Demon Summoning for Idiots [BNHA x female reader]

Shigaraki

You hold the container of bleach up, trying to decide if it's red enough. If you open it, it'll ruin your floorboards for sure. You decide to just toss the thing into the center of the summoning circle unopened, because this apartment is rented, and they still have your deposit.

You're not even sure why you bought the book, but your friend insisted that you both try it, so here you are, half heartedly scrawling a wobbly circle in the middle of your living room and scrounging around for a blood substitute. She's probably already tried it, but she's been surprisingly cagey when you ask her about it, repeating over and over that you "try it yourself".

You regret it already, but you've made a mess of the floor as it is (red spray paint really wasn't the best idea), so you might as well see it through. You hold the book up to some random page, eyeball the spell, and chant whatever crap is printed on it.

Absolutely nothing happens. You're couldn't be less surprised. You wait a few seconds more, then reach over to start cleaning up.

The moment you touch it, the bleach bottle cracks, sending liquid spraying everywhere, and where it lands you can actually see your floor and walls corroding. You don't remember buying corrosive chemicals. You don't remember the bleach being that shade of dark red. You may have made a huge mistake.

The bottle shatters completely, even though you clearly remember it being made of soft plastic, and you turn away before any of what is apparently suddenly acid gets onto your skin.

When you turn back, you wish you hadn't.

"Where am I?" it says.

You try to figure out how many minutes you have left before it murders you.

---

It doesn't murder you. Truly something to be thankful for. It does, however, wear like ten fucking hands, literal goddamn zombie hands, and you don't know where to look when you talk to it.

You sit it down on the couch, because it's been standing in the middle of the room for five minutes. You've never seen a face-hand look so confused.

It sits and proceeds to do absolutely nothing. You wonder if you summoned an android by mistake.

"Do you need anything?" you ask, hoping it doesn't say "souls". Or "flesh".

It shrugs.

"What are the hands for?" you say.

It looks down at them. "I don't know."

"Then," you say, desperately trying to keep this one-sided conversation alive. "What's your name?"

The hand-face looks in your direction.

"I don't remember."

---

It doesn't remember.

The both of you sit in silence for a long, long time. You look at the scorched floorboards and wonder how much it is to get them replaced. It looks at... nothing, probably. What can you see with a hand covering your face?

Ten more minutes pass before you decide to ask. "Can you take off the hands?"

It considers, and peels them off carefully. So it can. Then you get a look at his face and decide to pick up extra skin cream when you get the chance.

You continue to sit. More silence. You're definitely hungry by now. He's got to be, too, but he just sits there, looking perfectly happy to starve to death if you gave him the chance.

You pick up the phone. "Want food?"

It's so slight you almost miss it, but you're pretty sure that's a nod. So. Food.