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Dating Tenko Shimura/Tomura Shigaraki Would Include...

First off, we all know that Tomura Shigaraki has, like no people skills whatsoever.

The only people that he interacts with on/in any sort of personal level are Kurogiri and All For One.

In other words, we all know from the anime, Shigaraki doesn’t do outsiders or new people unless it’s an absolutely pivotal part of his plan to destroy hero society, so if you’re his life you’ve always been his life.

Whether that be because you were another of All For One’s protégés or someone he met before he knew what it truly meant to be a villain, you were always there.

And to be completely honest with you guys, he was drawn to you by sheer human instinct. There was no plan or ulterior motive and in hindsight it almost annoys him.

Since you have been there for Shigaraki (whether it be as forementioned being one of AFO’s protégés or someone he met before he knew what it truly meant to be a villain) you are a constant in every evolving aspect when it comes to the League.

Yes, Kurogiri is kept around also, but that’s because Shigaraki’s plan necessitates a constant and near instantaneous mode of transportation.

He has yet to find a place for you to fit perfectly into his grand scheme, but he’s too selfish to do away with you as he has with so many others.

And to be completely honest, (and we all know this to be 100% true!) with a quirk like his, it wouldn’t be hard to make you disappear almost without a trace.

Because of his inability to get rid of you, Shigaraki refers to you as his Player 2 which had seemed like an odd video game reference at first, until you realized it was his attempt at giving you a meaningful pet name that wasn’t a nuisance to say in front of others.

When you had asked him what the reason for the nickname was, Shigaraki denied its meaning as a term of endearment, stating that it only made sense as he’s Player 1 and you’re the only member of the League–honorary or not–that comes close to his rank. (Especially if you are AFO’s protégé)

He definitely gets jealous when he sees you around Dabi or Compress (especially Dabi though).

He actually gets so jealous when he sees you with Dabi that he starts to scratch his neck raw and look at the 2 of you like a territorial animal. (In other words, he just looks like he wants to kill Dabi.)

“Ooooh~! Somebody’s jealous~!” Toga teases.

Shigaraki whips his head towards her, his red eyes narrowed in an intense glare. “I am not!” he hisses.

Toga lets out a giggle. *Giggle* “Well, somebody’s definitely in denial~” she sing-songs with a grin on her face.

At her words, Shigaraki lets out a growl of frustration and anger, his pale cheeks a bright pink, causing Toga to giggle.

“Shut up Toga!” he grumbles as he turns away from her to stare down at the bar, not wanting to get teased about staring at you and Dabi anymore than he already had been.

After being teased by Toga and Twice about liking you he finally realizes that he does like you!

The thing about that is, he doesn’t know how to tell you since (as I said before) he has NO PEOPLE SKILLS WHATSOEVER!

After All For One is taken down by All Might and put into Tartarus Prison, the League starts falling apart and struggling to find some ground after the loss of their greatest and strongest ally.

As his player 2, you show your support and try to comfort him after the loss of who he considered as his foster father by making sure that he sleeps, eats and you even try to carry some of the burden levied on him.

And for Shigaraki, that was when he knew that his feelings for you were sincere.

He shows you this by removing Father from his face in front of you (and only you) on one (which turns to many) of the nights that you bring him some food.

Exposing himself for you to see his face fully like that is literally the only way that he knows how to be vulnerable.

After a few months of you comforting and helping him with basically anything and everything dealing with the League, he confesses to you (albeit very shyly).

In response to his confession, you reciprocate his feelings by telling him “I like you too Tomura.” and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

After that you are Shigaraki’s girl, make no mistake.

You’re his Player 2 (as I mentioned before).

So, he will, literally, want you to play video games with you.

That’s his idea of a date is you two playing together.

He is a sore loser though, he might love you, but he will pout for hours if you rub a victory in his face.

At the beginning of your relationship, he refused to touch you without your permission, even if he accidentally grazes you he’ll apologize and back away quickly.

He doesn’t want to risk any harm to you nor does he want to make you uncomfortable.

When you do give him permission to touch you, he’s just so gentle about it.

He caresses every curve and bump of your body as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

His favorite thing to touch of yours is definitely your hair.

He just loves the softness of it when he tangles his fingers into it.

He’s not going to do either of those things without his gloves or a single finger up of course.

Shigaraki (as we all know) is very touch starved, so any touch he gets from you is going to make him melt. Especially with how gentle you always are when touching him.

Whenever you cup his face into your hands he just leans into your touch.

As his girlfriend, you know that he just can’t deny that feeling your gentle hands on him is the absolutely most calming thing to him.

When the two of you are walking somewhere he holds out his pinky for you to intertwine yours with.

He is not fond of actual hand holding due to his quirk. (That is until you get him a glove that covers one of his fingers or his whole hand.)

With his gloves he can touch you without having to worry about his quirk but he’s still rather careful just as an extra precaution.

Kisses with Shigaraki in the beginning of your relationship were awkward since he never kissed someone before

After some time and practice he got better though.

The longer your relationship gets, you don’t ever want him to stop kissing you because he’s found a perfect balance between sweet and loving kisses and passionate kisses that leave you wanting more.

If he wants to kiss you or is in the mood to hold you in his arms, he has no shame whatsoever!

He’s going to do it wherever or whenever.

All of the other members of the League know this, so if any of them see you 2 being all lovey dovey with each other, they usually leave the room for fear of seeing the unseeable.

He stares at you hours from his usual spot at the bar whenever you and Toga are on the other side of the room.

If you meet his gaze, he’s not going to turn away, he’ll be unashamed and would keep eye contact with you.

As a boyfriend, Shigaraki is overprotective of you.

Now, it’s not because he doesn’t trust you or think that you can’t handle yourself in dangerous situations, but it’s because he’s afraid that he’s going to lose you.

So, he likes to keep you by his side so that he can protect you and also make sure you’re safe.

When he meets Overhaul at the Shie Hassaikai complex, this is no exception whatsoever, Shigaraki has you by his side as his second in command.

He also makes it VERY clear to him that you are not for trade, that you only stand beside him and no one else.

Another good example of this is when the league fights Deika.

He’d keep you by his side during the fights in the beginning, but when he begins fighting Re-Destro, he sends you away with the Twice clones to keep you safe.

After he wins against Re-Destro, you immediately run to his aid after his leg was broken and he lost three of his fingers, knowing that he was exhausted and malnourished after his month-long fight with Gigantomachia, but he just gives you a big smile.

We’ve all seen what he did to Overhaul for what he did to Magne and then what he did to Re-Destro for Giran, so we all know that if anyone even looks at you funny or threatens you in any way, shape, or form, they will be decayed instantly.

Shigaraki also makes it very clear to everyone (whether it be the other members of the League or anyone he meets/works with) that you are off limits unless they have a death wish.

It’s made very clear that you are off limits unless they have a death wish.

He’s like a cat when it comes to affection.

He’ll come to you when he wants it.

You never expect him to do anything like that.

For example, he’ll wrap his arms around you, plop his head down in your so that you can run your fingers through his hair, or he’ll pull you into his lap at really random moments.

You’d have to all but trick him into doing self-care.

You think his lips are too chapped?

Wear a lot of lip balm and give him long nice long kisses.

You want him to get a good night’s rest?

Entice him into resting with cuddles and/or sex.

You want him to bathe or shower?

You’d have to get in the tub/shower with him

When he becomes the grand commander (the king) of the Paranormal Liberation Front, he makes sure that it’s known to everyone that you’re his second-in-command (his queen), and in charge while he’s undergoing his body modifications.

When you had first heard that he was going to undergo body modifications, you were outraged by the extremely dangerous, lengthy and unnecessary surgery.

In response to your anger with his decision to undergo the procedure he’d be all mopey/whiny since you’re mad at him.

He’d try to resolve the situation quickly since he just wants you too not be mad at him anymore.

After you (albeit very reluctantly since you’d have to watch him be in pain during his visits with Dr. Kyūdai) agree to his wishes of being there for him during the 4 months he’d be undergoing with the modifications.

You stayed with him until the heroes arrived and you hid awaiting his return.

Send in an ask and I’ll add you to the taglist so that you’re tagged for every single x reader post that I post on this blog!!!

Expiation - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Even after slaying the High Kingdom's greatest enemy and sparing its people from a terrible fate, Shigaraki Tomura's past crimes make him an outcast in the castle. Still, someone has to attend to him, and that someone is you -- and unlike the maids who came before you, you're not afraid to ask a question. (cross-posted to Ao3)

This is a birthday gift for @sophsiaaa based on a suggestion of a fantasy AU Shigaraki x reader. Happy birthday (although it's definitely a bit late)!

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Chapter 1

You hear the rumors long before you see him, but the story of his arrival is told to you so many times that it’s etched into your head. It was a beautiful spring day, the fields surrounding the castle bright with wildflowers, the air humming with butterflies and bees – the kind of day on which nothing bad is allowed to happen. And then the world went still. The sun seemed to dim. The air fell silent, empty of insects and birds, and even the flowers cringed away as he led his horse past, walking so slowly that it seemed he knew his presence poisoned the world, and reveled in it. The dark knight, the one they call the White Death. Shigaraki Tomura.

The rumors are terrible, and most of them are true, but no one finds the High Kingdom unless they were meant to be here. You remember the day you stumbled out of the Forest Perilous, last of a party of dozens who had all set out together, the only one to reach the castle. The castle chose you, the same as it chose everyone born outside the walls who now resides within. The same is true of Shigaraki Tomura – Sir Tomura, or Lord Tomura, anything but the dread title he’s earned on the battlefield. There is some purpose to his presence here, although neither you nor anyone else can imagine what it is.

Most knights come to the High Kingdom with squires and servants, hauling supplies and gifts and finery to please the king. The White Death comes alone, and bears no gift – no gift other than the one he’s rumored to have tossed at King Izuku’s feet. That rumor is terrible, too. But it it’s true, it means that Shigaraki Tomura crossed a line no one else had dared to touch – in taking on the King’s fated enemy, the man prophesied to destroy the High Kingdom, and slaying him himself. Tearing down his armies himself. Singlehandedly wrecking a prophecy that has hung over the Kingdom’s head since it was first spoken, a prophecy of death and destruction that would bring a mighty kingdom to its knees.

And you suppose it did. After all, the prophecy, never said it would be your kingdom that fell.

King Izuku offers Shigaraki Tomura a seat on his council, over the objections of the rest of the council. Shigaraki Tomura accepts. And then the question turns to where he should be house, and what level of opulence is appropriate for his room, and because the gods hate you or because you’re just unlucky, you’re assigned from all the servants to help him decorate it. To create a dwelling space fit for a hero, meant to house someone who cannot be called anything but a villain.

You knock hesitantly at the door, struggling to balance the heavy wooden chest you’re carrying at the same time. When that fails to produce a response, you call out, your voice thin as it echoes through the deserted wing of the palace. “Lord Tomura?”

The door unlocks with a sharp click, then swings open, and you suck in a breath. You heard he had magic – most in the High Kingdom do, you included – but it’s considered crass to flaunt it for things that could otherwise be done by hand. You step through the door into a large, empty room. The only features in it are a window without a single pane of glass, an armoire with doors gaping open, and a canopy bed bare of both canopy and sheets. The infamous white armor is piled in the corner of the room, along with the white sword his enemies call Decay. The White Death himself sits on the edge of the bed.

He doesn’t look away from the spot on the wall where he’s fixed his eyes. “What do you want?”

“My Lord.” You bow, or curtsy, or do some awkward mix of both at once. It doesn’t matter. He’s not looking at you. “I was sent to help you put your room in order.”

“This is fine.” Shigaraki Tomura’s voice is flat and icy, devoid of anything but apathy. “The window is a nice touch.”

You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. You would be, if you were a knight and not a maid. “The window will be fixed, my Lord. In the meantime, I was sent to arrange the rest of your room. I’ve brought many things for you to choose from.”

“Many things.” He looks up at last, and you catch your breath at the sight of his crimson eyes. It’s all too easy to imagine his enemies freezing in terror, those eyes the last thing they saw before the darkness closed in. “That chest is too small for many things.”

“It’s larger on the inside,” you say. He raises an eyebrow – or he would, if he had them. “Do I have your leave to show you?”

“If it’s the case that you won’t leave me be until you do.” The White Death looks away, and you come a few steps closer. A few steps, and then a few more, until you can set the chest down within his eyeline and kneel down to open it. “What is that?”

“No one could tell me what you preferred, so I brought some of everything.” You were hoping to avoid being berated. You’re starting to think that’s unlikely. “There are sheets for the bed – and choices for the canopy, also. These are for the walls – most knights have tapestries made of your great deeds, but you’ve only just arrived. They won’t be ready for a little while.”

“Great deeds,” Shigaraki – Sir Tomura – sneers. Your ears burn. “Yes, I’m sure the weavers are lining up to chronicle mine.”

“If you say so, my Lord.” You lift out a set of curtains – curtains, for a broken window. Whoever left this for you to deal with, you hope they catch the plague. “Er, the window –”

“I didn’t say so,” Sir Tomura interrupts. You look up at him. “I have done no great deeds. It is no honor to be on your knees at my feet.”

“Pardon me, my Lord. I never said it was.”

You shouldn’t have spoken. You bow your head hastily, but not before you see a flash of interest in the White Death’s eyes. “A punishment, then. Tell me, who did you displease?”

“Nor did I say it was a punishment.” You’ve already gotten yourself in trouble. You may as well explain. “It is my duty to serve the nobles of the High Kingdom. You are one of them. And you’ve done the kingdom a great service.”

“I didn’t do it for you. Or for your wretched kingdom.” Sir Tomura is looking at you, still. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your shoulders, the exposed curve of your neck. “I might have destroyed your kingdom just as easily.”

You know that. It’s why everyone fears him, why a man with a lean, slender build casts such a long shadow. “Then why did you choose his?”

“You both wronged me. He wronged me worse.” Sir Tomura goes silent for a moment, and you dare a glance up at him. His face is still, the sneer long-gone. “And because you wronged me, too, you must suffer my presence. In honor of the great deed I have done.”

Now he sounds bitter, mocking – but not of you. He’s looking at you again. “And what terrible deed have you done, that you do not fear to raise your eyes to me?”

“Is that a requirement for meeting your eyes, my Lord?” It strikes you as an odd thing to say, when any other knight would remark on your temerity at gazing upon any noble’s face. “I did not come here to pass judgment on your deeds. I came to make your room a fitting place for a person to live.”

“Indeed,” Sir Tomura says. “But unlike the five maids who preceded you, you have not fled from the sight of me. Why?”

You would answer him if you knew, but you don’t. The rumors of him terrified you, the same as everyone else. You were frightened as you knocked at the door, frightened when you stepped into the room, and even though he’s weaponless, you have no doubt that he knows dozens of spells that will kill you where you stand. There is no doubt that the man in front of you is the White Death, the terror of battlefields across the known world, the ruination of a kingdom most thought would stand forever and the slayer of a king most thought could not be killed and the destruction of a prophecy that went unchallenged for a hundred years. You should be terrified, just as you were before, and you’re certainly wary. But you aren’t frightened any longer.

The White Death is waiting for an answer. “If I had an answer, I would give it, my Lord,” you say. You look away and begin to unpack from the chest. “Does my Lord have a preference as to colors?”

“No.” Sir Tomura’s voice carries an odd rasp, whether he’s scornful or not. “Do what you want.”

So he’ll allow you to complete your task. You wonder if the five maids who apparently preceded you tried to hold a conversation, or if they simply ran away the instant he opened the door. Some part of you wants to decorate his room in bright colors, something cheerful, but you don’t have the sense that he’ll appreciate it. You’d be better off giving him something to look at, since he spends so long staring off into space. You choose fabrics in muted colors, woven with small illusions here and there, patterns that move and change in response to the human eye. It’s likely that Sir Tomura will spend a lot of time here. He doesn’t seem to like people very much. His room should at least be a pleasant place to be.

When you’ve covered key portions of the walls, leaving space for the inevitable tapestries, you move on to laying out rugs. The stone floors in the castle are cool in the summer, cold in the winter, and Sir Tomura’s feet are bare, his boots kicked into the same pile as his sword and armor. You don’t have as many choices with the rugs. They are nothing but bright colors, woven together from scraps of fabric, and you lay them out hastily, hoping he continues to prefer staring at walls to staring at floors. Then you turn your attention to the armor. It needs to be stored properly, and there isn’t a stand in the room.

You turn to face Sir Tomura and find that he’s already watching you. “If you give me leave, my Lord, I’ll retrieve a stand for your armor.”

“It can stay where it is.”

Most knights pride themselves on their armor. Most pride themselves too much. “Won’t it rust?”

“Until it crumbles away. I don’t care.”

You don’t understand. “Sir –”

“It’s no use to me any longer.” Sir Tomura rises from the bed for the first time and crosses the room, moving with catlike grace. He lifts the breastplate from the pile one-handed and holds it out for you to inspect. You can’t miss the problem – it’s been cleaved almost in two by a single strike, torn apart as only cursed steel can do. “It can’t be fixed.”

“The best smiths in the world work here,” you venture. Sir Tomura scoffs. “They reforged One For All, and that sword was broken into nine pieces.”

“Yes, we’ve all heard the story. Good King Izuku gathered the nine pieces of One For All and proved he was the rightful king.” The disdain in the White Death’s voice is withering. “The rightful king, but not a good one. The king before him was worthless, and the queen before him, too – they let their greatest enemy grow and prosper, throughout their entire reigns.”

“They fought back,” you protest. “Queen Nana was killed fighting him – King Toshinori was badly wounded –”

“And King Izuku never tried,” Sir Tomura sneers. “In spite of their goodness, they turned away. They were too good to do what had to be done, so it fell to me to slay the monster and tear down his throne.”

Sir Tomura wasn’t mentioned in the prophecy. Why would it fall to him? “And look what I’ve done,” he continues. A harsh laugh tears free from his throat. “Spared a kingdom of cowards and fools from destruction they deserve only slightly less.”

The questions bursts out of you. “If you despise us so much, why did you come here?”

“This kingdom owes me a debt,” Sir Tomura says. “I have nowhere else to go.”

You have nothing to say in response to that. You expect Sir Tomura to look pleased at silencing you, but he doesn’t. “Receive a stand for my armor if you wish it,” he says, and you depart, feeling sick to your stomach.

The White Death’s words cling to you as you search for a spare armor stand. What had to be done. What could he mean by that? What would the White Death do that the good kings and queens of your kingdom wouldn’t try? The answer occurs to you at once. Dark magic. Magic that corrupts the mind and soul, magic that leaves cursed wounds and blighted lands in its wake. Of course the kings and queens of the High Kingdom would never do such a thing. But if that was what it would take to end the Enemy’s reign of terror, then maybe –

It’s not your place to decide such things. You find a spare stand in the armory and cart it back to the deserted wing of the palace, only to be accosted on the way by the tailor Hakamada. “You’re attending him? Good. These are for the feast tonight.”

He thrusts a package into your arms, even though your hands are already full. “Ensure he wears them. His presence is an affront, but he’ll be properly dressed if it’s the last thing I do.”

Given that Hakamada isn’t the one forcing the new clothes on Sir Tomura, it’s more likely to be the last thing you do. You set off again, struggling under the weight of both the package and the stand at once.

Sir Tomura seems surprised that you’ve returned, but he doesn’t mock you over it – yet. He allows you to set up the stand, and to begin to store his armor properly, although he refuses to allow you anywhere near the sword. “It’s cursed,” he says, even though you didn’t ask. “Once it tastes a victim’s blood, that person is doomed to wither and rot. Did you know that?”

“I heard rumors,” you say carefully. “There are many rumors about you.”

“They aren’t rumors if they’re true,” Sir Tomura says. “Almost all of them are.”

It doesn’t surprise you that the White Death knows his own legends. “Which ones aren’t?”

Sir Tomura doesn’t answer. He’s investigating the package from Hakamada, which you set down on the end of the still-unmade bed. You, meanwhile, find yourself transfixed by the tear in the breastplate of his armor. It’s been split nearly in half. You lean closer, paper and fabric rustling behind you, in order to peer at the edges of the breastplate, the padding inside, and a needle of shock and fear drives itself through you. All of it is stained with blood. “My Lord –”

You turn to find yourself facing Sir Tomura half-dressed, in clean breeches and bare feet, having just removed his shirt. His bare skin is laced with scars, some old and some newer, but none so terrible as the enormous wound in his chest, so fresh it can barely be called healed. It matches the tear in the breastplate exactly. Sir Tomura glances at the breastplate, then at you. Then he turns away.

“My Lord,” you start, “if you need a healer –”

“It’s a cursed wound,” Sir Tomura says. “It will never heal.”

That was in the prophecy, too – something about a blow from which the victor will never recover. You know it’s half the reason King Izuku held off. He has no heir, nor an obvious successor among his advisors, and everyone assumed the blow described in the prophecy would be fatal. You mind feels frozen, caught between horror and sadness and trapped in confusion. If what everyone says is true, and it is, Shigaraki Tomura is a monster. If what everyone says is true, and it is, King Izuku is a good king. If both of those things are true, then why did the monster fulfill the prophecy? Why has the good king offered him so meager a welcome? You don’t know what to do with the White Death, who saved your kingdom, whose infamous fury has yet to make an appearance since he arrived at the castle.  Neither does anyone else.

Sir Tomura is fumbling with his new shirt, cursing. You abandon the armor and come forward. “May I help, my Lord?”

He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t refuse, and you take the risk of helping anyway, straightening the useless ruffles, doing up the pearl buttons, staying well clear of the terrible wound. “It takes a monster to slay a monster,” the White Death says, as you smooth out the lines of his shirt. “And now you all must live with the monster that survived.”

He looks down at you, the ghost of the sneer from before distorting his features. “Is that pity I see on your face? Save your pity. It’s useless to me.”

“I don’t pity you,” you say. You can’t – not when he’s done such terrible things, not when you can’t begin to calculate whether what he did in fulfilling the prophecy cancels any of them out. But you do feel something. You can be honest about that. “I was thinking that it was a brave thing to do, my Lord. To face the Enemy when you weren’t the chosen one, and knowing that the consequences were severe even if you should win. That is all.”

A hint of surprise crosses Shigaraki Tomura’s face. “Do the words monster and villain mean nothing to you?”

“They do,” you say. “But I have never seen it written that a monster cannot be brave. Or that a villain must always be a villain.”

The White Death scoffs. “Are you waiting for me to become a true knight?”

“Only as long as you would wait for me to become a fair lady,” you say. “That is to say, a very long time.”

“A long time to become a lady, perhaps.” Sir Tomura extends one hand towards you, slowly, as though he’s expecting you to flinch or bolt. “You were fair before you knelt at my feet.”

You’re not sure what he means to do with his hand, but you reach out and capture it anyway. There’s only one thing you can think of to do, and you do it – bow low over it to kiss his knuckles, just as you’ve seen lords do for their ladies a thousand times. And you speak, words you’re certain no one has uttered since he arrived. “Thank you for what you did. Even if it was not done for us,” you say. “And thank you, too, for saying I was fair. You did not need to say that.”

“I didn’t lie.” Sir Tomura has yet to take his hand back. You don’t know what to do but keep holding it. “It seems that you are in my debt now.”

Just like that, you’re nervous again. You know what knights often ask, or demand, from the women who cross their paths. “How shall I repay it?”

“This feast,” the White Death says. You look up, startled. “You will accompany me.”

“My Lord –”

“Since I have arrived here, no one has met my eyes, nor spoken to me as you have.” He’s averting his eyes from yours now. “I would like to spend one evening in the company of someone who does not find my company torturous.”

“I would, my Lord, but it is simply not done.” You’re surprised at how upsetting it is to be unable to grant such a simple wish. You let go of his hand and drop into a curtsy, replacing the distance that should exist between you, rather than the odd intimacy of the last few moments. “No true knight would bring a servant as his companion to a royal feast.”

“I see,” Sir Tomura says. His hand slips beneath your chin, tilting your face upwards, and you see that same flash of interest in his red eyes. This time it has staying power, as his callused hand molds to the shape of your jaw and his lips curve into the first smile you’ve seen from him. “It’s fortunate, then, that I am no true knight.”

Why is he so pretty? 🤍

Just some doodles, plus one colored because I liked it so much.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand shoulders though

OUR FIRST CONFIRMATION OF TOUYA BEING ALIVE IS HIM SHITTING ON HIS DAD TOUYA I LOVE YOU NOBODY IS DOING IT LIKE HIM

WHAT YOU DOIN IF THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS PULLS UP WITH THE GLOCKS 🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️

Wishful dreams 😖