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sweet-honey-tears · 5 months

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Dance

Greek god Shinso x Female Reader

SUPRISE! I wrote this in one day 👁👄👁 please like it. I was gonna do yandere but that didn't happen… I hope you enjoy🤍🖤 I tried to proof read- this was about three pages 💥👄💥

Other Greek god stuff: these are old so they may be crap Kirhsima and Bakugou as gods Yandere Kiribaku gods saving the reader from sacrifice

Shinso watched your feet move to the rhythm, your body turning like water around a rock. Moving smoothly as your skirt decorated with coins sang with your movements. Your face held a smile but a drop of confidence in every movement you took. You were smiling but focused. Shinso smirked as you brought out the red fans, twirling them in the wrist to symbolize the death of an enemy. Shinso peered over at Bakugou and Kirishima, the two gods seeming pleased. Bakugou gave a slight grin as he watched the pain trace your brows as you twisted your body to show the havoc the god of war could have on the person he deemed worthy of his wrath. Kirishima seemed happy at your recognition of the brotherhood he represented, grabbing onto your fellow dancer's hand to show union among soldiers.

Shinso, unlike many other gods, he didn't have a dance. A temple, yes, but no accurate recognition within the arts. Regardless, Shinso was the god of the mind. That small thing that controlled everyone, he was the person who decided who had control over their bodies in fits of anger or even intelligence, yet he paled in recognition when standing next to the other gods. The people would say a second or even third tier, though most had the intelligence to never say such aloud.

When the ceremony ended, Shinso watched you quickly bolt away, the sweat on your tired body cooling with the autumn air.

"It's interesting." Kirishima's voice broke the silence among them. "Why do you think she left so quickly when she led the dance?" There was more curiosity in his voice than disdain or offense.

"Who cares? One extra leaving among them is nothing to worry about."

"Maybe they're tired," he heard Mina pipe up, the god of dance and fun. Bakugou grunted, and the purple-haired god could only roll his eyes. You were a favorite among the three gods; your diligence with dance and worship to them was clear as day. Mina also seemed extra excited the moment you started to practice, your laugh echoing the square as you and your fellow dancers practiced. Then Kirishima would lean over Mina's shoulder, smiling toothily at your loyalty to the sport and your dancers. Then Bakugou, who would laugh proudly at your determination and rather fire spirit. Picking up a discarded shoe and chucking it at a passerby who dared gripe about your routine.

Shinso enjoyed you for another reason: your dance. You made one for him, only him. You had come up with it when you were young, and Shinso watched you with fondness and a smile when you were a toddler tripping over your feet. He is only a few years old, then you are the time, and found your determination to an unworshipped god as himself endearing; maybe that is why you were one of the smartest of the village. Now you were an adult, unmarried but married to dance. Perfecting the dance for the mind god. Now, you scurried to the safety of your home, stripping yourself of the fiery red jewels and placing them delicately on the table. Shinso, invisible to your eyes, stood near the door, watching as you began the dance. Moving yourself to walk a circle, your body still exhausted from the dance you had just finished. Your hands moved up, and you drew shapes as you spun and moved. The bells on your wrist jingling.

You were smooth on your feet, and Shinso watched, struggling to not move, as you collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily. You had managed to finish the dance perfectly before your body gave. And Shinso, struggling to not catch you, watched. He couldn't make his presence known that clearly; it would go against nearly everything the gods stood for. So, instead of the next morning, as you left your tiny home for dance and worship, a slick cat sat a foot away from the door. Its bright purple eyes staring at you. Shinso watched with a smirk as you baby-talked the cat, scratching it behind the ears. When the feline meowed loudly, you froze before returning and giving a high pitch meow as well. Shinso watched, likely to your horror if you knew.

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Ten days had passed, and as usual, you danced for Shinso- the god of intelligence every night. And every day, a cat would greet you at the door, dropping flowers, small objects, or itself at your feet.

It was this one time, midnight, when you had a candle lit as you danced. That's when you were caught. To be honest, Shinso wasn't even sure what you did wrong. Human rules seemed so asinine and meaningless. But yet you stood barefoot on your wooden stage, the one you used to dance on daily. Around you, men with lances and spears stood, waiting with bated breath for permission to end your beautiful life. You were going to dance till you collapsed, where then you would be stabbed and bled to death for the villagers to see.

Shinso was unaware of where his fellow gods were, likely busy with other villages and wars, unaware of their favorite being told to dance till exhaustion and death.

The back of your mind screamed at you; had you taken the hand offered to you a year ago, you would have been free of this horrid nightmare. Just trapped without dance and movement, but not in this particular torment. Yet you knew that would have yielded a more slow and steady death than this, forced to stay home and never dance again.

Your eyes peering at your sisters of dance, some holding coldness, others pain, a few seeming happy at your demise. Snakes, you had thought, happy to watch their lead go so they could take your place.

"Dance for your god, Traitor."

There it was, Shinso's mind clicked; the town didn't worship him. They must refuse to. That alone was a death sentence for some gods, though Shinso wouldn't usually care. However, this was different. The flutes started, adapting to your rhythm as you showed your improvised dance for the god. It seemed to Shinso that the band that also played for you seemed sorrowful. Their music, while lively, seemed dead and soulless. One young man banging the wooden drums, the thick skin of cattle attached over the top, seemed to be quietly weeping.

You spun, the mocking purple dress they dressed you in floating with you, the broken coins on the dress colliding and jingling. Your face held a scared and happy look. Your smile tight, feet moving with a perfect rhythm. When it ended, the man from before shouted: "Again!" And so it began. The hair on the back of Shinso's neck rose, and his jaw tightened as you went again, your bare feet scrapping the rough wooden stage, causing what he imagined splinters and rips in your trained souls.

"Again!"

“Again," your sloppy movement led one man to jab his spear at you, barely missing your side. Roars of laughter ran through the ground. The drummer wept louder as your sister in dance screamed in dread.

"Enough!" He boomed. The world went silent; he couldn't stand to watch your decimation of him be turned more into the way of torture. You collapsed, legs shaking from exhaustion from completing this draining dance 5 times. Shinso had reached his limit; the other gods could rip him apart later for disregarding the rules. The village cared little for signs of his presence; that was made clear when the black cat looming and hissing was pushed aside. The purple-eyed feline hissed louder, only to be kicked. He gave them a warning, but they chose to disregard it. Shinso walked to the stairs, flipping his wrist at the guards who dared block his path. Their bodies snapped to boards, stiffly standing upright with their lances lying on the ground. Shinso walked to your crumbled form; even in pain, you managed to go to your knees. Head down to show respect. He could hear small sniffles and saw why when peering over your hunched form. Your heels, souls, everything was splattered with drops of blood and sharp pieces of wood. Anger rose in his throat. "you punished the favorite of the gods." He spoke slowly and calmly. Anger faltered heavily in his voice. "Mina. Kirishima and Bakugou will hear of this betrayal." He spoke, watching the crowd grow tense with fear and worry.

He could hear the quickening of your heartbeat and breathing. Slowly and surely, he picked your body up. Allowing you to struggle and break free if you wish, yet you didn't. Instead, you stayed in his hold, silently letting tears slip from your eyes as you gazed at the crowd that once upon a time adored you. "You will know their wrath, as well as mine, very soon." It was a promise, and the village soon broke out in chaos and fear as the deity, and you seemed to vanish.

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"They did WHAT?!" Bakugou screamed. Your bandaged form leaned further into Shinso's side, causing the god's heart to flutter slightly. Your feet were skillfully wrapped in bandages and dressed in fine silks. You watched the red-haired god grow increasingly irate, pacing around the room as he listened to Shinso. Mina sat on the counter with a sweet smile as she listened, though her grip on the marble counter led it to start cracking increasingly more. "They underestimate us. They must take our omens as nothing more than coincidences." Kirishima spoke. Mina hummed in agreement. Shisno didn't say anything; he knew they took their omens seriously, and by the way, Bakugou looked at Kirishima, he knew as well. Yet neither of them said anything. "Then we show them." She mused, a wicked grin stretching her lips. Shinso's hand rubbed your back, allowing you to hide further from him.

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Shinso watched you dance on the marble stage, your body moving like water once again. You dance every gob's recorded dance. Your body finding unlimited energy in its new goddess form.

You were a minor-minor goddess only worshipped by the remainder of your village. Specifically your sisters of dancers, the musicians, and a few townspeople who cried and wailed at your failed execution.

The cats, purple eyes, and various fur coats meowed and chirped at your dancing. Amused and interacted with the movements and tingling of bells and charms.

"Shinso!"

You called, your smile bright and happy as you finished the dance of sleep. You reached your hand out, the golden bells jingling. "Come dance!" You called, grabbing his arm and pulling him on the stage. He allowed you to, smiling lazily you both freely danced. The goddess of dance moved with the mind god. Dancing still, their audience grew tired and fell into a purring slumber.

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@bookishgalaxies

#bnha headcannons #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha writing #greek god au #mha au #bnha au #shinso x reader #bnha shinsou #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou headcanons #shinso hitoshi #mha shinsou #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinso x y/n #mha x female reader #bnha x fem!reader #fem!reader

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animetrashbox · 2 months

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Amidst Shadows and Blossoms

(A/n: Finally posting the prototype for this fanfic 3 months after my introduction. This is not the finalized first chapter. There are a lot of things I'd like to fix before I officially begin this series, however, I wanted to see how this would go. Bold first post I suppose.)

Deity!IzukuMidoriya x Fem!Reader

The warm flicker of candlelight casts elongated shadows across the golden crested lanterns strung from above you. You feel the warmth of the flames as a deliciously scented incense wafts up into your nose. Your eyes are closed as you kneel in prayer, sitting silently before the altar of The Seven. You concentrate on the serenity of the shrine, focusing on the words of thanks you have for the seven Deities as your breathing is consciously moderated. Almost annoyingly so.

Breathing in, and out. Inhale, Exhale. A silent prayer on your tongue.

All is quiet.

. . .

Too quiet.

Against your better judgement, you decide to ignore it. It’s probably nothi-

“(Y/N)!!!”

A yelp escapes you as a sudden weight against your back sends you forward onto your chest. Your limbs are spread flat beneath the perpetrator as your eyes snap open in surprise. Though it was quick to fade when you caught the bright eyes of-

“Komiko (L/n)! Get off of your sister! She’s in the middle of praying!” Charging in behind your sister; Komiko; storms your mother, her hand clamping down on your sister’s ear—who’s brimming with unchecked energy—and tugs her off of you. A yelp leaps from the young child’s throat, and yet she quickly brushes it off.

“(Y/n)! Please let me go to the village with you! I promise I can help! I really can!” Komiko begs, now upright as you dust yourself off from the rather rough contact.

You look up at your mother incredulously as she covers her face with an exasperated sigh, shaking her head.

“I can’t with her today, she refuses to listen to me.” Your mother mutters softly, massaging the bridge of her nose with vigor. You give her a sympathetic glance before facing your sister, your scarlet Hakama pooling around you.

“Komiko, after the way you’ve behaved for momma, I’m not sure it would be right to take you with me. Heavens, you shouldn’t even be here. You’ve disrupted the peace of the altar.” You pat her head softly as her bottom lip begins to tremble, pulling down into a pout. Despite that, she knows better than to argue back.

“But... I could use your help when cleaning up the Tojii Gates tomorrow morning...” You offer with a kind smile, tilting your head slightly.

Immediately, her expression lightens. “Really?! Can I?” You nod in response, snorting lightly at the rapid change in her attitude. The pools of tears in her eyes had all but disappeared as she lunged forward for another hug. This time, one you were prepared for.

You catch your mother’s gaze from behind her and she smiles fondly, a grateful look in her eyes. You admired her beauty in the warm candlelight. Despite the bags beneath her eyes, and the wrinkles that began to form around her mouth and forehead—ones she’d often pick at—didn’t deter her pretty smile and loving eyes. You considered yourself to be her number one supporter.

Your sister nuzzled into your arms, adorned with the velvety crème sleeves of your Hakama. She muttered incoherently into your bosom about how she’d help you before pulling away with a youthful grin. “I promise to do my best to help you!”

You smiled down at her, your forehead dropping to meet hers. “I know.”

At that, she slipped away from you, shuffling on her knees before rising. Komiko gives you a wave as she turns towards the arching wooden doorway at the entrance of the altar. “Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow! For now, I’m going to bed so the morning comes faster!” She cheers rather eagerly as she races away towards your Sha-ke.

To that, you let out a hearty laugh as your mother scoffs with a fond laugh, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Thank you for that, (Y/n).” She speaks softly, gazing towards your shrinking sister.

“It’s no problem, really. I understand-”

“No. Just take it. I don’t tell you how much I appreciate your help around here. I dunno’ if I could do as much as I do now without you around.” She sighs softly, looking towards you with a warm twinkle in her eye.

Your smile softens at her words—more tender than usual—as you find her side. Leaning against her as her temple presses down against yours.

“You do a lot too, y’know. I think we both need each other.” You reply, gazing off towards the sky that continues to darken with each minute. Dusk fading to dark as stars begin to spackle at it’s surface. The moon rises from the horizon, following the remaining purple from the sunset to the deep blue encapsulates the sky.

After your father passed away, life had gotten a lot rougher. Especially for your mother. Living as a widow was often pitied or ridiculed. Without a man to guide the family—your father—there was a short period of time where you had to wonder when your next meal might be; if you get one at all.

But you, your mother, and your sister endured that time of trial, and were able to get back on your feet when your mother inherited the role of the shrine’s Head Priestess. Earning the role after your father; the Head Kannushi; passed away from illness. She was able to put the shrine back together again thanks to the efforts of you and other families' contributions.

During that time, you and your—rather stubborn—mother grew incredibly close. She relied on you as her rock from your dad’s death, and you seemed to fulfil that role perfectly.

“What did I just say?” She snaps playfully, pinching your cheek.

“Sorry-! Sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

“AHT!” She tuts, raising her voice.

“I-...!” You begin to protest before sighing into her fingers. “...You’re welcome.” You grumble, evoking a laugh from her as she ruffles your hair with a smile.

The two of you relax against each other as you slowly slip into a comfortable silence, breathing deeply as you feel the warmth growing between your bodies. She keeps her hand in your hair, now dragging her fingers through it soothingly as you hummed in content at the gesture.

“Oh, by the way, what did Komiko mean about heading to the village?” You suddenly remember.

“Oh.” Your mother coos with a guilty tone beside you. “Well, um, you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Mom.” You cock an eyebrow up and she groans quietly before replying.

“I’m exhausted from all of the rituals and praying I’ve done today... So I was hoping I’d be able to send you to the village to buy some food.” She mutters with irritation—at being caught—in her voice. “Could you please-”

You pat her hand, cutting her off. “Yes mom. I’d be happy to.”

She sighs in relief. “Thanks kiddo.”

“I’m eighteen.” You grin fondly.

“Nuh-uh. Not to me. You’ll always be my kid.”

The village was a place of warmth, you’d always been enchanted by the red lanterns strung overhead; steams of delicious foods swirls between their paper glows. It’s a welcome change from spending the majority of your time praying and cleaning—and on good days—performing rituals. You get to go out and browse familiar shops and products, greet some family friends, etcetera.

However, the village during the nighttime was indisputably the prettiest. Warm red and orange lanterns flicker across slated stone pathways, illuminating storefronts and Yatai stands as the sellers of the evening began to open, while those who worked the morning began to close for the night. Your shoes scraped softly against the ground as you carried a wide rimmed basket.

You’d already gotten the basic fruits and veggies you’d needed, and were now headed towards the one family-run shop you could rely on for the best grains and protein.

The Shimura’s.

You approached the storefront hurriedly as you spotted it, your Hakama swishing languidly with each step as it clung to your body. Thanks to the late chore request, you didn’t have time to spare for changing. Especially if you wanted to make it to the village in time before the food stalls began to close.

Unfortunately, even with the extra time, you watched as the small wooden sign out-front listing products for the day being wiped clean. A familiar dark-headed lad knelt before it, cleaning it off.

“Wait, wait Tenko!” You pant as you jog up to his crouched figure. Immediately, a rough scoff could be heard from him as you receive a sharp glare from the man on the ground. His messy black curls frame his sharp navy-blue eyes, the skin of his eyelids was reddened with irritation and small rashes from scratching at them.

“Too late (L/n). Shop’s closing. Go home.” He replies gruffly, his hoarse voice firm as his gaze returns to the sign. Wiping it clean before scribbling a neat “closed” onto the board.

“What happened to friends helping out friends?” You grin softly at his attitude, a huff escaping you as you walk closer. “And I thought I told you it was okay to call me by my first name.” You chide, kneeling beside him.

“I don’t really care about what you prefer.” He retorts, standing up the moment you kneel beside him. You scoff slightly.

“Please, Tenko?” You plead, clasping your hands together. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“You said that last time.” He scowls, walking back behind the counter. You give a nervous laugh as you go to follow. When approaching the open gate, it suddenly snaps down, effectively blocking you off. So you follow him from across the counter instead.

“This time I really mean it.” You persist with an entreating smile. Leaning against the wooden counter as his back is to you.

“No, you don’t.”

“Okay, I don’t. But I do have some Ohagi with me.” You try, noticing the subtle—so subtle—stiffening of his movements before he quickly schools his reaction. You stop the knowing smirk that tries to find your lips.

But to your shock, he—without a response—just disappears into the back of the shop. You’re stunned into silence.

“Oh, damn it.” You grumble under your breath. He’d escaped, essentially. You gaze guiltily at the empty doorway before slinking back, turning away from the shop with a sigh of defeat. Your feet shuffle beneath you with embarrassment as you sling your basket over your shoulder.

“Where the hell are you going?”

You spin around, and there sits your exact order—which you didn’t happen to tell him—on the counter. He continues to glare at you as his hand rests atop a large, bagged fish beside a bag of rice and bread.

“You whine to me about needing your order tonight, and then when I go to get it for you, you just leave?” he asks sharply, as if it was obvious that these were his intentions the whole time. A bright grin of surprise finds your face.

“Thank you Tenko!” You beam, and he scoffs softly shaking his head.

“I was planning on just taking your money, but since you offered the Ohagi, I expect that too.” He folds his arms as you dig through your basket to find your yen, along with the warm box of pre-prepared Ohagi Balls.

“Of course.” You agree matter-of-factly. “I wouldn’t want to scam a friend.” You smile, chuckling softly.

“Shut up.”

“You didn’t deny that we’re friends~!” You coo with a teasing grin.

“Do you want me to kill you?”

It was a quiet walk back to the shrine, sticks and grass crunching beneath your feet. The moon is crested and iridescent as it casts pale blue light onto the foliage above your head. Your arms sag with the weight of the food you’d purchased as you trek back to the shrine, now coming into view.

You huff gratefully, ready for the sleep that awaits you. While you approach the first of the three Tojii gateways, it’s deep crimson shimmers in the moonlight; it’s pillars standing tall. As you go to walk through it however, you yelp as something tugs on your Hakama. Jumping before turning around with a grimace.

“Komiko? I thought you said you’d be in bed-“ You start, before being pulled even harder. This time, the force shocks you as you’re pulled down onto the dirt.

“Hey! Stop!” You growl, turning towards the force. Your fingers press into the coarse soil beneath your fingers. You were alone. A small sound of confusion escapes you, paired with a sense of disappointment.

You were kind of done for the night. You didn’t need anything else going wrong-

Suddenly, you were thrown back. Your elbow skidding against the dirt and taking the brunt of the attack. You shout out in pain, your eyes darting around as you glare at nothing.

“STOP! Whoever you are- does it look like I’m laughing?!” You yell, now officially passed off.

It’s then that you hear a deafening crack from above you, or now, rather, in front of you after being torn away. Your eyes shoot up to the Tojii gate, it’s pristine pillars suddenly filled with cracks.

“Those weren’t-“ You’re barely able to speak before they begin to shift.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you scramble from the ground. The gate groans at the change in balance as the cracked poles shift further, before crumbling away. Bringing the entire gate to the ground.

A puff of dust fans out of the fallen structure as you feel goosebumps crawl up your back. Your breathing irregular.

At your feet lay the debris of the religious barrier. Now shattered all too suddenly. You couldn’t find the strength in you to stand up. You’d been frozen to the ground in fear. As you stare at the remains with a broken understanding, you fail to notice the choir of people calling your name.

Priests and Priestesses rushed out of the shrine walls as they saw what was left of the gates. Many stared in shock as hands went to people’s mouths in astonishment. Murmurs from the people were hardly recognized by you.

And rightly so, this had never happened before.

You’re only snapped from your stupor when a familiar pair of arms wrap around you.

“(Y/n)! Lord, are you alright?!” Your mother was crouched before you. Searching you for any form of injury.

You could hear how quickly your heart was racing, a throbbing drumming in your ears and chest. Pain blossomed in your elbow as you clutched it tightly. Finally, you’re able to make eye contact.

“I- dunno’ what happened-…” You breathe out.

“That’s not what I asked. I can figure that out with my eyes. I need to know if you’re alright.” Her tone is serious as she holds you by the shoulders.

“Yeah, I should be alright.”

“Anything you need some medicine for?”

“I-I need to bandage up my elbow.” You lift it up or her to see, face pale and hands shaky. The robe had torn open at the elbow, revealing a jagged scuff beneath the seams of your sleeve.

“I’ll clean that up for you, and I’ll make sure to get your robe sewn up. For now, I need you to stay out here. Make sure the children stay in bed.” She instructs seriously, authority creeping into her tone.

You nod as the adrenaline of the gate’s collapse begins to wear off. While you push yourself off of the ground, your mother finds the group surrounding the broken structure. Forcing her way through to look at it. You rub your elbow, staring at the group. Each are dressed in varying sleepwear while others still wear their Hakamas’. All quietly discussing and examining the rubble.

Scooping up your spilled groceries, you walk past the group, listening as best you can as you head into the shrine grounds.

“-Could it have been damaged by that recent thunderstorm?”

“No, no. The gate’s material is supposed to repel lightning. Not attract it.”

“It’s possible, but look at the position of some of the cracking-…”

Their words become a blur in your ears as you head inside of the shrine. The frazzled feeling finally dispersed.

But now, you were just confused.

What, or worse, who grabbed you?

You felt your eyebrows knit as you walked deeper into the shrine grounds. Headed towards your Sha-ke. You mentally slapped yourself. Rolling your shoulders and taking a breath as you went into work-mode.

Approaching your home, you slide the wooden front door open, stepping inside and dropping the basket of food down. Then, slipping into your bedroom.

The room was dark aside from a small orange lantern lit in the corner of the room, stretching over every surface the light could touch—including Komiko’s sleeping figure from the floor. You were silent as you crossed your sleeping sister, creeping towards the chest of drawers across your room to find some medicine.

Your toes flexed as you tiptoed, silently finding the third drawer filled with medical amenities. It creaked softly, causing you to pause before you were able to pull it open.

“(Y/n)?” A soft voice yawned.

Immediately you grimace with a sigh, shielding your elbow from sight.

“Hey Komi’.” You reply softly.

“What are you doing?” She mumbles, rubbing her eyes. Kneeling beside her futon, you reach forward, clutching her small fist as you smiled down at her sleepy expression.

“Don’t worry, just helpin’ momma. I promise I’ll be back soon. You can go to sleep.” You tug it away from her eyes to stop her from rubbing them.

“I don’t wanna’. Not when you’re hurt.”

You pause at her comment. “…You’re too observant for your age.” You scoff fondly, patting her head with your clean hand.

“What happened?” She rests her head back down on the pillow, blinking to try and stay awake.

“I fell.”

“What about the loud boom?”

“…One of the Tojii Gates also fell.”

“Oh.” She says. Too sleepy to worry about how important that might be.

“So, we aren’t cleaning the gates tomorrow?” She adds with a sleepy frown.

You huff gently with a breathy laugh. “I’m afraid not. We’re probably going to close the shrine grounds tomorrow to fix it… But they might let us clean the other two.”

She nods. “Okay.”

As you watch her slip in and out of consciousness, you pull your sleeve up, eying her cautiously as you treat it. When certain she’s not watching, you carefully apply the medicine to the wound with a small towel. Watching your sister’s expression for a moment, your fingers continue working to bandage your elbow.

“Did the gates fall on you?” You pull the bandage tight around your elbow as she speaks again, her eyes still closed.

“No.” You reply.

She pauses again. Evoking you to glance back at her. She’s looking down at her pillow, playing with her blanket as a smile filled with childlike wonder finds her face.

“Then I guess what that man said was true.” She giggles into her pillow, her eyelids sagging.

“What man?” You narrow your eyes at her blissful expression, your fingers working around the roll of bandages as you wrap up your elbow.

“The green man,” she continues. “He said he’s really good at keeping promises.”

“The green man.” You echo, not sure what to make of it.

“Yeah. He was super nice.”

“What did he promise you? Do I know him?” You frown.

Her cheeks swell with air, puffed up into a pout. “He told me not to tell anybody I talked to him.”

You thought it might’ve been a dream she’d had, or an imaginary friend of some kind. You knew it was important to take what kids say with a grain of salt; but that was weird—to have something purely imaginary telling a kid something like that. Unless they were real. You didn’t like that.

A wary feeling welled up inside of you; your legs felt awfully weak after hearing that.

“Komiko. I need you to tell me what he said.”

“… But he-“

“Now. Please.” You murmur.

She sighs, sitting up again as she crosses her legs.

“Well... He never actually told me his name, so I called him the green man. He doesn’t come very often, but when he does, he’s really good at hiding. Any time I try to point him out, he always hides.”

You nod. Do you or do you not take this seriously? You didn’t want to seem stingy, but it was for your sister’s safety. All and all, the only thing you could for now was listen.

“That was the first time I talked to him though. It was after I went out to explore the forest. And I saw him in a tree.”

You nod again, anticipation building in your chest.

“And then he played with me.” She finished. Making you aware of just how close you’d leaned in to listen.

“That’s it? What about your promise with him?” You try with a stammer.

“Oh, yeah! He said that he promised to… Uh…” She narrows her eyes in thought. You suck on your teeth.

“I don’t remember.”

“You remembered earlier.” You reply pointedly.

“I don’t know! I’m just- really tired.” She pouts, flopping back down onto her futon.

“Please Komiko.”

She’s silent for a second.

“I think-“

“Miss (L/n)? Are you in here?”

You roll your head back with a groan, looking towards the doorway where one of your fellow priestesses stand.

“Yes?” You ask, a strained smile on your face.

“It’s your mother. She sent me to fetch you. She needs all hands-on deck.” She explains, her eyes darting back from you to your sister.

“Sure. I’ll be on my way.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, rising to your feet as you set a hand onto your sister’s head.

“You and I aren’t done. So, make sure you get some rest, okay?” You say with a lilt. Her expression makes you smile.

“Okay… And, um, when you get back, can we cuddle?” She leans into your palm, her head warm from the sheets.

“You bet.” You grin, pressing any stray hairs back for a kiss to her forehead. She giggles softly before finally laying down again. The priestess nods to you as you swiftly rise, following her out towards the gates in hasty manner. You could see your mother directing people in the distance.

“-Cover the South-eastern sector. Check for more damage. If need be, we’ll gather to purify any evil. I need- (Y/n).” Her expression shifts to one of relief. You were someone she could always rely on. “There you are. I need you to search the Northern sector of the shrine for any sort of disturbances. Emergency check. Can you manage on your own?”

“I’ve got it covered.” You nod, your hand resting against your side. Fingers prodding for the handle of something sharp hidden away in your robes.

“Thank you. Be quick, and meet back here to report anything. You know what to look for? What you need to report?”

“Mhm.” You nod, eyes narrowing in seriousness.

“Good. Then off you go.”

Honestly, this whole checkup has been rather disappointing for you.

Yeah, you knew it was probably a good thing that you hadn’t encountered any danger—no Tanuki, Oni, or Tengu in sight; the Omarmori’s you’d encountered seemed just fine—but the immaturity in you begged for something aside from mist and shadows that might lurk out on the grounds.

A soft groan of exhaustion bubbled up from your chest as you wrestled with your fatigue, and given the placement of the moon, you guessed it was likely far past midnight. Great. But, in your despair for essentially wasting your time, came the relief for finding the edge of the forest. Your cue, to head back towards the shrine, and clock out for the night.

“Finally.” You breathed, leaning against a tree as you gaze up at one of the small Omamori’s dangling from a tree branch. This one—more powerful than those sold in the gift shop—glistened a vibrant shade of red, golden embellishments of your shrine’s name stamped on. It jingled softly in the breeze, twirling whilst strung from above.

When all seemed to be in fine condition after your check—which you ensured was as thorough as one could be when being checked by one who’s been awake for eighteen hours straight—you decided to begin your trek back to the shrine.

When walking back, the clouds seemed adamant on pursuing your troubles as they crossed in front of the moon, effectively blocking your only light source. The mist that hung low to the ground grew thicker, it’s cold exhale slipping beneath the skirt of your Hakama and grasping at your legs. An eerie feeling found your chest as shadows flooded the forest; it was unnervingly dark.

As time passed, the trees began to feel closer together. It was impossible to see anything in front of you, hell, you couldn’t even see your own two feet. You stuck your arm out blindly while nerves encouraged you to find the blade sheathed in your pocket immediately.

You were losing your cool. It was too hard to see. Too hard to breathe. You felt trapped in this veil of mist and shrouded murk as your throat slowly began to close.

No. Something was off.

Biting your tongue, you guided yourself forward. However, with the risk of running smack bang into a tree, you could only increase your pace to a brisk walk.

The mist continued to close in on you. Until it grew tight. It was thick and choppy. You couldn’t breathe.

‘I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I. Can’t. Breathe.’

Black splotched at your vision as you began to inhale the thick mist. Violent coughs wracked your figure, and despite how badly you’d wanted to—you couldn’t stay quiet. You gasped and hacked uncontrollably, tears burning your eyes until you felt your knees buckle helplessly beneath you. Leaving you in a broken heap on the forest floor.

As you shuddered and seized with painful splutters, a disgusting scream—one loud enough to effectively silence your coughs—made you look around wildly. Clamping a hand over your mouth, your body helplessly began to gag against your hand. Demanding you expel of all your bodily contents.

With a lack of air, and the chance of your life at stake, you willingly let the frenzied coughing overcome you.

That’s when the screech resurfaced, that same bestial shriek here to reverberate off of the trees. Echoing around you on all sides, your ears ring at the insultingly loud wail. However, with a sudden gust of wind, the mist around you suddenly disperses, and amidst the clearing, you find yourself alone clutching the grass. Your hands trembled as fresh air returned to your lungs; labored gasps of air letting you greedily inhale anything your lungs could hold.

But alas, your time for relief was short as your eyes suddenly met those of darkness above you. You slowly peered up at the shadowy figure above you. The sclera’s of the being barely visible amidst the sea of black swimming within it’s eyes. It was a Yokai. A demon.

There was a demon within Shrine boundaries.

The shrine had been infiltrated.

Fear flooded your system as your body went into overdrive. Fight, flight or freeze; a decision made unconsciously. Immediately. In this condition, you weren’t given much choice to move; even if you’d wanted to. You laid paralyzed beneath the monster, breath hitched as the demon towered over your crumpled form silently.

It’s eyes lolled around freely within it’s sunken eye sockets, their reflections muddled. They were lifeless, no light within it’s eyes whatsoever. Their eyes clung to the last shreds of skin that kept them in place as the darkness swelled within it’s eyes. Bubbling with empty desires. Or perhaps, none at all.

It was blind, you’d realized.

You held your breath, your movements stilled until there were none. And yet, somehow, there was still sound. Throbbing from within you. Your eyes widened in terror as the sound of your heartbeat began to echo. Stretching past the confines of your own ears. Was it the smoke? Why was your heartbeat so loud?

It was then that a withered hand came flying forward towards your face. The Yokai’s fingers snatching the hair from your scalp.

A scream ripped from you as the Yokai tore you towards it by the roots of your hair. Your fingers clawed at it’s grip as you thrashed within it’s grasp; nothing to defend yourself with aside from the strength you have.

You feel yourself pressed to it as it lets out a hellish bellow, it’s chest rumbling vigorously against your back as you claw at it’s hands—now working their way up your body to hold your waist and mouth.

You scream into it’s shriveled palm as it’s grip tightens, hoisting you up and giving you a perfect view of the back of it’s throat. It’s jaw pops harshly as it seems to unhinge, dropping open in a distinctly inhuman way.

Tears leap to your eyes as your muffled screams of anger and pain quickly grow into ones of terror. You can practically hear the way your body molds into the grip of it’s hands; indicated by the nightmarish cracking of a bone. Another scream, this one the loudest, rips from the deepest corners of your body as you feel your shoulder dislocate.

And suddenly, as it’s humid breath envelops your body, and your feet come in contact with the slick of it’s saliva, your brain just seems to stop.

Click. You’re out.

Limp.

You never thought ‘play dead’ could be taken so literally.

It’s tongue finds your body and licks up your uniform. Dragging up your unconscious body to get a taste. If you were able to form a cohesive thought, you likely would’ve been grateful for the lack of feeling in your body. A disgusting violation that you couldn’t stop, but luckily, couldn’t feel.

However, though you couldn’t feel, you could hear.

You could hear way too much for your own liking, in fact.

The squelch of the Yokai’s tongue against you made you retch against the creature’s hand. This was officially one of the worst ways to die.

Just let it be quick.

Please.

I’m begging.

“Hey, hey now, that is no way to treat a lady. Have you any shame?”

Now that was unexpected.

A new voice.

“Though I doubt any follower of All For One has any knowledge on that sort of thing anyways.” The voice continues.

It was then that you heard the Yokai speak. Though you suppose you weren’t enough of a problem for it to need to speak earlier. Not that you could understand it anyways. It spoke in a series of hisses and squeals, it’s voice loud and agitating on the ears. Yet the person responded. In fact, they laughed.

“Yes, I have.” They pause, the next time they speak, their voice is closer. It’s a man, you realize.

“I do apologize. Though I pity the suffering you endure in this form, it is fit for the horrible sins you have committed against humanity, against The Seven, and now, against this woman.” His voice is rather soft, as his tone grows deeper before dropping off. Silence following his words.

“I mean, surely you understand that there are consequences to your actions.” His voice is even closer now, a deep sigh into your ear. A shudder wracks through you at his tone, among the threat’s implications, fear grew within you instantly.

It's then that you hear a morbid squelch, followed by an ear-splitting shriek from the Yokai holding you. There's a thud before more sounds of aggression can be heard. You have difficulty following what goes on after that. With no sight or feeling in your body, it was nearly impossible to gain any sort of clarity as to what was happening around you.

Reliant on your ears, you listen on as sounds of exertion from the creature can be heard. The man, however, was almost silent.

However, after an abrupt crack, the Yokai fell silent too.

. . .

“Hello there.”

It was the man; and he was right next to you.

“I know you can hear me. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you make it back to the shrine safely.” He murmurs softly, his voice gentle but reassuring. Though his voice remained the same, the underlying tone in his voice was stark from before.

You aren’t sure what’s to come, until you hear a shuffle beside you. Sounds of rustling are heard for a moment before being followed by the steady thud of footsteps from beneath you.

‘What is going on?’

Forced to silently listen to the quiet breathing of the man and his footsteps, you were carried. You weren’t certain where, but you knew that the moment you’d be able to open your eyes, you wouldn’t be where you’d been before. Not that you wanted to linger there anyways.

Eventually—you weren’t sure when—you began to feel again. It started from where his hands slipped beneath the crooks of your knees and arms, then spread to your hands and feet, and working it’s way to your torso and very dislocated shoulder. Throbbing in accordance to your heartbeat. But even yet, you couldn’t open your eyes. It frustrated you to no end.

It was then that you felt the gentle shake of the man’s chest, paired with a breathless laugh. His hands tightened around your limbs, holding you even closer to him.

“Ah, ah. Don’t do that.” He chided; a gentle smile woven in his voice. “You opening your eyes won’t help you heal any faster. After all I can’t have you straining yourself, now can I?” You could feel the vibrations of his neck as he spoke quietly.

Against your better judgement, your muscles released their tension, and you seemed to sink slightly into the man’s—rather firm—chest. Your side remained pressed against his solid figure, softened by the warm linen drapes he wore.

“There.” He murmured.

At that, the world seemed to fall silent.

Thanks for reading. - Animetrashbox.

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #deku x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #izuku midoriya #mha #bnha #god au #deity izuku midoriya #deity mha verse

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ms0milk · 4 months

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𝟏𝟓 | 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"Two warriors with nowhere to let their adrenaline– two Alderans melting like beeswax and forgetting not to touch. Two of you, just the two of you, breathing."

slight cw drunken antics + slurred speech. shoestring patience. you are the only sober two left and carrying your friends to bed requires teamwork. remembering how to speak and pretending not to stare even though exhaustion makes Alderan eyes prettier. the first laughs– warm and uncontrollable. a quiet realization at the foot of the bed where your bodies keep curling closer 3.9k

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The Great Hall vibrates the entire castle tonight. The celebration is obscene. The king is home.

You do not eat in the Hall, you never do, but you stand guard– sit guard from the grand staircase outside just in case. Music rolls through the closed Hall doors up to the entryway's silver constellations. The observatory is finished. The king is home. He does not attend his own banquet tonight and so you do not worry for your company inside. How did he never occur to you? He who built the garden prison for his wife and made it so that there is nowhere to properly hide in Takoba. It’s probably because you’re Alderan that you don’t think much about kings.

If only just until you are found, you will sit on these frosty steps, obscured by their size, and watch the stars twinkle through the widow behind them. It is as tall as they are. This view must be older than this family is because someone built it with love. Because there is nothing behind this part of the castle except for glass and stars and sea.

You smile and long for your oak tree and then smile softer. The muscles in your back ache with overuse, your shoulders too. Sparring with the prince is like dancing.

“Y/n.”

Your head snaps up at the voice from where it had started to slouch with sleep and like a dream your prince is standing at the foot of the staircase. He’s in fine Alderan gold. Did he come through the Hall? How could you doze through the sound of that door opening? Bakugou cocks his head which shakes his ash hair right over his eyes and sends a long red earring to rest soft across his jaw. All you have is moonlight to see him glow.

He hesitates before speaking again, “Is this where you like to hide?”

“You’re one to talk about hiding,” you tease because you are sleepy and lacking basic judgment, and his flinch is hardly hidden, even in the absence of candlelight.

“I need your help.”

If you weren’t awake before you are now, judgment back squarely in place as you skip steps in your hurry to be beside him. Bakugou pulls the air with his temples to lead you to the Hall, boots clicking, hands stiff. Laughter and music vibrates from inside.

“Wait here,” he grumbles and pushes open the Hall door enough to slip through and enough for you to wince at the fat wave of alcohol. The sound pushes you physically backward a step and your eyes can’t adjust fast enough to stop from squinting, but you can’t help watching even half blind and only mostly awake. It’s only been a few hours but people are standing together on tables in their beautiful frilly clothes, screaming the words to a song no one seems to know. A sea of crowds cheer them on from below, equally as drunk, and the scene stretches on from wall to wall. Line dancing between benches, liquor across the floors and a whole room of joy– Sero is linked arm in arm with two waitstaff at the back of the room, kicking their legs and laughing together at their lack of coordination.

You chuckle before you can think to be weary of so many people crammed together. Uraraka, ten feet off the ground, mimes riding a great stallion around the room with a glass of ale in her fist much to the joy of the soldiers sat below her doubled over with laughter. Shinsou’s not far off, surely to keep her from embarrassing the garrison, but his scowling hands are full of Kaminari who can’t quite stand right without the guard’s hand around his waist. You lean in a bit farther. Just a step. At the front of the room, the Todoroki siblings sit bunched at a clean table, quiet but still talking and drinking like the rest. They are delicate and beautiful and you would lament having a father like theirs if you hadn’t just caught sight of your prince at the table beside them.

He needs help– did something happen? He disappeared this afternoon after the mess in the soldiers’ quarters, is he injured? Is someone else?

Bakugou is grumpy on the best of days, tonight he is fuming. Mina is limp over his shoulder, squealing, and something’s dragging on the floor behind him. You can’t see anything beneath his hips in this crowd.

“What’re ya laughing at?” He hollers over the lively sea and catches you in a stare on his march back to the doors. Were you laughing?

Bakugou holds the stare like he’s got something to say all the way back to your side. A band somewhere under the chaos tunes their strings for another round.

“Alderans can’t hold their liquor,” he growls over the threshold, “like a fucking disease.” It’s Kirishima dragging on the floor behind him. The prince has his Champion in a chokehold by the back of the collar. He leans over to drop Mina on the floor, “They’re gone. Can’t go a second without tryin to eat each other’s faces off.”

You wide-eye him but nod and Mina shrieks when she’s plopped to the floor.

He rolls his eyes when he gestures to the pile of drunkards at your feet, “I can’t carry them both upstairs.” Then runs one hand through his hair and flexes the other on his hip to assess the situation. Kirishima drools.

“Miss Mina,” you whisper and crouch in front of her, “can you hold onto me?”

She blinks one eye at a time and grins, “an’thing fr’ pretty lady.”

Kirishima is less lucky, slung across the prince’s shoulders like a training dummy. At least he’s docile. Mina giggles and reels backward every chance she gets from her spot on your back. She squeezes your waist with her thighs and the pressure keeps making you wheeze.

“Ticklish?” Bakugou grunts under the deadweight of his Champion. Something catches in his throat and you struggle to keep your head on the hallway ahead instead of checking what kind of face he might be making. He is framed by stars in every window. He glows at the edges in the moonlight. You are ticklish, he knows that.

It’s the four of you trudging through the castle, getting your hair pulled at odd intervals and trying to breathe in the opposite direction of your inebriated company. Kirishima keeps stretching out of his fireman’s hold and with a crackling bark from your prince, ends up halfway down his back. He narrowly catches you when Mina tries to lean back on a staircase, your hands tight under her thighs and the front of your tunic tight in Bakugou’s fist. You would like to laugh. You’re not sure you don’t, but Bakugou doesn’t pause to revel in stupidity with you.

He stays frustrated and silent and you remember dusk bedtimes at camp. Time passed frowning on carriages. Trying as hard as he is now not to look at you. It is easy to hate him.

You might have lost your fury, but your job isn’t lost to you. You haven’t forgotten your responsibility to your kingdom. Protect her son and serve the Queen and keep your place in the castle. Don’t kill the King of Takoba. Mina doesn’t weigh much and she keeps the cold away, one foot in front of the other. Bakugou’s golden hair rustles with each step beside you and his biceps, frustrated, flex around Kirishima’s legs. It’s easy, so easy, so much safer to hate him and you just can’t remember how.

Your drowsiness vanished with adrenaline and when adrenaline vanished there wasn’t anything left in its place, it would be awfully easy for something to slip inside.

“She didn’t understand,” you murmur hardly loud enough to hear. Mina twirls your hair.

Even for all his stoicism tonight, the prince still rumbles an, “eh?” into the corridor. Maybe he rolls his eyes? Regardless, he doesn’t stop marching with his barely-conscious cargo.

You murmur again, “Shuzenji.” And he stumbles a bit. His Champion is too heavy. “When I thanked her for the room.”

Something inside him shifts beside you– you can hear it, just there under his ribs– like the crumbling of a campfire. He’s looking at you now so you remind yourself not to turn and stare. You smile. It’s getting easier.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t bother.”

“For saving me.”

It’s the two of you walking side by side, failing impossibly. Trying hard not to watch one another.

“Repaying a debt.”

Blood bursts gently under the skin. And you can no longer speak without the smile, no matter how hard you try to tuck your chin into the bundle of Mina’s fingers at your collarbones.

Jeanist and your oak tree, Mitsuki at midnight, how many people can you say fill you with ease?

Bakugou is holding his breath but being here is still easy. Walking is easy. Mina is slipping a bit to the side. Standing close to him is warm, not arson. Sparring with him has made the air too thin and if you’re not careful you’ll touch him again. He’s buckling under the weight of something and you think maybe one of you needs to be tense for the other to know peace–

A clap explodes through the chill of the nighttime castle and your heart pops, a quiet overflow, at the immediate need to account for one thousand things, surroundings, threat, variables, full arms, Bakugou, a pantry staircase, the dark, and when you jolt to fix Mina back upright, she resists. Her hand is planted firmly on the meat of your prince’s ass, where she made good on a t-up to slap him as hard as you’ve ever heard anything hit. He’s frozen. You spit. There’s nothing for it.

As you sink to your knees, her palm leaves a grip in the crease of his trousers and you can barely keep her attached to you with one hand, the other muffling your laughter.

“Attaboy,” Mina groans across your shoulder.

It happens so much faster than you’d expect. But of course he must love them this much for a reason– Bakugou’s lips burst apart in a puff and one rich chuckle breaks the surface. He doesn’t hide it this time. It is flint and tinder. You turn up to him with startled eyes and his smile might be the sun; it’s hardly there and he can’t hide it, doesn’t– he can’t and he doesn’t even try. Yours hasn’t fallen and you don’t think you could force it down for anything.

“dn’t tell kiri.”

Mina’s last words come before either of you try to look away from the other, and modesty evaporates. Bakugou’s grin erupts across his face and you disintegrate fully in hysterics on the rug. He tips his head back and roars.

His laugh is a bonfire, you can hardly hope to hear it and ever calm down, you will laugh together like this until you die surely. He stumbles in his giddiness and backs against the walls to support Kirishima’s weight– Kirishima who wheezes between the chill of the marble and the body of his friend. Tears shine in four Alderan eyes. Mina growls at your jostling. Your hands are stuck firmly to the ground to keep you both from falling over but, surrendering, she lets her fingers slip limp from your neck and tips right over sideways, sprawled.

“– wait Mina, fuck, gods–”

All it takes it one fuck to have Bakugou sliding down the wall like a ragdoll, a hand trying to stitch his gut back together. He’s wheezing now too, exhausted. His ears are red. The veins in the back of his fist threaten to spill from how hard he clenches in laughter.

One second of eye contact and you’re both inconsolable again on the ground. He and Kirishima hunched against the wall, you trembling over your lost cargo, “Mina come back,” you urge through gasps and giggles. Every time you look over to Bakugou, another bout of something bubbles up from your heart. It comes out with the laughter you can’t keep down, but they aren’t the same. They can’t be. One is rich and warm, and the other burns like sugar. Like breathing fire.

A foot soldier is not thrilled to find the four of you enjoying yourselves all over her post and doesn’t appear overly excited at the prospect of corralling Alderans to bed.

“Up,” someone grunts, so much softer than anyone you know. Prince Bakugou has steadied himself on his feet and Kirishima again on his back, and leans over where you’re trying to coax Mina’s arms over your shoulders. He tries to suppress it, but his canines poke sharp out of the corner of a grin. He looms close. Close enough to cast his shadow over you in the moonlight and waft caramel through your hair, “C’mon.”

You would have complied without an argument, if anything failed to contain a chuckle or two, but he doesn’t give you time. Bakugou loops one arm around Mina’s back and your chest and lifts both of you up in an effortless hoist. You rush to grab onto her in the seconds he lets you dangle a few good inches off the ground before setting you firmly down again. He rolls his eyes at the Takoban guard, “Dead on my fucking feet,” and reaches for you to follow. He’s blinking at you like he didn’t just toss three full-grown Alderans around like kittens and you’re focusing hard to blink back. Your ears itch with an awful heat.

“Captain,” he looks between the guard– antsy and relieved– and you, and smirks with confusion, “let’s go.”

You hop twice to situate Mina and nod as politely to the guard as you can manage before falling in line beside your prince. Your shoulders bump in the rush. Not-looking was easier before you knew what his smile sounded like.

Mina’s room is in the guest wing, where they house drunk ball guests and foreign diplomats. It’s entirely plain. You ignore a pang of satisfaction at your new bedroom in the highest tower and knock the door open with your hip, boys close behind.

Bakugou hardly waits a second before he dumps Kirishima over his shoulder hard onto a white sofa. The both wheeze, Kirishima more of a subdued misery compared to his prince’s relief and the next sound is a creak not a breath because Bakugou’s feet are heavy on the floorboards when he walks away. Your friends aren’t lords, but you’re still a soldier. You’ll be gentle. In the dark, you sit at the edge of Mina’s bed and lower her backward into the blankets where she lays, snoring, before you roll her onto her side. It’s pitch black with the curtains drawn, but you know from the silence the prince is long gone.

With a few pillows lined up behind Mina, you rise and make your way to the poor Champion in a lump on a sofa much too small for him. You’ll need light for this. The curtains take two hands to tie back; they’re thick for winter weather but when you do, moonlight drowns the room and everyone inside begins to glow. Why are beautiful things here so cold? Your stomach aches from the laughter and you try to be thankful instead of anything else that the prince has gone to bed. This is your job after all. You can’t smell the sea with the windows closed and so it’s almost like being home, dead alone like always.

“What’re you doing?”

Your forehead cracks against the glass in surprise and you turn with both hands pressed hard to your head like you weren’t just falling asleep against the windowpane.

Bakugou raises an eyebrow behind a tall candle and shuts the door behind him. “You know you’re not actually talkin when you stare like that, right?” His grin more sarcastic than before but no less warm. You gather yourself as the prince sets his candle in a slot beside the door and surveys his company. “Go to bed,” he clucks after a moment of thought. He crosses the room and inspects three more fat candles melted together on a table in front of the sofa. Kirishima groans. Bakugou pinches a wick. Pink and white burst from under his fingernails and purple crackles under the light his sparks make. Red is next. Pinching, pinching, popping in the dark, until each candle has been lit by the smell of caramel.

He crosses again and lowers himself onto a pile of blankets at the foot of the bed as you watch and remember to speak, “Go.”

“I can’t leave them.”

“They’re fine.”

“I won’t.”

After weeks of defiance, why does he choose now to smile like that? “You’re a nightmare.”

“I can’t. If they aspirate–”

“They’ll deserve it.”

“Highness–”

“You think I can’t keep two drunk babies from dying in their sleep?” Bakugou rolls his eyes and finally scoops his chin up to look at you.

Weeks, months– years, of vitriol– and in three nights you’ve forgotten how his lips curl when he stares at something that he hates. How could you think of anything but home when he watches you with all his attention and the warmth of earthenware eyes? How does your heart hold its seams closed?

He will watch over his friends without sleep, he will suffer their boredom in a matchbox carriage so that they can see this ocean he hates so much. He will fight Takobans and diplomats and royalty to keep his party safe, he’ll sit in the kitchens and pluck your splinters instead of attending a feast in his honor and he will throw himself into the sea.

“Y/n.”

“I won’t leave you.”

His flinch would be bright enough to see on a starless night– in the blacks of shadows. You kneel beside the soft spot he’s made for himself at the foot of Mina’s bed and try to remember how easy it was to laugh with him now that the closeness makes your skin prickle from the hair. He clears his throat instead of teasing.

Two warriors with nowhere to let their adrenaline– two Alderans melting like beeswax and forgetting not to touch. Two of you, just the two of you, breathing.

His voice comes and you turn to look because you are incorrigible. His lips are the first thing that catches the light of the stars in the window beyond you. They’re crooked with attitude. He wets them when he’s thinking and they purse to the left as he speaks.

“I,” The sound is gravel underfoot, “I want..”

You hum, confused– exhausted– and he blinks once slowly, something between frustration and thought and the lull of bed, before turning to meet you. This isn’t the closest you’ve ever been. That helps you see him better. A scar you’ve never noticed catches the moonlight and shines in his hairline and you can count the sleep starting to gather in his pretty eyes.

“Yesterday– earlier I,” a shake of his head kills the thought. It’s hard to hear so you’re much too close and when your pinky presses his from how near you are leaning he turns away and frames himself again in starlight like a ruffled hen. “Earlier,” growling now, “Why unarmed?”

“Unarmed what?”

His jaw catches candlelight when he looks to you again so quickly, exasperated but seemingly entertained, “Combat, you oaf.”

“In the soldiers’ quarters?”

Where did the hatred go? There are mosquitoes you haven’t forgiven– is that what this is? Forgiveness. Sitting on your knees like a proper soldier but letting sleep take all other reason away? Pressing closer than you need to hear him because it is winter and fire radiates from his chest– a longing Alderan fire you lost somewhere in the sea.

Bakugou rolls amused eyes but nods at the question. Forgiveness isn’t right but you can’t move away, you will never be free of him. You will never want to be.

“It’s,” you start, distracted by weariness and the rhythm of Mina’s breathing– footsteps in the castle and a blue tinge on the windows edge like frost– he bumps your shoulder with his. Warmth finally bleeds into you. He watches just as close as you do because you’re both whispering hardly-awake, but his attention is firmly yours. Red flicks from your neck to an ear, and back again. From your eyes to your lips and back again.

“It’s harder to hold back with a weapon.”

He jerks back instead of spitting on you because his laughter comes faster than he can keep it down, but Kirishima groans and candles flicker and you close your eyes to eat the sound of his joy. You’re slipping. You curl towards him and rest your head on the curve of the bed as he regains the parts of himself that will help him sit up, but when he faces you again he’s lost his shield and spear. The iron that clenched his jaw and furrowed his brows and slit his eyes and lace his scowl with hatred. All that’s left is lionheart laughter and a fascination with your smile.

Two Alderans melting. Your legs are sliding out from under that proper kneel and his hands are slipping from the fists he tried to knot them in. Bakugou mirrors you when he rests his head on the edge of the mattress because his bonfire is burning down. Mina snores once loudly and startles herself.

“What does aspiration sound like?”

Prince Bakugou Katsuki is his mother’s son smiling with a pale moon cheek smushed into the bedding that supports him. Always looking at you. Close enough to hold.

“Like someone choking on vomit.”

He laughs with everything he has left and rolls his face flat into the duvet. Everything he has left isn’t much, maybe just a candle. It’s enough that you’re smiling again in the pool of wax.

He peeks an eye out from the blanket, “Think we’re in the clear?”

He will roar, he will kill for his people and speak to strangers like ants. He will scare children and end wars and infuriate his dressmaker. He will glare. He will let his mages tease him because it makes them happy and he will watch over them when they’re too drunk to stand. He might laugh. Gods please laugh again. He will close every window and throw you a peach and he will make magic because he knows that you love it.

Suddenly it’s easy, not forgiveness, something new. You, spear and shield of the king. Something like devotion.

It’s a horrible thing to sleep on the floor and Bakugou wakes up first, facing the sunrise with your weight on his arm. You, the fierce and deadly dragon. Your cheek is pressed to his shoulder and the pressure forces a pout. Your lips tremble with breath.

He’ll watch your chest rise. He’ll let your fingers curl around his like ivy when he dares to move and he’ll close his eyes for a moment instead of thinking too hard about hunger or the pink scar that pokes out from under the neck of your tunic. You will wake up slightly later than dawn drooling, alone, blankets wrapped warmly around you.

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tagged angels ✧.* @nnubee @nonomesupposedto @kotarousproperty @strawberry-mentos69 @sveetnn @lunrai @km7474 @cathwritestragediesnotsins @idimmadontgiveashit @kooromin @k1tk4tkatsuki @litiri @kiwibao @sarcasticlittlebook @condy-wants-a-cookie @mysticalfridge @falling4fandoms @katanaski @romiinlove @cherripunch26 @acid-rain27 @bakugouswh0r3 @zukowantshishonourback @ultracrii @chandiewashere @screechingdreameater @when-you-are-just-done @levisbae2 @flyhighinthesky @1astr0id1 @thebluespacecow @mizzfizz @butterscotch-ripple-icecream @phoenix-draws77 @ltadoriyuujl @dreamingoftomorroww @optimisticprime3 @misscaller06 @the-omnipotent-phlowr @king-dynamight @sky-angel101 @rosiejacklyn

could not tag for some reason :(

#what happens when you realize your previously sworn enemy has stronger morals than god #what happens when it's kinda hot #thank you for all this support as always! i am spoiled by my readers <3 im so so happy you enjoy these two weirdos #a hymn to black water #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha fantasy au #mha fantasy au #bnha #mha #fantasy bakugou #fantasy bakugo #fantasy bakugou x reader #fantasy bakugo x reader

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bitter-pyre · 11 months

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𝘌𝘪𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯. 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵?

#mha #bnha #krdk #kirideku #kirishima eijirou #midoriya izuku #winter au #fantasy au #i can't even decide haha #god i have too many story ideas #and not enough time #the kirideku brain rot is so strong #pyre draws

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angst-king · 1 month

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Love Beyond Mortality pt 2

(( Here's the second part, let me know if you want me to continue this. CW mention of murder-no really descriptions- Hope you, enjoy its long)

“I told you to wait!” “I wasn’t going to wait around who knows how fucking long!” “Well if you did you wouldn’t have had to get his blood on your hands!” “Why would it have mattered?!” “Because I could have helped you! I could have made this whole situation go smoother!” “Its done.”

Taishirou huffed and looked over the human’s body, he noticed how shredded his robes were, the hand prints all over his bare skin as well as bruises and cuts. Shrugging off his captain's coat he walked over and draped it over Shota’s shoulders.

“Let's get you home, you need rest.”

Things happened fast, word of what happened spread like wildfire, and it seemed that disaster followed him wherever he went. First, his school fired him, his house had been burned down, and now he was being summoned to trial in Olympus! He already had to deal with the mortals being angry with him for angering the god of strength who lived! The god of strength had a gaggle of devotees who didn’t take the harming of their god lightly, so they sought our revenge. He ended up having to live with Nemuri which brought trouble to her shop, plenty of their devotees were looking to run Shota out of the village or worst comes to worst, kill him!

Of course, Shota wasn’t excited about this trial though he held onto a shred of hope that these beings would bestow empathy, sympathy, and mercy towards him.

The day of the trial came, Shota had been brought to Olympus by two minor gods who had placed him in a holding cell. Olympus was different than he thought, sure it was a place in the sky bright and colorful almost heaven-like, with temples and castles. Even with that being so, there was a hostile air to it, different sides of Olympus didn’t have the same weather, and skies ranged from grey and rainy to bright and cloudless.

“Alright mortal, let's go.” The clanking sounds of his cell opening had him rise to his feet as he was escorted down the hall of the Olympian's castle. They walked for what seemed like miles until they entered a grand courtroom filled with many divine beings. There were large chairs in the center wall with a few others along the side of the lower court. The chambers echoed and ringed with chatter which lowered to whispers and muttering when Shota’s presence was announced.

“And now we bring in Shota Aizawa, the mortal who attempted to take the life of Yugo god of strength one of our Olympians.” The murmuring hummed louder amongst the large crowd as Shota was placed at his seat. An older man from the large seat banged his gabble to silence the room as he introduced himself and those at what was presumed to be the judges' table.

“I am Gran Torino, God of time, creation, and honor. To my immediate left is Lady Chiyo goddess of plague, healing.” The woman bowed her head slightly before Gran Torino carried on.

“To my immediate right is Lady Shimura Nana, Goddess of justice” A woman with black hair bowed before the crowd with a wide and warm smile.

“Those in the chairs below are our Olympians who will be sitting in on trial to decide your fate. Now I ask you, young man, what do you plea?” Asked Gran Torino, Shota swallowed the nervous lump in his throat as he felt every pair of eyes on him.

“I-I plead innocent, Y-your honor.” He announced unconfidently, and then another question was asked.

“Are you saying that you were not the one to attempt to take young Yugo’s life? You were not the one who snuck into his chambers to kill him?” Shota shook his head and shifted nervously in his seat.

“N-No sir, that is not what I’m pleading innocent to”

“So you admit that you were the one to do it?!” Interrupted a man whose body lit a blaze with a roaring fire as he stood. Shota stammered nervously under their gazes, he felt like a mouse trapped in a room of hungry house cats ready to pounce at any opportunity.

“I-…I…I had my reasons, s-sir”

“What reason does someone have for attempting to kill a god, what could you possibly have against him?” The fireman’s tone felt like jabs as if he was already being accused of a guilty verdict.

“Now now Enji, let the man explain.” Called out Nana from her position, Enji grumbled and sat back down. Nana then looked at Shota with a soft expression.

“Mr Aizawa, may I ask why you tried to kill Yugo? Were you forced?”

“n-No ma’am, I did it on my own volition…to avenge my s-sister.”

“Pathetic!” Shouted Enji, many of the court attendees agreed with him nodding and ‘yeahing’ along with him. Again Gran Torino called for order, and when the room slowly quieted Nana asked for Shota to elaborate. Shota knew he couldn’t go back now so he explained everything to them, from what happened to Nemuri to what had happened to him that night in the temple.

“And why should we believe this story of yours? Do you have any proof of this happening? How do you know that your sister wasn’t asking for it?” These questions of doubt stabbed at him, as if they already saw him as a liar no matter how much proof he gave them.

“How do we know that what you say is true?” Many more of these sorts of questions were like arrows impaling him left and right as many accused him of fabrication. They wouldn’t let him get in a word and when they did they were twisted and torn and picked apart! How was this fair? This wasn’t a fair trial! Even after asking Taishirou to tell his side of things, the judges didn’t seem to budge on their attitudes while the chairmen god and goddesses seemed undecided. They called for a recess session that had lasted 30 minutes before their decision had been made. Shota and Yugo had both been called to the center court where Gran Torino announced the verdict.

“As it stands we here find Shota Aizawa the mortal guilty of attempted manslaughter of an Olympian, his punishment will be, to be turned into a demi gorgon!” Shota’s eyes grew wide in horror, he had heard many tales about demi gorgons and he knew this would only put a greater target on his back. This meant he would most likely have to go into hiding now! He would have rather been struck dead than this! Before he could even protest he felt the change occur. Scales grow in patches along his arms, legs, and other parts. His tongue lengthened and split, his vision became blurry and overwhelmed by the light. His nails lengthened slightly to short claws. The sound of hissing grew in a cluster as slithers of snakes made their presence upon the man’s head mixing with his hair. Shota cried as the change overwhelmed his entire being. How could they still see him as guilty? How could he be punished for this? Why was this man walking away without a scratch?

“And now I Nana Shimura declare for Yugo to be stripped of his title as an Olympian and for his power to be taken.” Hold on what?! Shota looked up in shock at the woman who gave him a soft wink and smile while the other man screamed in outrage.

“I hear by find you Yugo, guilty of rape, sexual assault, and abuse of power. You are banished from Olympus!” No way! Was this real?! Was he actually being punished?!

“NO NO NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS! I DID NOTHING WRONG! That lil monster tried to kill me for no reason!” Yugo yelled out stomping and throwing his arms around, the crowd watched as his powers were stripped from him, his form weakened and shrunk withering away into almost nothing! Some people booed at his disappearance and protested along with him. Even some of the judges looked shocked at the goddess’s call.

“B-But Lady Nana do you really believe that Yugo would do something like that?” “We aren’t even sure if that miserable beast is lying!” “Why do you believe him of all people?” “You’re going to listen to the monster?” “Those two were probably asking for it!”

“SILENCE!” Demanded the goddess, her voice cutting through the crowd like a sharpened sword. The room became so quiet you could hear a pin drop as she continued.

“As you know I do my best to keep things as fair as possible, and for you all to be questioning a victim of sexual assault along with his sister like this is inexcusable when we already have had a witness report. Yes, I would love to preserve our standings as Olympians, and kicking someone from their chair is a big decision that I do not take lightly. But I do this for not only the safety of the mortals but for all of you. If he was willing to do such things to two mortals who knows what he could do to anyone here if he hasn’t already! I do not agree with Mr Aizawa’s sentencing myself but both sides knew there were consequences. I do not blame him for his actions, I would do the same if anyone i-I loved dearly had been harmed in such a manner. I would tear apart the earth itself till I bring down such a person to their knees! I’m sure you would all do the same!”

Her voice boomed and rang through the walls, everyone’s attention flickering from her to Shota.

“There is one final decision that has been made, this was done collectively. Shota Aizawa, with the chair now open, would you take it?” Shota stared up at her incredulously, was she for real? Was this a joke? Was she asking to take Yugo’s place?

“I-I…I w-wouldn’t kn-know what that means, ma’am.” He stuttered, everyone in the room looked just as surprised by her offer.

“What this will mean is you will inhibit Olympus like all of the others here, you will be put on a probational period and be held to the same standards as my fellow Olympians. You will create your own domain ad rule over it. We’ll call it your chance at redemption.” “D-do i have a choice?” “No” And just like that his fate had been sealed in stone! How would he be able to see his sister? There’s no way to get back to her! How would she take this?!

Days went by, Nemuri had been told the results of the trial and of course, she was upset! She was happy her brother was still alive, and that he hadn’t been exiled, and she had a chance to see him. It was bittersweet when any time she went to his temple to find him he hid from her! She cried for days and nights as she missed him dearly. He was her only family, now she was all alone Taishiro hated to see her so distraught over the loss of her brother. He let her stay in his ship and started taking care of her, encouraging her to go out, keep her bakery up and running, and provide her a shoulder to cry on. The pirate captain knew he could only do so much and it broke his heart to see her like this. He tried many times to convince Shota to talk with her, but each time Shota refused.

“Please! She needs you!” “What could she possibly need or want with a monster like me?” “You are her brother, Shota! She will always need you, you are the one who protected her. She cries for you day and night! She still loves you!” Silence, after a while Taishiro thought the man had left so he started to go back to his ship.

“W-wait….T-Taishiro!” Taishiro could hear a hint of desperation in his voice.

“Yes?” “…I-…I will meet with her…On one condition.” “And what is that?” “…You guard her with your life.” Taishiro furrowed his brows at his request.

“What do you mean Shota, you can still protect her and look after her you know.” Shota nodded and sighed.

“I’ve lived my entire life as her protector, and she needs someone new, I can’t be the only one she has anymore….I know that you like her, and she likes you too. So I’m putting my trust in you Taishiro.” Taishiro paused at this, was he really that obvious? He blushed softly and stuttered out.

“Sh-Shouta, are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure. She may hate me for it at first but, she will understand my reasonings.”

The day Nemuri was finally going to see her brother she was ecstatic! Smiling from ear to ear, she got herself ready much faster than Taishirou had expected. It did warm his heart to see her so happy. He knew this day would be a whirlwind of emotions but for now, he reveled in her happiness. Arriving at the temple that Nemuri practically ran into she called for her brother.

“Shota! Sho! You here?” Nemuri continued to run through the temple, looking around for the man. At first, she began to worry that he had flaked out on her until a soft.

“In here” Came out from behind a statue, speedily walking over to it, she turned the corner and was greeted by Shota. Whose eyes were covered in bandages. The snakes in his hair remained, some looked curiously at her. Hissing and flicking their tongues, they didn’t launch at her but slowly extended themselves towards her. This frightened her at first, she yelped and stepped back but Taishirou came up behind her and gently held her.

“It's okay, they won't hurt you, they’re just curious about you.” Nemuri nodded at this and continued to observe Shota’s new form. The silence seemed to make Shota nervous. The bandages were thin enough for him to see her silhouette and he knew where everything was. Though details weren’t the same. He wished he could see her face again but he didn’t want to take that chance.

“N-n…Nemuri?” Nemuri noticed his hands slowly reaching out, she gently took them and placed them to her face while nodding.

“Yeah Shouta, it's me.” His lips wobbled slightly before he bit down on them and turned his head away from her.

“I-…I’m sorry you have to see me like this.” Nemuri gave a soft smile and leaned her face into his hands while she spoke.

“There’s nothing wrong with how you look Shouta…You didn’t ask for this. So please…don’t be sorry.” Shouta gave a small nod, his brows knitting into a sad expression.

“I'm just happy to see you, and I wanted to thank you…” “For what?” “You did something no one else would have done for me” Shouta cracked a smile at her words, though he kept his lips closed not wanting her to see his fangs.

“I would have done it no matter who had done that to you. Mortal or not, and I’d do it all again because you’re my sister.” “I just wish they didn’t do this to you….” “I know,” Shouta then pulled Nemuri into a tight hug.

“But I will learn to live with it, as long as you are safe, I will do it all again.” Nemuri stayed in her brother’s embrace for as long as time would let her before Shouta finally mentioned the deal.

“Oh, one more thing….Taishirou and I have made a deal.” The woman pulled away to look at the two of them inquisitively. Taishirou had already braced himself for her reaction.

“What sort of deal?” “Well since I will be learning to be an olympian, I won't be able to be the brother you need, plus I want you to have someone else besides me that you can lean on. So I’ve assigned Taishirou to protect you with his life.” Even with his limited sight, he could tell this shocked her. Shouta smiled fully and warmly at her.

“Please, Nemuri. I see how fond you two are of each other, and I want you to live for yourself. I will still be there for you, but I can’t be the only one you have.” Nemuri looked over to Taishirou asking if this was true and the blond nodded at him. They expected for her to cry again, or for her to be angry but she just pulled Shouta into another hug.

“I won't let you down.”

#king's fanfic #mha Gods au #King's prequels #aizawa shouta #nemuri kayama #taishiro toyomitsu #nana shimura #enji todoroki

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