#all might x child reader

[fatkish]

Hey!!!! Could i please an thank you req headcanons for pro heroes and their kid telling them they like another hero over them??? i just think itd be rlly cute haha

Pro Heroes x Child Reader: Asking Their kid who Their Favorite Hero is

Midnight:

When she asked you who your favorite hero was you happily shouted Present Mic. Although she kinda sweatdropped at the thought of Hizashi, she smiled and still agreed that he’s a good hero.

All Might:

When reporters asked you who your favorite hero was, since All Might is your dad, you happily replied with Endeavor. When asked why, you replied with fire is super cool and he make bad guys pee their pants cause he’s scary. All Might had to hide his frown and cried later that night. Endeavor who has caught the tail end of the interview, laughed at it

Sir Nighteye:

When he asked who your favorite hero was you replied with Gang Orca. This started a long Argument between the both of you on who’s better, All Might or Gang Orca.

Endeavor:

He isn’t really the type to care about this kind of thing but when you replied with Fatgum, he wasn’t expecting that. You told him that he’s your favorite because Fatgum is cute and squishy looking.

Hawks:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was, expecting you to say daddy, he was shocked when you said Edgeshot. He regrets asking since you started to argue with him on why Edgeshot is cooler than him.

Fatgum:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was you told him it was Mirko since she kicks butt. He laughed and happily agreed seeing you excitedly reenact her fights

Present Mic:

When he had you on his radio show he asked you who your favorite hero was you told him it was Nighteye since he’s smart. If he wasn’t on air at the time he would’ve been crying and explaining to you that your dad’s smart too

Aizawa/Eraserhead:

When you told Aizawa that your favorite hero was Present Mic, the only reaction you could see was a slight eye twitch, but you giggled and then told him it was a joke and that he’s your favorite since he doesn’t need his quirk to beat a villain. Plus he’s your dad so that automatically makes him the best. He just smiled and gave you a hug and kissed your forehead

Best Jeanist:

When he asked you who you’re favorite hero was you told him you don’t really have a favorite since you think heroes are kinda lame. You told him you liked Nedzu since he could probably bring humanity to their knees. He became kinda worried about you after that answer.

Mirko:

When you told her your favorite hero was Ryukyu because dragons are cool. She smirked and said that she thinks Ryukyu is cool too and asked if you wanted her to arrange a meeting so you could meet your Idol. You screamed in delight and hugged your mom’s leg begging her to do it.

Gang Orca:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was you replied with Black Manta. He sweat dropped and told you that 1.) he’s not real and 2.) he’s a villain. You looked at him with a straight face and said he’s cool like your dad. He’s now a little worried about you

Edgeshot:

When Edgeshot asked you who your favorite Hero was you replied with Itachi Uchiha. He looked you dead in the eye and said that Itachi isn’t real. You then began to explain how Itachi is a better ninja than your dad. Edgeshot listened and was happy that you admired a good person and at least you didn’t favor villains

Kamui Woods:

When he asked you who your favorite hero was you told him Deadpool and Spider-Man. When he told you they aren’t real you told him he didn’t ask for whether they were real or not. You told him you like how they’re funny and that you want to be like Spider-Man.

[fluff-n-cookies]

I hate how they portray allmight as a father

in EVERY all might x daughter fanfic i've ever read, all might almost always neglects his daughter and it's almost always angst no fluff and i don't like that, I mean if you like it, sure go head and read it but I think all might would never do that. if anything, all might would desperately try to include her in everything. izuku's training?you're helping him bandage the mf up. hero galas? a date? nah man, hes taking you only to show you off. even when you're a child, he will attend all your school events, serve tea at all your princess tea parties, even when he's tired he will at least make sure to read you a bedtime story. all might once mentioned seeing nana shimura as a mother and I think he would try to be an equally if not better parent then her. wanting to take care of you and prove himself not only a worthy successor and hero but also as a worthy father.

[fluff-n-cookies]

YOU GUYS PLEASE SEND ME PLATONIC BNHA ASKS THEY GIVE ME LIFE OR ATLEAST COMMENT ON THIS POST

COMMENT YOUR FAVORITE iCECREAM FLAVOR OR a sHORT descRIPTION OF YOUR OC OR SMTHING IDK

I live off asks and comments. I will DIE without them. Do you really want that on your conscience??

[l-love-writing]

All Might and Aizawa. With a kid who has potential but is not a hero. Headcanon

*All Might was looking for an heir to pass on his Quirk to (Izuku isn't around yet).

*Just when he thought he couldn't find a suitable heir for himself, he suddenly saw you.

*A villain had taken you hostage, but with a quick move, you neutralized the villain. He was impressed when he saw that you saved yourself and immediately came to you. He made statements that he was looking for an heir for himself.

"So you want to make me your heir?"

"Yes."

"Well I'm not interested. It looks dangerous."

*All Might was surprised to hear this. I mean, who would refuse to be the heir to the number 1 hero?

*He tried to convince you for a while, but when he finally met Izuku, he let go of you. He still made sure you took the UA exam.

*When Aizawa saw you, he thought you were just a troublesome kid.

*You were just riding around on a skateboard, but while you were doing it, you were endangering people because you were using your quirk.

*When Aizawa saw this, he was sure you were a troublemaker. He approached you to stop and warn you, but you ignored him.

*You started to run away and Aizawa chased after you.

*He thought you were a student from the hero school because you used your Quirk so well and were able to escape from it. After all, Aizawa doesn't know all the students in each class. He caught you and interrogated you.

"Which class are you from? You were supposed to be at UA."

"What's the deal with school now? I'm in middle school."

*He was surprised to realize that he was not a UA student. (You are a final year student of secondary school.) He asked if you would take the UA exam and you said without hesitation, "I will not take the exam."

*Aizawa then started pestering you. He even tried to convince your parents to send you to UA. If you were this talented even without training, he was wondering how strong you would become after training.

(I apologize for my spelling mistakes. English is not my native language. I accidentally deleted this once.)

[nenehyuuchiha]

Tim Drake is DC Taylor Swift

[genyawritesshizz]

A Hum of Time. Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Part 5

Summary: An innocent relationship between two workaholics could not possibly be that eventful. Just two individuals finding comfort within each other's company and the occasional cup of coffee. What happens when a secret that could ruin both of their careers brings the whole thing crashing down? In a heart wrenching decision, you must do what is best for all three of you and brave the future alone. Will you ever tell the truth? You might not have a choice.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

8081-word count

It's happier I promise :)

It has been six years since the incident. Any blog or post related to you had long ago been swept away into the ever-changing sea of media, buried far below, never to resurface. The name Siren was long forgotten.

Following being discharged after over two months of recovery you had changed your names and moved to the opposing coast. The opportunity for another fresh start alighted new found hope for the future. The saved money from your time as a hero and life insurance payout David had carefully pulled allowed the two of you the luxury of ease and into a mundane title of stay at home mom. 

Despite everything that happened, every sacrifice made, and every sleepless night it was all well worth their price at being present to watch your boy grow. You loved him more than you had ever thought possible. A mother’s love is a force of nature, boundless and unconditional. 

Even if he could be a pain at times. 

Admittedly handling a four-year-old who’s temper tantrums could burst your eardrums had been one of your toughest battles. Thankful that he had inherited something of yours but also woeful for both yourself and the neighbors; He had manifested your vocal quirk.

After many replaced windows, pitiable apologize, and endless pep talks he had finally learned to somewhat control it. With his quirk and gaining of maturity came questions. He could faintly remember you as a hero all those years ago, fortunately however not much. Just that you wore an ‘awesome’ costume and got hurt. 

You never told him the truth. Instead opting to lie whenever his bubbling curiosity peaked. Stating that back in the day you were simply a sidekick to some one off low tier hero. Nothing special. Just scratching the surface of heroism, that you had thrown in the towel after getting hurt all those years ago. 

Not a complete lie. 

Yet far from the whole truth. 

This still fascinated him. 

Late at night as you tucked the restless child to bed, he would beg for stories, pictures, anything from back then. Occasionally after seemingly endless hours of impetration you’d buckle to his demands, telling a watered down tale of the past. Even as you regaled the simplest of petty robberies, he looked to you like you had hung the stars in the night sky, as if you were the reason that rain fell. Big blue fascinated eyes with a wide smile filled with astonishment chanted your praises in complete and utter admiration.

“Momma is the coolest!” “Momma is the best hero!” “Momma is my hero!”

‘Momma is my hero.’

Oh, how your heart melted at his words. The giddy childlike wonder pushed any nightmarish trauma to the back recesses of your mind. Though, that did not mean it disappeared. 

Haunting memories of the past always found a way to resurface.

As he grew older, near the age of six, he discovered how to use the home computer. Spending hours watching videos online of other heroes, it was only a matter of time until he inevitably stumbled upon a video of All Might. Despite your parental controls blocking the tag. Where there's a will there's a way, this kid was stubborn. Since the discovery he could not stop watching, completely enamored. The daunting words “I am here” blaring from the computer's speakers echoed with your son's delightful laughter bounced off the walls of your shared home.

Over and over. 

Taunting. 

Mocking. 

It stung the deepest depths of your faulty heart to hear his voice day in and day out. 

To watch your son fall in love with a man who too used to hold your heart… 

Yet you did not have the heart nor the courage to demand he turn it off.

A particular moment replayed in your mind.

You had just come home from a quick trip to the market. Nearing the age of elven you entrusted him to stay home alone for short periods of time especially when, if provoked, he could scream loud enough for anyone clear across the city to hear. Yet when he did not meet you at the door or answer your call your stomach dropped. As you began to call for him again your words suctioned themselves to the back of your throat. A cold sweat of fear beaded on your brow. 

The bathroom door was open, the light on, and a shadow moved from the door frame. The figure almost too tall to be completely seen. The shape of it alone made you shiver. 

Two long strands of hair sticking up in an iconic V shape shadowed onto the hallway wall.

“All Might?” your voice quivered, graveled and raw. Foreboding dread balled into a tight knot threatening to suck you into dissociation, as if at any moment you would melt into the floor. Slowly wobbly legs moved, approaching just enough to allow a peak over in. 

“That is right! FOR I AM HERE!” Your son stood atop of the bathroom counter, his fist raised and a triumphant snaggle toothed smile stretched across red blushing cheeks. A bottle of hair gel spilled out on the counter and an old relic of the past wrapped around his shoulders. The overhead light casted a deceiving shadow. 

“I…” Trailing off a wide range of emotions spanning from solace to fear hinted disappointment flooded all at once. Eyes watered, yet never spilled over. The breath you held deflated.

“Don’t I look cool mom?! I look just like him! I look just like All Might!” He beamed. Turning back to the mirror to flex his small arms, striking another one of All Might's signature poses. “I can’t believe you have this! Is this really his?” His hands gripped at the fabric of the cape. The material swallowed him completely, flowing from his tiny shoulders to the floor. You had not seen it in years, not since the move. 

“You...” Swallowing the lump in your throat and blinking away unshed tears, you approached. Standing behind him, your heart pounded against your chest, ragged and unsteady beats. Struggling to find words, mouth opening and closing yet no sound escaped. Voice cutting out, crackling into a depressing croak. 

An everlasting symptom of that treacherous day reared its head once more. When overly emotional or speaking for too long strain on the scarred vocal cords caused them to lock up, trapping words within. Akeno’s brows furrowed, joy faltering.

“Momma?”  Seeing his shifting mood sour hands quickly adjusted, signing in boisterous movements

 ‘You look so totally awesome, Akeno!’ His eyes stared at the signs reflected in the mirror before going wide with exhilaration, smile returning brighter than before. In one swoop your arms wrapped around his tiny waist in a tight hug. The little boy giggled in delight. With what little strength you retained you held him off of the counter, flying him around the air. Despite the burn of strain inside your abdomen and the sting within your decaying forearm muscles; you could not help but laugh with him. 

After laying him to bed for the night you quickly checked under your bed for a certain set of boxes. Thankfully only one had been disturbed. Looking inside the now empty package you could still smell a faint hint of Toshinori’s cologne stained into the cardboard. 

You did not have the heart to throw nor give away his cape once realizing it had accidentally been packed in your hasty retreat. The tears you had wiped away earlier returned, unabashedly spilling as stifled nostalgic memories resurfaced. 

“Sorry I’m late dear. You know how it is.” Shuffled footsteps trudged through a darkened bedroom. Flipping over your met with the silhouetted figure of Toshinori, thinned fingers unclasping his cape before, In vain reaching for the zipper. Losing it in the folds of loose fabric. A small chuckle roused from your drowsy form.

“Here, let me get it.” Moving to the edge of your shared bed he turned, allowing you to unzip and undress the hefty costume from his thinning frame. Warm hands roamed the now exposed skin of his back, massaging the taught muscles beneath. Letting an exasperated groan his stiffened shoulder relaxed under nimble fingers.

“Thank you.” Humming in response digits curved upward, smoothing over protruding bones of his ribs, noting his subtle weight loss. Leaning forward to rest your forehead into the center of his back, the delectable scent of cologne still lingered on sweat slicked skin. If you had an ounce more of energy you’d fuss for him to shower, however as he turned to face you, and a hand delicately held your face within its palm all thoughts of reprimanding faded. His calloused thumb stroked at your cheek. 

“Let’s go to bed.” 

Together the two lovers laid within each other's arms.

‘ Maybe, 

maybe I should tell him that I’m- No. 

This… this was the only way. 

It was the right choice. For both of them.’ 

Yearning for something that could never be again you stuffed the thoughts away, curling into yourself alone atop frigid sheets the phrase repeating itself.

‘This was the right choice.’

Yet it offered no reassurance.

You lied once more when your son awoke. Telling him that the cape unfortunately was not actually one of All Might’s. Instead, it was a surprise birthday gift you had bought him from a local shop. That he could keep playing with it if he was good. A bit disappointed that it was not real, Akeno still loved it, promising to be on his best behavior. He even slept with it like a blanket. Never questioning the fact that his birthday was over four months away. 

Now nearing the age of fifteen Akeno had blossomed into such a handsome young man. Though, the older he became the more of him appeared. From the moment he was born with an almost translucent tuft of blonde hair you knew he would lean towards resembling his father. However, as he aged, face thinning over prominent cheekbones and jawline defining; he became the spitting image of Toshinori. A deep void of melancholy, yet also strangely a bit of pride surfaced at this realization.

As the years passed it was clear, he had chosen his path.

Just as his father and you had chosen, your child too dreamed of becoming a hero. 

It scared you. 

Terrified you even. 

You were not the first nor would you be the last to be ‘killed’ in action. He saw the scars. How your voice crackled into stained tones, disappearing into nothingness. The endless hours of futile rehabilitation therapy. The way your body thinned from lack of fully functioning organs. 

He saw the possible dangers, yet still dreamed of it.

And if this is what he truly wanted you would support him no matter what. 

‘It’s what good mothers do.’  

So, when on the verge of graduating middle school, and he came to you with a flyer from an all too familiar school you had to swallow your fear and agree to let him at least try. 

“I like this kid's style. Just like me when I was that age!” Present Mic gushed, watching as this year's group of contestants fought through the first wave of robotic opponents. Only five minutes into the entrance exam and already Akeno had hit the ground running. Screeching his way through metallic foes in hopes of scoring enough points, he had already landed himself on the leaderboard.

All Might watched from his swivel chair, remaining silent, focused on his own protege. His new coworkers banter lost on inattentive ears. 

“Looks like Mic’s got a favorite already.” Midnight laughed, her hands held up and over her head as she too watched. “He’s doing well so far, may even have a shot at passing. Though not sure any of us could handle two screaming blondes.” Now this snagged a bit of the symbol's attention. 

His eyes flitted away from Midoriya’s screen, glancing to the other. Watching with bated interest until a small spark of familiarity struck within him. 

‘Odd.’ He could not quite put his finger on it nor shake the sensation. ‘Have we met before? Perhaps on the train or maybe at a grocery store?’ No no, it was not that. If not that then where? What was it about this boy that stuck out to him?

Maybe it was the vibrant blond hair? It was not an uncommon thing, in fact some of the other contestants had wildly outlandish colored hair. Had he saved him before? Had he met him at a meet and greet?

He would have to ponder this another time. For now, his main concern was Midoriya’s lack of points. Retreating to refocus on his successor the test continued. 

In the end your son had placed fairly high on the exam, landing him a guaranteed spot at UA. The decision was final.

You are going back to Japan. 

“I’m not a child anymore mom.” 

“I know I know, you're a perfectly capable young man. But I'm not about to let you move across the world by yourself.” Finished packing the last of your boxes, now awaiting for the international movers to arrive. Akeno leaned against the doorframe. “Besides, you’ll be living in student housing, so you’ll have plenty of alone time.” Turning to the disgruntled boy and bringing a hand up, you ruffled the top of his head. “But remember, I’ll always be just a short drive away!”

He sighed in defeat, eyes turned away from your hopeful smile. It’s not that he did not want you there, but that he needed to be sure his boundaries were set. He needed space to grow.  

The entire flight you could not help but fidget with the hemline of your sleeved shirt. It’s been fifteen years since you’ve been back… 

Would people recognize you? 

You were in a different neighborhood, far away from your old house and even farther than the shared apartment. Yet Japan was only so big, hence the move in the first place, but surely after so long you would have nothing to worry about. Last time you were here you were in your mid twenties, now you are on the doorstep of fifty. With patches of gray, new wrinkles, more than a few scars, and gaunt thinning your appearance had become almost unrecognizable. But wha-

“Are you excited to be back?” Akeno had noticed your nervous movements, nothing lost to such attentive eyes. Taking out one of his headphones he turned to you. “I know it’s been a while.”

“Yes of course I am.” reaching a hand over, you placed it over his atop the armrest, squeezing the larger palm. 

“Care if I listen too?” You could hear the cello thump as the beginning of Madame Butterfly chimed through his headphones. He smiled back, even if he could sense the unwavering unease and the blatant fake smile, he said nothing, handing over the removed bud. 

The two of you hummed quietly to music until the moon overtook the sun. His head lolled down atop your shoulder as sleep overtook him.

No matter how old he got or how grown up he was he would always be your sweet boy. 

“There, this should last you the week.” Packing the last of the homemade bento boxes into the fridge you had made sure to wrap each one in your signature bunny eared bow. A significant downscale compared to your usual outlandishly adorable packaging. “I made your favorite.”

“You do know that they have a cafeteria, right?” Scoffing at Akeno’s remark and standing from bent within the refrigerator your eyes steeled.

“Oh, so you don’t like your mothers cooking anymore huh? Guess I’ll have to eat this all myself.” Reaching back, you began taking the packages out. 

“NO! Please! I was kidding! I love your cooking mom. Please leave it.” Panicked eyes widened and a bottom lip quivered in a desperate plea. A hardy laugh pushed through teasingly smirked lips. 

“I suppose I’ll let you keep it.”

“Thank you!” Your son's voice returned to its natural cheery tone. Though higher in pitch, alighted with excitement. “Mom there’s something I have to tell you” 

Your eyebrows rouse, quickly leave the small kitchenette to join him on the couch. His eyes locked onto yours, swimming with childlike admiration.

“All Might is going to be one of my teachers!” He beamed a wide toothy grin, almost a mirror of the aforementioned hero. You mentally felt yourself deflate like a popped balloon, exhaling as if all the wind had been knocked free. “ Isn’t that awesome?! ” He let out a boisterous laugh. 

The smile, the laugh, the hair and those big blue eyes. He truly was the spitting image of that man. You felt weak, hands wet and clammy, stomach turning with queasiness, heart thumping against your chest.

“Mom? Are you okay?” Snapping out of your daze you quickly put on a brave face once again, taking a deep breath and nodding. 

“Of course I am! I’m so happy for you ho-'' Your voice chipped and shattered, becoming a harsh croak. Moving to sign the remaining. ‘I am very happy for you! Tell the big man I said hi!’ His eyes tracked each symbol, smile never faltering, used to the use of sign language throughout the years he rejoiced at your admiration with a laugh. Joining him in his laughter, even though yours was nothing more than rushed air and out of nervousness. 

“I’m finally going to meet him!” 

Today was the day. Akeno's first day of school. Though you weren't there to see him off you made sure to send him a lengthy text of encouragement.

Mom: Have an amazing first day of school my baby! High school is a journey filled with excitement, challenges, and countless opportunities. Please remember no matter what happens I’ll always be here for you! Remember to be yourself and have fun! Send me pictures in uniform!

In response all he had sent back was a thumbs up.

All Might stood behind a corner of a building, watching the first year students endure Mr. Aizawa’s quirk assessment test. Again, fearing for young Midoriya, he knew the boy had little to know control of the quirk he had bestowed upon him. Yet he remained hopeful.

What he had not expected was to find himself staring at another boy from the class. 

It was the screeching kid that Mic and Midnight made comments about during the entrance exam that once again nagged at his curiosity.  He felt something indescribable when looking at the boy. The familiar feeling from before returned with a vengeance. Scrambling through hazed memories, he again tried to place the boy within the vast archive. 

“Akeno, it’s your turn.” Aizawa instructed the class to throw the ball as far as they could using their quirks. Simple enough, several other students had already gone, one even managed to score an infinite. Picking it up, Akeno wound his arm back and launched it. Quite average in all sense of the word, yet midair at its peak his mouth opened, and the sheer wind power behind his yell propelled the ball soaring through the air; Higher and higher until the sound waves could no longer carry it. 

‘Oh’…

A shiver ran cold down his wide muscular back. The pitch entered his ears yet sank like a rock in his stomach. 

‘Just like her.’

God Damit he could not do this right now. 

These ridiculous thoughts brought him nothing but heartache and were quickly shoved into the overflowing filing cabinets inside his mind. Hopefully lost within the jumbled mess forever. It had taken the better half of three years to finally put a lid on the pandora's box that once was you. To backslide now was out of the question. 

Rationalize.

Quickly erasing the correlation from his mind with the same cold hard truth he had to continually tell himself anytime a memory of you resurfaced; You were dead . 

‘Vocal quirks are not a rare occurrence. This boy was not you. In fact, he looks more like…OH! Stop it Toshinori’ He mentally slapped himself. ‘Focus.’

It was Izuku’s turn to throw the ball. A perfect distraction and an opportunity for his ludicrous mind to get a grip. 

Amazed by his pupils' success, the threat of his psyche collapsing was stabilized.

Lunch time had finally arrived, overworked and exhausted from their first half of the day each kid flooded the bustling halls. The first week finally reaching its midpoint.

“Can I sit with you guys?” Akeno stood before the trio, bento box in hand, admittedly he was a bit bashful at the thought of his classmates seeing the cutesy bow tied cloth covering yet his need for socializing trumped all. 

“Yeah, for sure!”

“Absolutely!” Midoriya and Ururaka ever the kind and social souls smiled, scooting over to allow him to sit. Iida smiled and greeted his classmate from across the table. 

The group made small talk, the main three discussing the woes of upcoming exams and the prompts of Mr. Present Mics writing assignments. Proclaiming that it was far too early to be assigning such tasks. Being the kind soul Akeno had grown into, he offered his assistance with the English class. Seeing as he was exempt from taking it due to already being fluent. 

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot that you are an exchange student, your Japanese is almost perfect!” Uraraka proclaimed, eyes gleaming with curiosity. 

“Yeah! For only living here for less than a month, your Japanese is amazing. I can barely even hear an ascent!” Izuku added, praising his friend. Questions of the states filled his mind. His mentor had made his debut in America, based all of his costumes and merchandise around their flag and even named all of his moves after its states. He too dreamed of one day traveling and experiencing its wonders. Storing his curiosity, he made a mental note to ask later.

“Well, my mom is originally from Japan. She’s been teaching me Japanese since I first started talking. It’s like second nature.” Akeno chuckled, a shy hand brushing down the spiky blond tips on his neck. Refocused on the topic of travel the group buzzed with excitement. 

However as soon as Akeno unwrapped the ribbon and unboxed his bento the conversation steered in a much different direction. A mouth watering scent filled the surrounding area.

“That's so cute! Did you make it yourself? It smells so good! How did you get the fruit into such perfect stars?” Uraraka gushed at the culinary work of art that was her new friend's lunch. Even the grandeur that was offered via the cafeteria paled in comparison, nothing could beat a mother's love.

Again, you had toned down the cuteness of his lunches considerably since he was a child. However, that did not stop you from arranging it with as much passion as you could. It was simple, yet had protein, light carbs, healthy sugars and lots of veggies! 

Akeno felt his cheeks redden. Not that he was ashamed, he was grateful to have a mother so caring however he’s a grown man now! And grown men don’t need bows or ribbons or star shaped fruit.

“My mom made it for me.” He mumbled, shying away from their surely scrutinizing gaze, they’ll think he's a sniffling little ‘mommas' boy.’

“Truly moving to see such a loving display!” Iida’s chest swelled with pride for his fellow classmate. 

“Maybe your mom could make me one of those!” Uraraka laughed along with Midoriya

“She’s right, it does look amazing!” He agreed. Shocked, Akeno took note of his new friend's approval. He may have to ask a favor of you later. 

 Akeno loved each day of class, he thrived and excelled. His passion growing stronger yet. With the announcement of the UA sports festival on the horizon he readied himself to go beyond, ‘ plus ultra ’ as his idle, now teacher, would say. As the bell rang and Mr. Aizawa dismissed the class, he gathered his belongings and waited for his friend.

Himself, Iida, Uraraka, and Izuku had grown quite close. Always sticking together when it came to field exercises, study sessions and relaxing at lunch. Your son always came home boasting about how amazing each and every one of his friends were. It brought your motherly heart such joy to see him thriving. 

As the halls emptied due to the final bell chiming the group chatted in a more serious tone. Uraraka had confessed that she wanted to be a hero for profit. Initially seeming slightly selfish, as she delved deeper into the reasoning the notion was rectified. Quickly reassuring her that she was noble for wanting to help her family, the group divulged their own causes. 

“What about you Akeno, why do you want to be a hero?” Midoriya asked, curious as ever.

“My mom was almost killed by a villain; she was a hero too. I don’t remember much since I was just a little kid, but I know the pain she went through. The years of suffering she had to endure. It’s my life mission to never allow something like that to happen to anyone else!” The young man wore a face of pure determination, his chest swelled with righteousness and a smile stretched across his face. 

“That’s an amazing reason Akeno!” Uraraka beamed, her cheeks swelled with pink, and eyes shined with admiration.

“Truly an exceptional motive, you have my commendation!” Iida bowed, truly inspired. Proud to be the class representative of such a dedicated and selfless individual. Izuku simply stared as the blond laughed and kicked out a thumbs up. Green eyes widening at the action. 

“When you do that face you kind of look like All Might!” Uraraka chuckled, taking the words straight from Izuku’s imagination. Inside her mind images of the two blondes striking various poses together managed to tint her cheeks darker. ‘So cute!’

“She’s right! Could’ve fooled me” Midoriya laughed, though a hint of nervousness laced the chuckle. The more he looked at his friend the more he could see his mentor in him. A flitting image sparked in his mind, though was overshadowed. ‘Strange.’

Akeno simply laughed with them, happy to be compared to his idol.

“Today we will be practicing search and rescue to prepare you for your visit to the USJ simulation. Just the basics as we’ve discussed over the week.” The under enthused tone of Mr. Aizawa droned to the antsy group of young heroes before him. Laid out before them was a near perfect replica of Jaku City. However, the once proud standing skyscraper lay in disarray. Debris and rubble littered the streets. “Scattered around the city you will find several victims; your goal is to safely remove them from the situation without traumatizing them.” shooting a glare toward his most bain student the simulation commenced.

Racing into the disaster the trainees began implementing their teachings. All without a hitch until a young boy was discovered. Screaming and flailing away from any physical contact he laid inconsolable.

“Hey little guy, it's okay. Everything will be fine, com-” As Deku attempted to approach he again cried out slinking away as a gloved hand reached for him.

“I don’t know what's wrong, he won't respond to anything we say.” Confused and afraid of failing, Momo began to panic. Running to the group, Akeno assessed the situation. 

While inspecting the child from a distance his eyes landed on his hands. Small nubbed pointer fingers extended and repeatedly jabbed together. Recognition flashed through his mind. Crouching before the boy, making no attempt to touch him, he waved. Red puffy eyes looked at him and again fingers jabbed together. Akeno’s gloved hand raised, his pointer finger zig zagged in the air and replicated the child’s jabbing motion, ‘where does it hurt?’ Recognizing the signs the boy pointed to his leg. With one palm flat and the other in a thumbs up position atop it Akeno moved it towards the child, ‘let me help you.’ Sucking up his sniffles the child nodded,  arms extended out, allowing the hero to pick him up. 

His fellow classmates watched in confused awe.

“What was that?” Ururaka inquired as the bell chimed, signaling the end of the simulation.

“He was signing ‘pain’. I just asked him where he was hurt and that I wanted to help him.” 

“You know sign language too?” 

“Ha yeah, another thing my mom taught me.” 

The young man had a surprise for his friends. 

You had agreed to make them lunch! How could you resist such an offer?

‘It's what a good mom would do.’  

Though it came at a cost. Defiantly holding the bundle of boxes above your head your face held determination.

“If you want it, make me give it to you.”

“Mom! You know I'm not good at this”

“Only way you're going to get better is if you practice, ya know it took me years to perfect it!” You countered, if he had inherited your quirk, it was almost for certain he too could use ‘the command’. Just had to concentrate. Besides, if he truly did not want to try, he towered over you, making it easy to simply take it. 

Staring at the bag he focused, breathing in deeply his first attempt a near whisper. 

“Did you even activate your quirk? Try again.” 

“ Hand me the bag .” Loud sound waves nearly had you dropping it, not out of command but from sheer force pummeling your ear canal as he screamed it.

“Nuh uh, that's cheating. Look at me, focus. Take in the surroundings, feel the air move through your vocal cords, find the right pitch and push the sound into my ears. Again.”

“ Hand me th e bag” Fog overtook your vision for a few seconds, regaining full consciousness you saw both hands extended towards him. Yet the bag still remained firmly in your grip. 

“Close enough! Good job Akeno” Dropping the package into expecting hands the boy scurried off. One day he’d master the ability, just needed time and practice.

As the lunch bell rang Akeno called out to the trio, having the group gather around his desk. Reaching into his backpack he pulled out the treasure.

“NO WAY!” Uraraka held her own personalized bento box in hand, your son had mentioned her favor of pink, and you couldn’t help but run with it. An adorable checkered pink fabric covered the box with an elegantly tied bow. 

“Thank you so much, please tell your mom I said thank you!” Midoriya’s was of course wrapped in green. 

“From me as well!” Iida’s was a beautiful shade of blue.

As the group happily strolled to the cafeteria a looming figure waited before pouncing out from behind a corner. 

“Young Midoriya! Would you like to have lunch with me?”

“Uh well, thank you All Might but I-” A firm punch to his arm cut the nervous boy off. Akeno stared at his friend, an eyebrow raised and eyes wide.

“You cannot pass up an opportunity to have lunch with All Might!” He forcefully whispered.

“But your mom-”

“Don’t worry about it!” Sighing in dejection he agreed before rushing to his mentor's side and waving goodbye to his friends. He’d have to properly apologize for missing such a special lunch afterwards.

Sitting across from his pupil All Might skeptically eyed the elegantly tied box. As Midoriya began unwrapping it Toshinori felt a deep pang of nostalgia. From the layout to the smell, even to the encouraging message on the sticky note it felt all too familiar. 

“Hey! You forgot your lunch, so I thought I’d swing by to drop it off.” Standing in the doorway of your once shared office with a wrapped box of bento you stared over the mountainous stacks of paper to your beloved blond. “I was wondering if you’d like to share it with me?”

Darkened hues glanced up from their sheet, only for a few seconds before returning to his work.

“Thank you, but I’m a little busy right now.”  Not yet defeated, you approached the desk.

“I could help you out if you want, I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s fine. Besides I think Mei is all caught up with your work, no need to stay here all day.” Mei, a name you had come to regard with disdain. The woman he had hired to help ‘ease your workload’ brought a bitter taste to your tongue. 

“I could wait until you’re done.”

“I won’t be done for a while, please go back home love. I’ll be back later tonight.” 

With lips drawn tight and eyes swimming with animosity you exited, not another word shared.

An agonizing growl of hunger hours later finally forced himself away from the still looming stack. Opening the box and bristling in delight at its aroma he scarfed down as much as his decayed stomach could hold. Placing the lid back atop the container his heart ached at seeing the message scribed sticky note attached.

‘Don’t work too hard! I love you! ’ 

Truth be told Toshinori did not want you to leave, longing for nothing more than to enjoy the meal together. Yet the ever surging rate of crime due to his limited time left him breakless, charging full steam ahead into his work. Darring a glance to his computer's clock, more time than he had anticipated flew by, 11:42pm.

‘I’ll make it up to her.’

He never was able to.

“Where did you get that?” His voice low and graveled, baritone edging into a bass. Shadows darkening overhead, concealing steeled blue.

 He knew it was foolish to relish in such nostalgia however, if he must be plagued, he was at least grateful it is of happier times.

“Oh, Akeno’s mom made it for me. She made all of us lunch!”

‘Akeno’s mom?’ The older man pondered. ‘ Who is she? What does Midoriya know about this woman? What is her name? W- STOP. This is pathetic. It’s just a bento box. Anyone can cook katsu.’ Clearing his throat he nodded.

“That was nice of her.” 

Folding a freshly dried pile of clothes you sat within your living room, absentmindedly listening to the local news reporter drone on about the most recent activity within the city. However, the flash and sudden switch to a different reporter piqued your interest. Placing the shirt down and adjusting the volume, pure horror sparked as realization of the man’s words took hold.

“Breaking News: There is said to be an active villain attack at UA’s training facility the U.S.J, Class 1-A students are trapped inside!” 

Teleported via warp gate Akeno found himself plummeting into the ocean biome. With only a brief second to grasp the situation he inhaled and braced for impact before diving into the treacherous waters. 

The sting of salt blurred his vision yet through the blur he managed to catch the movement of a finned fist, miraculously dodging he struggled to notate his surroundings. Spotting a green blob floating just below, he hoped his assumptions were correct on who it was. Propelled by sound waves he pushes the foe away and himself closer to his classmate. Grabbing ahold of him Akeno releases another shriek thrusting them further away from the swarming thugs.

 He cannot keep this up. 

Lack of oxygen was beginning to take hold; dots spotted his vision. Despite the burn within his chest, he pushed himself to go further. Finally reaching something solid and using the last gusts of air within his lungs he again propelled them. Rushing upward, they broke the water's surface.

Crashing down onto the hardwood deck Akeno hacked, choking on air, desperate to soothe the burn deep within his chest. However, the gurgle of trapped water prevented any mediation. Even with air all around him, It felt as though he was drowning. His chest felt encumbered. Panicked Midoriya gripped his shoulders and turned his friend onto his side. Rubbing and pounding at his back, finally liquid sputtered out with each cough. 

“Is he okay?” Tsuyu emerged from the water, leaping onto the ship, tongue wrapped around a squirming Mineta. 

“We need to get out of here, he needs a doctor.” Listening to his friends' short shallow breaths sent Izuku’s mind ablaze. Though he had successfully forced most of the water out, residual liquid still crackled within. 

Scared for not only his but also his friends' lives, they needed a plan.

“The pros will save us! Right? They’ll come and beat these guys up and we’ll all be safe.” Mineta panicked, the weight of the situation finally dawning on the perverse trainee. Conversing over exactly what had been said during the initial attack coupled with the situation, Tsu and Deku both knew waiting for the pro’s was not an option.

“We have to stop whatever these bad guys are planning!” 

Realizing the flaw in the villain's thwarted plan Midoriya formulated a course of action. Wrapped within Tsu’s tongue and flung through the air via the force of Midoriya’s flick, the group managed to fool and evade the attackers. 

Following the shore to avoid the peering eyes of foes swimming closer to the main plaza the exit was within sight. Akeno’s body trembled within his classmate's grasp, struggling to stand, and barely holding onto consciousness. Mr. Aizawa’s battle raged on, their teachers' struggle growing louder as the group approached. 

How much longer would he hold out? 

A sickening crunch echoed as a monstrous beast's fists crashed down onto their teacher's defeated body, his arms twisting into splintered fractures. Fear spiraled down their spines as the young students could do nothing but observe. 

“I can't watch this anymore.” Tears streamed down Mineta’s face as he clutched both hands over his mouth, trying not to puke at the gruesome sight. “We should be getting out of here super fast shouldn’t we?”

Horrified Midoriya glanced from his beaten teacher to his half conscious friend. The once confident persona adopted for escaping the ship now shattered. Internal conflict had him paralyzed. 

‘To be a hero you have to put others above yourself.’  

The mantra repeated itself over and over within his head. Though, what was he to do now? Two people needed him: Akeno and Mr. Aizawa. They were both in life threatening condition.

Yet… he could not bring himself to choose which one to try to save. 

“Oh, before we leave. Let's make sure the symbol of peace is broken.” In an instant the main villain lunged, barreling straight towards their group. “Let's make this hurt! You look too much like him, disgusting. Don’t worry I can fix that.” With a palm extended he advanced, mere centimeters away from Akeno’s face. The group's breaths stalled within their chest, unable to move...

Yet, he stopped, halting dead in his tracks. 

His once hate filled eyes glossed over, the red hue now dull and empty.

Mouth agape in shock Midoriya looked to the boy that clung to him.

Akeno’s head was up, his eyes staring towards the villain, mouth moving yet the words inaudible. 

“Leave us alone.”

Hushed whispers rushed through the air, directly to their target. Forced in and demanding obedience the command took hold. 

Backing away the villain retreated, up the stairs in a disconnected stupor until reuniting with the warp gate. 

“What the hell was that!” As Shigaraki’s senses returned, anger boiled within his voice, eyes wide and fingers digging into the skin of his throat. Nails raked over the bloodied irritated skin. “No, no,no,n-”  The slam of once sealed doors drew his attention away. 

The man they had been waiting for finally arrived. 

“Have no fear students. Why? Because I Am Here.”

Faster than the puny thugs could process, All Might swung into action. At last, the young heroes' fears came to rest as they watched the world symbol of peace dispatch of each and every evil doer within his path. Crossing the battle field within seconds he swiftly scooped a beaten Aizawa within his arms and grabbed the group of frightened children. The jarring motion of being flung around sent Akeno into a fit of hacking. His body heaved against the muscular arm, blood splattering against the white button up. 

Seeing his colleague and student so injured fueled Toshinori’s already raging inferno. Gritted into a tight frown, his teeth ground together. 

  ‘I should have been here; I should have protected them.’

“Everybody back to the entrance, take Aizawa and Akeno with you. They don’t have much time.” Again, plagued by indecision Izuku again looked between the injured men then back to his mentor. His intuition screamed for him to stay and help All Might, to fight by his side. Based on what Thirteen had indicated before training All Might must be near his limit, leaving him vulnerable. Yet his heart yearned to get them to safety. 

Once again, the decision was left in his hands, who does he try to save? Taking notice of his prodigy's indecision, All Might addressed him.

“Young Midoriya! I got this!” 

“Right.” At his master's words, Izuku tightened his grip around his classmate while Tsu held Mr. Aizawa, they ran away. Not fully assured the nagging thought of being the soul bearer of All Might’s limit and the danger truly at hand made up his mind. Seeing other classmates racing down to the exit he laid Akeno down.

“Tsu and Mineta, take Mr. Aizawa and Akeno to the entrance, I have to go back.”

“What? Are you crazy? We can't hold both of them! Besides All Might has this handled, we have to go!” Before the grape themed trainees' words even registered, Deku ran past them and back to the ensuing fight. 

The battle with the monstrous ‘Nomu’ had the man exhausted. Barely clinging onto his mighty form, All Might’s body trembled in exhaustion. All he had to do was stall and keep up the mirage.

Shots firing and the overly jovial voice of principal Nezu signaled his relief had finally arrived.

“I'm sorry ma’am but I can't let you in. The school is under strict lockdown procedures!” The police standing guard in front of the gates had attempted several times to reassure the grief stricken woman into leaving. Yet you refused. 

‘You have to! My son was in the attack! He could be hurt.’ hands quickly signed, yet they could not understand nor make an attempt to. Growing agitated they ordered you to back away. Even when attempting to mouth words of reason their resolve stood firm. 

The crackle of a speaker and flicker of a screen caught their attention. A small mouse-like creature's face lit the device. Principal Nezu’s beady eyes and smile stared down to them. His paws placed one over the other, a steaming cup of tea sat atop his desk. Analyzing the situation with a sip of his beverage, he addressed them.

“You must be Akeno’s mother. Please come in.” Metal unlocked and the screech of a singular entrance opening rattled through the once impenetrable wall of steel, an elderly woman stood within its threshold. Her wrinkled features offered a warm smile, as she ushered you in. Despite her cheery attitude the cloud of despair that formulated upon hearing the news refused to dissipate.

You needed to see him, to know that he was okay. 

“Right this way dear,” Leading you down the winding corridors, her syringe shaped cane clacked against the tiled floor. Its steady rhythm a direct contrast to the thunderous beat of your heart. Stopping just outside a door labeled as the infirmary your anxiety overflowed. Eyes watered as tears gathered on the rims and a few slipping by. 

Gesturing for you to wait she sighed, “I healed him as much as I could, but the boy needs rest. He almost drowned today.” Wiping away the tears you nodded, attempting a brave face yet your mind swam with regrets. 

‘He almost drowned? Almost died?! … We've been here less than two months and already he's had a brush with death. Was allowing him to come here truly for the best? What kind of mother am I for willingly putting him in danger? I knew the risks. How could I allow this? How could I…’

“Come.” 

Half of the room had been sectioned off by drawn curtains, blocking the other patients from view. Light whispers shared between the two males fell silent once you had entered. 

Upon seeing Akeno false bravery slid away and tears fell once more. 

Rimmed with darkness his eyes remained closed with heavy breaths as he slept within the white sheeted hospital bed. 

‘My baby’

Toshinori and Izuku laid beyond the thin curtain wall, both watching as the silhouetted woman stood before her son. 

A shadowed hand reached for the boy, tenderly stroking his cheek before her head bowed to rest against his. Rushed breaths and sniffles indicated her distress as she wept.

An endless pit of anguish at both the situation and himself opened within the older man's heart. Sighing he looked away from the scene, up towards the white ceiling, and an unbandaged arm fell over his eyes. Afflicted by guilt any curiosity regarding the young man's mother vanquished, weighed down with the burden of responsibility.

“I should have been there sooner.” His voice barely above a breathed whisper, more so a taunt to himself. Yet within the otherwise silent room it carried through. 

Your sobs stalled for a mere millisecond as recognition sparked fear into your aching heart. 

You could recognize Toshinori’s voice anywhere.

‘Not here. Please not here. He can't be here. Not now.’ 

Trying to muffle the ragged sobs your body struggled to stand. Hunched and breaking you held your son's hand, squeezing it tightly to stay grounded. Heartaching for both the man beyond the curtain and your beloved child, your mind felt hazy, far too many emotions swarmed within.

“Ma’am?” An unfamiliar voice called out to you. 

Peeking his head out from behind the curtain walls, Izuku had forgone Recovery Girl’s orders. Saddened and riddled with his own guilt he felt compelled to speak to the grieving woman. Your back remained turned towards him, yet your head lifted slightly in acknowledgment. “Akeno saved my life. He protected me and our classmates. You should be proud of him.”

‘Proud that my son almost got himself killed? Proud that I allowed him into this lethal field? Proud that my son… saved people?’

For a split second your head turned, facing the boy. ‘Akeno risked his life to save him?’ A bittersweet smile splayed across quivering lips. Izuku’s eyes widened, recollection though brief flashed within his mind. 

You looked familiar… 

Mouthing the words ‘Thank you.’ you turned back. 

“I thought I said rest!” Recovery Girl had returned. Infuriated to see her patient in direct violation of her orders, her cane raised ready to wallop. Slinging the curtain back into place Izuku rushed back into his bed, though his mind swirled in confusion at what he had seen, or at least what he thought he saw. Recalling his stockpile of memories in an attempt to place exactly where he recognized that woman from, However, the after effects of Recovery Girl's quirk had his eyelids heavy. Dropping down, mind clouded and unclear sleep took hold before he could reminisce further.

Sitting beside your son's bed you awaited his awakening despite the ever looming presence of a man you had vowed to forsaken mere feet away. Azure eyes opened, hazed and confused they glanced around the unfamiliar room before locking onto you. His mouth opened yet only strained groans escaped. Blond brows furrowed as he continued to struggle, croaking crackled words. Quickly raising your hand you signed; 

‘Don’t speak, you’re hurt.’ Nodding his own hands rose from under the sheets.

‘Did we win?’ A silent airy laugh escaped your lips, tears long since dried out. Rubbing his forearm with a soothing hand you comforted him with a nod. 

Though the lighthearted mood soon turned stern.

‘You almost died, Akeno.’ Eyes downdrawn he stared at the white bedding. Hands fidgeting for a few moments, desperately trying to find the right words, until they steadied. Blond brows furrowed and lips drew into a tight line. 

‘I did what I had to. To protect my friends.’ Sighing, you bent down, kissing the top of his forehead and ruffling a hand through his wild blond locks. Wrapping his arms around his mother the two embraced. 

‘I know and I’m proud of you.’

[mistymisfit]

RIP Jason Todd you would've loved the song Hounds of love by Kate Bush

[zhongrin]

bajsbdjs hi hello it's me, the anon who was complaining about childe always finding his way into my teams, and i come bearing great news:

i finally got alhaitham!!

i slapped on all the artifacts i prefarmed for him + harbinger of dawn (bc i don't have any good 5 star sword and he needs more crit rate) and wow. just. wow.

for context, my alhaitham is stuck at lvl 70 atm with his talents barely leveled up (only his e is up to level 3 lmao while his basic is at 2) and let me tell you, the way i CACKLED when i realized that not only does he absolutely shred all the bosses/camps i've thrown him at before his dendro infusion even ends, but he also kills the wenut faster than my childe (who has r1 skyward harp, 5-8-8 talents, and honestly better artifacts) does. i am on the floor, dying of laughter and honestly i don't think childe or i could ever recover from the fact that alhaitham outdps-ed the character who carried me through every boss, abyss, and domain in just one day.

to say that childe is pissed would be an understatement.

he's livid. he watches you dote and praise your beloved new dps, al dente or whatever his name is, spoil him with enhanced artifacts blessed by yours truly - a luxury he was deprived of despite his show of devotion for you, and just overall ignores him altogether when he's right there.

the brunette seethes when the newest addition to the team glances at him at hearing your detailed comparison, and he nearly shoots his hydro arrow in reflex when the insignificant vermin's eyebrows raises - as if mocking him.

oh, he'll show you.

he'll show you that he's stronger. better.

just like how he had always proven himself countless times on your journey.

at the end of the day, you'll come back to him again. he'll make sure of that.

[fishyvamp]

18+ NSFW MDNI CW: period typical homophobia and misogyny, child abuse, murder, angst (King Macmillan before his reign)

Prince!Trapper realized well before his adulthood that he wasn't attracted to the fairer sex. A fact that would eventually kill his father. He did try, did what he could even sneaking off as a teen to a brothel, paying some whore to touch him and show him their body, but it did nothing for him. The prostitute getting increasingly frustrated that she couldn't get him to finish. He felt broken coming home that night sneaking back into the castle with the help of Knight!Philip a nobleman's son he had known since they were both in nappies. Before even returning inside the castle he finds himself at ponds edge trying to wash the shame and guilt off his face. And that's the day he first saw you, eyes locking on to you from across the pond, you were just a squire then still trying to find your way into life in the court. A peasant who managed to earn their spot through merit.

Prince!Trapper's mind was a mess seeing you shirtless, cursing while cleaning your shirt not far from the barracks. His dreams that night were haunted by you, filled with impure thoughts of hearing you whine, feeling your warm skin against his own. Oh how he desired to run his fingers through your chest hair. He was terrified waking up seeing that he had made a mess of his sheets. It was wrong... And Everytime he saw you after he felt unbearable shame. Doubly so when you'd haunt him at night. Hearing you in his dreams mewling under him or worse he'd be mewling under you feeling the way your cock just slides right in and breeds his ass. The Prince's fingers desperately trying to stretch him open as he wondered how big you were.

Years passing, you were promoted to a full knight, and The nights where he pictured you dominating him were always the worst. He was the son of a mad king, a man so ruthless he hunted prisoners of other kingdoms for sport and wasn't afraid to imprison those of the court who spoke out against him. Prince!Trapper should want the same too shouldn't he? No he needed to want the same, the last thing he needed was to be weak like his late mother or his lily livered uncle. If he were to survive he'd need to be like his father.

Prince!Trapper tried to shake thoughts of you off, doing anything before finally surrendering deciding he should just talk to you, expose himself and remind himself that you are a man and it would be wrong to even entertain the thought. His mind blanking as he sees you in your unmentionables, worse yet you don't seem to care. His mind melting to mush feeling you reach out to calm him down when he begins to hyperventilate leading from one thing to another and somehow he's stripped bare kissing you; cocks rubbing against one another. He feels desperate in his rut against you.

Prince!Trapper came so easily coating your abdomen with his royal seed. Another shame, but he couldn't stop spending all night and into the morning enjoying the knight he had been craving for so long. You're too good for him; your touch too gentle, too caring it hurt. One and done he assured you both, but it isn't. He comes back time and time again your skin twitching and responding to his touch. He thinks he's being careful, but there is someone watching him enter your room, their eyes predatory as they report to the king about Prince!Trapper's transgressions and the king loses it, forcing you to watch as the young prince is kicked, maimed, and beaten within an inch of his life. You can't even intervene as you are shackled to the wall wrists aching as you try to break free and watch in horror as a loud crack rings out into the room...

Prince!Trapper isn't moving, his body stone still, blood oozing from his face and you find yourself weeping hearing as the king just walks away abandoning his only son for being weak enough to choose a man to be intimate with. Your head bowed as you cry thinking he was dead or the very least dying. Loudly sobbing you scarcely hear or noticed when a large hand landed in your lap squeezing hard. Telling you it's okay, you notice beautiful blue eyes staring up at, nose now crooked and bleeding profusely.

You both survive even if the king refuses to come back to see if the heir is alive. Eventually Knight!Wraith having noticed you both had disappeared came looking. He's horrified and nervous seeing you half starved and Prince!Trapper bloody and bruised cling to you for dear life. The look in your eyes are dangerous as the shackles are undone. For days you had feared the king would come back, but now...

Knowing what you must do you instruct Knight!Wraith to take the young prince to the barracks. He doesn't question as you stalk towards the king's room nor does he say anything come morning when the king was discovered mysteriously murdered in his own room. The only guard unaccounted for was you, but those accusations were dismissed when Knight!Wraith vouches that he found you half dead with Prince!Trapper. No one asks questions, the bruising on your body and the poorly state of the Prince is enough for them to know they don't want answers. Even as the King is buried and the prince is crowned King!Trapper. You beside him, his personal gaurd who never leaves his side. You job is to protect the King and to prevent any harm to befall him. You will never fail again.

Masterlist

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

so does the Abyss have a lot of plant life (specifically flowers)

because if not i think it would be really cute if giving a flower to an Abyssal monster was seen as a sign of courtship, and since they're so rare it's seen as something really significant (the difference between a crush-type love and wanting to stay together forever-type love)

and then there's you, who gave a flower to the Eleventh Harbinger Tartaglia in hopes of cheering him up and turned away too quickly to see the blush that tinted his cheeks or the sparkle that rose in his normally dull eyes.

the very next day, gifts begin to arrive at your door as Foul Legacy waits for you to respond.

[milks-thoughts]

summary: Raph takes in a child during the apocalypse (based on Mitskis “ I Bet On Losing Dogs “)

TW: death, it’s the apocalypse, swearing, wounds in detail, overall just angst

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲

Raph's the leader, he's the responsible one! Those words are ones Raph holds onto a lot, he makes the decisions. Leo begged him to take the leader position back after everything started, Leo couldn't handle it. But that's okay! Raph will always catch his little brothers. His tail dragged behind him as he filtered through abandoned streets, his red mask hugging close to his face and collecting the sweat that bubbled over his scales. he heard a noise and turned walking down an alleyway, there lay a corpse with a moving box- wait moving? Raph cautiously stepped towards the person and the box. His sais on the ready in case this was a trap, his group was busy ransacking another building. People were on the lookout so he was free to check this out. moving his sai to the box he opened a flap with the edge of one. Raph was expecting a kraang creature, an animal of some kind, hell maybe a cat. But not this a loud wail filled the alleyway, a baby's crying. He dropped one of his sais and was quick to grab the dirty cardboard box. lifting the baby out it was so small in his hands, clearly, it wasn't fed that much. his face immediately softened the babe's gentle body in his hands. it had stopped crying to stare at him curiously. Raph grabbed his sai he dropped and sheathed the two. walking out of the alleyway scouts turned and stared " Their mother was dead... " there were no complaints, everyone knows that shit will go down when they get back to base. The group moved slowly through Kraang territory eventually coming across the bunker. It was well hidden you needed one of Donnie's chips to open it, the best advancement for the resistance. Stepping in his group quickly filtered around him. At this point, you had fallen asleep, thank pizza supreme in the sky. One of the scouts sent him a look before walking off, April walked over to talk to him but he quickly walked past her. She blinked before folding her arms " Raph! get back here I gotta talk to ya " the woman had a bandaged arm and a tired stare. Raph paused in his walking " Raph'll be back! he just has to put something down first " she gave him a knowing look " Like a baby? a scout told us during the debrief " Raph scolded himself for not taking claims on the debrief. He turned a bit, showing April the little bundle in his big arms she sighed “ Raph, honey how are you going to take care of a baby? “ he looked down with a furrowed brow “ I dunno… “ April watched as the twins started coming out of the meeting room. They were too caught up in their own things and missed Raph completely . He hummed “ I wanna keep them.. “ April’s face softened “ that’s up to splints Y’know “ her hand rubbed at Raphs face eventually moving on when she heard Splinter behind her, sending one last glance towards them “ my son, “ he started gently looking at the much taller turtle “taking care of a child is hard. Are you sure you want to? “ all Raph could do was nod, his resolve firm. Splinter smiled “ Alright, I’ll be here to help you red. but you have to tell blue “ Raph groaned and nodded. Splinter smiled and walked away to his own space. Raph blinked as you fussed and whined. You were probably hungry huh.

Pizza supreme toddlers were rough. Luckily not long after getting you Casey had her kid, and of course he was named after her. You were a speed demon but, you tended to listen to the rules. The hardest part was trying to get you to stomach the military rations or dry vegetables. Raph was soft with you though, sometimes you did get mad at him. Like when you couldn’t join Mikey for his mystic training, that was your first tantrum. Luckily they were in a building so your crying didn’t draw much attention. The bunker has been getting filled more and more recently. Worse comes to worse they’re going to have to move, find a new spot in the hot earth. Since the oceans have started to go barren and empty the earth got so much hotter, it rained sometimes but even that rain was toxic. The Kraang have long impacted the earth. It’s a shame you’ll never be able to see them- Raph blinked at the tug of his pant leg “ Up! “ he blinked a few times “ whadda say? “ you smiled “ Up! “ he grinned and lifted you up, his hands reaching straight up making you fly almost. You happy giggled filled the room and stopped as soon as you saw April “ auntie! “ you called and mad grabby hands to her. Raph looked at Aprils expression and put you down “ Me and auntie will be right back okay..? “ you looked sad but sat on the bed, you heard a loud noise and walked to the tents door. Putting your ear against it you heard “ I’m sorry Raph- splints he- “ after that you just heard her crying. What happened to grandpa? sitting on the bed you waiting for the wailing to quiet down. you’ve never heard your father make that noise…you never found out what happened to grandpa

You were 10! your first time going out on a run. You had celebrated your fathers 34th birthday yesterday and you were so excited to find him a present, one from you. The last birthdays you’ve asked April or Leo to find something for you but you’ll find something on your own this birthday. The scouts and Raph lead the group through a pretty empty part of the leftover city, apparently they take this way if there’s someone new on the patrol, peaking into a shop, you strayed a bit and grabbed a snow globe “ woah… “ you whispered shaking it a bit, it was the before New York. The silence was filled by a cocking of a shotgun “ put yer hands up “ the rough voice told you, it was a gruff man with a straggly beard and a a face that made red flags go off in your head. You turned your hands still on the snow globe. He looked you up and down in a scary way. The silence was broken by your father calling your name, your knees buckled and you opened your mouth to call back when a loud bang filled your ears. What was that? pain shot through your stomach as you let out a shrill screech and fell dropping the snow globe in the floor, oh god that was your blood…Raph rushed into the store and his face paled. Oh please not his baby, anything but his baby. You gripped the shelf harshly a sob escaping you. You didn’t even register the man who shot you was put down by your father, not even him holding onto your stomach and begging you to be alright as he barked orders to get Leo out here. Why Tío Leo? oh right he’s the medic, that’s right. your eyes full of tears as your father pushed your hair out of your face with a bloody hand “ my baby, oh my baby you’ll be okay I promise “ he whispered gently to you, his eyes dripping tears onto you “ where’s your mask papa..? “ you asked looking down. oh, oh. there was a gaping hole in your stomach and your fathers mask was pressed into it trying to stop the blood that just got on his hands like a wet rag. “ it hurts papa “ was all you could meekly say, your brain felt fuzzy and the corners of a gentle sleep tugged at you, why was it so hard to breath? you were okay, your Tío Leo will be here any minute now. And papa will keep you safe, and you’ll wake up in the infirmary with Uncle Donnie and Uncle Mikey looking at you in relief. You felt your eyelids blink closed lazily your fathers voice saying this you couldn’t understand. you saw a gentle woman in your comforting rest, grandpa Splinter was there…you missed grandpa splinter…one visit wouldn’t hurt…

Raph clumsily pushed down on the wound “ my baby “ was all he could get out of his mouth, holding your body closed to his plastron even when Leo came to try and help you. Your body limp and light, he looked at the shattered snow globe and and wailed “ Raph buddy- I need to see them “ Leo’s hand tried to touch you and Raph growled at him. Holding your small body closer “ my baby’s gone.. “ he whispered out and watched as Leo’s face contorted into one of grief. His younger brother slouched onto his knees and let tears roll down his cheeks. Oh his poor baby, how could’ve he have let this happen? why wasn’t he there to catch you as you fell. he failed you.

[fatkish]

Hiii Could you do a fluff head cannon with all the mha pro heroes (aizawa,present mic,all might,mirko, And midnight) like little moments with child reader

Pro Heroes x Child Reader:

(Platonic) Fluff HC’s

Aizawa:

Snuggles with the reader all the time

Probably bought a matching sleeping bag for the reader

Has secretly put up their drawings in his office at school

Lets the reader sleep with him when they can’t sleep or have a nightmare

Will go through the house and make sure no villains or monsters are hiding before bedtime

Reads story books at bedtime or tells the reader stories about uncle Mic or his students

Would definitely have pajama parties

Would help the reader build blanket and pillow forts in the living room and sleeps in them

Helps the reader as best he can with their homework

Hizashi:

Most definitely has dance parties or plays music videos games

Bought the reader one of the children’s karaoke machines and cheers the reader on now matter how bad their singing is

Loves playing hide and seek with the reader

If the kid likes to dress up whenever they play then he’ll definitely help and tries to make the reader look like a mini him

Definitely bought the reader instruments like a toy keyboard or drums to let them explore music and see if they like it

Makes up the weirdest and silly stories for the reader’s bedtime

Helps the reader with their homework by making a game of it or making it entertaining

Has pictures and drawings from the reader all over his desk and office

All might:

Dad jokes 100%. Will tell all kinds of them no matter how lame or stupid they are

Plays pretend and has the reader be the hero who defeats the evil tickle monster

Tries to cook food with the reader like baking cookies or making their own homemade pizza. Has had to try to keep the reader from eating all the ingredients when they were younger

Carries the reader on his shoulders and will toss them in the air

Definitely tries to introduce foreign foods to the reader such as classic American dishes like an American hotdog or apple pie

Tells the reader stories of his hero days when he was younger or his experiences overseas as bedtime stories

Helps the reader understand their homework and shows them how to do it before letting them try if they’re struggling

Let’s the reader wear his shirts since they’re so big on reader and he thinks it’s cute

Proudly shows pictures and the reader’s drawings to his coworkers

Mirko:

Definitely cheers on the reader whenever they play Heroes and villains

Will definitely give actual advice on how to fight a villain

Has morning yoga sessions with the reader to help them increase their flexibility

Would most likely play wrestle with the child

Reader has a bunch or Mirko merch and has all the limited edition items thanks to Mirko

Recounts stories of the villains she fought that day as bedtime stories or makes some up

Tries to help the reader with their homework and will hire a tutor or ask another pro to help them if possible

Definitely has the reader’s drawings in her office and proudly displays them for all to see

Probably has a trampoline and teaches the reader how to do cool jumps

Midnight:

Loves going shopping for clothes with reader

Will definitely play heroes and villains with the child and be the villain

Would also pretend to be a civilian in need of saving

Helps reader design their ‘hero’ costume

If the child can’t sleep then she’ll use her quirk to help them sleep

Will read story books to the reader and tuck them in at bedtime

Helps the reader with their homework by referencing the problems to things they already know or that they like, for example: with math, Midnight will use visual references like pieces of candy to help the reader understand addition and subtraction

Has bought so many stuffed animals for the reader, their room is basically filled with them

[fluff-n-cookies]

What would make All Might give OFA to his daughter?

I don't think so.

THINK ABOUT IT THINK ABOUT IT.

all might went through pure TORTURE to master it, and is he gonna let his sweet baby girl go through the same pain AND be hunted down by AFO like shimura and the rest of the weilders of OFA were?

NO. NEVER. NOT IN A THOUSAND YEARS

but Izuku might if you ask him nicely.

and I know that Toshinori is trying to hide it as best as he can.

but one night when you were 8, he came home in his (big? muscular? weird neck ?) form and dear lord, you screamed so loud I'm pretty sure you broke a glass.

anyway, you threw your princess tiara at him RIGHT IN THE STOMACH WHERE HIS INJURY IS.

so now AM is groaning in pain in the front door, the neighbors are considering filing for child abuse, You are calling Tsukauchi back at the police department (because of course AM told you to call him) crying over the phone because someone that looks like daddy but isn't and now has your princess tiara and has the necklace you made him for fathers day, and Tsukauchi CALLS ALL MIGHT TO TAKE CARE OF THE SITUATION AND IT"S JUST ONE BIG WHEEL OF STUPIDITY.

so Tsukauchi gets to your house and finally understands what happened and took all might to the hospital and while he's there he explains one for all and once all might gets there hes just met with this tiny menace of a reader who's all pouty and refused to talk to him since he kept a very BIG secret from her, and at this point he's on his KNEES begging for forgiveness.

thank you for sending in a request, this is my 3rd time writing from an ask!

[tonycries]

Corpse Groom - G.S.

Synopsis. Till déath do you part…or does it when a déathly error leads your newly-wedded husband to be from beyond the gráve?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, CÓRPSE BRIDE!AU, arranged marriages, period-typical mísogyny, Naoya is awful, accidental marriage, ángst, major character(s) déath, HAPPY ENDING, talks of déath, kníves, poíson, reíncarnation, Gojo YEARNS, he loves you sm I cried, hándjobs, fíngering, spítting, cúmplay, BRÉEDING, creampíes, mentions of having kids, pússydrúnk Gojo, overstím, oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 12.7k (ohoho)

A/N. K!nktober isn’t over until I had to make a rewrite of my favorite Halloween movie mhm <3

“Mother, I refuse-”

“Nonsense, child!”

That sharp snap! of your mother’s feathered fan is loud enough that the whole carriage rattles on its hinges, creaking you noisily to what seemed like your very doom. 

You gulp when she’s tilting her head down as far as her best, high-collared gown would allow, eyes narrowing. “The Zenin’s are the only nobles left in this wretched town, and I will not have my daughter marrying some commoner.”

The unsteady cobblestone pathway jostles you in your cushioned seat ever-so-slightly, a pertinent little reminder of that fact.

In the deafening silence, your father pipes up - ever-the-pacifist, “Now now, why don’t we all calm down, especially before such a glorious wedding.” But his words wither out into nothing but a whisper in the simmering tension. “Like your mother said, dear, the Zenin’s are a good family, with a uh-” Coughing nervously, “-good son. We just want you to be taken care of.”

As if that was the only thing.

But there was no use arguing. 

Facing back to the gray window with a sigh, and you can only whisper. “I’d rather die than marry Naoya Zenin.”

---

“With this hand-”

“Louder.”

“With this-”

“More passionate.”

“With this damn hand-”

“Not a threat.” The older woman in front of you wrings her satin gloves, turning towards your fuming parents with a tone that matches their expression. “Honestly, I know that you new money people find it hard to adjust but this is our special tradition! My poor baby Naoya is going to be heartbroken tomorrow.”

Dutchess Zenin had a cruel sort of beauty to her, high cheekbones, and cutting eyes that picked apart every fray at your dress - the spitting image of her son.

And her “poor baby Naoya” was currently finding it impossible to hide his smirk. Swiping away invisible dust from the velvety-clad shoulder of his overpriced suit, he sets down his wine bottle from the vows.

“Don’t be too harsh, mother.” Naoya’s smooth voice comes out in a dangerous purr, and you jolt when one of his strong arms slither around your waist. Possessive. “After all, it’s this one’s face that’s what’s important.” 

God, if it weren’t for your parents’ pointed looks you would have shoved this overly-perfumed bastard away from you and bolted through those high doors faster than you could say “I do.” 

The Naoya Estate was as beautiful as its occupants could never be, brutal, looming architecture intended to make you feel smaller than you were. All those high cemented pillars, plush furniture, and gleaming chandeliers spoke of exactly what your parents wanted - power. 

It wasn’t the sort of home you’d like to call your own, but then again, you didn’t have any choice in the matter. 

“My deepest apologies on behalf of my daughter, madam-” your mother’s gritting out the words, painted lips curling ever-so-slightly towards the end with a bitter taste. “-or should I say, co-mother-in-law? Ah, come now, we might as well be family already, right?”

“Sure.” Dutchess Naoya turns, arching a needle brow. “Might as well, thanks to your family assets- if your daughter doesn’t make a joke of the vows, that is.”

The wisened officiary standing at the altar nods solemnly towards you. “Do you even want to get married tomorrow, young lady?” No, you want to answer, but bite back. “Zenin house traditions dictate that the mark of a good wife is one to follow the vows to its every syllable.”

You wince - and your features sting where they’d been perfectly stretched into a plastic smile. Your next words come out small, strangled in a way that makes your future husband smile. “I apologize, I know how important these vows are, and I’ll- I’ll do better next time.”

“Good.”

With a click of Dutchess Zenin’s fingers, a hushed, swirling piano melody fills the hall once more. 

Your wedding ballad. 

Something that Naoya had prattled on and on about being an esteemed tradition in the Zenin household, a tender tune to accompany their sacred vows. Modeled after the long-lost royalty of this kingdom, and this was the closest you’d get to a taste of it. 

It was your one initiation into power - saying those sweet, special promises - and the one thing you found impossible to get right.

“-for I will be your wine.”

Shit.

You didn’t even realize that Naoya had polished off his own vows, before you jolt at the hefty weight of wine being poured into your cup. 

And you could practically feel the burning stare of every eye in the room. Watching. Waiting. 

You’re fighting against your intricate corset to gulp in a deep inhale of the stale, thickening air. Clearing your throat ever-so-slightly, you raise the hand holding onto his wedding ring. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Y-your cup will never empty-” Fingers tightening around the silver goblet in your other, your breath hitches at the bile rising to your throat already. “-for I will be your- your uh- wine.” 

In the corner of your vision, you could spot Naoya’s smug smirk already. You could hear his tiny “As if you have any other choice.”

You knew what he was thinking.

That whisper is enough to make your jaw grind, your hand clench in a way you’d been taught by your mother not to - in a way that she’d unfortunately forgotten to tell you was for the cup’s sake, rather than your own.

Because it only takes one harsh squeeze before it just bursts.

Red, red wine trickling all down your wrist, splattering onto the gauzy curve of your gown - but more importantly, onto Naoya’s crisp suit. 

It bleeds through the velvet in thick smears, seeping into the fabric as if catching on fire. Only staining further and further with each second he’s flailing frantically to wipe it off. 

“Shit- My apologies- oh, shit-” you’re gasping, but there’s no one paying enough attention to tell you off for your unlady-like profanity right now. Body moving before your mind, you snatch some of the officiary’s papers from him, “Wait, it will only get worse- let me-”

Only to forget what was in your hands.

Honestly, if this was any other time you would have laughed watching the rest of the wine nestled safely in your cup come gushing down onto whatever was left of his unmarred suit - every single inch. 

It’s chaos.

Then it’s silence. 

Every single breathing being in the room can only watch as the last few crimson droplets drip! drip! drip! onto Naoya Zenin’s lapels.

Wordlessly, you look to the aghast officiary, your stony-faced parents, and finally, your gaping fiancé. You’re the first to speak - to hold back your chuckles, more like. “I- I cannot apologize enough…”

“You- you witch! This was on purpose, wasn’t it? Do you know how much this custom suit cost? How it was worn by the late highness himself.” Naoya’s screeching, voice shrill. Pointing a finger accusingly at you, it would be menacing if it wasn’t for the big, fat droplets of red dripping from his angry features. More of a drenched cat than the gentleman he pretends to be. “Remember that I’m doing you a favor by marrying you-”

You cross your arms, struggling to keep composure. “I shall reimburse-”

“-and acting all haughty as if you were from the royal family itself.” he’s frantic, mouth running a mile a minute. Tugging at his wet strands, “And my hair, oh my beautiful beautiful hair-”

“I shall reimburse the emotional damages, too!”

Dutchess Zenin tackles her son into a soothing embrace you find almost comical, granting you with a venomous glare that you were sure if looks could kill, she’d be lowering you into your grave and waltzing over it with Naoya already.

Simpering, “It’s quite alright my poor boy, this wedding cannot take place! We can find another-”

“No no no- no, I still want to marry her-” His greedy eyes sweep your trembling figure up and down, “Doesn’t matter if she’s an unfit wife, I’ll fix her up-” You’re quirking a brow, “Swear I’ll marry her and fix her up into-”

THUD!

You’re throwing the cup remaining in your hand as hard as you can, hitting Naoya right in the bullseye of his chest. And as soon as the air leaves his lungs, they leave yours too - in a stubborn, infuriated hiss, “Well, I’d never marry a spoiled, pompous brat like you.”

And with a flick of the stray beads of wine on your fingers at his face for good measure, you lift your heavy skirts as scandalously far as they’d travel to dart out of the door.

Out of the winding corridors. 

Out of the Zenin Estate. 

Ignoring every call of your name, every arm reaching out for you - urgently following your feet wherever they took you. Honestly, you’re so busy gasping in deep lungfuls of the cool, fall air embracing you that you’re half-surprised you only crash into a few people on the streets. 

Again. And again. And again and again, yet never stopping. Afraid of being followed by Naoya. Or even worse - your parents.

You barely even slow down until your tailored shoes crunch against gray snow, eyes taking in lines upon lines of towering trees in front of you. Tall, towering. Weaving their branches with the sky - ominous, almost, against the steadily darkening night creeping its way in.

The forest, you’re realizing with a gasp. Have you really come this far? 

Taking a glimpse over your shoulder at the twinkling lights of the town in the distance, you think of the vows that were waiting for you, and the town rumors you’d definitely sparked. Well, a walk to cool off wouldn’t hurt…

And despite wanting to relax, your thoughts only churn with each step. Replaying the scenes from earlier over and over and-

“And your cup will always- fuck- they probably think I’m such a fool.” you’re spitting, kicking at a pile of snow. “Fuck Naoya and his vows, fuck that stupid wine, should’ve shoved it up his-” 

Just then, a sudden gust of fall air puffs up against your ear, sending goosebumps careening down every bit of your exposed skin. You shudder sharply, hands shovelling for warmth inside your gown’s pockets, “Ugh, today’s such a horrible-” Only to cut yourself off with a gasp- “This is…”

You feel for that metallic cold again, hastily pulling out that solid, silvery ring. Meant for Naoya Zenin.

Admittedly gorgeous, an intricate band with a delicate sapphire embedded in its middle. Your mother had spent months tracking down the best jeweler in the country to forge a ring that even the Zenin’s would be impressed with. 

Fit for a king.

You scoff, “An unfit wife, my ass. It’s not even that difficult.”

Still feeling highly insulted, and only slightly embarrassed for it, you clear your throat. Speaking clearly into the stiff air, “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Determinedly you stride your way into the middle of a slight clearing, “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

Grasping a stray branch, you mock lighting the altar candles. “With this candle, I will light your way in the darkness.”

Before setting down on one knee - customary for the groom, yet feeling so right when you gaze down at a tree root sticking up from the blanket of snow. Poised like the prettiest of fingers at the foot of a towering oak.

“With this ring,” You’re sliding it down easily as you would have to onto the man you hated the most. “I ask you to be mine.”

.

.

.

You don’t expect the sudden shift. 

You don’t expect the wind to pick up, you don’t expect for a murder of crows to materialize from the midnight darkness and crowd on a tree right behind you. Letting the tree root slip from your fingers, you whirl around - what- a storm?

But before you can think of any answers, that withered branch shoots further out of the ground. Barely giving you a split-second to jump backwards before cupping your cheek, gently. 

And you could’ve sworn that one twig glides across your cheek - just the way one’s thumb would have. Like the softest of lovers. 

Gasping in fear, you fall backwards, splaying out into the uncomfortably bone-chilling snow below.

You can only watch as the tree root twitches once. Twice. And your ears thunder with the high-pitched howls of the wind, and a sudden, booming bang! bang! bang!

Shit. 

Your eyes widen, it was coming from under the ground. 

The ground that was splitting open before your very eyes. 

Wider. And wider. Like something was baring itself before you. Something was clawing all the way from hell, that tree root only surging up, up, upwards in a long, limb-like fashion. Branching out into five fingers that dig their way into the ground. Hard. 

And if you didn’t think you were about to faint from just this - you were definitely on the verge of it when the fingers lead their way into a forearm, a shoulder. Miles upon miles of skin - a person, towering above you, silhouetted by moonlight.

He looks at you with sapphire eyes. Close. 

A man.

Beautiful. 

Whispering, “I do.” Nose to cold nose, thick white lashes fluttering shut. “You may now kiss the groom.”

---

You’re barely half-awake when you realize that that was probably the strangest dream you’ve had in your life. 

Groaning, you rub blearily at your eyes - yet, through the bursts of stars and pounding flashes of headaches, all you can think about is him and his chilling lips on yours.

Soft, like a leaving lover.  

Even in your most feverish of dreams, you’d never conjured up anyone so ethereal. Tall, powerful despite the almost-sickly air about him, and the deep circles underneath his gleaming eyes. 

But so gorgeous - sorrowfully so. 

The image burned permanently into your mind, like your most favorite of memories. Every tiny detail down from the almost-blinding reflection of the moon against his cloudy hair, to how that illuminated his soft smile - that tiny dimple at the corner of his pert, pretty mouth. 

You remember how he wore a wedding suit, the kind that nobles these days wouldn’t dare touch with a six foot sword with how it looked centuries out of fashion. Stark white, with fine silver detailing down the velvety fabric for you to admire.

How ironic, somehow, the thought made you sad.

But most of all, you especially remember the way he looked at you.

Just like he was right now.

“Ah!”

“Now that’s not usually the reaction I- fuck!”

He was real. So painfully real.

And clutching his face where you’d claimed a swat at one of high cheekbones.

“Ouch, my wife has a real good arm on her, huh?” Blinking back the haziness in your eyes, you catch sight of that same summer blue gaze, eyes crinkled slightly at the ends. Tender, despite being attacked by you less than a minute after gaining consciousness. “Though, I love a strong woman.”

“New arrival! Looks like we got ourselves a breather-”

“Looks like she fainted, is she alright? You know we can’t keep her long-”

“Can I touch her? Looks so soft~”

White - white fills your vision, too-late are you realizing that you’re being pressed into the soft coat of his chest. Inching you away from a hulking, four-armed creature, he mutters, “She’s my wife, you curse.”

“What-” It takes you a few more seconds to finally find your voice. In those moments you look up to take in his boyishly pretty features - about your age. Human, had it not been for that otherworldly faint blue pallor. “Is this a joke? Where am-”

Choking on your words as you take a sweeping look around the - tavern? Realm? It looked like the very same one in your own town, except bright. Musical. Everything that your home wasn’t. Finding faces you could never imagine looking at you - some beautiful, some mere skeletons, all taken out of your wildest dreams. 

And all dead, it hits you with a jolt. 

Yet, somehow, you’ve never felt safer in his arms. 

“Something wrong, my love?”

You pinch yourself, “I need questions- now.”

“You mean answers.” One from the pub crowd scoffs - a towering man, handsome. He’d look ever-so-ordinary if it wasn’t for the completely skeletal arm on his left side. And of course, that same death-like serenity. “Honestly, Gojo, you picked an airhead or what?”

The man that still held you - Gojo, you assume - whines in protest, “Shut up, Toji. I’d always love her regardless- and she said her vows so perfectly.”

“I did…” you breathe.

Shit. 

Shit shit shit- you did.

Cocking your head, you ask. “Who are you?” 

He’s rolling his eyes, gifting you a crooked grin of pearly whites. “Your husband, obviously?”

And before you can pinch yourself again to make sure you weren’t dreaming, and that last time was a fluke - or perhaps smack him again - Gojo shows off one slender hand. Naoya Zenin’s ring adorned proudly across his ring finger. Your ring. With your vows. 

“So…” you let out a giggle of still disbelief. “You’re the tree-”

“Not quite but-”

“Oh! I love this story- could make a skeleton cry.”

“Heh, yeah yeah sing it, king of curses.”

“Please don’t.”

“You see, welcome to the Land of the Dead, doll.” A man with pink hair sets down his drink to throw one of his four arms around your shoulder, much to Gojo’s chagrin. Words dripping with taunt,  “N’ lemme tell you the story of our lovely corpse groom.”

You’re dragged along through the crowded, eerily lit tavern, everyone jostling each other to better get a look at you. Poking and prodding, some even gasping at the feeling of your thundering pulse. 

He hums, “Here we have a pompous prince known miles around-” And you could tell him and Gojo had already known each other long, with how he was toying with the other man. “-fell hard and fast for a cute lil’ peasant girl much like yourself-”

“Sukuna, stop it.” Gojo grits, jaw clenched. 

“-but, alas. When dear ol’ dad the king said ‘no’, he jus’ couldn’t cope. So our dear lovers came up with a plan to elope-”

You’re thrust into the arms of an attractive blond man, almost half of his entire face held together with stitches and bone. Heaving out a sigh in a way you could very much feel akin to, “Meeting up late at night is always a stupid plan, even with all the wine and riches for the road. You might not need much when you have love, but you never know what’s lurking. And, well, on that dark night, our prince here paid the price.” When you look back at the white-haired man his eyes seemed significantly softer, if that was even possible. 

Toji’s the one by your side this time, “Poof! Dropped dead as dust waiting for his dear girl, no evidence, no body, no bride. What a crybaby he was when he arrived. Didn’t even want to stay here-”

“-because then he made a promise to wait upstairs.” Another man - with such gorgeous, long hair makes himself known this time. Forehead littered in strange stitches, as if it’d been opened and fixed many, many times. “And waited and waited asleep for one hundred years to this day until out of the blue, you came along, sweetness. The lovely bride, to our corpse groom.”

You. 

And Gojo looks at you like he can’t look away.

Lone, standing there with his arms open as the story tapers out. Waiting. 

Until you came along.

---

“HERE YE, HERE YE…FUTURE BRIDE OF ZENIN HOUSE SEEN LURKING IN THE FOREST WITH A MYSTERY MAN– now for the weather…” 

“What?” your mother hisses at the bellows of the local newsman, well, rumor-spreader, more like. But he’s never been more useful than now. Sneaking an urgent glance at the stunned Dutchess Zenin by her side, she elbows your father, “We come outside to search for our daughter only to hear this? How could we let this-”

“Maybe it’s a ah- slow news day?”

They’re interrupted by a sudden, sharp clearing of one’s throat - dripping with the distinct tone of condescension that only a member of the Zenin family could possess. “We are one bride short for the wedding tomorrow. What a scandal!” 

“Ah!” she’s gasping. Waving her hands frantically, “W-we promise we’ll find her before the wedding-”

“You better.”

“No.” Naoya Zenin’s voice was brimming with something dangerous, an eerie, steady lilt of determination to it. But he’s not even looking at anyone in the group, eyes trained firmly on the woody entrance to the forest in the distance. “I’ll be the one to find her.”

Finally, something that seems to appease the huffing matriarch.

Only leaving her sullen son with a nod of approval, “And Naoya…” She makes sure the other two bothers were out of earshot, greedily scurrying back to the warmth of the Zenin household. “Remember, the ah- family funds are drying up. Hurry.”

---

Gojo Satoru, you learn, was as nervous about this marriage as you were.

“This is where I always visited after first dying.” he muses, ice-cold fingers wrapped snugly with yours as he guides you gently through various crooked stairs and skeletons of town. “The view takes my breath away- well, if I could breathe, that is.”

You’re startling out a laugh that has both of you surprised, and he turns to you with such breathless awe. 

“Beautiful.”

“What-” your eyes widen - and you don’t know whether it’s from his sudden little compliment, or from where you two had finally stopped walking. 

A steep cliff, overlooking the entire, vast town of multi-color lights. The rigid structure from where you came could never compare. Complete chaos. But as pretty as those paintings you read about in books, views you never thought you’d see. 

You rest your hands atop the spindly barrier surrounding the very edge, marveling. “It is beautiful…”

“It is.” Gojo’s tone is rich, and his eyes never stray from you despite all else there is to drink in. It takes you a few moments of counting all the bustling figures in the distance before you finally mount up the courage to meet his hypnotic gaze. 

Gojo jolts when you look his way, as if he wasn’t expecting it. Hastily, he flusters to pat down the sides of his suit - tattered at places, patchy as if once-pristine but ruined with age. He’s smiling once he ruffles through his breast pocket, pulling out something glinting.

You’re letting out a tiny gasp when he shows off a silver, heart-shaped locket. Intricate, obviously custom-tailored - you’d never quite seen anything like it. Positively beaming with all the shine that the rest of him had lost. 

Treasured. 

“It’s for you.”

“What?” Your jaw falls slack in shock, pushing away Gojo’s held-out hands. But he was ever-persistent. “Please- I can’t, that- that looks like it should be for someone precious.” 

“And it is.” 

This was the firmest you’d heard his sing-song voice, and at your slightest split-second of faltering, he snatches the opportunity to circle his hands around your neck. Deftly clasping it from behind, Gojo only smiles, soft pads of his fingers lingering at your nape. “I’ve had it for years.” You wanted to know exactly how many years that meant. “Consider it a wedding gift~”

Your own dust over the cool metal pendant, heart lurching. “If only you let me know about our wedding in advance, I would’ve gifted you something, too.”

“Heh, you don’t have to.”

“Do too”

“Do not.”

“Do too.” You cross your arms, boring your eyes into his. “I’m not going to be an unfit wife.”

There’s a second of silence. 

One.

Two.

And at this point, you half-expected your parents and Naoya’s to just burst from behind the nearby stairway to tell you this was all some elaborate test - before Gojo just explodes in peels of cackles. 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I- hah!” he’s barely able to wheeze out, wiping away stray tears of joy. “You never change, huh-” 

It takes the embarrassed tapping of your feet for Gojo to finally straighten back up to his tall figure, muttering out a few more indiscernible phrases underneath his breath. Clearing his throat, “Now who said you’d ever be an ‘unfit wife’, sweetheart- Y’know I really didn’t believe Toji’s airhead comment but- oh-”

You land a half-hearted punch solidly in his stomach - and usually, you’d think twice, thrice before acting this familiar with anyone. Even then, you wouldn’t follow through underneath your mother’s watchful eye. 

Ah, but you’ve never smiled harder when you claim. “I think I won our first argument as a married couple.”

“Oh, can you do this f’me when I have an argument with Sukuna, next?” Gojo chuckles, wiggling his brows. 

He has to dodge your playful hand a few more times - well, he would have had to. But he’s taking them all gladly, pulling you by the wrist to press you flush against his chest. “But fine, you win. Maybe as a wedding gift we can consumm- I’m kidding I’m kidding- follow me, I have the perfect idea.”

And you couldn’t not come with him, with the way that Gojo was eagerly dragging you through the town plaza and back into the now-empty tavern, where you’d remembered had a grand piano nestled away.

Gojo’s pulling out the seat for you, before promptly taking his own flush beside you. Nudging you with one of his shoulders, he starts up a beautifully haunting few lower notes. Delicate. “You don’t have to play, you can listen if you’d like-”

“Hey, I know this one.” you’re gasping, eyes lighting up with the recognition of that familiar somber from the Zenin house. But something about it this time felt so right. 

Before you know it, your hands are moving faster than you can hold them back, joining Gojo in his sweeping melody on the higher notes. It rings in the air around you two, jostling your body up against his. 

“You know it.” he breathes, such a brilliant grin making way onto his pretty features when you two continue your little duet. And you swear you could hear him suck in a sharp inhale before playing even harder on the keys - a challenge.

And you were never one to back down. 

“Heh, you’re not half bad-” But his own little boast gets cut off by Gojo’s half-skeletal wrist snapping off, twiddling up, up, up the grand piano and on its merry way around your shoulder. “Pardon my enthusiasm, my love.”

You help him reattach it back, an interesting quirk of being half-dead, you suppose. “I like your enthusiasm.”

There’s a slow, stuttering silence that echoes afterwards, and you’re shivering from the slightly cold bite of the underground. Gojo wraps his full arm around your shoulder this time, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that he was still bone-cold. 

“How…” he gulps, barely meeting your eyes. “How did you know that song?”

But you couldn’t tear yours away from him, “Oh? That song? Well- before I uh- married you, I was actually engaged-”

His pretty lips fall slack, “Oh…”

You’re not sure why you hasten to explain yourself, “B-but he was a prick- and I threw a wine cup at him just before coming here.”

“That’s my girl.” Gojo winks, and you’re feeling your skin heat up.

“Anyway, this song was to be played at the wedding. So my mother made me memorize every single note- she failed to tell me it was a duet, however.”

“It was.”

Something about those two words comes out breathless, barely hanging on. And you’re biting your bottom lip ragged before the question escapes you, “You were engaged, as well? Before- as a prince- I mean- oh, forget-”

To your surprise, Gojo only chuckles - deep voice breaking ever-so-slightly at the very end. His fingers glide across the piano with a familiar sadness that you can’t quite pinpoint. Chest rumbling, “Well, it’s just as the others said. We were meant to run away together, but your dear ol’ husband here died just before we could.” 

You’re swallowing the lead that’d seemed to piled up heavily in your throat, still afraid to push too far. “And the- the bride? What happened to her?”

“I…don’t know…she probably saw I wasn’t there and went back, had a happier life with a more deserving husband- children, even.” He looks towards the perpetual night sky, Adam’s apple bobbing heftily. “It’s funny- today’s a hundred years since that day.”

Something hurt. And your chest churned at the thought of him waiting and waiting in the darkness for years. For someone.

“You loved her?”

He looks at you - really looks at you - and then down at the gleaming locket. “I love her. And I made a promise, I wait for her - in life and death.”

Something really hurt - and it wasn’t just that hollow, aching burn in your chest. No, your head was now throbbing with such a splitting pain that you can’t help but grab your temple with a yelp. Eyes scrunching shut with tears, trying to down out that drilling thrum. 

“Shit-” you’re hearing, foggy, like it was in the distance. “Shit shit shit-” Big arms wrap around you, “Are you alright? Shit-”

The swinging pub doors slam-

“What happened?”

“The bride from upstairs-”

“She’s still here?! She already dead or what?”

More and more voices are joining in - and you’re not sure if you’re thankful that they drown out that harrowing thunder of blood in your ears or angry that they’re making it ache more deafeningly in response. 

“Please- space.” Gojo’s stern command rings across the plaza, for a moment of clarity you’re thinking that he’d make the perfect leader of sorts. The perfect prince. “My wife needs space, and you all will leave-”

Nanami’s strict tremor was distinguishable anywhere. “What she needs is to go back upstairs, Gojo.” Another pair of rough hands grasp your shoulders, and you hear a growl from above you. “With fresh air, with her kind. I don’t know what fantasy you’re playing out but she needs to be back with the breathers, down here isn’t good for her.”

“But-”

Just at that unfortunate moment, your head wracks with another painful burst, making you cry out. Clinging onto Gojo’s soft jacket for dear life. 

“But she’s my wife.”

Everyone goes quiet. 

You were sure he was crying now, and oh how badly you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But, instead, Gojo’s the one soothing a hand down your back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deep, grounding gasps by the chain of your locket, “N-nanamin’s right- we- I have to get you back.”

Your eyes shoot open, “What- no-”

“It’s for your own good.” Pressing a slow kiss to your forehead, “Trust me.”

“But-”

“Please?”

---

Gojo Satoru had spent so long in the darkness, that he’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.

Even more so when you were by his side. 

“Oh…” And despite not having a beating heart, he swears he could feel it racing at the crisp scrunch! of freshly fallen snow underneath his polished shoes. Arms immediately wrapping around your waist, twirling you to him, “How I missed the beautiful upstairs.”

You’re giggling, batting your lashes up at him. “Well, you’re not doing much sightseeing right now, are you, Gojo?”

“Please.” He rests his icy forehead against yours, waltzing you slowly around the clearing. Your first dance. “Call me Satoru, I would like to part ways having heard my name on your tongue once, than not at all.” 

And ah, it hurt him more than that dull, spreading pain of death to simply see your expression crumble. Lower lip wobbling when you whisper, “Do we have to?”

It’s as if that tiny tremble in your voice jolts him back to his senses, and he’s letting go of you as if you burned. Turning his back so that you won’t see him swipe underneath his dampening eyes, “We do.” he nods solemnly. Still gazing out through the barren trees, the snow breaking in. “But I would…if you’d like- I would really like you to say my name just once.”

Nothing - not one of your quipping insults, not even one of your sweet, sweet giggles. Gojo could barely even hear that shallow breathing of yours. 

“My love?”

Nothing.

Gojo whirls around, “My love?”

Nothing. 

---

“Let me go let me- go-” you spit, voice dripping with a deadly growl that should decidedly not be used in front of your future in-laws. But you didn’t give a fuck right now. “I will never- ah-”

Unceremoniously, you’re thrown like a mere debris in front of Dutchess Zenin’s gold-tipped boots, hands splaying out against the cool marble to dredge up some ounce of balance. You look up into her burning glare, hissing, “I will never marry your son.” 

But it’s like you’d never spoken at all.

She’s turning to Naoya, stood proudly behind you, holding back his snickers. “Ah, my son-” Reaching her arms around to brush off the soft pattering of snow down his coat. “-I see you’ve brought your wife back.”

“Of course, mother.” he’s humming. “Had to walk all throughout that crummy forest until I saw her-” At this, he’s turning towards your parents, who could only watch from the sidelines. “-with another man no less- well, can’t quite call him that if he didn’t even see his woman being dragged off into the dark.”

Dutchess Zenin cackles,and the sound makes you grit your teeth. “That other man is my husband-”

“What?” 

It’s your own mother speaking this time - eyes widened. Fuming. She comes up to you in a few urgent, sharp strides, grabbing at the now-torn and frayed edges of your gown. “What nonsense are you speaking-” Sneaking a glance at your father, “Our daughter seems to have lost her mind, dear.”

He’s just a bit more gentle - cautious, almost. As if confronting a cornered wildcat when he ruffles through your pockets for the ring. Finding none. 

You’re wrenching yourself away, “I’m fine- but father, listen- I was practicing my vows in the forest-�� Every eye was on you know, and oh you’ve never felt more of a spectacle. “-and I put that wedding ring on a tree root- and it- it came alive and oh- he was a groom. A beautiful corpse groom-”

“That trip to the forest must have bogged up her mind- yes yes, she must be imagining things.”

“Of course, but the wedding…poor dear-”

“The only thing she’s good for is the money.” Dutchess Zenin gruffs, tired of hiding her disdain. “And maybe a free trip to the hospi-”

“The wedding will take place.” Naoya cuts in gruffly, snapping his fingers at a nearby attendant and pointing at you. “Call the officiary, and as for my future bride, I don’t care if you must force her into that wedding dress, I don’t care if you have to drag her here - she will marry me one way or the other. Now.”

It’s like you’re a puppet - their puppet. Being rapidly walked and bathed about, dolled-up in a white, silken wedding dress that you could never see yourself standing in next to him. 

It fits you like a glove, attuned to your body as if it was made for you - and you almost hated how beautiful it was, adorned with tiny silver inklings and the most delicate of lace. Made with too much love to be borne out of this dreary household, but when you turned to ask your jittery handmaiden about it, she’d only cryptically answered about “the dress being with this family for a long, long time.”

No one here seems to give you answers.

Or grace.

Or anything but locked windows that you crack a nail or two attempting to open and flee and a long, decorated aisle to walk down to your future husband. Naoya. 

Your throat tightens when you’re stepping back into that hallway - now flourishing with bouquets of blue, blue baby’s breath, and twinkling candles. It was almost colorful, for this town, at least.

You shudder out a teary sigh when the tender piano starts up again - the exact same tune you’d played with Gojo. But cold. And suddenly, you’re realizing that you never asked him how he knew the song.

“Pssst! Walk!” Your mother’s high-pitched hiss is enough to snap you out of your little reverie, glassy eyes snapping up to look at her urgent signal to hurry up.

And so you walk, but not to the one man you wanted to.

Naoya’s smirk lies as smugly as ever when you take your place beside him at the altar, poised, and perfect in his pressed suit, his glinting sword. Whispering snidely from the corner of his mouth. “Smile a little, it’s a wedding after all.”

You keep your gaze trained firmly on the officiary starting his speech, “Perhaps in disappointment, we are perfectly matched.”

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this bride in holy matrimony-” Gesturing a wrinkled hand at Naoya, “You may begin first.”

He raises his hand in a solemn oath, razor eyes boring relentlessly into yours. Voice dangerous, humming. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” This time, he was pointedly the one to pick up that cup on the altar table - a steady, unbreakable metal this time. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” 

Your trembly fingers wrap around the bottle of wine, starting to slowly pour. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty for I- I will be…”

Shit.

Shit, you can’t do it. 

Your words struggle to come out, and you could burn in the sheer anger already wafting from Naoya. 

“I will- I will be-”

“How scandalous to marry an already-married woman~!”

The gasp that echoes throughout the hall is almost as deafening as the booming crash! of those towering, mahogany doors being swung open. Clattering against the walls so hard that your teeth chatter with vibration - but you didn’t care. Didn’t even feel it because you’re too awe-struck by what was standing in front of you.

Or more accurately, who. 

“Satoru!” The tears are falling hotly down your cheeks, you barely have the patience to lift up your layers upon layers of gauzy skirts before stumbling your way into his arms at the very end of the aisle. Ready. Ever-loving. Catching you easily like he’d been waiting a hundred years for this very moment. 

“I thought you left me waiting.” he breathes.

“I would never- and- and you’re here.” 

“Mhm–”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “How did you even know where to find me?”

“Our duet- there would be no other but this house that would know it-” He wraps his arms even more snugly around your waist, white locks tickling your nose. “And you did promise to lift my sorrows, what type of husband would I be if I didn’t do the same?”

“You. You- What- what is the meaning of this?” Dutchess Zenin’s squawk tears through your little moment, she’s whirling into a furious stand, fists clenched. “Married woman- husband? You’re dead!”

Gojo remains calm, sapphire eyes narrowing, “I am.”

But the ever-composed woman you’d feared for so long was now running her mouth a mile a minute, half-ripping out chunks of hair in frustration as the officiary held her back from storming her way towards the two of you. 

“You’re dead you’re dead you’re dead-” she screeches, and even Naoya could only watch with his mouth fallen. “You’re dead- my family made sure of that-”

She stops short, mouth opening and closing in a gasp until you breathe, “M-made sure?”

“Yes-” She’s fighting against the hold, still muttering to herself maniacally. “Shit- we made sure to- oh god why- do we have to kill you all over again! Your wretched Gojo royal family is wiped out- I still- I still have the power, the riches- All because we left you-”

“For dead.” he whispers. You’re too shocked to gasp - to do anything but look up at his reaction. “But she came back to me.”

“Her? This one- Once more you found that insignificant little-”

And at this very moment, Naoya just bellows in a guttural scream, everything his mother was restrained from doing with how he’d closed the gap between you two in a few urgent seconds. One hand wrapped roughly around yours, “I don’t care- You forget she was engaged to me first.”

“She’s still my wife.” Gojo spits. 

“Not if you’re-” Naoya’s unsheathing his sword haphazardly. Swinging. “Dead!”

Schwing–!

It would have been sure to hit you. 

Would have been sure to gravely injure your side - if Gojo hadn’t deftly moved himself squarely in front of you, that is. The sharp blade slicing right through his ribs - yet, he still smiles. “You forget I already am.” In one, fluid motion tackling the sword to holt at its bejeweled hilt - pointed right at Naoya’s chest. “Let go of me and my wife, before you join me.”

It’s silence.

Silence and the smell of fear. Sour, and saturated when Naoya’s stepping away, one unsteady foot after the other-

“I will ruin you as my ancestors have, Gojo brat-”

Dutchess Zenin.

Your body moves before your mind - before any form of thinking, as if on instinct. Yet, you already knew what was coming. 

And soon enough, you’re standing in front of a stunned Gojo, face splattered with the red, red wine in her silvery cup. Drip! drip! dripping down your stained lips and onto the marbled floors. 

But something about it tasted bitter. 

Different.

.

.

.

And all of a sudden - you see dark.

“Poison! By gods, the wine was poisoned!”

“How will the wedding go on?”

“No- no no no I just wanted to her sick- to get her will–shit-”

“My love---listen----hear--me?” 

In the foggy distance, you could hear girlish, high-pitched screams that sounded strangely like Naoya’s, and the familiarly dark chuckle of- Sukuna? Sounding ready to pounce on fresh meat. “Heheh, new arrival - and some unfinished business, huh?”

“S’Toru–” you’re whispering, eyes blearily. Heart cold. Suddenly, everything about you was cold. And the only thing you could register right now is the fact that you were still in his arms - always was. “Toru- am I- where am I?”

“You’re here, sweetheart.” he gasps, big fat tears splattering onto your face. The only sense of warmth that you could feel, other than the one in your no-longer-beating heart. And you can’t help but wonder - can a heart be broken even when it stops beating? Because he was living two deaths now - his own - laying there poisoned with wine so long ago on the forest floor, with only the Zenin’s to watch, and you to wait for him much later - and most importantly, yours. “You’re- you’re here, with me.” He places a sweet, sweet kiss onto your lips. “Rest now, I’ll wait for you. I promise- I promise.” 

And through your hazy vision, the only thing that you could quite see was that silver locket you’d never thought to look through, out of fear - sprung open. Baring two grainy, clouded portraits - as good as a photo. 

Of him 

And…you. 

“I’ll always wait for you, in life and death.”

---

“Hey- Toru–” your voice rings out in Gojo’s favorite song, peering curiously at the boyishly grinning prince. “Do you think I’ll be an unfit wife?”

He throws his head back with a cackle, peering through his long lashes from where he was resting his head in your lap. “What- no? Whatever makes you think that, silly girl?”

You’re settling yourself further down the young oak - your favorite little hiding spot ever since you’d introduced your secret lover to it. Grumbling half-jokingly, you thread your fingers through his soft, snow-white hair. “Well perhaps because someone refuses to help me do anything in preparation for tonight-”

“Shhh!” Gojo’s bringing a finger to his lips, glancing around over-dramatically. “You never know when my father will be jumping from behind the bushes.” At your amused laughter, “N’ besides, doesn’t matter if we’re going to elope, I’m not letting my wife pick up a thing.”

“What- no-”

“I’ll snag my wedding suit- and that specially-made dress for you heh- and get the attendants to sneak out some leftovers from the banquet. The Zenin family has just gifted some wine I know you’ll love.” 

Craning his head to press a slow kiss to your forehead, “We’ll drink, we’ll say our vows- you better have memorized them this time-�� And another on your nose, “Then I’ll have you drunk in another way~ ow! Okay okay- don’t hit royalty–! And run away to our happily ever after.” Then, finally, lingeringly on your mouth,“Trust me.”

“But-”

“Please?”

You’re fiddling with the chain around your hefty, heart-shaped locket with a huff, finally caving in. “Fine- but then-” Deftly unclasping it, “-you have the responsibility of keeping this safe, too, I have to teach piano to the little ones in town again today, and if anyone catches me with a piece like this I’ll be hanged for thievery before ever getting married.”

“Our duet?”

“Our duet.”

He twirls that delicate pendant around his fingers, brows scrunching in half-seriousness. “I’ll protect it with my life-” Almost flinging it towards the end of the clearing in his haste to salute you, “Ah- pardon my enthusiasm, my love.”

“I like your enthusiasm, dummy.” you’re rolling your eyes at his antics. “But what if I’m late? The music lessons always take so long…”

“Just meet me here at our place - promise I’ll wait for you, of course. In life and death.”

You never did find out if Gojo Satoru waited for you.

You never found him that night - running late to the clearing, only to be met with no sign of him. Not that night. Not the night after. Night after night, you waited for him - watched as the Gojo royal family fell and the Zenin’s raided their palace, as the town started to grow and you stayed the very same.

With stray hope, even in your final ages, waiting for him and the marriage that won’t take place.

Not for a hundred years.

---

You’re waking up remembering the feeling of those cold, cold lips on yours. 

Finally, remembering.

“Sa-Toru-” you’re gasping, gulping in heavy lungfuls of air before you realize - you don’t need it anymore. Eyes startling open, you wince at the even the dim, heady lighting overhead. “I’m…”

“Dead.”

His words are gentle - just above a whisper, as if anything else will scare you off. But his words have the complete opposite reaction, in fact, you’re reeling him in so close by the silvery lapels of his weathered jacket. Wedding suit meeting your wedding dress.

You feel over his broad chest, and then over yours. Breathing out in awe, “I- I really am dead.”

Gojo’s wincing, running the soft pads of his fingers down your scalp. Massaging, “How- how do you feel, my love?”

Too-late you’re realizing that you’re splayed out on what seems like a plush, engulfing bed. Blankets upon blankets of velvety fabrics covering the surface, like someone had tried their very best to replicate warmth. 

“I think I feel…” you’re muttering, the very corners of your painted lips turning upwards at the way that Gojo was hanging onto your every word. Pretty mouth dropped into a soft oh! eyes wide and true. You just can’t help but drag him into the tightest embrace your joints could possibly handle. “-that I haven’t spent enough alone-time with my husband.”

He laughs - he laughs and laughs like he hasn’t before, like it’d been bubbling up in his throat for years and finally set free. 

“Oh, my love.” Gojo reveres, pressing a trail of hot kisses down the side of your face. Lingering in a languid lick where big, salty tears of yours were welling up. “We have all the time in the world- I just- just- do you remember?”

You’re pretending to think, leaving him careening at all your minute expressions. Finally cracking, “Of course, I remember- all of it, dummy-” Swatting his chest, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He’s gulping heavily, “I always knew that- that it was you the moment I saw your face- you look exactly as you did. Exactly as beautiful as the day I lost you, after all.” Cupping your cheek, “And oh, sweetheart, what a blessing it would be to marry you. But how could I ever tell you when you didn’t even remember me? How could I so selfishly ask you to throw away something so dear as life for me? Even for a promise?”

“I would have done it.” you’re pouting, brows scrunching. 

“Exactly.” 

“I waited for you, y’know. For years, until my death. No ‘deserving husband’, and no children.”

He gasps a tiny, meaningful gasp. And for all how Gojo loved to run his mouth, right now he only presses a sultry kiss to your forehead, “But in this life, or the last, or whatever comes next-” On your nose now, “-I’ll wait for you. Always have, always will.” Finally - yearningly - on your mouth, “In life and in death.”

Gojo kisses you like he’s been waiting a hundred years for it - and would wait a hundred more before he can again. 

Pressing one, two. Three steamingly hot, open-mouthed on your spit-glossed lips before moving to trail them down the underside of your jaw. Dragging his raw lips in a messy glide, he’s tittering when all it takes is one sudden bite at the soft spot on your neck to get you to jump. 

“Heh- you never change-” he murmurs into your heated skin, licking down the sting with a slow spread of his tongue. 

“T-Toru–” you’re managing to gasp out despite his relentless attack on your mouth. Making him wrench out such a pained grunt when you pull his face back ever-so-slightly to look into Gojo’s eyes. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Gojo can only cock his head in confusion, gaze still half-lidded and locked on your lips. 

“You’re forgetting your promise from all those years ago–” you’re dragging out in a honeyed-tone, giggling at the way his hulking body squirms impatiently. “-to consummate our marriage.”

And oh.

Oh, Gojo Satoru feels he’s dying six times over already. 

He feels like his bleary head is about to go into overdrive - as was the sudden tightening in his pants. 

“W-well then…” he’s rasping out, voice so ragged, dipping into a husky baritone that for a second you almost don’t recognize it. Two of his long fingers cup your face once more - rougher this time, making your lips squeeze together into an almost-embarrassing oh! “Open that mouth f’me, my love.”

You barely even realize it when you do - not until Gojo’s spitting a thick, translucent wad of his syrupy saliva right onto your lolling tongue. 

Nodding smugly when you’re taking him all, he’s swiping the curve of his thick thumb down that purposeful splatter on the corner of your lips. Because you knew the prince of a nation should have perfect aim, you knew he just liked seeing your dewy eyes flutter. 

Whispering hoarsely against your lips, “I ask you to be mine.”

“Yes-” you’re whining, your hands scrambling down the decadent fabrics of his suit. “Yes yes yes- please- n-need more, Toru-”

And the sound of that cute lil’ nickname you’d made for him in that sweetened tone makes Gojo’s entire body wrack with a violent shudder. Head throwing back, white lashes flickering shut- “O-oh, shit- shit you’re gonna be the death of me-”

But whatever little joke playing on your tongue just dissipates when Gojo’s shedding his outer coat off slowly. Bloodied, silken jacket hitting the ground- bloodied? You’ll have to ask about that later.

And then his mouth is on yours again - teeth clashing, tasting metal, his pretty lips wrapping around your hot tongue to just suck. Lazily, like his favorite candy. 

“So beautiful-” his words puff out in a feverish pant. Chest huffing - no, heaving - you can only keen when you feel something so hard and massive nudge up in a gentle kiss against your high. “So perfect–” The sodden curve of his achy tip dragging in a wet smear down your leg. “So mine.”

As soon as you’re blinking your dazed eyes back open, you’re hit with what looked like miles upon miles of Gojo Satoru. Curving muscles sitting prettily and casting shadow in the low lighting - it made you just drool. 

Shit, when did he even take his shirt off?

“Heh, already so needy, sweetheart?” He kisses up the glossy trickle, groaning into your mouth, “So cute–”

But, of course, you weren’t exactly one to be pushed around, either.

With a low purr, you cup that bulging tent right in-between his muscled thighs. Fingers skimming over inches upon inches of his girthy, solid shaft - he just gasps. “O-oh, you little minx- do you enjoy p-playing with my hngh- sanity?”

With a snicker, it doesn’t take you long to smudge the pads of your digits at that thickly spreading pool of precum. Glossing a thin sheen all the way down to your wrists with how fucking greedily he was throbbing at your touch. 

“F-fuck-” he’s hastily clearing his throat as soon as it breaks off into a pathetic whine. Hips bucking forwards in mindless, staggering gyrations into your hand like Gojo didn’t even realize what he was doing right now. “Fuck fuck fuck- honey, I-”

The neediest little grunts spill from his puffed-up lips, and he’s moving urgently - hastily, when sitting upright to all but rip that bejeweled belt off of his slender waist. Tugging his white pants down, down, down and-

Oh. 

“Fuck, Toru.”

Gojo was so unfairly pretty - all of him.

Even every single inch of his long, thick shaft, smeared with glistening precum sobbing out from his fat, round head. Blushed darker than the rest of him - matching his innocent cheeks right now. So hard it looked painful. 

Twitching over and over in saturated gushes coating his prominently throbbing veins, his tight balls. Your fingers. 

Wrapping tight around his flushed base, he was so incredibly big that you’re worried your fingers wouldn’t even close. Scratching up against those drenched tufts of cloudy white at his toned pelvis, the sight is enough to make you gulp. 

“Yes-” Gojo’s rasping, head thrown back because shit did it feel good to have your pretty lil’ fingers all wrapped around him. Hips stuttering up, up, up- “Yes yes yes- c’mon- c-c’mon my wife-”

Shit, those words spilling from his lips are enough to steer into such a loud moan, and he’s letting his jaw fall unhinged. Jaw-droppingly powerful back muscles flexing when he falls into a hunch, kissing wetly at your lips. 

“Tighter- squeeze ah, squeeze me at my tip-” Gojo’s babbling, drunken eyes so thoroughly locked on where you were pumping your fist back and forth. “Y-yeah hngh- and glide your thumb over just—”

You’re swiping the very tip of your thumb underneath that sensitive slit of his, the slightest touch enough to make him bawl out in a dripping sheen of precum. Reddening even more, his hefty girth in your hand jolts sensitively. 

“S-s’this–” you stagger out, wrist aching when you’re moving it faster. And faster. Ears ringing with the sloppy fap! fap! fap! of your fingers clenching around his thick, circular girth, the splatters of precum it’s forcing from him. Kissing gently down his burning shoulder, “S’this good, Toru?”

And god, how dare you even ask that?

With a sudden groan, he crashes his lips into yours again. Addicted. Growling against your whiny mouth, you’re flinching at the nip of his sharp canines. 

“Oh, yer perfect-” he’s blinking back big, fat tears from behind those glassy eyes. And the soft plane of his palms dance ravenously down your body - all your curves, your dips where your wedding dress was hiking up. But most importantly at your sopping wet cunt. “-so so- p-perfect- any harder n’ m’gonna make ya a pretty momma right now, right here.”

His words come out a burst - a beg. 

In that very heady moment he’s just bullying his thick digits past your soaked pussy - absolutely useless with how fucking translucent it was. Sticking to your sopping wet folds like a second skin that he wanted to rip off. 

“S-so oh!” Sucking in a sharp gasp at the sight of that tiny lace wrapped around his fingers, “Such a pretty cunt, wearin’ such a dirty lil’ thing, naughty girl- who was this for?”

And you couldn’t dare bear to wrench your lips open, to meet that dark glint in Gojo’s gaze. Hooded, such a slow, leering grin growing all over his face when the seconds tumble by. When your softened fingers falter around his length.

“Who was this for?” he’s echoing. “N’ no lying to your h-husband.”

“Toru-”

“Tell me, my pretty wife.”

“It was-” you’re mewling out, choking on your tiny confession when he slides his index solidly down the drippingly wet purse of your swollen pussy lips. Puffed-up and sensitive against where he was rubbing that cool metal ring against them. “-w-was for ngh- N-Naoya- but it was Dutchess Zenin that made me-”

Oh, but fuck - it didn’t matter who made you wear those sinful panties. 

Because it’s only taking Gojo Satoru a split-second to crane his hot mouth downwards and bite down on the very hem of your saturated panties. Biting the edge of your skin only slightly - before just tearing the fabric off with his very teeth. 

He takes a few seconds with his greedy gaze boring into yours, crazed. Canines bared glintingly around that tender lace, he just groans. 

Eyes rolling to the back of his head before spitting it out - and kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. 

“H-hngh, Toru–” you’re moaning, your fingers half-cramping up with the way they were turning around his swollen cock. Swiveling around the heated bumps of his sensitive spots, the drag of your nails gently down his veins make him shiver. “Feels so- ah!”

And ah, for how much Gojo loved those saccharine sweet moans in your ear, how much he loved teasing you - he was hungry. 

Shoveling all the way into your gummy channel, until your puffy pussy lips were kissing his very knuckles, gushing out in spurts of wet slick down his wrist. Twirling those cold digits, so stark against how toasty you were inside. 

It made Gojo’s thickened tip twitch in your fingers, huffing out a humorless laugh when he was easily knocking against that bulbous bullseye of your g-spot. Pressing down. Hard. 

“Mhm—” he’s purring, nosing down the tender crook of your neck. “Tell me how it feels- hngh- gotta tell me- fuck oh fuck don’ squeeze me like that- ah-”

He’s just wrenching out the most dripping squelches with each rummaging pump into your melty cunt, your walls were just molding around his digits. Sucking him back in like you’re trying to milk out something delicious- fuck, how he wished this was his achy cock right now, instead.

Gojo’s biting down hard at that magical spot on your neck, sending shocks of electricity down your sluttily arched spine. “Can’t- hah- can’t take it anymore- shit- needa be inside you soon. Needa fill ya up soon.”

And he didn’t even have to tell you - you could feel it. 

Building up and up with every relentless such of his glistening fingers. Glossy. 

“Need to make you mine-” he’s gasping, heatedly. Tone cracking on almost a bawl, his hips are fucking into your hand like his little cocksleeve, up all the way from weepy head down to thwack into his pulsing base. Fingers bumping messily into his taut, twitchy balls - making Gojo’s mouth water. “Need to- hngh- need to make you cum! Please-”

Tears crinkling at the very ends of his doe eyes, after every single crash along your sweet spot. Thorough wet glides. “Please please please-”

And it’s whispered over and over like a mantra when you’re cumming - again and again, so hard that you didn’t even realize you’re reaching your high before your tight pussy clamps around his fingers. 

“Yeah- yeah yeah, cum all over my fingers.” He’s thrusting his fingers in and out so rabidly, hitting all your forbidden spots. Free hand pushing apart your quivering thighs even further, “Spread wide- heheh, yeahhh–”

Those sudden slurps sounded so thunderous in your ears, and your maw sags open deliriously in a higher-pitched ah! ah! ah! Grinding your hips down over and over in needy swivels, using him. Music to his ears, making his staggering erection just weep so dangerously- but he can’t cum. 

Won’t cum just yet. 

Not until he’s fucked you through each and every one of your peaks, not until your convulses are tapering out into nothing but tiny tingles. 

And then he’s dragging out his ruined fingers from your sodden cunt - out, out, out. Snapping delicate strings of the mess he’s made of your poor pussy, before pushing them through his lips rawly. 

“M-mmm-” he’s rumbling from the very depths of his broad chest, pecs heaving. And through your half-lucid gaze, you’re spying a silvery dribble of drool down the side of his lips. Moaning at the sweet, sweet taste. “Shit- shit, sweetheart-”

You can’t even react before he’s then spitting a steady stream of wispy saliva down to your sloppy hole, swirling it around with one of his thumbs. 

“Better let her know m’coming back for seconds later.”

You whine all brattily, your hips arching into the perfect buck upwards - which only makes him grin. “Heh- my greedy girl, if I waited one hundred years ya can wait a few seconds.”

It’s so admonishing - and Gojo has never told a bigger lie. 

Because he’s the one that’s so painfully impatient right now, angry cock spewing out a few more velvety waves of precum down your gleaming palm. A low string of profanity rips from his throat, and he’s just diving his hands around every inch of your body he could reach.

Deftly untangling those tedious ties at the back, “Damn these little- forgot how many ribbons I fuckin’- ordered-”

In split-seconds, you’re being flipped over with one fluid push of Gojo’s biceps, sinking your front into the royally soft mattress. You felt like you were in heaven.

“Toru–” you’re whirling your head over your shoulder to admire just how much his biceps flex. Twitching with each eager rip down your bodice. Shaky fingers tightening on the silken sheets, “H-hurry up-”

“Easy there, my love.”

It’s ragged, breathed hotly against your ear, and suddenly Gojo’s resting every bit of his body weight on top of yours to pin you down helplessly onto the bed. Holding your squirming hips captive onto one rough hand attached to them, “Arch jus’ a bite more- please- fuuuck like that yeah-”

He’s taking the opportunity to fling your wedding dress down easily, bunching it somewhere towards the corner of the bedroom - right alongside your bra and inner layers. 

You’re gasping - stunned. 

“Don’t l-look at me like that, I’ve had one hundred hah- years to practice this exact moment with my hand n’ imagination-” 

And then Gojo’s gasping, he’s snapping his eyes open, he’s heaving out the most whiny call of your name when you push your hips back in a wet slide against his painfully hard cock. 

Your folds smacking wetly against his shaft, dragging in a dripping trail along his veins - and shit, Gojo really underestimated how fucking hot you’d feel against his cock. How readily awaiting when his slender hips rut down in a furious push and pull. “This is long overdue.”

“Hey!” you jut your spit-sheen lower lip out when he’s rudely smacking away your hand from the clasp of your locket. “Wha’s that for?”

“Keep it on.” Gojo nips at your earlobe.

And then he’s spitting you open - he’s pushing in. 

Inch by fucking inch of his swelteringly hot cock being shovelled into your gooey cunt, stretching out your snug walls to their limits. Pulled taut. Barely giving an apologetic kiss to the side of your head before Gojo’s circling one big beefy arm around your hips, easily tilting your entire body upwards for him to surge his hips even deeper. 

He gasps, he shudders at the faintest of your wet clenches. “C’mon-c’mon c’mon c’mon- a-ah- you can take it please- please take it f’me.” 

How could you not?

Because every one of his tiny, shallow grinds just to fit in have your mouth dropping further and further open cockdrunkenly. 

“Please-” your hands fist at the plushy pillows, the headboards, craning behind at Gojo’s neck. “Fuck me h-harder, Toru- I can-”

“Ohhh- you play a hah- dangerous game.” He swipes away the stray hairs on your forehead, kissing at your sweat-slicked forehead. “My beautiful bride- my beautiful, beautiful bride - ah- almost makes me wanna m-make you more.”

Just that split-second of sultry shock is enough for Gojo to push in fully - all the way until your thighs sting with the sudden thwack! of his hefty, cum-filled balls, your folds kissing up against his thickened base.

He’s hissing when his achy, rounded tip recoils ever-so-slightly against the spongy mess of your cervix, hitting it relentlessly in harsh jackhammer. Spearheading his fat cock to massage up against all your sensitive spots in a more dizzying way than even his fingers could. 

“Wh-what do you m-mean-” They’re falling from your mouth as hastily as Gojo can pump you stuffed full of his cock. Not even easing into it, starting up a sloppy cadence. “-b-by–”

“Awww, don’ hngh- p-push yourself, my love–” he’s simpering out. But oh his hips were speaking a completely different language from how soothing your husband’s tone was, one hand curling deftly around your throat to reel you in even harsher in sudden swats against his ever-pushing hips. Twirling around the chain of your locket, “What I mean is…”

Both of your half-lidded gazes are downturned to where he feels for that tiny nudge at about halfway down your stomach. Drawing an imaginary line about halfway through, before splaying down all five digits. Hard. “-that m’gonna make ya a pretty momma as well as my pretty wife.”

This little confession is followed by a particularly hard slam! from Gojo’s end, and you dart your hand out to grasp desperately onto the wooden headboard. 

Crying out, “Is- is that even possible, Toru?”

But the only actual response that Gojo can give - that he thinks himself capable of giving right now, with how mind-numbingly your pretty pussy was milking any rationality out of him - is a breathless chuckle. His head throwing back with a whimper, brows knitting together. “I don’t know hah! Haven’t got a fuckin’ clue- but that doesn’t mean m’not gonna fucking try–”

And he was fucking you into the mattress just like it, well and fully intent on breeding your tight cunt. Jostling the locket at your chest with rough, reckless abandon. Every sodden drag down your slobbery walls having those dreams from a lifetime ago about your happily every after playing through his mind.

You, with your drooling pussy painted all white with his potent cum, making such a mess of him that he just has to do it all over again, of course. 

You, all round and glowing - full of him, his heir. 

You, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes - another, tinier set held delicately in your hands. His hair, and your smile. Everything that he’s ever wanted in life and death. 

Stupidly. Pussydrunkenly. 

“Oh oh-” Gojo’s groaning, the sudden bump of your fingers against the sensitive curve of his balls making him jolt back into his reality. His heavenly, heavenly reality. “Aww, have I b-been neglecting you, my love?”

No, you want to scream - but you can’t. 

Because he’s only hiking up a powerful thigh to pressurize his harrowing rams with even more power, and you could feel every flex and ripple of his washboard abs. The spatter of pearlescent beads of sweat setting in with fatigue. 

But Gojo wouldn’t listen in the first place, couldn’t even think of anything that didn’t stem from his achy cock pummeling into you. 

Messily, he’s swiping at those fingers of yours that were currently reaching for your angrily puffy clit, aching for more more more- 

Giving a mean little smack onto where your sensitive nub was drenched in all your sweetened juices, it sends bolts of electricity all over your body. Clinging your gummy walls around his girth so tight. 

“This what y-you wanted?” he rasps by your ear, drawing slow, determined circles on the very peak of your clit. And when that doesn’t have you crying out all prettily for him the way he wanted - Gojo just tugs. Unapologetically. “Tell me- ngh- tell me how it feels, fuck- can feel this cunt gettin’ so soaked-”

“Yes-” you’re sobbing out. Hips now aching with the burn of pushing back into his unrelenting hips - it hurts almost. The sting of his skin against you, the hard collision of his fat head against your cervix. But you want more. “Y-yes feels so good, Toru- need more hngh- need you t-to…”

“What?” he’s spitting. Wild. “Tell me, sweetheart- please- please-”

And, hell, Gojo Satoru wanted to hear so badly that he’s just slowing his hips down every so slightly to let you catch your breath. To answer. 

But what he was actually blessed with was another one of your long, drawn-out whines. Grumbling ever-so-slightly as you jolt your hips back with every one of the thorough swivels of his fingers on your clit. Toying. 

Fucking back harder than ever into his rock-hard dick, the locket just slams it’s cool branding onto the heated skin of your chest-

“Need you to f-fill me up-” you mutter wetly, nothing more than a few gurgles wrenched out when his clashing head French-kisses your g-spot. Drawing wet glides of his steamy precum down it. “-make me a hngh- m-momma, Toru-”

Oh, this might just be his third death ever. 

Because the bed creaks riotously with every one of his ragged rams, in a way that made you glad for the ever-present music of this town. 

Over and over.

“Yeah- shit, gonna make you a p-pretty momma-” he’s babbling away, a mile a minute. So sloppy that you’re barely able to understand what Gojo was saying. “Fill you- up- ngh- so they’ll look at you and see me. All me- all pretty and r-round- me me me- oh—”

Right now, Gojo didn’t give a fuck if his little dream was even possible. He didn’t give a fuck if his moans were turning into whimper, staggering thrusts trudging into the sloppiest of grinds. The neediest. 

Because right now you were cumming. 

That rapid throb of your clit increasing twofold when you’re finally plummeting into your high, wave after wave of pleasure that he fucks you through with heavy pound after pound. 

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, toes curling, flashes of white flitting behind your firmly shut eyes. Fuck, it felt so good. 

And your fingers clench hard around where they were still firmly stationed on the headboard to keep at least an ounce of your sanity. Intertwining with- Gojo’s when he slams his hand down hard enough that the entire bed shudders. 

Or maybe that was just him - because so was he. 

“F-finally-” Gojo’s hiccuping, angling his head just right to be able to catch your pretty lips in what could barely be considered a kiss. Just a sloppy suck of your tongue while he pumps you snugly full of sloshing loads of his cum. “Wan’ed this for- so long- finally hngh- consummate- you- most beautiful ah momma-”

His whines were nonsensical at this point, only growing more and more so with each velvety ribbon of cum being poured around into your tight pussy. You could feel it swashing about your soft walls with every one of your hard, convulsing clenches, painting your insides over and over again in a second, sticky skin of his seed. 

“Yeah- fuck fuck fuck, yeah Toru- hah- m-more-”

And just when Gojo thought the almost-painful clenches of his heavy balls were coming to a close, just when he thought his thick streams of voluminous cum were stretching out into thinner wisps - you have to go and say those syrupy sweet words. 

Fuck. 

He’s gasping, locking his finger with yours even harder on the headboard, “Gonna- ngh- gonna be the death of me I s-swear–”

Oh, and then you looked at him with that fucked-out smile of yours. A sight he’s gifted to see. Humming, “In life and in death, r-remember?”

Bang! 

The headboard crashes down onto the floor. Your back is hitting the now utterly drenched sheet below you before the realization hits you. 

In nothing but a split-second, Gojo pulls out his dangerously twitching cock to manhandle you flatly onto your back. Swiftly, he throws your legs over the curvaceous deltoids of his sculpted shoulder, easily bending you down, down, down into half.

Into the meanest mating press possible.

Dredges of thick, hot cum just ooze down your sopping slit, spreading in a milky circle underneath you. And slobbering down Gojo’s swollen hilt as soon as he plugs himself back in - immediately.

The very divot at the end of his cock quivering - for only a split-second before bursting out in streams of more and more cum. Overflowing. Overspilling out of you.

And he can’t help but glide an open palm over that tiny inflation beginning to form where he’d drawn a line just earlier. One hand pressing down on it hard, the other tweaking at your clit to make your walls clench. 

“Oh f-fuck yeah–” Gojo stutters at the glossy coating of his own seed all around him. Reveling in the toasty feeling again and again until his poor, overworked cock can only sputter out wispy strings of nothing. Shooting blanks. “Gonna breed ya- make ya all round and and- ngh full until you c-can’t take anymore. Until we hahh- have that happy ending y-you wanted.”

You mewl when he’s licking away those glistening tears rolling down your cheeks, “-happy ending w-we wanted hngh- Toru–”

“Yeah-” he chuckles. Pecking at your lips with that salty sweet taste on his tongue, “We wanted. It’s why I didn’t reincarnate like you, my love, unfinished hngh- business here s’to spend a long, long and happy marriage with you, y’know?”

You bat your lashes in sweet disbelief, “That’s- that’s mine, too.”

Ah, he reels you in even closer into his arms. Snug. Ever-loving. Seemingly like he’d never let you go ever again - couldn’t bear to. 

He nuzzles against that now-open locket, eyes peering down at those bleary paintings of you two, as loving as if they were taken just today. And in the back of his fried mind, he makes a note to take newer photos for later. Fingers tracing their familiar pathway to press down on the outer edges of the metal - in only the way he knew how, in the way that you should have been taught all those years ago, but was never able to. 

“Then-” His eyes light up as they always did whenever it came to you, when the tiny mechanisms on the locket open up to reveal a delicate, gorgeous ring. Strangely matching his own. Gojo doesn’t think he’s done anything easier in his life when he slides that ring onto your finger, fitting so perfectly. Not even when he was waiting for you, not even when he’d taken care of Naoya in a way that left his coat spattered and stained with red. “-we’re both lucky.”

It’s only after a few soft, lingering kisses that Gojo finally pulls away - like it hurt to.

And it did, sensitive shockwaves erupting down his overwhelmed length. But none of that shows above his drunken grin when Gojo’s shuffling down the bed, all the way until his hot breath was puffing up feverishly against your sloppy cunt. 

Messy. Drooling.

Making such an utter mess on his tongue when he lets it loll out, swiping up the gushing creamy dredges with a long lick. It was so filthy, dribbling down the sides of his mouth, onto his pinkish tongue-

Just a tease for more. 

“Because I keep my promises, my wife.” his murmur wraps all around your thrumming clit. Tongue swirling a milky gloss all over his pert, raw lips. Only wanting more. Waiting. “In life and in death.”

A/N. THIS- THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE N’ GOT ME IN MY FEELSSSS. Hope y’all have a lovely lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[miniimight]

3AM sukuna underestimated just how much sleep he'd lose after having a kid (dad!sukuna x fem!reader)

the soft pitter patter of your baby's feet was enough to alert his senses. he didn't move—didn't even open his eyes—but his ears were tuned to the sound of your daughter's heavy breathing and the occasional babble.

he could hear her fiddle with the drawer handles, a soft rumble causing her to hum as she pulled the drawer out. a thud meant she bumped into it as she drew closer, messing around with the paper and cords inside.

he peeked one eye open. you were fast asleep beside him, and he was inclined to keep it that way. he didn't like to see his woman exhausted and seconds away from falling flat on her face because his little girl was, apparently, nocturnal.

"mama." she huffed as she finally turned her attention to the bed, fussing as she attempted to climb up.

he sighed. that was his cue.

he groaned as he rolled over, peering over your resting body at his daughter. she paused for a second, staring up at him with those shiny eyes that reminded him so much of you.

he raised an eyebrow.

she ignored his judgement and bounced in place, stretching her arms out to be picked up. "mama."

"mama's sleeping." he grumbled.

oh. oh, no. she didn't like that. she pouted, eyebrows furrowing in what seemed to be anger. her fingers curled into tiny fists and sukuna's lips twitched upwards in amusement. how adorable.

"mama." she said more adamantly.

he glared right back. "if you're coming back up here, you're gonna go to sleep."

whether she understood or not, she kept fussing to be picked up. he rolled his eyes and scooped her into his arms, rolling onto his back. baby was on his chest, leaning up so that she was sitting upright.

sukuna held onto her back, in case she toppled over and fell over like the bobblehead she was. "lie down."

"no." she chirped, looking out the window at the moon against the midnight blue.

"sleep."

"no."

he scrunched up his face. his life was much easier before she learned that word.

growing bored of the night sky, your baby rolled off sukuna's chest, scooting her way through the mess of sheets over to you. she glanced back at him as if to see if he was watching.

he gave her a look, observing her carefully. "don't you wake her up," he warned, propping his head up by his elbow.

her round eyes showed no trace of acknowledgment before she turned back to face you. there was a pause before her hand lifted in the air.

"okay." he sighed, catching the tiny hand in his before she slapped you awake. "come on."

she whined, writhing in his grip as he pulled her off the bed by the leg, dangling her in front of his face. "you really are little menace, aren't you?" he scoffed, flipping her over and holding her just like you taught him to.

she just babbled as her finger pulled at her mouth, the other hand resting on his shoulder.

he dragged his feet out the bedroom, into the kitchen. "what is it that you want, hm?" he rifled through the cupboards and pantry tiredly. "want a cookie?"

she squealed happily and pat his shoulder, a good enough answer for him to pull the package out. he dropped onto the couch, handing her one.

she nibbled on it, the chocolate staining her hands and mouth. he watched her fondly. to think he'd have a child of his own still confused him to this day. for all his wrongs, he must have done something right.

"wan' one?" she slurred, holding up the half-spit cookie to him.

"...no." he said plainly, though he did pick up a new cookie and took a bite out of it. might as well, he thought.

his eyes drooped until he felt his cookie being snatched out of his hand, replaced by the spitty cookie with most of its icing dug off.

"daddy take that one." she giggled, feasting upon her new cookie.

sukuna... what could he do? he ate that thing.

when you woke up the morning after, you just shook your head at the sight—your daughter resting on your husband's chest, cookie crumbs and chocolate smears all over the both of them. fast asleep. sugar coma.

you saved that picture for later <3

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[mostly-imagines]

Careless Accidents

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you get hurt and jason’s pissed

warnings: reader’s wrist is accidentally sprained from being grabbed to hard

You could hear scuttling from somewhere else in the garden, an estate more than sizable enough than the game afoot.

You were under the distinct impression though that the bats and birds are playing with you similar to how they would a child. Slower, weaker, and less experienced than the big kids. You weren't complaining though. Because, frankly, it was stressful. They tend to operate more like they’re in a warzone than a game, you felt like you were about to be sniped out at any second.

Rightfully so, apparently, seeing how silently Stephanie had crept up on you.

“Hey,” Stephanie hissed, ignoring the way you jumped. “We’re doing alright for ourselves,” she said smugly. 

“Yeah,” you’d nodded, like you agreed with her more than you probably did. 

“Okay listen, I think the flag—” what flag? “—is by the fountain so, I think because there’s three of us and two of them, we should bait-and-switch.”

“We’re on teams?” you asked, no longer completely sure you know what you’re playing. 

“We are now!” she smiled, starting to run. “I’ll bait!”

She stopped briefly in her tracks and turned back to you hissing, “Don’t trust Cass,” before scurrying away.

Rather than sit around and wait there for…something?...to happen, you jumped up darting in the opposite direction with little to no indication whether this is a good move.

What you didn’t see is Cass rapidly approaching from your rear. 

What you also didn’t see was Dick crouched down in a row of shrubbery, which gave him the perfect opportunity to snatch your arm up and yank you down with him. You’d mewled a bit as your wrist made contact harshly with the grass, immediately buckling under you.

Cass was keen to your pain immediately, slowing her sprint to a stroll as she observed you.

“Are you okay?” she signs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” 

The response was instinctual and you didn’t actually have time to register whether or not you were okay by the time you gave it. 

You pushed up on your elbows, trying to figure out whether Dick is even on your team, but the way the others approached had you halting consideration. They’re savvy to the situation at a speed in which you can only attribute to their vigilantism, looking at you with concern. 

“You good?” Tim asked, approaching languidly.

“That looked like it hurt,” Cass commented, crouching down next to you to see your wrist better.

Dick shook his head, “No, she’s okay.” He turned to you, prodding, “You’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m, um…” you winced, looking at your wrist. “It hurts a little.”

Cass examined it closely, tilting it gently to the side. “It might be sprained.”

Dick paled. 

“No.”

Tim pointed a thumb back towards the manor, “We can get it wrapped upstairs.”

“No.”

You were only then able to clock the barely contained grin on Stephanie’s face, begging to break.  

“Ooooh. He’s gonna kill you.”

Cass had then kindly offered to take you inside and wrap it up for you, which you accepted, unexpecting of the plus-one of Dick trailing behind you like a guilty puppy all the while.

“You know I didn’t mean to grab you that hard right? I—” 

Cass laughs quietly as she wraps the bandage around your wrist, amused by Dick’s now-third explanation/apology for the incident. 

“I know, Dick,” you say, trying to appease him. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells you genuinely, but you can tell there’s more there that he isn’t verbalizing.

You nod, “I know, Dick. It’s okay. It was just an accident.”

Cass pins the wrapping in place securely and with a smile, signs to you that she’s all done. 

You rotate your arm a bit, testing your movement under the wrap. As Cass leaves with the first aid kit, Dick remains sat at your side, leg thumping up and down.

He takes a deep breath, “What if…what if you avoid him until it heals?”

“Dick.”

He takes your uninjured hand in his with urgency in his eyes, 

He looks down at your jointed hands before loosening his already mild grip significantly.

“Are you going to tell him?” he asks, looking like he’s bracing for bad news.

You shake your head sympathetically, “No. I can’t guarantee you that he won’t find out, but I won’t tell him.”

Dick takes a deep breath, looking at the ground with intense focus. “Okay. Okay.” He stands, “I need to go.”

You watch in amused bewilderment as he staggers out the door, looking around frantically. 

Within the next few minutes, he creates and enacts his plan A. He walks into the living room, sitting down next to a very disinterested Tim, eyes forward and serious.

“I’ll give you two grand right now if you tell him it was you.”

Tim barks out, “Absolutely not.” He looks at his brother, still laughing. “No fucking way.”

Dick breaks the serious facade immediately, looking at him. “Five.”

A deadpan from Tim. 

“You don’t have five thousand dollars.”

Dick throws his head back, back thudding against the couch. “Dude, please! He’ll kill me!”

Tim scoffs, “He’d kill me!”

Dick huffs, “No, it’s different for me! Do you have any idea how many times he told me not to do that?” 

“Well then it sounds like you fucked up,” Tim sneers.

“Oh my God.”

He takes off again, combing through different rooms in the house with hope of finding a quick but effective hiding place for, say, the next twenty years?

He bursts through the study, unwittingly interrupting Bruce and Alfred having a discussion over tea.

The latter sits up with a tense brow, “Master Dick?”

The former turns around in his seat, “What’s the matter?”

Dick struggles for a second before confessing, “I accidentally sprained someone's wrist.” 

Bruce scans his face slowly, nodding. “Alright…you’ll have to take responsibility for their patrol duties—”

Dick cuts him off with a sharp breath, “Said person doesn’t have any patrol duties to be affected...”

Bruce processes for a moment before shaking his head.

“I can’t help you.”

Dick’s panic takes over again, prompting him to continue his scurry through the room, towards the other door.

Alfred interrupts his process with a very logical argument, “You don’t think running away will make this worse, Master Dick?”

“I—I don’t know!” Dick whines, stopping in his tracks. “I don’t know what to do!”

Bruce purses his lips, gesturing, “Dick, when you make a mistake…you have to submit to the consequences, you know that.”

Dick gapes, “This is not a normal consequence!”

Meanwhile, you’ve busied yourself with fiddling with the knick knacks and mementos lining the shelves of Jason’s childhood bedroom. 

You’re admiring a picture of him and Alfred from when he was young as the door creaks open behind you. 

“Sweetheart?” Your boyfriend calls out, head barely poked in through the crack.

“Hey, Jay,” you smile, setting the picture frame back on the shelf.

He enters fully, covered in motor oil and grease, and smiles his sweet, easy smile when he sees you. 

Moving onto the next trinket on the shelf, you pick up a stuffed animal placed intentionally at the front. Your gaze finds the mirror, watching his reflection as he pulls the stained shirt off his back. 

You smile to yourself, noticing the way his back muscles flex as he adjusts. “How’s the bike?”

“Better than it was this morning,” he sighs. “Where’ve you been?”

He turns around to look at you, taking easy steps towards you. 

You return the toy elephant to its place, moving to face him. “Uh, we were outside, playing…at least three separate games at once.”

The second you’re in proximity, your hands join like it’s second nature. 

He nods, all too familiar with the family’s unique methods of gamefair.

“Did th—” He looks down at your intertwined hands, brow furrowing as soon as he spots the bandage wrapped around your wrist. “What happened?”

You glance down, shrugging. “Overexerted myself playing tag.”

He looks at you skeptically, but says nothing about it.

He turns your hand over gently, asking, “Is it sprained?”

You nod, relaxed. “Yeah. Cass said it’s mild.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No,” you say, sweeping his hair back with your other hand. “Barely hurt then.”

He nods, but he doesn’t look satisfied with the conversation.

Regardless, he turns away again, shuffling through a drawer for a clean shirt. 

“You, uh, you wanna stay for dinner tonight?” he asks, pulling his arms through, his head following. 

“Yeah,” you say gaily. “Alfred said he’s making his ‘special spaghetti’, apparently it’s a household favorite?”

He wavers, halfway to between decisions. “Yeah…”

He huffs quietly, turning back to face you fully. “Can I see it?”

You nod, happy to ease his mind. 

You start to unwrap the bandaging, him doing half the work for you. The work is done silently until your wrist is exposed, revealing your bruised skin.

You both see it at the same time—the hand-shaped bruise wrapped around your wrist.

You’re both quiet for a second—him putting pieces together and you waiting for the shoe to drop.

He takes off suddenly, clearly having come to a likely very accurate conclusion about what had happened.

“Fucking idiot—”

You try for his hand but he’s out of reach before you can grab it.

“I’ll be right back,” he grumbles behind him.

“Jason—” you sigh, “At least help me wrap it back up first.”

He hesitates, halfway to the door, ultimately returning to you in defeat. He takes your forearm gently, scanning it over again before beginning to wrap it.

You watch his face closely, noting the clear vexation. “It was just an accident,” you tell him. 

He scoffs, “It better have been.”

You drop your shoulders and lull your head to the side. “Jason. I’m not made of glass, you can’t expect other people to act like it.”

“I don’t. I expect him to mind his own strength, and if he can’t do that, he needs to keep his fucking hands to himself.”

You sigh, “Just don’t do anything harsh. Please. I think he’s worried you’re gonna punch him.”

“He should be,” he says shortly. He finishes off the wrapping, pinning it in place firmly. 

You grab onto his forearm before he can pull away, “You’re not going to. Right?”

He doesn’t answer so you try to make his gaze meet yours, “Right?”

His eyes roll, “Yeah, fine.”

You smile, holding his face. “I love you.”

He huffs as though he’s inconvenienced, but confesses the obvious truth nonetheless. “I love you.”

He looks you in the eye, face serious. “You promise me it doesn’t hurt?”

“I promise,” you nod, brushing your fingers against his palm.

“Dick!”

The angry voice bellows through the tall halls of the manor, heavy footsteps thudding.

He stomps into the living room, Tim, Cass, and Stephanie watching the entryway with wide eyes. 

“Where is he?”

Unwitting shoulders shrug and heads shake. Truthfully, at that. Dick, smartly, did not tell anyone where he was hiding. 

Jason scans the trios faces, looking for any sign of apprehension.

He clocks the grin shamelessly plastered across his sister's face quickly. “Stephanie?”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “But let me know when you find him, I wanna see—”

But Jason’s moving onto the next room before she can get the last words out.

He enters the dining room, looking right to left before finding his target, halfway to stuffing himself behind the fine china cabinet in the corner.

There’s a brief, tense moment in between where the pair realize what they’re seeing and when Dick sets off in a sprint towards the kitchen, Jason quick on his tail. 

“Really? Really?” Jason shouts. 

“It was an accident! It was a fucking—” 

He narrowly dodges a swipe from Jason, then ducking before a ladle could make contact with his head.

“Are you stupid? Are you the dumbest motherf—”

Dick rounds the kitchen island as fast as possible, Jason testing him on the other side.

Dick takes a breath, “Dude, it’s fine now, it’s not that big of a—”

Jason recoils, “‘It’s not a big deal’? Come here. Let me sprain your wrist, asshole!”

He circles the counter quicker than the elder boy can think to move away and lunges at him. 

Dick throws his hands up in front of him, “Wait, wait, wait! Truce! Truce! Truce?”

Jason drops his shoulders, leveling his older brother with a look. “You can’t call a truce if you’re the only one who did anything wrong.”

“I…” It doesn’t take him long to piece together that his defense makes no sense, so he resorts to his last option. 

“Please?” Dick asks, nothing short of imploring. 

Jason relents—slightly—upon hearing his brother's tone, but still finds it in him to shove him, though not nearly as hard as he’d been planning to. 

“I told you a hundred fucking times not to grab her so hard—” 

Dick nods heavily, waving a hand. “I know, I know—”

“Clearly you fucking don’t!” Jason shouts. He huffs, running a hand over his face. “You sprained her wrist. You’ve been doing this vigilante shit for fifteen years, how do you still not fucking know how to control your own strength?”

Dick grimaces, “I do! I do, I just screwed up, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t—” Jason narrowly holds back a scowl, “Did you apologize to her?”

 “Yeah, of course I did!”

For a split second, Jason looks ready to keep arguing before purposefully dropping the anger from his body. 

The resulting relief almost drowns Dick.

It only lasts a moment though, before Jason looks at him again, sneering, “Idiot,” before pushing him once more. 

“Jason.”

Your voice has Jason dropping all turbulence in an instant. He and Dick both whip their heads towards the door, equally unexpecting of the interruption. 

You tilt your head at your boyfriend with a knowing but disappointed stare.

He looks back at you like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, lips parted.

“I didn’t hit him.”

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