#prince todoroki shouto

[bioplast-hero]

Heart-piece

3.5k • teen • TodoBaku

“Your mind is made up.” Shouto shuts his eyes briefly. His mouth draws a neutral line, an utter lie. “No point in arguing.” “That’s where you’re wrong.” Katsuki takes another step, slowly closing the distance. “You could stand to fight a little more for what you want.” “You forget yourself.” Shouto tips his chin up in challenge. Katsuki likes it—no, he loves it. It lights a fire in his veins. “What do you know of what I want?” “Suppose we’ll find out.” “Wha—” The word is lost to Katsuki’s mouth. For a blistering moment, the prince freezes in his arms, stony against the heat of his lips. Katsuki’s palm cups his jaw, holding on, and he banishes the tremor in it. Please, he thinks. Prove me right.

Katsuki has been at the palace too long. He must return to his homeland, but he refuses to leave a piece of himself behind when he does.

👑 prince!Todoroki x barbarian!Bakugou, for Fantasy2TopWeek day 4 prompts: Crown / “Is this what you’re searching for?”

[Read the fic on AO3]

[faun-the-fawn77]

despite having to work tomorrow…i got some writing done in this cause i was just feeling it👨‍🦯i’m at 2223 words and i’m not even halfway… i think this might be my longest oneshot😭AND IT HAS A PART TWO!?!? I really hope ya’ll enjoy this one cause i poured my heart and soul into this🤞😮‍💨

if you wish to request something then don’t be afraid to ask!! all info is in my pinned post on my page:)

[deadboyswalking]

The Prince And His Reflection

[One of the horror stories from “Tales From Halloween: An Anthology”] 

Prince Shouto shivered, the cold air of the approaching winter cutting through his thick cloak as he made his way home through the woods. Even though he was usually a fan of winter, the lonesome journey on the frigid, clear night made him long for his warm bed, his cat, and a hot cup of tea.

He held his lantern further aloft as he carried on, the new moon leaving the woods even darker than usual, so dark that even his lantern barely penetrated the unmarked footpath in front of him. Though, as a skilled warrior, Shouto was perfectly capable of defending himself from the common cutthroats and bandits on the main road, he wasn’t exactly supposed to be sneaking out at night. The king would be angry if he found out, and his father’s wrath was something Shouto would rather avoid.

The twists in the path were hard to see, and it wasn’t long before Shouto found himself in a beautiful grotto with an unfamiliar waterfall, gleaming in the dark as the waters tumbled down to the small, dark pond under it. Shouto’s eyes widened with wonder and he stumbled forward, as if hypnotized. In the lamp’s light, the clear water showed his reflection perfectly, though the flickering flames and rushing water apparently distorted the image. Mirror Shouto seemed to… smile at him, and Shouto himself was not smiling. Childishly, the prince held up a hand and waved; the reflection waved back, of course, as reflections do.

He laughed at his own foolishness, getting scared of a trick of the light, and turned away from the waterfall to trace his way back to the correct path. The odd hold it had had over him had vanished like smoke, but Shouto immediately noticed something was off when he exited the grotto. He could hear the animals, the insects, the rustling wind, all of the ordinary sounds of the forest washing over him like cool fog.

It was at that moment he realized that despite the free-flowing water, the grotto had been dead silent, not even the sound of Shouto’s heartbeat and breathing able to break through the tranquility.

A shiver ran down his spine; the cold, perhaps.

Or perhaps something else.

Subconsciously, Shouto touched the sword at his hip, assured of its sharp steel, and lifted the lantern higher. The path. He had to find his way back to the path. Feet aching in his boots, he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. Was it two curves left, and then one right? Or two rights and a left? The tree, where was the ancient pine tree with the carving in the center?

Shouto…

The prince’s breath caught in his chest at the sound of the whisper, so quiet and yet so close he could practically feel it against his nape. He whipped around frantically, the lamp casting new shadows in the seclusion of the midnight forest, trying to keep his heart calm as he stared into the endless black that surrounded him.

He was alone.

Shouto was so very tired, it must have been his imagination. Yes, just his imagination. He tried to focus, finding the correct twist on the path and continuing home, the looming silhouette of the ancient pine in the far distance. He had apparently wandered farther than he’d thought to end up in that strange, silent grotto.

Shouto…

“Who’s there?” he shouted, searching for a vagabond who did not appear before his eyes.

Shouto….

“Path.. where’s the path?” Shouto cried out, looking down to see the way had disappeared, gone as if it had never existed. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as a whispering laugh passed across it, like a caress from a dead man’s hand.

Mother hated you, didn’t she, Shouto? Isn’t that why she ruined your pretty face?

His heart beat a rapid tattoo against his ribs and Shouto broke into a run, mismatched eyes fixed on the tree that seemed to get smaller and smaller as he approached it, a perversion of the way things should be, by all natural logic.

Ah, sweet Shouto, but it wasn’t really her, was it? It was him, it was always him. I know you, Shouto.

“You know nothing!” Shouto yelled back at…it.

The whisper, the voice was so intimately familiar, it almost sounded like… no, no, that was impossible! Shouto stopped dead in his tracks.,

Or, at least, he tried to, finding himself pulled forward by that same hypnotic magnetism.

The world went silent again as the divine grotto came into his sight.

He’s the reason Mother’s under the lake.

Shouto stumbled forward, tripping over his own feet as he tried to pull away.

I’ve seen your dreams, Shouto, all that beautiful blood that waltzes through your mind in the night, in the dark.

“Th-that’s not-” Shouto stuttered, the waterfall like a river of ink in front of him, illuminated only by the gradually dimming light of his lantern as the candle burned down to the wick.

Not you?

“Yes,” Shouto gulped.

Oh, but it is you, Shouto. The real you. And so am I.

The lantern flared bright and Shouto nearly dropped it when he beheld the horrific reflection before him, its hands and arms soaked in the vivid crimson that dripped off his sword, a golden crown at its feet.

He was sick, he was going to be sick.

Home, he wanted his room and his bed and his cat and his tea, wanted to be out of these freezing woods and away from the things that slithered and whispered in the dark.

He whirled around, tried to run, tried to break the hold the devil’s grotto held over him.

Strong hands clasped his wrists, coated in an odd mixture of sticky wet and cracking dry.

The last thing Prince Shouto saw before the candle went out was his own face, spattered thoroughly with blood, the rapidly congealing ruby cut through with an unseeing blank stare and a manic grin that threatened to split it in two.

Shouto screamed.

                                           👑👑👑👑👑

Shouto awoke in his bed, his cat curled up on his chest, as usual. He gently lifted her off amid many complaints and stretched, yawning as he blinked himself awake in the early morning light. Funny, he didn’t remember getting home last night…

There was a commotion in the courtyard below, audible even through Shouto’s window, Sir Iida Tenya’s tense voice shouting instructions at the other royal guards. Frowning, Shouto slid out of bed and went to the window to see what the raucous noise at such an early hour was all about.

The blood drained from his pale face as he saw the set of crimson handprints on his windowsill.

Sticky wet.

Cracking dry.

And as he placed his own trembling hands over them, they matched perfectly.

[asiriyep]

Tododeku Week 2024.

Day 4: Crossover.

Conspiracy theorists.

@tododekuweek

[andypantsx3]

part ii of the demon prince shouto au (1.5k)

SUMMARY: You learn just what kind of ancient bond Shouto has invoked to protect you, and come to terms with what that means for your future.

TAGS/WARNINGS: modern supernatural au, aged up characters, demons, bonding bites/bonding fever, fem pronouns + afab reader, demon courting behavior, no nsft stuff in this one but discussion of nsft topics, 18+ mdni please!

"What the hell was that?" you demand, rounding on Shouto.

You think you catch the flash of slitted pupils before the demon prince blinks, the snarl fading from his mouth. He looks down at you, eyes flickering over the torn collar of your shirt, your blood already drying into the frayed edges. There's some at the corner of his mouth, and he runs a thumb over it, swiping it off.

You try very hard not to notice that he presses the pad to his mouth, tongue flickering out to catch the droplets.

"Touya," he says by way of explanation. Like that was at all what you were asking about.

"Obviously that was Touya!" You frown up at him. "I mean the biting, Shouto! What the fuck?"

Shouto's gaze flicks to the bite mark marring the space where your throat meets your shoulder. He blinks slowly, like a cat surveying a roll of toilet paper it's shredded, pleased.

"He wanted to take you in punishment," he says, his fingers lifting to linger over the bite. "But he couldn't take you if you were mine."

"Is that what this is?" you demand. "Your nameplate? 'Property of demon prince number three, do not touch'?"

Like a kid who had to have their name scrawled onto the tags of all their clothing, the cover pages of their books! Un-fucking-believable.

"It is...a bonding bite, yes," Shouto admits as his fingers finally touch it. A hot stinging sensation rises to meet them and you wince.

You do not quite love the sound of that.

"A what?"

"A bonding bite," Shouto repeats, his voice hitching into a strange, almost-purr that you've never heard from him before. His fingers brush the mark gently again this time, and there is some whisper of feeling at the corner of your mind.

"Why are you saying it like that?" you ask, a weird feeling rising in your chest. It shivers through your limbs, leaving you feeling hot and thready and a little bit weak.

You find yourself gripping Shouto's bicep in an effort to stay upright, the feeling under your skin growing even hotter when it dawns on you how large and solid it is under your palm.

Shouto adjusts you against him, and you realize you're still caged in the circle of his arms. The demon prince is so very warm against you, hard all over with pale, lean muscle, and there is a look on his handsome face that you've never seen before.

"We will need to complete the bond," he says, his voice dipping even lower, softer. Those mismatched eyes flicker back to your bite, and his fingers smooth over it again, petting gently. "I will wait until you are ready."

You squint at him, trying to pay attention to the shape of his words through the sudden fog in your brain. "What bond? What completion is there?"

Shouto's eyes darken, and the hand at your back tightens on you just the tiniest bit. "The marriage bond. It will be completed with our coupling."

It's only his grip on you that stops you from meeting the floor when your knees give out from underneath you.

"Marriage bond?" you echo, a thousand feelings flashing through you all at once with the force of a firebomb. "Marriage bond? You just demon married me?"

This time, Shouto does purr. You can very much feel the thrum of his chest under your hand.

"Yes," he says, his thumb smoothing across your back. "It is a little different than human custom—and far more serious. There are points of connection you cannot sever."

You feel like you hear the echo of his words again, in the back of your own mind, and you realize all at once that that wasn't just you hallucinating. You could hear him, in your mind, his voice as soft and low and perfectly clear as if he'd spoken out loud.

Demon married. You had just gotten fucking shotgun wedding demon married with some sort of telepathic connection to the Third Prince of Hell.

It was even more of a fever dream than when you'd learned what Shouto truly was, and even more unbelievable than when he decided to stick around, picking out all your shows on Hulu and eating through your shrimp chips.

He was super weird, but strangely sweet, and toe-curlingly, brain-meltingly, jaw-droppingly handsome. You could not deny you'd enjoyed your time spent with him, these past couple of months. You thought of him as a close friend and a treasured roommate, weirdly enough. But to get married? Just like that? To a literal demon prince born in the fires of hell itself?

"Why...? What could possibly mean that we have to...?" you garble out, still woozy.

Shouto takes this as his cue to hitch you higher in his grip, carrying you over to the couch you'd abandoned when Touya had first stepped through the portal into your living room. He arranges you over him, still pressed chest-to-chest, so that you're half-sprawled on top of him, his expression still that of a pleased tomcat.

"He wanted to take you," Shouto says, the hint of a growl in his normally even, deadpan tone. "But if you are mine he cannot touch you, as it would be equivalent to touching me. It would open up a succession war."

His hands smooth over you, down your back, down the skin of your waist where your sweater has ridden up, his touch sweet but possessive.

You suppress a shiver.

"He wanted me to claim you, I know that much," Shouto continues. "I want to figure out why. But we will need to complete the bonding before I can leave you to talk to Natsuo and Fuyumi."

Complete the bonding. The words clatter around in your brain, their implication clear. The coupling he mentioned.

He wants to—Shouto wants to—with you?

"Shouto, are you sure you want this? I'm sure you really don't have to protect me, like this," you insist, trying to push yourself up off his chest. "We could try thinking of another way—"

It only has the effect of settling you more firmly over his hips, however, and Shouto hisses, his grip on you tightening.

"You have been mine since I decided to stay," Shouto says. "In all but name. Humans require time, and courting, mother says. So I have given you time, and I have been courting."

It suddenly dawns on you what he's been doing with all those horribly cooked meals, the weird trinkets that occasionally pop up around your apartment.

Courting.

Shouto's been courting.

"But you are mine. And you always have been," he says matter-of-factly. Like it's any other fact about the world. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and you have always been mine.

Another wave of something hot flashes through you, and you're immediately embarrassed by the way your thighs reflexively clench together around his hips. But Shouto's eyelashes flutter, and his normally sweet two-toned gaze grows even heavier with intent.

"I will wait until you say you are ready," he tells you, his voice thick. "Humans always require time. But the bonding fever is settling in, you will not want to wait too long."

Bonding fever—is that what has you feeling like a drippy, melting puddle of foggy confusion against him?

Dear god you have gotten yourself in way above your head, you don't know how to make sense of things.

But Shouto is so strong and sure against you, so sweetly, angelically beautiful, so luxuriously and sinfully warm. Another wave of heat sweeps through you, and you grip onto him for dear life, suddenly sure of only a few things.

You'll have time to figure this all out when your head is back on straight. But for now, you know Shouto would never hurt you, and you know Shouto wants you. And you, even in the thick of the weirdest situation a human being has ever found themselves in—you want him too.

You let youself grow slack in Shouto's hold, blinking up at him.

"Okay, let's do it," you say, embarrassed when your voice comes out so eager and high. "I don't know what's going on but I know I trust you. So Shouto, let's complete the bond. And we can figure everything out after."

Shouto smiles then, not just the amused, fond little quirk of his mouth he usually does.

It's a blindingly beautiful thing, clever and sweet and so devastatingly handsome. There's just a flash of his sharp canines, longer than any human's, the very teeth he's given you the bonding bite with. He is otherworldly, and for just a moment you can do nothing but gaze up at him, lost in the fever, lost in the look of him, lost in the power of the situation you've found yourself in.

And then he's gathering you up into his arms, stalking towards your bedroom.

The door closes behind you with a final, resounding click.

[restwellsoon]

A Circle of Salt | Fic Cover

Minors and ageless blogs, DO NOT interact.

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x F!Reader

Summary: With the end of the Great War and his father’s death, Prince Shouto must find his and his kingdom’s place in a rapidly changing world. As a result, the Todoroki Kingdom has finally opened its doors to its neighbors after centuries of isolation. You see this as an opportunity to not only advance in your career as a lowly government aid but to also take advantage of the tropical island as your new office space.

However, with the nobility working to maintain their status quo, there’s another reason why it may be difficult for you and Shouto to achieve your goals – the prince seems to have misunderstood what sort of partnership you seek with him.

Marriage. Proposal. Betrothal.  Marriage. Proposal. Betrothal. Marriage. Proposal. Betrothal. Heat rose to your cheeks, mimicking the tropical sun. Worse than mishearing, you realized that there was a terrible, terrible misunderstanding between you and Shouto. You weren’t sure how to tell your superior that the fate between the two nations was unknown, but at least you knew that relations between the prince and yourself were solid.

Tags: fantasy AU, royalty AU, arranged marriage, miscommunications, romance, smut, Todoroki family drama

Status | in progress!

Read it here on AO3!

Return to

Curated Masterlists

Todoroki Masterlist

[quitesins]

Prince!Shouto x Writer/Artist!Reader

Masterlist

Sfw, Female!Reader, Fantasy Au, random thought that I just wanted out of my head, mind the typos! Dialogue under the cut!

You’re a writer/artist, gaining quick popularity across the kingdom due to the satirical works you put out, particularly the ones where you satirise The King.

Your pieces are doing numbers. Sung in pubs, tacked to every board in town, even shoved into the arms of royal guards who can’t do anything but stand at their post and take it.

And you’re beaming, practically swimming in money and praise. You let a bit of it get to your head, suddenly dismissive of any consequences that come with mocking the royal family. Especially with your foreign pen name, feeling safe signing the end of each work while cozied up in your little house hidden away in the forest… that is until you get a knock on the door and… it’s The Prince.

[Or Shouto, crown prince, can barely hold in his laugh every time his father calls a meeting to discuss the crudely drawn pictures of him being pasted around the city. And god the first time he heard one of your poems? Being read aloud in the formal voice of one of the guards? It wasn’t just Shouto who had to excuse himself from the table, but his mother too, trailing behind him with a soft smile on her face.

He makes sure the guards keep any of the flyers that make their way into the castle, citing it as “evidence,” crucial to the investigations. Really he just takes them to his room, gleefully pinning them up. Even taking comfort in them on particularly cruel training nights.

He’s never been malicious, but when it comes to his father, he can be quite testy. Petulant for good reason. Your drawings of his father, the harsh scribbles accompanied by wretched songs, somehow he feels seen. Like the awful hate in his heart is warm and somewhere appreciated.

Shouto also thinks the way you draw his father as just a massive rectangle with two deeply furrowed brows is really funny.]

“You know…” Shouto speaks, unintentionally solemn. You prepare to be scolded on instinct. “You’ve drawn my hair on the wrong side.”

In his hand he raises the crumpled remains of one of your works. Even with the paper having seen better days, it’s undeniably yours— with it’s infamous juts of ink, harsh lines and messy splashes of colour thrown across the page. In your handwriting, there’s a vulgar poem captioning the drawing. Implying the prince to be a bastard, with a women killing smile and a surprisingly impish attitude.

Your signature printed in bright red ink probably doesn’t help your case either.

“The scar is accurate howe—”

“Give me that.” You snatch the flyer from him, crumpling it into your hand and tightening around it.

Shouto doesn’t protest, seemingly entertained by your sudden shyness. The words of [Pen Name] have been always been so crass, he had never expected you to hold such embarrassment. He doesn’t want you to, but he finds it amusing all the same.

“Look.” You don’t like his smile, it’s too soft, earnest. “If you’re here to execute me just do it!” There’s a wobble in your voice when you speak. Not from genuine fear of death, instead you sound like a sulking child. “I can’t imagine the king would send his son for any other reason..”

“Shouto,” He prompts. “I’d like it if you called me Shouto.” In the blink of an eye, in front of you is another flyer. “See.” He points to the picture of him, his name written in massive letters underneath.

“How many do you have,” You groan, snatching the paper from him again. His little disappointed pout feels like a win, it must have been his last. “Then why are you here?”

Shouto stares as if he doesn’t quite know himself. His eyes glaze over you, your cluttered room and to where you fists have finally softened in their grip. Then, like a spark alights behind his eyes, he smiles, responding with blunt determination.

“To be your friend.”

I wishhh I had the brain power to write full fics coz this au is so fun to think about… maybe if the fantasising gets too big to stay in my head I’ll write drabbles of random nonchronological scenarios, or not!

[perosp3ro]

When theyre scarred and traumatized >>>

[iszapizza]

if I had a penny for every time I see a fire wielding character with a dark backstory of daddy issues and facial burn scars caused by those same fathers I’d have three pennies, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it’s happened three times.

[achieve-the-sun]

Doodles

[aidlyncanon]

My favourite character type is the male who originally is harsh, cold, and blunt. The one who hates anything he deems as a distraction (including bonds & friends). This is literally always due to an event with the father (abuse or death). Yet over the course of the series he begins to open up and feel comfortable with others. Making friends, typically with those he originally saw no reason to be with.

[iamknullu]

his fantasy!au design is something..

[cheese-doorstop48]

A silly tddk AU based on " Princess Decomposia and Count Spatula"!

I love a good vampire Shouto AU! Plus prince Izuku!!! :D

[vidmochka]

Taming the barbarian

[likesdoodling]

Did some watercolour painting today :)