a little annihilation - shigaraki x reader

angel i couldn't kill

┏━━━━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━━━━┓

hop up on a cloud and watch the world decay
ana on my shoulders and we'll laugh away

┗━━━━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━━━━┛

The attack comes from out of nowhere that very next spring—not to the heroes, the ones with the answers. They knew all along who was in danger and who wasn't, who needed to evacuate and who didn't. In an attempt at discretion and getting the upper hand, the heroes let the people in your neighborhood be trampled by a giant fucking monster—and not the metaphorical kind.

Funny how using people as a means to an end is only morally acceptable when it's government-sanctioned. For the greater good.

The evacuation warning comes at ten in the morning. There's directions, but no heroes or police to guide anyone. They're all too busy with the nice neighborhoods. All the "warning" does is cause a panic, your neighbors pushing and shoving each other aside, cars backed up in traffic jams.

Looking down at the pandemonium from the safety of your window, you decide to sit pretty—just until you're sure you won't be trampled the second you step outside. Though, that doesn't seem to be happening any time soon.

With a sigh, you lean further into your couch and your fingers automatically move to turn on the news. You huff quietly to yourself, stretch your arm out until it's as far as it can be from your body. You'd know who's behind this even without the news spelling it out like you're stupid. He's the only real villain left standing, anyways.

Your nails carve their shape into the flesh of your palms. Just until it stops hurting.

The sweaty little reporter, clearly terrified to be so close to the action, informs you that this whole thing was a raid, planned well in advance. Somehow, the heroes figured out where the villains were hiding. They figured out what their operation looks like, how the group's organized, where their leader is. Feeling a little sick, you wonder if they'll catch him this time. Your life would have been normal, had they caught him before. Whose life will be uprooted this time?

There's a rumbling in the distance. You'd felt it a few minutes ago, when it was subtle, until suddenly it becomes overwhelming, like an earthquake right outside your apartment. You're thrown over couch by the force, head snapping up just in time to watch a brown blur zoom past. In slow motion, you think you can make out figures on top of it. None of them are familiar (apart from having seen them on TV).

None of them are Tomura.

The next thing you see is a thick, red blood splatter against your window before the beast is gone.

Just as you begin to think you're lucky that your windows are still intact (and that you hadn't yet left the building...), the glass shatters, raining across your living room. You have to curl up to avoid—well, dying, probably. Seconds pass before you're able to convince yourself to uncurl your arms from over your head.

You push yourself to stand, inhaling slow but shaky. Glass crunches beneath your boots as your legs threaten to give out. You push yourself forward, adrenaline pumping through your veins, as you reach your door. Your feet carry you downstairs and outside where the streets have been overrun by rivers of red, red blood. It's bright, too—fresh.

Swallowing thickly, you press your lips firmly against one another, as if opening your mouth will let your sanity fly right out. Right, because that's a sane thought. You keep telling yourself to keep moving, keep walking, repeating it in your mind like you're a soldier. Just get to the evacuation point. You have to—