Flamme-shigaraki-spithoe - Just A Big Simp 🤌✨

I'm not against this clown coming in my room, personally!

i think (if i’m not mistaken) shigaraki is the only one in the game who had 2 suggestive lines and you’re telling me this guy doesn’t watch porn?

please just stop

can y'all men stop calling us chicks ? Like i get its probably not mean to be an insult but as a french its just so weird ! What do you want us to call y'all balls☺️👌

No...please girl don't do that too...😂😭

This is pretty self indulgent

Moons socially awkward hes trying alright

Old art dump pt 4

Okay so I Need to ask. Repressed Shigaraki, after that initial night, how would he go about handling his libido. Like would he ask you out or just daydream a lot? What if it got out of hand (lol hand) and he couldn't take it

He… wouldn’t. Handle it, that is. He’s convinced himself that he’s “immune” to such temptation, so when it smacks him in the face like a damn ceiling fan, he has no clue how to go about it. He’s never dealt with overbearing lust before. This is all new to him. He’ll get a little hormonal rise every now and again but usually he can deal with it with the ol’ in-out four finger palm pump. Not this time.

Afficher davantage

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 11) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

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

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Chapter 11

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. You’ve had various types of feelings about it since you figured out the details, but none of it quite compares to the sheer annoyance you feel when you wake up in the middle of the night to find Tomura dragging you off the couch. “What are you doing?”

“Shut up.” Tomura’s hand comes down over your mouth. “There’s a ghost out there.”

“Are you sure it’s a ghost?” you hiss around his hand. “What if it’s a conjurer.”

“Ghost.” Tomura shakes his head, then frowns. “Two ghosts. No. I don’t know.”

You try to stand up for a look and Tomura yanks you back. “Stay down. They can’t know you’re here.”

“My car is in the driveway,” you point out, exasperated. “They know someone’s here. And if they really are a ghost, why would they –”

Tomura dematerializes partially, going almost transparent. You’ve seen him do that before, when he’s trying to push his influence past the boundaries of the neighborhood or intensify its effects, and from out in the street you hear someone cough, then retch, then cough again. It sounds awful, but the sound is getting louder. Whoever it is, they’re coming closer. It has to be a conjurer. There’s no way another ghost would keep dragging themselves forward knowing Tomura’s waiting for them. If it’s a conjurer, not a ghost – Aizawa’s words flash through your head. “Stay here,” you tell Tomura. “I’ll handle this.”

“What?” Tomura lunges for you, but he can’t materialize fast enough. You get to the front of the house before he can grab you and peer out the window.

There are two people on the sidewalk. One of them is a woman, tall and dark-haired, dressed in the kind of clothes you can’t imagine wearing, let alone going outside in. She’s dragging someone with her, a man with blueish-purple hair. A man who looks sort of familiar, although you can’t place him. A man who’s definitely unconscious. The woman pushes open your front gate, steps over the threshold, and promptly dry-heaves into the dead grass. Tomura’s intensified his influence, so toxic that it’s even making you dizzy, but the woman keeps dragging herself forward, pulling the unconscious man after her.

She doubles over again, retches again, and calls out in a voice that trembles and cracks, barely loud enough to hear. “Help us,” she begs. “Help us, please –”

“Get out,” Tomura hisses, his voice reverberating through the house and into the yard, but something twinges in the back of your mind as you study the unconscious man. You open the door. “Don’t –”

Tomura grabs for you again, misses again, and you step out onto the front porch. The woman in the yard looks up at you. Her eyes are wide in the porch light and she’s blinking hard, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Her eyes are watering, or it looks like they should be. She’s blinking, but there are no tears coming down her face. The air ripples around her strangely, and suddenly you understand what she is, why she’s so affected by Tomura’s aura, why her eyes only work halfway. She’s a ghost. Not a former one. An unbound one.

The person she’s dragging is a ghost, too – or is he? The longer you look at him, the more familiar he gets, and the more obvious it becomes that something’s wrong. “I know him,” Tomura says suddenly. “He was here –”

The name clicks into place in your head. “Shirakumo,” you say, and the man stirs, groans. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” the unbound ghost says. She looks past you, focused on Tomura. “Please let us in.”

Tomura’s never let even a former ghost into the house. There’s no way he’ll let in a live one, especially not like this. But he’s not looking at her. He’s looking at Shirakumo, then at you, and then at Shirakumo again. Then back to you. “It’s our house,” he says, almost hesitantly. This is the wrong time for you to get butterflies, but it happens anyway. You’re really stupid. You nod, and Tomura faces the unbound ghost again. “If you try anything, I’ll kill you. You can drag him up here on your own.”

Tomura, in spite of everything, is still an asshole. You hurry down the steps barefoot to help the ghost carry Shirakumo, and when you touch him, you recoil in shock. Some parts of Shirakumo’s body are hot, so burning hot that you can feel them through his shirt. Other parts of him are so cold that it’s like sticking your hand in a bowl of dry ice, colder by far than what Tomura projects. Shirakumo’s not a ghost. He wasn’t a ghost when you met him. But touching him now feels like walking over your own grave.

Tomura helps to a certain extent, if only by propping the door open with his foot and holding Phantom so she won’t run away. He levels a question at the unbound ghost as the two of you carry Shirakumo up the stairs. “Why did you come here?”

“He told me about this place,” she says. She’s starting to have trouble holding her form. You can tell by the way her voice wavers, the way Shirakumo’s full weight falls on you for a split second. “It was the only place we could hide.”

“Hide from what?” you ask. The unbound ghost looks helplessly at you. “Where did you come here from?”

She says the name of a city. You see her mouth move, but the name goes in one ear and out the other without sticking in your thoughts. You have to ask her to say it again, and then the weight of what she’s saying crashes down on you. It’s a good thing you’ve finally made it to the living room and dropped Shirakumo on the couch. If you hadn’t, you’d have dropped him on the floor in horror.

You try to hide it, but Tomura notices. How long has Tomura known you this well? He issues a few threats to the other ghost about what will happen if she touches you or Phantom, then comes over to you. “What?”

“It’s –” You don’t know how to explain. You didn’t explain what you and Aizawa were looking for when you went back to the office “A ghost went missing in the city she just said. A conjurer was in that city, too. He could have had something to do with this.”

“I don’t know what this is.” Tomura makes a sharp, frustrated gesture. “He’s alive. You’re human and even you can see that. You can’t see the ghost. If you could you’d never have touched him. Fuck!”

The lights flicker. “Calm down,” you plead. You hold out your hands for Tomura’s and he gives them to you. “What do you mean? There’s another ghost?”

“It’s – attached to him. Part of him but not. It’s –” Tomura wavers for a moment, his materialization failing. His shoulders heave like he’s about to throw up. “It hurts.”

“Garaki did this.” The unbound ghost is mostly dematerialized now, down to nothing but a pair of eyes and a mouth and a voice. It’s unsettling to look at. “His conjurer. I don’t know how. We barely got away.”

On your couch, Shirakumo stirs. Shirakumo, or the ghost that’s apparently attached to him. When he speaks, you can hear two voices in one. “Kill me.”

“No,” you say reflexively. You can’t have a dead body on your couch, and you need more information. You need to know what happened. You need to know why. “I’m going to call Aizawa.”

Aizawa’s going to kick your ass for calling him this late. You pick up the phone and call him anyway, and he picks up on the fifth ring in the worst mood you’ve ever encountered him in. “This had better be important.”

“I found the ghost who went missing,” you say. Aizawa swears. “One ghost, and one person who’s – they’re alive, but there’s a ghost attached to them –”

“Where are they?” Aizawa demands, but it only takes him a second to figure out why you’re the one calling him. “They’re in your house?”

“Uh – yes.” You glance at Tomura. Tomura is scowling. “They said the person who did this – it was Garaki.”

You’re expecting some kind of response from Aizawa. Instead there’s a scuffle on his end of the line, and you hear Hizashi’s voice, faintly. “Shou, I’m not fucking around. Give me the goddamn phone.” A moment later, you hear his voice loud and clear. “Put your ghost on. Right now.”

You hand the phone off to Tomura in a hurry, desperate to get away from Hizashi’s voice. Tomura takes the phone and lifts it to his ear. “What do you want? I –”

You can’t hear Hizashi’s voice anymore, even when you come closer, and Tomura isn’t speaking out loud in response. They’re talking, though. You don’t know how, but they are. When you put your hand on Tomura’s shoulder, you feel tension that shouldn’t be there. The physical contact is a mistake. Tomura’s free hand snakes out, wraps around your waist, and pulls you tightly in against his side. A moment later he hangs up the phone.

“What happened?” you ask. Tomura’s jaw is clenched so tightly that tendons are standing out in his neck. “Tomura –”

“They’re coming here,” Tomura says through gritted teeth. “All four of them.”

“They’re all coming here?” you ask, shocked. “Why?”

“It’s their fault.” Tomura throws a venomous glance back into the living room. “That conjurer is hunting them. He’ll follow them here. He’ll pass Aizawa’s house before he gets here.”

“So? He’s not –” You remember your conversation with Aizawa earlier, the picture you found of the conjurer, the fact that Aizawa kept it. “He’s Hizashi’s conjurer, too.”

Tomura nods once. “They’re coming here to hide,” he says. The lights flicker again. “I can’t be here. My body. I have to make a shield.”

“Did Hizashi tell you to do that?” You’re going to have words for Hizashi when he gets here. “Garaki’s not even your conjurer. Why are you –”

“It’s our stupid neighborhood,” Tomura snaps. Your jaw drops. “Don’t look at me like that. I have to go.”

“Wait,” you say, struggling to speak around the shock. Tomura stops mid-dematerialization, and you step close to him, wrap your arms around a body that’s barely there enough to embrace, press a kiss to a mouth that’s less than a whisper against your own. You sound insane even to yourself when you speak. “Be careful.”

He vanishes without a word, and you kick yourself. Be careful? Garaki’s not his conjurer, and even if he was, Tomura’s still a ghost – an unbelievably powerful ghost, powerful enough to cast an aura over the entire neighborhood. There’s nothing for Tomura to be careful of. Tomura’s going to be fine. That’s more than you can say of any of the unexpected guests you’ll be hosting this evening.

Aizawa and the others will be here soon. In the meantime, you turn to the last spot you saw the unbound ghost. “What should I call you?”

“My customers call me Midnight.” That explains her outfit when she’s materialized, at least. “My friends call me Nemuri.”

“Nemuri,” you say. You nod at Shirakumo on the couch – Shirakumo, and whatever ghost he’s fused to, are unconscious again. “Which one is he?”

“A little of both.” Her eyes are bright blue. They appear briefly, aimed at Shirakumo, then vanish. “The ghost he’s bound to was the same.”

Phantom’s been sniffing Shirakumo’s hand where it dangles over the edge of the couch, but suddenly she jumps up and runs to the front door. Aizawa and the others must be here. You check out the front window to make sure and find them negotiating the path to your front steps, Aizawa dragging Hizashi and Shinsou carrying Eri. You feel the air inside the house ripple as they approach. “What happened?”

“Your ghost has intensified his aura. It’s making them ill.” Aizawa dumps Hizashi into the porch swing, then turns to lift Eri out of Shinsou’s arms. “Can’t you feel it?”

You can’t feel anything – just unease that gets worse when you see the same emotion on Aizawa’s face. Aizawa sits down on the front steps, and so does Shinsou, and something occurs to you. “Did Tomura say you couldn’t come in?”

“Hizashi gave that impression, right before he threw up.”

Tomura, as always, is an asshole. “It defeats the purpose of hiding if you’re out in plain sight on the porch,” you say. “Come in.”

Aizawa hands Eri back to Shinsou, and you help him haul Hizashi off the porch swing and into the house. “Nice place you’ve got here,” Hizashi mumbles. “Aside from the ghost. Dammit –”

He retches, but nothing comes up. Eri, meanwhile, is quiet and wide-eyed. “It’s nicer in here,” she says. “It feels safe.”

“That would be the aura,” you say awkwardly. Your house doesn’t really have a lot of entertainment value for little kids. “Um –”

“It’s not the aura. The aura’s hideous,” Hizashi mutters. “The aura’s not in here. Not many houses have a happy ghost in them.”

You’re really not sure how you’re supposed to take that. “I don’t think Tomura feels –”

Six months ago you could have ended the sentence there. I don’t think Tomura feels. He reacts to sensations. He has things he wants and things he doesn’t. He’s territorial and possessive and easily pissed off, but feelings? Tomura doesn’t have those. Not for anyone. Not for you.

An awkward silence falls. “No, he does,” Eri says blithely, oblivious to how deeply you’re cringing. “Everything is bad out there, but it’s happy in here because he is.”

You decide you’re not going to think about that right now. You look to Aizawa. “You need to take a look at this. Something’s really wrong with this person.”

Aizawa follows you to the living room, but so does Hizashi, and when they see Shirakumo, both of them curse. Hizashi hurries forward, then stops as a full-body shiver runs through him. “God, Nem – back off! I’m trying to help!”

They know each other. While Hizashi tries to untangle himself from Nemuri, Aizawa examines Shirakumo, his expression darkening by the second. “The ghost attached to him is trying to drain him of energy and escape, but because it’s attached to him, it’s experiencing the pain of the siphoning simultaneously. If it could be convinced to stop –”

“The ghost? Nem says she’s been trying.” Hizashi is still grimacing, but he’s not throwing up on your floor, so you decide to call it a win. “It won’t listen. And I wouldn’t have, if that had been me. If I’d been forced to embody myself, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Forced embodiment? Is that what this is?” You look at Shirakumo, then back at Hizashi. “Why would Garaki want that?”

“The ghost is still a ghost. It’s still got powers,” Hizashi says. “And now it’s got a guaranteed source of energy, and a semi-permanent anchor to the human world.”

So Garaki turned Shirakumo into a living battery for the ghost who went missing. “Combine that with the pain and rage this situation will inspire in the ghost, and you’ve got the recipe for a rampage,” Hizashi continues. He reaches out and puts his hand on Shirakumo’s forehead. “At least, that’s what’s supposed to happen.”

Nemuri’s voice emanates from the corner of the room. “What do you mean?”

“Our friend’s never wanted to hurt anyone in his entire existence,” Hizashi says. “I don’t know Shirakumo, but they must be similar, because they’re in agreement: They don’t want to hurt anyone. They’d rather die.”

“They want to die,” you correct. Nobody’s dying in your house. “What do we do?”

The silence that falls is panic-inducing, especially when Shirakumo stirs again, groans again. Eri comes over and takes his hand, and Hizashi’s hand remains on his forehead. They’re trying to calm the ghost, and there’s only one ghost whose moods you can alter. You back away from the couch and retreat into the kitchen. Shinsou and Aizawa follow you. Shinsou switches on the sink, followed by the garbage disposal, and turns to Aizawa. “Dad, what do we do?”

Aizawa switches off the garbage disposal and turns off the water. Then he’s quiet for a little while. “Our options are limited,” he says finally. “I doubt Nemuri made significant efforts to cover her tracks, and the ghost fused with Shirakumo was likely unable to do so at all. If we proceed under the assumption that our location’s been compromised and Garaki is on his way, the question turns to how we can defend ourselves.”

“You have that gun,” you point out. “What was it you said? It takes a lot of ghostly power to stop a bullet?”

“It takes a lot of ghostly power to fuse a ghost to a human being,” Aizawa says. “We have no idea how that process works, or how quickly Garaki can accomplish it. That means none of us are free from risk in facing him. Even Tomura –”

“If Garaki was Dad’s conjurer, Dad’s probably his upper limit as far as power goes,” Shinsou breaks in. “Tomura’s way above that. Besides, Tomura is another conjurer’s ghost. Would he really mess with somebody else’s ghost?”

“Tomura can’t influence the living world outside the property line,” you remind Shinsou. Then you look at Aizawa. “And didn’t you say that no conjurer on the planet is dumb enough to come in here? If you want Tomura to deal with the conjurer, you have to get the conjurer past the fence.”

“Maybe we lure him,” Shinsou muses. “Use Dabi as bait or something. Get him to follow Dabi down to this end of the road and then shove him into the yard.”

The mention of Dabi’s name sets off an alarm bell. “We have to warn Keigo. He should be over here, too.”

“That’s another problem. We can’t stay hidden here forever,” Aizawa says. “Tomura will lose patience, and even if he doesn’t, our absences will be noted. It’s in this conjurer’s best interest to make us wait.”

“No, it isn’t.”

The voice is Tomura’s, disembodied and raspy and rough – and tired. He sounds tired. “The longer he waits, the more time we have to plan. The more time me and that other ghost have to store up power. If he waits, he loses.” It’s quiet for a second. “He’ll be here by tonight.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s what I’d do.” Hizashi’s voice, just as disembodied as Tomura’s, floats in from the living room. “Send the search team and Atsuhiro out, like we’ve been doing. Send the kids to school. Go to work.”

That last is to you. Hizashi addresses his husband next. “Shou, you can take the day off. Go get some invasive plants. We need batteries for Nemuri and Tomura – and Dabi.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Dabi’s remaining powers are unpredictable.”

“If we can’t predict them, neither can Garaki.” Hizashi’s quiet for a second. “He’s like any other ghost. He doesn’t like the idea of anyone taking what’s his.”

Hizashi’s words take a second to sink in. In the panic over Garaki’s impending arrival, you forgot why Garaki’s coming here in the first place. Two of his ghosts are in this neighborhood, two ghosts who shirked their duty. Garaki’s coming to punish them. And the fastest way to punish them is to take away the people they embodied themselves for. It’s not Dabi and Hizashi who are in danger. It’s Keigo and Aizawa – and because Hizashi has a family, Shinsou and Eri, too.

“Are you sure we should act like things are normal?” you ask. “We can’t protect Shinsou and Eri if they’re away from the neighborhood, and we don’t know how closely Garaki’s watching us.”

“He doesn’t know to look for them,” Aizawa says. “What Hizashi did is – unusual. Embodied ghosts don’t typically like to share their humans, even with their children. It’s not something Garaki will think to check.”

“Then you should stay home,” you say to Aizawa. His eyes flash. “You and Keigo. The rest of the team can go out and I’ll take off work to buy the batteries. My boss will understand.”

Mr. Yagi is probably going to tell you that you shouldn’t go out, either, but you’ve got the bracelets, and nobody’s looking for you. You make your way back into the living room, over to Hizashi and Eri. Shinsou and Aizawa follow you in. “It’s late,” you say. “Shinsou, Eri, you both can sleep up in my room. Aizawa, Hizashi, you can have the floor. I’ve got extra blankets and everything. I think it’s probably best if Shirakumo stays on the couch.”

“I’ll stay up with him. Someone needs to keep him calm,” Hizashi says. “I’ll try to find out what happened, too. All right?”

He’s not asking you. He’s asking Aizawa. Aizawa looks unhappy, but he nods. He brushes past you, kisses Hizashi’s forehead, and turns back for the children. He scoops Eri up and puts a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder before looking to you. “Lead the way.”

The only person who’s ever been up to the top floor since you moved in is you. You show everyone where the upstairs bathroom is, switch out the heavy blanket on the bed for one that you and Tomura weren’t hooking up on, and drag an ancient sleeping bag out of hiding for Aizawa to use. Then you stand there awkwardly, trying to think if there’s anything else you need to take care of as a host. “Um, Tomura sometimes comes in here at night, but I don’t think he will if I’m not up here. He’ll stay out of the bathroom, too. If you hear anything weird it’s probably just Phantom. She has a crate to sleep in, but she might be a little more active tonight.”

“Can she sleep on the bed?” Shinsou asks.

“No,” Aizawa says before you can answer. “Your sister is allergic, and so am I. We’d prefer to sleep with the door shut.”

“No problem.” You head for the door.

“But this is your bed,” Eri says around a yawn. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“I probably won’t,” you say. “I have some things to take care of.”

You have to let the rest of the neighborhood know what’s happening, communicate the plan, and convince them to follow it, starting with Keigo. Aizawa can probably guess that. “Wake me if you need help.”

You nod and switch off the light. Then you step into the hallway and shut the door behind you.

The house always feels alive, but right now it feels chaotic. There are two live ghosts, two former ghosts, and one ghost-human abomination inside it, and the clashing energies are making your head hurt. You push through it long enough to retrieve your laptop and sit down at the kitchen table. You leave the lid of it shut. The first thing you need to do is give Keigo a wakeup call.

But as you’re unlocking your phone, you see something scribbled on the back of your hand. It takes you a second to remember what it is, but once you remember, you set your phone aside and open up your laptop to search Garaki’s forwarding address. It’s a fancy hotel in a city an hour or so north of yours. You need to confirm if he’s still there. The trick you used before should work just fine. You check the reporter’s name again, block your number, and call the hotel. When the reception desk picks up, you give them the reporter’s name and ask for Dr. Garaki.

“I’m afraid you just missed him. The doctor checked out this morning,” the receptionist says. Your heart sinks. “My apologies. What did you say your name was?”

You repeat your borrowed name – and your borrowed cover story. “Did he leave a forwarding address? There’s been an update to the story I wrote and my boss wants me to get a comment.”

“Let me see.” The receptionist’s fingernails click audibly against the keys. “Yes, he did. It’s –”

You write the entire address, but your fingers go numb after you’ve written the city name. It’s here. Garaki’s at a fancy hotel in your city, which means Tomura’s right, and Hizashi’s right, too. He knows where you are. He’ll be here soon. He’ll be here tomorrow.

You thank the receptionist for her help, hang up the phone, and lean back in your chair, feeling sick to your stomach. Garaki’s here. You have his exact location. You could call the hotel right now and get his room number, and then you could borrow Aizawa’s gun and go solve this yourself. It would be easy. You’d wear your bracelets, so he wouldn’t see you coming, and you’d blow his head off the instant he opened the door. All the ghostly power in the world won’t save him if he’s caught by surprise. You could do all that if you want to go to prison for the rest of your life.

You push the thought away. You need to strategize, and you can’t do it alone. As much as you hate to do it, you pick up your computer and your phone and make your way into the living room to join Hizashi.

He doesn’t look up. “I heard you on the phone. Did you get something?”

“I know where Garaki is.” That gets Hizashi’s attention, and you turn your laptop around to show him. “I can’t think of how we’d get him without someone going to prison.”

Nemuri’s voice emanates from the chair you were planning to sit in. “I could go.”

“His power level’s too high. In a straight fight he’d win,” Hizashi says. Nemuri emits a scathing noise. “He’s already gotten one of my friends, Nem. I don’t have a lot of friends. I don’t want to lose another one.”

“Tomura’s plan could still work,” you say. “Somebody could lure him out of there, out of sight, and we could take care of it.”

“Something’s already luring him out of there. Us. Tomorrow night.” Hizashi says. “This is our territory. He thinks he’s coming here to retrieve Shirakumo and punish me and Dabi. He’s not going to be ready for Nem, and he’s sure as hell not going to be ready for Tomura. Even if Tomura can’t leave the property, he can project his aura, and if he focuses it on one person, it’ll slow them down significantly.”

“Wouldn’t he have to decloak the whole neighborhood?”

“Only for a split second. That’s all we’ll need,” Hizashi says. He pitches his voice to carry. “You can do that, right, Crusty?”

Whatever Tomura says in response, he doesn’t say it out loud. Hizashi grimaces. “We’re all set on that front,” he announces to everybody who wasn’t in on the conversation, which is just you and Phantom. “In other news, I found out what happened with our friend and this guy. He calmed down enough to tell me, and it’s – not good.”

“Spit it out,” Nemuri says, and you nod in agreement. “Can it be fixed?”

“If it can, we’re not the ones to do it,” Hizashi says heavily. Nemuri’s despair floods the room. “It seems like Garaki’s found a way to temporarily bind ghosts – something that allows him to capture and contain them while he finds and contains a host. From there, he has to draw the host’s life-force out enough for the ghost to latch onto it. I can’t tell if it’s the fastest way or the only way, but whatever way it is, he does it through torture.”

“Until the host loses their will to live,” you realize, and Hizashi nods. “That’s when he ties the ghost to them. Like binding a ghost to a house.”

“Right. Except a ghost bound to a house can destroy it and escape,” Hizashi says. “As far as I can tell, this type of binding leads the ghost to view the human host as an extension of themselves. Killing the human is the same as killing themselves, and ghosts, uh – we don’t do that.”

“You don’t or you can’t?”

“Both,” Nemuri says. “We can’t destroy our own essences, and even if we could, what purpose would there be in it? We aren’t like humans. What makes humans kill themselves, anyway? Do you know?”

She’s asking Hizashi – Hizashi, who looks weirdly disquieted. “Don’t look at me. Ask the human.”

“Ask Google,” you say. “I’m not an expert on human stuff just because I’m human.”

Nemuri either doesn’t know what Google is or doesn’t care. “Why do humans kill themselves?’

There are two ghosts staring at you now, and distantly, you can feel Tomura’s eyes on you. “Um,” you start. “So, there are a lot of reasons why. Usually it’s multiple reasons at once, I think. Sometimes it’s after something bad has happened to us – something traumatic, or something we feel really guilty about. Or someone we love leaving us or dying. Sometimes it’s smaller stuff that builds up over time, like having depression or alcohol or things like that. Or being really lonely for a long time.”

As you’re talking it, it occurs to you that everything you’ve said has something in common. You can’t tell if it’s a brand-new realization or some long-ago memory of psych 101 crawling to the surface, but you say it anyway. “There are lots of reasons why a human might kill themselves. But people who do that – they do it because they think things are going to be like that forever, that nothing’s ever going to change. And they decide they can’t take it anymore.”

You sounded way too authoritative when you said that. You qualify it in a hurry. “I think.”

The ghosts, both present and former, sit with that for a second. “But some things can’t be changed,” Nemuri says, puzzled. “A human who dies is gone forever. Humans die every day and the rest of you don’t kill yourselves over it.”

“You’re right. We can’t change death. But how we feel about it can change,” you explain. “We can grieve. And we can move on. So thinking about the person we’ve lost will hurt less.”

“Ghosts can’t change,” Hizashi says quietly. He glances up at the ceiling, probably looking for the room where Aizawa’s sleeping. “I won’t be here long after he’s gone.”

“Don’t say that,” you say without thinking. “For all you know, you’ll go first.”

It’s dead silent for a moment. Then Hizashi bursts into quiet but somehow still raucous laughter. “Serves me right for being dramatic. Now I get how you handle him.”

You wouldn’t say Tomura was dramatic, exactly. Moody would probably be more accurate, and like you’ve summoned him on a thought, he materializes right in front of you. You’ve been sitting on the floor, laptop balanced in your lap, and he sets it aside to make room for himself. He doesn’t seem to care that you’re in full view of everybody, or that Hizashi is staring unabashedly at the two of you, his jaw practically on the floor. “What about the shield?” you ask faintly.

Tomura’s busy getting situated in your lap. He’s fully materialized, his face pressed into the curve of your neck. “I can do that and this at the same time.”

“He can,” Nemuri says after a moment. “It feels just as it did before. Most of us aren’t able to utilize our powers in the psychic plane and maintain control of our energy usage at the same time.”

“Our little misanthrope is quite impressive. We’re very proud,” Hizashi says, only partially sarcastically. He makes eye contact with you. “Have you updated the others on the plan yet? Maybe save the cuddling until after your work is done.”

You’re conscious of how tightly Tomura is holding onto you, and simultaneously, how brittle his grip feels. You reach out to close the lid of your laptop and pick up your phone instead. “I can do that and this at the same time.”

Hizashi and Nemuri have probably been hanging out among humans long enough to know that seeing a man sitting in a woman’s lap is weird, but thankfully they both keep quiet. Nemuri’s presence drifts away, heading out to the front porch, and Hizashi focuses back in on Shirakumo. You wait until they’re both occupied before you turn your attention to Tomura officially. “Are you okay?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m doing what I’d do if none of them were here.”

“If you were doing that, you’d be staring at me from the corner of the room.” Your bed, with you, at night, is a boundary Tomura’s never tried to breach while embodied. You’re not sure why. “What is it?”

Tomura shakes his head. More of his weight falls against you, and you scoot back a few inches, leaning against the wall to prop yourself up. Tomura’s hair brushes against your cheek, and you bring the hand that’s not holding your phone up and begin to work it through the tangles. It’s not something you do often. Usually when Tomura’s materialized this close to you, he’s after a hookup, and he usually dematerializes fast after the two of you are done. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s been like this, and two of them happened today.

Maybe he’s just tired. Ghosts might not be able to sleep, but you’ve never seen or heard anybody claim that they can’t get tired. “I’m going to call the others and update them,” you say to him, and he nods. “Stay here as long as you want.”

Tomura doesn’t respond this time, just settles against you, heavy and cold. You keep combing your fingers through his hair and call Keigo first. He doesn’t pick up on the first call, so you call back again, already feeling awful about the news you’re going to give him. After you call him, you’ll call Spinner next, then Jin – and then you’ll work your way through the other numbers, until everybody in the neighborhood and Mr. Yagi outside of it know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Thinking about it scares you, even if it’s not your ghost the conjurer is after. It would scare you more if Tomura wasn’t here.

Maybe that’s why this is happening. Maybe he knows you’re scared, or maybe he’s scared, too. You try to be careful about things that reveal your feelings, but you turn your head and kiss his temple, letting your mouth linger there for longer than really necessary. A lot longer. You don’t pull away until Keigo picks up your call. He sounds sleepy, and like he’s in a mood. “This had better be good.”

“Keigo. Hi.” Your stomach clenches with anxiety, and you focus as best you can on the texture of Tomura’s hair as it slides through your fingers. It grounds you, somehow, the same way as his weight in your lap does. “Sorry to wake you. It’s about Garaki.”

The Night Shift - Chapter 37 - Certified_Handler - Five Nights at Freddy's [Archive of Our Own]

What if we could lay an egg with narinder ?

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

I don't really know you but you have my full support TvT

I apologize to all my followers for how mentally unwell I am about Sun's new voicelines in Help Wanted 2