In Love With This Omg The Silly Banter Between Them All ❤️❤️

Some modern au for fem dabihawks weekend over on Twitter 🙏

Anomaly (Chapter 1) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Ever since he was rescued by All Might from All For One, Shimura Tenko's led a charmed life - except that he's a beta, in a society where alphas are privileged, omegas are prioritized, and betas are an afterthought. But when Tenko finds himself investigating a series of designation-swaps that have devastated the lives of the victims, he comes face to face with the terrible truths at the heart of society's placid, inflexible structure, and the enigmatic villain who's bent on exposing it all. The one they call Love's Executioner - otherwise known as, you. (cross-posted to Ao3)

dividers by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1

Divorce epidemic: Small town in Okayama Prefecture experiences 200% increase in no-fault petitions since previous reporting period Designation dysphoria? Psychologists in Hyogo Prefecture report an increasingly prevalent set of delusions Google search: can designations change The urban legend that just won’t die: No, you can’t change your designation. Google search: my designation changed Suicide rate spikes in Kagawa Prefecture; threefold increase over the course of a month Government forms task force to investigate reported declines in suppressant effectiveness From Omega to Alpha: Chart-topping idol tells all about stunning transformation!

Google search: change designation back

Tenko’s already late when he wakes up, and the fact that he Decays his alarm clock out of spite doesn’t improve things much. He has a hell of a lot to do before work. He knew that last night, but that didn’t stop him from playing League of Legends until three am with Spinner and Twice, and now he’s paying for it. Tenko changes into street clothes, stuffs a frozen waffle into his mouth, and books it out the door.

He’s back before he can even make it to the elevator, because his medication reminder starts freaking out. He forgot his suppressants, like he does about every other day, and he probably wouldn’t take them at all if he didn’t have an alarm set. Tenko thinks it’s bullshit that he has to take suppressants. He’s a beta, not some alpha or omega who’s constantly at risk of going into heat or rut and sending the office into meltdown mode. There’s no reason for him to take this stupid pill every day.

But Tenko’s a beta, and it’s not worth it. He’ll get busted if he fails a blood test, same as anybody else. He swallows the damn thing dry, grabs another frozen waffle, and races back to the elevator.

He checks his phone on the way and sees that he forgot to log off the hero network again, which means his screen is covered in expired alert notifications — most of them yellow, a few of them orange. He swipes them away rather than reading through them. Angsting about everything that happened while he was off duty is All Might behavior, and Tenko’s number one rule for maintaining work-life balance is taking note of what All Might does and doing the exact opposite.

For off-duty behavior, at least. When Tenko’s out in the street, he’s on duty, and that means that when he hears the screech of metal on metal followed by hideous crunching noises and car alarms going off, he picks up the pace and runs a block and a half to get there first. Just like All Might would do.

It’s a car accident. Two cars, one flipped, one wrapped around a streetlight, and at least one person’s been thrown clear. Tenko drops his backpack and goes to them first, assessing the basics for their injuries. They aren’t breathing well — their chest is rising and falling lopsided — and the air around them is flooded with alpha pheromones and panic. If it was some alpha bullshit that caused this accident —

“Help,” the alpha gasps, and Tenko’s about to tell her he’s still assessing when she elaborates. “My husband — in the car — he’s pregnant —”

Great. Nobody stays calm when babies are involved, and Tenko’s still the only one on the scene. He looks around for the nearest bystander, orders them to call emergency services, and addresses the crowd that’s gathering. “Anybody here with life support training?” A couple of hands go up, and Tenko assigns roles at random. “You, grab an AED. Every store on this block should have one. You two, get over here. Get ready to start CPR.”

He waits for them to move, then races over to the car that hit the streetlight. Just like the injured alpha, the omega victim is flooding the scene, bad enough to make Tenko cough — but even as his eyes stream, his mind stays clear. He Decays the broken window on the passenger side and addresses the victim. “My name’s Shimura Tenko. I’m a pro hero and I’m here to help you.”

Most heroes are alphas with a few omegas mixed in, but All Might’s adamant that betas make the best rescue heroes, and Tenko agrees. Alphas and omegas are vulnerable to pheromone releases no matter how many suppressants they’re on, but Tenko could be surrounded by enough overlapping clouds of pheromones to choke an air purifier and still keep a clear head. Alphas make a situation volatile, omegas defer if there’s an alpha anywhere in the mix, even if it’s the wrong thing to do. For high-stakes rescue heroics, where lives are on the line, betas do it better than anybody else. It’s about all betas are good for.

If that’s all Tenko’s good for, he’ll take it. He does a visual assessment of the victim’s injuries — as much as he can with the way the car’s crumpled — then remembers there’s a second car. “I have to check the other victim. I’ll be right back,” Tenko says, and the omega seizes his arm. An alpha wouldn’t be able to resist what the omega’s putting out, but Tenko’s able to free his arm without trouble. “I’m not leaving. I’ll be right back. Count back from a hundred for me, okay? By threes. I’ll be back before you’re done.”

The driver of the second car is dead. They weren’t wearing a seatbelt and they’re crumpled against the windshield, but Tenko checks the brachial and radial pulses just to be sure. Is there anyone else in the car? He hears muffled crying, Decays the back passenger window, and peers in.

Fuck. There are kids. Two of them. Both buckled in, both bleeding, neither of them with crush injuries, which means it’s safe to get them out. Tenko Decays the door, too, then wedges himself into position to catch the first kid once their seatbelt’s off. The kid flops down into Tenko’s arms, and Tenko supports their head and shoulders, trying to figure out how to maneuver them out of the car.

“We’ve got him!” There’s an EMT out there, with a stretcher and another one coming closer. “Pass him out and get the other one!”

Works for Tenko. He wedges himself further into the car. The second kid is freaking out a lot worse than the other one, and Tenko realizes that this is going to be a more complicated rescue in a hurry. This kid’s quirk is active. And given that she looks to be about six years old, the likelihood that she can retract the claws sprouting from between her knuckles when she’s this scared is pretty low.

Tenko’s been a kid with a dangerous quirk. He knows the drill. “I’m going to get you out of there,” he promises. “I need you to do something for me first. Make an X with your arms like this so your claws stay pointed out. I’m going to unbuckle you —”

“I’ll fall!”

“I’ll catch you. That’s why I’m here.” Tenko knows better than to put on an All Might-style grin. “Cross your arms — perfect — and count to three for me. We’ll go on three.”

“One,” the girl sobs. “Two —”

Tenko Decays her seat, seatbelt and all, and catches her. He kicks out the window on the other side, passes her through it to another pair of EMTs, then crawls out the way he came in. By this point there’s an incident commander, somebody Tenko recognizes vaguely, and he heads her way. “What’s next?”

“We can’t get the victim out of that car,” she says. “His legs are crushed. It’ll be a miracle if he makes it to the hospital, but he won’t if they have to spend an hour cutting him out. Can you —”

“Tell them to get ready. I’ve got this.”

The victim’s got enough people comforting him that he doesn’t get mad at Tenko for leaving and not coming back, so Tenko ignores him and searches for a starting point. He needs to do this fast. Once the EMTs are in position, Tenko plants both hands on the hood and activates Decay at full strength.

He used to think his quirk was evil, that nothing good could come out of destruction, but he knows better now. There’s no such thing as a good quirk or an evil quirk. It’s about how you use it, and as Tenko uses his to free the omega victim from the totaled car and deliver him into the hands of the EMTs, he remembers all over again that his quirk is a good thing. Or at least it can be. Tenko sticks around until the ambulances have left, confirms that the cleanup crew don’t want him to get rid of the cars, and hits the road before the press can put in an appearance. He’s even later to work than he was already going to be, but he has a feeling his boss won’t mind.

There was never really a question about where Tenko would go after he graduated from UA — All Might’s agency, because nowhere else would take a beta hero and it was where he wanted to go anyway. Tenko should probably be a little less shameless about cashing in on the benefits of being raised as All Might’s ward, but he also knows All Might is pretty sensitive to his help being rejected, and after everything he’s done for Tenko, the least Tenko can do is make him happy by accepting a few perks.

Tenko’s a hero because of All Might. Tenko’s alive because of All Might. If All Might hadn’t killed All For One almost fourteen years ago, Tenko would still be under his thumb. Still thinking he was built to destroy, still carrying around Tomura as his name. Tomura. The one who brings mourning. Tenko remembers explaining his new name to All Might in the hospital after he was rescued, and he remembers how All Might’s famous smile shifted into a teeth-clenched grimace. You can pick any name you want, he said to Tenko. Except that one.

In the end, Tenko fell back on his old name, the one his parents gave him before they realized he was a beta and therefore a disappointment. What he did to his family is hard to live with, still. On his bad days, Tenko believes every word Sensei ever told him, and some part of him always will. The rest of the time, the rest of him knows better.

He’s barely set foot on the training floor in Might Tower before Twice tackles him. “Hey! Shimura! Saw you on the news —”

Tenko grimaces and breaks Twice’s grip. “I got out of there way before the cameras got there.”

“People were filming,” Spinner announces, putting Tenko in an instant headlock. All Might must have ordered them to jump him. “The HPSC reposted the video —”

“And it’s already been played ten thousand times!” Midoriya reports from somewhere far away from Tenko. His natural quirk is good for fuck all against Tenko, and All Might doesn’t want him using One For All against anybody but villains. “It’s excellent press!”

“Somebody died,” Tenko says. He winds Spinner with an elbow to the gut and twists free. “They shouldn’t put that on the news.”

“You should have become an underground hero if you wanted your exploits to stay off the news,” Tobita says. He’s keeping his distance, or else Tenko would bite the Twice clone that’s holding him and go kick his ass. “And if you’re going to do hero work in street clothes, you might want to put a little more thought into your look.”

Tenko finally shakes free of his friends and looks down at himself. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s tragic that you have to ask,” Tobita says, and sighs dramatically. “Then again, you are a beta. Maximizing attractiveness isn’t at the top of your priorities list.”

Tenko grits his teeth. “Are you sure you aren’t gay?”

“I’m waiting until I’ve found my mate. Then we’ll see.”

If Tenko talks to an alpha or an omega long enough, mating inevitably come up. It’s why he hangs out with betas when he can. Betas don’t talk about ruts, because they don’t have them, and they don’t talk about heats because they don’t have those either, and they don’t care about finding mates in general. Whatever the difference is between betas and everybody else, it strips away the desire to couple up and reproduce along with the fertility. Or at least it’s supposed to.

Tenko thought everybody felt the way he does and was just embarrassed to talk about it. It took him until a few months ago to realize that his fellow betas aren’t secretly yearning for a mate. It’s not an unspoken beta-designation thing. There’s legitimately something wrong with Tenko’s brain, something he’s never going to mention to anyone ever again. He doesn’t give a shit about having kids. It’s probably best for everybody if his quirk dies with him. But his stupid ass is out here yearning anyway, and yearning in the worst possible way. There aren’t even any female betas – betas are all male, and Tenko’s straight. Female alphas want omegas, and female omegas want alphas. Tenko and his fucking yearning are stuck together for the rest of his life.

Tenko doesn’t think about it very much. His life is good. He’s gotten really lucky, multiple times, so much that he could almost call his life charmed if he hadn’t stumbled into it after accidentally killing his family and being kidnapped and brainwashed by a monster. If yearning for a mate is the only thing that’s wrong with Tenko, Tenko has it pretty fucking easy.

All Might arrives, finally, and rescues Tenko from the middle of a pile of Twice clones, giving him a bone-cracking hug. “Well done,” he says, and lets Tenko go. “Gather ‘round, everyone. Today’s assignments are in. As you know, our agency is unique, and there are places for each and every one of your unique talents to protect and serve others!”

All Might’s agency used to just be him and his sidekick, Sir Nighteye. Sir Nighteye didn’t approve of All Might taking Tenko in — he called it letting in a stray — and All Might took it so personally that he turned letting in the strays into his agency’s entire policy. Almost everybody, from the heroes to the support staff to the PR department to the maintenance guys, is somebody who somebody else threw away. People like Twice, who went from the foster system straight to jail. People like Spinner, who grew up in a shit town that treats mutant-type quirks like trash. People like Magne, who’s trans, and Toga, whose quirk scares people, and even Tobita, whose failure to launch fast enough out of high school would have kept him from being a hero. Betas and omegas, people whose designations get them almost uniformly rejected from hero academies across the country, are the majority. The news calls All Might’s agency ‘eclectic’. The tabloids call it a freak show.

The hero community’s gotten used to it. All Might’s always fielding requests for team-ups or visits, so much so that he has to sort through them and pick just a few. Twice and Tobita get a PR visit — going to a foster home to meet the kids and talk about heroes and quirks. Spinner has a surveillance job, like usual, and Toga’s headed down to the hospital like she almost always is. Everybody else gets farmed out to other agencies, until it’s just Tenko and Midoriya and two pieces of paper in All Might’s hand.

He glances at one of them and sighs. “This was for young Todoroki, from Hawks, but unfortunately he’s, uh, indisposed.”

“Again? He was in heat two weeks ago,” Tenko says. He remembers — he got a bunch of horny texts from Touya, because Touya apparently forgets how to read when he’s in heat and thought he was sending them to Hawks or his other alpha fuckbuddy. “He’s making it up for more vacation time.”

“He’s not! Some people experience rapid cycling,” Midoriya, also an omega, pipes up. “It’s very difficult to control. He’s probably not having fun.”

“And everyone at my agency gets the same amount of vacation time,” All Might reminds Tenko. Tenko rolls his eyes. “No designation is privileged over the others here.”

No, but if Tenko took a week off of work just to fuck, everybody would have questions about that. “Which of us is getting sent to Hawks instead?”

“We aren’t able to meet that request,” All Might says. He looks at the last piece of paper. “Young Midoriya, you’ll stay here at dispatch. Tenko, you and I have been summoned to Shiroiwa, in Kagawa prefecture.”

That name sounds familiar. Tenko can’t remember why, but he’s never against an away mission. The fact that All Might hasn’t said what it is means it’s confidential, which means Tenko can lord it over Midoriya later that he got to do something cool while Midoriya minds the desk. “Sounds good.”

It’s eight hours to Kagawa by car, four and a half by Shinkansen, but in All Might’s jet, which All Might takes on long trips so he won’t bring traffic to a standstill, it’s a cool hour and a half. Tenko’s not at all interested in climbing the charts, but he has to admit that there are perks to being in the top 10. Like no crying babies on the plane, and snacks. Tenko’s frozen waffles this morning feel like a distant memory. He starts raiding the pantry.

“Tenko,” All Might says, and Tenko looks up. “I meant what I said. Your work this morning was exemplary. You should be proud.”

“I was just who was there.”

“I’m proud of you,” All Might says. “Even if you aren’t proud of yourself.”

He studies Tenko for a moment. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Let me try again. Something’s wrong. What is it?” All Might asks. Tenko shakes his head. “I’ve known you since you were eight years old, and lying’s not your strong point. What’s going on?”

There’s no way Tenko’s bringing this up to All Might. But he needs to tell All Might something, or All Might won’t let it go. Tenko picks a topic at random. “My phone yelled at me because I forgot to take my suppressants this morning. I’m sick of taking them.”

All Might’s expression shifts in sympathy. “Are you experiencing side effects? There are multiple brands —”

“No, they’re fine. I just don’t want them,” Tenko says. All Might raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a hypocrite. Alphas and omegas not taking theirs fucks them and everybody else over, but nobody suffers if I stop taking mine except some big pharma exec who won’t make money off my prescription. I shouldn’t have to blood test once a month at random like the alphas and omegas do if I’m not the problem. It’s bullshit and you know it.”

All Might sits down in the seat across from Tenko’s. “It’s true,” he says. “Alphas and omegas off their suppressants are a disaster. You’ve read your history. Society’s most significant advancements didn’t occur until after primitive suppressants were developed and distributed. Suppressants provide for a stable society.”

“Yeah, but —”

“And even knowing that,” All Might continues, “alphas and omegas don’t want to take them. Someone needs to set an example.”

“An example,” Tenko repeats. “I have to pop pills my whole life to set a good example?”

“If a rule applies to everyone, no one can claim they’re being unfairly singled out,” All Might points out. He steals a cookie out of the package Tenko just opened. “Betas frequently set a good example. You set one during your rescue today.”

“By doing something.”

“By proving it could be done,” All Might says. “Think about how an alpha or omega hero would have handled those victims and that scene.”

Tenko doesn’t need to think about it. He’s seen it. “Alpha commands,” he says. “And omegas do that weird thing where they’re, like — hitting on you —”

“Platonic seduction,” All Might says, which is one hell of a contradiction in terms. “These approaches both have something in common. What is it?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“No.” All Might eats another one of Tenko’s cookies. “Think about it. They have the same end goal as you did — a controlled scene, calm victims —”

“Except they’re doing it by force,” Tenko says. All Might nods. “You’re saying my way is better.”

“Yes,” All Might says. “Adding extra force to an already stressful scene increases the potential for chaos, particularly given the diverging reactions of each designation to those uses of force — and yet, the prevailing wisdom is still that heroes should use force in controlling a scene.”

“That’s not what you do,” Tenko mutters.

All Might smiles halfway. “I’m not an alpha.”

Everybody thinks All Might’s insistence on training beta and omega heroes is some weird fixation, because they can’t imagine All Might being anything but an alpha. But All Might isn’t an alpha. He’s a beta, just like Tenko is, so he knows it’s possible for a beta to be a hero. “Everyone assumes my ability to control scenes without force is unique to me. You proved that others can do it, too. That makes it much harder to ignore as the preferred strategy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Betas make the world go round, as usual,” Tenko says. He manages to grab one cookie before All Might eats the last one. “I still don’t want the pills.”

All Might sighs. “Are you unhappy with your designation, Tenko?”

“No,” Tenko says. He never envies alphas or omegas, except when he thinks about being alone for the rest of his life. “It’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Indeed,” All Might agrees. “But the fact that you’re a beta is why you’re on this mission and my successor is minding a desk.”

“Huh?”

“Here.” All Might picks up a folder and slides it across the table to Tenko. “I saw your expression. When I mentioned Shiroiwa, it meant something to you.”

“That’s the town where the suicide rate blew up,” Tenko says. “They think heroes should be investigating this?”

“At the moment, it’s not clear what this is,” All Might says. “No one will talk about what happened. It’s the opinion of earlier investigators that shame and distrust are keeping them quiet. They need to see people they can trust, who don’t provoke the sort of intense emotions that alphas and omegas do.”

Betas. “So we’re supposed to interview people about their dead relatives?”

“We’re supposed to interview anyone,” All Might says. “My presence will draw them out. Officially, I’m here to provide support and comfort in this trying time. It’s your job to talk to anyone who will speak and try to discern exactly what happened here. Prior to the first four suicides, which all occurred on the same day, Shiroiwa hadn’t seen a death by suicide in seven years. It’s hard to imagine there wasn’t a precipitating event.”

“Talk to people, figure out what happened,” Tenko says. “You sure you don’t want Midoriya?”

“People who are suffering need to feel listened to and understood,” All Might says. “As evidenced by how you brought so many people who’d previously felt invisible to the agency, the person in my agency best equipped to do that is you.”

Shiroiwa feels haunted. Tenko’s not superstitious, but there’s no other word for it. Something bad happened here, and he needs to figure out what it is so it can’t happen anywhere else. People are slow to talk. Tenko asks them how they’re doing, and it’s fifteen minutes of small talk before anything starts to come out. But once it does, Tenko starts to get a picture of things. Or at least where things started. Everybody who’s killed themselves attended a school festival the week before the first death.

“Did anything weird happen at the festival?” he asks, over and over again. “Or not weird. Even just something that stood out?”

Nobody has a good answer. It’s two hours into the event before someone tells Tenko what happened to some of the people who killed themselves. She’s weird about it, too. Embarrassed, even though she has her face covered. She beckons Tenko away from the others and keeps her voice low, so he has to lean in. “Their designations changed,” she says. “Alphas to betas, omegas to alphas, betas to — anything. Anybody to anything. You knew who it happened to. The scents switched on a dime.”

Designation switching is an urban legend. Or something that happens in porn. Tenko keeps nodding, anyway, and the woman keeps talking. “People who it happened to, they got shunned. Like it was contagious. Maybe it is. I don’t know.”

“Did everybody who got switched kill themselves?” Tenko asks, and she shakes her head. “Was there any pattern to who did or didn’t — or who was affected —”

“No kids,” the woman says. “It was a school festival. The place was covered with kids, but none of them got swapped. Only adults. And as far as who killed themselves and who didn’t — I don’t know. I don’t know why some of them survived it.”

“Can you point to anybody who did?” Tenko asks, and she points to herself.

Now he gets why she’s hiding. If they’re treating people with the switch like they’re contagious, then no wonder. “Come with me,” Tenko says, and she shakes her head. Her original designation and swapped designation don’t matter, but Tenko can’t tell what she is now. “If you talk to All Might, you can explain what you just told me, and we can stop this from happening again.

“Stop it? You don’t even know what started it.” The masked woman shakes her head. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” Tenko catches her arm. It doesn’t matter if she’s crazy — she’s the only lead, and if she got her designation switched, they can confirm it. Her hand closes over his and forces him to let go. “Look, if you won’t come explain, point to somebody else who got switched. Nobody’s going to believe this designation-switching thing without proof. You know that.”

She nods. Beckons Tenko closer again. “Look for Minami Mizuho, Motobuchi Tadakatsu, Shimizu Takako, and Hatagami Arisa. They were too embarrassed to talk. They sent me.”

“Thank you,” Tenko says. “If you’re right about this — what you just told me is going to help a lot of people. Even if it was hard to talk about.”

“It’s weird that it’s so hard to talk about,” the woman says. She’s about Tenko’s age, huddled inside a coat that’s too big for her. “Nobody can be quiet about designations most of the time. Except when they change.”

“Yeah,” Tenko agrees. “It’s probably scary.”

“Scary?”

“Yeah. Saying it makes it real.”

The woman thinks about it for a moment, then shakes her head. “It’s real enough for them,” she says. “Ask them.”

Tenko gets to it. Finds the people she named in the crowd, talks to all of them, and doesn’t remember until he and All Might are back on the plane that he never asked for his source’s name.

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @deadhands69 @minniessskii @lvtuss @xeveryxstarfallx @lacrimae-lotos @issaortiz @dance-with-me-in-hell @aslutforfictionalmen @evilcookie5 @stardustdreamersisi @warxhammer @handumb @f3r4lfr0gg3r @shikiblessed @baking-ghoul @cheeseonatower @agente707 @koohiii @atspiss

A Cursed Forest

Synopsis: in which you journey on with dragon!sukuna who runs into someone he knows Word Count: 2k Warnings: cursing, not proofread Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

You have been walking for hours and hours since dawn break when the first light lit up the entrance of the cave. On that morn, the Cursed King had shifted into the form of a man — hulking and terrifying, a true beast — and strode forth from the cave with no instruction to guide you. Yet, you knew better than to utter a query or seek command, for his will was plainly wrought: follow him wherever he pleases. 

So you did. 

The ground was dry, cracked, and parched as if no rain had ever lay even but a kiss upon it. The sky darkened with the threat of tempest, though no breeze stirs the air, nor no sound, and no sign of life in the forest. It frightened you impossibly further, for you were so certain the trees were alive all through the night, but then, as your captor, or your saviour, you’ve yet to know, marched along, with you in tow, you knew then that it was his very presence that commanded an eerie stillness upon every branch, every leaf, and every critter that had made this place its home. 

Sore and bruised, your feet ache with every step; you dare not complain. Instead, you pray to the Heavens that your stomach will not grumble so loudly and that this destination the King has in mind arrives soon, for there is not much more you can give. 

Power coursing through his veins, he does not seem affected by this long journey through the forest. He is not lost, he does not thirst or hunger, he does not stumble or slow his pace. He is as steady as time and just as silent and merciless. 

A step for him is a leap for you, and you are struggling to keep up. When you stop by a tree, leaning against the rough bark to catch your breath, he stops, too, but he does not meet your eye. He simply stands tall, his unclothed back rippling with tension, and you rush to your feet, not wanting to irritate him with your weakness. 

He journeys on wordlessly. 

Midday passes, and you have not eaten, drank, or rested. Your mortal limitations are dragging your limbs down, forcing your mouth to dry and your vision to spin. 

“M-my Lord,” you stutter, nails pricking your palm, “if I m-may, I do not think I can go on much longer.”

Halting ahead, he turns and regards you with his full attention. He’s looking, really looking, and what he sees displeases him greatly. With a sneer, he makes a sharp turn and mists away. 

You slump to the ground, ashamed of the way your knees quiver and how blood so easily leaks from shallow cuts on your bare feet. You are just as your family says: weak, pathetic, and useless. Nothing had ever prepared you for this twist of fate, from being cast out to being offered as sacrifice for the drought and then to taking on the role of companion to the most monstrous beast that plagues the Kingdom of Eden. 

It is a mockery. 

The salt in a wound that runs deep and defines you. 

“Drink.”

Your eyes had shut without your realisation and when they open, you think perhaps you are delirious, because you are somewhere different. Still imprisoned in the Dark Forest, you are now at the river that pierces straight through. Rushing forward, you slurp down the fresh water. Life pulses in your very heart. It is cool and refreshing and everything you needed.

Dripping down your chin, the water you cup in your hands is soaked up by your dress more so than your own lips, but you cannot find the decency to feel shame in front of the King. 

Heat blasts your back, sudden and light, and you feel it tickle your skin. Behind you, your captor holds a charred bird, smoke curling out of his mouth. He throws it in your lap when you turn, staining your dress and threatening to burn your thighs. 

“Eat.”

It is as delicious as the meat he had allowed you to feast on the previous night. Strength floods your stomach, rich and filling. This is the most fortunate you’ve ever been when it comes to food; your family would throw scraps at you, watery oats and bones to gnaw on.

Warmth dancing inside, you’re much more comfortable now and ready to journey further, but you do not want to let him know just yet, lest he drags you onwards for another half-day. Slowly, you pick at the meat, pretending to savour it.

“Thank you, my Lord,” you mutter, barely above a whisper.

He grunts. Leaning against a tree himself, he watches you, lip curling slightly in something that might have been amusement or disdain. Your eyes dart downward, and you know what he sees—the dark mark upon your chest, a twisted design resembling his dragon shape, now burned into your skin. The heat beneath it intensifies under his stare, but neither of you speak of it.

Swallowing and carefully, you find the courage to ask, “To where do we venture, my Lord?”

“The nearest town to the north.”

That would be Agartha — a bustling place nestled within the heart of the northern mountains, a haven for traders and merchants. It is a place you have only heard whispers of in stories uttered of by those in your home who dared not venture beyond the village borders. It is said to welcome all manner of folk and creatures, so long as they have something of value to trade, but few have dared to travel its roads. 

It’s over a day’s travel, and the closer one gets to that part of the land, the more likely they are to encounter a cursed being, even if one avoids passage through the Dark Forest, skirting along the edge instead. 

“Why?”

His amber eyes cut through yours, and with disdain, he orders, “Finish your food, and do not question me anymore.”

“But why walk when you can fly?”

The question leaves your mouth before you could mull the thought further and the flex of his hand makes you gulp. You know not where the stupidity came from and you resent yourself for it. A moment passes, the leisurely flow of the river the only sound filling this gap between you. 

Assessing you with a cock of his head, you wonder what he’s thinking. Perhaps he’s regretting his choice of companion, or perhaps he’s considering whether you are better off as a meal. You hope it’s not the latter. Or either. You hope he likes you. 

Why, you cannot bear to ponder. 

“Because you cannot.”

His voice…

It’s softer than before. Not quite gentle — it is still very much rough, raspy, and deep in a way that rattles your bones — but there’s a vulnerability, a sincerity that leaves you reeling. The mark on your chest burns, and you grow breathless, shivers running up your spine and tingling in places you cannot linger on for too long. 

He grunts, his large hand clutching a pec. His eyes meet yours with disbelief. Something clicks inside again, that turn of a key, that slotting of a puzzle piece, which he seems to feel, too. But that can’t be. 

“You,” he hisses, and then he shakes his head. Inhaling deeply, you feel the forest rumble beneath you, shaking with the force with which he’s gripping the tree bark behind him. “If you are finished, get to your feet and walk before I drag you by your hair.”

He is already turning away, walking ahead with more force than before. You quickly wash your hands and mouth before you rush after him, afraid to be left alone as the afternoon falls. 

Hiking closer to him than before, you cannot help but eye his marked back. The black lines are pigmented and clean. They do not appear like the marks you’ve seen on other men in your village. No, they look to be a part of his body, just as any of his limbs are. 

You wonder how they feel under your fingers. 

Another hour or two passes in silence. You do not ask questions and he does not offer answers. This is a mere glimpse of how the rest of your time with him will pass, you gander. Though, it is unclear for long he will tolerate your existence. A man like him, or rather a creature like him, does not seem like the type to desire company, and yet here you are.

The temperature drops considerably. Goosebumps rise along your arms. A sharp crackle sparks in your chest.

You have unknowingly ventured somewhere odd. The branches are sparser, the grass is balding and dull, and fog is blanketing your feet. Somehow, the sky has darkened quickly, as if the clouds had thickened within seconds. You feel a chill prick your spine. 

“Stay close, rat,” the King of Curses snarls. 

When you approach him, he gives you a firm look and then jerks his chin. You press closer. In the distance, you can hear whistling —mocking and taunting. Your breaths get more and more shallow. You are being watched. 

Hesitantly, fearful you might set something off, you whisper, “Where are we?”

“We are on the brink between the edge of this forsaken forest and the land surrounding Agartha. There will be dangers around these parts. Do take care to not allow yourself to be ripped apart; you will stain my skin with your filthy blood,” he growls. 

You have only heard of tales from drunken men in taverns you’d pass by. Tales of hunched beasts ranging in height, some with the ability to tear into your flesh and kill you instantly and others with magic that lure you to your death. And though you’d like to know more about what exactly the King is sending along these parts, you are far from keen to learn first-hand. So, you follow the angry man’s lead. 

The recent turn of events has you reeling, but you are given little to no time to ponder anything. Indeed, you have no choice, just as you have never had a choice in life. 

More whistling. 

It has grown nearer. 

“Fuck,” the King growls. He flexes his arms, hands closing to fists as he marches ahead. You cannot tell how he feels, whether he is afraid, anxious, or enraged. Best not to find out. 

“If it isn’t the great King, out of his domain,” a woman’s voice sounds out.

It is melodic and enchanting. Bumps on your skin rise. There is something frightening in her tone. Too sure, too confident, too in control, you cannot breathe with the weight of her presence, though you see her not.

“And with a mortal girl, no less.”

The voice, bodiless, float around your head, lifting locks of your hair as if marveling at the tangible feel of your body. 

Squealing, you run to your companion’s side, holding his arm in spite of yourself. He glances down at your quivering form and rolls his eyes. “Spare me the theatrics, Kuchisake. We are merely passing. Answer me: Is Agartha still as it once was when I was awake?”

The voice chuckles and replies, “It has not changed. Time does not pass by in that corner of the kingdom.” 

He nods and moves to continue on his way before she speaks again, and the underlying threat in her voice stops him in his tracks. 

“I know what you seek. But Mother has made her intentions clear; you must see through the bonds that tie you down.”

A force knocks you back into a tree and away from him. The impact knocks the breath out of you but it does not hurt.

It is impossible to tell who pushed you, and you dare not dwell on it. They are having a stand-off, asserting power over each other, whilst you remain as mere collateral. That is how it has always been with these cursed beings, indeed with any who held power over you. 

“Mother has chosen to play a cruel joke, one in which I want no part. Not even she can stop me. So keep your advice to yourself, Nymph.”

She hums a melancholy tune, it is low and slow, a bastardisation of a sacred melody. She sings the wedding march.

Sukuna flicks his wrist and you’re lifted up, floating in the air until you land on your own feet next to him. Then he walks on, with you in tow, feeling red tendrils of smoke tied around your wrist, keeping you from running or being snatched away. It is as if he has collared you, his very own pet.

Still invisible to the human eye, she hums that tune all the way through the forest, even once you’ve left the border of those crooked trees, and only stops when a mountain in the distance comes into view. 

That is where you are headed. And deep inside, there is something the King of Curses wants desperately enough to stomach mockery from, who you can only guess to be, his sister. 

What lies ahead, you do not know. 

You have no choice but to trust him, and you hope that at the end of this cursed journey, you will make it out in one piece.

જ⁀➴°⋆ p✮rn links

cw: porn. nsfw minors dni. [Blue lock, jujutsu kaisen, tokyo revengers}

⸝⸝ Playing with his pretty dick after he comes.

⸝⸝ his sweet virgin girlfriend tells him he can't take her V card so he decides to do this instead

⸝⸝ Filling you up because you look so hot with his cum dripping out

➷Michael kaiser, gojo satoru, shinichiro sano, wakasa imaushi, ran haitani, rin itoshi, sae itoshi, choso kamo, toji fushiguro, rindou haitani, sanzu haruchiyo, izana kurokawa (+your faves)

⸝⸝ He's your own little seat

⸝⸝ He loves fucking you in missionary cause of the pretty view

⸝⸝ He fingers you while eating you out

➷megumi fushiguro, ino takuma, inumaki toge, otoya eita, nagi seishiro, wakasa imaushi, rin itoshi, reo mikage, barou shoei, inui seishu, chifuyu matsuno, kakucho hitto, (+your faves)

⸝⸝ letting him rearrange your inside in the backseat where everyone can see who you belong to

⸝⸝ Ruining your cute little panties

⸝⸝ spanking you

➷geto suguru, yuta okkotsu, isagi yoichi, chigiri hyoma, michael kaiser, hiori yo, mikey sano, ran haitani, bachira meguru, kokonoi hajime, sanzu haruchiyo, (+your faves)

⸝⸝ He finally gives you what you want after being needy all day

⸝⸝ He doesn't realize how thick is cock is

⸝⸝ Playing with your pussy because he found out you have a hand fetish

➷toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, kunigami rensuke, shidou ryusei, oliver aiku, draken ryuguji, taiju shiba, rindou haitani, hanma shuji, gojo satoru, rin itoshi (+your faves)

Taglist: @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @syleepy @samthesimp1 @werfiedeii @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @mikemsmm @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @demiitria

A/n: something new

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Navigation]

who's gonna tell him..

hitoshi shinsou x gn!reader (aizawa!reader) texts

your boyfriend is a little too in his head about telling your father about your relationship

notes: post graduation, reader still lives at home ANON thank you dearly for this request,,, sorry i butchered it a little by derailing the original ask and making it a shinsou x reader. i feel like i'm a little disconnected from father aus to do you proper justice. also sorry for keeping this in the draft dungeons for a month

I love seeing my mutuals in my notes because it confirms they’re not mad at me. yet

L.O.V.E

🎮 tomura shigaraki x fem!reader smau

a strangers/online friends to lovers university au

masterlist / touya’s staring problem / your voice is my safe space

checkpoint;

touya’s staring problem

cw; none, just another side quest game play, the backstory to kenzie/touya and how they got together

touya’s never had a problem with toga’s friends. the first time toga brought a friend over to one of the group's hang outs, was when she introduced them to ocahko. he was fine with it then and was happy that toga found somebody to make her happy.

touya doesn’t have a problem with toga’s friends, his first time meeting kenzie was when toga invited her to one of the music stream sessions, she had a good voice on her and the way she harmonized with his bass really impressed him.

he didn’t mind her then and he doesn’t mind her now, so why on this godforsaken planet, could he not stop staring at her? his mind flashes back to the groupchat’s earlier messages and dabi finally admits to himself that he likes kenzie.

he’s never been good at feelings or relationships, but as he stares at where she stands next to toga while harmonizing with the chords he strums on his bass, he realizes he could get used to having her around.

and with that thought in mind, he focuses back on the music session and begins playing the chords to Take Me Back To Eden by Sleep Token.

“hey.” dabi internally cringes at the way he sounds as he approaches kenzie after the stream session.

“oh, hey.” she smiles and touya blinks, what was he going to say again?

he can feel toga’s glare on his back as he stares at kenzie who merely continues to smile at him, waiting patiently for him to speak. one glance to the side gives him a view of shigs' shiteating grin and confirms toga’s glare, though she’s failing to hide her grin as well.

“oh, by the way, i think it’s really cool that you know Sleep Token.” her voice catches touya’s attention and his gaze shifts back to her.

“oh yeah, i think they’re a good band and wanted to play a couple of their songs during the stream today.” he shrugs and she nods, glancing at the place his guitar rested.

“so where’d you learn to play?” her head tilts to his bass and he leans against the counter before answering.

“I’m mostly self taught. i took a few lessons when i was younger, but it felt more natural to learn on my own. i started playing as an escape and it just stuck i guess.” a light chuckle rumbles his throat and she hums.

“well you’re really good for somebody who’s self taught.” she compliments and he thanks her with a slight smirk.

“you wanna go out sometime?” dabi winces as she begins laughing, shit, he’s just made a complete fool of himself. there’s a heat that’s climbing its way up his neck to his ears and face.

“took you long enough, you know?” her laughter comes to an end as she nudges him with her shoulder causing him to look up from where his eyes shifted to the ground.

“what?” he knows he sounds idiotic but he’s a bit confused.

“you’ve got a staring problem.” she says simply and he thinks back to every time she’s come over with toga.

“huh? guess i do.” he shrugs again, “so is that a yes?” he smirks and glances at toga and shigs who are both shaking their heads and laughing.

“yes.”

thank god for his staring problem.

checkpoint; touya’s staring problem, data saved!

continue to next level?

tag list; [open]

@nkox, @dumbassbrigade, @va-3, @kodditty, @personally4runa

mutual tags; @shigarakislaughter, @chaoslibra, @sexylexy12

samm1e13 tumblr 2025 ©️ don’t use, copy, steal or translate my works for any reason.

treating this like twitter for a second

@chaoslibra and @shigarakislaughter

u guys not telling me blue lock was abt soccer is criminal😤😤 (at least i don’t think kenzie told me it was abt soccer was she was recommending it to me)

i would’ve watched it way sooner (i grew up playing soccer)

Chapter 03.

♡ twenty three

♡ rivals to lovers / fake dating

♡ cw / tw : sort of angst at the end? moment of panic attack though it's minor

You pressed the doorbell and stepped back with a pleasant hum. “I don’t know why you bother ringing that shit. I always barge in whenever I have to fucking come here.” Bakugo grumbled as you both stood in front of the door to his mother’s studio. 

You looked back at him and scoffed. “That would be the nice thing to do Bakugo. You wouldn’t know.”

“Being nice is for pussies.”

“And here comes the attitude.” You mumbled under your breath.

Bakugo whipped his head around and glared at you, “Do you really wanna go? We can go right here right fucking now don’t test me-”

The front door swung open and a middle aged blond woman stepped out, offering you a soft smile, “Oh so you must be my son’s partner please please! Do come in! He never stops talking about you my dear- oh and shoes at the doorstep darling, are you hungry? Thirsty? Anything my son can get for you? Katsuki! Be a good boyfriend and help your partner out!” Mitsuki Bakugo shouted as she pushed the door open wider, ushering both of you inside her studio.

“God fucking damnit you hag! Shut the actual fuck up! You know we’re not actually dating! And they can handle themselves! I don’t gotta do shit for them!” Bakugo shouted at his mother as he tugged off his shoes.

“Bakugo!” You whipped your head around and glared at him, eyes narrowed into slits. “Watch your fucking language when you speak to your fucking mother goddamn it! I’m not risking losing an opportunity like this all because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut you dumb piece of shit!” You hissed back at him.

Bakugo stared at you.

Mitsuki smiled.

Bakugo grumbled as you stepped into the studio, the tips of his ears flushing a soft red as his mother nudged him and grinned. He rolled his eyes and followed behind you, crossing his arms across his chest and looking around.

The studio was unfortunately - or maybe it was fortunately - the same as he remembered it when he was younger; and throughout all the different parts of his life. 

His mother’s desk was placed in the same shitty corner, and those creepy looking mannequins were still standing in every corner that they could possibly be placed without being knocked over - each one was covered in some sort of fabric, some of the outfits were finished, some were still a mess of stitching and needle work. 

There were things on the floor, scraps of fabric and tape measures and the whole place smelted of baked goods, like the oven had just been turned off and if he squinted - he could see a small Katsuki and Izuku, reaching for the caramel and chocolate chip cookies behind Mitsuki’s back - before two simultaneous wails would break her out of her thought. She would have to end up putting her needle down and pulling her glasses off her face before tending to the two boys, one whom she scolded and the other whom she carefully doted over.

That particular memory brought a small smile to Bakugo’s face.

He looked around more before his eyes met a small area in the back of the studio which he had dubbed “The hero’s corner” as a child. 

When he was younger he would sit on the floor and play with his action figures. When he started school the toys were replaced with notebooks and pens. He remembered one instance, during first year of highschool, where he was perched in his chair, furiously scribbling in his journal, (He was much too prideful to call it a diary) about you. Pages upon pages wasted as he ranted about how much he hated you. 

The strangest part? 

He had a nagging feeling that he really didn’t hate you-

Nope. Not going down that train of thought today. Thanks a lot Eijirou for putting that idea in my head in the first place. I hope you’re hit by a fucking train shitty hair.

“Katsuki are you even listening!” Mitsuki shouted at Bakugo who snapped back to reality, whipping his head back around and glaring at his mother.

“Shut up you hag! I don’t even know why the fuck I’m here! You already have all of my fucking measurements from when I was fucking born why do I gotta be here for?” He snapped back, fists clenched. Every moment he spent with you in his general vicinity was fucking torture and he felt like he was drowning. The smell of your perfume or shampoo or whatever the fuck you were wearing that he was smelling was slowly killing him here. 

"Y'know what fuck it I'm stepping outside for some air. It smells like shit in here. Open a window or something." Bakugo sighed, shaking his head as he stepped outside, sitting on the stairs.

He ran a hand through his ashy blond hair.

“Fucking shit Shitty Hair.” He hissed under his breath.

-

"This is going to suck so much ass." You sighed.

"Yep."

"Why do I gotta do this shit with you?"

"I'd be damned if I knew." Bakugo mumbled.

Your outfit was stunning and damn, did you feel stunning. Mitsuki really outdid herself when it came to the outfit. It was such a shame that it had to be used on Bakugo of all people. You nervously wiped your hands down your outfit, you had been to a few of these gala’s in the past - hero work tended to come with a lot more rubbing shoulders then you had been led to expect. “How long do we have to be doing this?” You whispered, turning to meet Bakugo’s stern gaze as he stared straight ahead. He clenched his jaw and shrugged. 

“Until the press gets what they want I guess.” He mumbled. He didn’t know how long it would take for them to get here - or when they would leave. When they drain us of our blood. For fuck’s sake. I don’t want to be here. I’d rather be at home right now. Or at the gym. Or god knows where.

Bakugo clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he forced himself to stare straight ahead. It was suffocating being in here. He thought the studio was bad? His sports car was a million times worse.

You were so fucking close. If he turned his head just a little bit to the side he would be able to point out and count each individual blemish on your face. 

The car reeked of whatever you were wearing. 

Again, not in a bad way. But shit - Bakugo was drowning.

Like he had been caught up in a rip and he was trying so fucking hard to swim to the sides - to safety but you were there and you were smiling at him, looking at him with those eyes and you grabbed him by the leg and forced his head under.

The worst part was that he knew it was going to get worse for him.

And it was all Kirishima’s fault. He was the one that planted this stupid idea in his head in the first place - if he had kept his big mouth shut Bakugo wouldn’t be here worrying about mending a broken relationship.

Shit.

You were going to be the death of him.

He sighed as the sleek sports car pulled up the venue. “Let me get the door for you.” Bakugo mumbled.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “What a gentleman.” You muttered under your breath as your ‘date’ stepped outside and pulled the door open for you. He reached for your hand but you slapped it away, throwing a glare at him.

“Don’t. I can handle myself.” You hissed under your breath.

Bakugo scoffed and pulled away, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in. “Did you forget? We gotta put on a show for these blood hungry demons society calls paparazzi. I don’t wanna be doing this shit either but it’s not like we have a fucking choice anyways. So pull that fucking stick out of your ass and take my fucking hand.”

You sighed defeatedly and debated your options, mulling a few thoughts in your head before you reached for Bakugo’s hand, holding your piercing glare as he intertwined his fingers with your own. He met your eyes and a silent understanding sparked between you both.

An hour. Tops. In and out. Give the press what they want so they can bump up our image. And then get the fuck out of there.

“Glad to see we agree on something…” Bakugo mumbled under his breath as he led you up the stairs, the flash of the cameras blinding him. A deep scowl etched into his face as he huffed.

You nudged him softly, meeting his gaze. “Smile.” You whispered as you both stepped up against the doors. “And stop stepping on my shoe.” You hissed. 

Bakugo rolled his eyes. 

You both smiled as the cameras flashed away, draining you of your essence. Of what made you both - fundamentally - you.

By the end of the night you would be a piece of gossip. An image on the newspapers. The name rolled off the tongue of a jealous fan. The name whispered in adoration of an obsessive stalker. A name.

A title.

Bakugo’s eyes flickered to your face for a moment before his arm snaked around your waist and gave you a soft squeeze. I’m here for you.

“Are you good?” Bakugo whispered as he led you inside. “You looked kinda out of it.” 

“I hate the paparazzi.” You mumbled as he led you up the stairs. 

“Yeah well. You don’t gotta worry about em too much in here.” He shrugged, letting his arm drop when the flashing lights were out of view. “Chill out with your friends, do whatever I dunno. I’ll text you at eleven to pick you up and go home. Alright?” Bakugo gave you a one over, eyes flickering from your face down to your body and then back up to your face.

The stare made you slightly self conscious. 

Don’t look at me like that. 

You huffed, raising your arms to your chest, nodding as you averted your gaze.

Bakugo stared at you, a small frown tugging at his lips. “Right uh.. Be safe I guess.” He mumbled.

You nodded. “Yea… uh you too?”

-

“You’re out here? Shouldn’t you be inside?” Bakugo’s voice came out as gruff as he stepped out onto the balcony. You didn’t bother turning around as he moved to stand beside you. You took in a deep inhale of the fresh night air.

It was biting against your arms.

“Yea… I got tired of being there. My social battery is a little low today so y'know? I just needed the space.” You mumbled, not bothered to explain your reasons for staying outside to the likes of Bakugo.

He merely nodded as he wordlessly stared up at the sky. “Can I ask you something?” 

“You already did.”

“Something else idiot.”

You snorted, covering it up with a cough. “Yea go ahead.” 

“You hate me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an observation. 

You hated Bakugo. 

You hated his ego. 

You hated his pride. 

You hated the way he made you feel like a pebble in his path to success. 

You hated his anger. 

You hated the way he had changed. 

You hated how he tried to remedy things. 

You hated the way his eyes sparked. 

You hated the way he spoke to you - so soft and delicate, like a flower losing its petals.

You hated him.

A chill ran up your arms, and you rubbed them softly. Did I forget my coat in the car? I got so worked up over the whole gala I forgot my coat!

You were about to curse out loud at your stupidity - but before you were able to, you were enveloped by a soft caramel scent mixed with something spicy? Cinnamon?

“You’re shivering.” Bakugo pointed out. “You left your coat in the car.”

You huffed, pulling his suit jacket closer. “Thanks…” You mumbled looking up at the sky. “Do you… like the stars?” You looked over at Bakugo who was staring up at the inky void. The light pollution was annoying, you could barely see a thing, but the small little dots that you did see would lift your spirits anyways.

Even if most of them were dead.

“I do.” He nodded. “You didn’t answer my question.” He turned to you. “Do you hate me?”

You went silent for a moment, pulling the jacket closer and looking back up. “Yea.”

“Yea. I think… I hate you.”

-> Masterlist

taglist [OPEN] : @luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault - @qyuin - @kaidostwin - @wonubby - @moochiwoochi - @coldnightshark - @kalulakunundrum - @sexylexy12 - @rednicotine - @samm1e13 - @kawoala

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

girls be like "i know a spot" and then keep you in their hearts forever