#it always looks so uncanny which like WORKS with tomura when they do it with him

[inkykeiji]

these images??? these images have my whole heart soaring i love him so much

i love him so much i can’t even put it into words, i want to stain his entire body in my love, i want to kiss every inch of scarred skin, messy and open-mouthed and painting him in thick petals of saliva; i want to lick over each and every staple, to feel the bumps and curves of warm metal beneath my tongue; i want to leave bites and bruises marring every bit of leftover healthy skin, my name signed into his body over and over and over again, etched out in little indents of my teeth, stamped across his flesh in brilliant blotches of blue and purple ♡

but this image????? this image will haunt me in my dreams

[lucithetrashbagfromhell]

Her Voice

Shigaraki Birthday Week Day 7: Free day

Summary:  Shigaraki has officially regained the memories of his childhood. But those memories bring along with them a haunting voice from the past. 

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602339 (A late entry, but an entry nonetheless! And I finally broke my writer’s block after literal months, so that was nice)

 @shigarakiweek

 “Tenko! Over here!”

He shut his eyes tight, the young girl’s voice echoing throughout his head.

“Come on, Tenko! Hurry up!”

Her voice was warm. Caring. Yet, every fragment of it pierced his already fragile mind like ice picks.

“Tenko! Tenko! Tenko!”

His eyes snapped open widely, looking around the room with an uncanny uneasiness. It took a few, harsh breaths of air, before he finally felt like he was able to think clearly again. Able to control the chaos in his mind.

Tomura Shigaraki remembered everything. His past, his name, his family. All the memories that his young self had locked away and abandoned, because they had hurt too much to think about. Tomura had always been the type to look towards the future rather than the past, so giving up on his old self and embracing his new life as Tomura Shigaraki, the heir of All For One, had seemed logical. Relieving perhaps, for such a young child. Tomura wasn’t sure, and for the most part he also didn’t care. He wasn’t a child anymore. He had grown, he had fought, and he had clawed his way all the way up to where he was now. With the Meta Liberation Army now under his leadership, he was closer than ever to reach his ultimate goal of destroying the Hero Society and everything else that he loathed, so why—

Why was he letting himself get distracted by those voices of the past? Those few, yet hauntingly clear snapshots of his old life, which played on an endless loop every time he tried to close his eyes.

They were dead! They were all dead and gone and it didn’t matter anymore!

He felt a string of pain roam through his body, as his nail ran over a patch of newly exposed flesh. When had he started scratching himself? It had become such an automatic mechanism that he barely noticed it before he eventually drew blood.

How annoying.

With a sharp exhale, Tomura dried off his bloody fingertips in his pants, leaving the bare wound on his neck be. It would heal eventually. Probably.

Slender, bandaged fingers slowly reached up to remove the hand from his face. The only hand that hadn’t been completely destroyed in the fight against Re-Destro and his army. The only remains of his so-called ‘family’.

After carefully placing the hand on the table beside him, Tomura leaned back in his chair, eyes fixated on the ceiling above, as he tried to empty his mind. It was at times like these that he missed the bar hideout the most. The dimly lit, rustic place where he had spent a good part of his childhood and teenage years. He missed his messy bedroom, where he had been able to lock himself away for hours, sometimes even days at a time, indulging himself in either All For One’s assigned work or the virtual reality of his games, where the worlds often were so much better than the one outside his closed blinds. He missed the small peak of excitement he used to get whenever his Sensei would call him, eager and ready to prove that he was well on his way to be the villain, All For One had always believed he would be. He missed his pointless, yet strangely comfortable small talks with Kurogiri, and even the times they would just exist beside each other in silence.

But it was gone now.

“Oh no, Tenko!”

It was all just worthless memories that would get him nowhere in the end.

“Tenko, please don’t cry! It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Useless. Pointless.

“It’ll be okay, Tenko, it’ll be okay. Remember what mom told us, breathe slowly. Let’s do it together, okay? Breathe in slowly…and breathe out…yes like that! Alright Tenko, one more time, breathe in…”

“...and breathe out…” Tomura slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision before letting a single, shaky finger ran down his face.

His cheeks were wet.

“Tenko, I’m so sorry…”

Tomura dried his face with the back of his hands, ignoring the nausea that was welling up in his throat.

There was no Tenko anymore. Tenko Shimura had died that day together with the rest of his family, demolished and turned to dust. And from his ashes, the cursed existence of Tomura Shigaraki had risen. Born solely to be a weapon of destruction. That was who he was. That was the only self he was able to accept.

As time passed, the days gradually melting together, Tomura would be continuously haunted by the images of the past. Flashes of chaos, the cries of confusion and the horrifying silence that had marked the end of everything he had known up until that point.

Tomura could still see them every time he closed his eyes, but he soon turned his back to the emotions they had brought him. Repressing and rejecting them, like he had done so many times before. The memories became just another part of his archive of nightmares.

And the warm, caring voice inside his mind disappeared for good.