#prince bakugo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lilacgaby · 2 months ago

Text

‧₊˚ running out of time,

to make you love me. ₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩

THE PRINCE'S BALL was to be had on his 18th birthday. the week before, you realize the feelings you have harbored over the years for him. little did you know you were both fighting against the time restraint placed on him.

-☆pair. prince!katsuki x servant!reader. tags: fem!reader, cursing, romance, kissing, childhoodfriend!reader, insecurities, pet names(?), miscommunication trope, wingmen, angst to fluff. royal!au wc: 5k

-✩note. based off this drabble i did a long time ago.

“prince, please! just let me–” he shoved your hand that was moving to button up his shirt away, glaring at you. “no. i can do this by myself.”

he fumbled with the buttons, large hands trickly maneuvering them into their respective places. it was a definite struggle, as seen through the furrow in his brow, the snarl on his lips, the twitch of his brow.

oh, and the fact that the shirt was inside out with all the buttons in the wrong holes.

you sighed as you finally took his hands into yours, something that would result in a peasants hand getting cut off entirely. “prince,” you started, “this is my only responsibility. if you become good at this too i'll be out of a job.” you joked.

he scoffed, letting you pull his hand to his side as you unbuttoned his work. flipping the shirt around and working nimbly to get it on. “didn't even need y’r help anyways, i had it.” he muttered.

“of course you did, it's just– this is my job, your highness.” his eye twitched at the assertion of his rank. while it made him feel empowered by others, extras as he'd call them, it brought an odd feeling to have you of all people refer to him that way.

he’d grew up alongside you, the daughter of his very own mother’s handmaiden. you'd play around the castle together, sitting in for lessons with each other. to others it was an odd sight for you to be there, with clothes made of less refined material and hair unstyled and free.

he was raised the first twelve years of his life seeing you as his equal, viewing you almost as a royal all the same. until it was decided you'd be his personal servant. the nickname you had forgotten to time that you'd dubbed him all those years ago was now replaced by a formal ‘prince’. you'd bow to him and fetch him anything he needed. you'd stay by his side all day long, almost like you weren't allowed to leave.

because you weren't. because you were his, though not in the way he wanted.

“i already told you,” he whispered so lowly, if you weren't so close to him you wouldn't have heard it. “when it's just us it's katsuki. like it..

like it used to be.”

your hand paused, staying where it was fluffing up the collar of his button-up. your eyes widened and heart fastened, the pumping in your ears as a smile overtook your face. “..okay katsuki.”

an equally flushed look brushed over him, “tsk, whatever. we got a busy day today so, hurry up [name]..” you nodded, saluting mockfully as you hurried fixed his coat onto him, making sure his slacks were nicely pleated and shoes spotless before he head out to address the royals.

the royals who were visiting today in regards to his birthday bash in a week. the one where he'd have to choose a wife, one who'd hold the future of his kingdom in her hands alongside his.

you followed closely behind him as he made his way down to the main court, no words were shared between you but you understood the internal turmoil going through his head as best as you could.

mostly because you really didn't want him to get married either.

a longing glance went unnoticed by you as he looked at you, red eyes noticing the same feeling of anxiety in yours.

he balled his fist a little tighter at the sight, before slamming the doors of the court open, making everyone jump. you bowed deeply before following him, his hands deep in the silken slacks specially made for him.

katsuki hated how you weren't allowed to sit down almost as much as he hated this meeting entirely. dumbass kings and queens of other kingdoms looked at him, or more accurately the figurative seat he'd soon have as ruler, with fake practiced smiles on their faces. fake interest and fake emotions, fake everything.

he didn't fight the snarl on his face, the discontent in his posture as he rolled his eyes at their words, not sparing glances at the photos of their daughters or offers of money to him and his parents.

he truly didn't care, at least, not until they brought up you.

an older king, one with a smile that was more so with his eyes than his lips, joked to the king, “so, when your son gets married, can i have the servant? she's a looker.”

the rest of the royals laughed, hands covering their faces as katsuki felt disgusted for you, so much he just had to speak, “back off. why are you talking about her like that anyways? she's not for sale.” at least he managed not to curse.

a queen with a stupidly large fan in her hand made exaggeratedly big eyes, an ‘o’ on her lips as she spoke with a sickeningly sweet voice, “oh, don't you know future king? when the queen is assigned to this kingdom, your servant will be switched, considering she isn't a, well, he.” another joined in, red lipstick smothered over their lips, “no self respecting princess would ever let their betrothed have a servant of the opposite sex, what a scandal!”

laughs filled the room once more, though katsuki and his parents did not join in. he gripped the wood of his chair tightly, you swore you heard it crack under the weight of his anger. a vein was visible in his arms, a glare on his face. though he stayed silent. he glanced at you occasionally, and you'd give him a polite wave.

the rest of the conversation went about as smoothly as expected. the royals clashed with the kingdom’s generally ‘out of norm’ beliefs, a woman as the main advisor of the kingdom, and not to mention the queen holding majority power steady? but they barely voiced their discomfort since they wanted to stay on the queen and king’s good side. with a wave of the hand the queen gestured for katsuki to leave.

so katsuki left as soon as he was allowed to, almost jumping out of his seat. he left without a proper dismissal to the royals, something he'd get reprimanded for later. you right behind him. “where are we going prince? are you hungry?”

“no.” his voice was dry, no emotion seeping through as he continued walking throughout the halls. his face was hidden from your view. “okay, so where are we going?”

“the gardens.” your face scrunched up in confusion, you sped up your steps to try and catch him. “wait, the gardens? why?”

he stopped, making you bump into him as he finally looked into your eyes for the first time in a while. “because we need to talk, [name].” his eyes looked almost betrayed, sorrowful. your mouth opened to respond but you were cut off by your own need to keep up as he started up again.

through the halls and down a staircase, then turning to the left.

he stopped at the center of it all, almost to the entrance of the maze. stood in front of a grand waterfall built into the greenery, one you were very familiar with. the same one you'd played at as kids.

“katsuki.” you heaved. having to chase him through a flight of stairs was not for the weak, a.k.a you. you plopped right down on the bench next to him, ungraciously downing a water bottle as you closed your eyes. the sound of birds chirping, water running, and wind blowing through the garden filled your ears. a sense of serenity flooding over you two.

“when were you going to tell me?” katsuki’s voice cut through it all, a soft tone in his statement as he looked away from you. you jumped up at the sudden noise, but quickly asked, “tell you about what?”

he scoffed. “about what happens when i get married. how you're just going to leave? you're just going to leave me?” his eyes burrowed into your soul, accusatory words leaving his mouth as he stared at you.

“no, no i just– katsuki i didn't want to add another thing to stress about to you so quickly. i was going to tell you, but they told you first. i'm sorry.”

“you should be. i– i don't-,” his words got caught up in his mind. his mouth slightly hung open as he found himself unable to complete his sentence. his brain short circuited when you grabbed onto his hand, intertwining and bringing them onto your lap as you ask, “is everything okay?”

the words rushed out defensively. “yes, fuck. yes i'm okay. i don't like you hiding things from me so, don't pull that shit again.” he internally slapped himself on the head, his mind yelling a resounding no at his mouth.

he wanted to tell you how he needed you to stay, how he wanted you by his side for eternity. how he wished you were a royal, because he would've proposed just to the sight of you in the mornings. to the candid moments your two shared so often.

but he didn't.

you were undeterred by his harsh language, squeezing his hands before letting go and nodding. “ of course, prince.”

there it was again. the everlasting reminder of the differences between you, the boundaries that had never been dared crossed. though, as you guided him to the dining hall, he felt he might have to take that chance.

…

he finished dinner and changed, wanting to go to bed early that day. you bowed once more, before going to your own personal chambers just across from him.

you took a long, hot shower. the cascading of the water onto your body helping sooth the questions plaguing your mind. you washed your face, brushed your teeth and laid onto your bed, staring at the moonlit sky as you sigh.

you didn't want to leave katsuki. not at all. you didn't want him to get married, you didn't want him to kiss or be affectionate with someone else, you wanted him for you, like you two have always been. just for each other.

you wanted him to confide in you as equal again, you dreamt of being able to sit at the same tables and converse publicly. you wanted to hold his hand and not fear one day it'd be chopped off.

you wanted to be his. fully.

you let the sounds of the remaining water drip from the faucet rock you to sleep, impulsive thoughts striking your mind as you thought.. you might as well use these last days to show your feelings to him. you'll be gone next week anyways.

waking up with a renewed sense of vigor, you knew you now only had a couple days to show katsuki your feelings indirectly. well, as indirectly as you could think of.

starting this day, you snuck in more lingering touches than you thought possible, complimenting him whenever you were alone. being sweet to him, so sweet that he kept asking if you wanted something.

“prince, i brought some more of those chilis you like.”

instead of accepting them graciously, he only eyed you suspiciously. “the hell do you want?” he asked, staring at you accusedly as he bit down on one with no reaction.

“nothing! why do you keep saying that?” you pouted, “i should take the damn chilies back.”

“no way. these are mine, [name].” he snatched the basket out of your hands and stuffed one in his mouth. when he finally gulped it down, he adorned a lazy smirk, “thanks, [name].”

you hated how your heart reacted to him.

while your plan was underway of trying to get him to realize your feelings for you, he-

was trying to figure out how to keep you by his side. he used your only off day, mondays, as a way to get some advice. too bad he was friends with a bunch of bumbling idiots.

they were gathered around a place meant to practice their swordsmanship. his ‘friends’ who consisted of sons of dukes, duchesses, and advisors hung around. he kicked out a lot of them, leaving only three. sero, kirishima, and kaminari.

“hey bakugo, what's got you all crazy?” kaminari asked, trying to snipe an apple off of a nervous kirishima's head with a bow. “yeah, you've been giving us a death stare all day.” sero agreed, laughing at his repeated misses.

katsuki's back faced them.“i..,” he sucked in a breath. “ineedyourhelp.” he muttered quickly.

“what?” they all stopped, staring at him confused.

“ineedyourhelp.”

“slow down man-”

“i need your help.”

they all were jaw slack at the revelation, eyebrows raised as they stared at each other and back at him. they collectively chose not to make fun of him, almost feeling the urge to applaud his growth. “oh.. uh- what's up bro?”

katsuki breathed in, before averting his eyes and explaining. “my.. personal servant. found out she's gonna leave when i get married to some random princess, ill never see her again. but.. i don't want to lose her. i can't imagine my life without her.”

the three blinked, they'd never really seen bakugo this way. a look in his eyes that could only be described as, “love.” kaminari muttered, his hand supporting his chin as he diagnosed him. “you're in love man, congrats!”

he was now breathless as thoughts ran throughout his head, he found himself unable to respond. it was so obvious, his feelings for you were out of the ordinary, but he could never quite place the title of his symptoms til now.

the three shared a look at each other again, before sero pointed his finger in the air, “obviously, you want to marry her.”

katsuki sighed, a hand moving to support his head from head his neck. “so?”

“so,” kirishima started, “you marry her. easy.”

“not easy, isn't that like against the law?” kaminari cut in, picking up his bow once again.

“law or tradition, who knows? but maybe in those dusty old books we can find a law that like, lets him do this?” sero suggested.

kirishima snapped. “that's it!,” the arrow flew to pin the apple into the wall, “we just have to prove that he's allowed to marry a non-royal.”

“you idiots make it sound so easy.”

“cause it is. we can handle the research with help from your huge library!” kaminari pointed out, grabbing the staked apple and taking a bit out of it. “matter of fact. let's start now, we're going to need to plan out for your big day anyways.” kirishima held out a hand to bakugo.

a smirk came over katsuki’s face as he grabbed his hand, before nodding. “right.”

the rest of the day was spent knee deep in book upon books. the book keeper’s apprentice even helped them out, though they finally left at midnight with the ten books that would have the answers they need. they'd shoved the bulk of the books under his bed, high-fiving him sleepily as they hopped onto carriages, promising to be back tomorrow.

and back they were. the grind continued as they read page to page, finding clauses and conditions that could help katsuki. they each were assigned a book to look through, though they had to hide it from you. which was hard since looking after katsuki was your job.

“prince, is there anything you or your guests would like?” you asked, internally sobbing as you couldn't undergo your top tier plan with his friends around. what were they even doing? the entire day they spent holed up in his chambers, sat in a strange circle as they all read through the books.

“uh, we're okay-”

“actually servant,” kaminari cut in, a cheshire smile on his face, “we made a huge mess in the library yesterday. mind cleaning it for us?”

“o-oh. i don't mind, excuse me.” with that, and the tray of snacks you'd left behind, you were gone. sero and katsuki finished their books first, not finding anything of use. they started the next ones, when a couple hours in, kirishima suddenly jumped up, the cheese he was snacking on now discarded as he held the book into the air. “guys! i got something!” he was about to read it when an excited katsuki went and took it out of his hands, reading it in his mind.

‘clause 1.43.77, any king or queen who rules over their kingdom must choose a royal to accompany them by their side and produce an heir to the kingdom.

however, if a non-royal has proven their worthiness through devotion and loyalty to not only said king or queen, but the kingdom, they are an eligible bachelor as well.’

“this.. this can work then.” the four exchanged exhausted smiles, before collectively passing out. you came back to the sight of them all slumped over, you were tired yourself from putting away hundreds of law books. you grabbed pillows and blankets, placing them over the heirs to the kingdom, gently raising their heads and laying them onto the pillows.

you were upset at the day lost, katsuki had barely been sparing you a glance as of late. and that continued into the next day. you brought breakfast for all him and his guests, waking them up with a pull of a curtain. they all groaned collectively, trying to shield their eyes from the blinding sun. “what time even is it?” one of them grumbled. “too early.”

“it is noon, i let you all sleep in. you really should be getting up now.” you left the tray in front of them, being mindful of the books splayed open around them.

they got up, the red-haired one seemingly smelling the food in the air? odd. they all were really odd to say the least. they stared at you silently, making you tilt your head in confusion. all before katsuki raised a hand to you, mirroring his own mothers actions towards himself. “you're.. dismissed until the ball, [name].”

your eyes widened, mouth agape for a second before taking your leave. as the door closed behind you, a weird feeling of despair overtook you. you wobbled over to your room, locking the door behind as the feeling settled over you. you stared out the window, the cloudiness of the skies doing nothing to alleviate your mood.

meanwhile, katsuki was planning once again. there was now only two days left, two days to decide how he was going to plan out his bash.

two days to deal with the uncertainties that would arise from his crush on you. he could lose you, marry some other woman and imagine it was you laying next to him. imagine it was your lips and not hers, pretend she acted like you, all to save from the stresses of worrying about the problems to come.

no, he wanted you. he needed all of you, he needed to be all yours.

he sent his friends off, calling carriages for them

and reluctantly thanking them for their help. he walked around the gardens again, reminiscing on the years you two had spent, the many memories you'd made together.

he thought back to the way you'd play together, the causal touches and referring of each other something he'd taken for granted.

he closed his eyes, he never wanted his time with you to end, kingdom be damned. he wanted to memorialize your time together forever.

unknowingly, foiling your very own plans to make more with him. you didn't know what to do with yourself, you found yourself back at the servant’s quarters sniffling softly into the lap of the head servant, your mother. you knew he didn't upset you intentionally, right?

your mother listened as you explained what had happened, how you never had felt like such a failure. maybe it was those idiot friends of his, you didn't know.

your mother comforted you with a hand running along your hair, her embrace rocking you to sleep that night. her eyes looked into your sleeping ones, your face squished against her legs as wore a face of worry. your feelings were obvious, attending the bash and seeing him choose a bride would hurt you..

should she forbid you from attending?

…

katsuki was walking around his room aimlessly. his mind was running, purely on thoughts of you. he couldn't get you out his mind, he missed you deeply. but, he needed the space away from you to think. at least that's what he thought earlier.

he was basically codependent on your presence now, the day he'd spent away from you felt like an eternity.

he couldn't sleep. he'd laid in his bed dozens of times at this point, shutting his eyes, covering his ears, even trying to hum to himself. nothing worked.

he finally couldn't take it anymore, he found himself walking to your room. his hand hovered over the door, until he finally knocked. at no reply, he assumed you were asleep, though he heard the shuffling of feet inside. ‘this will make it easier.’ he thought, as he whispered and figured he'd pour his feelings out to you, response or not. his hand splayed against your door, palm pressed against the oak of the wood as he began.

“[name].” he heard the shuffling of feet stop. “i.. i have.. feelings for you. ones that i shouldn't have. i care for you deeply. and– i think i love you.” he was still as he waited for something, anything from you.

he let a small smile overtake his face, his hand falling from the door and going back into his pocket. “g’night, [name].” he went back into his room, finally able to rest now that he felt he got his feelings off his chest.

his heart was racing, he still didn't know if you felt the same. you said nothing, which was expected. he did drop a bomb on you all of a sudden. he finally drifted to bed.. not hearing the open and closing of your door. and not seeing that it was your mother who he had confessed to, not you who was currently asleep in her mother’s bed.

your mother pondered over his words, smiling at just how hopeless you two truly were. she caressed your hair once more, falling asleep beside you as she decided.

you'd have to go, and you'd be dressed like royalty in your own right.

your hair was ruined. you groaned as you caught an eye of yourself in one of the many mirrors in this part of the chambers, some of your friends laughing at the sight of you. this last day would be busy, too busy. it'd be your last day as katsuk’s servant, and you'd barely be able to see him.

you pouted, waltzing around the chambers mindlessly until your mother arrived behind you.

“[name], let's go. you have fittings for the bash tomorrow.” she grabbed you before you could voice your disapproval, taking you to your room. though she let go of you and walked into your room. you mindlessly went to katsuki’s room, wanting to be at his side at least once before tomorrow. at no reply to your knock, you excused yourself before walking in, only to be met by the sight of a messy room. empty. you cleaned his room up a little bit, making the task for his future servant a bit easier.

you left his room, laying on your bed before you saw gorgeous dresses that could probably buy your life two times over.

“mother, i don't even think i'll go tomorrow.”

“you have to, dear.” she grabbed your hand, “the prince would want you there alongside you. just like how you've been all his life.”

you looked to the floor, “but he sent me away..” your mother responded by nudging your head up. “he still cares for you. your absence is going to be odd for him, don't you think he was just trying to protect himself?”

you sighed and shrugged, “i guess i'll go then, if not, then to tie off loose ends.” you eyed the three dresses in front of you, and chose the one woven in silks and lace of your favorite color. “that one,” you pointed to it.

“i'll choose that one.”

…

funnily enough, as you walked into the bash and found yourself drinking punch, those were the words you'd felt the most fear of hearing. you fit right in alongside the princesses of other lands scattered across the hall, making lines to go speak to katsuki, who was absentmindedly staring at a wall. he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world, but as his eyes locked on to your moving form towards the balcony, he excused himself.

“[name].” he called out to you, making you turn around and smile softly. “katsuki.”

“you look.. amazing.” he complimented, moving closer to you. “thank you for.. uh.. coming.”

“of course, future king. i'll stay by your side 'til

the end of tonight.”

he nodded. “right.” he sighed once more, something he seemed to do a lot around you now. “[name], did you hear me the other night?” he asked, looking into the distant forests surrounding the castle. at the shaking of your head, he continued, “i.. i just really care for you. that's all i want you to know.” he didn't look at you, he didn't think he could handle it right now. even from the vision of his peripherals, the glistening of your skin in the sun that slowly departed, the dress that matched you both in personality and in beauty, the smile that overcame your lips. it was a vision that would live in his dreams eternally.

“i care for you too katsuki.”

he finally turned to face you, he smiled, before opening his mouth to speak. only to be cut off by the sound of an obnoxious trumpet. he was to make his choice. “go.” you said, pushing him inside. your eyes burned as realization set into you, you'd ran out of time.

he was pushed to the center of the hall, all the princesses facing him with practiced smiles. courtesy's and bows that made him feel odd. the crown on his head had never felt so heavy, so burdened as now.

he looked over to you, the words everyone spoke pushed to the back of his mind as you sent an encouraging thumbs up his way. he knew you though, the look on your face was one of underlying sorrow.

even in this room full of people, even in the whole world large and vast, he'd always choose you.

so, when the room was silent and awaiting his answer? he pointed to you, making your breath hitch and eyes go wide.

you pointed to yourself, looking around before mouthing, ‘me?’ to which he mouthed, 'yes, idiot.’

you made your way towards him, eyes wide as everyone gasped. you weren't a royal, evident by the lack of jewelry adorning you.

“[name], it's always only been you. will you rule beside me?”

your eyes grew impossibly wider, pupils dilated to the max as a blush overtook your face. “..you're serious?”

“yes, i am.”

“i– is this even allowed?”

“my parents,” he gestured over to them, who sent polite smiles towards her. “they know about it, i sat down with them yesterday. i'm serious about this. i'm serious about you.”

“but what abou–”

“fuck everything else. this is about you and me.”

“do you accept, ms. [name]?” the bard asked, all eyes on you as, though you only looked into katsuki’s.

“if he'd have me, i'd be honored.”

he wordlessly asked you, and with a tilt of your head you prompted him to kiss you. though it was belated, the hall filled with cheers for the two of you.

“well,” the queen beckoned you two to her side, your hands intertwined as you stood in front of her. “this is surely a first, however.. it is undoubted that ms. [name] and her family have proved their loyalty and dedication to the kingdom.

therefore, we have no objection. masaru?”

“yes mitski.”

they both got up, the king wielding a sword as he stood next to you. katsuki helped guide you to the floor, he was on one knee as he was sworn in.

sworn in as king by your side.

the sword tapped his shoulders gently, a crown being brought out on a pillow and placed upon his head as you looked in awe, as an equally gorgeous one was placed unto yours.

“katsuki, i entrust our kingdom to you. with all of our people in the hands of you, and of course, your trusted wife.”

“i understand.” he said, bowing his head down to his father.

“[name].” the queen called to you, filling you with a sense of urgency. “yes my queen?”

she laughed, before taking a moment to whisper in your ear. “mitski is fine.” she cleared her throat, before continuing. “you will be a dedicated servant any longer, tomorrow you will wake up as the queen of our kingdom my dear. please, do your best to guide our king, and set the kingdom onto a path of prosperity.”

“thank you my– mitski. i will.” you bowed deeply, before you were helped up by katsuki once again.

you walked out the hall with katsuki at your side, the weight of the crown a shared experience between you two.

“‘suki.” the nickname lost to time finds itself back on your lips as you're led to his room, though this was the first time in years that it was out of familiarity, not work.

“[name].”

“thank you.”

“for what?”

“risking it all.. doing all that. it was.. indescribable.”

“.. it was worth it for you. i'd– i'd do anything for you. now we can make up for lost time. i really

missed you these last days.”

“i did too, god i was a wreck without you.”

“you wouldn't believe how bad i was without you.”

it seemed practiced, as if you'd done it a million times when he gestured for you to follow him to his bed. the way you melted into each other was unimaginable, not even the discomfort of your corset getting in the way of how he made you feel, though you'd gotten up to change.

now wearing house wear, clothes you'd never imagine you'd be wearing in his quarters, you laid next to him, the same moon shining brightly upon the two of you as he held you.

his head was on top of yours as you shared this wordless embrace, one that spoke thousands of words you'd need not to speak.

a kiss, one you'd both never though you'd get to share, especially not in his very own bed, was all that left the two of you as you settled into each other for the night.

you'd begun a servant and ended as queen, ranks though meant nothing to you, for your only wish was to stay eternally by his side.

a wish you both fought for.

tags: @gold24fish @nemisimp

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bbkoolkatz · 13 days ago

Text

𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖓!

comment to be added to the taglist for this story!

»»————> presenting;

pairing: barbarian!prince! Katsuki Bakugo x chief!daughter! reader.

synopsis: an arranged marriage to the prince of the barbarian clan to save your kingdom from being wiped out... cliche innit. stem's off the MHA fantasy au!

content warnings: FEMALE READER! strangers to lovers! slow burn! MHA fantasy AU! adult themes! arranged marriage! sexual content! rough n gruff Katsuki! mentions of blood in a lot of scenes! rituals! dub-con in some scenes! (for caution, because y'all can't understand each other) if u're religious, PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!! angst! fluff! smut! WARNINGS APPLY TO ALL CHAPTERS!!! and are there to exercise caution!

updated on Wednesdays and Saturdays!

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊↓; 2.5k+ words

»»————> LORE! [you can continue without reading all this]

the barbarian clan is known for conquering any village, kingdom and/or empire. they are brutes, usually settling anything by waging war and desecrating the land.

the barbarians speak in old Norse! conversing is difficult...

Katsuki is the only son and prince of the barbarian clan.

barbarians are stronger and bigger in size than regular humans.

your kingdom is ruled by your father—called cheif instead of king—who's a big softy and doesn't see the point in things like war... he prefers to talk things out and leave casualties to a zero. even if that means marrying off his only daughter...

you are the only daughter of your father which only makes you more precious and worthy of bearing the heir of both your kingdom and their clan.

tetsugami; a huge, semi intelligent crab. [there are few now as people have hunted them down to the double digits.]

crimson dragons; giant flying lizards. [they are very friendly despite their mean looking faces & their scales are extremely valuable.]

(more coming soon)

Old Norse Alphabet;

1. A/a- Pronunciation: ah as in "father."

2. B/b- Pronunciation: b as in "bed."

3. D/d- Pronunciation: d as in "dog."

4. Ð/ð (called eth)- Pronunciation: Soft th as in "this."

5. E/e- Pronunciation: eh as in "bed."

6. F/f- Pronunciation: f as in "fox." Between vowels, pronounced as v.

7. G/g- Pronunciation: g as in "go." After certain vowels, it softens to a y sound.

8. H/h- Pronunciation: h as in "house."

9. I/i- Pronunciation: ee as in "see."

10. J/j- Pronunciation: y as in "yes."

11. K/k- Pronunciation: k as in "king."

12. L/l- Pronunciation: l as in "lamp."

13. M/m- Pronunciation: m as in "man."

14. N/n- Pronunciation: n as in "name."

15. O/o- Pronunciation: aw as in "law."

16. P/p- Pronunciation: p as in "pen."

17. R/r- Pronunciation: Rolled r, like in Spanish or Italian.

18. S/s- Pronunciation: s as in "see."

19. T/t- Pronunciation: t as in "top."

20. U/u- Pronunciation: oo as in "moon."

21. V/v- Pronunciation: Often interchangeable with f, pronounced like English v.

22. Y/y- Pronunciation: Similar to ee but with rounded lips, like French u in lune.

23. Þ/þ (called thorn)- Pronunciation: Hard th as in "thorn."

24. Æ/æ- Pronunciation: ai as in "air."

25. Ö/ö- Pronunciation: ur as in "bird" (without the r).

M-LIST!

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3.5

marriage. the best thing that could ever happen to a girl. all your life, you'd imagined being a bride; delicately decorating your hair with wild tulips, adorning your body in silver and white silk. spending the rest of your life with the person you love most.

now you're here, kneeling in front of a bonfire beside a complete stranger, cloaked in boar fur and animal skeletons, as the thick, warm blood of a lamb is poured over you. your marriage ceremony... filled with unfamiliar faces—including your now-husband—and traditions. drinking, dancing, and celebrating the union.

"nú ger hana konu þína!" a spiked-blonde woman, with an uncanny resemblance to the man kneeling beside you, announced, raising her hands in the air. you looked around confused as ever, as he leaned in, blood-stained fingers pulling you in by the back of your neck. your nose scrunched at the metallic taste of blood that his tongue shoved past your teeth. you push him away, gasping at the foreign feeling.

"hvat í helvíti, kona!?" he frowned, turning away from you, mumbling something under his breath, that you didn’t quite catch. not that you'd understand what he was carrying on about anyways...

the spiked-blonde woman—whom you guessed to be some sort of priestess or elder—shot you a sharp glare, her arms lowering slowly as she spoke in a hushed yet commanding tone. her words were incomprehensible to you, but the crowd seemed to murmur in agreement. your husband huffed, his frown deepening as he looked at you over his shoulder. you were kneeling there, with eyes pressing on you from all directions. the fire crackled in the silence, and the warmth of it did little to ease the chill settling in your chest.

two women approached you, their faces painted with intricate swirls of red and black. they tugged you to your feet without a word and began guiding you toward a tent decorated with bones, animal pelts, and dried herbs hanging from the entrance. inside, it was dimly lit by a few small lanterns. the air smelled of earth, smoke, and something sweet but unfamiliar.

they gestured for you to sit on a low stool and began pulling at your ceremonial garb, their movements quick but not unkind. your protests fell on deaf ears as they stripped you of the heavy fur cloak, wiping the blood from your skin with damp cloths. one of them muttered something, shaking her head as she scrubbed at your face. it was clear they didn't understand you either, but their disapproving looks were universal.

by the time they were finished, you were dressed in a simpler gown of rough-spun fabric, a far cry from the silks you were used to and had imagined for your wedding night. the older of the two handed you a wooden cup filled with a thick, bitter scented liquid. she pointed to it, then your mouth, her expression stern. reluctantly, you sipped it, grimacing at the taste. the woman nodded, seemingly satisfied, before they left you alone in the tent.

you sat there, staring at your hands, trying to gather your thoughts, but instead, they drift back to just a few mere hours ago...

"arranged?" you seethed in disbelief, looking at your defeated father, seated across from you at the council table, surrounded by old wrinkled elders.

"yes, daughter," he affirmed, voice devoid of emotion. "war against the barbarian clan would destroy everything we've built—"

"so they made a proposal, a very very rare one," one of the wart ridden elders interrupted-

"to make an arrangement," another continued-

"one that cannot be broken once forged," -

"a marriage,"-

"your sacrifice would save us all, child," the eldest croaked, concluding the proposal, "and as the chief's daughter, it is your duty to your people." one after the other, they all slowly turned their heads toward you, kneeling at the center of their godforsaken grey gazes.

your eyes flickered between them, their crinkled foreheads making you feel sick to your stomach as their words wrung your heartstrings. "marriage is sacred... it can only happen once. i don't know this person that you'd like me to be bound to for the rest of my life..." you snarled, stating the very obvious to those expired raisins.

"i'm afraid you misunderstood us, girl," the eldest fumed, weakly slamming his fist down, "it is arranged. you will wed the heir of the barbarian clan. that is why you have been summoned." firmly raising from his seat to intimidate you.

"that is my daughter you're speaking to, elder... as old as you are, mind your tongue." your father shifted his attention to you. "unfortunately, he is right, my dear. it's already been arranged, and you are to be wed at sundown."

dumbfounded... that's the look on your face. they we're giving you away to complete strangers... and at sundown!? despite all the colorful words that wanted to fly out your mouth, you grit your teeth and settled with a curt nod. you do have a duty to your people.

though it wasn't supposed to happen like this. it was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. you only get married once in your entire life after all.

the sound of heavy footsteps outside the tent snapped you out of your thoughts. the flap was pulled aside roughly, and your husband stepped in. his presence filled the small space, his broad shoulders and wild blonde hair almost brushing the top of the tent as his crimson eyes bore into you, a mixture of frustration and curiosity in his gaze.

he said something, his voice sharp and demanding, but you could only blink up at him in confusion. "i don't understand you," you said softly, shaking your head, as your voice trembled, despite your efforts to stay composed.

he huffed, combing a hand through his hair before pointing at you and then gesturing to the pallet of furs in the corner of the tent. his tone suggested he was giving you an order. when you didn't move, he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"leggjask. sofa." he barked, his frustration very much evident. when you still didn't respond, he crossed the space between you in two long strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to your feet. the roughness of his grip made you wince, but he didn't seem to notice as he guided you toward the furs. he pointed again, his expression leaving no room for argument.

you hesitated, thinking that maybe he wanted you to lie down, and slowly you lower yourself onto the makeshift bed. he stood over you for a moment, his intense gaze making your skin prickle, before he turned and left the tent without another word.

you let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest. you were alone in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers who you couldn't even get to know, married to a man you didn't understand. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes with the overwhelming thoughts, but you blinked them away, refusing to let yourself break down on your wedding night.

the two women that cleaned you up earlier came back with him, and they began to remove his furs. you quickly averted your eyes, feeling a heat crawling up your neck, as the thought of them removing more than just his cloak tainted your mind.

"nei!" the old one scolded, "Þú verður að líta!" ... why are they babbling their jibberish when they know you don't understand them... "she said, 'you must look'," the younger translated, seeing the confused wrinkle in your brows. oh thank the gods! you smiled briefly at the familiar words before coming back to your senses.

"must i?" you blush, slowly turning back to them.

"yes," she smiled, cleansing your huge husband before your eyes, "if you do not, you give chance for another woman," she carefully rubbed the damp cloth over his bloody forehead while you let the thought sink in.

"leave," you softly ordered, "I'll take care of my husband," and without hesitation she whispered to the old lady, they dropped everything and left. ain't no way you were about to let your husband be seduced away on the night of your union...

gently, you wrung the cloth of most of its water and brought it back up to his face, wiping away the dust and dried blood that covered little scars freckling his almost perfect face.

his eyes burned through your skull with his staring, slowly scanning over the curves and dips of your body as you moved. your finger danced over his skin, tracing the scar on his right cheekbone, moving down to brush past his thin lips, wiping away the remnants of dirt on his well built, chest. he seemed to relax against your touch, closing his piercing crimson eyes, and hanging his head back to let you do your work.

so soft... and smooth... the texture of his skin isn't what you expected. who would've thought that such a rough looking barbarian had the skin of a baby? would explain all the scars though. like this one running down his neck to his collarbone, and these over here trailing down his firm biceps. you almost forgot you were supposed to be cleaning him up... you've finished the upper half and tugged at the leather holding his pants up, struggling to get them undone.

a low chuckle rumbled in his throat and your eyes shot up up to his smirking face, "what's so funny?" you quiver, frowning, as he shifted to stand, undoing the leather and dropping his pants to the dirt floor. "þar," he rasped, smug at your flustered state.

having those women clean him up was starting to seem more and more reasonable now... nevertheless, you dippied the cloth in the bowl of warm water and squeezed it, before wiping at his lower abdomen. you're so adorable between his legs like that, avoiding his eyes at all costs, while you wipe your way down and around, to his back. again, your hands moved of their own accord, twitching along the scupletd bumps on his back.

he grunted softly as your fingers worked over the knots in his shoulders, his broad frame shifting slightly under your touch. emboldened by the lack of protest, you continued, pressing harder into the muscles along his spine. his head dipped forward, and a low sigh escaped his lips, sending a wave of warmth through you. he brought a large hand up to yours on his shoulders and guided you in front of him.

both your eyes reflected in each other's for a long moment before you tried to break the silence, your words sounding like nonsensical ringing in his ears. he pulled you into his chest, just holding you there in an attempt to shush you, closing his eyes as his brows pinched over them.

"what's your name?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible over the crackling of the distant bonfire. you paused, waiting for a response, but he didn't seem to react, his eyes still closed as if savoring the moment. you tried again, a little louder this time, "what is your name?" you pointed at his chest.

he peeped through his eyelids, a sliver of vermilion meeting yours with a flicker of confusion. "nafnið mitt?" he asked, the foreign words rolling off his tongue. he tilted his head, as though trying to piece together what you were asking.

you frowned, gesturing to yourself. "i'm…" you said your name slowly, pointing at your chest, then gestured to him, raising your brows expectantly.

he blinked, mildly confused, before a smirk tugged at his lips. "Katsuki," he said, his voice low and rough. he tapped his chest, meeting your eyes again. "Kat-su-ki," he repeated, in the same manner you pronounced yours, ensuring you understood.

"Ka-tsu-ki…" you tested the name on your tongue, the unfamiliar syllables feeling oddly satisfying. his smirk widened slightly, pleased that you had caught on.

you nodded, offering a small smile in return, then gestured to yourself again. "my name is…" you repeated your name slowly once more, hoping to bridge the language barrier. his brows furrowed, lips moving as he attempted to mimic the unfamiliar sounds. his effort was clumsy but endearing, and you couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you.

his frown deepened at your amusement. he murmured your name under his breath a few more times, his pronunciation improving with each attempt, until he finally said it with enough accuracy to make you grin.

"that's right!" you cheered softly, nodding in approval.

he held your gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before his hand came up to gently brush against your cheek. his touch was surprisingly tender, his calloused fingers rough against your skin, but warm.

"sofa," he murmured again, his tone softer this time. he gestured toward the furs, his crimson eyes watching you closely.

you hesitated, unsure if he was commanding you or simply suggesting something. this is it. you thought, heart racing, as you slowly nodded, giving him a glance over your shoulder, before crawling onto the makeshift bed.

he stood for a moment, watching as you adjusted yourself among the furs, before he joined, sinking beside your head with his weight on his palms, caging you in under him. his hair fell beautifully over his narrow, glowing eyes, his nose brushing against yours as he lowered to your quivering lips, sucking them between his, tugging at your plump bottom lip with his teeth.

footsteps thumping right outside your tent made your heart race, thinking someone was coming, but he didn't stop, nor did he care, he hiked up the thin fabric of your dress, his large hand caressing your upper thigh as he shed the leather covering his— good god... you look down and your eyes widened. he smirked and hooked the strap of your dress with a finger to pull it down, and expose your heaving chest.

"Katsuki!" the blonde woman from earlier yelled, barging into the tent, "Tak hendur þínar af henni, þú þarft at vera við ráðsafn. núna!"

"För Guðs sakar, kona!" he yelled back, moving himself off you to sit. he looked up at her worried frown... "Ek kem..." you had no idea what was happening... eyes darting between them as their words flowed out of their mouth and their hands moved in frustration as they spoke.

katsuki looked back at you, a worried expression overtaking the lustful one he had mere seconds ago. he kneeled down kissed you, then threw on his cloak and left. the woman rested a comforting hand on your shoulder, gently smiling before she too headed out, leaving you alone, following behind your husband.

»»————> 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘; <————««

❈ "Nú ger hana konu þína." - now make her your wife

❈ "hvat í helvíti, kona!?" - what in the hell woman!?

❈ "þar" - there

❈ "nafnið mitt?" - my name?

❈ "leggjask" lie down

❈ "sofa" - sleep

❈ "Katsuki! Tak hendur þínar af henni, þú þarft at vera við ráðsafn. núna!"- katsuki! take your hands off her, you need to be at the council gathering. now!

❈ "För Guðs sakar, kona!" - for gods sake, woman!

❈ "Ek kem..." - I'm coming...

hope u enjoyed and look forward to more! don't forget to comment to be added to the taglist! mwah~♡

mlist!

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teethrottt-art · 2 months ago

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ohmi-ohmyj · 1 year ago

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Happy 1-year-deathiversary to this guy 💣💥🎉

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mytheoristavenue · 4 months ago

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MHA Prince!Katsuki Bakugo x Princess!Reader 🍋 - Redemablity

Summary: You are distraught to wed your new husband, the son of a neighboring kingdom who is known to be quite cruel, but is it possible that he may have redeemable qualities only presented when it's time to consummate your marriage?

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, porn with plot, angst, breeding, premature ejaculation, unprotected sex, dom!bakugo, sub!reader, afab!reader

You drank your reflection in numbly, bright bridal eyes picking you apart. To the untrained gaze, you were the ideal image of youth and beauty- the fairest in the land, some would say. But your eyes were bloodshot and cradled by puffed lids. Wet lashes threatened to stain your cheeks with inky tears should you ever stop fanning the sorrow from your eyes. Pushing away from the vanity, you sighed, feeling weighted by dread, as if there were stones in the folds of your gown. You had little time to prepare and all weeping would do was waste it.

Your instructions were clear as day: dress down and await your husband's arrival while nestled modestly in bed, clad in your sleeping gown. You had been offered a chambermaid, and you adamantly refused her services, but in the end, your request for privacy was vetoed.

"Please step back, ma'am," A deep, yet still feminine voice croaked You did as she asked, stepping backward toward her as her nimble fingers began to unlace your corset. "If I may speak freely, your grace," She offered a small smile that went unseen as she loosened the strings. "His Majesty is blessed to wed such a radiant gem as yourself."

"Thank you, Asui," You swallowed dryly. You'd been referred to like this all your life, eventually being called beautiful lost it's charm.

"Please, ma'am, call me Tsu," She beamed cheerily, trying to melt the thick tension in the air as she finally was able to shimmy your bodice off.

Something about her friendly demeanor actually was able to soothe you some. Since you'd arrived in this kingdom, you'd only been met with fear, praise, or condescension. It was incredibly nice to have a single person who offered something resembling friendship. "Thank you, Tsu." You corrected with a small bow of the head. "Tell me, are the rumors about the people of this kingdom true?"

Tsu gave a knowing smile as she came to your front to untie your skirts. "Aye," She nodded. "The royal family of this kingdom are ruthless and unforgiving, that much is true. But," She digressed, letting your outer skirt fall to the floor, followed by the layer just beneath. "You'll find no safer castle to reside in. This is a fortress, guarded by the most valiant of kingsmen and the tactical prowess of their Majesties remains unmatched."

"You're saying this kingdom wins wars," You conclude, a tad more bitterly than intended. "I do not fancy myself a husband who is interested in war."

"Aye, ma'am, but that's what you've got." The chambermaid said matter of factly. "The Bakugo family are conquerers and the prince is no black sheep." She could see the unrest settling deeper into your face and she offered another reassuring smile as she began dismantling your crinoline. "If it brings you any solace, know that rumor has it Prince Katsuki picked you out himself. Out of a line of potential wives, he'd settle for no less than you specifically."

"That brings me nothing but dread," You laugh weakly. "Ruthless and obsessed do not make the perfect husband."

Tsu's shoulders slumped, seeing as she couldn't sway you into giving the young prince a chance. "I respect your opinion, my lady, but keep an open mind, perhaps. Making up your mind to live miserably now will not grant you any favors down the line..."

She was absolutely right and you knew it as you stepped out of the crinoline. "I will do my best." You relented slightly, letting her shimmy your bloomers down, along with your stockings. She nodded pleasantly to you now that you were undressed, her swampy eyes only protected from your form by a paper-thin linen sleeping gown. Offering you a hand, she led you over to the grand four-post bed, fitted with fine silks and soft furs- the most lavish bedding the castle had to over.

"Nestle in, my lady," She cooed, holding up the sheets while you tucked under them. "His Majesty will be with you shortly." You simply nodded with a longing look, as if begging her not to leave as she turned on her heels to go. "Send for me should you need anything."

"Thank you, Tsu..."

-----

You'd nearly drifted off when the door opened again, flooding candlelight into the otherwise dark room. The flame flickered against a stoic face, before being settled on a nearby table. You could hear the shifting of heavy fabrics and rustling in the middle of the room- your new husband stripping, no doubt. You stayed perfectly still, pretending to be asleep as he moved the candle to the bedside table and crawled under the covers with you.

"Wake up," Was all he said, shifting under the covers to loom over you. "Don't think sleeping through our wedding night will stop the consummation of this union." His words had come out as a threat but he hadn't intended them that way. Your eyes shot open at the warning and you nestled yourself deeper into the mattress. Katsuki could see your unease and he softened, but not enough for you to notice- you weren't looking for it. "Don't run from me," He said lowly, palms on either side of your head.

"Release me," You spat, scrunching your face in disdain as you pulled the covers up to your collarbone.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't take this well. "Being my wedding night, I am in an unusually good mood, so I'll give you an opportunity to recollect yourself and remember who it is that you're speaking to."

"I don't care who you are," You doubled down. "I will never willingly play this role you've forced upon me."

The venom in your voice took him back and he sat back on his calves, still between your knees. "A regretful circumstance, but I can assure you, though your willingness would be ideal," He sighed as if his cruel words carried little weight on his conscience. "It is not necessary."

"You would take me by force?" You shrieked, disgusted by the notion, attempting to shift away.

Vermillion eyes bore into you like a nail through splintering wood. "No," He finally answered, cold stare trained on you. "At least not in the way you expect." Katsuki repositioned himself, scooting closer to you. "You are required to produce my heir and to consummate this marriage tonight. That is all that's required of you and it will be done."

His mind made up, he loomed over you, taking the backs of your knees in his hands. "Know that I don't take any pleasure from this. Look away if you feel the need."

You took his advice, hiding your face in your shoulder, eyes squeezed tight, bracing for impact. Instead, you were only met with a warm and overwhelming pleasure. Gasping, you immediately shot up to investigate, finding those same eyes, burning into yours like the last embers of a bonfire. "Does this hurt?" He simply asked, calloused, slobbery thumb rubbing languid circles on your clit, never slowing or breaking eye contact.

All you could do was shake your head before letting it fall back into the pillows. "W-Why..." You croaked, confused as to why he'd pleasure you after threatening to take you despite protest.

"I don't want to hurt you," Katsuki confessed, again making a threat out of an honest statement. "That is to say, if you won't enjoy this, I want it to bring as little discomfort as possible."

You began to feel a bit silly for assuming he'd simply take you with no preparations or regard for your comfort. The gesture of trying to coax natural lubricant from your unwilling body was almost...sweet in some way. It was nearly enough to make you change your mind, but you held rocksteady in your convictions.

"I never have been a poet," Katsuki finally spoke again, lifting the hem of his sleeping gown to reveal himself already erect and weeping. He pumped lazily into his fist, milking pearlescence from his tip before smearing it as far as it would spread. "But I will admit when I am overcome and I am..." He paused, steely gaze tracing your ill-covered form.

The linen gown did you no favors when it came to modesty, draping over your every curve like a silk sheet. Your visage was reminiscent of Greek statues he'd studied in youth, full-figured ones chiseled with such skill that the marble they were made from looked sheer against the body. He could tell by the sight of you that you were healthy enough to survive childbirth dozens of times over as he primally kneaded the dough of your hips. Hips that were perfect for carrying the weight of an heir- many if he had his way. "And I am dreadfully overcome tonight."

"Overcome by...what exactly?" You dared to ask, peering up at him meekly.

"Need, desire, instinct," He answered, vermillion eyes never leaving your body. "I have waited years to have you in my bed, my lady." He confessed, jaw slack as he ate up your image. "Forgive me if I seem brash, I was never blessed with the gift of eloquent speech. That's why I searched for a wife like you, who could decipher my thoughts."

Katsuki's brows furrowed as he released a captive breath, stroking himself more intentionally. "I may be rough around the edges, but I will gladly lay down my life for the sake of redeemability in your eyes."

His stare was still stern, but there was a softness in it that you could no longer ignore. Try as you did to villainize the prince, you found yourself smitten with this sacred, saccharine side of him. You had often fantasized about marrying a stoic man who had a soft spot only for you as a young girl- could it be possible that this was your girlish dream come to fruition?

"Are you overcome by me, your grace?" You murmur, tucking your chin to your collarbone, voice dripping with more flirtation than you had intended.

"Aye," He breathed, still stroking himself lazily, a still thumb pressed against your clit. "Overcome and overwhelmed- direly." His desperate expression melted what little resolve you had left and you relented to the notion of enjoying your wedding night.

-----

"God," Katsuki rasped, caging you in his arms as he breached, not only consummating his union with you but exchanging his virginity for yours as well. "So much better than I could have ever dreamed..."

You couldn't help but feel shy at his words, only increased by the overwhelming sensation of the agonizing initial stretch. You squeezed your eyes tight, not daring to look at him for fear of catching him staring back. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes had screwed shut in bliss, muscles relaxing and giving way entirely as his head lulled backward, a mess of platinum locks resting against his trapezius.

Your husband continued to pray under his breath, pressing your knees closer to your shoulders, hardly resisting the need to let his hips sputter. It tempted him all the more the way your velvety hole squeezed him as your body struggled to adjust to the new presence, but he held steadfast and perfectly still. He promised himself he would until you begged him to move. That's what he expected at least.

However, despite how he imagined the act proceeding, your body reacted before your lips could part. A pitiful groan left his lips as you sucked him in, hips bucking up in a feeble attempt to take matters into your own hands. A few shallow rolls and an almost silent whimper were all it took and your suddenly sweet spouse snapped.

"Now you've gone and done it," He sighed, plunging into you at an already steady pace, unable to lift his head from how it rested backward as his hips snapped into yours. "W-Won't be able to stop now, no turning back."

You could almost forget the soreness if this could last forever. He perfectly stuffed you, his tip just kissing your cervix when he was fully sheathed, but still able to bully it if given any effort. You would have laid there forever, letting him fuck into you with all the brutality you expected him to carry before actually meeting him. If only he'd lasted beyond the first few thrusts.

Minutes after he began picking up pace, you felt his body lock up and his breath sucked into his throat as a gooey warmth spread through you. You stared up at him thinking surely you were mistaken but his expression showed his true colors.

Red splotches painted his cheeks, streaking across his nose and dripping down the shells of his ears. His brows were furrowed, for once not out of frustration, but in an almost pathetic scrunch, and his jaw hung slack, drool drizzled on his chin. There was no mistaking it, even to your untrained eye- this was the flushed face of a man who had just planted his first seed.

Before you could react, he breathed out a few words that made your heart swell. "M-My deepest apologies," He sighed, hips still spasming. In perfect honesty, you were a tad disappointed, thinking that he'd now surely pull out, leave you with a mess, and flop over, out like a light. Imagine your surprise when his hips snapped into yours again, pulling a low, pained growl from his throat. "I-I won't- hah-" Katsuki mutters through gritted teeth, giving you another sharp thrust, falling into a terribly slow, but brutal pattern. "I-I won't leave you unsatisfied, my treasure."

You never could have imagined your wedding night with 'The Merciless Son of Musutafu' to be so wonderful. You could see the discomfort in his face as he pushed beyond his own limits to ensure your needs were met. Every grunt and prayer that dripped off his kiss-bitten lips made you feel incredibly special, especially when the volume of what filled you increased.

Katsuki couldn't help but release a second time, milked by your tight heat, overstimulated past the point of even feeling climax anymore. Tears pricked his eyes as he drowned in the constant and endless build-up. You pitied him terribly, but not enough to allow him to stop, locking your legs around his waist as you selfishly chased your high. "Please, just a bit more," You pled, feeling the rutting of his hips slow, exhaustion over taking him. You raked your brain for an idea of how to spur him on until your finally remembered your purpose: to produce him a son.

"K-Keep going, darling," You purred, rolling your hips to meet his to make up for what he began to lack. "Forgive me for what I said, I'll be a good wife, just- ahh..." You trailed off in a moan, eyes rolling back as you crawled toward your summit. "I-I want to bare your heirs, as many as possible!"

Just like before, your words broke something in him and he became ultra-aware of the creamy fluid he'd blessed you with. His brows furrowed, this time paired with a determined gleam in his eye and a stern frown as he began to push his oversensitivity aside. He was going to conceive a child tonight, Hell or high water. He could only imagine rubbing your round belly as you greeted him home from another war won, a gaggle of blonde children surrounding you- the vision kept him going as he bullied that special spot, fucking his seed into you as deeply as possible.

You could no longer keep up with his bruising pace, unraveling almost as soon as he picked it up. You saw white as he continued to push you further through your climax, whispering sweet nothings pertaining to how wonderfully you'll fill the roles of wife, mother, and queen.

-----

You weren't certain when you'd drifted off, but you awoke to sunlight peaking through the windows of the chamber, the lark singing you good morning. It startled you at first- how tightly you were held against your new husband. He cradled you from behind, a peaceful expression on his sleeping face. It didn't take you long to recognize a foreign fullness inside you and your face reddened when you realized, that not only were you still full of his load, you were still connected to him. He must have stuffed back inside when we cuddled up to you, you decided.

Your shifting stirred him and he hummed, sanguine eyes fluttering open as he glanced up at you. He remained silent, though you could almost see the words on his tongue. Finally, he spoke with a lazy smile. "I didn't want anything to go to waste, I wanted to make sure it took."

Something about his words churned your stomach and you smiled, flexing your abdominal muscles to squeeze his growing morning erection. "If I weren't any wiser, I'd be inclined to believe you may have enjoyed our first night together." Katsuki teased softly, wrapping his battle-scarred arms around your plush middle, pulling you closer.

"You may be correct about that," You admitted with a playful laugh, letting him cuddle you like a stuffed toy, sighing as his hips rolled languidly into your backside. "I would hate to let this opportunity go to waste," You smirked, pushing your rear against his lap. "After all, if we are to produce an heir within the next year, we can't let a single chance to conceive slip by, now can we?"

"Aye, a wise idea, my sweet," He laughed dryly, arms tightening around you as his face nuzzled into your hair, "I want to start my family as soon as possible."

Hi guys, I'm so very sorry this took so long to come out! I've been terribly busy lately and I wanted this to be really good for you all! I want to give a special thanks to all my new followers, as well as the loyal few who have been with me all this time! We are now at 4.04K followers and counting, that's so crazy! When I started writing a decade ago, I never could have anticipated that I'd have so many people enjoying my little hobby, let alone so many within three years of joining Tumblr. You all truly are the best and I hope everyone enjoys this one! I love you all so much!

#mha #mha x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugo smut #prince!bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugo x reader smut #4k follower special

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nooepkt · 2 years ago

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⚔️Knight Kirishima & Prince todoroki⚔️

His mission is to protect prince todoroki from his enemies. One in particular, Bakugo the Barbarian prince … 👀

I’m testing new thing with my style ;)

Do not use as a pfp since I’m using it myself. Thank you

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ms0milk · 1 year ago

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𝟏𝟏 | 𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"Being safe from sand and ocean winds doesn’t seem worth it to the Alderan prince, not worth enough to miss the sun rising every morning. How could you die in a place like this? How could you possibly be okay with that?"

no cw unless you’re averse to apprehensive touch between enemies. reader and co recover from last night’s attack in their own ways. two fools stand too close in a cold hallway. three fools finally go to the sea and one of them can’t get you out of his head 6.8k

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Bakugou’s first memory of you is doused in blood. His second is somewhat more pleasant. Just two giant, shining eyes peering at him through a crack in the library door. You’re lightfooted now, sure, but back then he could feel you coming through the floorboards from how excitedly you wiggled at your self assigned post. You thought you were hiding. Him pretending not to notice, and you pretending it wasn’t hours after curfew.

Bakugou liked to do magic for you. Sometimes he waited for the sound of your heart or your twiddling thumbs before he blew out the candles around him and lit the first pink spark on his fingertips.

The prince can’t hear well enough anymore to recognize your heartbeat, so he’s been searching for your bedroom since dawn.

Wretched flashes of you play across his ash lashes like a curse. Of you toppling off a cliff like some psalmic tragedy. The pleading in your grasp but something– something else in the blacks of your eyes on the mages back. Relief? Like the first flecks of ease he’s seen since he made warm magic for your audience. If his fists weren’t drawing blood from his palms as he marched he might have reflected on how long he’s been watching you.

All this work just to wring your fucking neck. Takoba is ill-equipped for Bakugou’s Alderan thunderstorm. Castle marble trembles underfoot.

What the fuck were you thinking?

He’d like to throw your door open, demand an answer and then not tolerate a response. It’s been three hours of his tirade. Of startling footmen and growling at maids, before he finally catches the tailend of someone useful.

“Oi, Cheeks!”

Uraraka isn’t thrilled about this and pauses, considering for a moment, before turning around. She chews her lip instead of rolling her eyes.

It’s just short of miserable where the two of them are standing, freezing in this part of the castle and somehow also stuffy. The only windows are at the long ends of hallways. It smells old. Being safe from sand and ocean winds doesn’t seem worth it to the Alderan prince, not worth enough to miss the sun rising every morning. How could you die in a place like this? How could you possibly be okay with that?

“Where is she?”

“Gods, the pair of you–”

“Where?”

Uraraka, in her padded cotton sparing clothes, sags weight to one hip, “Kats, she’s your guard. What do you mean where is she?”

Bakugou hasn’t gotten enough sleep for this. Up until bitter hours with Aizawa and his men recounting the attack and now stalking Takoban hallways. A perfectly comfortable bed beside a steady fire, ruined by the memory of you.

He spits and pushes past the soldier. Fuck her, fuck it. He doesn’t hate you more than he wants to sleep.

“Last blue door,” Uraraka barks behind him, “and she doesn’t want help. I already tried.” She grins nervously as the prince adjusts his gait, hardly hiding his beeline for the room at the end of the hallway. Fuck sleep. And more crucially, fuck you. You, setting great fires in Aldera’s name wherever you step and bursting at your simple seams to be righteous about it.

A blind man might be more prepared than him. Might remember why he avoided you all week– what he was going to say to you in the gardens those few hours ago, before the mage and blue fire.

Your door is already open a crack when Bakugou approaches with a egotistical lack of decorum. Storming and sauntering. Morning sunlight hardly illuminates anything on this side of the castle. He’s just cold enough, just close enough to the edge of irate that the thought of swinging it fully open with a roar fills him to the brim with grim satisfaction.

At a distance, Uraraka thinks about stopping him, but his wind up, his general air and the tense of his shoulders dies before he can cause the scene she knows he wants to.

Inside the crack, Bakugou deflates as you slip into view. You keep your back turned. Dark blush climbs up the parts of your neck neither hair nor nightgown cover and you stop your gentle drifting at the foot of your bed. Steam from a tub under your window fights with the sea draft. You’re trying to reach something– a ribbon? And your fingers tremble as they graze a tie at the back of your dress. Are you in a hospital gown? Bakugou peers inside silently, completely underestimating the shock of seeing you conscious.

You don’t look right without a sword. You don’t look right at all. Turn around. He can’t see– what did Uraraka say? Help with what?

Bakugou touches golden fingertips to the door’s beveled edges at the same time as you slam your fist hard to one of your bed’s four posters. The prince’s fingers twitch instead of startling but it’s too late because your ears work leagues better than his and you’ve spun right around to catch whoever it is that’s watching you. Uraraka drifts carefully around the corner.

“Wh– Highness?”

Your door rushes open and Bakugou can tell you’re nursing your left arm by the way you reach with your right. Though your frustration deflates with a glimpse of him, it doesn’t shift to something comfortable. He’s not what fills you with ease.

He didn’t expect to be so disarmed by the sight of you alone but now that you’re here, solid and in front of him, he can’t stop remembering the state of you in the gardens. Wet and bleeding, bubbling and burnt to a crisp and still, still swinging a spear. You shouldn’t be getting dressed, you should be dead asleep in the hospital. Bakugou hasn’t thought this far and he doesn’t think he can yell anymore.

“Sir?”

What did he come here to say to you?

You look like a proper wild Alderan this morning like he’s hardly ever seen you. Worn eyes and bed hair, battle scars and a bruise that peeks out from under your collar. It took seeing you for him to remember the last conversation you’d had.

You’re mine.

“Your arm,” he musters instead of thinking harder and tips his chin to your left.

“Do you have business with my arm, sir?”

The shallow cut down Bakugou’s chest has started to scab, the one from your sword in the gardens. His only injury from last night and not because of his skill in a fight. You are battle weary, exhaustion holding your eyes in your head and healing magic draining the life from your heart to keep your arm intact. Shame roils.

Great galloping fuck, do you ever stop staring? You look through him under the doorframe with huge dim eyes.

“What help do you refuse?”

Whoever said that has said it much too sweetly Bakugou tisks, and you seem to agree because your otherwise tired face sets itself to stone. He pities the person that would speak to you like honey, his kamikaze captain, until he realizes you are looking only at him in an empty hallway and that syrup has dripped like drool from his lips.

“Is that all?”

He would be more upset with you if you were wrong. If he hadn’t actually run out of things to say and couldn’t only focus on staying upright after a night with no sleep.

He sounds like fucking Kirishima. The same shithead who started to cry after cornering a loose-lipped Deku outside of Aizawa’s interrogation office. He might have blubbered on for hours about your injuries if Bakugou didn’t send him on a chore to collect breakfast.

The hospital you must have escaped from healed your wounds but missed more than a few patches of dark blood crusted up your neck and into your hair, and then Bakugou remembers he didn’t come here to stare. Every day of tutoring and diplomacy, every shouting match, every spar, every fist fight is failing him. What did he come here to say?

“Don’t be stubborn.” Not that.

“Is that an order?”

Takoba has sucked the soul from your eyes, day by day. They should be filled with fire. He distinctly remembers fire, but today you hang in the doorway without a weapon and just wait for him to leave. Speak too quickly for him to think. You can’t even stare at him right anymore and it’s pissing him off.

You look like shit, he considers grunting, you smell worse. You gray my fucking hair, run away home. Go die for someone else. The broad prince shuffles his tongue over his teeth when vitriol doesn’t find its way from his mouth and while the pair of you watch each other too close in this cold hallway something so much worse sneaks out.

“It is.” He wants to spit the second the sounds leave his mouth.

“Yes, sir.”

And immediately the word ripples his skin from his bones, his sinews try to tear from his body every time you utter it and he knows now that you do it on purpose. Before Bakugou can recover and growl and kick his way through this cursed castle out of your stoney company, you turn your back to him and wait without moving, “The knot, sir.”

It’s so much worse without your staring. To stand with you alone and out of his mind with exhaustion and for your eyes to be anywhere other than burning holes through his head.

How dare you. Bakugou vibrates as he watches unmarred knuckles reach forward in time to register that his own hand is going to touch you. Even injured, your posture is still perfect, unsettling, and it’s taken twenty years for the prince to realize that you’re no bigger than a sunflower. You carry yourself like a dragon through his castle but it would take two of your hands to cover one of his. And you thought you could kill the flame mage? You thought he was worth your Alderan life?

In the time between dreading the closeness and pinching the bow at your back in his fingers, Bakugou remembers his fury. All the senseless shit he meant to say in the gardens suffocates in the smoke hate tends.

You, who orders your soldiers like an old general and then refuses to eat with them. You who hunt and kill for the queen but stumble through professionalism when it comes time to look at him. Do you smile alone, in your room or with your master? Or is subservience a full time job?

You’ve pulled the tie free of its bow with your stupid struggling and now Bakugou needs both hands to pick at a knot too small for his fingers because you can’t ask for help. You want to die so badly? Do it out of eyesight.

He focuses for one second too long to keep his magic from spiking with his anger like a teenager and with that second he finally pulls the fucking ribbon loose and– and it’s bad.

It’s ugly. You’re not bleeding, they’ve closed you up, but black bruises reach from your shoulder so far down your back he has to blink away when his eyes follow the trail too quickly. The back of the gown begins to open. Turning bruises purple, a scar like tree sap creeps out from under your sleeve, up your neck and down your spin. The burn. A pink scar like sparks in his twilight library.

Shuzenji can only do so much with bruises but this welt? It looks too angry to touch cloth. She couldn’t put in some goddamned effort? You saved her useless queen for all she knows and she couldn’t spare a fucking second to put you back together again?

Creativity given too much platform by your silence, a much worse thought surfaces. Did you escape, or were you discharged half patched like this to make room for more important patients? Royal patients. Blood in your hair.

Bakugou spent fifteen Julys in this Takoban hellhole, every summer for diplomacy or training or vacation, or whatever the fuck his mom decided to call forced socialization that year. He might as well have spent all fifteen years in the hospital for all the trouble he got into by the sea. Pirates and sparring or krakens, whathave you. There was never a broken bone bad enough, a concussion so blinding that Shuzenji couldn’t fix it.

“I’m no god, Katsuki,” she’d murmur even when he was too dazed to hear properly. Always, always she reminded him. How long had it been? How did he forget? “I can only use what you give me. If I take too much you’ll die.”

Your room reeks of the sea even with the windows closed and blue infects its every inch. Even the steaming tub at the foot of your bed tinges green at its bronze lips.

“Highness.” Your voice is a call on the wind when Bakugou realizes how tight he’s still holding your ribbons. You are a subtle source of warmth kissing his knuckles in a cold corridor and he can’t get away from you fast enough. You turn. Your shoulders drop and your gown drops with them, your big eyes catch the corner of your face and where anyone else might be coy you look through him like a hound.

“Thank you.”

The sounds that comes out makes him feel like a hound. Like a bark, tch, “Fuck back off to the hospital.”

“Is that an order?”

Your beautiful golden prince spits at your feet and turns away down the hall.

You wouldn’t have gone back even under orders. You woke up in the surgery the second Shuzenji put her hands on you. Searing wet pain and a thousand stitches and where her magic used to feel bubbly, this night was just fire. Blue fire, Takoban fire.

You were the only collateral from the attack. It should have filled you with pride that you protected not only your prince, not only a queen, her heirs, her champions, and guards, but her entire castle. Still, alone in the hospital with a rum cloth jaw clenched to keep from screaming– in the seconds or hours it took to hammer you together again– liquor was a welcomed distraction from the taste of mageblood.

Shinsou was there in flashes looking over you on the table and then in a blink holding someone back from the door, red hair like Kirishima, and hatred like molten sugar spilled from your every sweating pore on the operating table. Where was he? Your prince’s champion left him alone in a hostile country with only one guard and the incompetence of Takoba to keep him alive. If wrath could send letters, your Mitsuki would be inundated.

“C’mon miss martyr, head down please.” Uraraka’s smiling more than you’d like as she runs a sponge across your back. The bathwater is a touch too cold for you and still so hot that her arms have gone pink in the space where she’s rolled up her sleeves.

“I can wash myself.”

“Kats didn’t send me in here to watch a pretty girl wash blood out of her own hair,” the pink guard chuckles and you hate to waste this comfort filled with fury.

Before Shuzenji could wrap any part of you in bandages, a knock at the hospital door took her from attention. Shinsou had long disappeared so you slipped from the bed and through a door at the end of the room.

Footmen and maids balked as you whisked through the halls half-dressed and bloody. The guard stationed maddeningly at your bedroom door didn’t hesitate when you burst from the darkness and growled for hot water. You wouldn’t give your prince the satisfaction of sauntering through the castle nearly naked again but you had been stripped of your padding and armor, your weapons, and a generous serving of blood. The prince had to wait.

“I won’t really wash your hair if you don’t want me to,” Uraraka murmurs this time instead of laughing and you are back in safe company.

The smell of the sea makes you sick.

A change of clothes she brought for you from her soldiers' quarters lays nervously across your bed generally afraid to be worn. Rife with silver bits and baubles, limp where your Alderan uniform would be imposing. You’ll look like a doll and suddenly you’re angry all over again.

Uraraka is gentle when she rinses suds off your shoulders but the itch over the new skin there is deep and welcomed. The brush of Bakugou’s knuckles in the hallways left streams of goosebumps that still won’t fall and that you refuse to think about. Not his hands, never again.

“Do you like looking like this?”

Uraraka leans forward so you can see her expression and gestures vaguely to the room with her elbow, “Like what?”

“Like,” you slip your good arm over the edge of the bronze tub and water platters on rugs, “this.” You're both eyeing the Takoban uniform now.

“Do I like looking beautiful?”

“Like decoration.”

“I am decoration.”

Salt carries on a breeze through the room that persists even with the windows closed and your arm drops from the lip as you settle back down in your bath. That’s right. A few weeks away from home and suddenly you’re playing Royal Captain instead of war fodder, too good for a borrowed pair of greaves.

“Alderan uniforms are beautiful too,” the guard offers, but you rest your head a bit too limply in her hands as she brings water up your nape.

Your voice is tired, “Do you like giving orders?”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“I like having a bed and sending money home to my parents.”

“Do you like fighting?”

“I do.”

Your queen is as fiery as her son, but did Jeanist have to tame her first? Or did she have to break him into a shape she liked to look at? Was it an honor? After hardly a month of travel together, Prince Bakugou had pulled up the edges of your identity like a bored child with cheap wallpaper. Fifteen years without so much as three words, then three weeks of torture and still somehow the thought of returning to Aldera where he won’t so much as growl towards your post makes your stomach ache. Where you will never be allowed to raise a weapon against him. Being decoration never bothered you before.

“I like free food and looking pretty,” Uraraka steadies her hand at the base of your neck and holds you tight, “I love my master, I love my friends, I love my city and my people. I miss my mom, I’m afraid to die, I can’t budget, I’ve never been in love,” her fingers pulse warm over your new skin, “I think I’m lucky.”

You think so too. You bring your knees closer in the water, “You look like a chandelier.”

Uraraka tilts your head gently towards the seashell uniform, smiling, “We look like chandeliers.” And then there’s a knock at the door. Your heart beats golden for a second.

“Y/n? Please tell me you’re in here.” Kirishima and his unmitigated gaul. Blood turns red again.

As you sit up properly, your pink guard shouts before you can find a weapon, “She’s in the bath!”

“Come back to the hospital, Y/n. Have you eaten? I brought breakfast, please can I come in?” Doors are made of shit driftwood here so you can hear his ragged breath even through the walls and gods, you start to sweat again.

You’re stiff, not bedridden. Your shoulders can roll again and a scar can’t keep you from raising a weapon, “You’d better arm yourself if you want to speak with me, Champion.”

“Y/n please–”

“Ei, go eat without us!” Uraraka plants her hands on your shoulders when you draw your knees under yourself to keep you from rising fully, “Go on, it’s okay I’m here.”

You don’t like how slowly it sounds like he’s moving. Kirishima rests something on the floor with a click and then clears his throat, “I’ll– I’ll tell the others you’re okay.”

“You do that,” Uraraka chirps for you again. She rinses her hands in the water beside your ribs as awkward footsteps pad away from the room. You settle back down on your hips and long for hot water. “What’s your problem with the champion?”

Your body is a rusted machine and it’s too hard to find words for your anger. Her Takoban champion threw himself off of a cliff to save you. Your champion ate dinner for a few hours too long instead, presumably because he was staring at Lady Mina. An Alderan embarrassment. Another knock.

This one is much too loud and in no way enunciatory. Your door flies open this time with Bakugou attached to the knob.

“Shitty Hair!” He howls over the edge of the door and down the hallway, “Almost wore this breadbowl as a boot, pick up your motherfucking food!”

Uraraka’s hands go limp at your back and she must be staring as blankly as you are because your prince only looks normal– milky and ferocious– until he turns inside to speak. It’s almost endearing how quickly his shoulders and scowl drop into a look entirely foreign on his face as he takes in the scene in front of him.

The first thing you’ll do when you get home is have tea with Master Jeanist under your favorite Saturday tree and laugh over the many expressions of your hellfire prince, for he dearly loves to gossip. He thinks the Bakugous are the most beautiful family in the country, and he’s right, and it’s infuriating in a thousand ways.

The prince clears his throat, hand still tight on the doorknob, “I’m going to the sea.” And he speaks to the bed because something has stopped him from looking at you. The veins in his hands dance. The air might as well be frozen.

With one movement he blinks to the window over both of your heads and steps backwards into the hallway, door closed and absolutely uncharacteristically silent as morning air.

Uraraka’s knuckles crack when her fingers twitch but that’s the only movement or sound either of you are allowed before your door flies open one more time and Bakugou, fuming frowning and bursting with something to say, explodes inside again. This time one slippered foot is deep in a shepherd's pie. Not even your bathwater stirs. Not a single sound comes from his clenched teeth, not even when his lips part to speak.

Six and holding your hands, eleven and soaked in a fruit filled hallway, all grown up and full of hate, always making magic in the library.

“I can ride,” you spare him, and Bakugou manages to look at you for a beat, to stare with jeweled eyes, before closing the door again.

A faint smell of meat and potatoes permeates the fresh air even with a new pair of shoes on. Bakugou huffs in his saddle. Todoroki doesn’t notice. The Takoban prince is too busy tacking your horse while his grooms watch on nervously.

“Just let them do it for her, get on already.”

“Certainly not.”

He knows it’s pointless but he would still rather work himself to fury with feather-brained Todoroki than sit with the image of you. Propped up in the bath with your hair down, a huge handprint scar wrapped around your bicep.

“Almost finished.”

Bakugou agonizes at the pace, but as his airhead companion finally secures the billet strap under the chest of a mottled cream gelding, Uraraka leads you into the stable. She knocks to announce your presence like that would do anything to dull the incessant shock of seeing you on two feet after just last night, wiping mageblood and tears from your cheeks.

You look insane. A black Alderan tunic you must have had tucked away somewhere and bright white Takoban riding pants. Blue strings poke off your hips at odd intervals like you’d ripped some of the baubles off but there are plenty more gems and silver seashells to catch the eye.

“Y/n,” Todoroki is animated when he says your name and Bakugou realizes he’s been staring. The Takoban prince rushes to meet you and your escort and crumples immediately to the ground.

Bakugou groans, head fully back, “Fucking– again? C’mon half n’ half, up.”

“Y/n, please accept my deepest apologies.” Todoroki always sort of sounds like he’s mumbling but this time he’s pressed his hands and face to the ground. You, with the quick wit, look between the prince and Uraraka at a loss for what to say. “You are a guest and to be injured on the grounds is unforgivable. The rogue mage will be caught. Captain Hawks has returned and his men patrol the city at–”

“Y/n!” Another voice, this one less grating, booms through the open air. Kirishima rounds the corner, startling staff, and Bakugou’s no psychic but you don’t seem thrilled. His champion rushes you– idiot– and stops just out of arm’s reach still in his bedclothes. He’s gotten more sleep than both of you combined but looks significantly shittier for it. “A soldier picked this out of rubble, I’m so sorry.” He opens his fist and perched in his soft hand like a pearl is your broach. White dragontooth. “We couldn’t find your halberd.”

There’s a moment of stillness for all involved, Todoroki on the ground, Kirishima and Uraraka beside you, before you turn sharp and stare directly at your prince. You are a painting. You’re always steadying an invisible weapon at your hip even in a nightgown, and where the fire in your eyes has died something hungry and possessive replaced it. Black like the ocean. Infinite. The jewelry in Bakugou’s ears begins to burn.

Todoroki raises his head curiously and muck and hay stick to his forehead. Groomsmen rush to wipe him off as you turn back and offer him a hand. Your bad hand, Bakugou notes from his high horse, and frowns with your next words to him. “Highness, please don’t muss yourself for me.”

One more movement after pulling Todoroki up, smooth like water– and it is so obvious that you are trained to kill– you pluck your broach out of Kirishima’s palm and fasten it to your chest as you spit at his feet.

Takoba is not endearing and Bakugou is on hour thirty-one without sleep. Everyone else might have forgotten but he surely hasn’t, the reason why Alderans are here at all. The observatory, a ball, the Takoban King and diplomatic relations. Bakugou sat through more meetings this month than the sum total of his life, in twinkling cold offices and throne rooms without fireplaces. Hardly time to breathe alone. He wraps his horse’s reins in his fingers in case he falls asleep with its canter over city cobblestones.

“Highness, there are too many blindspots.”

Bakugou opens his eyes with your words as he’s done for the whole afternoon, and frowns when he realizes for the thousandth time that you’re addressing Todoroki. The three of you ride at leisure down the central roads of the Takoban castletown. Every rocky step they take he looks forward to you, expecting this bump to be your last. Expecting you to finally slip sideways off your gelding in exhaustion like he so dearly would like to do. You don’t. You only bark at civilians to keep their distance or direct them away with tilts of your head. You are simply you again, riding tall and alert with no suggestion of the mage-eater you become in blue light. No hints that you have ever shed a tear in your life.

He shakes his head free of the thought. Citizens gawk, but generally don’t stop their errands to do anything more than watch as you all ride past.

“Astute. What do you recommend, Officer?”

Bakugou doesn’t need to open his eyes to know you hate being called an officer. He can hear it in the way you pause before responding, and then he growls through a laugh at the back of the caravan when you find the right words.

“I recommend not touring the town that potentially housed a fugitive.”

Todoroki probably planned this tour for Bakugou weeks ago, excited to show him all the developments to the city in the years he’s been away. He’s not one for change. Shinsou knocked him unconscious to keep him from fighting last night and the first thing the blue prince did upon waking from a terrorist attack was ask Bakugou to confirm today’s agenda.

“Is there a more private area included in this tour, Highness?”

“Yes.”

There’s a beat of silence and Bakugou snorts again.

“Could you please take us there?”

“Of course.”

The Takoban prince seems unaware of his dazzling presence as he guides his horse’s white head at a sharp turn to the west. Bakugou too, in his exhaustion, doesn’t realize how much attention he’s drawn from a city he’s so familiar with. A city so safe, its blue prince doesn’t need a guard.

“Oi,” you hiss on Bakugou’s other side and faster than he’s able to turn, you’re already pulling back on your reins to sidle around him. Your horse doesn’t seem the least bit disgruntled with the maneuver and flashes of consciousness pour between Bakugou’s eyes as he remembers bits of the night you arrived here, bleeding, begging. “Hands to yourself.”

Something pathetic like a dog whimpers below him and your prince peers over his thigh towards the cobblestones where a child is frozen between reaching out to touch his silver stirrup and staring in horror at you, a dark cloud behind them. The child, in modest warm clothes, backs away and flinches when your good arm jerks across your chest with your attention.

On his right, an older kid yelps and falls flat on his ass with two little hands clutching his head. Bakugou considers laughing out loud at this, husky and full of sleep; when he looks back at you, your hand hovers over your saddle’s grain bag and it becomes apparent you’ve walloped a child in the street with horse feed.

Everything feels insignificant when you’ve missed a night of sleep.

He has spent thirty one hours thinking of you. Watching you shoot, skipping lunch to hide, finding the words to speak to you. Being filled with so many things and then twisted excitement against your blade. Dread. Recounting your every step to one hundred officers. Searching for the hospital. Searching for your room.

You have spent those same thirty one hours awake, furious, burnt, bleeding, and then fully dressed on horseback. You are an exceptional guard. You are professional to a fault and it should drive him insane.

“You’re terrible with kids,” Bakugou rumbles as he rips a silver bauble off his vest and tosses it over his shoulder to the twerp flat on cobblestones.

You ride past him to follow Todoroki, “I manage you well enough.”

It doesn’t. Not even when you feign stoicism at the edge of the sea, not for a second. Because when Todoroki’s obnoxiously white horse leads the three of you past castle guards and down a private beaten path– under Bakugou’s favorite marble archway and out onto the beach, something hums in your black eyes.

It is the loveliest stretch of coast in the world, because it is protected by evil. On one side a steep grassy hill that bleeds into the marble castle, on the other, golden sand dotted with black volcanic rocks. The rocks tumble still and algaed into the blue sea, daring ships to beach there. Today the water rolls over itself in tiny frothing peaks as it does before a storm but the color is cold and charming and you have never before been so close to the edge of the world.

As your three horses trot onto soft sand, you turn your head to watch waves making their music and Bakugou can see your face outlined by the late sun. Your wide eyes. It will set soon. You are so much more adept than he is at hiding inside of yourself.

“The observatory,” Todoroki pipes up in the lead and points towards a white spire Bakugou’s never seen before, jutting like a mushroom off the side of the castle above you. In one movement, the blue prince dismounts from his horse and turns back towards his guests with an arm outstretched. “Come.”

Bakugou knows this beach. It’s broken his bones. He watches it every morning from his bedroom window.

Ahead of him the blue prince offers you his arm as you swing a leg over your saddle. Your body doesn’t hint to injury but you nod thankfully at the gesture and salt water rises in Bakugou’s throat.

“You were attacked in the old gardens last night,” Todoroki, standing too close, points up high towards the castle on the cliff, “All the way on the other side. The castle curves around the bend with the beach– although, it’s only cliff on that side.”

You stare as high as the sun will allow, “It’s a huge property.”

“Marble deposits in that cliff helped build the foundation. My family has lived here for hundreds of years.” Todoroki turns from your side and he is always so cluelessly pretty it’s irritating, to call out to Bakugou who’s frowning at the braids in his horse’s hair, “Katsuki did you k–”

But four syllables in and your prince is already waving his hand dismissively, “Fuck all the way off half n half. Give the captain your shit tour guide speech and leave me out of it.”

So you follow Todoroki, who nods, to the edge of the sea.

“Whose garden was it?” You murmur in casual interrogation.

“My mother’s. A long time ago.”

Bakugou knows exactly what question you’re holding back and so does Todoroki, “The king,” he offers. You nod again. You can hide but you’re no liar. Something sours for just a second.

As Bakugou pulls a knapsack off his saddle to use as a pillow while the two of you fuck around, you walk too slowly over the sand beside your tour guide and his first thought is injury until your lips part with timid breath. You move like a soldier, undeterred by uneven footing and fresh wounds, but you stare like a doe.

“Have you touched the sea before?”

You shake your head at the Takoban prince already a length ahead of you and tugging off his boots. The autumn air is warmed by the sun, but getting wet would make a miserably cold ride back.

“You should take off your shoes first,” he smiles. Bakugou spits over his shoulder and unsettles the horses.

You oblige the blue prince like you would any royal but you don’t do it quite so lifelessly as usual. Todoroki gives you his arm again for balance as you tug off one boot then another and bend at the waist to try and pull your pants legs away from the impending surf. You should look like a toddler, your prince should be laughing, but suddenly the sun has started to set and instead he realizes that somehow an entire day got away from him.

Bakugou formed his own opinions of the sea years ago, but he can’t remember the first time he saw it. Stepped foot in it. He reclines on the beach frowning, warm with sleep, and watches quietly.

You are mesmerized. Between black rocks you approach the water and stare. You bite your lip when you’re thinking this hard and the sun’s at just the right angle to reflect dancing shapes onto your chest. The frothing surf twinkles. It reaches for you with limp blue fingers. Two more times before you let it touch you and then your shoulders hitch.

Todoroki smiles, “Cold, isn’t it?”

“It’s alive.”

Do deer freeze in the first drops of a rainstorm? You aren’t made for the sea. You’re meant to hunt and make fires and sit under forest trees and eat plums in warm quarters. You shouldn’t have come.

Bakugou closes his eyes in the golden warmth and midnight pictures of you in the library come before sleep. Six years ago when curfew let up, you started eating alone in the library under the Great Oak and entirely ruining his time at peace to study wild magic. Sometimes you wore your uniform, sometimes a nightgown and cloak, and always he watched from the hallway above. Noting the nights your guard assignments kept you posted elsewhere. The sight of you sores something in him.

“Y/n!”

Bakugou’s eyes fly open when the cool-headed Todoroki actually raises his voice and the first thing he dreads is a half-dead mage rising from the waves you threw him into. He’s already up on an elbow to rise, but the blue prince has raced through the shallow water to where it hits his hip and grabs your arm– your bad arm– again. You’re mid sea-strong stride and many meters farther out than before your prince closed his eyes. Your riding pants are fully gray with wet. What are you doing?

“I saw something.”

Todoroki urges you inland, “What?” But you shake your head.

Your body rocks with the rhythm of strong tides like you’re dancing. Waves roll gently through you from the left and right and even with your back turned to him, Bakugou knows exactly what kind of face you’re making. What did you see? He was right this morning and cocky this afternoon, you should be in the hospital.

“You’re not strong enough for the tides, Y/n,” Todoroki starts, and your prince also knows a lecture from anyone other than your queen is going to whistle right through those fucking ears, “The shallows drop out just past that break, and you’ll exhaust yourself before the rip current releases you.”

Bakugou can see the scene play out like a script. You’ll acquiesce for no more reason than the Takoban prince outranks you, but before you do as you always have, sunset catches the corner of your face and something bright blinks in the blacks of your eyes. Something like candlelight.

“I’m alright, Highness.”

Bakugou twitches.

“You’re injured.”

It’s just a second you take to glance over your shoulder across the horizon and in that second both eyes blaze redhot like they’ve eaten your candles whole, and die black again just as quickly.

Then you nod, “Yes sir,” and accept the guidance of Todoroki’s arm back towards the shore while Bakugou watches propped on a tense bicep, studying his ache. You are a nightmare. A nightmare the sea wants to swallow, because as you’re led to shallow water two waves meet and a new break forms behind your thighs. The strength of the sea kicks yours and the Takoban prince’s feet uneven in the sand and the pair of you are sent backward a step and then forward by the hips into a beaching wave. In the setting sun the sea grows darker.

You resurface in just a second from clam shell surf silent and wide eyed, but Bakugou is already up. He should be laughing, especially as Todoroki rises from the water with a halo of foam blinking just as dumbfounded next to you. Seawater drips from your lips.

“Y/n, we are certainly not swimming now.”

And something entirely new happens. On your knees, soaked through, you stare at the blue prince for a beat and then drop your head back in laughter. Your tunic clings helplessly to the curves of your chest, shaking and expanding with your breath. The sound is starlight. Another wave, smaller, climbs over your shoulder while you sit in the surf and washes over your head. Your hair is made of seashells.

“You’ll get sick!” Snorting on water now, Todoroki tries to help you up but the receding tide sucks sand out from under you both, knocking you gently into one another, giggling together, and doused again. The sunset frames your wide grin. You are no longer in the library, in fact you are nowhere to be found.

“Give me your hand.”

The corners of your eyes are red from salt and crinkled with a smile when you tilt your head up towards Bakugou in the pinking sunset, wet to his knees above you with a strong arm outstretched. You shiver. You without magic. You with nine lives. Him staring at your seashell crown through messy blond hair.

He draws breath through bared teeth. It’s an ill joined feeling, how quickly your new smile drops, how quickly the stars hang themselves back up in the sky at the sight of him. You aren’t a doe, you’re a dragon. Quiet pertinacity bleeds black from you into the sea.

“You’ll ruin your pants, sir.”

And he’s no longer sure he could stop you from anything without killing you first.

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tagged angels ✧.* @nnubee @dilftaros @nonomesupposedto @zombiewarprincess @kotarousproperty @strawberry-mentos69 @sveetnn @eirlysian @lunrai @km7474 @arayoflia @annoyingleftpinky @noomaisdone @cr33pycrawler @iced-chai-tea-latte @cathwritestragediesnotsins @tragicallygray @idimmadontgiveashit @kooromin @k1tk4tkatsuki @litiri @kiwibao @kiwifuji @mmmaackerel @sarcasticlittlebook @condy-wants-a-cookie @mysticalfridge @dududubebo @falling4fandoms @katanaski @babitchsuki @romiinlove @cherripunch26 @acid-rain27 @madmayo @bakugouswh0r3 @heart-of-haunt @zukowantshishonourback @420mitskilover @ultracrii @nochuonii @carrobrumbrum @bkgthinker @chandiewashere @sleezy-axeriix @screechingdreameater @mecuryxmoonstone @onlysarcasm @ilovemushroomss @when-you-are-just-done @levisbae2 @flyhighinthesky @1astr0id1 @thebluespacecow @mizzfizz @king-shimura @butterscotch-ripple-icecream

couldn't tag for some reason :,( pls check your security settings!

#even in bkg's pov he still calls himself your prince #bakugou x reader #a hymn to black water #bakugo x reader #bnha fantasy au #mha fantasy au #bakugou fantasy au #bakugo fantasy au #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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scftizuku · 2 months ago

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Imagine bnha fantasy au with Katsuki who is a prince of a unknown nation that are known for having a partnership with dragons. He happens to also bear the responsibly to become the king of said nation; who meets the young traveler alchemist Izuku who is on a mission to find out who his father is but instead enters the unknown nation and crosses paths with Katsuki not expecting to fall in love with him.

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dekusdarling · 1 year ago

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Happy Birthday

“Shotoooooooo” was the voice that rang out, the voice that brought a grin to Shoto Todoroki’s face as he was poked and prodded in the cheek, an instrumental version of “Happy Birthday” playing in the background.

He almost didn’t want to open his eyes; this was perfect enough as is.

But eventually he did.

“Does IcyHot just never wake up?” The voice of a certain blond grumbled from what sounded like the doorframe, causing Shoto’s eyes to flutter open like a motherfucking Disney Prince.

What he opened his eyes to was basically straight out of a Disney movie in his own mind anyways.

Y/n was there, right in front of him, smiling like the angel they were as they pressed gentle kisses to his face.

“Morning, birthday boy,” they mumbled against his cheek, peppering him with kisses until he couldn’t help but laugh, sitting up in his bed. “Good morning, Y/n. Everyone.” He said with a nod, barely acknowledging the other people in the doorway, of which there were quite a lot. But his eyes were focused on the person in front of him, sitting on his bed and grinning like it was their own birthday.

It was refreshing, the clear excitement, all for him. All from the person he adored most, his partner, his friend, his crazy, wild, sweet, utterly wonderful lover.

He was in a perfect state of bliss the whole morning, where he was dragged to the table and fed numerous amounts of food, all tasty in their own ways, but much better when he had a certain someone on his lap, cradling his face while they fed him strawberries and eggs and toast. He was promised soba for lunch, just how he liked it. He was happy.

Really, truly happy, a happy he hadn’t felt in… ever.

He didn’t even have time to change, clad in his pajamas all day, hair tousled and teeth unbrushed, to which no one complained, and yet he felt anxious. He tried to ignore it, he knew why it was there. All he could think about was what would my old man say?

That wasn’t a thought he wished to have at the moment. It was his birthday, after all, he didn’t need to worry about things like hair and showers. He was 17 now.

It wasn’t until lunch was being made, by Bakugo, who had been nominated best cook a week ago (and was secretly proud of it), when Y/n wrapped their arms around his neck from behind, pressing kisses to his cheek and temple and whispered “Would you like to get dressed, my dearest heart?” to which he nodded and stood up, his mind hazy as he was led back to his dorm and into his bathroom, his hair being brushed for him, and his clothes being picked out.

He deserved it, it was his special day, being doted on came with that. Package deal.

But clearly his mind was elsewhere, something he didn’t realize until Y/n’s hand was on his, which was halfway through pulling off his shirt. A rare blush formed on his cheeks as he yanked his shirt back onto his abdomen, mumbling half thought out apologies.

“Something on your mind, Shoto?” They asked quietly, worriedly, their hands still on his as he nodded solemnly.

He didn’t know what he wanted, he had everything he needed. His partner, his friends, food, gifts, cake (ok, the cake wasn’t quite ready, but he knew it was coming), his famil- oh.

Oh.

He looked back up at them, a sense of true and utter embarrassment on his face as he whispered, “I miss my family.”

Words he didn’t think he would say today.

Birthdays at the Todoroki household were not celebrated in a very… traditional way.

Shoto often got a pat on the back from his old man, and a gift from Natsuo and Fuyumi, often something they’d bought with money they’d scraped together (they were too virtuous, i.e. prideful, to use Enji’s credit card). It wasn’t a whole lot, but it was normal.

He hadn’t spent a birthday away from the house yet. It was an upsetting thought, the mixed emotions whirling around his pretty little head and bringing tears to his two toned eyes, which he wiped away with confusion.

It was a heartbreaking sight, he looked so confused and upset, and on his birthday. Y/n wouldn’t stand for that. Not their baby.

Shoto was led out of the room so fast he almost got whiplash, tripping over his own feet and protesting quietly (“Y/n, I never got changed-”) as she dragged him to the common room and sat him on the couch, nodding to Momo, who brought out a computer, already dialing Fuyumi.

Fuyumi picked up immediately, a smile on her face as she set her own computer down, revealing herself with Natsuo and Enji, all wearing party hats, some of them (ahem, Endeavor) trying to pull the cardboard triangles off. Fuyumi elbowed Natsuo, and they all broke out into the “Happy Birthday” song, pushing and nudging like the perfect, imperfect family they were.

All for Shoto.

He could barely keep it together, tears dripping down his face as he talked, conversed normally with his family, his soba being handed to him quietly.

It really was the best birthday he ever had.

The cake, the song, the kisses Y/n gave him, all the way to the last hour, where Y/n was cuddled up with him, hoping to watch his birthday come to its end.

They fell asleep before it ended.

Shoto Todoroki ended his birthday with a smile on his face, truly happy.

Happy Birthday, Shoto.

#mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha x reader #bakugo #momo yaoyorozu #shoto x y/n #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #shoto torodoki #todofam #happy birthday #you precious little prince :’(

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hahawasabi · 10 months ago

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grinding on a new animation project, it'll have my beloved loser (affectionate) nezha,

the lofl chang'e (no srsly, SHE IS SO CUTE.),

and some other characters i wont note, or smthn.

this is all because im bored

..i probably wont finish it.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #li nezha #nezha lmk #lmk nezha #third lotus prince #I AM PRAYING THAT MY ANIMATING SKILLS ARE BETTER #DO NOT BRING ME BACK TO MY CRINGY “I LOVE BAKUGO AND HE IS MINE” ANIMATIONS #IN WHICH I DIDNT EVEN HAVE A CHANNEL SO I PRETENDED I HAD HATERS 😭😭😭#chang'e lmk #THE ANIMATIONS STILL HAUNT ME #GET THEM OUT OF MY SKIN PLEASSSEEEEEEEEEEE #OH GOD #DO NOT REMIND ME OF MY CRINGY AHHH ANIMATION MEME PHASE #hahawasabi #SOMEONE HELP ME 😭😭😭

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lilacgaby · 4 months ago

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prince!bakugo x servant!reader brainrot.

prince!katsuki, who had gotten so used to your presence. your family had been working for royalty for countless generations now. you were raised together as kids, growing up as friends and eventually being chosen to be his personal servant.

he grew used to your presence and was always fond of you. he liked how he could be playful with you, jokingly insult you a bit, snap at you, and curse but you wouldn't judge him or tell him to change himself, just would laugh or egg him on.

you two grew close, you'd basically do everything together, from his studies to all his meals, baths, and outdoor activities. you'd keep track and make sure he was on time for each one, your presence offering him confidence. he never told you that you didn't have to attend each of his activities, because he really wanted you there.

a forbidden, unspoken romance blossomed between you two. one that became apparent a night you wanted to take off to go on a date, where he, in a moment of passion shouted: "but i forbid you from dating anyone but me!"

you two hadn't spoken of that night since, but declined the date, which he was thankful for. they were both wordlessly saving themselves for eachother, at least until he needed a wife.

you assumed he'd never even look twice at you again after the ball he was forced to attend was full of gorgeous, eligible princesses. all of whom wanted to be with him, were more royal and mannered than you could be in your dreams.

but all those voices in your head were silenced when he was to announce his chosen bride, and without a moment of hesitation his hand pointed to you.

#im sickk that should be me #lilac speaks꧂#prince!bakugo #bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugo drabble #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo katuski #bakugo x you #bnha #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha

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bbkoolkatz · 9 days ago

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pairing: barbarian prince! katsuki bakugo x fem! reader.

content warnings: FEMALE READER! violence and injuries, cultural discrimination, prejudice, xenophobia, social ostracism toward the protagonist (you), intense conflict, gender dynamics, emotional distress, animal death, harsh environments, power struggles, language barriers. [lemme know if I forgot something]

sorry if this seems scattered. it was written when I got time and I barely had any during the past two days ╥﹏╥

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1 ~ 𝕴 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗! 4.1k words

prologue!

your world got significantly smaller, restricted behind these stone walls. you sat on the edge of the window of your new chambers, staring out at the vast, jagged landscapes that surrounded you, awaiting your husband's daily visit.

for these past few days, everytime katsuki came to see you, he was covered in soot, sweat, or this amazingly, deliciously, sweet aroma. and you wondered which of them he'd come with today.

the biting chill of the air that graced your skin gave you goosebumps, as you shivered, taking a frigid breath in, "ragna," you murmur, turning to the tall, sturdy woman who stood silently by the doorway.

she stepped forward, expression neutral as ever. she'd been a constant presence since your arrival, being the only one capable of bridging the gap between you and this new world. "yes?" she answered, waiting for what comes next.

"can you tell me about your people?" you hesitated a bit, "i want to understand." patting the cold stone next you.

ragna's expression softened slightly, and she moved closer, making herself comfortable, "of course, my lady," she smiled, "what do you wish to know?"

you gestured vaguely to the walls around you, "everything. how things work. the customs. start anywhere."

her lips twitched, holding back her eager grin, "as you can see, my lady, our clan is nothing like your kingdom," she started, guiding your head to look out the window again and down to where the people were hard at worked in their fields, and moving about with logs on their shoulders, "here, our women hold power. they are life and death."

your brows knitted together at her word phrasing, "how so?"

ragna's voice grew steadier, carrying a note of pride as she spoke of her people, "in your land, men rule because they are stronger. here, women rule because they create. the clan mother is the heart of the people. she births the warriors, guides their steps, and ensures the clan's survival. she is the one who holds the true power."

"she is our leader. a fierce woman, strong and wise." her hands form fists subconsciously, "the men may wield their axes, but it is she who determines where and when they fall. she is not to be taken lightly."

you leaned back, feeling every bump of stone bound together against you, processing everything she said. "this is why they seem so different from my people?"

ragna nodded, "men may sacrifice their children for their people, but women sacrifice everything for their children." your thoughts briefly flashed back to your father... "your arrival disrupts the balance, my lady. some believe you weaken us. others fear change. you are our future." bringing a hand forward to hold yours.

"do they hate me?" you blurted out, fiddling with your fingers as you looked up to the conflicted look that overtook ragna's face.

she hesitated, thinking carefully, "some fear you. others... yes, they do hate you. they see you as weak." she didn't lie, if they could they'd iliminate the weakness on the spot.

your chest tightened, but you straightened your posture, brushing it off. "they too were once weak." you brought your stare up to her's, "and just as they grew stronger, so will i."

before ragna could reply, heavy footsteps echoed in the hall, and both your heads quickly snapped toward the door. katsuki entered, his broad frame making your heart race as your eyes land on him, his presence thickening the atmosphere.

his red hot glare, sharp and unyielding, flicked between you then ragna, and back you, all the way down to your trinket covered ankles that jingle as you walk.

his beefy arms squish you into his chest—a custom you introduced him to as a way of greeting you instead of awkwardly standing in front of you for 20 minutes— and you couldn't help the stupid smile that crawled it's way onto your face, "hvat eru þeir að segja?" katsuki rasped, his tone curt and seemingly straight to the point. ragna stood up, and rattled out a bunch of incoherent words and sentences and your eyes darted up between them, back and forth.

katsuki's jaw clenched, his gaze shifting back down to you. "ekki skiptir máli hvað þeir hugsa," he snapped, turning away. though you didn't understand his words, his displeasure was clear.

ragna's translation was quiet, her attention coming back to you, "he says it doesn't matter what they think."

you rose to your feet, immediately connecting the dots—ragna ratted your doubts out...— you lift your chin to look up at him, "it does matter. if they hate me, it's only a matter of time before they act on it." and ragna's voice echoed behind yours.

katsuki's lip twitched in frustration, but he said nothing. instead, he rested a hefty palm on your head, leaving behind a tense silence that settled heavily in the room.

later that day, katsuki returned to your room, plopping—what you think—is a dead boar, down in front of you and he kneeled beside it. you immediately look at ragna for help. "it's for making you sad you earlier." she giggled, resting a hand on her belly.

"sad? i wasn't- oh..." you too started giggling as you realized, "will he do this everytime i get upset?" you chuckled, cradling his head in the soft cushions of your chest, trying your best to hold in your laugh as she nodded. "i'd like for you to show me your village, instead of a dead animal, katsuki." and ragna's voice followed yours.

and finally, he brought you out of the stronghold for the first time since your arrival, the steady rhythm of his boots, leaving heavy crunches in the gravel as he walked beside you, and ragna trailed a little ways behind. you could feel her eyes burning the back of your head with every step you take...

your skin tightened, perking your nipples under the thin cotton draping your body, as the wind prickled your skin, sending a violent shiver down your entire body. katsuki shrugged his fur cloak off and threw it on you, sending you in a stumble with the force.

"hæ!" he yelled, grabbing your arm, "i'm okay, i'm okay," you giggled, looking up at him, "afsökun," he roughly dusted you off. ragna had rushed to you but with a simple raise of your hand she stopped short.

"thakka thyer," you smiled at him, only to grin wider when you saw the shocked look on his face at the almost familiar sounds that graced his ears. "shall we?" you hug his cloak closer as you continue down the dirt paths that lead into the village, tucked into the valley where the stronghold stood tall against the horizon.

the houses were made of timber and stone, thick roofs sloping against the cold, with the distant hum of activity filling the air. you had never seen a place like this—untamed, rough, and yet strangely beautiful in its own way. the land, harsh and unforgiving, matched the people. you had heard stories of their legendary strength, their ability to overthrow kings and destroy rulers. they were known as conquerors, fierce and untouchable, but now, walking through their village, you see a different side.

the first thing that struck you was the children. in your kingdom, children were raised in luxury and comfort, but here they played in the dirt, their faces smeared with earth and joy. the laughter that filled the air was light, carefree, but it wasn't the kind of joy you were accustomed to. it was raw, unrestrained, and full of life.

a little girl with wild hair and a smudge of dirt on her cheek approached you, holding out a small wooden doll. she spoke in their tongue, too fast for you to try to understand, her wide eyes full of hope.

ragna bent down, translating with a smile, "she says you're very beautiful, that she's never seen someone like you before."

you laughed softly, reaching out to take the doll, the weight of it simple, yet comforting. "thakka thyer," you murmured, hoping you said it right, because katsuki looked at you like you were blabbing nonsense when you said it to him...

the little girl beamed, rushing off to join the other children. you couldn't help but watch her go, her carefree spirit so unlike anything you had known. these children, these villagers— had never been pampered. they never had the luxury you grew up with, and yet, they had things you didn't.

as you walked further into the heart of the village, you saw a group of women working together to prepare food—big cauldrons over roaring fires, knives slicing through meat with practiced ease.

their eyes flicked to you briefly in curiosity. it seems this was their first time seeing a someone as small as you. though their stares started to feel more and more judgemental the longer they looked...

a small group of older men sat nearby, their muscles thick and solid, but their hands were not gripping axes. instead, they were working leather, stitching it together with slow, deliberate motions. they were crafting, mending, tending to what was necessary for survival.

it was a sight that shocked you, the great warriors who were known for their brutality now focused on such delicate, mundane work. you had imagined them only as conquerors, towering giants, but here they were, doing what needed to be done for the survival of their people.

you glanced at katsuki, his expression unreadable as he walked beside you, taking in his features that glowed in the sunset. he looked like the rest of them—stoic, hard, and powerful.

ragna, ever the silent observer, noted the look on your face. "is it so different from what you imagined? my lady," she leaned to whisper.

you nodded slowly, taking in the sight of the men working alongside the women, "they're strong," you murmured, "but also... gentle, in ways i didn't expect."

ragna smiled, "that is the balance of our people. every piece is needed. every role is vital." the softness of her expression a stark contrast to the roughness of her surroundings.

as you walked further, you passed the blacksmith's forge, the rhythmic pounding of a hammer against metal ringing in the air. you had seen blacksmiths at work before, but the sheer power of the men and women here was something else. their muscles flexed with each strike, their movements coordinated, and their fire-forged weapons were some of the finest you had ever seen. the blacksmiths, covered in soot and sweat, didn't look up as you passed, their focus unwavering.

you caught sight of an older woman sitting on a bench near the edge of the village, her back hunched but her gaze fierce. her hands were gnarled from years of labor, but she sat with an air of quiet authority, watching the village with eyes that had seen more than most. you felt a sudden urge to approach her, you wanted to know what it was like to live a life so full of struggle, of strength, and survival. you needed to ask.

but katsuki's voice broke your thoughts. "vér skyldum fara aptr." he said, his tone sharp,—almost a warning or perhaps? or just a desire to keep you close?

you nodded, but before turning to head back, you gave the old lady one last glance, before grabbing on to your husband's arm.

nightfall came quickly, and the air was biting as the sun descended behind the jagged mountains. ragna was at your side, her presence comforting, though the silence between you was palpable. neither of you spoke as you approached the large wooden doors of the council hall, guarded by two massive warriors. their eyes flicked to you, but they didn't move. there was no hostility in their gaze, but the wariness remained, a reminder of how much you still had to prove...

one of the guards nodded at ragna as she spoke briefly in their language. the doors creaked open, revealing the vast room inside—a dimly lit chamber lined with long tables where the most powerful figures of the clan gathered. the air was thick with the scent of stone, fire, and old wood. the council members were already seated, their faces solemn and stern as they discussed matters that shaped the future of their people.

you couldn't help but feel the weight of all their eyes on you, most didn't understand you and didn't care to. you were katsuki's wife, a foreigner, an outsider—and that was all they saw. ragna whispered at your side, "do not be afraid. you are here to learn, my lady."

with a deep breath, you nodded, chin lifting in quiet defiance. no matter how much they resented your presence, you would stand your ground. you weren't just a pawn in their game—at least, not anymore.

the high table at the front of the room was where katsuki sat, his back straight and posture commanding. his eyes flicked to you as you made your way toward the empty seat beside him. the others at the table were much older, faces lined with experience, each one dressed in the heavy furs and iron of their clan, exuding authority and strength. katuki's mother, clan mother, was present as well, seated at the head of the table. her fierce gaze swept over you as you sat, unbothered by your arrival but no less critical.

"sittu hér," katsuki muttered in his native tongue, his voice low and tight, barely above a growl. though his words weren't exactly warm, there was something almost comforting in the gruff tone.

ragna translated softly, in your ear. "he said, sit here."

you nodded to him, your eyes meeting his for a moment before you focused on the other members of the council. you felt every set of eyes on you as if they were all waiting for you to make a mistake, to stumble.

the clan mother spoke, her voice booming, though her words were foreign to you. it was ragna who translated once again. "we have gathered to discuss the future of the clan. there are whispers among our people that threaten our recent unity, and we must decide how we will face these challenges."

your breath caught in your throat at the translation. you knew there were whispers, rumors— but hearing it spoken aloud in such a cold, clinical manner made it finally feel real. you glanced at katsuki, but he gave no sign that he was bothered by the news. his gaze was unwavering and his posture still.

"torvok's faction grows restless," one of the councilmen said, his voice deep and gravelly, though you could sense the unease in his tone. his thick beard seemed to be the only soft feature of his face, as his eyes were sharp, calculating. "they say the blood of our people is being tainted by this foreign bride."

the words stung, though you refused to show it. instead, you kept your chin lifted and your gaze unwavering, even as the room seemed to close in around you.

the clan mother's voice broke through again, sharp and clear. "i am not blind to the whispers. torvok and his followers believe that they can stir unrest, but they will not succeed. our future is bound by the strength of our warriors, but also by the strength of our alliances. the marriage to the princess was not made lightly. it was done for the good of the clan, for the survival of our people."

katsuki's eyes flicked to you briefly, the tension between the two of you unspoken. he was angry, not at you, at those who dared to question his strength and your place in the clan.

"the alliance between our peoples is the only way forward," another councilman spoke, his voice harsh but carrying a trace of concern. "if torvok and his followers believe the princess is weak-"

"gæt þín tungu. þú munt eigi mæla svá um konu mína aftur." katsuki slammed his fist onto the table, his voice echoing through the chamber.

ragna's translation was swift, "he says, you will show respect." she swallowed the dryness in her throat and you passed her your goblet of spring water, and she reluctantly accepted.

the council members exchanged uneasy glances, but none spoke further. the clan mother observed the exchange quietly before speaking again. "we will deal with torvok's rebellion. it will not disrupt the balance of this clan. the princess will learn the ways of our people, and she will prove her strength."

her gaze shifted to you, calculating but not unkind, the weight of her approval—or disapproval—hanging in the air. "þú munt sýna þeim hve sterkur þú í raun ert."

"she says, you will show your true strength to the people." you nodded, your posture straight and unwavering.

☆.｡.:*❀.｡.:*☆

the next day when evening came, a feast was held in the great hall. the smell of roasted meat filled your nostrils and the crackle of firewood greeted your ears, with the low hum of conversations spoken in harsh, guttural tones. you sat beside katsuki, your presence a beacon of contrast amidst the towering figures of the barbarian clan.

you felt their eyes, sharp and suspicious, cutting through your skin like shards of ice. but you kept your gaze level and expression neutral, even as your pulse quickened.

"ragna," you whispered, leaning toward the woman beside you, "are they always this... tense?"

ragna's reply was cautious, as she too had her suspicions, "they are watching... waiting for something..."

you nodded, fingers gripping the edge of your goblet as you brought it up to your lips.

suddenly, a crash echoed through the hall, drawing all eyes to the far side of the room. a figure, cloaked in shadow, leapt forward, a blade glinting in the firelight.

your breath hitched as the assassin lunged forward, and before you could react, katsuki was on his feet, his movements swift and precise. he intercepted the attacker with a growl that reverberated throughout the hall.

"ek mun drepa þig fyrir þetta!" katsuki snarled, his voice a thunderclap of rage.

the assassin struggled, but katsuki's strength was overwhelming. he slammed the man onto the floor, the blade skittering out of reach.

ragna translated softly, "he says he'll kill him for this." leaning down to your ear.

"katsuki," you called, a soft voice cutting through the chaos. he paused, his eyes burning as they met yours.

"bring him to me," you ordered firmly, walking out from behind your table. ragna's translation was immediate, and for a moment, katsuki hesitated. then, with a grunt of annoyance, he dragged the attacker toward you.

the hall fell silent as you stepped forward, your small frame dwarfed by the imposing figures surrounding you. your eyes swept over the room, locking briefly with those who dared to look your way.

"if you think me unworthy of becoming clan mother, then feel free to challenge me." you announced, "do not sneak or cower to take my life." you pick the assassin's dagger up, admiring the shine it gave with the firelight.

ragna translated each word, her voice carrying them with the same fierce determination.

"what is your name?" you asked, looking down at the struggling figure under your husband's strong arms and he mumbles something while laughing, that makes katsuki dig his knee into his spine even more, "my lady, i cannot translate what he said..."

"you cannot?" you seethed, "or you will not?" turning to face a flustered ragna... "very well."

"raise him to his knees," you spat, watching every muscle flex as your husband obeyed. blood trickled from the corner of the assassin's mouth, his defiance still burning in his eyes despite katsuki's unrelenting grip on his shoulder.

your heart was racing, but you forced your voice to remain steady, "do you have a family?" your foreign words sharp and clipped ringing through the hall. ragna, standing by your side, quickly translated. and his head shot up, giving you a good look of his entire face.

he then spat on the ground near your bare feet, muttering something in his language. katsuki snarled, his hand tightening on the man's shoulder, forcing him lower.

"he refuses to answer," ragna said softly.

"so he does have a family..." you grinned, rubbing the handle of the well crafted dagger. "what is your name?" you asked, tilting your head as you burned the image of his face in your head. short black hair stuck to his forehead as he hugged and turned his head away.

"he refuses to answer that as well, my lady..."

you took a breath in, "it seems he is not proud of his actions. a man who hides his name, does not deserve the dignity of forgiveness."

the rest of the clan murmur at your boldness, their guttural voices rising and falling in the background. your husband's usually sharp gaze now fell soft, with a mixture of surprise and intrigue glinting in his eyes.

"tell them this," you turned to ragna, "this man attempted to end my life, not out of bravery but out of fear—fear of change, fear of the unknown." you looked down at him in pity, trying to think of a suitable punishment. "such fear has no place here."

ragna translated, steadily carrying the weight of your words.

"i will not demand his life," you continued, your voice ringing clear. "but he must face the consequences of his actions." you paused again, thinking. "let him carry a mark that will remind him, and everyone here, of his cowardice."

the murmurs grew louder, rippling through the gathered barbarians.

"what... mark?" ragna asked quietly, her brow furrowing in concern.

"hmm... i'm not sure," you pat your chin with the dagger in thought, "oh! i've got it!" you clap, "burn the mark of a coward into his left cheek for all to see." you clasp your hands in content, a bitter smile itching it's way across your lips.

ragna hesitated, her lips parting as though to argue, but katsuki spoke first, his voice low and guttural.

"bróðir," katsuki barked, gesturing toward one of the guards nearby, he stepped forward, his expression grim as he produced a branding iron. the clan fell silent, the air thick with tension.

you stepped aside, allowing the guard to heat the iron in the nearby fire and you turned to the gathered clan, voice strong in your chest, "let this be a warning to all who think to act against me. i am not a woman to be underestimated." something came over you, you couldn't hold back your words... "i am your future clan mother, and i will protect what is mine."

when the iron was ready, the guard approached the assassin, who now struggled against katsuki's hold, his defiance finally giving way to fear. katsuki held him steady, his jaw tight as the iron was pressed against the man's skin.

his screams tore through the hall, echoing off the stone walls. the scent of burning flesh filled the air, and the mark—a simple, sharp rune symbolizing cowardice—was left seared into the flesh of the man's cheek.

"this is mercy," you said firmly, "remember it."

katsuki released the attacker, who crumpled to the ground, clutching his face. katsuki's sharp eyes swept over the gathered crowd before he barked a command, sending the guards to drag the branded man away.

the hall remained silent, every pair of eyes now fixed on you as your pulse thundered in your ears, but you held your ground with your chin raised high.

katsuki stepped beside you his presence imposing and protective. he said nothing, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary.

"i will say it again for those who did not hear me the first time." you paused, letting ragna finish her translation, "if you think me unworthy, you are welcome to challenge me." gesturing to yourself, "but know this, i will not fall easily."

"i will protect my people everything i have." you promised, "ég mun verða móðir!" and they exchanged shocked looks, at the familiar words rolling off your tongue.

»»————> 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 <————««

"hvat eru þeir að segja?" - what are they saying?

"ekki skiptir máli hvað þeir hugsa." - it doesn’t matter what they think.

"hæ" - hey! or oi!

"afsökun" - apologies

"þakka þér" pronounced "thakka thyer" - thank you. [it's written in pronunciation form when reader speaks 'cause she's learning.]

"vér skyldum fara aptr." - we should head back.

"gæt þín tungu. þú munt eigi mæla svá um konu mína aftur" - watch yourself. you will not speak of my wife in such a way again.

"þú munt sýna þeim hve sterkur þú í raun ert" - you'll show them how strong you really are.

"ek mun drepa þig fyrir þetta!" - i'll kill you for this!

"bróðir" - brother [because katsuki's mother is clan mother, he referred to the guard as brother.]

"ég mun verða móðir!" - i will become mother

if you already asked to be in the tag list and you're not there then please check your settings and fix it accordingly or ensure that you have at least one post on your blog and ask again.

»»————> 𝖙𝖆𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙!

@twoplayergaymers @ch3rryjampi3 @lxdystxrdustt @selfishgucci @sleepyfxce @depressed-waffle-time @abinformyobsessions @kodzubaby @cottagedumpling @msjaeger @condy-wants-a-cookie @who-xo @naiomiwinchester @your-mum3000 @weebperson2003 @koigeidi @lanadelgarf @misaki-kira8 @lightsinmycity

mlist!

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