chained : yan ! bnha + kny x kny ! reader

twenty-four , thoughts

Y/n collapsed on their plush bed. Well, it was plush for their standards. The best sleep they got in their world was at the wisteria houses.

In reality, the bed was average, if not slightly sub-par. Not that any of that mattered to the half demon. What mattered now was Douma. His coming meant something. They had to figure out what led him here, and stop it.

If not, they feared that this world- this utopia- would be ravaged just as their own world had. If they didn't stop more demons from appearing, the weak would die.

Rengoku's voice rang softly in Y/n's ears, reminding them of their promise. To always protect those in need. They would protect the people of this world for as long as they were there. They would keep Douma at bay, stalling him until they both were returned to their own world.

If not, they feared the worst would come.

Their eyes drifted to the red feather on their nightstand, then to their bedroom door. Just outside of it, they could feel All Might sitting on the living room couch half awake.

Heroes... Y/n wondered if they truly were any good. Hero culture, as they'd witnessed with Izuku, shuns the quirkless, and despises anyone outside of the norm.

It puts a tight lid on everything to do with quirks, only those with hero licenses can use them. That, Y/n assumes, is for two reasons: to create a certain idolization for those that can use them, and to create a false equality among those with and those without quirks.

It wasn't anything like that in Y/n's world.

There was no culture around demon slayers, no society to shun non-slayers. Only one to shun the slayers themself.

People didn't- or more so they couldn't- become demon slayers for fame and money because, well, demon slayers didn't have fame and money. People slayed demons because they wanted to, they became slayers out of a sense of justice and duty, not money.

Yet, thinking more about the second point, Y/n wondered if it really made a difference whether or not someone was doing something out of the goodness of their heart or for money. If it was still being done, it doesn't matter, does it?

Perhaps Y/n thought like that because they were their world's equivalent of someone who did it for money and fame. They did not care for the people killed by demons, only that killing the demon would be entertaining. While heroes did it for money, Y/n did it because they were bored.

Tearing their gaze away from the door, Y/n brought it back to Hawks' feather. It's red hue reminded them of someone's eyes, yet they couldn't seem to recall who. Perhaps, if it was a darker crimson, Y/n could mistake it for being soak in blood.

Blood.

The world sent shivers through Y/n's spine in ways they didn't think anything could. They hated that. It had never happened before, not like that, anyways. They clutched their stomach. Being half-demon, they knew what it meant for them.

They had always been able to pass as a human. They looked and acted like one. So, craving something demonic was new for them.

Soon after, Y/n went to sleep, tossing and turning all night long.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE
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Short chap! Next one will probably be start/right before USJ.