say, "So it's not goodbye."

"I know, don't be so melodramatic." He says in a fake whine, "I'm just here for moral support."

You couldn't even begin to explain to him how important that was. How important he was, in such a short time.

"Here goes nothing," and you kneel next to your body, unsure. Unsure of just about everything--except the one thing that kept you going. That you needed to get back. That you weren't done.

That you wanted to know him, before you had to leave him again.

First, you try to touch your body--wow what a sentence--and press a hand through your shoulder. And through it goes, but you feel something.

"Maybe I just--maybe I just need to lie down. Like, in it. In me."

Haga snorts from restrained laughter, and you give him a feigned look of displeasure.

After one circle-round of looking down at your position, you kneel again. You lay down, your face in the same space as your face, and try to mimic the appearance of your corpse.

...A few seconds pass, and nothing happens.

Haga leans over you, an eyebrow raised. You notice, only because he's over you and his bangs naturally lifted away from his face due to whatever gravity ghosts had.

"Is that working for you?"

"Not exactly." You admit, rising to sit within the confines of your own physical body's torso. You give a weary sigh, rubbing your forehead.

He sits down with you, arms crossed over his chest. Dabi does another lap, and walks ankle high through the side of Haga's knee.

"What were you doing when that happened?"

"I was using my quirk. Using.. giving my energy to the ghosts around, at the time." You motion to your hair. "It turns white when I do it. But, I had never gone that far before."

"Since you were giving energy, do you need energy back or something? Can you absorb it?"

"If I could, I wouldn't know how."

"Mm, well." He thinks on it for a second. "Have you tried using your quirk.. now?"

Honestly, you hadn't thought about it.

"Can.. ghosts use quirks?"

"I mean, no." He lifts his hands, "Trust me I've tried. But you might not really be a ghost, so. Might be worth a go."

You look down to your hands, palms up above your lying body's ribcage. Using one's quirk as like an acquired instinct. Once it's settled in, you learn to control it by going through a series of (usually unfortunate) events, where you sort of 'feel out' how it works. You, for example, couldn't always tell when it was 'on', and would see ghosts at random. Realizing that thinking about it made it work, or not work, had taken quite a bit of time.

So, you suppose, this wouldn't be any different. Just, think about it.

Without another word, you lay back into the position of your physical form, eyes closed. Strangely, however, as you begin to flip that switch--your mind changes directions. Drawn forward into a feeling--and you recognize the smell of boiling water and ash. The sting of spreading fire tearing at your clothes.

The mountain...?

Ever since Dabi had revealed himself to you as Touya; ever since you had learned about the accident on the mountain, you stopped having that dream. But as your eyes reopen, there you are again, a part of the air that was being eaten by a cerulean blaze.

Your body was gone--both versions of it.

What..?

Y/n...

You hear a voice, at first thinking it might be the boy--might be Touya--but it's--

Y/N!

Haga's.

It pulls you--wrenches you--forward to sitting upright. It's so heavy, your chest, and so damn cold, but at the alarm in the teenager's voice you search and find him standing at your feet and pointing out over the tomb stones.

At a tall, dark, featureless, thing that stands only yards behind--

"Y/n..?" Dabi asks, voice broken.

#Dabi x reader #dabi x gn reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #league of villain fanfiction #touya todoroki #bnha fanfiction #@lionheart2318 #@leahvengeance-blog #@chandiewashere #@peculiarinsomniac

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lethargicsunlight · 3 years ago

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Dabi X SpookyQuirk!Reader "Necromancer" (Part 15)

(I'm finally getting over the #bigsick and I'm so glad to be back into writing. I might have something else SpookyQuirk! coming out soon.. promise this story's still got a lot coming though :P )

THIS SERIES HAS A TAG LIST!~ Leave a comment on this post, or on the tag list itself here: LINK! if you would like to be added!

WARNINGS: Light gore, SFW, creepy/spooky vibes, SPOILERS

Haga decided to stick around.

You were surprised he wanted to, and normally you might've tried persuading him to 'move on'. But honestly, you appreciated his company. Especially now, as you stood before a tall and ominous metal door.

It reminded you of standing in front of the principle's office when you were in school.

"You trust this guy?" He asks from beside you.

"...He's the first person that ever really acknowledged my quirk as something useful."

"That doesn't mean you trust him." Haga retaliates, taking a few steps forward. "I'll be around. Let me know if you need me."

You give him a nod as your heart strings are pulled. You couldn't fathom why he wanted to stay, why he wanted to help. But knowing you had an ace in the hole made you feel a lot better about this interaction. For the all the good All for One's done you, he was still..

Creepy.

"You may come in, whenever you like.."

You flinch as the intercom comes to life. "R-right."

-----

In a room a few hallways down..

Dabi paces the floor like a carnivore.

"Please sit down?" Mr. Compress tries again, leaning into a pillar nearby. "You were only just attended to moments ago, you should rest. Y/n will be fine."

Why doesn't it feel like it? Dabi asks in silence, giving the masked man a look.

"If anything, maybe he wants to offer praise? That stunt was unlike anything the world's ever seen. The Dead coming to life..?" He shakes his head to draw emphasis. "He'll have big plans for that, I wager."

"That." Dabi says, pointing in Compress's face. "That is what I'm afraid of."

"Pray tell, Touya, what would you have the Master do then? Lock Y/n away? With that kind of power, they could change everything for the League. Is that not why you're here? To change the world?"

Dabi groans in frustration, "Yes." And he thinks on it for a moment before he answers again, "But I don't want to lose my friends in the process."

-----

You were surprised by the amount of tubing and wiring that existed in the space supposedly housing All for One. It was also dark, only back-lit by strangely placed television screens and component lights.

He was indeed a villain, and his lair looked like it belonged to such.

"Ahh, there's the villain of the hour."

You take an involuntary step back as the tubes and wires twist beneath some mechanical arm, revealing a dais as it swivels to face you.

It's All for One. He doesn't look any different from the last time you'd seen him, although in a different place. His face still gave you the creeps, in the way that it really didn't look like a face at all. Just, skin stretched uncomfortably over mangled bone.

He put some of the corpses you've seen to shame.

"How have you been?"

You have to suck in a breath at the realization he expected you to answer. The pressure that mean could exude was terrifying. "Ah--I'm, fine. Good."

"Yes? According to Shigaraki, it sounded as though you'd been through the ringer. I heard you died." He stands from his chair of tubing, approaching the end of the dais. "And came back, of course."

You swallow.

"O-oh, yes, right--I did. It was, unpleasant, but.. I need to test out what I was able to do."

"Right you are." He says, an arm extending out and taking hold of a handle. Pulling it forward, he reveals a screen. "Not only that though... it seems as though you caused quite a scene during our attack in Esuha."

The screen flashes rainbow pixels when he turns it on, before settling on the image of a city-scape. You can see smoke in the sky, despite the poor resolution. Before you even have the time to feel put on the spot, his presses a button that causes the video the play.

It's a broadcast from the Esuha City's local news station.

"Can you get in closer?" Someone says, presumably the spokesperson. From the whirring you could tell they were in a helicopter.

The camera zooms in and out of focus over the sky-scrapers and business towers until, finally, the image clears. You can see a fiery outline of Endeavor on the street, and a dark blotch you could only assume was your Dabi.

"It looks like some kind of face off between the Number One Pro-Hero Endeavor, and League of Villain's Dabi--wait.."

The camera zooms in and out of focus again as it moves.

"Who is.. there's someone else approaching." The anchor says, and does so in a way that adds suspense. (Despite how dire the situation was actually supposed to be.)

When the camera's image becomes clear again, it's you. You're standing in front of Dabi, and it's surreal to see yourself through the camera's lens.

"I can't make out what they're saying. Closer?" The Anchor asks again, and it does appear that whoever is driving the helicopter makes a valiant attempt at just that.

You already know what's coming next. It causes a pit in your stomach, and you aren't sure why.

The air comes dense around your form on the screen; much like a fog. The anchor complains about it for a moment, but the helicopter drops enough in altitude that the image was no longer disrupted.

"I'm not sure what this new villain is doing, everyone be careful.." The anchor chimes, probably directed at the pilot. "It looks like mist or.. some kind of illusion perhaps or--what is.. what is that? Are those people?"

The anchor cannot see as well as the camera can shoot, it seems. Zoomed in, the camera picks up a crystal clear image of the walking corpses you remember from the fight before you blacked out. All of the ghosts you had managed to call to your aid seemed to walk into existence as though stepping out of a wall of water.

"Corpses?!" The Anchor exclaims, finally catching on. The camera shakes as it zooms and pans, following some of the more grotesque in appearance as they drag themselves in Endeavor's direction. "That's impossible.."

"It's like one of those things.." Another voice pipes in from behind the camera. "A Necromancer, out of a video game.. Bringing the dead to life."

The screen goes black and All for One pulls it away. You're left breathless--you hadn't realized you'd been holding it.

"Necromancer." He tests it on his tongue, following it up with a wide smile. "I don't think I could've come up with anything better."

Chills erupt down your spine.

I'm supposed to want to be here. You remind yourself, trying to steel those unruly nerves.

"I'll admit, I wasn't prepared for such a revelation." He continues, turning away from you on his dais. "I had only considered your quirk for things like espionage. But this.." He chuckles darkly, large shoulders jostling beneath the pressed line of his suit. "This is so much better. You've really changed things, you know?"

Forget steeling your nerves, they're jelly now.

"H-how?" You ask, voice unapologetically wavering. "How have I changed things?"

"You are a voice." He says, a white gloved hand gesturing in your direction. (strange considering he doesn't have eyes, and you only now noticed he's completely aware of where you are--and where everything is in this room.) "The Dead speak through you. And the Dead know the truth. They know of the injustice that has plagued our society better than any underdog could. Better than anyone alive could."

You glance off, catching an image of Haga among the electronics at the side of the room. You wondered how he felt about all of this.

"You may be the catalyst the League always needed."

Strange, you think as takes a moment to press something into his chairs mini-keyboard. I still don't understand how that changes anything..

But you weren't about to ask!

"For now, continue to improve your abilities as you aid the League. While our mission went without any notable gains, it was not all in vain." He pulls forward yet another screen to show you, which has a selection of images that flash across them rather than a video.

"This is the Pro-Hero Hawks. We've managed to strike a bargain, and he'll be our eyes within the Pro-Hero ranks. He's going to be working closely with Twice and Dabi for the foreseeable future."

The image is of a man, close to Dabi's age, with sandy blonde hair and very noticeable giant red wings. You'd definitely heard of him before. He was in the Top Three--at least before the time you were.. brought here.

"I want you to keep an eye on him while you work alongside Dabi."

Fear flashes across your eyes as you glance at him, and it causes him another chuckle.

"Oh, I know about you two." He leans away, mouth still bared in a grin. "But, conviction to one another is a powerful tool if you ask me. I won't get in the way of that."

Another breath of relief leaves your lungs. Yeesh does this man have presence.

"I will check in on occasion to see how you're improving."

You nod, "Understood."

"You've done well today, Necromancer. I expect great things from you. Just do me one favor.."

You stare towards him, but find it hard to place your gaze without eyes to inspect. You settle on the collar of his suit. "Yes sir?"

"Don't die." He grins, "Again."

#Dabi x reader #dabi x gn reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #league of villain fanfiction #touya todoroki #bnha fanfiction #@lionheart2318 #@leahvengeance-blog #@chandiewashere #@peculiarinsomniac #@phoenixkd #@thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch #@lascivious-jaz #@suhncity

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lethargicsunlight · 3 years ago

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Dabi X SpookyQuirk!Reader "Post-Mortem" (Part 14)

For those of you still along for the ride, thank you for Reading!

If you're interested, I now have a tag-list started for this series! You can comment below, on the taglist here: LINK, or DM me if you would like to be added!

Read the other parts of this series here: LINK

WARNINGS: SFW. Ghosts/Spirits, spooky, slow burn

He's stumbling closer, loose at the seams, spilling over.

It had all hinged on the slight possibility, the smallest chance, that you might actually come back.

And you did.

But now as he moves, he feels stranded in a sea. He swears there's water up to his knees and he's wading through it--you must be a mirage, an island he can't reach. He'd done everything with hope in his lungs, but somehow he still doubted you were real.

Except--

Why were you looking at him like that?

"Dabi.."

There's a warning tone to your voice and it tightens his chest. Did you not want to be here?

"Dabi I need you to run."

Did you not want to see hi--wait, run?

He turns back once he realizes your eyes had actually been locked behind him. He sees nothing.

"RUN!"

The breaking pitch of your voice jolts his heart and pulses adrenaline through his veins. His exhaustion is left in the wake of his pounding feet as he weaves through the tombstones to your side, where he grabs ungracefully at your waist and pushes you both forward.

He can't see what he's running from, but there wasn't a lie in the fear that captured in your eyes.

"Twice!" He yells out, not even slowing down. A masked face then pops up from behind a row of graves, sleepy but bright-eyed once he realized the occasion.

Well, until he realized Dabi had meant for him to run too.

And you? Well, you felt heavy. Working your physical form after an almost five hour out-of-body experience was.. An experience.

It felt like your legs were made of the heaviest jell-o in existence.

"Go, go, I'll catch up--" You go to plead with Dabi as you fall behind, but the glare you receive is world stopping. He slows to your pace and settles in at your side, using the broad of his arm to corral you forward.

"My ass." He growls.

"GuYs, WhAt ArE we RuNninG From?!" Twice calls out, making ground as you and Dabi (And Haga) make it to the road outside the cemetery. You don't answer him, too occupied by the need to breathe--returning much needed oxygen into your post-mortem body.

----

"I think it's gone.."

You hear him as he peeks at you from around the corner, bangs in his eyes. Haga had been kind enough to volunteer as look out while the three of you rested in an alley, thankful the car that was unceremoniously parked there had been unlocked.

Everyone was still taking their deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth, but the cold still felt like daggers in your sternum.

Dabi sat in the driver's seat, but after having tried to start the engine manually and realizing the wiring (and probably the engine) had been removed from the chassis, he now had his boots on the dash and his head leaning back and over his seat's head-cushion; stretching his throat like it could bring in more air.

You give Haga and appreciative look, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"Guys, I think we're safe.." You announce, but you don't move for the car door. The thought of walking absolutely stunk.

"What was it?" Dabi asks, voice even more hoarse than standard.

Twice's head and shoulders appear from the backseat, eyes dead on you. It mounts a great deal of pressure--how do you explain this?

"It, um.." You look to Haga for some help, but he just looks off somewhere else. You remember, then, that talking about it in their world could make it appear. Thank goodness he's a smart kid. "It's not a ghost. It's something else. Something they're afraid of, but we aren't sure what it is or what it's originally called. They're really superstitious about them. Like monsters superstitious."

"Ghosts are superstitious?" Dabi asks with a hint of laughter in his voice. The sound causes a squeeze to your stomach.

"Can it hurt us?" "So it can't hurt us?"

You give Twice an apologetic look. "Honestly, I don't know if it can or not. But I didn't want to take that chance. It looks.. pretty scary."

"Either way, I'm glad you're--"

Before Twice can finish what he wants to say, his cell phone rings. His shoulders visually slump as he reaches for it, looking at the I.D.. "It's Shigaraki, I'll tell him you're back." He announces, pulling himself back into his seat and reaching for the car door. "Thank goodness for the interruption!" "What poor timing."

As the door closes with Twice's exit, the air in the car suddenly grows thick.

"So," you look down, picking at your hands so as to avoid peeking the colors of Dabi's aura. "Sounds like everyone's okay?"

"Yeah."

You clear your throat awkwardly.

"Dabi.. Thank you. For what you did."

"Yeah, don--"

"I mean really, because I--I don't think I would have made it back. No one knew where you guys went and, and I did see the heroes but they didn't know anything either, I walked around for hours and hours and hou--"

He silences you with a palm on your jaw, forcing your face towards his.

"Hey."

Despite having been rambling, you were suddenly choked for words. You stare at him openly, catching the vibrancy of his cerulean, crimson, velvety aura.

He looks like roses on fire.

"Everything's fine." He reassures you, and maybe him too, considering your choice of words hinted that there could have been a much less favorable outcome. Yet, now as the moment presses in, he remembers some of the more.. finite details.

Suddenly a finger is shoved towards your face.

"But you are not allowed to risk your life like that ever again."

Despite the fact he was totally serious, you snicker.

"Wha--I mean it!" He growls, voice thick. "Especially not for me."

"He was going to kill you."

"Yeah, and that's my business. Not yours."

"Seeing you die is my business."

"And how do you think I feel?!"

"I didn't know that was going to happen!"

He exaggerates a sigh, pressing a thumb into his temple and turning away like he's upset.

But you can see his hidden smile in the way the staples along his face rise up to meet his cheek bones. It makes you grin too.

"...I heard what you said." He says quietly, eyes glued to the cracked glass of his car window.

"Hm?"

"To my father. You know, before the... Walking Dead thing that you did."

You process that for a moment. What was it--

Oh.

'Because I love your son.'

Suddenly, everything was hot. Pretty sure your physical body was getting plenty of oxygen right now, as blood rushed through just about all of it. You could feel sweat beading on your forehead.

"O-oh." You verbalize the realization, finally, clearing your throat a second time.

A few moments of silence pass, both of you unsure of what to say. No longer reserved about it, you watched his aura--but it only flickered with the same colors.

It's the missing colors that made you relax. No regret, no disdain, no displeasure.

"I meant it." You choke out.

"I know."

You give him a droll stare. Once he finally catches it--he laughs.

"Wha--I literally died, and you're laughing?"

"Woah, hey, don't joke about that, I was just teasing."

"Oh? I mean, I figured a declaration like that, you could at least give me some kind of a--"

This time when he silences you, it's with a kiss.

And every kiss before paled in comparison.

The glass had been too full for too long, and now the surface finally ruptured over the glass's edge; pouring out the emotions between you as he slides you over the armrest and cup-holders. He folds you against him, bruising close, and you react in kind with cold hands that slide down the collar of his burnt and torn coat. There's desperation in the quickening breaths and digging fingers that had tingles rolling down your spine, and a growl rolling from his tongue before you find it in your mouth.

And he stops for a moment, palm pressed to the side of your face, where he finally, breathlessly, whispers: "I love you too."

It's not very ceremonious--it's in the front of a broken down car after all.

But you were going to think about that for weeks.

"Hey guys?" It's Twice's voice, somewhere outside the car.

The trance was effectively broken; but as your embarrassed eyes search over the dash, Dabi greedily leans in to nibble at your lip. You sheepishly try to push him away, but he grins and nuzzles at you anyway.

Despite yourself, you giggle feverishly. Embarassed, overwhelmed, giddy.

Dabi finally stops when Twice literally leans into your window. Either the streetlight across the way had managed to disguise your little make-out, or he was pretending not to notice.

"We need to head back, boss wants to talk to you."

You nod, adjusting your clothes and sliding back into your seat. You give Dabi a little warning look, like an inside joke between you, and his lidded eyes are cat-like as he watches you leave.

"I think that was it." "Oh, he said something else!"

You and Dabi (and Haga, you notice, lingering at the corner) give Twice full attention. While his voices spoke essentially in opposites, one of them still had something else to say.

Even before he spoke, there seemed to be a pit in your stomach.

"According to the news, you've been given a new name!"

"Uh oh," Dabi drolls, but he's grinning. "Hope it's a good one.."

You swallow, "What is it?"

"They're calling you the Necromancer."

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chandie-washere · 4 years ago

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#manga icons #manga headers #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk icons #jjk headers #inumaki icons #jujutsu kaisen icons #inumaki headers #inumaki

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lethargicsunlight · 3 years ago

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🥀 Chapter 4 “Big... and Bulky!”

“It’s Beauty and the Beast, but You aren't the monster..” (Fem!Reader X Kirishima)🥀 Chapter 4 “Big... and Bulky!”

(Second time's the charm?)

I totally just decided to go back to my laptop to finalize this post...

Anyways! Please enjoy this plot heavy chapter! I've been falling on most of my fics lately, so I hope to make up for it~

Find the other chapters here: LINK

Aaaan join the Tag List here: LINK

WARNINGS: Lotta plot, SFW, sulking.

What the hell is that?!

Kirishima holds both arms out in front of him, hardened and sharp like blades. He eyes the monster ahead of him, watching in his peripheral as the people it had been attacking ran back to the other end of the alley and out unto the street.

Honestly, he hadn't expected anything to happen his first night doing this. Usually after a big event, things die down for a while due to the surplus in hero and police presence--but this was something else!

"Like I said, if you come easily.."

He notices the creature's eyes are closed, despite it's head being turned his direction. There's a strange, pitched whine that comes from it, and he can see blood oozing from about it's feet. There's an obvious wound on the arm opposite his position--but that shouldn't matter, he thinks, trying to draw himself out of any sympathy.

They would patch it up, once detained.

"I see you're wounded.." He un-hardens one arm and reaches for his cell. "Once the authorities get here, they'll--"

He flinches at it moves forward, extending an arm with another strange melancholic whine. He could swear there was a please, please don't, within the hollow noise of it.

He knows it’s a bad idea, but he hesitates. Then, the creature begins to shrink.

Going back to it's original form, he notes, feeling at least a little victorious. FatGum has always been one to instruct diplomacy over violence. Cautiously, he moves forward, still ready to take on the brunt of any attack this beast could dish out--

"It's you.."

Standing, shoulder clutched by a shaking hand and eyes still closed to him, is definitely you.

"…This looks bad, doesn't it?" You ask dryly, while glass shards tink against the pavement as they leave your arm, the flesh shrinking and spitting them out.

"I-I mean--what..?" He shakes his head, "What happened?"

You open your eyes then, sure that your quirk had fully stopped. Staring, you converse with yourself on what to say. Would he even believe you? With everything he already knew, you were pretty sure it didn't matter. Hell, the fact he'd conveniently been around for this event had red flags all over it.

"…Self defense." You say, reluctant to move toward him. "They followed me from the restaurant. Someone used an illusionary quirk and lead me to this alley way."

"Wait, they attacked you?" He asks, putting effort into relieving the 'you' in his sentence of any emphasis.

"…Yes."

Kirishima isn't sure if your hesitancy is because you were telling the truth, or lying. Bakugou's warning goes off in his mind, but the memory of it angers him. Gah, why can't things just be simple!

He blinks, and he's caught soaking in the moment for several seconds before he settles on doing the one thing he can do. "Alright… Well you're uh, you're pretty banged up. C'mon, you need to go to the hospital."

"You aren't taking me in?"

"Why would I?"

"…" Well, he had a point, all things considered. In fact, blurting the question was more suspicious than him indeed choosing not to turn you in.

Kirishima weighs the decisions of his movements, in the end doing away with his hardening quirk and approaching you outright. Less because he was afraid of your possible retaliation, and more because he could harden in an instance anyway--but he didn't want to appear threatening. Even with the situation being what it was, he wanted to take Tsu's advice to heart. "Like I said, hospital."

"That's honestly the last place I want to go right now." You admit, allowing him to come up on your wounded side.

"I'm not really good with sutures.." He mumbles while evaluating the damage.

He reaches out gingerly, taking the upper part of your arm and twisting for a slightly better look. You wince. "You might get away with some bandages. I don't know what your quirk does, but it seems to have an effect on the damage you take. These look a lot smaller now." He gives you a stern look--a look you hadn't previously thought him capable of making--and lifts his hand from your arm to point a finger. "But, you will need actual medical attention in the morning. Even if I have to escort you myself."

"Ugh, fine." You murmur, wincing.

With a satisfied noise, he moves to the other side and goes to put your arm over his shoulder.

"Can you walk?" He asks.

"Of course." You bite back, but immediately regret doing so afterwards. He remains unphased, following through with the action, and that makes the guilt worse somehow.

🥀

There were some looks from the hotel's night manager, but otherwise you two had been left alone.

By the time the door to your room was opened, you were ready to hit the floor. You had not used the offensive side of your quirk for years, and it had taken a toll on your body.

"Here we go," He says, voice soft despite your sharpened edges, leading you to take a seat on a barstool. It puts you up a little higher, and given his massive height, it's to help him clean up your injuries.

His massive height. Had you noticed before? Why was it so important all the sudden? He turns away to grab a white wash-cloth from the counter and drench it in the sink.

"There should be a first aid kit in here somewhere.." He mumbles, looking around the expanse of the hotel room as he shuts the water off. "Any idea where it is?"

You realize you'd been staring when he locks eyes with you.

"Er--I think it's on the wall in the bathroom."

"Got it."

He folds the cloth in his hand then goes for the bathroom door. As the light turns on, the fluorescent bulbs outline his broad shoulders and jagged hair--jagged hair that had begun to settle with time, and no longer stood straight up like it usually did when he wore his hero costume.

You force your gaze away.

Now you knew why you had accidently described the prince in your novel to look like him.

You also felt yourself growing nervous beneath the weight of his presence. When he finally returns to the bar with a little red and white box, you can feel your foot wanting to tap against the metal of your seat and sweat pooling on your upper lip.

"Okay, so.. I'm not going to lie to you." He starts off, voice all even and unaffected--if anything, he sounded as cheerful as he had the first time you met him. "I wasn't really the best at medical training, but I remember the basics."

You swallow, and he grabs the cloth while tracing your figure with his eyes--your wounds with his eyes--not your figure, idiot.

"Alright. Arm first? I'll just clean it with this to get the grime off, then alcohol after."

You nod, silently sucking in a breath of preparation.

"Cool."

His palm, also massive, presses against the clean part of your arm for leverage as he uses the other to wipe blood and grime from your skin. It's practically torturous for the first few seconds, being so close, but you adjust. And of course, he seems fine.

He probably does this a lot. You remind yourself, letting your eyes wander off of him. …And for all kinds of people.

"This might burn a bit." He warns, reaching for the cotton and alcohol. When he looks back at you, he flashes a charming smile. "You can hit me if you need to. Since my quirk is Hardening, I won't feel it."

"I have a high pain tolerance."

"If you say so."

Minutes of awkward silence extend into the night as he cleans and bandages your wounds. Your nervousness ebbs and soon all you can feel is tired and achy. By the time he'd finished, your eyes had grown droopy and your saltiness had dissipated.

Despite the odd connections and coincidences, his actions for now seemed sincere. Not to mention advantageous for you, seeing as he was acting as your personal nurse. It would only take an instant for you to use your quirk and know the truth, but.. Something stopped you.

For once, you didn't want to know.

Satisfied with his work, he dusts off his hands with a proud toothy grin. "All done. Pretty good, if I do say so myself." He removes himself from in front of you, circling back to the sink. "How ya feeling?"

"Tired, but fine." A second beats by before you add: "Thank you, by the way."

"No problem." He checks the clock on your wall, "I better head back and put this in a report. I'll get with you tomorrow, okay?"

He washes his hands and you watch him.

Why didn't you want him to leave?

You hated everyone.

You'd fought it before. Fought it like a caged lion, like the beast you had been in the alley--you beat on the bars and remind yourself: they aren't all bad, they aren't all bad. Yet, you'd always end up right back in your room, locked away, imagining better, kinder realities from the safety of your cozy castle walls.

Realities with real heroes, that weren't backed by ridiculous penchants and advertisement fortunes.

Yet, despite how the evidence pointed towards his eventual betrayal.. You wanted him to stay.

"It's…" Your mouth opens involuntarily. It's late, you want to say. Stay.

And it grieves you, the way he looks up from the sink expectantly with optimistic ruby eyes, and knowing you can't actually ask him to.

"It's getting cold at night." You deflect. "I noticed you weren't wearing a jacket.."

"Oh," He waves a hand after shutting off the water. "Puh, I can't feel it really. It's part of my endurance training for my quirk."

Then he takes on a look of surprise, giving you a bit of a suspicious side-glance.

"What?"

"…Nothing. You just, mentioned the weather. Actually, you warned me about the weather." He crosses his arms, thumb at his chin, a pedestal for his childish grin. "I think I'm growing on you a little."

"I was just being polite."

"Which, you pointedly weren't doing before."

"Considering what you've done for me tonight, this is a logical way to act."

"Fair. Fair." He resigns, dropping his arms. But he doesn't leave immediately.

"I'll check back in tomorrow, and.. If it's alright with you, I think we need to talk about this whole thing again. I'm not directly insinuating these bombings and attacks are revolving around you, but.." His hand goes to his neck and he looks off, "it's just a little weird, y'know?"

"I know." You respond flatly, "Isn't this police work though? Investigation, interrogations..?"

"I'd like to think I'm not doing that. I'm just.. Doing whatever it takes to make sure everyone's safe." He gives you an apathetic look, "To be honest, after the way Detective Gina spoke to you, I'm not sure you would get treated fairly. It's something I plan to talk to his superiors about, when this is over."

There's an argument you want to start then and there, but you're honestly too tired. Telling Detective Gina's supervisor would have as much effect as pouring water on a rock. It looks shiny for a moment, but it grows dull again after some time.

"…I don't mind." You say, bypassing his last statement for now. "I'll help as much as I can."

"Thank you." He says, and he does so with that toothy smile that feels too genuine to be real. "Alright, I'll.. See you tomorrow, L/n."

"See you." You mutter, lifting yourself from the bar as takes his leave.

For once, being alone didn't feel so nice.

🥀

"She turned into a what?"

"Some kind of animal. A really big one. Anyway, I'm just worried she's being targeted. Everything's just.. Lining up all weird."

"Hm.." Fat Gum's voice hums through Kirishima's speaker, and he almost regrets asking for advice. He should be able to handle this on his own.

"And you're sure she wasn't the one that perpetrated the attack?"

Kirishima hesitates with his answer.

He wasn't sure.

"I wasn't there when it started, but I think she's telling the truth."

"You have a big heart Kirishima, but don't let that blind you. You need more information. What did you say her name was again?"

"Oop, someone's asking for me, gotta go. I'll call you later!"

"Alright, be careful--"

-click-

Kirishima sighs, slumping into the small office chair. He hated to lie, especially to someone so important; but he knew that once that name was uttered, he'd get dragged through the coals again.

He hated this.

Most of the time, his heart aligned with his hero work. He'd met so many people, and rarely did he meet heroes or police workers that gave him any inkling that they might be doing something bad, or had previously done something bad.

But now, when he utters that name, everyone changes. They get guarded. Angry, even. Like Gina.

And, he should probably do as they say. He shouldn't trust you, shouldn't entertain the thoughts he has of you.

But his chest always hurts when he thinks about your defeated downward glances. The natural downcast nature of your expression--like you've given up. Your sour voice and sharp words, defensive before conversation even starts.

Except that one moment the night prior.

"It's.. Getting cold at night. I noticed you weren't wearing a jacket."

There's someone else in there, and he knows it. A kinder, happier version that's been smooshed out like one of Gina's damned cigarettes.

Hand pressed into his chin, he glares daggers at the wall ahead. Upon it, a makeshift map of the area this station was in charge of. There's a picture of you and a red pin placed at the corner of the ward where the bomb had gone off. Another pin in the alley where you'd been attacked, and some more of recent sightings brought into the station.

He knew Detective Gina had the same board in his office. He also knew, that he probably shouldn't have his own, nor be conducting anything akin to an investigation on this subject without Gina's direct knowledge.

…He also knows that if he's wrong, if everything goes south, it'll end badly. His reputation with the Commission, the Police Force, and probably even Fat Gum's Agency, would essentially go into the toilet. He was intentionally being indirect and underhanded--words that no one thought to be in Kirishima's vocabulary.

But he was also tired of being held back.

This wasn't like the time he and his classmates had gone to save Bakugou when they were kids, when they were young and weak and naïve. Now, he had the experience, the ability, and even the jurisdiction. It felt like everyone was trying to keep his nose in the dirt, like he just doesn't understand. Like he's not enough.

She's dangerous.

"Well, so am I." He says aloud, realizing the intensity of his grip that had slid up to his hairline. His fingers had become points, digging into the skin above his temple.

"Red Riot?"

Someone pokes their head in through the door to his makeshift office, a clip board in their hand.

"Yeah?"

"Pro Hero Dynamight is here to see you."

🥀

"It's a new gang."

A stack of papers is slapped unto Kirishima's much-too-small desk, pressed into it by Bakugou's thick green and orange gloves. On top, a picture held to the rest by a paperclip.

It shows a picture taken in motion, where grey and black streaks the page. It appears to have been done with a night-vision lens, grainy, but the central focus was still crystal clear. Someone turned away, running from a package on the ground, with a strange symbol painted unto their jacket.

"Another one?" Kirishima asks, standing at the desk's opposite end. "It's like they keep popping up all over the place.."

"This one's different." Bakugou growls, "Most gangs are just a bunch of idiots with quirks that they think gives them an advantage. These have been organized. And there's a'fuckin lot of em too."

"You mean.."

"Yeah. It's getting worse."

There's a tense silence that follows, where Kirishima picks up the papers and Bakugou takes a step back to cross his arms and lean into the nearest wall. Flipping through the pages, Kirishima reads time stamps and reports regarding the same symbol being seen in equipment heists and bank break-ins. Small crimes in comparison to some, given the nature of their world, but even he could make sense of the pattern.

"Someone's stocking up." He says, gaze returning to his friend.

"There's a few bust-ins that include regular grocery stores. They cleaned out the cash registers, but they took cleaning chemicals with them too. That explains the explosives." Bakugou moves around the desk, pointing at locations across Kirishima's map. "Somehow, they're hitting areas at opportune moments and slipping past pro-heroes with ease."

"Do you think they could have a group with specialized stealth quirks?"

"Well, that's just the thing. Every time we've actually come in contact, we haven't seen their quirks. They don't use 'em."

The statement makes Kirishima's brows furrow. "You've made contact?"

"A few times." Bakugou runs a hand through his hair, and Kirishima can tell the subject really bothered him. "We keep losing track of them. It's not a coincidence, I know that. They're hiding themselves from us so we can't get an I.D., and they have to be getting away with some kind of.. Teleportation quirk or something."

Another thoughtful silence. Finally, Kirishima asks the question that had been eating at him from the start.

"…Have you spoken to Midoriya about this?"

Bakugou sighs. A pent up, frustrated breath that he lets out between his fingers as he grips his own jaw. "…I can't."

"What? Why?"

They were rivals for the Number One hero spot, but they weren't stupid. They worked together when they had too, and usually they were damn near invincible. Thanks to Midoriya's unmatched team of sidekicks, he took on most of the worst crime investigations across Japan--just like All Might had when he'd started his organization with Night Eye.

"I… I have a hunch." Bakugou's voice lowers an octave, "Someone knows where the patrols are. At all times. Unless someone is doing something off the grid, I'm pretty sure everyone's patrols are logged and kept somewhere."

"So.. Do you think someone from Midoriya's group is leaking the information?"

"Maybe. They don't have direct access, but the Hero Commission would bend over backwards for him. If his name is dropped, the officials will give them anything. But.. That's not the big reason." He takes a deeper breath. "Right now, he's so far up the Commission's ass that if I say anything against them, he gets real defensive. To the point I'm.. I'm not sure I can trust him not to mention it to them."

"The Commission." Kirishima says aloud, but he's lost in deep thought.

He's thinking about you.

You who had been a young woman trying to become a secret service investigator for the Hero Commission. You, who had tried to out someone in the elite, then ended up being pulled into a court case, ruled over, then kicked out unto the streets with the worst reputation in history.

What if you were right?

The Hero Commission doesn't claim to be innocent, but it does claim to have the best of intentions for helping the people, and in that there is no room for corruption.

Yet, that is exactly what Bakugou is proposing.

"Wait.." Instinctually, the blonde points at him. "You better not be.. You're not thinking about that woman are you?"

"So what if I am?" Kirishima turns on him, more poised than usual. "What if she's right? We know for a fact there were rats in Tartarus. I know All for One is gone now, but if someone really wants change.."

"Then they would start there." Bakugou finishes for him, and he finally acquiesces to the idea. "Have you gotten anywhere with that?"

"…Well," Kirishima looks off, "Now that you mention it.. I haven't been able to get any details no. But she was attacked."

"What? Directly?"

"Yeah. Last night."

🥀

You peer angrily at your reflection.

You were absolutely, positively, NOT looking forward to the Pro Hero Red Riot coming back to your hotel room for some kind of 'talk' that you essentially likened to an interrogation.

You were NOT.

"So what if he's.. Tall. And, bulky. Bulky! Too bulky--he's far, far too big. Of a person." You say, lip curled at yourself. "He's.. Loud. Too smiley, for sure."

The list of half-hearted so-called-unattractive properties dies in your throat. Unfortunately, that hatred turns inward, and instead you pick yourself apart.

"It's just.. Hormones." You try to reason. "I've been alone a good while, that's all."

And what were you going to do about it?

Sulk.

In the main room of the hotel, dressed in nice clothes and wearing more make-up than usual. Holding a pillow in your lap, and looking around at the furniture like it's going to help you vanquish your internal despair.

But, alas, time only drips by.

Unable to eat from the nerves (that are totally not good nerves!) you waste away there on the couch, eventually encouraging yourself to write a few chapters.

It's around noon when there's a knock at your door.

You hop up, thrusting the laptop aside, checking your appearance in the wide mirror set on the wall by the door. Despite everything you want to think, your heart is pounding.

I wonder what he'll look like.. You ponder, as another rap is made at the door. You're standing in front of it; nervous.

You breathe, deep, then pull the latch.

"Hey!"

The first thing you notice, of course, is that big sharp-toothed smile.

The next thing you notice--is that he's not alone.

"What's up?"

You deadpan.

"Uh.. Hey?" You respond, giving Kirishima a look.

"This is Pro Hero Dynamight. He's just here to help." He nods back towards him, but the blonde didn't need an introduction. You were well aware of Japan's symbol of Victory.

Along with his terrible attitude and unmatched combat prowess.

Help. Right. You think sarcastically, and it takes an immense effort to control the scathing look you want to give them both. Instead you turn on your heel, going back inside.

"Come in I guess." You quip, arms crossing over your chest.

At least I'll be going to hell looking my best, you think, back turned to them. Why else would he bring someone as strong as Dynamight? This is it. Either I'm being taken in alive, or he's here to kill me.

You peek over your shoulder as they awkwardly shuffle inside. Their Hero costumes combined with their athletic physiques really made them.. Too big for the room.

"Well?" You ask, voice sharp. "You wanted to talk?"

"Actually.. We were thinking. Lunch first?" Kirishima asks, voice a little quiet like he could sense you were ornery.

"What?" You turn back to them, brows pinched.

"You've been up here since last night right?" Bakugou pitches in, "I heard hotel food is shit."

"Right--and, you've been through a lot. It's the least we can do."

You stare, openly gawking at them. Lunch?!

You motion a hand at them, "With the two of you, dressed like that? We'll be swarmed."

Bakugou lifts a duffelbag you hadn't noticed before. "We're prepared for that. You got a bathroom?"

What is happening--"Yeah. Down the hall.."

"Thanks." And he disappears first, with the door closing behind him.

Now alone, Kirishima seems to shrink a little.

"Lunch?" You ask him, shaking your head.

"Well, you know--" He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Bakugou's been a big help on this case, so I wanted him here, but I also thought that might make you uncomfortable if we, ya know, cornered you up here and all. At least out there you know we won't hurt you." He rambles.

Some tension in you releases.

So they really aren't here to kill you. That's nice at least.

#@chandiewashere #@leahvengeance-blog #@lionheart2318 #@falling4fandoms #@sora-rozu #@kiribakuslilpebble #kirishima x fem!reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima eijiro x y/n #eijiro kirishima #bnha fanfiction

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lethargicsunlight · 3 years ago

Text

“It’s Beauty and the Beast, but You aren't the monster..” (Fem!Reader X Kirishima)🥀 Chapter 2 “The Unbreakable Man”

Summery: Eijiro Kirishima, Pro-Hero Red Riot, has taken to a new patrol area that recently encountered a rash of random crimes. Villain unknown, he makes it his personal responsibility to ensure this new sector of Esuha City feels safe as the police force conducts their investigation while aided by FatGum’s Agency. After a bomb goes off in one of the Apartment buildings close to the station, he decides to help with the victim’s interview in the hopes of boosting their morale…

Instead, he meets you–who is far from ready to receive any such kind tidings. Burdened with curiosity and his steadfast beliefs, the Sturdy Hero feels swept into your world and finds himself sympathizing with the possibility that–

You might not be the monster everyone says you are.

WARNINGS: SFW, bodily injury, mental trauma, angst.

Theory: One's quirk is associated with the heart of the person.

Scientists across the globe have spent billions of dollars on the attempt to quantify and qualify quirks, but there is surprising evidence that the origin of quirks versus genetically attained quirks, can be intertwined with the identity of the person who owns it--

-'click'-

The Rich of Japan: Are Experimenting on their Children?

Ever since the revelation of Mass Murderer Dabi being the son of Enji Todoroki, the famous Endeavor, journalists have been prying into the hidden world of the elite, especially the lives of Pro-Hero Parents. How many of our favorite child-hood heroes are using underground fortunes to build perfect children, to keep hero-work in the family name? The Iida family--

-'click'-

You groan, closing your (brand new) lap-top and tossing it to the cushion beside you.

It was masochism that made you read world news and conspiracy theories. And you knew that.

But, for all the hate you mustered against it, for all the times you shut the door and hid yourself in your apartment--you wanted to know about the world. It was a sick desire, like staring at a beast that wants to kill you; it's beautiful and terrifying. Just like your quirk.

You, especially, understood the dangers of truth.

You snarl then, a palm pressed into your eye socket. There are tears beneath your eyelids--but they never fall. You had cried them out about a year ago, and honestly, you had been working hard to heal yourself back to normal. But truth was an ugly thing, and that damned package exposed just how fragile you had been all along.

A trip outside. That's what you needed. The unfamiliar hotel room felt claustrophobic, even though it was your thoughts that suffocated the air. Even though you had been there a week.

It wasn't your domain, and while the 'outside' wasn't even comparable to your old apartment, it was better than a room, a cage, that wasn't yours.

🥀

"Thank you! He's a really big fan, it means the world to him."

"Of course!" Red Riot signs his hero name unto the notebook--a school one--for a little boy who sported a baseball cap with horns that mimicked the ones he gelled into his hair every morning. So cute.

The mother pats the boys back and leads him away afterwards, while Kirishima waves until they disappear into the crowded street.

"And here you say you don't have that many fans."

"Bakugou?--Er, Dynamite?"

"Tch, keep it down." His friend's not in his uniform (unusual) and has his hood up. Kirishima shoots him an apologetic look.

The fact Bakugou had to wear something to hide his features spoke volumes to his popularity on the Hero Board. Kirishima was jealous, but it was good to be jealous. His friend deserved his position among the Pro-Heroes--he worked harder than anyone to get it--and Kirishima looked up to him.

Even if he would always be looking up to him.

"C'mon, there's something we need to talk about." He says, walking past Kirishima's shoulder and towards a nearby coffee shop. Curious, and even a little bewildered, he follows.

🥀

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Kirishima asks, seating himself across from his friend at the one table in the back farthest from the others. Not suspicious at all... "I mean, I know we're friends but.. You're usually pretty tied up."

There's a flash of guilt in Bakugou's eyes, one that Kirishima feels only he would notice. It was no secret that Dynamite was a very.. Internalized hero. He focused on his work and not much else. Yet, if Kirishima didn't know any better, that look suggested a sad truth of regret.

Maybe even the great and powerful Dynamite could feel lonely sometimes.

"It's.." He shifts, elbows on the table. "You know that bomb that went off in your new sector?"

Interesting. Kirishima--the open book that he is--leans in, eyes widening. "Yeah? What about it?"

"How much of the building did it take out?"

"Just the one apartment really.." His eyes drift away as he recalls the report, "It was lower to the ground, so there was some damage to the support frames, but the blast radius was pretty isolated."

"Huh. And, the apartment, did it belong to someone related to a pro-hero?"

Oddly specific.

"No." Is the answer, but Bakugou's brow raises when Kirishima leans back and fidgets with what little fabric was a part of his costume.

"No?"

"Well," Kirishima bites his cheek. He knew he wasn't going to keep the secret from Bakugou--he was just thinking about how he wanted to put it. He knew his interest in the victim might upset his friend because of the problematic reputation..

But honesty is manly...

"The victim wasn't related to any Pro-heroes, but she's not a nobody either." He leans back in, voice hushed. "I went with Detective Gina for the interview and she was... well, she acted angry. So I asked him what it was about, and he says she was involved in a case years ago--she was going to be an investigator for the Hero Commission."

There's a vibrant ruby-spark in his friend's eyes at the mention of the Hero Commission. "An investigator? Like.. What Hawks was doing?"

"Not sure. He was kind of quiet about it. The words he used was 'secret service stuff'."

"What was the case about?"

There's a hesitation before Kirishima tells him the story, but he does. He had only held on to it for a week, but it felt wonderful to get the weight off. Even with the inevitable--

"You really shouldn't hang around her much." And there's a dangerous look to Bakugou's eyes as he says it, one of warning. It's well placed, and Kirishima knows that, so he shrinks into his chair a bit. It's guilt, even shame, but he's not going to agree either.

"I know what you're thinking Bakugou, but something doesn't feel right. The story doesn't make sense to me."

He can hear Bakugou's tongue click as he sits back in his seat, arms crossing over the expanse of his chest. A physical wall that he places between himself and others. "If her quirk really is something that strong, she's dangerous. Especially if she sides with Villains."

"There's nothing on her record--"

"Kirishima. Someone like that could bribe her way through anything. A lot of people have stuff they hide, things they don't want anyone to know about. Even me." He voice ends on a quiet note, and it pulls a softer look from his former classmate. "Someone could use that knowledge for blackmail. There's corrupt people everywhere. Hawks taught us that."

Kirishima feels kicked.

It slumps his shoulders, and his own red irises bore into the wood of the rounded café table.

Maybe this was the reason Bakugou was so far ahead of him. So careful and analytical about everything...

But he also isn't Bakugou. He does things his own way. He isn't a man if he just.. Follows along. Not that he's quick to turn away advice, but in this--he was sure there was more to it.

"...I'm sorry man." He says, brows set when he finds the bravery to reconnect gazes with his friend. "But, I'm not letting this go. I'll be careful, but I know there's more to it... if things get dicey, I'll get out of the way. I can talk to FatGum and move my patrol."

The blonde knows he can't move him. Ever since they graduated, Kirishima has only become more and more steadfast; an unmovable pillar. He admires that, even if it pisses him off. One could almost see steam when Bakugou let's out a long huff through flared nostrils.

"Fine." Here, Bakugou realizes he had lead the conversation unto a tangent. Instead of dealing with the awkward aftermath of their disagreement, he segways back to the original point immediately. "...Since you're pretty sure on this, then maybe there's something else you can look out for."

Also ecstatic at the idea of skipping an uncomfortable silence, Kirishima lights up. "Yeah?"

"I know this is your agency's deal, but there's been some activity that lines up on my end and I'm not likin' it." He pulls out a notepad, where Kirishima can already see that names had been listed out. "All of these random targets are... too random."

Kirishima gives him an intentionally dull glare. "The random attacks are... too random?"

Glowering, "Listen Dumbass, I'm just saying. Something's up. It's happening too frequently, and it's always people who don't have targets on their back." He motions a thumb forward, indicating Kirishima. "You're little Whistleblower is the only person with that interesting of a background. The only other thing I've got going is that they're indirectly related to Pro-Heroes; but, I'm not putting a bunch of stock into it. A lot of people are indirectly related to Pro-Heroes, if you go back far enough."

"Right.."

"Just keep an eye out. Maybe.. Maybe if you're really stupid enough to get to know this chick, there might be some conflict in her background we can go off of."

"...I'm not doing any espionage here," Kirishima throws a hand up, brows pinching in concern. "I just want to know if what they said is real. I'm not getting her whole life story or anything."

"Whatever then." In his typical style, Bakugou begins rising from his chair without any pleasant good-byes. "Contact me if anything comes up. The Police are settled on the idea these cases are all different individuals, and are staying reactionary. Not a good idea if you ask me."

"Got it. If I see anything, I'll let you know."

Bakugou nods, and leaves. He never drinks coffee this late, so he drops a few yen on a bottle of water before Kirishima watches him head out unto the street. Then, he heaves a sigh.

Nothing could ever be simple. After... well, their whole time at U.A. really, things had changed. Not to mention, a lot of Pro-Heroes were thinned out over the Liberation War and the conflicts that followed. While the number of really powerful villains had also depleted, there were a lot of changes to the system that made solving crimes and being proactive on villain movements a lot more difficult. Something that Kirishima knew was very much at the dismay of his comrades, especially Midoriya--who wanted nothing more than to make the world a safer place.

Though, Kirishima supposed, a world without All For One was a safer place.

Another heavy sigh, and he drapes his chin on a palm to watch the passerby through groggy lidded eyes. He should probably get back to patrol--

Time slows down, he swears, as you weave through the crowd outside the coffee shop window. You're dressed warm, hands in jacket pockets, eyes set forward.

At first, he almost thinks he's crazy. That's coincidental. That's.. Too coincidental, actually. Was it really you, or someone that looked like you?

Either way, Kirishima buys two coffees before he heads out into the street.

🥀

"Hey!"

If I just take out those last two sentences, I think I can make it happen... You muse while along for your walk, thoughts drifting back to your work.

"Hey, L/n?!"

No.. Then again, it's just too boring. I'll take the paragraph out, and place a proper transition. The main character needs a little more time in that moment before--

"Oh, sorry excuse me. Wait--hey L/n!"

Ugh, then again; if I spend too much time writing out the dream, readers might get bored with that too. Well, I guess I could--

"L/n?"

"WHAT?" You whirl around, almost causing yourself whiplash.

You should've recognized the voice. A shocked Red Riot, in his Hero costume, splits a sea of now quizzical passerby.

"Oh. It's you." You drone, not even excusing your behavior, a hand coming up to trace your temple.

"Er... yeah, heh, uhm-- coffee?" He lifts an arm to reveal--indeed--a coffee, and you can see the fall leaves painted unto the paper cozy between his fingers. Steam was still pouring from the lid.

"No thanks." You say quickly, turning on a heel to start walking back into the crowd. Even more people were staring now; those not too busy with their commute. You wondered how many were dissing you for being so harsh to a Pro-Hero. Too bad they don't know what I know.

Sullen, his arm drops a fraction--but Red Riot is the Sturdy Hero! He wouldn't back down without a fight. He begins following you.

"Listen, I think we--" He has to move around someone to get closer to you. He has quite a large frame--"I think we got off on the wrong foot. Can we--Can I start over?"

"Start over? What's the point in that?" You ask over your shoulder, not even sure why you were entertaining this conversation.

"Well I--I'm a Pro-Hero, I have to, you know.. I'm supposed to make everyone feel safe..?" The way his statement ends in a query already shows just how confident he was. Or wasn't.

And, ERRRR. Wrong answer.

"If you want me to feel safe, do your job and leave me alone." You quip, "I appreciate your service, but whether we communicate really isn't necessary for your career."

Ouch. Kirishima literally winces. She's so smart--how am I going to get to her?

"Then--consider this a formal apology. For my colleague's behavior."

Why the hell is this guy so persistent? You look over your shoulder briefly; was he here to continue the Police's work? Were you now suspected of--of what--bombing yourself?Did the Police, or more likely the Hero Commission, secretly want you dead and sent the Unbreakable Man to finish the job?

Nah, you think to yourself with an audible chuckle. Too cliché for that. Might use it for my writing.

"Apology accepted." You say curtly, and despite being hopeful that it might cause him to give up--you're stopping at a cross walk while taxis and sports cars and hauling trucks drive by.

"Whew, that's good." He exhales, still holding the coffee out as he politely shoulders in next to you. "And I do mean it. I don't think it was very professional of him to act that way..."

You deadpan. He had interpreted your 'apology accepted' as an invitation, instead of a dismissal.

Looking down, you can clearly see the coffee in front of you--practically barring you off from the cross walk.

'Sometimes, it's nice to just receive things.'

The memory of it makes your lip curl. You refuse to take up the coffee.

"No offense, Mr. Red Riot, but I'm not partial to receiving drinks from unfamiliar men."

"O-oh.." He pulls it back in towards himself, looking even more kicked than earlier. "I guess I didn't think of it like that.. I'm seriously sorry."

Don't look at him, don't look at him, Don't you dare look at him.

And you don't. "I said apology accepted." You growl--a trick you learned early on in training was that men (particularly burly, testosterone-heavy, ego-inflated ones) despised being outwitted. "Thus, you have nothing left to discuss with me."

"...Well I mean..." He blinks, "I still think.. uh" He struggles, eventually staring down at the sidewalk.

Smug, you look over at him with the slightest raised eyebrow.

He sighs. "Look, I wanna be honest. I just want to talk to you. I uh.."

The crosswalk sign turns green, but an unforeseeable force keeps you in place. Gum, mucilage, curiosity, and the most disgusting glimmer of hope keeps your shoes glued to the concrete.

Kirishima accepts a feeling of silent victory as you remain while the others weave around and walk ahead. He swallows hard, hoping he couldn't possibly mess this up anymore than he already had.

"I just, don't think you're what they say you are."

And there, the cracks in the glass just shatter.

"Oh." You say, with a little nod.

Excited, he can't help the smile that spreads across his face. Finally, he was getting somewhere!

"I mean, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything and--you totally don't have to like, tell me anything--"

"Nono, I get it." You say, hand up, feigning submission. "You just want to... weasel into my life. Find out how I work, get the deets on how I still manage to make money in this forsaken country, oh and--what, take samples of my DNA so the Hero Commission can make a carbon copy? A little me? I guess that would be useful."

Kirishima, Red Riot, blanches.

"W-what--no--"

"Tell your boss, or whatever council member that's paying you, that they can rest easy. I don't care about them, I don't care about the commission--I just want to be left alone." You give him a final, grave, drilling, stare. "There won't be any trouble out of me. I'm done." And then you're off, only seconds before the crosswalk light turns red again.

But in your wake, Kirishima doesn't even have the energy to chase after you. Suddenly, all the bones in his body are weighed down--pressurized by the guilt he'd accumulated while trying to talk to you.

You thought he was trying to get close to you, to spy on you. Similar to the way Bakugou had suggested and--god, remembering that conversation didn't make him feel any better, that's for sure.

Defeated, Red Riot slowly turns the opposite direction so he can head to the agency, revisiting the conversation over and over and over again. I'm so stupid.. He chastises, I should've..

But, there's nothing that comes to mind. He'd been honest and told you the truth. Even when offering an apology for Detective Gina's behavior--maybe it wasn't the original intention of the conversation, but he still meant it.

In some crazy way, the failure actually solidifies his resolve.

🥀

I have to fix it, I can't leave it like this. Kirishima thinks while slipping out of his hero gear at the agency. He'd already made arrangements to end his shift a little early, originally intending to get back in the gym. Except.. He didn't feel much like actually going. Not anymore.

I need to find a way to apologize. Then, I need to prove that I'm not there to hurt her or spy on her..

He groans, forehead knocking into his locker door. But who do I get help from..? Bakugou is the only one that knows, and he would definitely prefer that I was spying on her!

"C'mon Eijiro, think think think.." He chants, pulling away from the metal and palming his forehead. Should he talk to one of the girls? Which one? Mina had taken up working at an Agency on the other side of the country, Ururaka was helping Midoriya on a mission that even Bakugou didn't know the details of, Jirou was--

Tsu! His head pops up at the epiphany, and he begins digging into his bag. Of course it's Tsu! She's really good with these kinds of things!

He pauses when the phone is finally in his hand, realizing that in his reflection on the screen--he was still very naked.

...Should probably finish changing first.

Once appropriate, he dials Tsu's number on his phone. Per the last reunion at Midoriya's place, he knew for sure her number hadn't changed since U.A.

Brrrr

'Click'

"Kirishima, is that you? Ribbet."

#kirishima x fem!reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #red riot x reader #eijiro kirishima #bnha fanfiction #slow burn romance #you know my usual #buncha ocs #kirishima x f!reader #kirishima x you #@lionheart2318 #@leahvengeance-blog #@chandiewashere

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lethargicsunlight · 3 years ago

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"It's Beauty and the Beast, but you aren't the Monster.." (fem!reader x Kirishima)🥀 Chapter 1 "Whistle Blower"

I'm finally posting it!! I hope you guys enjoy, and Thank You for Reading!

I have now started tag-lists! Please comment or DM if you would like to be added, and which fic you'd prefer to be tagged on! (Otherwise you will get tagged on all of them :} )

You might not be the monster everyone says you are.

WARNINGS: SFW, bodily injury, mental trauma, angst.

The mirror in your hotel room was too large.

You liked the small framed one that had been in your apartment. You imagined it now, in small parts and pieces--shards reflecting the sunlight as construction workers used large animal-like machines to remove the rubble and ravage the ground.

Poor mirror. You think with a sigh, a hand reaching for the puckered skin that traced like an arrow across your face; from brow to lip. An indication of the real present within the package that had been by your doorstep.

Poor me.

Insurance for random villainy was pretty good nowadays. You had been set up with temporary living until the Apartment building had completed reconstruction. It was a nicer hotel room too--apparently the owners of the complex had spared no expense when it came to tragic circumstance reimbursement. Explains why rent was so high.

As much as you mourned your lost home, your items, your slippers and sweaters and plush bath towels from that one fancy place in the mall that had been on sale--you had barely wept a tear since leaving the hospital. There was a numbness that had followed since waking up in a gown, dressed in plugs and wires and tubes. One that permeated the sadness one ought to feel after such a crisis.

And... well, you knew why.

Knock knock knock.

It's dread on your face when you drag yourself to the door over unfamiliar carpet.

Through the peep hole, you can see a man outside. By the telltale trench coat and paper coffee cup--and the uniformed policeman beside him--you can tell who it is. Detective.

There's a shadow off to the left, too far away to see.

Your eyebrows pinch and you take a full second to motivate yourself into pulling the door open.

"...Miss L/n." The detective addresses you formally, taking a bow. "We're here to discuss the incident, if you have time. We're investigating a rash of activity in your area..."

Detective 's eyes wander across your face then, and it isn't hard to miss the look of familiarity that flickers across a well worn brow. He remembers you.

Great.

"Right. Come on in, make yourselves comfortable." You say, voice only just above monotone droning; and you definitely don't return his respectable bow. The door slides further open and you move to a sleek grey seating area, overlooking a more-than-decent view of Esuha City.

The City you wanted to work for. Well, had. Had wanted to work for.

The way Detective sits across from you is uncomfortable. Stiff. His movements are deliberate, as he sets the cooling cup on the hotel-ish coffee table and removes a notebook from an inner coat pocket--

It isn't until now that you glance upon his other accomplice. A miracle really--most of his notable features were of the starkest red you'd ever seen. Not even crimson or scarlet or muted maroon; just red. Especially his hair.

Red Riot, the Sturdy Hero, you realize. But why is he here?

"You had mentioned in the statement that the package came with an envelope?"

Oh, right. Investigation turned suspect interview, coming up.

"Yeah."

He looks at you expectantly, and while you would love to continue being a salty (rightfully salty) bitch, you knew the consequence wasn't worth the few minutes of endorphins. So you go ahead, and tell him everything you had encountered. The package, the last few months of nothing, the neighbor with an odd obsession of watching loud music videos at one in the morning. You talk it all out in that same disinterested tone, hands pressed hard in your lap and eyes glazed.

From your peripheral, you caught the Sturdy Hero--a very large and would-be daunting man if it weren't for this permanent respectful smile he won't get rid of--occasionally staring at your face. No doubt checking out the scar.

If he had been anyone other than a Pro-Hero, you might have felt self-conscious.

The sound of Detective's pen scribbling notes onto his little cliché notepad began to grate on your nerves. Leave me in peace, you plead silently.

"Thank you for your cooperation." He says, rising from the not-very comfortable grey chair.

And you just couldn't resist--

"Cooperation? Aren't I the one that almost got blown up?"

The harsh turn of your voice causes the three to flinch.

"...Right, I meant..." Detective struggles, a hand grazing just beneath his own ear out of nervousness. "Apologies ma'm, it's been a long day. And, my a-apologies for your loss." He nods, curtly, before heading towards the door--clearly embarrassed.

"Hey, uhm.." Red Riot says, a hand out towards the detective--but the man is moving too quick, and really wants to be out of the room.

"Uh,..heh." He turns to you, broken smile turning sharp-toothed and polite as the other policeman heads out behind him. "It's nice meeting you, I'm Red Riot. I'm taking over patrol in the area so I, er, I thought I would.. Check in.. And..." His voice dies out once he catches your visual exasperation.

"I'm doing well. Have a good day."

He swallows, feet still planted for a few seconds after he stands up. Whether he was looking at you with sympathy or annoyance, you didn't dare to catch his gaze and find out.

If you faked it hard enough, you could convince yourself you didn't care.

"R..right. I'll be in the area. I would.. Suggest handing any packages you receive to the--"

"I'm not stupid."

"Right! AH, I mean--no, you aren't I was just uh.."

"Leaving?"

"...Yeah." It sounds defeated, and you swear he looks a little shorter as he leaves.

Air and tensed muscles leave your body at the sound of the door locking closed.

Peace at last.

🥀

"Hey uh.. What was that about?"

Detective Gina grimaces at the Pro-Hero's question. Fortunately, he was far enough ahead that neither of his accomplices could catch it.

"A job well done, if you ask me." He retorts, tempted to light a cigarette as they come out unto the bustling sidewalk. There's a creeping chill, and he tugs the trench coat a little closer. He almost scoffs when he looks back at Red Riot, who's hero costume barely consisted of a shirt and pants.

Show off.

"...Yeah, but.. She seemed kinda," he waves a hand, "I don't know. Mad at us. And, I won't lie--the way you talked to her wasn't all that nice, man."

Gina sighs, head shaking. He does pull out a cigarette after moving them to the smoking area outside of the hotel. He'd only been working loosely with the pro-hero for a few days, and in that short time he'd learned more than he liked about the young man. He was... forward, to say the least, about his opinions on--well most things. But hero-work in particular.

"Some people just are mad." Gina responds, palm over his lighter as takes a few attempts at lighting his cigarette. "And this isn't hero-work. We don't treat every person like a harmless damsel. You never know what people are capable of on the surface."

Kirishima's eyes drop to the ground at that. It was true enough--but it didn't satisfy him. His mouth is open to poise another question, but the policeman that had accompanied them had something to add.

"Yeah, sometimes it's the really simple looking ones too. I thought the name was familiar but--Gina, is she really the Whistleblower?"

Well, cat's out of the bag. Gina remarks inwardly, and he can't help the sigh that leaves his lips along with the smoke of his first drag.

"Whistleblower?"

"Before your time in these parts." Gina answers Kirishima's open-ended question with his teeth still clenched around the Tabaco. "It was a big case.. What, a year ago? Two?" He glances between them, but the silence that follows is a wordless request for explanation. Or, for the policeman, just a little gossip.

"...L/n was a high-priority candidate for the Hero Commission. Not as a pro-hero," He pulls another drag while he leans into the barring that separated large, frosted glass panes that sported 'SMOKING AREA' in simple black font. "She was in line to be an investigator. Like, a big one. Secret service stuff."

"So.. She's mad because she didn't get the job?" Kirishima guesses, waving a stream of smoke out of his face. Boy, he wondered what this guy's lungs looked like. Although, the stress of being a detective is enormous.. Something about that reminder makes him feel bad for being so annoyed about second-hand smoke his first day in this sector.

"...Not exactly. She had the job really, as far as I understand it. It's not a competition like hero-work, it's just about performance and certification. Up until that point, she'd played the game. It wasn't until last minute she tried something drastic."

"Something stupid," The policeman chimes, arms crossing over his chest.

"'Tried' something?"

"She accused one of the Elite." Gina frowns at his hands, realizing his cigarette was almost spent. They never lasted long enough. "See, she has a quirk kind of like one of the classics. NightEye in particular. She could see things that people did--particularly bad things. On the papers, they called her quirk: Judgement."

"Oh man, that's crazy impressive." Kirishima's eyes widen. The implication that someone could actually witness villainous events without being around to actually experience them--that's mind-blowing! No wonder she had been heading in that direction. Her quirk is priceless for that kind of work.

"Well, yeah, maybe. But remember it's like I said. You never know who's the damsel and who's a bad-guy based on the surface. You know, 'the book by the cover'. Before we all knew it, she was up there causing an uproar--threatening to tear the whole thing down. According to the top, it was a power play." A final drag on his cigarette, then he crushes it before throwing it in the bin. "Thing is, her quirk is only useful if the Commission can trust her. Everything she claimed couldn't be proven--so who's to know if she's lying or not?"

The realization is almost like a cold chill to Kirishima's shoulders. If someone with that quirk did come into power and used their influence to lie and attack the building blocks of their society.. It was a scary thought.

But something nagged at him.

He'd never had a reason to mistrust the Hero Commission. They had made mistakes, but they weren't in the spirit of malevolence. And, he knew that their verdict was probably the correct one...

But what if it wasn't?

Eijiro Kirishima had always based his assessments of people on their actions, and for some reason, he wasn't ready to accept what he'd been told.

"If she did something so extreme.. Why isn't she in Tartarus? Why wasn't something this big on the News?"

"She's educated in our justice system. Everything she presented and every response she gave was legitimate enough that they couldn't pin an actual felony. In the end, it was almost like she hadn't done anything anyway. But, seeing as how this will exist on her permanent record--it was punishment enough." While continuing to explain, Gina begins to retrace their steps back to the station. "She can't get a job in this field anymore. Everything she worked up to was revoked, including any and all quirk licenses."

Yeesh..

He actually feels a pang of sympathy. It was better than jail, but... that begs the question. Why would you work so hard to get to that point, only to ruin everything for yourself?

"Now, don't go around bringing that dredge up alright? The Commission wants to keep that case under wraps as much as possible. The villain network doesn't need something like her false claims to cling to." Gina ends the conversation there, taking a few more steps to get ahead before they merge with a crowd crossing an intersection. This was a Pro-Hero he was talking to. It went without saying that most of their conversations would be considered confidential.

What had originally been just an impulsive decision inspired by his teachings from FatGum to become more familiar with his patrol route--and more specifically to help instill some safety in the heart of a recently traumatized civilian--had quickly evolved into a personal investigation.

The more he learned, the more he wanted to know. Frankly, Red Riot's schedule didn't include a lot of free time, and getting involved with someone whose reputation was that bad was.. Insane.

But if curiosity wasn't a killer, there wouldn't be a saying about it.

And Kirishima himself was all too familiar with people who's reputations preceded their actual worth.

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lethargicsunlight · 3 years ago

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‘Demon’ Chapter 12 : “Lost Your Way” Bakugou X fem!Reader (Book 1)

Hey, Thanks for Reading!

There is now a taglist for this fic, feel free to comment here or on the Taglist directly if you want to be added: Link

And you can read the previous chapters here: Link

Book Summery: A slow-burn action/romance where you begin in the bowels of a Villain base and rise up to join U.A.’s top Hero Class. This life was your choice. In the event of learning then losing the love of a friend, you make a decision that changes your reality at the core–to become an imposter among villains and bring them down from the inside out. The organization that ruined your premature perfect life was known as H.H., after their leader Head-Honcho. His crime of choice: intelligence. Training and conducting espionage agents and assassins across Japan as a means to further the dark underground network. Your training began at thirteen, after managing to impress the multi-faced villain with your stealth and your conviction. Rumors would soon spread through the dark alleys of Naruhata City of a masked assassin known as Demon, whose bare face could steal the souls of her targets. Everything appears to be going to plan; but the Hero Agencies you’ve been slipping information to are calling for an end to your superior sooner than you had anticipated. Your time as 'Demon’ is limited. What will happen when your world comes crashing down? Where will you go, when everything you had known you helped to destroy?

You felt alive.

There'd certainly been a learning curve at first; you weren't accustomed to undergrowth and tree roots. You weren't used to leaves and insects and animals--you were raised in a more urban jungle.

But maybe it was the challenge that made you thrive. Bumping your shin and toes where you usually wouldn't--learning how to function in a more organic space; it was indeed a challenge.

But unfortunately for Ragdoll's mud-monsters, you were getting the hang of this.

There was a lot more cover and thick branches to vault over and slow down assailants. More opportunities for--

THWUMP

--better save the inner monologue for later.

You leap into a run, narrowly avoiding what you could only describe as a 'large earth arm sword'. Behind you, a knife had been tied about the diameter of a tree trunk via attached cord, and you were holding the extending end. You wouldn't be strong enough to bring the creature down, but if you could loop it around the next tree and use that boulder as a fulcrum…

With feet planted, you pull. The cord pulls taught and the beast lumbers in, tripping over it ungracefully and crumbling at the knees. The strain on your calves and biceps is painful--testament to the work you had put in the last two days--but the success is energizing. You release the cord and prepare an arrow on your bow, circling it from behind and waiting for the next move..

But the sunlight that dapples the beast is amber, and you can tell that the sun is setting. On cue, you can hear Pixie Bob through the ear piece.

"Whew! I think that's enough for today.. Come on back to camp, warrior girl!"

Warrior girl. It plasters a grin on your face from ear to ear while you put the arrow back in the quiver, and begin untying the cord from the girth of the tree.

----

The camp and the jungle felt like two separate worlds.

Stepping into the clearing, still covered in dirt and sticks and weapons, you see the hustle and bustle of your classmates and suddenly feel alien.

It causes you to look back at the seam of trees.

Was there a barrier between you, and this? Between you and them?

Oh right…

"Oh, hey!" Loud, but reassuring, Kirishima's voice welcomes you in a way no one else's could have. He's holding a bowl of something meant for the grill. "Wow, you look roughed up. In a good way though! Looks like training went pretty good huh?"

You notice that above his sharp-toothed smile, bags had formed beneath his eyes. Those extra lessons at night were probably weighing on him, but you knew he'd be fine.

Well--actually, hell, you probably looked tired too. Even Bakugou, lingering around the grill and scowling, had built a front to hopefully convince everyone he wasn't so exhausted. It hadn't worked, but it's not like anyone was going to say anything.

He catches you staring.

He mumbles, turning his back on you. The notion makes you smile, and you acquiesce to join Kirishima to help finish cooking dinner with everyone.

"It went well. It was… fun."

"Fun?!" Kirishima balks, exaggerating a complaintive look. But he sighs afterwards, "Well I mean, I guess I can't complain. Doing all this quirk training is pretty awesome. I can't wait to see how we improve really.. Just wish I wasn't so tired!" His stomach growls. "And hungry!"

He pulls a laugh from you, but before you can join him in mixing ingredients, Iida manages to stop you. "Excuse me, Y/n--I don't mean to be a bother."

"It's fine," You say and allow Kirishima to run ahead, answering a request of Kaminari's. "Something wrong?"

"Oh nono," He shakes his head, and his hand. "Just er--I think you might want to put the weapons away. Before cooking. For sanitary reasons, of course." He adjusts his glasses, looking almost embarrassed.

You take a cursory glance downwards. There's knives strapped to your thigh, your boots, your belt. There's wire and rope, there's a quiver on your back, a bow over your shoulder, the machete on your hip.

Yeah, Iida's probably right.

"Sure thing," You say quietly, "I'll just be right back."

"Thank you, I appreciate your compliance."

For you Iida? Always. And you turn about to place your weapons on the table next to the woods.

----

It surprises you, when a bowl of rice is slammed down to your right.

It's even more alarming, when the arm that had (not so gently) put it there--belonged to Bakugou.

Typically, you were the one finding a seat next to him. Especially mid-sentence, when he wouldn't notice you because you waited for the right punctuated words to leave his lips so he wouldn't hear your tray against the surface of the table; or perhaps the perfect scrape or slap of some other noise, to disguise your arrival.

You loved how angry it made him when he never noticed you until you wanted him to. But…

No, Bakugou never actually chose to sit next to you. Until today.

"Heh," He's giving you an aggressive grin. "Surprised ya?"

There's something sharp to his look. Like daggers, now suddenly pointing in your direction. You'd only ever seen such a gaze whenever he looked at Midoriya now, especially since the exams. You wonder, though, as usually Bakugou would only approach his rival to berate him--

"I saw all those weapons you were carrying earlier." He growls, picking rice up with his chopsticks. "You're quirk's so stupid, you need all of that shit to get anything done?"

Ah. There it is.

But the feeling that bubbles up in your chest.. Isn't anger.

It's pride.

You stare a moment longer though and keep your retort to yourself, stuffing a little bit of rice into your mouth to chew. He glares, then rolls his eyes. "It's not like I'm surprised. You hardly ever say anything, you little shit."

Another beat of silence. Confidence is quiet, you remark inwardly, justifying the fact you were actually just kind of nervous at the idea of conversing with him. Normally you would consider this a lost opportunity--but you were convinced that no one can say the right thing to Bakugou. If you spoke now, he'd find something to latch unto.

"Tsk," He returns his attention to his bowl, "Whatever, I know you aren't ignoring me. I just wanted to tell you, I'm going to beat you next time."

That piques your interest.

"Next time?" It comes out in an audible question, and you wished it hadn't.

"Yeah, next time." He seethes, head whipping back. There was a slight change in his eyes--like he was surprised you'd spoken back too. "One day, it's just going to be me an--"

"Woah, Bakugou! You're actually talking to.. Her…" Kirishima's voice dies in his throat, now catching the glowing and angry orbs of his 'best friend'. He coughs awkwardly, "…Uh…"

"Tch. It wasn't much of a conversation," He growls low, grabbing his bowl up from the table. "I'm going to bed."

"Hey man, you barely ate anything!"

"I SAID I'M GOING TO BED."

"…Hm. What's eating him?" Kirishima asks you, through some rice and curry that stuck to his sharp teeth. "I mean, what was he talking to you about?"

You watch Bakugou's stomping form disappear, and give the red-head a contemplative shrug. "He just… mentioned beating me in a fight."

"Sounds like him." He swallows the bite, small brows pinching as he leans a little closer across the table towards you. "I mean, Bakugou says a lot of mean things--but you know he doesn't mean them right? I kind of figured you did since you continue to hang out with us, but.. He means well. Most of the time."

You eyes involuntarily flicker across his face, then the table behind him. You can see Sero and Denki sitting there, eyes occasionally glancing your direction. Next to Sero is an empty seat--one you could only assume was meant for Kirishima.

You could now, also, assume; that Kirishima had sat here because he noticed Bakugou talking to you. He was trying to be a buffer for you.

It was sweet. He was, after all, there to take punches. You couldn't believe how long it had taken you to notice that behavior--in every lunch you spent with them, in every moment spent with them, where he diffuses the situation before it even starts.

It was sweet. But it's not what you wanted.

"Kirishima, I hang out with him for the same reason you do."

"Hm..? What do you mean?"

"He makes me better."

He stares at you for a moment, processing, and there's even some guilt in the way his eyebrows flex. "Oh. Y-yeah you're right, I shouldn't have doubted you.." He shifts to scratch at his neck, "It's kind of weird actually. You're so.. Small. And, after knowing where you can from, it just.. I felt like I needed to help you out, ya know?"

"But you don't."

"Yeeeah. I mean, look who's talking? Nevermind the Industrial Park, you kicked my ass your first week here!" He laughs, and you manage to laugh too. "Sorry, Y/n."

"It's fine." You say, and you finish eating early so he has enough time to sit with Sero and Denki if he wanted to.

----

The next day was just as exhilarating, and exhausting, as the last.

Due to Kirishima's extra lessons, you hadn't seen him since dinner the night before. You hoped your words hadn't damaged him--but something told you he'd be fine. You didn't catch Bakugou that morning either, assuming he'd headed out to train early.

Neither friend could dampen your spirits however; you were once again thrilled by your own training. By the end of it, you could feel the strain in most of your body--worse now since it had been two days in a row. Callouses had grown on your palms from the bow and the hilts of your blades. Your favorite was still the cable Yaomomo had created for you--it's usefulness knew no bounds.

You made a mental note of that for later--something to work on for your future hero costume tool-set.

"Phew, I think that'll be it for today.." Pixie Bob comes in through your head set sounding weary. You wondered how much of a toll this took on her.. "We have something special planned tonight, so hurry back!"

Special..?

-----

Just as you had finished up the class's makeshift home-cooked meal, you heard the Pussy Cats rallying the students towards the center of the clearing. "Alright everyone! We know you've been working super hard, so we've decided to do something fun tonight!"

A test of courage. They explained the rules, where a trail would be set up through the forest and students from one class would dot the outside of the path with the intent to scare participants of the other class using their quirks. Of course, it was a competition. Everything was a competition.

Via little number slips, everyone in Class 1A was being placed in couples. (Minus the kids with 'extra lessons'.. Poor Kirishima once again.)

Honestly, you didn't know how to feel about the whole thing. Similar to when you had been invited to go to the pool, you decide to take things in stride.

Everyone else seemed pretty excited.

Well--most everyone.

"WHAT, ICY-HOT?!" Bakugou points, rudely, at Todoroki's stoic face. "NO WAY! I WANT A TRADE!"

But trades were not allowed, and for all his supposed suffering, at least you knew he and Todoroki would mostly get along.

Now, as for you…

"Hey, Y/n!"

Midoriya.

"Hey." You answer him, certainly pleased with the outcome. Not that you didn't like any students in the class (although, you've heard Mineta is quite a nuisance--but he tends to leave you alone); still you really didn't have much time to talk to Midoriya. Considering he had been a large part of your life in the recent months, you almost felt bad about it.

"Looks like we're teamed up. You ready for this?" He asks, a little nervous with his speech. It makes you look up, watching the students of 1B disappear into the foliage. There was a moon out, but everything was still dark. All navy and deep gray.

"Ready as I can be." You admit, and there's a saddened expression on his face when you turn back to him.

Sympathy. He doesn't have to ask, he knows you've never done anything like this before. It creates a heaviness in your belly, and you wish he didn't know you. You wish it was more like the day he'd sat across from you at the café table--joyfully interacting with you and unaware of where you had come from. Unaware of the lie that you were forced to live with, so you could be here.

Above all, you wished everyone would stop thinking you were a victim.

"Well, uhm. It should be fun. I'll be honest though, I'm not great with scares." He says, offering you a wide and embarrassed smile. You'd be lying if you said that didn't make you feel better. Directing the attention to himself was kind.

"We can handle it." You respond, offering some encouragement.

"You're right. With your quirk, I'd bet they can't even scare you." He touches his chin, looking off into space. His usual thinking pose from class. "I remember that part of your quirk was 'advanced adrenal function'. I wonder if that means you don’t flinch when surprised? If you're in more control of your body during intense dangerous situations, then that would make sense. But, could that be disrupted somehow? Since your quirk comes from mutation…"

You honestly lose track of his mumbling analysis, but it's entertaining to watch him think so hard. Even if it was about something that wasn't real.

You wondered how he would react if he ever found out.

Eventually, someone comments on his mumbling, and he stutters to a halt with several apologies. You had expected a comfortable silence after that, so it surprised you when he found a new topic to talk about.

"Have you seen Kota?"

"Hm?" Who?

"Oh, he's the kid that's been around here since we got to camp. He's Mandalay's nephew."

You remember brief glimpses of said kid, with his interesting baseball cap and angry eyes. He seemed less than happy to be around, and his age was so similar to what yours had been when you left for the organization--looking at him too long had brought back memories you didn't want to see.

You nod, "Ah. No.. I haven't seen him." Something pinches in your gut. You're in training to be a hero--you can't just avoid children.

Something passes across his face, and you wonder if there's something he knows that you don't.

"Should we go looking for him?"

"No, I'm sure it's fine. He's… he's probably inside or something." He gives the quietest sigh, "I've been trying to convince him that heroes aren't bad. His.. Something happened when he was younger, and now he hates heroes."

The way Midoriya says 'hates heroes' relays a lot of information. Everyone knew Midoriya was a hero fanboy. Perhaps the thought of someone thinking so opposite to him was unbearable.

Or, it was more than that.

It was like he had seen something in the boy that needed to be fixed--and made it his personal endeavor to do so. It was a form of meddling that, typically, people weren't happy to endure, but always grew from.

After all, is that not what he'd done to you? In a moment where you had been in a well-practiced façade, he had brought forth the real you. Broken you down with the truest and kindest of intentions, meddling in your mission even when he hadn't meant to.

This guy. You think, trying to come up with some response.

"I'm sure you'll get to him." You say eventually. "You have a knack for changing people."

"…Thanks Y/n. That means.. That means a lot."

"What's that smell?" Someone asks from the crowd, "It smells like burning.."

Mandalay upturns her nose to the wind, nose twitching with effort. Everyone stops in their tracks, eyes scanning the horizon.. Until someone spots the smoke. "There! Is that a fire?!"

"Uh oh.." Midoriya mutters, and you follow his line of sight to see brilliant blue hues reflecting in the clouds of smoke somewhere in the forest.

"What is.." You begin to ask, but as you turn back to the center of the clearing you can see Pixie Bob being carried backward beyond the trees by an ominous pink aura. Dragging her back, a lizard and a guy with a really big magnet..

Villains.

"How are you this evening , U.A. High School?" The Lizard steps forward, arms outstretched while his accomplice presses the end of his magnet into Pixie Bob's temple. "We are the Vanguard Action Squad of the League of Villains!"

The League of Villains.

While everyone verbalizes their questions, who are they, what do they want, why are they here--Your heart hammers in your chest. It drowns out Mandalay's warning, as adrenaline pushes through your veins along with the memory of being stuffed between the walls in their base…

Their base!

The one, singular detail you had left out when the detective had interrogated you..! You've known all this time the location of those who had attacked the USJ, but you were so caught up living you dream you forgot to tell them!

"Shall I crush this girl's head? What do you think?" The man, sporting really tacky sunglasses, continues to press the large metal beam into Pixie Bob's temple. There's an awful crunch sound as her helmet further breaks.

"Like I'd let you, you..!" Tiger rears, but the lizard-man comes between them.

"Wait up, Mag! Don't be hasty.. You too, Tiger. Calm down." He turns to face the crowd, and you slip in behind Iida to disappear.

"It all depends on whether having power over life and death follows Stain's tenets or not."

"So you're the ones his ideology brought?!" Iida yells out, stepping forward. You switch to stay behind Koda, who's a little more stationary.

"That's right! I'm.." He then point forward. "Oh yeah, you, with the glasses! You were the one who brought about the end of Stain at Hosu City. I apologize for the late introduction.." He throws himself forward, pulling the blade from his back--which as actually a lot of blades, belted together into some crazy weapon.

"I am Spinner! And I will spin his will into reality!"

With the distraction, you take an opportunity to slip away. You knew the weapons you kept laid out on the table were nearby… if you could just get to it..

Warrior Girl.. Pixie Bob's voice plays over in your head, crushing your shoulders with the weight of guilt. If you had only told them, this may not have happened.

Once I get my gear, I can go back and--

'Everyone! We've been attacked by two villains! Get back to camp as soon as possible, do not engage with the enemy if you can avoid it! I repeat, do not fight them!'

You stop, body hidden in the bushes. Alone.

I should keep going. I should grab my things and head back to that fight. I need to help Pixie Bob…

That's what your heart says. Yet as you go to move forward, you also see glimpses of Nezu--paw outstretched.

He's standing atop his desk, looking up at you with an off-smile. "As a student, you will have to take care in following all of the rules Y/n. It's very important you take the role of an upstanding student, or it will damage your reputation. Too much damage, and I will not be able to keep endorsing you--even if I still want to. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

You growl in frustration, hands going to your scalp.

Either way.. You decided to compromise. Either way, my weapons are nearby. I'll grab them and go back to camp. If something happens there, I can… I can help out.

You rise from the forest edge at the table, taking inventory to make sure nothing had been stolen. It was all there, and you quickly assembled most of it unto your person. With the cord tied at your hip and the bow stretched over your shoulder (and you feeling much more comfortable), you begin heading back towards camp like the good student you were supposed to be--

"Is that a little runaway I see?"

You freeze.

You'd been quiet. Not silent, for the sake of all the weaponry on your person, but very quiet. Still crouched low, you slowly turn enough to see behind you.

It's a familiar face.

"Aw, look at you! Little stealthy hero, you are." Mandibles grind in front of his teeth as Sting smiles wide. "Lost your way, did you?"

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x f!reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha fanfiction #sfw fanfiction #slow burn #demon #@lionheart2318 #@leahvengeance-blog #@chandiewashere

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lethargicsunlight · 3 years ago

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“It’s Beauty and the Beast, but You aren't the monster..” (Fem!Reader X Kirishima)🥀 Chapter 3 “The Beast”

Had to put up a chap on Valentines Day for the big red man himself, right?

You might not be the monster everyone says you are.

WARNINGS: SFW, bodily injury, mental trauma, angst, BLOOD

The prince rallied his forces in the West, and prepared for their battle in the Steppes. The carrier eagles spread across the continent, seeking all who were friend to their king that were willing to take up arms against the enemy.

It pained the prince, knowing he would endanger his people once again--but to that end, he would stand with them on the battlefield and face such danger head on like his soldiers.

His red hair--

You flinch in your typing.

Red hair?

You shake your head--surely you had written him with black hair?

Despite having been in the process of writing this rough draft for almost a year, you dash back through a hoard of document files to find the character references.

Sure enough, black hair.

Anger boils in your chest, and you slide the laptop away from you on the hotel's (single) counter top. Not even your secret world could be free from the toils of the real one; you had found that blasted red-headed man almost every time your eyes had shut. Now, it was happening while your eyes were open.

The glimmer of hope you had felt at the cross walk should have been smothered, but somehow it came back every morning. It reminded you of a time when you had wanted to talk to people--when you had wanted people to talk to you.

He just wants information. You remind yourself, picking up your stiff bones to find the hotel's tiny-ass refrigerator. All that stuff he said was just manipulation. And I don't want to talk to anyone. And I don't want anyone to talk to me.

After another go of trying to convince yourself, you switch your focus to something else.

Your apartment's reconstruction was due to be completed within five days. Due to the structure being sound enough (and the fact the construction in bustling cities like Musutafu were required to work rather quickly due to subsequent villain and hero battles) the revival of your home was fast approaching. Thank god.

Unfortunately, being an author didn't allow for fancy insurance perks. You had already received a check for the damage to your items, but it was far less than the accrued worth of your home furnishings. Once again, you would be forced to pay and save and pay and so on--until it was back the way it was. Or at least similar.

The hotel's mini-fridge mostly contained leftovers. Which, that had been your intention but.. Looking at all of it...

It just felt ew.

Dinner out it is then.

🥀

There's something to be said about the food service industry in Japan, perhaps even Esuha City specifically.

If you want your food quickly without a chat and to be left alone at your table, you could find it.

You had ruminated on the idea of leaving before, to put as much distance between you and the Hero Commission as possible. A cottage in the United Kingdom, or a cabin in America; maybe Maine or Michigan.

But.. This was home. Your apartment, the rainy season, the red and golden leaves, the corner-store ice-cream, the sticky summer sweets in the next town over--The Hero Commission may have taken the hope out of you, but damn them if they think they can have your mochi too.

"Oh my gosh..!"

Suddenly the café on your right comes alive. There's a couple, one now standing next to their chair and their partner on one knee--a ring clutched in shaking hands. The crowd 'ooh's and 'awww's.

"Will you marry me?"

"Of course!"

And they hug, and the café erupts into applause. And you stare, from the sidewalk, somewhere between melancholic and exasperated. You really didn't need this today.

"Now ain't that a beautiful sight." A voice says, too close to your right side. You flinch and glance--he's wearing a thick jacket and a fur-lined beanie. His features are so unremarkable, you don't even mentally take stock of them.

"...Uh huh." You drone, than try to speed off so you can pass the café. No offense to the newly engaged couple, but you were trying far too hard to keep up your solitary lifestyle to deal with reminders like that.

🥀

Ugh, finally!

Relief at last, as you waltz into one of your favorite restaurants. There are booths at the front, but closer to the kitchen there are one-person nooks. A tablet, attached to the wall, takes your order and starts up a bill. A drink arrives via a window in said nook only minutes later, and your feet sway in delight.

Or was it... complacency?

NO. You inwardly chastise, taking a loud sip no one could pester you for. This is how it aught to be. This is great. No one to taunt me, no one to treat me terribly or make me feel ugly. I can eat as fast and as sloppy as I want. No one's controlling me, no one's--

It's by chance, pure chance, that you look over your shoulder when you hear the door open and the jingle of their entrance alarm. A movement in your peripheral that catches your attention, draws a quick glance, that usually you didn't bother with. Who cares who just walked in?

Unless it's the same person that tried to talk to you earlier, in his fur-lined beanie. Well, except, now as you pay a little more attention--it's not a fur-lined beanie. It's a fur-lined face. A mutation quirk.

Is it coincidence? Paranoia gnaws into your bones, and you know the truth. Coincidence or not, one way or another, he followed you here.

The jingle comes again, and you watch four more people cross the thresh-hold and join the aforementioned...wolf man? They're all dressed warm, but you're pretty sure the thick jackets and low hats don't just hide their features out of convenience.

Your food arrives through the window in front of you, and you mentally groan. Not only were you being followed by probable villains looking for an easy score, but you wouldn't be able to eat your meal. Or get a refund.

You take one last forlorn draw of breath, taking in the steam and aroma of your would-have-been meal, before reaching to the tablet and paying for it. There's actually a little bit of guilt in your heart, knowing they'll be cleaning an untouched dish from your table. Sorry. I'm so sorry. It's really good, I'm just.. You know, about to get mugged. Gotta call the police. Maybe I'll get take out from here later.

Silently you rise from your seat and walk out. If all went well, you'd just go to another place. If it was a mugging, as you suspected, there was a convenience store near the hotel that you could stop in after writing--another--police report. Wow! Two for two this year.

And, heading further into the well lit streets of Musutafu's most populated ward, all seems well. They didn't follow you out, nor have you seen them over your shoulder for the last three cross walks. Great. Left my meal for nothing.

Maybe you needed to go to a therapist after all. Maybe, you could use a fake name or--was anonymous clients a thing?

You'd accused Red Riot of working with the commission to torture you, and now you had accused warmly dressed people for wanting to just, mug you? You didn't even look like you had money. Sure, it could be more nefarious than that, but with heroes everywhere in the city? What happened to your sense of truth?

They took it away. You reply within, causing your foot steps to slow and your shoulders to hang.

Maybe you had been wrong, but it was better to be careful, right?

You reach for you phone with the intention to check the time. There were still a few places open late but--

Where's my phone?!

Frantically you search for it a second time. Then a third. Had you left it at home? Dropped it? Left it at the restaurant? You turn on a heel and start heading back. The new lap top had already been quite damaging to your funds, you couldn't afford a new phone; muggers be damned.

🥀

"What are you doing out here?"

"Huh?" Kirishima looks up to see one of the sidekicks from FatGum's agency. "Oh! Hey," He says, but stops. He can't quite remember this guy's name. There were so many nowadays, scouted for and hired in an attempt to help counter the swell in recent villain activity.

"Hey," The un-named sidekick offers a polite smile. "Kinda late isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah. Most of my patrols are during the day but, it was brought to my attention that a lot of the packages were probably delivered at night. Just thought it was a good idea."

"So you're on, like, extra patrol? Without your hero costume?"

"Yeah," Kirishma, not Red Riot, scratches the back of his neck in some form of embarrassment. This guy liked asking questions. "Just trying it out, not looking conspicuous or anything."

"Oh. Okay." Sidekick-guy looks around a moment, extending their conversation into something kind of awkward before opening his mouth again. "Well, I'm heading home, so. Good luck!"

"Er, yeah, thanks. You too..?"

And they're gone.

Weird. Kirishima shakes it off, then continues his stroll. Guess he's just tired though. I should probably go back to the Agency and pick up the roster, it's rude not to know people's names when you work with them...

He comes to a corner and stops, looking up at the hotel--your hotel--for the fifth time that night. Not that he was obsessed or anything, it was just.. On the route. His call with Tsu had been enlightening--though, he wanted to disagree with her on some things; especially the 'giver her time' part. He wanted to fix his mistakes now.

His heart aches when he remembers the first night at their dorms in U.A., so long ago, when he'd unintentionally upset Tsu when he and the others went forward with their plan to save Bakugou. Though it was successful, he was ashamed that he never thought about how Tsu would feel when they directly ignored her advice.

Gah, and it still hurt to think about it!

And thus, he chooses to follow her advice to the letter this go round, and continues on his path to the next street over.

🥀

You know what it sounds like: when someone is following you.

And you, poor you, had made a very bad decision. What had you said earlier---'muggers be damned'?

Yeah, that wasn't serving you too well right now.

The streets' population had thinned on your return trip to the restaurant. Somehow, everything looked darker and more desolate--to the point you wondered if you had perhaps made a literal wrong turn--

Before your eyes you watch a street sign change. The letters, in white, wiggle and shift until it makes a new word--a street you swore you passed several blocks back.

Someone was manipulating your environment. Or, your brain's interpretation of it.

No phone, no real weapon aside from a hotel key card and a dense wallet, (note that you did in fact own a very nice self-defense kit in your apartment but uh--it blew up recently) and the defensive side of your quirk--which was fucking unpredictable at best.

Hence why pro-hero work wasn't really an option.

You stop then, but there's a distinctive sound of shoes shuffling on concrete nearby. This clearly felt like being hunted down, and honestly if not for the peril it was causing you--this would make for some good writing material. You know, if you live through it.

"Okay, I know what's going on." You say, hands up. "Look, I don't know what you want, but I don't have a whole lot. I can give you my credit card if you want it, but I'm just warning you--not a lot on there."

A few seconds of silence pass by at your confrontation. Oh, what, am I being mugged by ghosts? But, the agitation grows despite your mental humor.

Their response comes in the form of visually appearing ahead of you, wiggling and writhing at first like the letters on the sign. After they had solidified, they approaching like predators; low to the ground with hungry eyes beneath heavy warm attire.

Your stance widens.

I don't think they're here for my wallet...

Suddenly, more of them begin to pop and shift into existence--much closer to you than the first few. The way reality seems to flex around them was really unnerving; but it gave you a better idea of what was going on. Whosever quirk was influencing you had a range, and that was good to know. Additionally, though, the original five you remember from the restaurant had at some point turned into about ten, which meant some of them might be illusionary.

And your quirk doesn't work on illusions.

"Okay.. Okay, I see, money's not your thing.." You take a step back, eyes darting between all of the assailants. "You guys know if I scream, a pro-hero--"

"Go ahead~" Someone says, but obviously not one of the entities in front of you. It's a feminine sultry voice with something else, something animalistic. Snake-like. "No one's going to hear you, dear. Not while my eyess are on you."

Shit, shit shit shit--you take another step back, pulling out that hotel room key. Better than nothing. You had some decent self-defense training, they won't take you down without a fight even if your quirk doesn't activate.

"Finally got you talking.." You grumble, holding the (damn near pathetic) hotel key up like a knife. "What are you stalking me for? What do you want?"

"Let me guesss, you're expecting ssome kind of reveal?" The voice, hidden beyond your probably-fake environment, answers. "Ssorry ssweetheart, thiss is just bussinesss."

You threw as many 's's in there as you could, didn't you? You ask inwardly, but your lips remain tightly shut. Angering your opponent probably wasn't a good idea--if what she said was true, it sounded like an arrangement. A mercenary oriented one.

You know. Murder.

"Oh," You utter, grieving a little for not having a witty comeback.

Luckily, or unluckily, your awkward conversation comes to an end by way of a classic knuckle punch, thrown in your direction by one of the more burly looking assailants. You manage a dodge, twisting and moving back enough to see claws as their hands reposition from a fist.

Mutant quirk, animalistic in nature--probably enhanced strength, speed, durability. If I can think fast enough--

A blow hits, right in the side at your lower back. You pivot forward, conveniently back into the arms of your first attacker. There, he lands another blow to your upper chest that leaves you gasping, but your conscious enough to move your body out and away. Well sort of--the rest were encircling you. Surely not all of them were real, but you had no way of telling them apart.

Had you really been out of the game so long, you couldn't hold your own anymore?

Of course.. going to the gym and practicing fighting moves hadn't really been on your agenda since leaving the court rooms.

You cough, righting yourself as they stare at you with smiles and gleaming eyes--like dogs, pouncing on small animals for fun.

"Nice scar," One says, leaning in. "Pity, you really did have.. a kinda pretty face."

You glower at him over your hotel key.

"Almost felt bad leaving the package.."

"Who wants me dead?" You ask, looking--well winded, but more confident than they probably wanted you to look.

"Why does it matter? You're dying today, girly. Who cares?" Another responds, similar in tone. Related, you note--for once you find him amongst the crowd, he is also similar in stature.

"Dying wish then." You retort, with a little shrug.

There's an uneasy, tense, exchange of stares then. A sixth sense, you realize, as they see through your façade and attempt to validate it with their comrades. Like you had something up your sleeve.

And, indeed, you did.

"Save it for your next life," is their answer, followed by another thrown fist aimed at your cheek bones. Veins and tendons bulge as the wallop is tensed, then thrust forward, and it gives you only a few seconds to use your quirk--

But it's enough.

🥀

Eijiro, still walking his rounds around the sector, still dropping glances at your hotel as he walks past, now stands in front of a vintage console store. He heaves a great sigh while watching pixelated characters hop, kick, and dance across the display screens--characters he knew well. One day, they would be selling his old video games, labelled as 'vintage classics'.

The thought depressed him. But hey, time has to move somehow.

...Despite his positive outlook, his mind wanders back to Bakugou--and more importantly, that look he'd given him. The once-in-a-blue-moon glimpse into his friend's actual feelings.

Maybe he was just making things up--maybe he just wanted Bakugou to regret not hanging out, or being a human being for once and establishing relationships with people outside of work--but he was almost sure it had been real.

"Heh.. I can hear it now." He mutters, catching his reflection in the glass that separated him from the television screens. He puffs out his chest, and digs in his eyebrows. "We're heroes, Kirishima. We have to make sacrifices. You can't be the best if you're worried about dumb shit like--" He stutters for a second, almost losing character. "Like--relationships and parties and..."

He falters, the impression sliding from his shoulders and causing them to slump.

"And living." He says with a finality. A final nail in the coffin, as he watches a character get taken out on the screen followed by big "K.O." written in orange font.

Kirishima had learned long ago that he didn't want to be the best. He denied it at every turn, at every query someone threw at him--even if it was himself in the mirror. You wanna be the best don't you? Work harder!

And, well, he did work hard. Just, not as hard as Bakugou.

Despite the green monster of jealously that might swell in his gut while watching his friend's name rise on the leaderboard, there were always days like these that humbled him. And plenty of others, when he was actually protecting a civilian or stopping a truck from crushing a bunch of school kids; it was in the doing. It didn't matter where his name was on the leader board.

In fact, there's a deep sympathy that he feels for Bakugou in that moment.

"I wish I could reach out to you man." He says, before going back to his walk. This time, he would be heading back to the agency. "I hope--"

He stops, shoe skidding over sidewalk as a scream splits the air.

🥀

Using your quirk had a tendency to make you feel blind when you otherwise weren't using it.

It's refreshing, despite how much it.. sucks.

Living several minutes, sometimes hours, within seconds of the moving world--between spaces and moments and memories and matter--it's indescribably big.

And it is, perhaps, because of that feeling; that you change.

You remember the doctor when you were young, who tried to explain it to you in words you understood. But, you technically never remembered the words--all you could see was a younger version of them, stealing from a convenience store. Over and over and over again.

In some way, under high stress, your quirk would shift. Usually it was directed as an emitter type; but based on whom you were gazing upon, Judgement would make a decision--and in the face of danger, morph into a transformation quirk. Supposedly, the malevolence of your opponent directly affected the size and duration of this shape-change. This was only negated in a safe environment.

Fortunately for you, these guys were seasoned mercenaries, and murder was pretty high up there on the malevolence scale. So you were big. Just as big, you might say, as the hatred that festered at the sound of their dying victims screams, gurgles, and gasps.

When you come back from the visions, you're thrashing. You're wholly unaware of your features, but your claws digging into the earth below hint at something truly gruesome.

Better than a damn hotel key!

"What the hell--"

"Mizuchi, you didn't say anything about this shit!"

"Ugh, that'ss what you get for taking your time!"

They come at you anyway, brandishing weapons this time in the form of pipes and broken bottles; whatever the street could provide. The first thwack of a pipe to your enlarged form has your back twisting, and you find horns adorning your crown as they knock the assailant backwards.

Nice.

Following him would be another, but you grasp the ability to fight like an animal pretty quickly. There was a maw for biting as well--but despite knowing their horrid truths, there's always something that keeps you pulled back. Some lurking old version of yourself that still wanted to tame the beast.

Yet, even with that sentiment, accidents happen.

One of them screams, as one of your horns protrudes through a shoulder; painting the sidewalk in red. It causes the inner you to lurch, but your physical form only growls in response. By trying to shake him off, you throw him instead. Oops.

You try to step away, but your backed into a corner. One that technically shouldn't exist, but it takes a second before the illusion ripples and fades out to reveal you had instead been fighting in an alley way.

Maybe that will stop them. Maybe, they'll take the hint and move on to someone else--

You would have hoped, if not for the shards of glass that slice through the flesh of your shoulder. Inwardly you might of screamed, but you outwardly roared--clutching at the wound with one arm while lashing out with the other. You nail a good hit, claws bared, and they scream too.

"What the--hey!"

A familiar voice..?

You try to look in their direction, but another bottle cuts into your left temple. You whirl back on them, but the troupe was already leaving. There's an animalistic urge to run after them, and you even step forward--but with your foot (paw?) landing on even more glass, you halt in place. Instead, your frustration leaves your lungs in a loud roar.

Finding your breath, you hear the sound of scraping metal from behind.

"Listen man, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.."

Red Riot? Again?

You go to turn and look at him, but you stop midway. No, I can't. I can't look at him.

"Just come quietly, and we won't have to make this a bigger mess than it already is.."

Oh, shit--he's talking to me.

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