TW: Gore, mild violence, hallucinations, stabbing and cutting (expect the unexpected!)
Denki woke up to a hazy room. He rubbed at his eyes, but the haze didn't fade. He sniffed at the air and didn't smell anything off, so he figured that the base wasn't on fire and guessed that it was just the early morning light filtering in through the gauzy curtains in the weirdest of ways.
He might have given it a bit more thought, but he was very quickly distracted.
He gasped on an inhale, almost choking on it. "Toshi! Nei! You're back! When did you guys get here?!" he asked, fumbling out of bed and toward his soulmates. "You should have woken me up! It's not like I have any hero patrols that I have to wake up early for or—"
Why didn't they wake him up?
Or at least crawl into bed with him instead of stand there in the corner creepily watching him as he slept?
"Hey. Is everything alright?" Denki asked quietly, suddenly worried, approaching more carefully now, finally feeling his body wake up and his reflexes kick in as his heartrate accelerated at the strangeness hanging in the atmosphere. "What—what's on your face? All over you! Is that blood?! Are you hurt?!"
Hitoshi looked over at Neito, eyes widening at the blonde's appearance like he was just noticing. "Oh, Nei," Hitoshi said. "Your face is a mess. Let me get that for you."
Then Hitoshi reached out, dug his fingernails into Neito's hairline, and started peeling Neito's face from his skull.
Denki stumbled back, inhaling a stuttering breath as he watched Neito smile. "Thanks for your help, Hitoshi," Neito said. The skin pulled from his nose, and his voice changed slightly to accommodate the facial trauma. "You're always looking out for me."
With a final tug, Hitoshi had Neito's limp face in his hands, and Neito sported a skull with various ligaments and muscles and bulging eyeballs instead of his usual, handsome face.
"Much better," Hitoshi praised, but Denki couldn't see how it was any better at all. Blood tipped the front edges of Neito's hair and dripped down his neck, staining his hero costume even worse than before. Somehow, though, the manic smile was still discernible as he looked Hitoshi up and down.
"Now, let's clean you up, babe," Neito said, reaching out for Hitoshi.
Hitoshi dropped Neito's face to the floor with a sickening splat, and Hitoshi dug his own fingernails into his own hairline as Neito started from his jawline and worked his way up as Denki continued to look on in horror.
He wasn't schizophrenic, goddammit, so he shouldn't be hallucinating, so it had to be a nightmare. He just had to wake up.
He took another step back but tripped on his discarded blankets and sheets, tripping and landing awkwardly on his arm, feeling the pain radiate through his torso and down through his wrist.
Not dreaming, but it sure as hell wasn't real.
So, if he wasn't schizophrenic, but he was hallucinating anyway…
His eyes looked around the rest of the room again, and once again he noted the slight haze lingering in the air above him.
Phantasm came rushing to the front of his consciousness so suddenly like starbursts behind closed eyes in a response to pain. Uretori, he corrected in his mind, looking back at the soulmates who had finished de-facing Hitoshi and were admiring the limp face held in Neito's hands like a rare artifact.
This was bad.
This was dangerous.
If others woke up during this and also were on bad trips, then people could get hurt. People could die. Who the hell knew what kind of traumas the League of Villains kept in the darkest trenches of their minds that the quirk Hallucinogenic Gas could bring forth?
He had to be quiet and hope that everyone else slept through this. He was lucky that his hallucination-soulmates chose the gore option rather than any jump scare tactics.
He watched as his hallucination soulmates approached him, looming over him. He sighed, as he hoisted himself up, ignoring the bloody hand offered to him by hallucination-Hitoshi.
He got a good look at his hallucination soulmates and sighed again.
"Well," he whispered to them, "it could be worse."
"How so?" Neito asked, whispering back to match Denki's volume.
Denki appreciated that very much. Considerate hallucinations, even during a bad trip.
"At least I get to see some version of you two, even if it's not the real thing," Denki said, looking the hallucinations up and down. He swallowed. "And honestly, as far as bad trips go? Ten out of ten! Highly recommend," he praised, his voice just the tiniest bit shaky as he regained his bearings. "You two look hot all insane and ripped up like this. Reminds me of what I thought Tartarus inmates might be like before I actually met them myself."
"You would look hot like this, too," Neito said.
Hitoshi nodded in agreement, the muscles on his exposed face twitching grotesquely, making Denki aware that he was smiling, and not in a kind way.
Both hallucinations reached out, ready to tear Denki's face right off of him.
Denki watched, amused, as their hands passed right through his skin. Their pouts were infinitely more disturbing when not behind their handsome faces, and yet, still oddly effective.
Not effective enough for Denki to offer to peel his face off for them, though.
"Wait!" Denki whispered in horror. "Can I even say that?! We haven't discussed this scenario! Am I allowed to flirt with the hallucination versions of my soulmates? Is that—what are the rules?!"
"I talked to them," hallucination-Hitoshi said. "They said it's fine."
"Liar!" Denki accused immediately, aghast. He quietly stormed over to the door, ripping it open, and angrily (but quietly) made his way to Uretori's room. "The audacity of you to lie to me about talking to the real version of yourself…" Denki muttered in dismay as he stalked the hallway, his hallucinations hot on his heels unbothered—no! Not just unbothered but amused at Denki's antics.
"I basically am him, though," hallucination-Hitoshi argued. "The way you observe everyone as it is, let alone the way you watch us. The way you've watched us for years," Hitoshi drawled. Denki's footsteps didn't falter, but it took all of his willpower. "I know what he would say, and he would be flattered."
How could he not flirt with them when they are so similar? When they are being taken from his the images of his mind and reconstructed so perfectly (with a hint of horror, so what? Stranger things have happened) right in front of him?
"Maybe if you put your faces back on," Denki sassed, that being the only retort to come to mind.
Hallucination-Hitoshi and hallucination-Neito stopped in their tracks, looked at each other, shrugged, and started walking back the way they came. Denki didn't bother waiting for them. They were figments of his overreactive quirk-affected imagination; they would find him easily.
On second thought…
"Make sure you at least wash them off before putting them back on," he whisper-yelled down the hallway at the hallucinations' retreating backs, shuddering at the thought of the dust and grime on the floor being trapped in the delicate anatomy of their beautiful faces.
Hallucination-Hitoshi waved his hand back at him without turning around. Neither hallucination slowed down. From this angle, he could have mistaken them for the real deal.
Good thing he knew better.
Denki knocked on Uretori's door, and whispered the announcement of who was at the door with a warning that he was coming in. After a two second pause of no objection, he turned the handle and pushed the door in, slipping inside and closing the door shut behind him again.
Isozan was already there, eyes wide and frantic, directly going against the calm demeanor of his low, steady voice and the hand that threaded through Uretori's hair as she sobbed into his chest.
"Hi," Denki greeted softly. "What can I do to help?"
Isozan held out a hand warily, and Denki took the few steps forward to make the physical contact. Isozan huffed out a breath of relief, but his face still looked pained.
"Sorry you didn't sleep through this, Denki."
"No need to apologize. Pro Hero Deku would be salivating at the chance to experience this, I'm sure," Denki conversed easily, reaching out to touch Uretori briefly, too, to show that he was not something she was hallucinating.
The easy conversation and having someone else—someone new—there during an episode helped clear Uretori's throat enough for her to croakily ask if he managed to avoid the hallucinations this time.
"No. Looks like I'm in just as deep as you two," he said, noting their blown pupils that were even larger than the dimmed room could account for.
"Good trip?" Uretori asked, looking around the room slowly, eyes jumping from corner to corner randomly, seeing things that Denki could not.
"Uh…" Denki hesitated. "I woke up to Hitoshi and Neito," Denki settled on.
Isozan nodded, relieved, glad that Uretori had one less thing to feel guilty about.
When Hitoshi and Neito popped up into the room, to Denki's left, he glanced over at them. He had to do a double take and rolled his eyes in exasperation, but before he could say anything, Uretori sobbed again, flinching away from where Hitoshi and Neito had appeared, her eyes focusing right on them.
She dared to glance away from them for a second to look at Denki in despair. "I'm so sorry."
"It's nothing," Denki assured, though he knew it would take more convincing than that, and hoped a distraction might work better in the meantime. "You can see other people's hallucinations?"
"That's why she never wants to be under the influence of her own quirk," Isozan said. "If anyone has a bad trip, she sees it all."
"It's nothing compared to what I'm doing to you," Uretori dismissed, choking back a sob as wiped harshly at her face. "It's a deserved side effect."
"Well, you're in for some entertainment, at least," Denki said. "These two decided to flirt with me after peeling their faces off," he explained, throwing his head in their direction for Isozan's benefit who could not see the hallucination heroes.
Uretori dared a glance over at them as Denki took another look.
They put their faces back on, all right. But hallucination-Hitoshi was wearing Neito's and hallucination-Neito was wearing Hitoshi's. Blood still coated their costumes from the face-peeling session earlier. Hallucination-Neito wiggled his fingers at Denki, sending a wink in his direction.
Uretori's jaw dropped, her tears forgotten as her brow furrowed.
"They are flirting with you," she said, amazed.
There was a thud and a grunt from the next room over, scrambling footsteps, and all three were on their feet, running over to assist.
Hawks, Dabi, and Shigaraki stood in the middle of the room, backs all together facing outwards toward unseen opponents. Hawks had a long, sharp feather in each hand, completely silent and still as he waited. Dabi was alit with blue flames, holding his hands out, swearing under his breath. Shigaraki was peeling his second glove off when the three entered the room, reaching forward with steely eyes.
"Fuck," Shigaraki said, eyes widening when his hand went right through his target instead of landing true. He glanced at Uretori and company outlined in the dim, flickering light that was cast off from Dabi's flames and swore again. "Stop," he commanded quietly, reaching out to either side of him, making sure to not put all of his fingers down when he made contact. "We're hallucinating."
"So," Dabi said, snuffing his flames out, "this is what the bad trip feels like." His eyes still wandered around the room, distrustful of whatever he was seeing.
Uretori's eyes spilled over again as she took in the new horrors in the room, choking back a renewed sob as she apologized. They heard the distress in her voice, registered that it was more than it probably should have been.
"Can you—can you see what we're seeing?" Hawks asked, finally stepping out of the triangle formation he had formed as he stepped toward Uretori.
She nodded.
"Hey," he soothed with a trill as he crowded her, "it's fine. You're so brave, yeah? We each see our own shit, but you have to see everybody's. No wonder you avoid your own quirk," he said, gently patting her hair.
She leaned forward into his chest as she cried, Isozan staying close to rub comforting circles on her back, looking gratefully over her shoulder at the understanding people in the room who could have screamed and yelled and demanded immediate solutions that she couldn't offer.
"We've been breached!" Twice shouted, barreling into the hallway from his own room. "We're not going down without a fight! We surrender! You'll never take me alive, coppers! Spinner is down the hall; take him instead!"
"So much for anyone sleeping through this," Denki muttered under his breath as they all rushed to try to convince Twice that he was hallucinating and that everything was fine.
"Hallucinating? Oh, yeah. Okay. That makes sense."
Well, that was easy.
Spinner rushed out of his room, huffing with his weapon held at the ready. Uretori ducked down, eyes wide as she watched the hallucination fly along the ceiling. "The fuck you offering me up for? I don't want to be a sacrifice for the eagle king!"
"You're hallucinating!" everyone chorused.
"I was offering you to the police!" Twice corrected, offended, pointing down the hallway where his hallucinated horde of police officers waited. "I'd never offer you to the eagle king, bestie. I'm not a monster."
Toga groggily came out of her room, rubbing at her eyes. "I've either developed a new quirk where I can see ghosts of dead people, or I'm hallucinating."
"Hallucinating," Uretori said, offering a sad smile.
Toga sighed, relieved. "Good. I don't want those bitches in my life." She turned around back toward her room. "You hear that?! You're still dead to me, bitches! A few hours, and poof! You're gone! How's it feel to be irrelevant?!" She cackled madly.
"Is everyone okay?" Shigaraki asked, taking stock of the group once Mr. Compress and Kurogiri silently joined the group, not making much fanfare about whatever they might have been witnessing.
Isozan nudged Uretori.
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Denki's were the worst because they were personal. They involved his soulmates."
All eyes were on Denki, including Uretori's apologetic ones. He smiled at her reassuringly.
Denki shrugged at the group, looking over to where his hallucinations still followed. "I got over it pretty quickly once I figured out what was going on. At this point, any way that I can see my soulmates is great. I just really need to call the real ones to figure out if it's against the rules to flirt with their hallucination doubles."
Isozan laughed.
Uretori looked back at him, stunned.
When had he ever laughed when the visions of their starving foster siblings were moping in the corners of the room? It usually took him weeks to bounce back.
"They're flirting with you?" Mr. Compress asked.
"Yeah. Hitoshi said that he talked to my real soulmates and they said it was fine," Denki said, laughing. "Can you believe that?! Lied right to my face!"
"Did not," hallucination-Hitoshi pouted.
"You did, too," Denki snapped back, rolling his eyes. "It's not possible for you to talk to the real ones. You just want me to flirt back."
When Denki looked back at the villains, they were all looking at him with weird expressions on their faces. Before he could say anything, they all turned to their own hallucinations and started yelling.
"Why the fuck can't you be chill like Denki's hallucination? Huh? You piece of shit motherfucker—!"
"I want someone pretty to flirt with! Not a bunch of dead ghosts! Ugh! So gross! You're disgusting! You—"
"I mean, you can use your handcuffs on me if you're also going to flirt with me. Hell, I'll still throw in Spinner for good measure."
"I'm going to fry your eggs and shove them down Twice's throat for offering me up first! Come back here!"
"Guys! Guys!" Denki chided, trying to get everyone's attention. When he finally succeeded, he amended, "it's not like they're just regular old Hitoshi and Neito chilling out! They did peel each other's faces off, first!"
"Denki… what?!"
"They put them back on!" Denki defended. "Well, Hitoshi put on Neito's and Neito put on Hitoshi's but… you know…" he trailed off, looking at the hallucinations in question. "It really doesn't look all that bad."
Dabi nodded thoughtfully for a second. "I'm telling Hitoshi and Neito that you're flirting with their disfigured hallucination versions."
Denki gasped. Then smiled. "Hallucination-Hitoshi says they already know!"
Dabi sputtered. "Didn't we all just agree that there's no way that they could have asked—?"
"Well, I'm convinced, now," Denki said with a sense of finality.
Dabi grumbled. "Only because it gives you a free pass."
"What?" Denki shouted. "I can't hear you over my hallucination-soulmates' flirtatious advances!"
Denki yelped as he barely dodged Dabi's hand as he reached for him, laughing as he took off down the hallway.
What better way to spend 3:00 a.m. at the base of the infamous League of Villains?
His time with Izuku and Shouto and the hallucinations had given him an idea on how to tackle the skepticism circulating on TikTok about whether he was a willing participant or a hostage to the League.
"So, here's my idea," Denki said before explaining his idea to the villains in the morning after everyone had gone back to bed and woken up again naturally.
"That's a great idea!" Toga squealed. "Oh, but it would be even better if—! Have you ever stabbed anyone before?"
"What?" Denki asked, dumbfounded.
And then Toga explained her idea.
And then Toga taught Denki how to stab effectively.
And then it was game on.
The real Denki was mixed in with clone Denkis so graciously provided by Twice. Every Denki was dressed differently. One was dressed as Chargebolt. One was dressed as Dabi. One as Toga. One as Shigaraki. One as Twice. One as Mr. Compress. One as Spinner.
All of them were giddy with excitement as they posted the duet to TikTok, watching the views and comments climb even quicker than they imagined. Their excitement was contagious to the actual villains that surrounded them, staying out of view of the camera, but watching as the Denkis interacted with one another, waiting for the show to start.
They had posted a duet to the duet that Uravity had posted of the original from back in UA, all of the Denkis fitting into the frame to dance wearing the different outfits as the music blared. A message promising to go live an hour after the video was posted was flashing at the bottom of the screen.
And go live they did.
It was chaos right from the start, all of the Denkis rushing forward to say hello and start before they all huddled and decided that Chargebolt-Denki should be the one to take the lead by the phone and read the chat to everyone else.
"Welcome to the Chargebolt Guessing Game, League of Villains Edition!" Chargebolt-Denki declared. "The rules are simple! All you have to do is guess which one of us is the real Kaminari Denki! Easy right? Well, we don't think so!"
The chat filled with different guesses right off the bat as Chargebolt-Denki's eyes skimmed over the messages, laughing at the enthusiasm of the viewers. The number of the viewers in the corner continued to rise.
" 13 says that the real Chargebolt probably is not here in front of the screen," Chargebolt-Denki read.
He pouted directly at the camera. "I'm right here!" he insisted in a whine. "I thought you guys said you could tell! Some fans you are!"
He leaned forward, his face smoothing out as he read aloud once again, "the real Chargebolt is the one dressed as Chargebolt. You just gave yourself away."
As soon as the last word left his mouth, a knife appeared at his throat from behind him and didn't hesitate to slice right through him, making him dissolve into a pile of lumpy mud. Once Chargebolt-Denki was out of the way of the camera, the rest of the Denkis were in full display and shown staring down at the puddle of dispatched clone in dismay.
"If whoever is in charge of chat is next to die, then not it," Twice-Denki screeched, touching his index finger to the tip of his nose through the mask.
A chorus of "not its" were shouted and Shigaraki-Denki ended up being shoved forward to take over phone responsibilities.
As he took his spot, the viewers could hear him muttering, "I take you in, give you a place to stay rent-free, feed you—"
"I cook for you all the time, you ass!" Dabi-Denki argued.
"Feed you," Shigaraki-Denki insisted. Various muffled laughter could be heard from the actual villains off-screen at the accuracy and hilarity of the banter between the Denkis. "And this is the thanks I get?" He turned his eyes to the chat and immediately started cackling. "Looks like they are upset that we didn't give them a warning."
"Oh, but I don't think the clone would have appreciated a warning," Toga-Denki mused, biting his lip while tapping the point of the knife against his cheek in thought.
"Well, I'd like one if they are dumb enough to choose me," Spinner-Denki declared. He reached for the handle of his sword, grasped it for a moment as he eyed Toga-Denki wearily, and then allowed his hand to fall back to his side as Toga-Denki's attention skimmed right over him. He sighed in relief, seeming to sag under the weight of it.
"Ingenium thinks that it's highly impressive that Chargebolt can fit in seamlessly and also partially take on the personality of one of the villains. Oh, and also props to you, Twice."
"Thanks!" Twice-Denki chirped, leaping forward to be center screen.
"No, the real Twice," Shigaraki-Denki corrected sharply, pointing off-screen, "for providing the clones and the other personalities to fill in the gaps."
"Oh." Twice-Denki deflated.
"But since I'm the real Denki and you're one of Twice's clones, I guess that means you by extension," Shigaraki-Denki said.
"What?! No!" Twice-Denki argued immediately. "I'm the real Denki!"
"Why would I ever pass up the opportunity to wear Shigaraki's clothes?" Shigaraki-Denki asked.
"Why would he—I—shit!" Twice-Denki exclaimed. "You've got me all confused. Just kill me now!"
Shigaraki-Denki turned to the screen. "Uravity is telling everyone that they should narrow down who is definitely not the real Chargebolt so that they aren't calling out the real one to get stabbed by accident." Shigaraki-Denki nodded appreciatively. "Smart strategy. So, what's the verdict? Are we stabbing the Twice one?"
Twice-Denki made a distressed noise and flailed his arms at the camera as if to beg for mercy.
Shigaraki-Denki ducked his head to look closer at the screen, narrowing his eyes in disbelief at what he was reading. "Ingenium says we shouldn't stab anyone…" He huffed out a breath before responding, "let's talk about that later. I happen to remember an alleyway in Hosu where we can meet… or you can just call me, and I'll put you on speaker."
Shigaraki-Denki read the screen, eyes widening. "Ingenium says that both Twice and Shigaraki are imposters and to kill them both—?!"
Toga-Denki made quick work of them both, barely able to contain his manic giggles from escaping from behind his lips, hands tightly clasped to his mouth with the blade grazing his cheek, completely unbothered.
Spinner-Denki's hand was on the hilt of his sword once again, but once again he didn't draw it. "Keeping me on edge here, Denki."
"You're safe until they say you aren't, Denki," Toga-Denki said with a wink.
"Unless they say you aren't, first," Spinner-Denki argued, tightening his grip on the hilt threateningly.
Toga-Denki laughed, delighted and unbothered.
Compress-Denki moved forward to take over the phone.
"The viewers are delightfully divided on if this is traumatic or entertaining," Compress-Denki announced with a nod. "And they want to know what the Dabi of the group is doing."
The Denkis looked over at Dabi-Denki, who was picking up the filth-soaked jacket that was once encasing Shigaraki-Denki, clutching it tightly to his chest, and holding back tears.
"Okay, accurate," the real Dabi's voice was heard from off-screen.
"I'm a fake, too!" Dabi-Denki wailed toward the camera, then turned toward Toga-Denki. "I can't go on! Please, Denki! Just—"
"Oh," Toga-Denki practically whimpered. "I want to. I want to, so bad. But it's not up to me," she said, looking over at Compress-Denki.
Compress-Denki's eyes skimmed the chat and reported, "they are discussing if the real Chargebolt would be so risky as to actually declare himself as a fake. They seem divided."
That was enough for Toga-Denki, it seemed.
"What the hell!" Spinner-Denki yelled as the muck that used to be Dabi-Denki spilled over his boot before he could leap away.
Toga-Denki shrugged. "The chat was divided, so I thought Denki should be divided, too."
"Oh, dear," Compress-Denki managed to say. Shaking his head, he turned back to the screen. "Where are Phantom Thief and Mindjack? I should think that they would discern the real one accurately."
Compress-Denki looked at the screen and sighed. "Well, now they think that I'm the real Denki because I asked about known associates."
"Mask," Spinner-Denki demanded, and Compress-Denki handed it over quickly before Toga-Denki was there, immediately plunging the blade into the junction of his neck for him to dissolve to the floor.
"If we let his mask break, we'd all be massacred for real," Spinner-Denki stage whispered to the camera.
A gloved hand entered the screen to accept the unharmed mask, and Mr. Compress's voice was heard. "I wouldn't massacre you. Though, I'm not above a little maiming."
Spinner-Denki and Toga-Denki paled as they looked at each other, breathing out a sigh of relief when they deemed that he had gotten far enough away that his mask was no longer in harm's way.
Then it was like the Spiderman meme all over again because Toga-Denki pointed at Spinner-Denki who pointed back at Toga-Denki.
"Fight to the death!" Toga-Denki declared, eyes wide, drawing his knife in a threatening gesture across his throat.
"Or we let the viewers decide, like the whole point of the game," Spinner-Denki said, side-eyeing Toga-Denki as he made his way over to the phone to check the chat. "They want to hear both our sides."
"I'm obviously the real Denki because I lasted so long without being turned into muck," Toga-Denki said.
"So did I," Spinner-Denki said. "And I didn't go around stabbing everyone else!" He glanced at the chat. "And they seem to agree with me! So, ha! Take that, you imposter! Oh…" He laughed. "They also think that the real you would never wear a dress, and since Toga's costume consists of a dress…" Spinner-Denki laughed again. "And now they're catching on that I said 'the real you.' Thanks for playing, everyone! It's been fun!"
Spinner-Denki dissolved as Twice recalled his quirk as the real Toga came flying into frame, wearing a duplicate costume so that she and Denki matched. They smiled and waved at the camera before leaning in to read the chat, not surprised to see the disbelief that Toga-Denki was the real Denki.
Denki handed Toga the knife and his arm. She made a careful cut and drank from his arm directly, making direct eye contact with the camera as she turned into Denki. Then, right before the viewers' eyes, there were two Denkis once again, both dressed in Toga's signature villain attire.
"Surprise!" Denki yelled, smiling.
The chat was still and silent for 30 seconds.
Then the chat was filled so quickly with so many comments that Denki and Toga couldn't read them all fast enough.
"Heroes… or well, just people in general," Denki corrected himself as he spoke to the camera, answering a common question he saw pop up, "have many talents that might not be visible or obvious or even commonly utilized. You wouldn't guess from your interactions with me on the street or seeing me on television that I would be capable of acting so well like someone else. And, honestly, I wasn't the first time. You can ask Full Throttle!" Denki said, laughing. "It just takes practice and hard work."
"And spending hours and hours with the same few people," Toga added helpfully.
Denki laughed. "And that," he agreed, sending a smile to her and then past her to the other villains sitting out of view of the camera.
"It was the safest if I was the one with the knife so there was no way for me to accidentally be stabbed. If anyone had guessed correctly, then we would have just revealed that they were right by having Toga come on screen and transform into me," Denki said, answering another common question. "So, it made the most sense for me to disguise myself as Toga because it would make sense for her to be the one to have the knife and stab everyone."
"Now, I have a question for you in the chat," Denki said, leaning closer. "Is there anyone from the Hero Public Safety Commission watching?"
After a minute, there was an affirmative response.
Denki took a calming breath and blinked slowly before asking, "where are my boyfriends?"
A safehouse.
Denki's brow furrowed. "Why would they be in a safehouse? That doesn't make any sense."
They requested it after seeing that you went with the LOV willingly. They don't love you anymore, and they don't feel safe with you out there, free from facing consequences for your actions.
Denki smiled, leaning back.
Seeing the show you put on just now, they are reassured that they've made the right decision.
Denki hummed, his tongue running across his teeth as he read the challenge in the words.
He was going to have so much fun with this.
"Okay."
OK?
Denki ended the live stream.
"Are you okay?" Dabi asked, hesitantly approaching.
"I'm fine," Denki said, waving him off. "I checked in earlier, and wherever they are, they're fine. It's not a damn safehouse, but they're fine for now."
Denki reached over and plucked the phone off of the stand, noticing that he already had another new comment on the previous TikTok that he posted announcing the live stream that he just ended. He clicked on it, fully expecting someone to be expressing disappointment that they missed it, only to nearly drop his phone.
He screamed.
The villains all tensed, ready to fly into action. And do what—they had no idea.
"What?!" they asked.
"The fucking HPSC locked Hitoshi and Neito up in a mental hospital under a mandatory 72-hour hold!" Denki wailed. He took a deep breath to really put his emotions into it as he wailed out loud and long, "without me!"
A/N: OCs in this chapter:
Omoto Isozan – Quirk: Full Throttle
Omoto Uretori (aka Phantasm) – Quirk: Hallucinogenic Gas