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plush-rabbit · 3 years

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Rescued By A Hero

Request: Hi Plush!! I love your Shiggy work and I was hoping I could request something (this is soft shiggy anon btw). If you are up to doing Yandere, how do you think Shiggy would react if his darling came back to him after they got “rescued” by a hero? I use she/her pronouns but feel free to use any pronouns in it. I love your work and I would love to see how you feel about this!!!

A/N: all my mind has right now is Shigaraki (im also using Fatgum for this because I love him)

Tomura waits patiently in his room. While he’s usually the one to get things done in a timely manner or at least not waste time, he can give you mercy. You had to go out and you had kept your promise of checking up on him every ten minutes. At least, you had, until recently. He waits, biting his bottom lip and tearing off the skin; he’s growing impatient but he’s sure you have a good reason as to why you haven’t been responding to his calls or messages. When you walk through the door, he’s quick to rise, ready to reprimand you and remind you of the deal that you both made, but you hug him with a shaky body, apologizing and holding onto him. He’s startled, arms wide and away from you but he doesn’t know what happened. He waits for a minute, letting the initial shock wear off, until you pull away. You have tears in your eyes and there’s a bandage on your cheek. His gaze darkens, the knuckles of his fingertips ghosting over the bandage. You don’t allow him to ask the question, already explaining that you were mugged- at least a would-be victim until a hero came by to rescue you.

His eyes go wide and he’s pulling himself away from you. You continue to talk- your eyes glowing and your speech stuttering as you mention the jovial hero who came to your aid. You don’t seem to sense how agitated he’s growing, the way that his hands have now fisted, compared to yours that flutter to your bicep where the hero had no doubt touched you. He could only imagine what the hero did to you, the way that the hero is known to cushion, to shield people with his own body. He’s glad that you’re safe but you’ve been touched by a hero- something that you welcomed or at the very least, don’t hate.

Right now, you’re safe, but at what cost? The cost of someone else touching you? The cost of having someone other than him, protecting you? Jealousy and insecurity wraps tightly around him, making him feel sick. He can feel his skin prick, the itchiness that won’t seem to fade, and he resists, digs his nails into his hands to avoid associating you with his habit. He calls your name and it’s then that he realizes that you’ve still been rattling on and on about your encounter with the hero. However, you stay quiet, looking at him and finally seeing him. You frown and say his name in a soft, almost pitiful, whisper.

Barely in his vision, he can see your hands twitch upwards, moving to hold his that has pierced his skin. You barely inch forward before he’s hugging you tightly, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He wants to rid the touch of the pro-hero, his mouth filling with acid and stomach churning when he can smell something other than your perfume on you. He tricks himself into thinking that it’s possibly the one who had tried to rob you but that makes him feel worse, rather than jealousy, it’s anger that seeps in.

With the thought of someone hurting you so present in his mind, his arms tighten around you and he pulls away, he tries to mask his anger, but his grip on you is tight and he keeps you by his side. He sits you down, keeping a hand on you as he tries to collect his thoughts. If he’s worked up, it’ll do no good for you to recall the event. You may be safe now, but it could have been part of an organized crime, or even someone out there looking for revenge. He wants the details that you can remember. He needs to hear who it was; he doesn’t care if the one who tried to hurt you had already been arrested, you could still have a hit on you.

With every word, he grows frantic. His worry rubs off on you, your trembling returns, and he doesn’t seem to notice the way that your eyes grow wet with fresh tears. He ignored the bouncing of your leg, pushing you for further information until you’re sobbing in front of him. You’re mumbling his name, clinging to the bottom of his shirt and shaking your head. He stops, his words coming to a slow pace as you creep towards him and twist his shirt in your hands, begging for him to stop, that you’ll tell him whatever he needs, but you can’t- not right now. He takes a good look at you, seeing the way your clothes are still ruffled, wrinkled and ruined and the bandage that clings to your skin. You’re still terrified, still affected by the incident.

Rather than anger, guilt takes over. He hadn’t meant to be one of the worries in your life, to cause more trouble and anxiety over something. His arms return around you, his hold strong against you and he’s kissing the top of your head with his eyes wide and unblinking. He doesn’t know how to comfort, and can only mimic you when you comfort him. In an attempt to comfort you, he’ll hold you and apologize, his words genuine as he hadn’t meant to make you cry. You had gone through something rather traumatic and while you were still touched by another, it wasn’t something that he could blame you for.

While holding you, he has to remind himself that you didn’t want someone else to touch you. You still came to him when you walked into the hideout rather than telling everybody what had happened. You rushed into his arms and had even apologized- for not replying to him or for letting a hero touch you, he isn’t sure- and you were still here with him, accepting his apology and crying into his arms. He holds you, reminding himself that you still chose him in the end. That’s able to make him feel a bit more secure.

However, no matter what you say to him, he knows that it was his fault in the end. He’s the one who had let you go out. He hadn’t even allowed for him or for another member of the League to watch over you due to your pestering. You had gotten hurt because of his own negligence. He’ll have you take a shower, get rid of the scent of the person- the people- who had touched you. He’s tempted to decay the clothes, but you pull them close to your bare body, shaking your head and tell him that you can wash them. You can drown them in perfume and anything else until it’s only your scent that remains. He lets you keep the clothes, already biting his nails as to how to decay them without arising suspicion. When you come out of the shower, he pulls you close, his hands against your head and back, and he tells you that it’s better if you don’t go out for a while.

You’re safe, and that’s what matters but you still ran the risk of getting hurt. Tomura can’t let that happen to you, he won’t allow it. Seeing you cry- whether by his fault or that of others- is something that makes his mind scream, thoughts that rage and his vision red. You were hurt- the bruise on your skin, a dark purple with red scabbing taking over- and you came home terrified. You came to him terrified. He keeps you with him, has a hand lingering too close to your neck when he tells you that it’s best for you to rest with him for a while. At least until the man who hurt you is gone- for good, of course. You could have been hurt- badly- and you need to understand that when he keeps you locked in his room, it’s for your own safety. He’ll brush away a piece of stray hair, lean and peck the corner of your lips and will tell you that you understand, because of course you do- you’re smart and you’ll listen to him. After all, he knows best.

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