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plush-rabbit · 1 year

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The League Comforts You

A/N: I really don’t like holidays

You never really understood why you kept coming to family events. It's not like you liked your family. Well, that's not quite right either. You love your family, and they love you, but you think if you had met them and were strangers, you wouldn't like them nor would they like you. They're mean and exclude you, and when you try to match their energy, you come across as mean and rude. You like your peace and quiet, you never really minded being alone, but you still can't help but feel hurt when they have fun without you and don't seek you out.

You're sitting at the end of the couch, nursing on something alcoholic to get you through the chatter- through the teasing remarks about you still being single, about you still being as quiet as ever. You smile with your teeth and take another sip. You glance at your phone- there’s no notifications other than online sales and emails. You have no messages from your friends since they're all busy with their own families who love and like them.

You wish that you were home.

Laughter is loud in the house and everyone is engaged with someone in a conversation. You try to put yourself in a conversation but you’re laughed at and your ears burn hot, and you hate yourself just a bit more. You're sure that if you got up right now and excused yourself outside and never came back in, they wouldn't notice that you left.

The bottle in your hand is empty, and you rise from the end of the couch and quickly, your space is taken, the crowded couch now more breathable without you. No one asks you anything, they don’t question why you’ve stood up, but you still tell them why. I need some air, to be right back. You smile and grab your things, placing the empty bottle next to the other bottles on the table. Your phone is tucked into your back pocket and you hold tightly onto your charger.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that the night life is bustling, that it’s fun and bright and you hate the people that have fun with others. The walk back home is loud. There are bars packed with people, groups of people walking in a tight group along the sidewalk, cars passing back with streams taped onto them. There's confetti and plastic cups and glass bottles on edge of the sidewalk and you stand in front of a bottle with the label missing, debating in picking it up and being a good civilian or picking it up and risking whatever germs someone else had, now on your, unable to properly wash your hands.

You decide to let the issue be left for someone else, the streets of the city can remain dirty for one more night. Blowing out a puff of air that forms into a cloudy puff, you walk past the bottle, holding on tight to your charger.

Finally, you’ve made it home, and you tell yourself to not be disappointed if you check your phone and no one has checked in on you. It’ll be fine. You don’t need them. If your phone has no notification, then that’s fine. It’s fine. You suck in a deep breath of air and hold onto it, and you check your phone.

You haven’t received a single call or text from any of your family members.

The keys shake in your hand and you feel like crying. You aren't sure why. You don't care if your family doesn't like you. Well, you do, because of course you do, you've always been sentimental about family even if they aren't. Even if they're a bit mean towards you and leave you out if things, but they're your family. You still cling to the past, wanting to remember them as they were clinging to you, how they loved you and cherished you, how you were close to your cousins. But you’ve grown up now, and all that familial love has thinned, you’re left starving for it.

The lock clicks open, and you enter your home. You kick your shoes off and drop your things on the table. It’s dark, and it’s lonely, and you tell yourself that it’s fine. That it’s better when you’re alone because you can do what you want. You try not to worry about the tears that have welled in your eyes and are burning, you bite the inner corner of your lips when you let a cry whimper out.

And finally, you reach your room, and close the door with a smack, trying to keep your composure until you’re in bed. But then the light clicks on, you aren’t alone.

Bubaigawara Jin:

The closing door was enough to wake him from his short nap, but you crying, was enough to jolt him awake. Jin hadn’t expected you to be home- you had mentioned how you were excited to be with your family after so long, that he assumed that he was going to have your place to himself for a few hours before you returned. You always talk so fondly about your family, and he listens, trying not to interject because it’s one of the few times that you share so much about yourself. It’s not like he has anything to share either way- so many of his memories are muddled, and most of the ones about his family are nonexistent, he can’t even really remember what their faces looked like. He doesn’t mind when you talk about your family- he welcomes it, it’s nice to hear you talk and even when his other starts to interject, it’s always something nice, sarcastic, but nice.

Your home, and you’re crying- well you’re close to tears, breathing in deeply and fisting your hands at your side, and he doesn’t know what happened. You seem fine- no skinned knees or bloody lips. You’re okay- physically. Hopefully. So what happened? And the question is forming on his tongue and fills the room, and it’s less than polite, a bit crass and with sleep lingering in on his voice, it’s easy to mistake it for annoyance. But you know him- of course, you wouldn’t take for anything other than just him. At least, he believes that that’s true, but then you start to cry, and he realizes that he shouldn’t have been senseless with you. You’re already near tears, of course, anything harsh would have made you start crying, but then you rush to him and as he’s sitting up, you hug him, and sit on his lap, and you’re pulling him closer to you.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn't felt relieved when you chose to sit on his lap and pull him close- you’re still crying, but at least he knows that it’s not because of him, that you still want him to hold you. You;ve always been there for him, and you try to understand him, and you never really leave him alone, and he wants to do the same for you. He holds you tight, and his hands are ever moving- running up and down from your arms to your back, to your thighs, and back to your arms, and starting the cycle all over again, desperate for your cries to quiet down. Maybe he should do something right now- No. He should be doing something right now. Panic runs a cold chill down his spine, and he blurts out that he’s glad that you’re here with him. He could do without the crying, and he immediately fixes that little slip up, but you only snort, apologizing, and kissing at his collarbone. Of course, you wouldn’t take offense to it.

In a quiet voice, when you’ve settled, and your legs spill over the edge of the bed, he asks if you need anything, juice, alcohol, candy, smokes? Anything at all, he’d go rushing out to get it for you. And you shake your head, telling him that you just want to stay with him like this for a bit longer, reaching for his hand to hold in yours. You trace up and down his fingers, across each ring of lines that circle around his finger, and trace on his palm. You tell him that you would have liked to take him out tonight. Maybe to meet your family- an hour max- and then go get something to drink afterwards. He’s never met your family, but he hates how they’ve made you cry. If it were anyone else, they’d regret it, but he knows how you feel about family, he knows that hurting them would only hurt you, that it wouldn’t make you feel better, it’d only push you away from him, and isolate you further. He doesn’t want that. He kisses the top of our head, and he says that maybe when it’s cold out, he can wrap himself in a scarf and you two could go out-it’s be cold, but he could treat you to something warm.

A part of him wishes that he could have met you before everything went so awful for him. No. All of him wishes for that. If you accept him as he is now- a villain with a dissociative disorder- then maybe you’d like him back when he was younger, when he was making ends meet, and could hold up a job. Maybe during his life of theft, he would’ve stolen something nice for you- a ring, maybe. But, you met him as he is now, and you still want to be with him, and you even wish you could show him off to your family. You wish you could be seen with him. And maybe that makes up for all the string of bad luck that has followed him around his entire life. And with you tracing the lines on his palms, lying and making up what the lines mean- a long life, a wealthy life, lovers past and future. He thinks your crap at telling fortune, but he likes the life that he has with you now. He kisses the top of your head, and holds you tight, the lines that you’ve traced burning his palm, and lays back down, smiling when you let out a squeak and a laugh mixed together.

Dabi:

He doesn’t really spend the night at your place as much as he should. It's too quiet at your home, too neat and orderly, too tucked away in its own little corner with the only noise available being your fan that hums. Dabi is used to the noise, the screeching of tires and yowling cats and barking dogs, the loud, drunken laughter and belches of people, that being in your home makes him feel discomfited. He’s only staring at your ceiling, trying to force himself to sleep until you shut the door and he’s alert. Heat tickles and burns his palms until he realizes that it’s you, and in the next moment he realizes that you’re crying, and he’s throwing his legs over the edge of your bed, and you meet him at your bed, rushing to him, and holding him. You cry silently, whimpering and taking in shaky breaths that shudder throughout your body. Your hands are cold as they hold onto him, pressed against his thinned shirt.

Your tears don’t last- you cry and you sniffle and when you pull away, your face is wet, and can’t look him in the eye. He stays still beside you, and you’re silent, pulling your hands away and twisting them in front of you. The silence is killing him worse than before, he needs something to fill the air, and it’s always been you, always humming or talking about something or another that he’ll listen to and remember when he’s stuck somewhere else. Slowly, his hand reaches over to your side, his index and middle finger wrapping around your thumb and pulling it towards him, his thumb rubbing softly over your thumb knuckle. He offers you something- alcohol, you know, just to get the edge off a bit, he reasons, whispering into the quiet room. You shake your head, and twist yourself to wrap your arms around him, your face nestled against his chest.

Even after all these years, all this resentment and hatred, he hates that he understands why you’re so sentimental; he hates knowing why you want to hold onto the fond memories of your family, and why you seek their validation and love. He had hoped that after being with you, that he would have gotten better at being able to provide some type of comfort, that he could do more than sit on the bed and let you cry. You start out slow, and he realizes that it’s because the pain is still too fresh, the humiliation and the exclusion are burning through you and making you shake beside him. It isn’t a big deal- it shouldn’t be a big deal. You’ve been excluded from conversations loads of times, this isn’t anything new, and yet it still hurts as if you were a child facing rejection for the first time all over again. You talk about how you aren’t treated like an adult, but neither as a child, a weird middle ground, a punching bag because if you fight back, if you return the same energy, you’re mean. It isn’t fair for you- to have to face the constant pressure from them when you’ve been doing so well, when you’ve finally feel like you’re on the right track.

Words fill the air, a spew of nonsense that comes from him, slow and unsure, trying to find something to say, but being unable to fill it with any meaning. All he’s aiming for you is to be distracted, to think about anything else than your family. The thing about him is- and you learned this quickly- he will never talk about his own family with you; try as you will, he never utters a single word about them, and he knows that it irritates you, but it’s his own thing to deal with. But he understands you, and he doesn’t know how to fix it, because his own solution was to kill himself, and now he’s missed so much of his youth and his own body is no longer his. But it’s about you and your pain, and he doesn’t know how to make you feel better other than just talking. He tells you about how quiet your room is when you’re not there, and how he likes the scent of your new soap, and that he might have ruined a towel, and you laugh, it’s short, but you laugh and he pulls down on the bed, pulling and letting his hands run underneath your shirt till your laying beside him, your back pressed against his chest and his nose rested in the back of your scalp, nestled into your hair.

His body aches, and you’ve laced your hand with his, trailing it from the soft curve of your stomach, to the swell of your chest and resting it above your heart. Every breath that you take is getting slower, and heavier. Dabi wonders to himself, if he ever will tell you about his family, how his father threw him aside, how he said such awful things to his mother and how he wished he could have apologized, how there was a moment in time where all he wanted was to have them hold him and tell him that he’s been forgiven, and held like a child. He calls your name, and after a moment, you squeeze your hand, and he knows you’re already asleep, in the odd place between sleep and consciousness, and he won’t pull you away from that. If things were different and he weren’t born with a cursed body, that he would have liked to sleep with you in a quiet room, that he wouldn’t let you feel alone in a room filled with others.

Iguchi Shuichi:

Shuichi thinks to himself that he probably shouldn’t have come over- that maybe it would have been better for him to just have stayed back at the base. But you look so pitiful, and he knows that you need him- hopefully- he still isn’t quite sure how to tell whether you need comfort or space. He clears his throat, and awkwardly opens one arm, inviting you to come sit with him, and you nod. With you so close, he can see the tears in your eyes, how they swell and catch on your lashes, and he wonders if you’ve looked like that the whole walk home. You slip into the space that he’s created, leaning on him, and wrapping your arms around his torso as he leans against the headboard of your bed. He’s hardly ever seen you cry from something that wasn’t from a television show or a video game, and he knows what to do in those scenarios, hear you out and nod along, and it shouldn’t be different in this case, but the atmosphere and the way that you hold yourself feels so much heavier than it’s ever have before.

Softly, he asks what happened, his body shifting to hold you at a more secure position. His hands lay on you, and when you don’t respond, he adds that you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. He can hear you intake deep, shaky breaths, trying to catch letters and shape it, only for you to stay silent. He decides to talk before he can lose any of his nerves. You were supposed to be with your family. How come you’re not? You were so excited too. He regrets talking immediately when you begin to cry, latching onto him and going to hold at one of his hands. You clasp onto him with such strength, and you need him at the moment. He tries to soothe you, but the only he knows how is to scratch at your back, slow, steady movements where his hands reach underneath your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin against his claws. It’s steady, and it keeps you grounded enough to have you go to a quiet whimpering, with your hand cupped over his chest.

Something must have happened. Of course, something had to have happened if you had come back with tears in your eyes, so desperate to hold onto any part of him, and only cry further when he asks directly about your family. He doesn’t really get it. He always thought you had a nice relationship with your family- you speak so highly of them, and yet, you’re here, crying on his chest. You know enough of his own backstory to understand that he didn’t have a good support system- or any for that matter. Even if mutant quirks have grown more accepting in a city, the country and town life is still difficult. People still look down on him for being anything less than normal. Only a few looked past his quirk- you included, and he can never thank you enough for that. He tells you all of this, and he apologizes to you, that he wasn’t there for whatever it was that happened. There are times that he wishes he was still a shut-in, that he ever saw Stain on television and never got inspired, and maybe then, he would have met you in a grocery store or something. But he also knows that he never would have met you, and if he did, he wouldn’t have bothered with you, because Stain sparked something inside of him, and then you did so, when he realized there was something past reshaping society that was worth living for.

Slowly, you start to speak, grabbing at the hand that isn’t scratching up and down your back, and placing it over your cheek, holding it there. You’ve never been good at socializing with your family. You love them, but you aren’t like them, and he understands that sentiment. He taps two fingers against the soft plush of your cheek, encouraging you to continue with your story. You go on and about how lonely you felt- how everyone was with someone and you were alone. It was a room full of loved ones and all you could do was pity yourself and hold an empty bottle. You felt like you did when you were younger. And you hated it. You felt so embarrassed and they didn’t even call after you left- and your voice cracks. He shushes you quietly, and moves the hand that is resting on your back to curve over your waist. You’re here with him now and even though it’s not what you had planned for the night, he’s happy that you’re here with him.

Shifting under you, he moves until you’re laying beside him, and he can stare at you. Your eyes are rimmed red, and there are tear tracks that curve down your cheeks and dry at your chin. With a shaky hand, he reaches to wipe away the tear tracks, and you lean into his touch. He smiles softly, and he asks if there’s anything more that you want to get off of your chest. He isn’t fond of his family either, but he has you now, and the League, and he thinks that’s all that really matters- found family or something like that, that you like to fantasize about. Nervously, he inches closer to you, and your breath is warm and it smells sweet and it must be the drink that you talked about, and he leans in, and there’s pressure against his snout, until you twist your head and kiss him back, pulling away to intertwine your body with his, hiding your face into the crook of his neck, and peppering kisses along there as a show of thanks.

Sako Atsuhiro:

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this side of you. You've cried before him, but it was reactionary- you watched a show and cried, you’ve read a book and clung to him, whining and moaning about how they deserved a happy ending- things like that. You’ve never closed a door so roughly, not on purpose, not without saying a quick sorry to the inanimate object. You’ve never closed a door with tears in your eyes, looking so sad. Atsuhiro didn’t mean to be here- it just happened. He thought about not coming to your place when you told him you wouldn’t be here for the night, that you would be out with family. He even sat on your chair as you pulled out a potential outfit- something appropriate, that would still seem nice around others. You were excited for it. And now you’re home, and you’re crying, and he isn’t sure what to do. Do you want to talk about it? Because of course something happened, and it hurts him to see you look so small. You’ve closed in on yourself, lowering your shoulders and clasping your arms around yourself, and you haven’t looked him in the eyes since you’ve entered the room.

Come here, he tells you. And you walk towards him, your steps quick to reach where he now sits upright on your bed, and his arm wraps around you, running up your torso, and cupping it over your neck. You’ve always been more of the crier in the relationship, always tearing up in moments as you read, clinging to characters and to people, and he knows what to do, how to comfort you- to offer a talking point and to let you stay silent until you’re ready, and give you a promise that he’s still by your side. Unlike you, he doesn’t talk about his family much, when you pout about him keeping secrets, he pulls out some line about magicians and secrets- something corny that has you rolling your eyes, and grinning at him. You’ve always been one to overshare, to tell stories about your past, to tell him whatever it was that he wanted to know, and he always liked you for it. He never really liked keeping secrets from you, and while he strongly doubts that you would ever judge him for who his lineage is, he doesn’t want to have that looming, he doesn’t want to think about the questions you’d have and the answers he would be unable to tell you.

Seeing you defeated leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He was hoping that he’d fall asleep in your bed, and in the morning, he’d wake up with you curled next to him, hair a mess and he’d spend the whole day with you and get to eat your cooking, and just laze around with you. However, now with you crying on his chest, and how you intertwine your legs with his, he thinks that you’ll be the one to taste his cooking. He doesn’t pry further about what happened- you’re still too sentimental about it, the wound and pain too fresh for you, and he doesn’t want you to cry because of him, because of the memories that he’s trying to dig up no matter how recent they are.

You tell him that you wish you could introduce him to your family. That maybe if you met earlier, before his name was released to the public, that you could have, that you would have been able to show him off. He counters that when his name did get released, you’d have to explain to your family. You say silent after that, he kicks him for bringing reality back to you after hopeful wishes. He stutters in trying to fix his mistake, telling you that it would’ve been nice to be introduced to your family. That he would’ve liked to meet the people who you talk about. He tells you that he would have been perfect at meeting your family- the shining example of what it is to look like a good partner. You interject with a laugh, that he would have been the prime example of a “bring home boyfriend” until it was revealed who he is. You’re laughing and that’s a good sign. He smiles, and his hand lowers curving underneath your chest. He agrees, stating that then he’d be the worst example, and that he probably wouldn’t mind being referred to as the bad boyfriend whose parents disapprove of. You groan and pull away from him, and the tears have dried, and all that remains are reddened eyes, and quiet sniffling.

Holding his hand in yours, you apologize in a low voice, telling him that you didn’t mean to wake him up, nor did you mean to cry in front of him over something so trivial. Atushiro hums, telling you that he doesn’t mind being woken by you- that he’d rather wake up and be with you, than let you cry alone. He’s glad that he was here, that he feels better knowing that he was able to just be here with you, that he didn’t want you alone. He brings up your held hand to his lips, giving short kisses to each knuckle, and turning it over to kiss your palm. You smile, and pull your hand away, leaning into him, giving out another small cry, thanking him for being here, and promising him a meal tomorrow. He watches as you move, curling beside him your hand going to rest over his ribs, and you trace arcs over his chest, stopping at where you think the rib would stop and he watches you get lost in thought, resting back on the pillow and kissing your temple.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Seeing you teary eyed always makes him uncomfortable. Tomura isn’t sure of what to do in these types of scenarios; he isn’t sure on how he should go about to comfort you. Should he hold you? Should he be giving some type of advice, something vague that could be applied to any scenario? He knows that you need something and the most that he could offer up is patting the space beside him, offering up your own bed to you. You nod, scurrying in beside him, your bare legs cooled from the outside air and enough for him to feel through the material of his own pants. You hide yourself in his chest, arms going around to clutch at the back of his shirt. If he knew that you were going to arrive early and cry, he probably wouldn’t have even shown up in your home. Immediately as that thought enters his mind, he feels awful. You’ve done a lot for him, the least he could do is hold you, or allow himself to be held for a moment.

You shouldn’t be home- so why are you home? He had messaged you a few days prior asking if he could stay the night and he remembers that you told him he could, but that you were going to be with family. And he remembers it so, because he thought about just not showing up because if you weren’t going to be here, then why come at all, but the temptation of your bed, pillowed with blankets and stuffed animals, was far too much for him. He’s careful to put his arms around you, careful to make sure he isn’t completely touching you, trying to avoid adding injury to your less than great night. He asks why you’re home so early, and he quickly adds that he doesn’t mean anything mean by it, he’s just curious is all. You’ve been still the entire time in his arms, you don’t move even when you sniffle and the pillow and his shirt are damp with your tears.

Family is complicated, and- you can’t go on any further. Your voice cracks and he moves closer to you, closing the already small gap between the two of you. Something awful must have happened. He doesn’t remember much of his own family- before All For One and Kurogiri. The things that he does remember make him itch- more so than usual, more than just scratching until his skin is a bright red, but a depper, primal urge that has his skin feel too tight. Even so, All For One wasn’t a good caretaker, and Kurogiri did the best that he could with a bratty child from the streets. Even so, he knows how much you care for your own family, how you hold his hand and tell him that you wish things were different so you could introduce him, how maybe if you were a family of villains, they’d be proud of you. You always cut the conversation right after that, and you always have a sad look in your eyes. He never really wants to talk about his own upbringing, always talking about it as it was unimportant, never wanting to recall how empty his bedroom was until he used his quirk. He’s sure that his retelling how he decayed two people who were mean to him wouldn’t bring you the comfort that you need, nor is it the story that you would like to reminisce about with him late in the nights.

He should be offering you something. A drink maybe? But then that would mean that he has to pull away from you, and he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t think you want that either. Still, he should be doing something right now, something to fill the gap of silence and to stop you from whimpering. He presses his lips against the top of your crown, and when he pulls away, he starts. Talking about his past is far too much, but talking about the future isn’t so bad. He talks about how nice it would be that when he topples over society or makes some type of chaos, that you would be right there. When it comes to it, he’s going to bring you with him. It’ll be great- you won’t have to get the approval from family, or anyone else. It’ll be you and him- and the others, but they’re not important in the story he’s telling you. He likes to think that it’ll be the end of society, and he’ll be able to stand beside you, to not worry about heroes- bad or good- would interrupt the both of you.

When you’ve calmed down, you lift up from him, and he misses the warmth that you provided. You wipe at your eyes and pat your cheeks, and he stays watching you, waiting for you to come back to bed. You do so, and you apologize for all the crying, giving a humorless chuckle that you’ve always been the emotional one, and he doesn’t mind because why would he. He sits up beside you, and your head rests on his shoulder, and it’s the two of you alone in a room, and your arms slink around his, holding tightly onto him, and he can feel the tears that wet his shoulder. You don’t have to think right now, at least not about family. And again, you apologize for crying, and again he tells you that it’s fine, even when he’s so unsure of what to do, but you still cry, and you still latch onto him, and in the dead of night, he holds you, and he stays there until you’ve fallen asleep, with tears and warm cheeks.

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blackgirlfandomwriter · 2 years

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Dating Twice🌚........

~ Imma start this off by saying that no ordinary girl can just date Twice

~ If you do not meet the following requirements please exit stage left:

~ Someone whos VERY patient

~ Doesn't get shaken up or frightened easily

~ Mentally Stable because God knows he's far from that

~ Be able to handle him when he's splitting

~ And have the stamina to give him all of your attention 24 fucking 7💀

~ Also don't call him by his birth name.... just don't

~ Back to this man being an absolute attention whore

~ Twice is very clingy when it comes to you

~ He always wants to know about your whereabouts and who you're hanging around

~ Not answering his calls or texts?

~ That's fine because he will be climbing through your window in the next 20 minutes 😃😃

~ Another part of Twice being clingy is his constant need to touch you

~ He claims it calms him 🤷🏽‍♀️

~ This means lots of cuddles

~ Tight handholds

~ Cheek and nose kisses

~ Etc Etc Babes😆

~ Amusement park and Science museum dates

~ Don't ask me why heffa‼️

~ Twice is what I like to call a Ferris Wheel romantic

~ Like yall DEADASS had yall's first kiss on a Ferris wheel🥰

~ Anyways!This man lovesssss pillow talk

~ Like deadass, Twice will literally talk you to sleep about complete nonsense, and its fucking adorable

~ He'll usually start off by asking how your day was, which will definitely lead to a plethora of other topics to talk about 😅

~ His eyes sparkle every time you speak, IDC IDC ✋🏽

~ Late-night dances are a must

~ Sadly Twice can be verbally abusive due to his split personality

~ But please trust that this is not on purpose and he definitely always apologizes

~ Sometimes when he knows he went too far, he'll shower you with gifts just to show how sorry he is

~ A pro to this, however, you can always count on his alter ego to tell you what he's really thinking and feeling

~ And don't even get me started on the lude comments 🤣

~ Aside from this, Twice is very sweet and respectful when it comes to you

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zapreportsblog · 9 months

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↱ an unexpected addition ↰

➘ summary : a new member decides to join the league of villains but she doesn’t look villain material, twice on the other hand says otherwise

➘ twice x reader, jin bubaigawara x reader

➘ a/n : are you guys enjoying this new design take I’m doing?

The League of Villains' hideout was shrouded in darkness, a stark contrast to the bright and bustling world outside. The group of misfits gathered around a table, each member immersed in their own thoughts and plans for chaos. But today, something unusual was about to disrupt their routine.

A knock echoed through the hideout, causing the villains to exchange glances. Toga was the first to approach the door, a sinister grin on her face. "Who could it be at this hour?"

The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway—a young woman with vibrant (h/c) hair and an infectious smile. She seemed out of place amidst the gloom, radiating an inexplicable joy that was almost jarring in this setting.

"Hey there! Sorry for dropping by unannounced," the girl greeted cheerily, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Shigaraki raised an eyebrow, his hand hovering over his face as he regarded the newcomer with suspicion. "And who the hell are you?"

"(Y/N)," she introduced herself with a laugh, as if her very presence was a burst of sunlight in the dim room. "I heard you guys are making a name for yourselves, so I thought I'd see what all the fuss was about."

Toga's eyes gleamed with interest as she circled around (Y/N), her curiosity piqued by the girl's audacity. "Well, well, aren't you a little ball of energy?"

Before anyone else could react, Twice stepped forward, his face split into a wide grin that mirrored (Y/N)'s own expression. "Hey, hey, I vouch for her! She's got the right vibe, you know? The League could use some fresh air."

“Fuck off!”

Shigaraki crossed his arms, regarding the scene with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. "Twice, you're vouching for her just based on vibes?"

Twice nodded eagerly, his eyes bright. "Yeah, yeah! Trust me, Boss, she's got potential. We could use some positivity around here."

“No! Kick her lame ass out.”

(Y/N) chuckled, undeterred by the skeptical gazes around her. "Life's too short to be serious all the time, right?"

The League's members exchanged glances, caught between intrigue and uncertainty. It was true that their group had always leaned towards the darker side of life, but (Y/N)'s unwavering cheeriness was like a splash of paint on a blank canvas.

Shigaraki finally sighed, his fingers tapping impatiently against his arm. "Fine. Twice, if you believe in her, we'll give her a chance. But she's got to prove herself. This isn't a tea party."

Twice grinned even wider, his excitement palpable. "You won't regret it, Boss!"

“I’m already regretting agreeing.”

As the League of Villains welcomed (Y/N) into their ranks, the dynamics of the group shifted. Her presence, like a burst of color, had the potential to change the way they saw their mission. Whether she could truly find her place in this world of darkness remained to be seen, but one thing was certain—the League of Villains was in for a unique and unexpected journey with their newest, and perhaps most unconventional, member.

(Y/N)'s entry into the League of Villains marked a new chapter for the group. Her bright personality was like a constant source of energy, injecting an unusual spark into their sinister pursuits. As days turned into weeks, the members began to adjust to her presence, some more begrudgingly than others.

Toga found herself oddly drawn to (Y/N)'s infectious laughter and carefree nature. She observed her new companion's interactions with a mix of fascination and curiosity. "(Y/N), you're really something else," Toga mused one day, twirling a knife between her fingers.

(Y/N) flashed a grin in response, seemingly unfazed by the dangerous instrument Toga was wielding. "Well, life's too short to be boring, right?"

Meanwhile, Twice found himself spending more time with (Y/N), the two forming an unexpected camaraderie. He appreciated the break from the constant tension within the group. "(Y/N), you're like a breath of fresh air," he admitted, a genuine smile on his face.

“I wish you would just die!”

"I try my best," she replied, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Who knew villains could use a little sunshine?"

Even Shigaraki, who was known for his stern demeanor, couldn't help but be intrigued by (Y/N)'s unique approach to villainy. He watched her from the shadows, observing her interactions and contemplating the potential benefits and risks of her presence.

One evening, as the group gathered to discuss their next move, (Y/N) piped up with an idea that caught everyone off guard. "Why don't we organize a charity event? You know, something that shows we're not all bad."

The room fell silent, each member processing (Y/N)'s suggestion. It was a far cry from their usual activities, but there was something strangely appealing about the idea of presenting a different side of themselves.

Shigaraki leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he regarded (Y/N). "Explain."

(Y/N) leaned forward, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. "Think about it. We could use the event as a cover for something bigger. People would never suspect us, and we'd be able to gather information, or even set a trap for our enemies."

The room buzzed with a mix of curiosity and interest. The proposition was audacious, a gamble that had the potential to either backfire spectacularly or yield unexpected rewards.

Toga was the first to voice her approval, her grin bordering on maniacal. "I like the way you think!"

Twice nodded in agreement, his eyes wide with excitement. "It's like turning the tables on everyone, but with style!"

“This is a dumb idea!”

Shigaraki mulled over the idea for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he finally cracked a small smile, a rarity for him. "Fine. We'll give it a shot. But make no mistake, (Y/N), if this goes south, you're taking full responsibility."

(Y/N) beamed, her energy practically bouncing off the walls. "Deal!"

As preparations for the charity event began, the League of Villains found themselves venturing into uncharted territory. With (Y/N)'s unconventional ideas at the helm, they were about to show the world a side they never thought they'd see. Whether their plan would succeed or crumble under the weight of their own audacity remained to be seen, but one thing was certain—the League was in for a ride they would never forget, all thanks to the girl who had brought a touch of brightness to their shadows.

The League of Villains threw themselves into planning the charity event with a newfound fervor. Their hideout, once a hub of darkness, transformed into a makeshift event planning headquarters. (Y/N)'s energy was infectious, as she rallied the members with her innovative ideas and boundless enthusiasm.

Kurogiri, the somber portal-manipulating member of the League, observed the proceedings with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "(Y/N), are you sure about this? It seems quite... unconventional."

(Y/N) flashed a reassuring smile at Kurogiri. "Trust me, Kurogiri. Unconventional is exactly what we need. We'll catch everyone off guard and achieve our objectives without them even realizing it."

As the event drew near, (Y/N) worked tirelessly, ensuring every detail was in place. The League's hideout was adorned with banners, tables, and decorations, creating an atmosphere that was eerily inviting. The other members contributed in their own ways, albeit reluctantly at times, as they prepared for roles that felt oddly unfamiliar.

On the day of the event, the hideout's transformation was complete. The villains, dressed in costumes that attempted to mimic a sense of normalcy, mingled with the attendees, many of whom were unaware of the true nature of their hosts. (Y/N) flitted about, a master of ceremonies with an infectious smile that betrayed none of the darkness lurking beneath.

Toga, her usual thirst for blood disguised by a façade of normalcy, entertained guests with her unsettling charm. Twice, donning a tuxedo, created duplicates of himself to help serve refreshments, adding a quirky touch to the proceedings.

Shigaraki, his fingers still gloved, mingled with the crowd, his cold demeanor in stark contrast to the festive ambiance. Yet, even he couldn't deny the strange allure of (Y/N)'s plan.

As the evening progressed, (Y/N) sensed an air of tension mixed with curiosity among the attendees. They were drawn to the event, even if they didn't fully understand why. The League's usual chaos was temporarily subdued, replaced by a deceptive sense of unity that (Y/N) had managed to conjure.

But amidst the laughter and music, a more sinister undercurrent simmered beneath the surface. (Y/N)'s watchful eyes were attuned to the subtle shifts in the room, the hints of conversations that hinted at something more sinister.

As the night continued, (Y/N) seized an opportunity to gather valuable information from unsuspecting guests. Her casual conversations led to secrets revealed, alliances exposed, and rivalries unveiled.

When the event came to a close, the League of Villains retreated to their hideout, exhausted but exhilarated. (Y/N)'s plan had worked, and they had achieved their objectives without raising suspicion. It was a success that had left the members, even the skeptical ones, with a sense of accomplishment.

"(Y/N), I've got to hand it to you. That was a crazy idea, but it worked," Toga said, a satisfied grin on her face.

Twice nodded enthusiastically. "You brought some much-needed chaos in the most unexpected way!"

“I hated it!”

Shigaraki leaned against a wall, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "(Y/N), I must admit, you've got a knack for this."

(Y/N) beamed, her heart swelling with a mixture of pride and relief. "Well, villains can have a little fun too, right?"

The League of Villains had experienced a night unlike any other, and it was all thanks to (Y/N)'s unorthodox approach. As they settled in, their laughter and camaraderie resonated through the hideout, an echo of the unlikely success that had unfolded under the guise of a charity event.

#league of villians x reader #league of villains #league of villains imagine #league of villains imagines #x reader one shot #x reader oneshot #x reader #twice #twice imagines #twice imagine #twice x reader #twice x you #twice x y/n #jin bubaigawara #jin bubaigawara x reader #jin bubaigawara x y/n #jin bubaigawara x you #jin bubaigawara imagine #jin bubaigawara imagines

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incorrect-league-of-villains · 2 years

Text

Twice: The floor is lava!

Sako: [helps Hawks onto the counter]

Toga: [kicks Tomura off the sofa]

Dabi: [lays on the floor]

Twice: …are you okay?

Dabi: No.

#incorrect lov #imagine if dabi was like markiplier #like 'im not a masochist i just want to see if my body can take it'#bnha twice #jin bubaigawara #mr compress #sako atsuhiro #bnha hawks #takami keigo #himiko toga #dabi #shigaraki tomura

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blurbios · 1 year

Text

League of Villains' Doting S/O

synopsis: little stories about how you show love for your partner and how they react.

Shigaraki

Dabi: part 1, part 2

Compress

Spinner

Twice

Toga

a/n: this is my first little series, initially intended it to be a short one off post, but expanded upon it in editing (somehow went from under 1k words to almost 3.5k geez) ! i have many more ideas to come in the near future, but any and all comments or requests are welcomed!! thank you x

#mha x gn!reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x you #shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #mr compress x reader #spinner x reader #twice x reader #toga himiko x reader #league of villians x reader #shigaraki tomura #touya todoroki #sako atsuhiro #jin bubaigawara #himiko toga #shuichi iguchi

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rottenshigaraki · 2 years

Text

I went to an art museum recently and it got me wondering who from the league would go with you

Here are those headcanons

{Twice, Mr.Compress, Toga, Spinner, Shigaraki, Dabi}

This was in my drafts from a year ago. here you go LOL

Mr.Compress

The only one whos willing and excited to go is Mr.Compress. He buys the tickets

He holds your hand

Reads every plaque

Will read them to you if you want

He will take his time admiring the artwork

Really enjoys the sculpture

Its an all day event for you two

Would spend a good time at the rose garden, smelling and observing all the beautiful flowers

Will steal a few of them for you to take home

Dabi

Dabi will not go. At all. Ever.

You could not bribe this man to go

Thinks its the boringest thing on earth

He could care less about art and definitely isnt going to spend all day with you just standing around

He’ll drive you and pick you up

Asks Toga or someone to keep you company

Tomura Shigarak

Shigaraki also wouldn't care

He might tag along just to make sure no one would try to talks to you, and to just be with you

He'll admire the artwork a lil, thinks its nice and can see the work that was put into it

Doesnt care to read about them though

Also doesnt care about the rose garden that isnt even in bloom yet but he rather be outside than in

The silence was so deafening

understimulated to the max!

try to rush you through the rooms

Does not like the marble statues, at all

Himiko Toga

Toga would go with you if you asked

She would try to read about each piece but would get bored quickly

Wouldnt want to stay long

She'd enjoy the marble sculptures

Find them funny and would mock their poses and expressions

The rose garden being her favorite even if it wasnt in bloom

Would steal any roses in bloom

Spinnner

Spinner also would not want to go but he'd go for you

He'd enjoy looking at the artwork

Listens to you talk to your hearts content about artists and their work

I feel like he wouldnt like the marble sculptures, makes him uncomfortable

Probably because the majority are all naked

He doesnt understand why people care so much about flowers but he enjoys how nice the rose garden is and how it would be only you two around

A nice moment to just sit on the benches and relax with each other

also would get very understimulated but wouldnt fuss

Ends up enjoying himself because of you

Jin || Twice

Jin, now Jin would love to go but he hates how quiet it is

He'd be very self conscious about his movements and what he says

But he'd enjoy having your arms linked and being close

You'd read to him about the artist and their artwork

Tell him about the sculptures and what they represent

He'd enjoy his time because he's with you

Also likes being outside more in the rose garden

He likes flowers

Likes the pretty roses and will pick one to put in your hair

and kiss you or something sweet

actually enjoys the art, will stare and admire the pieces

#rott.headcanons #rott.writes #mha imagines #mha x reader #shigaraki tomura #bnha x gender neutral reader #shigaraki x reader #twice x reader #bnha imagines #jin bubaigawara x reader #spinner x reader #mr. compress #mr.compress x reader #toga himiko #toga x reader #dabi x reader

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hanrinz · 1 year

Text

platonic lov thought bc i need one !

i imagine dabi being that annoying big bro in the group and would just say horrible things as a joke. he doesn't even realize it did hurt your feelings, he only noticed it when he heard sniffling coming from you and he's panicking.

trying to shush you before the other lov members comes and hard core saying he didn't mean it, that what he said wasn't true. he was merely joking and you were at the tip of bursting out.

the first one to see you was toga, immediately by your side and pointing a knife at dabi accusingly.

"what did you do dabi?" her eyes narrowing. comforting you, rubbing your back.

the next one to arrive at the scene was twice, and he doesn't even need to ask what happened, he's already running back to tell on dabi. his loud ass mouth would just be heard through the hallways of the hideout.

almost all the members are yelling at dabi. kurogiri handing you some tissue to wipe your tears away.

the last one to see you was shigaraki and he was annoyed, another mess he had to deal with— on the other hand, he can just ignore it but this will cause a feud in the league, he has no choice either way.

and like a child being berated by his mother, dabi was forced to apologize to you.

it's like the league is just full of broken children that were bound to be a family.

#i desperately need a lov filler ep😭#horikoshi pls #im begging on my knees #mha imagine #dabi headcanons #himiko toga #tomura shigaraki #jin bubaigawara #kurogiri #league of villains

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hydrangeasimagination · 2 years

Note

Hi there, I recently read one of your scenarios on a disabled, wheelchair bound, bed bound reader with Dad Might and siblings. I'm in a wheelchair and reading it made me happy to see it. Could you possibly do more of that? Maybe with the League of Vilians?

Ooh!!

Mmm, this scenario is probably going to be a bit different but I welcome it nonetheless.

Gender Neutral! Reader and platonic because I'm a sap

(also, sorry for the lack of posts)

~ Dari

League of Villains + Hospital Bound Reader

first of all, you're Himiko's childhood friend - literally one of the only people that hadn't rejected her for her quirk or anything else

the pair of you were relatively close, even as you dipped in and out of the hospital for most of your early years

even after going rogue, she visited you, seeing if even you had turned your back to her

but you didn't

you told her you wished that you could've been there for her when she needed it - that being stuck inside made it so she was alone for so long

for that, you apologized

and again when she cried at the thoughtful acceptance

it's all very bittersweet, but she is forever grateful for your kindness and continues to drop by and see you - in disguise - even after the police began searching for her

hearing that she got tangled up in the League worried you for her safety but you knew she could take care of herself, in spite of that, you still told her to be careful

but as she continues living among the League of Villains and growing closer to them, her visits were unfortunately sporadic as it was harder and harder to see you between all the missions and assignments

for the longest time, they didn't know about you

eventually though, Twice does happen to ponder out loud; "I wonder where Toga goes whenever we're not busy."

it was enough for the rest of them to be nosy enough to find out

Tomura is initially furious that some outsider was involved in on all of this, ready to just dust you for the fact that there was no way that you couldn't be unaware as to the fact she was in the League

Dabi was completely indifferent, sort of annoyed that Toga let someone anchor her to her past

she shrieked when they implied they'd harm you, throwing an absolute fit and making a bunch of points

you've known everything she'd done before and didn't breath a word about it, you love her so much, so much so that you were willing to lie to the police

Toga threatened that she'd kill them if harm were to come to you - you were already sick and always in the hospital and you deserved to live long and happy as you physically could

honestly, they had never seen her so furious

... it was enough for them to be curious as to the person that had made her so protective

then they met you - and fuck they got it

you were so soft and gentle and weak and frail, there was truly no need for them to hurt you more

you couldn't stop them even if you wanted to, but you were so welcoming

understanding, so patient... not even fearful after learning that they were essentially watching after Toga and thanking them for keeping her safe and protecting her and asking them to take care of themselves too because you didn’t want to see her lose anyone else precious

she would cry but right now, she's in front of them and not about to deal with that

Kurogiri occasionally warped in some small snacks, treats, and trinkets when he could

Atsuhiro is happy to do some street magic for you, bringing a certain amount of liveliness to the sterile hospital

Tomura literally demanded your gamer IDs so you both could play together, along with Shuichi, who is all too happy to also give you something to pass the time

Dabi stole you books and things of the like, though he said over and over that he doesn't care

Jin makes copies to tend to your needs, always keeping one on standby outside during visits just for watch and in case anything were to happen

Magne helped you with personal grooming like hair and nails, always happy to lighten up the dreary room with some paper flowers she made

they even take away one of the nurses for a while to be able to monitor you through a clone Jin made of them when they needed to lie low, it is enough to starve away the loneliness and worry you had while they were gone

especially as news reports pepper the time between your shows on the TV

they just love you so much tbh, and god help the heroes that try encroach on the little family you had built

... oh and they all work together to fold you paper cranes

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tobegiggledat · 1 year

Note

Twice x fem!reader who saves him from being killed by hawks? (She's in the league of villains and twice has always been like in love with her)

I don’t really write fem!reader so I hope gn is okay!

Devil’s Advocate

✦pairing: Twice x gn!reader

✦warnings: angst, canon-divergence, reader has a quirk, kissing

✦word count: 1.4k

✦a/n: for Twice’s b-day🎉🥳

You never trusted him from the start; that Hawks.

Only a fool would believe someone so willing to climb the ranks in a biased system would be open to aiding the opposing cause of said system.

But it’s not like it matters, even if his intentions aligned with The League at first, he’d be far too corrupted by ‘heroics’ to truly benefit it.

Sapphire flames lick along your arm, wild and whipping freely. Your remaining body hair must be charred to flakes by now, but Dabi’s ignited pupils make it clear your skin is secondary to whatever he has planned for the number two hero before you.

His gleam is misplaced compared to the burnt aftermath he’s made of the room as he’s dwindled Hawks’ crimson twisters of feathers into just the pathetic handful on his back.

While you had your suspicions about Hawks’ traitorous nature, you never would’ve guessed that this is how it would all go down. Especially, the display of Hawks’ overly-confident pose as he's frozen before he got a chance to release the killing blow—on your lover at that. It floods and curdles your veins with adrenaline until no blood is left.

Jin? Of all of us? How could he—Jin was the one who trusted him most!

Something visceral and hot slashes through your chest, and you swear some of Dabi’s flames have already scorched past your skin to set your insides ablaze.

Your nails are violently digging into your palms before Hawks’ expression swiftly contorts into one of dread, with the whites of his expanding into full moons and a final gasp breaching his lips.

A grin tugs at the corner of your lips, not quite matching the one of the man beside you, and for quite a different reason you assume.

Did he really think he'd be able to swipe in for a quick kill?

It's too late. A few seconds is more than enough for him to be captured in Devil’s Advocate, or your quirk.

With a clear view of someone’s head, you can turn their inner voice against them, looping their thoughts with what ifs and plaguing them with guilt for their every action, even if that action adheres to their usual values.

But values mean nothing if they’re constantly questioned, and with Devil’s Advocate, those doubts will always be correct as long as you concentrate on the subject's forehead.

“I’ll only get Jin, and you can have your way”, you say distantly, gaze taped to the spectacle you made of Hawks.

“That’s the plan”, Dabi fans his flames as if revving every engine in his body for take off.

Lips parted in deep thought, Hawks gazes absentmindedly at the ash-ridden floors and ignores your presence entirely, even as your eyes bore into his sides while you steadily close the distance between you and Jin.

And while Devil’s Advocate lingers within your own mind when it’s not in someone else’s, you wonder how it manifests in a different subject—in Hawks. You’ve long grown used to its dwelling within you, so you’re certain its effects are much graver on others than you, but what’s it like?

Perhaps, he's trapped in the endless rivers of decisions he's made up until now, contemplating how each stream managed to overlap in the convoluted sea that's now the backbone to his depravity.

But none of that is important now that Jin is before you, he needs you and it only took you a few difficult steps without your eyes to guide you to be at his side.

From what your hands can tell, he's sitting on his knees. You trail up the torn fabric along his arms to reach his head as it's turned toward you. A large portion of his face is on display yet you can hardly make it out from just your peripheral vision.

“I wish I could look at you”, you say near his direction, fingertips still caressing the frayed ends of his mask. “I want to see if you’re alright.”

Jin's hand meets yours to grip it tightly. “I’m fine—I'm not!” , he replies regretfully sharp, and despite the differing inflections of his words, it's difficult to tell which is the truth considering his state.

It’s unusual to feel his skin so bare beneath your fingers, to be able to run them through soft, short wisps and not be met with fabric when you cup the base of his head. The feeling of his warmth against you is enough to waver your stare on the man who wronged him, unconsciously fluttering your eyes when he shifts into you.

He’s only ever worn his mask in fear of his own quirk rather than yours, but you’re certain if he had the choice not to he’d choose to trust you.

“I can still do something.” Jin jerks up as if he's attempting to break from your hold to fight once more, but you push against him.

“No, you shouldn't push yourself.”

“Push myself?” He scoffs. “I ain't done nothing yet.”

“That isn't true. You being alive is already enough, especially for me”, You take a deep, yet shaky breath to simmer your jittering nerves. “I’m not–”Another breath. “I’m not sure what I would’ve done had I not made it on time.”

He says your name in a trailed off whisper. Your vision begins to blur with tears and you desperately try to stifle them so as not to distort your quirk.

“You're strong, and I feel like deep down you know it too”, you sniffle. “Otherwise, the number two hero wouldn't have gone out of his way to get you.” His hold on your hand strengthens as you continue. “Another opportunity will arise for you to strike and I'll be there beside you. We're a team, we're not meant to face everything alone, so let me be there for you next time, okay?”

He doesn't say a word, instead turning his cheek into your palm so that he could press a chaste kiss against it. A delicate smile graces your features and his lips seem to mimic your own as they tug slightly enough for you to feel them curve against your fingers, which map out the stubble beneath, attempting to grow familiar with a face you've yet to see—and oh how you desperately wish to see him.

“We should get going.” (Before Dabi turns us both to crisp), you wish to add but leave unspoken. Jin’s arm secures around your shoulder as you attempt to bear some of his weight, most of which he chooses no to place upon you.

It’s only when your feet skim the edge of the makeshift gap you used to enter that you turn your head away from Hawks, hoping the guilt that’s festered within him lingers even when your quirk is not around to torment him. But for now, you're just glad you made it in time.

A desolate hall nearby provides you a chance to gather your bearings, but you adamantly avoid meeting the eyes you've been longing to see since the beginning.

He wouldn't want me to look, you allow your own thoughts to be tainted by illogical conclusions this time except you don't have the luxury of them disappearing with a glance away. How could anyone feel safe around such a manipulative ability—

A rigid but comforting grip on your jaw draws you back to reality only to have you whisked away again and sinking into two pools of darkening gray. It only lasts for a moment before Jin’s lips crash into you, sucking you breathless until your worries seem to be vacuumed out of your head with the swallowed air. Prickles scatter your cheeks with each swipe of the roughness around his mouth, but it swiftly ends as the efforts of your fervor begin to bloom away from his lips for more.

“No, not here”, he says softly into you after pulling away, words close enough to brush over your lips with each syllable. “I wanna take you properly, when this is all over. A place like this will only taint the memory.” His forehead touches yours, and for a moment you wish your quirk was slightly different, you wish it was one that allows you to convey your love-saturated thoughts as intensely as they appear in your mind.

“Okay”, your cheeks heat a little at what awaits.“Then let's get out of here for real this time.” You kiss him one last time, fleetingly.

#jin bubaigawara x reader #jin bubaigawara imagines #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #request

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sugoi-and-spice · 2 years

Note

Can I request a League of villains x Quirkless back Alley Nurse fanfic? Romance with a character of your chosing? (Sorry if it's not enough detail I'm new to the whole making request thing)

Ugh, stop this was such a fun prompt. Ideas for Toga and Twice were the first to pop into my head, might revisit this if I get ideas for the others though.

Pairing: Jin Bubaigawara/Twice x Reader, Himiko Toga x Reader

Rating: PG (Hey look, I can write SFW too! xD)

CW: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, mentions of canon-typical violence

Getting blood for transfusions wasn’t exactly straight forward for a clinic like your Father’s. It required a lot of black market sales from hospitals and dealings with brokers. It was one of the biggest logistical headaches for the business even without taking negotiations and market prices into account. In general your Dad preferred to cut out the middleman, as much as possible — to pull directly from donors.

Even unwilling ones.

So after All for One’s capture and the League was no longer able to pay for their visits (of which there were many) — your Dad worked out a little deal.

Treatment in exchange for donors. And as a little added bonus, you’d throw in a few blood bags that were no longer medically viable for their resident shapeshifter. That’s what you were pulling for now.

Down in the basement, Toga sat on a stack of crates, swinging her legs back and forth as you pulled a small box out of the walk-in freezer.

“You’re in luck,” you said, closing the door behind you with your hip, “This last month was slow, so we had more bags expire than usual.”

Toga squealed, jumping off the crate, “Lemme see, lemme see!”

You set the box down on a nearby table. Most of the bags had not only the blood type and collection date written on them — but a picture attached too. A small change you and your Dad had made to your cataloging once you started this deal.

You watched her sort through them excitedly, like a kid in a candy story. She was seriously cute when she got like this. It was one of the reasons you liked to be the one in charge of these transactions, instead of your Dad.

Well, that, and all of the sex you and Toga would have afterwards.

Was it a bad idea to get physically involved with a client? Absolutely. Was it an even worse idea for that client to be the stab-happy serial romantic of the League of Villains with a penchant for combining the two passions? Undoubtedly.

Was it a lot of fun though? Fuck yes it was.

“So what’s your type?”

You blinked, snapping out of your train of thought, “My blood type?”

“Nooo,” she laughed, holding up one of the bags and waving the picture in front of your face, “ I mean your type type!”

You cocked a brow, wondering for a moment if all that blood had finally gotten to her brain and made her forget all of your sexcpades over the last couple of months — many of which had taken place in this very basement.

“Well, considering the fact that we’ve been hooking up for, how long—”

Himiko waved you off, “No, no — besides me! Like if you could have one night with anyone, who would it be?”

“...this feels like a trap.”

“It’s noooot!” she whined.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Why do you want to know so bad?”

“Well…” she drew the toe of her loafer around the ground, coy and sing-songy, “You know I can turn into anybody I bring in, right?”

“I am aware.” you leaned against the table, listening with amusement as to where this could go.

“Soooo, I was thinking I could bring in someone you like,” she said, mirroring your lean into the table, “That way you can play with someone new.”

Your brows furrowed, “Himiko, why do you think I want someone new?”

“Well, you’re okay with me loving so many people,” she slipped her hand across the table, lacing her fingers with yours, “It doesn’t really seem fair that you don’t get to do the same.”

“I mean, you know that’s my choice right? It’s not like I’m strictly monogamous, I’m just not interested in anyone else.”

She looked up at you with an amount of concern that quickly had you forgetting your teasing. While it was true that Toga wore her love on her sleeve, sadness and vulnerability were a rare sight. Most of the time it felt like that was because she just didn’t have any sadness to show. But as you got to know her, it was becoming more clear that she just never wanted to dwell on it. She wanted to live her life to the fullest.

And she wanted the same for you.

“Are you sure?”

You reached your freehand forward, cupping her cheek. She sighed into it, a little blush dusting across her face. For how bold she always was when declaring her feelings, she always got shy when it came to actually acting on them. It was pretty damn cute if you were being honest.

You smiled and slid your hand back behind her ear and pulled her into a kiss. She let out a little gasp against your mouth, her fingers tightening around your own. You started to rub little strokes along her jaw with your thumb, coaxing her mouth open as you deepened the kiss.

She had just started to knead against your tongue when you pulled away, just enough to rest your forehead against hers. Still too far for Toga though if her little whine was any indication.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” you breathed.

Toga let out a little giggle before pushing back and catching your bottom lip between her teeth.

“You know, this isn’t what I thought you meant when you said you needed stitches.”

You were currently sitting on the end of the medical bed hard at work suturing…

…suturing a tear in Jin’s mask.

“You made it sound like it was an emergency.”

“It is! It’s no big deal— d-damn it!”

You looked back over your shoulder. Jin was currently sitting up at the top of the bed, legs pushed up to his chest and rocking back against the wall. He had a paper bag pulled over his head. Judging by the stains and torn handle, it was one that he’d pulled from the trash.

It wasn’t often that Jin asked you for help, not for himself anyway. He was a constant in the office, present every time a League member needed treatment — be it a bullet wound, amputated arm, or tetanus shot — Jin was always the one carrying or following them in. The only other member that even came close to as frequent was Shigaraki — the direct contact and source of payment for the League. But even he usually just went straight to your Dad to work out the logistics.

But Jin always stayed right in this room, at his friends’ bedside or — at the furthest — across the room making some dumb gag with the tongue depressors to try and lift their spirits. Usually the only one he could successfully amuse was Toga.

And you.

He never came in for his own wounds, and most of the time he actively hid the injuries that he did have — minor as they typically were. Any treatment would usually stem from you catching a spreading stain on his costume or a limp in his step as he carried somebody in and would then involve you maneuvering around to treat him while he stayed locked to the bedside.

Eventually, you started implementing a strip search policy for him every time he crossed the threshold of the office — no going near the triage area until you had checked every inch of him for injury. And well, you could only get up and personal with that rugged musculature of his so many times before one thing led to another.

So given his habit for self-sacrifice in combination with the intimacy you had developed with him, when today he actually called you, hyperventilating and begging for help — it had scared you half to death. And when he had actually shown up, shoving the torn mask frantically into your hands, you had been furious at him for giving you that scare.

But now, seeing him trying to self-soothe in that corner — seriously shaken but very much alive — you were begrudgingly relieved.

You gave each side of the mask a little tug, testing to make sure the stitchwork was solid. And of course it was.

“Good as new.” you grunted, tossing it back over your shoulder.

You could hear him shuffling fast behind you. The crackle of paper, the slip of fabric, the relieved sigh of “Whole again.” You just tried to focus on putting your supplies away. To keep your breath steady, your eyes dry.

You didn’t want to give him a hard time about how bad he scared you. You knew he couldn’t help it, that this was all part of the package deal that was Jin Bubaigawara. But you just couldn’t help the shake in your fingers that had finally taken over once you didn’t have a project to steady them on, the air of panic in your chest imagining what could’ve been.

What someday could be.

A pair of strong arms wrapped slowly around your shoulders. You tried half-heartedly to shrug them off, but they just tightened, pulling you back against Jin’s hard chest. The smell of tobacco and his body wash filled your senses, warmed your body. You could feel him press a soft, covered kiss to the back of your neck — an action that was just as much a comfort to him as it was supposed to be for you.

“I’m sorry…” he breathed, completely himself.

That did you in. You tried to sniff up the tears that were already falling before he could notice. But you could tell by the way he started burying his head into your nape that all it did was make him more aware.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. So sorry.” he choked out, over and over again.

You reached up to grasp Jin’s wrists, carefully unfolding his arms so that you could turn and face him. It was amazing how truly expressive he could be through that hokey piece of fabric. It was obvious that he was barely holding it together.

You smiled sadly, reaching up to run your thumb along the line of stitches running up his forehead — just a few inches off from the actual scar on his skin.

“This suits you.”

You could tell by the shift under his mask that his eyes had widened. He grabbed your hands tight between his own and pulled them tight to his mouth, just breathing you in. Trying to hold you together like you held him.

“Th-Thank you. That’s some shit craftsmanship!”

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frogzzai · 1 year

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You can't say bubbles and sound intimidating!

(Pairing Dabi x GN! Reader)

(Gender isn't mentioned)

Multi-Masterlist! Back to Masterlist!

Please send in requests <3

#mha #my hero acadamy #my hero academia #bnha shigaraki #mha tomura #tomura shigaraki #dabi imagine #dabi fluff #dabi #bnha toga #bnha himiko #mr compress #bnha dabi #bnha #jin bubaigawara #twice imagines #spinner #mha smau

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plush-rabbit · 2 years

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Build-A-Bear with the Boys

Request: Idk if you know what a build-a-bear is , im just going to assume you do sry♡

I havent had one since i was a toddler but for my 21st my friend got me one and had put the "birthday cake" sent in it, and they last a long time!! And the fabric is so soft, its v comforting.

Sooo i wanted to ask for Shig,Dabi,and Jin reacting to their partner getting them a bear or whatever animal you want, that had a sent that was personal to them, for their birthday/anniversary. Idk what they all carry sent wise so we can just pretend they have whatever lol

Another idea; maybe theyre away from reader for a bit and they end up cuddling the stuff animal ?

Whatever works♡

A/N: I wrote a BAB piece a while ago, but that was for Tenko rather than Shigaraki, so it’s a different feel for a different character

Bubaigawara Jin:

You look excited. Much more than usual when you sit yourself beside Jin with a generic gift bag sitting by your feet. The tissue paper is all sorts of colors, a mix of pastels peeking past the opening of the bag, and he can see something peeking out from it. There’s this wide grin that you keep trying to suppress by sucking in your bottom lip, but when then, it’s like you’re unable to stop. The palms of your hands smack against the wooden table, too erratic and too jittery to form any sensible beat. You’re waiting for him to ask you something relating to your mood. He takes the bait, sniffling and running the back of the index against the tip of his nose.

For whatever reason, you don’t answer him, simply grabbing the bag and urging him to take it. You want to tell him; that much is clear when you part your mouth open, ready to spill whatever has you in such a happy mood, but you refrain. And now he’s holding a bag in his hands, the paper crinkling and something stopping his fingers from pressing too harshly into the bag. His hand pulls out clumps of paper and he doesn’t give a second glance as the papers fall onto the floor. He pulls out a teddy bear, the fur of it coiled and shaggy. The stitched mouth smiles up at him, and it wears a basic white shirt with a blue bear head embroidered at the bottom.

He turns to you, asking why you’re giving him this. Immediately after, he begins to worry that he’s missing an important date and that if you can give him an hour or two, he’d make it up and he’s beginning to trail off, his foot tapping nervously against the floor and teddy bear held tight in his hands that you’re almost afraid the eyes will bulge out. You urge him to smell it and his eyes squint as he tries to figure it out. He can hear you laugh and your hand rests between his shoulder blades. It’s peppermint. You nod, coming in closer to him, your legs squished together as if the room was packed full of people, when in reality, it’s just the two of you alone in a room, pressed tightly together. You go on to explain why you chose peppermint, your body squirming and holding tightly onto the back of his shirt, voice much lower and much more timid than before. All he can really catch on is that peppermint is meant to reduce stress, or something like that as he holds the bear in gloves hands.

The stuffed bear has transfixed him, and he is unable to look away. You wanted him to have something nice and you took the time to pick out the scent and the animal, and he’s grateful that he has a mask because there are tears in his eyes. He loves it so much, he can’t even convey it. There have only been a few people that have been kind to him, and even when he was a kid, no one would have done this for him. He has a mean looking face and for so long he tormented himself if he was real or not, and you have given him this- a child’s toy. In his calloused hands covered in blood and gloves, he holds something soft and his hands now smell like peppermint.

It’s just a gift. No real importance associated with it other than you had thought it would be nice for him to have something like this. He doesn’t really talk about his childhood with you- something about claiming not to remember- and it gave you the impression that perhaps it’s not something worth remembering, or wanting to remember. So you took it upon yourself to get him a standard bear, hoping that it would help him feel a bit less lonely when you aren’t there with him. His smile twitches for a moment, and he’s brought back to reality in remembering that one day, you probably won’t be with him because he is a villain, and he can’t promise his safety, and he won’t make you promise to stay with him, even though the desperate, selfish part of him wants you to swear to it. For now, Jin holds the bear, his index tracing over the eyes and down to the soft swell of the muzzle.

Dabi:

It’s early when Dab is awoken by you shaking him and calling his name. His mind can’t catch up quick enough, sleep lulling him back in and he pulls the blanket over his head, hoping that you’d let him rest for a minute longer. But, of course, that's too much to ask for. You’re desperate, begging and shaking him, and with great reluctance and a loud groan, he peeks past the blanket, with an unamused look on his face. He knows that you’re safe, if you were in any danger, you’d be much more frantic, much more shrill and harsh with your shakings. When you pull out a gift bag with the tissue paper spilling out from the top, he can’t recall any important date.

The bag is thrusted into his hands and you’re much too eager. He’s tired and you’re giving him a bag, and talking, words meshing together that you hadn’t meant to wake him, but you were too excited to keep this to yourself for a moment longer, and that he had to have this now. He doesn’t know why he has to have it now, there’s no rush in you kicking him out of your home, there’s no rush in him leaving, but when he turns his head to your direction and you have this wide smile as your hands fidget and twist the comforter in your hands, he takes pity on you and accept the gift with a thanks that comes out softer than he had meant to. The colored paper falls onto the bed, and he pulls out a stuffed wolf dressed in a black shirt with a bear head embroidered at the end of it.

He isn’t sure what to make of it, and he holds it without much of a grip in his hands. You’re staring at him, and he can feel it, and he knows that he needs to have some type of reaction to your gift, a simple thank you, or even just a half hearted hig to the thing would be enough, but he can’t bring himself to do that. He stares at the wolf that smiles back up at him, and he’s far too grown to own a stuffed toy. You tell him in a much quieter voice that it’s supposed to smell like lavender- something about helping him sleep. And slowly, he meets the wolf in the middle, taking a sniff to find that it does smell like lavender.

It’s dumb. He feels dumb having his face pressed against the belly of a stuffed animal, and you watch with your legs bent under you, and he turns to you slowly. It’s difficult to pull any emotion off of him, and it’s easy to read you. You give him a taut smile, pulling on a loose thread from the blanket, and without a word, the tissue paper is shoved back into the bag, crumpled and messily pushed to the bottom. He isn’t sure if he wants the wolf or not, but he knows enough about you to know that if he rejects this, you’d give him these sad eyes and turn your back on him. The bag is shoved to the foot of the bed, and he turns to you, throwing his arm over you in a half-hearted hug. It’s enough for either of you, and you kiss his cheek, laying down and patting the empty space beside you.

There is a cloth and stuffing on his chest and it weighs a ton, and it makes it hard to breathe and difficult to think. The scent of lavender is faint, and he smells it on his hands. He tries to think back to when he last received a gift like this- something so trivial and soft. Dabi finds that he can’t remember. He isn’t one for stuffed animals, and he isn’t one to keep mementos, but he finds himself gripping the shirt of the wolf tightly, and suddenly his hands are much too raw and dirty to hold something this sweet, to touch something given by you, something so simple and new. Something that was meant for comfort is given to him, and twists to you, the wolf falling between the both of you, and he thinks to himself, that when he’s dead, he’d like for you to cry on the wolf and smell that smoke that follows him.

Shigaraki Tomura:

His body is sore, and he can feel himself become faint from too much blood loss. It’s come to a point that walking has become too much of a strenuous task for him at this moment. The only thing actually pushing him to walk further is that fact that he knows once the door is closed, it’ll just be you and him, and while you’d be asleep, he knows that no one is going to bother either of you. At least not until the morning when preparation for a war begins to happen, but that’s for the morning, when he’s at least had a few hours of sleep and his body has recovered from whatever it is that the doctor is doing to him and his body. Tomura stops in front of his door and through the bottom crack, he can see orange light spill and light the tips of his shoes. He hopes that you’re asleep, he never liked the look on your face when you see him covered in bruises and blood.

You rise from your place on the bed and though your smile falters when you take notice of his rugged appearance, you encourage him to sit on the bed. He’s grateful he had the sense of mind to shower before coming to you, but as he sits on the bed, he finds it difficult to keep his eyes open. You run to the closest and pull out a gift bag, tissue paper dotted in sparkles rising past the opening of the bag. You know that he’s tired, but it would mean a lot if he would open your gift to him. Has he missed an important date, or is this just an out-of-the-blue type of gift for him, and when he looks at you, and you encourage him to open it without shifting your eyes to some corner where you think he’d place a present, he knows it’s an out-of-the-blue thing that you’ve done for him. The sparkled paper falls to the bed and onto the floor with the gust of air. His hands grab at something soft and he pulls out a stuffed dog.

He has to remind himself that you don’t know. That this is all just some coincidence, and he can’t breathe. It looks nothing like Mon, but even so, after his memories came rushing to him, and after he experienced it all in a moment’s blink, he can’t help but realize he never truly processed it, simply accepted it and ran with it. He looks at you and you move close to him, resting your chin on his shoulder, asking him to smell it. He does so, and smells the top of the stuffed dog’s head, and it’s sweet. You tell him that it’s peaches with a kiss on his cheek and he holds the dog in his hands, nails digging into the blue shirt with an embroidered bear head at the hem of it.

With everything going on- the experiments and the other things, that you leave just as that because he can’t tell you what he’s doing and what he’s planning- you thought that he could have used some comfort. It’s childish, and small, and he’d never take it out this room, never risk letting anything of his or anyone else’s things or blood get on the dog and ruin it. He’ll keep it tucked and hidden away and think of it when electricity courses through his body. He’ll think of the peaches and the soft fur, and you chin on his shoulder and hands on his waist. He’ll remember how you asked in a whisper if he liked it.

Of course, he likes it. He loves it beyond what words can convey and he hates it with such a passion because he knows that the dog won’t last. It’ll stay forgotten in a corner, and he’ll long for it like a child clinging and yearning for something that was caressed by love. You lay down, and exhaustion is evident in your eyes now and it’s catching up to him. The room is engulfed in darkness and he’s holding the dog listening to your soft breathing and even though his eyelids are heavy and keep closing, he keeps them open, looking at the dog and hugging it close to his chest. He’ll fall asleep with the dog tucked under his chin and in the morning, he’ll keep it tucked in the bag, hidden in the closet, safe from danger.

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